It felt as if it'd been ages since she'd last left her office. Marceline began to suspect that she spent more time in that little room than out of it, reading and rereading letters and reports, as well as writing a number herself. However, with Larissa and Félicité acting as an aide and Pierre lingering nearby more often, she found the work to be far more manageable with more hands. It was actually one of the reasons she was able to find herself outside the doors of her office without a sense that there was something that required her attention. When she left, they had only a small amount of correspondence to respond to, and nothing that required her personal attention.
Estella and the others had returned to Skyhold about a week ago, along with word that Julien received a stay of execution, and the fact that there was no great backlash for the Inquisition as a result. It appeared that they had all acquitted themselves very well, and was no small burden that was lifted from her mind. With her newly found free time, Marceline used it to brew tea over the fireplace in her office. She had heard from Leon that Estella was particularly fond of tea, and had actually went so far as to donate from his own supply. So it was that she crossed the short distance between her office and Estella's on the other side of the main hall.
The teapot still steamed on the tray she carried, accompanied with a few cups and tins of milk and sugar. Once she reached Estella's door, she transferred the tray to one hand so that she was able to knock with the other, before she renewed the grip and awaited the answer.
It was not Estella that answered the door, but Vesryn. The tall elf pulled it open wide, stepping back as he did with a broad smile. He looked to be in rather high spirits. He held the door with one hand, leaning on it slightly, eyes dropping for a moment to the tea. His other hand held open a book, the pages against his leg.
"Hello," he greeted amicably. "That smells excellent."
"Hello Serah Vesryn," Marceline answered with a dainty curtsy. She then took a glance down at the teapot on the tray and spoke again, "I agree. Lemongrass, I believe," she said, with a rise of her brow. At least, that was what Leon said. "I was told that Lady Estella was fond of tea, and since I am not busy at the moment, I thought we could share. If," she added, her eyes drifting past Vesryn and into Estella's office proper, "She is likewise unoccupied."
“Lady Marceline?" She couldn't quite see Estella, but apparently the Inquisitor had heard her voice. A moment later, she appeared next to Vesryn, head tilted to the side. Her eyes fell to the tea tray, then widened with something like surprise. “Oh, um, of course. Please, come in. You can set that down right on the table over here." She ducked back into the room, shuffling the remnants of what looked like an earlier meal for two off the low table settled in the midst of a cluster of armchairs.
The office as a whole was decorated comfortably, but not in any way that could be described as ornate. From the bookshelves molded to the curved wall about halfway around, it served more than the one purpose, and the furniture reflected that as well. It was clear that Estella had visitors quite regularly, and touches of those presences still lingered. One of the end tables had a thick magical text on it, a few pages of parchment tucked into the front. A thick, dark green roughspun blanket was folded neatly over the back of a couch on the other side, a bit at-odds with the rest of the colors in the room. A lute was propped against the wall behind the desk, and of course Vesryn himself was physically present, apparently not just for a quick drop-in, either.
Estella was, as a rule, rather skilled in concealing her emotions, but discomfort lingered in the slight jerkiness of her movements, and she moved around the papers on the desk without really committing to putting them anywhere. Letters, it seemed, though it was impossible to tell from this distance who they were to or from. “Please, um... make yourself comfortable. Anywhere's fine, of course."
Marceline nodded and placed the tray where she was told before taking another glance around the room. Her eyes lingered on the lute for a moment before she turned back to Estella and smiled. "Thank you, but," she said first alighting on the papers on her desk, and then Vesyrn before she continued, "You are sure that I am not intruding, yes?" She said, something approaching apology in her tone.
"Not at all," Vesryn answered, letting the door swing back almost closed as he walked over to the desk. He was the first to help himself to some of the tea, pouring a cup before he headed back over to the couch. His hard-to-miss lion pelt cloak was draped over one arm of it, and it was this arm his propped his head against when he settled back down. "I'll just be reading over here. And thank you for the tea." He smiled, propping one hand behind his head and lifting the book back up before his eyes.
Estella looked indecisive for a moment, before her expression smoothed over again and she left her spot behind the desk, approaching the table and pouring another cup of tea. She set it on the side of the table closest to Marceline with a tentative smile before getting herself one as well. She spooned a little bit of sugar into it before perching herself on the end of one of the armchairs, angling her legs to the side and crossing them at the ankles. She appeared to be without shoes, thick socks serving for warmth as winter drew near.
She inhaled the scent of the tea and visibly eased, just a fraction, taking a sip before she ventured to speak. “Thank you for the tea, Lady Marceline. I'm... a bit surprised to see you, if I may say so." Estella's smile faded a bit, though she didn't seem to be unhappy, exactly. Maybe only a bit uncomfortable, or puzzled. “N-not that you're unwelcome of course. Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
Marceline accepted the tea with a nod of gratitude and added a spoonful of sugar and milk to go with it. She spent a moment absently stirring the cup, before she shook her head. "It is nothing serious," she answered pulling the spoon from her tea cup and watched as the liquid stopped spinning. Finally, she deigned to take a sip of it herself and smiled with the taste. It was good tea, as far as tea went. "I just wanted to ask how Val Royeaux went."
Estella considered that for a moment, wrapping her hands around her teacup. A little curl of steam wafted from the surface of the liquid inside. The Inquisitor's expression was thoughtful when she replied. “I think it went about as well as it could have, honestly. I'd have preferred to be able to free Julien, but he seems quite happy with how things ended up, and it's probably better to let the retrial proceed as normal." Something seemed to occur to her a moment later, and she brightened a little. “Oh. I might not have said this earlier, but... he's planning to help us. The Inquisition. Arlesans is good farmland, and he's offered to send us food as soon as he can."
Marceline smiled, "That is good to hear, I am glad that everything worked out well, and our forces will certainly enjoy the extra food." She then took another sip of her tea before she gazed at Estella once more, this time a look of curiosity in her features. She spoke before it turned into an awkward stare, "Tell me Estella," she said, placing the teacup back onto its plate, "When was the last time you were in Court? Aside from the most recent instance, of course," Marceline asked.
Estella's brows knit a little bit. “Well... 'court' isn't usually the right word for what I did. I didn't really go to any major formal gatherings or anything. But, um, I had friends who moved in those circles. Some of them I was around regularly up until the Conclave happened." Her eyes fell at the mention of that, but she seemed to gather herself rather quickly. “Being Rilien's student means I've met a lot of Lady Aurelie's bards, of course; some of them are around the same age as me, and I used to spend a fair amount of time at The Roost. Other than that, well... I've worked for a few people, and made a few friends that way."
A small smile tugged at her mouth. “It's not like I've ever bent a Grand Duke's ear or anything. Most of the people I know aren't really, um." The expression faded. “Well, Julien has the most status, and he's a bit... well, most of his peers aren't fond of him, whatever they might say to his face." Draining the last of her tea, Estella poured herself another, glancing up at Marceline while she stirred in the sugar. “I'm sure it's quite a different experience from yours, right?"
Marceline's head tilted side to side and she thought, indicating that maybe their experiences weren't worlds apart. "Not entirely, there's certainly some overlap. I have been privy to the formal gatherings yes, but..." she began, shrugging, "You are not missing much. Many are there just to be there and be seen," she said with a shrug. "Myself included," she admitted. It was part of the game, to be seen, and to one-up your peers in status and appearance.
"Speaking of Lady Aurelie's bards, tell me, is the name Swallow familiar?" Marceline asked in curiosity.
Estella nodded once. “It's Larissa's nom de guerre, isn't it? Rilien mentioned that to me once. We never met back then, but I guess she's been working for you for quite a while, so that makes sense."
"She has," Marceline nodded, "Long enough to have acted as Pierre's nanny when he was younger," she revealed with a chuckle, "I do not know if you have had the pleasure of hearing it yet, but Larissa has an exquisite singing voice--thus the songbird nom de guerre. Used to be, Pierre could not sleep unless she sang to him," she smiled, but there was a dull ache when she said it, and the smile slowly melted away. "She looked after him when I had to leave to be present for important engagements. I suppose she still does," she stated.
“It must have been hard, though," Estella said quietly. “Even knowing he was in good hands, knowing that they weren't yours." She sat back a little, pulling her legs up to tuck into the armchair next to her. “I guess... I don't really know much about that, from either side of it, really. But being away from your home so often for court things... that seems like it would be difficult. Especially if you had a family there waiting." She appeared to be thinking about something in particular then, because her face took on a sort of troubled expression for just a moment before she smoothed it away.
“I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be presumptive. It's not really any of my business or anything, so, um. You just looked a little..." She didn't finish the sentence, perhaps trusting that what she'd already said was sufficient.
Marceline raised her hand, and shook her head in a gesture that was meant to say that no harm had been done. "It's fine Estella, truly," then she smiled, though it was one of melancholy. "It is still hard, I'm afraid. I still feel as if I am keeping them waiting, even with them here. I fear my work gets more attention than they do."
She paused for a moment before she gave Estella another apologetic smile, "I apologize, Estella, it's my turn to be sorry. I did not mean to put my problems on you."
Estella shook her head at once, and rather emphatically. “Please don't apologize for that, Lady Marceline. There's no need. You're not burdening me with anything. And... I'm glad you felt like you could tell me that. I'm not—" she hesitated. “I hope you don't see me as unreasonable, or childish or anything. I know we've... disagreed. Especially recently. And I'll be honest, I think we're likely to disagree in the future. We're very different, after all." She smiled a little wryly, glancing down into the cup she held atop her knee and letting the expression fade.
“But that's... it's okay. To disagree. I want you to know that I'm not... I'm not against you. Even when we do." She hummed almost uncertainly, like the words weren't quite the ones she wanted. “I'm always willing to listen to what you have to say. If it's about the Inquisition, or even if it's just about... other things. I'm sure you have your family for that, but if you ever feel like someone else's perspective would make a difference, well. For whatever it's worth, you can have mine." She cleared her throat a tad awkwardly. “Not that I have anything so wise to say about this. I bet... I bet you could afford a few more breaks, though. The letters aren't always as urgent as they seem, I know that much. Not when you stack them up next to the other things. Simple as they might be by comparison."
Her eyes flicked to Vesryn, still reading, for half a second, but then she returned them to Marceline. “We're only mortal, Lady Marceline, temporary and flawed and fragile. I think it's okay to act like it sometimes." Estella offered a thin smile.
Marceline nodded, though she didn't immediately say anything. Eventually however, she said something. "You are kind, Estella," She said, quieter than before, but with a warm smile, "Thank you." She was quiet again, and thoughtful, before she spoke once more. "You are correct, about needing breaks. This," she said, gesturing toward the tea set in front of them, "This was nice. I would like to do this more, if you would be so kind as to entertain me."
Almost immediately, the Inquisitor nodded, her smile strengthening until it no longer looked like it would crack and fall away at any moment. “Of course. I'd be glad to. Maybe next time, we could go for a walk? The fresh air often helps me put things in perspective. I'm sure we both spend more time than we should in offices, anyway."
"Perhaps next time we can talk of something more... cheerful," Lady Marceline offered.
Estella and the others had returned to Skyhold about a week ago, along with word that Julien received a stay of execution, and the fact that there was no great backlash for the Inquisition as a result. It appeared that they had all acquitted themselves very well, and was no small burden that was lifted from her mind. With her newly found free time, Marceline used it to brew tea over the fireplace in her office. She had heard from Leon that Estella was particularly fond of tea, and had actually went so far as to donate from his own supply. So it was that she crossed the short distance between her office and Estella's on the other side of the main hall.
The teapot still steamed on the tray she carried, accompanied with a few cups and tins of milk and sugar. Once she reached Estella's door, she transferred the tray to one hand so that she was able to knock with the other, before she renewed the grip and awaited the answer.
It was not Estella that answered the door, but Vesryn. The tall elf pulled it open wide, stepping back as he did with a broad smile. He looked to be in rather high spirits. He held the door with one hand, leaning on it slightly, eyes dropping for a moment to the tea. His other hand held open a book, the pages against his leg.
"Hello," he greeted amicably. "That smells excellent."
"Hello Serah Vesryn," Marceline answered with a dainty curtsy. She then took a glance down at the teapot on the tray and spoke again, "I agree. Lemongrass, I believe," she said, with a rise of her brow. At least, that was what Leon said. "I was told that Lady Estella was fond of tea, and since I am not busy at the moment, I thought we could share. If," she added, her eyes drifting past Vesryn and into Estella's office proper, "She is likewise unoccupied."
“Lady Marceline?" She couldn't quite see Estella, but apparently the Inquisitor had heard her voice. A moment later, she appeared next to Vesryn, head tilted to the side. Her eyes fell to the tea tray, then widened with something like surprise. “Oh, um, of course. Please, come in. You can set that down right on the table over here." She ducked back into the room, shuffling the remnants of what looked like an earlier meal for two off the low table settled in the midst of a cluster of armchairs.
The office as a whole was decorated comfortably, but not in any way that could be described as ornate. From the bookshelves molded to the curved wall about halfway around, it served more than the one purpose, and the furniture reflected that as well. It was clear that Estella had visitors quite regularly, and touches of those presences still lingered. One of the end tables had a thick magical text on it, a few pages of parchment tucked into the front. A thick, dark green roughspun blanket was folded neatly over the back of a couch on the other side, a bit at-odds with the rest of the colors in the room. A lute was propped against the wall behind the desk, and of course Vesryn himself was physically present, apparently not just for a quick drop-in, either.
Estella was, as a rule, rather skilled in concealing her emotions, but discomfort lingered in the slight jerkiness of her movements, and she moved around the papers on the desk without really committing to putting them anywhere. Letters, it seemed, though it was impossible to tell from this distance who they were to or from. “Please, um... make yourself comfortable. Anywhere's fine, of course."
Marceline nodded and placed the tray where she was told before taking another glance around the room. Her eyes lingered on the lute for a moment before she turned back to Estella and smiled. "Thank you, but," she said first alighting on the papers on her desk, and then Vesyrn before she continued, "You are sure that I am not intruding, yes?" She said, something approaching apology in her tone.
"Not at all," Vesryn answered, letting the door swing back almost closed as he walked over to the desk. He was the first to help himself to some of the tea, pouring a cup before he headed back over to the couch. His hard-to-miss lion pelt cloak was draped over one arm of it, and it was this arm his propped his head against when he settled back down. "I'll just be reading over here. And thank you for the tea." He smiled, propping one hand behind his head and lifting the book back up before his eyes.
Estella looked indecisive for a moment, before her expression smoothed over again and she left her spot behind the desk, approaching the table and pouring another cup of tea. She set it on the side of the table closest to Marceline with a tentative smile before getting herself one as well. She spooned a little bit of sugar into it before perching herself on the end of one of the armchairs, angling her legs to the side and crossing them at the ankles. She appeared to be without shoes, thick socks serving for warmth as winter drew near.
She inhaled the scent of the tea and visibly eased, just a fraction, taking a sip before she ventured to speak. “Thank you for the tea, Lady Marceline. I'm... a bit surprised to see you, if I may say so." Estella's smile faded a bit, though she didn't seem to be unhappy, exactly. Maybe only a bit uncomfortable, or puzzled. “N-not that you're unwelcome of course. Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
Marceline accepted the tea with a nod of gratitude and added a spoonful of sugar and milk to go with it. She spent a moment absently stirring the cup, before she shook her head. "It is nothing serious," she answered pulling the spoon from her tea cup and watched as the liquid stopped spinning. Finally, she deigned to take a sip of it herself and smiled with the taste. It was good tea, as far as tea went. "I just wanted to ask how Val Royeaux went."
Estella considered that for a moment, wrapping her hands around her teacup. A little curl of steam wafted from the surface of the liquid inside. The Inquisitor's expression was thoughtful when she replied. “I think it went about as well as it could have, honestly. I'd have preferred to be able to free Julien, but he seems quite happy with how things ended up, and it's probably better to let the retrial proceed as normal." Something seemed to occur to her a moment later, and she brightened a little. “Oh. I might not have said this earlier, but... he's planning to help us. The Inquisition. Arlesans is good farmland, and he's offered to send us food as soon as he can."
Marceline smiled, "That is good to hear, I am glad that everything worked out well, and our forces will certainly enjoy the extra food." She then took another sip of her tea before she gazed at Estella once more, this time a look of curiosity in her features. She spoke before it turned into an awkward stare, "Tell me Estella," she said, placing the teacup back onto its plate, "When was the last time you were in Court? Aside from the most recent instance, of course," Marceline asked.
Estella's brows knit a little bit. “Well... 'court' isn't usually the right word for what I did. I didn't really go to any major formal gatherings or anything. But, um, I had friends who moved in those circles. Some of them I was around regularly up until the Conclave happened." Her eyes fell at the mention of that, but she seemed to gather herself rather quickly. “Being Rilien's student means I've met a lot of Lady Aurelie's bards, of course; some of them are around the same age as me, and I used to spend a fair amount of time at The Roost. Other than that, well... I've worked for a few people, and made a few friends that way."
A small smile tugged at her mouth. “It's not like I've ever bent a Grand Duke's ear or anything. Most of the people I know aren't really, um." The expression faded. “Well, Julien has the most status, and he's a bit... well, most of his peers aren't fond of him, whatever they might say to his face." Draining the last of her tea, Estella poured herself another, glancing up at Marceline while she stirred in the sugar. “I'm sure it's quite a different experience from yours, right?"
Marceline's head tilted side to side and she thought, indicating that maybe their experiences weren't worlds apart. "Not entirely, there's certainly some overlap. I have been privy to the formal gatherings yes, but..." she began, shrugging, "You are not missing much. Many are there just to be there and be seen," she said with a shrug. "Myself included," she admitted. It was part of the game, to be seen, and to one-up your peers in status and appearance.
"Speaking of Lady Aurelie's bards, tell me, is the name Swallow familiar?" Marceline asked in curiosity.
Estella nodded once. “It's Larissa's nom de guerre, isn't it? Rilien mentioned that to me once. We never met back then, but I guess she's been working for you for quite a while, so that makes sense."
"She has," Marceline nodded, "Long enough to have acted as Pierre's nanny when he was younger," she revealed with a chuckle, "I do not know if you have had the pleasure of hearing it yet, but Larissa has an exquisite singing voice--thus the songbird nom de guerre. Used to be, Pierre could not sleep unless she sang to him," she smiled, but there was a dull ache when she said it, and the smile slowly melted away. "She looked after him when I had to leave to be present for important engagements. I suppose she still does," she stated.
“It must have been hard, though," Estella said quietly. “Even knowing he was in good hands, knowing that they weren't yours." She sat back a little, pulling her legs up to tuck into the armchair next to her. “I guess... I don't really know much about that, from either side of it, really. But being away from your home so often for court things... that seems like it would be difficult. Especially if you had a family there waiting." She appeared to be thinking about something in particular then, because her face took on a sort of troubled expression for just a moment before she smoothed it away.
“I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be presumptive. It's not really any of my business or anything, so, um. You just looked a little..." She didn't finish the sentence, perhaps trusting that what she'd already said was sufficient.
Marceline raised her hand, and shook her head in a gesture that was meant to say that no harm had been done. "It's fine Estella, truly," then she smiled, though it was one of melancholy. "It is still hard, I'm afraid. I still feel as if I am keeping them waiting, even with them here. I fear my work gets more attention than they do."
She paused for a moment before she gave Estella another apologetic smile, "I apologize, Estella, it's my turn to be sorry. I did not mean to put my problems on you."
Estella shook her head at once, and rather emphatically. “Please don't apologize for that, Lady Marceline. There's no need. You're not burdening me with anything. And... I'm glad you felt like you could tell me that. I'm not—" she hesitated. “I hope you don't see me as unreasonable, or childish or anything. I know we've... disagreed. Especially recently. And I'll be honest, I think we're likely to disagree in the future. We're very different, after all." She smiled a little wryly, glancing down into the cup she held atop her knee and letting the expression fade.
“But that's... it's okay. To disagree. I want you to know that I'm not... I'm not against you. Even when we do." She hummed almost uncertainly, like the words weren't quite the ones she wanted. “I'm always willing to listen to what you have to say. If it's about the Inquisition, or even if it's just about... other things. I'm sure you have your family for that, but if you ever feel like someone else's perspective would make a difference, well. For whatever it's worth, you can have mine." She cleared her throat a tad awkwardly. “Not that I have anything so wise to say about this. I bet... I bet you could afford a few more breaks, though. The letters aren't always as urgent as they seem, I know that much. Not when you stack them up next to the other things. Simple as they might be by comparison."
Her eyes flicked to Vesryn, still reading, for half a second, but then she returned them to Marceline. “We're only mortal, Lady Marceline, temporary and flawed and fragile. I think it's okay to act like it sometimes." Estella offered a thin smile.
Marceline nodded, though she didn't immediately say anything. Eventually however, she said something. "You are kind, Estella," She said, quieter than before, but with a warm smile, "Thank you." She was quiet again, and thoughtful, before she spoke once more. "You are correct, about needing breaks. This," she said, gesturing toward the tea set in front of them, "This was nice. I would like to do this more, if you would be so kind as to entertain me."
Almost immediately, the Inquisitor nodded, her smile strengthening until it no longer looked like it would crack and fall away at any moment. “Of course. I'd be glad to. Maybe next time, we could go for a walk? The fresh air often helps me put things in perspective. I'm sure we both spend more time than we should in offices, anyway."
"Perhaps next time we can talk of something more... cheerful," Lady Marceline offered.