Sisters of Tevinter

Madame De Fer

    The marquis staggered to his feet, hanging his head, shivering pitifully as he stumbled for the doors, the nobility giving him a wide berth. 

      "A duel with the newly christened Inquisitor would not have restored your honor," Madame De Fer called after him liltingly. "Your past failure in battle will continue to stain your repute. Give your grandmother my regards." 

     The doors slammed shut. 

    There was a beat of stunned silence. Then the music began again, nobles turned back to their conversations. Cassandra sheathed her sword. The First Enchantress beckoned to Jor. Stunned, the Inquisitor could do nothing but comply. Her footsteps tinkled merrily in the remaining ice crystals on the floor. Madame De Fer began to ascend the stairs once more. "I do apologize for keeping you waiting, Inquisitor. I had matters to attend to." 

    "I understand completely," Jor assured her, gesturing with a flattened palm behind her back for Cassandra to hold her position. She followed the enchanter up the stairs to the landing and into a moonlit study. "I thank you for your invitation."

   Vivienne pushed open the glass window to let in a breath of fresh air. "Of course." 

    "May I ask what exactly prompted this meeting?" Jor smiled slightly, folding her arms. 

    "My dear, I have seldom missed an opportunity to assert myself." The enchantress took a seat in a highbacked chair beside the window. "I became an advisor to Empress Celene through much hard work. Before me, the position of first enchanter was little more than a glorified court jester. As you have seen, I am much more than that." Her tone was calm, unapologetic. 

      Impressed, Jor took a seat across from her. "That much is clear. How do your ambitions relate to the Inquisition?" 

    "As you've no doubt noticed, your little band of militant conjurors and spies is still a mystery to many. You have yet to truly bloom in fame and influence-- as well as popularity. To some you are still blasphemers of the highest caliber. I believe I can help you. In addition to this, I find the direction the royal court pulls us in to be distasteful and lacking in panache. Dishonesty has made its way to the feet of the Orlesian throne, much has yet to be decided, though the civil war begins to rage anew. The Orlesian army follows Duke Gaspard, the empress' ambitious cousin. Too ambitious. I fear he will soon overstep his boundary." 

     The assassination of Empress Celene. Blood on green stone, silver death. Jor blinked rapidly, clenching her fists in her lap to stifle the now familiar wave of nausea. "Valid concerns. I had no knowledge of such a war."

    "The empress would much rather keep such things quiet, muffled behind gilded walls."

    "I see." Jor cleared her throat and blinked away the images of Cassandra's bloody shield, the claws on the stone, the black blood from Felix's neck, Kaisen's matted red hair--

     "Are you quite well, my dear? You look pale." 

    "Yes." Jor grasped clarity, clinging to the enchantress' voice with desperation. She gave an unsteady smile. "Thank you, Madame, and I do believe the Inquisition would be humbled to have such an influencer join our cause." She rose and extended her gloved hand. 

      Vivienne gave a small, wry smile and did not reach to return the gesture. Blinking, Jor lowered her hand. Oh. 

       "Thank you, my dear Inquisitor. You will be hearing from me quite soon." 

      Jor descended the stairs alone, flushed and weary. She passed the guests and the servants, nodding to the guards and beckoning to Cassandra as the doors swung open to let them pass into the warm night air. They walked for a few silent moments over the arcing bridge, lamplight glittering on the water below them. 

       Cassandra spoke first. "You have yet to be frozen. I take it you allowed the enchanter to join the Inquisition?" A small smile tugged at the Seeker's mouth. 

      Jor melted slightly, laying a hand on her friend's shoulder briefly as she walked. "Not frozen, just dazzled. Yeah, she seemed eager to add her... panache." The Inquisitor sighed. "I figure it couldn't hurt. She mentioned the civil war?" 

    Cassandra frowned. "I had yet to realize the conflict had risen to such a term. I knew an heir would need to be selected but..." 

     Jor swallowed. "In... In that darkened future, Corypheus seized power after the empress' assassination. You believe an heir would fill such a gap?"

      "If needed. Though no one would devote such time and loyalty to an heir as they do today's empress. Celene has garnered respect through diplomacy and justice for many years." 

       "So not a solid solution." 

      "Very few solutions can be considered fool proof in these unprecedented times, Inquisitor." 

       Jor nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. They continued down the cobbled street, rounding a high estate wall. "Ugh, I smell like cologne and death."

      The Seeker chuckled. "You danced with three men and at least one lady of the court. The stench of politics will stain your skin for a month or more." 

      The Inquisitor smiled. "How was the wine?" 

      "Dry. Flavorless."

      "Hm. Did you enjoy yourself?" 

      "I enjoyed watching you avoid personal queries and make eyes at the man in the bird mask." 

      Jor scoffed. "You're worse than Dorian. I did not make eyes." 

     Cassandra grinned-- it was a surprisingly impish gesture. "He was rather handsome. Did he give you his name?" 

      "Lord Albion, junior minister of the court."

      "You'll do well to remember that one."

      Jor blushed, grinning as she shook her head. "He was arrogant."

      "If I am not very much mistaken, I'd say you have a taste for arrogant men."

     The Inquisitor barked out a laugh. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

      Cassandra smiled slightly. "Nothing, Inquisitor. Forgive me." 

     They turned another corner. The road was quiet here, shadowed by balconies and high walls. Gates to wealthy properties stretched on in either direction, they were behind some kind of mansion that would eventually navigate to the main road. "Halt!"