Playing the Game: Part II
Celene took a moment to observe this curiosity, the Dalish elf who now commanded the hearts of the faithful all over Thedas. He was truly Dalish with those intricate tattoos on his face, meant to honor his heathen gods, and he had the most peculiar hair style, the sides of his head were shaved and the rest of it was pulled into a tight pony tail. After her first encounter with the Dalish elves of Clan Virnehn she learned to be very cautious concerning those kind of elves. But this one was different.
Somehow he, a heathen elf with a blasphemous name, got three ardently loyal members of the Chantry, two of whom loyally served the Divine herself as her Hands, to serve him with the same loyalty. Such a thing was admirable, and extremely dangerous. She initially didn't want him here because he could tip the delicate balance of power by turning the tens of thousands of faithful against her or Gaspard if he chooses. But this could be a blessing in disguise. She had already sent Couteau, Columbe and Fleur to speak with the Inquisitor and assure him of her intentions. That should placate him for the evening and, if nothing else, she could learn more about him. His policies, his ethics, what Inquisitor Rajmael seeks. The first step to winning The Game was knowing your opponent, so that you can know how to outmaneuver them.
"Did you meet with the Inquisitor as I instructed, ladies?" Celene asked her handmaidens.
"Oui, your grace." Couteau answered sincerely.
"And we assured him of your intentions." Columbe followed with eagerness.
"He didn't seem impressed." Fluer finished in her usual morose tone.
"How do you mean?" Celene asked curiously.
"It seemed he didn't believe you are capable of fulfilling your promise." Fluer answered in her monotone voice. "Or perhaps, he simply does not care for your promises."
That shouldn't have been a surprise, after all, the last time Celene tried dealing with the Dalish they threw her offers of a lordship back in her face. They stubbornly clung to their ways, despite what they might have gained from allying with her. Although, she supposed anything she offered, Gaspard probably offered the same thing, and that seemed more likely.
"What do we know of the Lord Inquisitor?" Celene asked from behind her lace fan.
"His clan originally roamed the Free Marches, and he has helped secure them a permanent place in Wycome." Couteau answered first.
"It seems he favors giving the mages sanctuary and disavows any loyalty to Blessed Andraste." Columbe added almost sadly.
"And apparently, he has gained the respect of Ferelden and King Alistair for his assistance in stabilizing the Hinterlands, and saving the King and Queen from assassination by Tevinter radicals." Fleur finished.
Celene took a moment to contemplate his feats. "If he has won over the Fereldan monarchy, he can only be a boon to us if we can sway him our way, or a bane if we cannot."
"Forgive me, Your Grace…." Columbe addressed. "But do we truly need the Inquisitor's assistance to win the Empire?"
"Have you not been keeping your ear out for the past year, Columbe?" Celene gently chided. "This Inquisition is quickly rising to become a power that can rival nations. Not only are they led by a man, whom many believe is Andraste's chosen on earth and wields great power, they are making great impacts on the world as a whole."
For a moment her maidens stared at her wide-eyed like a small group of children and waited for her to continue. "In Nevarra they routed out a conspiracy with mages using Blood magic to influence King Markus. Even my cousin, Duke Cyril de Montfort, boasts about how they have made the Council of Heralds jobs easier by settling the succession dispute in Lydes, and if my agents are right, both Tevinter and Nevarra are now vying for the Inquisition's support, both of whom are our Empire's chiefest rivals."
All three of her hand maidens gasped and had bewildered looks on their face and Celene decided now would a good time to tease them a little. "Also, rumors abound that the Champion of Kirkwall was seen at Skyhold."
That bit of gossip made them blush under the masks, and they started fanning themselves hard. While they had their little fantasies, Celene turned her mind back to the task at hand.
There wasn't a doubt in Celene's mind that Inquisitor Rajmael was a formidible man, and he was counseled by some of the best minds in all of Thedas. Gaspard may have actually played the better hand, but Celene knew in her mind that Briala would seek him out and ask for aid. She'll probably use the fact that they're both elves to convince him of the worthiness of her cause. But judging from what her spies have told her, The Inquisition was more concerned about this Tevinter Cult than the cause of the elves, and that could be her saving grace against her former lover.
But for now, she had more immediate concerns. Everything was in place for her to deal with Gaspard, who was the most immediate threat to her empire. She would deal with Briala, and if needs be, the Inquisitor later. She had already sacrificed too much to let her beloved empire be taken from her now.
~XoXoXo~
Gaspard stood by himself on one of the ball room balconies, drinking a most excellent bit of Heartland Port, Vintage 8:89 Blessed. He knew he made the right decision seeking out the Inquisitor. Men like him and the Inquisitor are men of action, with a mission, a goal to achieve. Men like them seek what their after and take their destiny by the throat, not let others dictate what they should do for appearances sake, or let petty ceremony stand in their way. And neither of them were men who would be manipulated. If Celene were to have her way, she would tap dance around the issue and try to reason with the Breach instead of marching on it.
"What do we know of the Lord Inquisitor?" Gaspard asked several of his lieutenants.
"If rumors are to be believed, my lord, it is said that he is both a mage and a warrior." One of his lieutenants answered disbelievingly. "He uses some strange form of elven martial art and magic to decimate entire companies of knights and templars. And that he wields an ironwood sword blazing with white fire."
"A mage who can actually put up a fight?" Gaspard chuckled. "Now that is something worth bragging about!"
"I beg your pardon, your grace." Said one of him men. "But the empire already has Knight-Enchanters, all of whom are from powerful and influential families. Would it not suit us better to try and bring Madame de Fer to our cause?"
"Yes, that it would, Captain Cheville." Gaspard confirmed. "But can any of them banish a whole horde of demons with just a wave of his hand? No. We need this Lord Lavellan, or no one at all. Also, I doubt my former father-in-law's mistress would be so willing to aid me."
"Well, my lord, it is rumored that he, in fact, does not support the Chantry, or even pray to the Maker, but to his heathen gods." One of his officers stated condemningly.
"Let the priests and philosophers contemplate gods and the hereafter, and let us focus on the here and now." Gaspard waved off. "As for the Chantry…well, who could blame anyone for not supporting those cantankerous old biddies? They would rather pray away a problem than face it. What do we know of his militaristic accomplishments?"
"Under his command, the Inquisition has quickly gained a foothold in various outposts across Ferelden and the Empire." One of Gaspard's captains answered. "I heard that in Redcliffe, he single handedly cleared out a cult of Tevinter mages that had taken over the castle, and he did the same thing with the Griffon's Wing Outpost in the Western Approach after clearing out ancient Tevinter ruins filled with demons, darkspawn and giants."
"Ha-ha! You see, gentlemen? Celene's tentative nature has undone herself." Gaspard laughed. "Whereas she saw an unknown factor to be avoided, I saw an opportunity in the Inquisitor, and, as we all know, fortune favors the bold."
Gaspard had never given the Dalish elves much thought, but this Inquisitor was definitely a man not to be taken lightly, a fact that Celene was all too happy to overlook. With the Inquisitor on his side, and a few well-made preparations, there was no doubt in Gaspard's mind that he would have the throne after tonight.
~XoXoXo~
The peace talks were going to begin within a matter of hours. Briala had made ready all her plans for tonight. Starting with the forged letters she sent to both Celene and Gaspard. That should keep the two of them from ganging up on her, and give her time to keep organizing her people. Briala knew both of Celene's and Gaspard's plans, which gave her the most advantage. The only possible wrinkle in her plan was this Inquisitor Lavellan.
It infuriated her that an elf could accept being the guest of a Chevalier, especially a thug like Gaspard. But then, given her experience with Dalish elves, the so-called "true elves", cared only for their own goals, their own agenda. No doubt Gaspard bought him off with the promise of aid should the Inquisitor help him succeed in his bid for the throne, and given how well the Inquisitor has been charming the nobles, Gaspard just might succeed. Briala had to make sure everything was ready in case either side did, or did not get what they wanted.
"What do we know of the Inquisitor?" Briala asked several of her people who had been watching everyone of importance.
"Well, he is Dalish. That much is obvious." The stable hand answered with a smile. "He even rides a white halla, I saw it in the stables. It let me feed him some carrots."
"I want to know his character, not his mount, Tom." Briala scolded.
"One of my cousins works in the Skyhold Garden." One of the valets piped in. "She tells me that he has a shrine dedicated to the elven gods, and, if you can believe this, he is a priest to them!"
"That is no surprise, the Dalish elves have always maintained the old faith." Briala reminded. "Some might say they care more about what happened in the past than they do about the present. And if a Dalish elf so eagerly serves a cause devoted to the Chantry, he is not one to be trusted."
"He…cannot be all bad." Sabine, one of the serving girls said shyly. She had been weeping earlier, and her face was too tear stained for her to be seen on the serving floor. "When…my master slapped me, the Inquisitor stood up for me, and forced him to remove his mask and shine his boots. I think my master may commit suicide for such shame."
That was unexpected. Briala knew that this Inquisitor Rajmael had easily gained many of the nobles' adoration. Was he so quick to cast it aside for a mere servant? Perhaps there was more to him than she thought.
"And then there's the matter of Seeker Pentaghast." Said the old cook.
"What about her?" Briala asked curiously.
"That pendant she wears around her neck, it is an elven amulet." The cook answered. "My grandmother told me that sometimes the Dalish will fashion an amulet from the amber and leaves of a sylvanwood and present it as a sign of unrequited love. I never thought to see such a trinket, much less around the neck of a shemlen Seeker."
More and more this Inquisitor Rajmael became more of a curiosity to Briala. He was a Dalish elf who prayed to the elven gods, yet served an organization devoted to Andraste. And Cassandra Pentaghast, a member of a powerful family, and the devoted Right Hand of the Divine proudly wore a Dalish love trinket in front of all the nobility. Maybe this Inquisitor wasn't as easy to figure out like she thought. She would need to learn more about him if she was to prevail over either Gaspard or Celene.
~XoXoXo~
Rajmael had given word to several of his companions to be ready to go to the servant's quarters; they needed to figure out what was going on there. But first Rajmael needed to relax for a moment. That thing inside Rajmael was still yelling at him, and it wasn't shutting up, and he couldn't concentrate with it screaming in his ear. He needed to relax, so he headed to the balcony to have a smoke. That should calm his nerves. He tried to empty his pipe of the ash that had built up in it, but he still couldn't get that thing to shut up, and in fit of anger, he slammed his fist against a marble pillar, leaving an almost perfect imprint of his fist behind.
"Not enjoying the party Inquisitor?" asked an unfamiliar voice.
Rajmael turned to see an elven woman wearing an almost noble looking mask of some authority. This had to be Ambassador Briala. Rajmael regained his composure. "Watching elves living like servants when they should be the masters of this land, and letting the shems treat them so horribly makes me sick. I don't understand why any would choose to live like this." He answered honestly, and with venom.
"Easy for you to judge, living on your own terms in the woods, never worrying about the Chevaliers barging into your home, or what the humans may do to you at night." Briala scoffed indignantly. "I didn't think the Dalish cared enough about what us poor flat-ears go through."
Rajmael gave the ambassador a dangerous look, he would not let anyone, even another elf, insult his people to his face. "That coming from a primped and sweet smelling pet, who slutted it up with the very empress who oppresses our people, means less to me than what my halla shits out. Tell me, Ambassador Briala, how many of your fellow elves did you have to step on to get be Celene's pet? Or did you simply spread your legs from Day One?"
The Inquisitor gave Briala a mocking grin, she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, and tried not to act on it. "Are you really the sort to listen to idle gossip and wild tales, Inquisitor?"
"Are you really the type to whore yourself out in exchange for getting the empress to try and make concessions for the elves of this godsforsaken empire?" Rajmael balked back with that smile still on his face. "Why don't you try clarifying this for me? I don't want to think that I'm just relying on court gossip."
Briala had to maintain control. Whether she liked this man or not was inconsequential; he may be the key to turning the tide in this war. "I can be honest: yes I served as Celene's handmaiden and spymaster, and yes, I tried to get her to make the lives of the elves even a little bit better."
"But only as far as it served her more, and kept the elves beneath humans." Rajmael interjected.
"Yes." Briala answered bitterly. "But the elves of Halamshiral wanted more, and they began an uprising. She sent me to calm them down, and when I returned, she had me arrested on a trumped up charge so that she could deflect the rumors that she was an elven sympathizer. It was nothing personal, just The Game." Briala scowled bitterly underneath her mask as she remembered that moment of betrayal. "That is the excuse all humans in the Orlesian Court use, and it just wouldn't do for the Empress of Orlais to show any favor towards the elves."
"Ah. So it wasn't until after Celene fucked up your life that you decided to actually stand with your people." Rajmael stated blithely. "In the meantime, everyone else's lives got fucked up while you were living in the palace and sleeping on silken sheets."
"Nobody has cause to hate Celene more than I, but I have no stake in harming her." Briala stated. "An elf assassinating the Empress? Alienages across all of Thedas would be burned. But I doubt you could possibly understand how difficult life for us is amongst the humans."
"You lack loyalty and you lack honor, and now you dare think to judge me, and how I stand amongst our people? Fuck you." Rajmael said with blithe disgust. "Unlike you, Ambassador Briala, I've always known where I stand with my people, both in the woods, and in the city, and everything I am, I made myself to be: I didn't have to suck up to anyone to determine my place in the world. Oh, and just in case you've forgotten this little fact…" Rajmael pulled the glove off his right hand and pulled up his sleeve, revealing the horrid burn scar beneath it. "The only other people who like to harm City Elves as much as humans, are other City Elves. Your kind taught me that the hard way. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. So fuck you, and have a nice night."
Briala stood stiff as a plank, and somewhat stunned. Half of what he said, about her being Celene's pet, she had already said to herself, yet hearing him say it somehow made her feel even guiltier. Perhaps it took hearing it from the mouth of another elf, one who fought to control his destiny, to make her feel the full weight of the guilt she carried. And though she may have denied it to anyone else, she knew Rajmael was right when he said that City Elves are just as ready to harm one another as the humans are. Her own mother framed another elf for stealing jewels so Briala could be made Celene's handmaiden. Was that how the Inquisitor received that scar?
Despite what happened the last time she encountered the Dalish, she still admired, and even envied that sense of independence they had, the freedom that only they knew. And after what he did to that fat noble for Sabina, maybe she was wrong about him. Perhaps Rajmael Lavellan was more than what she thought. Perhaps he was a worthwhile ally after all.
~XoXoXo~
Rajmael and his companions snuck their way to the Servant's Quarters as soon as the next dance, and the peace talks began. With that going on, no one would notice their absence, and Rajmael's advisors would keep the nobility distracted. Leliana's agents had already smuggled their weapons in. But before they went any further, Rajmael desperately took those damned boots of his feet and ripped the socks off.
"My dear Inquisitor, what on earth are you doing?" Vivienne asked almost outraged.
"I feel disconnected from my surroundings wearing footwear." Rajmael answered as he took in the feeling of his freed feet in the cool air. "I can't fully feel what's going on around me if I'm not full connected to the ground. Almost like walking blind."
"Oh, thank the Maker!" Cassandra sighed. "I'm glad I'm not the only feeling that way. I can barely move in this damned bear trap that passes for women's clothing!" The Seeker unclasped the skirt that she was dragging and cast it to the side, revealing to everyone on those long, supple legs. She was wearing a rather risque set of stockings that were held up by black lacy garters, and she was even wearing a matching set of undergarments. Rajmael loved how those beautiful calves of hers flexed in those sexy high heels she was wearing.
"Would you stop staring at me like that!?" Cassandra demanded as she blushed several shades of crimson.
"But you have such glorious legs." Rajmael drooled as all the other guys, and Sera nodded as though they were hypnotized by her stocking clad limbs.
Cassandra flashed them a dangerous look, and they all took their eyes off her legs and back into their heads. They still had a reason for being here, and they needed to finish it.
A sense of sickened disgust washed over all of them when they came into the servant's sleeping quarters and found them all dead. Their throats were cut, necks snapped, and hearts stabbed, all lying face down in a pool of their own blood.
"Well, shit." Varric commented grimly.
"Someone will be held accountable for this." Cassandra swore.
"Venatori, friggin' arsehole, fuck-shits!" Sera cursed.
"Someone really doesn't want their actions known." Vivienne stated.
"Why would anyone go through all the trouble of murdering mere servants?" Blackwall asked pityingly.
"Someone who doesn't want any witnesses." Solas answered solemnly.
"They were only getting ready for bed, then burning pain came from behind and in the shadows. They die instantly." Cole said sadly. "They were only doing their jobs to feed their families."
"This was done by professionals." Bull stated as fact.
"They must be in a hurry if they didn't take the time to dispose the bodies." Dorian pointed out.
Rajmael tracked the blood and bodies out to the nearby garden courtyard near the noble apartments. Near the fountain was the body of a human with a dagger sticking out of his back. Judging from his mask and finery, he was a high ranking noble. What was he doing here?
"Wait, I know him!" Viviene declared startled. "He's an emissary for the Council of Heralds!"
Varric pulled the dagger out of the poor sod's back, and noticed how high quality this blade was. It was adorned with wyvern leather, gems and platinum. "This isn't exactly an assassin's blade. There's a crest on the hilt. You think you recognize it?"
Vivienne caught the dagger when Varric tossed it to her. "Indeed. This is the Chalon's family crest. Oh, Gaspard, what have you been up to?"
Rajmael looked at the poor dead bastard and pondered what was happening. This made no sense at all. Gaspard may be a bully and a thug, with as much grace as a blind bull in a glass house, but he wasn't this stupid. Why would he kill an emissary for the Council of Heralds with his own dagger, then leave the body and the murder weapon right where it could be found? The servants were all killed by expert assassins, but this murder seemed more like a set up.
A shrill shriek split the silent air as an elven servant came running from the gardens for dear life. But before she could get any further, a white harlequin assassin jumped from the shadows, and stabbed her in the back. The pied professional smashed a vial to the ground and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and on to the apartment balconies. The assassin's accomplices came running out of the gardens, ready to engage. A Mage, Spellbinder, a Brute, several Gladiators, and two Marksmen.
"Venatori Agents!" Rajmael yelled as he drew his sword. The others drew their weapons, and charged their magic as they engaged. Rajmael looked around and saw the harlequin getting away, he had to catch up with her.
The first threat to be dealt with, must always be the spellbinder. The tomes they carried and recited from, held the spirits that were bound within the pages, and they used these spirits to increase their allies' physical capability, as well as summoning entrapment circles and hexes. And they were slippery bastards, too. Able to teleport from one spot to another like a swarm of book pages, making them difficult to target. Unfortunately for them, Rajmael was good at moving around, too.
The Inquisitor phase stepped through the melee, passing through the other combatants like a ghost, and stopped right in front of the spellbinder. Before the Tevinter mage could utter another word from his book, Rajmael's slammed his palm on to the man's forehead, and made it explode with a powerful electric charge. Wet chunks of brain and skull flew all over the place.
Solas chucked a Stone-Fist from his staff at one of the Marksmen. The archer jumped out of the way, but Solas struck his staff downward, and Veilstrike smashed the limber assailant right out of the air in mid-flip. The Marksmen landed on his head at a bad angle, and the weight of his body broke his neck.
The other Marksmen had the misfortune of trying to outshoot both Sera and Varric. The Red Jenny thief and Dwarven Merchant shot him down like a quail, and turned his body into a pincushion.
With Thunderstrike in hand, Blackwall easily broke the Gladiator's shield like it was made of clay. Lightning surged through the Avvarian mace like a storm cloud. With a powerful backhanded strike, Blackwall smashed the Gladiator right in his unprotected chest and crushed every bone inside, and the surge of electricity blew out the man's back and sent his internal organs flying.
The Brute swung his his giant battle axe with fearsome force, enough to cleave a tree in half. Indeed, this fierce human was quite adept with his weapon. But Iron Bull was even better. The qunari bull rushed his opponent before he could swing his weapon again, and knocked the Vint into a nearby wall. Bull heel kicked the guy so hard, he probably broke all his ribs, then finished him off with his by swinging his axe so hard into his abdomen, he split him in half.
Avenger was truly a sword worthy of Fereldan royalty. Over three hundred years old and it still kept its razor sharp edge. The Spellcaster was going to feel just how sharp the Avenger truly was. Cassandra purged the mana from the Tevinter Mage's veins and attacked with her sword. Even without his magic, this Venatori fanatic was formidable, using his spearheaded staff as a lethal weapon. He expertly lunged, and stabbed at her with his spearhead, his attacks darting off her shield. Cassandra planted her feet and timed her shield bash with the Vint's spear strike, making the tip of the spear slide off the shield's face. Closing the gap between them, Cassandra stepped in and brought her sword down on the Spellcaster's head. The Venator tried to block the blade with his staff, but it was for naught. The Avenger cut through the staff like it was twig, and split the Spellcaster's head in two, like a melon.
With this squad of Venatori dead, Rajmael and the others chased after the Harlequinn, she would have answers they would need. But to their own shock, they found that the entire apartment complex was practically infested with Venatori agents. How did they sneak in here?
Obviously, the Venatori were just as surprised to see the Inquisitor and his party. They were prepared to handle defenseless servants and unsuspecting Chevaliers, but they weren't prepared to handle the Inquisitor and his band of professional killers. Rajmael and his companions mowed through the cultist scum like grass.
They chased the Harlequinn into the empty Royal Apartment Complex where she was surrounded by even more Venatori Spellcasters, Gladiators and Zealots. Varric laid down a mine field, while Cassandra purged all mana from the area, and Dorian finished them off with a powerful ball of fire. Unable to summon their magic, and completely surrounded by volatile explosives, the Venatori cultists were burned into crisp, black husks that screamed for their god to save them.
With her backup dead, and a bunch of pissed off people who just wiped out an entire platoon of powerful maleficar glaring at her, the Harlequin made one last desperate attempt to get away, only to run face first into a stiletto, courtesy of a certain elven spy.
Somehow Rajmael wasn't surprised to see Ambassador Briala here.
"Fancy meeting you here, Inquisitor." The Ambassador said sarcastically. "Shouldn't you be back at the Ball Room making the nobility grovel at your feet?"
"I quickly got tired of that uncomfortable sensation of those pussies kissing my ass." Rajmael responded with equal sarcasm.
Briala gave a light chuckle. "Alas, that is half of all politics. You've cleaned this place out. It'll take a month to clean the Tevinter blood of the marble." The ambassador sad satirically as she walked towards the balcony. "I came down here to save or avenge my missing people, but you've beaten me to it." The city elf looked down into the courtyard and eyed the dead emissary still laying halfway in the garden fountain. "So, the Council of Heralds' Emissary…that's not your work is it?"
"If it was, do you honestly think I would tell you because you asked politely?" Rajmael answered sardonically.
"Sometimes the best way to get an answer, is not to receive one." Briala laughed. "You may have arrived with the Grand Duke, but you don't seem to be doing his dirty work. I knew he was smuggling in his Chevaliers, but bringing in Tevinter assassins? Murdering a Council Emissary? Those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight."
Rajmael forced himself not to smile. It would seem Briala was more in the dark than he is, and she wasn't aware of the things he knew. "If Gaspard is behind this, then he is not doing it alone. The Duke is not a man of subtlety."
"That he isn't." Briala agreed. "I misjudged you, Inquisitor. It seems you may be an ally worth having after all."
"You're damned right you misjudged me." Ramael said spitefully. "But the better question is, are you an ally worth having?"
"What could your Inquisition do with an army of elven spies? You should think of that."
"Right. And you'd be so willing to aid me because of your charitable and pious nature." Rajmael said sardonically. "What do you want in exchange?"
"Help me help our people." Briala answered honestly, almost eagerly.
"Our people?" Rajmael scoffed. "Not an hour ago, I wasn't even a fucking elf to you simply because of my being Dalish and my rank."
"I was wrong, and for that I do apologize." Briala confessed. "I know which way the wind is blowing, and I'd bet coin that you'll be a part of the peace talks tonight. And if you happen to lean a little bit our way? It could prove most advantageous, for us both. Just a thought."
Rajmael watched as the Ambassador jumped off the balcony and, in the true bardic fashion, disappear in to the darkness of the night.
"Ugh! More bribing and double-dealings!" Cassandra groaned. "How corrupt can this nation be?!"
"That's the nature of the Game, darling." Vivienne answered stoically. "You either play it, or get played. It's much more sophisticated than just coming to blows like uncouth dog-lords."
"Take it from a professional, never trust what a spymaster says at face value." Iron Bull warned. "They're always looking for an angle."
"And now you've been bribed by the three most powerful parties at the ball!" Dorian laughed. "Now it's almost like a Tevinter soiree."
"You guys should see the kind of shit they pull in Orzammar, or in the Merchants guild." Varric said dourly. "Then you'd understand why I never attend guild meetings, and why I drink so much."
"This doesn't make a lot of sense." Rajmael stated worriedly. "This Venatori were here fully armed, in the heart of this palace, and they didn't even bother disguising themselves. Gaspard may want the throne, but this is too subtle for him to plan. Someone with a lot of pull and influence got these Vints in here."
"Hey! Come check this out!" Sera screamed from around the corner. She had found the Royal suite, reserved only for the empress, and inside there was a large, gilded door with a rather complicated looking lock. "Lookee what we got here! The Empress' pretty piggy bank! Wonder what kind of naughty nickers she's got stashed away, eh?"
Rajmael had no compunction about jacking some loot from the wealthiest monarch in all of Thedas, she probably never lacked for gold given how extravagant she can afford to live in the middle of a war. And besides, what better place to find the Empress' secrets than in her personal vault?
Despite the expense that went into its make and the complexity of the locks, Sera cracked the vault like an egg. And sure enough, there were priceless treasures stored away in there. Rare pieces of art never seen by foreign or peasant eyes, priceless family heirlooms that dated back generations, and of course, jewelry befitting an empress.
But there was one thing that caught Rajmael's eye the most amongst all these valuables. A simple locket. Not made of gold or silver, and not encrusted with rare gemstones, but made of wood, and carved with traditional elven designs. It was carefully placed in a glass case amongst several necklaces of gold, rubies, platinum and sapphire, but this one was sat in a place of honor amongst them. Why would this be here?
Rajmael took the elven necklace and dangled it in front of him to better inspect it.
"That's elven isn't it? Why would that be here of all places?" Dorian asked.
"Of all the nice, shiny things Empress Fancy-Tits' got, why does she need some elfy junk?" Sera asked disappointedly.
"A gift from happier times." Blackwall answered sympathetically.
"She keeps it to try and find the happiness it once brought her, but now it only brings her sorrow." Cole said sadly. "She wants to remember the joy it brought her, no matter how much pain it brings."
"Oh, such sentimentality is a foolish mistake. Tsk, tsk, Celene." Vivienne chided.
"Wow. This sounds just like the sort of fake shit I'd put in those terrible romance books I wrote." Varric commented.
Cassandra touched the amber pendant around her neck. Rajmael had given it to her as a sign of his love, did Celene receive such a gift from Briala to represent their love?
Rajmael took the necklace and secured it in his pocket. It may come in useful later.
~XoXoXo~
The Bell was ringing for the next phase of the ball, the peace talks were going to begin soon. Rajmael and the others discreetly made their way out of the garden.
Rajmael reappeared fashionably late, and just in time, too. The band was just starting up their next tune. Rajmael noticed the three contenders of the ball were speaking on the far side balcony. He wanted to discuss what their next step should be, but a certain elegantly dressed noble lady approached with grace and purpose.
"Inquisitor Lavellan." The lady curtsied. "Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. We met briefly at your introduction. We haven't been properly introduced, welcome to my party."
"Should I be surprised that the hostess of this little soiree wants to see me now?" Rajmael said sarcastically.
"This is Orlais, my dear Inquisitor. Nothing happens here by accident." Florianne laughed. "And after how well you've charmed the whole court, how could I not officially make your acquaintance. I believe you and I are concerned about the actions of a certain…person." The Grand Duchess motioned Rajmael to follow her. "Come, dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dance floor."
"Dancing with a heathen elf? What will the rest of the court say?" Rajmael asked with a sarcastic smile.
"I'm eager to find out." Florianne smiled. "Unless, of course, you feel you're not up to the task."
"All Dalish love to dance." Rajmael assured as he offered his arm. "Please, let me show you."
"I'd be delighted, Lord Inquisitor." Florianne smiled as she gently took his arm.
The Grand Duchess and The Inquisitor stood amongst the other nobles on the dance floor, her hand held delicately in his as they performed the Nevarran Waltz.
"Have the Dalish gained a sudden interest in Orlesian Politics?" Florianne asked as they walked side by side to the music. "What do you know of our war?"
"I know that the outcome of this war will have an effect on the rest of Thedas." Rajmael answered neutrally. "The rest is all politics."
"No doubt you're correct. I wouldn't be surprised if Orlais is at the center of all Thedas' attention right now." The two of them walked in tandem with the music. "It took a great deal of effort to arrange tonight's peace talk, yet others would use this as an opportunity for blackest treason. The future of the empire is at stake. Neither one of us wants to see it fall."
The music picked up. The two dance partners turned to face one another and bowed in the motion and grace of swans. While Rajmael's feet kept up with the music, his mind remained sharp. "Are you certain that's what we both want, Lady Flroianne?"
The two exchanged hands back and forth into an inside turn, Rajmael led and she followed with astounding fluidity and grace. All the couples danced in natural turns on the ballroom floor, but many were focusing on the Duchess and the Inquisitor.
Cassandra looked down on to the dancefloor and was surprised to see Rajmael dancing with the Grand Duchess. While she was never one for dancing herself, she couldn't help but feel a searing pang of jealously burn inside her. She unconsciously gripped the marble railing above the dancefloor, and caused it to crack in her strong hands as she enviously watched the extravagantly dressed Orlesian noble dance with her lover.
"I hope we are of one mind on this matter, Lord Inquisitor." Florianne stated as she followed his lead.
Rajmael held and led the Duchess with both grace and certainty. "In times like these, both in and out of the Orlesian Court, it is difficult to determine friend from foe. Isn't that right, Your Grace?"
"I know you arrived as a guest of my brother, and have been everywhere in the palace." Florianne responded as they both performed a Reverse Natural Turn. "You are a curiosity to some, and a matter of concern to others."
"Am I the curiosity or the concern to you, Your Grace?" Rajmael smiled almost sinisterly.
"A little of both, actually." Florianne smiled. "This evening is a matter of great importance, Inquisitor. I wonder what role you will play in it. Do you even know who is to be trusted in the Winter Palace? Can you distinguish friend from foe?"
"I trust the Inquisition, Your Grace." Rajmael answered slyly. "In a place where lies and deception are currency, the only ones that can be trusted are those who seek the truth."
All eyes of the court were now on the Grand Duchess and the Inquisitor as they performed a series of complicated, and eloquent Inside Turns as they circles around the dance floor.
"In the Winter Palace, everyone is alone." Florianne confirmed. "It cannot have escaped your notice that certain parties are involved in dangerous machinations this evening."
"And here I thought dangerous machinations and backstabbing intrigue was the national pastime of this empire." Rajmael chuckled.
The music was reaching its crescendo. The entire court watched in awe and amazement as Rajmael upped the tempo of their step into an elegant series of turns that demonstrated both strength and grace form both partners. Flrorianne spun to her left, as Rajmael gently gripped her left shoulder with his right arm. She stopped spinning when his right arm blocks her body. With her momentum stopped, and her body held in Rajmael strong arm, Florianne simply leaned back while he supports her by holding her shoulder and ended in a graceful, almost intimate dip. Her slender body held up from the ground only by Rajmael's gentle grip.
The whole court gave a standing ovation as the two dance partners stood back up, hand in hand, as Rajmael led her off the floor to the dying beat of the music.
"The attack will come soon. You must stop Gaspard before he strikes." Florianne warned as she dexterously slipped a key out of her sleeve and into Rajmael's hand. "In my brother's office, you will find the orders he has given to his troops. And in the Guest Royal Wing Garden, you will find the captain of my brother's mercenaries. He knows all of Gaspard's secrets. I'm sure you can persuade him to be forthcoming."
Well, that was a surprise. She just gave him everything he'd need to discredit and practically destroy her own brother. Now he knew Florianne has an ulterior motive. "We'll see what the night has in store for us, won't we, Grand Duchess?"
~XoXoXo~
Now was probably the best time to speak with each of his advisors. Each one had spoken to a royal candidate or someone who represented them.
"That was marvelous! You'll be the talk of the Court for months!" Josephine applauded. "I had no idea you could dance so well."
"All the clans gather at every Arlathvhen, and every time we hold a massive dance party." Rajmael said smilingly. "Some of us spend year's practicing to be the best dancer of all the clans. I came in fifth last time."
"I hope you've got some good news." Cullen said grimly. "It seems the peace talks aren't all that peaceful."
"Florianne is up to something." Rajmael answered seriously. "She knows about everything that's going on, yet somehow a bucket load of Venatori agents got in here on her watch. But she points the finger at her brother."
"Florianne and Gaspard are very close, but she'd sell him out in heartbeat to save her own skin." Leliana responded. "It may be up to us to determine who will reign when the peace talks fall through."
"So…." Rajmael started. "Who do you think the Inquisition should support?"
"That in itself is a trial." Josephine stated harshly. "Each candidate has their skills and merits, but each one has a flaw that could be the precedence for a new war."
"Well, each of you has chatted up a different candidate." Rajmael pointed out. "Let's hear it!"
"I, myself, would support the Grand Duke." Cullen started. "His has the stronger claim to the Golden Throne, he has the support of the military and has a mind for warfare."
"It takes more to be a ruler than being able to lead men into battle." Josephine pointed out.
"True." Cullen conceded. "The drawback is Gaspard wants to bring Orlais back to the glory years of Kordrilius Drakon's expansion days and reclaim their lost provinces. You can bet your boots that if the Inquisition supports the Grand Duke, we may as well be supporting a bloody war with both Nevarra and Ferelden and we could very well lose support from both kingdoms."
"Which is precisely why we must support Empress Celene." Josephine chimed. "She is the rightful ruler and is a proven diplomat, reformer and politician. She has worked tirelessly to improve relations with neighboring kingdoms and is trying to push Orlais into an era of enlightenment."
"If she truly was such a skilled ruler, then the empire wouldn't be where it is now." Cullen rebuked.
"On that matter, I have to agree with our Commander." Stepped in Leliana. "Celene is far too concerned about appearances and courtly intrigue to actually move the nation forward in the right direction."
"So are you saying we should support the Grand Duke?" Rajmael asked.
"Of course not." Leliana snorted. "Well, not publicly, perhaps." That statement made the Lord Inquisitor quirk an eyebrow.
"Gaspard doesn't have any skill at politics and is more or less a finely dressed thug, and he will bring further death and ruin to Orlais by trying to conquer and enslave Ferelden and Neverra once more. Celene doesn't have the fortitude to make real changes that will actually improve the lives of the people of Orlais, she'll only do so much as long as the nobles are happy. Who we truly need is Briala." Rajmael stated authoritatively
"Briala?" Cullen asked incredulously. "Somehow I doubt the nobility of Orlais will ever bend the knee for and Elf, no offense, your grace."
"None taken." Rajmael answered.
"No." Leliana stated. "But they will answer to a guileless buffoon like Gaspard while he has an army of elven spies pointing daggers at his back with blackmail waiting on raven's wings."
Rajmael and the rest of his advisors took a moment to let what Sister Nightingale said sink in.
"You understand that to do that Celene must…die." Josephine pointed out apprehensively.
"Then let her die." Leliana said dispassionately. "Celene allowed all of this to happen because she cared more about her appearance rather than the welfare of her people. Briala however can bring true peace to the empire, not just within and outside its border, but for the elves as well."
Rajmael took a moment to consider his Councilors' advice. He felt he knew what he had to do, but first he had to look into what Florianne had told him. Somehow he knew in his gut she was up to something. The Duchess couldn't know so much, yet have done so little.
~XoXoXo~
Now was probably the best time to speak to the three center pieces of tonight's festivities. May as well start with the man who invited him here in the first place. Rajmael found Gaspard on one of the side balconies, drinking enough port to drown a fleet.
"Ah, Inquisitor! Come, have a drink!" Gaspard invited gregariously.
You're in the middle of a war, with your men dying in the field and all you can do is drink? Rajmael thought to himself. He had to admit though, Gaspard could really hold his liqour. "I'm curious to know, Gaspard, if and when things turn in your favor, what are your goals as Emperor of Orlais? Surely you've got some plan in mind?"
"Don't worry, Inquisitor, I haven't forgotten my promise to you." Gaspard assured as he downed another glass of port. "And you're right, I do have plans. I'm not so petty as to want the throne simply because I'm the oldest grandson of Emperor Judaciel I. The first thing, the most important thing, I must do for this empire, is to reclaim our lost provinces. I cannot allow Ferelden and Nevarra to chip away at my people's borders. Celene is content to bow to the whining voices of the upstarts who stole those provinces from us, but I will lead my people back to glory."
Now that was something Rajmael couldn't abide. There was a reason those countries rebelled against Orlais. "You would go back to warring with other nations simply to appease your country's reputation?"
"I fought at the battle of White River when Loghain Mac Tir wrested Ferelden from my uncle, Emperor Florian. I was at the Battle of the Blasted Hills when Nevarra invaded it." Gaspard said bitterly. "And now look what has become of the Empire since Celene took control. Demons and cults run amok, and elves are attacking our imperial soldiers, and Celene is too concerned about appearances to do anything about it. She would have us become a spineless nation of scholars, who would rather drink tea with a threat instead of fighting it. I cannot let her weakness destroy the empire my forefathers have built."
Rajmael wasn't sure if Gaspard was being drunk or actually emotional, but he could swear he saw tears starting to form in Gaspard's eyes. Gaspard may be a drunk and a warmonger, but he was speaking the truth, and he actually believed in what he was saying. An honest, but dangerous prospect. However, maybe this was the kind of man they needed to stand against Corypheus: someone who will stand up to a problem, instead of worrying about courtly bullcrap. Rajmael had always hated Chevaliers, but he also hates the Chantry, and now he was sleeping with the Right Hand of the Divine.
~XoXoXo~
Rajmael slipped the key to Gaspard's office to Leliana and instructed her to retrieve those orders. If the peace talks fall through, he could definitely use some leverage on Gaspard and the other contenders. But before he followed Florianne's lead about Gaspard's mercenaries, he decided to speak with the other two VIPs of these talks.
Rajmae decided it was finally time for him and the empress to meet face to face. But first he had to get through those three insipid ladies-in-waiting who liked to finish each other's sentences.
"How can we help you, Inquisitor?" Couteau greeted politely.
"We do enjoy speaking with you." Columbe insisted giddily.
"We will speak to you on the empress' behalf." Fleur concluded stoically.
This was getting annoying. "Then maybe you can tell me the significance of this elven locket that I happened to stumble on?"
"Oh, dear." Couteau went pale.
"Where did you find that?!" Columbe gasped.
"We will get the Empress right away." Fleur stated frantically.
The three ladies scurried off and not two minutes later, Rajmael was greeted by the Empress of all Orlais. She carried herself with such grace and poise, and the dress and mask she wore accentuated her beauty, despite the fact she was getting older. But Rajmael saw through her calm façade and gilded mask, and saw the worry hidden behind her eyes.
"Inquisitor Lavellan. I regret that we did not have time to speak earlier." The Empress greeted politely. "No doubt you have many questions."
"Lockets like these are given as gifts of affection from a lover." Rajmael held out the elven locket and traced his finger along the engraved designs on its face. "This was a gift from Briala, wasn't it?"
"Yes. She gave it to me for my coronation, many years ago." Celene answered with an undercurrent of pain in her voice. "I…don't know why I kept it. It was a foolish thing to do."
"What exactly happened between you two?" Rajmael asked.
"She wanted change, and she thought I could deliver it." A look of regret washed over her face from behind her mask. "But I couldn't, not without tearing my empire apart. Centuries of culture and prejudice do not change overnight. But in the end, I failed her, betrayed her. I should have dared more, but these are some things that even a throne can't accomplish."
"You still love her." Rajmael surmised sympathetically.
"Perhaps I do, but I cannot place her above all the people in my empire, Inquisitor." That sympathetic look washed away and was replaced by that authoritative look that befitted a shemlen empress. "Dispose of the locket however you wish, Inquisitor. It means nothing to me."
"Aren't the elves a part of your empire, too?" Rajmael asked grimly. "Or are my people just cattle to you?"
"I wish I could help both of our people, Inquisitor." Celene answered sadly. "But, I regret that ideals alone aren't enough to change the world we live in."
~XoXoXo~
So behind all that extravagence, jewelry and grace, Empress Celene Valmont the First was just another woman with a broken heart, and a complicated situation that was out of her control. This could prove useful. But first he would need to speak with Briala, who was waiting on the balcony for the conclusion to the talks.
"Inquisitor." The Ambassador greeted. "Have you given any thought to what I said?"
"Just out of curiosity, Ambassador, what do you intend to gain from these talks? What's your goal?"
"For the elves of this empire to finally have a voice." Briala answered with righteousness. "To have even one of our own stand as an equal amongst Orlais' nobles. One who cannot be ignored, or swept aside."
Of all the things Rajmael expected to hear, he expected that answer the least. "Really? That's is what you're after in these talks?"
"After the Blight in Ferelden, the crown elevated a local hahren to Bann of the Alienage, and King Alistair granted the lands of Ostagar to the Dalish, to do with as they please for aiding them in Battle of Denerim. Is it so wrong to want the same thing for the elves of Orlais?"
And here Rajmael thought Briala was just acting out of vengeance's sake against a former lover. "You have to realize that Ferelden and Orlais are totally different animals, Briala. The Feredans respect deed and honor, whereas the Orlesians only care for appearances and social rank. They could never accept something like that without violence ensuing."
"And perhaps you're right, Inquisitor." Briala confirmed. "But that won't stop me from fighting for my people, even if I must die to do so. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"
"Actually, I was hoping you'd clear up what I'm thinking about this." Rajmael dangled the elven locket out in front of the Ambassador.
Briala's eyes went wide with shock. "Where did you find that?!
"It was sitting in the lost and found of Empress Celene's personal vault." Rajmael asnwered sarcastically. "But I take it this is actually yours."
"It was my mother's originally." Briala answered sadly. "I gave it to her in secret when she was coronated. If Gaspard found this it would destroy her! Why would she do something so foolish?"
"Perhaps deep down, she still cares for you." Rajmael answered sympathetically as he handed Briala back her locket. "Perhaps she even regrets what she did to you."
"I…I'm not sure I can believe that. But I would like to." Briala said as she held the locket to her heart.
"Having love ripped away, and feeling its bitter pain is something I'm intimately familiar with, Ambassador." Rajmael informed as he remembered his loved ones he lost. "Perhaps you two were better together than as enemies."
"Maybe we were." Briala confirmed. "But in order for any peace to be between us, she would need to make the first step."
~XoXoXo~
The final stages of the talks were commencing, Rajmael and his group snuck out of the ballroom to follow Florianne's lead. Leliana urged extreme caution as this could very likely be a trap. When they entered the Royal Rooms Rajmael felt the Anchor crackling in his hand, and felt the unwelcome, familiar magic of a Rift. Here? In the Winter Palace?
"You painted Orlesian arsehole!" A foreign Fereldan voice cursed. "When I get out of here I'm gonna butcher you like the pigs that you are!"
Rajmael busted through the door into the nearby courtyard where the voice was screaming, and was surprised to be greeted, not only by a Rift spewing out demons, but by Venatori Marksmen pointing their arrows right at him. Well, shit.
"So good of you to except my invitation, Inquisitor." Greeted the familiar voice of the Grand Duchess. She stood over them on a balcony with the kind of arrogant smile that was famous amongst Orlesian nobles. "I wasn't sure you'd taken my bait. You're quite the challenge to read."
Rajmael returned that arrogant smile to the Duchess. "Here for another dance, Florianne? We've got quite the audience this time."
"Alas, I fear I have no time for one last song with you." Florianne lamented sarcastically. "Such a shame, you dance so well."
"Oh, but we will have one last dance, Florianne." Rajmael promised. "When I'm tap dancing all over your grave!"
"I'm afraid I don't see that happening." The Duchess mocked. "It was so good of you to walk into my trap so willingly, I quickly grew tired of your meddling. My Lord Corypheus insisted that the Empress die tonight. I just needed you out of the room long enough to run my dagger into Celene's heart."
This Orlesian bitch willingly served The Elder One? "You, an Orlesian Royal, would betray your own country to damnation for Corypheus? What kind of drugs are you smoking to make you think that's a good idea?"
"For someone so formidable, you think so small." The Grand Duchess laughed. "Why rule an empire when I can rule a whole world?! With Celene's death Corypheus' demon army, conjured from a nightmare, shall overtake all of Southern Thedas, and then he will cast down the absent Maker, and rule from The Black City! Thedas will finally be led by an attentive god, and when I present him your head, he will make ruler of all Thedas, Second only to the Elder One!"
Rajmael rubbed his forehead wearily. "I was being sarcastic, you didn't actually have to do the obligatory 'Evil Villain Speech'."
"Please?" Dorian beseeched. "You could spare us all the humiliation, it is rather embarrassing."
"Indeed." Vivienne concurred. "Such displays are disgrace to Orlais."
"You think these villain types practice those speeches in private, or do they make it up as they go?" Varric asked sarcastically.
"Seriously, do you honestly think this is enough to stop me, Florianne? Or are the chemicals in that makeup you're wearing taking a toll on your brain?" Rajmael goaded.
"Ha! Silly Rabbit." Florianne mocked. "You have no idea what Samson and I have in store for this world. I just needed you out of the ballroom long enough to strike. No one, not even Gaspard, in their darkest nightmares, would ever have suspected that I would be the one to slay the Empress with my own hand! Corypheus will delight in me after I hand the empire to him!"
"And now you've just told me your whole plan." Rajmael chuckled disbelievingly. "You've got to be high on something."
"A pity you won't see the rest my soiree, Inquisitor. They'll be talking about it for centuries. Kill them, and bring me the Herald's marked hand. It will make for a good gift for the Elder One." Florianne walked out of the courtyard with that arrogant step in her stride, and that shit-eating grin on her face.
Rajmael was going to enjoy wiping that look off her face. The Marksmen released a volley of arrows at The Inquisitor. Rajmael raised his Shimmering Shield, and the arrowheads slid off him like rain drops, while his mages and archer struck down the Venatori Marksmen with fire, ice, bolts and arrows.
Within seconds, the Rift crackled and roared as demons spewed forth like an infestation. Under most circumstances, being in a closed off courtyard filled with demons would have spelled the end for anyone. But there was only one major difference. The Inquisitor and his companions weren't trapped in a courtyard full of demons. The demons were trapped in a courtyard with them.
While Rajmael's companions laid waste to the various demons that were sorry enough to crawl out of the Fade. The warriors cut them down and smashed them to pieces, while the mages called upon their arcane powers to destroy the demonic invaders, and the rogues struck them from the shadows with stealth, explosives and steel. Within minutes the demons were slain and the Rift sealed.
The tied up mercenary captain was more than a little bit pissed about being fed to demons, and believed wholeheartedly that Gaspard set him up. With the promise of better pay, and better treatment, Rajmael quickly got the man's cooperation and promise to testify against Gaspard if needs be.
Time was of the essence. They had to get to Florianne before it was too late, but every step they took to navigate through the Royal Wing back to the Ballroom was interrupted by Venatori agents and Orlesian Harlequins.
And all the while, Rajmael contemplated one thing: who shall rule Orlais? Empress Celene, the proven diplomat and reformer, who worked tirelessly to promote peace with other nations, but who had ultimately failed to maintain peace within her empire for fear of appearances. Gaspard, the confessed usurper and warmonger who wished to return to warring and annexing nations, but was also a man of action, who would not back down from the Venatori daring to challenge the might of Orlais. And then there was Briala, the elven leader who sought to elevate their peoples' status in the Orlesian Empire, no matter the cost, or who might have to die.
It was never a good idea to stand between the Inquisitor and his mission. A concept that failed to dawn on these Venatori, a mistake that would cost them dearly. Rajmael incinerated their bodies with lightning that could rival a sea storm, and with masterful skill, he plunged his sword into their hearts, cut down their bodies, leaving behind a trail of singed and severed bodies behind him in a river blood.
~XoXoXo~
With the Venatori obstacles dead, Rajmael found an alternate path back to the ballroom, and just in time, too. The peace talks were reaching their conclusion, and Gaspard was walking his sister towards the Empress.
"Thank the Maker you've arrived." Cullen praised. "The peace talks are ending, and we still don't know who the assassin is."
"Cullen, Grand Duchess Florianne is the assassin!" Rajmael hissed.
The Commander's eyes and face were painted with shock. "What? How could…?! What should we do?"
Now was the moment of truth. The fate of an entire empire was now resting on Rajmael's next action. Who should he save? Who should rule? The Duchess was getting closer to the Empress. Within in a split second, Rajmael realized what needed to be done.
"Cullen, get Josephine and Leliana. I want the three of you to grab some drinks and enjoy the show." Rajmael answered calmly.
"What?!" Cullen couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Just trust me." Rajmael assured. Rajmael strode towards the dance floor, the nobles graciously parted way for him. Rajmael saw Cassandra standing amongst the crowd and gave her a flirtatious wink. Everyone's attention was set on the Inquisitor as he approached all three contenders and the Grand Duchess. Their awed gasps instantly directed the Duchess' attention to the Inquisitor.
"Duchess Florianne! We owe the court one last performance before the night is over." Rajmael called amicably. "After all, you gathered them all here for a grand spectacle, did you not?"
Florianne was in shock, but she tried to hide it. How could the Inquisitor be alive? "I-Inquisitor?"
"Smile, Your Grace." Rajmael urged mockingly. "You're at the center of everyone's attention, just like you wanted. You wouldn't want them to think you've lost control. I mean, this is your little soiree, isn't it?"
She could feel all the eyes of Orlais on her, and not in the way she had hoped. "Wh-who wouldn't be delighted to speak with you, Your Excellency?"
Rajmael could sense her resolve weakening. She was being shown up in front of the whole court, and it was affecting her. The ultimate way to break an Orlesian's spirit, was to humiliate them in front of their peers. "Now, what was that little thing you said to me, before you sicked your Tevinter assassins on me? Oh, yes. You needed to keep me out of the ballroom long to plunge your dagger into Celene's heart. Right?"
The Empress looked down on her cousin with a scowl that could peel the bark of a tree.
"I realize I'm being a poor guest, Your Grace, but it's just so hard to appreciate my host, especially when she's being so fickle with her favor." Rajmael's smile grew bigger as Florianne's arrogance grew smaller. He circle around her and could feel her spirit breaking. "I mean, trying to kill me is one thing. But framing your own brother for the murder of Council Emissary? That's pretty low. It was your dagger, the one bearing the Chalons family crest, sticking out of his of his back. You just left it there to frame your brother and turn the entire court against him."
A sense of shock and outrage overcame Gaspard as he looked at his own sister with a look of disgust.
Florianne was starting to shake like a leaf as she felt the hateful gaze of the entire Winter Palace bearing down on her, and no Corypheus to save her. She desperately looked around the whole ballroom for any of her subordinates.
Rajmael noticed her darting gaze. "Who are you looking for, Your Grace? Oh, your assassins? The ones you let infiltrate the palace? I'm afraid they're all dead. I killed them on the way over here. Almost got blood on my fancy threads, too."
At this point, Florianne was on the verge of tears, and Rajmael wanted to laugh at her. "And it was such a good plan, too! Like something out of Hard in Hightown! Your cousin, your brother, even the entire Council of Heralds. Any and everyone who could possibly rival you under one roof, all set up for you to slay. Like leading lambs to the slaughter. It was such grand party, I'm sorry to be the one who ruined. But not really."
The tears in Florianne's eyes were almost out, and Rajmael could see her trembling. "Such dramatic tales you spin, Your Holiness. But do you really think anyone would believe them?"
"That is for a judge to decide…Cousin." Empress said damningly.
The Empress' chevaliers walked down to the dance floor with the intent to arrest the Duchess. Florianne looked desperately to her brother. "Gaspard? Gaspard!" Florianne begged.
"I…did not wish to believe you could do this, Sister. But I have no choice." Gaspard turned his back on his sister like he didn't even know her.
Florianne reached into her sleeves to pull out her poisoned stilettos, perhaps she could still get away with her life. But her sleeves were empty! What happened to them? How could she have lost them?
Two metallic clinks struck the marble dance floor as Florianne's stilettos fell at the Inquisitor's feet. Dropped by a strange, pale young man, whose face Florianne couldn't see.
"No. You will not hurt anyone else anymore." Cole said confidently and disappeared from the floor and from everyone else's memory.
"Thank you, Cole." Rajmael smiled.
Florianne collapsed to the floor, sobbing like a little girl. And just to rub salt in the wound, Rajmael tore her mask from her face, revealing her tear stained face, with ruined makeup, to the whole court. The ultimate form of disgrace to an Orlesian.
"You tried to play The Game against me, and you got played, Florianne. See if your Elder One can help you now." Rajmael sneered as the Chevalier dragged the sobbing Duchess away.
Rajmael saw Celene, Gaspard and the Empress making their way to the balcony and could already feel the tension emanating off of them. He'd better get over there before blood was spilt.
"Your sister attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard!" Briala accused.
"You're the spymaster, Rabbit." Gaspard denounced. "The only one who could have seen this coming, and the only one to gain from this atrocity is you."
"So you deny any knowledge of your own sister's actions?" Briala asked rhetorically.
"That's right!" Gaspard shouted. "I never would have suspected my own sister! But you…you knew about this whole setup and did nothing!"
"I don't know what's more amazing, the fact that you think that I'm omniscient, or the fact that you believe in your own innocence." Briala balked.
"Enough!" Celene commanded. "Tevinter plots against our empire while you two bicker like children! For the sake of Orlais, I will have answers!"
Rajmael now held the winning hand in this little game. And he knew just who to help, and whose throat he was going to step on.
"Gaspard's right. Briala did know about this." Rajmael answered confidently, raising a look of shock from both the Duke and the Ambassador. "And I wouldn't have stopped Florianne if it wasn't for her."
"The two of you were working together?" Celene asked disbelievingly.
"But, of course." Briala answered, she played along wonderfully.
"Briala handed me Gaspard's orders to have his general sneak his Chevaliers into the Winter Palace." Rajmael continued.
"A mere precaution should the worst arise." Gaspard reasoned, but did not deny. "And in light of my sister's action, it was not a foolish one."
"You claim to know nothing of your sister's actions, yet came prepared for it? You truly think anyone will believe such a convenient lie?" Briala scoffed.
"And we have the captain of Gaspard's Fereldan mercenaries." Rajmae revealed. "He will testify that he and his men were hired to raid the talks and stage a coup."
"Fereldan mercenaries? I didn't think you'd stoop as low as that, Cousin." Celene scowled.
"Don't be naïve, Celene. The only difference between mercenaries and soldiers is their pay grade." Gaspard scoffed.
"In light of overwhelming evidence, I have no choice but to declare you an enemy of the Orlesian Empire." Celene said with full authority and regality. "Duke Gaspard de Chalons, you are hereby sentenced to death."
"It is better to die trying to fight for what is mine, instead of trying to lick everyone's boots to appease them, like a sniveling beggar." Gaspard spat. The empress' chevaliers came and escorted the Duke away.
Celene looked to Briala with a familiar tenderness in her eyes. "I…cannot believe you did this for me."
"Celene…." Briala returned Celene's gaze and gently held the empress' hand in hers.
Celene looked to the Inquisitor with gratitude. "Inquisitor…thank you. I owe you my life. And Orlais owes you its future." Celene joined her hand in Briala's and the two held them together lovingly. "And thank you for…us."
"Neither of our people's will forget this. And nor will we." Briala promised.
"You two are the best hope for all your people. Bring them as much joy as you two bring each other." Rajmae implored.
"We will not waste this opportunity you have given us." Celene swore. "Come, stand with us. We shall address the nobility together."
"Wait." Rajmael bade seriously. "There is one last thing I must do before anything else."
Rajmael quickly caught up with the chevaliers who were taking the Duke away. Before they got any further Rajmael stood before the disgraced Duke, the two glared at each other hatefully. The Inquisitor peeled off his glove, revealing the horrid burn scar beneath, and threw it at Gaspard, and Gaspard caught it.
The two chevaliers acknowledged the Inquisitor's gesture. The throwing of the gauntlet was a challenge to a duel, and Gaspard was still a chevalier. The laws of etiquette and honor were very clear. They undid Gaspard's shackles, and gave him back his sword, while the nobles of Orlais huddled together to watch.
"So this is how it ends?" Gaspard sighed. "I suppose I should be grateful for you allowing me to die with a sword in my hand. Do you intend to use your Dalish wooden sword against me?"
"You are not worthy of such an honor." Rajmael hissed. "I'm going to kill you with your own sword."
"Even after all this? Why?" Gaspard asked curiously as he assumed his stance.
"It's stupid simple, Gaspard. I am an elf, and you're a Chevalier. And I fucking hate Chevaliers!"
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Gaspard lunged with his sword, Rajmael evaded.
The Arcane Warrior could tell from that one attack, that Gaspard's injuries took a terrible toll on him. His lunge fell short, and his stance was unsteady. The Duke was old and weakened, whereas Rajmael was still in his prime. This would be quick.
Despite Gaspard's age and crippling injuries, he still swung his sword with incredible speed and precision, but it wasn't enough to do anything to Rajmael as he expertly dodged and evaded each stroke.
Gaspard's temper was getting the better of him. He would not be humiliated so be a heathen knife-ear. He lunged his sword like a lance on horseback, but he overextended his reach. Rajmael turned to the side, ever so slightly, and the blade of the sword missed him by mere hairs. The Inquisitor simultaneously jammed his left elbow into Gaspard's masked face, and hit his right fist under the Duke's sword hand, knocking the Duke off balance and sending his sword out of his hand and into the air.
Rajmael caught the sword as it fell back down and held it to Gaspard's throat. The Inquisitor took a moment to examine the blade and feel the weight and balance of it in his hand. Despite its gaudy appearance, it was masterfully crafted.
"What's that thing you Chevaliers do on graduation day?" Rajmael rhetorically asked with hate in his voice. "Test your blades on elves? Oh, what sick irony this is."
Rajmael raised the sword and brought it down on the Duke's head, easily splitting his skull, and his mask in twain. It wasn't such a bad sword after all.
With the Duke dead, and his body being carried off by the chevaliers, Celene and Briala approached the floor to address the nobility. All the nobles had gathered on to the dance floor, eagerly awaiting for word from their empress. All bristling with anticipation and anxiety from tonight's revelations and bloodshed.
"Lords and ladies of the court, this is a night for celebration!" Celene called. "Tonight those who wished to poison our empire have been slain and we shall now lay down the cornerstone of change that will pave the road to victory against our enemy. And from this victory, we shall create a new world where all men and women live in harmony. And I will begin this new era by welcoming a new member to our court: Marquis Briala of the Dales!"
Briala stood with full dignity and grace that befitted a newly made noble of her standing. The other nobles stood in shock and awe. "This is not just a victory for Halamshiral, or within elves alone. But for all people who live within the empire."
"A thousand years ago, Andraste stood before the might of the Tevinter Imperium with and army of men and elves, and together they brought down the most powerful empire in history." Celene continued. "We shall follow in her footsteps, and face the full might of the Elder One, and we will triumph!"
Celene and Briala both looked to the Inquisitor to say something. Rajmael wasn't one for inspirational speeches, but he knew the importance of words. "The Elder One has come to rip the world we love apart, and the only way to stand up to him, and save our world, is to stand as one. And together, we will stop Corypheus and end the threat he poses to Thedas."
"But that is for tomorrow." Celene stated. "Tonight, let us drink and celebrate our newfound friendship. Let the festivities commence!"
While the nobility began dancing and drinking, Rajmael went out to the balcony for a moment to himself. It's been a long night.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Inquisitor." Said the newly familiar voice of Lady Morrigan. "The nobility make drunken toasts to your accomplishment, and the elves celebrate the victory you gave them, and yet here are all alone. Do you not relish in your victories, Herald?"
"Please, just call me Rajmael." The Herald insisted as he reached into his coat for his pipe. "And I think I've had enough of Orlesians and the parties to last me a lifetime."
"On that we can both agree." Morrigan laughed. "And it seems fortune favors us both, for neither of us will probably be attending another Orlesian gala for some time. By imperial decree of Empress Celene, it would seem I'm to accompany you and offer my considerable expertise to your cause as a liaison of the court."
Rajmael chuckled smoke out of his mouth. "Well, at least I got something good out of this long, difficult night. Welcome to the New Inquisition, Lady Morrigan."
"A most gracious response, Lord Inquisitor. I shall meet you at Skyhold." Lady Morrigan respectfully nodded her head and gracefully exited the balcony.
Rajmael heard the footfall of what could only be Cassandra's steps in those sexy high heels of hers. "Ugh, I can't believe you managed to get out before me. Some Antivan noble insisted that I model for a scupture in this dress."
"I'd actually pay some serious coin for that." Rajmael joked.
"Empress Celene is safe, and the Elder One's plan is foiled. You've done extremely well." Cassandra complimented. "Getting her and Briala back together was a bit of a gamble, but you came out the better for it."
"The two of them once worked brilliantly together." Rajmael responded. "Perhaps now that their quarrel is behind them, the two can now work even better once more. And perhaps my people will now get a better life with Briala ruling the Dales."
"Hopefully this will be one of many victories against Corypheus." Cassandra said. "But for now, we should return to Skyhold. Our men will be on alert and we must continue preparing to face the Venatori."
Rajmael dumped the cinder out of his pipe and stored it away. "Wait. There is one last thing we must do, or I'll never have this opportunity again." Rajmael stood before his lover and bowed to her requestingly. "Will you honor me with a dance, ma vhenan?"
"A dance? After everything we've been through tonight?" Cassandra asked incredulously.
"Can you think of a better time than now?"
Cassandra smiled that beautiful smile of hers, the one she reserved only for him, and placed her arms around him. The two of them gently waltzed to the beat of the band inside. "I suppose this isn't terrible. I had no idea you could dance."
"And I had no idea you looked so beautiful in a dress." Rajmael laughed. "Perhaps we should do both more often?"
"I…make no promises." Cassandra smiled. The two of them danced into the night to music that played for them. And for at least a few hours more, they forgot about the worries and danger of their lives. The two contentedly danced and remained lost in each other's eyes.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Okay, First of all, I know some of you are probably disappointed about the outcome of the Winter Palace, I got a few PMs from people asking me to kill Celene, and I'll admit, I like doing that because I read "The Masked Empire" and watching her die actually tickles me, but hear me out! I've kept her alive and killed Gaspard for a reason. I'll be doing so serious OCness, That's Original Content, very soon, and it involves some of the choices I made. So please bare with me! Oh, and please leave a review, if you don't mind.