Chapter 52: Late night Visitor
Natalya couldn't sleep.
She had spent most of the evening going over the letter that had arrived early that morning. Sister Leliana had brought it to her personally, that was how important what was contained within had been. Normally it would have gone straight into the hands of the Inquisitor, but with Nicholai away, helping Seeker Cassandra, it fell to the one that was…closest to the Inquisition's leader. It fell to her.
Though, to be perfectly honest, she was not sure what to do.
She rolled over trying to get comfortable, the silken sheets and feather pillows should have felt beyond luxurious after the months on the road and her time in captivity, yet it did nothing to still her mind, which had continued to go over what the letter that had arrived from Ostwick had said. When Sister Leliana had first came to her, she had hoped that it was a letter from her beloved Oliver, she had heard nothing from him in months, anything from her love would have been enough to put her mind at ease after everything that had happened.
Unfortunately, that was not what the letter was about. It had come from House Trevelyan, from the seat of their family's power. Yet not from the Bann, had her father sent the letter she would not have been so worried. She had sent several missives to him, and had hoped that he would have responded by now, either with a commendation of her and Nicholai's acts, or a condemnation of them both.
Bann Pieter continued to remain silent. She had no idea how he felt about his children and the Inquisition, and the letter did nothing to shed any light upon it.
No the letter was from Stefan, Nicholai's younger brother.
Apparently, he was on his way to Skyhold.
Song was not sure what to make of that. Had their father wished Stefan to be his eyes and ears on this visit he would have said as much in a letter, he would have written it himself? The fact that Stefan had written the letter, and was now coming alone…
Natalya had no idea what to make of that.
For the briefest of moments, she had felt like a little girl again. Back then a simple disapproving look from either her mother or the Bann had turned her knees to jelly. The thought of disappointing either of them had been unthinkable, and on some level still was.
She had never failed on a mission, never. The fact that the mission to kill Nicholai had turned out so different, part of her still felt ashamed, even though she had no reason to be.
The world needed Nicholai Trevelyan right now; it would have been wrong and foolish to have finished what she had started. Yet, her sense of pride still haunted her sometimes.
She had failed to carry out her father's orders. He would be disappointed.
The little girl inside Natalya Song's head cringed.
She was her father's agent…and she had failed.
Of course, any disappointment he felt might not have anything to do with Nicholai. It was possible that her father had discovered that she had reached out to Uncle Van and his children. The state of cold war that existed between the two brothers was not something she had been ignorant of, and she had gone ahead anyway. Byron, Rhaena, and Evelyn had proven themselves useful, but that did not mean that her father would forgive such a slight. He had spent years isolating his younger brother from their family, and Natalya had invited his children in to the Inquisition with barely a thought of how her father would react.
Perhaps that was why her father had fallen so silent, maybe that was the reason he was sending Stefan here.
What does it matter now? She thought to herself. What was done was done. Nicholai was now Inquisitor and their cousins were all serving well throughout the new order.
Even if father was angry with her, or with Nicholai, what did it matter? History was on the move…
And with it the Inquisition, they were needed now, more than ever.
She frowned.
She knew all that to be true, but that still could not take away the sense that she had betrayed her father. She found herself wishing that Nicholai was here. She would have welcomed his counsel right now. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor was off helping Cassandra deal with her fellow Seekers. She had no idea when he would return.
If he even would return.
The thought made her shudder; she wrapped the fur blanket tighter around her.
If the Inquisitor did not return, she was not sure what she would do? It was not like she could just return home. She had bet everything she had on the side of the Inquisition.
There was no turning back.
She tried to push such thoughts away. Whatever future she had, was now tied up with the Inquisition. The war against the Venatori took precedence. Her association with her brother was the path to great prestige and power. She could use that to get everything she had ever wanted, if she was brave and skilled enough.
By refusing to kill, she had closed one door, but had opened so many more.
They had been friends once, she thought, Stefan and I. Back when we were children we had simply been two children living in the Trevelyan estate. We had played together, laughed together. It was not until later that Stefan had found out the truth about her birth, when he was old enough to understand such things.
Unlike Nicholai, Stefan had sided with his mother, and came to view her existence as a betrayal, he had never said such things openly, but any affection that remained between them cooled, and she had found herself distanced from her old playmate.
How would he react when he saw what their elder brother had built? Would he condemn them?
She could not say for sure.
As she lay there, she felt a slight tingling on the back of her neck, intuition some might have called it. Some might have ignored such a feeling, but Natalya Song was not one of them, that little feeling had saved her life on more than one occasion.
She frowned.
I'm no longer alone.
The room was dark, and probably more spacious than she deserved. Ambassador Montilyet had made sure that these rooms would be ready should any noble guests come to call. Nicholai had commanded that she be put up in one while she recovered. It was not as nice as his rooms, but it was still a far step above anything she had enjoyed before.
Guards patrolled the halls, she knew that. The thought of someone trying to harm her getting in seemed ridiculous, but that did not mean that it had not happened. She had made rivals in the Inquisition, people who would not shed any tears if she were harmed, still, would they go that far? Would they actively try to harm her here, under her brother's roof?
The only one powerful enough to attempt such a thing was Cassandra, but the Seeker's sense of honor would have balked at that. No, if she wanted to harm Song, she would have done so personally, she would not send others to do such dirty work.
Leliana might attempt such a coup, but as far as Natalya knew she had done nothing to anger the spymaster. Any games she had played during her time in Denerim had been for the good of the Inquisition, she did not believe that the spy master would seek her removal for such things as that.
She willed herself to remain calm.
She was being watched, someone was definitely in the room with her, but that did not mean that they were hostile, and they had to be skilled enough to get around the guards unnoticed.
That being the case, she could think of only one culprit, one who had…visited her before.
She took a deep breath, and mustered her courage. She had a dagger underneath her pillow, but she did not think she would need it.
When she spoke it was loud enough that anyone in the room would hear her.
"Cole?"
She did not expect an answer. If it was this spirit boy that Nicholai had warned her about he would likely flee, or make her forget his presence.
"Yes."
The fact that he had chosen to speak up surprised her.
She sat up in bed and regarded her rather unusual guest.
He sat upon the writing desk in the corner of the room, idly swinging his legs back and forth. Such a childlike movement, it might have been meant to put her off guard, but she was not so easily fooled.
He appeared to be close to her age, twenty perhaps, maybe twenty three, his large wide brimmed hat hid most of his features, and what wasn't hidden was not visible because of a mop of dirty blond hair, the leathers he wore were dirty and patched together, what one might expect to find worn by a boy serving in some backwater's local militia. Of course, that was an illusion too, wasn't it?
Cole was not a young man at all. He was a spirit, or a demon, depending on who you asked.
Natalya should have been afraid, but she was not.
She was more…curious than anything else.
She put on her most winning smile, hoping that would put her mysterious visitor at ease, or at the least off guard.
"I do not believe that we have been formally introduced," she said warmly, "My name is Natalya Song."
"I know," he said, still not looking up at her, still not meeting her gaze.
Despite that, she felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over her. She pulled the fur blanket up around her, regretting in that moment that she had chosen to sleep in the nude. She had always enjoyed the feel of silk sheets on her bare skin, it was a luxury she had never passed up, still, it left her a little defenseless when an unexpected guest came to call.
Normally, she might have tried to turn that to her advantage. She knew the desires of young men, and was not above using her body to distract them.
She found herself wondering if Cole felt any such desires, or was he truly more spirit than young man, perhaps she was simply another mortal to him. Perhaps he was something so alien that he had nothing in common with her or anyone else.
She decided to push on anyway; it was her way to find advantages, in any meeting, that had been drilled into her since she was a small child.
It was not an idea so easily abandoned.
"This is not the first time you have visited me is it?"
He paused tilting his head slightly, listening perhaps; when he spoke his voice was soft, and as gentle as a summer breeze.
"You were hurting," he said, "I wanted to help."
Song considered that, so far that fit everything she had heard about Cole from others, those that could remember him anyway. Cousin Rhaena and Ambassador Montilyet certainly had a hard time remembering his presence at Skyhold. She had mentioned him to both of them and they both had responded by asking: Who?
Nicholai seemed to have no problem remembering him, or Varric, or Cassandra for that matter. She found herself wondering what it was that made them so different that her young cousin or the Ambassador?
It might have been something worth exploring later.
The two had lapsed into a silence, it was not comfortable, but it was far from menacing either, she could hear the tap of the boy's heels on the wooden table leg as he moved his feet back and forth.
Finally, she could take the silence no longer.
She needed to know what was going on.
"Is there something you want of me?" she asked.
Still he did not meet her gaze, but he did tilt his head slightly.
"I wanted to see," he said.
"See what?" she replied.
"I heard people talking about you. Some fear you, others think that you need to be watched closely, or sent far away from the Inquisition, far away from the Herald."
The boy shrugged.
"I wanted to see why they think you are so dangerous."
Natalya smiled slyly; she thought she saw an opening, perhaps a way to win this spirit to her side. His abilities were useful. If he was properly yoked he could be a great asset.
"I'm no more dangerous than anyone else here," she said, "Some people are just jealous of me. They seek to get between me and my brother."
Cole did not respond as she though he would. She had thought to send him against anyone who would speak ill of her, yet he did not rise to that bait.
Blades flashing," He murmured, "Parry, block, kick, just as mother taught me, just as she had done before. Each step was flawless, perfect; anyone could see that, anyone would know that."
Cole shook his head.
"Father watching from the balcony, he does not smile, he does not nod, no matter what I do. For him, I want to shout, all for him, if only he would smile my way, if only he would see."
It was only then that Cole looked up at her, those strange sad eyes looked into her own green ones, and seemed to pierce her very soul. That gaze left her more naked that she had ever been before. If felt like her soul had been laid bare.
She shuddered under that piercing gaze, any lie or story she might have told died on her lips.
Cole was looking at her, and in that moment she was afraid.
"You hurt people," he said flatly.
She stammered, trying to find a reply, her hand began to slip under her pillow, seeking the dagger hidden there.
"I never…"
"You hurt people, "he repeated, not a threat or an accusation, just a simple statement of fact.
She tried to look away, now she knew what a rabbit must feel like when caught under the gaze of a hawk. She wanted to look away but she couldn't.
The spirit's power was too strong.
"Yes," she admitted, "I hurt people, for my family and my father I hurt people."
Cole blinked; his expression suggested confusion rather than anger.
"Why?" he asked.
"It was my duty," she said with a shrug, "What was expected of me."
Part of her wondered why had told him that, that part of her; it was likely the blackest part of her soul. It raged against the spirit boy.
Did it think itself better than her?
How dare it! She would be Queen of Nevarra one day.
How dare this…creature judge her?
"Why you," asked again, "why was it your duty rather than someone else? Why did you have to hurt? Why did you have to hurt others?"
Natalya frowned.
"I was my mother's daughter," she said, "It was her duty before me, and when she was gone, it became mine."
She sighed heavily.
"I became what my father needed me to be. He had lost my mother; it fell to me to continue her work, to prove myself worthy."
Cole bowed his head; he looked away from her, as if ashamed.
"You wanted to be real," he said, again a statement, not a question.
There were a dozen possible responses that Natalya could have given him, angry ones, mocking ones, even lies that could have tried to turn him to her advantage. She did not use them, not a one.
Instead she tried the truth, one word that was harder to say than any other, one single word.
"Yes."
He looked down at his hands, his feet swaying again. When he spoke she could barely hear him.
"I wanted to be real too," he said, "I thought I was a ghost. The people in the White Spire thought I was too. I killed some of them, to end the pain, to stop the hurt, and to make me more real."
He shook his head.
"That was wrong," he said, "I was wrong. I…I wanted to be real. I wanted to be real so bad."
The confession struck a strange cord in Natalya Song. What Cole was saying, it was not so hard to understand, not for her.
Not when she had spent so much time trying to be real too.
She looked at him, this strange young man that had watched over her, when no one else had.
Perhaps he is not so different after all, she thought to herself.
Perhaps we are more alike than we know.
"I want to be real too," she said.
He stopped swinging his legs and looked up at her, this time those sad eyes did not seem dangerous at all.
They were soft, looking for what? Forgiveness? Understanding?
She could not say for certain.
Forgiveness and understanding were hard to come by.
Especially from her.
They fell into a silence again, not uncomfortable, but…pregnant was possibilities.
Again, she spoke first.
"Will I forget about this?"
He looked up at her.
"Do you want to?"
She considered that. Maybe it was for the best that she forgot about this. The boy had opened up some old wounds. It might be for the best that she just forget, still…
"No," she said, "I don't want to forget."
Cole nodded.
"Alright," he said.
She gave him a sad look.
"Will you visit me again?"
Cole did not respond. There was a knocking at her door. Natalya heard one of the guards outside, asking if she was alright.
She turned to the desk but Cole was gone, he may have never been there to begin with.
She called out to the guard, everything was fine, she…she had had a bad dream.
The guard wished her good night and returned to his rounds.
Natalya Song leaned back, feeling more alone than she had ever felt before.
She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come.
"Will you come again," she murmured.
When the voice answered, it was barely a whisper, like a melody almost lost on the wind.
"Yes."
Natalya Song smiled.
"Good night, Cole," she murmured.
"Good night."
