Oliver

As he rounded the corner back towards his house he was a little surprised to see the lights were on and people were out wandering the lawn. Light music drifted on from the open room.

Wonder what this is about.

For a moment he did wonder about the impropriety of the situation. Though he did have at least some coverage with his work at the Magisterium.

As he walked up the cobblestones the chatter became more distinct. A dozen different voices commented on the affairs of the Imperium, rumors, innuendo, and the mindless tittering of courtiers.

A meeting of the Imperium's notables, I shouldn't be surprised.

He got a good look at the front of his home, he felt an eyebrow arch almost unbidden.

Draped along the banisters until the windows were even blocked off was a large sigil for the Templar Order. He looked at it, lips pursed, eyes hooded as he considered the implications.

"Oliver! You're home."

He glanced over to see his mother approaching him, a relieved smile on her face.

"I see you had another late night."

He nodded. "Couldn't be helped," and for once it really was Magisterium business, "What's all this?"

"Your sister's idea," Mara announced proudly, "a gala for the Templars. A fund raiser to help them take care of displaced veterans who have fallen in the line of duty."

"Tessia's idea?" Oliver mused, eyes flitting about looking for her.

"You sound displeased?"

"I-"

"Oliver whatever you feel about the Templars and the rest of the government the Order is still well respected by the average Tevinter citizen. It wouldn't do for the newest magister to be seen publicly disparaging them."

That's not it. "I'm just a bit surprised that she put all this together so quickly."

"You mean without telling you?"

He nodded, taking the out.

She chuckled, "Oliver you have been pretty busy with the Magisterium of late. And if your sister wants to take on a little civic duty then she should be allowed to do so."

He nodded, his eyes finally finding her in the midst of the crowd, talking to someone dressed in the regalia of the Knight Commander.

"Speaking of, the magister should go out and mingle."

Without another word she sauntered off, heading back towards the big house.

And he plunged into the crowd.

Despite her mother's suggestion he still felt too out of place to actually make much of an effort on working the crowd. He just traded nods and pleasantries on the way as he moved through the garden. One or two words here, a smile there was all he satisfied him with.

At one point he felt right at home in a party like this. Being thrown out there for the glory of his family, being presented to magisters, trying to woo them to whatever cause his family was supporting all for the Glory of Tevinter. Yet his main appreciation was the food, the women, flirting as he went through, the alcohol, loosing himself, taking every advantage of his family's status and decadence even as his father and mother tried to discourage the practice.

And now he felt like a stranger. This was the first 'party' his family had thrown since he had been back in town so he had little time to practice and feel comfortable. While he tried to put on a good face, act like how he once did, he now was faced with the fact that the war had changed him. Hardened him. In a way it was very hard to believe that the man he was had survived the front lines for almost five full years.

Finally he noticed his sister cozying up to a man in full Templar regalia. As he approached the Knight-Commander bowed his head and backed away.

"Ollie?"

"Hey sis," he wrapped his arms around her shoulder as they pulled each other in a hug.

"Almost surprised to see you home," she said upon disentangling herself, "you don't seem to be home that often. Just here for a couple of minutes, to sleep, and eat, then go off to do something else."

He paused for a second, making sure he had a reasonable way out. "I'm proud of you sister. This was a...good idea."

"Oh? Is that hesitancy I hear in your voice?" She teased.

"Well, you've heard the rumors as well as I have. About the Templars being infiltrated by the Venatori." He tried to keep his tone light and brought up his best smile.

"And so you believe all Templars are corrupt?" She smirked back at him. "Now Ollie, I'm shocked."

"No," she shook his head, "I don't. But without knowing who is corrupt or not...it just took me a minute to get used to it."

"Well, I understand...but I also shouldn't keep you for long. I think someone else wants to talk to you."

He cocked his head to the side and she nodded behind him.

He followed the gaze to see Magister Borontius staring there after him.

"Oliver," the Magister said coming up to him then nodded to his sister, "Tessia."

"Borontius." His sister replied, with a smile.

"Can I speak to your brother alone please?" He asked.

"Certainly," his sister nodded before leaving, heading back towards the party.

"Walk with me Oliver."

After a minute the two of them walked out across the grounds of his home, Borontius flagged down a waiter and got them both a drink from him as they passed.

He took it and noted the silver color of the chalice.

"Seems you are always on the move Oliver, never staying anywhere for long. Though your time in the Magisterium has passed and you have argued your causes with passion and intelligence, no one can't seem to notice that you don't seem to stay for any of our, uh, social functions."

"What of it?" he gulped down a bit of liquid roughly.

"People are beginning to talk Oliver," Borontius supplied glancing over at him, and then out across the grounds as if he were trying to avoid a conspiracy.

"Talk?" Oliver tried to keep his voice neutral.

Borontius chuckled, "You in the prime of your life, a veteran home from the war. A man of renown. Surely you have gone off to find a proper suitor for your house.

He couldn't help but close his eyes, a small smile splitting his features.

Borontius chuckled as if his reaction was confirmation, "but you have to attend to your duties. And the duties of the rest of the party. Building your own little empire should help you in your other pursuits. You can't trade on the Mercar name forever."

"I will keep that in mind, Magister." He smiled.

"Oh Oliver, please lets not stand on such abrupt ceremony!"

He tried to maintain his smile as his fellow magister slapped him on the back with force.

Oliver wondered if he could get out of the conversation, there was something a little bit off balance about how Borontius was acting.

But then he sobered, letting out a long suffering sigh.

"Can you believe that no one has caught the Silver Rook yet?"

"I thought you were the one who said that you were hoping he'd do our job for us?"

Borontius grinned into his wine glass. "That was for politics, at least in part. While I think he might be a necessary evil at times, mainly my constituents love a good hero...especially when the Templars or the City Guard aren't being seen to have been doing their job. Folk heroes cell Oliver. If I can be seen even given some support for him, then that might keep the people in my district I represent happy."

Oliver grunted. "So its all politics?"

"Just one more aspect of the game you have to learn how to play."

He once more went into silence, taking another drink.

"Besides," Borontious looked over at him, "you can't say your own response to the crisis has been politically motivated. Just trying to play the neutral party?"

"Well," he coughed as Borontious continued to bore into his eyes, "I do believe what I have said. If we can't rely on our own people to solve this crisis then the Silver Rook is a pretty poor solution. Maybe he is necessary. Maybe he isn't, yet here we are."

"Yes, here we are." He smiled as he walked away.

Leaving the man who was the Silver Rook uncomfortable in his wake.