Drag
Naishe had taken what Luis said very seriously. Too masculine?
"I'll give you masculine."
An overwhelming sense of déjà vu spread through Naishe. The last time she'd tried to get her own back when Luis had said she wasn't ladylike enough, it hadn't ended well for her. But Naishe was not about to lie down and take it. Not without a fight.
Naishe had a plan. It was ridiculous, but it was something. She couldn't leave the house looking like herself. She might be able to leave if she was someone else…
She rose late the day after their last argument, when she was sure Luis would have already left the house. Luis' room was always left unlocked so servants could come in and clean. Naishe thought it showed an extreme lack of self-awareness for a business partner of a league of assassins to keep this little security over his personal belongings, but she wasn't complaining. She'd noticed added guards situated on the ground floor, presumably to keep an eye on her. Maybe he wanted to lock away his belongings after all. His drawers were filled with expensive robes, hats and pantaloons. Gorgeous leather boots lined the walls. It was easy pickings. Naishe chose a sleek navy blue coat, a white cotton shirt, black leather trousers and black boots. When she took the trousers, Naishe eyed the blazing sun outside. She'd be sweating like a pig, but she wanted to look the part. She stared at her reflection in one of Luis' many mirrors. A passing glance at the clothes wouldn't arouse much suspicion, but her face was a dead giveaway that she was a woman. Antivan noblewomen tended to dress to emphasise their best features. Low-cut gowns and transparent fabrics were almost staple. A woman in men's clothing could draw attention.
"Hmmm…"
An idea occurred to her. She grabbed one of Luis' hairbrushes and called for one of the servants to bring paints, an easel and canvas to her room.
"Is this what you were after, miss? Ser. L-Lady Mali-Kricco." Hamaal stammered. "Apologies serah, I can never remember…"
"It doesn't matter," she smiled and took the paints from him, "Naishe is fine. Would you mind making sure I am not disturbed? I can't concentrate otherwise." She nodded at the canvas.
"Yes of course! I'll make sure…Naishe." The elf bowed and left.
Within five minutes, Naishe was pulling on Luis' clothes. She wrapped a long piece of cloth tightly around her chest to try and suppress her ample bosom before donning the shirt and coat, then squinted into the mirror. Harsher features might make her face look less feminine. She made a few experimental lines along her jaw and cheekbones with a diluted hickory coloured paint. She'd watched Hari do something similar on occasion to break up her more defining features when a disguise was required. Many of her con victims were keen to get their hands on her. Naishe's hands weren't as skilled as her mother's, but darkening the areas under her cheekbones, eyes and jaw gave the desired effect.
When undiluted, the paint she was using was quite viscous. Thick enough to stick hair to. Within an hour, Naishe had pulled clumps of Luis' own hair out of his hairbrush, trimmed them, and stuck them to her face. The idea was to give her the illusion of stubble. It looked more like costume of a poor actor, but it would have to do. She'd thickened her eyebrows and tied her hair back. It had grown a lot since she had come to Antiva. Naishe was pleased with the overall result. Her appearance was only cause for doubt if you looked hard enough. It wouldn't be an issue unless she ran into anyone she knew.
Naishe grinned at her reflection in the mirror. She thought her male counterpart looked rather dashing. The house servants had followed her request and left her undisturbed. She would have liked to have shown Clarissa her new disguise.
A pang of guilt washed over Naishe. No. Now was not the time to dwell.
She stepped out onto her balcony and peered over the edge. The vines that twisted around the entire estate ran just underneath the balcony. Naishe swung her legs over the railing and leant a foot experimentally against the plant. It seemed sturdy enough to hold her weight. Naishe gingerly descended. When she reached the ground, she briefly considered taking one of the horses and riding it into town. It wasn't worth the risk. The servants might assume she was just cooped up in her room again but a missing horse could draw attention. She had learned from her mother that if you walked anywhere with confidence, you were seldom stopped. The sun was setting, so she had the darkness on her side. Miraculously, there didn't seem to be any guards in sight.
The writer would like to point out here that whilst it may seem unbelievably convenient that there were no guards present to witness Naishe climb down the side of the house and apprehend her, this is not the product of lazy writing. You have my word.
Naishe took a breath, and marched past the edge of the estate towards the path down to the city.
"Serah! Who goes there?!"
A couple of the house guards had seen and jogged over to meet her.
Naishe bowed her head, hoping the shadow cast from one of the drake statues would hide her more recognisable features. She deepened her voice and said in her best attempt at an Antivan accent, "Lady Mali-Kricco requested blood oranges. I'll be back within the hour."
"Oranges?"
"Yes. I shouldn't keep her waiting." Naishe gestured vaguely behind her. "I trust you investigated the broken window?"
"Window?" There was a clink of metal as one guard looked at the other. "What broken window?"
"Yes. By the kitchen. I am sure of it." She pretended to sneeze so she could cover her face. "Better hurry. Lord Mali-Kricco will string us all up if something is stolen."
The guards must have shared her sentiments because they promptly turned tail and jogged back towards the house.
Naishe smirked and did a little bow to a peacock who'd witnessed the scene.
The road into the heart of the city was long. But the evening was warm, and the waves of the bay were calm. Antivans were lively at this time of day, so it wasn't difficult for Naishe to blend into the crowd. The likelihood of being spotted now was slim. Luis had mentioned something about a gallery, so as long as she steered clear of those she should be fine.
Naishe walked along the Boulevard of the Seas. It was her favourite street in Antiva City. Turquoise paving tiles polished to a sheen, winking up at her in the setting sun. She heard a wolf-whistle behind her and was surprised to see the perpetrator was a Qunari.
"Hey handsome! You lost?" He was surrounded by a group of jeering lackies.
Naishe kept walking. At least she knew the disguise was working. She'd received similar comments both in Rivain at in Luis' house. But she'd never heard them from a Qunari before. Her catcaller was the antithesis of all the callous unforgiving brutes she was more acquainted with. It was strangely pleasant to see one of them behaving this way. Naishe didn't know much about the Tal-Vashoth. They were careful not to show their faces in Rivain.
"What's the matter baby? Why the hurry?"
Well, there were idiots in every race.
She stumbled across a bazaar and was greatly drawn to a number of stalls. Sparkling jewels glittered behind thick glass casing. Mysterious runes to enhance weapons and armour. A pen of baby nuggalopes squeaked and butted their fence enclosure with their horns. Naishe felt sympathetic.
Most intriguingly, Naishe spotted a woman offering tarot card readings. It was something she'd seen performed many times as a child. She walked over to the haggard old woman. She had a twirly green moustache that was wider than her hips.
"Aaaaahhh…Anuhzur soul approaches…" She waved her hands in circles as though about to cast a spell. "Ah am a master of deeveenation, known across zhe lands. Would you like to 'ear what zhe spirits say of your future?"
"How-" Naishe cleared her throat and tried to deepen her voice, "How much will it cost me, seer?"
"Ah am not a seeeer. Ah am Zhe Mystique!" She flailed a limbs some more.
"Right. How much, Mystic?"
"True enlightenment of all zat eez to come transcends zhe trivial limitations of man-made value such as currency!"
Naishe waited for the 'but'.
"'owever, eet costs Zhe Mystique great spiritual mana. My price eez ten gold pieces, young wanderer!"
Naishe rolled her eyes. The fee was extortionate but it was Luis' money and she was happy to burn it. She fished some gold out of her coin purse and gave it to The Mystic.
"Aaaaahhhh. Ah feel zhe Fade growing clearer now! Ah see what was, what eez, and what eez still to come! Step eento my tent and you will learn zhe truth!"
The theatricality amused Naishe, and she followed the woman into the tiny tent and sat down on a flimsy stool. The tarot card were stacked on the table.
The Mystic sat opposite Naishe and began clumsily shuffling the cards. Every time she dropped one she was say something like, "Aaaaah! Zhe spirits are excited!" or "Per'aps more gold would 'elp me see your prophesy…"
Naishe bit her tongue so as not to laugh.
The woman spread the cards out on the table and looked at Naishe. "Choose seven cards one at a time and unlock your destinyyy."
The Rivain tapped the first card.
"Aaahhh…Zhe Fool…"
"Off to a good start…"
"Non! Eet eez a good omen. Let go of your expectations and trust your eensteencts."
"Oh. Well…Alright." She picked another card.
"Eenteresting. Zhe 'anged Man. Accept zhe consequences of your decisions."
Naishe decided to ignore this piece of advice for the moment, feeling uncomfortable.
"Ah believe ah am right een thinking you are at a crossroads een your life?"
"I suppose..?"
"Oui. Zhe Mystique knows. Zhe card means you may wipe zhe slate clean eef you wish. A fresh start awaits."
The was more comforting. Another card.
"Judgement. You may not be aware of eet now, but you possess zhe powers to make changes een your life. To feel 'ole."
"To feel old?"
"'ole!"
"Whole. Got it."
"Per'aps zhees ees connected to Zhe 'anged Man. Non! Ah am sure of eet!"
"That makes one of us…"
"Yes yes yes…Zhe spirits speak to Zhe Mystique. Zhey are very excited."
"How about this one?"
"Oooo…Zhe Lovers. Am ah right een thinking you are married?"
"Well-"
"Ah knew eet! And your wife ees very seeck, yes?"
"Actually-"
"Eet ees clear to me! You must choose to stay with your seeck wife, or move on with your life. Zhis ees your choice. Sacrifice zhe lesser option. Eet is zhe path to zhe maturity of zhe soul! Veeeery eenteresting."
Naishe thought of what her mother would say to all this. A phony seer conning people out of money. Something sounded familiar.
"Next…Zhe Devil!"
"Uh oh."
"Do not fear! Zhe Mystique shall reveal all. Zhe Devil means zhis: let go of your eenheebitions. Express your true self. Ah think you are 'iding something, yes?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Aha! Yes! You must not be afraid to come out of zhe shadows! You may only 'ide for so long. Embrace what you are 'iding. Zhe Devil ees a good omen."
Zevran would certainly be pleased about her prescription to release her inhibitions.
"Zhe Chariot. Eentersting…Ah 'ear…What ees zhat? Zhe spirits. Zhey speak to me…" She cast her eyes around the tent.
Naishe wondered whether she was searching for her guide to bullshitting customers.
"Ah! Of course! Zhe Chariot. You pride yourself on your flexibility, yes?"
Well, Zevran sure did.
"Yes…Ah think so…Zhere ees freedom een your future. But you must use zhis flexibility to drive eet! Search for moments of change. Do not fear zhem! Zhey are zhe path to freedom. Zhis ees what zhe spirits say."
The Mystic reminded her a lot of the Rivaini seers. Naishe had watched many women allow themselves to be possessed by demons, or pretend to be. They claimed it was for the benefit of others. Entertainment, sooth-saying and healing. Hari often used the guise of seeking spirits to infiltrate villages and rob them of their coin. She said anyone you can steal from is clearly too stupid to own what you've taken. Naishe found herself forming an amused respect for The Mystic. If people were thick enough to believe her theatricality, why not make some coin from it?
"Aaaaand zhe final card…" She turned it over, and went silent for a moment, considering it. "Death."
Oh boy.
"Ah believe…You are 'olding onto something. Do you think of zhe past?"
"Yes, I do."
"Yes…Death…Eet does not point to your eempending doom. Zhe demise of your wife…Eet ees possible. Eet ees something you must consider…'owever," she looked at Naishe, almost sadly. "You must let go of zhe past. Eet ees zhe only way you will be truly free."
Naishe's smile slowly melted away. She felt slightly winded from the reading.
The Mystic watched her thoughtfully. Naishe felt like she was seeing right through the disguise. Maybe she wasn't so senile after all.
The Rivaini thanked her for the reading and vacated the tent. She wondered whether what the cards had said only made sense because she wanted them to. They made her nostalgic. Maybe the woman had just been making it up as she went along.
She started wandering through the city again. Thoughts of her tarot reading were quickly replaced by thoughts of chafing. Whilst Luis' trousers were a step up from the heavy gowns he would have her wear, they rubbed against her thighs. She'd sooner do away with then altogether.
"Step one: run away. Step two: lose trousers. Step three: live happily ever after." That sounded like a plan. After last night, she was seriously considering leaving. Luis would never agree to let her go. She'd have to sneak away.
Naishe noticed she was walking towards the harbour. She always seemed to end up there. She caught her reflection in a window. She'd already snuck out. Now could be her chance. A wolf-whistle made her look forward. Courtesan's lined the streets, cooing and blowing kisses at passers-by. It was hard to be surprised. Antiva City didn't have a red lantern district. It was one.
A buxom redhead sashayed over to Naishe and stroked her lapels, "What's a handsome young man like you doing alone at this time of night?"
"Taking up the time of beautiful women, clearly." Naishe shot her a charming smile. Escaping the city could surely wait an hour…
"Such a gentleman! I'm Charlotte, kitten. You are a cute little thing. What's say you hear what I have to tell you…" She batted her eyelashes and leaned close to Naishe's ear.
The Rivaini felt a fumbling around her belt, and looked down to see Charlotte unfastening her coin pouch. Before Naishe could react, Charlotte brought her knee crashing into her crotch. She fell to the ground, vaguely aware of the redhead sprinting away. The surprise superseded the pain. Although winded, she'd live.
A hand offered itself down to her.
"Thank you," she said, taking the hand and pulling herself up.
A pair of huge familiar eyes loomed at her.
"Pravus!" She staggered back, panicking.
"Hmm?" He tilted his head to the side, slightly nonplussed.
Naishe rallied quickly, deepening her voice. "P-Pravus Kamas. Isn't it?"
He nodded slowly, "It is. Have we met?"
Naishe's mind was racing. He didn't recognise her. She could play this to her advantage, "You're the famed broker aren't you?"
He bared a black toothy smile. It was horrible, but encouraging for what Naishe had in mind. "That is I. Few remember that."
"I find that hard to believe," Naishe started to gush. "You've worked with all the greats, haven't you." She racked her brain to remember what Luis had said when he introduced them. "Karafel…?"
If a creature like Pravus could be pleasantly surprised, he was now. "Karafol. The duke," he puffed his chest out a little in pride. "I'm impressed. People rarely take an interest in my work, particularly after they have just been mugged."
Naishe smiled at him sheepishly, "I'm a great admirer of yours. Looking to go into the business myself." Her eyes darted down to the signet ring on his left hand. Luis had forbidden her from writing any letters, and kept a close eye on any mail that came to and left his home. She could sneak a letter out, but had no one to give it to once she had. If the letter looked like it came from Pravus, Luis wouldn't think twice about it. Pravus had unrestricted access to the ravens and owls for business purposes. If information were to be leaked about the counterfeit paintings he and Luis had been discussing, it would be bad news for both of them. The Antivan Guard were in Luis' pocket but it was worth a shot if it would get Pravus out of the way.
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely. In fact..." Naishe hoped her hopeful smile would win him over. "I would love to pick your brains on the matter, old boy. Perhaps over a drink..?"
"I'm afraid I am terribly busy. Perhaps another-"
"Just one! I owe you for helping me regain some dignity just now."
Pravus considered her for a moment, "Very well. One drink."
"Excellent!" Naishe cleared her throat, "I mean, yes. Good news. The nearest tavern is this way I think." She gestured towards a bar known as The Cloak and Stagger.
Naishe would have to write off running away tonight, but that didn't mean the night couldn't be profitable. She held the door for Pravus to enter first and insisted she pay for their drinks, before remembering she had just been robbed.
Pravus smirked and offered the barmaid some coin.
Naishe found them a table to sit at.
"I would suggest better security for your gold if you wish to be successful in the investments business."
"Yes. I'll be more careful next time…" Naishe took a long sip from her tankard when the barmaid came and plonked their drinks down.
After a moment, Pravus followed suit. "I assume you're not native to Antiva if you're not prepared to be robbed Ser…I don't think I got your name."
The Rivaini had a plethora of aliases from her mischievous childhood back home. "Cesario Sesonta, serah. And you are correct. This is my first time in Antiva."
"You are Rivaini?" Pravus' eyes had narrowed slightly. He sounded almost accusatory.
Naishe chuckled and shook her head, hoping the blush wasn't visible in her cheeks, "Ferelden born and bred. My mother was from Amaranthine, my father was Nevarran."
Pravus' features softened slightly. "Nevarra. I have never visited there."
"Beautiful country. Terrible storms though."
"Storms? In this time of year?"
Naishe panicked and clinked her tankard against Pravus'. "Bottoms up, old boy. This is good ale." She brought the drink to her lips but didn't swallow any. She wanted to keep a clear head.
Pravus either didn't notice the panic or didn't care, and promptly finished his drink.
"You managed to keep that down? Maker. This stuff's too strong for me."
Stroking Pravus' ego worked wonders. He smirked again and gestured for another drink.
Naishe was amazed those bulbous eyes hadn't seen through her disguise in a heartbeat. Her curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "And where are you from, Ser?"
"The west," he said unhelpfully.
"Oh. Lovely." Naishe hadn't really expected him to be forthright with personal information, particularly to a stranger. It didn't matter. She just needed him to drink. "Well I'll cut to the chase then. How did you get started in the money business?"
Pravus was far more detailed in his reply this time. He remembered every detail as though it had happened yesterday. Any time he took a pause, Naishe would congratulate him on his impressive use of initiative. After every word of praise, Pravus would smile and take another sip. He enjoyed showcasing his expertise to such an enthusiastic audience. He mentioned Luis a few times, although he phrased everything as though Luis was his loyal lackey rather than the other way around. Stories about their business deals and exhibitions and delusional artists.
About an hour later, Pravus was stinking drunk. Naishe had finished her ale and had been ordering water for herself ever since. Pravus' head was starting to droop and he slurred his words. It was nice to see him so vulnerable. Naishe felt powerful for once.
"Another!" Pravus stamped his foot to get the attention of the barmaid and waved his mug in the air.
Naishe grimaced, "I'm struggling to keep up, old boy. Too used to mead I suppose."
"Mead? Hah!" He gave Naishe a pitying look. "You better get used to *hic* whiskey if you're going to hang around. I've seen shots of the stuff floor a Qunari."
"Qunari? I didn't think they were allowed to drink." Naishe couldn't help herself, "Too busy getting anyone with a pulse to join their bloody cult."
This shocked Pravus, but only lead to more hacking laughter. "You must have *hic* been to Rivain."
Naishe nodded, "I have. The poor people there…"
Pravus' mood changed so suddenly that Naishe wondered whether he was about to throttle her. "Dogs! The lot of them," he spat each word with venom. "Nothing more than slaves to the Qunari. Filth." It wasn't just ignorant prejudice, it was genuine loathing.
Naishe's opinion of the man was already so low that it seemed difficult for it to drop any further. She silently wondered whether some Rivaini had turned him down in the past to make him this spiteful. Hari had always told her men were like that.
She raised an eyebrow at him, "Didn't you say your friend was married to a Rivaini?"
"'A stunning flower plucked from the heart of Rivain itself.'"
It took Naishe a second to realise he was trying to imitate Luis.
He snorted and continued, "A common street rat. Some orphan taken from the Dairsmuid slums."
Naishe's fist clenched under the table but her face remained impassive. "I'm getting the impression that you don't approve of the union."
Pravus made a dry raspy laugh. "He doesn't realise how it looks," he hiccupped. "The Talons of the Antivan Crows would never descend to that *hic* level. He's acting like a common noble."
Naishe chose not to point out the flaw in Pravus' logic. He seemed beyond reason.
"The previous Lady Mali-Kricco was far more *hic* suitable. A girl from the Anderfels. Good family. Old money." Pravus spoke of her with a nostalgic lilt in his voice, along with the heavy slur.
"What happened to her?"
"Luis grew tired of her I imagine. Or someone else with deep *hic* pockets took an interest. It's always something like that."
Always?
"They seldom last longer than a few years. I don't know what's *hic* taking him so long with this one."
Naishe had never seen someone so irritated by their friend's love life. It almost made her pity him. "Well, I can't say I share your opinion of Rivaini folk, Ser Kamas."
"Few do," Pravus rolled his eyes and spilled some of his drink down himself. "An increasingly sparse few." His lids were becoming increasingly heavy and he was slowly sliding further down his seat.
Naishe stood, circled the table and crouched next to Pravus. "You listen to me you lecherous little parasite…"
The tavern was almost empty. The barmaid alone overheard what the young Ferelden noble said to his inebriated friend. He told him that he was of the opinion that Pravus' ancestors knew only the love of mountain goats and asserted strongly the probability that his organ of generation was as flaccid as a newly-lanced pustule. He asked what the broodmothers of Blights gone by were employing as an arse whilst Pravus was using the tender part of the diabolic anatomy for a face. He finished by telling him he had asked the diseased lout at the bar to spit into his drink and that he prayed for the day a mage shoved their staff so far down his throat he pissed liquid fire. The nobleman then watched his fellow fall into a doze, pocked the signet ring on his left hand, his coin purse for good measure, and departed.
The man left at the table snored on.
Naishe had intended to go straight back to the estate. The household would surely have realised she was missing by now. But she was in good spirits, and The Perfumed Spring had caught her eye. The girls inside were thrilled by Cesario. He didn't carry himself as proudly as the usual clientele. They were either brash or timid. Cesario was somewhere in between. Charming but reserved.
Naishe was a little nervous. She'd never been to a place like this without Zevran. She could picture him now, whispering things that would make the most prudish Grand Cleric sink to her knees to the whores that lingered. There was a man reclined on a sofa doing just that to a blushing woman of around forty. He had the same cocky air of Zevran. The same golden hair. A little larger around the stomach perhaps. He turned his head to speak to another of the girls. Naishe was amazed. Dark tattoos flicked down his cheek in the same way Zevran's did. The resemblance was uncanny.
Wait a minute…
It seemed Naishe couldn't go anywhere without running into the elven assassin. She managed to catch his eye and raised an eyebrow. It took him a few seconds, but recognition spread over his face. Naishe was impressed that Pravus' huge orbs had failed to recognise Naishe for who she really was when sat across a table. Zevran managed it from across a room. He thanked the women for their time, kissed each of their hands, and swaggered over to Naishe.
"Well, well. A new face. And I thought I knew everyone who frequented this place," he ran a finger lightly along Naishe's 'stubble'. "And what do you call yourself, serah?"
"Cesario. Cesario Sesonta."
"Cesaaaario," Zevran rolled the r on his tongue for several seconds. "A pleasure, truly. Perhaps you will join me upstairs."
"And spoil all my hard work?"
"It'll be worth your time. And I am going away soon. You must allow me the honour."
Naishe conceded, rolling her eyes, and followed Zevran up the stairs, much to the chagrin of the girls they'd abandoned.
"Fresh off the boat. Them lot always want a taste o' 'tivan meat."
"Probably because someone looks like they rolled out of a haystack this morning."
"Shut up, Gretta."
"If disguises are to become a regular hobby of yours, let me say I approve," Zevran said as they climbed the stairs.
"Awwww. Didn't fool you?" Naishe dropped the deeper voice.
He chuckled. "Not bad for a first try."
Zevran took Naishe to his usual room and then went to "fetch something" on the floor above. Naishe took a look at herself in the floor length mirror. She wasn't really surprised that Zevran liked to look at himself whilst he enjoyed all The Perfumed Spring had to offer. The disguise had held up pretty well, all things considered. The beard was rubbing off but it was dark outside so no passers-by would doubt its authenticity.
There was a creek of floorboards just outside. Naishe turned to see the elf once more, accompanied by two others.
"Kattien and Oola."
Kattien was a handsome man built like an ox with twinkling silver eyes and a twirly moustache that betrayed his Orlesian origin. Oola was a dark-skinned dwarf with breasts so large Naishe wondered how she didn't tip over. They both eyed her up with a hungry gaze.
"I thought they could keep us company a while, yes?"
Naishe grimaced, "They might be wondering where I am…" wondering how long it would take before they started searching for her.
Zevran pouted, twisting a finger through Kattien's burgundy hair. "They've been so looking forward to meeting you, 'Cesario'." He exaggerated his accent when he was trying to win her over. It often worked.
Oola batted her eyelashes. "You haven't seen what Kat can do with his tongue."
Naishe felt her resolve melting away and said, "Well, I've been late before." Oola's tattoos spread from her forehead to her chest; Naishe began kissing every one of them.