The Coming Storm

By R2s Muse

Chapter Summary: Newly returned to Val Royeaux, Cassandra is disturbed by a midnight visitor.


Cassandra

The hot red wax pooling at the top of one candle welled up and finally dribbled off the edge, tracing a crinkled path down the side of the taper until it reached the floor and began to cool. Cassandra's golden eyes flicked to the adjacent candle where a second later its pool of wax did the same, losing the race against the first candle and the bet she'd mentally placed on it. She sighed and looked up at the towering figure of Andraste looming over her in the dim shadows near the ceiling.

Forgive me, My Lady, she thought to herself. No matter how long she tried, kneeling now in quiet contemplation for almost an hour in the darkened chapel, her mind would not quiet.

Unable to sleep, she had sought out the solace of the chapel. She wasn't sure if it was the storm raging outside or the tempest blowing through the Circle of Magi all across Thedas. She had returned to the Seekers of Truth headquarters in Val Royeaux as soon as she had heard about the mage rebellions. But since her return, no one had been able to give her the whole story, only a series of disturbing rumors that had come out of the White Spire over the last several months. While it was known that the head of their order, Lord Seeker Lambert, had taken control of the mage circle there, the reasons were a source of speculation. Stories of a serial killer at the Spire had been supplanted by wilder, more sinister rumors, murmurings of a cure for mage tranquility, gossip about dissent with the Divine, and whispers of mage insurrection. So far she'd only been able to confirm the last, but any one of these issues was sufficient cause for a sleepless night.

Another boom of thunder reverberated through the thick walls of the Seeker Stronghold. She looked back at the racing wax on the candles, two among a steady sea of lights arrayed at Andraste's stone feet. The tiny flames all bobbed in unison and then suddenly flickered sharply to one side.

A moment later there was a faint swish of air and she rolled to the side just in time to avoid the two long blades that had swung at her unprotected back. She leapt to her feet and drew her own dagger in one smooth motion. She only spared a second to regret that she had chosen to come to the chapel unarmed but for the useless belt knife in her hand.

She warily circled the dark, hooded figure that had slipped out of the shadows. The dual blades feinted toward her dagger hand, once, twice, but she wouldn't be caught unawares again. Cassandra deliberately dropped her guard and as the blades struck out at her, she blocked them with a forearm and then swiftly kneed her assailant in the midsection, forcing a satisfying rush of air out of the figure's lungs. Cassandra followed with a sweep of her leg that knocked the attacker flat. She fell forward atop her foe, using the weight of her body to carry her down for a powerful thrust with her dagger toward the unprotected throat, and stopped just short of drawing blood.

"Nicely done, my dear," said a warm, Orlesian-accented voice. The figure's hood had fallen back to reveal a woman with slightly wet, short red hair and limpid blue eyes that smiled at Cassandra. Cassandra withdrew her dagger and gave the woman a hand up.

"Leliana," Cassandra replied, hardly surprised. She glanced up again at Andraste. "I suppose I should thank you. You succeeded in calming my mind where meditation sadly could not."

"I thought as much," Leliana said, eyes twinkling drolly. "You have never been one for silent contemplation, Cassandra. You are a woman of action. Give yourself more credit."

Cassandra frowned, rubbing the back of her neck, which was left bare by her short-cropped black hair. "There is no credit to be had. Whether in peace or in war, we must always be vigilant."

"Byron would be proud."

Cassandra's lips curved ever so slightly at the praise. Indeed, she did hope that her mentor Byron would be proud of the Seeker she'd become in the years since he'd died, and it irked her that Leliana knew her so well. But she also knew her friend's habits. As a master bard, Leliana played games within games, manipulating and prodding almost without conscious thought anymore. Mention of Cassandra's childhood mentor could only mean one thing: Leliana wanted something.

"What brings you to the Stronghold on such a dark and stormy night?"

"I heard that you had returned. Can I not drop in on an old friend just to say hello?"

"No."

Leliana's lips turned down into a small moue of disappointment. "You wound me, Cassandra."

Reluctantly, Cassandra smiled. "Leliana, you speak with a forked tongue now. Do I talk to my friend or to Divine Justinia?" In the years since Leliana's ascendance as the Divine's hand, one could never be sure.

Leliana gave a trill of laughter. "Perhaps it is even both." She became serious. "I come with news. And a request for the Right Hand of the Divine." Cassandra's eyes narrowed suspiciously. While Leliana's title as the Divine's hand meant she was Justinia's spymaster, body guard and confidant, Cassandra's title was merely honorary, as powerless as the former Divine who had bestowed it upon her eighteen years ago.

"Go on."

Leliana glanced around the chapel as she spoke, clasping her hands behind her back. "It is no wonder you could not sleep tonight. The world changes." She turned back at Cassandra. "The Lord Seeker has broken the Nevarran Accord."

"What?" Cassandra gasped. "Impossible! The Seeker's Council was not informed!"

"Nevertheless, it is done. The Seekers of Truth and the Templar Order no longer serve the Chantry."

"When? How?" As a high level counselor, she should have been involved and, at the very least, notified. The Lord Seeker technically would be within his rights to act unilaterally, but such a thing was unprecedented. Even with the Seekers' loose organizational structure there were traditions and protocols to be maintained, particularly with something of this magnitude.

"Tonight. It was ratified by all fifteen Knight-Commanders."

"All fifteen? There was no dissent?"

"I understand that it was unanimous," Leliana said evenly. "With the support of the Knight-Commanders, the vote is now binding and Lambert is already on the move. The templar host marches on Andoral's Reach where the mages have gathered. It is war."

Cassandra began to pace. And plan. "In the morning, I will convene the Council. We can still heal this rift. This is not the end, I promise you."

"Cassandra, I did not come to try to patch a broken system. The split with the Chantry was inevitable."

"Nonsense. Lambert is only one man."

"But is his militant view of the mage threat so uncommon? Among the templar commanders? Among the Seekers of Truth?" Cassandra pursed her lips, unable to deny it, as Leliana well knew. "The problems are deeper than one man's prejudices."

"What are you suggesting? That I do nothing?" Cassandra asked, her tone becoming harsh in her incredulity. "That I allow Lambert to destroy the institutions that have served us for centuries?"

Leliana's lips twitched and her eyes lit up as if at some private joke. "Perhaps. If that is what we need in order to build stronger ones."

"You can't be serious?" Cassandra demanded.

"The current system has failed us. Kirkwall. The White Spire. Only the latest symptoms, illustrating that the Circle of Magi no longer works as intended. The College of Magi provides only the illusion of mage self-governance. The absolute power of the templars is routinely abused. We may have an opportunity here for a fresh start. A better path."

Cassandra stilled, the import of Leliana's words filling her with dread. She searched her friend's face, but it revealed nothing the spy did not wish to be seen. "So is it true, then?" Cassandra said softly. "Did the Divine aid the mages in their rebellion at the White Spire? Is that why Lambert broke the Accord?"

Leliana pursed her lips and then admitted, "There was a fundamental difference of opinion."

Cassandra's mind spun, trying to map out the many ramifications of this move, unable to see their end. She paced a few steps. "So if you don't want me to try to restore the military arm of the Chantry, then what do you want from me?"

"The storm we have feared is upon us, casting all into darkness. Now more than ever, the Chantry needs the faithful. The lights in the shadow."

Cassandra grimaced at Leliana's co-optation of the Chant of Light, manipulating her with a quote from Benedictions that spoke to the heart of Cassandra's duty to the Maker.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
Blessed are the righteous. The lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written.

With the Accord broken and the Order at odds with the Divine, it was dangerous for Cassandra even to speak with Leliana. But the bard was asking for much more than that. She was asking Cassandra to betray the Order by continuing to serve the Chantry, courting treason or worse.

Leliana watched her intently, waiting for her response, so Cassandra carefully schooled her expression. She stepped away, her gaze returning to the flickering candlelight spilling on the chapel's dais and then up into the shadows that softened the stone features of Andraste's face. Outside of the rituals and legends that surrounded her, Andraste had once been a woman, fighting for what was right. Abused by the mages of Tevinter and then betrayed by those closest to her, she had died before seeing any of the deeds and misdeeds that would be committed in her name over the centuries. What would Andraste think of the Circle as it stood today? Perhaps this was their chance to create something better.

She turned back to Leliana and crossed her arm across her chest, holding her fist to her heart. "How may I serve Her Perfection?"

Leliana smiled only briefly, but her eyes glowed with pleasure. "We must stop the war at all costs. If we stay this course, allowing the templars and mages to come to blows, we risk pitting all of Thedas against the mages and a return of the dark times before the Circle. That will leave us little goodwill upon which to build a new path for the mages in Thedas."

Cassandra nodded. "So, what do you propose?"

"The Chantry has little influence now with the templars and the mages. But, there are those who do. If we can enlist their help, we may be able to avert the war before it goes too far." Leliana moved into the shadows near the door to the chapel. She retrieved a satchel Cassandra hadn't noticed until now and returned. Leliana withdrew from it a heavy leather-bound tome with the Seeker of Truth symbol embossed on its cover and faded with time. "You recognize it, no?"

"Of course." Divine Beatrix had first given her the book eighteen years ago, after rewarding her for her role in thwarting a blood mage's assassination plot. While the honorary titles Cassandra had received that day were only symbolic, the sharing of the book had been a rare gift. It was a compendium of priceless intelligence collected by the Seekers on the Circle, heads of state, political intrigues, in Val Royeaux and beyond. Beatrix had asked her to contribute her knowledge to it, ensuring there was a record of everything she had experienced during the blood mage plot. It had been in preparation for the "storm" that was coming, Beatrix had said. Cassandra had added her account to the tome and returned it to the Divine. That had been the last she had seen of it until now.

"We need information, and we need it quickly," Leliana said. "We are looking for someone." She set the book down on a nearby table with an ominous thud. "How much do you know about the Champion of Kirkwall . . .?"


A/N: I hadn't planned on continuing this story, but a friend asked for a Cassandra story (thanks, Danny!) and suddenly it seemed only natural to explore what Cassandra was doing that fateful night. There's a small chance of a third installment.

A/N 2: Third installment has turned into two more chapters and a proper finish. Stand by!