Sisters of Tevinter

Leashes

     It took a day and a heavy, freezing afternoon to reach Haven. The temperature had dropped and stayed that way overnight, the morning dew turning to slippery ice beneath the companion's feet. 

      Jor nearly collapsed in the snow as the gates of Haven came into view, tall log walls reaching up to greet the silver sky. The scholar's legs hurt. The wounds in her arm stung. The companions parted ways once inside, filing into the tavern or their respective cottages for much needed warmth. 

      Only Dorian stuck to Jor's side, an unwavering presence of cool surety. "You're not going to rest?" 

      Jor strode for the chapel set into the mountain, pushing open the heavy stone doors. She ignored the memory of green rock and moss, the creaking of that horrible chamber. "Later." 

      Dorian smiled slightly. "You'll collapse before you reach the end of the hall." 

      The scholar strode past the candlelit doorways. "I think I'll make it to the War Room."

       "How much would you care to bet?" 

       "Enough. You play Wicked Grace, don't you." 

       The mage laughed. "Doesn't everyone?" 

       "I gamble with my life, never my money." 

      "Hm. Your life must be rather dull." He grinned, his voice low and teasing.

       Jor scoffed, tossing her head. "Oh yes, being blasted out of an exploding temple with magic set in my hand and catapulted through time is horribly boring."

       Dorian gave a theatrical sigh. "I do not envy you your apathy." 

       A smile tugged at Jor's mouth. It was idle chatter-- meaningless, all of it-- and yet the mage seemed to continuously have this effect on her. A dark, intelligent wit that made her feel just slightly less miserable. She raised her voice: "Josephine? You here?" 

        "In here." The ambassador's Orlesian accent was muffled through a door. Jor deviated from her course to press the wooden slats aside. 

        Josephine was settled in her worn and battered chair, poring over piles and piles of letters. As if the last pile Jor had seen had the audacity to grow. Leliana was seated comfortably on a stack of thick, leather bound tomes, gnawing absently at her thumb as she surveyed a long scroll that swept the floor. 

         The scholar's heart dropped into her gut at the sight of the Nightingale, healthy and fair skinned, another aching flood of memories clamoring at the edges of her consciousness. She nearly choked on the words in her throat. "I uh, I have something I should tell you-"

          Leliana looked up curiously. Josephine didn't spare them a glance from her work as she melted wax seals over a candle flame. "Welcome back first of all," the ambassador said warmly. 

          "Thank y-" 

          "How did it go? I see you brought a spellbinder back with you, which seems to be a good sign." Leliana smiled. 

           "About that-"

          Dorian grinned and opened his mouth to speak, just as the door banged open. It was commander Cullen, snowflakes clinging to his hair and the fur of his cloak. "It's frozen hell out there- Oh. Lady Trevelyan-" His expression darkened slightly. "You've brought company." 

           Oh-ho-ho and for you it gets worse. Jor bared her teeth in a strained kind of smile. "Hello, commander, I was just telling-"

          Dorian blinked a few times, dark eyes flitting over the commander assessingly, looking dazed. Practically drooling. Jor elbowed him in the ribs, clearing her throat loudly. The mage jerked, as if waking from a dream. "Oh, that's my cue, isn't it." He grinned charmingly and swept into a wide armed bow. "Dorian Pavus. It's a pleasure to make all of your respectable acquaintances. Your Herald bears good news." 

           "Well-" Jor began hesitantly, her voice taut. 

           "Good news, that'll be a welcome change." Cullen smiled slightly, uncoiling with a sigh as he allowed himself a seat beside Leliana, folding his hands in his lap. 

             Dammit, Dorian. "...I... That is to say-" Jor huffed. "Shit, I can't make this fancy. I haven't slept right in three days, the king kicked the mages out of Redcliffe and I said they could come help us close the Breach. I said that nicely enough." 

          Cullen's eye twitched. Josephine blinked twice and Leliana simply laughed. "Well. That's a start. In a... roundabout sort of way." 

           "You promised an alliance to the rebel mages," Cullen said slowly. 

           "I mean- Alliance- It's kind of a-" Jor watched as the commander's gaze settled coolly on her face. "...Yeah." 

            Again, the templar's eye twitched. It was fascinating really, such a sudden movement for such a small muscle. 

          "And here I thought bygones could be bygones, commander," Dorian ribbed gently. "Believe me, the mages are all too happy to help. When they get here-"

            "Resources are short as it is," Cullen expressed, his voice tight with anger. "And to let mages stay within our ranks- the tension alone- not to mention there will be no one to keep them in line. Lady Trevelyan, you're aware you just set a city full of essentially terrorists loose to roam free in Thedas. The risk of possession- abominations-"

       Dorian settled back to lean against the wall, looking mildly amused as he watched the commander fret. Jor winced at every word, but she eventually held up a hand. "I understand your concerns, commander. Really. But right now? The Breach is first priority. Let the mages have their freedom. If they can't handle it, we'll impose restrictions. A leash isn't always needed- especially not for allies."

         "As much as I adore being compared to a helpless little puppy who teethes on the furniture, I agree with your Lady Trevelyan." Dorian smiled slightly. 

         Cullen frowned. "...Apologies. I understand your point, and your haste to stitch the Veil." 

          Leliana smiled wryly. "Perhaps it would be best to hear a rendition of what happened."

        So Jor launched into a painful explanation of Redcliffe. Dorian interjected helpful details every once in a while, and when the council was all caught up to speed, they were staring at her as if she'd grown a third eye. 

         "And then we ended up back here." Jor smiled weakly, but she wanted to cry. She kept hearing the heavy thud of corpses hitting the floor. 

         Cullen cleared his throat. "...Traversing time itself... and an assassination of the empress... This Elder One seems an influential power." 

          "A threat," Leliana said slowly. "He must be dealt with. I will send messengers to Orlais to apprise the empress. And the business of spreading rifts..."

          "That can be prevented by closing the Breach," Dorian interjected. 

          "I will arrange accommodations for the mages." Josephine smiled slightly, shaking her head as if she could barely believe what she was saying as she slipped out the door.