Chapter Twenty-Eight: Children of the Revolution
The next month consisted of chasing up the surviving losers of our glorious victory. Our troops were hot on their heels the whole time, and they weren't able to come together again to fight as a single army. So, the job came down to reducing castle gatehouses to rubble with cannonfire, and accepting the inevitable surrenders. The castles and keeps that didn't surrender got taken by force. Soprano may have played the decisive role at Sahrnia, but it was McNulty who brought the fight to all the hardasses once their fortresses had been cracked open. The particulars of each siege are written down in my other publication, The Free Army, should you wish to know more. I found them simply irritating, of no real note beyond the ultimate aim. So did Leha, who went with me as our quartermaster. Even the ones where we did end up fighting. The barons of the Emprise were a stubborn lot.
So the Peacekeeper, singular, became the Peacekeepers, plural. Of course, I am still the Peacekeeper. Sometimes called the First Peacekeeper. Regardless, the name became one of dread to our enemies, and one of hope to commoners across the world.
All baronies within the Emprise du Lion were under our control in short order. So too were the Emerald Graves. The nobles there, so few in number and so far from the seats of power of the Empire, were greatly sympathetic to our cause. We received pledges of troops, which I rejected, and requests for positions of service for sons and daughters, which I accepted. Those that weren't sympathetic sent hostages to us out of fear. I put the whole lot of teenagers together, and sent them to Hearth, after I had dismissed the nobles' forces. DuRellion came with us, our prisoner, albeit one in a golden cage.
Julie, Tam, Ciara and Armen had remained at Sahrnia. Making themselves very popular, hiring all the blacksmiths in the place, labourers for the quarry, establishing a fairer order than had been present under Lady Poulin. The Libertarians were with them, to heal the sick and the wounded. All made possible by the fact that all feudal dues in the Emprise were now payable to me, the Viceroy. We weren't on the edge of our finances any more, far from it.
Which was the start of much trouble, as you may or may not imagine.
The question of what would happen after we had secured our borders against the immediate threats looming over us had never really been asked seriously. However, we had won ourselves plentiful breathing room. Nothing short of the Empress coming out against us openly could have crushed that. With safety, comes comfort and hopes for the future, and everyone has their own ideas about the future running of a country. Especially when there is no press, no internet, in which ideas can be shared and can mix together. Everyone moved in different circles. All of which I would discover as the campaign drew to a close.
In retrospect, I must confess that I handled the whole thing incorrectly. I should have imposed my will, I should have struck first against the next set of enemies.
I should have listened to Julie and Tam.
By the time the Free Army returned to Sahrnia, I had sent word ahead for three days of celebratory games and feasts, a suitably Orlesian response to a set of great victories I was told. The town, or rather its nearby hot springs, were the ideal site. The haunt of dragons now, even after Trevelyan cleared them once, they were still in more or less pristine condition when we had taken the town. Even better, the weather had warmed up considerably as we reached the middle of May. Hot breezy days and cool nights. Absolutely perfect. I have to admit to a huge amount of optimism as I rode into town with Leha.
How foolish of me.
There was an ambush ahead, lobbyists lying in wait rather than soldiers, to jump me at any moment they thought looked spare. No shortage of such moments too, given that we weren't on the march and we weren't in the fight. Of course, not everyone was a hardened political type. Most were far from it, acting as such without even meaning to.
The most prominent of this category, though by no means the only ones, were my two non-magical elven colonels. Soprano and Mike had something on their minds, a fear of sorts. They were simply the first to have the opportunity to speak to me, by virtue of their ranks. It started almost as soon as I myself arrived back in Sahrnia.
The Army began reoccupying the camp we had established in the lower parts of Suledin Keep near the quarries and the bridge to the hot springs. Exactly where the Red Templars would later camp, in fact, if my reading of the situation there was correct. Leha had stalked off somewhere, Armen and Ciara headed off to discuss their own ideas for the future with Velarana, Julie and Tam had briefly returned to Hearth and were due to arrive back later that day. As everyone knew where to go and what to do, I was essentially left to twiddle my thumbs.
So, I went to find McNulty. He was always a good laugh when you were bored, even when he was working. I rode through the orderly camp, arranged into blocks on the levelled hilltops, looking for him. Louise de Villars, following me like a satellite, came along silently. I passed by several of the grenadiers, most were resting in their tents, but they didn't know where McNulty had went. Eventually, I found myself being taken down the mountain road to the camp near Sahrnia itself.
The guards saluted as I passed, and Louise saluted them back. I found it odd that my military culture was seeping into her bones too, along with an alarming number of people who weren't actually required to salute. It was becoming yet another badge of our movement, more than anything about discipline. As I gave a smirk to Louise's masked face, we blundered into the makeshift assembly ground by the river.
When I turned around, I found Mike speaking to what had to be half of her troops, all of them seated in the grass, with Soprano behind. Both of them were in Earth-panoply, as befitted their rank, though Mike's small size made her look like a kid playing dress up. Or it would have if it wasn't for her other physical attributes. Soprano had Patel's helmet on her hip, a gift I gave her to show that she had my complete confidence. She knew the story of its former dragonling-slaying owner. We came to a halt, neither of them having noticed us. I had decided to listen in to the address, and Louise gave no indication that she wished otherwise. I sat forward in the saddle to eavesdrop that little bit better.
"I know this is a change, but I also know you all saw how effective they were against the aristos," Mike said loudly, her voice booming with its usual volume, "So, Colonel Soprano will now show you what you will get. Later, her sergeants will begin drilling you in their use."
Mike waved Soprano forwards, and the latter moved up with a firelance in her hand.
"This is the Modèle 38 rifled-firelance," said Soprano in Orlesian, holding her weapon over her head, "It can kill an armoured knight at three hundred yards, and an unarmoured man or horse at as much as five hundred." Murmurs of both disbelief and appreciation rippled through the crowd, but truth be told, those estimates were probably a little pessimistic. Julie had tested one out at six hundred and fifty yards, with my telescopic sight, and made her mark. Though she was an outlier in more ways than one.
Regardless, Soprano brought the weapon's butt to rest on her hip, its barrel sticking up into the air, her hand around the grip. A sight the men probably enjoyed to no end. Her hourglass figure was part of the reason her people listened to her so intently, I thought. That and the fact she was as dangerous as Tam on a rampage.
"It is the death of every tyrannical little bâtard from here to Ghislain, and beyond," Soprano continued, "It is with this that we will free ourselves, as the Marquise as written. With this, all the wealth, strength and training a chevalier can bring mean nothing." All true, of course. The Qunari were already the terror of the established order across Thedas, and our weapons made theirs look like playthings. Not that theirs couldn't give us trouble, as you dear readers shall see. I think it's important to note that many of my fellow Americans would approve heartily of the Colonel's sentiments, not least significant parts of my own family. An armed populace cannot be coerced, or so goes the theory.
Louise by contrast was not impressed. A snort of derision erupted from her mask, head upturned ever so slightly. My smirk disappeared, replaced by widened eyes that implied polite inquiry. Such an eruption demanded explanation.
"Give me a week, and I will shoot better than this pute de camp in my sleep," Louise murmured, leaning across to me. I curled my lip at the outrageous insult against Soprano, but knew that she insulted the Baroness in harsh terms often as well. Of course, my bodyguard had run her mouth into yet another challenge.
"Then let's make it an order," I replied flatly, "Best you learn to shoot now anyway. While our enemies can't shoot back." Well, not with anything more than an arrow, I thought to myself. Louise said nothing, though she did audibly choke down a complaint. She always did operate on the very edge of acceptability as a noble. Thank God, or else I'd be dead. She was a hill-noble, after all. Hill people are always troublesome.
Soprano demonstrated the firing mechanism of the firelance. A flash and a boom later, and she had sent the lead bullet off into the rock of the broken bridge over the river. A pinging echo returned to the satisfaction of my ear. The troops made a pleased ruckus too, whooping and jeering the doubters. That was encouraging. There had been some rumblings in the beginning that the firelances were too dangerous, but I had quickly dispelled such ideas by firing off three dozen rounds from one myself, way back when I first agreed to help Julie's movement.
"You will practice and practice with these until you can fire three shots every minute," Soprano warned, her voice firm, "Until then, you will keep your crossbows for fighting."
The new weapons were being issued to anyone who had previously used a crossbow, rather than to absolutely everyone. There were a couple of reasons for that, the largest being that we couldn't make ten thousand firelances all that easily. Even if we could, the enemies we could potentially face might very well bring enough numbers that it would be unwise to arm everyone like that. Most of all, crossbowmen generally filled out the same role as skirmishing firelancers, and could be drilled into the new way of fighting most easily.
Mike dismissed the troops, and they got up to return to their tents. Seeing my chance, I rode up on the two colonels. Mike, her mindset still somewhat stuck as a sergeant, finally took notice of Louise and I.
"ATTEN-TION!" she roared, the Orlesian tongue stretching the word out, "EN ORDRE SERRÉ!" Her people scrambled into the parade-ground ranks that had been battered into them since winter, and soon presented themselves in very fine order. Soprano smiled to herself, as Mike saluted me.
"At ease, Colonel," I said to Mike, "Dismiss your troops."
"Very well, my lord," she replied. She nodded to her own gunnery-sergeant, a huge human man with hands like shovels and a beard. Shovels began directing the soldiers around us, waving his appendages about as opposed to his commander's more verbal style. A quiet giant led by a bellowing woman that didn't even come up to his shoulder. The combination never fails to amuse me, even now.
"We were just showing off the new boomstick," Soprano explained, saluting.
"I heard," I said, shaking my head, "Julie just had to go and make them, didn't she?"
"First thing the Marquise started doing after you left, my lord," Mike said, "Have to agree with her. They're better than anything I've ever seen before."
I frowned, remembering my words as we saw the cannons tear into men close up for the first time. Julie was a genius, but she never would have created such works of death had I not allowed her to, given her the means to. It troubles me no longer, of course, but it certainly did back then.
"Marquis, if we might have a word with you?" Soprano started, before her eyes flickered to Louise, "Privately?"
"Where he goes, I go," Louise growled at her, "What's the point of a Vice-Regal Guard if I don't?"
The presumption was good, a bodyguard should be in the presence of their charge. That said, I coughed loudly to assert that I was the one who would be making that decision. I'm a big boy, packing big guns. No need to flinch.
"I trust these two," I said, consoling the chevalier's honour, "So can you."
Blondie bowed low in the saddle, to the extent that her horse copied the motion, two creatures of impeccable breeding in action. I had to restrain a laugh at the thought of both of them being thoroughbreds, made for war and breeding in turn. Perhaps a harsh way of looking at it, but the way nobles in other countries carry on, it's still a fairly accurate conception of such lineages. One that Louise herself was cured of, thank the Maker.
Lady de Villars rode off until she was just barely out of earshot, her real opinion well hidden by her mask. Yet, her hand remained on her sabre. She was clearly ready to ride into the fray if anything happened. Yet another insult to Soprano, though a more subtle one than simply calling her fellow Colonel a camp whore as she had to me. I shook my head, and turned to the two who remained.
"What do you want to talk about?" I said. I had become genuinely curious by now.
Soprano looked at Mike. Mike was the more audacious of the two, when it came to talking to me anyway. She had truly come into her own after being promoted to lead a regiment, less raw aggression and more situational awareness. I felt a little spark of pride at that.
"My lord, the world you came from... there were no elves, no Qunari..." Mike began, "You don't know why that was. Were there any other humans who lived on Earth that were... different to you?"
Entirely unsure why that was relevant, I scratched my chin. It wasn't a question I was well qualified to answer, as you will see. Even my historical studies were hopelessly off topic. Thoughts about that question had come to me before, in the hour before the Templar attack on Hearth, but I had kept them quiet. Mike and Soprano must have gotten a hold of a pre-history lesson, from Tam or Julie. However, they were asking just as they had become absolutely indispensable. I refused to give them anything less than my best reply.
"There are plenty of different people," I answered, "Earth is a big place, different peoples developed along different lines." Yet we were all from a valley on a continent called Africa, when you go back far enough. It is my great disappointment that we have not yet found the birthplace of the common ancestor here. Evidence points to the far north, but that's a hard place to go looking in. The Qunari moved for good reasons.
Both Colonels gave each other a glance, as if a suspicion of theirs had been confirmed. That set off alarms.
"Why do you want to know this?" I asked quickly, "Seems like a strange thing to ask about."
Mike dove right in. "You come from a world with humans alone," she replied, "Here, Fereldans might hate Orlesians, but both hate elves more. Maybe that is something you can't understand. Meaning no offence, my lord."
"At one time, we were afraid we would lose," Soprano added softly, "Another failed uprising like so many others, a worthy example. But now, we might win... or rather, you might win. The future of elves may depend on your choices."
Something clicked at last, the reason why they were having this little chat with me.
"You're wondering if I'll abandon you for victory or to keep the peace," I mused aloud, "Now that it looks like I may not need you to win. Probably doesn't help that I've been parading the chevaliers around triumphantly."
I thumbed over my shoulder to Blondie. "I understand why you didn't want her anywhere near this conversation," I added. Soprano smiled at that, providing me with a spark of hope.
This was a delicate matter. If I didn't say the right thing and mean it, I could be facing a mutiny of elves in my ranks. One that would be far too large to put down by force, if I could even bring myself to aim my weapons at such fine people. Sighing, I dismounted and tied Bellona up to a nearby post. I needed to say my piece closer to eye-level.
"You want assurances that you won't be discarded," I said.
"Assurances that we're fighting for us, not just you," replied Mike firmly, even though my words hadn't been a question, "You might not understand the hatred, not really, but you know what happened in these lands. We've been in chains ever since."
I nodded, and waved for the two to walk with me. We began to stroll towards the giant waterfalls. Where I hoped Louise or the pickets would be unable to overhear us.
"I'd like to tell you a story," I said, "One that not even Tam and Julie have heard." I moved to a tree, and sat down against it. The colonels took that as an invitation to do the same, and they sat down in the grass with me. I waited until they were comfortable.
"I'd like you to listen to it all, without interruption," I continued, "Is that acceptable?" It was going to be complicated. They both agreed.
"My own country had a civil war once, over the issue of slavery," I began.
"Your homeland had slavery?!" Mike immediately interrupted, "But..." Given that the formation of Julie's ideals were very much rooted in the ideas from Earth, and in particular my homeland, this was somewhat of a surprise. The Founding Fathers were hypocrites by necessity, like most politicians, but that didn't really stop them from having vision.
I eyed Mike coolly for stopping me.
"Yes, we did, about a hundred and fifty years ago," I stated, "More primitive people with a different skin colour were transported to the land to work plantations. There were no more serfs you see, and there was so much free land that trying to make people into serfs wouldn't have worked. Though the land wasn't exactly free either, we took that from yet another less advanced culture."
The two looked at me in confusion, and I realised that I was speaking in terms that were a little too general. I racked my mind for a similar comparison.
"Imagine if Orlais had killed most of the elves in the Dales instead of making you serfs. It would need people to work as cheaply as possible, right? Now imagine if it kidnapped people in Rivain, because they can't defend themselves, and brought them to the Dales to work the land. That's what happened in my homeland."
A great deal more comprehension settled on Mike's face, her lip curling with disgust. Soprano went a little red, most likely contemplating that such a fate would actually have been worse for the elves, never having thought on it too hard before. I couldn't really argue with that.
"The north of my country slowly but surely got rid of slavery for the first eighty years after independence from our former masters, but the south kept it as cotton became very profitable. My family on my father's side was from Virginia... in the South. My mother's side were rich northerners who dodged the fighting, as far as I know, but hundreds of thousands of people did fight, and with weapons not much different to the ones you've got now, and hundreds of thousands died. In the end, the North won and slavery was abolished forever."
I breathed in, because the next part was hard to recall aloud. It was embarrassing.
"My father's family didn't own any slaves but fought for the South anyway, because their home was being invaded. I knew all about it. The battles, the generals, the glory... The defeat. I'm not exactly a full-blooded southerner, even my accent is wrong, but I guess I tried to compensate. I didn't like the descendants of ex-slaves too much. I didn't think they were good Americans, that they'd wasted the chance bought by blood. My mother tried to talk me out of it, of course, but it didn't do much good. Imagine the opinions of a regular chevalier, and you're pretty close to how I thought about them."
Soprano and Mike were both enraptured now, eyes bolted towards me firmly. I rallied a little. I hoped their attention meant that they understood that this wasn't me, not anymore.
"Then I went off and joined the Army. The Army doesn't give a shit what colour you are and who your great-grand-daddy was, you're meat. Tossed my prejudices in the trash big time, especially once we got into the real bad firefights in a shithole called Afghanistan. The descendants of slaves saved my ass more times than I can count, and I saved their asses too. When Death came for us, we were all just Americans, and we sent the bitch packing full of lead."
I smiled at the memories of some of the shit I pulled back in the day, when I was a roaring, overconfident idiot. Unlike most, I broke down into someone who liked the job. Which probably says more about me than I'd like.
"The people we fought weren't like that. They treated their women like cattle, and they fought among themselves over the most basic ethnic shit you'll ever come across. No unity, just tribes who had killed each other from the dawn of time and will until Armageddon. We were better than them. There's no doubt about it. And we were better because we weren't like that."
"Like what?" asked Mike.
"My point is that a country is stronger when it uses all the talent it has available, and talent isn't where you'd always expect to find it," I replied, "I was fucking stupid to think how I did, and thinking like that weakened my country. It's weakened Orlais too. Look at you guys. You're both better than most nobles at leading people into a fight, and you're both elves. There is no going back to the old way, not any more. You've already proven that you're as good as anyone else, and that some of you may be better than most."
Fatigued from the travelling of the day, I stood up and stretched my arms into the air to loosen the joints. "There's no way I could ever drag you back down, even if I wanted to," I said, "I need you, the country needs you. You've already won, as long as you make sure everyone knows it. They might hate you now, but they might come to admire you later."
The conversation was over.
I left them sitting in the grass with a lot to think about, and walked back to Bellona. Louise rode up beside, her hand finally removed from her weapon. By the time I was in the saddle again, Soprano and Mike were still sitting, talking to each other. I hoped I had made my point clearly. Personal stories often hit hard when you're trying to make a point, I find. Wish I had caught onto that idea earlier.
"What was that all about?" Louise asked, mask staring at me, "What did the elves want?"
"The end of the days when you can say things like that just because," I smiled back, wagging my finger, "The winds of change are blowin' a hurricane."
Louise was silent the whole way back to my own tent, where we found Julie and Tam waiting.
The next set of people who came to see me, worried for the future now that we had shown some discernible success, never could have come to me as one group before.
Julie proposed that we go to the hot springs, seeing as I had arrived in the morning and could use a soak. Well, she said I stunk to high hell and needed a wash, but regardless, I had no choice in the matter. Tam had the towels from Earth over her shoulders, showing her own enthusiasm for the idea. Her bathing style was great motivation for me to tag along, all the more so that Julie had taken it up too. So, as I hadn't been intimate for a good while and without my tongue hanging out of my head too much I hope, I agreed.
Yes, I am a dog.
Louise de Villars excused herself, her duties unnecessary now that I was in the presence of Tam. She was generally uncomfortable around our Qunari lover, and I never discovered why, but she most definitely wouldn't have joined us regardless. I thanked her for her understanding earlier, before we left.
The three of us wandered through the camp towards the bridge to the 'Pools of the Sun', where waiting for us were Armen, his usual spotless robes reflecting much of the sunlight around, Barris in his plate armour, and Mother Brandon in her silly hat and long Chantry dress.
Or rather, Grand-Cleric Brandon in her silly hat. Word had come from Val Royeaux with suspect haste that she had been promoted to higher office, informing us that she was responsible for 'the spiritual order of that part of the Dales calling itself Free Orlais'. That part not quite having defined its own borders yet.
The Nightingale's manoeuvres, or perhaps the Divine's own, were well-crafted and insidious. It gave us influence, but influence that was tied to the Chantry, the old order. Power with which we could consolidate our gains, but not what we could have used for more... revolutionary purposes. Or so it appeared Leliana and Justinia believed. Brandon was eagerly spreading zeal for our cause through the Chantry, and our ideals were spreading like wildfire in areas under her authority. Revered Mothers whom opposed Free Orlaisor our war were being transferred or retired, replaced by those who supported it, or at the very least those who would not oppose it as a secular political movement.
Needless to say, my opinion of the Revered Mother had risen in weeks leading up to this meeting.
"Your Grace," I said, after pausing to remember what the proper term of address was, "To what do I owe the pleasure."
"Viceroy, Marquise... Lady Tam," said Brandon, careful to maintain an equally respectful tone to all three of us, "I hoped to speak to you about the role of the Templars, now that we've won."
Taken aback by her optimism, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Now that we've won?" I asked, "The war isn't over yet. What is this about?"
"It seems the Grand-Cleric doesn't want the Templars under my command," Armen smiled, "I wonder why." It would help if you weren't a sarcastic bastard, I thought at him, transmitting the notion by a glare. He got the idea.
"Templars are the soldiers of the Chantry," said Barris, "The Grand-Cleric feels that the realm is overstepping its bounds... though I am comfortable serving under mage command, as long as our role to protect against the Fade isn't undermined."
"Your trust in these mages is commendable, Knight-Commander, but that's precisely my point," replied Brandon, before turning to me, "The Chantry is best equipped to deal with threats of this nature, not the Empire. Best leave it to us."
This was a talk I would have preferred to have happened after we had actually won. We needed the Templars under my direct command, simply because the loyalist mages would undoubtedly show themselves in future to back their noble allies. With all that in mind, I opened my mouth to speak.
"Not going to happen," Julie interrupted cheerfully, "The Templars are soldiers, soldiers aren't clerics. Soldiers are the realm's business, no matter who or what they're fighting." I had no clue why she would object so strongly. I gave her a look, to see if she would explain. She put up her finger, asking me to wait.
"The Templars guarded the Circles independently for centuries," Mother Brandon replied, "They are more than soldiers, they're to defend us against the tide of evil, the swords of the Maker."
"The Maker might want to get himself some new weapons," Tam smirked, leaning over the much smaller priestess, "Swords are fast becoming obsolete."
"Being that is true, I don't see why you would need them either," Brandon continued, swatting at Tam to move away, "The Templars cannot adapt to your new way of war so easily." A pointed look at me came after that. Perhaps she was trying to reassure me that she was no threat even with soldiers under her command, because of the advances we had made. It wasn't that simple.
"Your Grace, the Chantry has been corrupted through its involvement in lowly, worldly affairs. You've said so many times," Julie said firmly, "Isn't that right?"
Probably more than a thousand times, if the few number of sermons I had heard from her after chants were any indication. I doubted her elevation had made her any less circumspect then, and in fact, it encouraged her.
"Yes, Marquise, you are correct," Brandon replied with a whisper of a smile, "I have been saying so since you were fifteen years old, I'm glad that my words have remained with you even now." Julie smiled back. I suppressed a groan, understanding then where the revolutionary zeal had come from.
"If the Chantry has soldiers, it will be drawn into the political affairs of mortals, and it will never be free of corruption," Julie continued, "Leave fighting evil to Sam. The Maker sent him to do just that."
I frowned a little, not particularly pleased that Julie was drawing on that to make her point. I doubt the cleric would have maintained her belief in me if she knew that Tevinter blood magic was involved in bringing people to Thedas, even if God works in mysterious ways.
Brandon nodded into her palm, rubbing her chin as she thought about what had been said. "So, what do you propose?" she said at last, "The Chantry must be able to defend itself."
I saw my chance.
"Any attack against the Chantry will be my responsibility to stop, " I said firmly, "Everyone must be safe to go about their usual business, including the clergy. That's part of the whole point of why we are doing what we are."
"I'm sure the Knight-Commander and I would be happy to help," Armen said, half-truthfully, "If it came to it."
The Revered Mother bent her back, and looked up at the sky for a moment with a sigh.
"You really are tediously energetic," she said at last, "Very well, as long as I am not silenced in affairs of the Maker, I can live with such an arrangement."
"Freedom of expression is a core principle of our movement," Armen said. The Grand-Cleric gave a guffaw, muttering about promoting heresies.
Julie took my hand and pulled me away, bowing as she moved but brooking no further discussion on the matter. It was bath time. We left Armen to handle the bickering, his face turned sullen as he realised it. Barris flashed a quick smirk as he watched the mage be lectured by Brandon. I returned it, and nodded my respect to the Templar.
We made our way to the colossal baths in good spirits, feeling we had dodged a bullet.
The three giant hotsprings had been divided up.
Two for the commoners and one for the nobles. The smallest for the nobles. A system instituted by those nobles who had stayed behind even after I had dismissed their forces. Hangers-on wanting advancement in other words. Julie had been too busy with getting the home front in order to stop them entirely, but had at least made it clear that racial segregation was off the cards. NCOs and above were allowed into the noble baths, human or otherwise, but when we arrived, the place was empty.
Seems like our officers preferred to bathe with the people. Only reason we didn't was essentially down to our reputations. We were celebrities. The Peacekeeper, the Liberator, the Qunari Teacher. Privacy would have been hard to find among the off-duty soldiers, and we wanted it at that moment.
We climbed the long ramp around the pool and settled into the warm water in the mid-afternoon sun. I sat in rolled up military fatigues and no shirt, sunglasses on and a flask of some of Leha's good stuff in-hand. Julie more or less followed suit, leaning back with her feet in the watter, scribbling away casually with a pencil and a stack of paper. Tam wore nothing and sunned herself, preferring the warmth soak in.
To my complete lack of surprise, most of the nobles followed Tam's lead, given that there were no commoners around and modesty wasn't Orlesian in the slightest. I had to spend most of my time looking up at the sky or at Tam or Julie. The women weren't the only ones in the nude. I probably would have paid more heed to the looks tossed our way. Mostly Tam's way, I had to admit. I was just glad to be sitting still and not on a horse.
So it went for an hour or so.
Slowly, the bath filled up with more and more children of all things, noble kids and the children of servants they had befriended if I was any judge. There were no adult elves, but a number of elven children. Noble ladies often encouraged such friendships, so that their children would have reliable commoners to depend upon in the Game later in life. Or so Armen informed me once, having had a similar experience in his own childhood.
Julie cursed to herself, catching my attention for something other than my own admiration for her.
"What are you up to?" I asked casually, "You've been writing for a while now. Anything interesting?"
Julie flashed her smile at me, and held up what she had been working on. It was a very accurate drawing of myself, fully uniformed and pointing out from the page at the viewer. Underneath, it said "Uncle Sam Wants You for the Free Army." In Orlesian, no less.
I narrowed my eyes at my lover.
"Really," I said flatly, "Couldn't come up with something original then?"
"If it can work on Earth, it can work on Thedas," Julie insisted, "Besides, it's not for soldiers only, it's for the corvée too. Roads, factories, smithing, supplies, that sort of thing." She blew a fatigued breath out through her lips.
"You're organising that already too?" I asked.
"Of course she is," said Tam, "She wouldn't let herself rest while you were out there fighting." Not that Tam had either, seeing as she had supervised the political education of the people of Sahrnia as well as breaking in the new noble recruits sent to us from the Emerald Graves.
"I still think it's a good idea," Julie declared, "It's not like I made you look ugly."
I grunted my agreement with that. At the very least, it was a good likeness, not overcompensated by ignoring the dent in the bridge of my nose. It was just... accurate. Julie probably drew it entirely from memory. I felt very average when I was with Julie and Tam sometimes, albeit drawn to them in awe of their personalities.
"That's a good drawing," came a confident and youthful voice from behind me, "Can you draw me too?"
Surprised by the interruption, I turned back to face the pool, and found two children directly beside me. A boy and a girl, the former older than the latter, both dressed in red jumpsuits. They were nobles, clearly. The boy was the one who had spoken, his hands on his hips. I searched my mind for a moment, but eventually I drew a blank on who they were.
"Of course!" Julie replied, "It would be my pleasure."
"Draw me as a chevalier," the boy demanded, "My sister too."
The sister nodded rapidly, smiling at the very notion of being a dashing knight. The innocence of children almost seems exacerbated when they are noble.
"Like your father?" Julie said, "Of course I can draw you like that."
And it clicked. I had met these kids before, just never without their masks on. They were Antoine and Océane des Arbes. Pierre and Cécile's children. I noticed the grey eyes they shared with their father, confirming the fact in absolute terms. That they knew Julie shouldn't have been a surprise, yet I felt a strong jealousy clutch my chest like a vice regardless. Petty of me, I know.
"Good," replied the boy firmly, sitting down to be sketched.
"Thank you," the girl added, standing beside her brother, "Make sure you put flowers on my shield."
Julie nodded, taking a fresh page from her pack. Tam and I exchanged glances, but without anything to do, we went back to what we were doing with a shared shrug. The splashing sounds of others moving about the bath were augmented with humming and the scratching of lead on paper, as our lover drew the kids. Antoine stayed bolt still for most of it, reckoning that he was easier to draw that way, but Océane kept glancing at me and fidgeting. She was looking at my back specifically, most likely because of the tattoos. I turned my back towards her, so she could see a little better and I wouldn't be able to see her. I think she stopped fidgeting.
The father soon made an appearance. He was thankfully outfitted in a similar red jumpsuit to his children, albeit rolled down to the waist and up past the thighs. That was as much of him as I could have seen without snapping, I think. He was more … soft than I was, but not by much. Then again, he didn't do the exercise that I did, even he did have the diet.
"Ah, children, this is where you have gotten to," said the Baron, "Visiting the Marquis and Marquise." Ignoring Tam as best he could, which was wisdom on his part.
"Getting a picture," Antoine replied, pointing at Julie, "She drew him and now she's drawing us."
"I'm a chevalier," chirped Océane, "Just like he is!"
"Ah ha, I see," said the Baron with a smirk, "As long as Julie does not mind..."
"Not at all," Julie replied, "I need a break from the work."
The Baron couldn't help but take that as a cue, to my annoyance. Still, I couldn't tell him to piss off without insulting Julie's intelligence, and I wasn't capable of doing it diplomatically enough to avoid upsetting the children. I bit my tongue and listened instead.
"Yes, how is that going?" he asked, "I hear you are recruiting all over now, work orders sent out..."
"Everything is going according to plan," Julie replied softly.
"So it appears," said the Baron, wading closer, "But according to whose plan?"
Julie stopped drawing for a brief moment. "What do you mean?"
The Baron stared at her. "The days where you three can make decisions for everyone are coming to an end," he said, "Especially since you are now raising the commons in their lands."
I jumped up. "Is that a threat?" I asked in jest, "And we were just beginning to get along."
"It's a warning," the Baron replied, not even looking at me, "From a friend. Julie, you yourself warn of the dangers of absolute power. Some arrangement must be made for the permanent new order here." The bastard was right about that, and I couldn't help but relax.
"There's no need to fret, dear Baron," Tam said from the side, "She has already been making arrangements." I cocked an eyebrow towards Julie, as if to ask if that was true.
"Since winter began to let up," Julie confirmed, "I was to send the messages to the nobles once we returned to Hearth, but since you are so insistent..."
"Messages for what?" the Baron asked.
"A grand ball and convention, to be held in Hearth. The commoners have been choosing their representatives since the beginning of spring," said Julie, continuing to draw, "Together, we will decide what shape the future will take."
I had suspected that was the case, but knowing that politics was best left to Julie and Armen, I hadn't pried too much. No need for a new set of disagreements like those over the weapons, particularly when I wasn't the expert this time.
Hearing the plan spoken openly was entirely a different thing. The hairs on my neck stood briefly on end. It was risky. Incredibly risky. It was effectively declaring independence, without saying as much. Yet, it was the only way. Otherwise, we'd be fighting Baroness Doucy and Baron Clouet very quickly, neither of whom wanted to trade one absolute monarch for another dressed up as a viceroy. The risk of annoying the Empress or provoking Gaspard by holding the convention was trumped by the risk of either or both of them joining forces with disgruntled nobles. The Chantry would have no choice but to condemn us at that point too.
That wasn't even the worst case scenario. We couldn't yet dream of the worst case scenario, not yet.
The Baron's eyes widened, before narrowing in what I can only describe as glee. He was realising the glittering opportunity Julie's plan represented for his family, as far as I can tell from his actions in the coming weeks. At the time, it looked like he accepted it happily and little else, of course.
Julie showed the finished product to Antoine and Océane, a picture of them standing together in plate armour, swords in their hands. Océane even got her flower-etched shield, as promised. She called her father over and waved the picture.
Pierre des Arbes picked his daughter up.
"Well, you appear to have thought of everything," he said, with a wave of his hand, "We can speak later."
The Baron wandered off and his son followed, the kids waving goodbye to us. They were good kids. They knew not to interrupt the adults. Julie and Tam waved back at them.
Feeling the exhaustion of the campaign acutely now, I lay on my back and used my hands as a pillow, closing my eyes. I felt like the sun was stripping me of the fatigue, though my mind continued to tick over.
"That's the third set now. Mike and Soprano came at me earlier about whether or not I was going to throw elves under the bus for the victory," I said, ignoring my lovers' lack of understanding of the idiom, "People asking about the future, and what we're going to do for them..."
"There'll be more of them before this is over," Julie said, retrieving yet another piece of paper, "Stoke people's hopes, and eventually they'll want to know just how far you're willing to go." Indeed there would be. Far more.
"Or whether or not you'll protect them from the rising tide," Tam added, "The nobles have a lot to lose." She rolled onto her stomach, paying full attention to us now.
"And a lot to gain, if they stay in line," Julie replied grimly.
"I guess we're going to find out," I said, "Though it does raise another question. One I don't think we've thought about."
"What's that?" Julie asked.
"What is our future going to look like?" I asked, "Everyone else seems to think we have won already, do we dare to make plans?"
We remained silent for a few minutes, contemplating just that question. Once, when we weren't aware of the truth, we dreamed of returning to Earth. I would show Julie and Tam the wonders of Earth, they would escape the tyranny and primitivism of Thedas, and we'd live happily ever after. That dream was long dead. Its replacement, using the embers I had brought from home to create a new light there in Orlais, was great in theory. It was just... impersonal.
"Freedom comes first," said Julie at last, "But we've built something here, something all the chevaliers of the Grand-Duke and Empress might not be able to destroy. I think we can start thinking about ourselves, just a little."
"Okay then," I said in a challenging tone, "What do you want to do, once it's all over? Neither of you say 'make a great big pile of gold', that's Leha's dream."
"Can I say 'destroy our enemies'?" Julie joked.
"No," I replied, "If we have to do that, then it isn't over, is it?"
Julie pondered for a moment, before spotting something in the sky. I craned my neck to see, and saw what she was looking at.
"I want to fly," Julie said at last, with fond eyes on what she was watching before adding, "With a machine I design myself."
I laughed and gave her nearby leg a kiss. A noble goal, one very worthy of Julie's talents, and one with glorious consequences. Given her excitement at seeing the helicopter all those months ago, I was hardly surprised. The things above us at that moment were eagles, of course. The same eagles that had perched themselves on her warhammer during battle. The damned things would follow us everywhere from Sahrnia onwards, through the best and worst days.
"What about you Tam?" I asked, "I wish I could have got you out of reach of the Qun, but that seems impossible now. Unless you want to go explore the West or something." Which is exceedingly hard to do, by the way.
The Qunari shook her head. "It was not to be," she said, "You have taught me that the Qun can be defeated, both in spirit and in body, if good people come together. And you are two of the best. I'm not afraid of the Qun any more, and I have you two to thank for it."
I tilted my head in half-agreement, not quite sure our little kingdom matched up to one of Thedas' superpowers, even if we had foiled one of their plots. "So what will you do when this war is over?" I asked, opening up my flask for a swig.
"I have worked since I was twelve years old for one purpose; to serve everyone else," said Tam, "So, I think I shall concentrate on my own happiness." Greatly approving of such an idea, I raised my flask in salute.
"Good girl," I said, "Exactly what I'd do, if I was any good at that. What's your plan exactly?" I began drinking, awaiting the answer.
"I think I'll have some children," Tam replied. Coughing and spluttering, I sat up again sharply, nearly drowning in Leha's fine batch of apple vodka.
What a thing to say! Some of my wits returned, allowing me to look over at Tam. I found her eyeing me speculatively, her head resting on her hands. Violet irises locked onto me like a god damn heat-seeker. What a sight! I felt dazed, as if I had been punched or as if I had been at the hooch for a lot longer than I had been.
"That doesn't sound like you're concentrating on your own happiness at all!" I complained, pointing at her shakily. That was quite unfair of me, admittedly.
"We are not allowed families in the Qun, remember?" said Tam in return, "I have seen the happiness that it brings in others. At the end of every day I teach the children. I want that. I will have that."
I was speechless. It's not like I could have told her to go find someone else. I was in too deep for that. Seeing her with someone else would have broken my heart. I'm pretty greedy, I guess. So, my thoughts wandered to a scene of Tam holding our child. It was strangely serene and terrifying at the same time.
Julie, the rascal, did not make things any better. "You probably won't have to wait until the war is over for that anyway," she shrugged, "We're down to one of those things anyway." Carefully screening her own feelings on the matter, one will note. She rummaged around her bag, and pulled out the last of the unopened plastic wrappers. I kneaded my palm. The days of not worrying about that sort of thing had come to an end at a really inconvenient time.
I coughed again, clearing the last of the drink out of my throat. "There are other things, right?" I asked, overly politely.
"There are teas, and mages can do something if you're further along," Julie confirmed, "But they're both more dangerous." I cursed under my breath, and lay on my back again. Nothing I could do about it. Well, other than saying fuck it and ignoring the consequences, but the consequences were lifelong. Even if they had the potential to be massively positive. Honestly, in retrospect, I shouldn't have been so worried.
The relevance of all this would be become very apparent when the winter came. Thankfully not to me personally. No, that would come a few years later. At an equally inopportune time, with surprising consequences. Tiberius didn't have the full story, apparently.
"What about you, Sam?" Tam asked softly, "What will you do when this is over?"
"Other than die of a heart attack, you mean?!" I asked sarcastically. Both Tam and Julie had a good giggle at my expense, giving me a little time to think about an actual answer.
"I'll continue to be a soldier," I replied, "I tried to be a civilian once. I fucking sucked at it." Well, that's not strictly true. I enjoyed college, but I wasn't an academic either. Not back then, anyway. I just found a regular job so mind numbing that I had to find the first ticket back to soldiering I could. Being in the US Army Reserve, I put myself in for duty again soon after. Just as the UN decided the situation in the Middle East had to be resolved. Could've become a merc.
"I've got the taste for fighting now, can't shake it off," I continued, "Like it too much to stop."
Tam slid down the steps and took my head onto her lap. Shading my face with a wave of long blonde hair. "You're more than that," she said with complete certainty.
"We'll see," I replied, very much doubting her.
It would be many, many years before I was anything else, but she was right, in the end.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, we hit the 200 favourites, 250 followers mark just yesterday. Very pleased to say the least, so I thought I'd get a release out for this despite my concentration on BF2183. As always, there will be a rolling edit for mistakes on it later.
Five more chapters in this "Revolution" volume left, then we're onto Ferelden. This chapter sets them all up, as well as a few for the next volume and even one or two for future volumes.
Minor spoiler alert: Ciara's a big part of the next chapter, in case you were wondering where she was in this one.
5 Coloured Walker: I'm tempted to ask you to beta for me, if I wasn't rather distrustful of that entire process out of simple unfamiliarity. You're a wonderful reviewer, I'm always glad to hear from you.
Drgyen: Expect to see more gunpowder action, to say the least.
Tiberius wasn't giving away all the secrets, merely promoting Sam's cause. Remember, he believes that Julie and Armen's revolution will fail, and all the help he gives Sam will simply prove the point that little bit more. The aim is to utterly crush any notion that they have a choice other than to come to Tevinter. That means giving Sam the best chance at winning possible, betting that a defeat is inevitable.
For future reference, the Inquisitor is a female rogue Trevelyan, Hawke is a female warrior (think Bravosi from GoT), and the Warden is the aforementioned Aedan Cousland mage (sort of a crossover between the mage and noble human origins).
Nothing wrong with being a die hard union worker, but there is something wrong with rehabilitating Cromwell in my eyes. But as my name probably suggests, I'm biased in that regard.
Max22193: Cheers!
In Defilade: It doesn't go all their way at all. Flint is an interesting person, though I'm finding that a good part of the books are history or pseudohistory dumps. Might just be the anthologies.
Tactus501st: High praise indeed!
Isaac Smalls: It'll be a while yet before we get to the conclave, though the lead up to Inquisition will start before then. And yep, tantalising was the objective. I've even set up the next story for when they get around to the next DA game, which is supposed to be set in the Tevinter Imperium, if the last bit of Trespasser was any indicator.
With regards to the lore, I couldn't remember the name of the damned river for the life of me, it was driving me crazy, so I just rolled with the name of the peak. Though I like your retcon idea, and it fits very well with the next chapter, so it'll go in.
As for Leha's nightmares, I wrote that part, remembered that dwarves didn't dream, went back and edited in a remark about her appearance being sleepless. That is a dwarven nightmare to my mind; being tortured by your thoughts so you can't sleep. I could have edited the whole part into something different, but the scene wasn't really the place to get technical about dwarva and the Fade, at least in my opinion.
All rambling is appreciated.
Guest: It's still a pretty small army, though as this chapter implies, the number of soldiers with firelances is going to go through the roof. Expect to see plenty more of it.
Jarjaxle: Welcome back to the party. Looks like you've blown one of my Chekhov's guns.
Yes, Leha is the female dwarf inquisitor. Or would have been. Evidently she won't be from now on.
I would complain that it's not a harem start, but it's sorta going that way. More of a deconstruction, I hope, than one played straight.
You're entirely right in saying that Par Vollen are not going to let this fly, though the Chantry don't exactly have the cajones to take the tech off Sam & Co just yet. As this chapter shows, they're playing a different game to get what they want.
Freemen of the Dales will be involved actually, but no, Julie will not be the leader of the Freemen.
Suna Chunin: Glad you liked the battle scene. I was actually a little worried about it after I wrote it.