Dragon Age Inquisition: Farms and Estates

Discoveries

Naia and Zevran each took a handle of Alistair's trunk and followed the College's servants as they were escorted to the guest chambers. Naia briefly wondered where Evie would be sleeping, and supposed it must be somewhere different when Lady Evelyn's trunk did not follow the King's. She winced. Bad enough that they'd dragged Alistair out to meet with Fiona, now he'd be sleeping alone as well.

The two elves pretended to busy themselves with preparing the King's bedchamber, but the moment the other servants' footsteps faded, they ceased their unpacking and unfolding and exchanged a silent nod. Time to get to work.

They made their way back down the servants' staircase and walked straight for the College's docks, the most likely place for a shipping manifest to be kept. The College maintained a small office in a wooden boathouse, and through its window Naia could see a desk, a single chair, and two cabinets just the right size for storing books and papers. Fortunately no boats besides the King's were expected that day, and the office appeared empty. The door was warded to guard against nosy guests, of course, but the two of them had long since learned how to evade magical traps. It took them only a few more minutes than usual to gain entrance.

Naia headed to the desk as Zevran made for the cabinets. "Locked," she whispered, tugging on a drawer.

"These as well. Everyone is so terribly untrusting these days," Zevran sighed as he and Naia both pulled out their lockpicks.

Naia's efforts to open the largest desk drawer yielded only two Varric Tethras novels and a half-empty bottle of Ferelden single-malt. Zevran had more luck. When he opened the cabinet, he found a stack of bound ledgers, each recording shipments into and out of the College.

Zev passed the ledger on top to Naia; she opened it and began looking through its pages, searching for the most likely dates the artifact might have arrived. "I don't suppose they circled our shipment in red ink and wrote 'evil obelisk' next to it," she sighed.

"Alas, people are rarely that considerate," Zevran said wryly, lifting the second ledger and running a finger down its columns. He looked up at Naia with an arched eyebrow. "Now that we are alone, I am most curious—what do you make of Alistair's new companion?"

"I think I like her. I wasn't sure I would," Naia admitted. "Cecily Trevelyan's nice, but Maker, she and her husband are the most serious people I've ever met, and I've met Sten. I was worried her sister might be sort of—prim. Or another title-hunter. But Evie's got a sense of humor, and she's smart, and she clearly adores Alistair."

She paused. "What do you think?" In some ways she cared about Zev's opinion even more than her own. Her lover had an uncanny gift for taking a person's measure.

The former Crow smiled. "I quite agree. Beauty, intelligence, the rank to marry a King—I think our old friend has finally found his fortune, if he can convince her to wear a crown for him."

Naia paused mid-page. "You think she wouldn't?"

"I think she is adventurous, and still young, and wise enough to see that being Queen of Ferelden is not all fancy gowns and celebratory parades," Zevran said seriously.

The thought of Alistair having his heart broken because of that Maker-blighted crown made Naia's stomach drop. "At least she's here with him now, for this meeting with Fiona," she said, reaching for something like optimism. "Andraste's ass, I wish I'd thought to ask Cecily to get us in here. I don't want Alistair anywhere near that woman."

"He could not have avoided meeting her forever, not with the rank they both hold," Zevran pointed out.

"Would have been worth a try," Naia groused. Then she paused and raised her eyes to his. "Well, what do you know. I think I found our disciple."

Zevran stepped to her side so he could read over her shoulder. Naia pointed to the relevant entries. "Three shipments of artifacts over the past six months, all to a mage named Theron."

Her lover flashed her a playful, predatory grin. "Splendid. Let us see if we can wheedle the location of his rooms out of our fellow servants."

*

This was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake. Why did I come here?

The tour of the College of Enchanters had to rank among the most awkward events Alistair had ever attended, and there had been some spectacularly uncomfortable ones. Fortunately for Evie, she and Rhys's wife Evangeline had taken an almost instant liking to one another; the two of them, at least, were finding things to talk about as they wound through the College's rooms.But Alistair had exhausted his supply of idle conversation about the weather barely fifteen minutes into the tour and was having more and more difficulty feigning interest as Fiona and Rhys took turns pointing out the College's impressive grounds, staircases, and windows. 

And the entire time, Alistair could not stop thinking about the fact that the woman who had given birth to him was standing less than three feet away.

Naia, you and Zev had better be finding something that makes this worth it.

"Well, I have to say the Tower looks better than it did the last time I was here," Alistair said, gamely trying to participate in the conversation as he looked around the library.

Fiona chuckled. "Yes, I imagine so. I've heard the tales of Uldred and his blood mages—many lives would have been lost if not for you and your friends. I met the Hero of Ferelden during my time at Skyhold, you know," she added. "A most impressive woman. I was sorry I could not help her."

Her voice was calm and casual; she sounded for all the world as if she were simply making idle conversation. Does she really care that little?

"Oh, yes. Naia did mention talking with you." Alistair ran a finger down the spine of a nearby book, and pulled it away when he realized that the title was about dung-based agricultural magic. "Shame about the Calling. We're still working on that. I don't suppose you know what happened to those bits of metal Remille gave you?"

"If I did, I would have turned them over to the Wardens long ago." Fiona's voice was just a bit sharp now. "My cure is not a prize I am hoarding for myself."

"Well, I know how these things can slip one's mind. You mean to do something, but before you know it, six months have gone by and it just doesn't seem worth the bother any more."

Even as he said it, he wanted to stop himself, wanted to swallow the words and avoid the issue. But his anger and hurt over Fiona's strange bargain with Naia had lingered too long at the front of his mind; he could not keep it in. 

For a moment he hoped that Fiona had missed his bitter reference, but when he looked at her face, it was pale and stiff. "Six months. Indeed," she replied, her voice dropping just a bit on the last word.

The High Enchanter's chest rose and fell as she drew a deep breath through her nose. She looked around the room, took a step forward, then pulled back her shoulders and turned towards him, her expression resolved. "The Warden-Commander gave you a complete account of our conversation, then."

"Naia's a woman of her word." Alistair's throat constricted as he tried to think of what to say next.

Fiona pressed her lips together. "Perhaps, your Majesty, we should adjourn to my office to discuss this matter further? Since it concerns, ah, Warden business?"

Alistair wanted to decline the offer, but he knew that if he didn't, any minute now he was going to shout out something embarrassing in front of the entire College library. "I think that might be wise."