The Empress Herself
The initial negotiations were slated to take up the majority of this month. If things had gone well, you might have managed to meet the empress by the final week. Instead, you are almost rushed through a number of initial negotiations that feel more like formalities.
Quick questions about what Ferelden wants, and what it offers in return. Short snippets of conversation between meetings about tolerances for risk and the situation on the ground. It is all, well, to you it feels incredibly slow but judging by Lady Canis' reactions it is very rushed.
"Something's happening." She mutters. "Why would the empress be so eager to meet us."
"Perhaps she does not want to become a broodmother." You note flatly. "Which seems an eminently sensible position to me."
"The Blight is hardly a concern." Lady Canis scoffs.
"Four and a half thousand of Ferelden's warriors lie dead because of the Blight!" You reply, perhaps a little louder than is truly called for. "You cannot say it is not a concern when so many of your own comrades, nobles and peasant alike, lie slain by the very thing you dismiss so easily!"
Your lodgings are silent in response to your outburst. Nobody wishes to be the first to speak after your outburst. It is, truthfully, rather embarrassing.
Not to mention that admitting the death toll in a place where you are undoubtably watched closely was almost certainly a mistake.
"I do not mean to question the presence of the Blight." Lady Canis says cautiously. "It is more that I do not think that Orlais will care even if they believe it."
You let out a sigh. "No, I must apologise. I overreacted. It… I fought with those men, in a position we should never have been in. It angers me when people dismiss the threat."
"Well, the Empress will almost certainly do so." Lady Canis informs you. "Whether or not she believes it, it will be an important negotiating tactic on her part. Can you remain calm? If not…"
"I have negotiated with the being who murdered my entire family." You interrupt her. "I will be calm."
Lady Canis gives you a sceptical look but says nothing further. For your part, you step away to begin preparing yourself for what you are quickly coming to expect will be a terrible meeting.
The meeting with the Empress happens the very first day of the second week. Naturally, you are escorted to her by soldiers who wear no symbol other than that of Orlais itself. Weapons are not permitted into the room, save for the guards.
Armand carries your blade for you, ass the whole party was forewarned. Lady Canis had objected, but given all you know about Orlais, you are not eager to be unarmed. This causes no small amount of raised eyebrows and at least one argument with someone calling himself Michel de Chevin.
Eventually, however, Armand is accepted as a sword bearer and permitted to carry the sheathed blade into the room, even if he cannot bring his own. Which seems frankly bizarre to you but that, you are coming to understand, is simply how Orlais is.
You enter an audience chamber, not the throne room as that would be too big though there is still a throne here. Empress Celene Valmont waits in said throne, dressed in a blue dress and a mask with far too many colourful feathers. About her are a number of courtiers and diplomats, maybe five, plus that number of guards again.
More importantly, three steps behind her and taking great pains to look different, is the elf you met on the streets.
She is dressed differently, in a faded blue dress, and her mask has been changed to one that covers her face. Her hair is hidden under a simple hat, but her eyes give her away. That and her dagger, but those can be either reproduced or handed about.
Still, you make sure to catch her eye and give her a knowing smile before you greet the empress.
The formalities of royalty are rather convoluted here, far more so than in your home, but then at home you are merely a prince. Regardless, there is little here to comment on, as hailing from Ferelden you are spared the arguments about kneeling to a foreign monarch.
A benefit to King Cailan's relaxed attitude towards royal status that you have not had to have the argument with him you suppose.
"We greet the delegation of the King of Ferelden. And gladly receive the greetings offered by his majesty." Empress Celene proclaims with a rather passable imperious tone.
You prefer something warmer, but different cultures you suppose.
"Your imperial majesty is too kind." Lady Canis says stiffly. "I will be sure to pass your warm regards to King Cailan in turn."
The empress inclines her head in a manner that implies generous acceptance. "Now, you have come to us to beseech aid against the fifth Blight."
As Lady Canis responds, something about what she said catches your attention. No, not what she said, what she did not say. There was no 'supposed' or 'alleged' in that sentence.
You listen as negotiations continue, diplomats casting doubt on the Blight, but never the Empress. She never says a word about disbelieving the Blight.
Your eyes drift to the elf. When you met, she chided you for taking risks, gave you advice however unwelcome it was. She also had interest in how you became a noble. Obvious given how ambition seems to be the watchword of this empire… Yet, even the hope of it…
You return your gaze to the empress. There were rumours that she was in contact with King Cailan. Could it be? Suppose it was true, what would that mean?
The diplomat scores some point against Lady Canis, who is frankly outclassed here.
There, just for a fraction of a second, a flash of irritation on the empress's face.
Then, like the last piece of a mechanism sliding into place, the picture becomes clear in a flash of insight. The Empress wants you to succeed. She is, for whatever reason, invested in aiding Ferelden against the Blight.
You already knew her faction generally supported an independent Ferelden and held a thin margin against Gaspard de Chalon's faction, but now you can contextualise it. She wants to send troops but she needs both a guarantee that they do not invade Ferelden without orders, and to do it in such a way that her opponents cannot undermine her using Orlais'… unique political culture.
In fact, you would not be surprised if the diplomats and courtiers are actually not from her faction at all. A method of trying to break the opposition by appearing to side with parts of them.
The question is how to use this information. Ironically, typical negotiations are in many ways likely to be counterproductive. There needs to be some kind of 'concession' so that the empress can sell this as a victory to her own people.
Several such concessions are considered in the next few minutes. Admittedly, if you could speak openly of such things it would be easier, but the time honoured tradition of passing notes will serve for now.
Lady Canis is only of limited help, attention consumed with negotiations as she is. The other staff contribute more, but ultimately the idea runs into a simple problem. There is no easy concession that will be significant enough without actually hurting Ferelden.
Maybe, with some smooth talking you could come up with something. You floated the idea of proclaiming the Empress the 'High Queen' of Ferelden. That led into a whole argument about potentially legitimising future invasions and the fact that it might give Teyrn Loghaine a heart attack.
Without agreement or an official sign off you are forced to accept that this avenue is exhausted. Which leaves you at something of a loose end. For a time you are simply staring at the ongoing negotiations, feeling about as annoyed as the Empress at Lady Canis' struggles.
Then, you have an idea.
The Empress is clearly attempting to appear neutral in the matter in accordance with Orlesian politics. You have no doubt there are at least two spies currently watching the meeting. Thus she cannot simply tell you what she needs in order to come to Ferelden's aid.
However, you have a way to speak to her that no one else in the room can hear or even perceive.
Resting your hand on your head as though bored you reach out to the Empress with your mind.
"Greetings your Imperial Majesty, or do you prefer Empress Celene?" You ask. "I am, as you may recall, Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol. Unless I miss my guess, I believe that you and I can assist each other."
The Empress' hands flex briefly and there is the slightest widening of her eyes. The elf glances at her nervously. There must be some covert signal between the two of them because the elf fixes her eyes on you and places a hand on her dagger.
It is almost amusing that she thinks she could kill you before you killed her in return.
"Lord Russandol, I assume that you are capable of reading my thoughts then." Empress Celene replies, even her thoughts flavoured with an iron control.
"Yes and no." You reassure her. "As things currently stand I only 'hear' what you wish me to hear. It is more complicated than that, but I do not think you are interested in the technicalities."
"I see that the rumours of your wizardry were true." The Empress replies with a sense of wry amusement. "Is this the part where you threaten to reveal my innermost thoughts if I do not support Ferelden."
"I merely have abilities some would call magic." You retort. "As for threats, no, we both know that you are already in support of Ferelden's cause. Though I will not delve into the why."
"A comfort, if I was not having to take your word for it." The Empress thinks dryly.
"I could always have done this." You point out. "I did not have to tell you. That I did should earn me a modicum of trust, do you not agree?"
"Perhaps." The Empress replies, in a tone that implies the opposite. "Tell me then, lord Russandol, what do you wish of me if not to blackmail me for my support?"
"In truth, it is simple." You explain. "It is clear to me that you want to support Ferelden."
"Without reading my mind of course." Empress Celene comments dryly.
"You humans are not so good at hiding your emotions as you believe yourselves to be." You reply. "I do not need to read you mind to know your thoughts."
The Empress' scepticism needs no words to make itself completely clear.
"Empress Celene, I think that, whatever you believe my goals are, we share an objective." You begin slowly. "I wish Ferelden every possible support in its fight against the Blight, you wish for Ferelden to remain independent for whatever reason. I think we can both agree this goal is best served by your forces aiding the kingdom. The only question is what I can do to enable you to send help."
The Empress' face is impassive. "Assuming this is not a trap of course."
Finding a way to give her a disbelieving look without being noticed is a challenge but not one beyond you. "I think we both know this cannot possibly be a trap. Much as I am certain you realised when you thought I was going to blackmail you, there is no way I can reveal what is spoken in this conversation without making it a matter of your words against mine, and which of us the Empress and which of us the second class citizen from a foreign country?"
There is the tiniest twitch of the Empress' lips that might have been a smile or might have been a tic. "Very well, lord Russandol. The matter is simple. I need to ensure that there is both sufficient support for intervention and also that my own people are in charge of it, while ideally taking the forces from Gaspard. As to what you can do to aid that? I have some thoughts on the matter."
The Empress spends the rest of that meeting discussing what you might do to aid her cause. Undermining the officers who oppose her, making a nuisance of yourself to give her a reason to get rid of Ferelden's delegation. Though she acknowledges that is a risky play that could easily backfire.
You do ask if it is worth seeking allies in unconventional places, but that is again a path fraught with peril. The Empress seems convinced she has all the allies she can get as it stands. She instead directs you towards things that might in some way undermine her opponents.
You note, but do not mention that she never specifically tells you to undermine Gaspard directly. Fortunately, you are more than happy to do so without any suggestion. At this rate, you are likely to do it even if it does not benefit you.
Eventually the meeting comes to an end. There will be more in the month to come, but they will be few and progress is not expected. That was anticipated, in stark contrast to the way Lady Canis stamps on your foot the moment you are alone.
"What on earth were you doing?" She screeches. "After everything I taught you, you spent the whole negotiations staring soulfully into the Empress' eyes. Everyone is going to think… think… I can't even say it aloud lest it make it real!"
"What on earth would they possibly think of the two of us staring at each other?" You ask, genuinely confused. "It is no violation of convention, and it is hardly unusual to attempt to read opponents by staring into their eyes."
Lady Canis makes a strangled noise, and Armand coughs.
"It did rather look like you were thinking about something other than the negotiations." He says awkwardly. "Matters of the, uh, romantic sort?"
The expression of pure horror on your face says more than any words could. Sadly, that only makes Lady Canis more furious. Why only looking like you have some deeply unnatural urges towards the human empress[1] is worse than actually having those feelings is a mystery to you but again, Orlais.
As Lady Canis predicted somewhere in her ranting, that will be the last time you see the Empress at one of those meetings. She sends a representative instead. Apparently, according to what the Jennies have to say, there are rumours that you and she are having an affair.
Once you finish getting over the revulsion that thought causes you, the Empress' actions make more sense. She is distancing herself publicly to avoid any implications of 'impropriety'.
That her elf spy seems to take great glee in spreading rumours that you offended the Empress by staring at her all meeting is annoying. That said, the rumours do nothing to your standing.
Apparently Orlesians literally cannot think less of you.
Griffons in the Sun
You do not merely have the one meeting with the empress, or her representative at least. There is a series of meetings through the month, six in total. It is after the first of these meetings that you take the time to embark on the last of this month's projects. Since you are here for the Blight, it seems foolish not to speak to the Grey Wardens.
Finding the Wardens proves more than a little frustrating. Most of the information that you readily find points you out of the city entirely, to fortresses in Montsimmard and Jader. Doubly frustrating is the fact that you passed through Jader on your way to Val Royeux.
Had you known at the time you likely would have spoken to them at the time.
Given that you cannot afford to leave Val Royeux to seek out these strongholds you are at something of an impasse for several days. Eventually, after far more conversations with various servants than they would have preferred, you are directed to a small house not too far from the palace.
You knock on the door and wait for it to open. Eventually it does, revealing a young man with sandy hair and bleary eyes. He looks up at you in surprise.
"I bid you a good morning." You greet him. "I am seeking the Grey Wardens of Orlais, do I have the right house?"
"Uh, well, I am a Grey Warden." The young man drops his voice and looks away. "Sort of. What do you need?"
"I am Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol, eldest of the sons of Fëanaro." You introduce yourself.
"Uh… Gaspard de Montford, uh, son of… I'm not supposed to say." He admits guiltily.
"A pleasure to meet you Warden Gaspard de Montford, do you have a preferred name?" You ask.
"Uh, you can call me Gaspard? I guess. I'm not really a noble anymore." The young man says in clear confusion.
"Warden Gaspard then, please call me Russandol." You complete the greeting. "Might I come in."
Thoroughly lost the young man shrugs. "Sure, why not."
The inside of the house is rather sparse. In fact, it would not exactly surprise you to discover that it is rarely inhabited. This is of course not solely based on the dust hastily swept into corners, but that is a sign too.
"So. What can I do for you?" Warden Gaspard asks.
After a few moments of thought you decide to simply skip the small talk. "I am here with the delegation of Ferelden seeking aid from Orlais for the Fifth Blight."
"No." The young man says immediately.
"What do you mean, no?" You ask, a little taken aback.
"I'm not getting involved in the Game, not in any capacity. The Grey Wardens are neutral in all political matters." Warden Gaspard says in a tone that suggests he is reciting something long memorised.
"I was under the impression that the Grey Wardens had broad mandate to do whatever is necessary to combat the Blight." You observe neutrally.
Warden Gaspard takes a deep breath. "Listen, I am not getting involved in the Game, and that is final."
"Very well, then let us move on to other matters." You state.
For a moment, there is silence. The young Warden licks his lips and shuffles nervously. The sounds of horses and chatter from outside come in faintly through the window.
"I notice that you are the only Warden in Val Royeux at the moment, is that standard practice or are the others busy?" You ask.
Warden Gaspard's shoulders relax minutely. "Well, it's a little bit of both, to be honest. We try to have a couple of people stationed here, just in case, but in practice we can't always spare the men."
"So you have been here alone for a while then?" You prompt.
He waves his hand. "Sort of, we're in a bit of a spot actually, so, it's been four hundred years since the Blight, so we kind of, sort of, uh, misplaced the treaties that would let us call Orlais to fight."
"Should you really be telling me this?" You ask.
Warden Gaspard runs a hand through his hair. "Oh, no, actually it's sort of well known. Uhhh, the commander was here earlier in the year trying to get Orlais to do something, but most people seem to think it's Ferelden's problem."
You pinch the bridge of your nose. It would be really nice if you could take the moral high ground here, but frankly that does sound like things your brothers have said in the past.
"I see, so what are you doing in the meantime?" You ask.
Warden Gaspard grimaces and the tightness in his shoulders returns. "We're combatting the Blight in a variety of ways, primarily by watching for possible emergences from the Deep Roads."
That has the sound of another rehearsed speech. The young man seems to have plenty of them. Perhaps if you were to push more directly, he might say more, and it is tempting in truth. Perhaps you could do something to help the Orlesian Wardens.
After one more searching look at Warden Gaspard, you decide against it. The young man is wound like a wire, and the last thing you want to do is get thrown out because you could not take a hint. Even with the best of intentions, your actions are not always taken in the spirit they were meant.
"Is there anything you can do to assist the Wardens in Ferelden? Anything you can send them at all?" You ask. "They are few in number, and not the most popular among the nobility."
"Oh, did they send you?" Warden Gaspard replies.
You shake your head. "Not directly but given that we have been rather delayed in gaining the reinforcements Ferelden required, I think any assistance that can be sent would be appreciated."
"Ok, ok." Warden Gaspard frowns. "We can't really send more men, not without Ferelden's permission."
"I can write a letter to Teyrn Lohaine." You offer. "I do not know if he will honour it, but it may allow some additional Wardens into the kingdom."
"Ok. Ok, yeah, I'll write to the Warden Commander, see if there's anyone she'd like to send." Warden Gaspard nods. "Supplies maybe, though those are really more of a kingdom thing."
"I know they have reclaimed the fortress of Soldier's Keep, so if there is anything that a Warden branch should have, they can set up there." You point out.
Warden Gaspard worries at his lip for a while. "Another thing for the letter to the commander."
"They have also been planning something using magic. I do not know the full details, but if there are any experienced mages or magical supplies that could be sent that would be useful." You supply.
"Most of that would be reinforcements." Warden Gaspard thinks at length. "Magical supplies I can probably do actually. I could requisition some from the Circle and send them directly. Customs might be trouble, do you think your letter could take care of it?"
Now it is your turn to pause in thought for a while. "Probably, whoever was delivering them would need to be searched and vetted, the Teyrn is rather paranoid, but if it is for the war effort I imagine he would be willing to accept them."
"Very well, I'll see to that." Warden Gaspard seems to have surge of energy with that decision.
He rises to his feet and you mirror him. Extending your hand to shake you give the young man a smile.
"Thank you, your aid against the Blight is most appreciated. It warms my heart to meet someone who is willing to give aid without first making me jump through hoops to earn it." You state.
"Well, Grey Wardens are empowered to do whatever is necessary to oppose the Blights." Warden Gaspard says with a shy smile of his own. "Perhaps I will see you on the battlefield before this is over?"
"I shall look for you." You promise.
[1] Sorry Idril but it is true. When the only elf you share company with is a maiar/elf/human hybrid there really is nothing else to call it.