They were shown to quarters in the Palace, and Briala followed Andoriel into the room where she was quartered.
Briala slammed the door behind her.
“You told us she would help!” she snapped at Andoriel. “You told us she would ally!”
“I said no such thing,” Andoriel said. “And the Queen had the right to make the choice she did.”
“All that talk about how we are the same—it was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Briala snarled.
“What are you talking about?” Andoriel demanded.
“You care about lands lost so long ago, with not a thought to those living now!” Briala said. “You hardly care enough to help us when we need it!”
Andoriel’s expression grew stormy. “Aye, we care for our lands!” Andoriel snapped. “And for the children stolen by Templars, the Clans killed by Chevaliers, the nobles who call for our blood, who want nothing more than to see us all dead or cowed, bowing to their shemlen Queen and their god!”
“But Celene is not like that!” Briala insisted. “She would help--”
“Like she helped Halam’shiral?” Andoriel demanded, and Briala felt like she had been slapped. “Stop defending her! She has used you and lied to you and hurt your family, destroyed your home!”
“What else would you have me do?” Briala tore at her hair. “She is a murderess, but Gaspard is worse! He would see us all slaughtered like pigs, driving his empire to war! What would you have me do?”
Andoriel stopped. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, da’len. We must meet with the Coalition. Beyond that...” she sighed. “I don’t know what to do about Orlais. Our troubles are enough without Orlais falling apart at the seams.”
Briala folded her arms. “I fail to see the good it will do.”
“And I fail to see the harm,” Andoriel informed her, her tone frosty. “The meeting is in three days’ time. Be there or not, but if you are not there, we cannot help.”
“As if you would help a flat-ear,” Briala hissed, remembering the words of Clan Virnehn.
Andoriel’s ears flushed. “That is enough,” she snapped. “Come. If you have such trouble believing my words, I will take you there now.” she took Briala’s arm and steered her out of the door.
“Now where is that slippery friend of yours?” Andoriel muttered.
“Who? Felassan?”
Andoriel nodded.
“I’m not sure,” Briala said. “I do not keep him.”
“Then I shall find him myself.”
They found Felassan examining one of the mosaics that decorated the walls of the palace. The mosiac depicted the wedding of the Prince-Consort and the Queen, and interestingly, showed many elves as well as dwarves in it, as well as symbolism that could be associated with the Dalish.
“Come on, you,” Andoriel said, grabbing Felassan by the shoulder.
“Where exactly are we going?” Felassan asked, surprised.
“To see the Coalition.”
“So, they are meeting soon, then?”
“In three days.”
In one of the Palace’s many hallways, they came to meet the Prince-Consort, who had still not changed out of his armor.
“Prince-Consort,” Andoriel inclined her head. “We must go to the Coalition.”
“Of course,” the Prince-Consort said. “I was just about to go myself. Apparently the majority of the ambassadors and Keepers have arrived.”
“Have they?” they fell into step with the Prince-Consort as he walked down the hall.
He nodded. “My lady wife needs to stay here,” he explained to Andoriel. “But they have requested my presence as soon as possible.”
“Is it urgent?”
“I do not believe it is more urgent then when you left,” the Prince-Consort said with a slight frown.
"But we’re still having problems.”
“Oh, certainly.”
“Who else is there besides them? The Warden-Commander, the Grand Enchanter, Lady Hawke…?”
“No, none of them, not that I know of—no one has yet been able to locate the Warden-Commander,” he said, pursing his lips. “Keeper Merrill is coming, of course, but Lady Hawke has not accompanied her.”
“Lady Hawke, Your Majesty?” Briala interjected. “Of Kirkwall? Why would she be there?”
“Oh, quite a few reasons,” the Prince-Consort explained. “She is Keeper Merrill’s friend, and deeply involved in the Kirkwall affair.”
Briala’s lip curled. She knew of the problems of Kirkwall.
“And what of Chantry representatives?” Andoriel asked. “Sister Leliana, or any of her people…?”
“They would have been refused, but they did not even approach,” the Prince-Consort said. “The Sister has not so much as contacted me in the months you’ve been gone.”
“Creators,” Andoriel muttered. “Briala, da’len, do you have any recent information on what the Chantry has been up to?”
Briala raised her eyebrows. “Recent? No, not particularly.”
“Damn,” she shook her head. “And the Circles?”
“I believe one of Fiona’s people has come to see us,” the Prince-Consort said. “But the woman herself is not here.”
“The Circles are in uproar,” Briala said. “That much I know.”
“Oh, that much anyone knows,” the Prince-Consort said.
They went through the Palace, through winding back corridors and strange, darkened spaces, and Briala became hopelessly lost till they came to a small antechamber. The room had a tall mirror at the back of it, one that reached all the way to the ceiling. It glowed a dark blue and was set in a clearly dwarven frame. The mirror made the strangest sounds, like water on the surface of a pond.
Felassan stared at it, openmouthed. “I’d never have guessed...” he whispered
“What is this?” Briala asked.
“It is called an eluvian,” the Prince-Consort explained. “The ancient elves used them for transport. You step into one, and appear out of another somewhere else.”
“Magic?”
“Of course.”
“How did you...” Felassan breathed.
“Didn’t I tell you we had them?” Andoriel said.
“Yes, but I—I hadn’t really thought...”
“Keeper Merrill is the one who started restoring the network,” Andoriel said.
“This one is ours,” the Prince-Consort explained. “Keeper Merrill activated one in the Frostbacks, and when she brought the information about the network to the Coalition, they decided to share it with us.”
“I should very much like to meet your Keeper Merrill,” Felassan said. “How did she do it?”
“It’s a very complicated field of study,” Andoriel sighed. “She gave us an explanation, but only a few people have been able to replicate her process.”
“Thelhen summoned Imshael to make one of these work, didn’t he?” Briala asked Felassan.
Felassan nodded. “He did.”
The Prince-Consort smiled at them. “Come,” he said. “Why don’t we show you how it works?”
The Prince-Consort put his palm on the mirror, and it sunk in. His arm went in up to the shoulder, and then he walked through it entirely, vanishing from view. Andoriel followed him, walking through it without a second thought.
Felassan came to the mirror, paused, and touched it. Carefully, he sunk his arm in up to the elbow. Briala watched him.
“Is it safe?” she asked.
Felassan smiled. “Oh, yes,” he said.
He reached out his other hand to her. She took it, and they walked through together. On the other side was a strange, foggy place, full of other mirrors. Andoriel and the Prince-Consort were waiting for them.
“Where are we?” Briala asked.
“The Crossroads,” Andoriel said. “Where all the eluvians come together. This way.” they came to another mirror that glowed a deep green.
On the other end of the mirror, they came to an unfamiliar ruin that was like nowhere Briala had ever seen before. It was old, crowded with trees and flowers. People and aravels and tents were everywhere, all bustling about and very busy.
“Here is our meeting place,” Andoriel said.
“Where are we?” Briala asked.
“The Brecelian forest,” Andoriel said. “One of the graveyards of our ancient mothers and fathers. During the Blight, it was occupied by werewolves, but the Warden-Commander and the Prince-Consort chased them out.”
“Come,” the Prince-Consort said. “The others are up ahead.”
“The other ambassadors?” Felassan asked.
Andoriel nodded. “Them, the Keepers--” she heaved a sigh. “I hope Surana will come, but I don't know.”
“Not the Warden who burnt down Amaranthine?” Briala asked, surprised. “You mentioned her earlier, but...”
Andoriel clucked her tongue. “Is that really all the west remembers her for?”
“She did, didn’t she?”
“And she killed the Archdemon, and brought the King and Queen of Ferelden together, and defeated the werewolves of the Brecelian.”
“And she was the one who brought my lady wife and I together as well,” the Prince-Consort added.
They came to a clearing, surrounded by stone. There was a wide variety of people here, all chatting softly amongst themselves. The Prince-Consort immediately moved off to speak to a Dalish woman with ash-blonde hair.
“That’s Keeper Lanaya,” Andoriel explained in a soft voice, gesturing to the blonde woman. “The Keeper who founded the Coalition, the first one to join with the Wardens. Come—you should speak with her.”
They joined the Prince-Consort’s side, and Lanaya smiled at them in greeting. “Ah,” she said. “Our western cousins?”
“This is Ambassador Briala, of Halam’shiral,” Andoriel said. “And this is Ambassador Felassan, of the western Dalish Clans.”
“Ander’an’atish’an,” Lanaya said, her eyes lingering on Felassan. She then glanced at Andoriel, who did the oddest thing—she gave the tiniest shake of her head. Briala narrowed her eyes, confused, but Lanaya began to speak again. “It’s wonderful to have representatives from the west,” she said. “Andoriel has been trying for months, but we hadn’t heard any promising results.”
“Am I to understand your Coalition truly considers city elvhen kin?” Felassan asked. “Many of the...western Clans...”
“Oh, yes,” Lanaya nodded. “Why—see, there’s Ambassador Tabris, of Denerim,” she pointed at a dark woman with curly black hair. “And Ambassador Cohen, from Redcliffe. And—oh, I’m sure they’ll be introduced. But there’s an ambassador from every major Alienage here, except for the western ones.” she looked at Briala. “I hope you can help change that,” she said with a smile.
“Your meeting is in several days, you said?” Felassan asked.
“Three days from now,” Lanaya said. “We need to wait for everyone else to arrive.”
“I cannot wait here several days.” Briala said, worried. “Celene will miss me, and then your secrecy will be lost.”
“You can go back and forth as often as you want,” Andoriel said. “Or you could send a message. The Queen already expressed an interest in speaking to you, you could likely ask her to throw Celene off your trail.”
Briala nodded. “It is not dangerous to go through the mirror so often?”
“No, not at all,” Lanaya said.
“The eluvians were used for travel in Elvhenan,” Felassan said. “More people used them, and more often, and nothing bad came of it.”
“You’re sure?” Briala said, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the eluvian.
“Quite sure.”
Andoriel, the Prince-Consort, and Lanaya shared an unreadable look before Andoriel turned to Briala again.
“So, you may return to Orzammar and come back here at any time,” she said. “for now, I suggest you go about and get to know the other ambassadors who are here.”
Briala and Felassan looked at each other.
“You are certain?” Felassan asked.
Andoriel sighed. “Yes, I'm certain,” she said. “Ah—there's Hannah—Ambassador Dysla,” she pointed to a tall elvhen woman with the muscular arms of a baker, in plain city elf dress. “Ambassador Dysla!” she waved.
The Ambassador came over. “Your Majesty, good afternoon,” she bowed to the Prince-Consort, who smiled and inclined his head. She straightened and looked to Lanaya and Andoriel. “Keeper Lanaya, Andoriel, hello,” she beamed. “I just got here. Maker, but those mirror things of yours are bloody useful.”
“We like to think so,” Lanaya said.
Ambassador Dysla glanced at Felassan and Briala. “Hello,” she said. “I don't believe we've met.”
“I’m Ambassador Briala, of Halam’shiral.” Briala said.
“Ambassador Hannah Dysla, of the Highever Alienage,” the woman said, shaking Briala’s hand with a firm grip.
“The Coalition extends all the way to Highever?” Briala raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“As far north as Kirkwall, with some Dalish Keepers from the Free Marches,” Ambassador Dysla explained. “It’s good you’re here. We don’t have any Orlesian representatives.” she snorted. “Or ‘western’ representatives. Whichever.” she glanced at Felassan. “And you?”
“Felassan, of the western Clans,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said. “Briala, have you met any of the other city ambassadors?”
Briala shook her head.
“Oh—well, David and Uvundar are here,” Ambassador Dysla tapped her lip. “That's Ambassador Ile and Ambassador Tabris, of course,” she added. “Keeper, has anyone else shown up?”
“Ambassadors Jathann, Cohen and Sarah,” Lanaya said. “Just over there, the last I saw,” she pointed towards a group of elves on the far side of the clearing, none of whom wore vallaslin.
Ambassador Dysla nodded. “Well, come on,” she said. “You should meet them if you haven't! Can't hang out with these stuffy Dalish buggers forever, can we?” she winked at Andoriel, who laughed.
“Alright,” Briala felt a bit dazed, followed Ambassador Dysla to the others, Felassan coming along as well.
Andoriel watched Briala and Felassan talk to the other ambassadors.
“I don’t like that Felassan,” Andoriel muttered to Lanaya as soon as Felassan and Briala were out of earshot.
“’Slow arrow?’” Lanaya raised her eyebrows. “Not a good sign.”
“Exactly. He could be from a Clan like Keeper Dhaiveira’s, but he’s never so much as mentioned a Clan name.”
Lanaya raised her eyebrows further. “That actually worries me far more.”
Andoriel inclined her head.
“He watches everything,” Zevran said. “Far more closely than Briala does—with a more practiced eye. That is...unnerving.”
“How so?” Lanaya asked.
“If his story is to be believed, Felassan is from some backwoods Clan. Briala has been embroiled in the Orlesian court since she was young.”
Lanaya frowned. “That doesn't sound good,” she muttered to herself. “And what about Briala?”
“She’s not what I would call harmless, but she isn’t an active threat.” Andoriel said.
“Oh, certainly not harmless,” Zevran gave a small chuckle. “I suspect that Empress Celene may want to watch her step, if you see my meaning.”
“She’s his friend,” Andoriel explained. “And he’s quite protective of her.”
“That’s surely a good thing, isn’t it?” Lanaya asked, glancing between the two of them. “He wouldn't do anything to put her in harm's way.”
“Ah, friendship is not always a guarantee of lack of harm,” Zevran said.
Andoriel frowned. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He just...gives me a bad feeling. Has anyone had any more odd dreams?”
“Keeper Merrill said that Feynriel’s trying to keep an eye out for the Elder One in the Fade, but hasn’t come across anything other than the usual oddness,” Lanaya said, her brow furrowed.
“And that usual oddness involves a lot of wolf imagery and the name 'Fen'harel', I take it?”
Lanaya nodded. “It does.” she let out a breath through her nose. “Have any spirits you've spoken to--?”
“More about Fen'harel, nothing useful,” Andoriel sighed. “No specifics, of course. I asked a Wisdom spirit about him, she couldn't give me anything,”
Lanaya rubbed her chin. “What about the mages in Orzammar, Prince-Consort?”
Zevran shook his head. “I'm afraid even if we hosted any dreamwalkers—which we do not—all they would see would be echoes of Orzammar. Nothing other than the normal strangenesses.”
Lanaya brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I see. Keep an eye on Felassan,” she said. “I’ll see what Keeper Dhaiveira thinks—it’s possible Felassan’s Clan is even more insular than his.”
Andoriel nodded. “I was already planning on it,” she said.
“He and Briala are guests of Orzammar, of course,” Zevran said. “They will be quite safe.”
“And the Empress?”
“Also safe.” Zevran pursed his lips. “Although, considering how things are going in Orlais in her absence, that might not be the best thing.”
Lanaya closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Chantry?” she said.
Zevran nodded. “We do not have all the news—the Nightingale has not contacted us for some months. But what we do have is not good.”
“And relations with the Divine have not improved?”
He shook his head. “Justinia no longer works on any model except a practical one,” he said. “And since the Lord Seeker would disapprove of an alliance with us, that leaves her in a tenuous position.”
“And us as well, then,” Lanaya said.
“And you as well.”
“We can speak of it with the other ambassadors and the Keepers,” Andoriel said. “We can hardly make any plans now.” she sighed. “I still have to write something up about those dratted Clans in the west...”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lanaya said as if she had just remembered. “I believe Keeper Adarian is near, but I don't think he's here yet.”
“I'll go find him,” Andoriel said. “Then I'll go keep an eye on Felassan and Briala.”
“Good idea.”
“So, you're Orlesian?” Ambassador Tabris was dark-eyed and dark-haired, and stared at Briala with an intensity that was startling.
“Is that a problem for you?” Briala asked, noting Tabris' Ferelden accent.
Ambassador Sarah, the Ansburg representative, chuckled. “Oh, she'd only have a problem if you were Tevinter,” she said, patting Tabris on the back.
“Wouldn't everyone?” muttered Ambassador Ile, a small man with short dark hair and a pair of spectacles. He was from Gwaren, and even with his spectacles, he had a habit of squinting at everything.
“True enough!” Ambassador Dysla said.
Briala couldn't help a small smile. “I suppose they would.” she glanced around at them. “What are your alliances with the Dalish like?”
“Oh, well they're stuffy and most of them act like they have a tree up their collective asses--” Ambassador Dysla said, before Sarah prodded her in the shoulder. “But they're good people. Why do you ask? Andoriel took you here, didn't she?”
“Well, yes,” Briala admitted. “But...well, we haven't had the best...relations with them.”
“What do you mean?” Ambassador Ile asked.
Briala shrugged. “When you get called 'flat-ear' by people you're asking for help, it hardly leaves the best impression.”
“Who called you that?” Ambassador Sarah asked, shocked. She looked around at the other ambassadors. “It couldn't be anyone here, could it? I'd have a word with whoever it was--”
Briala shook her head. “No—Felassan and I went to Clan Virnehn for help, and--”
“Oh, well there's your problem,” Ambassador Dysla said. “Andoriel told me all about them.”
“Wasn't that the Clan Andoriel had to get three other mages to deal with?” Ambassador Ile asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
“Yes, actually,” Briala said, blinking.
Ambassador Dysla nodded. “I was here when she came back for help. Apparently the Keeper is some kind of idiot? She was furious.”
“There's a different Keeper now,” Briala assured her.
“Well, that's only to the good, I'm sure.”
Briala continued speaking with the other ambassadors for some time, and found it to be a rewarding experience. Felassan, for his part, did not participate, instead merely observing.
After some time, Briala realized that she might be missed by Celene, and so she had to return. She and Felassan went back to Orzammar through the eluvian, Andoriel coming with them to prevent them losing their way. The Prince-Consort stayed at the meeting place to continue speaking with the other Coalition representatives.
Briala shook her head, still incredulous. “That was—very different than what I’d expected,” she said as they made their way through the crossroads.
“Very different from Clan Virnehn,” Felassan agreed. “I’m...impressed.”
“Is that so?” Andoriel asked. “Well, I’m glad we meet your approval.”
Felassan shrugged. “I have spent all my time in the western forests,” he said. “The Dalish there are not like the ones who make up the Coalition.”
Andoriel narrowed her eyes.
“Tell me,” she said. “Who is the clan of your birth? You’ve never mentioned a name.”
“You would not like to meet them, I am sure,” Felassan said.
“Why not?”
“My Clan does not believe quite the same things other Dalish do.”
“Well, if they named you ‘Felassan,’ that’s quite obvious,”
Briala frowned. She wasn’t quite certain what Andoriel was getting at, but Felassan seemed to be taking it in stride.
“Come, we will hardly cast you out,” Andoriel urged. “Who is your Clan?”
“Very far away,” Felassan said.
“Do you have a name? We might be able to find them.”
Felassan gave a strange smile and shook his head. “No. You would not.”
Andoriel tilted her head back. “You should return to the Empress when we arrive in Orzammar,” she told Briala. “You mentioned worrying that she might miss you?”
Briala blinked at the change of topic. “I suppose,” she said. “What of your meeting with Keeper Lanaya?”
“Oh, that went well enough,” Andoriel said. “I just needed to double-check a few things, and I had to find out where my Clan's keeper was.”
“She wasn't the Keeper of your Clan?”
“No. She's Clan Leanvunlas—my Clan is Panalanvinte, and my Keeper is Adarian.”
“Was he there?”
“No, but he'll likely be by tomorrow,” Andoriel said, shaking her head. “I even went back to the part of the Crossroads my Clan favors—he just had to take the time to go gallivanting off to look at some ruins.”
“A flighty sort, is he?” Felassan asked with a slight smile.
Andoriel laughed. “No, just doesn't see the need in arriving to things earlier when he could come later.”
When they returned to Orzammar, Andoriel and Felassan went their own ways. Briala looked for Celene, so she could ensure that she was not missed for too long. She found Celene and Michel in one of the rooms that Queen Aeducan had given them. Celene looked up from a book she was thumbing through.
“Where were you?” Celene asked.
“Exploring Orzammar,” Briala explained. “I may do that if I so choose. We are no longer in your Palace.” her stomach soured the longer she was there, and she found she couldn't abide being in Celene's presence for long.
Celene looked stricken. “I suppose that is true,” she said in a quiet voice.
Briala pursed her lips, and very deliberately turned her back on Celene. Celene watched her go, her expression unreadable.
Michel watched Briala leave as well, with a sour look on his face. “She is up to something, I am sure of it, My Lady.” he told Celene.
“Perhaps,” Celene said. She stood up and followed Briala.
“This meeting of the Dalish, where is it being held?” Celene asked, catching up with the darker woman.
Briala shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” she said.
“Why not?”
“They won’t ally with you. Andoriel even told you.”
Celene frowned. “They are foolish,” she said. “They would cling to half-remembered legends and stories, hiding out in their forests. They pay no heed to what happens now.”
Briala looked away, her jaw clenched. “I don’t know that you would know,” Briala said. “And they would not trust you in any case.”
“No?”
“Not when you burned one of your own cities.”
“Briala--”
“Say it was for your empire if you wish,” Briala snapped. “That does not change the fact of it.”
“No,” Celene sighed. “Perhaps it does not.”
“And what does Queen Aeducan think?”
“Excuse me?”
“What did Queen Aeducan think, of you burning Halam'shiral?”
“I did not feel that it was something I needed to tell her,” Celene said.
“Ah. Of course not.” Briala sneered and stalked away.
Once Andoriel was certain that Briala and Felassan were settled in Orzammar again, she returned to the Brecelian. There she met Keeper Lanaya, Keeper Dhaiveira, and the Prince-Consort. Dhaiveira was Keeper of Clan Eirethelu, a dark-haired man who was unique amidst the Keepers in that he wore no vallaslin.
The fact that Clan Eirethelu gave its members the choice to bear vallaslin rather than have it be mandatory was just one of the things that set them apart from other Dalish. Clan Eirethelu was a very curious Clan with very unique beliefs, and was generally disliked among the Coalition. However, they had come out of a self-imposed seclusion during the Blight to ally with the Wardens, and as such, they were considered an allegiant Clan.
“Ambassador Andoriel,” Dhaiveira said. He had a soft, deep voice, and an odd accent that resembled a backwater Ferelden one. “I am to understand you’ve come across a most unusual person.”
Andoriel inclined her head. “A man who calls himself Felassan,” she said. “He’s a strong link between the western Clans and the western Alienages—however he refuses to give a Clan name. I think it’s possible his Clan may align more with...your beliefs...than the majority of those of the Dalish.”
“Do you, perhaps, have a lost member?” Lanaya asked. “Dark hair, violet eyes, yellow vallaslin?”
Dhaiveira shook his head. “No one such as that,” he said. “I would have to meet him in order to form a judgment. Are you concerned about him?”
“Only in...a passing manner,” Lanaya said. “You must admit, anyone who goes by the name ‘Felassan’ among the Dalish is certainly an individual worth watching.”
“His demeanor is somewhat concerning,” Zevran pointed out.
“How so?” Dhaiveira asked.
“He claims to be from a Clan he refuses to name,” Zevran explained, and Dhaiveira raised his eyebrows. “And by all accounts, appears to have spent his life entirely as a mage or hunter in the forest. Yet his bears himself more carefully than Briala, who has long been in the midst of the Orlesian court.”
“That is rather odd,” Dhaiveira agreed. “But surely the way a man might carry himself if nothing to be suspicious of.” he frowned. “What concerns me is the lack of a Clan name.”
“We thought so as well,” Lanaya said. “He is quite happy to bring Briala to try and ally Halam'shiral with us, but refuses to put forward a Clan name of his own.”
Dhaiveira's expression grew darker. “So he encourages his friend to action while holding back on his own,” he said. “How strange.”
“Will you speak with him?” Lanaya asked.
Dhaiveira nodded. “I shall.”
The next time Briala and Felassan returned to the Brecelian, Keeper Dhaiveira sought Felassan out.
“I am Keeper Dhaiveira Eirethelu, of Clan Eirethelu,” Dhaiveira said.
“Ambassador Briala,” said Briala.
“Felassan,” Felassan inclined his head in greeting.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Dhaiveira nodded at Briala. “But I am here specifically to speak to you friend.”
“Felassan?” Felassan and Briala glanced at each other. “Why?” Briala's eyes narrowed.
Dhaiveira looked at Felassan. “I understand you have given no Clan name,” he said.
Felassan shrugged. “Most people would not like to meet my Clan.”
“And most would not like to meet mine either. However, my Clan is well-known to the Coalition, even if not well-liked.”
Felassan peered at Dhaiveira. “Why are they not liked?”
Dhaiveira tilted his head, examining Felassan with dark gray eyes. He touched his bare cheek. “I am surprised you did not notice before.”
“Oh.” Felassan blinked. “Yes, I suppose that would be unusual.”
“Does your Clan practice what mine does? Give the option?”
“...yes,” Felassan said after a moment.
“So I suspect your Clan and mine align in many beliefs. Tell me, Felassan, what does your Clan think of Fen’harel?”
“What does yours?”
“The Dread Wolf is a force like a storm. Not good, or bad. A neutral member in the pantheon of the Creators and the Forgotten Ones.”
Felassan considered that. “That is far more favorable than how most Dalish view him.”
“Indeed it is. That is one reason we are not well-regarded.”
“And other reasons?”
“Is that not enough?” he tilted his head to the other side, and his movements put one in mind of a bird. “Felassan. If you do not tell us your Clan name, we cannot ally with them.”
“And do you want to?”
“Of course.”
Felassan sighed. “I am afraid I still cannot grant your request,”
“Why is that?”
“I worry that they would not be safe, were they to be uncovered. I have not had contact with them in some time—I am not certain that they would approve of allying with you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I am here because Briala is here.”
Dhaiveira nodded, and his eyes slid to Briala. “I see. It is good you have such a loyal friend,” he told her.
“Thank you,” Briala said, her expression icy. “Did you need anything else?”
“Many members of my Clan have been quite valuable in going to cities hostile to the Dalish. Many other Clans do not like to admit it, but this practice,” he tapped his bare cheek again. “Is very useful. However, none of us speak Orlesian, which would be a great detriment. Would you or any of your people be willing to teach us?”
Briala blinked, softening somewhat. “I believe some would,” she said after a moment. “I can't organize anything like that at the moment, though.”
Dhaiveira nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Dareth shiral—I will see both of you at the meeting, I hope?”
“Yes, of course,” Briala said. Felassan merely nodded.
Dhaiveira left them then, and Briala turned to Felassan, who stared after Dhaiveira with a pensive expression.
“What was that about?” Briala asked.
“I believe our hosts may have some concerns about me,' he said.
“What did he mean, about Fen'harel? Why wouldn't people like his Clan?”
“His beliefs are very different from other Dalish beliefs,” Felassan explained. “Most Clans fear Fen'harel. To consider him neutral is...blasphemous.”
“And what about his vallaslin?”
“That was very strange, too,” Felassan said, narrowing his eyes. “I suppose his Clan doesn't require it. That, also, would be blasphemous by Dalish standards.”
“So why didn't you tell him your Clan name?” Briala frowned. “I don't even know your Clan name.”
“And I'll tell you the same thing I told him, da'len,” he said. “It would be dangerous for them.”
“Why?”
Felassan smiled. “No matter what the good Keeper thinks, my Clan is not like the other Dalish.”
Briala narrowed her eyes. “If you say so,” she said.