In Glory and Gore - Interim
Highever swarmed with guards ever since word arrived about the attack on Houndshome and the disappearance of Ferelden's youngest Royal. The little village was still smouldering when Princess Eleanor rode up to it, hair streaming behind her in the wind and rain.
"Your Highness," the local magistrate greeted her with a nervous bow, watching as the princess dismounted from the Ferelden charger, striding through the mud towards him. "We're still trying to determine what happened."
"I'll tell you what happened," Eleanor snapped, handing the Magistrate the reins to the horse. "Slavers. That's what happened. And you let them take your Prince." The Magistrate withered under the Princess's angry look. He mumbled an apology, and pointed towards the Inn.
"Th-they were at the Inn. There's a few Inquisition survivors that might-"
Eleanor glared at him and the Magistrate shut his mouth with an audible clack of teeth.
"Why is the Inquisition in my teyrnir without anyone telling me?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"I..don't know," the man admitted, glancing towards the Inn nervously. "I can find out, your Highness. I'll go find out, right away."
"Do so," Eleanor said. "And then tend your resignation as Magistrate. I'll find your replacement once this mess has been resolved." First a prince kidnapped, then an armed force already on tenuous agreement with Ferelden was found mysteriously at the scene? Someone was going to give her answers, and Maker help those who didn't.
Striding through muck and rubble to the survivors, Eleanor watched with no small pleasure as the Inquisition soldiers eyes widened and they tried to stand to salute.
"Shut up," she said before they could start babbling. "You are going to tell me what happened, why you're here and which direction they went, and then you are going to be escorted to the Frostbacks to prevent this Maker-damned alliance from slipping any further."
Once strong allies, since the Inquisitor had handed the effective control of the Inquisition to that De Fer woman, things had gone downhill. Finding an armed Inquisition force in her terynir had just stripped any remaining goodwill from Eleanor.
"You," she said, jabbing a finger at a dwarf in Inquisition armor. "Talk."
"Ma'am," the dwarf said, throwing a salute despite the thick bandage around his hand. "We apologize ma'am. Master Hanin was out to visit the Springs here, we were his escort. He was with your brother and someone else when the Vints showed up."
El watched the dwarf through narrow eyes, turning that new piece of information over. The Inquisitor's son who rarely left the nest of Skyhold was also taken?
"With respect, I would ask that we are allowed to join the search, it is our fault that Master Hanin-"
"No," El said sharply. "You had your chance, and this is still Ferelden soil, in case you've forgotten. Moreover," she added, starting to pace in front of the sorry looking soldiers. "Someone chose to attack the Inn instead of the farms which would be an easier target. Someone knew there was a target worth the risk of attacking in town."
The dwarf blanched, and El's lips curled into a tight, angry smile.
"Had the Inquisition not tresspassed on my land my brother would be safe. Now," she said, turning to face the inquisition troops square on. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at them.
"Who was this 'other' person? who was taken with them?"
The innkeeper, sitting off to the side as the local healer tended to him, cleared his throat.
"An Elf your highness. White hair, tiny, didn't speak a word, though she knew how to write." He frowned slightly. "one of those Dalish, I think. I didn't know they even knew how to write. She helped the Prince since he was injured. He said something about owing her for her help."
"Thank you," El said to the man, the sharpness of her voice easing. "You have been //actually// helpful, unlike so many here today." The Inquisition soldiers shrank slightly as she glared their way.
"Did you see which direction the Vints left in?" She asked, walking over to crouch in front of the innkeep. The man was sitting on a bench by the Inn's door, and he had a nasty bruise spreading across his jaw to his face.
"No my lady, but my boy Nethen said he spotted a ship at anchor out by Mabari point. With no colours flying."
El nodded, and took the innkeep's hand, giving it a grateful squeeze. He smiled through the pain and squeezed her hand back.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I'll send builders to help repair your Inn. You've been of great service."
"We will never forget what we owe your Mother," he murmured. "I only wish I had been able to take down one of those Vint bastards before they got to your brother."
"I'll be sure to mark the first one I kill as yours," El assured the Innkeeper. She gave his hand a last squeeze, and stood. There sat a real Ferelden, unlike the sorry bastards who had decided to allow the Inquisition to come and go as it pleased without notifying the Crown or Teryn either.
Days passed in hurried searching and preparation. Agents of the crown spread out into the Free Marches to check ports and known trade routes for any news of a ship matching the one spotted at Highever's coast. Quiet inqueries returned vague information at best. The ship was bound for Tevinter as expected, but there was no manifest, no name to track.
Whoever had greased the palms had done it too well, leaving Eleanor increasingly frustrated.
This was her baby brother, someone had taken him. It didn't matter that he was an adult, he was still the small baby brother she'd carefully held on her lap and who had listened intently to her halting words as she practiced her reading. This was the boy who she'd missed desperately when he had to go away to that damn circle.
Her baby brother was out there, injured, and in the hands of Vint slavers who likely had no idea who they had chanced upon.
"You'll wear a hole in that lovely rug the way you're pacing."
El stopped, whirling towards the voice. In her hand was a knife, ready to defend herself. After what had happened to Rahlen, El had no longer gone anywhere unarmed. Not even to bed.
Standing in the doorway of El's study was an elf with wild red hair and a face full of freckles. But it was the strange armor the elf wore and the map in her hands that drew Eleanor's attention.
"Who are you?" El asked. "And that's my map." She didn't bother asking how the elf had gotten so far into the castle. Eleanor doubted she'd ever receive a satisfactory answer.
"Our map," the elf said, glancing up. She smiled and winked. "Listen up princess," somehow when the elf said that word it sounded like an insult. "My sister got caught up in whatever happened at Dogs'breath village. Normally I leave her alone, but now some abyss-damned slavers have her."
The smile slipped from the elf's face, ice replaced warmth, and Eleanor adjusted her appraisal of the woman. It seemed they had a common goal, one that El could appreciate the urgency of.
"And you want to join me?" Eleanor asked. "Why should I let you?"
When the elf laughed, there was no humour in it.
"'Let' me? Sweetie. I walk my own path. Right now my path lines up with yours, but there is no 'letting' me join you. You can walk along next to me, and I'll tell you where the ship was headed, or you can pretend that you don't need my help, and I'll rescue my sister on my own."
Eleanor swallowed the hope that bloomed in her chest, and hid it behind a frown. Stepping forward, the princess snatched the map from the elf's hands.
"How do you know where they are?"
The elf spread her hands, revealing more of the strange armor she wore under a dark cloak. Silvered leather and metal hugged the woman's thighs and arms, leather bound around her torso and knives hung at either hip. It was elven inspired but... From where?
"I have a contact with a shared interest in seeing slavery eradicated," the elf said. "And the Imperium crumble, but one thing at a time."
Eleanor watched the elf for any sign of duplicity. The freckled face might as well have been a mask for all the emotion it showed. Frowning, the princess gauged the risk with the offer, but they had no other leads. This was the one chance to bring Rahlen home.
"And why are you here if you know where they are?" Eleanor asked. "Why are you not on your way yourself?"
The elf pushed off the doorframe, stepping within El's armreach.
"Because not even Shemlen deserve slavery." The elf reached out with a finger and tapped El's nose. "Call me Rasha. My things are already on your ship. We should leave soon, Ellie." The elf smiled again at the confused expression on El's face.
"We leave at dawn," Eleanor said. "And you aren't sleeping in the castle tonight."
"You say that as though I might want to," Rasha said, wrinkling her nose. "It smells like wet dogs. How can any of you stand it?"
