Chapter Twenty Two: On Blacken'd Wings

Arethin watched the crowd from the sidelines, fascinated by the various clothes and masks, and trying to listen for anything useful.

A woman without a mask came walking down the steps, resplendent in purple silk.

“Well, well well,” she said, locking eyes with Arethin. “What have we here?”

“I really couldn't say,” Arethin said. “What do you mean?”

“A member of the Alliance here and overseeing the festivities—how curious,” the woman's golden eyes flashed and a smirk played about her lips.

“Is it?”

“Is it not?” the woman tilted her head to one side. “I am Morrigan. I believe your Nightingale has been searching for me.”

“Ah, you are Morrigan,” Arethin nodded. “Yes, Leliana has been looking. Are you friends? She was rather vague about it.”

“Friends? That is far too familiar a term. We had a working relationship, I believe. I understand I might have information useful for your Alliance.”

“It's possible. If you know where Su—”

“Shh,” Morrigan said softly. “You know these walls have ears.”

“We might speak on the dancefloor, if you wish.”

“As far as I understand, that is your favorite method of interacting with the court ladies,” Morrigan said.

“Is there one you prefer?”

“Alas, no. I have business elsewhere. You might want to investigate the wing of the Palace that has been closed off, however.”

“Yes, we know. We are looking.”

“Then go. I shall find your Nightingale, and then we shall talk.”

Arethin watched Morrigan leave, feeling somewhat discomfited. Briala hurried to Arethin's side.

“What is it?” Arethin asked.

“A rift in the closed wing opened,” she hissed in Arethin's ear.

“A rift?” Arethin blinked, and her mark shuddered. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, and there had been nothing there before,” Briala whispered. “It's the Venatori, making their move. You must close it!”

Arethin nodded, and Briala pressed a key into her hand. “I'll get Cassandra and Vivienne. We'll take care of it.”

She gathered her companions, and they hurried to the locked wing. In contrast to the main hall, the locked wing was dark and cold, dusty and abandoned.

“No one has been here in quite some time,” Vivienne observed.

“If the rift only appeared now, why would the wing have been closed off before?” Cassandra asked with a frown.

“Perhaps it was already unstable,” Arethin suggested.

“That is possible,” Vivienne said with a slight frown.

“Do you think something else happened?”

“Perhaps the Venatori have been using this place for their own reasons,” Vivienne suggested.

“Under Celene's nose?” Cassandra asked.

“If Florianne has been working against her, it is entirely possible—Celene will have been busy with the civil war, too busy to investigate everything her courtiers have been doing.”

They investigated the dark wing, until Arethin felt the nearby rift.

They opened a door into a small courtyard, where a rift bubbled and spat, smelling of violets and lemons.

On a balcony opposite them, Florianne stood, flanked by mercenaries and Venatori.

“I see the great Mediator has come,” Florianne said.

"What are you doing here?” Arethin asked.

“Oh—simply ensuring that my master has your hand,” she said with a smirk. “Perhaps your Alliance has those who would claim godhood, but my master will be a god, not a pretender.”

Arethin walked around the rift, watching Florianne all the while. It was possible she could use the rift to her advantage, but only if she was careful.

“And your master is Corypheus?” she asked.

“Of course,” Florianne gave a tinkling laugh and tossed her head.

“What could you possibly have to gain by joining him?” Cassandra demanded. “All will be crushed underneath him!”

Florianne scoffed. “You would hardly understand,” she said. “This world is crumbling—the civil war alone proves that. Why stay on a sinking ship, like a trapped rat, when one could have a place of honor in his new world?”

Arethin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “He is a darkspawn,” she growled, annoyed. “A diseased, rotting darkspawn. He toys with powers that are not his and claims to command them.”

“And I suppose your knife-ear friends know how they work?” Florianne tutted. “I know you and your little allies have been at artifacts you have no business playing with. You elves really do get above your station sometimes.”

Arethin raised her eyebrows. “Our station?” she said, anger lacing her voice. “Your people cannot even use our things without becoming ill!”

“Best not ague, Mediator,” they looked to see General Dubois emerge from a side door. “Nobles never have an ounce of sense in their heads.”

“Dubois,” Florianne sighed.

“Florianne,” Dubois said as she strode forward. “I thought you would be up to something. You noble types—so sneaky.”

Florianne rolled her eyes. “And here you are as well,” she said. “First the knife-ear, then the brute—what is the court coming to that you lot can be let in?”

Dubois raised her sword.

“Take care of the rift,” She instructed Arethin. “I'll take care of her.”

Arethin grabbed the edges of the rift and pulled them closed, as Florianne shrieked for her mercenaries to attack. Vivienne was immediately at Arethin's back, drawing a sword from thin air.

Dubois charged for Florianne, who tried to run. Dubois cornered her and Florianne pulled a long, wicked blade that gleamed with a red lyrium edge.

The rift began to close, and Arethin yanked at it, sending everyone on the battlefield to the ground with a magical shockwave.

“Lavellan!” Cassandra snapped, trying to get to her feet.

“It hardly adjusts for friendly fire!” Arethin yelled over her shoulder.

“Stop toying with it, then!”

Arethin rolled her eyes as Cassandra locked swords with one of the Venatori. Apparently no one had seen fit to give Florianne any mages, so Vivienne was the only one on the battlefield. A mercenary approached Arethin as she sewed the Breach together, and Vivienne sent him hurtling into the air and crashing back down again.

“Hurry, Lavellan,” Vivienne said, sending a bolt of fire into another mercenary. “Our time grows short.”

Meanwhile, Florianne and Dubois battled on the other side of the garden. Dubois took care to try and avoid the red-glowing blade.

“Red lyrium?' she demanded of Florianne. “Are you really so hard-up for an advantage?”

Florianne swung the blade at her, and grinned when Dubois stepped out of the way. 'It's working, isn't it?”

The rift finally healed, and with a crack, Arethin pulled her hand down. She stalked across the battlefield as Cassandra and Vivienne cut down the last of the mercenaries.

“No,” Florianne hissed, glancing her way.

“You will both stop,” Arethin said. “We have not the time for this.” She pointed at Florianne, and a frost spell made the duchess stop dead in her tracks.

“Me?” Dubois pressed a hand to her chest. “What did I do?”

“Plunging all of Orlais into civil war is not a crime, in your eyes?” Cassandra demanded, coming up behind Arethin.

“You'd want to hand the empire over to that insipid madwoman?” Dubois demanded. “Not a year ago she lit this very city on fire! A few well-placed hangings would have done the trick, but no, apparently the woman who so cares for knowledge and learning decided that arson would be the way to go.”

“Don't pretend you did this for the good of the empire,” Florianne hissed. She twitched, trying to break through the spell. “Animal brute—this is all for your own gain.”

Dubois nodded. “Very true. And your joining with that darkspawn monster...isn't, somehow?”

Florianne managed a smirk. “My gain is more important than yours,” she said, and the ice spell shattered. She lunged forward, her blade out, and Dubois, surprised, couldn't get her guard up in time.

The blade drove through Dubois, and she choked, surprised.

“You--” she gasped. “You--”

Florianne only smiled.

Arethin sent the two flying apart with a spell, and winced when the blade wrenched out of Dubois' abdomen. The Duchess fell to the ground, but quickly recovered, and was on her feet in a flash, dashing in the opposite direction.

“After her!” Arethin said, taking chase. Cassandra and Vivienne were on her heels in an instant, leaving Dubois lying on the ground in a steadily spreading pool of blood.

Florianne was very fast, and they couldn't get ahead of her. She lead them throughout the wing, dodging both Vivienne and Arethin's spells. Finally, she burst through a set of double doors, into the main ballroom, to gasps and shrieks from the guests. She looked around and bolted towards Celene.

She grabbed the Empress around the middle, and Florianne held the knife up to Celene's throat.

Arethin and her companions stopped cold.

Florianne smirked. “There,” she said. “Either you let me go, or she dies. Then where's your empire?”

Arethin readied a spell, as did Vivienne, but it was Briala who sprung into action first.

“So?” she said. “What care have we?”

Celene's eyes were huge and frightened as they were riveted on Briala.

“Bria--” she whispered.

“Briala--” Arethin hissed, but Briala shook her head.

“Why should we care what happens to her?” Briala demanded of Florianne. “She is as a mad king, an insane general. The same as you and your master, only for different reasons.”

Florianne bared her teeth.

“It's no use bluffing, rattus,” she hissed. “I know you're the Empress' pet knife-ear.”

Briala shrugged. “And you are grasping for power after your brother has been slain by her,” she nodded at Celene. “So?”

Florianne narrowed her eyes. Briala looked at her steadily. Florianne's gaze caught the soldiers advancing on her, and backed up several steps.

“Bria--” Celene whispered.

“Go on, Duchess,” Briala taunted. “Are you going to do it?”

Florianne's face was white with rage.

“Are you too weak?” Briala said, smirking. “Or do you not want to let go of your only advantage?”

They circled Florianne, and the duchess' eyes darted from one of them to the other. She could not kill Celene and escape, and the Venatori were at a distinct disadvantage.

Wherever the Qunari agent was, they were certainly not on Florianne's side.

“Then, in exchange for your Empress, I shall leave,” Florianne said.

“I don't think so,” Briala shook her head.

“Do you really think you'd leave here alive?” Cassandra scoffed.

“You got yourself into this mess, Duchess,” Leliana taunted. “There is only one way out of it.”

Florianne looked between them again, then suddenly, drew her blade across Celene's throat and dropped her, turning to run.

A dagger slid from Briala's sleeve into her palm and she threw it, catching the older woman in the back. Florianne cried out and sprawled over the marble floor, blood already staining her dress.

Alliance soldiers surrounded Florianne, who seemed to be quickly bleeding out. They turned their attention to Celene, who was rapidly turning white as more blood spilled out of her.

“Should we call for a healer?” Cassandra asked, kneeling down next to the woman. She covered Celene's wound with her hands, but she shared a look with Arethin, who shook her head. The wound was so deep that even with the aid of a healer, it was not likely Celene would survive.

Briala pressed her lips together, and went down on a knee next to Celene.

Celene's expression was hazy, but her eyes caught Briala's. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Briala looked down at her, her expression utterly pitiless. “I do not think the Empress is worth our consideration any longer,” she said softly, not breaking eye contact with Celene. “What do you think, Lady Lavellan?”

Celene's eyes rolled up, and an awful rattle emerged from her mouth.

“The wound was too severe,” Arethin said. “Even a good healer would have trouble—there's nothing we can do here.”

“Then—there is nothing to be done,” Josephine said.

Cassandra removed her hands, wiping the blood off on her trousers.

The room was silent for a moment, then soon filled with shrieks of horror and panic.

“What do we do now?” Cassandra asked.

Arethin's head pounded. “Quiet!” she bellowed, using a quick amplification spell to make her voice heard. The crowd went quiet.

“Where is Giuseppina?” Arethin asked Cassandra in a softer voice.

“Here,” Giuseppina came out from behind Leliana. “I'm here.”

“There we are then,” Arethin said. “You're the empress now.”

The crowd rumbled, the nobles muttering amongst themselves.

Giuseppina stared at her.

“Say something, before the crowd grows even more restless!” Arethin snapped.

Giuseppina turned to the crowd. “Is there—is there any other member of Celene's family still alive?” she called out.

No one spoke up.

“Then—then because she is dead, I am empress,” she said, her voice cracking on 'empress.'

“No,” a voice rang out, and Elthina strode over. “You are no Empress.”

Giuseppina looked very cold all of a sudden, eyes blazing with hate.

You,” she snarled. “Pretender,” her voice was resplendent with an alien coldness. “You would dare dictate to me?”

Elthina was shocked, taken aback. “I--”

“You killed our Most Holy, Divine Justinia!” she pointed an accusing finger at Elthina. “You dared claim the throne! How dare you show your face to me?”

“I did only what was needed,” Elthina said calmly.

“No,” Giuseppina snapped. “You did not. I—I am Empress—at my side is Andraste's Herald, who you would have killed time and time again, as you did the Most Holy.”

“No elf is our Herald,” Elthina said, her voice growing more heated.

“And no true Divine would kill the one before her!”

“Murderer!” came a shout from the crowd.

“No—that is the Most Holy!” someone else called out.

The crowd began to descend into fighting, people arguing over Elthina's status. Giuseppina looked to Arethin, worried, and Arethin sighed.

“Enough!” she bellowed, voice amplified again. The room fell silent. “Celene is dead. Dubois is dead. Florianne is dead. What will you do next?”

The Templars that Elthina had brought with her began to make themselves known, and likewise so did the Alliance forces.

“I dictate terms here, not any of you,” Elthina said, Templars flanking her.

“I do not think so,” Leliana said.

Alliance soldiers surrounded the Templars.

“What shall it be?” Arethin asked. “Will you turn this into a fight?”

“You need not,” Giuseppina said.

“Of course not,” Elthina said. “I am the Divine—thus I alone decide who has the throne. You, my child, do not.”

“Why?” Giuseppina asked. “Why are you the Divine? You brought the Maker's wrath when you killed the Most Holy. A tear in the sky—healed by the Herald, while your Templars went mad and lost their way.”

Elthina's face twitched. “You are the ones who would tear apart Thedas in your scramble for power,” she said. “This elf, this mage, has let the other mages loose, set heretics and sorcerers into positions of power--”

“If you had the blessing of the Maker, none of it would have happened.”

The room fell silent, and again the nobles looked at each other, worried.

“It was your Templars—your Lord Seeker—who invaded Val Royeaux,” Giuseppina declared. “You are no Divine. You are a bloody-handed murderer.” she looked to the guards, the soldiers positioned around the room. “So what shall it be?” she said. “What shall we do with a murderer of Divines?” she looked back at Elthina. “I say, she is to be taken away,” she said. “And locked in the lowest dungeon we can find for her.”

“You cannot do this!” Elthina shouted. “I am the blessed of the Maker!”

“Divine-killer!” Giuseppina accused. She waved a hand, and the guards dragged Elthina off through the crowd.

Giuseppina turned to the crowd.

“Now,” she said. “We must decide what to do next.” Giuseppina declared. “Please—let us be calm about this. Let us take care, for too little care has been taken.”

The crowd calmed enough for everything to be cleaned up. Leliana kept Briala close by her side, and the bodies of Celene and Florianne were taken away.

Dubois was still alive, not dead as Arethin had guessed. However her life was hanging by a bare thread. The red lyrium on the knife Florianne wielded made the chance of infection very possible, and Dubois had not regained consciousness yet. She was transported to a house of healing, outside the palace, under guard.

“If she wakes up, she shall not be safe,” Arethin said. “She still has the military.”

“I—perhaps we can change that,” Giuseppina said. “That is what we're here for, after all.”

“Maybe,” Arethin said, chewing her lip.

“Come,” Giuseppina said. “We are all exhausted. The danger has passed. Let us rest and recover, and then I shall speak to the people.”

Once several hours had passed, it was very late, almost dawn, and the nervous nobles gathered together in the ballroom once more, so Giuseppina could speak to them.

Giuseppina stepped forward. She looked around. “I am the last of Celene's family,” she declared. “You know me. I have not been at court, for the Maker has guided me to a different path.” she did not have the fire she had when facing Elthina, but her voice was strong enough.

The crowd muttered amongst itself, and Giuseppina raised her voice.

“I—I have seen what has been wrought from such terrible a war,” Giuseppina said, looking out over the crowd. “Celene, dead. Her would-be usurpers—all dead, except for Dubois, who is near death. Our fair city of Val Royeaux, burning—the Winter Palace, despoiled. This cannot continue. No more will war tear our country in two. We will cast our allegiance to those who have helped us repair our broken country—the Southern Alliance, and Lady Lavellan, without whom the world would be lost.”

“Is she the Herald, as the Inquisition claimed?” asked one noble woman.

“I have seen nothing that says she is not,” Giuseppina said. “A woman sent to us in time of darkest need, who has defeated many great evils—who but the Maker could send such a woman?”

“Who indeed?” Arethin muttered, her lip curled.

“So, we will no longer have war,” Giuseppina said, her voice gaining strength. “We will no longer fight amongst ourselves, do you hear? I will have no more of death and destruction. The man who slays is brother is lost—so what does that make our country, where brother has killed countless brother?”

There was more talk among the crowd, but no one else dared to speak out.

“I will have no more of this. No more games, no more idleness, no more excesses and mortal weakness,” Giuseppina was gaining speed now, and Arethin exchanged a look with her companions. “If the Maker has sent a messenger, it is because we are in need of one. So—I will take our country in hand. We will come back to the Maker once more—no more tearing at ourselves and our neighbors, no more self-destruction.” she turned to Arethin. “What would you have me do, Lady Lavellan?” Giuseppina asked. “For you are the Herald of Andraste. You are the hand that guides the world, the messenger from the heavens. You are our light in time of need. So—what would you ask of me?”

Giuseppina had a fire in her eyes that was a little startling.

“Well--” Arethin started, glancing around at her companions, who all gave shrugs. “I...

“We owe you a debt that can never be repaid, Herald.”

Arethin shook her head, thinking. “I am of the Dalish people,” Arethin said after a long moment of silence. “And the Alliance has taken much aid from the Dalish and their allies. Without them, we would not be here. Without the Dalish, I would not be here.”

The crowd began to mutter to itself, but Giuseppina continued to wait patiently.

“If you truly believe me to be sent by your—by the Maker,” Arethin said. “Then consider why the Maker has sent a Dalish elf. Does he remember the promise Andraste made to Shartan, when She drove the Tevinters away? I am sure He does. And I am sure He remembers the great wrong done to my people, many years ago.”

Giuseppina's eyes were very wide, and Arethin saw that she understood. Briala's back straightened, and Arethin saw several of Briala's people push their way to the forefront of the crowd.

“I ask that you right this wrong, Empress,” Arethin said. “You return the lands stolen from us. This city is our city, our journey's end. These lands are our lands, given by Andraste's hand. If you will have peace, you will undo the wrong that has been dealt us.”

Giuseppina considered, and the crowd waited with baited breath.

“I have read the Chant many times,” she said. “And I know the wrong of which you speak. Shartan aided Our Lady in her quest, and we let our own petty grievances obscure that. The wounds of Red Crossing and the war between my people and yours has been paid for in elvhen blood a hundred times over. You, my Lady, have given our world new light and new hope, and the Maker cannot have sent you to us without reason.” she nodded. “I will return Halam'shiral to you, Lady Lavellan. These lands of the Dales will be your own again.”

The crowd burst into absolute chaos.

Briala stared, openmouthed, and though Giuseppina tried to quiet the crowd, they refused to be silent.

Arethin registered insults, horrorstruck outcries, at least one man shouting about his mansion in the Dales, and more insults before Giuseppina could finally restore order.

“The Lady has spoken!” Giuseppina called. “And shame on you, for defying her will!”

“She is no Herald of Andraste!” another noble woman spoke up. “A knife-eared witch--! This is an Alliance plot, a Dalish plot--”

Giuseppina narrowed her eyes. “I will hear no such thing spoken against her,” she said. “Because of her, the sky has healed. Because of you—because of us—the Chantry devoured itself and our country was split in two.” she gestured to a guard, and the guard grabbed the noble woman. “If you speak against the Herald, you speak against me,” she said. “Is that what you wish?”

“You are no empress!” another man exclaimed. Giuseppina pointed, and a guard seized him as well.

“Swear your fealty,” Giuseppina said. “Or you will regret it.”

A sword was drawn. Pressed to the man's throat.

He raised his hands. “Your Radiance,” he whispered.

Giuseppina smiled. “There. Better. Now we shall do as I say, and our country will prosper. Or, you can do as my would-be predecessors would have done, and lead us to destruction. The choice is, of course, yours. An Empress lives only to serve her people.” she inclined her head, and turned her back on the crowd, indicating her speech was over.

Arethin went over to her immediately.

“Giuseppina, I don't want--”

“It is alright, Herald,” Giuseppina said. “Your will shall be done.”

“But I--”

“Sometimes people must be shown the proper way to do things,” Giuseppina said, her eyes gleaming. “Such as the way it always is.”

Giuseppina left, and Cassandra and the others came over.

“I do not know that this will end well,” Arethin fretted.

“I fear you might be correct,” Cassandra said.

“Giuseppina could hardly be any worse than our other options,” Leliana said, glancing at Cassandra.

“Very true.”

“A masterful display,” came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see Morrigan approaching from the shadows.

“Is that so?” Arethin asked.

“Of course. You are the first Dalish who has gotten any Orlesian leader to do what you want in hundreds of years.” she smiled. “Be glad.”

“Indeed,” Arethin said, inclining her head. “What is it that you wish of us?”

“I wish to join your Alliance,” Morrigan said. “I have watched you, and I am impressed.”

“Would Surana be joining us too?” Leliana asked.

Morrigan tilted her head back. “Yes. Would that be a problem?” her tone was icy, and Arethin shot a look at Leliana.

“No, that would be...that would be fine, thank you,” Arethin said. “We would greatly appreciate it.”

Morrigan smiled again. “Then shall we join your party to return to Skyhold? I am aware of your use of eluvians.”

“It won't be comfortable for you,” Arethin warned.

“I am elf-blooded. I shall be fine.”

“Oh. Then, very well, if you wish.” she paused. “Although I do want to know more about why you know about eluvians."

Morrigan inclined her head. “Of course. Simply inform me when we shall be leaving.”

“Of course.”

Arethin sighed and rubbed her face. She was exhausted, but they couldn't leave yet. They had to finalize things with Giuseppina first.

Giuseppina immediately drew up some writs about the Dales to give to Arethin. Giuseppina actually consulted some older maps of Orlais and the former borders of the Dales, to work out what lands in particular to return.

“Many of my people will dislike this,” Giuseppina warned. “I fear you will have much trouble from those too stubborn to obey. I will do my best to alleviate this, Herald.”

“Thank you, Empress,” Arethin said.

“My Lady, anything I could do would not be enough,” Giuseppina said, her tone very serious.

“Thank you again. This will mean...a very great deal to my people.”

“I thought it would. I am sorry that I cannot remove the nobles from Halam'shiral at once—it will take some time.”

“I understand,” Arethin said. “If it would help, we could wait to send our own people in--”

“Give us a month,” she decided. “Then you may come in and do as you please. Otherwise it may become rather crowded.”

“Absolutely. Thank you again, Empress. We will be holding you to this agreement, of course.”

“Of course.”

At last, they left for the eluvian, all utterly exhausted. At the gates, Morrigan and two others met them.

In Morrigan's company were a young boy and a tall, thin elvhen woman in armor.

“Surana!” Leliana exclaimed.

“Hey, Leliana,” Surana said, her tone slightly cold. She turned to Arethin, ignoring Leliana completely. “I heard you got the Empress to give the Dales back to you. Neat trick.”

“Thank you,” Arethin said. “You wish to come with us as well?”

Surana nodded. “I do,” she said. “Might be able to help you with the Warden problem also.”

“Yes, you very well might.” Arethin turned her attention to the third member of Morrigan and Surana's party. He was a small boy, with dark hair and large yellow eyes. “And who is this?” she asked, gentling her voice.

“Our son, Kieran,” Morrigan said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I am very pleased to meet you,” Arethin said with a smile.

Kieran only nodded, his eyes very wide. “You have old friends, like you have old blood,” he said, very seriously. “My mothers have old blood. But you have friends, too.”

Arethin blinked.

“I have all sorts of friends,” she said.

He nodded again. “I know.”

“And how is that?”

“I know things.”

Arethin glanced at Kieran's mothers, eyebrows raised.

“The circumstances of Kieran's birth were unique,” Morrigan said, holding him closer to her. “He knows many things that are...odd.”

“I see,” Arethin nodded. “Well—come along. The eluvian is nearby.” the group left for the closest eluvian, little conversation occurring among them.

Arethin and Cassandra would glance at each other every once in a while, then quickly look away again, suddenly uncertain of things.

They were all exhausted, except for Kieran and Surana, who chatted with each other rather happily. Briala had an air of grim satisfaction about her, but she did not comment on the night's events.

When they returned to Skyhold, only a few were awake to greet them.

“The conquering heroes,” Dorian was immediately there to greet Vivienne. “I see by all the blood things went well?”

“It was marvelous, darling, you would have loved it,” Vivienne assured him, and the pair of them went off to chat.

Arethin sighed. “I'm going to bed,” she said. “No one bother me.”

“Arethin--” Cassandra started.

“What?”

“I--” Cassandra stopped and shook her head. “Can we talk? After...?”

Arethin's expression softened. “Alright. We'll talk.” then she retreated to her bedroom and didn't come out for the rest of the day.