The bell tolled straight above them, ringing in their ears while the group raced back via the palace chantry, through the guest wing, then through the vestibule, and finally, the ballroom. Gaspard, Florianne and Briala were already in conversation at the far end of the ballroom floor, waiting for the empress to arrive. When the herald announced the arrival of the Inquisitor, Florianne looked up sharply.
The remaining members of the Inquisition, bloodstains and all, gathered around the Inquisitor as she entered, with Cullen at the forefront of the remaining party coming to greet them. "Thank the Maker you're back, the empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?"
"Have you chosen which side we're on?" Leliana asked quietly.
Ellethir was distracted, her eyes fixed on Florianne. "I was hoping they could all work together, but as things stand…Briala."
"Wait," Fae interjected, standing in Ellethir's line of vision. "I know I was the one to convince Briala to form an alliance, but with Florianne exposed and executed, Celene only has one heir. If we side with Briala and lose Gaspard, then both heirs are lost, and Orlais is still vulnerable. And we know for sure now that Briala is not necessarily the champion of the elves she thinks she is."
Vivienne neatly manoeuvred over to Ellethir's side. "Orlais is not as feeble a cub as the Seer implies, Inquisitor, but her reasoning is sound."
"Alright, alright!" Ellethir quipped, her fingers attempting to pick anxiously at the pins in her hair. "Gaspard, then. Wait here, I'm going to have a word with the grand duchess."
"What? There's no time! The empress will begin her speech at any moment," Cullen protested.
Celene approached the balcony from where she had greeted her guests, the court herald by her side. Every guest was in the ballroom now, waiting for the herald to announce the beginning of the peace talks. Under normal circumstances, a Grand Ball would have concluded at midnight with the empress' final address, but this was a special occasion.
Ellethir smoothed down her skirt with sweating hands, and crossed the ballroom floor, the crowd parting before the Inquisition. Standing before Gaspard, Briala and Florianne, she curtsied. "We owe the court one more show, Your Grace."
Florianne smiled uncertainly. "Inquisitor?"
Ellethir's expression changed, her eyes blazing with the same bravado she showed in battle. "The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, Your Grace. Remember to smile. This is your party. You wouldn't want your peers to see you as an ungracious host."
Florianne smiled graciously. "Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?"
Ellethir ascended the steps to meet her. "All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike,' you said, if I recall correctly." She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing around Florianne like a noble inspecting a sculpture.
"When your Venatori archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance," Ellethir shrugged. "It's so easy to lose your good graces. You even framed your own brother for the murder of a council emissary."
"What?" Gaspard hissed. Vivienne's heels clacked across the floor as she crossed it, and wordlessly handed him the knife with the Chalons crest. He glared at it, then at Florianne. "Explain, Florianne!"
Florianne laughed weakly. "This is... very entertaining, but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories? My own brother?"
"It was an ambitious plan. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds, the Inquisition," Ellethir listed them off with her fingers. "All your enemies under one roof."
"This is a most serious accusation," Florianne scowled, switching tack. "To falsely accuse a member of the Blood is treason!"
The court herald stomped his heel, and all eyes turned to the empress.
"Whether the accusation is false or not will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin," Celene declared, her tone entirely neutral.
Gaspard motioned to the chevaliers behind him, and they marched towards Florianne, who began to back away. "Gaspard! You cannot believe this! You know I would never—" She bumped into someone behind her, and turned to see the Inquisition's honour guard blocking her exit.
"Waiting for the Venatori to come and save you? You know no one likes a sore loser, Your Grace," Ellethir nodded for the honour guard to press forward, forcing Florianne to back up until she collided with the chevaliers behind her.
They seized Florianne by the arms, and she struggled to fight them off. "Get your hands off me! Brother! Cousin! They are lying, all of them!"
Gaspard said nothing, staring coldly.
"You lost this fight before you even arrived, Your Grace," the Inquisitor finally snapped, all her feigned brevity exhausted. "You're just the last to find out."
Celene motioned with her hand, and the chevaliers half-dragged Florianne across the ballroom floor, the court shocked into silence, perhaps for the first time in living memory. Grand Duchess Florianne's shrieks of outrage and protest were only silenced by the closing of the ballroom doors.
The herald cleared his throat. "The time for peace has come!" he announced, as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. "Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Celene Valmont the First of Orlais, summons Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, Lady Ambassador Briala, and Lady Inquisitor Lavellan!"
Ellethir turned back and motioned for Fae to follow.
"No," Leliana put an arm out to hold Fae back. "The empress did not summon you."
Fae frowned. "She didn't, but the Inquisitor did. Celene will have her champion by her side, and I doubt Briala will have no one waiting in the wings when the negotiations sour. I can't protect Ellethir from all the way over here, and that's what I'm here for, aren't I?"
Leliana's expression was unreadable, as usual, but she let her pass. The Seer wasted no time catching up to the Inquisitor. The herald looked unimpressed, but he said nothing as he led them both to the empress' private balcony at the back of the ballroom.
The peace talks had already begun, although it was a poor descriptor for the bickering that could probably be heard all the way down to the gardens below.
"Your sister planned to commit regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard," Briala sneered.
Gaspard laughed in disbelief. "You're the spymaster, knife-ear. If anyone knew of the atrocity planned, it would be you."
"You don't deny your involvement?"
"I do deny it! You know, under any other circumstances, I would be proud of my baby sister's initiative, but we are at war and our very empire is at stake! Which is exactly what you want, isn't it, elf? That is why you knew and said nothing!"
Briala smirked. "I don't know which is better, that you think I'm all-seeing like our Fade-touched friend here—" Fae exchanged a look with Ellethir but wisely did not otherwise respond.
"-Or that you're failing so wonderfully at playing the honour-bound chevalier. Tell us, Gaspard, what does the chevalier code say about waging war against your own flesh and blood?"
Celene tapped her lion-headed sceptre angrily on the floor. "Enough! We will not tear our own nation apart while another plots against it! For the safety of Orlais, I will. Have. Answers."
Ellethir opened her mouth to speak, but Briala was that much faster. "Gaspard has been threatening the members of the Council of Heralds who refuse to crown him emperor."
Gaspard scoffed. "Politics, rabbit, is people issuing empty threats to one another. You'll need more than saying "Gaspard is a bully" and pointing your finger to accuse me of treason."
"You committed treason the day you forced me to kill my own subjects, Gaspard," Celene snapped.
Gaspard spat on the ground. "If a silly little play is enough to convince you to burn anyone whose ears match those of your elven slut, perhaps you do not have what it takes to rule your own subjects, Celene. The Orlesian army did not light their torches on my command."
"They did, the same day your army of traitors rose up against the Orlesian army," Celene. "Or shall we address the treason you attempted to commit today?"
"What treason?"
"I speak of your second failed coup, Gaspard. I heard the Inquisition intervened on my behalf and prevented it, but this is my palace. I already knew."
"We are truly sorry, Your Majesty, for interrup—" Ellethir's apology was cut off by Celene raising her hand, her focus entirely on Gaspard. "Did you think I would fall for the same trap twice? I know what Briala is capable of—"
"She is capable of treason!" Gaspard bellowed. "Ensuring our war continues by way of sabotage!"
"A war you started, Gaspard! You have betrayed Orlais time and again, you have betrayed me, your empress, time and again, and by Holy Andraste I will never will forgive you for it," Celene snarled. "You will never set foot in my court again while I breathe!"
Shit. Fae's eyes met Ellethir's at the same time, then looked away quickly, hoping their shared glance went unnoticed.
"There's nothing holy about this, Celene, and you damn well know it," Gaspard sighed. "But by all means, we are in the heart of the Chantry, so let's ask Andraste's Chosen, my honoured guest," Gaspard made a sweeping bow towards Ellethir. "What say you, Inquisitor?"
Ellethir said nothing, at first. She simply pulled a small scrolled-up note from her sleeve and handed it to Celene.
"What is that?" Briala asked.
"A letter," Ellethir answered, sparing a fleeting, guilty look towards Gaspard. "A message with Gaspard's seal, ordering his generals into position and giving them the signal for tonight's coup, as Her Majesty said. This confirms it without a doubt."
"Oh, for—" Gaspard threw up his hands. "Not a coup, but caution. A defensive choice I made given the hostile—" he shot Ellethir a positively withering look, "—environment I was walking into. Chevaliers are sworn to protect our people, even from each other. They have been here to defend the court."
"Until tonight, it was your threats that the people in that room needed protection from most of all, Gaspard, by your own admission. You and your treacherous so-called chevaliers," Celene scoffed, handing the note to her silent champion, himself a chevalier, beside her.
"And what of the protection you owed the slums, Celene? All men are the work of our Maker's Hands, from the lowest slaves to the highest kings," Gaspard quoted. "Until they threaten your power, naturally."
"Oh, save it, Gaspard," Briala scowled. "Everyone knows you are no friend to the elves."
Gaspard snorted derisively. "And you are? The rabbit who slept with the empress while all the other little rabbits burned?"
"My people are with me."
"Are they?"
"They are," Briala repeated firmly. "How many chevaliers are with you? Not enough, clearly, if you needed Fereldan mercenaries to bolster your dwindling numbers."
"We spoke to their captain," Ellethir added. "He is willing to testify."
"…What?" Celene said lowly. "Mercenaries, from Ferelden? You exposed our empire's business to a foreign power?"
"Oh, don't be naïve, Celene," Gaspard said dismissively. "There is a difference between a chivalry of Fereldan knights and a band of lowborn thugs. The only difference between a mercenary and a common soldier is a uniform."
"Correct, but there is a difference between a common soldier and a chevalier, as you are so fond of reminding us," Celene glowered, adjusting her posture, chin lifted slightly. "There can be no doubt of your treason, Gaspard. Arrest him." Celene's champion stepped forward, but he stopped when he found the tip of Gaspard's sword pointed inches away from his throat.
"You would have me executed on the word of a Fereldan mercenary and a jumped-up elf savage?" Gaspard hissed.
"No," Ellethir said, her voice warped slightly behind the defensive arcane shield Fae had conjured the moment Gaspard's hand reached for the hilt of his sword. "But she would on the word of her own man. One of your loyal chevaliers told Her Majesty all about your plans for tonight. She found out about them through him, not through us."
In the few short moments since Gaspard had drawn his sword, Celene had made a subtle hand gesture towards the balcony doors, which had been opened, and now half a dozen gleaming chevaliers' swords were pointed toward Gaspard.
Gaspard registered the movements in his peripheral vision, but his focus was now on Ellethir.
"I should never have trusted the word of a simple-minded Dalish. You found your new ally the moment you saw that one's ears."
Ellethir raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps I did. Perhaps you're right, Your Grace. You have your people to protect, and we have ours. The Inquisition is for all, including elves."
"And was there ever a place for me, Inquisitor?" Gaspard made a good show of looking hurt. Ellethir wasn't having any of it.
"If you wanted to join our people, you might have started by seeing us as such. You lit the torches in Halamshiral and killed innocents just as surely as the empress—"
"You will not insult Her Majesty," Celene's silent champion finally interjected, his voice deep and rumbling.
"We just saved Her Majesty's life," the Inquisitor quipped right back. "The empress can survive hearing the truth."
"I admit, I am surprised you count we flat-ears among your people, Inquisitor," Briala nodded to her.
"Not every Dalish elf is like another, so I'm told."
"Quite right," Celene tapped with her sceptre again. "I am not the feeble-minded despot you have spent so long trying to convince people I am, Gaspard. In light of overwhelming evidence, we have no choice but to declare you an enemy of the empire. You are hereby sentenced to death. Your execution will take place at dawn in three days. Drop your sword, immediately."
Gaspard's eyes glinted furiously, but let his sword clatter to the stone floor. Celene's champion saluted, and signalled for the other chevaliers to approach. One took each of his arms, while two stood in front of him, and two stood behind him.
"For both our sakes, I hope you do lead our empire out of the darkness, cousin," Gaspard said with unnerving calmness as he was seized. "You, or whoever takes your place." He smiled, masked eyes unblinking. "Lady Mantillon would be proud."
Celene smiled back, equally impassive, until Gaspard had been led away, and the balcony doors closed once more. The Empress' smile dropped. "And now, what do I do with you, Bria?" she said softly, pinching the bridge of her mask's nose.
"Briala's help was invaluable in uncovering these plots against you tonight, Your Majesty," Ellethir assured her.
Celene chuckled. "I'm sure it was. All the plots save for her own, naturally."
"She did it for you," Fae said, offering the carved wooden locket to Celene's champion, who passed it to Celene. "I saw it myself."
Ellethir innocuously nudged her shoulder. "In my visions," Fae added.
"You kept it," Briala said softly, taking one or two small steps toward Celene. "All this time. It could have hurt you. Everything you have built. But you chose to keep this close. To keep me close."
"I…Bria," Celene's voice caught, cradling the amulet in her hands.
Briala stepped closer, lifting her mask up to reveal shining, infinitely sad eyes. Fae could see the very real pain in Briala's eyes, so real she almost believed that Briala had truly forgiven Celene.
"I do not dare believe that, after everything I have done, you would still..."
Briala's hands cupped Celene's face, and Celene's resolve gave way, leaning into the kiss. It had worked.
Celene's champion politely cleared his throat, his discomfort clear in his body language if not his mask. Celene broke away first, both hands still holding Briala's. "I…Thank you, Inquisitor, for all your efforts tonight," she said, sliding smoothly back behind the mask of the empress of Orlais. "I owe you my life, and…my love. And Orlais owes you its future. Come. We must give the good news to our friends. Orlais has a new ally."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Lead the way," Ellethir curtsied, watching Celene, Briala and the champion re-enter the ballroom first.
"I had to make a decision quickly," Ellethir said quickly under her breath to Fae. "Better to have one ally than none, and even if the Chalons heirs did survive, Orlais is already falling apart. We just need enough time to—"
"Ellethir, Ellethir," Fae whispered, patting her arm. "It's ok, you did good. Celene is alive, Corypheus has no demon army and no puppet queen, and the civil war is technically over. It could have gone so, so much worse. Take the win, go wow the crowd with your charm."
"Inquisitor! Come, come! Celebrate with us!"
Ellethir approached the balcony over the ballroom floor, standing side by side with Briala, who whispered something in her ear.
Celene tapped her sceptre on the floor, and the crowd quieted in record time. No one wanted to miss this.
"Lords and ladies of the court, this is a night for celebration indeed!" Celene announced, her arms open, the very picture of the benevolent monarch. "The peace talks are successfully concluded! Those who sought to poison our empire with treason have been brought to justice. No more shall mothers mourn their sons, no more shall brothers fight against brothers. Together, we herald a new age of enlightenment in Orlais! With Andraste's blessing, we shall build a world in which all men and women live in harmony, a world that will move even the Maker himself to bless our fortunes." Celene took Briala's hand in her own, and raised it. "Let the first cornerstone of change be laid in the spirit of unity, and loyalty. We introduce to you Marquise Briala of the Dales, Lady of the Elves of Orlais."
Fae watched the crowd with interest as the murmuring inevitably began, ranging from bemusement, to indignance, to outright rage. Several nobles even made to leave, but found their way blocked by armed chevaliers.
"This is not only a victory for Halamshiral," Briala called out over the din. "It is not only for Orlais, and not only for elves. This is a triumph for all. Over a thousand years ago, in the Valarian Fields, elves and humans together defeated the Imperium, led by the Blessed Andraste."
At the mention of Andraste, the chattering died down, with more eyes drawn to Andraste's Herald standing beside the newly appointed Marquise. "We know so much more now, and we are so much more now, more than our ancestors ever dreamed we could be," Briala continued. "Together, we will save our world from our common enemy, as we have done with each Blight which has threatened us. This time, our enemy is one who originated the Blight itself. This darkspawn has taken the Divine from us, and torn the sky apart, but Andraste has sent us what we needed most," Briala squeezed Celene's hand as she smiled. "She could have chosen a woman in her own image for her champion, but she already had one, in our beloved empress. So, she chose to uplift an elf, as a beacon of hope, of strength, of unity, now when we needed it more than ever before." She whispered something out of earshot to Ellethir, who nodded, her expression grim.
"Our enemy knows no mercy, no reason beyond his own exultation," Ellethir's voice quickly adopted the steel edge it found earlier in confronting Florianne. "We fight for our very existence. Orlais must be strong; for all its fortune, it cannot afford to fall. This war has only just begun, and we will win it."
Celene began the applause, gloved hands dulling the sound. Her captive audience took the cue as if they had rehearsed it, joining in the applause with additional shouts of "Hear, hear!" and "Long live the empress!"
"Tomorrow, our fight begins in earnest," Celene announced when the applause and cheers had run their course. "Tonight, we celebrate our newfound fellowship. We thank you all for the honour of your attendance tonight. May those who return to their homes find their way safely in the light of the Maker, and let the dreams of those who rest here tonight be joyous. Let the festivities commence!"