What Secrets Await

Chapter 28: The Right Mask

Maeva finally collapsed onto her bed, bone-tired. At dawn, nary five hours away, the first of the caravans would depart for Orlais. Be ready and packed , they said. Sure, that was easily done, it pretty much was already. Get some rest, she was told. No, impossible.

The cushy mattress that had once felt indulgent now brought little comfort. Unlike the last time she'd travelled with the Inquisition, the training she was subjected to this time was not physical but mental.

She'd been a part of a small group of other unlikely characters that had either never seen Orlais, or who would be potentially speaking to anyone in the Winter Palace. The other folks varied from nubile handmaidens from the east to seasoned burly recruits from the Storm Coast. Hours and hours of listening to Josephine teach on the hierarchy of Orlesian nobility, and 'crucial' etiquette, was more tiring than the combat training she'd been subjected to before the Western Approach.

She'd also helped pack the caravans, which meant carrying heavy crates and chests at the bidding of someone who apparently was in charge. The carts were packed, then unpacked due to not having been packed correctly, then re-packed, then adjusted more in trying to make room for late-remembered items.

Exhausted though she was, her addled mind was cluttered with thoughts that spun about her in eddies. Her boots were still on, as were her belt and pants. She was tempted to leave them on just so she wouldn't have to move. Tiredly she ran her hands over her face, releasing an audible groan.

In the end she forced herself up and took off her boots and outer clothes. Tucked comfortably into the bed she tried to make her mind go blank. She tried harder and harder. She slowed and deepened her breathing. Gradually her mind calmed and her focus unclenched. Eyes shut in the dark, she started to fall back into outer levels of consciousness.

The Veil seeped forth like smoke. Awareness became clouded and obscure. Her body twitched a few times then stilled, released into sleep. An unknown time later the whispers and colors began.

There were many sleepers and dreamers, but some people were still up at this late hour. Only a few walls away from her room she sensed someone with a very powerful mind. They did not sleep nor dream but their thoughts were loud in a different way than others. Their thoughts had a profound quality, like a savory flavor or aromatic herb, and it resonated through the Veil like ripples on water. Panning out from her room above the garden courtyard she evaluated their personal signatures. It was not the Duchesse de Fer, not the Nightingale, not Varric...

__________

Solas found a scribbled note on his desk in the Rotunda. It was by Ellana's hand, requesting his presence in her quarters later to discuss Veilfire runes. He smirked as his thoughts mused on her for a while.

Their romantic relationship had officially begun, which meant Solas preferred they keep it confidential. A few times now they'd had clandestine meetings to kiss, caress and whisper, but privacy was becoming scarce amid the growing populace of Skyhold. In the rush of preparations for Orlais they'd not been together in days.

The rest of Skyhold was asleep or busy packing for the next day's departure. He walked up the Great Hall, trying to look relaxed but still step with intent. While Ellana's message about runes was legitimate at face value he still felt awkward entering the large door to the tower stairwell, wary of any witnesses.

To cement his purpose for visiting the Inquisitor, Solas also brought a missive he'd received via Leliana. It was an update on rift activity detected in Halamshiral, therefore relevant and acceptable for urgent discussion.

How many more excuses do you need, old man?

Once in the tower stairwell and away from the eyes of others he fade-stepped himself upward. The use of magic was certainly not forbidden within Skyhold, but there was no sense in displaying it carelessly. Two hops put him in front of her door. He rapped thrice then opened without awaiting response, knowing she expected him.