It took a little over a week and a half, during which time the leaves had almost entirely gone and the air turned from 'a bit nippy' to 'must I truly leave the house today?', before Avrenis Lin returned one afternoon, redcheeked and shivering, from market with a scrap of paper, which she thrust into Ten's hand. A glance at it showed an address in a hamlet half a mile out of town to the south. Fuck. It just had to be to the south…
"This was a pain in my ass to get, by the way," Avrenis said.
"How much of a pain in your ass?"
"Another sovereign's worth."
"Here's two. Get the kids something nice for midwinter," Ten said.
She looked at the address again. It was a straight shot from the gates of Eamon's estate to the western gate of the city. It would be a longer way around than cutting through the Docks and Antivan Quarter to the south gate, but the ease of movement alone would make it worth it. Once she was out there, though, anything could happen. According to the note Avrenis had slipped her, the man in question had the evening shift, meaning he would be home at least until three or four in the afternoon. That meant traveling in daylight, which meant discretion.
"Zev!" she called.
"You called?" Zevran said, seemingly materializing out of thin air, though she could see where he had been sitting on the floor in the corner, his back to the room, his nose in something that looked suspiciously like one of Morrigan's salacious novels.
"I need someone to watch my back while I make a social call," she said.
"What sort of social call, manita?"
"I need to threaten a member of the queen's personal guard," she said.
"This is unfair. You take Lelianna to a whorehouse, you take Alistair to get drunk with your friends, you take your cousins to go murder a bunch of slave traders. All of the fun parts. And me? Mundane. I am wasted here."
"Then go, by all means," Ten said, rolling her eyes.
"Then I'll never have a chance to see the entirety of that scar."
"You never had one."
"Never is a long time."
"Come on, you can be creepy while we walk."
Cloaked and cowled against the winds which whistled through the narrow streets and back alleys, Ten felt oddly secure, and not only because Pigeon, looking bulkier than usual due to her shaggy winter coat, continually scouted the road ahead of them, reporting back every five minutes or so to assure them that all was well. It was also hard to tell human from elf under all the layers, after all. Zevran, though, did not appreciate the weather.
"This is bullshit," he grumbled, "It's unnatural."
"It's called winter, Zev. It happens every year."
"Winter should be about twenty degrees warmer. The Maker has truly cursed this land. You all must have committed dreadful sins for such a thing to occur."
"Does it not snow in Antiva?"
"Rarely."
"Well you're certainly in for it in about a month."
He pulled his cloak around himself and started muttering a string of curses in Antivan that would make the most seasoned streetwalker blush. They reached the gate sometime between him enumerating all the saints he intended to relieve himself on and insulting all the ancestors through the fifth degree great grand parents of whoever ran the place. He ran out by the time they had made it to the southwest guard tower and took the road south to the village of Valmirren.
"You missed shitting in the Maker's mother's cunt," said Ten after about thirty seconds of silence. The landscape south of the city was less dense than the west end, where the road had become another bazaar, where all the merchants who could not afford the stall fees - or the protection money that Boss Guilder and his goons extracted - plied their trade. To the south, the roads were far better maintained, paved with cobblestones all the way to the first village on the outskirts, and village security patrolled, keeping anyone from sitting there for too long. It put Ten on edge, knowing that a place where beggars could not sit and peddlers could not set up just to please the aesthetic sense of the villagers was likely a place where elves were not welcome.
"You… understood all that?" Zev asked, looking at her in amusement.
"About seventy percent," Ten said, glancing warily up at the trees that lined the broad road. Lots of sturdy branches.
"I am both impressed and a little embarrassed," said Zev, who clearly did not have the same sixth sense had for danger.
"Don't be," she said, "I apprenticed with an Antivan alchemist whose command of the local language was… iffy. You should have heard the things that came out of her mouth when I accidentally made something explode." She shook her head and cringed at the memory of Alticia going after her with a sandal while cursing her, her family both dead and living, and her pets.
"I have not given you enough credit, manita. You must understand the reputation Fereldans have abroad. Boorish, uncultured, sleep with their dogs…"
"Well those are stereotypes about Fereldan humans," Ten corrected.
"You did sleep with your dog, though," Zev pointed out, watching the hound turn to scout ahead once again.
"What Pigeon and I work out about our sleeping arrangements is between me, her, and the Maker. Also you're about to experience a Fereldan winter in earnest, so perhaps you'll understand that bit better in a month or so. Most of us can't afford the firewood or charcoal to keep the fires going all night. And so… you sleep in a heap with as many warm creatures as you can lure in there."
"I suppose it explains the rat problem. But, I have offered a much more sanitary solution to that problem!" Zevran said, "Yet you spurn me at every turn."
"Sanitary!" Ten exclaimed, "Please, I know where you've been. You don't seem picky as between boys, girls and everything else, you could theoretically bed the entire population of the city if it's warm bodies what you were after."
"It is not. To be entirely honest it is mostly because it gets you to scold me and I rather enjoy that," he said, "It reminds me of my mother."
"You really do just say the foulest thing that comes into your head, don't you," Ten sighed, "I'm sorry, cousin, trying to resolve all the issues of a broken childhood in bed just isn't something I can sign on for."
"Are you not much the same, though? Is that why you prefer humans? To rebel against an overbearing father?" Zev asked slyly.
"You know that line is so boring. You reject a human, it must be because you prefer elves, you reject an elf, must be the opposite, you reject both, guess you've got a dwarf fetish. It is truly tiresome. And, for the record, I know for a fact that you've gone to bed with two humans while in the same time I've gone to bed with half of one, so let's not throw stones."
"That is not the entirety of what I'm talking about."
"You caught me," she said sarcastically, "I really, really just want to fuck a qunari."
Zev burst out laughing, "That never even occurred to me."
"Actually me either until this moment. They seem so… sterile. Do you suppose that's a thing?"
"How many qunari do you know?"
"I've met about a dozen, Sten would be the one I know best and I'm not sure he even has the parts for it."
"Well not him obviously," said Zev, thinking a moment, "But… I suppose I would climb a tree of that nature if the opportunity presented itself."
"Well if you manage it that is the one tryst I would actually like to hear about. Just… the mechanics of it alone."
"You could come watch."
"Always pushing it a bit too far, aren't you," she said, "Look, we're almost here. Not so bad, is it?" They had come to the outskirts of a village. From their vantage point at the crest of a rolling hill, they could see a cluster of buildings around the main road. They were on the new side, and the streets were pristine. Nary a puddle of piss to be seen nor smelt, though they likely would have been frozen over at this point.
Zev wrinkled his nose, "I don't think I will ever thaw."
"Well isn't that a blessing. Keep all that on ice for a few months."
"If it doesn't freeze and break off."
"One can always dream," Ten sighed, "All right…" she consulted the note, "I think it's that one."
"The queen's personal guard pays well I see," Zev said, looking up. It was a two story whitewashed stone cottage, situated about fifty feet off the main road, with a large walled garden out back. They approached it slowly, and Ten instructed Pigeon to wait by the front gate.
"Well he's not on my take anymore," sighed Ten. He's right. That's a very nice house, even for a royal guard. And it really isn't that far out of town. She rapped at the door.
There was movement in the house, and the door cracked open. Behind it was an elf with her hair up in a starched white wimple, wearing a starched white apron. Ten didn't recognize her. Her hair, where it was not covered, was a very light blond, and she stood a head taller than Ten.
"That master has donated to refugee charities already this month," the elf said, "If you need help, go to the village center, the mayor has set up a shelter."
"That's admirable," said Ten, "We're not refugees. I'm here to see Jock."
The elf blinked twice, startled, "You mean Master Stillpass?"
"Sure," said Ten, "Is he home?"
"Can I ask who's calling?"
"Tell him the Arlessa is here to see him."
The maid's eyes went wide. "You're the Arlessa?"
Ten paused. She did not know this elf. She assumed she was a village girl - there would be a couple of families in most of them. Someone needed to shovel the manure, after all. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"No," said the elf, "But I've heard of you. The master tells stories of you."
"I hope I live up to them," said Ten.
"If half of them are true I doubt you'll disappoint," she said, "How'd you do it?"
"I had help," she said.
"Is that your help?" the maid asked, gesturing with her chin at Zev.
"Do you suppose we could discuss this inside, perhaps by the fire?" Zevran asked.
"Oh. Foreign," sighed the maid, disappointed for some unknown reason, "Very well, come on in."
The maid sat them in the kitchen at a roughhewn table, clearly where she and whatever other help they might have ate. Ten was not one to complain, for the enormous cookfire at the end of it likely made it the warmest room in the house. She doffed her cloak, and rubbed her hands together briskly to bring the feeling back. Across her, she saw the color return to Zevran's cheeks, and he relaxed a bit. This would not last, however, as the master of the house came storming in, still in his pajamas though it was far past noon, his face dark with both fury and dread. He'd aged quite a bit since she'd seen him last, his cheeks drawn in and hollows under his eyes. The premature spider silk strands of gray that had started winding through the black hair at his temples since he was far too young for them had thickened, and she imagined they would soon overtake the entirety of his sideburns.
"How the fuck did you find me, Tabris?" he demanded.
"Hello to you too, Jochrim," Ten said, smiling brightly, "Lovely house you have. And in such an upscale town. It must have cost a fortune."
"What could you possibly want with me? I don't work there anymore, all right? I've nothing to do with you or your people."
"Oh, you can't think of anything that might bring me here?" Ten asked, "Anything at all?"
"I had nothing to do with that either," he said. Ten looked up to see that the young maid was standing in the corner, pretending to wipe down mugs in one of the kitchen cabinets, but was clearly more interested in listening.
"With what? Because I can think of several things you have done to warrant an unannounced visit from myself and my associate."
Jochrim's blue eyes fixed on Zev for the first time, "Who's he? Not one of your cousins." He looked him up and down, pausing as he saw the tattoos on his hands.
"No," said Ten, "Don't worry about him, he's here in case things go sideways, which I'm sure they won't. Right?"
"He's a Crow," Jochrim said, fear replacing the anger in his voice, "Oh I don't know about this, Tabris, I've tried very hard to never have an issue with you, but if you're fallen in with that crowd…"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist," said Ten, "He works for me, not the other way around. So why don't you sit down, relax, and we can make sure this conversation is as pleasant as possible. I'm sure you have an idea of what will happen if it is not."
"You brought an assassin to my home. My children live here!"
"Plenty of children live in the Alienage," said Ten, "It doesn't keep your kind from bringing all sorts of unsavory parts of society there."
Jochrim sighed and pulled out a chair. "I had nothing to do with the Tevinters," he said, his voice hushed.
"But you knew about it," said Ten.
"Not until it was too late. I promise," he said, "Look, I never had a problem with you, not once in my five years on the force. I always played ball. I never said a thing I oughtn't have. I even tried to intervene at your wedding. Whoever you're after, it's not me. Talk to Maycomb, he'll tell you."
"Oh I did talk to Kennit," said Ten, "And I also talked to Villais."
Jochrim's face went white.
"So you knew about that," said Ten, "You know what they did to him?"
"I didn't participate," said Jochrim, "It wasn't right and I'm not defending it, but they would have done the same to me if I had tried to intervene."
"So you watched. You watched your brother in arms get beaten unconscious, cut on, and thrown over a wall, where you knew exactly what was on the other side waiting for him," Ten said, crossing her arms, "Brave one you are."
"I never claimed to be. You don't understand, Ten, they see it as the worst sort of betrayal. If I said anything I'd have had the shit beaten out of me as well. Never worked again. I have kids to support."
"And a hell of a mortgage to pay apparently," Ten said, looking around, "Looks like you're in hock to some very fine furniture makers as well."
"They offered me the transfer, and I took it," said Jochrim, "And, yes, there was a signing bonus to encourage me to keep my mouth shut, which I did. I don't feel great about it, but there was nothing I could have done. I am sorry about what happened to Villais, he always did right by us, he was a good copper and a good commanding officer, but… he brought that on himself."
"Well, you're in luck," said Ten, "Because I'm not even here about that."
Jochrim paused. Tucked a lock of black hair behind his ear. "Then what."
"Well, you see, I've come up in the world. I am, of course, still very concerned with what goes on in the Alienage, but a few other things have happened," she said.
"Yes, I heard the Grey Wardens took you," said Jochrim, "And then they all perished, except you."
"Exactly," said Ten, "Which means that, in effect, I am the commander of Grey Warden forces in Ferelden. In fact, I think I outrank you now."
"I don't think that's how that works," said Jochrim.
"Well who do you take your orders from?"
"Officially? Captain Brisson of the Palace Guard."
"How many of you serve the queen personally?"
"Four," said Jochrim.
"So I suppose you four are now posted at the Arl of Denerim's estate, aren't you," said Ten.
"How did you know that?"
Thanks for the confirmation.
"How do I know anything? So if you're at the Arl of Denerim's estate, are you taking orders from the Captain of the Palace guard, or the Arl's captain?"
"Neither," said Jochrim, "Most recently, word has come from Ser Cauthrien. Teyrn Loghain's mistress at arms."
"Shit," sighed Ten.
"What exactly is your interest in this?"
"Are you loyal to the queen?" asked Ten.
"Of course," said Jochrim, "She's the closest thing we have to a leader these days."
"Let me rephrase that - are you loyal to the queen or to her father?"
"Are they not one in the same?" asked Jochrim.
"You would know that better than I," said Ten.
"No I wouldn't. If I've learned anything, it's to keep my damn head down," he said.
"And if I told you there was discord there? That perhaps they're at cross-purposes?"
"I'd ask you how in the hell you thought you knew that."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Jochrim thought for a moment. "The oath I swore was to the monarch," he said finally, "And for the moment, that is her."
"Good," said Ten, "Keep that in mind going forward, please. Now, tell me something else. Does the queen employ an Orlesian elf anywhere on her staff?"
"Yes," said Jochrim, leaning back, grateful to be able to answer a question that had no chance of implicating him in something dangerous, "Erlina, her lady's maid. She's almost as uppity as you. Every order that comes from the queen comes through Erlina. That took some getting used to, I'll tell you."
"Interesting," said Ten.
"If you ask me, the two of them are together. You know..."
"I didn't actually, and I'm sure you've thought about that quite a bit," Ten said, rolling her eyes. Zevran chuckled softly, "So I'll cut to the chase, you're clearly a busy man. You remember where your loyalties lie, and if you hear of anything, you send a message to me at the estate of the Arl of Redcliffe."
"Why would you be there? Find a cleaning job?"
"Yes," said Ten, "In fact I intend to clean quite a few houses. Just like I cleaned the Arl of Denerim's estate back at the beginning of summer. So let's make sure yours isn't on the list, now that I know where it is."
"You really are just chasing the hangman, aren't you, Tabris," Jochrim said, "Look, like I said, I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted to do my job, get my wages, and feed my kids. Can you make sure that happens? There's been far too much of this intrigue business. It chills me to the bone to admit it, but you did run a tight ship in the Alienage. If you're involved in royal politics at this point I know which side I'm betting on."
"Good man!" exclaimed Ten, "See? That was far more pleasant than I had banked on."
"Well I hate to think what you'd been banking on," said Jochrim, "So what exactly do I have to do to get you and this Crow out of my house before my wife and children come back from the market?"
"Have anything to add Zev?"
Zevran shrugged and shook his head.
"Good talk, Jock," she said, "I'll be seeing you."
"I suppose there's no way around that one," he sighed.
She rose, fastened her cloak about her again, and headed for the door. In the foyer, the maid caught up to them.
"Wait!" she said. She held a basket full of linens.
"Can I help you?" asked Ten.
"Hot stones," she said, "For your pockets. Keep your hands warm and all that."
"Thank you," said Ten, in surprise, "What's your name?"
"Nayara Virlas," she said, "I… hope I'm not overstepping, but… I've never seen Master Stillpass so out of sorts before."
"That wasn't my intention," said Ten.
"We heard rumors of what happened with the Tevinters," said Nayara, "Is it true?"
"Yes," said Ten.
"All the shem here think it's lies. Sensationalized. Slander cooked up by elfin radicals," she said, "They said the same about what happened to you, of course."
"Of course they think that," said Ten, "Half of what goes on here relies on people who think of themselves as decent, turning a blind eye."
"Look, it's best to leave town before the sun sets, which won't be long now," she said, "I have to get back home as well."
"You don't live here?" asked Ten.
"In Valmirren? Of course not," Nayara laughed, "No, another village, to the east, closer to the coast, it's called Hathenor Pen."
"How big a town is it?"
"Hardly a town," said Nayara, "Fifteen families. Homesteaders mostly. The rest of us work here."
"And they leave you alone?"
"Mostly," she said, "I'm surprised you didn't get accosted on your way in. I suppose not many are on the street in this weather. Bad things happen to elves on the roads in these parts after dark."
"We're not really supposed to be roaming the city, either," said Ten, looking worriedly outside. They had a couple of hours before the darkness set in, but she didn't look forward to navigating from the far south of the city all the way to the markets, "It's better to be there after dark."
"Sure, but in the city the worst that'll happen is you get hauled before a magistrate and pay a fine, which you look like you can afford."
"And out here?"
"Let's just say that the rope industry thrives," said Nayara, "I know we can see the walls of Denerim from the town square here, but… it's different. We're under jurisdiction of… oh Bann something or other, that family goes through heirs like firewood on a cold night, but ever since he lost half his men at Ostagar, nobody patrols the roads at night."
"I see," Ten said.
"This is all to say, do you think you could walk me home? It's not far, about a mile and a half, to the west. They got one of the other women from my village last week. I can handle myself in a fight, but they travel in packs."
"What do you mean they got her?" asked Ten..
"I'll point the tree out on the road."
"Shit," Ten sighed, "What did they accuse her of?"
"Sickening a baby that was in her care."
"They think she poisoned her own milk? That's… well I suppose it could be done but, that's insane."
"She was nursing her own son as well and he was fine. Now he's on goat's milk and probably won't survive the winter," Nayara said, shaking her head.
"Of all the fucked up shit they come up with…" Ten said, shaking her head.
The maid took what was ostensibly her own cloak from a hook by the door and fastened it about her neck, shoving two of the hot stones in her own pockets, "It's gotten worse, with all the refugees. They see elves that have more than they do and it… offends them."
"But is the village safe? Once you're there?"
"We hold our own," she said, "But all the same."
"Not a problem," said Ten, "I haven't killed anyone in two weeks now, I'm due."
"And I would be honored to escort two such lovely ladies," Zev said.
"I'm married," Nayara said, rolling her eyes, "Where'd you find him?"
"Long story," Ten sighed, "But daylight's fading, shouldn't we be on our way?"
"Indeed," said Nayara, "But he goes in front. I don't want him looking at my ass the whole way there."
"A totally fair request," said Ten, "Go on, Zev."
Bracing themselves, the trio stepped forth into the chill. The dog, only too delighted to be in a place where she could run free, led the way, as they made their way through the center of the village, and out onto the road heading east, very aware of the wan rays of sun dying at their backs.