And the People heard the truth in Shartan's voice,
And some cursed themselves and their fate and despaired.
And others began to fashion spears and bows
From the branches of trees, and girded themselves
With bark and scraps torn from their sandals
And dug pits in the earth with their hands.
-Canticle of Shartan 9:8
It was an odd sort of nostalgia, that this place provoked.
Honestly, Corvin wasn't even sure that nostalgia was the right word—he'd never been much for notions of home. Every place he'd lived that other people had called home had been busy, crowded, more than a little uncomfortable. Far from the sort of cozy warmth that he figured a word like nostalgia was supposed to cover. Now provoked, on the other hand—that was a good word for Val Royeaux. An assault on the senses, sometimes a giddy deluge of color and sound and light, and at other times just so much noise. Chaos, neatly packaged into bits for the rich and left to sprawl and fester for everyone else.
Really, it was just a matter of time before something gave, but if Lucien asked him to stave that off, he'd hold the proverbial doors closed with both arms and the rest of his body too.
The rhythmic clopping of their horses' hooves on the cobblestones was drowned out entirely by the bustle of traffic in and out of the Sun Gate, thrown wide for the people bleeding into and out of the city. Caravans, painted brightly and covered in dyed, fluttering canvas, were in the minority; most of the trade came in the other way. But here, there were dignitaries aplenty, people dressed in silk and smooth linen in rich hues, soldiers with polished, plumed helms and glittering armor, messengers weaving amongst the horses and carriages like lives depended on their fleetness. Jangling, clanking, creaking, voices mixing in volume and pitch to something he found almost musical in a good mood and aggravating beyond belief in a bad one.
Taking his eyes off the path for a moment, Corvin reached down into one of his saddlebags, pulling out the simple, lined leather mask he used inside the city. Other than the slight suggestion of a feline nose, the buttery white material was largely plain, designed to cover little more than the eyes and the area immediately around them, minimizing damage to his peripheral vision and not obstructing his breathing at all, like some of the full-face ones could do. For now, he held it on his knee, reins held loosely in the other hand. It wouldn't do to just push through, despite the urgency of the visit. Anything could keep for a few more minutes around here.
"Feels kind of strange to be back after all this time," he observed, eyes flicking to the edge of what his visor would let him see, where Lia rode beside him.
She was already masked, a strip of her face concealed by maroon-dyed leather associating her with the mercenary company to which they both belonged. Back when they'd lived here that was all they'd belonged to. She hated wearing it, he knew, but if it was something she needed to do to better deflect attention, she'd do it.
"I'd almost forgotten the sound," she said, lifting her voice only as much as she needed to. "And the volume. Puts Kirkwall to shame. Compared to Lydes or Skyhold, it's..." She shook her head, loose blonde locks sliding back and forth across her upper back. She lacked the word for it, apparently, but it had to be something close to overwhelming. Lydes was a quiet, peaceful place for the Inquisition to move into, its calm a near opposite to the activity of Val Royeaux.
Lia's posture was tense. Corvin could easily remember a time when that would be caused just by riding. Back when they'd first left Kirkwall she'd hardly had much experience at it. It wasn't the horse that put her ill at ease, though, that much was clear. It was the looming gates, the masses of unfamiliar people, the grandeur of the Castle District. Val Royeaux was not often as friendly as it looked when standing before the Sun Gates.
Gradually, traffic flowed past the gate proper, spitting them out in the most glorious district of what he knew some people considered the most beautiful city in the world. Corvin figured that was really an eye of the beholder kind of thing, and his eyes had a bit of trouble seeing beauty here, of all the places.
Still, there were bright spots, and counter to his instincts as it was, the Imperial Palace was one of them. Almost entirely white stone, with thin spires and towers more ornamental than functional. Architecture aside, though, Corvin fancied he could almost feel the warmth and dignity exuding from it, thrown off by its two most famous residents. As he turned his horse, Sable, so that her nose pointed towards it, he tugged off his helm, breathing a sigh of relief even as the chill air his his face. Winter was quite frosty in the region, about as much as it had been growing up.
Running a hand through his dark hair to pull it out of his face, he settled the mask on. He didn't hate them half as much as Lia did—honestly he welcomed the opportunity to be a little less... open. Not that he'd ever say it. The helm was tied to his saddle, and from against his chest he extracted the formal request that had summoned the two of them here, which he presented to the guard at the palace entrance.
It was hard to mistake the Emperor's signature, even if the masks hadn't been enough to identify them as welcome here, and they were waved through with little fanfare, allowed to dismount and pass their horses off to grooms. "All right, now let's see if I remember where their offices are..."
They were subjected to a dizzying level of opulence in the Palace, though apparently it had been even worse back when Celene had called it home. Inside, the halls could be labyrinthine in nature; the building itself had been expanded several times over the ages, Emperors and Empresses trying to outdo their predecessors in splendor, and it led to some floor plans that were intrinsically confusing. Thankfully, Lucien and Sophia had situated their workplace not too far off from the main hall and entryway.
"Oh good, you're here!" Their attention was drawn down the hall to their right, where the Empress herself approached. A fellow outsider to Orlais, she was known to forgo the mask here in her own home, even when greeting guests. Lia's eyes were obviously drawn to the fact that Sophia had grown rather large since the last time any of them had seen her, back in Halamshiral last autumn. She couldn't have more than a month or so before the baby would arrive.
Lia forcibly pulled her eyes away, and dipped into a quick curtsy. "Good to see you, Sophia."
"You can stare if you wish, it's all right. Maker knows I've done enough of it myself." She nodded to Corvin next. "How was the ride? No trouble on the road, I hope?"
Corvin shook his head, donning a personable smile. It wasn't a hard thing to do, for the Empress, someone he'd met for the first time in the Lions' training yard in Kirkwall. "Nothing we couldn't handle." It was true that two elves traveling by themselves with gear as nice as theirs weren't exactly unappealing targets, but the more intelligent would-be thieves backed off before starting anything, recognizing the familiarity with which both he and Lia handled that same gear. It probably helped that he didn't look much like an elf in full armor with a helmet on, being as tall as he was.
"Looking forward to being able to move around like a normal person again, I'm guessing?" Even as he said it, he slowed his stride a little to accommodate the fact that the day was a ways off yet.
"Looking forward to training again, too. It's been a little difficult to keep in practice with the bladework. But yes, there's a great deal I'm eagerly anticipating." She turned to her right, and they neared a pair of spear-armed guards in steel polished such that Corvin could easily make his shape out in their breastplates as he passed. They saluted the Empress, the guardsman on the right reaching out to open the way for them. Sophia offered them a smile as she led the way inside.
"Lucien, Julien. Our cavalry has arrived."
The front room had plenty of space to hold all five of them and then some, and the offices off a side hallway were just as spacious, but here the furnishings were kinder on the eyes, more practical and understated. It was no doubt one of the few places in the building that truly reflected the tastes of the occupants; Corvin recognized some of the furniture as being from Lydes originally.
Standing in front of the large window on the rear wall, conferring in quiet tones, were the Emperor himself and another face Corvin recognized, Marquis D'Artignon's. The head of Lucien's advisory council, as far as Corvin understood it. Politics had never been his thing; he tended to think of it as all a little above his head. At least this kind, the kind that happened in richly-appointed offices and formal meetings and ballroom floors.
But discomfort was the furthest thing from his mind, at least for now. Because even dressed like he belonged, Lucien looked more General than Emperor, but the smile on his face was—something else. Corvin had always been hesitant to put an exact name to it, because that could be presumptuous or too... ambitious of him. But he knew he admired this man more than any other, and maybe that was enough to say about it.
"Wonderful," Lucien replied, and as always, Corvin believed it. And as always, he was just the faintest bit surprised before it faded into being pleased instead. "It's good to see you both again, though I'd prefer the circumstances were a little bit more... leisurely."
"If it means I get to visit the Commander, I'll take it." Lia grinned at him, venturing a little further in. "And it's good to see you too, Julien." Her greeting for the Marquis was more reserved, but of course they didn't know him half as well as Lucien, even if all of their interactions had been far more pleasant than either of them would normally expect between nobility and elves. That was more or less the base of the Marquis' beliefs.
Corvin let that speak for the both of them, flashing the Marquis a brief smile. Julien nodded easily. "And you two, of course. It's been quite a while." He'd been present for the last battle at Skyhold, but understandably there hadn't been a lot of time for catching up then.
"I wish we could offer both of you a chance to rest right now." Sophia eased herself slowly into a chair beside Lucien's desk. "But we need you at work as soon as you're able."
"That's no trouble." Lia glanced sideways at Corvin as though to confirm it. "We're headed for the Alienage, right?"
"Yes." Lucien looked grave, an expression he only wore before the Lions' most troubling jobs writ over his face. "We've been getting... reports. Not specific, but worrisome all the same. About unrest in the Alienage. Some of that's to be expected, of course—but lately it seems to have started to boil instead of simmer, and the concern is that it might soon devolve into violence, on one side or the other." He looked to Julien and gave a short nod.
The Marquis expelled a short breath, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall behind him. "The first report came in a month ago. Someone threw stones through the windows of an entire row of storefronts in Riverbend. It might not have been anything but garden variety vandals, except the doorways were smeared with ash. Handprints." He glanced between them. "I don't suppose Estella ever explained to either of you what we learned about Kestrel?"
"I think I got the short version," Corvin replied. Estella had thought it only fair that he know, after—well, after everything. Lia hadn't been there at the time, though; come to think of it he had no idea if she knew much about it at all.
"I know what that symbol represents," Lia said, brow lowering with concern. "The handprints, that is. And frankly it sounds a little more... petty, than what I'd expect of them. What's this about Kestrel?"
"She's one of them," Corvin said, before Julien could. His teeth clenched for a moment, but he forced his jaw to relax. "Stel found out the hard way." The details were a little more extensive, but he figured if she wanted them, they could be saved for later.
Julien inclined his head, picking the thread of conversation back up. "Yes, and I agree with you about the triviality of the vandalism. It was why I thought to connect it to several others—small things like this, perpetrated both in Riverbend and the Alienage. Incidents with little risk for the perpetrators that nevertheless keep residents on edge, feeling unsafe."
"You think that's the goal, then? Making the tension worse, forcing it to a breaking point?"
"I do. But I don't have any proof of that yet. You can understand why it might be a problem to send obvious agents of the crown into that milieu right now—and none of my friends are native to Val Royeaux or familiar with its Alienage and surrounding areas, so they haven't been able to get much, either. It's all very... vague." When Julien said 'friends,' he meant it, but he also meant 'agents;' probably he'd had a few of the elven members of his household asking around. Apparently not very successfully. It was starting to become very clear why Corvin and Lia had been sent for specifically.
"As I recall," Lucien said, "the two of you have several key connections in the neighborhood between you, and I thought it best to try and figure out what was going on the discreet, harmless way. If someone in particular is behind this, I'd like to know what their goal is and why. If it's something we can solve diplomatically, I'd be overjoyed to hear it, but..." he trailed off, lifting his shoulders. "We definitely need to know if it isn't."
"We'll get to the bottom of it," Lia assured them. "I know just where to start."
"You'll be reporting to Julien on this assignment," Sophia said. "While we'd love to oversee this personally, it's far from the only concern we need to deal with. I've instructed the guard that you're to be allowed to come and go from the Palace as you please. We're willing to trust your judgement on this, though; if you come across something that needs to be acted on immediately, do not hesitate."
"We won't." Lia bowed briefly for them. "We had excellent teachers, after all. We'll act as they've taught us to."
"Definitely." Corvin, for one, had no plans to let any of them down.
Honestly, Corvin wasn't even sure that nostalgia was the right word—he'd never been much for notions of home. Every place he'd lived that other people had called home had been busy, crowded, more than a little uncomfortable. Far from the sort of cozy warmth that he figured a word like nostalgia was supposed to cover. Now provoked, on the other hand—that was a good word for Val Royeaux. An assault on the senses, sometimes a giddy deluge of color and sound and light, and at other times just so much noise. Chaos, neatly packaged into bits for the rich and left to sprawl and fester for everyone else.
Really, it was just a matter of time before something gave, but if Lucien asked him to stave that off, he'd hold the proverbial doors closed with both arms and the rest of his body too.
The rhythmic clopping of their horses' hooves on the cobblestones was drowned out entirely by the bustle of traffic in and out of the Sun Gate, thrown wide for the people bleeding into and out of the city. Caravans, painted brightly and covered in dyed, fluttering canvas, were in the minority; most of the trade came in the other way. But here, there were dignitaries aplenty, people dressed in silk and smooth linen in rich hues, soldiers with polished, plumed helms and glittering armor, messengers weaving amongst the horses and carriages like lives depended on their fleetness. Jangling, clanking, creaking, voices mixing in volume and pitch to something he found almost musical in a good mood and aggravating beyond belief in a bad one.
Taking his eyes off the path for a moment, Corvin reached down into one of his saddlebags, pulling out the simple, lined leather mask he used inside the city. Other than the slight suggestion of a feline nose, the buttery white material was largely plain, designed to cover little more than the eyes and the area immediately around them, minimizing damage to his peripheral vision and not obstructing his breathing at all, like some of the full-face ones could do. For now, he held it on his knee, reins held loosely in the other hand. It wouldn't do to just push through, despite the urgency of the visit. Anything could keep for a few more minutes around here.
"Feels kind of strange to be back after all this time," he observed, eyes flicking to the edge of what his visor would let him see, where Lia rode beside him.
She was already masked, a strip of her face concealed by maroon-dyed leather associating her with the mercenary company to which they both belonged. Back when they'd lived here that was all they'd belonged to. She hated wearing it, he knew, but if it was something she needed to do to better deflect attention, she'd do it.
"I'd almost forgotten the sound," she said, lifting her voice only as much as she needed to. "And the volume. Puts Kirkwall to shame. Compared to Lydes or Skyhold, it's..." She shook her head, loose blonde locks sliding back and forth across her upper back. She lacked the word for it, apparently, but it had to be something close to overwhelming. Lydes was a quiet, peaceful place for the Inquisition to move into, its calm a near opposite to the activity of Val Royeaux.
Lia's posture was tense. Corvin could easily remember a time when that would be caused just by riding. Back when they'd first left Kirkwall she'd hardly had much experience at it. It wasn't the horse that put her ill at ease, though, that much was clear. It was the looming gates, the masses of unfamiliar people, the grandeur of the Castle District. Val Royeaux was not often as friendly as it looked when standing before the Sun Gates.
Gradually, traffic flowed past the gate proper, spitting them out in the most glorious district of what he knew some people considered the most beautiful city in the world. Corvin figured that was really an eye of the beholder kind of thing, and his eyes had a bit of trouble seeing beauty here, of all the places.
Still, there were bright spots, and counter to his instincts as it was, the Imperial Palace was one of them. Almost entirely white stone, with thin spires and towers more ornamental than functional. Architecture aside, though, Corvin fancied he could almost feel the warmth and dignity exuding from it, thrown off by its two most famous residents. As he turned his horse, Sable, so that her nose pointed towards it, he tugged off his helm, breathing a sigh of relief even as the chill air his his face. Winter was quite frosty in the region, about as much as it had been growing up.
Running a hand through his dark hair to pull it out of his face, he settled the mask on. He didn't hate them half as much as Lia did—honestly he welcomed the opportunity to be a little less... open. Not that he'd ever say it. The helm was tied to his saddle, and from against his chest he extracted the formal request that had summoned the two of them here, which he presented to the guard at the palace entrance.
It was hard to mistake the Emperor's signature, even if the masks hadn't been enough to identify them as welcome here, and they were waved through with little fanfare, allowed to dismount and pass their horses off to grooms. "All right, now let's see if I remember where their offices are..."
They were subjected to a dizzying level of opulence in the Palace, though apparently it had been even worse back when Celene had called it home. Inside, the halls could be labyrinthine in nature; the building itself had been expanded several times over the ages, Emperors and Empresses trying to outdo their predecessors in splendor, and it led to some floor plans that were intrinsically confusing. Thankfully, Lucien and Sophia had situated their workplace not too far off from the main hall and entryway.
"Oh good, you're here!" Their attention was drawn down the hall to their right, where the Empress herself approached. A fellow outsider to Orlais, she was known to forgo the mask here in her own home, even when greeting guests. Lia's eyes were obviously drawn to the fact that Sophia had grown rather large since the last time any of them had seen her, back in Halamshiral last autumn. She couldn't have more than a month or so before the baby would arrive.
Lia forcibly pulled her eyes away, and dipped into a quick curtsy. "Good to see you, Sophia."
"You can stare if you wish, it's all right. Maker knows I've done enough of it myself." She nodded to Corvin next. "How was the ride? No trouble on the road, I hope?"
Corvin shook his head, donning a personable smile. It wasn't a hard thing to do, for the Empress, someone he'd met for the first time in the Lions' training yard in Kirkwall. "Nothing we couldn't handle." It was true that two elves traveling by themselves with gear as nice as theirs weren't exactly unappealing targets, but the more intelligent would-be thieves backed off before starting anything, recognizing the familiarity with which both he and Lia handled that same gear. It probably helped that he didn't look much like an elf in full armor with a helmet on, being as tall as he was.
"Looking forward to being able to move around like a normal person again, I'm guessing?" Even as he said it, he slowed his stride a little to accommodate the fact that the day was a ways off yet.
"Looking forward to training again, too. It's been a little difficult to keep in practice with the bladework. But yes, there's a great deal I'm eagerly anticipating." She turned to her right, and they neared a pair of spear-armed guards in steel polished such that Corvin could easily make his shape out in their breastplates as he passed. They saluted the Empress, the guardsman on the right reaching out to open the way for them. Sophia offered them a smile as she led the way inside.
"Lucien, Julien. Our cavalry has arrived."
The front room had plenty of space to hold all five of them and then some, and the offices off a side hallway were just as spacious, but here the furnishings were kinder on the eyes, more practical and understated. It was no doubt one of the few places in the building that truly reflected the tastes of the occupants; Corvin recognized some of the furniture as being from Lydes originally.
Standing in front of the large window on the rear wall, conferring in quiet tones, were the Emperor himself and another face Corvin recognized, Marquis D'Artignon's. The head of Lucien's advisory council, as far as Corvin understood it. Politics had never been his thing; he tended to think of it as all a little above his head. At least this kind, the kind that happened in richly-appointed offices and formal meetings and ballroom floors.
But discomfort was the furthest thing from his mind, at least for now. Because even dressed like he belonged, Lucien looked more General than Emperor, but the smile on his face was—something else. Corvin had always been hesitant to put an exact name to it, because that could be presumptuous or too... ambitious of him. But he knew he admired this man more than any other, and maybe that was enough to say about it.
"Wonderful," Lucien replied, and as always, Corvin believed it. And as always, he was just the faintest bit surprised before it faded into being pleased instead. "It's good to see you both again, though I'd prefer the circumstances were a little bit more... leisurely."
"If it means I get to visit the Commander, I'll take it." Lia grinned at him, venturing a little further in. "And it's good to see you too, Julien." Her greeting for the Marquis was more reserved, but of course they didn't know him half as well as Lucien, even if all of their interactions had been far more pleasant than either of them would normally expect between nobility and elves. That was more or less the base of the Marquis' beliefs.
Corvin let that speak for the both of them, flashing the Marquis a brief smile. Julien nodded easily. "And you two, of course. It's been quite a while." He'd been present for the last battle at Skyhold, but understandably there hadn't been a lot of time for catching up then.
"I wish we could offer both of you a chance to rest right now." Sophia eased herself slowly into a chair beside Lucien's desk. "But we need you at work as soon as you're able."
"That's no trouble." Lia glanced sideways at Corvin as though to confirm it. "We're headed for the Alienage, right?"
"Yes." Lucien looked grave, an expression he only wore before the Lions' most troubling jobs writ over his face. "We've been getting... reports. Not specific, but worrisome all the same. About unrest in the Alienage. Some of that's to be expected, of course—but lately it seems to have started to boil instead of simmer, and the concern is that it might soon devolve into violence, on one side or the other." He looked to Julien and gave a short nod.
The Marquis expelled a short breath, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall behind him. "The first report came in a month ago. Someone threw stones through the windows of an entire row of storefronts in Riverbend. It might not have been anything but garden variety vandals, except the doorways were smeared with ash. Handprints." He glanced between them. "I don't suppose Estella ever explained to either of you what we learned about Kestrel?"
"I think I got the short version," Corvin replied. Estella had thought it only fair that he know, after—well, after everything. Lia hadn't been there at the time, though; come to think of it he had no idea if she knew much about it at all.
"I know what that symbol represents," Lia said, brow lowering with concern. "The handprints, that is. And frankly it sounds a little more... petty, than what I'd expect of them. What's this about Kestrel?"
"She's one of them," Corvin said, before Julien could. His teeth clenched for a moment, but he forced his jaw to relax. "Stel found out the hard way." The details were a little more extensive, but he figured if she wanted them, they could be saved for later.
Julien inclined his head, picking the thread of conversation back up. "Yes, and I agree with you about the triviality of the vandalism. It was why I thought to connect it to several others—small things like this, perpetrated both in Riverbend and the Alienage. Incidents with little risk for the perpetrators that nevertheless keep residents on edge, feeling unsafe."
"You think that's the goal, then? Making the tension worse, forcing it to a breaking point?"
"I do. But I don't have any proof of that yet. You can understand why it might be a problem to send obvious agents of the crown into that milieu right now—and none of my friends are native to Val Royeaux or familiar with its Alienage and surrounding areas, so they haven't been able to get much, either. It's all very... vague." When Julien said 'friends,' he meant it, but he also meant 'agents;' probably he'd had a few of the elven members of his household asking around. Apparently not very successfully. It was starting to become very clear why Corvin and Lia had been sent for specifically.
"As I recall," Lucien said, "the two of you have several key connections in the neighborhood between you, and I thought it best to try and figure out what was going on the discreet, harmless way. If someone in particular is behind this, I'd like to know what their goal is and why. If it's something we can solve diplomatically, I'd be overjoyed to hear it, but..." he trailed off, lifting his shoulders. "We definitely need to know if it isn't."
"We'll get to the bottom of it," Lia assured them. "I know just where to start."
"You'll be reporting to Julien on this assignment," Sophia said. "While we'd love to oversee this personally, it's far from the only concern we need to deal with. I've instructed the guard that you're to be allowed to come and go from the Palace as you please. We're willing to trust your judgement on this, though; if you come across something that needs to be acted on immediately, do not hesitate."
"We won't." Lia bowed briefly for them. "We had excellent teachers, after all. We'll act as they've taught us to."
"Definitely." Corvin, for one, had no plans to let any of them down.