There, in the heart of them, sang a Lady radiant
And clad in armor of bright steel.
She paused her song to look upon Shartan,
And said to him: "All souls who take up the sword
Against Tevinter are welcome here.
Rest, and tell us of your battles."
-Canticle of Shartan 9:23
The Riptide was smooth under her feet as it glided into the harbor. Estella stood at the very prow of the boat, watching the familiar line of docks get closer. The boom-chain across the slave statues hadn't been used in a very long time, but it wasn't necessary to create a very real sense of foreboding. A lot about Kirkwall could do that—perhaps, in time, when things were more peaceful and there were resources for such projects, Sophia might have them removed. But even the darkness of the city's visible history couldn't stop the flutter of anticipation in the Lady Inquisitor's belly.
Kirkwall. The place her life had changed forever.
Maybe that was a little bit dramatic, but that didn't stop it from being true. She'd come here half-dead, lost and alone. Certain that there was nothing for her in the world any longer, and that even if there had been anything, she wouldn't have deserved it. Because of what she'd done. Who she was. But somehow... the people she'd met here had given her a place to belong, people to belong with. The best parts of life, held out freely for her at every juncture, in patient hands that were willing to wait for her to decide it was okay for her to accept them. They'd made something out of her. Out of... not out of nothing, though she'd have thought so once. But out of someone broken. The city of chains had set her free.
Someone called out behind her, no doubt giving some signal to help guide the boat into port. Estella turned away from the docks in front of her, knowing that her old barracks were a mere stone's throw away, if she made the right turns. The temptation to visit there first was overwhelming, but she knew she couldn't do that. Instead, she headed starboard as the ship drifted into place, stopped by its anchor in the water, and the crew lowered the gangplank to the dock.
Rather than any large, official-looking greeting party assembled on the dock, the group from the Inquisition was met by a pair of Kirkwall city guards a comfortable distance on either side of a beardless dwarf. He was a familiar sight to Estella, a little less stocky than some of his kind, with golden blonde hair swept back from his face and kept in a short ponytail. He was dressed in his usual style, a longcoat with rolled up sleeves, and a shirt opened up halfway down his hairy chest. As ever, his uniquely advanced crossbow was slung across his back, his most precious possession.
"Stardust," he greeted amicably. "You're looking well. I figured all that saving the world would've chewed you up, but here you are, still in one piece. It's good to see you." He turned his attention to the others of the shore party as they made their way off the boat. "Varric Tethras, at your service. Queenie sent me to walk you up to Hightown. You're a little early; we might even beat her back to the Keep."
"Varric!" Estella smiled brightly. She'd not have guessed that he'd be leading the welcoming party, so to speak, but neither was she all that surprised. He always seemed to have a ear against every door, so to speak, and if anyone knew what was going on in Kirkwall better than he did these days, she'd be surprised. "It's good to see you, too. We got a nice wind on the sea, I suppose."
She paused long enough for the others to descend. "I'm sure the introductions will repeat like they always do, but this is Khari, Leon, Séverine, and Lady Marceline. I'll save the titles for when they're really necessary." They certainly weren't right now—though she had no doubt they'd soon be in much more official company. If they were being taken straight to Hightown, it seemed there was little time to waste. "Lead on."
"Right this way," he said with a slight flourish of his hand. "I hope you all like stairs." The guards assigned to him kept at a reasonable distance to allow the visitors to walk alongside Varric if they wanted.
The city had changed in a number of subtle ways since Estella had last been there. The streets were cleaner in both the figurative and literal senses, though it could just be that any suspicious figures had enough sense to get out of sight when an Inquisition party and city guards came up the street. There was no hiding, however, that the bustle and activity in the city was higher now than it ever had been a few years ago, in the aftermath of all the chaos the rift between mage and templar caused. It seemed in the quiet afforded by peace Kirkwall became what it was meant to be again. A port city with connections to Orlais, Ferelden, and the other Marcher states, a hub of trade.
Varric hadn't been kidding about the stairs, though of course Estella had no need of the warning. Kirkwall was a very vertical city, and still unable to escape the correlation between altitude and prosperity. That said, there was noticeable improvement to Lowtown as well once they entered it properly, and no few passerby greeted Varric as he led them onwards.
"I'll give anyone who wants one a full tour once Queenie's done with you, but for now..." He paused at a crossroads, at the base of a much more impressive set of stairs leading steeply upwards towards the pale stone walls surrounding Hightown. "This here's the top of Lowtown. Foundry district to the west, Alienage to the east, docks to the south the way we came, and markets everywhere you look. If you'll look behind you," he waited for anyone who chose to do so, "you'll see my pride and joy. Temporary hideout of Wardens and Viscountesses alike."
There was a touch of melancholy to go along with the pride of his last words there, for reasons Estella did not need to guess at. Behind them was Varric's beloved watering hole, The Hanged Man. It seemed it too had seen some renovations, though it remained to be seen if the quality of the drinks had improved at all.
"You'll have to stop by for a game of Wicked Grace before you leave. Can't say I've had much of a challenge since you left, Stardust."
Estella's smile grew; she almost laughed. "Can't say I really have either, Varric. You might have to take it easy on me; I haven't needed a good graceface in a while."
He grinned at her, and gestured for them to follow again. "Alright, up we go."
Lady Marceline took the stairs easily, gliding upwardly behind the dwarf. "If you do not mind me asking, Ser Varric," she began, taking in the view as she spoke. "But if the Viscountess is not currently at the Keep, then where might she be?" She asked. "I understand she is a rather active leader," Marceline added. She appeared to ask out of personal curiosity than any official sense, and waited for the answer with a raised brow.
Varric laughed a bit awkwardly. "None of this ser business is necessary, first off." He didn't seem offended by it at all, however. "No matter what titles Queenie wants to give me, I'm no noble. Not here, anyway. As for her whereabouts, she took her shiny new citizen-army out beyond the walls for some training exercises. Getting the commoners and nobility to run some drills side by side. We should catch them on their way back in."
Khari had mostly been listing slightly off to the side, untroubled by the number of stairs and using the opportunity to take in a place she'd never been before. At the mention of a citizen army and drills, however, her attention returned predictably enough to the group and the conversation. She clearly hadn't been tuning it out entirely. “A militia? Last I heard, Kirkwall had a city guard and some famous mercs, discounting the criminal guilds. Starting up an army's a pretty bold move for a midsized Marcher city." From her tone, it was clearly boldness she personally appreciated.
Varric took a brief moment to make another appraisal of Khari, deciding something. "I'd say Qunari armies and mage-templar wars have convinced this city it could use something a little more formidable, Red. For defensive purposes only, of course. I hear that was something Queenie repeatedly had to convince some representatives from Ostwick of." That was unsurprising. The Free Marcher states all dutifully watched one another, wary of any move that could be seen as a power grab. The building of an army was certainly something that would cause some alarm.
"With any luck the city will never need the army, and we'll get along fine with our mercs and guards. For now it's a nice team building exercise. Even got a few elves in the infantry. Her Excellence turns away no volunteers, but that's no surprise. She's spent more time in Lowtown than the rest of the nobility combined."
Next to Estella, Leon reached up to scratch the bridge of his nose. He wasn't showing it, but the stairs might have been wearing on him a little more than the others. Understandable, considering how recently he'd been on the cusp of death—Estells understood that the sword he'd been stabbed with had only barely missed his heart. "Defensive or not, I would be unsurprised if this proved to be the beginning of a trend in standing armies for the Free Marches," he remarked thoughtfully. "And that will get just about everyone's attention."
It would certainly get Tevinter's, Estella thought. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing by any means, and no doubt Sophia had weighed all the factors very carefully. The possible implications spun out in her thoughts, but she put them aside for now. They were here to help with a more immediate problem, it seemed like, and though she'd never not be concerned with her friends and this place that had done so much for her, there was a time for everything.
"And how have you been yourself, Varric? The Hanged Man's looking... nicer."
"Not too much, I hope," he answered with a laugh. "We've still got to fit in with the rest of Lowtown. But it's been good, these last few years. Turns out there's time for productivity when there's less excitement. Aside from running The Hanged Man, Queenie's named me one of her advisors. She can't escape the Keep as much as she used to, so she makes use of me to keep her up to date on what Lowtown needs. It's been a good deal." The two of them went back a number of years. When Estella had first arrived in Kirkwall Sophia had actually been living in The Hanged Man.
"And of course there's been more time to write. Got a few things with my editor I think you might be interested in. I'll make sure Skyhold gets copies." It seemed they were finally reaching the top of the stairs. Séverine gave Leon a subtly concerned look, but made no mention of it, instead turning her eyes on the Hightown market.
It was more colorful than before, with many stalls that would not have been out of place in Val Royeaux for their lavishness. Of course, Kirkwall received traders from all over Thedas, and nearly everything from jewelry to exotic northern fruits could be found in Hightown. They hadn't come to shop, however, and Varric led them up the last few smaller flights of stairs, onto the most impressive streets the city had to offer.
Before them was the intentionally intimidating approach to the Viscountess's Keep, a wide, stone-paved road flanked by rows of white pillars and covered walkways on other side, leading up to yet more wide steps that would take them into the keep itself, the towers of which soared into the air. To their right was Hightown's main street, lined with rows of trees casting merciful shade to protect citizens from the harsh summer sun. Beyond would be the chantry building, fully reconstructed after its destruction at the outbreak of the mage-templar war, though Sophia had elected a more modest design for the city's place of worship.
Far to their left they could see the city gates, which were just now opening. The city guards stepped aside for a column of riders fully armored in shining steel, their horses similarly geared. The riders came in at a trot, carrying lances with tips pointing straight up to the clouds. They had a definite aura about them, perhaps not the same deadly confidence a fully trained group of chevaliers carried, but all the same a certain pride that conveyed that they were formidable.
At their head was the Viscountess, armored head to toe and unmistakable atop a white destrier. An attendant immediately approached to receive her lance and helm, but her hand-and-a-half sword remained sheathed across her back. Spotting the party Varric had retrieved, she dismounted and handed off her reins, approaching them on foot. Her golden hair was bound up in several braids around her head to restrain it underneath the helmet, and a gleam of sweat could be seen drying across her brow. She pulled off her gloves and tucked them underneath her belt as she came before them.
"Looks like I made it back just in time," she said, smiling at them all. "Thank you for escorting them, Varric."
"It was my pleasure." Varric bowed perhaps more deeply than was necessary before he turned to Estella. "I leave you in most capable hands. See you around, Stardust." He grinned, and took his leave.
"It's good to see you again, Estella, Lady Marceline. Séverine." She nodded in greeting to the templar captain, who saluted and bowed her head in return. "Ser Leonhardt." Sophia had met most of them briefly when she visited Skyhold, but it would seem she hadn't met the last member of their group yet, judging by how her smile grew slightly. "And you must be Khari. I don't believe we've met, but I've heard many good things about you from the Lady Inquisitor." She offered her hand for Khari to shake.
Khari grinned, accepting the handshake with no reservations whatsoever. “Stel would say good things about a bereskarn. It's nice to meet you, Lady Sophia." She blinked. “Unless I can drop the 'Lady' part, in which case it's great." She seemed pretty confident that Sophia wouldn't mind. Probably because that's how Estella always referred to her.
"Of course," she conceded, turning to see the ranks of Kirkwall's infantry passing through the gate behind the last of the mounted troops. Whoever had outfitted them had done excellent work. They didn't appear as any cobbled-together militia, with each soldier only wearing what he or she could scrounge up before being sent off to battle. The majority of their protection came from mail, with some added plate guarding the most vulnerable areas, and hardened leather covering the rest. Those armed with crossbows went without the plate, but all troops were equipped with sturdy steel helmets.
It didn't match the impressive plate the members of the city guard wore, but then, there were much fewer of them. They walked in alongside the infantry, though as the last ranks filed in and the gates were closed behind them all were allowed to disperse. It would seem their weapons and armor were their own to take back to their homes. Obviously pleased, Sophia gestured for the others to follow her. "Come, we should get inside, have something to drink. There's much to discuss, and not all of it pleasant."
As they made their way towards the Keep a rider made his way alongside them. He was plainly one of the nobles, sitting with an ease in the saddle that implied years of experience. He was also extremely handsome, with shoulder-length waves of thick brown hair, and the way he carried himself said that he both knew it, and enjoyed it. Not unlike Ves, in that respect. He smiled down at Sophia. "I think that went very well, Excellency. Perhaps we could discuss it tonight, over dinner?"
"Perhaps. If other matters do not keep me." She glanced at the Inquisition party walking beside her. "Everyone, this is Lord William Alston, Baron of Rose Hall." Indeed, the flower had been emblazoned on the face of the shield across his back.
"And Captain of the Queen's Companions," he added, his smile morphing to a grin.
"An unofficial name, at least for the moment." Sophia made the correction with some irritation. It wasn't hard to tell that this William had been using it for some time, and also ignoring her reservations about it.
"You're with the Inquisition," he pointed out, noting the crests a few of them wore. His eyes then went to Sophia. "I wasn't aware we were receiving them."
"They'll be staying a short time," Sophia assured him. "Lady Inquisitor Estella is a personal friend of mine, and of Kirkwall's. She needs no one's permission to return here."
"Lady Inquisitor," William repeated, as though he'd only just now seen Estella walking with them. He dismounted, the group coming to a temporary halt as he bowed. "Forgive my rudeness, I did not recognize you. It's an honor."
Estella would hardly have expected anyone to recognize her on sight. It wasn't as though she presented herself in such a way as to make her position obvious. Distracted by the mention of 'Queen's Companions,' she almost took too long to catch up with the rest of the conversation, but her reply was timely enough. "No need to apologize, milord," she replied easily, "and certainly no need to be so formal. As Sophia mentioned, I'm a friend, and we're here mostly because of that." She liked to think she was getting a little better at dealing with this sort of response, though—the first few times had felt a lot more awkward than this one did.
He lifted his head and smiled at her. "Ah, wonderful." He looked back to Sophia. "Allow me to get out of your way, then."
"We'll speak later," she promised. "But you've done well. The cavalry are looking very promising."
He bowed his thanks, before turning to smoothly step up into the saddle again, and turn his horse around, rejoining some of the others of his group. Mercifully no one else approached or stopped Sophia on their way in, and it wasn't long before they were in the cooler shade of the Keep's interior.
Unlike the rest of the city, the Keep looked more or less the same as it had before, with no great change in the decor from the way Sophia's father had left it. Long rugs of crimson trimmed in gold covered pathways of dark stone. The entryway had always had a cold feel to it, but it was difficult to avoid with how high the ceiling was, how massive the pillars were. There was a new falcon statue against one of the walls, in the direction of the guard quarters.
Sophia led them towards her office rather than the throne room, taking them left and up a short flight of stairs. On the balcony her seneschal, Bran, awaited her, though he merely nodded in greeting upon seeing she was accompanied by several guests. He opened one of the doors and let them in.
She kept her workplace tidy and well organized. Ample space greeted them as they first entered, room to meet with guests such as themselves, while a smaller table with two chairs around was tucked into the near right corner for speaking with just one visitor more personally. The floor was covered by a large square rug, deep burgundy in color, probably Antivan. One of the walls was lined with bookshelves, each one filled to the brim with tomes that looked to be either historical or informational in nature. On the opposite wall was a prominently displayed painting, the style of it immediately familiar to Estella. The woman portrayed could only be Sophia's mother, judging by the likeness.
"I'm afraid water's all I have on hand at the moment," Sophia said, pointing to a pitcher and cups on one of the corner tables. "I'd have prepared a better greeting for you, but I didn't want to make a show of your arrival. This matter with the red lyrium is somewhat sensitive, and if word spread about why you were coming we might lose an opportunity." She unbuckled her sword sheath, propping it against her desk before she took a seat in the chair behind. "Ash can explain the situation more fully, he should be along shortly."
It did not take him long to arrive either. His footsteps were heard before he was, and after a muffled exchange with Bran behind the door, he allowed him in. Ashton strode into the office with his bow unstrung and hanging from his quiver, which also hung from two fingers over his shoulder. He did not arrive alone either, a stalwart looking Mabari hound padding gently at his side. He looked better than Estella had last seen him. A faint smile even managed to linger in the corner of his lips. His hair was a mess, undoubtedly the helmet that he carried under his other arm was to blame, and his plate still bore evidence of activity, with a fine layer of dust on the shoulders, and sand on his boots.
He inclined his head toward their visitors, the faint smile growing stronger with their sight. "Stel," he greeted first, before turning toward the rest of them, "Uh, Inquisition." The Mabari fixed her gaze on Estella as well, before she loped up to her and stared up expectantly, panting softly and wagging what little of a tail she had. Ashton chuckled as he made his way toward an empty chair and dumped his gear into it. "Think Snuffy wants some love, Stel," he laughed, pouring himself a glass of water.
And Estella was happy to give it, kneeling down to put herself on a level with the hound and reaching over to scrub her hands over Snuffy's neck and back, pausing to scratch at a particularly favorite spot over one of her hips. "And how are you, Serah Princess von Snufflynose?" she asked, voice pitched higher than usual.
Snuffy loved it. Her spine straightened and her eyes closed as she gave into the scratching. It caused Ash to grin from the sight of it. "Didn't miss much, did I?" he asked, before taking a drink.
"Not yet," Estella replied, giving Snuffy and her many unnecessary titles one last pat before she stood again. "We were hoping you could give us the rundown on the situation, actually." She offered a half-formed smile. "It's good to see you, but seems best to save the catching up for after the rest of this."
"Alas, duty calls. As always," he said with a mock bow, before taking one last drink. He then made his way over to Sophia's desk, and chose an unoccupied corner to take a seat. "You already know we've run into some issues involving red lyrium," he said, pausing for a second to reflect. "Well, recent issues, I should say," he amended with a shake of his head. Undoubtedly he was referring back to Meredith and her red lyrium induced madness those few years back. He shrugged and continued.
"Well, the gist is we believe that red lyrium is being smuggled into the city," he laid out flat for them. He let that sink in for a moment, before he continued and explained further. "Thanks to Varric and his many, many, eyes and ears in the city, we were able to track down and apprehend a Red-- alive, believe it or not," he sighed deeply at that and shook his head again, "It... was not easy, though I bet you already knew that," he added with a half smile.
Snuffy had drifted away from Estella by now, and took up a seat on the other side of Ashton. He let his hand dangle loosely so that it rested on top of her head, where he absently scratched as he spoke. "She was part of a crew that was trying to bring the red lyrium into the city," he glanced at Sophia before returning back to the Inquisition. "We believe that her people haven't noticed her capture yet, so our thoughts were that if we were able to get her to cooperate... Well, it would make our job rooting out the rest of the smuggling operations a hell of a lot easier."
He leaned back after than, using a hand to prop himself against Sophia's desk. "My bet is on bad stuff going down in Darktown--well, worse then usual," he added with a shrug. "We just don't know where to aim without any useful information yet." He scratched at the shadow that was starting to grow in on his chin. At least it appeared he was shaving regularly again. "We're kind of pressed for time too, with the Red that we have," he added with a raise of his brow.
"Turn the Red Templar against her side before she dies, then?" Séverine stood with arms crossed, taking in the situation. "Well, she's already a traitor, perhaps she'll be one twice over."
"It may be that this is new ground for all of us," Sophia pointed out. "But I trust you all to handle this with care, and act decisively to do what is best for Kirkwall. I'd go with you, but sadly I can't be spending my time rooting out evil in Darktown anymore. Still, I do the best I can from here, and that means sending you." She pushed back to her feet. "If you need any rest, feel free to take a moment here in the Keep. When you're ready, Ash will take you to the Gallows to meet with the prisoner. Cullen will be waiting for you there."
"We won't fail, Excellency," Séverine promised, pressing a gauntlet to her heart.
Estella nodded. It wouldn't be an easy task, from the sounds of it, but... they could do this. "Leave it to us, Sophia."
Kirkwall. The place her life had changed forever.
Maybe that was a little bit dramatic, but that didn't stop it from being true. She'd come here half-dead, lost and alone. Certain that there was nothing for her in the world any longer, and that even if there had been anything, she wouldn't have deserved it. Because of what she'd done. Who she was. But somehow... the people she'd met here had given her a place to belong, people to belong with. The best parts of life, held out freely for her at every juncture, in patient hands that were willing to wait for her to decide it was okay for her to accept them. They'd made something out of her. Out of... not out of nothing, though she'd have thought so once. But out of someone broken. The city of chains had set her free.
Someone called out behind her, no doubt giving some signal to help guide the boat into port. Estella turned away from the docks in front of her, knowing that her old barracks were a mere stone's throw away, if she made the right turns. The temptation to visit there first was overwhelming, but she knew she couldn't do that. Instead, she headed starboard as the ship drifted into place, stopped by its anchor in the water, and the crew lowered the gangplank to the dock.
Rather than any large, official-looking greeting party assembled on the dock, the group from the Inquisition was met by a pair of Kirkwall city guards a comfortable distance on either side of a beardless dwarf. He was a familiar sight to Estella, a little less stocky than some of his kind, with golden blonde hair swept back from his face and kept in a short ponytail. He was dressed in his usual style, a longcoat with rolled up sleeves, and a shirt opened up halfway down his hairy chest. As ever, his uniquely advanced crossbow was slung across his back, his most precious possession.
"Stardust," he greeted amicably. "You're looking well. I figured all that saving the world would've chewed you up, but here you are, still in one piece. It's good to see you." He turned his attention to the others of the shore party as they made their way off the boat. "Varric Tethras, at your service. Queenie sent me to walk you up to Hightown. You're a little early; we might even beat her back to the Keep."
"Varric!" Estella smiled brightly. She'd not have guessed that he'd be leading the welcoming party, so to speak, but neither was she all that surprised. He always seemed to have a ear against every door, so to speak, and if anyone knew what was going on in Kirkwall better than he did these days, she'd be surprised. "It's good to see you, too. We got a nice wind on the sea, I suppose."
She paused long enough for the others to descend. "I'm sure the introductions will repeat like they always do, but this is Khari, Leon, Séverine, and Lady Marceline. I'll save the titles for when they're really necessary." They certainly weren't right now—though she had no doubt they'd soon be in much more official company. If they were being taken straight to Hightown, it seemed there was little time to waste. "Lead on."
"Right this way," he said with a slight flourish of his hand. "I hope you all like stairs." The guards assigned to him kept at a reasonable distance to allow the visitors to walk alongside Varric if they wanted.
The city had changed in a number of subtle ways since Estella had last been there. The streets were cleaner in both the figurative and literal senses, though it could just be that any suspicious figures had enough sense to get out of sight when an Inquisition party and city guards came up the street. There was no hiding, however, that the bustle and activity in the city was higher now than it ever had been a few years ago, in the aftermath of all the chaos the rift between mage and templar caused. It seemed in the quiet afforded by peace Kirkwall became what it was meant to be again. A port city with connections to Orlais, Ferelden, and the other Marcher states, a hub of trade.
Varric hadn't been kidding about the stairs, though of course Estella had no need of the warning. Kirkwall was a very vertical city, and still unable to escape the correlation between altitude and prosperity. That said, there was noticeable improvement to Lowtown as well once they entered it properly, and no few passerby greeted Varric as he led them onwards.
"I'll give anyone who wants one a full tour once Queenie's done with you, but for now..." He paused at a crossroads, at the base of a much more impressive set of stairs leading steeply upwards towards the pale stone walls surrounding Hightown. "This here's the top of Lowtown. Foundry district to the west, Alienage to the east, docks to the south the way we came, and markets everywhere you look. If you'll look behind you," he waited for anyone who chose to do so, "you'll see my pride and joy. Temporary hideout of Wardens and Viscountesses alike."
There was a touch of melancholy to go along with the pride of his last words there, for reasons Estella did not need to guess at. Behind them was Varric's beloved watering hole, The Hanged Man. It seemed it too had seen some renovations, though it remained to be seen if the quality of the drinks had improved at all.
"You'll have to stop by for a game of Wicked Grace before you leave. Can't say I've had much of a challenge since you left, Stardust."
Estella's smile grew; she almost laughed. "Can't say I really have either, Varric. You might have to take it easy on me; I haven't needed a good graceface in a while."
He grinned at her, and gestured for them to follow again. "Alright, up we go."
Lady Marceline took the stairs easily, gliding upwardly behind the dwarf. "If you do not mind me asking, Ser Varric," she began, taking in the view as she spoke. "But if the Viscountess is not currently at the Keep, then where might she be?" She asked. "I understand she is a rather active leader," Marceline added. She appeared to ask out of personal curiosity than any official sense, and waited for the answer with a raised brow.
Varric laughed a bit awkwardly. "None of this ser business is necessary, first off." He didn't seem offended by it at all, however. "No matter what titles Queenie wants to give me, I'm no noble. Not here, anyway. As for her whereabouts, she took her shiny new citizen-army out beyond the walls for some training exercises. Getting the commoners and nobility to run some drills side by side. We should catch them on their way back in."
Khari had mostly been listing slightly off to the side, untroubled by the number of stairs and using the opportunity to take in a place she'd never been before. At the mention of a citizen army and drills, however, her attention returned predictably enough to the group and the conversation. She clearly hadn't been tuning it out entirely. “A militia? Last I heard, Kirkwall had a city guard and some famous mercs, discounting the criminal guilds. Starting up an army's a pretty bold move for a midsized Marcher city." From her tone, it was clearly boldness she personally appreciated.
Varric took a brief moment to make another appraisal of Khari, deciding something. "I'd say Qunari armies and mage-templar wars have convinced this city it could use something a little more formidable, Red. For defensive purposes only, of course. I hear that was something Queenie repeatedly had to convince some representatives from Ostwick of." That was unsurprising. The Free Marcher states all dutifully watched one another, wary of any move that could be seen as a power grab. The building of an army was certainly something that would cause some alarm.
"With any luck the city will never need the army, and we'll get along fine with our mercs and guards. For now it's a nice team building exercise. Even got a few elves in the infantry. Her Excellence turns away no volunteers, but that's no surprise. She's spent more time in Lowtown than the rest of the nobility combined."
Next to Estella, Leon reached up to scratch the bridge of his nose. He wasn't showing it, but the stairs might have been wearing on him a little more than the others. Understandable, considering how recently he'd been on the cusp of death—Estells understood that the sword he'd been stabbed with had only barely missed his heart. "Defensive or not, I would be unsurprised if this proved to be the beginning of a trend in standing armies for the Free Marches," he remarked thoughtfully. "And that will get just about everyone's attention."
It would certainly get Tevinter's, Estella thought. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing by any means, and no doubt Sophia had weighed all the factors very carefully. The possible implications spun out in her thoughts, but she put them aside for now. They were here to help with a more immediate problem, it seemed like, and though she'd never not be concerned with her friends and this place that had done so much for her, there was a time for everything.
"And how have you been yourself, Varric? The Hanged Man's looking... nicer."
"Not too much, I hope," he answered with a laugh. "We've still got to fit in with the rest of Lowtown. But it's been good, these last few years. Turns out there's time for productivity when there's less excitement. Aside from running The Hanged Man, Queenie's named me one of her advisors. She can't escape the Keep as much as she used to, so she makes use of me to keep her up to date on what Lowtown needs. It's been a good deal." The two of them went back a number of years. When Estella had first arrived in Kirkwall Sophia had actually been living in The Hanged Man.
"And of course there's been more time to write. Got a few things with my editor I think you might be interested in. I'll make sure Skyhold gets copies." It seemed they were finally reaching the top of the stairs. Séverine gave Leon a subtly concerned look, but made no mention of it, instead turning her eyes on the Hightown market.
It was more colorful than before, with many stalls that would not have been out of place in Val Royeaux for their lavishness. Of course, Kirkwall received traders from all over Thedas, and nearly everything from jewelry to exotic northern fruits could be found in Hightown. They hadn't come to shop, however, and Varric led them up the last few smaller flights of stairs, onto the most impressive streets the city had to offer.
Before them was the intentionally intimidating approach to the Viscountess's Keep, a wide, stone-paved road flanked by rows of white pillars and covered walkways on other side, leading up to yet more wide steps that would take them into the keep itself, the towers of which soared into the air. To their right was Hightown's main street, lined with rows of trees casting merciful shade to protect citizens from the harsh summer sun. Beyond would be the chantry building, fully reconstructed after its destruction at the outbreak of the mage-templar war, though Sophia had elected a more modest design for the city's place of worship.
Far to their left they could see the city gates, which were just now opening. The city guards stepped aside for a column of riders fully armored in shining steel, their horses similarly geared. The riders came in at a trot, carrying lances with tips pointing straight up to the clouds. They had a definite aura about them, perhaps not the same deadly confidence a fully trained group of chevaliers carried, but all the same a certain pride that conveyed that they were formidable.
At their head was the Viscountess, armored head to toe and unmistakable atop a white destrier. An attendant immediately approached to receive her lance and helm, but her hand-and-a-half sword remained sheathed across her back. Spotting the party Varric had retrieved, she dismounted and handed off her reins, approaching them on foot. Her golden hair was bound up in several braids around her head to restrain it underneath the helmet, and a gleam of sweat could be seen drying across her brow. She pulled off her gloves and tucked them underneath her belt as she came before them.
"Looks like I made it back just in time," she said, smiling at them all. "Thank you for escorting them, Varric."
"It was my pleasure." Varric bowed perhaps more deeply than was necessary before he turned to Estella. "I leave you in most capable hands. See you around, Stardust." He grinned, and took his leave.
"It's good to see you again, Estella, Lady Marceline. Séverine." She nodded in greeting to the templar captain, who saluted and bowed her head in return. "Ser Leonhardt." Sophia had met most of them briefly when she visited Skyhold, but it would seem she hadn't met the last member of their group yet, judging by how her smile grew slightly. "And you must be Khari. I don't believe we've met, but I've heard many good things about you from the Lady Inquisitor." She offered her hand for Khari to shake.
Khari grinned, accepting the handshake with no reservations whatsoever. “Stel would say good things about a bereskarn. It's nice to meet you, Lady Sophia." She blinked. “Unless I can drop the 'Lady' part, in which case it's great." She seemed pretty confident that Sophia wouldn't mind. Probably because that's how Estella always referred to her.
"Of course," she conceded, turning to see the ranks of Kirkwall's infantry passing through the gate behind the last of the mounted troops. Whoever had outfitted them had done excellent work. They didn't appear as any cobbled-together militia, with each soldier only wearing what he or she could scrounge up before being sent off to battle. The majority of their protection came from mail, with some added plate guarding the most vulnerable areas, and hardened leather covering the rest. Those armed with crossbows went without the plate, but all troops were equipped with sturdy steel helmets.
It didn't match the impressive plate the members of the city guard wore, but then, there were much fewer of them. They walked in alongside the infantry, though as the last ranks filed in and the gates were closed behind them all were allowed to disperse. It would seem their weapons and armor were their own to take back to their homes. Obviously pleased, Sophia gestured for the others to follow her. "Come, we should get inside, have something to drink. There's much to discuss, and not all of it pleasant."
As they made their way towards the Keep a rider made his way alongside them. He was plainly one of the nobles, sitting with an ease in the saddle that implied years of experience. He was also extremely handsome, with shoulder-length waves of thick brown hair, and the way he carried himself said that he both knew it, and enjoyed it. Not unlike Ves, in that respect. He smiled down at Sophia. "I think that went very well, Excellency. Perhaps we could discuss it tonight, over dinner?"
"Perhaps. If other matters do not keep me." She glanced at the Inquisition party walking beside her. "Everyone, this is Lord William Alston, Baron of Rose Hall." Indeed, the flower had been emblazoned on the face of the shield across his back.
"And Captain of the Queen's Companions," he added, his smile morphing to a grin.
"An unofficial name, at least for the moment." Sophia made the correction with some irritation. It wasn't hard to tell that this William had been using it for some time, and also ignoring her reservations about it.
"You're with the Inquisition," he pointed out, noting the crests a few of them wore. His eyes then went to Sophia. "I wasn't aware we were receiving them."
"They'll be staying a short time," Sophia assured him. "Lady Inquisitor Estella is a personal friend of mine, and of Kirkwall's. She needs no one's permission to return here."
"Lady Inquisitor," William repeated, as though he'd only just now seen Estella walking with them. He dismounted, the group coming to a temporary halt as he bowed. "Forgive my rudeness, I did not recognize you. It's an honor."
Estella would hardly have expected anyone to recognize her on sight. It wasn't as though she presented herself in such a way as to make her position obvious. Distracted by the mention of 'Queen's Companions,' she almost took too long to catch up with the rest of the conversation, but her reply was timely enough. "No need to apologize, milord," she replied easily, "and certainly no need to be so formal. As Sophia mentioned, I'm a friend, and we're here mostly because of that." She liked to think she was getting a little better at dealing with this sort of response, though—the first few times had felt a lot more awkward than this one did.
He lifted his head and smiled at her. "Ah, wonderful." He looked back to Sophia. "Allow me to get out of your way, then."
"We'll speak later," she promised. "But you've done well. The cavalry are looking very promising."
He bowed his thanks, before turning to smoothly step up into the saddle again, and turn his horse around, rejoining some of the others of his group. Mercifully no one else approached or stopped Sophia on their way in, and it wasn't long before they were in the cooler shade of the Keep's interior.
Unlike the rest of the city, the Keep looked more or less the same as it had before, with no great change in the decor from the way Sophia's father had left it. Long rugs of crimson trimmed in gold covered pathways of dark stone. The entryway had always had a cold feel to it, but it was difficult to avoid with how high the ceiling was, how massive the pillars were. There was a new falcon statue against one of the walls, in the direction of the guard quarters.
Sophia led them towards her office rather than the throne room, taking them left and up a short flight of stairs. On the balcony her seneschal, Bran, awaited her, though he merely nodded in greeting upon seeing she was accompanied by several guests. He opened one of the doors and let them in.
She kept her workplace tidy and well organized. Ample space greeted them as they first entered, room to meet with guests such as themselves, while a smaller table with two chairs around was tucked into the near right corner for speaking with just one visitor more personally. The floor was covered by a large square rug, deep burgundy in color, probably Antivan. One of the walls was lined with bookshelves, each one filled to the brim with tomes that looked to be either historical or informational in nature. On the opposite wall was a prominently displayed painting, the style of it immediately familiar to Estella. The woman portrayed could only be Sophia's mother, judging by the likeness.
"I'm afraid water's all I have on hand at the moment," Sophia said, pointing to a pitcher and cups on one of the corner tables. "I'd have prepared a better greeting for you, but I didn't want to make a show of your arrival. This matter with the red lyrium is somewhat sensitive, and if word spread about why you were coming we might lose an opportunity." She unbuckled her sword sheath, propping it against her desk before she took a seat in the chair behind. "Ash can explain the situation more fully, he should be along shortly."
It did not take him long to arrive either. His footsteps were heard before he was, and after a muffled exchange with Bran behind the door, he allowed him in. Ashton strode into the office with his bow unstrung and hanging from his quiver, which also hung from two fingers over his shoulder. He did not arrive alone either, a stalwart looking Mabari hound padding gently at his side. He looked better than Estella had last seen him. A faint smile even managed to linger in the corner of his lips. His hair was a mess, undoubtedly the helmet that he carried under his other arm was to blame, and his plate still bore evidence of activity, with a fine layer of dust on the shoulders, and sand on his boots.
He inclined his head toward their visitors, the faint smile growing stronger with their sight. "Stel," he greeted first, before turning toward the rest of them, "Uh, Inquisition." The Mabari fixed her gaze on Estella as well, before she loped up to her and stared up expectantly, panting softly and wagging what little of a tail she had. Ashton chuckled as he made his way toward an empty chair and dumped his gear into it. "Think Snuffy wants some love, Stel," he laughed, pouring himself a glass of water.
And Estella was happy to give it, kneeling down to put herself on a level with the hound and reaching over to scrub her hands over Snuffy's neck and back, pausing to scratch at a particularly favorite spot over one of her hips. "And how are you, Serah Princess von Snufflynose?" she asked, voice pitched higher than usual.
Snuffy loved it. Her spine straightened and her eyes closed as she gave into the scratching. It caused Ash to grin from the sight of it. "Didn't miss much, did I?" he asked, before taking a drink.
"Not yet," Estella replied, giving Snuffy and her many unnecessary titles one last pat before she stood again. "We were hoping you could give us the rundown on the situation, actually." She offered a half-formed smile. "It's good to see you, but seems best to save the catching up for after the rest of this."
"Alas, duty calls. As always," he said with a mock bow, before taking one last drink. He then made his way over to Sophia's desk, and chose an unoccupied corner to take a seat. "You already know we've run into some issues involving red lyrium," he said, pausing for a second to reflect. "Well, recent issues, I should say," he amended with a shake of his head. Undoubtedly he was referring back to Meredith and her red lyrium induced madness those few years back. He shrugged and continued.
"Well, the gist is we believe that red lyrium is being smuggled into the city," he laid out flat for them. He let that sink in for a moment, before he continued and explained further. "Thanks to Varric and his many, many, eyes and ears in the city, we were able to track down and apprehend a Red-- alive, believe it or not," he sighed deeply at that and shook his head again, "It... was not easy, though I bet you already knew that," he added with a half smile.
Snuffy had drifted away from Estella by now, and took up a seat on the other side of Ashton. He let his hand dangle loosely so that it rested on top of her head, where he absently scratched as he spoke. "She was part of a crew that was trying to bring the red lyrium into the city," he glanced at Sophia before returning back to the Inquisition. "We believe that her people haven't noticed her capture yet, so our thoughts were that if we were able to get her to cooperate... Well, it would make our job rooting out the rest of the smuggling operations a hell of a lot easier."
He leaned back after than, using a hand to prop himself against Sophia's desk. "My bet is on bad stuff going down in Darktown--well, worse then usual," he added with a shrug. "We just don't know where to aim without any useful information yet." He scratched at the shadow that was starting to grow in on his chin. At least it appeared he was shaving regularly again. "We're kind of pressed for time too, with the Red that we have," he added with a raise of his brow.
"Turn the Red Templar against her side before she dies, then?" Séverine stood with arms crossed, taking in the situation. "Well, she's already a traitor, perhaps she'll be one twice over."
"It may be that this is new ground for all of us," Sophia pointed out. "But I trust you all to handle this with care, and act decisively to do what is best for Kirkwall. I'd go with you, but sadly I can't be spending my time rooting out evil in Darktown anymore. Still, I do the best I can from here, and that means sending you." She pushed back to her feet. "If you need any rest, feel free to take a moment here in the Keep. When you're ready, Ash will take you to the Gallows to meet with the prisoner. Cullen will be waiting for you there."
"We won't fail, Excellency," Séverine promised, pressing a gauntlet to her heart.
Estella nodded. It wouldn't be an easy task, from the sounds of it, but... they could do this. "Leave it to us, Sophia."