Chapter Four: Dinner
Fiona runs me through a few more tests before concluding I don't need much training, and I'm deemed ready to go on missions when called upon. I, in turn, agree to talk to her more about dragon magic in the near future. All three members of my escort are smiling at me when I return to the upper balcony.
"Well, gentlemen, how was the show?" I ask, joining them.
Declan's face lights up. "You were wonderful, my dear!" He moves closer and reaches out, as though to hug me, but Hawke cuts him off, reaching me first. Garrett towers over me. I may be well below average height for modern humans, but I've always enjoyed my size. It makes reaching high shelves a bit of a challenge, but I find it hilarious when people underestimate me because I'm small. Still, standing next to Hawke makes me feel even smaller.
"Not bad, little apostate. I'd like to hear more about how you learned all that. I mean, I had my father growing up, but even I don't have the kind of practiced form that you do."
"My family traveled around a lot, my three brothers and I. We practiced together and we met a lot of mages during our journeys that taught us all kinds of things," I tell him, keeping my response vague.
"So about dinner," Declan interrupts. "We'll be meeting in about an hour at my table in the main hall."
"Oh," I say, remembering, "I already agreed to eat with Maeven, my friend who came here with me. I think she's working with Mother Giselle."
"But you said you would come," Declan pushes.
"Technically, she didn't," interjects Varric. "She never actually answered you."
"He's right," Garrett confirmed. "We just sort of changed topics."
"So bring your friend, then," Declan offers, undeterred.
"Okay, but I'm sitting next to Varric," I assert. "He did ask first."
Varric guffaws next to me. I grin at him. I think I'm going to like it here.
Once we reach the main hall of the keep again, I'm pretty sure I know how to find my way back to my quarters, so I say my goodbyes and head back to change for dinner. I know I'm dining in the company of the Inquisitor, but I remember him telling me to call him by his first name. I decide I don't want to overdo it, so I stick to a simple purple dress. I think of Dorian and his fondness for the color. Guess maybe I'm a little curious, too. Meeting the members of the Inquisition has not been what I expected so far, but it's giving me more hope that perhaps they will be reasonable about the dragons.
I return to the hall and find I've been saved a seat between Varric and Maeven. Declan, of course, has managed to make sure he's seated directly across from me, but as I approach, I can tell he's already charming young Maeven. He leans in close to say something to her, and I see her cover her mouth and giggle.
"I think you had it right, Varric," I say as I step up behind my chair and slide it out before anyone can get up to do it for me. "He is incurable."
That gets me another cheeky grin from Varric. "Yep, hopeless. Glad you could make it."
"Ferox," Maeven says, smiling up at me. "You're here for less than a day and already making powerful friends." She shakes her head. "I don't know how you do it."
"Unrelenting sarcasm and dumb luck, apparently," I answer with a small laugh. I sit down and scoot my chair in. Declan had been half out of his own chair and looks a little disappointed, but settles back into his seat.
"Evening, gentlemen," I say in greeting.
There are several people seated at the table around me. Next to the Inquisitor is Garrett Hawke, who nods his head to me, the corners of his lips turning upward. I see that Dorian has joined us, as well, and he crooks an eyebrow at me, moving his hands down his torso in a gesture that I interpret as noting my color choice for this evening. I give him a little shrug. "My apologies, I wore shoes, not boots. You have to give me a little more warning if you want me to be prepared to quake in them." I'm rewarded with a smile that reaches his eyes.
The table isn't a large one, surprisingly, housing only seven. I would think that the Inquisitor would have had a lot of people wanting to dine with him. I suppose he likes to keep it small, or maybe he rotates who eats with him? There are two others that are unfamiliar to me, both women, and both fashionable, although in different ways.
The first is short, although not as short as I am. She is dressed in a frilly blouse and skirt, her hair pulled back with controlled ringlets framing her face. The word controlled seems to fit her overall, actually.
The second seems to have a cool demeanor, as well. She is tall and slender, and dressed in a way that I can tell she can only be from Orlais. She wears her hair cropped close to her head, unusual for a woman, but it suits her very well, especially with the lovely dark tones of her skin.
I introduce myself to both of them. The frilly-bloused woman speaks up first.
"I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador for the Inquisition. I heard about your display earlier. Fiona was quite impressed with you, or so I'm told," she states.
"I think we all heard it, my dear," says the tall woman. "It was so noisy, we could hardly not." I would have thought the last was a bit of an insult, but she looks at me sweetly. Ah, someone used to high society. I've never been very good with that sort. She continues, "I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."
I have no idea what to say to that, so I just give a small nod. "A pleasure. I'm Ferox, new member of the Inquisition."
I reach for my wine and take a sip. It's very sweet - almost a little too sweet, and I set it back down. The table is quiet for a second after the introductions, but Garrett is the next to break the silence.
"I must say, I was a little surprised when you told Fiona you were an expert on dragons. I thought maybe you were joking, but you weren't teasing about your other abilities. Now I need to know more about what you meant."
I smile. Here's my chance to get started. "What do you already know about dragons, Garrett?"
"I fought a few outside Kirkwall. One was a high dragon. It had attacked miners at a place called the Bone Pit," he begins.
"Yeah," Varric adds. "That was a pretty nasty fight. I wasn't sure Bianca and I were going to make it through that one."
"Bianca?" I inquire.
Hawke laughs. "It's the name of his crossbow."
I tilt my head and look at Varric curiously. "That beautiful piece of weaponry deserves a good name, but Bianca? Tell me there's a story."
"Yeah, but it's the one story-" Varric begins.
"-that he'll never tell," finishes Garrett, cutting him off. Both of them chuckle. "I've been trying to get that particular tale out of him for years."
"Don't get any ideas. Bianca only has eyes for me," he jokes.
I shift my gaze back and forth between Varric and Hawke. "It's clear the two of you are good friends."
"The best," Garrett answers, then changes the subject again. "So we fought that dragon at the mine. Varric's right, it was vicious. It spouted fire, but I didn't get any sense that it was magic. You're the first I've ever heard say anything about dragon magic."
"Dragon magic?" queries Vivienne. "The Circle doesn't know of it, either, if it exists."
"It exists alright, but I'm not surprised; it's not a common area of study," I admit. "As I said before, my family traveled a lot. Part of that was to be able to study dragons up close. Dragons are inherently magic. Even the low dragonlings have a small bit of it. But it grows as they age."
Varric frowns. He seems troubled. "Funny enough, I have heard about this before," he admits.
Vivienne's smug expression changes into curiosity. "Do tell," she chimes in.
I watch him carefully. Varric knows about dragon magic?
"Years ago, I ended up tagging along with an old friend on a mission that was supposed to make us rich. We ended up confronting a Witch of the Wilds who talked about dragons, and their magic."
"One of Flemeth's daughters?" I ask hesitantly, careful not to mention her true name. I'd called her friend, once. She'd gotten close enough with us to learn some of the secrets about dragons. She even learned to take the form of one of them, herself. But she too, had gone missing when the Veil went up. I'd learned a little of her involvement with recent events by looking in the Watcher's Well, but I didn't know any of her other daughters had lived.
"That's what she claimed to be, anyway," he continues. "She claimed the blood of dragons is magical." He seems lost in the memory. I wonder what he's not saying.
"Not just the blood, but yes."
"Ferox, are we talking about blood magic?" Hawke asked me, a mild look of disgust on his face.
"No," I reassure him with a shake of my head. "What I do doesn't require blood magic, although I'm sure there are those who have tried such things. My goal is to preserve the dragons, alive and whole, especially those of high status or above. To keep their magic in the world."
"What's above a high dragon?" Declan asked, fascinated. "We've seen a few high dragons, but I wouldn't even know what else would be above that."
"There are elder dragons, and finally the ones that some in Tevinter use to believe were divine, the ancient dragons."
"Archdemons, you mean," interjected Vivienne.
"No, I know what I said," I correct her. "ancient dragons are just that, dragons. They don't become Archemons until the darkspawn find them and manage to infect them with the Taint. Dragons have a strong resistance, and the ancient ones even more, so it's a more lengthy process than you would think. But because of the magic that they absorb and grow within themselves, when they die, it destabilizes the world. That's the reason I came here. The Inquisition must stop hunting high dragons."
My announcement is met with silence, and then laughter. Not the reaction I was expecting from the way the conversations had been going.
"I'm serious!"
They laugh even harder. Why did I ever think that they would listen? They're ignorant humans, incapable of understanding the reality of things when it's staring them in the face.
My chair slides back violently as I stand. I slam my hands down on the table, nearly toppling the wine goblet in front of me. "You can't avoid the truth forever; you will see that I'm right. The next time the Inquisition goes after a dragon, I want to be there. I'll show you that I know what I'm talking about."
That quiets them. I notice that Varric hasn't laughed. He's looking at me with an expression of concern. What must he have gone through to listen when the others don't?
"Okay, Ferox," Declan concedes. "Next dragon, you're in. We're actually headed back to Crestwood soon. We need to find Hawke's friend, but we spotted a dragon there. The locals say it's been a menace to the people nearby, and has been making off with their herds."
"What is you plan to do, exactly, when you get there?" Garrett asks.
"Don't worry, all you have to do is stand back and watch," I tell him. He winces.
"This...this is really important to you, isn't it?" Maeven asked, finally speaking up.
"There's nothing more important. Let me know when I should be ready to leave for Crestwood."
I walk away from the table, realizing I never even ate my dinner. I feel a little foolish, but I'm just so angry at them.
My rage churns under the surface, threatening to appear, but I'm able to swallow it. Varric comes up to stand next to me.
"You alright?"
"I would be if I could get a real drink around this place."
"I can probably help you with that one," he replies.
"Ferox," Garrett says, joining us, a frown forming in his forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't listen before."
His apology makes me calmer. I can at least hear out the rest of what he has to say.
"Can I join you two?"
I nod.