AN: Velasco's gut instinct after waking up from a mini-coma is to commit crimes. her two new dads need to recognize that
Chapter six - Super Sneaky Spies
Breaking into the spymasters room was easier than she thought. Velasco gently eased herself onto Leliana's desk with a practiced grace, eyes darting around the room for any sign of her gear.
Solas followed behind her. There was a fluidity in the way the older elf moved, and he handled himself with a sharp jerking motion, as if to make his displeased thoughts known with the simple way in which he got down off the desk. He still thought this plan was foolish. "Close the door before anyone notices."
Varric let out a curse, watching them from the window as he awkwardly tried to squeeze through.
"Che palle." Velasco shot solas a dirty look, already having moved across the office to close the door. "This isn't the first time I've had to do this. It's like child's play by now."
"So I see," he said, betraying nothing as he looked down at her.
Grumpy old man. Velasco turned and started unlatching chests and cabinets.
When Varric finally fell through the window with an inglorious crash they froze, the heavy thump ringing in their heads as they waited for a sign that said someone had heard. Solas and Velasco shared a look of understanding that, if caught, they'd definitely be thrown in a cell, but nobody came through the door and all was silent.
"Let's just get this done and get out of here," she hissed, keeping her footsteps light as she krept through the room, turning over papers and chests.
"And you're absolutely positive there's no other way to go about this," whispered Solas, watching her and putting in no effort to help. "Rather than, say, asking?"
"I'm fine by the way, don't worry about me." Varric pulled himself up dusted himself off. He took three steps and then froze, both elves glaring at him like he reopened the breach. "What?"
"Must you walk so loudly?" Solas murmured at the same time Velasco brought a finger up to her mouth and said 'shhhh!'
"I ' must' walk at some point, so-" he took an exaggerated step and waved his fingers. "Next time we do some breaking an entering, i'll bring my super sneaky elf shoes instead of the ones I have on now. We can match , baldy."
"I'm afraid your feet will get very cold then," Velasco smirked, looking down at solas's toes.
He didn't even seem to care about the shoe thing, staring down at Varric with a pinched expression on his face. "Its shaved. I'm not bald."
"That sounds like an excuse a bald person would say," Velasco murmured, also earning herself a sharp look.
"I can grow hair anytime I want." Velasco let out a quiet snort. Solas closed his eyes and gestured for her to keep rifling through the office. "Nevermind. We are not having this conversation right now."
She searched the room from top to bottom, emptying out boxes of papers and the rest of the desk, to no avail. Finally, quite frustrated with her lack of progress, Velasco ran a hand through her hair and huffed, glancing back at the door leading to the rest of the chantry. "It's not here."
"Then you're willing to see sense now?"
She vehemently shook her head and Solas sighed. "I have to know if anyone's made off with my things. An assassin is nothing without their gear- I'm nothing without it. I can't just wait around until Leliana feels like giving it back to me."
"I see…" he said thoughtfully, sharing a look with Varric. They seemed to be at an agreement. "Well, if that's the case…"
"Onto the spymaster's dungeon?" Velasco tiptoed over to the door and opened it just a tad, before giving the all-clear.
They spilled out into the hallway and Varric groaned to himself, following after the two of them as they passed intricately stone alcoves and pillars. The perfect hiding spot in case someone walked by. "The seeker's going to kill us when she finds out about this…"
"Why wait for Cassandra?" Leliana said, smiling at the three of them as she stepped out from the shadows. They immediately froze, caught in the act barely ten feet away from her office. Her smile grew catlike. "I see you've been having fun after your rest, Velasco. Unless you prefer going by Herald now…"
"I do not," she murmured, not quite meeting the spymaster's gaze.
"Do you prefer Mea, then?" Velasco's eyes snapped up to hers and Leliana laughed at her reaction. "It's a pretty name, I don't see why you don't use it more."
"That's none of your business," she shot back, hands clenched by her sides. Varric and Solas looked between them in confusion. Velasco took a step forward, her eyes hard as she looked down the woman in front of her. "So you looked through my things. I'd like to have them back now."
"All you had to do was ask," she said, smiling gently. She looked close to laughing again when Velasco's face fell.
She could feel Solas's eyes on her back as she shook her head. "Don't say-"
"Looks like he told you so." Velasco swore out loud and glared at Varric for filling in for him. "What? We were all thinking it."
Leliana shook her head and turned to walk down the hall. "Now, if you're quite done your breaking and entering, come with me to my office and you'll have your gear back."
Velasco stared at her and motioned behind them, to the room they had just come out of. "Um… that wasn't your office?"
"Maker, no." She looked back at them when Velasco swore again, louder this time, and raised an eyebrow. "Why would I keep my things in a room so easily accessible? You think you're the first spy trying to break in?"
"Nnnno…." Velasco ran a hand down her face and followed the spymaster, blushing despite her best efforts.
They walked in silence, much to the spymaster's amusement, and she could practically feel Varric and Solas's judging eyes on her back as they turned a corridor into the main hall of the chantry.
She could faintly hear the sound of singing and prayer from the clergy as they called on Andraste's name for strength and guidance. Something about the whole affair left a bad taste in Velasco's mouth. She kept her eyes on Leliana's back as they walked past so many people, staring, whispering, calling out her new title as if it meant something when it really didn't. It was when they neared a great golden statue of Andraste, reaching far up to the ceiling with all her glorious golden might, that they were finally stopped by the sounds of heavy clanking and the sounds of many footsteps.
"Leliana, there you are!"
The voice belonged to a curly haired soldier with a fur pelt around his shoulders and a lion emblazoned on his chest. His accent was Ferelden, but Velasco wondered if he had ties with Orlais—lions were kinda their whole thing. Either he was a very good spy, a very bad spy, or he was stupid. Either way, wearing the national emblem of Ferelden's sworn enemy took guts; she had to give him that . His men circled around him, panting, as if he had just pulled them out of their patrols and run through the entire camp.
"There's been reports of spies on the northern face of the camp and the Herald has been reported missing, I came as soon as I heard—" he looked down and blinked, catching sight of Velasco who was maybe-somewhat-hiding behind Leliana. "Oh! Good, she's here with you. I was worried we… well, nevermind. I'm glad you're feeling better, Herald."
"Again with that name!" Velasco turned to look at all the adults circled around her and shook her head. "Is this some sort of joke? Funny ha-ha, pretend your prisoner is the chosen one while she's asleep and see what she does when she wakes up? I'm telling you now—I don't have a sense of humor for that kind of thing. I'd really just prefer nobody call me anything at all. Better yet, everybody stop looking at me completely and leave me alone."
"Whoa —okay, um," commander Cullen pursed his lips, not sure if he should look at Velasco or Leliana or his soldiers, who were probably very much thinking they were being invaded by a legitimate threat instead of two elves prancing up on the side of a mountain. "I'm sorry for any misunderstanding there might have been—?"
"It's alright, Cullen, I've got this." Leliana turned and knelt down, so she was at an even level with Velasco's line of sight. To the side, Cullen dismissed his soldiers and told them all go back to their posts. "Would you prefer we talk somewhere else? With so many pairs of eyes watching...?"
"Yeah, okay, sure ," Velasco muttered, not at all happy that the spymaster felt like she had to talk down to her and make her feel comfortable when she still very much felt like a prisoner in Haven. "After you."
"The both of you are free to head back to your respective lodgings, if you wish," Leliana said to her companions as they walked towards the end of the grand hallway, passing by the statue of andrastate. "But you are free to join us."
"What do you say, kid?" Varric folded his head towards her as they walked side by side. "Want us to stick around?"
Solas made a similar remark but utterly remained neutral on staying or going. Velasco wasn't quite sure why they wanted to hang around her still—didn't get why they were being so friendly, but she shrugged her shoulders and said they could come if they wanted. She didn't really have great plans once they entered the room next to the war room—but the moment Leliana brought out a bundle of dark leather wrapped around a particularly familiar looking bow, all thoughts were wiped from her mind and she dashed forwards.
"My stuff!" She held the bundle like a baby in her arms, ignoring the looks shared between the adults and laid it out on the big desk in the middle of the room. For a moment, a brief flash of pure joy crossed her face, and then she started placing them all in a very familiar pattern.
It was a practiced ritual. They watched her as she worked, taking in her methodical checking of every object as she laid them out, starting with the bow and working her way out, with her old quiver and arrows.
They were worn from constant use, and she plucked her bowstring, frowning to herself when the sound came back awkward and warbled—in need of re-stringing as soon as possible. On the sides of both the bow and her quiver were intricately hand-carved doodles and designs. Her fingers traced the notches in the wood, lingering over the gentle curve of a feather, mirrored on her face and jaw, and then she set the bow down and continued on.
Her leather braces were next—tiny, to fit her arms. They were custom made but hand-me-downs from their previous owner, whose initials were scratched out and replaced with a harsh M.V. instead. Then came her boots, her belt, her knives (only seven, she had been on a stealth mission), her ugly leather chest piece that inhibited her more than it ever helped her—there were few documents and health tonics, a bag of poisonous herbs (still good for later) and a single silver arrow attached to a cord. She held it up and turned it over in her hands, relief pouring off her in waves, and then quickly looped it around her neck and tucked it into her shirt.
Solas watched her curiously, one eyebrow raised as she she started putting everything on—she tossed her old shoes to the side and slipped on the ones her master had given her, already feeling more like herself.
"That arrowhead is dalish make—no?"
She paused halfway through buckling on her arm brace. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The inscription," he started, gesturing for her to take her necklace out of her shirt and show him. She didn't. Both his eyebrows raised. "It has the mark of Mythal on it."
"I wouldn't know anything about that," she said shortly, strapping on the last of her armor (sans the leather chest piece). "The arrow belongs to the man who killed my parents."
Solas blinked at that, and Varric looked at her, confused. "Why do you keep it then?"
"I plan on giving it back someday." She slid the first, second and then the fourth knife into place, hiding them in theri holisers under her clothes and inside her bracers. Her mouth was set in a grim line. " Hard ."
The room was quiet, chillingly so, and Velasco tucked the last few of her belongings into her pockets before she turned to the door.
"Leaving so soon?" Asked Leliana, watching her by the door. Velasco nodded sharply. "Do you have a particular location in mind?"
"Home—Antiva, I don't know." Velasco moved to open the door but found it being blocked by the spymasters hand. "What?"
"Kid, you don't seriously think we could let you go running around in Thedas while there's demons around and a hole in the sky to deal with," Varric said very sympathetically, but all she heard was that they were still going to keep her as a prisoner. "How do you plan on getting there?"
"I could figure something out," she shot back, insulted that they didn't think she was capable of taking care of herself after she stopped an entire breach. "I got here somehow , it's not like-"
Her face fell, and she went silent. Leliana looked at her. "What is it?"
"Oh. I just..." she glaced off to the side, unsure whether or not if she should say anything. "You're…. right. I probably didn't come here alone."
She quickly pushed past her and opened the door, walking into the main hall. From the windows up above, she could just barely see the hint of green colouring the clouds. She brought up her hand with the mark and held it to her chest.
"You alright?" Varric stood next to her and watched as she rubbed her thumb painfully over the green embedded in her palm.
She had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke—her voice only a whisper. "Why can't I remember any of it…?"
"There are options, here, that you may explore if you wish to regain your memory." Solas looked down at her, sympathetic and guarded at the same time, careful in how he approached the topic. "If you truly wish to know, staying here would be your best option."
Velasco thought it over and let her hands fall to her sides. To their left the sounds of people arguing within the war room rose, and they could distinctly hear the sound of Cassandra's voice among them. Leliana purses her lips and took a tentative step towards the door.
"A topic for another time, perhaps. Herald, if you could join me for a moment please?"
Velasco looked back at Solas and Varric for a moment, before she sighed and followed her. "Only if you stop calling me that."
Leliana didn't answer and simply walked inside, holding the door open as Velasco stepped in.
In the centre of the war room table sat Varric's jar of jam, a haggard looking chancellor Roderick, a very angry looking Cassandra , and a confused, if anxious commander Cullen.
"Leliana, good, thank the maker-" commander Cullen rose from his chair and leaned forward, putting both palms on the table as he lorded over the jar, his eyes grave and his expression steely. "My suspicions have proven right. We've been invaded—my office has been broken into."
Leliana looked down at Velasco, a deeply amused expression on her face. "How dreadful. Herald, do you have anything to say about this?"
All eyes turned to her, and Velasco pursed her lips, hands hidden behind her back. They waited for her response, the room silent.
"I don't know," she said, avoiding looking at anything in particular. The jar of jam sat menacingly on the table. "Sounds quite serious to me."