The scuffling shoes against the winter-brisk gravel resounds in steadfast duty and leisure at the camp of Haven. Leliana's attention is focused upon the table, in a tent outdoors with soldiers going amok their usual day and long-adopted routine to keep this camp active and in tip-top shape. In front of her is a set of paper written with the information she had gathered after her interrogation with the traitorous spy. As it turns out, not killing the traitor outright had its merits, had it not been Arturia's intense but cool-headed intervention, the redhead would have been left forever wondering how such a spy could have ever slip underneath her nose - her own nose out of all people.
There are far too many flaws in the current spy network system - orchestrated by yours truly - to allow it to be exploited as far as it already has any further. Who knows what other spies might be hiding among them? Thankfully, with the captured enemy spy's confession, Leliana has already sealed most of these flaws and even arrested a few other traitors, done in secrecy of course. It is miraculous that she is able to catch this in time, lest the damage to the Inquisition would have been astronomical either now or into the future.
Perhaps she should inquire the Qun's disposition to deal with other potential spies, should this ever occur again...
Well, a thought for another time. Leliana is disappointed in herself enough as it is for having been so careless, if not, downright sloppy. Albeit, when the...incident at the Conclave had happened and the order of the world took no time crumbling thereafter, it is true that things were rushed when forming the second Inquisition, they had to be, less even more victims would have died if they did not act fast enough. What is truly unforgivable is that she has been conscious of the fact that their haste would obviously leave many exposed weaknesses in their workings as a new group, and she reprimands herself for not having acted sooner to properly lock them down.
She will be certain not to make that mistake again.
Though her focus is upon the listed information, the spymaster never loses the awareness of her surroundings, and so is not surprised to hear a voice call her name with their closing footsteps.
"Leliana." Recognizing the voice of Cullen, Leliana slightly tilts her head to look at him and bids him a nodding greeting. "One of your men called for me to meet you here. Have you received any reports from our group in the Fallow Mire?"
Cullen inwardly mulls over in hope that she has, if a letter arrived from that place, that tells him that someone is still alive, and if the letter happens to not be of demands for rescue, then it's even better.
Leliana confirms with another nod, handing him one document, "You and I would be pleased to know that our Herald and our other agents have arrived the Fallow Mire safely, and not only had they set up their stronghold there, but it seems they've managed to befriend the neighbors rather well, and will be having teas and scones with them later."
Whether she is kidding or not, that is essentially the relationship the Inquisition group has formed with the barbarians known as the Avvar, all under a single day after they have first become captors, then allies.
"How on earth did Arturia managed to get an Avvar agent on our side?" The commander asks with much downing disbelief quietly shown in his face.
The former Left Hand of the Divine shrugs, as if giving up all efforts to make sense of their Herald anymore, "At this point, we really shouldn't be so surprised by our young Herald's negotiating skills, given how far she has already helped our group get to where we are now. There are quite a few uses for an Avvar agent. I might do well with this Skywatcher as a scout who could adapt to unpredictable weather scenarios, for him to live and survive the Fallow Mire as long as he has, his contribution to the Inquisition will certainly be most useful and appreciated."
"It's a good thing I went ahead and sent some reinforcements just in case something happened at the Mire, now those men can help hold down the fort of that cursed place," Cullen states, crossing his arms.
"There's more to your visit here, Commander," Leliana adds, turning to the man fully. "I'll need your help organizing how the Inquisition will communicate with the Mages and the Templars when we make full contact to both groups. I'm sure your experience working within the Templars, and the Mages you've looked over in the Circle, will assist us immensely to be at steady standing between the two opposing groups."
"Convincing both groups to join our sides, which by extension, have them work alongside each other, it's not exactly going to be a cake-walk. That much I can tell you," Cullen responds with an unenthusiastic look. Leliana sympathizes with the man.
"Let's just hope that both will be willing to hear us before casting us out, by blade or by magic," The spymaster states as she prays to the Maker for support, and for all things to go as good as they reasonably can. She doesn't expect the Mages and Templars to shake and hold hands, only hopes that they won't pull out their staff and sword to instantly kill them on the spot.
If Leliana is willing to listen to reason and let go of that traitorous spy, then she can only pray that the same will be done from these leaders of opposing factions.
Thunderous light lashes from the dark skies as endless rains pelts their covered bodies. The several deceased corpses of walking undead made even further cold from the ice magic cast forth by Vivienne's staff, and the demons figures whom she also freezes over.
It is the first that she has ever seen demons in the flesh and outside of the Fade, possession is a matter she is not unfamiliar with, but this is an entirely different experience as not just one but several have barged into the real world. Such ugly and wicked things, truly exempt of all decent qualities. Such existence should never intrude into this world, and the sooner that she returns these creatures to the depths of the Fade, the safer that all will be.
The Rift warps within reality, a sickly green with its glow stretching out towards the entire area, the sole fire that continues to light and spew out dangerous sparks in the midst of this horrible, unnatural weather. Such magic so unlike any the First Enchanter has ever seen with her own eyes; such powerful and dangerous magic she could not help but regard it in fascination before she turns away to perform her entrusted duty upmost alongside the others - that is, to defend their knight, their Herald, the only person known capable of closing these Rifts.
Arturia stands before the tear in the Veil, her hand raised against it as the unknown magic swirls from the Rift and is drained into her marked hand. While she is focused on sealing the doorway into the Fade that has been releasing these demons, Vivienne and the other companions of Arturia are doing all they could and might to keep off not only the demons from attacking Arturia's defenseless back.
But the undead of the Fallow Mire that have been imprisoned here in these forests, forever to rise in endless numbers, this is their cursed home.
A black muck slaps the Orlesian mage's face as another undead lays defeated, Vivienne being barely able to contain her miffed disgust before pressing on as collectively as ever.
The Rift then comes to a close, disappearing in an errie flash into Arturia's hand before the knight quickly rushes to their aid, and together, they dispose of all of the remaining enemies...for now anyhow. It won't be long before another swarm of undead arrives.
"Quickly, before more come," Arturia, thankfully, holds that same fact in mind, and move they did.
Flashback...
Earlier, Arturia had a discussion with Vivienne and Solas, asking the two experienced mages - though Vivienne would argue she's the only mage here of that regard - in what they thought of the Fallow Mire. There were plenty of things Vivienne had expressed about this dreadful place already, but she suspected that Arturia was asking them of something else.
"This place of unfathomable conditions, endless undead, and constant misfortune," Solas listed off the few out of several other descriptions one alone could muster for this place. "None of it is natural, or rather, there are agitated spirits here that have not been put to proper rest, causing everything such as this storm to transpire. Perhaps some ancient old curse that broke free after these lands were trespassed and disrespected, though that's just one theory."
"Indeed, though any mage can conclude to that," Vivienne voiced her thoughts, she bit back the urge to smirk when she saw a twitch in Solas' eye, she continued, "I have sensed something was off when I've arrived here. Perhaps something that is similar to the existence of these Rifts, though certainly not as catastrophically dire as that Breach."
"The Fallow Mire's condition has been going on long before the Breach appeared, and are far too different from the effects of the Rifts. Of course, a usual mage would take notice of that," Solas remarked with a hint of rebuke to Vivienne's comment, which the enchanter coolly reacted with nothing towards outwardly. "Whatever is causing these unusual circumstances, it might seem unlikely to settle for how long it has dwelled, or what would be unlikely."
The elven mage shifted his position into a more comfortable stance as he continued, "There may be a way to tend to these supernatural occurrences. My recommendation, the Fallow Mire has to be dealt with sooner, and not later. There are no promises if the undead and spirits that haunt this place won't be urged to move beyond the forest and into the rest of civilization. A countless number of them we would not be able to stand a chance against."
"Precisely why I wish to speak with the two of you," Arturia stated, "Solas, we once had a conversation about Elven Artifacts, and that there are such artifacts that have the mystical properties to bend reality itself."
"I recall. Yes," Solas answered with a nod.
"From what Leliana's spies have gathered and reported to me, there may be such an artifact somewhere around here. I do not know if that means to say that this place was once an area of importance to the elven people, or some other force have brought such an item here, but either way, I intend to locate it. If the Inquisition is to secure its flag here in the Fallow Mire, we must deal with the supernatural mayhem that has been going on for far too long here."
"And by finding the artifact, we could diminish the Fallow Mire harrowing state to extraordinary feats," Solas rubbed his chin, "It might not be enough to completely cleanse this place, but it is certainly a start - ah. So that's why you called for me and for Lady Vivienne."
"You wish for us to locate it, I take it?" Vivienne easily surmised, checking her nails and removing the dirt grim that managed to slip underneath. "If the Elven Artifact is indeed magical, then any mage with arcane sensitivity could be able to detect and find it.
"That is the idea," The youthful blonde confessed. "I do not know how well this will work, but we must nevertheless try. Too many souls have been trapped here for too long, and as Solas says, it's likely only a matter of time before the air of this place will reach everywhere else. We must do what we can to finally put this place to rest."
"Never fear then, darling," Vivienne assured, "I wholeheartedly agree that this place has gone too long in its state of disorder, it's time that the Fallow Mire will yield its harrowing presence."
And finally, put an end to the eyesore that these dark clouds could be seen for miles.
Flashback Ends...
That is the end result of that conversation, and thus, where they are now. Seeking for the Elven Artifact to put an end to the curse that has lived in these forests of lost souls, battling with more undead and spirits along the way. Truly, this place must be dealt with, for who knows how much worse this place can become.
Through the harsh weather, the group braves on with Solas and Vivienne to guide them at the front while also holding up a barrier, to keep the rest behind them mostly safe from any flying debris. Increasingly, they can feel a hum in their systems the further they walk, and eventually they come upon a cave. Taking this time to save themselves from the showering rain, the group hurries in and takes time to catch their collective breathes.
It is here that Vivienne and Solas find what they are searching for. Embedded into the wall with many years dusted upon its sleek texture and empowering properties faint within the artifact, they secure the Elven Artifact, entrusting Solas with it as he seems to be sure of how to best handle it and avoid the curious and prone-accident - on purpose at that - rogue elf who leans around Solas' form to see the artifact.
Solas is being very careful so that his fellow elf does not in any way break their sole item for curing this place of supernatural misfortune. It also seems that the elf girl, Sera, if the enchanter recalls, seems more amused at Solas' wary reaction around her than she does have any interest in what he holds in guard.
This entire personal witness to the endeavors of the Inquisition has been a bit more...uncomfortable - perhaps even worse - than what Vivienne had been expecting. And she has kept her standards quite considerably low as it is. The first to succeed her expectations are the...interesting characters that Sir Arturia is being accompanied by, so interesting that the Orlesian herself feels quite out of place - she supposes she should have brought something more casual for herself, like for a woman to bring her wedding gown at a mud festival.
Which is an accurate description to this position Vivienne finds herself in, if she is to be honest.
Her feelings for the elven mage are made quite noticeably clear enough as it is. Sera is a bit too robust and peculiar to her personal liking. The Iron Bull knows his moments of professionalism which she can commend him for, but as for other times, he seems to take a liking to being battle-drunk than being actually drunk. Varric, though a renowned author with eloquent writings which she had taken upon herself to read and still does, in person he certainly wasn't what she'd expected exactly. Blackwall has his air of mystique yet carries his duties enough...for a Grey Warden, though she feels constantly compelled to convince him to trim his beard, just a peg. Cassandra might be the only other woman in this little group of theirs, aside from Arturia herself, whom Vivienne can say she respects highly, though there can be a bit more femininity to the warrior woman, not the sort of regal masculinity that Arturia had introduced herself as.
Yet despite the others' unique individuality, they have been proven to be more than competent in their work and respective roles. Their worth of their abilities are as so because of their individual traits, she can say this even for those she has taken a personal disliking towards. But by far, the one who has surprised her the most is Arturia herself. For someone so young, her achievements are nothing short of excellency, her ways on the battlefield and her disposition as a leader, it only makes the enchanter all the more curious of this knight's origins.
"Has everyone gotten the chance to catch their breathes?" Arturia asks the group, her emerald green eyes scanning every person from beneath her hood. When words of confirmation are sent her way, she then proceeds, "Let us return to camp. Cassandra, when we arrive there, I wish to initiate a planning system to the new holds here and connect to all of the camps we have thus far. We must have it properly secured before we can establish a working communication system and trade."
"I will send word to Haven then," Cassandra affirms while rolling her shoulders in an effort to work out the kinks in her muscles, "Cullen and Josephine will be able to help with that."
With that plan of action confirmed, they then walk out from the cave and onto the road back to their main camp. The rain has thankfully lightened up, now mere sounds of constant, heavy droplets against their raincoats, with Arturia in her golden-yellow coat leading them the way.
Arturia tells Solas and Vivienne that they may rest their magic for the time being, and thanks them immensely for their efforts of keeping up the barrier for as long as they have.
"Think nothing of it, darling," Vivienne tells her while slightly rolling her slender neck. She is more than merry to have helped, even at the cost of her lovely, in-season rain boots, now utterly black with unholy mud, the beautiful lavender coloring completely stained.
As they resume the walk back to camp, Vivienne notices Cassandra is guarding their backs this time. An opportune time for the First Enchanter to learn more about their stoic young leader. Slowing her footsteps with a subtlety that won't immediately garner all's attention, she walks beside the Seeker who remains attentive to her surroundings.
After a moment or two of silence, the enchanter then starts conversation aka information fishing, "Quite the person the Herald of Andraste is."
Cassandra side-glances at her, sending a respectful nod, "She is."
"It's quite remarkable how she was able to cope with the Fallow Mire, and even stand against the leader of the Avvar herself. Whoever has trained her has most certainly discipline those skills of hers very well."
"So it would seem."
'How direct.' Well, a veteran of the Game can certainly work with that. Truthfully, a nice change of pace where others would dance around the topic, much like how she is doing herself.
"Did you happen to train her, Lady Cassandra?" Vivienne questions with a slightly innocent edge.
"I did not. She had known how to wield a sword before I met her," Cassandra answers before adding on, "Though I do spar with her now and then."
Keyword missing: try. As she could never land a direct hit on Arturia. In fact, if anything, she is the one teaching Cassandra a few things during those sessions. Good Maker, if Varric hears of this she will never hear the end of it, worse that he might even put it in his next book, which will surely result in her punching the dwarf's teeth out if he even thinks to do so.
"Self-taught then?"
"No. Her father had taught her. I do not know if he was a soldier once, none that I have heard if that is the case."
"Perhaps I can assist?" Vivienne offers slyly. "I happen to know quite a number of people, who knows a set of people, who have heard quite numerous whispers within the walls throughout the land, I might be able to help find the man, and to commend him for raising such a brave and talented girl."
"That...will not be possible," The dark-haired woman slowly informs with a sullen look, "We've been scrambling for any information of her kin, but no such luck, or even a home. Arturia...had informed us then that she has no surviving family members."
"...I see," Vivienne's voice is neutral. So, Arturia has been homeless with no relatives. She must have wandered in the lands of Ferelden for quite some time then. No wonder she is unheard of prior to the Conclave explosion, and there is no telling what family she could herald from, it's even possible the name Pendragon is not her real name.
If so, what is Arturia trying to hide? Not that Vivienne isn't sympathetic with the girl's situation. It explains why Arturia always presents herself so sternly and even cold, for someone to have survived on their own, they must be hardened, in order to protect themselves from those who may take advantage of her.
"Does she truly have no other relatives?" Vivienne pushes on, making sure not to make her too curiosity obvious.
"If she does, we have not found them," Cassandra answers.
"Though surely, with how well Arturia has handled her position, her calm judgments, and that stunning sword of hers that can turn invisible, her family must have been quite proficient in war tactics and familiar with enchanted objects."
"You would be correct to assume so," Cassandra admits. "There are theories, but so far, we know nothing much else of her family, other than that her father and herself had lived as farmers."
A farmer? That girl? That most certainly cannot be all that there is.
"If that is as much as you know of her, then is it wise to have her be in the position she is now?" Vivienne questions the warrior woman, "If the world and especially her main supporters know so little about her, it's no wonder why anyone would distrust her at first. A girl that came out of nowhere only to be the sole survivor of a disaster that killed the Divine, so the reaction that came was nothing surprising. Still, if perhaps there is nothing to unearth about the girl, then perhaps you should ask her yourself?"
A hint of annoyance emits in the Seeker's tone as she answers the prodding mage, "With all due respect, Lady Vivienne, with everything that's happened since the Conclave's destruction, we've had our hands full, even now. There is also a reason why we trust Arturia despite her unknown origins: she has proven herself time and time again, risking her own life constantly and helping all those she could reach out to. She has helped not only the Inquisition to garner the attention and reputation it has, but has helped countless in quelling the madness. I do not know where she has come from, and even I at first distrusted her, but I know that if not for Arturia and the kind of character she has, we would not be where we are, and neither would those who were able to live thanks to her unhesitant involvement. It would be almost unjust of us to doubt her after so much she has done for everyone."
"Forgive me, Lady Cassandra. My curiosity had me forget my manners," Vivienne apologizes to ease the temper of the aggravated woman. "I do not mean any disrespect. On the contrary, I admire how much our Herald has done. I would not be interested in helping her and your cause if I did not believe that she would be the solution to all of the turmoil that rallies across Thedas."
Cassandra nods, "You have every right to wonder, as do I. It would be wise to ask Arturia more about herself, but only time will tell, and if she is ready to disclose it to us. It will most certainly be useful to learn more of Arturia, as we will be planning to negotiate with the Mages and Templars."
Vivienne nearly stops in her tracks, but is able to continue so swiftly, she hardly even pauses, "Pardon? She wishes to communicate with both the Templars and the Mages?"
"If we are to seal the Breach, we must gather all the help we can acquire," Cassandra begins to explain, not noticing the growing discontent coming from the dark-skinned woman, "Arturia intends to negotiate with the Mages and Templars, once we are done with the Fallow Mire. Should all go accordingly, we may be able to have their joined efforts to our cause, and perhaps put an end to their fighting once and for all."
"That is certainly quite a feat she intends to reach," Vivienne states coolly, hiding the sight of her knuckles growing white from how hard she's gripping her staff. "I wish nothing but the best of fortunes."
Though her words are full of encouragement, inside her mind, the Enchanter is simply baffled. What on earth can Arturia be thinking to involve the Mage Rebellion?! Just gaining the cooperation of Templars alone would be a better choice. This entire matter with the Breach and untamed magic should and can only be conducted by those who are specially trained to deal with such uncontrollable problems. The First Enchanter approves of the Inquisition seeking the Templars, but not only are they intending to speak with those rebelling Mages who has caused nothing but trouble for everyone, but to have both groups join this cause?
This is...most troubling.
Vivienne will have to see what she can do, and hopefully, bring reason to the sir knight who firmly looks ahead, of the future for the Inquisition to take hold of.
After a while, the group finally reaches their camp, and everyone goes off separately to clean off the mud and deceased blood each and every one of them have collected all over their respective raincoats and what managed to slip past them, and to also recover their stamina, the hike has stirred up quite a bit of appetite for all of them.
Arturia retreats to her private tent, a bowl of scones in hand by her request, which she places on a small table. The cooks here have taken well to make nicely thanks to Arturia's close guidance.
After taking the time to remove her eternally stained attire, the fresh-up knight takes a seat by a set of books in front of her - books that Josephine had delivered to her student to catch up on her studies. Even with the world at stake, one must never slack off in their education. The blonde takes and opens one book, and began reading through it with a scone in her hand she takes a bite out of.
"Honestly! What a dreadful, disgusting, vile place!"
Of course, there is never a moment for the King of Knights to simply have her quiet time.
"Filthy! Deplorable! Ghastly!" Excalibur continuously spiels inside her head with the most harrumphed disgust noise that surpasses Cassandra's own. "Horrible! Unacceptably horrible! Why on earth did you have to bring me here at such a place?! I would have preferred to stay at Haven had I known this was what the Fallow Mire was!"
"I concur," Arturia agrees quietly, flipping the next page. "It's actually even worse than how I imagine, even after all the reports I've read about this place." Not that it's the filth that disturbes her, but the unholy state of it all! Mass of undead and spirits, weathers the could drown cities. "Truly, it was far worse than I could ever expect. If any of it were to extend beyond the Mire, the disaster it would bring..."
Her Excalibur pauses, "Speaking of dreaded conditions, how are you dealing with that?"
Arturia frowns, and after a single glance towards the closed entrance of the tent, she slowly unbuttons her white shirt; the shirt she had had on herself since the second time she awoken in Haven, the shirt she has become quite questionably attached, for it is the first to be given in this new world. Loosening her shirt, she looks down.
An eerie faint glow of the tattoo that mares the center of her chest, pulsing an almost sinister green to the rhythm of her heartbeat.
"I've been feeling its irritation for quite some time since I've arrived here," Arturia admits her sword. "It must have something to do with the supernatural circumstances of the Fallow Mire, this...thing reacting to it. There might be, if not a direct relation, but a similarity in nature between the Fallow Mire's curse and the Mark."
She suddenly closes the book, not having even passed the third page. Setting it aside, she looks through the other books, "I've been reading more about strange phenomena that have occured in Thedas. Theories and events that are recorded by the Circle or other mages across the world, all of these stemming from the speculation of the intervention and powers of beings other than the Maker. Powers that mortals do not know or comprehend as of yet."
"Like the magic in your hand."
She nods in confirmation, finding the book she is looking for. It was concealed in paper packaging, which Arturia removed easily, reading its velvet red, leather cover. This book, as Josephine has written in her folded letter that was placed between the pages, it was a very particularly difficult book to find, even having to go through "under the table" methods of transfer for her to acquire this book, making it clear that she is owed a favor for it.
The Chantry did everything it could to burn and erase these editions and every other book that discussed this topic. With the authors socially condemned for writing what is quote on quote: "a blasphemous defiance against the Chantry, Andraste, and the Maker Himself!" Some of said authors that lived in Southern Thedas were even removed from the public entirely, their fates left forever unknown.
"Whatever this magic is that gave me this scar, that gave you life, the ability to close Rifts and potentially the Breach itself, all of it are untempered magic that have not been known beforehand. We cannot say for certain if this magic in my hand...is actually a good thing to have, even as it helps us this far in keeping demons from breaking into our...into this world."
Whether Excalibur did not notice or simply chose not to comment her slip of the tongue is unknown as he chooses to proceed with, "It is only a matter of time before we may understand the true effects your mark has and will have for this world, and what force gave it to you. Perhaps, they could in fact be related to one of the old deities, either those considered benevolent...or those that are not."
Arturia's eyes narrows, staring at the cover of the book that reads: The World Before Ours, When Dragons Ruled: a Study of Ancient Times and the Reign of the Old Gods.
"If it is the latter," Excalibur adds, his tone barred of his exuberant nature, "then let us hope it is not the worst of them all."
That's right, the Old Gods of Tevinter and their history are related to the mark on Arturia's chest. Now WHAT exactly it is and HOW much they have to do with her current state of existence whether directly or indirectly is something that'll be discovered as time goes on. Hopefully the twist will be good enough to surprise you all.
This is a much shorter chapter than previous ones, essentially a team-bonding sort of chapter while also giving in a little more depth to the story as we go on.
By the way, just to be clear, while in some Fate stories Arturia is depicted to be 25 years old, in this fic Arturia is 35 years old for story purposes. For this fic, how old she was at certain events during her life in Britain is as follows:
Arturia's Age History:
Taking out the Sword In The Stone: 15
Officially Taking The Throne: 25
Death On The Hill: 35
Also, as some of you can guess, soon we shall be entering the Templar and Mage recruitment missions. Some twist and turns will be involved that'll make sure you lot cannot predict EVERYTHING and dismiss this as a simple re-read of the DA: Inquisition plotline. So hopefully you'll enjoy what's in store!
Take care everyone, and be happy, healthy, and safe.
