a/n- Hello again. I finally have produced a chapter for your of which I am somewhat proud. Between excessive amounts of costuming and supply acquisition, I have managed to string together this chapter for your reading pleasure. Hopefully I will accomplish another as the week goes on. I believe I am will be able to get another out to you before I return to school and am swallowed up by the realities of the second half of the semester. Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy my next chapter. -Tabitha
The harbor of Val Royeux was filled with a wide array of boats in different styles, colors and functions. To Enya, it seemed unimaginable that such an elaborate place could exist. As their own ship glided over the crystalline, turquoise water she stood at its prow, hanging on to the rope that held tension on the staysail. Some fisherman stood at the dock unloading barrels of fish from their barge. One stumble and fell off the dock into the water. For a moment, Enya was worried that he would not resurface, but after few seconds, the man's head broke through the ripples next to his boat and his companion, laughing, helped him back onto the boat.
"Have ever been to Val Royeux before, Herald?"
Enya glanced back to Cassandra as the Seeker came to stand behind her with a thoughtful expression on her face.
Enya shook her head, "I have not. My clan travelled mostly in the Free Marches, sometimes in Nevarra, but never this far south," she paused and then gestured at her Vallaslin, "Orlesians are no the most accepting of the Dalish. Something we've had to learn through hard experience."
"Yes," Cassandra paused, "I suppose that is true," she leaned forward, her elbows pressing heavily into the wood of the railing, "Val Royeux is exceptionally beautiful, the seat of power for the Empire. As a Seeker of Truth and as the Right Hand of the Divine, my duties have lead me to spend much of my time here."
With a smile, Enya replied, "You must be happy to return."
"Not as much as you might expect," As Enya watched, Cassandra picked a sliver of wood off the railing and dropped it into the water before straightening and facing to her, "Much of Val Royeux is heavily steeped in the political turmoil of Orlais and the rest of Thedas. I cannot say I am overjoyed to return to such complicated matters."
Enya nodded, "I hadn't expected that you'd like politics."
"No, certainly not," The Seeker turned away, "But I digress. We have a mission and standing around talking will accomplish nothing."
Cassandra wandered away and Enya returned her attention to the docks for a moment as the crew of their ship pulled on thick, rough lines to moor them to the great, stone pillars that rose from the water.
The greenery that surrounded the harbor blew in the warm breeze that aided their docking as Enya stepped onto the cobbled street outside of the shipyard. Following level with Cassandra, she glanced around in wonder at the many vibrant hues of tints that adorned each building. At times her eyes watered with the array of colors that garnished the streets and stalls, others it was the aroma of spices that brough tears to her eyes. In either case she found that despite their wateriness, it was not hard to recognize the expressions of wariness or even fear that arose as they approached. When entering the gates of a grand bazaar, a woman passing woman in a mask actually faltered in her step upon her recognition and then ran.
"Well, I don't think our presence needs to be announced, Seeker," Varric commented.
Cassandra glanced at the dwarf, "Very astute Varric."
Enya caught the smirk as it crept onto Varric's face and nearly smiled herself. It was, however, odd that people would run from them simply because they were the Inquisition. The idea that people thought her guilty for the death of the Divine still pressed on her, a weight tied to her that she pulled behind her with each step.
An Inquistion scout ran up to them, not doubt one of Leliana's, "Seeker Pentaghast!" she called out, "Seeker Pentaghast," the young woman leader forward, her hands on her knees for a moment, "They are gathering in the market. The people have called Templars."
"Templars?" Solas spoke out and his voice was laced with unease that this new prospect.
Enya glanced to him, but he seemed far too focused on the scout to take comfort in her friendship.
"For what purpose?" Cassandra demanded her voice fiery.
The scout withdrew for a moment and Enya felt her heart stir in sympathy. She could still remember the intimidation Cassandra could produce with just a look and a few words.
"For their protection," the Scout panted, "From the Inquisition, my Lady. They have heard the Herald's name has whispered in the streets. They fear for their lives."
Cassandra's hands clenched at her sides. Enya felt frustration boil her blood as she stepped ahead of the scout to glance further into the city. The market at the end of the street teemed with dresses and doublets as a mass of onlookers gathered around some interesting spectacle.
"Thank you, Scout Enviers," The Seeker's voice broke her concentration, "Send word to Leliana that we have arrived."
"As you say, My Lady," Enviers looked to Enya, "Your worship."
Her hand clasped tightly over her chest, she bowed. Both Enya and Cassandra reciprocated the gesture. As they emerged from the long line of statues into the market, the roar of a gathering crowd overwhelmed them with the crows of parroting nobles and merchants. Their voices repeated cries of prices and echoed the calls of one voice that sounded above them all. The plumage of each skirt made it difficult to weave through the square until they were recognized. Then, like skin parting around the finely honed blade of a sword, the crowd opened to allow them admittance.
The Inquisition delegation moved toward the far end of the market. Enya strode just slightly ahead of her companions, the crawl of eyes on her skin like the legs of poisonous spiders, whose webs hoped to hinder her. She felt hesitation and reticence dragging at her feet but she held them at bay, her iron scale maille glimmering in the radiant Orlesian light. Their gaze was not so dissimilar to the inhabitants of Haven when she had first been lead from the Chantry dungeon into the light of the Breach.
"The Conclave left us without a Divine and we struggle to make sense of her death," A strong voice bearing a heavy accent rang out over the Market and echoed back off the blue and white spire that rose in the middle of the thoroughfare, "But the truth is she was struck down at the prime of her power. She would have brought peace to Thedas with her conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Now instead, we find the Conclave destroyed, the ashes no more and her killer walks free!" the woman took a break, her ravings more than satisfactorily stirring the tension of the crowd.
Long, black hair falling loose of its tie, Enya and her companions emerged from the crowd. Her fingers itched to grab the hilt of the weapon slung across her back, purely for the comfort it had come to provide her, but she refrained. The Chantry Mother standing on the stage were drawn to their well armoured party as they emerged from the crowd. Enya spotted the recognition in her eyes and a welling of triumph behind that as the woman's stance grew steadier.
"And where, you ask, is this killer, the murderer of the Divine. What judgment will follow the footsteps of this heinous heretic?" Her finger cast aspersion to the buckle of Enya's armour.
Enya stopped as the gaze of the crowd fell on her made hungry by the impassioned words of this Chantry honorary.
"Look no further," The revered mother's glacial eyes fell upon her, freezing her to the spot.
A person less used to such accusation might have flinched, but she had expected this kind of attack. Enya stood tall and returned the woman's gaze with eyes that blazed with a soft intensity.
"The so called Herald of Andraste, taking the name of our Maker's bride as her protection. Here she stands before us, claiming providence as her salvation but we say," she paused and the crowd drew close in this momentary silence, "This is a false prophet. Andraste's Herald would not be chosen from those of Elfkind"
Enya lifted her chin, hair falling away to reveal her ears proudly, "We came in peace, Revered Mother, yet this is how you greet us? I ask that we might sit together and speak on the matter of the Breach, deal with the threat to which it has exposed our world!"
"If you did not speak in lies then your words would carry more weight," her habit bobbed slightly with her words, "But alas, this is not true. You, Elf, come to us to spread deceit and falsehoods while we mourn the passing of our Most Holy," the seed of triumph in her eyes blossomed, "But we will not hear your words."
The cleric stepped back slightly, directing her captive audience to the arrival of the Templars. In lines of steel plate armour they marched across the market toward the throng of angered and confused onlookers. They parted and a man with a buttery face and pepper-grey hair stepped forward through their ranks to appear, smug faced and beady eyed at its head. Enya saw Cassandra stiffen in recognition out of the corner of her eye. The cleric who had greeted them bore a prideful expression that died under the influence of shock as a templar stepped onto the dias and struck her across the back of the neck. Enya saw pain stich tight the muscles over her lower eyelids as she dropped to the ground before the betrayer. She stepped forward toward the Cleric but it seemed that no one
"Lord Seeker Lucious, it is imperative that we speak with…" Cassandra took a couple steps toward the butter-faced man.
He sneered at her and the disdain in her eyes seemed to stop her stride, "You dare address me?" Lord Seeker Lucious' sneer grew, "You and your heretical movement, come here, hoisting among your ranks a puppet to play prophet. The survivor of the Conclave no less. You haven't the right to address anyone."
Cassandra stepped back, her mouth open in a combination of shock, anger and hurt. Enya held out a hand as the warrior went to speak, silencing her kinetic words. She turned to this new Seeker with accusatory eyes.
"You accuse us of treachery while you lead the Templars to attack a member of your Chantry," Enya paused to let her words sink in, "The Inquisition came here to talk. Instead we find you attacking the very clerics that came to you for protection," she gestured at the stage, "It makes me question the integrity of the Templars."
Lucius laughed, "The Chantry has failed. Without the Divine to lead them, they are all but a useless entity," he gestured broadly to the Templars that had followed him into the square, "We are above this political madness; we are called to a higher destiny, our destiny. All others are nothing but fantasy."
Enya stepped forward, a flare of fury blazing in her chest. She had not patience for men who felt they needed to blittle others, "Then you came purely to make it known that you no longer protect those who worship Andraste!"
"We serve a higher purpose. The Templars will no longer make their home in Val Royeux. By your very presence here, this city is lost," He leveled his eyes to stare down at her, "Templars! To me." He commanded.
Lord Seeker Lucius strode across the cobbles of the market place before the stage and gestured for the men to follow him. They did without question, all but for one young man whose pale eyes glimmered with indecision. He looked upon the Lord seeker with the expression one often expected of a young child understanding the folly of a drunkard for the first time. Enya, through her frustration, saw the placatory hand the other Templar placed on his shoulder and felt for him as he turned and followed with halting steps.
She watched, her arms leaden by a helpless lack of tension as Cassandra pushed forward, rushing to keep up with the man. Enya inferred that he must be a former mentor or leader in some way but the broken respect and desperation she saw distorting the Seeker's face.
"But Lord Seeker, you must…"
Seeker Lucius cast her a glare filled with fury that trapped the warrior's voice in her throat. As the party of Templars left the market place in stymied silence, Enya gazed after him. His reaction had seemed more than what it was as though there were some deeper hold in place that drove him beyond blind ambition. Given the respect Cassandra seemed to have had for him, he could not have always been so arrogant.
"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric commented as he wandered closer to Enya and Cassandra, "Just makes you think of warm fuzzy nug slippers and hot cocoa."
Cassandra turned, her face made blank by confusion, "I have known him for year, Herald," she addressed Enya directly, and the downturned curve of the corners of her lips pervaded every word she spoke, "Lord Seeker Lucius was not always the right, but he was never so outspoken, cruel and he would never leave his post."
Enya crossed her arms considering her impassioned statement. If that was true then her sense that something had been off was not wrong.
With command in her words she asked, "The man you knew, Cassandra, could he be a person with whom we might reason?"
"Unquestionably. He would have listened to our explanation, and he would have understood the meaning behind our cause."
Solas moved closer to them, coming to stand just behind Cassandra's shoulder, "Then we must assume that something is amiss."
Cassandra looked up at him and Enya was sure she saw the whisper of a smile twitch her face but it faded quickly, "We should not discuss this further here."
Enya nodded and led them out of the markets. Cassandra, still clearly shaken, brought up the rear and, to Enya's surprise, Varric hovered just ahead of her, casting a wary eye over the Seeker, though whether protective or fearful, she could not tell. Solas joined her in stride, his eyes dancing around the square of people in calculated fascination. The elven mage seemed equal parts preoccupied and disinterested in his surroundings, as though their presence was not the focus of his labored musings.
She sighed let out a rough breath between lips reddened by a day in the sun on the Waking Sea and rolled her shoulders. Cassandra might have been wounded by the day's events, but she, herself, was disheartened by them. The Inquisition had entrusted her with the task of winning at least some of the Chantry's faith back and instead she had borne witness to perhaps their greatest obstacle yet. Their path took them back the same way they had come, heading out the long, cobbled road.
"Inquisitor!"
The party stopped and turned toward the source of the voice. Enya was surprised to find that the full Orlesian voice belonged not to a human woman as she had expected but to an elven mage in ornate Chantry robes. She stood at the entrance to the markets and though she carried a definite air of power, there was uncertainty in her stance.
"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra's eyebrows climbed toward her short-cropped hair.
Enya too raised an eyebrow and retraced her steps a bit.
"Leader of the Mage Rebellion," Solas' eyes widened. Enya turned to look at him, "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"
Fiona shook her head, "The Templars have left Val Royeux. And I could not miss the chance to speak with the messengers of the Inquisition."
"You have heard of us then?" Cassandra responded.
Fiona stared through icy gold eyes at the Seeker, "It is hard to miss a Rebellion that boasts of an allegiance with the Herald of Andraste. Did you think you had done so quietly, Seeker Pentaghast?"
"I merely was told that our efforts had gone unnoticed by such causes as the Rebel Mages or the Templars," Cassandra's response carried a bitter edge.
Fiona's face remained expressionless as she considered them, "We cannot all be concerned with the actions of a small rebellion on the border of Ferelden and Orlais. We Mages fight for our freedom to choose our fates. Even headed by the Right and Left Hand of the Divine, we could not be sure your Inquisition was driven by intentions with which we agree," The Grand Enchanter fixed her gaze on Enya.
"And I suppose that you must feel our cause is just then, Grand Enchanter?" Enya replied.
Fiona considered her, head cocked slightly to the side and then stated, "Consider this your invitation to Redcliffe, Herald," She paused and then bowed her head, "I am afraid I must leave you all. My time is short. The mages await your arrival."
With that, the blue robed woman bowed her head in farewell and left them standing there. The party shared a glance after her departure. They reinitiated their procession toward the harbor after a moment, falling back into more familiar rhythms of walking although Enya still kept the lead.
"That was…" Enya began and then trailed off, for she could not quite figure out how to describe their meeting with Grand Enchanter Fiona.
Solas finished for her, "an unexpected turn of events," he was silent for a few moments and then mused as they reached the docks, almost as though it were a complete afterthought, "Although this journey has thus far been ripe with the unexpected."
They boarded their ship as the sun reached its perigee and then sailed away from it, back to the East. Enya settled again into her spot by the prow though the grey horizon held only the darkness of responsibility that loomed like a thunderhead over her. Her words that day had made little difference, though it was heartening that she did manage to garner some respect from the Mages of the Rebellion holed up in Redcliffe Castle.