8 Haring, 9:33
To King Alisitair Theirin, Queen Anora Mac-Tir-Theirin,
From Arlessa Marian Hawke,
Your majesties are cordially invited to the wedding of my brother, Carver Hawke, on Wintersend. We hope that you shall grace us with your presence, and bless the union in the name of the Maker and his Bride.
Arlesaa Marian Hawke
A second letter it tucked into the envelope, its scrawl far more hasty
Sorry for the flowery, official stuff. Mother insisted. Yes, Carver finally got his courage up to ask for her hand, which I appreciated. I'm a lot less appreciative of this whole winter wedding thing, and mother's getting depressed over Bethany's absence again. Could use you both here to help distract her a bit when we aren't playing our roles as pompous nobles.
- Hawke
29 Haring, 9:33
To Hawke,
From Maeve,
Sorry, Hawke, but we're all the way up in Antiva right now, and we've got an arrangement up in Rivain that we need to get to after some repairs to the ship. It'll probably be close to Wintersend by the time you get this, so no chance that we'll be there.
Tell Carver we're sorry we can't make it, and we'll buy him a really big sword to make it up to him.
I think the plan right now is to spend next year on the sea with Isabella still. Merrill's made good progress on her project, and picking up some loot from Tevinter ships really helped her along thanks to how much the 'Vint's magic was based on Arlathon's. Fiolya and I are having a lot of fun playing pirate too. It's... freeing, being on the sea like this.
We probably will winter over in Kirkwall next year, make Varric happy, finally put in appearance, but I don't plan on staying there long term again.
Maeve
30 Haring, 9:33
Paragon of Manliness,
Nothing like an Antivan party on New Years Eve, watching Maeve run around chasing a half-naked and very drunk kitten around the bar. They're both laughing like maniacs, and its good to see. We probably won't stay long, I think there's a few Crows interested in us, so we'll be heading back to Rivain soon.
I'm sending a bundle of notes for the book you said you're writing, all about how our fun on the seas has gone. Short version? We've had a damned good year.
Still, I'm worried about Maeve, Varric. She knows more than I expected about sailing, about naval tactics, and about Qunari powder and their weapons. Not really specific stuff, but she knows enough to make me think her people are more than familiar with all of it. Especially gaatlok. She was disgusted at how 'primitive' the Qunari's weapons were, and helped me get a blacksmith who usually makes ship anchors make better versions for my ship. I'm probably going to have to kill him when he's done, even if he doesn't know the actual recipe for the powder.
Which Maeve sort of does. She knew the ingredients at least, if not the actual recipe, but one of my crew figured it out from there. I thanked him, then I had to cut this throat two days later when he tried to sneak off to sell it to someone. I'm going to keep using the Qunari's version, stolen only, because they're less likely to declare an all out war just to kill Maeve and I if they figure out we can make our own.
I appreciated the thought from her, but I think it's proof she's not working at her best anymore. The Maeve from Kirkwall wouldn't have said anything, and she's... having moments that concern me. Her stargazing is still a thing, and she's gotten less and less interested in going after the Vints or the Qun. If Merrill and I weren't doing our best to keep her busy I think she'd end up doing nothing but staring at the sea and sky.
Oh, and I don't think Maeve's noticed yet, but Merrill's definitely developed some feelings. Not the sisterly kind either. Do we help that along, or do I seduce the kitten before any heartbreak can happen?
I think some fun in bed is exactly what they both need, but I'm also pretty sure that Maeve will break the kitten's heart, and then I'll have to kill her. Much sadness all around.
Captain Isabella
10 Guardian, 9:34
Rivaini,
Definitely encourage them. Daisy would be good for her, better than you'd be. No offense, but your first love is the sea, and I think Buzz needs someone a little more stable to balance her out. Plus you know how attached she gets. First time you choose sailing over her, and it won't end well. Also, there will be no killing of her. We'll just beat some sense into her like the good friends we are, and lock them in a room together until Maeve properly grovels for forgiveness.
As for the rest, let's not confront her about anything just yet. I want to see her in person first, see how she's doing. I think a lot of it might be how close Daisy's mirror is to being done, and what that's going to mean to the both of them. I think we're in agreement that there isn't any idyllic elven paradise waiting in the north, and that there's a lot more about how she got here that she's not telling us. I've also got a feeling if we ask her she's going to dive into the bottle again, and I'd really rather not see that happen. Let me think about it for a while longer, figure out a better way to talk to her about it. If she really is going to visit during the winter, I'll pull her aside and get her to talk to me.
Tell her she better show up for that, by the way. I'm still broken hearted that she didn't come back last year like she said she would.
Varric
Attached is a second later, far more hastily scribbled,
Rivaini, get back here soonest. I've got a confirmed lead on Bartrand. I'm grabbing Blondie and Broody and going after him, will send you something more detailed you can share with Buzz as soon as I have a plan.
Ana n-fir
Longing watched the mortal's memories once more.
It felt the plastic beneath her fingers, heard the voices from the speakers, saw the shells of spirits on the screen. It watched as Maeve... played through Kinloch Hold, as she sided with the mages. Saved them from the Templars.
Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.
A furious dismissal of the memories left Longing fuming, that constant ache of acting against its nature barely noticeable against its immense frustration with what it had learned. What it had witnessed.
That Maeve was from another world was something it had been prepared to accept. It was a fantastical concept, even to a spirit, but such a thing was surely possible. Longing itself existed in a world split in twain after all, so the idea that there could be yet more realms? Incredible that a mere mortal could journey between them, yes, but certainly not impossible.
This, however? This was impossible.
This was how Maeve had known so much when she had first arrived. When Longing had first found her dreams. How she'd known where to go, what events to track, known who she desired to speak with to go home.
Longing fumed some more, twisting itself around in the soaring currents of the Fade.
It had spoken with Wisdom, traded other baubles of knowledge for whatever that Eldest spirit knew of other worlds... which had been nothing. Bad mortal poetry, half-scribbled notes from mortal mages on the concept, but nothing more. The other had told her to speak to the Wolf, which Longing had refused to do.
Maeve had been clear on that point. The Wolf was to know nothing, and Longing was in accord with the mortal on that. That old beast would interfere in the most irritating of ways if it learned of her, of her origins.
Wisdom did have a theory on Maeve's sudden skill with a bow, with the expansion of her mana, the flood of power into her soul. Longing had listened... and had not liked that theory in the slightest. Nor its implications.
It had not told Maeve yet. Nor would it, until it had a better second opinion.
To that end Longing spoken with Curiosity, with Seeker, with Collection. It had harassed a dozen lesser Spirits of Knowledge, had sent those Desires beholden to it to question a hundred dreaming mages.
None knew more than Wisdom on either matter.
Longing flared its power fitfully, trying to ease the emotions it felt, to center itself properly. None of this truly harmed its long term plans regarding the mortal. The primary plan was still very much in play, as was the secondary. It merely had to continue as it had been, keep Maeve protected, sheltered, armored.
Keep old fools like Nightmare or Grief or Imshael from harming her more than the first pair already had.
It had to continue to aid her, so that she remained amenable to Longing's intentions when the time came to tell her its own desires.
...but if there was some kind of connection between Maeve's world and its own, then...
A surge of power raced up a tether, a voice echoing within the magic. "Longing. Get your purple ass down here, we need to talk."
Longing pulled itself together, surging down that trail of magic, its reply preceding it.
"At once, dear host."