06 Justinian, 9:32
To Varric Tethras,
From Maeve,
Just got back from Denerim. I didn't think any city in the world could make me wish I was back in Kirkwall, but that place managed it. If you need cariactures of arrogant bastards all puffed up for defeating the Blight faster than any other, swing by sometime. You'll find plenty, especially among the ones who weren't actually involved in the fighting at all.
Even better, they apparently ditched Orlais but kept their opinions on Elves. Heard more than one snide comment that if Alistair & Anora are giving the Dalish the Brecilian forest, then they might as well evict all other elves and make them live there. Plus a few mutters that Ferelden would have been better off if Howe had finished selling the entire Alienage to Tevinter.
As an aside; watching Carver and Hawke beating the crap out of said muttering nobles was hilarious.
We're going to be in Amaranthine until August, then we're off to the Dalish along with the new Wardens to try and soothe tensions out there. Means you have plenty of time to send me more things to read.
Maeve
10 Solace, 9:32
To Squire Cousland,
From Squire Fiolya,
Lady Maeve actually flirted with the Arlessa yesterday! She still got rather quiet after, but I think it was a good sign. I hope it is, at least. She's been sleeping far better over the past month as well, there were a few peaceful nights even with neither of us beside her.
We're mostly training in the mornings. She must have been holding back with the bow before, because she's really quite good with it now. Not as good as the Arlessa, or even Lady Charade, but still very good.
As for your other question, I'm sorry, but I you must be really desperate if you're asking me for that kind of advice. If you really want to get the Knight-Captain's notice that badly, you can write to the Lady and ask her opinion instead.
No news on when we'll be going back to Kirkwall. I know the Lady said six months to a year, but between us I don't think she ever actually wants to go back.
- F
P.S. Mistress Leandra has been helping with my penmanship, I hope it's more legible than usual?
18 Solace, 9:32
From Anora Mac-Tir Theirin, Queen of Ferelden,
To the Lady Maeve, Knight of Kirkwall,
Lady Maeve,
I am aware that we have only met in passing, and spoke little during your prior visit to Denerim. Despite this, I find myself in the circumstance of needing your advice and assistance; tensions in the southeast have begun growing worse faster than anticipated. Relations between the Dalish and the local Banns may come to bloodshed before the Warden-Commander can arrive.
I am taking a risk in leaving my kingly husband to rule in Denerim, and am heading to the Brecilian Forest myself to mediate along with Arl Teagon, and Arlessa Hawke. I ask that you accompany us, along with your Dalish companion, to provide any advice that you may offer.
Given your prior lack of desire to get involved in our Kingdom's politics, I assure you that I would not involve you in any of the direct meetings, and that the crown shall compensate you for your time and travel.
~ Dictated by the Queen's secretary
03 August, 9:32
To Allistair,
From Lelliana,
I'm sorry old friend, but I haven't had any more luck finding Elissa than you have. I can tell you that she definitely crossed into Orlais, but she has since vanished. Considering the size of the Empire, I'm not sure we'll find her unless she makes a mistake and enters a major city.
I know King Bhelen told you that he is not sheltering any of the Wardens wanted by Ferelden and the Chantry, but you know my opinion of him and his 'advisor'. I think it's more than likely that at least Greg and Bethany are there, and that Elissa is on her way to join them if she already hasn't.
As for your other request, again, I'm sorry, but I have new duties in Orlais now. I don't think I'll be making it back to Ferelden for some time.
Your friend,
Lelliana
Ulcu-Ambal
The second apocalypse of its existence began with yet another great roar through its world. Its awareness sharpened, focused, its power gathered defensively around it when the ring of mortal magic washed through the currents.
And it watched as the Golden City blackened with the corruption of the Void.
It could not claim any great knowledge of that corruption, save what scraps it had learned from the true eldest of its kind. But it was sure that it knew enough to be concerned, fearful, wary. It knew that the world had once again changed, entering a new era.
That time it was readier, older, wiser. It wasted no time with casual dreams, with mere drifting. It sent its power flooding down the paltry few tethers it was so proud of then, sending a chorus of alarm into its mortal contractors. It warned them, and it demanded information in return.
It quickly learned what had happened; Seven Mortals had breached its home with the power of a thousand blood sacrifices, brute-forcing their way past the Dread Wolf's Veil to travel deeper than any Elvehn had dared. Reaching for that which was unreachable... and unleashing powers that they could not control as a result.
The other mortals had been horrified on the return of their leaders, had hurled them out of the great city, casting them down into the darkness.
That same darkness from which corrupted creatures were now clawing their way out of, rampaging across the mortal realm, attacking all; the Children of Stone were supposedly dying in droves, as were the Men and the Shadows of the Elvehn.
It had hesitated for a great time, considering what to do. It was bombarded by desperate desires for power, for safety, for victory, for survival... yet it well remembered the summons that had bound it. Left it shackled, a puppet to a mere mortal.
...it watched the Corrupted, and felt... disgusted by them. It watched them Blight the mortal land, the air. Even the currents of its world began to feel tainted as their power rose and spread.
It finally acted, joining the Chorus of the Fade; a great assembly of Spirits, flooding the dreams of mortals. It soothed their souls, gave them the dreams of better days that they desired. The memories of what they longed for.
Others gave them inspiration, courage, hope. Gave them the wisdom to seek a weapon in the very corruption of their enemy, to turn its most powerful asset against it.
It helped that great war, and it learned much watching its elders.
Watching ancient Wisdom trade mortal knowledge for its own, accumulating more power with each exchange.
Watched Imshael, Elder of Choice, grant great power to those that pleased it, even as it consumed the magic of those that did not.
Watched Nightmare grow ever more massive on the feast of a war that lasted for mortal centuries.
It observed, it learned, it helped.
...and when the Blight Ended, it carefully kept a host of tethers to itself... and it decided to be more than a mere Spirit of Desire. That it had grown beyond such a minor name. That it had become something more, something focused, and it would continue to grow to find the answers it so desired.
It took a name.
It would be Longing.