Cyrus suspected that Redcliffe had seen much better days.
As far as heād bothered to assess the situation, Arl Teagan wasnāt currently in residence, though much of what remained of the southern mage forces were. At least those organized enough to deserve the title forces, barely though they may have qualified. Heād arrived with the second group of Inquisition people, about an hour or so after Estella and her advance group, and had since been filled in on the situation. By the time theyād gotten to it, heād not been surprised to hear the name Cassius Viridius come upāhe had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on here, though if he was right, then Cassius was in fact a much more desperate man than Cyrus had previously taken him to be. Then againā¦ two years could change a person. They had certainly changed him.
He hadnāt left much choice for anyone when he said heād be attending the negotiations. When the unilateral pronouncement didnāt seem to be taken especially well, heād explained as much as he felt he needed to, which was that Cassius was formerly his master, in the tutelage sense of the term, and that he would be considerably more likely to pay attention to what Cyrus had to say than any upstart southern religious movement, which was all true, especially because there was quite a bit he could hold over his former teacherās head in this situation, with or without revealing it to anyone else.
The inn they were supposed to be meeting him at was near the top of the central hill in the town, though still a tier below the castle and the Chantry, of course. He, Estella, Romulus, and the Lady Marceline were to be the negotiators, though he suspected that the task in question would inevitably fall to him when the good Comtesseās kid-glove tactics proved utterly fruitless as he knew they would. Magisters didnāt negotiate the same way southern nobility didāat least not when they knew they were winning. But that was a piece of advice he kept to himself right now. It would become evident with due time.
The air still carried a chill, but he found that it didnāt bother him nearly as much as Haven did, of course, and heād actually swapped out his cloak for a less-warm but much nicer one, in the rich indigo and sable of his house. Details were rarely insignificant when one played this little game, after all. They reached the innās entrance with Cyrus in front, and though he might have preferred to enter first, he understood what was necessary here, and so he reached for the handle of the door, turning back over his shoulder to glance at the others, letting his eyes fall last of all on Estella.
āShow no weakness, unless you fancy being devoured.ā As if to soften the cryptic ominousness of the words, he flashed a smile, bright and fey, and narrowed his eyes. āEveryone ready?ā
Romulus did not appear ready in the slightest. In fact, he looked deeply unsettled, as though he wasn't sure at all what to do with his hands, or his eyes. "Perhaps I shouldn't be here," he said. The suggestion was given to the group at large, as though he didn't want to direct it at anyone in particular.
"You are the Herald. You have every right to be present. Whether you are or you are not is entirely up to you," Lady Marceline answered. Ever since they had found out that the Free Mages were not expecting them in the slightest, Marceline had seemed to be less than happy. She turned back to Cyrus and nodded, a hard line present in her frown.
āIād, um. Iād feel better if you were,ā Estella said, her tone considerably less brusque than Lady Marcelineās. āIām not sure I want to be the only one of us standing in front of a Magister. The last time I did something like that, the other party was insulted. Er, butā¦ donāt let me make up your mind.ā She shook her head, her expression clearly uneasy.
Romulus was at least able to meet Estella's eyes when she spoke, and while he was clearly still in an anxious mood about everything, he managed to nod, and steady himself a bit. "Let's go, then."
Marceline allowed herself a small sigh before collecting herself. The annoyance she'd wore melted away to leave her face completely neutral, and once more made it difficult to see exactly how she was feeling and what she was thinking.
Personally, Cyrus thought it might have been somewhat wiser for Romulus to not be present, because he didnāt know what Cassius knew or didnāt know about that situation, and it was better to enter any negotiation with all the information on oneās own side, but because it was Estellaās suggestion, he offered no protest, only shrugging. āAll right then. Stellulam, dear, you and Romulus should enter first. You are, after all, in charge.ā His eyes glittered with contained amusement, and he grasped the handle of the door, sweeping it open with an almost-playful flourish and gesturing the others in ahead of him.
The inside of the inn was mostly unoccupied, as promised, but at a table in the back, several people were gathered. Only four, actually, which made their own number a very wise, if coincidental, confluence. Two of the men were guards, that much was obvious from the way they stood flanking the chair that faced the door. The third, also standing in a somewhat deferential position, was the former Grand Enchanter, but Cyrus could muster no pity for her, despite her obvious misery. Heād never been good at pity in general, and tended to find it even more difficult when someone else had backed themselves into such an obvious corner.
The fourth party had a bearing and a face he knew better than his own, which he supposed was the product of years of familiarity. Magister Cassius Viridius was an elderly man who looked like one, his face lined with age, but even in spite of that, he had a certain distinctive vitality about him, one that was evident in the way he moved: assured, confident, smooth and graceful. He was powerful and exceptionally aware of that power, and unafraid of letting it be known to anyone else. As the party entered, he looked up and over towards the door, an eyebrow ascending his forehead, and he reached up, pushing his hood down onto his shoulders, his bald pate catching some of the light. He was, of course, wearing those gods-awful robes that were apparently still the fashion in Tevinter, the ones that practically screamed āsinister mage lord.ā Cyrus had always thought they were a bit ridiculous, but everyone had their foibles, he supposed. Heād at least dressed for the occasion, in House Viridius green and gold.
āWell, well, well.ā The Magisterās eyes scanned sharply over each of those present, though they lingered not long at all on Marceline. The other three, however, were of paramount interest to him, though of course they would be. āSo itās true what they say: the 'Heralds of Andraste,' one of our own, and one of our own.ā His tone changed on the last words, and his eyes narrowed on Romulus.
The Herald froze entirely, as though Cassius had placed a spell on him with the words alone, though of course he needed nothing more to achieve such an effect. His hood was down, features fully exposed, and it was clear to see that he was struggling to determine what to say. Clearly his issue was that Cassius did not seem to know that Romulus remained with the status of Herald only because his daughter commanded it.
"My trusted blade," said a voice from behind them, and Romulus instantly paled even further, turning his head. "Your freedom has made you bold, I see. I will admit, I did not expect this from you." Chryseis Viridius descended the stairs from the inn's second floor, gloved hand trailing lightly atop the railing. She was dressed as her father was, in green and gold, her own robes a bit tighter about her, with clearly some modifications made for stylistic purposes. The neck was cut lower, the skirt asymmetrically shorn, and the metal covering her fingers and belt intricately engraved. Her blonde hair was done up in an elaborate but tightly wound bun. Her lips wore a confident smile.
Romulus had turned fully away from Cassius, lowered his eyes slightly, and was about to speak, when Chryseis cut him off, continuing her approach. "Do not presume to speak. I have asked you no question. I trust you have enjoyed your little escapade. It will not last forever." Romulus forced himself to meet her eyes, and apparently decided it was best to remain silent. The smile disappeared from Chryseis, replaced by a little smirk, her eyes agleam as they found Cyrus instead.
She worked her way around the group to stand at her father's side, her hand lightly touching his upper arm only momentarily before it was removed. "Cyrus. Wonderful to see you again. The runaway's life is treating you well, I hope?"
āAh, Chryseis. I confess I have missed the rather lovely sight of your face.ā Cyrusās answering smile was every bit as sly, but it was true that her presence didnāt make him uncomfortable in the least, quite unlike poor Romulus. Of course, it was clear to him what game she was playing, with words like thatāit would appear she desired her father to believe that her blade did not have her leave to be here, doing as he was doing, when of course they knew differently.
So Cyrus did something heād always been exceptionally good at doing, and drew the attention away from someone else and onto himself. āBut what a surprise, to see that the most illustrious House Viridius has joined us in the south, hm? This really isnāt the season for it, I must admit.ā He made eye contact with Cassius, his smile inching wider. āImagine, if you will, how interested I was to hear that Magister Cassius had managed to indenture most of the mages left in the region in one fell swoop. Truly a master stroke, executed with a most uncanny timing.ā The emphasis he gave the last word was so delicate it could easily have been missed, but Cassius clearly did not miss it.
āWhat can I say? A Magister with no apprentice suddenly finds himself with a great deal of time to think down other avenues.ā The old man lifted his shoulders in a shrug. āAnd what luck, that such avenues might give him opportunity to meet with an Inquisition. Iām curious: what would such an organization wish from me?ā
Lady Marceline apparently decided that that was her cue. She laid a hand on Estella's shoulder and gently guided her so that she could step forward, but she never did try to overshadow her. In fact, she stood side-by-side with the woman, a warm and friendly smile on her lips directed toward Chryseis and Cassius. "I will be frank," she began, her voice holding the same warmth her smile held. "The Inquisition did not expect to be speaking to Magisters of such... renown," she said, dipping into a low curtsey.
When she finished, she held her hands on top of each other and her body language shifted in an attempt to entreaty them. "Lord Cassius, Lady Chryseis," she began, glancing at each in turn. "You of course know of the Breach that hangs in the sky above Haven. It is... a danger if it is allowed to continue to exist as such. All the Inquisition asks for is the Free Mages' aid in helping to close it. With your permissions, of course."
She smiled again and tilted her head forward, "No doubt being the man who had helped put Thedas at ease would aid in your politics back home in Minrathous, yes?"
Cyrus suppressed a grimace, because he knew sheād said the wrong thing. Cassiusās smile only confirmed it. It was polite, indifferent, and utterly unmoved. āI fear you understand little of politics in Minrathous, milady. These mages are not free, not in the strict sense, anyway. I am afraid they have promised me their service in return for my protection, and at present, I have decided it is in their best interest to return with me to the Imperium as quickly as possible. There have always been few good places for them in these lands, after all.ā
It was almost admirable, how he managed to sound like he actually gave a damn. Cyrus, of course, knew that Cassius was just as full of shit on this count as Marceline was, pretending to be pleased to be speaking to Imperial Magisters. It was almost funny to watch, but then of course he had to go and make it no longer funny at all by shifting his attention to Estella.
āI am sure that is something with which my lady Herald can completely agree, can she not? Iāve heard about Kirkwall; most unfortunate, what Templars in these regions are capable of. Utter madness, really. One could hardly blame a mage for seeking refuge where their abilities, however grand or humble, are celebrated rather than reviled.ā Cyrus clenched his teeth.
āI can think of no one who would not celebrate were the Breach closed,ā Estella replied, her tone careful, her face smooth and passive. āAnd I think that if you truly cared how mages were perceived here, you would let mages be the root of the solution.ā She lifted her chin slightly, almost as if daring him to contradict her. Marceline simply continued to smile, though this time, it was genuine.
Cyrus did not bother to conceal his own. She was absolutely brilliant, she really was. It was so very perfect, reallyāno one could have managed to make that sound so genuine except for her, he was certain, and Cassius was left in the rather unenviable position of having to admit he didnāt care about the mages, or that he wanted the Breach to remain open, which was an intriguing possibility that Cyrus filed away for consideration. He suspected both were true. Of course, admitting the first would cost him considerably less, but heād no longer be able to pretend to the moral high ground. This would be seen for exactly what it was: an opportunistic power-grab.
That appeared to be the route heād chosen. Cassiusās polite smile vanished, replaced with a stern expression Cyrus knew all too well. It was the expression heād usually received when his master was about to commence ignoring him until heād gained command of whatever he was supposed to learn that week, which meant he was extremely displeased. āIām afraid Iāve little concern for such affairs. I am not the one with an Inquisition, after all. Unless you can offer me something worthwhile in exchange for my loan of my servants, this discussion is quite over. We will be in the castle for a while longerāperhaps you shall devise some new terms in the meantime.ā Cassius stood, gesturing to his guards and Fiona, who all fell in step behind him as he made for the exit.
Chryseis remained behind, her back leaned gently against one of the inn's wooden supports. Her expression had not changed as her father's had, instead showing a hint of amusement as her eyes followed Cassius until he was out the door with all of his personal guards. When the door was firmly shut behind him, her eyes fell to Estella, her smile still in place. "Words well chosen. But make no mistake, you are all in great danger by being here. A danger I believe only Cyrus can understand the magnitude of." The smile slowly faded.
She stepped away from the wooden support, coming a little closer to them. "I must remain in my father's presence until night falls, to avoid suspicion. Meet me in the Chantry tonight, if you will, so that we can... catch up." She flashed a smile briefly at Cyrus, before walking around the side of the group and lightly grabbing Romulus by the chin, between her thumb and forefinger. "I know you at least will follow my wish." She released him, and Romulus immediately averted his eyes downwards.
"Domina."
"Until tonight, then," she said, striding towards the door. "Take care, Inquisition."
As far as heād bothered to assess the situation, Arl Teagan wasnāt currently in residence, though much of what remained of the southern mage forces were. At least those organized enough to deserve the title forces, barely though they may have qualified. Heād arrived with the second group of Inquisition people, about an hour or so after Estella and her advance group, and had since been filled in on the situation. By the time theyād gotten to it, heād not been surprised to hear the name Cassius Viridius come upāhe had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on here, though if he was right, then Cassius was in fact a much more desperate man than Cyrus had previously taken him to be. Then againā¦ two years could change a person. They had certainly changed him.
He hadnāt left much choice for anyone when he said heād be attending the negotiations. When the unilateral pronouncement didnāt seem to be taken especially well, heād explained as much as he felt he needed to, which was that Cassius was formerly his master, in the tutelage sense of the term, and that he would be considerably more likely to pay attention to what Cyrus had to say than any upstart southern religious movement, which was all true, especially because there was quite a bit he could hold over his former teacherās head in this situation, with or without revealing it to anyone else.
The inn they were supposed to be meeting him at was near the top of the central hill in the town, though still a tier below the castle and the Chantry, of course. He, Estella, Romulus, and the Lady Marceline were to be the negotiators, though he suspected that the task in question would inevitably fall to him when the good Comtesseās kid-glove tactics proved utterly fruitless as he knew they would. Magisters didnāt negotiate the same way southern nobility didāat least not when they knew they were winning. But that was a piece of advice he kept to himself right now. It would become evident with due time.
The air still carried a chill, but he found that it didnāt bother him nearly as much as Haven did, of course, and heād actually swapped out his cloak for a less-warm but much nicer one, in the rich indigo and sable of his house. Details were rarely insignificant when one played this little game, after all. They reached the innās entrance with Cyrus in front, and though he might have preferred to enter first, he understood what was necessary here, and so he reached for the handle of the door, turning back over his shoulder to glance at the others, letting his eyes fall last of all on Estella.
āShow no weakness, unless you fancy being devoured.ā As if to soften the cryptic ominousness of the words, he flashed a smile, bright and fey, and narrowed his eyes. āEveryone ready?ā
Romulus did not appear ready in the slightest. In fact, he looked deeply unsettled, as though he wasn't sure at all what to do with his hands, or his eyes. "Perhaps I shouldn't be here," he said. The suggestion was given to the group at large, as though he didn't want to direct it at anyone in particular.
"You are the Herald. You have every right to be present. Whether you are or you are not is entirely up to you," Lady Marceline answered. Ever since they had found out that the Free Mages were not expecting them in the slightest, Marceline had seemed to be less than happy. She turned back to Cyrus and nodded, a hard line present in her frown.
āIād, um. Iād feel better if you were,ā Estella said, her tone considerably less brusque than Lady Marcelineās. āIām not sure I want to be the only one of us standing in front of a Magister. The last time I did something like that, the other party was insulted. Er, butā¦ donāt let me make up your mind.ā She shook her head, her expression clearly uneasy.
Romulus was at least able to meet Estella's eyes when she spoke, and while he was clearly still in an anxious mood about everything, he managed to nod, and steady himself a bit. "Let's go, then."
Marceline allowed herself a small sigh before collecting herself. The annoyance she'd wore melted away to leave her face completely neutral, and once more made it difficult to see exactly how she was feeling and what she was thinking.
Personally, Cyrus thought it might have been somewhat wiser for Romulus to not be present, because he didnāt know what Cassius knew or didnāt know about that situation, and it was better to enter any negotiation with all the information on oneās own side, but because it was Estellaās suggestion, he offered no protest, only shrugging. āAll right then. Stellulam, dear, you and Romulus should enter first. You are, after all, in charge.ā His eyes glittered with contained amusement, and he grasped the handle of the door, sweeping it open with an almost-playful flourish and gesturing the others in ahead of him.
The inside of the inn was mostly unoccupied, as promised, but at a table in the back, several people were gathered. Only four, actually, which made their own number a very wise, if coincidental, confluence. Two of the men were guards, that much was obvious from the way they stood flanking the chair that faced the door. The third, also standing in a somewhat deferential position, was the former Grand Enchanter, but Cyrus could muster no pity for her, despite her obvious misery. Heād never been good at pity in general, and tended to find it even more difficult when someone else had backed themselves into such an obvious corner.
The fourth party had a bearing and a face he knew better than his own, which he supposed was the product of years of familiarity. Magister Cassius Viridius was an elderly man who looked like one, his face lined with age, but even in spite of that, he had a certain distinctive vitality about him, one that was evident in the way he moved: assured, confident, smooth and graceful. He was powerful and exceptionally aware of that power, and unafraid of letting it be known to anyone else. As the party entered, he looked up and over towards the door, an eyebrow ascending his forehead, and he reached up, pushing his hood down onto his shoulders, his bald pate catching some of the light. He was, of course, wearing those gods-awful robes that were apparently still the fashion in Tevinter, the ones that practically screamed āsinister mage lord.ā Cyrus had always thought they were a bit ridiculous, but everyone had their foibles, he supposed. Heād at least dressed for the occasion, in House Viridius green and gold.
āWell, well, well.ā The Magisterās eyes scanned sharply over each of those present, though they lingered not long at all on Marceline. The other three, however, were of paramount interest to him, though of course they would be. āSo itās true what they say: the 'Heralds of Andraste,' one of our own, and one of our own.ā His tone changed on the last words, and his eyes narrowed on Romulus.
The Herald froze entirely, as though Cassius had placed a spell on him with the words alone, though of course he needed nothing more to achieve such an effect. His hood was down, features fully exposed, and it was clear to see that he was struggling to determine what to say. Clearly his issue was that Cassius did not seem to know that Romulus remained with the status of Herald only because his daughter commanded it.
"My trusted blade," said a voice from behind them, and Romulus instantly paled even further, turning his head. "Your freedom has made you bold, I see. I will admit, I did not expect this from you." Chryseis Viridius descended the stairs from the inn's second floor, gloved hand trailing lightly atop the railing. She was dressed as her father was, in green and gold, her own robes a bit tighter about her, with clearly some modifications made for stylistic purposes. The neck was cut lower, the skirt asymmetrically shorn, and the metal covering her fingers and belt intricately engraved. Her blonde hair was done up in an elaborate but tightly wound bun. Her lips wore a confident smile.
Romulus had turned fully away from Cassius, lowered his eyes slightly, and was about to speak, when Chryseis cut him off, continuing her approach. "Do not presume to speak. I have asked you no question. I trust you have enjoyed your little escapade. It will not last forever." Romulus forced himself to meet her eyes, and apparently decided it was best to remain silent. The smile disappeared from Chryseis, replaced by a little smirk, her eyes agleam as they found Cyrus instead.
She worked her way around the group to stand at her father's side, her hand lightly touching his upper arm only momentarily before it was removed. "Cyrus. Wonderful to see you again. The runaway's life is treating you well, I hope?"
āAh, Chryseis. I confess I have missed the rather lovely sight of your face.ā Cyrusās answering smile was every bit as sly, but it was true that her presence didnāt make him uncomfortable in the least, quite unlike poor Romulus. Of course, it was clear to him what game she was playing, with words like thatāit would appear she desired her father to believe that her blade did not have her leave to be here, doing as he was doing, when of course they knew differently.
So Cyrus did something heād always been exceptionally good at doing, and drew the attention away from someone else and onto himself. āBut what a surprise, to see that the most illustrious House Viridius has joined us in the south, hm? This really isnāt the season for it, I must admit.ā He made eye contact with Cassius, his smile inching wider. āImagine, if you will, how interested I was to hear that Magister Cassius had managed to indenture most of the mages left in the region in one fell swoop. Truly a master stroke, executed with a most uncanny timing.ā The emphasis he gave the last word was so delicate it could easily have been missed, but Cassius clearly did not miss it.
āWhat can I say? A Magister with no apprentice suddenly finds himself with a great deal of time to think down other avenues.ā The old man lifted his shoulders in a shrug. āAnd what luck, that such avenues might give him opportunity to meet with an Inquisition. Iām curious: what would such an organization wish from me?ā
Lady Marceline apparently decided that that was her cue. She laid a hand on Estella's shoulder and gently guided her so that she could step forward, but she never did try to overshadow her. In fact, she stood side-by-side with the woman, a warm and friendly smile on her lips directed toward Chryseis and Cassius. "I will be frank," she began, her voice holding the same warmth her smile held. "The Inquisition did not expect to be speaking to Magisters of such... renown," she said, dipping into a low curtsey.
When she finished, she held her hands on top of each other and her body language shifted in an attempt to entreaty them. "Lord Cassius, Lady Chryseis," she began, glancing at each in turn. "You of course know of the Breach that hangs in the sky above Haven. It is... a danger if it is allowed to continue to exist as such. All the Inquisition asks for is the Free Mages' aid in helping to close it. With your permissions, of course."
She smiled again and tilted her head forward, "No doubt being the man who had helped put Thedas at ease would aid in your politics back home in Minrathous, yes?"
Cyrus suppressed a grimace, because he knew sheād said the wrong thing. Cassiusās smile only confirmed it. It was polite, indifferent, and utterly unmoved. āI fear you understand little of politics in Minrathous, milady. These mages are not free, not in the strict sense, anyway. I am afraid they have promised me their service in return for my protection, and at present, I have decided it is in their best interest to return with me to the Imperium as quickly as possible. There have always been few good places for them in these lands, after all.ā
It was almost admirable, how he managed to sound like he actually gave a damn. Cyrus, of course, knew that Cassius was just as full of shit on this count as Marceline was, pretending to be pleased to be speaking to Imperial Magisters. It was almost funny to watch, but then of course he had to go and make it no longer funny at all by shifting his attention to Estella.
āI am sure that is something with which my lady Herald can completely agree, can she not? Iāve heard about Kirkwall; most unfortunate, what Templars in these regions are capable of. Utter madness, really. One could hardly blame a mage for seeking refuge where their abilities, however grand or humble, are celebrated rather than reviled.ā Cyrus clenched his teeth.
āI can think of no one who would not celebrate were the Breach closed,ā Estella replied, her tone careful, her face smooth and passive. āAnd I think that if you truly cared how mages were perceived here, you would let mages be the root of the solution.ā She lifted her chin slightly, almost as if daring him to contradict her. Marceline simply continued to smile, though this time, it was genuine.
Cyrus did not bother to conceal his own. She was absolutely brilliant, she really was. It was so very perfect, reallyāno one could have managed to make that sound so genuine except for her, he was certain, and Cassius was left in the rather unenviable position of having to admit he didnāt care about the mages, or that he wanted the Breach to remain open, which was an intriguing possibility that Cyrus filed away for consideration. He suspected both were true. Of course, admitting the first would cost him considerably less, but heād no longer be able to pretend to the moral high ground. This would be seen for exactly what it was: an opportunistic power-grab.
That appeared to be the route heād chosen. Cassiusās polite smile vanished, replaced with a stern expression Cyrus knew all too well. It was the expression heād usually received when his master was about to commence ignoring him until heād gained command of whatever he was supposed to learn that week, which meant he was extremely displeased. āIām afraid Iāve little concern for such affairs. I am not the one with an Inquisition, after all. Unless you can offer me something worthwhile in exchange for my loan of my servants, this discussion is quite over. We will be in the castle for a while longerāperhaps you shall devise some new terms in the meantime.ā Cassius stood, gesturing to his guards and Fiona, who all fell in step behind him as he made for the exit.
Chryseis remained behind, her back leaned gently against one of the inn's wooden supports. Her expression had not changed as her father's had, instead showing a hint of amusement as her eyes followed Cassius until he was out the door with all of his personal guards. When the door was firmly shut behind him, her eyes fell to Estella, her smile still in place. "Words well chosen. But make no mistake, you are all in great danger by being here. A danger I believe only Cyrus can understand the magnitude of." The smile slowly faded.
She stepped away from the wooden support, coming a little closer to them. "I must remain in my father's presence until night falls, to avoid suspicion. Meet me in the Chantry tonight, if you will, so that we can... catch up." She flashed a smile briefly at Cyrus, before walking around the side of the group and lightly grabbing Romulus by the chin, between her thumb and forefinger. "I know you at least will follow my wish." She released him, and Romulus immediately averted his eyes downwards.
"Domina."
"Until tonight, then," she said, striding towards the door. "Take care, Inquisition."