"Ahh, welcome back Chancellor, I do hope your travels found you well," Lady Marceline replied as politely as she could. However, despite whatever message she had written on her face, speaking with Chancellor Roderick would be the furthest thing from enjoyable. As it stood, she had awaited outside the double doors of the Chantry for the arrival of their local corsair, whom she'd sent Larissa to fetch not too long ago. Instead, now she had to deal with Roderick, who'd made it quite clear of what he thought of their Inquisition.
Or rather, heretics in his words. "I'm curious ambassador," he said, pulling up to Marceline and crossing his arms. The appearance of the Chancellor and the way that his voice seemed to carry had drawn the attention of some of the Inquisition's forces, as well as a few of the mages. "As to how the Inquisition and its Heralds will restore the order that you've promised." Marceline's lips remained in a tight, even line that's become her default.
"Of course you are, Lord Chancellor, however I unfortunately find myself asking the same of the Chantry. Tell me, has the Chantry sent you back in an effort to offer aid in closing the breach and recovering the peace we seek, or is it to just denounce us as heretics and heathens," she asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity. She already knew the answer, it was the only thing the Chantry had done since the conclave. The Inquisition seemed to be a unifying force, for both the right and wrong reasons.
Chancellor Roderick guffawed at the notion, "Offer aid to the rebel Inquistion and the murderers you call the Heralds of Andraste? I think not!" There was a grumble among the crowd, and it was not in favor of the Chancellor's viewpoint. The Inquisition had heard about the selflessness of Lady Estella, and they respected Romulus's efforts. To hear their Heralds called murderers did not sit well with them, and Marceline could not blame them.
She narrowed her eyes and her chin lifted as she looked down on the Chancellor. "Those two murderers as you say, have done more to restore order than the Chantry has even attempted," she said coolly.
Roderick returned her stare with one of his own. "Careful ambassador. What you say is blasphemy. Order can never truly be restored so as long as this rebellion is allowed to fester."
Lady Marceline simply allowed herself a tight smile and nodded. "We shall see about that Lord Chancellor. Personally, I am quite fond of our chances," she said, ending with a look at the gathered crowd. There were more grumbles, this time of agreement with Marceline's sentiments. She then tilted her head and curtsied, keeping ever polite. "Now Chancellor, if the Chantry decides to do something other than cry heresy, please. Allow me to be the first to hear." It would be immensely difficult to march upon the Inquisition without soldiers after all.
"As you all were," she called, turning to the crowd that had formed. Eventually they began to disperse as well, leaving only a rather upset looking Roderick glaring a hole into Marceline's forehead.
It was only then when Zahra showed herself. She'd been in the crowd, only revealing the wild-haired captain when they began dispersing back to their duties, or lack thereof, anyhow. Her expression spoke volumes, though it seemed to direct itself at the Chantry's representative. Her eyebrows were pinched together, hooding livid eyes and a bared scowl that could've tickled itself into a grin at a moment's notice. She took a few leveled steps towards him and turned on her heels, perhaps thinking better of it, though she clicked her tongue, in disgust rather than amusement and faced Marceline instead.
“Well. I'd say that went rather well, even without Mr. Dour's cooperation,” her comment might've held a bit of humor, but it was obvious that she held some sort of reservation towards the pious old man. She flagged an eyebrow, and glanced over her shoulder, leveling the Chancellor with a glare of her own, in order to force him to finally look away. A crooked laugh sounded as she placed her hands over her hips, and faced Marceline once more, “Shall we? I'm sure you've called me for a reason, and as much as I'd like to say that we're in good company...”
Larissa stepped out from behind Zahra and gave Marceline a nod before she stood beside her with her hands resting in her sleeves. Just like Marceline, she wore the same impassive face as she watched a vein on Roderick's neck grow in size. "Thank you, Larissa. If you would be so kind as to see to the Chancellor, I shall discuss our business with our good captain here." Larissa looked at Marceline with a slightly raised brow. She'd certainly have to make it up to the woman later, dumping the Chancellor off on her like that, but she doubted he'd approve of the business she was to discuss with Zahra.
Eventually, Larissa nodded and turned to Chancellor, and simply settled in. Marceline allowed an apologetic look to pass over her features before she turned to Zahra. "Come, we can talk in my office," she said and turned to enter the Chantry. They passed through the double doors and passed through the main hall, passing Michaël and Pierre along the way. Pierre sat on one of the benches with a book on Orlesian history in hand, his father watching over his shoulder. As they passed, both men looked up and waved, Marceline smiling at them genuinely and returned the wave.
They took a left and entered the small office that Marceline basically lived out of now. A desk sat in the middle of the room, full of scrolls of parchment and sheafs of paper in varying stages of being written. Marceline offered Zahra a chair that faced the desk as she went to a corner of the room that sat a small table that held a bottle of wine and accompanying glasses. She already began to pour herself a glass before she offered one to Zahra "Can I offer you a glass as well? It is a pinot noir, just arrived from my winery back home."
Zahra followed Marceline, matching her pace, in relative silence. She seemed awfully comfortable in it anyhow. A small smile played on her lips as they walked. Her bright eyes flicked across the main expanse of the building and seemed to be picking apart the tapestries, and the neat line of candles scattered against the walls. While she made no comment, her curiosity was obvious. When Marceline led them both into one of the side chambers, she immediately dropped down in the proffered chair. It was only when there was an offer of wine that her attention perked up once more, drawing her lidded gaze to the bottle she was holding. “You know how to steer your way into my heart. Of course, thank you.”
Marceline smiled and continued to pour the second glass as well, and when both were full, she crossed back over the room to hand Zahra the glass. Instead of moving around her desk to take a seat behind it however, Marceline instead chose to lean gently against the corner. "Forgive me if I do not sit with you, I have sat for far too long and I wish to stretch my back," she said, gesturing to the pile of neatly stacked parchments. "With the support of the free mages, we are starting to be taken seriously, and I find myself fielding inquiries from many inquisitive sources."
At that, Marceline put the glass to her lips and took the first sip of her wine. The taste held a sweet warmth with a tart ending. Upon swallowing, Marceline swished the glass and watched as the liquid spun around the bottom. "But we have come to speak business yes? It is because of the mages that I asked to speak with you today." She halted the spinning of the liquid and cupped the glass with both hands on her lap, straightening her back in the process. The sheaves of paper would make her into a bent old woman long before she got there naturally.
"To close the Breach, we are bound to require a large amount of power. The mages are only but a step in that direction. I have already set up a number of legitimate lyrium supply lines, but I am aware that you are, shall we say, a woman of resources, no? The Inquisition requires every advantage we can afford you understand?" She was dancing around the word smuggling of course. She did not intend to ask Zahra the details of the matter if she was in fact able to procure another source of lyrium.
Zahra accepted the glass gracefully and held it close to her nose, inhaling before taking a sip of her own. From the expression on her face, it certainly was a well-chosen vintage. She swished the contents a couple times, and took a much larger mouthful, closing her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them, she appeared mildly apologetic. “Swimming political currents, and still keeping up with the paperwork,” she noted with a curled lip, eying the piles of parchments tidily stacked across her desk, “I don't envy your duties.”
The captain bobbed her head in a curt nod, indicating that Marceline could continue explaining why she'd been called down here. Her eyes, half-lidded and perpetually amused, drifted away from the rim of her glass, and settled back on Marceline's face. Zahra's countenance changed at the mention of business, taking on an air of earnestness. Like an eel coiling for an opportunity. Her smile simmered down to an inquisitive line, though her eyes lit up with bright-eyed interest. “You've the right of it, Lady Marceline,” her voice had a tickle of laughter in it, though she disclosed no reasons as to why, “Say the word, and your mages will have another lyrium supply in their services.”
She tapped two fingers against her chin and tilted her head to the side, cradling the glass of wine in her lap, “Though I'll have to ask if you've any wagons to spare. And horses to draw them. I'm afraid a boats all I have, and unfortunately it isn't able to sprout legs.” Zahra finished the wine and leaned forward to place it back onto her desk, “That's all I'd require to do as you ask.”
"That is unfortunate," Marceline agreed with a small laugh of her own. Afterward though, her lips set into a thin line and she began to process. "You need not worry about the wagons, they will be supplied. I shall speak to Ser Leonhardt about requisitioning them, and also to Master Dennet to gather the horses to draw them." Marceline paused for a moment before she leaned backward over her desk and plucked a scroll of parchment expertly, bringing it back and depositing it into Zahra's hands.
"It is a map of the land between here and the Waking Sea. If you would indicate the routes you believe to be most efficient, I will send letters to the local Banns to ensure that the roads are safe to travel. I would not put anyone in unnecessary danger if I can help it," she said, though she neglected to reveal that she did not want the supplies to fall into the hands of bandits.
Zahra waggled her eyebrows, and fanned her hands out wide, “With both our efforts, what couldn't we achieve?” Even without the mirthful tilt to her tone, she appeared pleased by the prospects. She lounged back in her seat and crossed a leg over her knee, taking up the scroll of parchment Marceline dropped in her hands and smoothing it across her lap. She hummed a soft tune and traced a finger across various lines, where roads and smaller villages lied. An approving smile crossed her lips, as she looked back to Marceline.
“And I'll have Nuka accompany our little caravan to ensure the supplies reaches its destination all proper-like,” she added as she rolled the piece of parchment back up and tapped her knee with it, “So, this concludes our business. Seems to me, no loose ends that needs tying. Is there anything else you'd like of me?”
Marceline shook her head, "No, I do not believe so. Thank you for assistance Captain," she said with a grateful nod. Before she could stand and see Zahra out, however, the door opened behind them and Larissa stepped inside. The moment she crossed the threshold, the serene and even look she wore broke away into a furrowed brow and scrunched nose. It was clear that her time spent with the Chancellor were not altogether enjoyable. Marceline offered her an apologetic look before the elf spoke first. "I know many songs and stories, and even I was unaware of how many ways it is possible to call someone a heathen," she said. Marceline found it somewhat difficult to stifle a small chuckle.
Quickly, Marceline coughed to cover herself and spoke, "I apologize for putting you through that Larissa. You have the rest of the day to yourself. Mother sent a package from home, you are welcome to it," she said, indicating to the package that rested in the opposite corner of the room. Larissa's eyes alighted on the package and went to it, curiously checking the contents. Eventually, she produced a book, Hard in Hightown written extravagantly on the cover.
"Ah, give Lady Lécuyer my thanks."
Zahra did little in the means of containing her laughter, though she had enough decency to offer her own apologies, “Who else could stave off his insults so easily?” She'd already risen from her chair and lingered closer to the doorway, peering curiously over Larissa's shoulder when she fiddled with the contents of the package. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes when she held the book aloft, and the quirking smile broke into a full-blown grin. “Lovely book, that. Best enjoyed in a quiet space, if you take my meaning.”
"That is the plan, Captain," Larissa answered with a smile.
Lady Marceline sighed, but a smile was on her lips as well. The poor girl deserved it after dealing with the Chancellor.
"Captain," Marceline nodded and stood to see the woman out, before turning to her desk to resume her work
Or rather, heretics in his words. "I'm curious ambassador," he said, pulling up to Marceline and crossing his arms. The appearance of the Chancellor and the way that his voice seemed to carry had drawn the attention of some of the Inquisition's forces, as well as a few of the mages. "As to how the Inquisition and its Heralds will restore the order that you've promised." Marceline's lips remained in a tight, even line that's become her default.
"Of course you are, Lord Chancellor, however I unfortunately find myself asking the same of the Chantry. Tell me, has the Chantry sent you back in an effort to offer aid in closing the breach and recovering the peace we seek, or is it to just denounce us as heretics and heathens," she asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity. She already knew the answer, it was the only thing the Chantry had done since the conclave. The Inquisition seemed to be a unifying force, for both the right and wrong reasons.
Chancellor Roderick guffawed at the notion, "Offer aid to the rebel Inquistion and the murderers you call the Heralds of Andraste? I think not!" There was a grumble among the crowd, and it was not in favor of the Chancellor's viewpoint. The Inquisition had heard about the selflessness of Lady Estella, and they respected Romulus's efforts. To hear their Heralds called murderers did not sit well with them, and Marceline could not blame them.
She narrowed her eyes and her chin lifted as she looked down on the Chancellor. "Those two murderers as you say, have done more to restore order than the Chantry has even attempted," she said coolly.
Roderick returned her stare with one of his own. "Careful ambassador. What you say is blasphemy. Order can never truly be restored so as long as this rebellion is allowed to fester."
Lady Marceline simply allowed herself a tight smile and nodded. "We shall see about that Lord Chancellor. Personally, I am quite fond of our chances," she said, ending with a look at the gathered crowd. There were more grumbles, this time of agreement with Marceline's sentiments. She then tilted her head and curtsied, keeping ever polite. "Now Chancellor, if the Chantry decides to do something other than cry heresy, please. Allow me to be the first to hear." It would be immensely difficult to march upon the Inquisition without soldiers after all.
"As you all were," she called, turning to the crowd that had formed. Eventually they began to disperse as well, leaving only a rather upset looking Roderick glaring a hole into Marceline's forehead.
It was only then when Zahra showed herself. She'd been in the crowd, only revealing the wild-haired captain when they began dispersing back to their duties, or lack thereof, anyhow. Her expression spoke volumes, though it seemed to direct itself at the Chantry's representative. Her eyebrows were pinched together, hooding livid eyes and a bared scowl that could've tickled itself into a grin at a moment's notice. She took a few leveled steps towards him and turned on her heels, perhaps thinking better of it, though she clicked her tongue, in disgust rather than amusement and faced Marceline instead.
“Well. I'd say that went rather well, even without Mr. Dour's cooperation,” her comment might've held a bit of humor, but it was obvious that she held some sort of reservation towards the pious old man. She flagged an eyebrow, and glanced over her shoulder, leveling the Chancellor with a glare of her own, in order to force him to finally look away. A crooked laugh sounded as she placed her hands over her hips, and faced Marceline once more, “Shall we? I'm sure you've called me for a reason, and as much as I'd like to say that we're in good company...”
Larissa stepped out from behind Zahra and gave Marceline a nod before she stood beside her with her hands resting in her sleeves. Just like Marceline, she wore the same impassive face as she watched a vein on Roderick's neck grow in size. "Thank you, Larissa. If you would be so kind as to see to the Chancellor, I shall discuss our business with our good captain here." Larissa looked at Marceline with a slightly raised brow. She'd certainly have to make it up to the woman later, dumping the Chancellor off on her like that, but she doubted he'd approve of the business she was to discuss with Zahra.
Eventually, Larissa nodded and turned to Chancellor, and simply settled in. Marceline allowed an apologetic look to pass over her features before she turned to Zahra. "Come, we can talk in my office," she said and turned to enter the Chantry. They passed through the double doors and passed through the main hall, passing Michaël and Pierre along the way. Pierre sat on one of the benches with a book on Orlesian history in hand, his father watching over his shoulder. As they passed, both men looked up and waved, Marceline smiling at them genuinely and returned the wave.
They took a left and entered the small office that Marceline basically lived out of now. A desk sat in the middle of the room, full of scrolls of parchment and sheafs of paper in varying stages of being written. Marceline offered Zahra a chair that faced the desk as she went to a corner of the room that sat a small table that held a bottle of wine and accompanying glasses. She already began to pour herself a glass before she offered one to Zahra "Can I offer you a glass as well? It is a pinot noir, just arrived from my winery back home."
Zahra followed Marceline, matching her pace, in relative silence. She seemed awfully comfortable in it anyhow. A small smile played on her lips as they walked. Her bright eyes flicked across the main expanse of the building and seemed to be picking apart the tapestries, and the neat line of candles scattered against the walls. While she made no comment, her curiosity was obvious. When Marceline led them both into one of the side chambers, she immediately dropped down in the proffered chair. It was only when there was an offer of wine that her attention perked up once more, drawing her lidded gaze to the bottle she was holding. “You know how to steer your way into my heart. Of course, thank you.”
Marceline smiled and continued to pour the second glass as well, and when both were full, she crossed back over the room to hand Zahra the glass. Instead of moving around her desk to take a seat behind it however, Marceline instead chose to lean gently against the corner. "Forgive me if I do not sit with you, I have sat for far too long and I wish to stretch my back," she said, gesturing to the pile of neatly stacked parchments. "With the support of the free mages, we are starting to be taken seriously, and I find myself fielding inquiries from many inquisitive sources."
At that, Marceline put the glass to her lips and took the first sip of her wine. The taste held a sweet warmth with a tart ending. Upon swallowing, Marceline swished the glass and watched as the liquid spun around the bottom. "But we have come to speak business yes? It is because of the mages that I asked to speak with you today." She halted the spinning of the liquid and cupped the glass with both hands on her lap, straightening her back in the process. The sheaves of paper would make her into a bent old woman long before she got there naturally.
"To close the Breach, we are bound to require a large amount of power. The mages are only but a step in that direction. I have already set up a number of legitimate lyrium supply lines, but I am aware that you are, shall we say, a woman of resources, no? The Inquisition requires every advantage we can afford you understand?" She was dancing around the word smuggling of course. She did not intend to ask Zahra the details of the matter if she was in fact able to procure another source of lyrium.
Zahra accepted the glass gracefully and held it close to her nose, inhaling before taking a sip of her own. From the expression on her face, it certainly was a well-chosen vintage. She swished the contents a couple times, and took a much larger mouthful, closing her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them, she appeared mildly apologetic. “Swimming political currents, and still keeping up with the paperwork,” she noted with a curled lip, eying the piles of parchments tidily stacked across her desk, “I don't envy your duties.”
The captain bobbed her head in a curt nod, indicating that Marceline could continue explaining why she'd been called down here. Her eyes, half-lidded and perpetually amused, drifted away from the rim of her glass, and settled back on Marceline's face. Zahra's countenance changed at the mention of business, taking on an air of earnestness. Like an eel coiling for an opportunity. Her smile simmered down to an inquisitive line, though her eyes lit up with bright-eyed interest. “You've the right of it, Lady Marceline,” her voice had a tickle of laughter in it, though she disclosed no reasons as to why, “Say the word, and your mages will have another lyrium supply in their services.”
She tapped two fingers against her chin and tilted her head to the side, cradling the glass of wine in her lap, “Though I'll have to ask if you've any wagons to spare. And horses to draw them. I'm afraid a boats all I have, and unfortunately it isn't able to sprout legs.” Zahra finished the wine and leaned forward to place it back onto her desk, “That's all I'd require to do as you ask.”
"That is unfortunate," Marceline agreed with a small laugh of her own. Afterward though, her lips set into a thin line and she began to process. "You need not worry about the wagons, they will be supplied. I shall speak to Ser Leonhardt about requisitioning them, and also to Master Dennet to gather the horses to draw them." Marceline paused for a moment before she leaned backward over her desk and plucked a scroll of parchment expertly, bringing it back and depositing it into Zahra's hands.
"It is a map of the land between here and the Waking Sea. If you would indicate the routes you believe to be most efficient, I will send letters to the local Banns to ensure that the roads are safe to travel. I would not put anyone in unnecessary danger if I can help it," she said, though she neglected to reveal that she did not want the supplies to fall into the hands of bandits.
Zahra waggled her eyebrows, and fanned her hands out wide, “With both our efforts, what couldn't we achieve?” Even without the mirthful tilt to her tone, she appeared pleased by the prospects. She lounged back in her seat and crossed a leg over her knee, taking up the scroll of parchment Marceline dropped in her hands and smoothing it across her lap. She hummed a soft tune and traced a finger across various lines, where roads and smaller villages lied. An approving smile crossed her lips, as she looked back to Marceline.
“And I'll have Nuka accompany our little caravan to ensure the supplies reaches its destination all proper-like,” she added as she rolled the piece of parchment back up and tapped her knee with it, “So, this concludes our business. Seems to me, no loose ends that needs tying. Is there anything else you'd like of me?”
Marceline shook her head, "No, I do not believe so. Thank you for assistance Captain," she said with a grateful nod. Before she could stand and see Zahra out, however, the door opened behind them and Larissa stepped inside. The moment she crossed the threshold, the serene and even look she wore broke away into a furrowed brow and scrunched nose. It was clear that her time spent with the Chancellor were not altogether enjoyable. Marceline offered her an apologetic look before the elf spoke first. "I know many songs and stories, and even I was unaware of how many ways it is possible to call someone a heathen," she said. Marceline found it somewhat difficult to stifle a small chuckle.
Quickly, Marceline coughed to cover herself and spoke, "I apologize for putting you through that Larissa. You have the rest of the day to yourself. Mother sent a package from home, you are welcome to it," she said, indicating to the package that rested in the opposite corner of the room. Larissa's eyes alighted on the package and went to it, curiously checking the contents. Eventually, she produced a book, Hard in Hightown written extravagantly on the cover.
"Ah, give Lady Lécuyer my thanks."
Zahra did little in the means of containing her laughter, though she had enough decency to offer her own apologies, “Who else could stave off his insults so easily?” She'd already risen from her chair and lingered closer to the doorway, peering curiously over Larissa's shoulder when she fiddled with the contents of the package. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes when she held the book aloft, and the quirking smile broke into a full-blown grin. “Lovely book, that. Best enjoyed in a quiet space, if you take my meaning.”
"That is the plan, Captain," Larissa answered with a smile.
Lady Marceline sighed, but a smile was on her lips as well. The poor girl deserved it after dealing with the Chancellor.
"Captain," Marceline nodded and stood to see the woman out, before turning to her desk to resume her work