New chapter finally up! Sorry if some of the conversation is repetitive, but I tried not to stick too closely to the script.
But you know what more than makes up for it? DORIAN.
DORIAN IS IN THE HOUSE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
Disclaimer: Bioware owns this game and my heart *Patrick Weekes cackling in the distance*
The Gull & Lantern in Redcliffe was clearly a newer building, well-built and sparkling clean compared to most taverns. The tables and chairs were still untouched by spilled drink and knife marks, the air lacking the permanent smell of ale that most bars had. In fact, a fresh breeze rolled in from the back door, wafting through the kitchen into the main room, carrying the smell of fresh fruit and cheese that were ready to be served. Like most of the buildings in the village, it had been built after the Blight, and bore no sign of the horrors that the village had faced during that time.
Lavellan had scoped the place out for a good hour before entering, sitting in the shadows of a nearby craft shop as she watched the customers walk in and out of the tavern. She saw no suspicious activity, save the unusual number of mages walking freely around town. The angle she sat at gave her a glimpse of Fiona's position in the tavern, the older witch sitting at a back table and speaking with a few older enchanters. Her expression was serious, worried even, the only sign that something was amiss, though what it was, she could not guess. Only the feeling of doom settling in Lavellan's stomach told her that something was bound to go wrong.
Though the rogue would have been content to scope out the tavern for at least another day, her companions were becoming antsy. Cassandra huffed for the fifteenth time, and Vivienne had run out of nails to sharpen with the file she kept in her pocket.
"Herald." Cassandra finally spoked with a frustrated sigh. "I think it is safe to go in now."
Lavellan tore her gaze away from the window and glanced at the annoyed looks on the faces of her companions. "Alright, fine."
They exited their hiding spot, Cassandra and Vivienne taking the lead. The sight of a Seeker would make the mages think twice about attacking them, but with a First Enchanter at her side, would seem less of an enemy. Lavellan glanced at Solas, but her fellow elf seemed entirely unaffected by the situation, his gaze distant, as if lost in thought.
Daydreaming even now. Lavellan snickered inwardly. He was strange, even for an elf.
When they entered the tavern, the room immediately froze at the sight of a Seeker and the First Enchanter that had remained at the Chantry's side after the rebellion. Cassandra was rather famous for those who grew up in Orlais, and Madame de Fer a well-known title among all of the Circles. The two of them together was a clear show of force from the Chantry, despite their affiliation with the Inquisition. More than a few mages stared at them in wonder or fear.
"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition." Grand Enchanter Fiona eyed them warily, and without any sign of recognition in her expression. She slowly stood up out of her chair to approach the group cautiously. "What has brought you to Redcliffe?"
Either she has a really good pokerface, or someone has played us. Lavellan thought as she glanced around the tavern, noting the entrances and exits, counting the number of mages and civilians, noting one tranquil, and two armed men in the back. This smells like a trap.
The elf bristled, her shoulders squaring for a fight as she walked away from the entrance and further into the tavern. Her companions seemed to notice her unease, and she could hear the soft whisper of leather and a clink or two of metal as they also prepared themselves for an attack.
"We received a personal invitation from you in Val Royeaux." Lavellan explained slowly, cautiously. "Either it was you, or you have a twin sister you don't know about."
The enchantress narrowed her eyes, suspicion on her face, though thankfully it was not directed at them. "I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave."
"Well, then. Evil twin it is." Lavellan nodded sagely, her face entirely serious. Several of the younger mages giggled at her, while someone behind her (probably Solas) sighed disapprovingly.
"Whoever, or whatever, has brought you here, the situation has changed." Fiona stated with no small amount of regret in her expression.
Here we go. Lavellan thought in exasperation. Just once, could something actually go as planned? Just. Once.
"The Free Mages have already pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."
By the Creators, someone slap this woman. Lavellan rubbed her forehead, an alternative to punching the stupid enchanter right in the face, and shook her head. She got the feeling her companions behind her were wearing similar expressions. "Wow. You are a lot dumber than you look. Like, a lot."
"Fiona dear, your dementia is showing." Vivienne sniffed, but her voice was tinged with genuine apprehension. Her own Circle would be vilified if word spread of this alliance.
The mages, and Fiona in particular, glared at her with varying degrees of anger, scandal, and offended looks.
"I understand that you are afraid," Solas spoke up with his soothing wise-old-man voice. "But you deserve better than slavery to Tevinter."
Cassandra looked positively mortified. "An alliance with Tevinter? Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?"
A couple of the mages opened their mouths to defend themselves, but were quickly silenced by a sharp movement of Fiona's hand. "As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you."
"You do realize this means the rest of Thedas will see you all as traitors?" Lavellan raised her eyebrow at the general mage population in front of her. "It's a long way from here to Tevinter. And word spreads fast. They'll hunt you down, Templars or no."
Fiona's expression crumbled into desperation. "All hope of peace died with Justinia. This bargain with Tevinter would not have been my first choice, but we had no choice." The older elf shook her head. "We are losing this war. I needed to save as many people as I could."
"So you're going to sell your people off? Well, at least you'll get to make some gold while they're still alive." Lavellan retorted dryly. Coward.
Lavellan wanted to throttle the damn enchantress. Every mage in southern Thedas, rebel or no, would instantly be branded as traitors, loyalists and spies of the dreaded Tevinter Imperium. Fool of a woman! She was damning generations of magi simply because she was desperate. The backlash for all other mages in Thedas once word of this got out… towns would riot, people would hunt down anyone that showed an aptitude for magic, burn them at the stake or drown them as children. Humans were such fearful creatures, and more often than not incapable of logic when they let fear take over. It would be the chaos of the Hinterlands all over again, but worse as it spread throughout the continent. She doubted even the Inquisition could stop it.
They all tensed as the door to the tavern was flung open in a way that was meant to draw their attention, a man in truly horrid robes striding in like he owned the places. Lavellan couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at his hood– he looked like a walking dragonfruit with those weird flaps sticking up. And his face was smoothed into a placed smile that only the most devious politicians wore when they were trying to reassure you of their moral compass.
"Welcome, my friends! I apologize for not greeting you earlier." The man walked in with all the swagger of a noble, and the air filled with the tang of magic.
The magister, I presume. Lavellan thought. Ugh, he even sounds evil.
"Agents of the Inquisition," Fiona said rather stiffly, clearly still mistrusting of the man. "Allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius."
Alexius came to a halt in front of the Herald and her companions, studying them with thinly veiled animosity. "The southern mages are under my command. And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? Interesting."
It was never a good thing for the bad guy to be interested in you.
"Now why would an esteemed Tevinter Magister leave the glittering halls of the Imperium for the backwater South, hm?" She drawled, careful to keep the conversation casual and light.
Alexius chuckled and gave her his friendliest smile, which only served to make her skin crawl. "I am quite far from home, yes, but I hear you are no Ferelden either. It seems we are both strangers here."
"I am from the country next door." Lavellan pointed out. "You are half a continent away. There's a slight difference."
He just sent her an amused look, eyes glimmering with secrets. So that's how he wanted to play it, hm?
"I find it highly unusual for a noble from Tevinter to be traipsing around Ferelden without the royal court going up in scandal." Lavellan narrowed her eyes. "Nor do I see any sign of the Arl or his men here in Redcliffe."
"The Arl of Redcliffe left the village." Alexius shrugged. "There were tensions growing, I did not want an incident."
Ugh, does he really think us so blind? He is such a terrible liar, he couldn't even win a game of Wicked Grace. Lavellan wanted to sneer. Such an obvious lie too. A noble didn't just leave their lands at the behest of a foreigner. He either thought her daft, or he was not expecting them to survive long enough to send out a warning.
The magister motioned for her to join him at the nearest table, in order to sit and negotiate a price for the mages.
"Felix, will you send for a scribe, please?" Alexius looked up at a young man that had accompanied him into the tavern. "Pardon my manners, this is my son, Felix."
The young man had a friendly enough countenance, and he didn't make Lavellan's instincts scream at her to murder him. That was always a plus.
Alexius began mumbling on about his offer to help, on his terms of course, carefully sidestepping any real promises and keeping most of his suggestions intentionally vague. Lavellan daydreamed once or twice about the fastest way to kill him, sitting here in the tavern, and how she would escape the wrath of the mages around them. A smoke bomb? Had to strike fast when it came to mages, before they could cast anything.
Movement caught her eye, and Lavellan turned just in time to see the young man, Felix, stumble as he walked back in with a scribe behind him. His stumble seemed to make him dizzy, as his eyes flickered uncontrollably around the room and his hand went to his head.
He's going to fall. Was all Lavellan thought before she stood and took a cautious step towards him.
Then his direction change, and the magister's son was collapsing in her direction and the elf had no choice but to catch him. She felt quick fingers at her pockets, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
A pass. She thought, absently impressed with the man's acting skills. He was certainly a better liar than his father.
"Felix!" The magister gasped, the first real display of emotion she had seen from him. He was as worried as any father should be, the dread on his face telling her that perhaps Felix's display was not such an act after all. Clearly, there was a history here.
"I'm so sorry!" Felix shook his head, as if to wash away the dizziness. "Please forgive my clumsiness, my lady."
She nodded in silent forgiveness, careful to keep her expression distantly polite.
Alexius stepped forward to help his son back to his feet. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, father." Felix sighed with all the annoyance of a child put out at their parent's hovering.
It seemed all parents had the overprotective instinct, even those heartless Tevinter bastards. Alexius quickly excused himself and his son, mumbling about the boy's medicines while he practically shoved everyone out of the way in his haste to get his son back to the castle.
Lavellan waited a few more minutes as the rest of the mages in the tavern filed out after Alexius and his son, Fiona following suit like a leashed dog, her mages like the puppies that trailed behind. Lavellan made brief eye contact with Solas, the other elf having also noticed the discreet pass-off from the magister's son, and his curious gaze glued to her side pocket.
The paper was small and crumpled when she pulled it out, Lavellan smoothing the edges as she read the letter. There were still a few civilian patrons lingering in the tavern, so she dared not read it aloud, only pass it along for her companions to see for themselves.
'Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.'
Vivienne raised her brows as she skimmed the note. "Trap?"
"Most likely." Solas nodded, though he seemed unbothered at the notion.
Cassandra's eyes glinted at the challenge. "They are fools to underestimate us, then."
Lavellan smirked back at them.
.*.*. ҉ .*.*.
She could feel the presence of a rift even before they even had the chance to push open the Chantry doors. They swung open to reveal that sickly green light she was all too familiar with these days, raw mana swirling around the interior of the building as sharp, inhuman fingers clawed at the edges of the rift and demons began to push themselves through.
They walked in just in time to see a mage smash a demon's face with the butt of his staff, fire flashing through his fingers as he incinerated what was left of it. He looked up at their arrival, his grin completely debonair.
"Good! You're here!" He gave them a cheeky look, his tone posh and polished as a noble. "Now help me close this, would you?"
They didn't have much choice as another round of demons chose that moment to stream through the Fade rift, screeching and growling as they lurched into the world. Lavellan and her companions leapt into action, Solas casting a barrier around them as Cassandra rushed forward, dispelling the magic around the rift as she slammed into a large shade. Vivienne froze a rage demon and Lavellan shattered it with a dual-bladed flank attack. A few of the other shades nearby were screaming as they burned under the mystery mage's flames, Vivienne turning her attention to them as well as she conjured her knight enchanter's blade and swung at one of the panicking spirits. Solas cast a healing spell over Cassandra, who was taking heavy damage from a rather large shade, while Lavellan slipped into the shadows until she was able to safely close the rift without the demons noticing.
When the last of the demons crumbled to ash and the rift was sealed, their newest acquaintance turned to them with an exhilarated expression, his finger curling the end of his mustache thoughtfully.
"Fascinating! How does that work exactly?" The man exclaimed with a distinctly Tevinter accent, then chuckled. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rift closes!"
"I don't actually wiggle my fingers, but yes." Lavellan nodded, studying the man with amusement. "And… who might you be?"
"Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"
She had learned to expect people to bow to her since being named the Herald of Andraste, but she was certainly taken by surprise when the Tevinter nobleman bowed to an elf like her, Herald or not.
I like this guy already. Lavellan decided.
"Another Tevinter." Cassandra stated in a suspicious tone. "Be cautious with this one."
Vivienne let her condescension be known. "Let one Tevinter in, and suddenly they're scurrying out of all the walls like roaches.
"Now, now, I'm ever so much more handsome than a cockroach." Ser Dorian said in a laughing voice, clearly unsurprised at their mistrust, and the elf couldn't help but smirk at his rebuttal. "Magister Alexius was once my mentor. So my assistance should be invaluable – as I'm sure you can imagine."
Betraying his mentor? Lavellan hummed. Something happened between them, then. A disagreement? Whatever it is, it was it must have been a lasting impression if his former student followed him all the way here.
"So why help us?" The elleth asked Dorian.
"Well, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note." The Tevinter began to explain to her. "Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach the Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself!"
Well… shit.
Somewhere out there, there was a god, creator, something that was laughing their ass off as they dumped one new shitpile after another onto her shoulders.
"So, the Divine dies, and Alexius pops up out of nowhere just in time to be the hero that the mages needed in their darkest hour." Lavellan drawled, rolling her eyes. At this point, she just wanted to kill everyone and be done with it.
Dorian chuckled. "You catch on quick."
"That is fascinating." Solas murmured with his eyes alight at the possibilities. "… and most certainly dangerous." He added, almost as an afterthought.
God you're such a nerd. Lavellan thought with a mental snicker.
"You saw how the rifts appeared to be distorting time around them, yes?" Dorian made a vague hand gesture to where the rift had been. "Sped some things up and slowed others down? Soon, there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe." The mage suddenly became very serious. "The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world."
Seriously? Lavellan thought to whatever grand spirit out there was writing this stupid story. Seriously. Why do you do this to me?
"Alright, I vote we just blow up the castle." Lavellan threw her hands in the air and spun around to look at her fellow elf. "Solas, I don't suppose we have any more crazy Elvhen artifacts lying around?"
"Lethallin!" The bald elf snapped with a scolding tone.
Both Cassandra and Vivienne looked like they were desperately trying not to crack a smile through their disapproving expressions.
"Normally, I'd agree with you. I do love making things go up in flames." Dorian told her with a cocksure grin and a wink. "However, I'd rather not take the chance of any more of this time-magic research falling into the wrong hands. It must be destroyed, and I must see it with my own eyes."
"You don't seriously believe these Tevinters have invented time magic?" Vivienne scoffed as if offended, though Lavellan had a hunch that it was more about her mage pride at stake. As if the thought of the Tevinters being further advanced in their magical research was a blow to every Circle in southern Thedas (though it only made sense, since the Tevinters operated without Chantry censorship).
Dorian turned to the First Enchantress with a superior sniff. "I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was his apprentice, it was pure theory. No one actually thought it would work!" Then, as an aside, he murmured, "Just made me look good in front of my professors."
The Tevinter crossed his arms and tapped his chin. "What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?"
"Certainly makes him stand out among the rest of the magisterium." Lavellan muttered. Mad men rarely did the logical thing.
"He didn't do it for them."
Dorian, Lavellan, and the rest of her companions turned to see Felix slip through a narrow side-door behind the Chantry's prayer candles. The elf glanced over the young man's shoulder warily, wondering if his father was nearby. The magister's son colluding with the Inquisition? Surely not.
"Took you long enough." Dorian quipped, smiling at Felix with the ease of familiarity, before his expression returned to the serious one it had before. "Is he getting suspicious?"
"No." Felix sighed, "But I shouldn't have played the illness card. Thought he'd be fussing over me all day."
The magister's son turned to look at Lavellan then, and she couldn't help but noticed the permanent dark circles around his eyes, or the sickly pallor of his skin. He was dying, she realized with a start.
"My father has joined a cult." Felix told the Herald, looking ashamed of his father's actions. "Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves 'Venatori'. And I can tell you one thing, whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."
I'm flattered. She thought dryly, frowning at the two Tevinters. "You both have more reason to be loyal to Alexius than me. Why approach the Inquisition? Why betray your own father and mentor?"
"I love my father, and like Dorian, I love my country." Felix nodded at his countryman. "But time magic? My father could potentially destroy the world. This benefits no one, and dooms us all. For his own sake, we must stop him!"
"It would also be nice if he didn't rip a hole in time." Dorian rolled his eyes. "There's already a hole in the sky. One is enough, thank you."
Agreed. Lavellan thought as she considered the two men in front of her. Then another thought occurred to her – the explosion at the Conclave was weeks ago. Still too short a time for news of the attack, or her survival, to reach the Tevinter Imperium all the way at the other end of the continent. Which meant that they had already been nearby when it happened. Which meant that Alexius had known about her even before he rearranged time to show up in Redcliffe.
"…whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you." Her brows furrowed at the implications. To kill her? Or capture? And why? For the mark, or for the title of 'Herald'? Or did she pose some other threat to their plans?
"Do you know what the Venatori want with me?" Lavellan asked Felix, eyeing his expression closely for any sign of deceit.
But the young man just shook his head. "They're obsessed with you. I don't know why. Maybe it's because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"
Survived the Fade went unsaid, but she heard it all the same. The last record of a person actually walking physically through the Fade were the Tevinter Magisters of old, the ones said to have triggered the Blights. The implications of her survival could either be seen as a blessing or a warning by many in Thedas, but it took particular precedence for those in the Imperium. The Tevinters had been living in the shadow of their ancestors for centuries, blamed for every darkspawn, every archdemon, and every Blight that wracked the land. They did not like to be reminded of their greatest sin, and here she was, the elf who dared to walk the Fade as well, but rather than be punished by their Maker, she was marked (literally) as his messenger.
A conundrum, to be sure.
"And you can seal the rifts." Dorian glanced down at Lavellan's glowing hand. "Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?"
"A threat and an insult." Lavellan chuckled, both Tevinters glancing at her pointed ears and smirking in agreement. An elf succeeded, where their precious ancestors had failed.
"If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky, they're even worse than I thought." Felix was starting to look more worried than when he had arrived.
Cassandra snorted behind her. "I didn't think the Tevinters could get any worse."
Vivienne tittered while Lavellan sent her a look that was supposed to look scolding, but was probably more amused than anything. "Don't jinx us, Cassie."
"Yes, there's been enough crazy Tevinters in history. Makes the rest of us look like a bore." Dorian stated with a scathing tone, before turning back to the Herald. "You know you're his target. Expecting the trap is the first step to turning it to your advantage."
As if dealing with an army of rebel mages wasn't stressful enough. Now it's turned into a Tevinter plot. She resisted the urge to scowl.
"I can't stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way, for now." The tanned Tevinter smirked at Lavellan. "But when you go meet with him, I want to be there."
The expression on Dorian's face was a cross between a playful smirk and a look of retribution. She supposed it must hurt to see a childhood mentor fall so low, though hers had always been a monster and she had had no illusions about it. But from what she could gather, Alexius had once been a respectful man. The disappointment in his son's and apprentice's expressions was enough to tell her that this was not the man they had come to know. His actions had betrayed them both, whether Alexius realized it or not.
"I'll have one of Leliana's contacts in the village approach you." Lavellan told Dorian. "That way you can continue to report on his behavior while we head back to Haven. Hopefully we can find a way around all this mess."
Dorian dipped into a short bow before straightening and walking to the back door of the Chantry. "Oh, and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed."
"There are worse things than dying, Dorian." The younger Tevinter stated solemnly, before he took his leave as well, heading back the way he came in.
Like the destruction of time and space. And wet socks. Lavellan grimaced as she turned to face her companions. Silence stretched between them for a moment, each companion lost in their own thoughts on the conversation that had just occurred in the Chantry.
"Let's go." Lavellan murmured, heading for the main doors.
She needed a drink. Several drinks. All the drinks.
I know this story get a little slow at times, but I promise things will get more interesting after Haven. A lot of Lavellan's story will be fleshed out and some of her actions explained. I'll get a little more in depth with her friendships once she starts to trust her companions, and of course, her relationship with Solas (can you even call it that at this point?) Anyway, I've already got some good stuff written down, just a matter of posting it all in order.
Speaking of, Solasmance is always slow going, which is because he is slow to care and slow to trust. And since my Lavellan is the same way, its like "unstoppable force meet immovable object" aka slow burn romance with a lot of unconscious flirting. I've already got some ̶s̶m̶u̶t̶t̶y̶ fluffy scenes written, it's just a matter of getting there haha.
Until next chapter!