"How are we getting on in Emprise du Lion?" Lani asks Leliana, signing off on the writ that Josephine has put before her.
"We are at a stalemate. The Venatori are well-fortified. We cannot breach the ruins without significant losses."
The crisp rustle of parchment echoes through the Rotunda, as Josephine retrieves the writ and places another in front of Lani. She gives it a quick skim - a petition from Fairbanks, asking for aid in establishing a permanent settlement in the Emerald Graves. Lani signs it, passing the document up to her Ambassador.
"How long do you think they can hold out?"
"I do not know. They were in retreat, I did not expect them to have supplies to last as long as they already have. It could be weeks - it could be months. There could be reinforcements on the way," Leliana shrugs. Despite the recent coldness between them, Lani is relieved that is has not affected their professional relationship. She has been working hard to regain Leliana's trust - to sniff out the source of her apprehensions.
"How many more of these?" Lani sighs, when Josie puts another writ in front of her.
"Only three more," she grins, "for now."
"Unless you'd like to sign off on some missives for me too?" Varric drawls impudently. Lani makes a displeased noise in the back of her throat, shooting him a mock scowl.
She'd thought herself foolish, when she first set about reclaiming the rotunda. The staff had made quick work of it - dismantling the scaffolding and removing the remnants of Solas' occupation. Everything except for the frescoes. They told her story after all - her triumphs.
She would ignore for the moment the outstanding issue of Solas' neatly penned notes and observations, hastily swept into a small wooden crate. Lani had thought it might be cathartic, to follow Josephine's example and burn these remnants of him, one by one. Now, she had to pretend they weren't siting up in her quarters in pristine condition; taunting her and her weak resolve.
The reclamation of the rotunda however, had been a success. Into his former domain, she'd had a hollow round table assembled; chairs scattered about it and a brazier burning gently in the centre. She'd not given it much conscious thought, but the first time her Council and friends had joined her in this space, she realised it reminded her of home.
An analogue of a Dalish campfire, around which the clan would gather and where all voices could be heard equally. Though the Keeper always had the final say, they were never elevated above the others - not perched upon a garish throne - or hidden away in a secret room.
Of course, Lani still kept their most sensitive conversations for the Council Room - she was not an utter fool. She liked this new arrangement however; being sure to conduct her work from here most days. Her friends came and went at their leisure, and Varric had moved from the hall to join her. That small gesture pleased her, even though she knew he was mostly motivated out of fear, and concern for her wellbeing.
"You want me to go to Emprise?" She turns her attention back to Leliana, determining the Spymaster's intent.
Leliana nods, "I know you are pre-occupied with Stroud, but there is little you can do until we discover a way to counter Nightmare. You can go to Emprise now and find a way to subdue the Venatori however. When Dorian cracks the problem, he can join you and you can continue from there to Adamant, yes?"
Lani nods slowly, "That would be sensible." She'd be grateful for the distraction. Without fail, each night in the past week Stroud haunted her dreams and the guilt was eating at her.
"I'll come with you as far as Gherlen's Pass," Varric quietly announces. "From there I'll head to Jader and book passage back to Kirkwall." His words knock the wind out of her - she knows he's been working up the courage to tell her he was leaving - waiting for the right moment. It is no surprise, but it still hurts.
She nods in silent acknowledgement and relief eases the lines on his face - the ones that prematurely age him by about ten years. Fresh guilt washes over her; he doesn't leave her lightly and his obligations in Kirkwall are no small thing. Beyond rebuilding the city, he has an entire menagerie of miscreants that have been left rudderless since Hawke's departure.
I'm still the bigger freak, she muses wryly, a deep affection welling inside her as she studies Varric. If only there were more people like him; willing to look past the superficial differences to see the value within. Not judging others for what they might do - no, capable even of forgiving what they had done.
"Inquisitor!" Scout Iago strides into the rotunda. Lani starts, swiping an errant tear from her cheek. "There's another elf come to see you," he announces without ceremony. "From the Arbor Wilds she claims."
"Another one?" Lani remarks in surprise, feeling Leliana's eyes on her. "Let's hear what they have to say." She waves Iago off to fetch their guest. Josephine shifts uncertainly at her elbow, not sure if she is welcome to stay.
"Sit down, Josie," Lani invites her to take the seat beside her and the Ambassador nods politely, settling all her paperwork neatly on the table. Leliana does not wait for an invitation, sliding gracefully onto the nearest chair.
"This should be interesting," Varric sets aside the pile of letters from the Merchant's Guild, opening the journal in which he scribbles notes for his latest piece of historical fiction - as Lani pointedly classifies it; the as yet untitled adventures of the Herald of Andraste.
Cullen and Cassandra scurry in together, bristling with tension."Iago tells us another Sentinel has arrived," Cullen remarks with a frown.
"Yes, he's gone to bring them up." Lani spreads her hands in welcome, indicating that Cullen and Cassandra should join the meeting. Cassandra moves directly to sit between herself and Leliana, and Cullen pauses, seeming to weigh up the spot that would grant him the best tactical advantage. In the end he chooses not to sit, but stations himself by the door to the courtyard.
Lani sighs - she cannot fault their heightened anxiety - from their perspective, chaos and violence followed in the wake of Sentinels. Despite Vivienne's prodding, Abelas seemed to make a more palatable scapegoat for Lani's rampage. Though she wonders, to what extent it is a natural fear response, and what is owed to Leliana's subtle machinations. For her own part, where once the thought of meeting Elvhen filled her with excitement, she now feels mostly apathetic. The sneering of humans was nothing, compared to the heart-ache of Solas' rejection and Abelas' naked disdain.
She rises from her seat, pacing around the table to await their guest; shoulders itching under the weight of her Spymaster's unflinching gaze. She had not expected to hear from her Ancient cousins so soon and she cackles quietly under her breath, thinking how much it would irk Abelas if she were to use such a familial term to his face. Perhaps she'd throw it at this new arrival, though it might not be the smartest way to begin a new dialogue.
Do it! her inner child urges, bubbling with glee.
Iago returns, leading in a willowy elf; long legs striding confidently, sheathed in the burnished armour of the Sentinels. Sharp eyes rapidly take in the room and its denizens, but her gait visibly hitches when they find Lani. She's become accustomed to it; the familiar startled expression; eyes that rapidly flicker around the margins of her body.
"Andaran atish'an, esa'varlin," Lani greets her pleasantly, though she is rather cruel to add to her discomfort.
The Elvhen drags her eyes at last to Lani's face, "Thank you, Inquisitor." She nods politely and shows no sign of offence at being called 'cousin', extending her hand in greeting. Lani hesitates, as she looks from the outstretched hand to her expectant face and back again.
Did Abelas not warn her? Lani clasps her hands behind her back and clears her throat; deciding it is better to let the elf weather the rejection, than subject her to the shock of her Fade aura. "Please, call me Sulahnean."
The Elvhen's hand curls away to her side, the smallest tilt of her head her only reaction, "I am Lea."
Lani smirks inwardly; an apt name indeed, the way her green eyes glitter; blonde hair catching every mote of light, as it cascades down her back in a series of elaborate braids. She radiates a shimmering aura all of her own in her brilliant golden armour. Without a doubt, Lea is the most breath-taking elf Lani has ever laid her eyes on - the Dalish idea of Elvhenan made manifest.
"Please," Lani indicates she should take a seat and Lea glances at the assembled group. Her involuntary reactions are terribly subtle, but Lani still catches the stiffening of her spine. She presumes Lea expected their meeting would be private. Lani sweeps around the table to her own chair and Lea finally moves; unclasping the long glaive that is slung over her back. Cassandra tenses beside her and Lani notes that Lea is also sizing them all up. Her head half-turns to where Cullen looms against the wall; the leather of his gloves creaking loudly in the vaulted space, his hand strangling the grip on his sword.
Lea spins the weapon to her front with a fluid ease, her gaze sliding from Cassandra to Leliana - presumably identifying what she considers to be her biggest threats after the Templar at her back.
"Would your man hold this for me?" Lea asks, and tosses the weapon to Cullen without awaiting a response. He catches it easily, a scowl pinching his forehead. Varric snickers quietly and Lea gracefully takes her seat, exuding an air of nonchalance.
Lani's spine tingles with anticipation - a sensation not unlike preparing to play a round of Wicked Grace. She suspects the stakes are considerably higher however, for there is something beguiling about Lea. Affable, yet cautious; a coiled tension that belies the cool confidence she exudes. On the surface, it seems a reasonable posture for a lone elf in strange company. Lani's instincts are prickling however, urging her to give the Elvhen greater scrutiny.
Lea's eyes are wandering again, taking in the frescoes that sprawl across the walls. Lani lets the silence hang, attempting to decipher the emotions that flicker over the Sentinel's face. Admiration - much the same as Abelas - but something else too; deeper and more personal.
"I did not expect to hear from the Sentinels again so soon," Lani prompts, before her lengthy silence becomes awkward.
"Abelas sends me with an urgent a request."
"Why does Abelas not come himself?" Leliana asks and Lea pauses again; a fleeting pinch between her fine brows as she regards Leliana - perhaps surprised to be interrogated by the others. Lani gestures that she should answer the question.
"He sends his apologies, but he is doing everything he can to keep the peace in the Arbor Wilds. The Temple of Mythal is beset by scavengers. After the great efforts you went to, to avoid bloodshed, Abelas wishes to act in kind. He fears however, that violence is inevitable - we must be allowed to defend ourselves."
Lani casually crosses her legs, chewing at her lip to hide a derisive sneer. Not for a moment does she believe that Abelas cares a whit about shedding the blood of shemlens.
Drop the flattery and get to the point, she wants to snap. She is relieved that Josephine usually handles all the negotiations, she doesn't have the stomach for all this verbal hedging and doublespeak. It occurs to her then, how unusual this meeting is. Rather than going through the usual channels, Lea had asked to speak to her directly and no-one had batted an eyelid. It was business between elves, and elves were usually irrelevant.
Had Josephine ever negotiated with elves in any capacity? The closest case would be Briala at Halamshiral and that had been left entirely up to Lani at the time as well. The same with Grand Enchanter Fiona, after the horror that was Redcliffe, but that was complete capitulation, rather than a negotiation.
"What is it exactly that Abelas wants?" Cassandra bluntly asks and Lani glances around the table with a creeping sense of unease. For the first time that she was aware of, an elf had walked into an institution of power and sat down at the table to negotiate. Not because anyone had given her explicit permission. No, she'd come in like she had every right to be here - to make requests as though her people were equal to any other nation in Thedas. Lani's Council had clamoured in, suddenly taking an interest because they feared these particular Elves.
Meanwhile, she was sitting here, stewing in petty resentment, because the Sentinels didn't grovel like elves were supposed to? Why should they respect her? What did Lani look like to them? The puppet elf of a human organisation - de facto figure-head of a religion that she did not even acknowledge. She'd entered their Temple, under the pretence of respecting their customs - but ultimately threatened violence if they did not concede to her demands. Then she'd promptly handed their holiest relic over to a human that treated them with utter contempt.
Lea's words about having the right to defend themselves resonate with her - with the wild Dalish elf she used to be - before she became utterly subsumed by the role of Inquisitor. Cole is to blame for some of that surely, but hadn't she also become complacent? Complicit even, in her own assimilation?
"To keep outside forces from encroaching on Sentinel territory," Lea states plainly.
"Sentinel territory?" Cullen interjects. "You want the Inquisitor to go to war with Orlais?"
"Nothing so dramatic," Lea calmly responds. "It is our hope that the Arbor Wilds - or at the least, an area surrounding the Temple of Mythal - might be declared a protected site."
"A protected site?" Cassandra scoffs.
Lani's ears burn with shame; where was the proud, dutiful First of Clan Lavellan? Wiped away, like the tattoos that once marked her as one of the people. Devoid of allegiance; of culture; of clan.
Yet, were these not also her friends at this table? People that had bled alongside her to stop Corypheus. That had learned to look beyond her ears, beyond her magic, and respected her enough to elevate her above them. She glances side-long at Cassandra. Yes, they'd tried to kill her recently, but as Flemeth had noted, it would have been a kindness, had Cole not intervened.
Surely these roles weren't necessarily incompatible. She rubs her hand over her mouth to hide the enraged snarl on her lips. Cole had not even given her the chance to try and reconcile her dual identities. She knows she would have returned to the Inquisition once she'd seen her family safe. How could she ignore the Breach when she alone held the Anchor? She feels ill, listening to Lea beg for help to protect their Temple, from invaders that don't believe elves have the right of self-determination. When she herself had been one of those arrogant invaders of late.
"An historic site," Lea continues, undeterred. "The Vir'Abelasan is lost - it is imperative to preserve the history that remains, before it is destroyed by scavengers and bumbling archeologists. We want to preserve our home."
Varric chuckles quietly. "Clever," he mutters, scribbling in his notebook.
"We are aware that the Inquisition has undertaken historic endeavours in the past," Lea remarks and Lani's eyes narrow - she's well informed for an elf that lives in isolation on the fringes of society. "We trust in future, the Inquisition will treat the Temple with the respect it deserves."
"I see," Lani drawls, having no difficulty ascertaining who their source of information might be. Solas probably prepared this entire speech, knowing exactly what to say to inspire her sympathy. The very thought that he might be working with the Sentinels makes her disinclined to co-operate. "You would shut your doors upon the world once more, but you want us to stand guard for you?" she grinds out.
Lea shakes her head, "The Dalish would be welcome to visit the Temple. Any elf that cares to learn of our culture - our shared history."
Lani leans forward with genuine interest. Why would Abelas do this? He made no secret of the disdain he held for the Dalish. Is this not what she begged of him at the Temple, to share their knowledge with them? He had sneered and turned his back on her then, so what had changed? It seemed clear that Abelas had found Solas, as he intended. Was this his suggestion then? How did it benefit him to have Abelas open the Temple of Mythal to all elves?
She drums her fingers on the arm of her chair. She doesn't know for certain that Solas is behind this - all she knows is that she has an opportunity at last to do something for her people. This would have been a dream come true for Deshanna - to learn from Elves that lived before Arlathan fell - Lani cannot refuse their request.
"So, a mass gathering of Elves?" Leliana asks.
"Surely no worse than an Arlathvhen," Lani points out, though she knows what Leliana is thinking - the Arbor Wilds, a stone's throw from the bloody elven conflicts of Dirtha'varen.
"On the doorstep of Orlais, under the auspices of ancient, warrior elves. You don't think Celene will have a strong opinion regarding that?" Leliana retorts.
"Celene dismissed them as a pack of deluded Dalish. And they would be under the auspices of the Inquisition, which I believe is the point, isn't it?" Varric quirks his eyebrow at Lea.
An Inquisition helmed by an elf, Lani muses, glancing side-long to catch the twitch of a frown on Leliana's mouth. Had she uncovered something about Solas? Is that where this suspicion was coming from? Perhaps her ears did matter after all.
"Inquisition approved scholars would be welcome as well, provided they understand that they cannot remove any part of the Temple and must respect the private residences."
"This seems very reasonable," Josephine twitters excitedly. "An excellent opportunity for collaboration."
"Are you certain this is what you want?" Varric asks Lea. "To allow strangers to swarm your Temple?"
"If the Inquisition does not help, conflict is inevitable. In which case, not only will the Temple be further ruined and desecrated - but the Sentinels will give their lives defending it." She looks pointedly at Lani and the hairs raise on the back of her neck. "Is what we offer ideal to us? No, it is not. We have awoken to a world in which our people are not respected. Our sovereignty dismissed." She sighs, bowing her head in a near convincing display of humility, but Lani fancies she can sense the indignation that burns deep inside Lea.
Or is it my own? she wonders.
"We sacrifice our pride, in the hope of peace. We beg for your assistance," Lea pleads, "Help us find a way to co-exist, in a world that confounds us."
She makes her case with such passion, stirring long dormant feelings in Lani, that she almost misses it; the lies, carefully couched in clever words and half-truths. Wherever this elf calls home, it is not the Arbor Wilds and she is no cloistered Sentinel. A shiver runs down Lani's spine, as the truth strikes her with clarity; this world does not confound Lea and she has no interest in coexistence.
Gara… she cannot help the smug smile that turns up the corner of her mouth. Solas probably thought he was clever, sending her instead of Abelas. She doubts the stern Sentinel would have been able to present his case with even half as much zeal and humility - but at least he might have been honest.
She feels a twinge in her chest despite the deception. If Solas had said as much to her - if he had spoken such passionate, pleading words - even after Crestwood, they could have…
She winces, of course she would have helped him. Helped him with what, however? That was the great unanswered question. She swallows hard, burying her heartache. Of course, you would have been a blind fool, she berates herself and then remembers the crate full of notes in his hand; the pendant that lays around her neck; walls of art that she didn't have the heart to smash and scrub clean. You remain a fool.
"In principle, your request seems reasonable," Lani states, pushing aside her personal bias. "We still have troops in the Arbor Wilds." She glances beyond Lea to catch Cullen's eye, "Can we not - while we hammer out the details - move some of them closer to the Temple, to deter would-be scavengers?"
"Of course. We had only maintained a wide berth to avoid conflict with the Sentinels ourselves," he adds, his posture prickly.
"We'd better settle the terms quickly then, so you can return to Abelas with good news." Josephine pull fresh parchment from her seemingly endless supply, her pen already moving across the page.
"It is expected that I would remain here," Lea informs them and Lani's lip curls. "To represent the Sentinels within the Inquisition and address any issues should they arise. You may trust that I speak for Abelas."
Trust, she scoffs, eyes tracing over the Vallaslin on Lea's face. If she is indeed one of Solas' people - his true kin that were neither Dalish nor City elf - for Lea to be here, with Mythal's mark on her face, after what Solas did to hers. Bile burns in the back of her throat and she snatches up her cup of tea, washing down the bitterness. He must know how it would make her feel, how it would torment her, to see this face every day.
"How wonderful, we will need to get you settled in then," Josephine offers warmly. Lani is grateful to the Ambassador, for springing into action and covering her brooding silence.
"Yes, I will leave you in Josephine's capable hands," Lani states, "I'm sure the two of you can take it from here." She twitches her eyebrows meaningfully at Josie and the Ambassador rises, gathering her implements.
"Of course Inquisitor, if you'll follow me please, Ambassador." Josephine stops at the doorway, motioning for Lea to follow to her office. The Elvhen stands, delivering a deferential bow to Lani. Cullen blocks her exit, thrusting the glaive into her hand.
"Too kind," Lea remarks cooly, slinging the weapon over her back and gliding past him to join Josephine.
"Is there an Elvhen word for Ambassador?" Josephine asks eagerly, as they disappear together into the Great Hall.
"So Seeker," Varric drawls, "what is the Divine's stance on letting elves gather en masse to practice their blasphemous rituals?"
"Shove it, Varric" Cassandra snaps. Leliana has already slunk off toward the Rookery and Lani chases after her, catching her on the stairs.
"A moment, Leliana."
"Inquisitor?" The Spymaster eyes her cautiously.
"Thoughts on our new arrival?" Lani probes.
"Too early to make a firm assessment," Leliana deflects easily. Lani sighs, they cannot continue going in circles like this, with no trust between them.
She decides to make the plunge, "She is not a Sentinel."
"What are you saying?" Leliana's eyes widen. "If our troops move in unexpectedly… Is she trying to cause conflict with the Sentinels?"
"Oh no, that request was genuine," Lani clarifies, "I do believe Abelas agreed to it."
"Agreed to it? So whose idea is it and if she is not a Sentinel then… where did she come from?"
"Precisely," Lani grimaces and she can see the gears turning in Leliana's head. "How long have they been among us? Why masquerade as a Sentinel and not openly identify themselves?"
"If you knew all this, why did you agree to this request? You must know this has the potential to blow up in our faces. The Inquisition claiming the Arbor Wilds and gathering an elven army there."
"Technically, we've already claimed the Arbor Wilds with our army," Lani retorts.
"This is different and you know it."
"Don't you know what this would mean to the Dalish? What it means to me? How could I refuse?"
"Because you are the Inquisitor!" she hisses, peering up and down the dim stairwell. "Your personal desires cannot take precedence over the greater good."
Lani crosses her arms, "I see, and it is only the greater good when humans profit."
Leliana exhales heavily, "That is not at all what I meant. If Orlais objects to this course, if it prompts them to rally not just against the Sentinels but the Inquisition too, how is that good for anyone?"
"Celene wouldn't dare, if she turns on us, she forfeits her throne. She can grumble all she likes, but she cannot take action."
"And if her inaction is seen as weakness and she loses the last of her support, allowing Gaspard to finally take the throne? Celene burned the slums in Halamshiral, what do you think Gaspard would do to a perceived Elven uprising?"
Lani groans, dragging her hands down her face. "Help me make this work then, please?"
"You over-estimate my influence," Leliana demurs.
"I don't believe I do," she counters.
"Sulahnean…" Leliana studies her pensively; searching perhaps for signs of deception. "Are you sure you want this? With what you've just told me, it's clear this… Lea, has come here with an offer she knew you couldn't resist."
Lani nods, "I know."
"That doesn't trouble you? It doesn't give you pause?"
"It does, but…" she shrugs, "Without knowing what their aims are - who they are - I'm fumbling in the dark, Leliana. At least this way, despite whatever difficulties might arise, we have permission to be in their Temple. We have an Elvhen here, under your watch, rather than out in the wild doing who knows what." Leliana silently contemplates her plea. "If they are planning something that endangers all elves, I need to stop them."
"Very well," Leliana assents. "I can't promise this won't end in violence, but I will do what I can to steer us from it. Within reason," she holds up a stern finger. "If the elves in the Arbor Wilds even whisper about declaring independence, the Inquisition must withdraw its support."
"Of course," Lani nods, relieved they could make some progress in mending their relationship. She doubts she's entirely back in Leliana's good graces, but this is a promising start. She needs Leliana's network, she needs to know what secrets she has gathered. "Well, I should probably give our new Ambassador a very heartfelt welcome." She gives Leliana a lop-sided grin and scurries down the stairs.
Varric is alone in the Rotunda as she sweeps through, struck with inspiration if his frenzied scribbling is anything to go by. She sneaks past without disturbing him and heads toward Josephine's office. She considers how she will approach Lea. No doubt she will be cautious and Lani has little hope of gaining her confidence. If she believes Lani is ignorant of her true identity however, there is always the chance she might relax her guard and let something slip. Though Lani's experience with Elvhen is limited, they consistently seem to underestimate shems - that is the angle she will play. She must be unassuming, amiable…
And ordinary, Lani clasps her hand to her chest, hoping there is not some secret Elvhen ability to read souls. What would Lea do if she discovered Mythal? Lani quells her rising panic, as she steps across the threshold into Josephine's office.
"We've developed a good rapport with quite a few historians at the University of Orlais," Josephine remarks, as Lea paces her office, eyeing the tapestries, and the knick-knacks Josephine has assembled on her fireplace. "Their support will go a long way to giving credibility to our claim that the Temple is a significant site."
"And what will their support cost?" Lea asks, turning at the sound of Lani's padding feet - emerald eyes locking on her with an unnerving level of interest.
"I thought you might like a tour of Skyhold," she offers.
"Sathem, esa'varlin," Lea replies, without a trace of mockery.
"What a wonderful idea, you can look over these draft proposals later," Josephine waves them off and Lea bows low to the Ambassador.
"It must be quite a shock, leaving the Temple," Lani begins, as she leads them into the Great Hall.
"Much has changed," Lea admits. "I will adapt, as you have."
"Oh?" Lani asks, curious as to just what Lea knows of her. Or is willing to admit to knowing. She taps a finger against her chin, musing over what to show her first.
"I understand you are Dalish? We've encountered them from time to time. Wandering the Wilds and avoiding human contact. You seem very comfortable amongst humans."
Lani's ears twitch in amusement. She's fairly certain that last statement was a criticism, but notes that Lea does not call them Shemlen. "It varies from Clan to Clan. We regularly traded with humans, so I was somewhat acquainted with their customs and behaviour." Lani pauses on the landing outside the Great Hall. "They can still be perplexing at times," she chuckles wryly.
"This is Skyhold," Lani sweeps her hand across the fortress. "You probably observed the market and the stables on your way in. Over that way is the training grounds, armoury and Quartermaster - if you need anything just ask. That building there is the tavern and in the far corner, our mage tower. There's a garden inside and our library is upstairs in the rotunda, above the frescoes. Is there anything in particular you'd like to see?"
"I'm sure I will manage to explore it all in due course," Lea remarks without enthusiasm. "I appreciate the gesture, but I expect you have more important duties to attend to."
Lani laughs ruefully, "I'm sure there are a dozen things requiring my attention. It is not every day I get to welcome one of the People however. Someone that actually witnessed Elvhenan. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, but do you know what that means to me?" She does not need to feign awe. Despite the lies, Lea remains an Elvhen; an ancient, immortal elf in the flesh. "I was First of my Clan, I would have been the Keeper of our lore had not…" she holds up her hand, the Anchor flaring and Lea's eyes narrow at the sight of it. "I have learned just how fragmented and incorrect so much of that lore is, but you are living history."
"No doubt you have questions," Lea replies, "But I was dedicated to Mythal as a child. I've spent my whole life guarding her Temple."
Oh, isn't that convenient… Lani smirks inwardly.
"I am happy to give insight into our customs and duties at the Temple. What it was like before we closed the doors and entered Uthenera. As for greater Elvhenan," Lea shrugs, "Enansal'han is all I've ever known."
The lies roll out of her, as easily as taking a breath. Lani knows she wouldn't have caught any of them without her heightened perceptions. She suspects even Bull and Leliana would be hard-pressed to catch them. Even the Qunari spy and her cold-blooded Nightingale have their weak points however - chinks in their hardened outer shells. Lani has managed to worm her way through both, earning their affection. She knows, despite Leliana's recent coldness, that she still likes her. The proof was in the fact that she hadn't yet slit Lani's throat while she slept.
"Then this must be even more difficult for you than I imagined. I hope you will come to me, if you are struggling. I want you to know that you are not alone here, Lea."
Lea turns her face away, unable to hold Lani's earnest gaze. "I… appreciate that, Sulahnean."
"Regardless of what you choose to share, I am glad you are here. It seems sad to me, to be immortal and yet never seeing the world beyond the Arbor Wilds."
"I was content. Were you not happy among your Clan?"
"Of course I was, when I knew nothing else. Now though, it would be too small for me," she shakes her head, "even if there were a home to return to."
Lea's eyebrows twitch, "What do you mean?"
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the tavern, or the garden perhaps?" Lani points back toward the hall. "I should probably introduce you to some of our core members."
"I should like to see the mage tower, if it is no trouble."
"Sathem, esa'varlin," Lani echoes playfully and Lea delivers her such a brilliant smile it makes her heart ache. By what cruel twist of fate are they pitted against one another? Anger churns in her stomach - whatever the reason, she's sure that Fen'Harel is to blame.
As they stride across the courtyard, the locals pause to gawk at the golden elf and Lani is relieved to have the focus shifted off herself for a change.
"Oi, Inquisitits!" Sera shouts, leaning out from her window above the tavern. "Who's the shiny elf?"
"Sera…" Lani's voice carries a note of warning, "This is Lea, a Sentinel from the Temple of Mythal."
"Ugggh," Sera gurgles with disgust, slamming her window shut.
"Well, you've now officially met Sera," Lani informs Lea with a laugh. "Don't let the prickly exterior fool you, she actually cares a lot."
"Are you often treated with such disrespect by your subordinates?" Lea inquires. Lani wonders what her expectations of the Inquisition are, what pre-conceptions Solas gave her. She finds it hard to believe he didn't impart a few choice words about Sera.
"Her manners don't bother me," Lani smiles, "I appreciate her unrelenting honesty." Lea blinks, her expression unreadable and Lani tilts her head toward the tower. "Shall we?"
Muffled, angry voices reach their ears as they climb the steps from the battlements. "At it again," Lani mutters and pushes open the door to find Fiona and Alexius nose to nose, engaged in a heated argument.
"The binding of spirits is one of the most commonplace rituals in Tevinter. Even the most feeble of Laetans can master it. Do not try to hide your incompetence behind superstition!"
"It is not superstition!" Fiona roars, her commanding voice honed from years of scolding subordinates. "Your hubris would condemn us all to possession!"
Lani plants her hands on her hips, scowling at Dorian where he stands on the far side of the room, his moustache twitching with glee at the spectacle. When he catches sight of Lani the humour drains from his face and he lurches forward to put himself between them, loudly clearing his throat.
"Yes, very good, I think that's uh… enough robust debate for today." He pushes a grumbling Alexius away to the corner.
"Inquisitor!" Fiona leaps upon her. "What you are asking of us, the binding of a demon. While I understand your need, you cannot bully frightened mages into conducting a ritual which - til only recently - would have seen them made Tranquil."
"Fiona I won't allow-"
"But blood magic? You demand too much!"
"I never said anything about blood magic," Lani interjects.
"I did," Alexius grinds out from his corner and Lani grimaces in disapproval. "The fact remains Inquisitor that you need power. An immense amount of power if you expect to subdue a demon such as Nightmare."
"There have to be other sources of power, other solutions beyond binding. Something to distract Nightmare long enough-"
"Perhaps…" Alexius allows, "but I understood you wanted a solution rather urgently."
"What I want is to not endanger anyone else in the course of this endeavour," she looks pointedly at Fiona. The Grand Enchanter's shoulders ease with relief and she nods her thanks before disappearing into the higher levels of the tower.
Lani shakes her head, closing in on Dorian and Alexius. "I would appreciate it, if you could show a little more sensitivity to our mages. To suggest blood magic, after what happened with the Grey Wardens… and these are Circle mages! They've lived their entire lives in fear of what would happen to them if they pursued forbidden magic. Demonic possession is actually the least of their worries."
"Will sensitivity rescue your Warden from the Fade?" Alexius snaps.
"Don't be belligerent," Lani reproaches. "I'm sure we can work together to find a solution, and that you can find a way to express your perspective more respectfully."
"You don't have time to waste pandering to superstitious children. You could rescue Stroud now if you had the courage to do what is necessary," the former Magister mutters.
Lani takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to say what is on the tip of her tongue. Dorian does not suffer under the same restraint, "How well did that sort of thinking turn out for you and Felix in Redcliffe, hmm?"
"Dorian…" Lani gently chides. From the look in his eyes, he's hurt himself as much as Alexius - whose face crumbles at the memory of his defeat and the loss of his son.
"You were circling around it, someone had to say it," Dorian sniffs, crossing his arms. Lani places her hand on Alexius' shoulder. Circumstance had made him her enemy - but he was also Dorian's beloved mentor. She understands the urge to save his child, the madness of grief that drove him to abandon his beliefs and align with Corypheus. It was the exact sort of impulsive decision making that she feared right now. For all she knew this was a devious trap by Nightmare - preying on her guilt and driving her to make a mistake in her haste to rescue Stroud.
"I see…" Alexius curls his hand over Lani's, his head bowing with shame. Under all the bluster and bellicosity, he is a broken man. "Thank you Inquisitor, for your… sensitivity."
She squeezes his shoulder and retrieves her hand, "So, I take it there has been little progress with our dilemma?"
Dorian takes a moment to gather himself, straightening his shoulders and unfolding his arms. "We've sent missives to our contacts in Tevinter - if there is a solution for wrangling demons, you can trust the Imperium will have discovered it."
Lani laughs incredulously. "Trust the Imperium?" she teases and Dorian rolls his eyes.
"Honestly," he tuts sardonically, "release one little Blight upon the world and no-one ever lets you live it down."
"Have you consulted the Vir'Abelasan?" The trio turn as one to regard Lea, lurking unobtrusively by the doorway. "It remains in your possession, does it not?"
Alexius lets out a laboured sigh. "That did not occur to us," he confesses. Dorian stares mutely at Lea and he finally blinks and snaps his gaping mouth shut.
"Unfortunately, the Well of Sorrows is a snarky witch called Morrigan," he informs Lea. "She has an unfathomable dislike for fashionable, civilised mages such as ourselves," he preens.
Lani raises a displeased eyebrow at him, "You could have sent Fiona."
"Have you seen the way they look at each other?" Dorian waves his hands emphatically across his body, "I don't know what it is, but there is some bad blood between Morrigan and Fiona. There's clearly only one option here," he suggests slyly.
Lani fixes him with a disappointed glare, "I'm leaving for Emprise within the week. If she has any ideas, you need to be able to work with her while I'm absent!"
"Yes… but you could broach the subject with her now. Break the ice so to speak. Tell the dragon lady to play nice?" He clasps his hands together, making puppy-dog eyes at her, "Please Birdie."
"Fenedhis," Lani hisses. "Fine, but you are coming with me." She grabs Dorian by the wrist, dragging him toward the door.
"Alright, that's fair," he concedes, sounding well-pleased with himself. "If that creepy child of hers looks at me wrong however, I am gone."
TRANSLATIONS:
Arlathvhen - the meeting of Dalish Clans once a decade to exchange and preserve Elven lore and magic.
Dirtha'varen - 'the promise', the Exalted Plains.
Enansal'han - blessed wilds
Esa'varlin - cousin
Fenedhis - shit/damn
Gara - fuck
Sathem - pleased/delighted