By his own count, Rilien was done with the tasks his former Bardmistress had set before him; as with the other two, Sparrow had been sent back to her home with his confirmation of the errandās completion. From time to time, the sword serves better than the pen.
His reply had been delivered to him this time, and gave him specific instructions to show up at the Keep after dark that night. He had been instructed to bring Lucien, on the grounds that Aurelie had a message that he would want to hear. Rilien had little doubt that she believed she did; even one such as she would not toy with the time belonging to someone of his station.
Which was perhaps how theyād both reached this point, standing outside the throne room doors, an hour after midnight. Rilien was both armed and armored, because he still was not completely sure of Aurelieās intentions. As accomplished as years and training had made him at reading people, she could at times be completely opaque to him, something which had never bothered him before, because nothing did. In retrospect, he supposed he really had changed, over the last eight years. He wondered if she had as well.
Casting his glance to the side, Rilien tilted his head in wordless inquiry.
Lucien, himself outfitted in light plate and carrying Everburn at his back, nodded slightly in answer. He knew the situation by this point, having heard most of it firsthand from Estella, and then Rilien had explained the rest earlier in the day. He recalled Aurelie, most often called Dame Cygne, mistress of Le Nichoir. He was of course quite surprised that she was in Kirkwall of all places. He had to admit that the Free Marches as individual entities were considered somewhat backwater by the majority of the Court, and Marquise Aurelie wasnāt known for doing anything that did not entail significant gain on her own part.
But then, perhaps those answers would be forthcoming, considering that sheād gone to all the trouble of summoning them here. In any case, he moved with his friend to push open the doors to the throne room, and stepped inside.
She hadnāt bothered to hide, once sheād informed them of where she would be. She also appeared to be entirely alone, but the lack of an audience had never stopped Aurelie from performing for one. She stood before the empty throne, her posture one of the utmost comfort and ease, Her head tilted slightly back and to one side as she regarded their cautious approach. Her arms were crossed loosely, each hand encircling the opposite bicep. Unusually tall for a woman, she painted the very portrait of disaffected elegance and fashionable excess.
Her clothing itself was both travel-ready and perfectly-tailored, giving her a slender, willowy silhouette, which was lent a certain impression of majesty by her trademark cloak, seemingly composed entirely of white swan feathers, from smaller, denser down at the shoulders through the long wingtip feathers that barely swept the floor behind her. Her mask was modeled after a swan, too, elegant and backswept in a wing pattern that extended a few inches behind her head. Her hair, loose and immaculate in platinum-blonde ringlets, bore its grey like gilt silver, something that added to rather than detracted from its impact and grace.
Visible through the mask, her eyes were pearly grey and sharp, tracking every motion they made as they advanced. Other than a rapier at her hip, one of the slightly heavier flamberges, she would seem to be unarmed. Rilien knew it would be a mistake to assume that was true.
When they came to a stop, Aurelieās rose-colored lips tilted upwards into a delicate smile. āIt has been too long, dearheart. I confess I had feared we might never meet again in person. But fate has been as kind to me as it has been cruel to you, I should think.ā She didnāt seem to take Rilienās lack of response as an affront, and instead turned smoothly to Lucien, sweeping herself into a curtsey with flourish. āAnd there are many who thought not to see Your Highness again, of course, but they have already been proven most delightfully mistaken. I thank you for the pleasure of your esteemed company.ā
āNot at all.ā Lucien, of course, did not bow, partly because the station she was invoking didnāt require him to and partly because it was unwise to take oneās eyes off someone with a reputation like Lady Montblancās. āIt is not often a message is carried directly from Val Royeaux, and it seemed only prudent to hear it.ā He was curious as to what tidings had to be brought by someone of Dame Cygneās station, personally. It could not be a small matter.
The bardmistress inclined her head, the motion, though small, somehow conveying a more honest respect than the lavish curtsey had. āThen I shanāt waste your time with needless idling.ā Aurelie descended the stairs in front of the throne, so that she was standing directly in front of them. Her arms had returned to their crossed position, and she made no move to reach for her rapier, stopping what was barely a polite distance from an imperial personage.
āThe Empire is on the brink of civil war, Your Highness. I understand your father has had suspicions about the Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, and it would appear that those suspicions have been proven correct. About a week ago, he proposed marriage to the Empress. She declined, but nowā¦ she has disappeared.ā
Aurelieās eyes lowered, turning to the few standout features of the otherwise sparse throne room, and she sighed slightly. āOf course, this is being kept from the Court at large, and Iāve little doubt that she will be found in short order. I do, after all, have an agent on the task. Howeverā¦ā She let herself trail off, and her tone took on a note of sympathy.
āThere is no mistaking that this will lead to war. The gauntlet has been thrown, and the challenge will not go unanswered. When the time comesā¦ will you still be here, leading a company of mercenaries in this quaint little city? Or will you, perhaps, finally accept your place at the head of an army, or perhaps even an Empire? I assure you, everyone is most eager to discover the answer.ā
"This cannot be the only message you intended to deliver.ā Rilien spoke as flatly as ever, but it only served to lend the weight of certainty to the words themselves. There would have been no point to any of the hurdles sheād made him jump if all she wanted to do was bring this news to Lucien. She was probably faster than a written message, true, but at this stage, she had little to gain from delivering it.
āIt is not.ā Aurelieās acknowledgment was nonchalant, easy. āI am also here to pay a debt. The Divine requested that I offer sanctuary to Grand Cleric Elthina. It is the opinion of the Orlesian Chantry that the Knight-Commanderās abuses of power have gone too far, and Justinia wished to remove her immediate subordinate to prevent somethingā¦ unfortunate from befalling her, should Meredith take this news too poorly. But alas, my warning has fallen on ears so obstinate they have become tone-deaf.ā Her lip curled slightly in a delicate expression of disdain.
"That has nothing to do with me.ā
āNo, but do you blame me? I had missed you so, and here I was with the opportunity to see you again. But of course, what reason would you have had to do as I asked? I made sure you had one, and here you are.ā Silence, thick and heavy, was the only response Rilien had for that, in large part because she was right. He probably would not have consented to meet her without a good enough reason, and she had picked exactly the one that would work every time.
His reticence to speak was nothing new, and Aurelie successfully ignored it. āBut I must admit, dearheart, you really did surprise me. You actually killed the abomination, for one, even though it had nothing to do with what Iād asked. But you didnāt decide to kill any Templars, though you risked discovery for such a decision. It appears youāve learned mercy since last we met, and I confess myself intrigued by this development.ā
"What do you want, Aurelie?ā If possible, his tone had flattened further, but she smiled in reply, stalking closer to him and taking his chin in her hand. He blinked, but otherwise did not react at all.
āWant?ā The word was murmured with a faint hint of perplexity, as though she had not before considered the matter in such terms. Almost certainly not true. āI want you back in the nest, of course. I have missed my mockingbird so. The way he sings so prettily, pretending to all kinds of songs. So versatile, and so empty.ā She patted his cheek, pressing her lips briefly to his brand, and withdrew, tilting her head and examining him curiously, the way a jeweler picks over uncut gems, looking for the ones that will withstand the process of refinement.
"I will not go back.ā Not to her, anyway. That was something he had no reason to do.
She sighed, and blinked, her eyes clearing of that sharp look and resuming something faintly indulgent. āYes, I can see that. It would appear that even you can change. So you have shown me. Well. I suppose it doesnāt hurt me to have a former student of mine at the side of a future Emperor, now does it? It will do.ā She tossed her head, a few of her curls bouncing behind her shoulder, and drew her cloak about herself, straightening to her full height.
āSince I never officially decommissioned you from my service, I do now. You have no more right to the name I have given you, nor the place in Court that goes with it. I strip you of your nom de guerre and your place in Le Nichoire. Officially, you and I have nothing to do with one another.ā She smiled, just a little. āUnofficially, I am interested to see what you become now, dearheart. You know meāIāll be watching.ā A pause. āYour Highness. Ser Falavel.ā She dipped her head.
And with that farewell, Aurelie swept her way out of the throne room, cloak of swan feathers billowing behind her.
His reply had been delivered to him this time, and gave him specific instructions to show up at the Keep after dark that night. He had been instructed to bring Lucien, on the grounds that Aurelie had a message that he would want to hear. Rilien had little doubt that she believed she did; even one such as she would not toy with the time belonging to someone of his station.
Which was perhaps how theyād both reached this point, standing outside the throne room doors, an hour after midnight. Rilien was both armed and armored, because he still was not completely sure of Aurelieās intentions. As accomplished as years and training had made him at reading people, she could at times be completely opaque to him, something which had never bothered him before, because nothing did. In retrospect, he supposed he really had changed, over the last eight years. He wondered if she had as well.
Casting his glance to the side, Rilien tilted his head in wordless inquiry.
Lucien, himself outfitted in light plate and carrying Everburn at his back, nodded slightly in answer. He knew the situation by this point, having heard most of it firsthand from Estella, and then Rilien had explained the rest earlier in the day. He recalled Aurelie, most often called Dame Cygne, mistress of Le Nichoir. He was of course quite surprised that she was in Kirkwall of all places. He had to admit that the Free Marches as individual entities were considered somewhat backwater by the majority of the Court, and Marquise Aurelie wasnāt known for doing anything that did not entail significant gain on her own part.
But then, perhaps those answers would be forthcoming, considering that sheād gone to all the trouble of summoning them here. In any case, he moved with his friend to push open the doors to the throne room, and stepped inside.
She hadnāt bothered to hide, once sheād informed them of where she would be. She also appeared to be entirely alone, but the lack of an audience had never stopped Aurelie from performing for one. She stood before the empty throne, her posture one of the utmost comfort and ease, Her head tilted slightly back and to one side as she regarded their cautious approach. Her arms were crossed loosely, each hand encircling the opposite bicep. Unusually tall for a woman, she painted the very portrait of disaffected elegance and fashionable excess.
Her clothing itself was both travel-ready and perfectly-tailored, giving her a slender, willowy silhouette, which was lent a certain impression of majesty by her trademark cloak, seemingly composed entirely of white swan feathers, from smaller, denser down at the shoulders through the long wingtip feathers that barely swept the floor behind her. Her mask was modeled after a swan, too, elegant and backswept in a wing pattern that extended a few inches behind her head. Her hair, loose and immaculate in platinum-blonde ringlets, bore its grey like gilt silver, something that added to rather than detracted from its impact and grace.
Visible through the mask, her eyes were pearly grey and sharp, tracking every motion they made as they advanced. Other than a rapier at her hip, one of the slightly heavier flamberges, she would seem to be unarmed. Rilien knew it would be a mistake to assume that was true.
When they came to a stop, Aurelieās rose-colored lips tilted upwards into a delicate smile. āIt has been too long, dearheart. I confess I had feared we might never meet again in person. But fate has been as kind to me as it has been cruel to you, I should think.ā She didnāt seem to take Rilienās lack of response as an affront, and instead turned smoothly to Lucien, sweeping herself into a curtsey with flourish. āAnd there are many who thought not to see Your Highness again, of course, but they have already been proven most delightfully mistaken. I thank you for the pleasure of your esteemed company.ā
āNot at all.ā Lucien, of course, did not bow, partly because the station she was invoking didnāt require him to and partly because it was unwise to take oneās eyes off someone with a reputation like Lady Montblancās. āIt is not often a message is carried directly from Val Royeaux, and it seemed only prudent to hear it.ā He was curious as to what tidings had to be brought by someone of Dame Cygneās station, personally. It could not be a small matter.
The bardmistress inclined her head, the motion, though small, somehow conveying a more honest respect than the lavish curtsey had. āThen I shanāt waste your time with needless idling.ā Aurelie descended the stairs in front of the throne, so that she was standing directly in front of them. Her arms had returned to their crossed position, and she made no move to reach for her rapier, stopping what was barely a polite distance from an imperial personage.
āThe Empire is on the brink of civil war, Your Highness. I understand your father has had suspicions about the Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, and it would appear that those suspicions have been proven correct. About a week ago, he proposed marriage to the Empress. She declined, but nowā¦ she has disappeared.ā
Aurelieās eyes lowered, turning to the few standout features of the otherwise sparse throne room, and she sighed slightly. āOf course, this is being kept from the Court at large, and Iāve little doubt that she will be found in short order. I do, after all, have an agent on the task. Howeverā¦ā She let herself trail off, and her tone took on a note of sympathy.
āThere is no mistaking that this will lead to war. The gauntlet has been thrown, and the challenge will not go unanswered. When the time comesā¦ will you still be here, leading a company of mercenaries in this quaint little city? Or will you, perhaps, finally accept your place at the head of an army, or perhaps even an Empire? I assure you, everyone is most eager to discover the answer.ā
"This cannot be the only message you intended to deliver.ā Rilien spoke as flatly as ever, but it only served to lend the weight of certainty to the words themselves. There would have been no point to any of the hurdles sheād made him jump if all she wanted to do was bring this news to Lucien. She was probably faster than a written message, true, but at this stage, she had little to gain from delivering it.
āIt is not.ā Aurelieās acknowledgment was nonchalant, easy. āI am also here to pay a debt. The Divine requested that I offer sanctuary to Grand Cleric Elthina. It is the opinion of the Orlesian Chantry that the Knight-Commanderās abuses of power have gone too far, and Justinia wished to remove her immediate subordinate to prevent somethingā¦ unfortunate from befalling her, should Meredith take this news too poorly. But alas, my warning has fallen on ears so obstinate they have become tone-deaf.ā Her lip curled slightly in a delicate expression of disdain.
"That has nothing to do with me.ā
āNo, but do you blame me? I had missed you so, and here I was with the opportunity to see you again. But of course, what reason would you have had to do as I asked? I made sure you had one, and here you are.ā Silence, thick and heavy, was the only response Rilien had for that, in large part because she was right. He probably would not have consented to meet her without a good enough reason, and she had picked exactly the one that would work every time.
His reticence to speak was nothing new, and Aurelie successfully ignored it. āBut I must admit, dearheart, you really did surprise me. You actually killed the abomination, for one, even though it had nothing to do with what Iād asked. But you didnāt decide to kill any Templars, though you risked discovery for such a decision. It appears youāve learned mercy since last we met, and I confess myself intrigued by this development.ā
"What do you want, Aurelie?ā If possible, his tone had flattened further, but she smiled in reply, stalking closer to him and taking his chin in her hand. He blinked, but otherwise did not react at all.
āWant?ā The word was murmured with a faint hint of perplexity, as though she had not before considered the matter in such terms. Almost certainly not true. āI want you back in the nest, of course. I have missed my mockingbird so. The way he sings so prettily, pretending to all kinds of songs. So versatile, and so empty.ā She patted his cheek, pressing her lips briefly to his brand, and withdrew, tilting her head and examining him curiously, the way a jeweler picks over uncut gems, looking for the ones that will withstand the process of refinement.
"I will not go back.ā Not to her, anyway. That was something he had no reason to do.
She sighed, and blinked, her eyes clearing of that sharp look and resuming something faintly indulgent. āYes, I can see that. It would appear that even you can change. So you have shown me. Well. I suppose it doesnāt hurt me to have a former student of mine at the side of a future Emperor, now does it? It will do.ā She tossed her head, a few of her curls bouncing behind her shoulder, and drew her cloak about herself, straightening to her full height.
āSince I never officially decommissioned you from my service, I do now. You have no more right to the name I have given you, nor the place in Court that goes with it. I strip you of your nom de guerre and your place in Le Nichoire. Officially, you and I have nothing to do with one another.ā She smiled, just a little. āUnofficially, I am interested to see what you become now, dearheart. You know meāIāll be watching.ā A pause. āYour Highness. Ser Falavel.ā She dipped her head.
And with that farewell, Aurelie swept her way out of the throne room, cloak of swan feathers billowing behind her.
The Chanter's Board has been updated. The Sanguine Requiem has been completed.