Dragon Age Inquisition: Farms and Estates

The Obelisk of Fen'Harel

Naia followed Alistair and Lady Evelyn—no, Evie, I'd better get used to that—as they led the way through the palace halls towards Alistair's study. She hung back a bit, watching the two of them together, the way they brushed bits of snow from each others' clothes and hair, their fingers lingering just a bit longer than they needed to.

She knew Alistair had been courting Evie for the better part of a year. It had been hard to imagine at times. Alistair had kept company with several women since the Blight, but none with the sort of rank required of a King's potential wife. As Alistair had remarked more than once, it was hard for a Chantry-raised ex-Warden to find much in common with the average Bann's daughter.

Naia thought she was beginning to understand why her friend had fallen so hard for this particular Bann's daughter, however. Evie was lively and cheerful, her smile easy and her grey eyes bright with affection whenever she looked at Alistair. For his part, Alistair seemed more relaxed with her close; the worry lines on his face that had been deepening over the years were softer, his smile wider.

It's good to see him happy.

But how much of her smile is about him, and how much is about that bloody crown?

When they reached the King's study, Alistair paused to unlock it, only to discover that the door was slightly ajar. With a sigh, he pushed it the rest of the way open. "I see that you picked my lock, again. And you found the liquor cabinet."

"Aha! Well met, my noble King of Ferelden. You are most generous to keep Antivan spirits in your study for me." Zevran swept an elaborate bow as the three entered the room, somehow managing to spill not a drop from the bottle as he did.

"It's for visiting Antivan dignitaries, actually," Alistair groused, but without real heat. "Evie, this is Zevran Arainai. Naia keeps him around for some reason. Zevran, this is Lady Evelyn Trevelyan."

Zevran bowed his head in Evie's direction. "It is a singular pleasure, my Lady."

"Likewise," Evie said, bobbing a demure little curtsy. "I look forward to seeing how many of Alistair's stories about you are true."

Zevran tilted his head back with a merry laugh. "Beautiful and mischievous. You have fortune beyond your deserving, my old friend."

"You would know," Alistair retorted wryly as he locked the door. "Now then. Don't keep us in suspense. Shall we hear what this Nightingale business is about?"

Naia unwrapped her cloak and settled into one of Alistair's comfortable chairs by the fire. Zevran poured himself a tiny snifter of Antivan spirits—more to tease Alistair than for any other reason, Naia suspected—and sat in the chair at her side. She waited a beat for Alistair and Evie to take their own seats before beginning.

She decided to get to the point as quickly as possible. "I need you to get us into the College of Enchanters at Lake Calenhad."

Alistair blinked; his eyebrows knit together. "What? Why? Not that I won't help you, it's just ... why?"

"About a month ago, one of Dorian Pavus's contacts got wind of a robbery in Minrathous. A magister was killed when someone broke in to steal his collection of antiquities." The memory of the burgled mansion, its rich carpets covered in glass and blood, rose in her mind's eye. It looked like an amateur job, but it was so aggressively amateurish that it almost had to be the work of professionals, and killing a magister was no easy task. Fen'Harel has some dangerous allies.

She continued her story. "There's one item that never found its way to the black market. It's an ancient obelisk—a small one, about two feet high—carved with a bunch of elven runes and the image of Fen'Harel."

"At first we thought it had merely been broken in the robbery. Burglars are not always the most careful of criminals, after all," Zevran continued.

"I beg your pardon." Naia laid her hand over her heart in mock offense.

"Except, of course, for the fabled Dark Wolf, whose identity remains a mystery to this very day," Zevran amended smoothly.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Right. You're both adorable. Can we get back to the obelisk?"

"As you command, my King." Zevran toasted him with his glass of spirits. "We soon discovered that the obelisk was shipped out of the Imperium in a most secretive manner—and it is bound, I am afraid, for the College. We suspect one of the College's mages is working with Fen'Harel."

"What does it do?" Evie asked practically.

"We are not certain." Zevran frowned, annoyed by the gap in his knowledge. "The dead collector fancied himself a researcher, and bought only items that he thought might have power. It may do nothing. But somehow I do not think so."

Evie grimaced. "I suppose that means dealing with the College's Grand Enchanter." She glanced over at Alistair with a concerned frown.

Naia sat back in her chair, torn between relief and surprise. Did he tell her, too? "Yes. And Fiona's been touchy about outsiders—too many angry people still blame mages for everything that's happened since Kirkwall. If we show up on her doorstep and say 'let us search your tower so we can figure out which one of you is in an elven apocalypse cult,' I don't think we're going to get a warm welcome."

"No, I imagine not." Alistair's voice was flat and unreadable; not even Naia could tell what he was thinking.

"And that's where you come in, Alistair," Naia finished. She hated asking him to do anything even remotely related to Fiona, but it really was the best solution. "Can you use your Kingly influence to get us inside? They sort of owe you, since you revoked the rebels' exile in order to let them have Kinloch Hold."

"I can do better than that." Alistair stood and crossed to his desk. "Let's see. Somewhere in this mess—ah, yes."

From the depths of a bottom drawer, Alistair pulled out a large, neatly folded letter. Something about it looked expensive to Naia, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what—maybe it was the large blood-red wax seal.

"This fancy parchment invites the King of Ferelden to personally visit the new College of Enchanters." Alistair unfolded it and examined its contents. "They sent it over a year ago, but it doesn't say the offer expires. I assume I can bring friends. You can usually bring a lot of people along if you're King."

Naia and Zevran exchanged an alarmed glance. Across the room, Naia could see Evie looking between them, trying to guess how much they knew about Alistair's relationship to the College's leader.

Alistair set the invitation on the desk and sighed loudly. "Let me save everyone some time. Yes, everyone here knows that Fiona's my mother. But no, I've never talked to her about it, and no, I never plan to. And yes, I am perfectly capable of going in and out of the Circle Tower without making a scene. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a King on an official state visit to someone who owes me quite a lot of political favors. Nothing more."

"There could be other ways to get inside the College," Evie said quietly. "Fiona and Vivienne are both trying to get Cecily to pick a side between the College and the new Circle. If Cecy asks Fiona I'm certain she'd let me visit."

"What, and miss a return to scenic Lake Calenhad, where I spent a delightful day and a half imprisoned in the Fade?" Alistair folded the parchment back up with a flourish. "No, I've got my heart set on this trip now. When do we leave?"