They cried out in rage to gods
Who did not answer.
And they would have vengeance upon
The gods of broken promises.
And through them, vengeance
On the Maker and His world.
-Canticle of Silence, 3:15
Who did not answer.
And they would have vengeance upon
The gods of broken promises.
And through them, vengeance
On the Maker and His world.
-Canticle of Silence, 3:15
The beam was very thin.
Of course, Rilien himself could traverse it without the faintest trace of difficulty. He didn't ask her to do anything he could not demonstrate himself, but that left a rather small number of things off the table. Apparently, deft maneuvers on inch-thick bars were not excluded. While she'd never been afraid of heights in any way, and the bar itself was only about four feet off the ground, the probability of taking a tumble was rather high.
Sturdiness was not a concern; she'd watched it hold Rilien's weight steadily through jumps and the like without even bending much. “Uh. If I fall, don't laugh too hard at me, please." Estella pursed her lips faintly in Ves's general direction, suspecting that it was an impossible request but making it anyway. They'd just finished warmups; Rilien had set her tasks for the next hour and disappeared upstairs, probably to take care of Spymaster business. He'd be back to check on her shortly, no doubt.
Holding her arms out to either side, she stepped up onto the bar, trying to get a sense for the feel of it under her boots. Maybe she should take them off for the first couple of passes? That had helped with the two-inch one she'd been working on before this.
"Saraya likes the way that teacher of yours thinks." Ves was not training, not currently anyway. He'd brought his gear along for when they would spar later, but for the moment he'd brought that bench from outside inside and he was sprawled out on it, his gear piled next to it behind his head. The lion pelt was a pillow now, and he held a book open in one hand. A recommendation Estella had made for him when he asked about an epic he might be interested in reading. In general he'd been coming around, to her office, and her practices, more and more, and he seemed to enjoy simply being there. Probably attempting to ensure she stayed sane. He never got in the way of her work, unless his presence itself was a distraction, which he was obviously not trying for.
"If it helps, I won't watch. Or I'll tell you some of the ways Saraya had me train a decade ago. Or I'll try that when you're done, make sure you can get a laugh, too." The corners of his lips quirked upwards. He probably meant he'd attempt it without Saraya's help.
She smiled, already feeling a bit better about her doubtless many future failures at this exercise. He had a way of doing that—making her feel like sometimes it wasn't so bad. She supposed the ever-present sense of humor had a lot to do with that, but part of it was surely just that baffling attentiveness of his, the way it just seemed to intrinsically matter what she thought or felt or wanted. Frankly she wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, but in this case at least, the answer was easy enough.
“I shan't deprive you of a good laugh, but perhaps either of the other possibilities will suffice to soothe my wounded pride." But she wasn't one to delay the inevitable, so, stretching her arms out to either side, she took her first step forward on the beam. The solidity was actually a bit jarring; she might have preferred a bit of give and flex in it. No doubt Rilien knew that and had very intentionally denied her any sliver of mercy. She was steady for the first three steps, balance solid enough, but she faltered on the fourth, tsking under her breath and rotating herself sideways for stability so her feet were perpendicular instead of parallel to the bar. Still she wobbled like an erratic pendulum, but she didn't give up, trying to find her center of balance again.
Recovery was a near thing, but she did it, breathing out a relieved sigh and allowing herself to stand still for a moment, to make sure she was actually properly centered again.
“You're too tentative." The voice came abruptly from behind her. Apparently, Rilien had returned earlier than he'd indicated planning to.
Estella never heard him approaching. Not ever. And, of course, it turned out she hadn't managed to center her balance well enough to recover from the little jump that his sudden words produced; she leaned forward too far and fell right off. The only consolation was that she managed to land on her feet instead of her face.
He paused long enough for her to collect herself, blinking slowly. “And also not paying attention to your surroundings. Ought I ask Vesryn to leave, next time?" The question was delivered as blandly as anything he ever said, but the flicker of amusement behind his eyes wasn't something she could miss anymore. That he wasn't serious was clear enough even to the uninitiated, because he handed her a parchment envelope rather than waiting for any kind of answer.
“This came for you. The seal is Arlesans; I thought you would wish to know as soon as it arrived."
Estella's brows arched; she felt a slightly-uncomfortable twist in her gut that she ignored, taking the envelope and examining the seal for a moment. Dark red wax; that was the right color, certainly. The elegant, almost beautiful handwriting on the front did in fact bear her name, and no reference to Lady Marceline or Rilien, through whom most of the Inquisition's official business was received. Frowning slightly, she flipped it back over and broke the seal, carefully extracting the letter inside.
She read over it several times before carefully folding it back over, pursing her lips into a thin line and glancing back up at Rilien. “Do you think you could get Leon and Lady Marceline in a meeting space of some kind in about half an hour? I'm going to need to request some Inquisition resources, I think."
“Of course." Rilien did not ask her why. Clearly, he simply assumed that her reasons for making such a request would be sufficient. “We will use the war room. I estimate approximately fifteen minutes, if neither of them are otherwise indisposed." He nodded, then exited the tower, apparently headed toward Leon's office first.
Ves snapped the book shut, setting it down on top of his gear and sitting upright, turning to put his feet on the ground. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. "Bad news?" His look was one of concern as much as curiosity, but the question as always wasn't asked forcefully.
She nodded. “A friend of mine. He's... in trouble." With a little sigh, she rolled out her shoulders. Practice would be cut short for today, it seemed. “He thinks—and I think—I might be able to help, though. So perhaps the bad news is only temporary." Estella tilted her head. “Mind coming with me to the meeting? I think I'm going to have to explain to Lady Marceline why letting me take a few of my friends to Val Royeaux to help another friend is a good idea. And we don't, um. See eye to eye on that kind of thing, sometimes."
Truthfully, she wasn't looking forward to the prospect.
"Sounds like a bit of a balancing act ahead of you." He stood, grabbing his cloak and smiling a little. "Sorry, that was terrible. 'Course I'll come."
She snorted in a rather embarrassingly unladylike way, but couldn't quite bring herself to care. The joke deserved it. “I'll be walking a thin line, to be sure," she drawled in reply, gathering up her gear to leave.
By the time she'd stowed everything in her office, it was about time to be in the war room anyway, so they made their way over directly, entering with no fanfare to find Rilien, Leon, and Lady Marceline were all already present. Estella offered a thin smile, standing on the opposite side of the map table from the three of them. “Sorry to call you here so suddenly," she said quietly. “But there's a request I'd like to make. If possible, I would like to take some members of the Irregulars to Val Royeaux, probably for about a week. A friend of mine, Julien D'Artignon, has requested my help. I intend to give it to him, but I know it's unwise of me to go alone."
Whatever Marceline thought of the request, it didn't appear on her face, but rather she took the news evenly. "What type of help, may I ask?" she predictably asked.
Estella pursed her lips. “He's been accused of treason and sedition against the crown. He maintains his innocence, and claims that he was framed. He has requested that I, as the Inquisitor and a neutral party with no political stake in the matter, conduct an investigation, as he believes his trial was too hasty." Given the timeline, she suspected he was right, but she wasn't sure what to make of it yet.
“He's been... he's been sentenced to death."
The news seemed to catch Lady Marceline by surprise, as the obvious shock managed to crack her even features. "Did you receive any other details on the matter? What has he been suspected of to be tried for treason?"
Estella hesitated. “He was... sparing with the details. Probably because he didn't want the letter to be intercepted. He's just asked that I hear him out, where he's being held. He's in La Flèche." Full name La Flèche Noire, it was Val Royeaux's prison tower for criminals whose crimes were either especially severe or committed directly against the Empress. Few who went there were expected to ever go anywhere else but the guillotine or the gallows. Estella knew Julien wasn't what anyone would call a crown loyalist, and she also knew he was more reckless and cavalier than he should be about his own reputation and arguably safety, but sedition?
She didn't think he was capable of that.
Lady Marceline was quiet and slipped into thought after that. She rested her chin on her hand as she stared into the map onto the table. She appeared to internally debate something within herself before she finally sighed and spoke again. "I apologize if this seems personal Estella, but I must ask. How close are you with the Marquis?"
It wasn't an unexpected question. She was asking quite a bit here, and while Rilien already knew the answers, or most of them, Estella knew it was only fair that she give the relevant information to the others as well. She sighed, glancing down at the letter in her hand, and the script that bore her name. Lady Inquisitor Estella Avenarius. He'd say something like that without a trace of irony, then laugh when she frowned at him for it, wave a hand and apologize: sorry, sorry. Stel.
“He's my friend," she repeated. “A dear one. Someone with a good heart, who doesn't deserve to die for something he didn't do." Maybe he had done it. But she liked to believe he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't lie about something so important. Even for him. So if it was her he was asking for help, then he was likely both innocent and truly desperate.
Once more Marceline took her time before she replied, most likely gauging and choosing her words well before she spoke them. "That may be so, but if it were only so easy," she said with a slight shake of her head. There remained a worried look to her face, even as she continued to gaze into Estella's face, like she was searching for something.
"You do understand the risks that involving yourself in this would pose?" Marceline asked, though she was still gentle in tone. "This will not be seen as you just aiding a personal friend, but as the Inquisition as a whole involving themselves in another governing body's justice system," she let the knowledge sit for a moment before she added, "I need not tell you in how many countless ways this intervention may be taken, or the risks posed to the Inquisition and our reputation. The actions you take may set an undesired precedent and reflect poorly back on us."
Estella pursed her lips, pulling in a deep breath. Precedents were indeed important, and she understood that very well. It was part of why she and Lady Marceline had argued the last time they spoke about something political. She straightened slightly. Though Rilien's expression was neutral as ever, she could see that Leon was a bit concerned too; he at least made no attempt to hide as much. Fortunately, she had an explanation that she thought would satisfy them, in terms of the Inquisition's interests, even if it wasn't the one she personally considered the most important.
She straightened, letting her shoulders fall back and her eyes move carefully between the three of them. “I understand the risk, but... viewed a certain way, the opportunity is greater." Estella glanced down at her hand, turning the letter over in her fingers for a moment while she gathered the words she wanted. “Think of how we must look to the rest of the world right now: a fledgling army grown strong, by absorbing nearly all the mages and templars left in the south, and volunteers from multiple nations. A body like that, only increasing in strength, holed up in an impressive fortress in the mountains, a place that's effectively neither Ferelden nor Orlais nor anywhere else." The effort it would take to get border patrols or any kind of decent force up the Frostbacks on any regular basis was far too much to bother with.
“And this army, this unknown, has already intervened in another country's civil war. Not to mention in the siege of an important Bannorn in another country. We've taken prisoners and judged them on our own, without input from the realms in which they've committed crimes. We exiled the Grey Wardens from the south, without so much as consulting anyone else. This organization is run, officially, by two people from the most hated country in Thedas and claims, or at least does not disclaim, some kind of... divine authority or privilege. We answer to no one but ourselves, and it's clear enough by our actions that we work well outside the bounds of political sovereignty that other people think are of utmost importance." She shook her head. “Right now, if I were a noble in some other country, I'd be quite wary of the Inquisition. Especially when there's so little evidence of what its moral character is. Fighting Corypheus hardly takes righteousness—only a desire to survive. They have no reason to believe anything especially good of us right now, and much reason to fear the worst—that we'll become a conquering army someday, when everything else is done."
She looked back up, expelling a breath from her nose. “This could be an opportunity to lay some of those fears to rest. To show that we are willing and able to act within the bounds of a nation's laws, and to show that what we're interested in is doing what is right. Julien hasn't promised the Inquisition anything, and I don't intend to ask him to. What he has done is ask for our help. If we find the truth, and bring it through the court system like everyone does, then we will be showing both that we respect the authority of Orlais over her citizens and also that we respect and care about justice. That we don't just sit idle when the innocent are maligned." Estella paused.
“With all due respect, those are things we need to do better at showing."
Marceline frowned. "There will be some who will not see it as such, but rather one more drastic overreach in our already questionable authority. This may provide them more ammunition against us, but..." she stated, before sighing, "You may be correct in that this may solidify support from those who do not understand yet where we sit and prove that we are able to peacefully coexist with other nations and act under their rule--if the best possible outcome were to occur," she added sharply. "If the opposite were to occur, then we may irrevocably damage our reputation, and sour the opinions of those we wished to gain trust from. It is risk, with an uncertain outcome."
She went quiet again before she appeared to have decided upon something internally, "Yet, it is clear where your heart lies, and I cannot fault that. I can only hope that others will see the act with the same sincerity as you do, if you were to succeed." She sighed and nodded her approval, though it was abundantly clear she still had a number of misgivings.
"Very well, I shall accompany you on this matter."
Estella was immediately uncomfortable with the suggestion, but she wasn't sure how to put the discomfort into words. At least not ones that would convey her point the way she wanted it. She hesitated for a long moment. Too long, surely. “Um. I was actually hoping to take Rilien, if that was all right. And Cy and Ves, too. I thought a small group would be for the best, and if there's something I really need to know about someone, well... I don't know anyone better at teaching me things I need to know than he is." She half-smiled at her teacher, who nodded his understanding, but it faded when she returned her eyes to Lady Marceline.
“I wouldn't want to take two of the three of you away from Skyhold, not for something like this. If possible, I'd like the disruption to our usual ways of doing things to be minimal." All of that was true, though... it certainly wasn't the whole truth.
Marceline frowned again, this time even deeper. "Lady Estella, though I do not doubt your skills and Rilien's, this will affect many an opinion in Orlais, and as such is a rather important matter. Larissa will be able handle my affairs in my absence, but I believe it is important that I assist you in any way that I possibly can, and I cannot do that while remaining at Skyhold."
Estella's shoulders slumped. This wasn't going well at all. Her eyes found the floor and she shifted, betraying her discomfort even as she kept her expression as neutral as she could. Biting the inside of her lip, she took a few breaths. Maybe Lady Marceline was right. Maybe there wasn't really any way she should be trusted to handle sensitive matters like this herself. It would be just typical, wouldn't it? She'd go into something, try her very hardest, and still not be good enough. Maybe she was letting other things, other successes, get to her head, but... if she tried a million times, surely even she was bound to succeed once or twice. Just by chance. Maybe... maybe it would be better, to bring along someone who really knew what they were doing so that if her successes had just been chance, then...
Maybe she should leave the important things to others. But Julien had asked for her help, and that didn't happen often. All of this was on her shoulders because of happenstance; surely she shouldn't be getting a big head now. The only things she'd accomplished were her accomplishments because of that. Because of things that weren't about her at all. The mark, or... or the rest of it. Those were really the things that mattered, weren't they? Her friends would say otherwise, but they were her friends—it was practically obligatory for them to think she mattered apart from all that. Much as she might want this to be about that, helping her friends, the truth was that it was so much bigger. And she wasn't equipped for bigger.
“If you really didn't doubt my skills, Lady Marceline," she said, smiling thinly, “I don't think you'd be insisting. But maybe you're right to doubt. You must be; I'm sure you know the court better than I do." She cleared her throat softly.
“Perhaps she knows the court better." Rilen's eyes were slightly narrowed. “But I am the one who knows you. You are adequate to the task. You would be without my assistance, though I am at your service if you so wish." He crossed his arms, his posture the closest thing to displeasure she might have ever seen him express. “If Lady Marceline needs evidence of your competence, she is welcome to take my words as such. And I am competent enough to handle a situation of this magnitude, as well as assess your capacity for the same." He said the last completely flatly, as though it should have been obvious. “I remind her that I have spent many years in court as well."
"I remember Ser Rilien, and that is why I believe that between the three of us, we will be able to come to a fitting resolution," she stated, nearly as evenly as Rilien. However, then her features went stone hard and she turned her attention back on Estella. "I do not know what opinions or regard that you believe that I hold you in, Lady Estella, but I assure you that they are quite a bit higher than you believe. I apologize if you feel as if my insistence is meant in anyway as an insult to you, or Ser Rilien," she said, sparing the Tranquil a glance, "But you must realize that I simply wish for you to employ every tool you have at your disposal, and that includes myself."
Her features softened, but did not entirely leave their even territory. "You must understand, that if my expertise would aid you in any way, then I would not hesitate in giving it at a moment's notice," She then sighed and her head dipped a fraction, "But, you are the Inquisitor, and if you believe that I am better served in Skyhold, then I will remain."
She was quiet for a time afterward and each moment that passed, the steel seemed to drain from her face. "One more thing I wish you to know, Estella," she said, though this time there was genuine emotion in her tone, "As a mother, worry comes to me easily. Each time one of you-- any of you-- leaves the Keep, I cannot help but worry for your wellbeing, and recent events only served to add to that. I fear... you may have misconstrued this worry as something else entirely, and for that I apologize."
Estella felt something uncomfortable drop into the pit of her stomach, remaining where it was despite her best efforts to dislodge it by force of will alone. Her eyes immediately fell back to the ground. But Rilien's confidence was enough to assure her that she was doing the right thing—she trusted her teacher absolutely. The thing to do was not make a big production of this: to conduct their investigation quietly and with the truth in mind, for the sake of a man she felt was likely to be innocent. There wasn't any need to drag anything into it beyond that. Deeds spoke for themselves. She'd seen people build real trust, real cooperation between very different parties by letting their honesty, forthrightness, and care show through in what they did, rather than what they said. Maybe she wasn't the best choice, but she'd had the best examples to learn from.
And if Rilien thought she could do those examples justice, then... she could. She could do this her way. Estella knew she had to try.
Swallowing, she took in a deep breath. “That's, um... that's kind of you, Lady Marceline. But I think—I think I should try to do this the way I was planning on doing it. You have my word that if we find ourselves in a bind, we'll send word. I'll be careful, and I'll trust Rilien to know better than me if we disagree." It was about all she could offer by way of reassurance.
Marceline's eyes flicked to Rilien for a moment, like she wanted to ask him something, but apparently she decided better of it and turned back instead to Estella. "Very well, Inquisitor. You do what you believe you must," Marceline said, slipping back into her guarded tone, though it felt even more so than the last time.
Estella worked not to flinch. Her eyebrows drew together a little, but she kept her face smooth and impassive, controlling her reaction to the shift back in tone by reminding herself of what Rilien had said. Ves's steady presence at her back helped, as did the fact that Leon at least favored her with his usual mild smile.
“We'll look after things while you're gone, of course, as I'm sure the others will as well. Best of luck, Estella."
She managed to smile a bit in return. “Thank you. I think I'll go find Cy, and then we'll leave early tomorrow morning. Leon. Rilien. Lady Marceline." She nodded to each in sequence, then turned on her heel to face the door. Estella was well aware that much of her hidden unease made it to her face when only Ves could see it, but she didn't linger long in the room, pushing the door open with the palm of her left hand and trying not to hurry out.
Of course, Rilien himself could traverse it without the faintest trace of difficulty. He didn't ask her to do anything he could not demonstrate himself, but that left a rather small number of things off the table. Apparently, deft maneuvers on inch-thick bars were not excluded. While she'd never been afraid of heights in any way, and the bar itself was only about four feet off the ground, the probability of taking a tumble was rather high.
Sturdiness was not a concern; she'd watched it hold Rilien's weight steadily through jumps and the like without even bending much. “Uh. If I fall, don't laugh too hard at me, please." Estella pursed her lips faintly in Ves's general direction, suspecting that it was an impossible request but making it anyway. They'd just finished warmups; Rilien had set her tasks for the next hour and disappeared upstairs, probably to take care of Spymaster business. He'd be back to check on her shortly, no doubt.
Holding her arms out to either side, she stepped up onto the bar, trying to get a sense for the feel of it under her boots. Maybe she should take them off for the first couple of passes? That had helped with the two-inch one she'd been working on before this.
"Saraya likes the way that teacher of yours thinks." Ves was not training, not currently anyway. He'd brought his gear along for when they would spar later, but for the moment he'd brought that bench from outside inside and he was sprawled out on it, his gear piled next to it behind his head. The lion pelt was a pillow now, and he held a book open in one hand. A recommendation Estella had made for him when he asked about an epic he might be interested in reading. In general he'd been coming around, to her office, and her practices, more and more, and he seemed to enjoy simply being there. Probably attempting to ensure she stayed sane. He never got in the way of her work, unless his presence itself was a distraction, which he was obviously not trying for.
"If it helps, I won't watch. Or I'll tell you some of the ways Saraya had me train a decade ago. Or I'll try that when you're done, make sure you can get a laugh, too." The corners of his lips quirked upwards. He probably meant he'd attempt it without Saraya's help.
She smiled, already feeling a bit better about her doubtless many future failures at this exercise. He had a way of doing that—making her feel like sometimes it wasn't so bad. She supposed the ever-present sense of humor had a lot to do with that, but part of it was surely just that baffling attentiveness of his, the way it just seemed to intrinsically matter what she thought or felt or wanted. Frankly she wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, but in this case at least, the answer was easy enough.
“I shan't deprive you of a good laugh, but perhaps either of the other possibilities will suffice to soothe my wounded pride." But she wasn't one to delay the inevitable, so, stretching her arms out to either side, she took her first step forward on the beam. The solidity was actually a bit jarring; she might have preferred a bit of give and flex in it. No doubt Rilien knew that and had very intentionally denied her any sliver of mercy. She was steady for the first three steps, balance solid enough, but she faltered on the fourth, tsking under her breath and rotating herself sideways for stability so her feet were perpendicular instead of parallel to the bar. Still she wobbled like an erratic pendulum, but she didn't give up, trying to find her center of balance again.
Recovery was a near thing, but she did it, breathing out a relieved sigh and allowing herself to stand still for a moment, to make sure she was actually properly centered again.
“You're too tentative." The voice came abruptly from behind her. Apparently, Rilien had returned earlier than he'd indicated planning to.
Estella never heard him approaching. Not ever. And, of course, it turned out she hadn't managed to center her balance well enough to recover from the little jump that his sudden words produced; she leaned forward too far and fell right off. The only consolation was that she managed to land on her feet instead of her face.
He paused long enough for her to collect herself, blinking slowly. “And also not paying attention to your surroundings. Ought I ask Vesryn to leave, next time?" The question was delivered as blandly as anything he ever said, but the flicker of amusement behind his eyes wasn't something she could miss anymore. That he wasn't serious was clear enough even to the uninitiated, because he handed her a parchment envelope rather than waiting for any kind of answer.
“This came for you. The seal is Arlesans; I thought you would wish to know as soon as it arrived."
Estella's brows arched; she felt a slightly-uncomfortable twist in her gut that she ignored, taking the envelope and examining the seal for a moment. Dark red wax; that was the right color, certainly. The elegant, almost beautiful handwriting on the front did in fact bear her name, and no reference to Lady Marceline or Rilien, through whom most of the Inquisition's official business was received. Frowning slightly, she flipped it back over and broke the seal, carefully extracting the letter inside.
She read over it several times before carefully folding it back over, pursing her lips into a thin line and glancing back up at Rilien. “Do you think you could get Leon and Lady Marceline in a meeting space of some kind in about half an hour? I'm going to need to request some Inquisition resources, I think."
“Of course." Rilien did not ask her why. Clearly, he simply assumed that her reasons for making such a request would be sufficient. “We will use the war room. I estimate approximately fifteen minutes, if neither of them are otherwise indisposed." He nodded, then exited the tower, apparently headed toward Leon's office first.
Ves snapped the book shut, setting it down on top of his gear and sitting upright, turning to put his feet on the ground. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. "Bad news?" His look was one of concern as much as curiosity, but the question as always wasn't asked forcefully.
She nodded. “A friend of mine. He's... in trouble." With a little sigh, she rolled out her shoulders. Practice would be cut short for today, it seemed. “He thinks—and I think—I might be able to help, though. So perhaps the bad news is only temporary." Estella tilted her head. “Mind coming with me to the meeting? I think I'm going to have to explain to Lady Marceline why letting me take a few of my friends to Val Royeaux to help another friend is a good idea. And we don't, um. See eye to eye on that kind of thing, sometimes."
Truthfully, she wasn't looking forward to the prospect.
"Sounds like a bit of a balancing act ahead of you." He stood, grabbing his cloak and smiling a little. "Sorry, that was terrible. 'Course I'll come."
She snorted in a rather embarrassingly unladylike way, but couldn't quite bring herself to care. The joke deserved it. “I'll be walking a thin line, to be sure," she drawled in reply, gathering up her gear to leave.
By the time she'd stowed everything in her office, it was about time to be in the war room anyway, so they made their way over directly, entering with no fanfare to find Rilien, Leon, and Lady Marceline were all already present. Estella offered a thin smile, standing on the opposite side of the map table from the three of them. “Sorry to call you here so suddenly," she said quietly. “But there's a request I'd like to make. If possible, I would like to take some members of the Irregulars to Val Royeaux, probably for about a week. A friend of mine, Julien D'Artignon, has requested my help. I intend to give it to him, but I know it's unwise of me to go alone."
Whatever Marceline thought of the request, it didn't appear on her face, but rather she took the news evenly. "What type of help, may I ask?" she predictably asked.
Estella pursed her lips. “He's been accused of treason and sedition against the crown. He maintains his innocence, and claims that he was framed. He has requested that I, as the Inquisitor and a neutral party with no political stake in the matter, conduct an investigation, as he believes his trial was too hasty." Given the timeline, she suspected he was right, but she wasn't sure what to make of it yet.
“He's been... he's been sentenced to death."
The news seemed to catch Lady Marceline by surprise, as the obvious shock managed to crack her even features. "Did you receive any other details on the matter? What has he been suspected of to be tried for treason?"
Estella hesitated. “He was... sparing with the details. Probably because he didn't want the letter to be intercepted. He's just asked that I hear him out, where he's being held. He's in La Flèche." Full name La Flèche Noire, it was Val Royeaux's prison tower for criminals whose crimes were either especially severe or committed directly against the Empress. Few who went there were expected to ever go anywhere else but the guillotine or the gallows. Estella knew Julien wasn't what anyone would call a crown loyalist, and she also knew he was more reckless and cavalier than he should be about his own reputation and arguably safety, but sedition?
She didn't think he was capable of that.
Lady Marceline was quiet and slipped into thought after that. She rested her chin on her hand as she stared into the map onto the table. She appeared to internally debate something within herself before she finally sighed and spoke again. "I apologize if this seems personal Estella, but I must ask. How close are you with the Marquis?"
It wasn't an unexpected question. She was asking quite a bit here, and while Rilien already knew the answers, or most of them, Estella knew it was only fair that she give the relevant information to the others as well. She sighed, glancing down at the letter in her hand, and the script that bore her name. Lady Inquisitor Estella Avenarius. He'd say something like that without a trace of irony, then laugh when she frowned at him for it, wave a hand and apologize: sorry, sorry. Stel.
“He's my friend," she repeated. “A dear one. Someone with a good heart, who doesn't deserve to die for something he didn't do." Maybe he had done it. But she liked to believe he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't lie about something so important. Even for him. So if it was her he was asking for help, then he was likely both innocent and truly desperate.
Once more Marceline took her time before she replied, most likely gauging and choosing her words well before she spoke them. "That may be so, but if it were only so easy," she said with a slight shake of her head. There remained a worried look to her face, even as she continued to gaze into Estella's face, like she was searching for something.
"You do understand the risks that involving yourself in this would pose?" Marceline asked, though she was still gentle in tone. "This will not be seen as you just aiding a personal friend, but as the Inquisition as a whole involving themselves in another governing body's justice system," she let the knowledge sit for a moment before she added, "I need not tell you in how many countless ways this intervention may be taken, or the risks posed to the Inquisition and our reputation. The actions you take may set an undesired precedent and reflect poorly back on us."
Estella pursed her lips, pulling in a deep breath. Precedents were indeed important, and she understood that very well. It was part of why she and Lady Marceline had argued the last time they spoke about something political. She straightened slightly. Though Rilien's expression was neutral as ever, she could see that Leon was a bit concerned too; he at least made no attempt to hide as much. Fortunately, she had an explanation that she thought would satisfy them, in terms of the Inquisition's interests, even if it wasn't the one she personally considered the most important.
She straightened, letting her shoulders fall back and her eyes move carefully between the three of them. “I understand the risk, but... viewed a certain way, the opportunity is greater." Estella glanced down at her hand, turning the letter over in her fingers for a moment while she gathered the words she wanted. “Think of how we must look to the rest of the world right now: a fledgling army grown strong, by absorbing nearly all the mages and templars left in the south, and volunteers from multiple nations. A body like that, only increasing in strength, holed up in an impressive fortress in the mountains, a place that's effectively neither Ferelden nor Orlais nor anywhere else." The effort it would take to get border patrols or any kind of decent force up the Frostbacks on any regular basis was far too much to bother with.
“And this army, this unknown, has already intervened in another country's civil war. Not to mention in the siege of an important Bannorn in another country. We've taken prisoners and judged them on our own, without input from the realms in which they've committed crimes. We exiled the Grey Wardens from the south, without so much as consulting anyone else. This organization is run, officially, by two people from the most hated country in Thedas and claims, or at least does not disclaim, some kind of... divine authority or privilege. We answer to no one but ourselves, and it's clear enough by our actions that we work well outside the bounds of political sovereignty that other people think are of utmost importance." She shook her head. “Right now, if I were a noble in some other country, I'd be quite wary of the Inquisition. Especially when there's so little evidence of what its moral character is. Fighting Corypheus hardly takes righteousness—only a desire to survive. They have no reason to believe anything especially good of us right now, and much reason to fear the worst—that we'll become a conquering army someday, when everything else is done."
She looked back up, expelling a breath from her nose. “This could be an opportunity to lay some of those fears to rest. To show that we are willing and able to act within the bounds of a nation's laws, and to show that what we're interested in is doing what is right. Julien hasn't promised the Inquisition anything, and I don't intend to ask him to. What he has done is ask for our help. If we find the truth, and bring it through the court system like everyone does, then we will be showing both that we respect the authority of Orlais over her citizens and also that we respect and care about justice. That we don't just sit idle when the innocent are maligned." Estella paused.
“With all due respect, those are things we need to do better at showing."
Marceline frowned. "There will be some who will not see it as such, but rather one more drastic overreach in our already questionable authority. This may provide them more ammunition against us, but..." she stated, before sighing, "You may be correct in that this may solidify support from those who do not understand yet where we sit and prove that we are able to peacefully coexist with other nations and act under their rule--if the best possible outcome were to occur," she added sharply. "If the opposite were to occur, then we may irrevocably damage our reputation, and sour the opinions of those we wished to gain trust from. It is risk, with an uncertain outcome."
She went quiet again before she appeared to have decided upon something internally, "Yet, it is clear where your heart lies, and I cannot fault that. I can only hope that others will see the act with the same sincerity as you do, if you were to succeed." She sighed and nodded her approval, though it was abundantly clear she still had a number of misgivings.
"Very well, I shall accompany you on this matter."
Estella was immediately uncomfortable with the suggestion, but she wasn't sure how to put the discomfort into words. At least not ones that would convey her point the way she wanted it. She hesitated for a long moment. Too long, surely. “Um. I was actually hoping to take Rilien, if that was all right. And Cy and Ves, too. I thought a small group would be for the best, and if there's something I really need to know about someone, well... I don't know anyone better at teaching me things I need to know than he is." She half-smiled at her teacher, who nodded his understanding, but it faded when she returned her eyes to Lady Marceline.
“I wouldn't want to take two of the three of you away from Skyhold, not for something like this. If possible, I'd like the disruption to our usual ways of doing things to be minimal." All of that was true, though... it certainly wasn't the whole truth.
Marceline frowned again, this time even deeper. "Lady Estella, though I do not doubt your skills and Rilien's, this will affect many an opinion in Orlais, and as such is a rather important matter. Larissa will be able handle my affairs in my absence, but I believe it is important that I assist you in any way that I possibly can, and I cannot do that while remaining at Skyhold."
Estella's shoulders slumped. This wasn't going well at all. Her eyes found the floor and she shifted, betraying her discomfort even as she kept her expression as neutral as she could. Biting the inside of her lip, she took a few breaths. Maybe Lady Marceline was right. Maybe there wasn't really any way she should be trusted to handle sensitive matters like this herself. It would be just typical, wouldn't it? She'd go into something, try her very hardest, and still not be good enough. Maybe she was letting other things, other successes, get to her head, but... if she tried a million times, surely even she was bound to succeed once or twice. Just by chance. Maybe... maybe it would be better, to bring along someone who really knew what they were doing so that if her successes had just been chance, then...
Maybe she should leave the important things to others. But Julien had asked for her help, and that didn't happen often. All of this was on her shoulders because of happenstance; surely she shouldn't be getting a big head now. The only things she'd accomplished were her accomplishments because of that. Because of things that weren't about her at all. The mark, or... or the rest of it. Those were really the things that mattered, weren't they? Her friends would say otherwise, but they were her friends—it was practically obligatory for them to think she mattered apart from all that. Much as she might want this to be about that, helping her friends, the truth was that it was so much bigger. And she wasn't equipped for bigger.
“If you really didn't doubt my skills, Lady Marceline," she said, smiling thinly, “I don't think you'd be insisting. But maybe you're right to doubt. You must be; I'm sure you know the court better than I do." She cleared her throat softly.
“Perhaps she knows the court better." Rilen's eyes were slightly narrowed. “But I am the one who knows you. You are adequate to the task. You would be without my assistance, though I am at your service if you so wish." He crossed his arms, his posture the closest thing to displeasure she might have ever seen him express. “If Lady Marceline needs evidence of your competence, she is welcome to take my words as such. And I am competent enough to handle a situation of this magnitude, as well as assess your capacity for the same." He said the last completely flatly, as though it should have been obvious. “I remind her that I have spent many years in court as well."
"I remember Ser Rilien, and that is why I believe that between the three of us, we will be able to come to a fitting resolution," she stated, nearly as evenly as Rilien. However, then her features went stone hard and she turned her attention back on Estella. "I do not know what opinions or regard that you believe that I hold you in, Lady Estella, but I assure you that they are quite a bit higher than you believe. I apologize if you feel as if my insistence is meant in anyway as an insult to you, or Ser Rilien," she said, sparing the Tranquil a glance, "But you must realize that I simply wish for you to employ every tool you have at your disposal, and that includes myself."
Her features softened, but did not entirely leave their even territory. "You must understand, that if my expertise would aid you in any way, then I would not hesitate in giving it at a moment's notice," She then sighed and her head dipped a fraction, "But, you are the Inquisitor, and if you believe that I am better served in Skyhold, then I will remain."
She was quiet for a time afterward and each moment that passed, the steel seemed to drain from her face. "One more thing I wish you to know, Estella," she said, though this time there was genuine emotion in her tone, "As a mother, worry comes to me easily. Each time one of you-- any of you-- leaves the Keep, I cannot help but worry for your wellbeing, and recent events only served to add to that. I fear... you may have misconstrued this worry as something else entirely, and for that I apologize."
Estella felt something uncomfortable drop into the pit of her stomach, remaining where it was despite her best efforts to dislodge it by force of will alone. Her eyes immediately fell back to the ground. But Rilien's confidence was enough to assure her that she was doing the right thing—she trusted her teacher absolutely. The thing to do was not make a big production of this: to conduct their investigation quietly and with the truth in mind, for the sake of a man she felt was likely to be innocent. There wasn't any need to drag anything into it beyond that. Deeds spoke for themselves. She'd seen people build real trust, real cooperation between very different parties by letting their honesty, forthrightness, and care show through in what they did, rather than what they said. Maybe she wasn't the best choice, but she'd had the best examples to learn from.
And if Rilien thought she could do those examples justice, then... she could. She could do this her way. Estella knew she had to try.
Swallowing, she took in a deep breath. “That's, um... that's kind of you, Lady Marceline. But I think—I think I should try to do this the way I was planning on doing it. You have my word that if we find ourselves in a bind, we'll send word. I'll be careful, and I'll trust Rilien to know better than me if we disagree." It was about all she could offer by way of reassurance.
Marceline's eyes flicked to Rilien for a moment, like she wanted to ask him something, but apparently she decided better of it and turned back instead to Estella. "Very well, Inquisitor. You do what you believe you must," Marceline said, slipping back into her guarded tone, though it felt even more so than the last time.
Estella worked not to flinch. Her eyebrows drew together a little, but she kept her face smooth and impassive, controlling her reaction to the shift back in tone by reminding herself of what Rilien had said. Ves's steady presence at her back helped, as did the fact that Leon at least favored her with his usual mild smile.
“We'll look after things while you're gone, of course, as I'm sure the others will as well. Best of luck, Estella."
She managed to smile a bit in return. “Thank you. I think I'll go find Cy, and then we'll leave early tomorrow morning. Leon. Rilien. Lady Marceline." She nodded to each in sequence, then turned on her heel to face the door. Estella was well aware that much of her hidden unease made it to her face when only Ves could see it, but she didn't linger long in the room, pushing the door open with the palm of her left hand and trying not to hurry out.