Lucien turned the envelope over in his hands, setting his index fingers at opposing corners and using his thumbs to rotate it on the axis, though he wasnât really paying attention. Rather, he was leaned back in his chair, staring with unfocused eyes at some unremarkable spot on the wall in front of his desk.
It wasnât something he was obligated to do, socially. He knew that much. Nor did familial obligation often extend quite this far. And yet, as a matter of principle, he knew he would do it. He preferred to look out for his relatives when he could, even if he rarely agreed with them. He and his father were closest in this respect, and even they had points of contention, things they generally didnât speak of with one another, because it always ended in an argument. A relatively understated argumentâthere were no dramatics, and only Guy occasionally even raised his voiceâbut they were arguments all the same. The two of them both had a way of stubbornly digging their heels in, and butting heads like stags, locking antlers long past the point that either of them really wanted to, but both far too proud to relent.
So avoidance was usually better. He could not, however, avoid disagreement with, say, his aunt or his second cousin, because the issues on which they differed were far too many. Despite this, he couldnât well let a suspicion like this one pass. Sighing, Lucien stopped rotating the envelope and tapped his chin with one of its corners instead, still lost in thought. Or at least he was, until a knock sounded at his office door. âCome in,â he called quietly, regaining some, but not all, of his formal posture.
The door swung open to reveal Donnelly, currently out of gear, wearing only breeches, boots, and the standard-issue Lionsâ tunicâmaroon in color, trimmed with a bit of silver. The crest was modest on the sleeve, but noticeable all the same. âHey Commander, I uh⊠I wanted to ask you something.â
Lucien smiled kindly and gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. He thought it was relatively obvious that Donnelly had something to ask, since he was here at all, but he chose not to point that out. Sometimes, the younger ones were still a little awkward around him, but that was to be expected. None of them had come from a military or mercenary background; they were still learning what was and wasnât acceptable. Generally, their manners were rough, but careful, and he suspectedâhoped, reallyâthat theyâd treat him a little more casually with time. As long as they were willing to do what he said on the field, he didnât even really care if they forewent the titles. âAnd what would that be?â
Donnelly shifted slightly. âI⊠well, I was hoping I might get some time off. Not that I donât want to be here or anything, itâs just⊠my cousinâs having a baby, and we were really close growing up, so I thought I should go see her for a while, you know?â
Lucienâs brows furrowed. âI thought you still had some paid leave left for the year?â It was quite close to the new year now, but few of them had taken much leave at all, as far as he knew. The official records were kept by Katrin, the middle-aged woman he employed as bookkeeper and receptionist, but he was usually aware of these things.
âWell⊠I did, but⊠most of us took ours together, after, you know⊠Tessa.â
Understanding immediately lit Lucienâs features, and he nodded slightly, reaching into his desk to remove a blank sheet of parchment. âI see. Will two more weeks suffice, or would you prefer more?â He knew Donnellyâs family was a fair ways out in the countryside, closer to Ostwick than Kirkwall, but it shouldnât take him more than two days either way on one of the company horses.
âEr, no⊠twoâs great. Thank you, Commander.â The younger manâs face brightened considerably as he accepted the parchment, then he paused for a moment. âActually⊠can I ask you something else?â Lucien nodded. âItâs just⊠itâs been a while since I saw any of them, and last time I did⊠it seemed different. We didnât⊠we couldnât really talk well. Theyâd say things about crops or the weather this year, and I⊠I think Iâm forgetting what itâs like for those things to matter. And nothing I said matters to them at all, I know that. Iâm not really sure what to do.â He screwed his face up in a grimace.
When he answered, Lucien spoke with sympathy. âI understand what you mean,â he said quietly. âParts of my family arenât soldiers at all. They never have been, and because of that, there are certain things that are very important in my mind that concern them not at all. Likewise, there are things about career diplomats or tradesmen that I will never fully grasp. Itâs a sign that youâre growing into this life.â And out of his old one, as the case may be. âIt doesnât have to be a bad thing. Perhaps your relatives wonât really understand what it means that youâve mastered a new technique, and I certainly donât recommend going into all the vivid details of our work, but⊠I think they would understand just fine if you told them about the people youâd met, and the ones youâve helped, or perhaps all the card games youâve managed to lose.â The last was a rather well-known barracks factâDonnelly was a sucker, and very bad at gambling in all capacities.
The youth looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded slightly. âYeah⊠yeah, I suppose that makes sense.â He seemed to contemplate Lucien for a moment, and then blurted. âYouâre like⊠a big deal in Orlais, right? Stel said she thought you were a noble, and you said something about diplomats. So⊠why are you here with us?â
Though the question might have offended, Lucien was only amused. âEstella wasnât wrong, but Iâm here because itâs where I want to be. Perhaps it wonât always be so, but I intend to make the most of what I have.â Donnelly, looking faintly chagrined, thanked him for the leave and the advice, and departed, leaving Lucien once again to his thoughts.
Yes⊠he would likely be taking Duke Prosper up on his invitation, if only to make sure. He didnât much understand his family, and he was sure few of them understood him, but family they were nonetheless. He was taking another sheet of parchment to reply when another knock sounded on his door. This time, when he indicated that the person on the other end was free to enter, it swung open to reveal someone he hadnât been expecting.
âAmalia?â
Lucien had volunteered the use of the barracks for the meeting that was about to take place. There were light refreshments present, courtesy of Idrisâs wife Mella, but none of the other Lions were there. After several hours of discussion, Amalia had departed the barracks to ask after Ithilian and Aurora, and Lucien himself had penned short requests to Rilien and Sophia, asking if they would be willing to come by this evening, as he had a favor to ask of them. Those had been delivered by Estella and Cor some time ago, but it was yet a little early to be expecting them.
Amalia returned just as he was laying out the map of the Free Marches, regularly kept in his office, along one of the long tables. While she might perhaps normally have remained standing, she took a seat this time on the bench, her mouth set into a grim line, and they waited for the arrival of their friends.
Rilien made a point of being on time to everything, and on time by his definition was about ten minutes early, so it was likely little surprise when he showed up at the barracks first, entering and proceeding calmly to the place where the other two were seated. He eyed the map on the table, tilting his head to one side in a birdlike fashion, then seated himself wordlessly to Lucienâs left. He wasnât sure why exactly Amalia was here, but he had no issues with it, and he suspected the first order of things would be precisely he explanation he sought. Given his own disdain for repetition, he chose not to ask yet.
Aurora was next in, her scarf pulled up high around her neck and her coat pulled in tight. The wind still had a bite to it, so she slipped in rather quickly, shutting the door behind her. She spent a moment at the door glancing at who were already assembled, but said nothing on the matter. She figured that an explanation would come on its own time, when everyone else had arrived. She wouldn't make them explain it more than once, so she sidled up to where Lucien laid out the refreshments and began to help herself.
Ithilian had thrown a leather jerkin over his shirt, and was now armed with his blades, though he hardly expected to need to use them here. Still, word of assassins had him a little on edge, and having his remaining blade and Parshaara with him helped him feel more comfortable. He took a seat next to Amalia, nodding a greeting to Aurora, Rilien, and Lucien.
Sophia was last to appear, having made the longer trip down from her manor in Hightown. She'd armed and armored herself lightly, and shrugged off a scarlet cloak as she closed the barracks door behind her. "Hello, everyone. You haven't been waiting long, have you?" she asked, a mostly rhetorical question. After hanging up the cloak, she made her way over to Lucien's right hand side and settled into a seat, surveying what was laid out before her. "How can I help?"
Picking up Sophiaâs question without hesitation, Amalia started speaking from her seated position near the end of the table. âThe Qunari believe that I am planning to meet with an Orlesian noble, a man named Duke Prosper. Whatever I am supposed to be doing at this meeting, it is sufficiently concerning that they felt the need to dispose of me before I could manage to do it. I have never met or heard of this person, and so I asked Lucien if he knew who Prosper was.â
Lucien nodded slightly. âAs it happens, heâs a political ally of myâthat is, the Empressâs.â He had a feeling most everyone was reasonably aware that he was related to her, but he didnât see the need to be too pointed about it. âHeâs of a particularly⊠ambitious stripe, however, and with the political climate in Orlais recently⊠my father suspects his allegiance may be in danger of shifting, and has asked me to look into the matter, as the Duke is wintering here in the Free Marches.â He used his first two fingers to tap a spot on the map, in the mountains, but relatively close to the Orlesian border. It would take a few days of travel to get there.
âI know not what business this Prosper has with Qunari, but I am unlikely to discover why I am being targeted without more direct access to the pertinent information. If I can figure out what it really going on and deal with it appropriately, I am relatively certain the Ariqun, and by extension, her assassins, will leave me and the rest of Kirkwall be.â Amalia grimaced slightly, shaking her head as if to herself.
âFortunately, thereâs a rather simple way to do this: Iâve received an invitation to the Prosper estate for a wyvern hunt.â Lucien shrugged slightly and sat back. âAs a person of⊠some degree of status, itâs rather expected that I will have in my company a retinue of some kind, and a guest, should I desire one. I donât know if whatâs going on with the Qunari is at all connected to my fatherâs suspicions, but either way, Iâm willing to help Amalia here, and she has agreed that she is willing to help me, as well.â It was clear that they could help each other: Lucien could provide exactly the plausible cover Amalia would need to gain access to Prosperâs estate, and her particular brand of skills in espionage and information gathering may well turn up something he could use. If not, well⊠heâd helped a friend, and that was good enough.
âWe were⊠rather hoping that the rest of you would be willing to help us. It will likely be an endeavor of nearly a week, considering travel time, but the Lions have the horses for it, if you have the time.â
"And in what manner does Ser Guillame believe Prosper will betray Celene?â The question was Rilienâs. It seemed difficult to believe that it would have anything to do with Qunari, but then they didnât have much of the information; perhaps Lucienâs father had more. It went without saying, of course, that he would assist; he didnât even take the request itself to have been directed at himâit was simply obvious that he would be part of this.
Lucien sighed. âItâs less that he sees an opportunity and more that he sees a motive. The chevaliers are slowly splitting in two, and the faction breaking off is doing so under my second cousin Gaspard. As far as father sees it, thereâs a lot more room for social mobility if someone were to get on his good side. Itâs very little at the moment, which is why he wanted me to get a sense for it. Iâm afraid I donât have anything more specific. Before Amalia came to me, I was simply going to go under the pretense of trying to establish a few more ties now that the exileâs been lifted. Thatâs still what Iâll do, just⊠Iâll also be listening for any mention of Qunari.â It was a long shot, more on his end than Amaliaâs, where something odd definitely was going on, but he had to take it anyway. If he didnât discover anything, then the loss would simply be a week of his time.
"The Alienage will keep for a week," Ithilian said, before adding a quiet, "most likely." In truth, he wasn't fond of leaving, with the Templars beginning to prod their noses around the vhenadahl, but if Amalia needed to access this Prosper's estate, then he would go too, and help where he could. He imagined it wouldn't be by accompanying Lucien. Even as a servant, Ithilian would likely terrify the Orlesian nobility. And it went without saying that he'd struggle posing as a servant in the first place.
Sophia, meanwhile, followed the intricacies of the situation much better than the Dalish member of the group, and it was quite clear to her how potentially dangerous the situation was. Qunari involvement aside, a fracturing of the chevaliers was trouble. Her own role in their group would likely be quite different from the rest, given that she actually had the social standing to attend as herself, and while she wasn't keen on the idea of playing the Game with the Orlesians... "I can certainly spare the time. And I wouldn't mind another trip out of Kirkwall." That spot in the mountains looked scenic even from the map.
It seemed it was Aurora's turn to answer. Swallowing the sandwich she had in her mouth, she took a breath before she said, "I'll need to work something out first, but I think I can last a week." She'd have to talk to Donovan first, and let him know he'd be in charge of the Underground's studies while she was gone, and to keep Pike in line, but she had a feeling he could last at least a week on his own.
"But... I'll need some new clothes. I don't have anything that won't insult Orlesian sensibilities," she added. Her closet wasn't grand by any means, and though it contained plenty of bright clothing, none of it was particularly well made.
Rilien blinked, intentionally raising a brow. "That can be arranged.â He paused, then turned to Lucien and Amalia for a moment. "I will also see what I can do about information. Some of my contacts may know more of Prosper, or the Qunari.â
It wasnât something he was obligated to do, socially. He knew that much. Nor did familial obligation often extend quite this far. And yet, as a matter of principle, he knew he would do it. He preferred to look out for his relatives when he could, even if he rarely agreed with them. He and his father were closest in this respect, and even they had points of contention, things they generally didnât speak of with one another, because it always ended in an argument. A relatively understated argumentâthere were no dramatics, and only Guy occasionally even raised his voiceâbut they were arguments all the same. The two of them both had a way of stubbornly digging their heels in, and butting heads like stags, locking antlers long past the point that either of them really wanted to, but both far too proud to relent.
So avoidance was usually better. He could not, however, avoid disagreement with, say, his aunt or his second cousin, because the issues on which they differed were far too many. Despite this, he couldnât well let a suspicion like this one pass. Sighing, Lucien stopped rotating the envelope and tapped his chin with one of its corners instead, still lost in thought. Or at least he was, until a knock sounded at his office door. âCome in,â he called quietly, regaining some, but not all, of his formal posture.
The door swung open to reveal Donnelly, currently out of gear, wearing only breeches, boots, and the standard-issue Lionsâ tunicâmaroon in color, trimmed with a bit of silver. The crest was modest on the sleeve, but noticeable all the same. âHey Commander, I uh⊠I wanted to ask you something.â
Lucien smiled kindly and gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. He thought it was relatively obvious that Donnelly had something to ask, since he was here at all, but he chose not to point that out. Sometimes, the younger ones were still a little awkward around him, but that was to be expected. None of them had come from a military or mercenary background; they were still learning what was and wasnât acceptable. Generally, their manners were rough, but careful, and he suspectedâhoped, reallyâthat theyâd treat him a little more casually with time. As long as they were willing to do what he said on the field, he didnât even really care if they forewent the titles. âAnd what would that be?â
Donnelly shifted slightly. âI⊠well, I was hoping I might get some time off. Not that I donât want to be here or anything, itâs just⊠my cousinâs having a baby, and we were really close growing up, so I thought I should go see her for a while, you know?â
Lucienâs brows furrowed. âI thought you still had some paid leave left for the year?â It was quite close to the new year now, but few of them had taken much leave at all, as far as he knew. The official records were kept by Katrin, the middle-aged woman he employed as bookkeeper and receptionist, but he was usually aware of these things.
âWell⊠I did, but⊠most of us took ours together, after, you know⊠Tessa.â
Understanding immediately lit Lucienâs features, and he nodded slightly, reaching into his desk to remove a blank sheet of parchment. âI see. Will two more weeks suffice, or would you prefer more?â He knew Donnellyâs family was a fair ways out in the countryside, closer to Ostwick than Kirkwall, but it shouldnât take him more than two days either way on one of the company horses.
âEr, no⊠twoâs great. Thank you, Commander.â The younger manâs face brightened considerably as he accepted the parchment, then he paused for a moment. âActually⊠can I ask you something else?â Lucien nodded. âItâs just⊠itâs been a while since I saw any of them, and last time I did⊠it seemed different. We didnât⊠we couldnât really talk well. Theyâd say things about crops or the weather this year, and I⊠I think Iâm forgetting what itâs like for those things to matter. And nothing I said matters to them at all, I know that. Iâm not really sure what to do.â He screwed his face up in a grimace.
When he answered, Lucien spoke with sympathy. âI understand what you mean,â he said quietly. âParts of my family arenât soldiers at all. They never have been, and because of that, there are certain things that are very important in my mind that concern them not at all. Likewise, there are things about career diplomats or tradesmen that I will never fully grasp. Itâs a sign that youâre growing into this life.â And out of his old one, as the case may be. âIt doesnât have to be a bad thing. Perhaps your relatives wonât really understand what it means that youâve mastered a new technique, and I certainly donât recommend going into all the vivid details of our work, but⊠I think they would understand just fine if you told them about the people youâd met, and the ones youâve helped, or perhaps all the card games youâve managed to lose.â The last was a rather well-known barracks factâDonnelly was a sucker, and very bad at gambling in all capacities.
The youth looked thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded slightly. âYeah⊠yeah, I suppose that makes sense.â He seemed to contemplate Lucien for a moment, and then blurted. âYouâre like⊠a big deal in Orlais, right? Stel said she thought you were a noble, and you said something about diplomats. So⊠why are you here with us?â
Though the question might have offended, Lucien was only amused. âEstella wasnât wrong, but Iâm here because itâs where I want to be. Perhaps it wonât always be so, but I intend to make the most of what I have.â Donnelly, looking faintly chagrined, thanked him for the leave and the advice, and departed, leaving Lucien once again to his thoughts.
Yes⊠he would likely be taking Duke Prosper up on his invitation, if only to make sure. He didnât much understand his family, and he was sure few of them understood him, but family they were nonetheless. He was taking another sheet of parchment to reply when another knock sounded on his door. This time, when he indicated that the person on the other end was free to enter, it swung open to reveal someone he hadnât been expecting.
âAmalia?â
Lucien had volunteered the use of the barracks for the meeting that was about to take place. There were light refreshments present, courtesy of Idrisâs wife Mella, but none of the other Lions were there. After several hours of discussion, Amalia had departed the barracks to ask after Ithilian and Aurora, and Lucien himself had penned short requests to Rilien and Sophia, asking if they would be willing to come by this evening, as he had a favor to ask of them. Those had been delivered by Estella and Cor some time ago, but it was yet a little early to be expecting them.
Amalia returned just as he was laying out the map of the Free Marches, regularly kept in his office, along one of the long tables. While she might perhaps normally have remained standing, she took a seat this time on the bench, her mouth set into a grim line, and they waited for the arrival of their friends.
Rilien made a point of being on time to everything, and on time by his definition was about ten minutes early, so it was likely little surprise when he showed up at the barracks first, entering and proceeding calmly to the place where the other two were seated. He eyed the map on the table, tilting his head to one side in a birdlike fashion, then seated himself wordlessly to Lucienâs left. He wasnât sure why exactly Amalia was here, but he had no issues with it, and he suspected the first order of things would be precisely he explanation he sought. Given his own disdain for repetition, he chose not to ask yet.
Aurora was next in, her scarf pulled up high around her neck and her coat pulled in tight. The wind still had a bite to it, so she slipped in rather quickly, shutting the door behind her. She spent a moment at the door glancing at who were already assembled, but said nothing on the matter. She figured that an explanation would come on its own time, when everyone else had arrived. She wouldn't make them explain it more than once, so she sidled up to where Lucien laid out the refreshments and began to help herself.
Ithilian had thrown a leather jerkin over his shirt, and was now armed with his blades, though he hardly expected to need to use them here. Still, word of assassins had him a little on edge, and having his remaining blade and Parshaara with him helped him feel more comfortable. He took a seat next to Amalia, nodding a greeting to Aurora, Rilien, and Lucien.
Sophia was last to appear, having made the longer trip down from her manor in Hightown. She'd armed and armored herself lightly, and shrugged off a scarlet cloak as she closed the barracks door behind her. "Hello, everyone. You haven't been waiting long, have you?" she asked, a mostly rhetorical question. After hanging up the cloak, she made her way over to Lucien's right hand side and settled into a seat, surveying what was laid out before her. "How can I help?"
Picking up Sophiaâs question without hesitation, Amalia started speaking from her seated position near the end of the table. âThe Qunari believe that I am planning to meet with an Orlesian noble, a man named Duke Prosper. Whatever I am supposed to be doing at this meeting, it is sufficiently concerning that they felt the need to dispose of me before I could manage to do it. I have never met or heard of this person, and so I asked Lucien if he knew who Prosper was.â
Lucien nodded slightly. âAs it happens, heâs a political ally of myâthat is, the Empressâs.â He had a feeling most everyone was reasonably aware that he was related to her, but he didnât see the need to be too pointed about it. âHeâs of a particularly⊠ambitious stripe, however, and with the political climate in Orlais recently⊠my father suspects his allegiance may be in danger of shifting, and has asked me to look into the matter, as the Duke is wintering here in the Free Marches.â He used his first two fingers to tap a spot on the map, in the mountains, but relatively close to the Orlesian border. It would take a few days of travel to get there.
âI know not what business this Prosper has with Qunari, but I am unlikely to discover why I am being targeted without more direct access to the pertinent information. If I can figure out what it really going on and deal with it appropriately, I am relatively certain the Ariqun, and by extension, her assassins, will leave me and the rest of Kirkwall be.â Amalia grimaced slightly, shaking her head as if to herself.
âFortunately, thereâs a rather simple way to do this: Iâve received an invitation to the Prosper estate for a wyvern hunt.â Lucien shrugged slightly and sat back. âAs a person of⊠some degree of status, itâs rather expected that I will have in my company a retinue of some kind, and a guest, should I desire one. I donât know if whatâs going on with the Qunari is at all connected to my fatherâs suspicions, but either way, Iâm willing to help Amalia here, and she has agreed that she is willing to help me, as well.â It was clear that they could help each other: Lucien could provide exactly the plausible cover Amalia would need to gain access to Prosperâs estate, and her particular brand of skills in espionage and information gathering may well turn up something he could use. If not, well⊠heâd helped a friend, and that was good enough.
âWe were⊠rather hoping that the rest of you would be willing to help us. It will likely be an endeavor of nearly a week, considering travel time, but the Lions have the horses for it, if you have the time.â
"And in what manner does Ser Guillame believe Prosper will betray Celene?â The question was Rilienâs. It seemed difficult to believe that it would have anything to do with Qunari, but then they didnât have much of the information; perhaps Lucienâs father had more. It went without saying, of course, that he would assist; he didnât even take the request itself to have been directed at himâit was simply obvious that he would be part of this.
Lucien sighed. âItâs less that he sees an opportunity and more that he sees a motive. The chevaliers are slowly splitting in two, and the faction breaking off is doing so under my second cousin Gaspard. As far as father sees it, thereâs a lot more room for social mobility if someone were to get on his good side. Itâs very little at the moment, which is why he wanted me to get a sense for it. Iâm afraid I donât have anything more specific. Before Amalia came to me, I was simply going to go under the pretense of trying to establish a few more ties now that the exileâs been lifted. Thatâs still what Iâll do, just⊠Iâll also be listening for any mention of Qunari.â It was a long shot, more on his end than Amaliaâs, where something odd definitely was going on, but he had to take it anyway. If he didnât discover anything, then the loss would simply be a week of his time.
"The Alienage will keep for a week," Ithilian said, before adding a quiet, "most likely." In truth, he wasn't fond of leaving, with the Templars beginning to prod their noses around the vhenadahl, but if Amalia needed to access this Prosper's estate, then he would go too, and help where he could. He imagined it wouldn't be by accompanying Lucien. Even as a servant, Ithilian would likely terrify the Orlesian nobility. And it went without saying that he'd struggle posing as a servant in the first place.
Sophia, meanwhile, followed the intricacies of the situation much better than the Dalish member of the group, and it was quite clear to her how potentially dangerous the situation was. Qunari involvement aside, a fracturing of the chevaliers was trouble. Her own role in their group would likely be quite different from the rest, given that she actually had the social standing to attend as herself, and while she wasn't keen on the idea of playing the Game with the Orlesians... "I can certainly spare the time. And I wouldn't mind another trip out of Kirkwall." That spot in the mountains looked scenic even from the map.
It seemed it was Aurora's turn to answer. Swallowing the sandwich she had in her mouth, she took a breath before she said, "I'll need to work something out first, but I think I can last a week." She'd have to talk to Donovan first, and let him know he'd be in charge of the Underground's studies while she was gone, and to keep Pike in line, but she had a feeling he could last at least a week on his own.
"But... I'll need some new clothes. I don't have anything that won't insult Orlesian sensibilities," she added. Her closet wasn't grand by any means, and though it contained plenty of bright clothing, none of it was particularly well made.
Rilien blinked, intentionally raising a brow. "That can be arranged.â He paused, then turned to Lucien and Amalia for a moment. "I will also see what I can do about information. Some of my contacts may know more of Prosper, or the Qunari.â