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In a rare moment of companionship, Solas came out of his atrium to join Bridget and Dorian at dinner. He, too, wrinkled his nose at the lamb and pea stew, but Bridget noticed that the many Fereldans in the Inquisition seemed to enjoy it, so she tackled hers with some pretense at gusto.

"Solas, will you tell us of some of the travels you took in your dreams? In order to take our minds off … what we're eating," she added, as he appeared reluctant.

"Very well." He took a bite and made a face. "Perhaps I can distract myself as well. What would you like to hear?"

"Tell us of a spirit you encountered," Dorian suggested. Alone amongst them he seemed undisturbed by the sight of the grey glop, which rather surprised Bridget, given Dorian's general appreciation for the finer things in life.

Solas eyed Dorian with skepticism, but he nodded, thinking for a moment, then he looked at the stew and smiled. "Long, long ago, the Alamarri crossed the Frostback Mountains. They were fleeing a beast they called the Shadow Goddess in their stories. I met the spirit they had fled. She walks the Fade along the southern tundra, weeping, lonely, and forgotten. Great Ferelden formed because a lonely spirit drove her prey away."

"How sad." Bridget could imagine it, the shadowy figure wandering, wringing her hands, crying with loneliness. "Poor thing."

"Yes."

"What about ruins? You said you've fallen asleep there before."

"And you weren't overrun with spiders?" Dorian asked with an exaggerated shudder.

"The spiders don't bother you if you leave them alone … and occasionally offer them something to eat." Solas continued, "Once, I found an ancient dwarven thaig no longer sheltered by the Stone. An earthquake had exposed it all to daylight. A thousand dwarven corpses lay, the victims of a darkspawn horde, their last stand marked by one great ring of armor." He glanced at Bridget, then away, before finishing. "In the center, one small body, clutching tightly to what remained of a small stuffed toy."

"Oh!" Her hand went to her stomach.

"The history of Thedas is not a kind one. Death and destruction have marked it. We cannot fail to face that truth, much as we may wish to," he said to her, not unkindly. "In a dream, I witnessed a single dwarf emerge into the light of day and shield his eyes against the sun, the first time he had seen it. The tears were streaming from his eyes. I thought at first they were from the blazing light until I saw the rock he held so tightly. Then he laid the rock down gently, and he left it there as he walked away. Many of us are like that dwarf—we cling to our past until eventually we realize we must put it away, and walk into our future." Abruptly, Solas pushed his bowl away and rose to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I find that I cannot stomach any more of this."

Bridget made the assumption that he meant the food, although she supposed he might easily as well have meant the company, or the conversation. With Solas, it was hard to tell.

Dorian watched him go, his head tilted to the side as though he found the other mage a curiosity, but he made no remark.

Then he turned his head the other direction. "Don't look now, my dear, but you are about to have company."

"I already have company."

"More exalted even than mine," he said, and he, too, abruptly rose and excused himself, just as Vivienne approached from Bridget's other side.

"Inquisitor. Might I have a few moments of your time? In my rooms, if you don't mind, where I can offer you something slightly more to your taste than … this." Her lip curled as she studied the remaining grey mush in Bridget's bowl.

With some relief, Bridget rose, happy to accept the invitation.

In Vivienne's rooms, with tea and cakes that were significantly more palatable than the stew, Bridget waited for the other mage to come to the point. Vivienne was in no hurry, sipping her tea slowly and with enjoyment.

"I wonder if you know, my dear, how far the Inquisition's influence has spread," she said at last.

"What type of influence do you mean?"

"It has occurred to me that our opinion may well be instrumental in the election of the new Divine."

Bridget didn't miss the term "our opinion" buried in the words, and she wondered where Vivienne was going with this. "I can't imagine that the Grand Clerics will care what the Inquisition wants."

"They pray for the Maker's guidance, and they see you standing as a beacon. I doubt it would come to anything as straightforward as offering the Inquisition a vote, but our actions will certainly influence their decision. To sit on the Sunburst Throne," she said musingly, "a candidate should have grace, charm, and a will of solid steel. Cassandra may lack the first two, but unless you can think of someone better, she is the strongest choice."

Bridget wasn't excited by the idea of losing either Cassandra or Leliana to the Chantry, certainly not until Corypheus was dead, and possibly not after, depending on what happened to the Inquisition at that point. "Surely there are candidates from outside the Chantry who would be acceptable. Cassandra and Leliana cannot be the only choices."

"The Chantry is already desperate—they would not be looking to unordained women, even the former Right and Left Hands of the Divine, if they had any other choice. You may have better luck searching the halls of the Imperial Court," Vivienne added, with a pretense of idle thought, but Bridget saw where she was going with this now. "There are many women serving the Empire with the necessary presence and acumen."

"I'll have to think carefully about this," Bridget said, determined not to commit herself to anything Vivienne might be able to construe as a show of support. Vivienne as Divine? Bridget couldn't dismiss the idea out of hand, but she'd have to give it a great deal of consideration before she agreed to such a thought.

Vivienne nodded. "With guidance, I am certain you will steer the clerics in the proper direction. We will have to be very mindful of everything we do and say, for the Conclave certainly is doing the same." She looked Bridget up and down. "I know this is a difficult time to be considering one's clothing, my dear, but perhaps I could have you speak with my seamstress. Appearances are important, after all. We cannot have you mistaken for a commoner."

Bridget shrugged. "I have never been particularly concerned with maintaining the distinction of rank."

"It is not about rank, darling. It's about power. You command an army of the faithful, outfitted by the coin of the nobility. You must be a woman whom commoners aspire to be and to whom nobles bow."

"That's quite a lot for one person to pull off, don't you think?"

"It is a challenge all great leaders must face, Inquisitor. The stories of your accomplishments will spread and, with them, doubt. Are you truly the woman from the tales? They will question what they've heard, but they will believe what they see. They must see someone greater than legends."

It all sounded quite exhausting to Bridget. Looking up at Vivienne, she met the other mage's eyes squarely. "If that's your standard for me, what does a proper candidate for the Divine have to live up to?"

A faint smile crossed Vivienne's face. "Andraste and the Maker do cast long shadows. The Divine must set the example for all of Thedas. She must seem to be the embodiment of the Maker to the faithful. She needs the authority of the Maker and the charisma of Andraste. It will be no small task to fill that vacant throne."

"It will not," Bridget agreed. She put her teacup down. "You have given me a great deal to think of, Vivienne."

"I hope that you will give my thoughts due consideration."

"Absolutely."

Bridget made her exit as hastily and politely as she could, and stood for a moment in the corridor outside Vivienne's door wondering how exactly to manage such naked ambition and determination. Vivienne was likely to remain patient as long as they still hunted Corypheus, but as soon as he was dead, Bridget would have to find a way to handle the other mage … and she wasn't sure she looked forward to it.