Chapter Ninety-Three: Skyhold
Our ascent to the fortress of Skyhold itself was delayed.
I sent a report back to Velarana, as was the proper thing to do. A written order to return our siege artillery to Troy and to wait came back immediately, apparently the Chancellor having been present in the Crossroads herself at the time my runner had went through.
Having moved an eluvian to the entrance of the elevator, I followed the command begrudgingly, not wanting to freeze my ass off in a mountain pass nor wanting to give the Inquisition the impression that we were not prepared to attack if required.
Or those are the things I used to justify my outward annoyance to myself. Truthfully, I just wanted to sit down for a drink with Barris and Dorian, to catch up while the politicians politicked.
It took an hour for what I was ordered to wait for to arrive; namely a full delegation, led by none other than Maya Tiberia, Chairperson of the Assembly.
She came forth dressed in high Orlesian style, in a blue and white dress with a red half-mask. Around her shoulders, she was draped with long black furs more akin to those Aurelia herself preferred, but her long pointed ears were visible and prominent, deliberately so. On top of all that, she was escorted by a platoon of Marines, not in ceremonial gear but looking ready to fight off an army of bears.
Which would have been impressive enough, but she wasn't done yet.
The second Maya Tiberia stepped out of the eluvian, she brought fingers to her lips and blew out a harsh, long whistle from her mouth. She raised an arm, revealing it to be covered in leather padding. Seconds later, the sound of flapping came from above, announcing the arrival of the black eagle. It swooped down and landed gracefully on the wrist.
The bird cried happily, as it was offered a hunk of meat, proceeding to gobble it up quickly. Maya said something in Tevene to it, in a soothing tone of voice, stroking its chest feathers as it finished eating. The Marines around her looked on with some interest; seeing an elf-falconer was not usual in their experience, that sort of thing was for high nobles where they came from.
"Well, hopefully the Herald will find that suitably impressive," Valle remarked from beside me, "Though I do wonder why our glorious Chancellor sent her."
"To keep an eye on you, Minister," Maya said, in perfect Orlesian, "We both know how carried away you can get." In fact, she spent a lot of her time questioning the competence of the cabinet that Velarana had chosen ever since she had entered the Assembly, though she was careful to keep it civil.
Valle rolled his eyes and turned to me again. "So inconsiderate of her, to have hearing that good, and such a firm understanding of Orlesian too," he said, "Hopefully your presence will keep her in check."
That sounded like the last thing I wanted to be responsible for. "Oh no, that's not my job," I said flatly, "Think about it, does it sound like something an Emperor would do?" I took no small amount of pleasure in turning that bullshit against him.
Surprised I would play that card, Valle's brow rose. "Touché," he said before turning back to Maya, "I don't suppose we could get on with it now? I'm sure Knight-Commander Barris is very worried."
The leader of the opposition gazed at him for a second, seeming to contemplate whether or not she cared about a Templar's opinion. "If you insist," she said at last, "I suppose there's nothing more to do here." Which was an understatement.
With that, we wandered into the cave which served as the access point to the elevator. It was artificial and wide enough to accommodate a large number of people waiting to go up. A bored looking young man sat on the elevator platform itself, which was big enough for a large four wheeled cart to be taken up. To either side of the platform were what I would describe as giant bicycle chains, which brought the thing up and down.
"Great, a death trap," I muttered in Common, not trusting the engineering of the thing at all.
"That's what I thought," the young man replied, as we all stepped onto the elevator, "Works fine though."
Without waiting for our reply, he pulled on a long cord and from the shaft above, a bell chimed. A second later, the whole platform lurched upwards, sending us stumbling. The elevator operator smirked at us, before withering under my glare and looking extremely interested in the chains that were now moving and the counterweights descending nearby. The guy had been right about one thing though, once it got going, the whole system was remarkably smooth.
"Tell me, Madame Tiberia," Valle said, "Where did you get those clothes? Very fine, I don't think the Inquisition will believe you were a slave less than a year ago."
I listened, but did not intervene.
"The Empress, she thought it appropriate that all of those on the negotiation team be dressed appropriately," Maya replied, "And I was never a slave. Not truly."
Tam, having taken responsibility for the ship of state, was not one to tolerate our diplomats to be judged on the quality of their clothing. To the outside world, the Republic would forever more project nothing but strength and prosperity, if she could help it. And she could.
"I seem to recall you wearing a bronze plaque around your neck in Amaranthine," Valle countered, "With the name of your master on it."
"Then you do not understand how Tevinter works," Maya replied, not insulted at all, "You are right in that I was legally a slave, but I was never subjected to anything like the horror stories your southern propaganda loves to talk about. The name 'Aurelia Tiberia' in bronze around my neck gave me more freedom than almost any other soporati."
"Are you saying you regret being freed?" I said, "Somehow I doubt the field slaves would agree with you."
"The Tiberian estates did not kill, hurt or overwork anyone," Maya said matter-of-factly, "But you are right. Things are better now for everyone. I can't understand it, but I feel... better. My relationship with your lady wife has improved, even. All of us have more dignity."
That was something I could certainly understand.
"Is that why you're in charge of the Impera?" Valle asked, "Your relationship with the Tiberians?" It was certainly unusual to many of us, particularly those radical Libertarians in the ranks, as to why Maya and so many of the Tiberian ex-slaves would be happy to support the political agenda of their former masters.
A laugh bubbled out of Maya, leading to chuckled Tevene that I didn't catch enough of to get translated even if I had wanted to. "No, Monsieur Valle, that is not why I lead the Impera," she said, "I lead it because you all have a misconception that the opposite is slavery is freedom. It isn't."
She turned on the spot to face me. "The opposite of slavery is power," she said, "A lesson we learned from you, General."
Fateful words from one who would be our High Chancellor.
Barris and a contingent of Templars were waiting at the gate under the middle tower when we stepped off the elevator platform, all of them in full steel plate armour. They looked rather rough, the armour and their tabards with the Templar sword icon were dirty. That did not mean they would not be a formidable adversary if they got in close.
The Marines behind me began whispering to each other and cocking the flints of their firelances. Clearly they were thinking the same thing as I was about the Templars
"Order in the ranks!" I shouted back over my shoulder, "Look smart, god damn it!"
I wasn't technically in charge of them any more, as Soprano now held the position of Chief of the High Command, but they hopped to anyhow. The lieutenant, one of Paulie Walnuts' cousins if I remember right, started shoving them into something resembling a double column, allowing Valle, Maya and myself to take up the middle.
"Let's go greet them, shall we?" Valle said, stepping out onto the first bridge between the elevator tower and the one under which Barris waited. I went after him, flicking the safety off my firelance but following along casually. Maya Tiberia kept up with me, though the Marines and the rest of the civilian delegation did not.
"Sorry we're late," I called to Barris as we got close, "We had orders to bring more people along, took a while to get them together."
"We thought that might happen," the Knight-Commander replied, noticing the newcomer, "Who is this?"
"Maya Tiberia, Chairperson of the National Assembly," I said, before clarifying, "She's here as Minister Valle's second."
"To observe in the name of the elected representatives," Maya added, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Templar." She extended her hand, not to shake, but palm down. I was confused.
Barris was not, and to his credit, he did not hesitate either at the large eagle on her other arm, even when it cawed at him a little, or the fact she was an elf. He kissed her hand with all due propriety and smiled at her on the return. "Welcome the Skyhold, my lady," he said, "The Inquisitor awaits." Could've sworn that Maya blushed a little at that, though it could've been the very cold breeze blowing about.
I didn't know who the hell he was referring to, but I didn't like the sound of that.
We followed Barris and his Templar platoon through the middle tower and the main gate, the wind buffeting us until we made it behind the walls, at which time we were buffeted by something else entirely. Crowds of people stood everywhere, staring at us in silence. Civilians of all races, Chantry sisters and brothers, Templars in robes, the occasional mage; all of them worse for wear, with a hungry look on their eyes.
I tried to ignore it, taking in the structures instead. They were quite run down too, but nothing our Logistics Corps couldn't sort out in a week, save for a bridge collapse between the main keep and the outer wall. The fortress was larger than it looked too, being the size of a small town by Thedosian standards. Tents and braziers filled the lower courtyard between the crowds. We'd have to supply them with housing too, I thought to myself, not knowing that Skyhold has an … unusual weather climate.
Not the only unusual thing about the place.
"Why are they staring at you?" Maya asked quietly, as we made our way under the archway that supported the stairs to the reception hall, "Is it because you were an enemy of the Herald?"
I glanced back and found most eyes were indeed directly at me. A shiver ran down my spine.
"That's not the reason," Valle replied, "I'll explain later."
We wound our way through the upper courtyard, where the Templar contingent was standing at parade attention in formation. I gave them the greeting of a salute, and about half returned the gesture by giving the close-fisted, across the chest salute favoured by Orlesian chevaliers. It seemed weird to me, until I remembered they were as much a knightly order as the chevaliers were. Naturally, those who hadn't moved were disapproving of Trojan politics.
Our escort of Templars save for Barris himself remained behind as we ascended the stairs, we finally came to the doors of the hall, huge things that looked like they could've resisted a cannon hit. They were firmly shut, and in front of them stood Dorian, playing with his moustache and looking pleased with himself.
"Well, it took you long enough!" he complained, faking outrage, "I was almost burned by a crazed Venatorus getting out of Haven, and then froze my arse half off trying to escape his friends. A little help would have been nice." He faked a pout, though winked at us to know that he was joking... or that he forgave us, at least.
Grinning like a fool, I gave the big idiot a single-armed hug around the neck. "Oh yeah?" I replied, "I missed you too. We were worried and we're sorry we missed the opening, but we're here for the main dance now."
"Fashionably late is still late," he insisted, turning his eyes to the civvies, "But woe unto the demons, I suppose. Who do we have here?"
"Two politicians," I said, forestalling the formal introductions given that we were about to give them again in the hall, "Any particular reason the doors are shut?"
"The Inner Circle requires certain assurances," Barris said in Common, "Although we will permit you to carry weapons, your military escort must remain outside. Some concern has been expressed that you will attempt to take the Inquisitor hostage."
Truth be told, the idea had been considered... but not after our little trips through time and dimensions. No, after that experience, we were resolved; the mortal world must be united. The course of the war would sorely test that principle, even cause us to break it badly on occasion, but the Herald stood at the centre of affairs. We needed to work with her.
"Done," I said, before Valle could make any objection, "We're not here to beat about the bush. We're seeking a true alliance. No doubt Dorian here has told you about what we saw."
Barris' face tightened. "A dark future," he said, "Only myself and the Inner Circle know of it."
"I'm not stupid enough to go around shouting about the end of the world," Dorian added, "Especially after what happened at Haven."
"You can fill us in on the details later," I said, "But we should not keep them waiting." I nodded at the doors, and then signalled for the Marines to stay put, which they did.
"Indeed," Barris agreed, before pushing on both doors. I didn't think the man could move such large doors, but they opened very quickly as people inside pulled them too.
The main hall was huge, a true place for a banquet or for holding court. The tattered remains of Fereldan banners hung alongside fresh ones of the Inquisition, the Chantry, and ominously, the Terynir of Ostwick. The roof was missing slats in places, covered up only with some canvas, but there were fireplaces the length of the room, all of them blazing to make up the difference in heat.
To either side of the central aisle were troops of the Inquisition and what must've been the great-and-good who supported the cause. The further we went along, the richer and more Orlesian these nobles seemed to be.
By the time we reached the back third of the room, almost all of them were wearing full masks. I even recognised some of the designs, they were nobles from the Dales, though none of the ones that had supported our revolution. They muttered and mumbled furiously to themselves as we passed, about any number of our features. The word lapin was common, clearly Maya making waves with her very existence. My trigger finger itched.
At the end of the room was a raised dais, backed by stained glass windows and torches, where the throne sat. It was a richly upholstered chair, its back rising high over its occupant's head with the Inquisition's Eye inlaid into the leather, and swords spreading like a fan from behind it.
From that seat, the stern green eyes of Evelyn Trevelyan stared down at me. She was dressed better than I remembered; a doublet of rich blue silk on her torso, with grey hunting trousers and what appeared to be some sort of reptilian skin boots up to her knees. I would later learn they were dragonskin, from a dragon she had killed herself.
As if we weren't getting enough evil looks, her entire entourage stood around her.
Nightingale and Rutherford were directly to either side. Dressed for battle, Pentaghast, Rainer, Tethras and the Iron Bull were arranged diagonally from the throne, ready to put themselves between us and Trevelyan but allowing her to see us clearly.
Hanging around in far more casual attire behind the above were Solas, a man in a wide brimmed hat that did not seem to be paying attention, and a young she-elf whom I recognised at once. The latter had been fully encased in red lyrium the first time I had seen her, in the dark future. She seemed far more full of life now, and I promised myself to make sure she wouldn't see that fate in this timeline.
To round out the group, at the bottom of the dais directly ahead were Ambassador Montilyet and the Madame de Fer, the former studiously neutral as we finally made it within reasonable speaking distance, the latter not able to contain her hatred. Lady Vivienne looked ready to chew off a hand.
Thankfully, it was Montilyet who spoke.
"We welcome you to Skyhold," she declared, "You stand in the presence of the Inquisitor, Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick, the Herald of Andraste. Who comes before the Inquisition?" A question more than likely not aimed at me. They knew who I was.
That solved the mystery of who the Inquisitor was. It seems that the Herald had received a promotion, now being the formal leader of the Inquisition. My heart sank with the realisation. I had annexed her homeland into our own realm when I was Emperor, after all. Somehow, I doubted she would forgive that, and it wasn't like there was another we could turn to counteract this bad blood.
Montilyet left it at that, looking at us expectantly nonetheless.
Valle moved forward a single step ahead of Maya and I, giving a short bow from the waist. One of his civilian aides, an Aequitarian mage, moved forwards to join him, although the man was careful to stay on the sideline. When he finally arrived, he began making the introductions.
"Presenting Adam Valle, Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Trojan Republic."
Valle gave another bow, deeper this time.
"Maya Tiberia, Chairperson of the Trojan National Assembly and leader of the Impera political fraternity." Maya did nothing, except stand a little straighter. Bowing was beneath her dignity now, especially to someone without a formal landed title.
"And Samuel Hunt, Marquis de la Fayette, General of the Third Infantry Division of the Trojan Army." It was quite pleasing to hear my titles reduced to that extent, I have to say. I stood to attention and snapped off my best salute.
The Herald and her entire entourage ignored the other two and instead kept their attention on me. I stared back at Trevelyan, not intimidated for a second. I had no idea if it was true, but I suspected they had planned it. Of course, it was a little hard to sustain that belief when the she-elf struggled to peek around the Iron Bull's bulk for a better look, not to mention hard to keep a grin off my face.
"Why have you come?" Trevelyan asked gravely, crossing her legs and steepling her hands, finally giving Valle her attention.
The Minister plastered on his best salesman smile. "Lady Inquisitor, we have come to understand the full gravity of the threat facing the world," he said, "No doubt Altus Pavus has informed you of it." Choosing his words carefully to keep those details out of the public ear, I noted.
Trevelyan's eyebrow twitched with annoyance, and she looked to her ambassador to tell us to get on with it.
"The details he gave us are consistent with information we have from another source," Montilyet answered, equally as carefully, "It is excellent that you are aware, but I note you have not answered the Inquisitor's question."
"We are here to negotiate a formal alliance," Valle said at once, "The world may very soon come to an end, it seemed unwise to simply continue sending money when we have so much more to offer."
"Your weapons?" Rutherford blurted out, before anyone else could answer, "Firelances, cannon?" He exchanged glances with Trevelyan. Hers clearly said she was annoying, but his said 'we should accept their offer'. Rutherford had seen the destructive power of cannon first-hand at Antiva, and he was a military man. The potential uses for the Inquisition were too good to ignore.
"The specific details will be the subject of negotiation," Valle said, "We certainly won't be insulted by such a request." Lies, obviously.
"Though it would be hard to convince the National Assembly to give you our weapons technology," Maya added sternly, pouring cold water on the idea, "We certainly could not have our own firelances used against us at a later date."
"It would depend on the full terms of any alliance," Valle agreed, deftly dodging the cold water, "Regardless, the full participation of our armies and fleets is on the table."
Rutherford looked like he was positively salivating at the prospect, giving a sharp affirmative nod to show his approval, receiving a bow directed towards him from Valle in reply.
"We would require you hand over the two which you encountered when you discovered the scale of the threat we all face," Nightingale said, seemingly strangely young to my eyes, "We must discover for ourselves what they know. There may be questions we can ask that you would not think of."
She was referring to her own counterpart and that of Tethras from the dark future. I couldn't believe she intended to interrogate herself in the manner her request implied. I certainly didn't want that fate for two people I had gone to lengths to rescue.
My turn to speak. "One of them is now a member of the Grey Wardens of Troy," I said, "The other is still grievously wounded and is recovering in our hospital. We will give you access to them in due course, but handing them over is out of the question, at least without their consent."
"It would be best if you did not speak," Pentaghast intoned gravely.
I found that rude.
"Then do not make requests that require me to," I replied cheekily, "Like it or not, you'll have to hear me speak if this alliance is going to work." The Seeker looked at me like I was a dung beetle that had stood up and told her to get out of his backyard, which seemed to amuse Tethras and the she-elf.
"Having to hear you speak is a reason to not have an alliance at all," Trevelyan said, in a tone as cold as an arctic blizzard, "You have done much damage. Raising a massive revolt in Orlais, trampling Fereldan, seizing the rightful territory of others for your new realm, declaring new laws without the right. It seems any time you speak or act, chaos is sown."
She stood up from her throne, and pointed a finger at me.
"You took my family's own lands for your Republic," she said, "My brother Maxwell lost a hand in battle against your 'Soprano'. You have seized half the Free Marches for yourselves too. This alliance you propose will see us fight side by side. Why should I trust you when you will likely shoot me in the back because I do not believe in your political philosophy?"
The room was silent as a grave, awaiting my answer. All I could hear was the pumping of my own heart... and not only because it was that quiet. Her words completely ignored the context of all the actions she had described. The mass murder of the leaders of Free Orlais, our forcible exile to Ferelden, the settlement of Val Halla, the war the Marchers and Qunari started themselves...
"Your brother lost his hand and your family their lands because they started a war of annihilation against us," I said, "And they lost that war. Vae victus. Woe unto the vanquished. You want a reason why you should trust us? Because we have every reason not to trust you, for the exact same reason you just mentioned, but we're still here."
I crossed my arms. "And what's more, you know this already," I said, "You know what is coming. Dorian has told you, and you believe him. You know an alliance could save hundreds of thousands of lives, perhaps millions."
I pointed at her.
"If you want to drag your family into this, I hear you. I will personally lobby the Assembly for your family to have their lands returned to them as private property, if that will satisfy your need for some sort of justice. But frankly, that's more than your family deserves for wanting to slaughter mine."
Trevelyan sat back down on her throne, with a strange look on her face, like she hadn't considered what would happen to my family if they had won the war. Or perhaps she was seriously considering the return of her family's property but was not liking how bringing it up had made her look.
Valle cleared his throat, getting her attention once more.
"My Lady, do you believe in the Maker?" he asked, "In the power of Andraste?"
The Inquisitor's expression softened... as did that of Pentaghast and Nightingale. Some of her companions looked awkward at the question.
"With all my heart, Minister Valle," Trevelyan answered, as Pentaghast bowed her head in reverence, "The Maker and his bride guide us in all things."
The Inquisitor was a pious woman by her nature, raised to trust the Chantry and the institutions, though she was not above making changes if it preserved the fundamental ideal. Her choice of Divine however was abysmal, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
"Then may I suggest that the Maker has created the situation we find ourselves in?" Valle continued, "That none of this is coincidence, and that he has given us the tools to defeat the demons and the Elder One?"
"When you say tools," Pentaghast asked, scepticism evident in her voice, "Are you referring to your weapons?"
Valle shook his head. "I am referring to the Inquisitor and the General," he explained, "Think about it. The Breach has brought a great calamity that will only end when three things are accomplished; the portals to the Fade must be closed, the demons that have already come to our world must be defeated, and those responsible must be held to account."
He gestured to Trevelyan with one hand.
"The Maker has given you the power to close the hellgates," Valle said, "They call you the Herald of Andraste and say that the Lady herself sent you from the Fade after the Temple of Sacred Ashes was destroyed."
He now waved his other hand at me.
"Samuel Hunt is Andraste's Chosen, a bane to demons and abominations alike, they cannot harm him," Valle declared, "He has come with weapons, machines and strategies such that only the mightiest host of demons can defeat those who stand with him."
He brought both his hands together in front of him, threading his fingers.
"Both of your abilities are perfectly complimentary, as the Maker intended," he concluded, "Together, you have the magical, military and moral might to end this crisis. The rifts would be sealed, the demons defeated. And those who brought the world so low? They would have no hope of victory."
The man was convincing, I had to give him that. If I didn't know him to be a liar, I certainly would have thought he believed it too. The man believed more in the power of silver and gold, than gods and spirits. The idea that it was fate that Trevelyan and I come together to face the Elder One was a powerful one, regardless of its truth value.
Wondering if others thought Valle's words had been worth a damn, I scanned the Inquisitor and her companions. The pious ones certainly seemed convinced, the anger towards me bubbling in their expressions gone all of a sudden. Most of the others just breathed and stood easier, relieved more than anything else. The two exceptions were interesting.
Lady Vivienne looked away, seemingly disappointed that an outright rejection seemed unlikely. The strength of Valle's argument had just pissed her off.
The other was Solas. He regarded Valle like a moron, for reasons I couldn't understand at the time. Of course, the reason was that he knew for sure that Valle was wrong about both myself and Trevelyan. He knew the real origins of both our abilities. He was the Dread Wolf, after all.
The Inquisitor waved her inner circle over to confer for a few minutes, leaving Valle to direct his fake 'Am I good or what?' smile my way for a little while. I was more than happy to tolerate it, as long as it wasn't premature. Which it wasn't.
The discussion at the throne ended with everyone returning to where they had been, and the Inquisitor once again steepling her hands.
"Perhaps you are right, Minister," Trevelyan admitted, "It does seem to be too large a coincidence, that I should be able to close Fade rifts and the Marquis can fight demons unharmed. At the very least, it merits greater discussion. And as you probably saw on the way in, we certainly could use all the help we can get."
Namely with rebuilding and supplying Skyhold, just to start with. She eyes flickered to me briefly too.
"And I apologise to the Marquis for dragging the politics of Ostwick into this," she declared, "It was ignoble of me, particularly in times like these."
Such excellent sense, such realpolitik was astonishing. She was cut from very different cloth than most of the Marcher nobles I knew or had met, including her own family. They would never have admitted fault, in anything.
Jesus, I thought to myself, Valle really had hit home with his little speech.
"Don't worry about it," I said, more polite than I was before, "Our two realms had a very serious conflict recently. It's harder for you to be magnanimous about it since you're the one who lost your home. Truthfully, I don't want anyone to lose their home if I can help it. I am sorry that it came to that."
"It shows great strength of will to put that aside for the good of all," Valle said, bowing once more, "I suspect we shall find much to agree on in the coming days, Lady Inquisitor."
Trevelyan sighed to herself, before nodding a few times in agreement. It was clearly hard for her to have done this, but she was beginning to believe it was for the best.
"If it helps, I'll be nowhere near the negotiations," I added with a smirk.
Trevelyan broke out in a smile herself now, unable to help herself. "It does, actually," she said.
A man in an Inquisition tabard pushed his way past me, panting from exertion, and made his way over to the Ambassador. She was handed a note, which she read while the man doubled over and caught his breath.
"King Alistair of Ferelden has arrived, your Worship," Montilyet declared to Trevelyan.