By sunset, Ten and Lelianna were on their third bottle, had raided the larder for snacks, and were sitting back to back on the great throne in the Arl's audience chamber - entirely pretentious for the lord of such an unimportant land, Ten thought privately - each of them with their legs sprawled over one gilded arm, bare feet in the air. The third bottle was a fine Nevarran red and they had poured it out into gaudy silver goblets that were probably intended for great state dinners and not two common wastrels with no greater desire than to get drunk and forget how much everything hurt. Lelianna's hair had fallen around her ears and Ten was a bit too tipsy to care about the fact that there was a bruise the size of her fist risen on the back of her skull. We probably look insane, thought Ten, but then again, who could blame us?
"So tell me, Teneira, is this something you have dreamed about?" Lelianna asked.
"What, defiling a noble's castle, drinking their wine, eating their cheese?" asked Ten, "Well, never before have I been in a castle that it wouldn't be the job of a friend of mine to clean, so no, I've never desired to make a mess in one. But it is satisfying. What about you? You seem to have a healthy skepticism of authority."
"The only authority I recognize is that of the Maker," said Lelianna.
"And do you think Divine what's-her-face would approve of this?" asked Ten, "Seems to me the Chantry just strides arm in arm with the nobility to crush the rest of us underfoot."
"I didn't say anything about the Chantry," Lelianna corrected her, "I said the Maker."
"And the Maker has ordained that you are permitted to behave like this?"
"I am how He made me," said Lelianna chuckling, "Appreciative of good wine and good company - and too often deprived of both."
"That is the condition of the laboring class," said Ten.
"So for you, this is a protest of sorts!" Lelianna exclaimed, "How cunning."
"What, that I can put my feet on the furniture in the home of a family who certainly thinks women like me are good for nothing but laundry and occasionally having my ass grabbed?" Ten asked, "Absolutely."
"How would you see the world remade? Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."
"Of course I have," said Ten, "I'd probably start with razing every building like this to the ground and having the owners beheaded in the public square."
"You say things like that," said Lelianna, "But I do not think it is the truth. If you had wanted the lady of the house dead, you could have made that happen and walked away smelling like a rose several times. If you wanted the Arl dead, he is lying helpless this very moment and there are pillows aplenty. If you wanted the child dead… I don't think you would want the child dead."
"I don't have the energy for dreaming up a better system," said Ten, "Only the vitriol to imagine this one up in flames. So I am working with what I have."
"And you would feel a little bit of sympathy for them," said Lelianna.
"Likely," said Ten, "I've never killed anyone who wouldn't have killed me first."
"Well, they would have," said Lelianna, "Not them personally, but people like them."
"Yes I suppose they would have," said Ten, "You know, it's funny. Every time I meet a new noble, they don't seem surprised that I did what I did back in Denerim. It's always some version of 'Bann Vaughan had it coming.' But they all knew him, they knew what he was like, and he was never punished, never restrained. They were perfectly happy letting him rampage through the help like his personal harem, watching in some degree of disapproval, but none of them ever did anything about it. They don't care that I did it, they don't care that I got away with it, but none of them ever spoke for me while I rotted in the dungeon. Nobody ever said 'well, he had it coming' then, not when I was facing the gallows."
"Well now that you have your hand around this nation's throat, and none of them know it yet, perhaps you ought to start thinking about how it would be remade."
"I have no such thing," said Ten.
"In a land without a king, without an heir apparent, you are standing between the people and certain destruction," said Lelianna, "In what way does that not translate into you having quite a lot of say in what comes out of the ashes?"
"The same way half of these idiots don't know how to wash themselves properly, and yet are utterly ungrateful for the servant showing up with the soap," Ten sighed, "The havoc we would have to wreck on the aristocracy to bring a change like I'd want would… I don't know if I have the stomach for it."
She felt the good sister tense as footsteps echoed through the foyer outside.
"Do you forget that we have carte blanche from the lady of the house?" asked Ten.
"Those aren't lady's footsteps," said Lelianna.
"So it's one of the other two imbeciles," sighed Ten, "Who cares?"
Ten was suddenly pitched backwards as Lelianna got up from where they had been leaning on each other. She struck her head on the other arm of the throne, cursed, and felt her skirts fall around her waist. She heard her get up and go to the door, heard the creak as it opened, pulled her skirts back where they belonged and made a bet with herself as to which of them had shown up to scold them this time.
"Oh, it's you," Lelianna said relaxing, "Where have you been all day?"
"Someone left me on a boat."
"Great," Ten muttered to herself, having lost the bet on both accounts, but didn't bother getting up. She put her feet on the back of the throne, grabbed her goblet, and took a swig far larger and more hasty than the quality of wine deserved. If I'm going to get a lecture, I might as well be upside-down and drunk for it.
"Well, come on in, the both of you, we are having the saddest party this side of the mountains," said Lelianna, "The mages are still with the boy." She pulled the door the rest of the way open.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alistair cross the enormous room in a handful of strides and stand over her, arms crossed. "Do you want to tell me, Teneira, why it is I woke up alone on a ketch anchored thirty yards off shore with no way back until this one-" he jerked his thumb back to point at where Cullen had hesitantly entered the room, - "showed up in a dinghy on his way to determine if a blood mage was swimming across the lake to freedom?" he demanded. She could tell he was toning it down in front of the others. If the tone of his voice weren't lying, had they been alone, he would be hauling her to her feet and shaking her by the shoulders.
"Because if the jolt of the anchor and all the sailors yelling at each other to bring the yards down didn't wake you up, I wasn't about to try," Ten said, rolling her eyes, "And what do you mean… Jowan is gone?" She tried to act surprised at this last bit, but an army of grenache grapes had her by the head. Whatever, so what, what's he going to do about it anyway?
"The only way he possibly could have gotten out was to go out a window," the templar said, "There just wasn't time, and we didn't pass him on the staircase. So I figured he must have gone into the lake, but… I have absolutely no idea how to steer a rowboat."
"Out a window, eh?" Ten said, surreptitiously looking at Lelianna. The good sister shrugged innocently, "Well, that's two mages taking a flying leap in twenty-four hours, Cullen, whatever you're doing to them in that tower, it can't be very nice. And perhaps knowing how to steer a boat should be added to training."
"I'll be sure to tell Gregoir you said so," said Cullen dryly.
"Maybe don't mention it was her," Alistair suggested.
"Why… why do you have pawprints all over you?" asked Lelianna, looking Alistair over.
"There was a squirrel," said Alistair, "I happened to be between it and the dog and, well…"
"Definitely was a squirrel," said Ten, "And not just a suggestion I put in the dear beast's head."
"How on earth do you manage to turn 'squirrel' into one syllable?" Cullen asked.
"It's a single syllable word!" Ten protested, "Fucking provincials…"
"I do admit, it is terribly amusing that you managed to get into it with the arlessa. Again," Alistair acknowledged.
"I've honestly never seen anything so terrifying in my life, and I fight demons professionally," Cullen said, his cheeks going red, "The blond got the brunette on the ground and it was just chaos… skirts and hair going every which way, calling each other names that would make a bandit blush..."
"Ah, so you also have confusing feelings about watching two women grapple," Lelianna said, "There is something so primal about it. All in each others' faces, the heavy breathing, bodies pressed against…"
"You're making it weird," said Ten.
"Yeah. Ew. Stop," Alistair concurred.
"Where'd the wine come from?" asked Cullen, hastily changing the subject and looking over at the laundry basket that the nun and the criminal had commandeered to carry their well-earned rewards.
"I won it in that fight!" said Ten, "Go on, have some. I've probably already drank my father's yearly salary."
"Why is it that whenever you run off without me, you wind up in an absolutely ridiculous fight and drunk?" asked Alistair.
"Whenever I run off with you, I wind up in a ridiculous fight and not drunk," Ten pointed out, "On balance, I prefer this. After all, the worst thing that happened to me today was being humiliated by the lady of the house and the fact that this wine and that cheese don't technically go together."
"And how would you, of all people, know that?" asked Lelianna.
"I used to play cards with the assistant to the court sommelier," said Ten, "Before he got lynched."
"I don't even know what that means," Cullen admitted.
"Friend of mine. Ennaias Lin. He worked at the palace, knew everything there was to know about wine. Then he was accused of getting a lady's maid pregnant and six masked men came for him one night last winter and hung him from a tree," said Ten. Her tone was nonchalant, the best way she had found to tell terrible stories to humans who might not otherwise be sympathetic, but the sudden memory twisted her stomach into knots.
"Accused, are you sure he didn't do it?" asked Alistair, "Surely if six men got it into their heads…"
"His husband was the one to find the body," said Ten, "So yes, I'm pretty sure he didn't do it. And additionally, go fuck yourself." She shuddered, the memory of the hysterical sobs cutting through the silence of a winter's morning. The silhouette of Pol's broad shoulders, carrying Ennaias like a baby back through the gates.
"Sorry," Alistair muttered, averting his eyes.
"The sooner you get it through your head what a fucked up world it is we're trying to save, the better," Ten said, gesticulating with her empty cup, which Lelianna silently refilled, "I know you think that the people in charge have our best interests at heart, justice always gains the day, and that litter of kittens really did go live on a nice farm on the Bannorn, but I assure you they don't, it doesn't, and they got drowned."
"Ah, so you come by the whole bloody revolution thing honestly," Lelianna said, her eyes lighting up, "I am sorry that happened to your friend. There is much injustice in the world."
"Take one nap and Ten's agitating for a race riot," Alistair grumbled. He turned to Cullen, "She does this sometimes. Quite a lot actually."
"Why, Alistair, are you afraid you might come out on the wrong end of it?" asked Ten.
"No! No, I'm not saying you're even wrong, but just… don't we have enough to worry about?"
"Look around you," said Ten, gesturing again and managing to spill a small arc of wine over the flagstones, "Everything is burning down. The king is dead, the land is about a year from being utterly overrun by darkspawn, the lords are at each other's throats, the mages are summoning whatever nasty little beasties to best the templars and the Chantry and the Crown are probably still looking for excuses to exterminate the lot of them. It's only a matter of time before the peasants get restless as well. We all know who bears the heaviest burden of war."
"It's not political for us," Alistair protested, "We're Grey Wardens. We're here for the darkspawn bit. That's it."
"Everything is political," Ten countered, "If it weren't for politics, the king and the rest of the Wardens would still be alive. One or the other of them might have even coaxed the Archdemon out at Ostagar and none of this would be happening. And where there's politics and war, the inequalities among the peoples of this land come into pretty stark relief."
"But that's not for us," Alistair said, "The aspiring revolutionary routine may have made sense for you two months ago, but that's not your job anymore."
"I suppose it's not," said Ten, "For now. But this conflict will end. And I'm not so sure you and I are going to be on the same side for the next one."
"You know, you'd be a much more convincing voice for the people if you weren't slurring every third word," Alistair said.
"Oh, I don't know, there's something about getting lectured on affairs of state by a drunk elf sitting upside down on a throne," Lelianna said, "I feel like I'm watching some bizarre theater performance."
"I'm only upside down because you left me here to let in Ser Killjoy and his little brother," Ten groused, "It was much more fun plotting the downfall of the ruling classes on our own."
"Oh, I'm the killjoy? You were just saying that the kittens don't actually get to live on a nice farm in the Bannorn," Alistair countered, "I don't know if I'll ever be the same."
"Oh don't worry, I have my own ideas about how the world should be remade," said Lelianna, sitting back down on the other arm of the throne, "From an ecclesiastical standpoint, of course."
"Oh, so it's not time for a peasant's rebellion but it is time for an inquisition," said Ten.
"Times will change," said Lelianna, "Come on there, Brother Templar, you know all the greasy bits of the Chantry, surely you see what I'm getting at."
"I honestly hadn't thought about it," said Cullen, taking a hesitant sip of wine, deciding he liked it, and taking another.
"See, that's the problem!" Lelianna exclaimed, a new light in her eyes, "You never thought. You should try it, I'm sure you're better at it than you know."
"Oh, now who's the radical…" Ten chuckled.
"You know, they always told me that girls only thought about dresses and jewels," said Alistair, "Nobody warned me you were all secretly plotting to take over the world."
"I have two older sisters," said Cullen, "Hate to break it to you, mate, but these two are absolutely par for the course."
The four of them started as the great door to the southwest tower creaked open.
"Well, at least the young folk are having a grand old time," said Teagan from the doorway. He looked genuinely amused by this, as only a man who never had to clean up his own messes - or those of his guests - could. He walked into the room, followed by Wynne.
"Certainly are," said Ten, "Your sister-in-law felt bad about the whole knocking me to the ground thing and let us have the run of the wine cellar."
"Well that and being grateful for saving her child from demonic possession which certainly would have otherwise led to his ritualistic killing," said Lelianna, "Which I assume, since you are here, we will not need to do?"
"Connor is out of the woods. He's with his mother, for now," said Wynne, "First Enchanter Irving has conceded that the Circle is in no shape for any new faces, especially a young adolescent, so he will remain here until the war is over."
Ten looked around. She couldn't put her finger on any one thing that had changed, but it was as though the energy of the place had shifted from foreboding to friendly. Well, as friendly as a symbol of everything she truly hated could be. Though she had to admit, despite her declaration to the contrary while talking politics with Lelianna, she'd been almost impressed with how reasonable most of the nobility she'd encountered in the past several weeks had been. Then again, she was, for the first time, in a position where they were forced to respect her.
"So Connor's back among the living," said Ten.
"Yes," said Teagan, "He doesn't seem to remember most of it. I'm not sure what we're going to do when he asks where everyone went…"
"You're going to have to tell him," said Cullen.
"That he's responsible for the deaths of almost everyone he's ever met?" Teagan asked, the color draining from his face.
"He has to understand why he needs to go to the Circle," Cullen said, "Otherwise one of these days he'll be taking a flying leap into the lake thinking he can come home, and I don't want to pull another child's body out of the water."
Teagan looked at Wynne, his face stricken.
"The boy is right," said Wynne, "Connor has to understand the enormity of what he did. Otherwise he'll never accept what must happen. Look, son, if I come through at the end of this, I will stop by, and I will take him there myself."
Teagan nodded slowly, putting away the knowledge for later, "So where will you go now?" he asked, turning his attention to the two women on the throne.
"Are you here to tell us to get the hell out?" Ten asked.
"What? No!" said Teagan, "You've been a friend to this family. A very strange friend who can't seem to stop fighting with the lady of the house, but a friend all the same."
"If you must know," said Ten, "Lady Isolde and I have made amends. Not like she'll be a bridesmaid at my next wedding or anything, but I assure you there will be no more scuffles between the two of us. And she did tell me where I could find more information on a monk who may know more of the location of the relic she believes will save her husband."
"Is that so," said Teagan, "And she believes it will save him?"
"Given what he's been through, it may be the only thing," said Ten. And if he begins to recover on his own? Well I suppose we can chalk it up to the blood mage. "So it's off home, I suppose. Just what I really wanted, another three weeks of just… walking."
"Sten is going to lose his shit," said Alistair.
"Language!" Wynne scolded.
"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, Sister," said Ten, "We picked up a friend at the Circle. This is Wynne. She will eventually get used to all the swearing."
"Would one of you like to tell me why, when I came out of my trance, young Jowan was gone?" Wynne asked, crossing her arms.
"Me? I wasn't even here," Alistair protested, "Ten, what did you do?"
"Me? How is babysitting the blood mage my job? Cullen, what did you do?"
"I was down here, physically preventing you from catching another murder charge!" Cullen protested, "It's not my fault they're all lunatics who just really want to drown!"
"So I'm not sure how much you heard," said Alistair, "We're bound for Denerim and it's a long road. Or, so I've heard. Are you up for it?"
"I'm not made of glass," said Wynne, "I'm a good deal stronger than I look. But are you sure that is the best idea? For Teneira, in particular?"
"And here I was hoping that story hadn't made it to the Circle," said Ten, "Ah well. I don't know that we have a choice. There's no stability in the land without Arl Eamon making it out of this one, and we don't have a chance against the horde without a consensus among the aristocracy. As much as it personally galls me to say so."
"Well," said Wynne, "I haven't been on the open road in a good ten years, it'll do me some good I think."
"I think going twenty-four hours without something with very large teeth trying to kill us would do us all some good," said Ten, "And more than a few hours' sleep at a time would be lovely."