CHAPTER 3
Ellana was thrilled at the outcome of her class. From the lectern, she had spotted only the glare of a few cell phones as she reviewed the details of her syllabus and introduced the textbook. She'd like to have claimed credit for such diligence, but she knew the University of Orlais enforced a strict behavioral code and a high minimum grade point average. Not performing well would have consequences.
Ellana didn't expect that many of the second-year students enrolled had much interest in the subject of Art History, but she would do her best to convince them of its merit. Besides, she was grateful to have teaching assistants to deal with the more minute issues and grading. A privilege that had not been granted to her in previous teaching posts.
A few of the students had lingered to talk to her after class, mostly with questions about due dates and other project guidelines. Ellana had been caught unprepared when a young woman named Sera, with jagged-cut bleached hair and tartan leggings, had pulled out the textbook. She interrogated her for ten or more minutes about its contents, highlighting several claims about the elven pantheon as a precursor to Andrastian iconography "It's nonsense, yeah?" She could only shake her head, tired more than annoyed, and suggest that perhaps Sera should stop by her next block of office hours.
The overall positive experience renewed in Ellana a sense of purpose. She was excited to meet her new colleagues and head up to her office, and even more pleased, double-checking during the break, to learn that all of her obligations were located in the same quad for the next few hours.
Exiting the classroom, she noticed for the first time, despite the crumbling stone exterior of what she learned was the "arts building," its interior was modern. The outside hallways ran along an inner courtyard (visible with floor to ceiling windows) that was filled with a verdant landscape of climbing trees and vines. The effect was striking, as natural light permeated every corner.
It was good to be at a well-funded institution with a strong endowment.
Ellana looked down at her watch and saw that she had about ten minutes before her fellow faculty would gather. Practically skipping up the stairs, she was surprised, upon entering the department conference room, to see a gathering of all human professors huddled over a copy of her book. Among them, Ellana spotted the sour woman who had ignored her plea for directions. Clearly, none had expected her to arrive on time.
Ellan paused in the doorway their conversation. Even if it was rude, she knew it was a trap. She rolled her eyes when the sour woman whispered to the group, "I saw her this morning, with that strange face-tattoos. You should have heard her Orlesian accent, it was terrible. Couldn't even find her classroom!"
Won't they be surprised going forward, Ellana thought to herself rolling her eyes.
"What was Vivienne thinking?" A grizzled man wearing a tie two sizes too large for him muttered. "She is definitely a diversity hire."
"Roderick," a white-haired woman with a fashionable bob chastised, "There are some very innovative ideas here. I think you might be a tad jealous given this undermines several of your arguments about early Andrastian mosaics..."
It was petty, but Ellana enjoyed the startled look on the group's face when she loudly cleared her throat, and they all turned to stare at her realizing that the subject in question had overheard their gossip session.
The older woman who defended Ellana's work turned to her with a smile. "You must be Dr. Ellana Lavellan. My name is Wynne, welcome to the University of Orlais."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Wynne," Ellana greeted warmly, outstretching her hand, which Wynne readily accepted.
Turning, Ellana beamed: "It is so lovely to meet you all. I look forward to working with the department. I'm sure there are many productive conversations that we will have over the year." Having survived several other toxic departments, she had learned that kindness to be her best defense. That and she thought the other faculty members if she was lucky, had at least determined to be more discreet next time they wanted to jab at her work or pointed ears.
Wynne, and a few other faculty clapped with a mutter of "Welcome," but the vast majority dispersed, some to their offices, others to a conference table set up in the middle with crackers, cheese, and other finger-food. She was about to grab a much-needed snack when Wynne stepped over and warmly took her by the arm. Ellana wasn't usually comfortable with so much physical affection, especially from someone she didn't know, but she could sense that Wynne's efforts were protective.
"I'm so glad you arrived. Don't listen to the others. They said the same things about me when I was the first woman professor hired. I've been here for almost fifty years now-can you believe it!" Wynne whispered. "Here, let me show you to her office."
"Thank you," Ellana responded, even if she didn't know much about the elder human, she felt a sense of kinship to her.
The two exited the conference room and turned a sharp corner to a hallway covered in colorful posters and other school advertisements. A few steps away, Wynne directed her to the office at the end of the corridor. Ellana paused to look at her engraved nameplate, tracing her fingers over the letters of her name and title. "Dr. Ellana Lavellan, Professor of Art History and Fellow of the University of Orlais Museum of Art."
Opening the door, Ellana saw that her office was essentially a closet, but it was clean and had a desk and swivel chair that didn't look too abused. Empty shelves lined the room, waiting to be filled from floor to ceiling with her research. There was one blank wall, ready for a single large canvas or framed print. Luckiest of all, however, was the narrow window that let in an almost adequate amount of natural light. Ellana thought she might even be able to grow a few small plants.
"You'll want to talk to the administrative assistant, Zevran, about any supplies or access you might need." Wynne instructed, "He's a good man, even if he is a bit odd."
Squeezing the woman's arm in appreciation, Ellana said in her warmest voice. "Thank you truly."
"I should leave you to your preparations." Wynne said with a kind smile, gesturing to a phone on Ellana's desk, along with a phone directory, "Again, Zevran, the department admin assistant can help you get set-up. My number is also listed, should you require it. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you need it!"
With a wave, Wynne stepped out of Ellana's office, the sound of her short heels clacking on the linoleum floors. With a sigh, Ellana slumped into the chair, setting her briefcase down on the desk. Pulling out her laptop from her bag, she opened it, realizing that she was exhausted, and it wasn't even yet noon. Where had the day gone?
She had spent the past week driving in a rented car from the Free Marshes. She had only just arrived a day prior, spending the night moving her things, by herself, up three flights of stairs. There weren't many boxes, but the physical labor had been hard on her.
That and carting up all her worldly possessions by herself reminded her of what little of a support system she had. Her life on the Dalish poverty-stricken reservation had been difficult. Although her Keeper, a woman by the name of Deshanna, was emotionally supportive, her parents had died in her early childhood, and she bounced around any families willing to take her in. Everyone in her clan was kind, but there hadn't been many extra resources to help her along the way.
If she failed at this job, there wouldn't be a safety net to fall back on.
It would be a relief to have some time to collect herself. Meeting her arch-nemesis first thing in the morning had thrown things off. Ellana had known that the man was on faculty, but was surprised to learn he also was a fellow elf considering how critical his writing had been. She didn't think that she had much to worry from the encounter except her pride, perhaps. Professor Fen'Harel didn't seem like the type to actively sabotage her.
She was also pretty sure, she remembered with embarrassment, that had she been anyone else, it seemed that Professor Fen' Harel would have asked her to dinner.
However, his bad review seemed more like the typical posturing of a senior faculty member: clueless and driven only by power for power's sake. Now that Ellana knew what he looked like, she could do her best to simply avoid him. Besides, when did the neurology department ever interact with art history?
A growl from her stomach reminded her that she hadn't yet had anything to eat that day. She took out her schedule, re-reading her itinerary. She had a few hours before she had her next meeting at the University of Orlais Museum of Art with her new boss. At least the museum was one of the most distinctive buildings at the university: undulating plates of glass and metal that shone brightly in the center of campus.
She'd have to be an idiot to get lost and even if reading maps had never been one of her more persuasive skills, Dr. Ellana Lavellan was no idiot.
Vivienne Le Fer sat facing Ellana in her in a gargantuan leather chair. All of the office looked as if it were fashioned out of a blizzard. Everything from the shag rug to the book covers was a snowy white. Looking at Vivienne's immaculate beige pantsuit, paired with a couture metal headpiece, Ellana couldn't help but think the formidable curator and department head was making a statement about her ruthless persona by her decor choices.
Ellana was intimidated, but not undaunted. She had met Vivienne a few times at academic conferences, and thought highly of her. Even if their conversations were short and to the point, she knew that Vivienne approved of her work, as much as Professor Le Fer could be of anything she did not invent.
"Darling," Vivienne had greeted her with two quick kisses on the cheek in the Orlesian style. "I'm so glad you are finally joining us on faculty. I was just so smitten with your book. I can't wait to see what we can whip up here."
Even if Vivienne gesturing wildly at the walls, Ellana knew better than to crack a smile.
"Thank you, Professor Le Fer, for this opportunity, and I can't wait to learn from your example."
"Vivienne, please."
"Yes, thank you, Vivienne, for such a warm and gracious welcome." Ellana knew she was laying the charm on a little thick, but after her dreadful morning, she needed things to go well.
"You are such a dear! So my understanding from your contract is that you'll be required to curate two exhibitions a year, one in the spring and fall. Given your start date, we'll expect one next spring at the earliest, of course-I know you specialize in the, how shall we say Elven arena. I know that is a perspective we haven't entertained very much in our curatorial pursuits."
Ellana knew to tread carefully in her answer. Vivienne's reputation as a scholar was squarely in the human canon. She valued what she considered the classics, notably traditional Andrastian mage-crafts. She didn't want to slight the mercurial woman on her first day at the job. That and Vivienne didn't have much patience for anything that made her feel irrelevant. Ellana had heard several stories of the famous curator breaking young scholars. She was determined not to join that list.
"I am open of course, Professor-"
"Vivienne."
"Excuse me, yes, Vivienne. I am open to your suggestions for a spring exhibition. I would appreciate- greatly appreciate that is your guidance, especially as I settle into campus."
"I was hoping you would say that, darling," Ellana noted that Vivienne never managed to say her name. Did she even remember it? " As you were walking over here, a delightful option presented itself. It seems that the Professor Fen'Harel, in the neurology department, thought the two of you might collaborate on a-"
"Professor Solas Fen'Harel?" Ellana interjected with a shocked squeal. She could feel heat rising to her face as she broke into a blush as red, she was sure, as a tomato. What was that man's problem!
"Oh goodness," Vivienne stopped, for a brief moment, ire flashing in her eyes, which put Ellana further on edge. "Yes, I quite forgot that you knew him. Wasn't there some business with your book, Fade Objects? Oh, yes, everyone was talking about it. I do hope that won't be an issue. Those things do happen. It's not like anyone died, after all."
It took all of Ellana's willpower to answer. She needed this job. At least, she thought of her almost empty bank account for a few paychecks. Considering that all was in her fridge until the next payday was a jar of peanut butter, some bread, and apples, she wasn't above admitting that she needed to compromise even if it was a significant blow to her ego.
"I think you are right in pointing out what an opportunity this could be for the institution," Ellana said with a forced smile. She hoped Vivienne noticed that she didn't answer her question explicitly. She couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be problems, considering that she had fantasized about using her magic to fry the smug elf's bald head like an egg.
"Excellent. It's decided again. Professor Fen'Harel will be delighted. He was so exuberant when we chatted on the phone. I thought that you two could explore the intersection of art and science. Riveting."
"Thank you, Vivienne," Ellana said as if she were part of a chorus line.
"I'll have my admin assistant email you both soon to get things started. Now if you will excuse me, my next meeting should be here any moment-"
"Oh, yes, of course." Ellana rose as gracefully as she could muster, extending her hand to the formidable woman who had just made her life a living hell.
"Don't be silly, Ellana," Vivienne said, pulling her in for two quick kisses on the cheek again. "You will be marvelous, I'm sure with all the things you do here on faculty. We are lucky to have you."
Even if she suspected that Vivienne was making her life knowingly difficult, Ellana couldn't help but think she heard a bit of genuine warmth in Vivienne's voice. I guess that's somewhat reassuring, Ellana thought to herself, slightly depressed, as she walked out into the courtyard finally on her way to purchase the latte she had been craving all morning. It is only one exhibition, after all, there will be others.
Ellana was sitting on one of the benches tucked next to the art building. She was doing her best to collect herself while drinking a cup of warm coffee. She had thought that the indulgence might cheer her up a bit after finding her day inextricably tied to Professor S. Fen'Harel. She was about to spill a few discreet tears when she was interrupted by the sound of rapid conversation in Tevene.
She looked up from her papers to see a perfectly manicured man with a well-styled mustache, pacing nearby. Ellana had never seen an outfit quite like the one he was wearing, a brocade jacket with feathered serpents winding their way around the sleeves, matched with strategically ripped leather pants and a low black v-neck shirt.
The man was boldly swearing-in earnest, obviously banking on how rare it would be for anyone in Orlais to speak the language. The things he was saying, however, were quite obscene-if not suggestive.
Ellana was quite amused. She couldn't help but enjoy the man's brazen style.
He noticed her staring, and instead of feeling chastened, he flashed her a wild smile. She turned her head slightly, giving him a somewhat exaggerated grimace when he made a particularly vulgar statement comparing the Chant of Light to part of the male anatomy.
Intrigued, the man stopped walking around and stared directly at her. "Do you understand me?" He mouthed in Tevene.
Ellana couldn't help but tease, and replied flawlessly, also in Tevene, "I've no idea what you are talking about, penises and all."
The man laughed before switching to Common. "No, Felix, sorry, I have to go. The most extraordinary thing has happened, a Dalish Elf mocking me in Tevene. I have-" He paused, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I'll call you later and tell you all about it."
He rolled his eyes at Ellana, clapping his free hand like a bird's beak to hint at his annoyance.
"Ok-ok, yes. Ok. Good-bye, Felix. I am hanging up now."
With a click, he shut off his phone screen before plopping down with an exuberant huff next to Ellana. He tucked one hand up underneath his chin and blinked at her flirtatiously with two big brown eyes. Ellana laughed at his clowning.
"I'm sorry to listen-just."
"Oh, no, please Dorian Pavus, at your acquaintance. I'm rather impressed; actually, your Tevene is so much better than my husband's, and he's been trying to learn for over a decade. His inflection is a little closer to growling. He is qunari, however, so I know he thinks a little snarl here or there adds emphasis."
"Dr. Ellana Lavellan," she said, extending her hand, which Dorian drew to his lips and kissed. "I completed my Ph.D. in Minrathous."
"Ah, so you went to the Minrathous Institute of Technology," Dorian said with a bit of a groan. Saying you went to school in Minrathous was the thing that every MIT alum said when they didn't want people to judge them as the institution had a reputation for producing entitled and pompous alums. Like the University of Orlais, the elite school was known across all of Thedas as one of the finest, most selective, places to learn.
"Yes, forgive me. I studied at MIT. I wasn't trying to be coy…"
Dorian laughed again. Ellana realized that she was fond of the man even if she had just met him a few moments prior.
"You must be a new faculty member…" he said, looking at her briefcase and several of the other books she had collected in the span of the day
"Yes, I'm in the Department of Art History. First day."
"Ah yes, the smug-snake pit." Dorian snipped, rolling his eyes. "Ah, I mean. There are some nice people there...no offense."
"No," Ellana sighed, she wasn't sure how much to confide in someone she had just met on the street, even if her instincts told her she could trust Dorian. "It's been a long first day, and I'm afraid that having an elven colleague is a little unsettling to some."
"Yes, I can sympathize, as you can imagine, a Tevinter colleague, one whose father is in the magisterium, had some similar reactions."
"That's kind of you," Ellana mused, sipping on her coffee. "What department do you teach in?"
"Studio Arts."
"Ah," Ellana breathed, looking up-and-down at Dorian's outfit again. It made more sense to her now.
"You are a wonder." Dorian busted out. "You simply must have a glass of wine with me tonight. I know the best little hole-in-the-wall spot down the street that serves real slices of Tevinter pizza. Not this Orlesian shit they dream up with…"
Ellana's face fell. There was nothing more, at the moment, then she wanted than to get to know Dorian more-and have an authentic slice with a glass of red wine-but she knew that her bank account wouldn't survive such an expense.
"Thank you-I'd love it too. Perhaps next week? I can give you my phone number-and."
"Ah, next week after you get your first paycheck," Dorian said knowingly. "Please, let me treat you. It is the least I can do after I said such obscene things in your presence. Don't know why you didn't run off immediately."
"I couldn't impose, certainly next-"
"There is one condition," Dorian said with a wink. "You must speak in Tevene the entire time. You'd be doing me a favor. No one here, even the ones that major in it, speak it as well as you."
"I think I can manage that, "Ellana said with a grin.
She was happy to have at least one bright spot in her day. She had a few regrets about the last twenty-four hours and was worried that her dismal morning might not bode well for her future at the University of Orlais. It felt kismet to find a friend so easily after such a slog. Perhaps things would turn out ok yet. She thought to herself, gathering up her bags and following Dorian's rapid steps through the quad as he exuberantly caught her up on all the necessary gossip. All in Tevene, of course.