Chapter 12: The Show Must Go On
Two years ago Halamshiral had changed him, and not for the better. As Theo rode into the city uncomfortable memories about that trip prodded the back of his mind like a tongue poking at a sore tooth. He sat straight in the saddle, shoulders back and eyes staring ahead. Anyone would think he was probably looking toward the gate of the Winter Palace, but he was focused on the center of Cullen's back as his commander rode ahead of him. He hadn't wanted to be in Halamshiral then; and he wanted it even less, now.
"Smile," Josephine muttered through her own pasted on grin as her horse trotted next to his. "You are ready for this. Even if you're not."
Theo's sigh hissed through his teeth as he made himself smile at the watching crowds. His innards squirmed with nerves and he tried not to listen to the snatches of conversation as he passed.
"The Inquisitor…"
"Ferelden is afraid…"
"The threat has ended; why is the Inquisition ongoing?"
He had begged and pleaded with Josephine to negotiate via correspondence; he'd given her full permission to go in his place and speak on his behalf. He'd even jokingly suggested bribery, and he was pretty sure that they could hear her screaming at him as far away as Antiva. So in the end he'd replied to the invitation to the Exalted Council that he would "be honored to attend."
Invitation? More like a summons. Even though the sky overhead was brilliant blue and cloudless, and the spring sun warm and promising summer, Theo had the uncomfortable feeling that he was riding toward a trial.
He had never asked for any of this, and yet he'd dived in headlong and done all he could to defeat the ancient threat of Corypheus. He'd stopped an Avvar god, embodied in a dragon, from destroying southern Orlais. He'd closed the breach and countless Fade rifts that spewed demons into the world. Not because he wanted to, but because it needed to be done, and he was the only one who could do it. And now he was the threat?
This will take everything from you. He recalled the words of Ameriden, the first and only other Inquisitor. Ameriden had been lost to history, and what was known of him was what the Chantry wanted people to know. Theo had spent the last weeks wondering (Dorian would have accused him of brooding) how history would remember him. Then the Exalted Council had been announced, and he realized he might not have to wonder much longer.
The roar of the crowds died as he passed through the gates and into the walls of the Winter Palace; though the clanging of the outer gates filled him with dread. There had never been any turning back, in any of this.
A page led them through secret passages from the stables and into the palace so Theo would not have to face the throngs of people looking for an impromptu audience with the Inquisitor. He then led them up to the guest wing. "Your rooms have been checked for any potential security breaches," he said with a bow. "We trust you will find them safe as well as luxurious."
"Are we anticipating assassins?" Theo asked Josephine when the page had left them. "It wouldn't be Halamshiral without someone trying to kill me, after all." He tried to smile, but the memories of his last visit were still raw, and his left arm still hurt from time to time. Lately, the pain had been getting worse. Just now his hand hurt, the pain throbbing up his wrist and into his forearm. Sometimes it was just an ache; other times, like now, it felt like stinging fire.
"It is a precaution," Josephine reassured him, though she kept flicking her gaze toward the windows and doors. "I apologize," she said and tried to smile. "The strain is getting to me."
Theo patted her on the shoulder. "You've brokered bargains and deals with every major nation in Thedas. This should be easy enough for you."
"I appreciate your faith, Inquisitor," she said. For one brief, terrifying moment her lower lip trembled.
"This… isn't going to end well." Theo swallowed against the lump in his throat that came with the realization that had been creeping up on him since Cassandra had first told him about this council. Or since Arl Teagan had had him escorted out of Ferelden, and maybe even before then.
"Whether we meant to or not, we created the most powerful organization, aside from the Chantry, in all of Thedas. And we did it in an astonishingly short amount of time. One does not amass our amount of power and resources and not make enemies." She blinked once more and took a deep breath, and was stoic, unreadable, unflappable Josephine once more.
That one moment scared him, though. Josephine had never once cracked in all the time he'd known her. Yes, she could get frustrated with him, personally; but she could broker power and alliances so shrewdly that even Empress Celene deferred to the Inquisition. More often than not Theo felt like he was just the figurehead, a face for the Inquisition; the real power lay in Josephine's political prowess, Leliana's wealth of information, and Cullen's command of the forces.
Josephine left him. Theo fell back on the bed and stared up at the intricately painted ceiling. He missed Dorian fiercely, but he needed this time alone. For now Theo just needed to worry. Dorian would try to calm him and make him see logic. If Theo could mull over his concerns alone for a bit, he felt he might be in a better frame of mind to see Dorian when he arrived from Tevinter.
This last month had been lonely and aimless, waiting for the council while Dorian was away. Theo had destroyed archery targets faster than the troops could bale hay to make more; eventually he'd spent a week out in the Dales, hunting holdout Venatori cells with Iron Bull and the Chargers. It was like Dorian had said, and it compounded his nerves: Theo couldn't not fight anymore.
He stared at his aching hand. The green glow pulsed in time with his heartbeat, some pulses brighter and more painful than others. His marked hand had always been a curiosity to some, source of fear and intimidation to others. Sometimes the light seemed to glow through the scars that criss-crossed the soft skin on the underside of his arm: reminders of what the Venatori had done to him with their blood magic. He wanted to think it was just a trick of the light emanating from his palm, but the itching and burning, even after two years, made him not so sure.
Theo closed his eyes, weary. Only one person could even begin to explain his mark, and that person had vanished after Corypheus's defeat.
A sharp rap sounded on the door and Theo opened his eyes. He was still on the bed, but the angle of the sun through the tall windows had changed and the shadows had lengthened. He smoothed out his clothes and ran a hand over his hair before pasting a smile on his face and opening the door.
"It's not like you to keep me waiting, Amatus," Dorian said, leaning against the door frame. Even after long travel his dark hair was glossy and perfectly in place and his mustache curled just so. His leather mage armor was polished to a deep sheen and he wore a green and white robe over it. "It's also not like you to stare like you've seen a ghost." He grinned and looked at Theo through those long, dark lashes.
Theo had rehearsed this reunion a thousand times in the last month, several times a day since Dorian's one letter had arrived a week ago, reassuring him that he would indeed be at the Exalted Council. But now that he was finally seeing his husband after so long apart, and with so much weighing on him, he felt suddenly shy and overwhelmed.
"Maker's breath I missed you," he said, pulling Dorian close even in the middle of the hallway. He held tight, feeling Dorian's warmth seep into him, feeling Dorian's solidness against him. He curled his fingers into Dorian's robes and buried his face in Dorian's shoulder, inhaling his spicy, slightly sweet scent and he thought he might collapse with relief.
"And I, you," Dorian murmured, breath warm on his ear. He kissed Theo gently and nudged him toward the room's interior, closing the door behind them. Inside they fell upon the bed, and all the pent up nervous energy Theo had been channeling into fighting, he poured into kissing Dorian. "I told you I'd return," Dorian said breathlessly during a pause between kisses.
"I know," Theo said sheepishly. "I just didn't realize until I saw you how much I missed having you with me." He ran his thumb over Dorian's cheek and drank in his warm skin, his glossy hair, his mysterious pale eyes, and the curve of his mouth. Everything he'd recalled every day for the last month. "I love you so much," he said and kissed him.
Dorian smiled. "And I love you. I'm glad our current stay in the Winter Palace is under better circumstances." He rolled onto his side and rested on his elbow. His brow wrinkled. "Would you rather be fighting off vengeful Venatori?"
"Maker, no," Theo said, staring down at his arm. "Were there many Venatori holdouts in Tevinter?"
"No." Dorian's smile was ironic. "Which is to say, there probably are, but they know when they've been beaten, and have gone to ground to plan their next move."
"What's your next move?" Theo asked.
Dorian's grin spread. "Besides ravishing you properly after a lonely and celibate month?" Theo blushed, but Dorian's grin faded. He took Theo's marked hand and turned it over, the bright glow reflecting in his eyes. "Tevinter was… not quite what I was expecting," he said at last. "And I think I had a taste of what it's like to be you."
"You say it like it's a bad thing," Theo said, attempting to smile.
"I was thrust into this role unexpectedly, but had no idea what I was doing." Dorian shrugged and closed Theo's fingers over the mark. "But it was something to make my father happy, and this council got me out of the way again. I'm an inconvenience, after all."
"Lucky for me," Theo said, snuggling into Dorian.
Nothing had changed; he still had to face the Exalted Council, and the Inquisition's fate still hung in the balance. His hand still felt like it was on fire. But with Dorian back at his side, he felt more relaxed and secure. Dorian had been with him through the most difficult challenges he'd ever faced; he could go into whatever came next, so long as Dorian was with him.
The next day began with a private breakfast with Divine Victoria. Theo and Dorian were led down the long hallway to Cassandra's resplendent quarters, which were guarded by templars in shining armor and deep red overskirts embroidered with the golden sunburst of the Chantry. Divine Victoria greeted them personally at the door to her rooms while a crowd of nobles looked on and whispered.
"Thank you for coming," she said as they entered and the doors closed behind them. She pulled the miter off her head and shook out her short black hair. "This forsaken thing gets so hot," she grumbled and handed it off to a flustered novice attending her. "Leave us be," she ordered, and kept walking. Theo had a hard time repressing a smile; she was the Divine, but Cassandra would always be Cassandra.
When the novice had left them Cassandra turned, her vestments swishing around her legs, and surprised Theo with a hug. "It is good to see you once more, Inquisitor," she said, pulling back and smiling. "You as well, Dorian. I am glad you've both come; I'm sorry it had to come to this. I tried to delay as long as I could, but Ferelden is having no more of it. I only hope we can devise a strategy before the Council itself begins."
Strategy. The last few years of Theo's life had been spent gathering information, amassing forces, and planning strategies. He followed Cassandra into the conservatory. Morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows, glinting off the gold accents in the room. A spread of breakfast pastries and teas had been laid out, but Theo was too nervous to eat. He poured a cup of tea and sat next to Leliana.
"It's all foolish posturing, really," Vivienne was telling Leliana and Josephine. "What can they do?"
"Ferelden has reason to fear the Inquisition," Leliana told her. "Their history of occupation has left them uneasy with us right on their borders." She glanced over at Theo. "Redcliffe was exceedingly grateful that you were able to get the mages to leave; things have been quiet there since, but in the absence of conflict they grow nervous."
"I don't want to invade them," Theo said quietly, staring at the ghostlike steam that rose from his tea. "World domination is pretty low on my list of priorities. It's actually so low, it's not even a priority."
But Ferelden didn't know that, and there was precious little Theo could do to prove his intentions to Arl Teagan, advisor to King Alistair. Cassandra paced. She reached at her side to grip her sword, which of course wasn't there. The warrior in her could not be squelched. It made Theo smile with some relief: in spite of how many things had changed and were going to change, so much was still the same.
Josephine and Leliana took their leave, and Vivienne headed for the spa. "I daresay an hour of relaxation and pampering might do you some good, darling," she said as she departed.
"It sounds lovely," Dorian said, then looked between Vivienne and Theo. "Ah, of course you meant our tightly wound Inquisitor," he added, lips curling in a teasing smile. He squeezed Theo's shoulder. Vivienne's tinkling laugh faded as she left, an act put on to convince anyone listening that the morning's brunch had been nothing more than a casual gathering of old friends.
"I suppose it was too much to hope you'd be able to convince them all to drop this thing," Theo told Cassandra. He leaned on the windowsill, staring out the open window that overlooked her private gardens—planted, it was rumored, especially for Divine Victoria's visit.
"I will not abandon the Inquisition that I started," Cassandra said. She tugged at the constricting collar of her vestments and sneered slightly. "I could not, even if I wanted to. The Inquisition is still necessary, though few understand why. Unfortunately as the Divine I must remain neutral and impartial." She glanced over at Theo, her shrewd hazel eyes slightly narrowed and the corner of her mouth quirked upward. "Secretly I support you and your organization."
"And read Varric's books," he pointed out. He wasn't surprised that Cassandra was on his side; beyond being the two most powerful people in southern Thedas, they'd build the Inquisition from nothing, and in the process, a friendship. Even if she had to appear neutral, knowing that he had her support meant a great deal.
The rest of the morning was spent smiling and posturing and letting Josephine do the talking while he nodded and tried to appear aloof, rarely giving more than one or two word answers. Arl Teagan, the Fereldan ambassador, was cordial enough, but Theo detected the chill in his voice as he questioned where Skyhold was situated according to a map of Thedas. That uncomfortable discussion only became more awkward when one of the Orlesian nobles on the Council of Heralds passed by at just the right moment to suggest that the Inquisition might benefit from their guidance. "Thank you, but the Inquisition has always set its own course," Theo said. He was so tired of the posturing and half-truths. If the Inquisition was in jeopardy, he was going to fight this battle on his terms as the Inquisitor.
Josephine wasn't pleased with that response and Theo left her falling over herself with apologies to both Teagan and Cyril de Monfort. When she found him a bit later, hiding in a shadowed gazebo on the edges of the gardens, she was not pleased. "Do you have any idea what is at stake here?" she hissed, even though no one was around.
"I know exactly what's at stake," he countered. "But I'm done playing games."
Her nostrils flared. "This could be the end of the Inquisition as we know it. Or the end of the Inquisition entirely."
A horn sounded, signaling the start of the council. Theo's heart beat faster and he felt a little dizzy. His left hand pulsed with painful magic, sending tingles like sharp needles through his veins up toward his shoulder. It hurt more and more every day, but with the concern about the council he hadn't thought much about it. It was just part of him, part of what it meant to be Inquisitor.
He stood and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. "If we're going to give them a show, it may as well be a good one," he said, and marched toward the gates of the Winter Palace.