****Happy birthday to me! This week was my brithday and I am passing the presents on to you! This week you get TWO chapters of Old Gods! Oh yeah! *Happy dance*****
Part 11
Inquisitor's Day
Astlyr was on the roof of the privy putting on shingles. A few weeks of recovering from her injuries had made the qunari a little stir crazy, and her inability to help in the efforts to make Skyhold more liveable had driven her to take on any building task she could find.
Her men were pleasantly surprised to find her a skilled builder with some knowledge of carpentry. Her father had taught her how to keep their little cabin in repair, and she had even helped helped him construct a small byre for their goats when she was thirteen. She was careful to use her right arm more than her left, for though the breaks were healing, thanks in no small part to the skill of Vivienne and the other healer mages, it still twinged. Audra tutted any time she caught sight of Astlyr lifting or carrying with her bad arm.
Astlyr sat back, straddling the peak of the roof with a leg on either side. She tilted her head to the winter sun, exhaling a cloud of steamy breath. Though it was a cold day, she was warm from her exertions. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, more to clear away strands of her hair than sweat. She was about ready to break for lunch. She planned to take a meal down to the infirmary and eat with Iron Bull. He was the only one still there, his injuries having been the worst. He loathed being stuck there, but the healers insisted. Dorian and Cassandra, who had also been seriously hurt, made certain to check in with Audra at least twice a day for bandage changes and examinations.
Astlyr hooked the hammer she had been using into a loop on her belt and moved to climb down the ladder. Below her the other workers were shoring up a wall of the privy which had begun fall apart due to moisture freezing between the stones. Astlyr squinted as she caught sight of two figures moving through the snowy yard not far from her. Myfanwy and Fen'Harel, both dressing in long, green winter cloaks, were out for their daily walk. Astlyr checked again and spotted the mage and templar that were guarding the 'god' for the day, standing back and chatting with one another. While Fan'Harel was usually kept locked in his rooms, he was allowed out once per day to get some supervised fresh air.
She watched him for a moment. He had not visited her dreams since he had woken. She no longer dreamed of friendly wolves in a green landscape. Last night she had been flying. The night before she had walked into an important war room briefing without any pants, and for some reason there was a talking nug that laughed at her. It was nice to have ordinary dreams again, but part of her missed her canine companion.
Astlyr climbed down from the roof, her leg still a bit stiff. She wondered if the muscle would ever fully recover. The cold weather did not please it, this was certain. She had a new scar on her thigh as well. Even the healers had been unable to completely close the wide gash. Astlyr did not mind, if only it would stop throbbing on chilly days. She set down her tools in a waiting bucket, saying her brief goodbyes to the other workers she moved to join the two elves.
"Good day," she greeted Fen'Harel with an upraised hand.
He smiled at her and she found herself envisioning Solas' face for a fleeting moment. The way Fen'Harel's smile reached his eyes was the same, even on a new face. Myfanwy nodded to Astlyr, also smiling her greeting. The elven woman was never far from her lord's side. "I see you are busy as ever," Myfanwy gestured to the roof which now sported a perfect scaling of new shingles.
"Now no one will have to worry about being snowed on while they piss," Astlyr said, planting her hands on her hips and giving her work a pleased once-over.
She heard Fen'Harel chuckle, which made her own smile broaden. "Important work," the man agreed.
"How have you been finding your stay here at Skyhold?" she asked, aware that her tone had grown overly formal. She still hadn't decided how to hold a conversation with this stranger who wasn't a stranger.
Fen'Harel dipped his head, "I am enjoying the improvements since the last time I was here. I do miss my office, however. I miss studying."
It took Astlyr a moment to understand. The round room, with its painted walls, had become temporary housing for several refugees which they had taken in. Her memory cast back to seeing her elven companion, Solas, in that room, bent over his work, a crease of concentration forming between his eyes. Then how that look would smooth with calm pleasure when she would come to visit him. She winced inwardly. It would be a lie to say she did not still miss Solas, even though she knew she would never get him back the way he was. She looked at the man before her. Dark curls spilling from beneath the green hood he wore. He was actually a bit taller than Solas. "Perhaps we could get you a few things that would allow you to continue your studies. What were you researching?"
"Skyhold," he said, a smile turning the corner of his mouth upward. "I believe I may have told you that this is an elven place. From a very long time ago, before The People were enslaved or forced to live on the run. When it was built it was believed by the elves that it allowed them to touch the sky. It put them in closer contact with us...their gods," he clarified at Astlyr's look. "I do not know much of Skyhold when I first came, save its location, but I was attempting to research more. Perhaps something could aid us in our various endeavors here, as it seems to have become our home."
Astlyr flinched at the words 'our home'. Certainly she loved Skyhold, and the more she helped rebuild it, the greater her sense of ownership grew. But there was still a part of her, and perhaps there always would be, that longed for the simpler life she had known. That ached for little cabins on a hillside, or traveling with a mercenary band. "Well, perhaps we could give you some resources. Let your guards or Myfanwy know what you need and we'll see about acquiring it for you." She said.
"Thank you," he bowed slightly. He moved with the same gentle grace that Solas always had. Astlyr might have thought this an elven trait, has she not seen Sera spectacularly trip over her own feet from time to time. The thought of Sera made Astlyr's heart twinge. She had not seen the elvish rogue since she had stormed out of the infirmary several weeks before. Her room in the tavern had been cleared out and someone else was renting it now.
"Astlyr," Fen'Harel asked in a lower tone, indicating with his eyes that he wished to step away from Myfanwy to speak to her.
"What is it?" she asked, allowing them to move out of easy hearing of the others.
"Is the mage, Morrigan, still here at Skyhold?"
"At times," Astlyr said. "She comes and goes as she pleases, but uses Skyhold as a base of operations."
Fen'Harel looked tense, his eyes flicking to look around as though he expected to be attacked at any moment. "How much does she know of me?"
"She saw you when you were sleeping, and knows what you claim to be. Like most of us, she is suspicious of your godhood, but much less so than some of our number. Possibly because she drank from the Well of Sorrows and has a better idea of whether the elven gods actually exist. No offense meant," she added.
Fen'Harel pulled off his hood, freeing messy curls and letting the sun caress his pale features. The end of his nose was pinkish with cold, but Astlyr noticed that neither he nor Myfanwy wore any boots. Their bare toes seemed completely unbothered by the snow they trod in. Astlyr shook her head in admiration. Even as a qunari, and as such able to withstand harsher temperatures, (though she was more suited to heat than cold) she always kept her feet tucked into fur lined winter boots. She caught the concerned look on her elven companion's angular features. "What's wrong?"
"Morrigan. Do you recall what Abelas told us of the well when we reached it?"
Astlyr felt her skin prickle as Fen'Harel spoke as though he had been there, with her. It was still difficult to reconcile this new man as her old friend, and possibly a god all at the same time. Instead of lingering on this she tried to cast her mind back. The keeper of the well had told them that it was an artifact of Mythal. She felt her breath catch, "that whomever drank from the well would be bound to the will of Mythal."
"Has Morrigan displayed any unusual behavior as of late?" Fen'Harel asked, his eyes bright and intense in the naked winter sunlight. They were the same color as the cloudless sky they reflected as he looked up at her.
"No more than usual," Astlyr tried to quip, but her heart wasn't in it. Instead she was searching her memory for any sign of the woman acting differently. "No. I do not believe so," she shook her head. "Why didn't I think about this earlier."
"Likely because, until very recently, you thought the elven gods either a myth, or very detached from yourselves and your lives," he lowered his head again. Submissive, as a wolf might be to a pack leader. "I only ask that she be monitored. I have no idea who much control Mythal can exert over her, if any, from this distance. I also cannot tell if Mythal would have any interest in using such control. She is aware that you have me here, but may not even suspect that I am awake."
"She didn't seem to think you a threat when she saw you before," Astlyr pointed out.
Fen'Harel flinched, his lip curling in a wince, as though he had some memory of the visit, though he had been locked in his slumber. "If I am honest, I hope she does believe me still too weak to waken. As it is I am still very limited. I am grateful that the one called Daveth was a mage, but his abilities are very different from those of Solas, and I have little opportunity to practice them. I wouldn't wish to alarm my guards," he shot a wan glance at the mage and templar, who were still engaged in a lively conversation.
"How are you doing otherwise?" Astlyr questioned. "Are you still weakened by the whole dead bird incident?"
"I am,," he admitted. "Less so now that I am able to consume food and drink, but it may be some time before I am returned to my previous strength. Even in Solas' body I was not near what I could be. What I was in days of old." He looked almost ashamed. "You can hardly brag that the inquisition has a god in its ranks when the one you have is so pathetic. Not that you would brag of it," he smirked thinly.
Astlyr chuckled. "Perhaps some day, when we figure out what it is we think of you. Then we'll decide if we want to brag or not."
"Perhaps," he smiled, meeting her gaze again with more confidence this time. There was a hint of the old Solas in him. A proud bearing that would show itself from time to time. Astlyr found she was pleased to see it, when it was there.
"I will take your request into consideration," she said, formally, straightening and attempting to look more commanding.
"Thank you," Fen'Harel nodded to her and pulled his hood back up before moving to rejoin Myfanwy. He hesitated, glancing back at her, "Inquisitor."
"Yes?"
"I miss talking with you," he said, then he turned and walked on with his small company.
Astlyr moved on towards the door to the lower keep of Skyhold, considering the elf's words. Was Morrigan a danger? Could they keep an eye on her without her notice? What might she do if she found herself under suspicion. Astlyr decided she would have to ask her advisers about this as soon as possible.
She wished Lelianna was still with them. The shrewd spy master would tell Astlyr exactly what she needed to hear, whether she liked it or not. These days Cullen seemed less willing to give his opinion, though lately there had not been much to debate. When people came to Skyhold to petition for shelter, she, Cullen, and Josephine were almost always in agreement. Thus far everyone had been allowed entry. Still, small contingents of scruffy, malnourished country folk whose homes and fields had been destroyed in the time of rifts, came almost daily.
Astlyr knew Skyhold to be massive, with many rooms, but she wondered how long they could, or should, continue to take in refugees. In her last chat with the head cook Astlyr had been pleased to learn that their winter stores looked ready to hold out. Extra had been purchased all summer in anticipation of just such winter hardships. Astlyr could have hugged the short, round woman for her forethought, but the cook had seemed uneasy just to stand in the presence of the qunari inquisitor.
Astlyr had to walk through the kitchens on her way to the infirmary, and she nodded a greeting to the staff, who all bobbed their heads and whispered to one another. A small, youthful elven man hurried forward with a laden basket, "your lunch, my lady," he said, beaming. She noticed that his teeth were quite crooked, but this seemed to make his wide grin all the more endearing. She couldn't help but smile back as she thanked him.
On she walked, musing as she munched on a roll from the basket. It was still warm and filled with herbs. Eating it reminded of her warm little cottage growing up and she felt a little less insecure about Skyhold's possible troubles, if only for a few moments.
In the Infirmary she headed straight for Iron Bull's bed. Crem was seated there already, chatting with his leader in low tones. He looked up as Astlyr approached and gave her an encouraging smile. "Well, I'll leave you two to your alone time," the warrior said, pilfering a roll from the basket before leaving.
"Some kind of discipline you teach your men," Astlyr snarked as Crem paused near the door to hold an amiable conversation with Audra.
"I can't teach that one anything," Iron Bull smiled, watching his friend fondly.
Astlyr and Iron Bull ate and chatted for some time. She noticed he was making an effort to keep the conversation light. She felt she should not burden him with her worries about Morrigan when she could tell that something was bothering him. Finally, after yet another pointless back and forth about the best way to lay shingle, she looked him square in the face, meeting his good eye steadily, "Alright, Bull. I know something is on your mind. Why don't you just tell me?"
Iron Bull hesitated. Then, with a wince, she reached up to his chest, gently pulling something free from beneath the soft, cotton shirt he wore. It was the dragon tooth on its cord necklace. It dangled from his fingers, rotating slowly. "I have been thinking, Kadan..." he seemed more uncertain than she had ever seen him. She was used to confident, in-charge Iron Bull. His tone made her palms go clammy. "You and I, we were great together when you were facing Coryphius. I was the sort of boyfriend you needed. Someone to help you relieve tension in some fun and inventive ways between bouts of killing demons."
"You are more than that to me," Astlyr said, sensing where this was going and feeling a little as though the bed was about to drop out from under her. Still, she kept herself under control, her face impassive and steady. A stoney expression which had won her several hands of wicked grace.
"You are more than that to me too," he said, so earnestly that Astlyr believed him. "But I can tell that we're not perfect together any more. I'm not the man you need now. I'm not certain who is, but you are a different woman now."
"No," her brows came together, confused. "I'm not. I'm the same as I ever was."
"You're more careful. More...wise than you were. You need someone who can match your mind, as well as your strength," Iron Bull reached back with his free hand to unclasp his necklace. He held it towards her, a deep sadness in his eyes. "Give this to someone who fits who you have become."
Astlyr didn't take the tooth. The one she wore suddenly felt cold against her breastbone. Her throat was tight and she felt a deep sadness and even anger rising up in her. "Every time," she muttered, her voice low, dark. Iron Bull tilted his head, having not heard her clearly. "Every time," she repeated, louder. "Every man I have ever been with," she shook her head, trying to clear it. "They all make excuses to end it, but they always end it." Iron Bull looked so deeply saddened that she was having trouble keeping up her anger. She looked at her hands instead. "Most of the men I have been with were human," she admitted. "I think they all just wanted to brag to their mates that they bedded a qunari. I thought...I thought that you...that we..."
Iron Bull leaned towards her, though it obviously cause him pain, and cupped her chin in a gentle, calloused hand. "Ah, Kadan. You will never be a conquest in my mind! You are far far more than that. You are an astounding woman, and you deserve a worthy mate. I can never be what I know you truly want. I was raised in the qun. Relationships are different there. Some may last a lifetime, but it is rare. I think it is better to see that ours was great, but never meant to go on forever."
Astlyr considered for a long moment. It was true that her relationship with Iron Bull had been mostly a physical one. It had suited her well enough, truth be told, though admittedly his love making style could be a bit overwhelming at times. She had enjoyed it, but part of her did pull towards something else, though she didn't know exactly what. She shook her head. There was a lump in her chest like a hot stone. Even though she knew that Iron Bull was probably right about their relationship, she still hated this part. "If this is what you want," she said, her tone dull.
"I don't want this, no," Iron Bull said, his voice laden with apology, " but I know it is the right thing to do."
"Alright," she exhaled.
"And Boss," he said, resting his hand over hers on the bed, "I'm still with you until the end. If you need anything, hell, even if you just need a quick tumble, I'm here for you."
She laughed, though it was half choke, "I'll keep that in mind, Bull," she said, her voice throaty but still clear. Then she stood slowly and walked out of the infirmary without glancing back. Once in the quiet hallway she allowed herself a moment to mourn. A tight shaking of her shoulders as she held herself. No tears escaped. She seldom cried, even when she wanted to. Her sadness escaped soundlessly past parted lips and clenched jaws. Then she straightened, composed herself, and walked on. A hot anger still lurked somewhere inside her, but she was determined not to let it get the better of her.
Instead she made her way towards the main hall of Skyhold to see if Josie or Cullen had any news for her, and to tell them of her concerns over Morrigan. Without thinking she tucked Iron Bull's dragon tooth into a pocket. Perhaps she would give it to someone else one day. Someone who would never let it, or her, go.
The main hall was bustling, and she saw Josie and Cullen already standing at the head, in front of the throne. If Astlyr was honest she hated that chair of office. So overblown and spiky. It made her look like a ruthless dictator no matter how much she tried to seem friendly or wise. As a result she only sat on it when she was forced to pass judgment on a criminal. Then she didn't mind appearing to be an ass.
She made her way through the crowd to try to reach her two advisers on a dais. Peasants had come to Skyhold seeking shelter and aid. They were dressed it ratty winter attire and she grimaced when she saw that some had tied cloth around their feet as they had no boots. Skyhold and shelter and food, but Astlyer knew that clothing and fresh footwear were in short supply. A pity that none of them desperately needed swords, because Skyhold was bristling with weaponry. Keeping several skilled smiths had been important during a war, but now seemed a bit superfluous. Astlyr wondered how much a good cobbler would cost to have on staff.
Finally she made her way to the head of the crowd, greeting Cullen and Josephine with a nod. She turned, expecting to see a family of bedraggled peasants was next in line to petition for admittance.
Instead she found two well dressed men in full, maintained armor. Astlyr recognized the emblem on their tabbards as the crest of the royal family. Queen Anora and King Alistair. She had met the royal couple once, very briefly, and it had not been long enough to make an impression. She opened her mouth to speak to them, couldn't decide what she was expected to say, and decided to let the two men go first.
"Madam Inquisitor," one of the knights stepped forward, pressing his fist to his chest in salute. Astlyr and her two advisers returned the gesture. Then he raised his voice to a lofty and proud tone. "We are here as an honored envoy from their majesties. My name is Ser Roderick Miles and my companion is Ser Oswyn Sighard."
Josephine made a small noise of surprise and Astlyr turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "I am familiar with these men," The adviser clarified, dipping her head and riffling through the papers she had with her. "They are both members of Queen Anora's personal knights! For them to be acting as messengers-"
"Not messengers," the man called Ser Oswyn corrected. "Emissaries. We have been sent here by the queen herself to speak with the Inquisitor on a matter to which the queen would very much enjoy a prompt reply. May we retire to your private office to discuss this immediately?"
Astlyr gestured for the knight to stop speaking. She could tell both these men thought themselves quite important. She could also sense politics were about to be discussed, and she was never one for lengthy talks."All of these good people are here seeking my help," she gestured to the hall, full near to bursting. "I will aid them first, then I can give your matter my full attention."
"The queen's matter," the second night said in a hushed tone, as though he wasn't fully committed to correcting this intimidating woman.
She felt an odd gratification at the expressions of the two knights as they stepped back to wait, shifting in their fancy armor, which looked heavy to stand in for any length of time. Astlyr signaled someone to bring them some chairs, then turned her attention back to the other petitioners that filled the hall. A few families came forward and she offered them shelter and food in exchange for their work in whatever capacity they could find. Everyone agreed wholeheartedly.
The third group she saw surprised her. Rather than a another family of bedraggled peasants, three mages and a weary looking templar were standing at the base of the steps which led to the throne.
Two of the mages were women, the third a young man. The templar was youthful as well, Astlyr noticed, as she took in his bedraggled armor which didn't seem to have been made for him. He had chestnut red hair that was pulled back with a leather thong, though much of it had escaped and hung over his pale face. His expression reminded Astlyr strongly of a kicked puppy. Even as he pressed a fist to his chest, bowing respectfully to her and opening his mouth to speak, the mages had bustled past him and were talking over him.
"Herald!" one of the women spoke with a refined, if a bit overblown, accent, which Astlyr suspected she was putting on to seem more important. "I did not expect to speak with you in person! We are honored indeed!"
"Yes, it is the greatest honor to meet you, Herald!" the male mage squeaked. He was so young puberty didn't seem to have found its way to his voice yet. Astlyr bit back a chuckle as he tried to look dignified.
"A great honor," the third mage put in, as though afraid of being forgotten about.
Astlyr shot a glance towards her two advisers. Josie was managing to look serious and businesslike, but Cullen had a fist to his mouth, hiding a smile with a cough. He could not conceal the way mirth wrinkled the corners of his eyes.
"Greetings, friends," Astlyr said, giving them her best magnanimous expression, which probably looked strange on the face of a qunari, but she tried not to think about it. "What brings you to Skyhold?"
The templar moved forward slightly, trying to be seen behind the mages. He opened his mouth again, but once more he was drowned out by their chatter. "We are from the Cricle in Markham," the first mage explained. She was perhaps in her forties and her long straight hair was black as a raven's wing. Her eyes were likewise black, like twin stones set in a long face with prominent cheekbones.
The second mage had brown hair, which was braided up around her head, though many of the braids were falling loose, giving her the look of a neglected child even though she was likely at least thirty. She stepped forward, speaking immediately after her dark haired companion. "When you wisely ordered the circles disbanded and the mages freed, we at Markham celebrated," she explained, wringing her hands as though delivering hard news.
"You were pleased then?" Astlyr questioned, uncertain where this was going.
"Most of us were," the youngest mage spoke. His skin was darker, like red clay. A few tufts of what might one day be a beard sprouted pathetically on his weak chin. "There were some who were not pleased with your ruling,"
"Of course that is to be expected," Josephine said, as though this was old news.
"Some of our mages rebelled...against the rebellion," the first woman explained. "They became violent. Many of our templars sided with them."
"They attacked the rest of us," the young man said, shakily.
Astlyr flinched. She had worried that this might happen at some circles. Hadn't Vivienne warned her once of this very thing? That some mages might not wish to be 'freed'? Suddenly asked to live by their own choices when previously they had been safe and protected in the towers. Astlyr's jaw tightened. By the look of these four the trouble in Markham had not ended well. "What happened?" she asked anyhow.
"The Circle was destroyed. The tower is rubble," the second mage said, hanging her head.
"Maker's breath," Cullen exhaled, eyebrows raised.
"We, and a few other survivors, set out to find a new place to stay. We traveled the farthest, determined to reach Skyhold and see what awaited here," the first mage was speaking again, her put-on accent even thicker. Like dripping honey. "We had heard rumors in our travels of a new tower being constructed here, and we grew eager to see it, and perhaps be a part of it."
"Ours in not a Circle tower," Cullen stepped forward to explain. "It is more a college than anything. Mages there can study in safety. We do have templars on hand, but they do not rule over the mages, nor instruct their days. We will no longer steal children from their families, but instead encourage families and children to come to us together and to study and grow in their magic."
"That sounds idyllic," crooned the second woman, smiling. Astlyr noticed she had a wide gap between her front teeth.
"May we..." the templar managed to speak for the first time. His voice was hoarse and weary, "May we stay?"
He swayed on his feet and Astlyr moved without thinking to support him. Her motion sending the three mages scattering like chickens as though afraid she meant to maul them. "Are you hurt?" she asked the man, taking his arm to steady him. Cullen had moved forward as well, concern on his tough features.
Josephine waved a guard over, "fetch a healer up here!"
"No. I am fine," the young templar said, taking in the qunari woman who was helping him with wide, somewhat alarmed, pale blue eyes. "Just weary from the journey."
"Did you watch over these three the entire way?" Cullen asked, his voice soft.
The templar nodded, his shoulders sagging with obvious exhaustion. "Yes sir. It was a very long journey, sir." he seemed more comfortable addressing Cullen than Astlyr.
The three mages, for their part, hardly seemed concerned at their protector's condition. "Alright," Cullen's tone was soothing, "take it easy now, son. You made it. We'll get you all some food and shelter."
"Thank you, sir," the templar mumbled between cracked lips.
One of the healers appeared shortly, taking the young man's arm over his shoulder and nodded smartly to Astlyr, "I've got him, thank you ma'am."
"As to you three," Astlyr turned to the mages, who stood to the side, waiting none too patiently and occasionally speaking in low, hurried voices to one another. "We would be pleased to have you in our college. I will even personally show you around." She watched the expressions on their faces form confusion and even fear. Sometimes it was refreshing to be so intimidating. If anyone meant trouble, they often thought twice when they got a look at the inquisitor.
"Alright," said the first woman, timidly.
"Just let me finish up with these other petitioners and I will take you to the tower myself," Astlyr said. "In the mean time have a seat over there and someone will bring you food and drink," she gestured that some more chairs be brought so the mages could wait beside the queen's knights. The mages shuffled to the side, already nattering to one another. Astlyr turned to Cullen and give him an expressive eye roll, which she returned with a grin.
The rest of the petitioners were what Astlyr had expected. Villagers and peasants looking for a place to stay, at least over winter. She took to asking them what heir skills were, in hopes of finding a cobbler. No such luck, but she did encounter two wheelwrights, a farrier, and a cooper. Several of the women had skill with sewing, so Astlyr planned to put them to work making new clothes for the people sheltering there.
Feeling pleased with herself Astlyr turned to the impatiently waiting mages. "Are you ready?" she addressed them.
"Yes," they all stood and spoke as one. Astlyr shook her head. Mages were so odd.
One of the royal knights stood hurriedly, "Madam Inquisitor! What about our crucial matter from the queen?!"
"My diplomat, Josephine Montilyet, will take your information and relay it to me," she said, knowing that she would understand whatever these people had say to far better when Josie had vetted it and weeded out all the bullshit.
"But Madam Inquisitor-"
"Please, don't call me that," Astlyr groaned, waving them away with her hand as she imagined a queen might. "I have very important business to attend. It is not every day that we welcome three new mages into our ranks." This was true. Now that the war was over, the influx of magic users had slowed considerably, though today Atstlyr fully intended to use these newcomers as an excuse to avoid politics and posturing envoys. "Ambassador Montilyet has my full confidence. You may say anything to her that you would to me. She will take it in the strictest confidence."
Josie was watching Astlyr's face with a raised eyebrow. Though she did not look at all displeased with the arrangement. Astlyr knew her friend was extremely curious what these knights had to say, and also reveled in the chance to appear more important in the Inquisition. Astlyr was happy to give that to her, and to avoid an almost certainly boring talk at the same time. She turned to Cullen and her new mage friends. "Shall we? Oh, and Josie, we need to meet and talk after wards. I have something I need to discuss with my advisers."
"Very well," Josephine nodded respectfully and gestured that the disgruntled looking knights should follow her to her office.
Astlyr heard one of the men muttering about disrespect, and how the queen would certainly hear of it. The Inquisitor grinned. As her life went on, Astlyr was finding it more and more satisfying to be contrary.
She and Cullen led the new mages out of the great hall. At the top of the stairs down to the yard Astlyr hesitated, trying to not let out a snort of laughter. The two self-important queen's knights had not come alone. Their fully armored horses were standing in the yard, being held by well dressed pages. The page's mounts also stood by. There was even a war hound, adorned with shining battle armor. The beast lifted its square head to study the qunari and her party, then rested it back on its massive paws, dismissing her as a non-threat. She smiled. The dog may have been the only creature not to deem her dangerous at first glance.
The three mages chattered like birds on a window sill as they made their way to the tower. They admired Skyhold, and Astlyr. They asked her questions about being a qunari in Fereldan. About her family, and did she follow the qun? Astlyr did her best not to be annoyed. She wished that word would get around that she was Tal-vashoth so she would stop having to explain to people that she didn't want to collar and cut out the tongues of mages.
One of the women also set up a steady stream of flirtation with Cullen, which clearly made the man extremely uncomfortable and Astlyr had to try not to laugh. When he finally managed to dislodge his admirer for a few moments he snarled to Astlyr, "you owe me!" She chuckled at him and he glared icily.
Astlyr had not spent much time inside Skyhold's newest construction, the mage tower. It stood out impressively against the pale sky of the mountains. It was certainly smaller than most Circle towers. Not many of the mages of Skyhold kept up residence in the building. Rather it was used for study. Classrooms had been set up with special protective wards for the instruction of young, inexperienced mages. The few templars in the fortress were looked upon with a general goodwill rather than scorn or mistrust. They were all there because they had supported the mages in their bid for autonomy. They moved about freely in the tower, coming to the aid of the mages as needed. It was actually a very comfortable job, Cullen had commented ruefully.
The inside of the tower still had an unfinished look to some of the stones, and it smelled a bit too much like fresh, cold air in some places, where it had not been properly insulated before the snows. The fireplaces worked overtime to keep it heated, but as magical flame was always ready to hand, they did not use overmuch firewood.
The three newcomers stared around with wide eyes. For once seemingly struck dumb. A few senior mages, including Vivienne, greeted them. Astlyr couldn't tell if her elegant friend was pleased with the new additions, or if she wished the inquisition would stop taking in every person came to the door looking like an abandoned kitten. Perhaps a combination of both.
A quick tour was conducted, showing off classrooms and studies. A library was well on its way to being filled with a collection of tomes which seemed to be growing every day. Astlyr was impressed, which she freely admitted. The mages had already made several improvements to the place since the last time she had been there.
As she walked about, hands clasped loosely behind her back, enjoying the place, even if the crackle of magic around her did set her teeth on edge at times, she felt a tug on the back of her tunic. She turned around, then looked down. She smiled to herself. As a qunari she was always looking down to see people, but some people posed an even greater issue. She resisted the urge to take a knee as she greeted the dwarven woman who had gotten her attention, "Hello, Dagna," she smiled warmly, "good to see you."
"Good to see you as well, Inquisitor," the dwarf beamed. Danga had a way of lighting up an entire room with her wide, uninhibited smile.
"Was there something that needed my attention, or did you simply wish to say hello?" Astlyr question.
"Both," Dagna shrugged, her smiling slipping a bit. Very little managed to vex the dwarven artificer, so Astlyr leaned down slightly, giving her full attention.
Cullen managed to pry his arm from the grip of the mage woman who had taken a fancy to him, claiming in hurried tones that she had to discuss something with the dwarf as well. All three newcomers had stared openly at Dagna for several moments. One of them tutted something about 'overly inclusive policies at Skyhold,' but did so quietly.
Danga seemed briefly star-struck to be in the presence, not only of Astlyr, but also her famed military adviser. She cleared her throat, giddily nervous. "I just...I was wondering when that elvish spirit idol you found was going to come my way? I've been looking forward to studying it."
"When what?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow, confused. "You mean that jade frog statue?"
"I suppose," Dagna shrugged. "I heard that it was supposed to be delivered to the artifacts room, but I hadn't had a chance to check it right away. Then it wasn't there, so I figured it was still on its way. Only it has been a few weeks and I was wondering-"
"You mean that thing has been missing for almost a month?" Astlyr spoke more loudly than she intended and several nearby mages turned to see what was going on. She lowered her voice to an urgent whisper, "that artifact was suppose to be delivered here the same day we got it." She turned to Cullen, "who was the mage in charge of bringing it here? They need to be questioned at once."
"Right," Cullen's expression had taken on the stone severity he often wore in battle. He glanced around, seeking Vivienne, who was most likely to know where any of the mages in the tower were located at any given time. Astlyr wished she could recall who exactly had taken the frog statue.
"Cullen, please gather Josephine, Guardswoman Jones, Morrigan, Cole and Cassandra in Josie's office. We have something more urgent to discuss than the queen's envoy." Astlyr growled. She turned and left the tower, annoyance rising like hot coals in her throat. What was going on around her fortress without her knowing?
"Alright, Morrigan. Where's the idol?" Astlyr demanded of the yellow eyed mage.
They had all assembled in Josephine's office, as ordered. Fortunately, by that time she had finished whatever conversations she had been having with the two queen's knights and had ushered them on their way to the tavern.
Cassandra leaned against the diplomat's desk, still sore from her wounds. She looked over the gathered group with the wisened eye of a military commander. Apprizing. Cullen paced and Guardswoman Jones looked extremely insecure. Cole stood in the corner, chin low so his hat concealed his eyes. Astlyr intended to use the spirit boy as a lie detector of sorts and he wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea, though he was willing enough. Beside Jones stood the mage who had been charged with bringing the frog idol to the tower. She looked ready to faint with nerves.
"Excuse me, but if you are going to accuse me of something, please do me the courtesy of giving me some information to go on," Morriagan folded her arms, arching an elegant eyebrow.
"Let's back up," Josie suggested. "See if we can trace what happened to this idol."
"Alright," Astlyr said, feeling as tightly coiled as a spring put under great pressure. This day had started out so well and gone down hill so precipitously, she thought bitterly as she scanned the faces of the assemblage. "We brought the idol back from that cave. We intended to use to to awaken Fen-" she checked herself before saying his full name, glancing uneasily at the mage and guardswoman. "We determined that the way the idol worked required something we did not feel comfortable sacrificing."
"It wanted to kill spirits," muttered Cole, darkly, "and turn them into energy against their will."
"Right," Astlyr went on, nodding to her young friend. "But we did want to study it, so I requested that it be sent to Danga the artificer, for her and her team to study. But now she tells me she never saw it. That it did not reach its destination. So. Where is it?"
"You believe that I have possession of it?" Morrigan asked, her voice as smooth as ever. Obviously unperturbed by the accusation.
"You are a likely candidate," Astlyr said, eying the slender mage with ill concealed suspicion. 'You knew of the item, what it could do, and how to use it. You could easily go into the mage tower and take it, or waylay the one carrying it," she turned to the young mage who had been standing with guardswoman Jones. She cowered when faced with the intimidating figure of Astlyr in such close quarters.
"I brought it to the tower, Lady Inquisitor, just as instructed. I left it in the artifact room." the mage said in a high, tense voice. Astlyr caught Cole moving out of the corner of her eye, knowing the boy was concerned for the frightened mage. He did not go to her side, but hovered nearby, as though ready to intervene if Astlyr became too intense.
Astlyr stood back a bit, suddenly aware of how tall she was and a little self conscious. She shot Cole a look and after a moment he nodded. To the best of his knowledge the mage was telling the truth. "Alright," Astlyr exhaled, "you are excused. Thank you for your help."
The mage bobbed a bow to Astlyr and then to everyone else in the room before beating a hasty retreat. Astlyr turned her attention back to the others, brows knit together. "So, Morrigan. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Only that I am innocent of the theft," the raven haired woman shrugged narrow shoulders. Her prominent collarbone made more pronounced with the motion. She was an angular woman. All sharp edges and cold lines. Astlyr wondered if some found her type beautiful. Then she shook off the thought as she stared down the confident mage, who continued, "I have had no contact with your silly little idol since that day when you foolishly refused to use it. I cannot help but notice you did find another way to awaken him," she smirked.
Astlyr nodded, still scowling. "We did. But that does not change the facts before us. So you claim that you did not take the idol. The mage tells me that she delivered it to the tower. So where did it go?"
"I would have no way of knowing," Morrigan answered, in as frosty a tone as ever. "I am hardly kept up to date on your dealings here in Skyhold, and I cannot be held responsible for your incompetence."
Everyone on the room tensed, as though expecting Astlyr to fly into a qunari rage and attack the smart mouthed mage. But Astlyr had been expecting such an answer. She cut a glance at Cole, who was watching her from under the wide brim of his hate. "Cole, can you read her?"
The boy hesitated, then shook his head. "There is too much. A thousand voices fill her mind. A sea of songs, swimming and sweeping over her thoughts. Ancient ones with ancient knowledge crowd, though she doesn't know how to speak with them. If only I could speak with them," he shook his head, as though trying to disengage from something, stepping back he raised his hands as if in warding. "I don't like her pain," he muttered. "I can't help her."
Now Astlyr did feel an anger rising, but she tamped it down as best she could. "Because of what happened at the well?"
"Yes," Cole answered. "I can feel parts of her...I want power, and I want to understand things. Want to understand everything. Grasping, reaching, straining for understanding, but muffled by the voices," Cole shook his head, a look coming over his face as though he had tasted something bitter.
"Well this is getting us no where," grumbled Cullen. "If Morrigan does not have the idol, and it is not in the tower, where is it?"
"Would you submit to a search of your rooms?" Astlyr a dressed Morrigan with as much courtesy as she could muster.
"If I must," Morrigan said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Alright," Astlyr nodded. "I'll ensure that the guards are respectful of your possessions.
"How kind," Morrigan smirked.
"If she does have the idol," Cassandra pointed out, "it is unlikely that she would hide it in her rooms."
Astlyr agreed with a sigh, "I know, but we should search anyhow, for thoroughness."
"Why are we so concerned about the loss of this thing anyhow?" Cullen questioned.
"It is a magical artifact that can grant the user great power by manipulating Fade spirits," Morrgain explained as though she thought Cullen a dullard. "It would be a very poor thing indeed if it should fall into the wrong hands."
"And which hands are those?" Cullen raised an eyebrow. He had stopped his pacing at last and stood, resting his hands on the pommel of his sword in a posture Astlyr knew well.
"I can think of at least one person you might not wish to have access to it," Morrigan said.
Astlyr wondered how the woman had heard of the Solas situation in the Emerald Graves, but she supposed the mage kept her ear to the ground. And when the Inquisitor and her party came back to Skyhold half dead, Morrigan would have been most eager to uncover how and why. Yet she did seem to have a better understanding than Astlyr might have guessed, and she felt her skin prickle. She narrowed her eyes, but let it pass for the moment. "Indeed," she said instead, folding her arms. "This is why I wanted to speak to you, guardswoman," she addressed Jones, who had been standing to one side looking uncertain as to why she had been summoned at all.
"Ma'am?" she asked, lifting her eyes with a wide innocence that was somehow refreshing.
"You told me that while you were giving the elf, Celwydd, a tour of Skyhold he managed to give you the slip while you were in the mage tower?"
"Oh Maker's balls," moaned Cullen, running a hand frustratedly through his hair.
"Y'yes ma'am," Jones shot the military commander, her commander, a sidelong and very uneasy glance.
"How long, exactly did you lose him for? Don't be afraid to answer honestly.," Astlyr used the gentlest tone she could muster. She really did like the guardswoman and didn't want to frighten her so badly.
"I can make her forget the fear," Cole offered. Jones looked at him uncertainly, but he rested a slender hand on her shoulder. "Forget," he whispered. She straightened, her eyes suddenly confident and trusting.
Josie made a startled sound, "what did you do? Did you change her?"
Jones answered, shaking her head and looking slightly impressed, "Phew. That's quite a thing! No, he didn't change me. He just...I don't know what he did, but it certainly helped," he tilted her chin up and looked Astlyr directly in the face with complete confidence. "We only thought him lost for a few minutes, but in truth none of us were keeping close track of the time. It may have been more like twenty."
Astlyr nodded, "thank you, Jones. Your help is appreciated."
"Glad I could help, ma'am. I'm sorry we lost him in the first place. I hope I can help again in finding this idol thingy."
Astlyr stifled a chuckle at the woman's rough and comfortable speech. "We'll let you know, Jones."
The guard made a quick bow then turned smartly and strode from the room. "And thank you, Morrigan. You may also go about your business for the day," Astlyr said to the mage.
"Oh, you are too kind." Morrigan turned and moved gracefully from the room. Cole darted out of her way as though afraid she might strike him.
Astlyr turned back to her people, the smile that had crossed her face fled it again when she saw their dire expressions. "We have no way of knowing who took the idol, or what they intend, but I think we can all agree we need better security on the artifacts room in the tower."
"That is something we can be certain of," Cullen mumbled, looked tense and frustrated.
"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," Astlyr said. She shot a glance at Cole. It had not been her intention to have him present for the Morrigan discussion. He met her eyes and she gave him a thin smile. "It's alright, Cole. Just don't spread this information around, alright."
"I am good at keeping secrets," the boy said, sitting down in one of Josie's chairs and tucking up his legs.
"Except when you fish in people's minds and tell everyone their pain," Cassandra pointed out, not unkindly, but with a stern edge to her voice.
"That only means he would find out what we talked about anyway," Astlyr pointed out, "as I'm certain we'll all be anxious about it."
"Oh fine," Cullen grumbled. He was obviously in a foul mood already and eager to just get on with the conversation.
Astlyr took as deep and cleansing a breath as she could muster and told them all what Fen'Harel had expressed to her. The concern over Morrigan and Mythal, and whatever connection they might share. By the end her advisers all looked exceedingly glum. Cole watched them from his chair as though he desperately wanted to help them forget the entire situation, but knowing that would be unhelpful in the long run. "Well?" Astlyr said, looking from face to face hopefully.
"We have no idea how connected she is to this elven goddess," Josephine mused, "but Cole seemed to sense that she does hear voices because of it."
"We've heard her make mention and use of it before," Cullen agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When we were looking for Coryphius she was able to help us with the knowledge she had gathered from the well."
"So we are just accepting that the elven gods are real then?" Cassandra asked, dark eyes hooded as she leaned against the desk, seemingly giving Josie's carpet a thorough study.
"We have to believe something large and powerful is real. We can debate actual godhood all day, but something very old is definitely awake and wandering around. Possibly even in our own halls. We can only hope it doesn't intend us harm. Whatever these beings are."
"One did try to murder you," Cullen pointed out.
"So we can infer that they will try to kill us if we are in their proximity," Astlyr almost chuckled. Cullen gave her a stern look. It was clear that he did not find his friends' near death experience at all amusing.
"What do we do about Morrigan?" Cassandra asked. "Tell her to leave Skyhold? Make her stay so we can keep an eye on her?"
Astlyr pondered for a long moment, watching the flames gutter in the ornate fireplace. She was relieved when Josephine spoke first. "I suggest we keep her here, and keep as many of our suspicions of her to ourselves as possible. However, she should be closely monitored. Perhaps by Cole, at all times. Lelianna took many of her best people with her when she left to become Divine, but we still have a spymaster and he may be able to advise us and give us personnel to monitor her."
"Alright," I suppose that is a better plan than nothing at all," Astlyr shrugged. Then she realized that a shrug was probably not the best indication of her leadership ability. She squared her shoulders, preparing to give a more leaderly response, but her people were already moving off. Josephine was arranging papers on her desk and Cullen was walking with Cassandra out of the room.
She glanced at Cole, still sitting in the chair, watching the fire with an odd sort of fascination. She put a hand on his narrow shoulder and it took him a moment to look up at her. When he did there was a certain fondness in his eyes she wasn't used to from him. Normally he was distant a detached, but in that moment, with the firelight giving his pale face a strangely ruddy glow, he looked at her as though he was pleased that she was standing beside him. Then a tense expression clouded his features and he teleported away. She was left with her hand hovering where his shoulder had been, tingling with a cold waft of air from his departure.
Astlyr said her goodbyes to Josephine and left the room herself. Her mind was too busy to even think about what the queen's knights might have wanted. She would save that subject for tomorrow. She wondered if she should track Cole down, or if he was already getting to work spying on Morrgian's thoughts. She shuddered. She honestly hated doing that to someone. Both to Morrigan and to Cole. She felt as though she was setting Cole on the mage as though he was a dog and she a criminal. This was all going so poorly, she thought. Weren't things supposed to be easier during peacetime? Then again, perhaps this wasn't peace time after all. She rubbed her stiff leg. She knew she should probably visit Fen'Harel. She had more questions for him, but she was too mentally worn down by her day. Long fingers of red sunset light splashed through the high windows behind the Inquisitor's Throne in the main hall. Washing the room with a bloody sheen. She decided to find Varric and talk him into a few drinks and a good, one on one game of Wicked Grace.
****This has been Astlyr's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day! Hopefully things will get better? You can find out right now because, as I said, you get ANOTHER whole chapter today! Aaaaaaaaw yis!