A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I apologize for the wait. My muse has been on overdrive lately, but it's not always for fanfiction. I've written a short story for a compilation project and picked back up on two different book ideas I've been sitting on for some time now. In between all that, I've gamed some, applied and interviewed for a few jobs, and generally tried to keep at least somewhat physically active.
So, basically, I'm sorry, but grateful for an active muse.
If any of you are interested, I've posted a lot of stuff on the blog Raven Sinead and I keep (ravenandgrace. blogspot. com). I feel like I've been hogging it lately, but Raven doesn't seem to mind. So... oh well!
Without further ado, here is more Forged Through Fade and Flame!
"Inquisitor Lavellan."
Zanneth smiled politely, bowing as she'd been shown. My lips might be stuck in a permanent, vague smile by the end of this night, she thought to herself. "Grand Duchess," she said in greeting as she straightened from her bow. Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons smiled in return.
"I see you remember our brief meeting not an hour ago." Her eyes, not quite hidden behind her mask, moved first to Leliana before alighting on Cassandra. "Seeker Pentaghast. It is good to see you again."
"Likewise, your Grace," Cassandra said, performing a quick, straight-backed bow at Zanneth's right shoulder.
"Was there something I can do for you?" Zanneth asked.
"I wished to welcome you to my party, Inquisitor," Florianne said, gesturing oddly with her hands. Zanneth had seen several nobles in the ballroom gesturing in a similar manner, and had decided it meant nothing more than some people's tendency to gesture while they spoke. Zanneth had no such tendency, but she'd noticed that Josephine and Revka both did. Perhaps the habit was picked up here, at court?
"It is good to see a Chantry presence here, with the Divine gone. Maker take her," Florianne continued, her eyes flashing again to Leliana.
Zanneth's heart kicked at mention of Leliana, but she kept the panic from her expression. Perhaps she recognizes Leliana? "Yes, well. I have found it prudent to always have someone near for conference when needed," Zanneth said, hoping she wasn't giving anything away she didn't intend to with her words or her tone.
"No doubt it puts some minds – and flapping lips – at ease, as you are Dalish and the Herald of Andraste, both" Florianne said, nodding. Her eyes then left Leliana, and did not venture back again. Zanneth heaved an inward sigh of relief. Leliana had been correct. She was virtually invisible in her role as religious aide to the Herald.
Instead, the Grand Duchess's gaze moved back to Cassandra. "Rumor has it that you are involved with the Right Hand of the Divine," she said, her eyes flashing.
"It is not a rumor," Cassandra said. Zanneth could not see her, of course, but the tone of her voice was clipped, the words nearly bitten off. Zanneth couldn't blame her. She didn't like being the subject of talk, either.
"I see. A smart tactic, Seeker. Do not advertise it, but do not deny it. It robs the information of its power against you, and you have every excuse to stay at the Herald's side, both as her lover and as a religious advisor." Florianne's gaze settled on Zanneth. She noted that her eyes lingered on the elf's severed right ear for several seconds. "You have an intelligent observer of the Game with you, Inquisitor, even if she does not herself machinate." Zanneth couldn't help but think that the Grand Duchess was actually insulting her, rather than complimenting Cassandra.
"Was there some point to this line of questioning, your Grace?" Cassandra said. Perhaps no one else would hear it, but Zanneth could detect just a touch of exasperation in her lover's tone.
"Yes, in fact. I wished to ask a favor of you, Lady Pentaghast."
Again, Zanneth could detect a hint of frustration in her lover's bearing. Cassandra hated being addressed as Lady anything. She was a Seeker of Truth and the Right Hand of the two previous Divines. Her noble title was, quite possibly, the thing that mattered least of all to the woman. And she delighted that Zanneth, too, had no concern for it, coming from a world without nobility as she did.
"I hoped to ask for just a moment of the Inquisitor's time, and wished to assure any paramour of my intentions should I do so."
"Ask her to dance." The voice, barely even a whisper, was Leliana's. She was standing at Zanneth's left shoulder, closest to her still-intact left ear. Only the elf would have heard the Left Hand's instruction. Zanneth nodded, both in response to Leliana and to the Grand Duchess.
"I would be delighted. Shall we dance while we speak, your Grace?" Zanneth said, stepping away from Cassandra and Leliana. She knew Cassandra would not like Zanneth being away from her side, but there was nothing for it. They had already agreed earlier that this was the best way to try to get Florianne to speak candidly – while she thought no one was watching, and as she spoke with the Dalish Inquisitor. They were essentially using Zanneth and her perceived inexperience and ineptitude at the Game as bait.
Florianne accepted, taking Zanneth's proffered elbow. She started speaking the moment they were out of Cassandra's earshot. "I believe that tonight you and I are both concerned with a certain… person. Hence wishing to speak privately."
Zanneth turned, nodding her acknowledgment as she eyed the dance floor. "I am afraid I only know a simple dance, your Grace," she said, opting for honesty and hoping it came off as charming. Revka had explained how it might work, as she herself was from Ferelden with a lowborn accent, and often thought of as quaint and rustic by the Orlesian court. She had said it worked in her favor, even if it was insulting to be thought of as so simple.
"It is quite all right, Inquisitor." She placed her hand on Zanneth's shoulder, and the elf was suddenly very aware of how the Grand Duchess towered over her. The woman, in her heeled shoes, was taller than Cassandra. "I am impressed you know any at all, coming from the Dalish as you do."
Zanneth nodded, though she was sure the comment could be considered an insult. She was far too preoccupied with remembering the steps of this dance, however. She took a deep breath, remembered at the last moment to smile, and pushed herself and Florianne out onto the edge of the dance floor in a quick foxtrot.
After a few seconds, the Grand Duchess was speaking again. "I hear your clan frequents the Free Marches. How much do you know of our little war?"
Zanneth nearly tripped. She had not practiced dancing and negotiating the Orlesian nobility, and until this moment had not realized how taxing it would be for her poor hunter's mind. "Why… don't you tell me what you think I should know?" she suggested, hoping her brief hesitation did not spell disaster for everything. She still wasn't sure how saying the wrong thing would put them all in danger, but she had come to trust Leliana's, Revka's, and Josephine's judgment in the last few months. And Cassandra agreed, as much as she disapproved of the Game. Zanneth accepted it as yet another thing that there was simply no room for in her world out in the woods.
Her guiding rule for this whole experience of the Winter Palace was to answer a question with another question. It kept people talking, and with Florianne, that was precisely what they wanted. It also kept Zanneth talking as little as possible.
The Grand Duchess's expression was almost a smirk behind her mask as she explained, albeit briefly, the situation with her brother and her cousin. "It took great efforts on my part to arrange tonight's negotiations," she said once she was through. "Yet one party would use this occasion for blackest treason. The security of the empire is at stake. Neither one of us wishes to see it fall."
"Do we both want that?" Zanneth nearly bit her tongue. It just slipped out. She had no idea who to trust and who not to. The joke would be well appreciated by Varric, and probably also Solona and Bull, but that did not mean it was a wise thing to say.
Luckily, Florianne seemed to take it in stride as she completed a simple turn. "I hope we are of one mind on this."
Zanneth narrowed her eyes the slightest bit. Suddenly she could see it. This… was a verbal sparring match. They were both feinting, looking for an opening. Looking for a tell, for a pattern in the other, looking for the way the other's favor leaned. Or, at least, that was what Florianne was doing. And the Inquisitor needed to do it, as well. Could she trust the Grand Duchess? Was she one of their enemies? There was no way to find out except to try to prod, just enough to make her slip.
"In times like these, it is difficult to tell friend from foe. Is it not, Grand Duchess?" It was true. Zanneth was literally asking is she could trust the woman, merely wording it a little differently.
"Indeed. I know only that you arrived as a guest of my brother, and that your agents are everywhere in the palace. You are a curiosity to many, Inquisitor. And a matter of concern to some."
Zanneth sent the Grand Duchess into another quick turn as they moved about the dance floor. This was a better workout than sparring, in a way. Less taxing to her arms, much more taxing for her mind. "And which am I to you?" she asked after a moment. They were skirting an open, honest conversation, but not quite actually landing upon one. Much how one did with a sword in the sparring ring. Unless you're Cassandra or Bull. Then you just barrel through everyone head-on and dominate the ring with your strength and speed.
"A little of both, perhaps. The potential of your Inquisition to effect change places you in a rare place of power, as a Dalish elf. You come to us with a perspective no one can predict, not even that harlot who used to bed my cousin. This evening is of great importance to the empire, Inquisitor. I wonder what role you will play in it. Do you even yet know who is friend and who is foe? Who in the court can be trusted?"
I just asked her that question. She evaded. That means I should, as well. "Do any of us?"
Florianne was quiet for an extended moment of dancing. Her manner was… heavy, with what, Zanneth did not know. But then she seemed to come to a decision, and as the music swelled with its finale, she said, "It cannot have escaped your notice that certain parties participate in dangerous machinations, Inquisitor."
Zanneth kept her quip to herself this time. I thought dangerous machinations were the national pastime in Orlais.
"You have little time," the Grand Duchess continued. "The attack will come soon." She was directly on the line now, no longer skirting close and then backing away. "You must stop Gaspard before he strikes. In the Royal Wing garden you will find the captain of my brother's mercenaries. He knows all Gaspard's secrets. I'm sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming."
Zanneth, upon hearing the telling chords that signaled the end of the piece of music, dipped Florianne in the simple flourish she'd practiced on the road to Halamshiral each night. "I suppose we'll see what the night has in store."
She escorted the Grand Duchess back to the side of the dance floor, and immediately sought out her companions.
Josephine was curious as to whom everyone was watching on the dance floor, so she took the stairs to get a vantage from on high. The Herald! she thought, shocked to see the elven woman sweeping the Grand Duchess through the dance floor like she owned it. She was all lithe grace and cat-like reflexes, keeping from running into anyone else only by inches at most. More than one lady's skirt was left ruffled in the Inquisitor's breeze.
Josephine made sure to be there when Zanneth exited the floor.
"You will be the talk of the court for months!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice, taking Zanneth's elbow so she might speak with her. She needed to check in and see what had happened, what they knew, and confer with Leliana if she could. "We should take you dancing more often, Inquisitor." Her beaming smile was, for once, genuine. Her altercation from earlier was nearly forgotten in her delight at seeing the Inquisitor succeed on the dance floor.
"Just don't make me dance with Corypheus," the elf quipped. Josephine almost jumped in shock. While Zanneth had opened up more since they came to Skyhold, her time at Haven had left everyone with the impression that she was incredibly serious, an impression supported by her obviously getting along so well with Cassandra. Every single time she told some jape or laughed at Sera's antics, Josephine was surprised. She almost couldn't parse what she was seeing when the Inquisitor helped Sera and Solona with that snowball fight mere weeks into their stay at the mountain castle.
"Would that we could outmaneuver him and skip all the bloodshed, though, yes?" Josephine said.
"I suppose. I don't like killing people. But don't a lot of people get killed in this Game? At least in war, we all have some idea why the other people are trying to kill us."
A splash of blood, of the brightest red, flashed across Josephine's mind. She had almost forgotten… "This is… true." She eyed Zanneth from the side as they meandered through the crowd. "I hope you have good news. It appears the peace talks are crumbling. As we suspected they would."
"The Grand Duchess warns that her brother is up to something. It took her until the very end of the dance to say as much. I do not know if that means I should trust her because she was out of time, or if that was her last attempt to get me to believe a lie."
"Either option is bleak. It does mean the attack will happen tonight, however."
"How do you know?"
Josephine smiled and waved to an acquaintance of hers. "Either she is right, and Gaspard is planning something, or she is planning something and trying to throw you off her scent. I would suggest you investigate. I can make excuses for your absence."
"She did mention something about the Grand Duke's mercenary captain. Perhaps I should seek him out and see what he has to say?"
"That is good, yes. Take Cassandra with you. She would kill me if I sent you out on your own." Her eyes flashed as she smiled at the Inquisitor. "Two paramours sneaking off together is possibly the most boring thing that could happen at the court. The perfect excuse for your absence, no?"
As Josephine expected, Zanneth's pale face flushed with color, but she said nothing, merely nodding. They continued walking together until they found Leliana and Cassandra, standing in a circle with Bull, Dorian, and Solona. All their manners were easy and calm, even jovial, but Josephine knew they spoke of important things. Leliana looked out of place, but as she was glued to Cassandra and Zanneth's side for the evening, it shouldn't be too suspicious. They, all three of them, were religious figures to some degree. Leliana's true identity within the Chantry was simply masked.
They joined the group with almost no to-do, and Josephine noticed Sera served them all wine. Clever little thing. She accepted her wine, and began listening to what was being reported.
Leliana's mind reeled at all that had been revealed. Venatori agents in the servant's wing. Dorian's father mixed up with the Venatori, then disappearing. Briala offering her services, and her network of Orlesian spies. And now Zanneth made it clear that Florianne de Chalons was up to… something. So much they could use. But how, precisely? She hadn't decided just yet. It all hinged on whether it was Florianne or Gaspard who was planning something. They had almost too much evidence on Gaspard, but absolutely zero on Florianne. It was suspicious. Gaspard was not that stupid, and Florianne was not that innocent.
"You should investigate this report of Gaspard's captain," Leliana murmured, making sure she looked at no one in particular. She couldn't look like she was too involved in the conversation, as a mere Chantry sister. "A mercenary captain won't lie for his master the way a pledged soldier will. Offer him money, and he'll spill any secrets there are to spill."
"Lady Montilyet suggested as much," Zanneth said.
"How will we sneak her away?" Cassandra asked.
"Oh, Cassandra," Leliana cooed, finding the Seeker's expression turned sour at her tone. "Surely you can find some reason to sneak off with your lover? Preferably for all to see?"
Solona's grin was wicked, and Dorian and Bull both let out a guffaw, their grinning lips pulling open with their mouths. Cassandra's lips were pursed. It would be a while before she forgave Leliana that comment. But it was just too good to pass up.
"We will go. Together," Zanneth said, wrenching the conversation back to business. "Should anyone else come along? Perhaps meet us?"
Sera said something, though Leliana did not catch it. She watched as the elf handed more wine to Zanneth before her eyes flicked to Dorian.
"I'll go, too," he said, smiling and taking a sip of his wine. "You'd think they would serve fancier wine at this thing. This is the Empress's party, isn't it?"
Leliana nearly rolled her eyes. She still did not like the man, but she could not let that dislike show now. She trusted his intentions, she trusted that he would protect the Herald as best he was able, and even trusted that he had earned his forgiveness from Solona. But she would never be able to forgive him for taking Solona away from her, for nearly getting her killed. She just… couldn't bring herself to be that good. Her heart held too much ice for that. Perhaps in the days of the Blight, but no longer.
As she watched the others participate in more inane conversation, and as Zanneth and Cassandra wandered off together, Leliana couldn't help but notice Solona's expression was… strained. Her eyes followed Sera closely as the elf left, presumably to go meet Zanneth and Cassandra. The set to Solona's shoulders was also strained. Her eyes flicked to Leliana far more than they should. Someone might notice. But… what would worry her lover so much?
Leliana decided to take a risk and lifted a single hand. {Calm,} she spelled out. Something was obviously bothering the arcane warrior, but she needed to know that someone might notice. The barest nod was her answer, and then Solona visibly relaxed, and her smile came more easily.
That's right, my love. Whatever is bothering you, we will discuss it as soon as is possible. We must get through this night first, however. Leliana took a deep breath, refocusing her mind on all the information that had been gathered.
Zanneth massaged her temples. The elven servant she just saved ran off with the promise of speaking against Briala should they need her to. Her hands trembled. She looked out the window, remembering the feeling of her feet making contact with the ridiculously-dressed assassin, how the woman's breasts had cushioned her foot, how she had been totally silent as she was pushed through the window, how the thud of her body below had been both barely audible and deafening.
The tremor moved through her whole body now, and Zanneth could not stop it. "Creators, what am I doing?" she whispered, moving to crouch by the wall.
"Inky?" Sera said from one side, while Cassandra's presence was clear on her other side. It was stifling. She needed…
She pushed herself to her feet, her hands still trembling. The Anchor shone brightly, the pain a low, dull throb. She removed her gloves for fear the mark would burn right through it. "I need… I need to be alone for a moment," she said, walking into the next room. She could almost feel Cassandra's concern, as well as being wounded by Zanneth shrugging her off as she had. But Zanneth didn't need her concern right now. She just…
She wanted out. She wanted away. She had danced with the duchess and then come through these halls to kill and kill and there was just no point that she could see to pretending like this. It was all so…
"Really? Walking away? It's going to take a lot to make that up to her." It was Dorian. He'd followed her in here after she said she needed to be alone.
"What do you want from me, Dorian?"
"It just looked like you needed to be watched. So you don't, I don't know, run away or something equally dramatic."
Zanneth looked out a window. "It's starting to sound like a good idea."
"I know. Hence my presence."
Zanneth stared for a moment before turning around. The tremors had stopped, but the mark was still glowing brightly, painless now but lighting up the whole dark room. Seeing Dorian's face under the light reminded her of Redcliffe, and everything that had happened there. It was the stuff of her nightmares. In the beginning, she would often see Cassandra's limp body flying through the air, and she would awaken sweaty and unable to get enough air, but with Cassandra whole and hale next to her. It had calmed over the winter, but had flared back to life at night on the road to Halamshiral.
She did not like being reminded of it now. "This is all so…"
"Stupid? Pointless? I know. And they can't even serve good wine!"
Zanneth smiled, but shook her head, turning away again. She couldn't look at his face. She chose to stare at the sky out the window instead. "What is the point of all this? Briala is machinating, Gaspard is machinating, and Florianne probably is, as well. We know the empress is. We found her…"
"A naked man with an erection tied to her bed? Yes. Yes, we did. A fine specimen, too. The empress has good taste. I imagine if things go her way this evening, that man will have quite a welcome when she gets back to him. His career with Gaspard is over either way."
Again, Zanneth smiled, but didn't turn around. "I'm serious, Dorian! It all seems so pointless. How are we here to stop Corypheus?"
"They do seem much more enmired in their own problems than whatever's going on in the rest of the world, don't they?" He came up next to her, examining the stars alongside the Herald. "The thing is, Orlais is important. You remember Redcliffe, yes? They told us what happened. The empress was assassinated, and all of Orlais fell into chaos. Then an army of demons swept through and ruined everyone's day. We don't yet have a lead on the demon army, but the assassination? That's what we're here to stop. They're all maneuvering and posturing their little heads off, but your job is to deduce who the assassin is and stop them. The rest of it will happen whether or not you think it should, whether or not you're even here. The assassin is what you're here to change."
"I'm here to ruin Corypheus's day?" Zanneth said, smirking.
Dorian laughed. "Yes! For once! Might as well show him what it feels like, yes?"
"I don't know," Zanneth said, lifting her glowing left hand. "I've been led to believe that I ruined his day pretty well when I obtained the Anchor."
"True. Too bad it ruined your day, as well." He put his hand on her shoulder, and Zanneth finally looked up to his face once more. "Come along. Let's go ruin his day. Then you can eat, sleep, fuck, and generally not have a ruined day." He grinned at her squawk of displeasure. She felt her face flush furiously all the way up to the tip of her remaining ear. "Ha ha! You are so precious! Come on. You have a lover you slighted. You should apologize, thrust your tongue down her throat, and then we should get moving."
Still blushing furiously, Zanneth allowed Dorian to usher her into the next room, where she immediately went into Cassandra's embrace, whispered her apology, and basked in the stalwart comfort her lover provided. They would speak later, but for now, this seemed to be enough for the both of them.
Cassandra watched as Sera knelt by the door. They could hear a man yelling about "painted Orlesians" on the other side with a Fereldan accent, and Cassandra couldn't blame him. To the more robust Fereldan people, Orlesian nobles were indeed painted, dressed up dolls, with the outward intelligence of one, as well.
The fact that the door to the garden was locked made the Seeker uneasy. They all knew the risk that they were walking into a trap, that Florianne had planned something and was pushing a little too hard to make it seem that it was her brother who was a traitor – which, of course he was a traitor, he started this damned civil war. Cassandra appreciated his military mind, and thought that, if he had come about this differently, he would make a good emperor. But his willingness to continue his blasted war even with the Chantry, Seekers, templars, and Circles all in open conflict rather soured his appeal in the Right Hand's eyes. Given all the choices available, though… perhaps he was still the best ally for the Inquisition?
The locked door on top of all the other posturing… it should make her feel better, because that meant they weren't expected. But why would the man be behind a locked door, yelling about Orlesians? Was he trapped? Why couldn't he simply let himself back out of the garden?
"I'm not sure about this," Cassandra finally said, eyeing everyone.
"Neither am I. It stinks like day-old fish," Dorian said. "But it's also likely to provide some answers."
"Pr'vided we survive it," Sera snarked. Then she stood up. "Door's unlocked. After you, Inky."
Cassandra stepped forward, reaching for the doorknob and her rapier at the same time. "I will go first."
"No." Zanneth's hand alighted on top of hers. "I'm the leader, Cassandra. I won't ask any of you to go somewhere I wouldn't also go." Cassandra's heart swelled, but she merely nodded. She was glad that they were lovers and Zanneth still felt she could step into a command role when it was required. Their relationship could not be allowed to get in the way of the Inquisition. They hadn't really discussed how to do that yet, but they seemed to be doing okay so far.
I should speak more with Leliana about this. How did they manage during and after the Blight? This is only our first of likely many Inquisition-related missions since becoming lovers. I let duty get between myself and Galyan. I… I do not wish to do that with Zanneth. There must be a balance.
The door opened to bright green light. Cassandra reached for her sword, cursing that it was only a rapier and not her usual longswords. Arrayed around them were at least twenty archers, but even more worrying was the dormant rift floating in the courtyard. How did they keep it from drifting away? How did they keep it dormant? How had no one noticed its presence in the Winter Palace?
"Inquisitor! What a pleasure. I wasn't certain you'd attend." Cassandra's eyes fell on the Grand Duchess de Chalons, standing upon a balcony overlooking this small courtyard. "You're such a challenge to read. I had no idea if you'd taken my bait."
Cassandra saw red. The protective impulse within her reared an ugly head, and she had to take several deep breaths to keep from flinging her sword at Florianne and separating her head from her body. She targeted Zanneth because she was an elf, because she was inexperienced at the Game, because she was unfamiliar with politics. She saw Zanneth as a target, as someone stupid and immature, child-like, and it infuriated Cassandra that the Grand Duchess could reduce this person to a thing like that. The Seeker could kill her and it would not be enough to satisfy the beast that was her anger in that moment.
To her surprise, Zanneth remained calm, walking several paces out into the courtyard and placing herself between Cassandra and their adversaries. Her sword remained at her side. She met Cassandra's eyes briefly and smiled, and that more than anything else calmed Cassandra's blood. Florianne was wrong, and she would pay dearly for underestimating this amazing creature.
"I'm afraid it's rather a bad time for another dance, your Grace," the elf called out. Sera and Dorian both sniggered from behind Cassandra.
The Grand Duchess smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. The comment had wormed its way beneath her skin. Good. Bitch.
"It was kind of you to walk into this trap so willingly. I was so tired of your Inquisition's meddling. The Elder One insisted that the empress die tonight, and I do not wish to disappoint him. Magister Alexius's failure made it abundantly clear what happens when we disappoint our master. And I admit I will relish the look on Gaspard's face when he realizes I've outplayed him. He always was a sore loser."
Zanneth moved a little closer to the Grand Duchess. Cassandra noticed that her hand veritably pulsed with light. It likely hurt the elf quite a lot. But Zanneth did not let on. What is she trying to do?
"And why help him? What do you get from it?"
Florianne's eyes flashed, reflecting the green light of the dormant rift as she answered. "My brother wants an empire. He thinks small. When Corypheus ascends to godhood, he will save me! He will rule from the Black City, and I will rule all Thedas in his name!" She leaned forward, her voice dropping an octave. "In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself. Kill her!" She straightened, looking to the Venatori thug to her left. "Bring me the marked hand as proof!"
Zanneth sprang to life just as the first arrow was released. She jumped forward, under the line of the arrows, rolling on the ground before popping to her feet with her hand raised. Cassandra had to dive out of the way to avoid the arrows sent their way. A grunt from Dorian told her he was not fast enough, but also that he was not seriously hurt. Likely just grazed. She lifted her head from the ground to see the rift explode open, and a veritable flood of demons poor forth.
Zanneth was thrown from her feet. Cassandra scrambled to her side. "Are you all right!" she yelled. The elf nodded, sprang to her feet, and reached down to help Cassandra up. Once standing, the Seeker looked around. Every single Venatori agent was busy dealing with a demon, leaving Cassandra and her companions unmolested.
"Brilliant," she breathed. "Wait until they are dead before closing the rift."
"I'll need you to keep the demons off me once I do so," the elf said, nodding. "Dorian! Sera!" She waved the others toward her.
Sera stopped on her way, darting beneath a flaming demon to grab a fallen Venatori archer's weapon. Then she was at Cassandra's side. "Gonna wait 'til the demons take care of th' problem for ya, Inky? Smart."
"It won't be long now," Dorian said, his eyes scanning the courtyard as he moved his hand away from his arm. "Another injury or two and they'll come for us." As Cassandra had suspected, the mage bore only a torn sleeve, a cut underneath that was not at all serious.
Cassandra pulled her sword. "Let them come," she said, eyes narrowed as she turned her back to Zanneth. They formed a rough circle around the Herald. "Ready?" she said.
"Yes," Zanneth replied.
Cassandra raised her sword in front of her. "Now."
The word was barely out of Cassandra's mouth before a cacophony sounded behind her. She recognized it as the sound the Anchor made when it made contact with a rift. She had no time to ruminate on it, however, as every single demon's attention was taken by Zanneth closing the source of their energy in this world.
She hefted her sword. Fighting with a rapier, while not unfamiliar to her, was not suited to her size and strength. It required finesse, like peeling an onion instead of slicing it in half. Cassandra could be patient while fighting a skilled opponent, but her favored tactic was to move before her foe knew what she was capable of. As those she faced in battle were usually larger men who underestimated the female Seeker, this tactic worked well for her. It also worked well against demons and abominations, as well. Finesse and patience against a demon was… not her strong-suit.
But she would prevail. She must. It was the only option to get out and to the ballroom again before the duchess struck against the empress.
A flaming hand lashed out against Cassandra, and she took the blow with her sword. She only needed to hold out a few more seconds. Which was good, as her sword was left red-hot by the demon's blow. A few more like that, and it would brittle the steel, leaving it useless. We should have asked that these weapons be enchanted to withstand this sort of battle, she thought absently. She lashed out against the creature, taking it where its throat should be. It shrieked and withered away, only to be replaced by a rag-covered monstrosity with only the vaguest identifiable outline. Mostly, it was a rag-covered lump.
But it had hands, and they had nails that could skewer Cassandra's throat and bleed her out in seconds. The Seeker ducked out of the way of those hands, thrusting upward with her rapier. She felt the demon's nails cut through the skin of her shoulder, and the resulting sting as they sank deep, but ignored it, stepping forward and driving the sword further before twisting savagely, completing her kill.
Another arm rose above her, but it never connected. Green, healing light burst forth, and then the demon dissolved into thin air. She stood up tall, looking around the courtyard. A few Venatori moved and moaned from the ground, but even as she watched, Zanneth sprang forward and gutted the last man standing with her own rapier. Then she took his bow and quiver. Their ruse was over at this point, so Cassandra made no move to correct the elf. Let her have the more familiar weapon. Maker knew Cassandra wished for a proper sword, and perhaps even a shield.
"Oy! Got a live one 'ere!" Sera shouted. "All tied up and lookin' scared!" Cassandra moved over to the girl's side, kneeling in front of the man.
"Are you Gaspard's mercenary captain?"
He nodded frantically. "I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn't think he'd feed me to fucking horrors and demons over a damned bill!"
"Gaspard sent you out here?" Cassandra made no move to untie him. She was taking no chances.
"Well, his sister. But it had to come from him, didn't it? All that garbage she was spewing didn't mean anything. Some lord and gods? Preposterous. Gaspard has to be the mastermind."
"I'm sorry. Wait. You think this is over Gaspard not paying you?" Dorian scoffed down at the man. "How idiotic are you, man?"
The captain scowled up at Dorian. "The duke wanted to move on the palace tonight, but he didn't have enough fancy chevaliers." He said the last with a hefty amount of disdain. "So he hired my men, offered us triple the normal rate to get us to come all the way to Orlais. Stinking, poncy cheesemongers.
"Inquisition could use good mercenaries who c'n see through rich tits," Sera said.
Cassandra scowled, but nodded, ignoring Sera's more colorful language. A winter spent with hers and Solona's shenanigans had taught her to not react or it would just get worse. "True. And I am convinced you have no ulterior motive." She pulled her sword and cut his bindings.
"Who are you?" he asked, rubbing his wrists once he'd stood up.
Zanneth finally moved forward. "I'm Inquisitor Lavellan. I lead the Inquisition. We can pay you well, and you won't be asked to attack the Winter Palace. Not in secret, at any rate."
"The Inquisitor! I thought the duchess just had her head up her arse! Yes, of course! Anything's better than this kind of bullshit, anyway!" He took her hand, shaking.
"Will you testify as to what happened out here, should we need it?" Dorian asked.
"You want me to talk to the empress, or the court, or sing a blasted song in the Chantry, I'll do it," the captain replied, nodding. He was a simple man. They could use a whole heap more simple in their ranks.
"Find our commander inside," Cassandra said. "He is blonde, with a scar on his upper lip, and he is missing his left forearm. He is wearing the same uniform as us."
"Sounds hard to miss," the man said with a nod, then disappeared through the door they'd used to get into the courtyard.
Cassandra made no move to stop Dorian as he silently sidled up beside her, murmuring under his breath to heal the cuts on her shoulder as he held the flesh together with his hands. When he was through, she thanked him quietly. Then she turned to Zanneth.
"Leliana should vet him and his lieutenants thoroughly," she said.
"She will. I trust her," Zanneth replied, coming close.
"Wha' do we do about these?" Sera asked, gesturing to the semi-conscious injured Venatori agents.
Dorian incanted briefly, and then heads began to fall. Within seconds, the agents were unconscious to a man. "There. They'll sleep. Let the palace guards sort them out. They're no threat to us anymore, and this way they can face the empire's justice."
"Thank you, Dorian." Zanneth reached out and took Cassandra's hand briefly, then turned and marched to the door. "Come on. We have an assassination to stop."
Heart pounding, Cassandra ran after her lover. When this was over, she was going to lock them in their room and not come out for at least a day.
