The crowd gradually began to disperse, allowing the band to take their places once more and strike up a cheerful tune, to the delight of many who took to the dance floor once more. Fae started towards Ellethir, but was prevented when Morrigan intercepted the Inquisitor first, offering Fae a courteous nod from a distance.
A finger tapped on Fae's shoulder, and she whipped around to find Celene's trio of handmaidens curtsying before her. "My lady Seer," one of them said. "Her Majesty would like to speak with you on the balcony."
"Me? Why?"
The one on the left giggled. "In truth, Her Majesty has desired to speak with you since you arrived this evening, my lady, but she has been kept busy with the goings-on of the palace tonight."
"Her Majesty has a fondness for subjects of the arcane nature," the one on the right explained. "Tales of your unique talents met her ears many months ago. She would be honoured to speak with you."
"Uh, of course. I mean, the honour is mine, my lady. My ladies." Where was the smooth talking she'd had a grasp of earlier? It had been a long night.
Empress Celene had returned to her private balcony, gazing out to the edge of the forest below.
"Lady Seer Faellathi Tabris, Your Majesty." The handmaidens curtsied in unison. Had they practised that?
Celene nodded without looking back. "Thank you, my ladies. You may retire." The handmaidens curtsied once more, then departed, leaving Fae to hesitantly join the empress at the balustrade.
The empress said nothing, seemingly content to watch the tree-line in the distance. Fae wanted to simply turn and walk away, or at least break the silence, but that would be against the rules. So, she waited.
"I have wanted to speak with you since I first heard of your exploits," Celene finally said, still looking ahead.
"I've heard you have an interest in magic, Your Majesty," Fae acknowledged carefully.
"A relatively new interest, on my part, I admit, but one I take most seriously."
"The dissolution of the Circles affected everyone, not just mages."
"I do not speak of the Circle of Magi, Lady Tabris. I speak of magic itself. I have seen both the rewards and consequences of its use in recent days. And, in the spirit of our allied powers, I offer a gift; a weapon I believe will be safer in the hands of the Inquisition's best and brightest, than that of my own. It is one of many, elven in origin, but Madame Morrigan alone has the knowledge to make use of this one. That is why she will be joining your Inquisition. I hope you will be able to put her knowledge to good use."
"That is kind of you, Your Majesty. What is this weapon?"
"It is called an eluvian."
"An eluvian?!" Fae immediately regretted her surprised outburst when Celene's mouth also opened slightly in surprise. The corners of her lips turned up slightly, and she laughed lightly.
"I was given to understand that few alive today have heard of them, let alone know what they are, but I forget to whom I am speaking. Madame Morrigan is an old acquaintance of yours, if I recall correctly."
"She is, Your Majesty," Fae nodded. No point hiding that now. "But I didn't learn about the existence of eluvians from her. I assumed Master Tethras had written about the one we've encountered in his book, as it relates to another mutual friend of ours. Given its magical nature, I assume he was… vague, in his description."
"A broken eluvian claimed by Merrill, of Clan Sabrae, the champion of Kirkwall's lover," Celene said smoothly. "I confess, I had heard of this new novel and its intrigues, but what knowledge I have of either is second-hand. War does not lend itself to leisurely pursuits, but I suspect if a copy had found its way here with tales of eluvians, Briala would have ensured it did not remain here. Eluvians are meant to work in tandem with each other, and Briala holds the key to a great number of them. That is her weapon, though I doubt she will be as willing to share."
"Well…" Fae exhaled, mind whirring. "You are…very generous, Your Majesty. But why tell me about this, and not the Inquisitor?"
Celene laid one of her hands on Fae's. "Because I wanted to thank you personally. Briala has told me of your part in our happy reunion. I owe the Inquisition my life, but I owe you my mended heart. I tell you this, that you might win a little more favour with the Inquisitor."
Fae snuck a sideways look at Celene. "You believe I lack for favour with the Inquisitor?"
The empress smiled sadly. "I am aware that Dalish elves do not see other elves as their own." Ah. So that was it.
The corner of Fae's mouth quirked, and she cleared her throat a little to hide the giggle that threatened to bubble to the surface. "The Inquisitor doesn't see it like that. She is like Merrill, in that way; more… open-minded."
"That can only be a boon to an organisation like the Inquisition."
"It is." The polite conversation lapsed into silence once more.
Fae's feet felt stiff standing in the same position for so long. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to be subtle about it. Celene noticed, of course.
"May I ask you a question, Seer?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Your visions, do you believe them to be sent by Andraste? What exactly do you see?"
Fae stopped shifting, and cast her eyes on the balustrade before her. "I see memories when I touch certain physical objects. As far as I can tell, I see the most emotional memory from the last time the object was touched, if there have been any. Other than that, it's inconsistent. Most things trigger no vision at all, and even if it does, it can appear as quick flashes of movement, or it can be a longer scene, like watching a pantomime. As for whether they're sent by Andraste or not, I can't say. But I'm a mage, and the Fade holds memories like flies in a spiderweb; I can only assume that those facts are connected in some way."
"But no other mage does what you do."
"Not that I know of, no."
"Could it be Dalish magic in origin?"
"Magic is magic, Dalish or not. The Hero of Ferelden is a mage, and no more or less Dalish than I am. Our Dalish mothers were sisters, but they are both long dead, and even Neria was unable to find answers."
"I see." Celene was now entirely focused on Fae. Searching for signs of deception, perhaps. "Will you tell me of what you have seen? I have heard that many have taken on the pilgrimage to Skyhold to hear their fortunes told by you, although the ability you describe is somewhat different to their expectations, it seems."
Fae hesitated, her knuckles white on the railing. Now she wished she'd advocated for wearing masks.
"I apologise if I ask too much of you, Seer, I know—"
"When your nobles bring me their prized possessions," Fae said stiffly. She shouldn't have interrupted. But Josephine wasn't here, and Celene was asking too much. "I don't see the memory of a noble's cape flapping in the wind as they ride on horseback with their lord father for the first time. I see the elven servant whipped for being unable to mend the tears in the cape from the tree branches discreetly enough. I see a starving man wiping the blood of an elven street urchin off the sword of a newly-initiated chevalier. I see a lover stealing one last kiss from her love before being married off to a man at least twice her age." Fae was glaring directly at Celene now. "I see slums burning, I smell them, and I hear small feet running faster than they should ever have needed to. But you would remember that yourself, Your Majesty."
Celene's lips pursed, but she did not break eye-contact. "I regret what I had to do in Halamshiral."
"I'm sure you do, Your Majesty," Fae said hollowly. "I've never been present during a Purge, myself, but I've seen the aftermath in person, in Denerim's Alienage where I spent the first few years of my life. Not even the children I'd played with in the orphanage were spared. But the man who ordered it is dead, as are those who permitted it to happen, and that's as close to justice as we can get in this life. Even the former Queen Anora of Ferelden hasn't been sighted, not once, since her arrival in Antiva's court."
Celene expression remained neutral, even as she felt the throbbing above her eyebrows which warned of an oncoming headache. "Then I can only imagine what vengeance you would wish on me. It was not only my doing, but I understand. What I do not understand is why, then, you and yours still chose to save my life?"
Fae looked away. "We saved you, this time, because tonight you are a piece in a game much bigger than even the one you're used to. Allow me to ask you a question, in return, Your Majesty: Do you believe in the Maker?"
Celene blinked, but she answered readily. "Of course. Our very empire stands as a testament to His glory. Why do you ask?"
Fae shrugged. "The Maker knows all, sees all, isn't that right?"
"Indeed."
"The Chant of Light teaches that when His Good and Faithful die, their souls travel through the Fade to be at his side."
"Yes, though if you already know the answer, why ask the question?"
Fae breathed in the night air, and exhaled slowly. "I just wonder… When you die, do you think the Maker will still want you at His side, when He knows what you've done?"
Celene took her time to answer. "No one but Andraste Herself is a paragon of virtue," she said pointedly. "Everything I have, I have given to this holy empire."
"Even that which wasn't yours to give, Your Majesty," Fae whispered. "Do you know, I forget things like everyone else, like what I had for breakfast last week, who had a letter for me, but I still remember every vision I've ever had. I can't even remember Neria's face, but I can remember my mother's. I can only imagine what the Maker Himself remembers."
Celene's eyes narrowed, and Fae finally saw the woman capable of ordering the deaths of her whole household, of burning down entire streets. Fae felt familiar twinges of fear and guilt; that she had gone too far, and that she herself had inspired the same dread when pushed to fight fire with fire.
"We are grateful for what you have done, Seer, but you are hovering perilously close to impertinence."
"My apologies, Your Majesty, I am new to the Game, and prone to making the wrong moves," Fae said quickly, curtsying. "The Inquisition thanks you for your friendship. I will bid you goodnight. Credit where credit is due, Your Majesty, you do host a wonderful party."
"We are delighted to have the honour to work together, Lady Seer," Celene smiled graciously, as if nothing out of the ordinary at all had happened. "We bid you a good evening."
A/N: Hi hello meant to get this out a few days ago, but tl;dr surgery 3