XII
Before leaving Val Chevin Calpernia and Florianne discuss important matters.
A/N: This chapter contains spoilers for Magekiller about Calpernia and Marius. The comic isn't really that good but the first three issues take place in Tevinter, so give it a try if you're interested.
I also included headcanons connected to Paying the Ferryman.
And the last thing I wanted to say is that I decided to occasionally draw 'fanarts' for this story. I can't post them here, sadly, but I included them on ao3 (silveriris) as well as on my tumblr (flore-purpureo).
The next day Calpernia once again leaves her companions to speak with her ally. Although truth to be told, she would rather avoid talking to Florianne de Chalons ever again. But beggars can't be choosers, and lately Calpernia feels very much like she's no more important than one of the beggars that Minathous is so full of.
Interestingly enough, the Duchess isn't hiding in some secret location outside the city. Calpernia goes to a house in the very heart of Val Chevin, near the main square. A maid guides her upstairs where she finds Florianne sitting on a balcony, enjoying early morning sun.
The mask on her face is made out of lace, shaped like wings of a butterfly. She's wearing high–waisted trousers and a blouse that should be buttoned up so it doesn't reveal so much cleavage. The Duchess most likely left it like this on purpose since she enjoys toying with her guests. Or she wants to make others notice the beauty mark on her right breast. Possibly both. If she wore something like this outside her own house, she'd cause quite a scandal. But then, aren't scandals what Florianne truly enjoys?
"Are you hungry?" the Duchess gestures at the table. There is a tray of pastries, pieces of apples and plums, and a bottle of wine with two cups.
Calpernia shakes her head. "I'd rather discuss our agreement."
Florianne rolls her eyes. "You Vints, always so formal. Could you at least pretend you enjoy my company? Look at me, I'm not complaining."
Calpernia sits down, hoping she wasn't invited here only to amuse Florianne with the latest gossip. Excluded from the Game, she must be so dreadfully bored.
"Tell me something, my dear Lady Calpernia. Rumour has it the Venatori leaders were assassinated by the Archon's orders."
"As you see I'm the one who survived."
"And that is exactly my question," the woman smiles, pouring wine to the cups. "How? Did you have a secret agreement with the Archon? Take out your rivals so you could seize all power for yourself?"
"This is very Orlesian way of dealing with problems. Do you think I'd betray my people?"
"I think you can see an opportunity and take it," Florianne says, and takes a sip of wine from her cup. "Only a fool wants to sacrifice his own life for ideals."
Calpernia takes the other cup to taste the wine. She presses her lips together, not wanting to show she doesn't quite appreciate the sour taste.
"So how did you survive? Did you perhaps seduce the man sent to kill you? Though from what I've seen, you're not very skilled at seduction..."
"Why do you consider this topic so interesting?" Calpernia asks, brows furrowed. She lets a hint of anger slip into her voice. She shouldn't show any strong emotions that could be considered weakness. Florianne specialises in finding weak points in her opponents. Calpernia should remember to watch her every word and gesture when the Duchess is close.
Florianne's words are enough to make Calpernia think about memories she doesn't want to share with anyone. It was truly an impossible coincidence that the person sent to kill her, a magekiller, was also someone she considered…. Dear, perhaps. She couldn't tell if her own memories of the time she spent with Marius in their master's house were in fact true.
Maybe the memories she has in her mind are an idealised version of events, because sometimes it's hard to believe she could be simply happy. And that someone would notice a person like her. When they met in that bathhouse, of all possible places, he was glad to see her. Surprised, of course, but glad, and that was the only thing that mattered. What would you think of me now?
At times her thoughts drift to him, wondering if he's still alive. Impossible, her rational mind says. Yet something inside her aches, hoping that perhaps he survived against all odds.
"We're allies now, are we not?" Florianne's voice brings Calpernia back to reality. "I'd like to know more about you, my dear."
"There's nothing interesting about me." She stares at her cup; the woman's condescending voice makes Calpernia feel like a stubborn child.
"Oh, I respectfully disagree."
Her amused smile is enough to tell Calpernia the Duchess likes toying with her. Sitting in your rich mansion all day alone must be very boring, she thinks. Florianne doesn't have a choice but to stay away from the public eye, since the Empress made sure to mark her as a traitor for the rest of her life.
Calpernia takes a breath. "I survived because I had to. Then I made a mistake of trusting the Elder One. Now I need to act before it's too late. "
"I do like your determination."
Florianne pours herself another cup of wine.
"I have one more question for you, my dear," the Duchess gives her the sweetest fake smile Calpernia's ever seen in her life. "There's a rumour about a certain, um, incident that's been happening in the Empire for quite some time now. In other countries as well, perhaps, but I'm only interested in what's going on in Orlais."
Calpernia lets out a sigh. And she thought that arguing with Samson is tiresome…
"Slavery is forbidden, thanks to our kind Empress Celene, but as we all know slavers make good coin in Orlais. Especially when it comes to selling and buying elven slaves. Oh, pardon, not slaves. Servants."
Calpernia takes another sip, knowing well where this conversation is going.
"Imagine my surprise when I heard that recently many slavers met their death. Not only slavers, but good Orlesian nobles as well. How scandalous! Do you know anything about it, Lady Calpernia?"
"Do you mistreat your servants, Florianne?" Calpernia asks, her voice innocently sweet. "If not, then there's nothing you should worry about."
"Oh, you're just marvellous!" the Duchess laughs. "I wish I could travel with you to Tevinter only to see you challenge the Archon himself. Radonis has no idea what's coming for him."
Calpernia's smile disappears from her lips. As long as they both can pretend they're friends, Florianne won't be a problem. It's all part of another game for her, Calpernia thinks. She can only hope they're on the same team.
"Now, let's get down to business." Florianne waves her hand at her maid who after a moment brings a small wooden chest. She sets it down on the table next to the tray with untouched food.
"This is my… investment in your noble cause," the Duchess says, opening the chest. Calpernia peeks inside to see that it's filled with gold and papers.
"Obviously you're going to need coin for your little expedition. I cannot spare more but I believe this is enough to get your little band of misfits across Nevarra to Tevinter."
Calpernia lets out a sigh. Little band of misfits? Oh, you have no idea…
"These documents state you are employed by Duke Francois LaCroix. The poor man's sick and will most likely die in a month or so. I was quick enough to buy his estate including his fine winery. Years ago he spent a year near the city of Nevarra, and opened another winery there. Now you'll pretend that he likes to buy it back. That's essentially your cover up story. Not that anyone would ask, but just in case tell your people what to say if asked."
"You certainly thought of everything," Calpernia says. She has to admit she's rather impressed.
"Of course," Florianne smiles. "Here's another fact you may consider interesting. There's a caravan of merchants leaving the city tomorrow morning. They're travelling via the Imperial Highway all the way to the Silent Plains. One of them is a certain friend of mine who wouldn't say no to hiring more servants to help him on this tiring journey. If you're interested in the details, they're all on one of the documents I included."
Her eyes linger on her cup as she traces its rim with her finger. "Just remember that something will go wrong no matter how well you plan everything."
When her gaze returns to Calpernia, there's a spark of determination in her cold eyes. "What I want in return is a favour. Perhaps one day I'll come to you asking for help. You will answer my call, then I'll consider your debt paid."
Just the thought of what Florianne could want from her makes Calpernia shudder, but having no other options she can't decline the offer.
"Before you leave Val Chevin, do watch the spectacle the Royal Theatre prepared for the good people of Orlais. You probably saw the stage they built on the square below."
Florianne has a smile on her lips. Her eyes, however, are cold and merciless.
"Plebs loves it. Watching it reminds me that nothing matters more than victory. When you win, you get to write history." She looks at the wine in her cup. "When you fail then, well… You're silenced forever."
Florianne raises her cup in a toast. "So let us pray you won't fail, Lady Calpernia. If not the Maker, then perhaps one of your dragon gods will listen to our prayers."
As agreed, Talia is waiting for Calpernia near Florianne's house. When the servant girl sees her, she lets out a sigh of relief.
"Is everything alright?"
"Better than expected, to be honest." Calpernia pats a bag she's carrying on her shoulder containing the small wooden chest filled with gold Florianne so generously offered.
"Before we go back…" Calpernia hesitates. Talia gives her a nervous look, so she quickly finishes before the girl gets more worried. "Did you see the stage on the main square? It's for a spectacle prepared by the actors from the Royal Theatre."
"I heard people talking about it. Would you like to watch it, Lady Calpernia?"
"If you don't mind…"
"Not at all. Though the play is about the Inquisitor, or so the posters say."
Remembering Florianne's words, Calpernia can't help but feel even more intrigued. "Let's watch it, then. Hopefully I'll never get the chance to meet the real Inquisitor."
About half an hour later the play begins. The stage is decorated with heavy curtains, nothing too amazing. It's a cheaper version of entertainment for people who can't afford going to one of the theatres Celene always praises so much.
The first actor comes on stage, wearing fake armour, with a sword in her hand. She shows the audience her left hand with a green shawl wrapped around it. Something like a sound of thunder comes from behind the curtain, and people gasp, amazed by this fake Mark on the Inquisitor's hand.
As far as Calpernia knows, the Inquisitor is a Dalish elf. It seems that in this spectacle Lavellan's race is completely ignored, as the actress who plays her is a human woman, wearing nothing that could signify she's supposed to play an elf. Like Florianne said, history is written by winners. If Celene doesn't want the simple people of Orlais to know the one who saved her is a knife–ear , then the whole country pretends that's the truth.
When an actress with golden lion embroidered on the front of her dress walks on stage the crowd cheers. It's Empress Celene, gracefully waving at her loyal subjects who love her so much. Calpernia feels sick to her stomach.
The Inquisitor talks to the Empress, then falls down on her knees to kiss Celene's hands. The crowd cheers even louder this time. Calpernia watches this with growing irritation. Simple minds want simple pleasures. Nobody cares about the historical accuracy when the spectacle is entertaining.
Calpernia glances up at the balcony where she sat with Florianne not so long ago. If people knew the Duchess is here they'd tear her into pieces.
After the Inquisitor goes behind the curtain, another actress appears on stage. Calpernia blinks in surprise. The woman introduces herself as the Grand Duchess Florianne, that much Orlesian Calpernia can understand. The mask she's wearing looks more like a face of a gargoyle, hideously twisted, while her clothes make her look like a common whore. The message is clear, Calpernia thinks and lets out a sigh.
When Florianne gives a fiery speech, accusing finger pointing at Celene, people are horrified as if the real ruler was in danger. The actors are convincing, Calpernia has to give them that.
Florianne raises a wooden knife, the crowd gasp in shock. Then the Inquisitor arrives, strikes her with a wooden sword, and throws a red shawl on her. The crowd cheers as the evil Duchess lays unmoving. It's yet another lie since the real Florianne de Chalons not only survived this encounter but also saved herself by agreeing to work for the Inquisition. Calpernia glances at Talia who observes the spectacle with eyes opened wide.
The Inquisitor kneels before Celene, and she pulls her close like a mother embracing her child. She gives a speech, her voice full of pride. The message is clear even for Calpernia who doesn't speak Orlesian. Our good Empress saved the country with the help of the Inquisitor. Rejoice!
The crowd applauds, throwing flowers at the stage. All actors get on stage and bow down, waving at people who gathered to witness this version of events. Calpernia turns away, disgusted. Nobody cares what's true and what's not as long as the audience is entertained.
There's no calendar among her books, but once in her life Calpernia is glad that she doesn't mark the dates. It would only depress her, seeing how another day passes and she's nowhere close Tevinter.
Her journey back home is taking so long, too long, but then nothing is easy in this world, especially for a person like her with no important connections or considerable power. Calpernia doesn't consider herself insignificant, at least she tries not to think about herself like that. Because on some level it still hurts, thinking that her actions don't mean anything just like they didn't when she was a slave living in her master's house, sleeping in the stables because other slaves couldn't stand her.
The Elder One promised her to restore Tevinter, yet in the end he was focused on his own goals, like everyone else. No wonder the Imperium is rotten if everyone thinks only about their own needs…
She finishes the letter quickly, before her bitterness shows in the words she's writing, folds it neatly and wraps a ribbon around it. There's no more wax she can use to place seals on her letters, so she has to use something else instead. Calpernia takes another letter she finished earlier, gets up from an old chair and goes to the main room of the house her group of misfits chose for a hideout.
While Florianne can live in the very centre of the city, Calpernia and her companions have to occupy a small ruined house on the outskirts of Val Chevin. The place looks like it could crumble any moment, but it's among other shabby buildings where the poor live, so no one pays much attention to them. It's the part of the city one doesn't hear about when visiting. There are so many splendid places, art galleries or gardens full of flowers. Only nobodies excluded from the Game live in this part of Val Chevin. They don't wear masks, their faces looking raw, vulnerable.
No one seem to notice their arrival, and Calpernia hopes they can leave the city before someone becomes suspicious why a group of people chose to stay in this place. Like rats fleeting from one place to another.
She looks around the main room where her companions rest. Samson's playing cards with the two elves, Ontario and Sorren. From the look on his face it's clear he's losing, though it's uncertain what's at stake. Maker knows how did they get the cards. Maybe they found them among the rubble and broken pieces of furniture the place is filled with. Yasha and Talia are eating; they don't have much to choose from but no one's complaining. The younger girl rescued from the slaver doesn't talk much but from what she told Calpernia it seems she'd like to go back to her homeland. Once they get to Cumberland, Calpernia will make sure to find the girl a place on a ship that will take her to Ostwick. No wonder she wants to leave this blighted country, the poor thing's been through a lot.
Something anxiously stirs in Calpernia's heart. She'd like to capture this moment, remember every small detail about the people who chose to accompany her.
Seeing her, Sorren gets up, leaving his cards on the ground. The game is over; Ontario's face lights up with a smile while Samson seems rather grumpy. Perhaps the templar lost, but it matters little now as Calpernia speaks to Sorren, handing him two letters and a small bag of coins.
"Remember that your task is to pass the letters to my agent. If she doesn't come for whatever reasons, or if you sense that something's not right, then get to Cumberland as quickly as possible."
"I know, Lady Calpernia," he says, pronouncing her name in an odd way, with a strong Orlesian accent. "I know what I have to do. We shall see each other in Nevarra."
Stay safe, she wants to tell him but for some reason can't. What if she never sees him again? The weight of her doubts and worries is pulling her down but she refuses to bend her back.
The elf gives her a smile, pats Ontario, his best friend, on the back, and then he's gone without saying any goodbyes. Perhaps he knows that the letters he carries are more important than his life – because what one life means when it comes to the salvation of a whole nation? It's cruel to think like that; Calpernia doesn't want to be cruel, but something tells her that one day she'll have to be.
"We're leaving Val Chevin on the morrow," she addresses the rest of the group. She already told them that the Grand Duchess Florianne agreed to help. Now they need to know about the details.
"Lucius, Berard and Talia," Calpernia glances at each of them, noticing hints of worry in their eyes. Especially the Orlesian girl looks uneasy, as if she wished to say something but didn't have the courage. "I'm giving you enough coin so you may travel freely. You'll join a group of merchants. One of them will hire you as servants. I hope you don't mind pretending to serve that man for a while."
"Are you sure about this, Lady Calpernia?" Talia asks, distraught. She looks almost pleading, making Calpernia wonder if she's not making a mistake.
"I planned everything, there's no need to worry," she says, trying to sound reassuring.
"What if I could… come with you?" The girl looks down for a second as if embarrassed by her own words.
"I'll be fine. And my dear friends will take good care of you."
Calpernia turns to the two Tevinter men. Berard simply nods; he never talks much. Lucius, on the other hand, assures her that they'll do as she instructed.
"Don't worry, my lady," he says as if she could read her thoughts and see how worried she truly is. "We'll meet again and all go to the Imperium together. It'll be interesting to see how Minrathous changed while we've been gone."
He gives her a reassuring smile. Even if he feels uncertain, Lucius pretends everything's perfectly fine just so she won't have to worry more.
Calpernia won't ever forget the day she met Lucius and Berard, and how horrified they looked at what she did to their master. It all happened in Minrathous in front of a statue of Darinius, or the Ferryman as some called him. Back then they both served as magister Anodatus' bodyguards, wore helmets that covered their faces, and couldn't make a move unless their master commanded them. Anodatus had known her before, and couldn't bear the thought that Calpernia wasn't a slave anymore. He dared to attack her; to her own surprise, she won.
Calpernia's hands were shaking as she held her staff, fingers tingling with power that tasted like smoke on her tongue. The smell of burning flesh almost made her gag, yet she was filled with joy. She faced her enemy and defeated him. No magister could control her anymore.
She saw the two bodyguards standing silently, too shocked to react as their master howled in pain. She asked them about their names but they were silent, too afraid to speak to a woman who injured Anodatus so gravely. One more look at the crying magister, smoke coming from his burned hands, and they decided to follow her. Perhaps they wanted to go with her because they believed in her words and heard the passion in her voice when she lectured Anodatus that one day every slave will walk freely.
And they are still with her now, not as someone's slaves but as free men.
She glances at Samson, who's sitting silently, offering no comments as if he simply accepted her every decision. They're getting closer to the Free Marches though he hasn't mentioned going back to Kirkwall even once. Why would he? There's nothing left for him in that city, Calpernia thinks with a spark of pity.
She fears that perhaps there's nothing waiting for her in Minrathous as well. Maybe once she gets there she will realise that she's not so different than Samson after all, two insignificant figures clinging to some meaningless ideals that don't matter in the grand scheme of things.