Dragon Age Inquisition: Farms and Estates

What the Future Will Hold

It was a familiar scene at Skyhold—four figures standing around the war table, the map of Thedas spread between them. Uncharacteristically, however, the room was silent.

Josephine had opened the meeting by handing them each a copy of a document: an official-looking writ sent from Orlais, stamped with the seal of the Divine's Exalted Council. She had also handed them two further letters—one bearing the Arl of Redcliffe's seal, the other from Duke Cyril de Montfort.

Josephine waited patiently for the others to finish reading, although by now they all knew each other so well that she was unlikely to be surprised by their responses.

Commander Cullen perused his copy with a sour look on his handsome features; his expression only grew more irritated as he made his way to the end. The Iron Bull, promoted to spymaster after Divine Victoria's coronation, looked mildly amused by the wording but not at all surprised by the contents. Inquisitor Cecily Trevelyan was not sure what her own expression looked like. She had known this was brewing, and felt both anxious and slightly relieved that it would now come to a head.

When she was certain they had all read the writ and the letters, Josephine cleared her throat delicately. "As you know, Divine Victoria has worked to placate the Council for some months now. But the political cost becomes greater every day." She cut off Cullen's beseeching look with a gentle shake of her head. "I'm afraid there is no avoiding it. We must go to the Exalted Council."

"Why can't we go six bloody months without being summoned to Orlais?" Cecily could tell that her husband was trying to keep his tone light, but his genuine outrage was clear—at least to her. "Even I can read between the lines of Duke Cyril's letter. Aid, cooperation, alliance—pah. Orlais wants the Inquisition under their thumb."

Josephine nodded. "They do indeed. And yet, Ferelden may be our greater concern. Inquisitor, they would see us disbanded." Josephine's gray eyes were serious, her face grim. "Arl Teagan has been making impassioned speeches about the Inquisition's continued presence in Skyhold, the army he claims is looming on Ferelden's border."

"We are on their border," Bull pointed out, gesturing vaguely at the Ferelden section of the war table map. "And we are kind of intimidating. I can see why they might think we're looming." He grinned. "I like to think I loom all by myself."

Cecily smiled at that. She was the only one who did.

Cullen's mouth tightened, making his scar stand white against the day-old growth of his beard. "We are a disciplined peacekeeping force with ties to the Chantry, and we have given the Ferelden bannorn no cause for concern. And let's not forget that two years ago Ferelden needed the Inquisition to evict a pack of magisters from Redcliffe. How Redcliffe's Arl has the gall to demand that we disband to suit his whim is beyond me." He slapped his copy of Teagan's letter down on the war table.

Josephine looked as if she agreed with him, but her natural diplomacy prevented her from saying so. "Unfortunately Teagan's voice is not one to be taken lightly. I doubt he speaks only for himself in this matter."

Cecily nodded; from everything she knew, the Arl was one of King Alistair's most trusted advisors. "And the Arl's concerns are not unreasonable," she pointed out. "In fact I—I rather think he's right."

Absolute stillness fell over the Council room.

The Iron Bull didn't bother to hide his surprise; he raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms, the look Cecily had come to think of as his tell-me-more pose. Josephine's mouth dropped open just a fraction, which meant she was in utter shock. Cecily steeled herself to look over at her husband. Cullen was looking at her as if he'd never seen her before. Shock and anger and hurt each flashed through his eyes; they were replaced by simple bafflement.