Thank you for sticking with me! It may be a while between updates, but they will continue.
The trip home from Halamshiral was uneventful, for which Bridget was grateful. She knew how much work still lay ahead of her, the pile of letters that would be awaiting them all on Josephine's desk filled with requests for their assistance—all too many of which would have to be dealt with by Bridget herself, unfortunately enough.
She had hoped for enough time to get home and unpack and bathe and get a good night's sleep and a chance to check in with everyone who hadn't been at Halamshiral before something intruded itself that couldn't be put off, but no such luck. It seemed Bridget had barely put her bags down on the bed before a messenger was knocking at her door bidding her to come down to Josephine's office at once.
As she entered the office, Josephine rose from behind her desk, looking harried and concerned. A Revered Mother was sitting in the chair across from the desk, and she very deliberately did not rise when Bridget entered the room, an insult Bridget noticed for the calculated message that it was.
"The matter is urgent, Josephine."
"I am well aware of that, Revered Mother, which is why I sent for the Inquisitor before she even had a chance to sit down after her journey." To Bridget, she said, "I've rung for tea and a light snack. I'm certain you must be as hungry and thirsty as I am."
For Josephine to speak like that, in as pointed and sharp a tone as she had, in front of a guest meant that the guest had been incredibly rude to her, as well as to Bridget. Masking a sigh—if it had to be an emergency, couldn't it have been one couched in nicer packaging?—Bridget turned to the Revered Mother, standing just behind her so she had to turn her head to respond to the question. "What is this all about?"
The Revered Mother spoke to Josephine rather than turn her head. "We will need both of them to return to Val Royeaux as soon as possible. There are ceremonies. Ordinations. The Maker's work."
"We do the Maker's work here, as well. And we cannot spare our people," Bridget snapped. She didn't care which people they were, she wasn't going to have anyone snatched out from under her nose.
Josephine nodded at her in agreement. "The Inquisitor is right. It is not possible at the moment to grant your request. However, we will take it under advisement."
"Under advisement? We are talking about the next Divine! With the political turmoil, the wars, the conflict … you must agree there is no more important matter facing Thedas."
Privately, Bridget thought Corypheus was a greater threat than Chantry politics, but that response was not going to defuse the situation.
"You will have to deal with that question without the Left and Right Hands of Divine Justinia," Josephine said, practically gritting her teeth. "They are founding members of the Inquisition, and indispensable."
Bridget restrained a gasp. Cassandra and Leliana? That's who the Chantry wanted? Of course they did. While she sympathized with the Chantry, it was hard not to see this as an attack on the Inquisition. Next thing you knew, they'd be after Cullen to head the re-established Templars. "Utterly impossible. Neither of them can be spared from their duties."
"I understand you now have the support of the Empire. Surely you cannot say the Inquisition is so weak as to be endangered by the loss of just two souls." A smug smile crossed the Revered Mother's face.
"If either of them believed the ascension of a new Divine was more important than the Inquisition, they would be there, not here," Josephine said evenly, holding on to her temper with what to Bridget was evident effort.
"I need not remind you that they were Her Holiness's most trusted emissaries. They represent her legacy, her hopes for peace in Thedas. You must allow me to take them." The Revered Mother's tone was growing more strident and less assured as she was forced to consider the possibility that her mission might fail. "They could rally the Grand Clerics to follow as no candidate from the clergy has been able to!"
"Candidate?" Bridget said sharply. "Candidate … for Divine? Cassandra and Leliana? But they are not Revered Mothers!"
The Revered Mother in front of her waved her hand dismissively. "There is precedent. When the clerics have been deadlocked, successors have been chosen from outside the clergy. As Justinia's most trusted friends and advisors, Lady Leliana and Seeker Cassandra's qualifications are more than adequate."
Bridget was torn. Thedas needed a new Divine, and needed it badly. She couldn't argue with that. And the Revered Mother was right—either Leliana or Cassandra, in their own unique ways, would make an excellent candidate. But the Inquisition needed them both. Bridget needed them both. And what was the point of putting someone on the Sunburst Throne if Corypheus was just going to turn around and destroy it—and the rest of Thedas with it? Still, she owed it to both women to allow them to consider the opportunity and decide for themselves.
"Revered Mother," she said, loudly enough to force the woman to turn and look at her for the first time, "your request has been noted. I will personally speak with both Leliana and Cassandra, and if either of them feels that her duty to the Chantry is greater than her duty to the Inquisition, then she will be free to join you in Val Royeaux. But that is an end to the matter. They will be given free choice—but they will not be hounded to make a decision. I hope that is acceptable, because it is the best I can offer you."
"But—"
"You've heard the Inquisitor," Josephine said. "You have your answer. I understand you have been given accommodations within the keep; I hope they are satisfactory." A knock came at the door, and a servant pushed a tea cart through. "Ah. Thank you, Elspeth," Josephine said. "Revered Mother, will you please excuse us? It was rather a long journey."
There was nothing more the Revered Mother could say, and, wisely, she didn't try. She got to her feet, nodded to Josephine, glared at Bridget, and took herself out of the room.
Bridget and Josephine sank down in the chairs before the fire, making inroads on the contents of the tray. Only when they were sitting back at last with fresh cups of tea did Josephine broach the topic again.
"I am sorry to have sprung that on you with no warning. In fairness, I was given none myself. She saw me enter my office and charged in before I could catch my breath."
"I'm glad I could help." Bridget sighed. "If it had been anyone else …"
"No one else would have been needed as badly."
"No. I suppose not."
"It is enough to make me wish I was back at Halamshiral in the thick of The Game." Josephine sighed, shaking her head. "The Chantry simply doesn't play properly."
"The Game nearly ended for good," Bridget reminded her.
"True. It has become too insular in recent years, familiar rivals becoming the only ones worth sparring with. Corypheus skillfully took advantage. Still," she said more briskly, "your actions have secured us allies and favors alike. We must not lose sight of that victory."
"No, I suppose not. A good thought." Bridget got to her feet. "And on that note, I'm going to go unpack and get some rest. I hope you will be able to as well?"
"Yes. I'm going to lock the door behind you."
"A good idea. I'll see you tomorrow at the war meeting."
"Good-night, Inquisitor."
It was not an especially good night. Bridget tossed and turned, her mind racing with the details of the events at the ball, concerns about Leliana and Cassandra and the Chantry, and the general worry about how to find Corypheus and whether she could best him once she did.
She caught up to Cullen on the way to the War Room. "Inquisitor. You seem to have survived your ordeal in one piece."
"Thankfully, yes. I'm glad to have that behind us. And you?" She remembered the entourage he had collected over the course of the ball. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
He gave an exaggerated shudder. "I would be perfectly happy if I never again had to set foot in the Winter Palace. Or any other Orlesian ball or party, for that matter."
"Too much gossip and backstabbing for you?"
"No, not that so much—I know what The Game entails—but the indifference to it all, to everything, as though nothing mattered more than the exact flavor of the canapes …"
"I didn't care much for it myself," Bridget admitted.
"We have similar backgrounds," he said, almost apologetically. "The Chantry can be much the same. Their politics are less extravagant—but just as heated."
"The difference being that the Empress rules a country, but the Divine influences half a continent." She glanced sharply at Cullen. Was he leading into expressing an opinion about Leliana and Cassandra? It was no surprise to Bridget that everyone must know, but it was something of a surprise that Cullen was getting involved.
"Yes. It's a great deal of influence to wield. Perhaps …" He hesitated. "Perhaps too much for one person. Of course, that's tantamount to blasphemy." He held the door of the War Room open for her. "I am glad I don't have to be involved in the choice of the next wielder of that influence."
Bridget nodded, agreeing with the sentiment and appreciating his message, that he wasn't going to be part of the discussion for good or ill.
To Bridget's great surprise, Morrigan was waiting for her in the War Room along with Josephine and Leliana. Josephine seemed unmoved by the new arrival, but the air between Leliana and Morrigan was electric with dislike.
"Inquisitor, you arrive," Morrigan said smoothly. "Your spymaster and I have been catching up on old times."
"Yes. What a delightful experience," Leliana agreed, her voice as smooth and coldly cordial as Morrigan's.
Bridget wasn't certain which of them she found most frightening, and she regretted now allowing Celene to push her into accepting Morrigan as a liaison.
"To business, then?" Cullen asked, his own glances between the two women telling Bridget he was as eager to get the meeting started—and finished—as she was.
"Yes," Josephine responded with some relief. "Let us discuss the state of the Inquisition."
"You have made a favorable expression in Orlais. Celene will send her support wherever I ask her to do so," Morrigan assured them, a smile with a hint of smugness playing about her mouth.
Leliana opened her mouth as if to speak, but Cullen interrupted her. "Having denied Corypheus his army of demons at Adamant and his victory over Orlais, you have weakened him considerably, Inquisitor."
"Our victories have shaken his disciples," Leliana agreed.
"Perhaps they'll be rethinking their decisions," Bridget suggested. "Would we accept Corypheus's deserters?"
"Possibly," Cullen said. "But I would be cautious about it."
"Do we even know where Corypheus is?" Josephine asked.
Cullen replied, "He is moving south, I believe, toward the Arbor Wilds. His army clearly wasn't prepared to flee," he added with some measure of satisfaction. "Our victories have them on the defensive."
Bridget looked down at the War Table, but was unable to find the Arbor Wilds marked there.
"It is a remote area, far to the south," Morrigan told her.
"Filled with elven ruins, which is what we think Corypheus is seeking," Leliana put in. "However," she added reluctantly, "we have been unable to determine what it is he hopes to find."
"Naturally." The smug superiority in Morrigan's tone grated on Bridget's ears, and it wasn't even meant for her. It was no surprise to Bridget that the normally controlled Leliana was almost visibly gnashing her teeth. Without waiting for a response, Morrigan turned to Bridget. "Fortunately, I have knowledge that appears to elude the Inquisition's spies."
"I would appreciate it if you would share that knowledge with us," Bridget said evenly. She had no desire to get in the middle of whatever ancient antagonism the other two women shared, but she also had little patience for Morrigan using the War Room meeting to get under Leliana's skin.
More seriously than she had spoken thus far, Morrigan said, "What Corypheus seeks is as ancient as it is dangerous. However, it is best if I show you, rather than simply trying to explain. You would be unlikely to believe if you had not seen it with your own eyes."
"All of us?" Leliana asked sharply.
"It is the Inquisitor's burden. She must know what she faces."
"Very well. Meeting adjourned." Bridget glanced at her advisors. "I will speak with you later." She went with Morrigan to a room off the gardens, one that had lain unused until Morrigan arrived in the Inquisition.
Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Morrigan said, "What I am about to show you, you may find unbelievable."
"After my time with the Inquisition? I find very few things unbelievable any longer."
"Quick words, Inquisitor. Let us see if they are the truth." She led Bridget inside the room. A large mirror stood in the center, a mirror with a surface that seemed to swirl and shift even as Bridget looked at it. She blinked, disturbed by the motion of it. Morrigan nodded. "It looks different from most mirrors because it is not one. It is an eluvian. An elven artifact from a time long ago."
Bridget tore her fascinated gaze from the eluvian's surface and brought her mind back to the topic that had brought her here. "What does it have to do with Corypheus?"
"There is another eluvian in the Arbor Wilds. That is what he seeks."
"Why? What does it do?"
Morrigan lifted her arms and the surface changed, shifting again, glowing blue in a way that seemed almost … inviting. "A more appropriate question would be 'where does it lead?'. Come, Inquisitor. Let me show you." She made to step into the eluvian, and Bridget's eyebrows flew up in surprise.
"You want me to go with you inside the mirror?"
"Yes."
Bridget was torn. She believed Morrigan had valuable knowledge, and was curious about the use of the eluvian—but there was something about Morrigan that made it difficult to trust her entirely. Who was to say what lay on the other side of this thing?
Morrigan watched her, a little smile on her lips, as if she knew exactly what Bridget was thinking, and then she turned and stepped through the surface, trusting Bridget to follow—which she did, sure that there was no other way to find out what Morrigan knew.
What she found on the other side was astonishing. A world of ruins and strangely shaped trees, a world that existed outside of any time and place recognized in Thedas. Morrigan claimed to know a great deal about it, but her answers to Bridget were evasive and generalized, and Bridget had the impression that she was pretending to know more than she did. Perhaps that was the way Morrigan handled the world, perhaps there was a more sinister reason. Whichever it was, she bore watching.
Her claim that Corypheus's ultimate goal was ownership and use of another eluvian that lay hidden deep in the Arbor Wilds was credible, however, and Bridget made a mental note to have Leliana's people scout ahead and see if they could get to the eluvian first.
She had been putting off speaking to Leliana and Cassandra about the possibility of being named Divine, but she had to speak to Leliana anyway, now, so, little as she wanted to, it was time to broach the topic.
Leliana was leaning over her table, hastily writing a note that she bound on the foot of a raven. The bird winged its way through the window and out into the late afternoon sunlight before Leliana turned to Bridget. "My apologies, Inquisitor. That note could not wait. Is there something in particular you wanted to speak with me about?"
Bridget explained about the eluvian. Leliana listened with interest, and a healthy amount of skepticism.
"You understand, Morrigan has always been most interested in herself, and what she could gain. This is no different. I would be asking myself what she wants in the Arbor Wilds as much as what Corypheus wants."
"You can investigate both, I imagine."
"Yes, indeed I shall."
Bridget hesitated.
"Is there something else?"
"There is. Apparently the Chantry wants you and Cassandra to go to Val Royeaux."
"So. It is true—some look to one of us as Justinia's successor. I never thought the idea would gain momentum."
"You were aware of it?"
"Yes. The other candidates are all out of the picture, after the Conclave, and though we are not Revered Mothers, we were close to the Divine. We knew her wishes, her hopes for Thedas." Leliana's voice was soft, filled with memory and grief.
"Is that what you want?"
"Oh." Leliana sighed. "I … am not certain. When Justinia was alive, I would have laughed at anyone who suggested such a thing. But now … Things have changed. Still, it is hard to say." She looked around the rookery. "I have work here that needs doing, and that I can do better than any. But the Divine is a powerful force for good in Thedas—at least, she can be. Do I not have a duty in that direction as well?"
"It won't be easy."
"No. Restoring the Chantry will be like trying to steer a sinking vessel through a storm."
"Perhaps the ship isn't worth restoring," Bridget ventured, knowing she spoke heresy, but feeling it ought to be at least suggested.
"You would have us leap from the ship straight into the stormy sea? No, Inquisitor, abandoning the Chantry is not the answer." She looked Bridget straight in the eye. "You think Thedas hates mages now? If the Chantry falls, who will the people blame? Those they already fear. They will blame magic, and those who use it."
Bridget couldn't argue with that. "So the only chance is to try to pull the Chantry back together?"
"It is the only way to peace. The people care for simple things. Their world is small; everything beyond it is unknown and something to fear. They must be shown another way if they are to look outside their world at the unfamiliar with curiosity instead." Leliana smiled. "Nonetheless, Corypheus must be dealt with before there is any chance to change things in other ways. Let us discuss this again when he is dead."
"So you'll stay until then?"
"Of course. I will not leave you, Inquisitor. That is my promise."
"Thank you." Bridget wanted to add something more, but everything that needed to had already been said, it seemed. She excused herself to let Leliana get back to work.
She went straight from the rookery to the blacksmith's shop where Cassandra liked to spend her time. She said despite the noise, it was the quietest place in the Inquisition. Bridget supposed she understood that—few people could tolerate the constant pounding of hammers, and so Cassandra was left in relative peace.
Usually. Today, Mother Giselle had already preceded Bridget in disturbing Cassandra's meditations, and apparently for similar reasons.
Both of them turned to look at the door as Bridget came in.
"I take it you are here because of this foolish notion?" Cassandra asked.
"The clerics are still sequestered. Inquisitor, please impress on her the need for a speedy decision. They will remain sequestered until a proper candidate—"
Cassandra turned on Mother Giselle, fire in her eyes. "I do not need the Inquisitor to explain to me the workings of the Chantry! But I fail to see how I could make them agree. It is not my gift to bring people together in that manner."
"You must give yourself the chance to try."
"And fail? How will that help the Chantry?"
Mother Giselle closed her eyes as if in silent prayer. "Your Worship, please talk to her," she said when she had opened them again. She left the building, massaging her temples with one hand.
"I'm sorry," Bridget said when she had gone. "I had hoped to speak with you before the Chantry began pushing its agenda."
"You have had much on your mind. And this is not an Inquisition matter, anyway. They should not have involved you. But, of course, after Halamshiral, the Empress favors you, so all of Thedas will be rushing to you for opinions, advice, and anything else they can gain."
"Lucky me."
Cassandra smiled. "Most would think so." She sighed. "They could at least have asked us if we were interested."
"Are you?"
"Why? Are you considering offering an opinion to the Chantry?"
"No. I just want to know what you're thinking. If it helps, I think you would make an excellent Divine."
Cassandra looked startled, then her face softened. "Thank you. But truly, I never look good in hats."
Bridget snorted a surprised laugh at the rare joke, and Cassandra gave her a pleased smile.
"So, what is it that you want?"
"I … do not know. I look at the Chantry, the Circle of Magi, the Templars, and I wish I could see them as they were when they began, to understand how they came to be the way they are. This—the way things are today cannot have been the intention."
"What would you change?"
"I would want the Chantry to be a place people came for faith, for hope. For peace." She nodded. "Yes. There should be more of those things in Thedas. For the longest time, as a Seeker, I did what I was told, but now my faith demands that I see with better eyes, clearer eyes."
"Then do so. You have the vision, the understanding. You just need to feel it."
"Did you know that Varric is Andrastian?" Cassandra said suddenly. "Oh, he blasphemes with every breath, but he believes. His heart is virtuous."
"I'll have to tell him you said so."
"Don't you dare." Cassandra gave her a mock glare. "But the point is—he would never step foot in a Chantry. And yet, the Chantries should be where the virtuous turn. They should welcome all."
"It sounds like you've given the future of the Chantry a great deal of thought. If it needs to change, why should you not be the one to change it?"
"It is a thought," Cassandra admitted.
"And Leliana?"
"She and I remember a different Justinia. Leliana wants to change things, too, but she wants to change them from the outside in, by fiat. I would like to change the heart of the Chantry, work from the inside out, make the people see new ways themselves."
It was oddly opposite for their two characters, Bridget reflected, but the point stood, and Cassandra wasn't wrong.
"And what would you do about the Circles?" she asked.
"They have their place—mages need specialized training. But they need reform. Let the mages govern themselves, with help that they ask for." She held up a hand before Bridget could break in. "Yes, I know that is a slippery slope, but one has to start somewhere."
Bridget supposed so. While she, too, would have liked to make that change, she wasn't certain Thedas was ready for it.
"And if the Chantry calls on you?"
"I will do whatever I can, for as long as I can. I am here with you until the need for my presence and skills is greater elsewhere."
"I am grateful for that. I … would miss you a great deal, if you were no longer with the Inquisition."
Cassandra reached out, the fingers of one hand brushing lightly against Bridget's arm, the Seeker's equivalent of a warm hug. "I would miss you as well." She shook her head. "For now, the clerics speak my name, nothing more. Let us not cloud today with tomorrow's problems."
"If only it were that easy."
"If only. Good-night, Inquisitor."
"Good-night, Cassandra."