“Cassandra Pentaghast has always walked the righteous path, never waving from her duties. Bound and determined, she must find answers for the Divine's death, she needed to find justification for the horrors of the conclave. The Valo-kas must be responsible, their eclectic group must have harbored a terrorist. Like most mercenary groups, the Valo-kas made up of criminals ,vagabonds, pirates, and venal characters. Cassandra never trusted mercenaries, they were uncouth and distasteful and should shackled in iron. Until she interrogates a coquettish Tevinter rogue with a coy smile.”
Chapter One:
Maker, Forgive Them.
There was a weight upon the Seeker, descending to the dark dungeons below Haven’s chantry. The Divine was dead, the conclave shattered, the burden of rectification fell to her and few others. Cassandra wore her pride like a cloak; which had become heavy with the weight of obligation.
Determination, as well as focus, were requisite for her duties. She had worked her way through several interrogations, each as unfruitful and frustrating as the one before. The dark-haired warrior nodded to the guards snapping to attention as she neared the cell that would be the place of her next interrogation. Even outside the reinforced door, she could hear the dragging of heavy chains and muffled yelling. She inhaled sharply, narrowed her hazel eyes, then signaled the guards to open the door.
The sounds thrown into sharp relief as the second the door opened, rising to a crescendo before cutting off completely as all the occupants eyes fell on Cassandra. The prisoner, bound and kneeling on the cold stone floor, stilled for a moment, her body was coiled and tense. Her full lips drew back over her bared teeth. Cassandra had been witness to many hunts, of humans, animals and even things beyond; she was familiar with the sight of a cornered animal. Unpredictable, dangerous and wild. The bound prisoner’s appearance was similar to an enraged cobra, coiled, tense, waiting to strike.
“Ferocity means little once you are chained to the floor,Tevinter.” Cassandra began to pace, hands clasped tightly behind her back.
“Vishante kaffas!” The prisoner spat over the rasping of chains, “Again and again I am plagued by ignorance! Tell me, my lovely incompetent one, are there any other charges keeping me in your gracious hospitality? If not, I shall spare both our time and dignity and take my leave. I am not a magister.” Cassandra circled in upon the prisoner, hands fisting at her sides spurred on by exhaustion and frustration.
“Lies! You are the daughter of Magister Victoria Aurelius! You were involved with the ruination of the conclave…or is it just a coincidence that Tevinter nobility has a front row seat to the Divine’s assassination?” Cassandra’s words were met with a short silence, then a dark chuckle. The woman rolled her neck around slowly, eliciting several muffled cracks before looking up into Cassandra’s face just inches away from her own.The prisoner held her flaxen gaze just a moment too long, supple lips parted in a deliberate smirk. The change in her demeanor was so sudden that even steadfast Cassandra was thrown. The warrior wrenched herself back, and turned from the prisoner in order to change her interrogation tactics. Perhaps Cassandra imagined the second low, dark laugh that erupted from the tawny woman.
“We could do this all night, if you so choose,” she purred her lips curling, “and I couldn’t tell you how many times I've been detained upon my mother’s merit. But, as I've told you before, you vexatious bitch,” despite her words her tone remained honeyed, until her face contorted angrily; her next words were an insistent yell, “I AM NOT A MAGE!” She pulled against her chains once more as if to hurl herself at the Seeker.
Cassandra rounded upon her once more, this time grabbing the woman’s soft leather jerkin and hoisted her roughly up until the bindings stopped her short. The warrior ignored the foreign curses and shouts of protest.
“Stop lying! Why are you so far down south!? What purpose did the Divine’s assassination serve the magistrate!” Cassandra patience wore thin, her face flushed with anger.
“Cassandra, Stop! This is going nowhere.” Cassandra’s head whipped around to see the spymaster, Leliana, had silently slipped into the dark room. She acknowledged the new arrival with a curt nod. Leliana advanced, holding up a letter with a broken seal. “She isn't lying, she is a chemist from The University of Orlais.” Leliana cautiously approached the prisoner, stepping past Cassandra who grunted disbelievingly. The prisoner remained silent, her golden eyes flicked restlessly between the Seeker and Spymaster. “Your name is Belvantia Aurelius of Minrathous…correct?”
“Oh, how well informed you are,” Belvantia said sardonically, “you managed to dig up the same thing I've been yelling at these southern dogs for the better part of an hour.” Leliana ignored her as the guards shifted uncomfortably around them.
“Your mother is wanted criminal in Tevinter, Seheron, and Orlais. It's an odd coincidence her daughter is present during the Divine’s assassination,” she pressed softly eyebrow hitching as she looked expectantly at Belvantia.
“I haven’t seen my bitch of mother in almost a decade. If she was involved, I wouldn't know!” Her eyes flicked disdainfully over Leliana. “I'd say your incompetence as an informer surprises me, but from what I've seen that seems to be the standard for the south.” her glare flicked back towards the Nevarran warrior. Cassandra, tiring of the gentle new tactic, rushed past Leliana, grabbing Belvantia roughly by the shoulder. The woman’s laden necklace clanked loudly under Cassandra’s attention.
“Watch. Your. Tongue,” she snarled, earning a halfhearted sneer from their captive.
“My tongue?” Belvantia asked mockingly, eyes lighting up, her eyebrows quirked with mischief. Cassandra eyed her warily, hand loosening her hold on the tawny shoulder.
“Cassandra, is it? You have such strong hands, Cassandra,” she seductively purred. Cassandra’s hand twitched off Belvantia’s shoulder in surprise as she felt a flush crawl up her neck. Belvantia leaned forward, heavy jewelry clinking against her full bust. “You can do a lot of things with hands like those.” The heat rose from Cassandra’s neck, creeping around the sides of her face. Momentarily stymied, the warrior scoffed, turning away to hide her embarrassment until she could regain composure. Leliana handed the Seeker a report, which she scanned quickly before resuming her interrogation.
“This says you are traveling with the Qunari,” Cassandra said curtly, carefully keeping her eyes on the paper and away from the dark woman ,whose eyes she knew were still intent upon her. “Why is that?”
“I work for her! They needed a chemist!” Belvantia spat, settling back on her tucked legs. “They needed someone who researches and experiments with the properties of chemical substances.” An edge of pride entered into her speech. “I am Theoretical chemist, I explore scientific ideas and theories in an attempt to more fully explain chemical reactions.”
“Is that what happened at the conclave? A chemical explosion, science!” Cassandra exclaimed, raising her hand for a moment as if to strike Belvantia.
“No, you uneducated zealot! Chemistry is used to create potions that emulate magic, It isn’t sufficient enough to blow up the fucking sky!” She hissed, craning away from the Seeker. Leliana broke her quiet observance to duck between them, firmly halting Cassandra's advance.
“Cassandra stop. This isn't helping. You should check on the qunari apostate. She has regained consciousness, and is prepped for interrogation.”
Cassandra stood for a moment in frustrated indecision before storming towards the door. “ I will check in with Solas, perhaps he has more answers,” She grunted, wrenching the wooden door shut behind her. Belvantia’s eyes lingered on the door before turning back to Leliana.
“I only need to confirm a few things,” Leliana began, crouching down to her eye level. The spy brushed the woman’s dark hair aside. “You are not what I expected.” She examined the Tevinter carefully. Belvantia, suddenly overcome by exhaustion, gave her a begrudging shrug.
“The Dalish apostate and warrior also belong to your mercenary group?” Belvantia regarded her with apprehension before giving her a curt nod.
“Yes. Soli is a hedge-witch from Rivian and Mani is from a clan in Southern Ferelden, but we all travel together.” Belvantia squared her shoulders, though both her and the spymaster knew any attempt at intimidation on her part would fail.
“If you're hurting them, I swear I'll use your pretty face for target practice, you-“
“We just need to confirm their identification,” Leliana cut her off gently. There was a heavy silence between them before Belvantia spoke.
“Is Herah- is the Qunari apostate going to live?” The spymaster was quiet for a few moments, measuring up her prisoner before sighing wearily.
“We don’t know.” She shook her head, and pushed herself back up before heading to the door. “I can't promise anything, but I will try to keep you updated.” She pulled the heavy door shut behind her.
I will update shortly lovelies <3
