After many months, the peace talks between the warring factions of Orlais were finally coming up. Briala went ahead of them to Halam'shiral first, and Arethin would go with Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and Vivienne. Giuseppina would be there as well, but would arrive apart from the Alliance representatives.
Vivienne was disappointed to not bring Dorian along, but they all agreed that it made sense not to.
There was an eluvian in Halam'shiral, one carefully placed so as to avoid any attention. Briala and her people quite frequently used it, but it was not known to anyone outside of Briala's spy network.
They used the eluvian to get inside the city, and then moved to the Winter Palace.
Halam'shiral was a very strange feeling city. Many of the buildings were very new, in and almost overly-Orlesian style, as if trying to tell everyone that yes, Orlais owned this city, and not the elves. However, there were clearly older buildings there as well, and strange adjustments, and a great deal more trees than most other cities.
Halam'shiral was in much better shape than Val Royeaux had been, but that only made sense. It had never come under siege.
The Winter Palace was a huge monstrosity, a symphony in ostentatiousness. It was the kind of place Sera would have absolutely hated. There were brass statues everywhere, the walls were covered expensive blue paint, and there was the thick perfume of roses on the air. There were massive and ornate fountains every few feet, and everyone dressed in the most elaborate and ridiculous clothing Orlesian fashion had to offer.
Arethin was suddenly glad for the uniforms that the Alliance had decided on. She spotted mask after mask, stiff dress after stiff dress, waists narrowed with corsets and skirts that looked as heavy as a full set of armor, and she could only be grateful for her tall boots and sleek jacket.
They decided that Leliana could go inside first, to ensure that all was well. The others mingled in the large and ornate courtyard just inside the front gates, getting a first look at the other guests. All of the guests were human, not a dwarf or Vashoth among them, and Arethin was the only elf in formal dress. The other elves were all servants, but Arethin knew that they were Briala's people. Briala had spent the better part of the last year infiltrating the Winter Palace's ranks, and now everyone staffed there answered to her.
The guests murmured to each other, and what the group could hear was mostly gossip, nothing about the war or the Alliance presence.
Cassandra was already nervous, her fists clenched and her shoulders tense.
“Have you been to a great many parties like these?” Arethin asked.
Cassandra nodded. “Yes. Many times. I hate them.”
“Not so loud,” Josephine hissed. “Cassandra, you know you cannot be blunt with the Game!”
“Honestly, my dear, you would think you had never played,” Vivienne tutted.
“I would rather have never done so,” Cassandra muttered.
“Well, my dear, we hardly have a choice, do we?”
Leliana rejoined them.
“Elthina is here,” she hissed.
“What?” Arethin exclaimed.
“She decided to come herself—presumably she and Dubois have a plan.”
“What do we do?”
“I will keep a watch on Giuseppina,” Leliana said. “Briala's people have told us that there might be Venatori and Qunari agents here, so be on guard. For now, wait a few moments, then come in and follow me. Allow me time to scope the place out more thoroughly.”
Leliana left them again, and Arethin turned her attention to the crowd of guests and onlookers.
“Those must be the Alliance representatives,” Arethin heard someone murmur.
“Who's the elf?” was spoken loudly enough that it made Arethin scowl. “I see tattoos—a Dalish savage, really! What does the Alliance think they're playing at?”
Arethin's hand curled into a fist.
Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. “They are doing it on purpose,” she muttered. “They try to test what kind of player you are.”
Vivienne smirked. “My dear Lady Lavellan,” she said, her voice pitched so that nearby eavesdroppers could hear. “What magic have you been studying recently? I noticed that you had taken to spending a great deal of time in the company of apostates, it must be quite the unusual field of study.”
“Oh—it's a study of dream magic,” Arethin said, catching on. “I'm learning how to walk in and out of people's dreams. If you do it in the correct way, you might influence the dreams of others, turn them into good dreams or bad, and they would hardly notice.”
“Fascinating. Is such a thing very dangerous? In Montsimmard, we always considered such explorations to be too uncontrollable to be done safely.”
“Oh, no,” Arethin said. She smirked to herself. “Elves are very good at working with chaotic forces.”
“How marvelous!” Vivienne was smiling as well, pleased that Arethin had caught on so quickly. “So, presumably, if someone was particularly uncouth, you could walk into their dreams while they slept and they couldn't do a thing about it.”
“Exactly. And most human mages wouldn't know how to counter it at first—and anyone who wasn't a mage would have no idea where to start.”
They both laughed, and to her pleasure, Arethin realized the talk around them had fallen silent.
Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose. “I suppose terrifying the other guests is one way to establish yourself,” she muttered.
“Of course it is, my dear,” Vivienne murmured in her ear. “How else do I do anything?” with a pleasant smile, she held an arm out for Josephine. Josephine sighed and took it.
“You two should go in ahead of us,” Josephine instructed to Cassandra and Arethin. “It wouldn't do for you to go in alone,”
“Very well,” Arethin said, and held her arm out for a distinctly unhappy Cassandra. Cassandra was flushed with irritation, but she put her hand over Arethin's arm anyway.
“With luck, my friend, the party will be over soon and you will get to bash someone's head with your sword,” Arethin told her.
“If only.” Cassandra muttered.
They walked into a massive hall, shining with what seemed to be thousands of golden lights. The candlelight reflected off of shining brass statues and huge paintings, the marble floor inlaid with an elaborate design.
Cassandra gave a disgusted snort upon seeing it.
Leliana met them again at the entrance to the main ballroom.
“Leliana,” Cassandra sighed in relief. “Has anything else happened?”
Leliana shook her head. “Morrigan—the court enchanter—is not here yet,” she said with a slight frown. “One wing of the palace is closed off, and Briala's people are investigating. This way, the Empress will present herself soon.”
They went into the ballroom, which was just as well-decorated as the main hall, but even larger. Candle lights like tiny stars accentuated the room, and a scent of roses and jasmine drifted on the air. There were doors to balconies outside that were flung open, allowing the night breeze to waft through the hall.
Sunk in the center of the room was a vast floor, clearly for dancing or announcing people. It was to the side of this that they and the other guests gathered as the Empress prepared to make her entrance.
After several moments of waiting, the herald finally announced her. “Her Radiance, Empress Celene Valmont I!” the herald called out.
Celene came out of a side door, sweeping over the hall with an effortless elegance. She was a tall, ice-pale woman with blonde hair elaborately coiffed and braided at the back of her head. She wore a silken blue dress with silver embroidery that shimmered where it caught the light.
Only about half the crowd cheered. The other half said nothing. Arethin and Cassandra exchanged a worried look.
Beside Celene another woman appeared, a blonde in dark silk. Leliana leaned over to Arethin.
“That is Grand Duchess Florianne--Florianne is Gaspard's sister,” Leliana murmured in Arethin's ear. “When he was killed, there was some talk that Celene would have her executed as well.”
“But she didn't?” Arethin whispered back.
“No, she did not.”
“Why?”
Leliana shook her head. “I am uncertain. Celene says that she wants the family to redeem itself in her eyes, but that is not the real reason. There is some variety of power play at work here.”
Celene positioned herself above the sunken dancefloor, on the far end of the hall. Florianne stood several feet behind her.
“We will be presented soon,” Leliana hissed. “Be ready when the herald announces you.”
Arethin nodded. Vivienne and Josephine had caught up with them, and they all watched intently as the first of the guests was presented.
To everyone's discomfort, it was Elthina.
“Most Holy, Divine Themistoclea,” the herald called, and Elthina went down the steps to approach Celene. “Successor to Divine Justinia, holder of the Sunburst Throne.”
Elthina wore the vestments of the Divine, the long white habit and headdress. The crowd was unnervingly quiet, and although the masks hid most people's expressions, there was an undeniable sense of tension.
“Most Holy,” Celene greeted Elthina with a gracious smile. “What a pleasure to see you here, in this troubled time. I can only hope that your presence will inspire peace.” the tiniest emphasis was placed on peace, and a tide of whispers swept through the crowd.
“Of course, Your Radiance,” Elthina said pleasantly. “One only wants peace in times such as these.”
They looked at each other, each clearly expecting the other one to do something, and the silence stretched on. The whispers in the crowd grew louder.
“I believe Her Radiance dislikes what the Cleric has done,” Vivienne murmured in Arethin's ear. Arethin nodded.
At length, Elthina moved away, her face the picture of serenity. Celene, likewise, bore a pleasant expression. There was a moment of nervous quiet before the herald continued to read the list of introductions.
“General Madeline Dubois,” the herald called out, and surprisingly added no other title.
Dubois was a tall woman, who wore armor instead of a dress and, in a gesture utterly uncouth in the Orlesian court, she had no mask. She looked like she had walked in right off a battlefield. Her armor was polished to a shine and she wore a long red cape, and though she had a sheath for a sword at her hip, it was empty. In contrast to Celene's braided white-blonde hair, hers was an unbound mane of steel-gray, and a scar crossed her face.
“Welcome, General,” Celene said, her tone neutral.
“Thank you, and a fine evening,” Dubois grinned. She gave Celene a bow that was undeniably mocking, and sauntered off, ignoring the nobility that surrounded her.
“That is Dubois,” Leliana hissed.
“I still cannot believe they just...let her come here,” Josephine whispered, shaking her head.
“Peace talks would be conducted one way or another,” Vivienne murmured. “And in Orlais, all must be done in the correct fashion.”
“What about Giuseppina?” Arethin asked.
Leliana nodded towards the floor.
“Lady Giuseppina, cousin to her Radiance,” the herald announced.
Giuseppina, to her credit, held her head high as she crossed the ballroom floor, and looked only mildly uncomfortable in her long dress. She curtsied before Celene, who inclined her head.
“Welcome, cousin,” Celene said. “We did not expect you would be here.”
“Thank you,” Giuseppina said, her voice trembling slightly. “I—I thought I should come and give support in this troubled time.”
“We thank you, of course.”
Giuseppina curtsied again and she got off the floor as fast as she possibly could.
She came to join Arethin's group, and she was pale and sweating. Leliana patted her arm.
Now with was Arethin's turn. She walked down the steps, towards Celene, and smirked when, although she heard little gasps of surprise from the crowd, she heard no disparaging remarks about elves. Either Briala's people had gotten around, or word of her and Vivienne's conversation in the garden had.
“Lady Arethin Nadur Lavellan, the Mediator of the Alliance, vanquisher of the Breach--” the herald went on with a lot of other titles Arethin was fairly sure she didn't have, so she tuned them out.
Celene looked down at her, her expression impenetrable behind her shimmering golden mask.
“We bid you welcome, and welcome you to the court, Lady,” Celene said. “We hope that your calming influence will aid us in this tumultuous time, just as our cousin's.”
“Of course, your Radiance.”
Celene looked her up and down, eyes hovering on Arethin's tattoos. “Tell me, is the Winter Palace all that you had hoped?”
“It's...beyond what I could have imagined,” Arethin said.
She bowed to Celene, and retreated, joining her group back at the side. Cassandra was introduced, and snapped at the herald while he was in the middle of reciting her full name. Josephine winced.
Vivienne was introduced as 'Madame Vivienne de Fer, leader of the Loyal Mages of Thedas,' which pleased her greatly. Josephine was introduced as an ambassador, and Leliana was not introduced by the herald at all.
Finally, their introductions were done.
“What do we do now?” Arethin asked. “Should I speak with Dubois, or Celene? Where is Briala, do you know? And what of Elthina?”
“The Empress and the general are under the impression that the Alliance is neutral in this,” Leliana said. “It would be odd if you did not speak with them both at the moment. However, ensure that you speak to both.”
Arethin nodded. “And Briala?”
“She is here,” Leliana assured her. “Likely she will make contact with us in her own time.”
“Elthina?”
“She will be watching us, doubtless,” Vivienne said. “So we must keep an eye on her as well.”
“Of course,” Leliana said. “I do not believe she will try anything here, not when so many of our supporters are here, and the only way for her to regain power is to control the throne, but even so...”
“What about me?” Giuseppina asked.
“Stay close to us,” Leliana instructed. “Everyone else—you must learn more information.”
They all agreed, and Arethin went to go find General Dubois.
Dubois was busy inspecting the food, but not eating any of it. She grinned when she saw Arethin.
“Ah—Mediator,” she said, rolling Arethin's title in her mouth like it was something to be savored. “I quite enjoyed your work on the Breach. Very spectacular.”
Arethin blinked, for a moment not quite sure how to take this compliment. “Thank you, General.” she said at last, inclining her head.
Dubois leaned back against the table and folded her arms. “So, you and your people are here to watch?”
“We are.”
“Why?”
“You are one of our neighbors,” Arethin said with a shrug. “And the Inquisition part of the Alliance is worried.”
“What about you? I know the Dalish dislike Orlais. This place must sting.”
Arethin regarded her, now more curious. “You have Halam'shiral, we have Skyhold and Orzammar. It evens out in the end.”
“But you do not have Orzammar. The dwarven Queen sits upon that throne.”
“The Queen, who is married to one of us. The family tree is a bit complicated, but essentially, she's considered a cousin twice removed.”
Dubois blinked. “What is it that you hope to gain from being here?” she asked. “And don't bother with that Game nonsense. I haven't the time.”
Arethin appraised her for a long moment. “In the end, we wish for Orlais to be stable enough that we might continue with our own work,” she said. “The civil war is extremely concerning to all of our participating parties."
“Works, work...and what work would that be?” Dubois raised her eyebrows.
“Is what we do so very obscure?”
“Apart from that thing in the sky? I've hardly an idea what you people are up to in your mountains.” she chuckled. “I've heard the wildest rumors, of course, but I never trust simple rumors.”
“Rumors? Like what?”
“Mad things...that you escaped being crushed by an avalanche. That Madame de Fer's second in command is a runaway Tevinter magister. One of the old elf gods lives in your fortress, and the Dalish queen gave you a magic doorway that lets you go anywhere you want.”
Arethin let slip a laugh of her own. “There is no Dalish queen.”
“Ah, I see,” Dubois' look turned knowing. “So, which of these rumors is true?”
“I did escape an avalanche, one that destroyed Haven.”
“I heard that it was caused by some kind of...darkspawn creature,” Dubois' voice dropped to a hushed tone. “Something ancient and evil, who was behind the disappearance of the red Templars and the Wardens alike.”
“Do you have a name for this creature?”
“Since when do darkspawn have names?” Dubois asked.
“Most do not.”
“Hm.” Dubois gave her an appraising look. “All I know for certain is that you are tangling with the Venatori.”
“And what do you think of them?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tevinter cult nonsense. I haven't the time for it.”
“It's far from nonsense,” Arethin said. “The Venatori are very dangerous, and we need to stop them and their allies. Orlais being in turmoil only inhibits our goal.”
Dubois tilted her head to one side. “So, if pressed, who would the Alliance support as Empress?”
“Oh, well, that question differs from person to person,” Arethin said. “We have quite a great many Fereldens in the Alliance. Most of them would tell you to just put some scullery maid on the throne and have done with it.”
“And you?” Dubois narrowed her eyes. “What do you think?”
“You know about Dalish history, General,” Arethin said. “You should come to your own conclusions.”
Dubois' lips pressed into a thin line. “I see.”
To Arethin's surprise, she clapped her on the shoulder.
“I can't blame you,” she said. “I'd hate anyone who stole a city of mine, too.” she grinned.
“Yes, well, it is a fairly common complaint, isn't it?”
“Quite common, by the sounds of it.” Dubois looked over Arethin's shoulder. “One of your party is glaring daggers at me. The tall woman with black hair.” she smirked. “Afraid I'll steal you away, I'm sure.”
“Her face is always like that.”
“Or she's worried that the dastardly general will make off with her lovely elvhen escort,” Dubois winked at Arethin.
In spite of herself, Arethin flushed. She schooled her face into a neutral expression, however.
Dubois glanced over her head, and narrowed her eyes. “If you'll excuse me, Mediator, I believe I see someone else I should speak to.”
“Of course.”
Arethin watched Dubois leave, then went to speak to Celene.
Celene smiled to see her.
“Your Radiance,” Arethin said, bowing.
Celene inclined her head even so slightly. “I am quite pleased to see the Alliance here,” she said.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Perhaps you can help us with our...troubles.” Celene sighed and turned to the balcony. “You healed the sky. Perhaps you might also help to heal Orlais.”
“Perhaps.”
“I saw you spoke with the General.”
“I need to hear from everyone. That is why the Alliance is here—to hear everyone's side, and learn who is truly right.”
“I hope you choose wisely, then,” Celene said. “I saw that your company arrived with my cousin, Giuseppina. I was quite surprised to see her here.”
“She wished to come,” Arethin lied smoothly. “She is one of our allies within the Chantry on the Orlesian side of the mountains.”
“I see.” Celene nodded. “Do enjoy the ball, Mediator. We will see you when the talks begin.”
She smiled, and Arethin nodded and turned to leave.
She shuddered as she walked away. Both Dubois and Celene made her skin crawl, and made her ever more glad that they had chosen someone else entirely to lead. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Florianne sidle up to the Empress and watch Arethin's retreat.
Someone caught Arethin's gaze, and Arethin was surprised to see Briala, wearing a plain servant's shift and silver mask. Briala beckoned to her from the other side of the hall. Arethin moved to join her, not too quickly, lest she be noticed.
Despite Arethin's worries, no one seemed to notice Briala at all, the eyes of the elegantly masked and gowned nobles sliding right over the elf.
“Ambassador Briala, nice to see you here,” Arethin said.
Briala snorted. “If only it were as pleasant to be here,” she said. “Tell me, how often have you been mistaken for a servant?”
“Not often,” Arethin admitted. “The tattoos are a giveaway.”
Briala chuckled, and lead Arethin to a more secluded part of the palace.
“Have you seen anything interesting?” Arethin asked.
“There is a wing of the palace that is supposedly closed for renovation,” she said. “Even my people are having a hard time getting inside. That bodes poorly.”
“The servants?” Arethin frowned. “Wouldn't you be the ones to clean it and such?”
“Exactly,” Briala nodded. “But we have been blocked off, and only very specific construction crews have been allowed in.”
“What do you think it's closed for?”
“Who is to say? At this point, it is possible a rift has opened up, or someone has commandeered it for their own purposes. We are examining it.”
“Does either Celene or Dubois know you are with us?”
Briala smiled back. “They do not.” she shook her head. “For Dubois, it would be irrelevant. She feels she can succeed with martial strength, no matter the challenge. For Celene...she is not nearly so adept at the Game as she likes to think.”
“Oh?”
“For all that she knows her own people, the ways of those who are not courtiers are completely incomprehensible to her,” Briala's mouth twisted in revulsion. “She is convinced you Dalish are half-myths—she is worse than a child listening to a Hahren's stories in an Alienage. Even worse, she knows less about mages and magic. She is fascinated by even the most quaint of parlor tricks a mage can conjure.”
“Even with a court mage at her side?”
Briala's expression turned bitter. “Yes. She lays claim to the University, and to learning, but what she cannot control she does not care to truly learn.”
“Is there a way we can use any of it?”
“Perhaps you can use your magic and dazzle her into doing what you want, if someone else has not already done so,” Briala snorted. “No, there is little about her you can use to any real effect. She will just destroy it. That is what she does.”
“I sense bitterness here.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not particularly.” Arethin considered for a moment. “And Elthina? What of her?”
“She is possibly Dubois' ally, but it is most likely she is here for her own interests. Watch for her manipulations—Halamshiral is not a mire like Kirkwall, but a spider can spin a web anywhere.”
“What do your people think of her?”
Briala shrugged. “We know what she has done. None of us trust her. Fortunately, many of the courtiers are unlikely to trust her as well, after that business in Val Royeaux.”
“That's good for us, at least,” Arethin pointed out.
“Reasonably so. It pleases me that there are few Templars in Halamshiral.” Briala scowled up at a huge statue depicting Emperor Drakon. “Felassan calls Elvhenan more decadent and wasteful and ridiculous than Orlais could ever hope to be, but I am not sure.”
“Solas says the same thing, but considering the way they both dress, I am not really sure if they know what 'ostentatious' actually means.”
Briala chuckled, then sighed. “If only Felassan could be here,” she admitted. “I would feel better with him at my back.”
“Well, I am no thousand year old ancient elf, but I am here,” Arethin assured her. Briala smiled at her.
“You should get back to the ballroom,” she said. “They will miss you if you are gone too long. My people will keep searching, we will find some more information for you.”
“What of Morrigan? Is she here yet?”
Briala shook her head. “No. We're looking for her, as well.”
Briala left her, and Arethin wandered the Palace, listening for anything useful. She came across several gardens where there was a great deal of gossip, but nothing specific enough for her purposes.
The place made her stomach clench. She could imagine herself to be in Val Royeaux, but she always remembered in the back of her mind that it was Halam'shiral. Her people's home.
Most of the guests avoided her. To their credit, she was not mistaken for a servant, either accidentally or on purpose, and she heard no nasty comments about elves. She was never more thankful for Vivienne's ruthless approach to the Game. Making everyone afraid of her certainly spared her a great many uncomfortable conversations. She realized Vivienne must have had to develop a strategy to avoid similar insults about mages.
On a balcony, she looked out over the city. There were lights, more lights than she had ever seen at night before.
She wondered what the skyline looked like, before Orlais had conquered it. Were there trees? Huge vhenadahls that reached up towards the sky—or perhaps there were aravels, or something like aravels, rooted in place, red sails catching the breeze but never needing to move.
Did it look like how Elvhenan had looked? What were the libraries like? Were there huge walls to keep out unwanted visitors, or perhaps it was all open, all the way to the Graves?
She didn't know. There were some pictures of how Halam'shiral had looked, faded drawings, but it was so long ago that no one could remember for certain. A somniari might get an impression, but it would only be memories, nothing sure.
She clenched the railing of the balcony tightly.
She'd make it right. She could fix the sky. She, an elf of the People, had made friends with the Dread Wolf. She could do anything.
This place would belong to her people again. She knew it.
“Lady Lavellan?”
She turned around, surprised. General Dubois stood behind her.
“General,” she said, looking at her with some wariness that she was careful not to show in her face. “How nice to see you again.”
Dubois held out a hand.
“Come, Mediator,” Dubois said. “Share a dance with me.” it was barely a request, more of a statement than anything.
“Do you enjoy dancing?” Arethin asked, eyeing the woman's heavy armor.
“No, but this makes Seeker Pentaghast jealous. It will be funny.”
Arethin regarded her with a flat stare. “I hardly see how that's in my best interest, or very likely.”
“Ah, you cannot see what is in front of you!” Dubois leaned in close, her face schooled into a flirtatious smile. “I have something for you. The walls have ears.” her tone was deadly serious.
Arethin's eyelids flickered. “How can I possibly resist such a charming request?” she drawled.
Dubois snorted. “Charming? That's the last thing I'd be expected to be called.”
“If this is all just to share a dance, I will be mildly disappointed,” Arethin said, and took her hand.
“Well,” Dubois said, taking them back to the ballroom. “I will not be.”
They went to the dancefloor and Dubois began to lead in a dance.
“There are Venatori here,” Dubois murmured, pulling Arethin close to her.
“Are there indeed?”
Of course there were. Leliana knew that, but why was Dubois interested now?
“Yes, the filthy Vint bastards thought now would be a good time to set up shop. I think one of the nobility is on their side—I'd bet on Florianne.”
“Why her, of all people?”
“She isn't on Celene's side, or my side, and definitely not on your side. She's always had a bit of a—romantic conqueror streak about her, you would say.”
“How do you know? You're no noble.”
“No, but I pay attention.”
“And that gets you so many places.”
“it does indeed. And there's something here worse than Venatori,” Dubois murmured in Arethin's ear. “Qunari.”
Arethin's pulse pounded in her ears. They had so hoped that wouldn't be the case. “You don't say?”
“Oh, I do say. Very, very recent. None of the big ones—I think perhaps a Viddethari or a Ben-hassrath, but an elf one.”
“Quite a serious accusation.”
She would need to let Briala know. If the Ben-hassrath was an elf--
“Of course it is.”
“And if the Qunari were here, why would they be here?” she asked. “What would be the point?”
“I think they're just watching.” Dubois said. She put an arm under Arethin's back and bent her over, then pulled her up. “I don't know what they want. They're probably here to conquer us, but why they're waiting is beyond me.”
“And why tell me this?”
“I want to see what you'll do.” she smirked. “How would you like an army to lend to your cause, Mediator?”
“We already have one.”
“And a god, by the sounds of it.”
“Now,” Arethin raised her eyebrows as the song finished. “You know you cannot trust rumors, General.”
Dubois let go of her, and they bowed and parted ways.
Arethin met back up with her group. Cassandra was looking sour, but Leliana and Josephine seemed very interested. Josephine fidgeted, glancing around and tapping her feet.
“What did Dubois say?” Leliana asked.
Arethin frowned, troubled. “She said Florianne was up to something—she isn't on Dubois' side, our side, or Celene's.”
Leliana nodded. “I suspected so. Anything else?”
“There are Qunari agents here—she doesn't know why, and she couldn't tell me who.”
Leliana and Josephine and Cassandra all looked at each other, worried.
“She said that the one they found was an elf, a Viddethari or Ben-hassrath,” Arethin said. “She thought it was a worse problem than the Venatori.”
“It could be,” Josephine said. “Briala hasn't mentioned...”
“She may not know,” Cassandra said. “if her people are compromised in some way, it is possible that she never knew in the first place.”
“If the Qunari have reached this far--” Arethin cut herself off, and everyone looked troubled.
“We must speak with Briala,” Leliana decided, rubbing her forehead. “It is not surprising that the Qunari are here. Elthina is, after all.”
“No, I know that,” Arethin said. “I simply—I thought we might have more time.”
“We can't do anything about Florianne now,” Josephine said, glancing around. “Briala's people will look out for her.”
"Then what do we do?” Cassandra asked. “We must take care of the Venatori, of course--”
Leliana nodded. “We will try and get into the wing that has been sealed off,” she said. “Doubtless that has something to do with this.”
“What can we do about the Qunari?” Arethin asked. “Dubois said they were just here to watch, but she didn't know for sure.”
“If they are here to watch, then so must we,” Vivienne said. “In any case, I believe we are overlooking a more pressing concern. Why would she even tell this to you?” Vivienne asked.
“To curry favor, perhaps?” Cassandra said. "Perhaps Elthina is not giving her what she wishes."
Arethin nodded. “I think that's the case,” she said in agreement.
“She must think very highly of our chances,” Vivienne said. “Or believe our influence is very great.” her brow was knitted, and she frowned slightly.
“Or, she knows what we plan to do,” Josephine said. “And wishes to undermine us.”
“She would be a terrible Empress,” Vivienne said. “We cannot support her.”
“No one was going to, Vivienne,” Arethin said. “We should investigate a bit further.”
Leliana nodded. “My people and Briala's will coordinate,” she said. “We will learn of what is happening.”
“And what do we do for now?” Cassandra asked.
“Blend in.”
Cassandra sighed. “Very well.” the group went their separate ways, Arethin falling in beside Cassandra.
“Do you know something else Dubois told me?” Arethin said. “It was very strange.”
“What was it?” Cassandra frowned at her, confused.
“She said that she wanted to dance with me to—make you jealous,” heat rose to her face. “It was ridiculous, but I don't know why she'd say it. To wrong-foot me, maybe, or--” she blinked at Cassandra, whose golden skin was flushed a very deep pink. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” Cassandra growled.
Arethin shook her head. “She said things like that earlier, too,” she said with a frown. “I don't know why, it seemed so odd.”
Cassandra nodded jerkily. “Yes, odd. Of course.” she glanced around. “Oh, Maker,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Come—Leliana said to blend. People are watching us. We must play their foolish game,” she gritted her teeth. “A bit longer.”
Arethin sighed. “Well—come, we can speak on the dancefloor,” she reached out and tugged Cassandra's wrist.
Cassandra flushed. “I—this is not the time--”
“Of course it is. I do not want to have to speak with any of these people, and we cannot vanish without being noticed.”
“I—suppose,” Cassandra said, still very red.
“Oh, come now, dancing with me cannot be so horrid,” Arethin rolled her eyes.
“No!” Cassandra said. “No, not at all,”
“Then come. For at least a song or two.”
“I detest dancing,” Cassandra informed her.
“And I have never danced in a ballroom before.”
“You danced with Dubois.”
“What does she matter?”
Cassandra's eyelids flickered. “We cannot afford to be distracted...”
“Nor can we afford to be examined too closely.”
Cassandra sighed and took Arethin's hand, but a tiny, pleased smile touched her lips.
They spun across the dancefloor, the crowd melting into nothing as Arethin took the lead. The music poured into Arethin's bones, and all she could see was Cassandra's face.
“You are good at this,” Cassandra murmured.
“I suppose I am. So are you.”
“Long practice.”
“is that so?”
Cassandra nodded. “I have had to deal with such nonsense before I was a Seeker, and more when I was younger,” she said.
“I see where that would have been a problem for you.”
The song came to a close, and quite suddenly, Cassandra pulled Arethin into a deep kiss.
Arethin was startled, but not displeased. She relaxed, and pulled Cassandra closer to her.
After they finally came up for air, Arethin laughed breathlessly. “My, my,” she said. “You know, I wasn't really expecting that.”
Cassandra blushed, and made to pull away, but didn't. “I—that was—unprofessional,” she said, flushing scarlet.
“If I might remind you, you started it.”
“I—I apologize,” she said, pulling away at last. “I should not have--”
“Cassandra.”
Cassandra glanced at her.
Arethin's mind felt like a thunderstorm, her heart threatening to pound its way out of her chest.
She could still taste Cassandra on her lips, and it made her feel lightheaded, made her feel like champagne ran through her veins. She wanted to laugh, and hold Cassandra's hand, but she didn't do any of those things.
“...we should get back to work.” she managed at length.
“I suppose we should,” Cassandra sighed.
They parted, and Arethin retreated to the front antechamber, her heart still pounding.