A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Have a story update! All back to Skyhold for this one as Briala brings the news that far from Cicero being the last Di Rosso, there's actually a whole spy-assassin family now.
Summary: Marquise Briala's arrival at Skyhold causes a stir, not just regarding Rainier's fate but also as she meets with the Herald officially as Orlesian ruler, and what starts out as reporting a captured agent turns into something rather more personal for both Cicero and Leliana. There's both diplomatic consequences and emotions running high, as the newly revealed Di Rosso cousins have very different reactions...
"Well? Is that him?"
Former Lieutenant Cyril Mornay nodded, furious.
"Yes, ma'am, that's him. I'd know him anywhere, even with the beard. He said we were killing an enemy of Orlais! He said we'd get knighthoods! He said… he didn't say there'd be kids there. I still hear them..."
"Would you be willing to put all this in writing, with the officer here and the chaplain sister as witnesses," Briala said, feeling an unexpected sympathy for the man.
"Yes, ma'am," Mornay whispered. "Yes, anything you like."
"Good," Briala said, satisfied. She barely spared a glance for the man in the cell. He'd not met Mornay's eyes once. "Sergeant, meet with Sister Cherise and take his statement. In triplicate. Once that's done, he's free to go."
"Yes, Marqui- wait, you want us to release him?"
"Yes," Briala said, not entirely convinced this was a good idea… but the humans had their scapegoat in Rainier now. If Gaspard felt they should let Rainier's men go, she supposed she could assent. Let him have his small victories. "His Majesty was inclined to not hold Rainier's men responsible once it became clear Rainier had lied to them. Mornay, consider yourself pardoned. You are free of legal consequences for your crime. But you are also dishonourably discharged from the Orlesian Army and will not be permitted to re-enlist. You'll have to try your luck as a sellsword or maybe someone's private guard. Or… if the Inquisition will have you, you could talk to Commander Cullen, I suppose."
"Yes," Mornay whispered. "Yes, I could do that! Thank you, Marquise, I – you won't regret this!"
"I hope not," Briala sighed, turning and leaving the prison, returning to the keep where Elisif was waiting. She was sitting by the fire in what was usually Josephine's office, alone except for a few Inquisition guards, which she dismissed as Briala entered. No mask for the Herald, just a green and gold Fereldan noblewoman's dress. Ornate enough to show wealth, but not ostentatious. With a keep the size of Skyhold, the Inquisitor didn't really need to show off personally. Briala approved of that. She wished Orlais would follow suit one day. The Marquise mask was a heavy one.
"Well, did your prisoner confirm his identity?" Elisif asked, her face showing she likely already knew the answer, even as she poured wine for them both.
"It's him," Briala confirmed, accepting a glass and taking a seat. "Thank you, Inquisitor. You've done Orlais a service in unmasking him. They're already talking of little else in all the taverns we visited. From chevaliers to cleaners, everyone seems to have an opinion. Most are hoping he hangs… so I had a few of my people float the prospect of your idea. That shut everyone up. It turns out they all seem to think it's a fate worse than the gallows. It's for that reason I'm minded to agree. There will of course be observers to ensure he enters the… area?"
"It's an old Tevinter prison out in the Western Approach, we think it was built on an entrance to the Deep Roads," Elisif said, nodding as she sipped her own drink. "We've seen darkspawn coming from it but the sulphur pits stopped us getting to them. We've managed to sort that little obstacle out, but the darkspawn remain. I'm happy for you to send people to ensure Rainier starts down the road. I already have a party of Inquisition personnel accompanying him – two Wardens, one former Warden with Blight immunity, and the Blight Witch. Seems she wants to do some research in there."
Briala really didn't want to know what it involved, but she did agree this all seemed reasonable, and promised the Orlesians would co-operate.
"I hoped you'd say that," Elisif sighed, seeming relieved. Briala liked seeing Elisif happy, even if it did remind her of Celene and that brought a pain of its own. But Celene had let her down too many times and now she was dead. Briala couldn't spend her life mourning a ghost.
"But you could have just written, you didn't need to come in person," Elisif added, putting her glass down. "Is there something else?"
Briala hesitated, because while she wanted to be a friend to Tamriel on a personal level, on a political level she represented Orlais now. All Orlais. And she couldn't just ignore the larger ramifications of all this. No, best to start out hostile or at least accusatory and allow herself to be placated.
"How long exactly has Tamriel had spies in Orlais, and what are they doing here," Briala said softly, watching Elisif carefully for a reaction.
Shock on Elisif's face, swiftly hidden but enough for Briala to know Elisif knew damn well about the agents.
"I'm afraid I don't know..." Elisif began, and Briala lost patience.
"Don't give me that, I know you know!" Briala snapped. "Elisif, I value your friendship a great deal but we have one of them in custody. Evidence they've been here for over forty years. So tell me. How long has your Empire been watching us. What do you want."
"I..." Elisif looked away, cheeks pink, and then she lowered her head, an unfamiliar expression on her face. Shame. Shame? From the Herald of Andraste? Unthinkable but there it was.
"I don't know," Elisif admitted. "Officially, I was never even briefed on their existence back home. I'm heir to the throne, but no one back home has even heard of you! The spy network here is so high-level only the Emperors ever knew it even existed. They never even told me as heir to the Ruby Throne. So I can't tell you but I know it's been a long time. As to what we want… maybe we took one look at a continent riven by Blight and dominated intellectually and theologically by a monotheistic cult that won't stop until the world's under its thumb and believes all non-humans are inferior, and wanted nothing to do with it!"
Elisif's voice had risen in anger, and Briala actually flinched back from the force of it… before she remembered she ran Orlais now, she didn't have to flee from angry humans any more.
Except Elisif's anger had faded as soon as it had begun.
"Briala, you can't tell me you're all right with human supremacy. You had your own spy network organised to fight it. You can't blame us for finding you, taking one look at the place, setting up spies to keep an eye on things and make sure no one was launching any voyages of exploration to Tamriel any time soon, then electing to keep you a closely-guarded secret. It would still be that way… if I hadn't ended up here."
"Because you prayed to your gods for a miracle for your husband and got it… and the price was you coming here to help," Briala sighed, remembering the story. "Well, you've certainly made an impression, I'll grant you that. And you can promise me you never intended to turn up. That all your Empire has done is watch."
"As far as I know, yes," Elisif promised. "I'll need to get home and review the archives to really know… but honestly, I think most of Thedosian history's looked pretty inevitable. Whatever our spies have done, it's likely only ever taken advantage of things already going on. We didn't start the mage rebellion. Or the Blights. Or have anything to do with the rise of Corypheus."
"I do believe you," Briala admitted, because in all honesty, she knew full well the humans here were quite capable of screwing up the world on their own, and Andrastian Chantry values were nothing like Tamrielic ones. She couldn't imagine Tamriel supporting the regime she'd campaigned against all her life. She could have wished they'd intervened though.
Well, here they were now, weren't they? The future Empress sitting right across from her.
"Thank you," Elisif said softly. "So, this agent. How'd you find them? What have they told you. Are they in a lot of trouble? I'm prepared to negotiate for their release but I need to know the circumstances first."
Briala closed her eyes, her turn to feel shame now – shame and a slow burning anger towards her predecessors, to humans in general and to the Chantry who preached elven inferiority in the first place. And who'd put her in the position of having to tell the Empress of Tamriel that they'd broken one of her people.
"Elisif, it's not that simple," Briala said wearily. "We didn't capture him recently. He was arrested in the early years of the Dragon Age, 9:3 or 9:4 I think. And it wasn't for espionage. He was a bard, a successful one too. His origins were murky but no one was looking too hard into them. Not until he used his healing magic on the bard he'd been on assignment with. That bard turned him in to the Templars. Apostasy was the charge, not spywork."
Elisif had gone quiet as she listened. Far too quiet.
"So how did you find out he was a spy," Elisif said, frowning at her. "And what happened. He can't have been with the rebel mages, he'd have identified himself by now, surely?"
"The Chantry wanted to know just how an apostate had gone hidden for so long, and who'd trained him," Briala said, hand gripping her chair as she avoided Elisif's eyes. "Normally when a thirty-something apostate is brought in, their magic's out of control or driving them insane. His wasn't. He was a fully-trained mage and a very skilled bard, and yet when the Chantry investigated his background, they found nothing. The Orlesian government was called in and also found nothing. They thought he might be a Tevinter spy, but Tevinter officially denied it. He never said anything, he refused to talk. In the end, all we had on him was the apostasy, so the Chantry took over his case. The then Divine ordered him made Tranquil. Elisif, I'm sorry."
Elisif was staring at her, appalled, and for a few seconds, she did nothing. Then with a cry of rage, she reached out, swiped the entire contents of the table – jug, plates, vase of flowers, expensive Orlesian wine and the tray it was on flying into the fire.
The noise attracted attention and the door to the main hall flew open, Inquisition soldiers and Briala's elven guards storming in, all wanting to know if their respective employers were all right.
Briala clearly was but all eyes were on Elisif, who really wasn't. But she composed herself regardless.
"Can someone fetch my husband. Both of them, why not. And… and someone to clear this up. Please tell the servants I'm sorry."
Nice of her, and within moments a crew of servants, a mix of elven and human, descended, all gathering up silverware and removing it, and one teenage boy with a mop and bucket who mopped the wine up with considerable efficiency. By the time they were done, Madanach and Alistair had both arrived, both looking questionably at Briala. Alistair had gone to Elisif's side, holding her hand, while Madanach ushered everyone else out of the room and closed all doors, casting some manner of detection spell for good measure.
"All right, someone want to tell me what's going on?" Madanach said, outwardly calm but eyes were boring into Briala. "Why's Elisif upset."
Briala was about to answer but it was Elisif who spoke. In her own language, directed at Madanach, angry, resentful, fed up… and Madanach went to her, put his arms around her, spared a pat on the shoulder for a confused Alistair, and kissed Elisif on the cheek, head resting on her neck as he said something back to her in the same language, words aimed at comforting her, promising something. Then he looked up, expression hardening.
"So this agent. Is he still alive? Does – did he have any family? Do we have next of kin to notify? Are they even likely to care?"
Would devout Andrastian kin care about an apostate mage, which was odd considering that a Tamrielic agent's kin would be living in Tamriel, surely?
Briala filed that piece of information away, because the idea of Tamrielic agents living here with their families of origin also living here and living as Andrastians was a deeply concerning one. How would you recruit someone who'd lived the life of a privileged human Andrastian all their lives? Briala recalled Cicero Senior having a wife and child and realising that perhaps you did it by parenting them. Which meant Tamrielic bloodlines potentially all over Thedas and…
Breathe, Briala. You wanted to change the world, didn't you?
"My agents found out he'd married in secret and had a wife and a child on the way. I don't think the Chantry hierarchy ever knew. His wife was dead within five years of his arrest. She was a servant in a noble's household, and that noblewoman raised the child as a fosterling. The child wasn't even born when they took her father. I don't think she knows much about him. As for his family of origin – he had a sister back in Cyrodiil with a son. I only know that from interviewing him personally. His sister is dead. His nephew lives. But few would know the connection if you didn't know them both. I wondered, but never knew for sure until I had in fact spoken with them both."
Silence and then Alistair broke it.
"Wait, how'd you even meet a Tamrielic man over here? Aren't the agents hiding the fact. I mean, you were only supposed to know Madanach, Borkul and Cicero were even from there. Madanach, did you have a long-lost uncle?"
"No," Madanach said grimly, at the same time as Elisif whispered Cicero's name in a shocked voice.
"Yes," Briala admitted. "Maker, I knew they were kin the moment I laid eyes on the elder one. I already suspected he was from Tamriel somehow. I did not think to look at his face and realise I saw it last in the Winter Palace. But it is him. Once I told him I knew, he admitted all. Your captured agent is called Cicero Di Rosso, and his nephew was clearly named after him."
"Did you know he had an Uncle Cicero? Either of you?" Madanach asked Elisif and Alistair, who both shook their head.
"No, but why would he tell anyone if he believed his uncle had died years ago," Elisif said, wiping a tear away. "That's if he even knew. Mara, we need to tell him. We need to get that poor man to Skyhold and look into the Tranquil cure."
"The cure's simple enough, it's the after-effects that bother me," Madanach said, nodding. "But either Eola or I could do it. We need to tell Cicero first though, and he will not react well."
"There is something else," Briala said, not envying the task of breaking the news to Cicero. "The child. She's a grown woman now. It was looking into her parentage that first put me on the trail to the elder Di Rosso. Her mother was known, but her father not. I was curious and went looking and I found him. I believe she deserves to know. Your spymaster, Leliana. She needs to know her father's alive and would have loved her dearly if he'd not had that taken from him. By the Chantry. If the Inquisition can undo at least some of the harm… she might be grateful. And if elected Divine, might steer the Chantry on a better path."
"That she might," Madanach said softly, smile starting to appear on his face.
"Leliana and Cicero are cousins," Elisif said faintly. "Goodness. You know, now you tell me, I can see it."
But it was Alistair who's reaction concerned Briala the most, as he looked up from where he was kneeling, horrified.
"The Chantry tranquillised Leli's dad. And… and that's the reason… if he'd trained her instead of Marjolaine… fuck, he'd probably have killed Marjolaine himself for interfering."
"Alistair, wait, who's Marjolaine?" Elisif cried as Alistair got up and prepared to leave. "Alistair!"
Alistair paused, Elisif's voice calling him back like little else could.
"The reason she is like she is," Alistair said, emotion choking his words. "She's the bitch who taught her the world was a dog-eat-dog place where no one could be trusted and anything was permissible. Fucking hell, Thuri."
Elisif got up and placed a hand on Alistair's back, gently turning him around and taking him in her arms.
"Then we'll tell her. Together."
That seemed to calm him, and Elisif turned her attention back to Briala, who'd been starting to feel just a little uncomfortable.
"Thank you, Briala. This is… this isn't the news I'd expected and I'm still not entirely sure it's welcome but… thank you. Madanach, can you get Josephine and get her to see to Briala's needs? I don't even know if you know where your quarters are yet."
"That would be most welcome," Briala said, feeling suddenly relieved for that to be over… and that the job of breaking the news to Cicero and Leliana wasn't going to be her job.
It was possible Leliana didn't care about the father she'd never met. It was possible Cicero barely even remembered he had an uncle. But Briala didn't rate those chances very high… and Sister Nightingale and Red Cicero both developing personal grudges against the Chantry didn't bear thinking about.
Still. Briala was a Marquise, not a Revered Mother. Order in Orlais was her main concern. Let the humans argue over faith. She had Gaspard's chevaliers to stop any violence… and if Ferelden could have its own Chantry, maybe the elves could follow suit.
Leliana was in the Skyhold garret as always, paperwork in front of her, passing a treat to one of the birds as she went over a letter, one of the rebel mages standing behind her awkwardly.
"Will that be all, Sister?" the mage said. "Only I need to get that resealed and passed on to Enchanter Vivienne before she realises we intercepted her mail."
"Yes, yes, of course," Leliana said, distracted and passing the letter back. "See Dagna first for a copy to be made and passed back to me." She glanced up to see Alistair arriving, outstripping Elisif whose dress was holding her back.
"Alistair! Good to see you, take a seat. And… Herald. I was going to look for you. An interesting piece of information has reached my ears. Did you know Marquise Briala visited the Montsimmard Circle before coming here? And left two agents behind her. Specifically, those old friends of Cole's you wanted us to find. It seems Madame la Marquise got there first and has recruited them. Would either of you know why they've appointed themselves the personal bodyguards of the master alchemist there? He's an elderly Tranquil, he's hardly a threat."
Of course Leliana knew. Although it complicated matters if a report was going to Vivienne. It was her Circle after all.
"Elisif," Alistair whispered, holding out a hand to her as she emerged from up the stairs. "Elisif, Leliana's intercepted a letter to Vivienne informing her about… you know. Rhys and Evangeline being at her Circle and serving as you-know-who's bodyguards."
"Well, I suppose that's one thing off the to-do list," Elisif sighed. "All right, if Leliana wants answers, she can have them. Leliana! We were just coming to brief you. Can we… talk? In private?"
Leliana frowned, blue eyes narrowing, the hood framing an oval face and red hair, and while her elven mother doubtless contributed much, the Di Rosso resemblance was there to see if you knew to look.
"As you wish," she said, and while Elisif was doing her best to hide her nerves, Alistair's feelings were written all over his face.
"This is going to be awful," Alistair whispered to Elisif. Elisif nodded and took his hand, following Leliana out to the relative privacy of Skyhold's balcony.
"What did you wish to tell me that couldn't be said in front of my agents," Leliana said, clasping her hands as she stared out into the courtyard. Elisif took a deep breath, seeing Alistair stand on Leliana's other side, and prepared to break the news.
"It's about that elderly Tranquil," Elisif began. "He's..."
"Leli, he's your dad," Alistair blurted out. "The Chantry arrested your dad and made him Tranquil… but it's him, he's alive and at Montsimmard. We can get him here, give him the Tranquil cure, you can have your dad back!"
Someone was getting a stern talking-to later. But that was less important than Leliana's reaction… or lack thereof. She hadn't even looked up, although her fingers had tightened, hands clasping that bit tighter as she gritted her teeth.
"Leliana?" Elisif asked, concerned. She'd expected shock, anger, even tears… but not this. "Are you all right?"
Slowly, Leliana lifted her head, cold stare turning to her.
"Do you honestly think I didn't know."
Elisif had not seen that coming, although thinking about it, perhaps she should have. Alistair clearly hadn't seen it either because he'd gone rather pale.
"What? What do you mean you-"
"Knew?" Leliana snapped, turning on Alistair. "I was the Left Hand of the Divine for seven years, of course I knew. Do you honestly think I never looked into it? Even as a bard, I was able to find out his name, that he did marry my mother, and that the Chantry arrested him. As Left Hand, I found out so much more. That he lived and was at the White Spire as a Formari alchemist, one of the best. That Divine Beatrix feared she could never trust him not to cause trouble and made him Tranquil. Yes, I knew. Yes, I had this conversation with Justinia already. Yes, I took my anger and upset out on her. She was the one to bear it and comfort me. And she was the one who made sure he was taken care of. When the mages rebelled, she and I both made sure he stayed in Val Royeaux, and we later got him moved to Montsimmard. Yes, Alistair, I knew. The question is, why is Briala looking into my past? What's her game? Is she after blackmail material? A hold over me? I'm not a mage myself… but if she has guards on my father… Rhys and Evangeline of all people? She has to know they put principles first! She must have people of her own there too, of course. But why guard him. Why draw attention to him? Can't she just leave well alone? It must be a plot, it has to be."
"Leli, she came straight here and told us," Alistair said softly. "She didn't have to! I think she thought… we all thought you had no idea!"
"Well, maybe you don't know me as well as you thought," Leliana said grimly. "Herald, if there's nothing else…?"
"Nothing else – he's your father, Leliana, you must feel something!" Elisif cried. "He's the only parent you have left! Have you ever even visited him?"
Leliana stopped, flinching a little at that, tension leaving her shoulders.
"No. What would be the point," Leliana sighed, turning to face her. "I'm thirty six years old, Elisif. I don't need a parent. And he's Tranquil. Whatever my feelings may be, he doesn't have any now. I should go and see him and break my own heart for a man who can never feel the same? No. This is my burden to bear and it is no concern of anyone else's. I keep an eye on him from afar. I ensure he has everything he needs. I ensure he is not ill-treated. It is all I can do. Now, if you don't mind, I have my own agents to brief. I don't know what Briala's up to, but I will find out."
Leliana stepped away, clearly intending to return to her work, and Alistair was staring helplessly at Elisif, perhaps aware he'd crossed a line earlier, and it occurred to Elisif they did have information Leliana didn't, didn't they. Because there was no way she could have known about the Tamriel connection.
"She's trying to prevent diplomatic consequences from your Chantry having Tranquillised a foreign national," Elisif said calmly. "Perhaps it started off as a desire to have something on you, or just idle curiosity, but you can't tell me Marquise Briala doesn't have an interest in investigating a foreign spy ring."
Leliana spun round, eyes wide.
"What? A foreign spy – no. He's not. Those Across The Sea?"
Elisif nodded, folding her arms, her turn to stare down Leliana now.
"He's from the Imperial City. Cyrodiil itself. He had family there, you know? A sister. A nephew. Imperial officials had to tell that sister her brother was dead. We had no more idea how to reverse Tranquillity than you did. It turns out Reach-magic can do it, but we didn't have the King of the Reachmen on our side back then. So don't tell me this is no one's business but yours. Tamriel wants its lost son back. And Cicero Di Rosso Junior might want to see his uncle again. Madanach's telling him now."
"Cesaire LaRose wasn't his real name," Leliana whispered, face going ashen. "Maker, of course he had a pseudonym. He's… Cicero Di Rosso Senior?"
Elisif nodded, now feeling a bit guilty over breaking the news to her like this, because finding out you were kin to Cicero had got to be quite the blow. Leliana had sunk back against the wall, staring out into space.
"Are you all right?" Elisif whispered.
"Cicero – our Cicero – is my cousin," Leliana managed to get out.
"Afraid so," Alistair said, laughing nervously. "He's not that bad, you know! I mean, yes he's a bit… well, you know. But he's also really friendly and he always liked you!"
Leliana shook her head, hand over her face and Elisif realised that Leliana had started to cry, letting out a sob.
"Oh no," Elisif whispered. "I'm sorry!"
"Leli," Alistair gasped, moving towards her, and Leliana shoved him away.
"No!" Leliana cried. "You don't get it, do you. I'd dealt with this. I'd put it away. I'd got over it, and now you turn up, all of you, upsetting everything, telling me I've got a cousin, and I'm half-Tamrielic, and my father might be… might be coming here and he might be getting cured and then I've got to deal with him – with everything! Maker, what have you done?"
Elisif said nothing, because this was all very clearly directed at Alistair, who was staring at her with his eyebrows knotted together, lips pouting and sad eyes that could win over most people definitely not winning Leliana over.
Or maybe he was getting to her emotionally. That, Elisif realised, might be the problem.
"Leli, I'm sorry… didn't you want a family?" Alistair whispered. And Leliana shook her head.
"I'm not you, Alistair!" Leliana shot back. "I have my life the way I want it, the way it needs to be! I don't need relatives to worry about. I don't need connections! Connections are a weakness. Connections are something your enemies can use against you. Connections are… I already have to worry about Briala now having a hold over me via my father, and now you tell me I need to worry about Cicero in the field as well. About someone targeting him?"
"I don't know if you need to worry about that..." Elisif said, knowing full well no one was going to try anything with Cicero. She'd already heard from Leliana herself that most of the bards in Orlais had already informally decided to give him a wide berth.
"No? I should pity the ones fool enough to target Red Cicero?" Leliana laughed bitterly. "They said the same about my father forty years ago. Now look at him. You can never be too paranoid."
"Leli, everyone needs loved ones," Alistair whispered. "Look, having a mum again and getting to know her was hard, I know, but it was worth everything. I love her to bits and I'm so much happier knowing there's someone out there who's glad I'm alive. When he's had the Tranquil cure… it's worth it, I promise."
"Cassandra says that cure restores your emotions but you're never in control of them again," Leliana said, shaking her head, eyes narrowed. "Whatever emerges from it will not be the man he was. I… Inquisitor, forgive me. I need some time to think on all this."
"All right," Elisif said, letting her go and taking Alistair's hand in hers. "Take the rest of the day off. See how you're feeling later."
Leliana nodded and left, leaving her alone with Alistair, who as soon as Leliana had gone, pulled Elisif into his arms for a hug.
"I'm sorry," Alistair said, stroking her back. "I didn't know she'd react like that, let alone that she already knew… but perhaps I should have. Did we do the right thing?"
"She needed to know," Elisif said, closing her eyes. "And that we knew. The rest is down to her. We can't just spring new family relatives on her and expect her to be pleased. You said you cried your eyes out when Fiona finally told you and you were also really really angry. Leliana must be feeling the same and you know what she's like. Emotions are a weakness."
"If they're a weakness, why aren't Tranquil ruling the world," Alistair said, shaking his head. "I don't know, I just… wish I could reach her. Or if not me, someone!"
"I hope so too, but there's little we can do," Elisif sighed. "Come on, let's check on Cicero."
Cicero by contrast had been down in Eola's lab, helping with something, and to Madanach's great surprise, he found him dressed from head to toe in protective gear, hands in a set of gloves which were attached to a glass box containing a darkspawn kidney, dissecting it and dictating notes to one of the Tranquil.
"Look, friend, see how many nephrons it has compared to the nug control. Look how many more of them there are and how densely packed. No wonder poisons and toxins do not affect them, they can filter out nearly anything with these. And! There are new ones growing in from the medulla, look. Proof they can regenerate organs!"
"Yes, sir. Do you wish me to sketch it for you. Did you also wish me to count the nephrons?"
Cicero looked up from where his scalpel was prodding the kidney, blinking in response.
"Er… an estimate will do. But a sketch is welcome! Also please remember, your shift finishes at eight, yes? Remember to clock off."
"Yes, sir. Eola has repeatedly told us none of us are to work more than forty hours a week without her express agreement, and that we are to take regular breaks."
"So she has," Cicero purred. "See that you do, my friend."
Cicero glanced up and noticed Madanach watching from the restricted zone near the door. Sliding his hands out of the gloves and placing the tools to one side, Cicero skipped over to where Madanach was waiting.
"Hello, hello! I am helping with the Blight research. Did you know darkspawn can regenerate their organs? Well, kidneys anyway."
"I did not know that. Nor did I know you were actually taking part. Are you, er, having fun?"
"Oh yes, yes!" Cicero cackled. "I always did like poking around body parts, wondering what they did. Now Cicero is allowed! It is no longer creepy and disturbing and a desecration of someone's dead relative, it is valuable research! I'm having a very good time. Anyway, Reach-King, did you need anything?"
"Yeah. We need to talk. Had some new information come to light, Briala just brought it in. Is Eola around? We should have Eola there too."
Cicero nodded, stripping off his protective gear and placing it carefully in its containers before washing his hands and indicating for Madanach to do it too.
"Cicero, I never even touched-"
"Wash your hands, Reach-King. You came up with this protocol, you adhere to it too. Cicero will overlook the disgraceful lack of personal protective equipment. That you keep telling everyone else to wear at all times in the Blight labs."
Madanach muttered but complied, not really having the moral high ground on this one. Once out of the restricted areas, Cicero pointed out Eola, who was diligently studying her own notes from the dark future.
"There! She is rather busy, but she will not mind you interrupting."
Probably not, no, and Eola was glancing up with a smile to see them both approaching.
"Hey. Surprise to see you down here, father. Is everything all right? You don't normally go to the trouble of fetching Cicero out of wherever he is unless he's in trouble. Wait, he's not in trouble, is he?"
Cicero's smile faded as he glanced uncertainly up at Madanach.
"I don't think so? Cicero hasn't done anything lately. Cicero has followed orders and behaved! Sera and I haven't pranked anyone in weeks!"
Not since the bucket on the door incident in Josephine's quarters, intended for either Josephine herself or the next important idiot she entertained… but it had caught Maia instead and her wails had brought half the keep running. Cicero and Sera had both ended up in the stocks, with Maia being allowed to throw the first bucket of water over them. Sera had had no regrets, claiming it had got people talking and laughing and that had been the ultimate goal. Oddly, Cicero had been the one to feel horribly guilty to this day and spent the intervening time fussing over Maia and bringing her treats. Wonders would never cease.
But that wasn't important. What was important is that Cicero's family had just got bigger.
"No, nothing like that. Cicero… what do you remember about your Uncle Cicero? Anything?"
Cicero had gone very still, facial expression near unreadable as he stared back at Madanach, even while Eola wanted to know what he was talking about, Cicero didn't even have an uncle, did he?
"You never once mentioned your ma having any siblings, and Kodlak Whitemane never had a brother called Cicero!"
Cicero didn't seem to listen, still staring at Madanach. When he finally spoke, the foolishness and jollity had dropped from his voice, erased in a second as Cicero the Man took control.
"What do you know of my Uncle Cicero, Reach-King."
"You do remember him, then," Madanach said, which made this whole conversation a little less awkward at least. Cicero nodded.
"Yes, of course I do, he visited twice a year ever since I can remember and wrote letters in between times! He sent the most marvellous toys for my birthday and New Life, no one had ever seen the like! And he told the best stories and… we saw him last the New Life Festival before my ninth birthday. He seemed happy about something but also sad, and said he might not be able to visit as much but would still write. But he never got me anything for my ninth birthday and then two men from the Legion visited Mama and… and they said he'd died in action. She cried for days. I cried! I missed him. I still… I still think of him sometimes. But… but I never told any of you any of this, not even Eola. How did… how did you know. You said Briala brought it in?"
"Upstairs," was all Madanach felt up to saying. "I'll tell you everything."
Cicero sat on the chaise longue in the Inquisitorial bedchamber, head in his hands, Eola rubbing his back and staring at her father, both of them shocked beyond words to hear all this.
"Leli is Cicero's cousin," Eola finally said faintly. "Huh. That figures. You know, I always thought she was pretty. I guess I know why now. She does look a bit like you."
"Yes," Cicero said softly. "Yes she does. Cozina mia is a true Di Rosso. And… my uncle is not dead. He did not forget my birthday. He was just unable..."
Cicero covered his face with his hands, hunched over and letting out one single sob. Not the piteous pouting and whining and melodramatic overacting he normally deigned to employ whenever things weren't going his way. Madanach realised this was Cicero's real emotions, and when he finally looked up, there were tears rolling down his cheeks.
"They made him Tranquil," Cicero whispered. "My Uncle Cicero. The Chantry cut him off from everything he cared about, his family, his life, everything! For using magic."
"But there's a cure, right?" Eola said, turning hopeful eyes on Madanach as she squeezed her husband's hand. "We can get him back here and fix him!"
"And he wakes to find his youth gone and his sister gone and his wife gone and Nine are now Eight and the daughter he never knew is a woman now," Cicero snarled, eyes narrowing. "Some cure!"
Then his shoulders sagged and the anger seemed to fade.
"But it is an improvement on what he has now," Cicero said softly. "He will still have his sweet niposito. Leliana is never going to give him grandchildren, but he has two grandnieces he should know about. He will likely rage and be angry, but for my beloved uncle, I shall bear it. Only have Alistair nearby in case of magical reactions. Just in case."
"I'll see what I can do," Madanach promised. "He should be safe enough for now at Montsimmard. But with your agreement, we really ought to retrieve him. I just wanted to know if you even knew you had an uncle."
Cicero nodded, smiling despite the tears still on his cheeks, getting to his feet then kissing Eola on the forehead.
"Pretty one, Cicero is sorry. Cicero has to go to Montsimmard. I cannot… I must see him. You understand, yes?"
"Of course," Madanach said, at the same time as Eola kissed her husband's hand and nodded.
"You go find him, sweetie," Eola told him. "I'm needed for Blackwall's trial, especially as the stubborn bastard turned down the vaccine. And Da and Elisif already said no to forcing it on him in his sleep."
"Consent is important, Eola," Madanach felt obliged to remind her. "You're only allowed to override that to save his life or if he's too incapacitated to give an opinion on his treatment. And don't you even dare incapacitate him yourself."
"Wouldn't dream of it, father," Eola said, far too innocently, and Madanach decided he should probably check the on-call mage healer rota for the prisons, just in case Eola had written herself into it. Because that would definitely be the night Blackwall had a mysterious 'seizure' requiring immediate medical attention if he was any judge.
"You know what, Cicero, you should get on the road immediately," Madanach told him. "Time is of the essence!" There, that'd get the likely poisoner in chief out of Skyhold, wouldn't it.
"I will, I will!" Cicero enthused. "I am off to pack immediately. If I do not see her, tell Leliana I will take care of her papa for her!"
Cicero ran out of the room without further ado. Madanach and Eola watched him go, Eola's face turning sombre as he left.
"Do you think he's going to be all right," Eola said softly. "It's not going to be the uncle he remembers. He might not get that uncle back even after the cure!"
"No, but I think he knows that," Madanach sighed. "But he thought he was dead. He was a nine year old boy once whose birthday present and letter never arrived and he thought his uncle didn't love him any more. Having his uncle back in any form is better than what he had before."
"I hope so," Eola said, and while little usually troubled her, she always had it in her to worry about her Cicero. Cicero the Elder might have been robbed of his emotions, but Cicero the Younger still had his… and he was a lot more vulnerable than he ever let on.
A/N: Cicero was always going to be really emotional but at the same time really pleased and excited. Writing the two Ciceros interacting is already proving to be quite the trip! Leliana though, I couldn't get to grips with her reaction at all. Until it occurred to me maybe the Left Hand of the Divine might already have researched the matter herself, and then her reaction went very smoothly indeed.
Next chapter, Vivienne's reaction to the Marquise of the Dales poking around her Circle, a bit of entertainment involving a new pairing, and then Cicero's off to Montsimmard, moving as quickly as only an obsessed werewolf with a demon horse can.
