Lady Marceline sat expectantly on the lip of her desk, nursing a half-empty glass of wine. Behind her Pierre sat in her chair, gently rocking it back and forth with his hands clasped behind his head. Her office had filled in nicely since they first arrived to Skyhold. The desk she sat upon was of strong oaken make, stained with a deep varnish with exquisitely carved siding. For what felt like the first time since it had arrived, the desk was bereft of loose papers-- though they did not hide far away in one of the desk drawers. Behind them in the corner she had situated her desk in front of, a pair of bookcases flanked both walls. Leather bound books and ledges filled the shelves.
The fireplace crackled with life, chasing away the lingering winter cold. Above the mantle, a large family portrait consisting of Marceline, Michaël, and Pierre hung, each wearing a warm smile-- though Michaël's was something more of a grin. A couch was situated in front of it, with a pair of sitting chairs positioned behind it. Beyond that in the corner across from them, an armor stand held Marceline's custom plate, with several of her weapons hung up behind it. Atop the landing beside them, a russet carpet led from the entrance to the door that opened to the hallway to the War Room.
They were both waiting for someone. Or someones, at that particular moment. She had asked for Romulus and Estella to meet her in her office so that she could brief them on the guests they were expecting later that day. He had specifically requested to meet the Inquisitors, and Marceline did not wish to sequester them away from every aristocrat that asked... At least, certainly not the ones that mattered. While she expectantly watched the door, she took another sip from her wine glass.
It didn't take too much longer before there was a knock; a couple of minutes before she'd asked for them, the Inquisitors had arrived. Estella stepped through the door first, outfitted as usual in russet-colored linen with cold and brown accents. She'd skipped the chainmail today, though she wore her sword at her belt and knife at her back as always. She offered Marceline a small smile, though it was slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps she had a guess as to what this was about.
Romulus had at least changed into a different outfit than the ones he trained in, wearing a clean, dark brown tunic over a tan undershirt, loose-fitting trousers, and low boots. Instead of a smile he offered a nod, and where Estella was uncomfortable he looked tense instead. As though he'd been called in expecting some kind of punishment or something. Indeed, he rarely set foot in Marceline's office except when it was requested or required of him.
Their expressions were not entirely a surprise, but she still sighed to herself when they entered, taking another sip from her wine glass. Once they slipped further into her office, she and Pierre finally stood up to greet them. "Romulus, Estella," she said, holding the wineglass out to the side for Pierre to take. The boy accepted the glass and set it down on a nearby table that held its empty partner and the bottle that it came from. "You two appear rather intimidated," Marceline noted, putting on her best comforting smile. "It will not be that bad, I promise."
“Oh, no, it's not..." Estella pursed her lips slightly, and then her expression cleared to neutrality. “What exactly are you wanting us to do?"
"Skyhold will be receiving visitors and they have personally requested to be introduced our Inquisitors," she said rather simply. "Our guests are the Marquis of Collines Verts, His Grace Mathis Ambroise, and his niece, Lady Félicité." She had written to the Marquis to inquire of the status of the Chevalier Jean-Robert Durand when Khari had suggest the Inquisition attempt to recruit him. Lady Marceline was not particularly enthusiastic with how the situation resolved itself, but it did put her back into contact with Mathis. It was perhaps their victory in Adamant that piqued his curiosity enough to request a more formal visit however.
Marceline pushed away from her desk and stood with her arms crossed as she regard the Inquisitors. "Collines Verts lies adjacent to my own holdings on the West Banks and His Grace is responsible for a sizable share of Orlais' grain production. There is a good chance that our own grain stores once originated from his holdings," she stated. She frowned as she looked toward the Inquisitors, worried that she may have intimidated them further rather than comforted them. "Do not worry, I am acquainted with Lord Mathis personally and I have never known him to be a man quick to judge or anger. I would ask that you two simply be yourselves," She asked, before frowning for a moment. "Though, I would urge you to maintain a proper respect for his position."
Romulus had indeed looked more and more troubled as Marceline spoke, a tightness developing in his jaw, which then tightened even further. "Am I... expected to say anything?" It was quite obvious that if he was, he was entirely in the dark as to what words in particular to use.
"I would prefer that you answer if you are spoken to, yes," she said sighing, "but if you do not wish to make small talk, then you do not have to."
“It's... not easy to feel comfortable around people of station," Estella said, though whether she was doing so as a means of trying to sympathize with Romulus or gently remind Marceline that this was not as obvious for everyone as it was for her was hard to say. “Especially when most of them make it very difficult to forget that they are." She still maintained a carefully-neutral expression, but her questions at least indicated a bit more understanding of the expectations in general.
“Is this to be an official meeting of some duration, or would you just like us to introduce ourselves and answer his questions for a while?"
"Only introductions are necessary for now, though they will be among us for a week," She looked between them before she tilted her head, figuring she should try and say something to soothe them. "Do not worry, Larissa and I will be the ones chiefly responsible for entertaining them, you will be able to go about your days as usual."
Marceline spent the time until a knock rapped at the door coaching them and attempting to get them more comfortable with the idea. She did not know if she was successful in her endeavor however, and turned her attention toward the door as Larissa entered. "Lady Marceline?" she said, stepping through and opening it wide to allow their guests in. "I present His Grace, Lord Mathis Ambroise of Collines Verts, and Lady Félicité."
The man that entered bore a gold mask embedded with onyx stones that covered the upper part of his face. He had strong cheekbones, had the mask's contour of them been correct--and to her knowledge it was. Stringy brown hair was swept back on his head, though errant strands made themselves home framing his face. Small brown eyes hid behind the mask and thin lips rounded out the man's face. He bore black clothing accented with gold embroidery and gold jewelry. Across his shoulders was a black cloak lined with white fur, which he was in the process of peeling off.
Following close behind him was a young woman, only a year older than Pierre if Marceline remembered correctly. While the young lady had the same high cheekbones as her uncle, her eyes were larger and held pale blue irises. She too wore a mask, though hers was a silver color, embedded with rubies instead of onyx. Her hair, also unlike her uncle's, was a pale blond, and the skin left bare by the mask suggested a pale skin tone.
Once Lord Mathis had removed his cloak, he held it out politely for Larissa to take, nodding his appreciation when she accepted it. "Comtesse Marceline, it has been far too long since we have spoken in person my lady," he said, slipping into a deep bow with the greeting, a gesture Lady Félicité copied. "And is this young Pierre?" he asked surprised, catching sight of her son. "My, he has grown since the last time I have seen him," he said.
Pierre replied with a appreciative smile and a bow of his own. "Your Grace," he greeted.
Marceline bowed as well, returning the warm smile Mathis had with one of his own. "My thanks Lord Mathis, it is pleasant to see you as well," she answered. "I can say the same about Lady Félicité, she is growing into such a lovely young woman."
The young lady blushed slightly in response but nodded her thanks anyway. "Yes, she looks more and more like her mother each day. My brother would have been so proud," he said, though Marceline caught a certain wistful tone to his words. As they crossed the room, Mathis paused for a moment as he looked closer at both Pierre and Marceline. "I see that you are without your masks. A shame, yours was especially lovely."
"Yes, as I now represent the Inquisition instead of Orlais, I felt it only right that I forwent them," She answered
"I see... Well, fair enough. I do not wish to put you at a disadvantage," he answered, glancing at Félicité before he began to remove his own mask with Lady Félicité not far behind. Once the masks were removed, he turned toward both Estella and Romulus. "Are these the Inquisitors then?" he asked, excitement leaping into his eyes.
“Your Grace; Lady Félicité." Estella replied politely, holding herself tall and with about as much dignity as she ever managed. Her pronunciation, at least, was flawless, and she bowed slightly to both. “Milord is quite right; I'm Estella Avenarius. This is Romulus—we lead the Inquisition. With much help from Lady Marceline among others, of course." It was impossible to tell how real her smile was, but it looked like the genuine article, warm and kind, without being unctuous.
“Welcome to Skyhold."
"Your Grace. My Lady," Romulus added. He seemed to attempt a smile, but it didn't make it very far in the construction process.
"My thanks, Lady Inquisitor," he nodded in appreciation. "Your Keep has been nothing but welcoming since I arrived, I assure you." He then paused for a moment glancing between them and frowned. "I expected that you two were... Taller," he said, receiving a sharp elbow from his niece in retribution. "Oh, my apologies," he added at her urging, "but it is to be expected I suppose, my niece and I only had rumors to go on, and they are not the most reliable source of information."
Mathis paused, his eyes lingering on his niece for a moment before they shifted to Pierre. "Forgive me for asking Lady Marceline," he said, turning his attention back to her, "But might I impose that your son give my Félicité a tour of the castle ground? I am certain that they do not wish to listen to us drone on and trading pleasentries ad nauseam."
Marceline did not answer, but instead turned to Pierre so that he may. "Of course, your grace," he said, stepping forward and offering an arm for Lady Félicité to take. Once she accepted, they made their way to the exit while Larissa held the door for them.
When Larissa shut the door behind them, Marceline spoke again. "Lord Mathis, you must be exhausted from the traveling. If you wish, I can have Larissa take you to your lodgings. I apologize if the Keep's housing is not what you are used to."
Mathis simply brushed her off. "Do not worry, I am not that thin-skinned," he said with a laugh, "But yes, that does sound wonderful. I expect we will talk more later?" Mathis asked.
"Of course," she answered with a smile, and watched as Larissa led the Marquis away. Once he was beyond the door and out of earshot, she turned toward the Inquisitors. "See, it was not that bad, no? The Marquis is a pleasant man," she said, making her way to her wine table and retrieving her wineglass.
“You've known each other for a while, then?" Estella glanced to the door where they'd all departed, then back at Marceline. “At least since Pierre was a bit younger?"
"Yes, even further than that actually," Marceline answered as she returned to sit on the lip of her desk. She swirled the liquid in the glass as she watched, until she stopped and glanced up toward them. "Before I married Michaël, the Marquis tried his hand in courting me," she said, taking a sip from the glass.
“And Lady Félicité? If her uncle's her guardian, then...?"
Marceline frowned sadly. "Her parents are no longer with us, correct," she said. She pursed her lips as she thought back to them. "They were wonderful people, the kindest people you ever would want to meet. I actually attended the college in Val Royeaux with her mother, a bright young woman--I am glad to see that Félicité inherited it."
She sat the wineglass down and crossed her arms, continuing her explanation. "In actuality, Collines Verts is Lady Félicité's by right, but due to her youth and inexperience the Marquis acts as her regent. Her father was the older brother to Lord Mathis." Marceline said. She leaned back, propping herself up with her arms behind her. "Had Mathis married me, we would have united our lands but..." she said, trailing off for a moment as she thought about her own husband. "He is certainly no Michaël," she smiled.
Estella hummed something that sounded vaguely like agreement or understanding, but if anything, her face looked troubled for a split second before smoothing out again. Perhaps that was simply due to the evident discomfort of Romulus. “It seems like a stable situation now, at least. If that's it for now Lady Marceline, we should leave you to your work, perhaps." It was clear enough that she was asking mostly on behalf of Romulus, but there wasn't anything unkind in it.
"Of course. If anything changes, I will be sure to let you know," she said, rising to stand. "Thank you both for your presence today," she added, bowing in gratitude.
The fireplace crackled with life, chasing away the lingering winter cold. Above the mantle, a large family portrait consisting of Marceline, Michaël, and Pierre hung, each wearing a warm smile-- though Michaël's was something more of a grin. A couch was situated in front of it, with a pair of sitting chairs positioned behind it. Beyond that in the corner across from them, an armor stand held Marceline's custom plate, with several of her weapons hung up behind it. Atop the landing beside them, a russet carpet led from the entrance to the door that opened to the hallway to the War Room.
They were both waiting for someone. Or someones, at that particular moment. She had asked for Romulus and Estella to meet her in her office so that she could brief them on the guests they were expecting later that day. He had specifically requested to meet the Inquisitors, and Marceline did not wish to sequester them away from every aristocrat that asked... At least, certainly not the ones that mattered. While she expectantly watched the door, she took another sip from her wine glass.
It didn't take too much longer before there was a knock; a couple of minutes before she'd asked for them, the Inquisitors had arrived. Estella stepped through the door first, outfitted as usual in russet-colored linen with cold and brown accents. She'd skipped the chainmail today, though she wore her sword at her belt and knife at her back as always. She offered Marceline a small smile, though it was slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps she had a guess as to what this was about.
Romulus had at least changed into a different outfit than the ones he trained in, wearing a clean, dark brown tunic over a tan undershirt, loose-fitting trousers, and low boots. Instead of a smile he offered a nod, and where Estella was uncomfortable he looked tense instead. As though he'd been called in expecting some kind of punishment or something. Indeed, he rarely set foot in Marceline's office except when it was requested or required of him.
Their expressions were not entirely a surprise, but she still sighed to herself when they entered, taking another sip from her wine glass. Once they slipped further into her office, she and Pierre finally stood up to greet them. "Romulus, Estella," she said, holding the wineglass out to the side for Pierre to take. The boy accepted the glass and set it down on a nearby table that held its empty partner and the bottle that it came from. "You two appear rather intimidated," Marceline noted, putting on her best comforting smile. "It will not be that bad, I promise."
“Oh, no, it's not..." Estella pursed her lips slightly, and then her expression cleared to neutrality. “What exactly are you wanting us to do?"
"Skyhold will be receiving visitors and they have personally requested to be introduced our Inquisitors," she said rather simply. "Our guests are the Marquis of Collines Verts, His Grace Mathis Ambroise, and his niece, Lady Félicité." She had written to the Marquis to inquire of the status of the Chevalier Jean-Robert Durand when Khari had suggest the Inquisition attempt to recruit him. Lady Marceline was not particularly enthusiastic with how the situation resolved itself, but it did put her back into contact with Mathis. It was perhaps their victory in Adamant that piqued his curiosity enough to request a more formal visit however.
Marceline pushed away from her desk and stood with her arms crossed as she regard the Inquisitors. "Collines Verts lies adjacent to my own holdings on the West Banks and His Grace is responsible for a sizable share of Orlais' grain production. There is a good chance that our own grain stores once originated from his holdings," she stated. She frowned as she looked toward the Inquisitors, worried that she may have intimidated them further rather than comforted them. "Do not worry, I am acquainted with Lord Mathis personally and I have never known him to be a man quick to judge or anger. I would ask that you two simply be yourselves," She asked, before frowning for a moment. "Though, I would urge you to maintain a proper respect for his position."
Romulus had indeed looked more and more troubled as Marceline spoke, a tightness developing in his jaw, which then tightened even further. "Am I... expected to say anything?" It was quite obvious that if he was, he was entirely in the dark as to what words in particular to use.
"I would prefer that you answer if you are spoken to, yes," she said sighing, "but if you do not wish to make small talk, then you do not have to."
“It's... not easy to feel comfortable around people of station," Estella said, though whether she was doing so as a means of trying to sympathize with Romulus or gently remind Marceline that this was not as obvious for everyone as it was for her was hard to say. “Especially when most of them make it very difficult to forget that they are." She still maintained a carefully-neutral expression, but her questions at least indicated a bit more understanding of the expectations in general.
“Is this to be an official meeting of some duration, or would you just like us to introduce ourselves and answer his questions for a while?"
"Only introductions are necessary for now, though they will be among us for a week," She looked between them before she tilted her head, figuring she should try and say something to soothe them. "Do not worry, Larissa and I will be the ones chiefly responsible for entertaining them, you will be able to go about your days as usual."
Marceline spent the time until a knock rapped at the door coaching them and attempting to get them more comfortable with the idea. She did not know if she was successful in her endeavor however, and turned her attention toward the door as Larissa entered. "Lady Marceline?" she said, stepping through and opening it wide to allow their guests in. "I present His Grace, Lord Mathis Ambroise of Collines Verts, and Lady Félicité."
The man that entered bore a gold mask embedded with onyx stones that covered the upper part of his face. He had strong cheekbones, had the mask's contour of them been correct--and to her knowledge it was. Stringy brown hair was swept back on his head, though errant strands made themselves home framing his face. Small brown eyes hid behind the mask and thin lips rounded out the man's face. He bore black clothing accented with gold embroidery and gold jewelry. Across his shoulders was a black cloak lined with white fur, which he was in the process of peeling off.
Following close behind him was a young woman, only a year older than Pierre if Marceline remembered correctly. While the young lady had the same high cheekbones as her uncle, her eyes were larger and held pale blue irises. She too wore a mask, though hers was a silver color, embedded with rubies instead of onyx. Her hair, also unlike her uncle's, was a pale blond, and the skin left bare by the mask suggested a pale skin tone.
Once Lord Mathis had removed his cloak, he held it out politely for Larissa to take, nodding his appreciation when she accepted it. "Comtesse Marceline, it has been far too long since we have spoken in person my lady," he said, slipping into a deep bow with the greeting, a gesture Lady Félicité copied. "And is this young Pierre?" he asked surprised, catching sight of her son. "My, he has grown since the last time I have seen him," he said.
Pierre replied with a appreciative smile and a bow of his own. "Your Grace," he greeted.
Marceline bowed as well, returning the warm smile Mathis had with one of his own. "My thanks Lord Mathis, it is pleasant to see you as well," she answered. "I can say the same about Lady Félicité, she is growing into such a lovely young woman."
The young lady blushed slightly in response but nodded her thanks anyway. "Yes, she looks more and more like her mother each day. My brother would have been so proud," he said, though Marceline caught a certain wistful tone to his words. As they crossed the room, Mathis paused for a moment as he looked closer at both Pierre and Marceline. "I see that you are without your masks. A shame, yours was especially lovely."
"Yes, as I now represent the Inquisition instead of Orlais, I felt it only right that I forwent them," She answered
"I see... Well, fair enough. I do not wish to put you at a disadvantage," he answered, glancing at Félicité before he began to remove his own mask with Lady Félicité not far behind. Once the masks were removed, he turned toward both Estella and Romulus. "Are these the Inquisitors then?" he asked, excitement leaping into his eyes.
“Your Grace; Lady Félicité." Estella replied politely, holding herself tall and with about as much dignity as she ever managed. Her pronunciation, at least, was flawless, and she bowed slightly to both. “Milord is quite right; I'm Estella Avenarius. This is Romulus—we lead the Inquisition. With much help from Lady Marceline among others, of course." It was impossible to tell how real her smile was, but it looked like the genuine article, warm and kind, without being unctuous.
“Welcome to Skyhold."
"Your Grace. My Lady," Romulus added. He seemed to attempt a smile, but it didn't make it very far in the construction process.
"My thanks, Lady Inquisitor," he nodded in appreciation. "Your Keep has been nothing but welcoming since I arrived, I assure you." He then paused for a moment glancing between them and frowned. "I expected that you two were... Taller," he said, receiving a sharp elbow from his niece in retribution. "Oh, my apologies," he added at her urging, "but it is to be expected I suppose, my niece and I only had rumors to go on, and they are not the most reliable source of information."
Mathis paused, his eyes lingering on his niece for a moment before they shifted to Pierre. "Forgive me for asking Lady Marceline," he said, turning his attention back to her, "But might I impose that your son give my Félicité a tour of the castle ground? I am certain that they do not wish to listen to us drone on and trading pleasentries ad nauseam."
Marceline did not answer, but instead turned to Pierre so that he may. "Of course, your grace," he said, stepping forward and offering an arm for Lady Félicité to take. Once she accepted, they made their way to the exit while Larissa held the door for them.
When Larissa shut the door behind them, Marceline spoke again. "Lord Mathis, you must be exhausted from the traveling. If you wish, I can have Larissa take you to your lodgings. I apologize if the Keep's housing is not what you are used to."
Mathis simply brushed her off. "Do not worry, I am not that thin-skinned," he said with a laugh, "But yes, that does sound wonderful. I expect we will talk more later?" Mathis asked.
"Of course," she answered with a smile, and watched as Larissa led the Marquis away. Once he was beyond the door and out of earshot, she turned toward the Inquisitors. "See, it was not that bad, no? The Marquis is a pleasant man," she said, making her way to her wine table and retrieving her wineglass.
“You've known each other for a while, then?" Estella glanced to the door where they'd all departed, then back at Marceline. “At least since Pierre was a bit younger?"
"Yes, even further than that actually," Marceline answered as she returned to sit on the lip of her desk. She swirled the liquid in the glass as she watched, until she stopped and glanced up toward them. "Before I married Michaël, the Marquis tried his hand in courting me," she said, taking a sip from the glass.
“And Lady Félicité? If her uncle's her guardian, then...?"
Marceline frowned sadly. "Her parents are no longer with us, correct," she said. She pursed her lips as she thought back to them. "They were wonderful people, the kindest people you ever would want to meet. I actually attended the college in Val Royeaux with her mother, a bright young woman--I am glad to see that Félicité inherited it."
She sat the wineglass down and crossed her arms, continuing her explanation. "In actuality, Collines Verts is Lady Félicité's by right, but due to her youth and inexperience the Marquis acts as her regent. Her father was the older brother to Lord Mathis." Marceline said. She leaned back, propping herself up with her arms behind her. "Had Mathis married me, we would have united our lands but..." she said, trailing off for a moment as she thought about her own husband. "He is certainly no Michaël," she smiled.
Estella hummed something that sounded vaguely like agreement or understanding, but if anything, her face looked troubled for a split second before smoothing out again. Perhaps that was simply due to the evident discomfort of Romulus. “It seems like a stable situation now, at least. If that's it for now Lady Marceline, we should leave you to your work, perhaps." It was clear enough that she was asking mostly on behalf of Romulus, but there wasn't anything unkind in it.
"Of course. If anything changes, I will be sure to let you know," she said, rising to stand. "Thank you both for your presence today," she added, bowing in gratitude.