"Well this is certainly awkward," said Lelianna.
"I knew you were nothing more than common thieves," Isolde hissed, but didn't make a move to either of them. Of course. There's nobody to fight this battle for her. She has nobody. If Bann Teagan saw this he would probably strangle her himself… unless there's far more to him than I thought.
"Bit of an Antivan standoff, isn't it," said Ten, closing her eye again, "Do you have any idea what this poison feels like, Arlessa? To answer my own question, it's horrible. And I got a fraction of the dose. I'm guessing the Teyrn did not see fit to send you an antidote."
"Ah," Isolde sighed, a sharp, perfunctory sound, realizing what exactly the two common thieves had found in her boudoir.
"What was it? Dizzy spells in the early days?" Ten asked, "Then enough to knock him out? Then enough to keep him out? Then enough to finally end it all, Arlessa?"
"Foolish woman," Isolde sighed, "I may as well just wait, it will kill you eventually."
"I don't think it will," said Ten, "After all, I had the tiniest drop, and your husband is in the other room, still breathing - if barely - after half the bottle. You have no guards, no retainers, your knights are scattered throughout the land hunting down a myth. And do you think Teagan will continue to defend you as he does once he finds this out?"
"It was for my boy," Isolde said, an imploring edge to her voice.
"Your boy, who's currently fighting for his life against forces neither you nor I fully understand because you were too stubborn to send him away?" Ten countered.
"He will come through," said Isolde, "The mages have assured me of that."
"And at the end, he will be sent to the Circle, where he will only be Connor, he will never be Arl of Redcliffe. You will have no grandchildren - at least not legitimate ones - and you will live here until the old man dies, and then, what will become of you? Who knows? A convent if you're lucky."
"This life was not my choice," said Isolde. Ten felt pressure on the end of the couch and realized that the noblewoman had sat down heavily by her feet, "If I had had my own way I would have wed… oh I don't know. Not some old man my father thought would save my family's fortune."
"Was Eamon cruel to you?" asked Lelianna.
Isolde was quiet for a long moment, "No," she finally said, "Not in the way you hear of some husbands being cruel to their wives. He just… it is like I am not a person. Those gowns, that jewelry… It is like being a poupée that little girls play with. You dress them up, you show them off, make all the other children jealous, then you put them away on the shelf where they gather dust until you wish to show them off again. Connor was the only good thing to come out of this life. When he is gone, I will have no reason to continue living it. I just ask that you wait until I have said farewell to him, and you will not need to bother having me executed."
"Hold on," said Ten, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Who said anything about execution?"
"That is what happens to women who poison their husbands, is it not?" said Isolde.
"It certainly does, if they're caught," said Ten.
"But you have caught me," said Isolde, "That was your whole point, no?"
"We aren't law enforcement," said Ten, "I'm actually rather the opposite. I have no great feelings about Eamon as a person, my interest in seeing him live is purely political. And you have not killed him yet." She tried opening her eyes. Her vision was much clearer now, though not entirely returned to normal.
"What are you proposing?" asked Isolde, looking at her suspiciously.
"Let's think about this practically," said Ten, "We three, as of right now, are the only people in the land who know what you did. It is not particularly in my interest for that to be known outside of us three. Lelianna, do you care?"
"Not if the greater good is to be served another way," Lelianna said. She had pulled up an overstuffed chair and was seated across from them, dagger in hand, ostensibly prepared for if the arlessa decided to try anything.
"You see, Arlessa, It's a much simpler story, the one your blood mage told while your men were going after him with hot irons and thumbscrews. And regardless of whether he did Eamon in or not, he, being a blood mage, has already signed his own death warrant. He has only two choices - the noose or the lam," said Ten, "You, however, could walk out of this with your hands looking clean as a spring morning."
"How?" asked Isolde, genuinely interested.
"Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am very good at keeping my mouth shut when the occasion demands it," said Ten, "And whether I do or not really depends on whether you decide to abruptly change your attitude towards me."
"You… you would do that?" asked Isolde.
Ten sat up. The world lurched around her, but her feet found the floor without too much trouble. It was running through her system, thank the Maker, "I think you will find, my lady, that I am, above all things, a pragmatic woman. Your execution would not serve anyone. I don't think you particularly have it out for your husband - and far be it from me to judge you if you do - but Lelianna and I are keeping this letter and this poison and the moment something else happens to him they will be made public. Should we be asked to keep them private, I do expect that you will be a friend to us going forward. The type of friend who recognizes a lifesaving favor, and responds in kind."
Isolde looked at her for a long time. She started to speak twice, but thought better of it. Finally, she said, "I see you have learned somewhere how to play the game. I wouldn't have expected that from one of you Fereldans. Especially an elf. You are such a brash people, after all."
"I see you have never bothered to get acquainted with many of your staff, if that's what you believe," said Ten, "It must have made it easier to watch them die."
"And I am receiving my comeuppance on that count," Isolde declared, "The fact that you are sitting in my dressing room, sullying my fine furniture, and holding my life in your dirty little hands is an insult from which my soul will likely never recover. And yet, here we are."
"So tell me, my lady," Ten said, emphasizing the last two words, drawing them out, "Was Teagan in on it?"
"Why would you think such a thing?" Isolde asked.
"If Connor is sent away, and Eamon dies, who stands to gain the most?" asked Ten, "It's not you."
"You underestimate him," said Isolde, "The man is loyal to his brother, to a fault. He would probably kill me himself if he found out. Which I trust he will not?"
"Would he now," Lelianna said, a wry smile creeping over the edges of her mouth.
"You know the two of you are not exactly subtle," said Ten.
"Ha! Is that what you believe!" Isolde exclaimed, "Don't get me wrong. If I gave him an opportunity to betray Eamon in that manner I imagine he probably would. But no, it is much more useful to keep him on the line. Keep people speculating."
"So you could pin it on him if you had to," said Ten, "Have the people gossip. The old man dies, the dashing younger brother inherits everything, including the lovely foreign wife. It is a good story. But no, we're not going to do that. He's not clever enough to be dangerous. The blood mage is a much better patsy. Though the one thing I absolutely insist upon is that we at least give Jowan the option of the lam, rather than the noose."
"He's still a blood mage," said Isolde, "As you pointed out."
"And I'm not law enforcement," said Ten, "As I also pointed out."
"I see how keeping me alive and in your debt serves you," said Isolde, "What does keeping him alive do?"
"I feel sorry for him," said Ten, "He's a foolish young man who got in over his head."
"Foolish young men cause most of the problems in the world," said Isolde, "Look at poor King Cailan."
"Foolish young men cause problems when cynical old men pull their strings," Ten corrected.
"Better they be pulled by cynical women?" Lelianna asked.
"Well of course," said Ten, "It is the natural order of things."
"I have no great feelings one way or the other about Jowan," said Isolde.
"You had him tortured so he would confess to a crime you committed," said Ten, "Frankly, a brilliant if absolutely brutal move, but I feel you at least owe him his freedom."
"I'm sure we could arrange a distraction. The mages are occupied," said Lelianna, "There is a single templar here, and he looks like he would lose a fight with a bumblebee. If you can get those two to the main hall, I can get the mage out before anyone notices."
"Whatever could you be suggesting?" Isolde asked.
"Well, Arlessa," said Lelianna, "You came out on the worse end of the last round. How would you like a rematch?"
To her surprise, Isolde giggled when she realized what Lelianna meant. "They'll probably stand around for fifteen minutes trying to figure out if they should break us up."
"And it is, after all, best that everyone thinks the two of you can't stand each other," Lelianna said.
"I mean, we can't," said Ten, "She thinks I'm an uppity knife-eared bitch who has ambitions above my station and I think she's a petty tyrant who takes out her own frustrations on those who can't fight back. And you know what? We're both right."
"Fair enough. Go find some glassware you don't care about," said Lelianna, "We're going to have to make a dreadful racket to summon them down from the tower."
Ten found herself in a very strange position, where she was putting on a show, in cahoots with someone she did not like, to manipulate people she generally did like, all for the benefit of someone she genuinely did not feel one way or another about. Then again, the show was the two of them approximating beating the tar out of each other and making a mess of the one she didn't like's house, so she felt a bit better about it. She did, however, appreciate the subtle look of delight on the arlessa's face as she smashed a plate against the wall behind her own head. Ten had found an enormous pewter serving platter from the kitchens, which made a terrific clatter when she dropped it on the floor. She stood to the side as the arlessa, now grinning gleefully, flung an entire tea set her way.
Footsteps echoes in the hallway. Ten made eye contact with Lelianna, who was in the corner of the hall, ready to go around to the staircase to the southwest tower. Evidently, Isolde had been stewing on the beating Ten had dished out the previous day, and intended to take this bout far more seriously than she was. While Ten was nodding to Lelianna, sending her out, Isolde got the drop on her, and rushing up with a speed Ten did not know she possessed, knocked her back to the floor. Ten, who had only just recovered from the dose of the teyrn's poison she'd given herself, failed to catch herself and heard her head crack on the floor before she felt it, saw stars dance before her. The arlessa knelt and seized her by the shoulders, dragging her head up, and dropping it on the floor again.
"If you kill me, it is absolutely going public," Ten hissed in her ear.
"I'm not going to kill you," she said, her voice borderline maniacal, "But it has to look real."
A door from the main hall banged open.
"What in the…" Cullen's voice rang out.
"Again?!" It was Teagan, by the sound of it right behind the young templar.
"Head injuries are fucking risky you rank cunt," Ten growled. She grabbed the mostly intact teapot from the ground beside her head and cracked it against Isolde's cheekbone.
"Ooh!"
"Oh that's not… do we stop them?"
"Shut up and play along, gutter trash," Isolde snarled, taking the hit like a champion, and getting down, putting her hands around Ten's throat as blood was running down her face and into Ten's. She pressed down, not hard enough to be dangerous, but certainly hard enough to be uncomfortable, and no amount of wriggling would get her to back off.
"She's going to kill her if she keeps that up! Can't you… stop them?"
"No, no, I want to see this."
Ten shut her eyes to keep the flowing blood out of them . Ten's hands scrabbled for more broken crockery, but the teapot had shattered and there was no way to use it without risking actual damage, though if this went on, she might not have a choice. She grabbed a shard about six inches long and brought it to the arlessa's throat.
"I will put this in your jugular if you don't ease the fuck off," she said in a hard whisper, "And your legacy will be what I say it is."
And then, blessedly, the hands were gone from her throat, but not because Isolde had taken the threat seriously, but because Teagan had seized her around the waist and was physically dragging her away. Ten rolled over, took stock of herself. The vertigo - perhaps from the poison, perhaps from cracking her head on the floor - was back, and she stayed there on hands and knees a moment, waiting for it to pass. When she rose, she saw that Teagan had wrestled Isolde to the other end of the room, and poor Cullen was standing between Ten and the other two, a look of utter bafflement on his face.
"Maker's breath, what happened here?!" he asked, "Are you all right, Teneira?"
"I'll live," said Ten, reaching back and brushing bits of broken porcelain out of her hair.
"Forgive me, Miss Tabris," said Teagan, getting around arm around Isolde, who was making a great show of struggling to get out of his grasp and go after Ten again, "I didn't think she would leave her son's side to pick another fight with a woman who trounced her so thoroughly the last time. Because that is actually insane. Did you say something to her?"
"Why do you think I started it?" asked Ten, "That one is a sadistic bloodthirsty bitch with no guards to do her bidding. She's completely taken leave of her senses!"
"That one is nothing but a filthy streetwalker with delusions of grandeur who thinks she's above her station," Isolde said.
"I'm almost impressed she got you on the ground," Cullen said.
"Bitch has fifty pounds on me," Ten said. And if I'd actually put any effort into that she'd be dead.
"Fifty!" Isolde exclaimed, "Please, Teagan, that deserves at least a little smack with my shoe."
"Well you don't have the drop on me this time, Arlessa, let's go!" Ten shouted, striding forward, and was thankful for the reflexes of the young templar who seized her by both shoulders and dragged her back. She made a show of trying to get out of his grasp.
"What has gotten into you?" Teagan exclaimed.
"She has forgotten her place," Isolde snarled, "And I will remind her of it!"
Lelianna chose that moment to arrive, "Maker's breath, what is going on here?"
"I honestly have no idea," Cullen said, "We heard a commotion, thought the boy had managed to loose more demons or raise the dead or something, we ran down to see what it was and the two of them were just wailing on each other."
"Teneira, remember we spoke about keeping our tempers and allowing the Maker's grace into our hearts?" Lelianna said, walking up to Teneira, her voice gentle, but stern.
"Yeah I'm working on it, sister," said Ten, shaking Cullen's hands off of her.
"It is the only way to escape," said Lelianna, raising her voice, "Escape the clutches of our lowest nature, that is. And I assure you, such… escapes… are successful. Very successful. With prayer and self-reflection, escape is successful."
Ten let out a sigh of relief. Isolde had, apparently, also gotten the message, and stopped struggling. Teagan released her, but kept one hand on her shoulder.
"You are correct, Sister," said the arlessa, "I feel the peace of Andraste in me now. I am sorry, Miss Tabris."
"It's all right," grumbled Ten, "Come on, Arlessa, let's get a bandage on your face before Connor wakes up, I've got some herbs that will keep it from scarring."
"And then we must go to the chapel and pray that such impulses do not come over us again," Isolde agreed, "Come, the physician kept an office off of the kitchens, you should get the blood out of your hair before it matts."
"Wait, that's it?" Teagan asked, skeptically, "Just like that, you're… friends now?"
"The Maker has blessed me with His wisdom," Ten said, "The violence has gone from within my heart for approximately the next forty-eight hours, at which point I plan to be far, far away from here."
"I will accompany them to assure that no further altercations take place," Lelianna offered.
"I'd better go back and keep an eye on the mages," Cullen said, eager to be very far away from whatever had just taken place, which clearly had left him deeply uncomfortable.
They let the door to the small office off of the kitchen click shut before speaking.
"So we are even?" asked Isolde, "Nothing that you have… discovered this day will be spoken of again?"
"For now," said Ten. She dumped her potions satchel out on a table, "Though I don't know how I feel about the first two blows there. That felt vindictive."
"And smashing a teapot against my face was, what?" Isolde asked. She sat at the table and let Ten take a wet cloth and then a paste of clay and herbs to the long scratch along the side of her face which was beginning to go purple.
"Vindictive," said Ten, "Like sees like, after all. If my scruples were as few and ambition as limitless as yours I might be the lady of a great house as well."
"Do you believe there is any saving my husband?" she asked.
"Well the poison ran through me in an hour," said Ten, "Isn't it possible it will do the same for him after a few days or weeks?"
"I don't think so," Isolde said after a moment's thought, "It should have killed him by now. That he has been in a state of… equilibrium for so long I believe may be, ironically, thanks to Connor's little demonic outburst."
"Do you truly believe in the healing power of Andraste's ashes?" asked Lelianna.
"I should rather think you are the expert on that, Sister, not I," the arlessa said.
"It's just that they have come up several times in conversations surrounding this land," said Lelianna.
"It was a bit of an obsession, for my husband," said Isolde, "And I won't lie, I found it fascinating. The old man was feeling his age, and thought he might get his name in the history books if he sponsored an expedition. He had brought on a scholar, Frère Genotivi, he was given residence here for some months, and then returned to his studies in Denerim."
"He is still on payroll," said Lelianna.
"I did not know that," said Isolde.
"Ironic, if that is the very thing that saves him," said Lelianna.
"Sister, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" asked Ten.
"Wouldn't you like to be in the history books as something other than a spree killer who went on to try to end the blight but ended up failing because she couldn't keep her mouth shut and got herself and everyone around her killed?" Lelianna asked, "Which is undoubtedly what is going to happen considering the sheer volume of punishment you've subjected yourself to this week alone."
"I have been feeling my own mortality," said Ten, "All right. I'm in."
"Sten is going to lose his shit, isn't he," said Lelianna.
"I still don't understand what he's doing here," said Ten.
"Do you really just get to do whatever it is you want?" asked Isolde. There was a new light in her hazel eyes as she watched the two women plotting their next move.
"More or less," said Ten,"But the dirty secret is, so do you. More or less. You've just never tried before."
"You just spent about half an hour making it very clear that I'm to do as you say," the arlessa said.
"Well my second command," said Ten, "Is that you go back upstairs and be there for your boy when he comes to. Then, after that, when this all shakes out… just go do something you feel like. That is, unless you still feel like killing your husband, that one's out. But first, you're going to give me the key to your wine cellar. I think I've earned it."