Chapter 58: Complications

"You did what?"

Natalya Song made her way down the corridors of Skyhold, at her side walked her cousins Evelyn and Rhaena.

Song had been flying high since the Orlesians had brought her former captor and tormentor here. It had taken a great deal of self-restraint not to go down to the dungeons here and speak with the Sister, let her know exactly what was coming.

So many nights, she thought to herself, so many nights she had suffered at the hands of that…that cow. Starved, dehydrated, left naked in a cold cell, she had endured such pain at the witch's hands, now, the tables were turned, and the sister was here.

She had to stifle and excited peasant girl like giggle.

The thought of finally getting to indulge every dark, revenge-driven, fantasy she had had during those dark times was almost too hard to resist.

Patience, her conscience chided, matters are moving swiftly now, you cannot afford to get distracted, no matter how satisfying that distraction might be. The Inquisition is taking its first steps into Orlais. What happens in the next few days will determine how the war will go as operations finally begin in the Empire.

Nicholai will need me, she realized, I may be called upon at a moment's notice, and I need to be ready. Orlais was in chaos and it would take a firm steady hand to restore it to order.

And if that hand failed, she realized, steps would need to be taken, steps that she had been trained to carry out. If her brother needed her, she would be there.

So she waited, the source of her satisfaction was not going anywhere. In the meantime, she could turn her attention to other matters, namely the advancement of their family. Nicholai was busy with being Inquisitor, so it fell to her to make sure that Uncle Van's children were doing their part.

At that moment, she had turned her attention to Cousin Rhaena. Apparently, Seeker Pentaghast had sought her out to help keep Commander Cullen on track, why that was needed she didn't know, but she recognized the need to keep Cullen on Nicholai's side, if Rhaena could deliver that for them, so much the better.

Though, she was not sure what to make of what she had just heard.

Song's brow furrowed with confusion.

They had done…what?

"We spent the afternoon playing chess," Rhaena repeated, her cheeks slightly pink, "We spent almost two hours just playing and talking, it is probably the longest conversation we had that did not include business.

She smiled shyly.

"You would expect such a great warrior to be crass, intimidating. Maker knows he intimidated me when we first got here, but he is actually quite nice and a gentleman on top of that."

Rhaena's eyes sparkled.

"I don't think I've had a more pleasant afternoon."

Song glanced over at Evelyn who merely shrugged. Natalya knew that the mage was against, or at least leery of her little sister's involvement with the Inquisition commander. Her history with the Templar order clouded the woman's judgment on the matter. She worried the girl was setting herself up for heartbreak.

"They're all perfect gentlemen," Evelyn Trevelyan said, "Until they get what they want from you, until they have enjoyed everything you have to offer. Then you become something to be ignored, forgotten, until the next new pleasure comes along."

The mage shook her head.

"That is the truth about a Templar gentleman."

If Rhaena was listening she did not show it, she sniffed and held her head high, clearly she had her own opinion of Commander Cullen. An opinion that was not so…harsh.

Natalya was more pragmatic, she was more than willing to let this play out. Rhaena had already gained Ambassador Montilyet's respect, now winning Cullen over would give Nicholai even more pull on the war council. Still…she was not quite sure what to make of the girl's decision.

Chess?

Song shook her head.

Both in Ostwick or Orlais, a young woman might have used…other methods to gain a young man's attention. To quote the old saying: Give the wolf a taste, and let him grow hungry for more.

Rhaena had not done that, and apparently Cullen had not pushed for it either, she was surprised.

The commander was a seasoned warrior, a fierce man at arms. Normally, a man such of that would have sought more…physical pursuits with a young lady, especially one who looked like Rhaena. She had heard rumors that the commander was…inexperienced in matters of the heart and women in general, but…really?

Chess?

Was he really that inexperienced?

She looked over at Rhaena again, unsure of how to respond to what she had just heard. The girl's blush darkened.

"It was nice," she repeated.

A playful smirk came to Natalya's lips.

"Chess," she said dryly, glancing over at Evelyn, the mage's expression was as cool as ever.

"Is that what they call it in Ferelden?" she asked.

"Cousin," Rhaena gasped, her face going scarlet.

"Well you can't blame me for being curious, cousin," she added quickly not wishing offend the girl. "I know a bit about what men desire, so this…it sounds a little strange to me."

Rhaena sniffed, and gave her an imperious look.

"Cullen was nothing but a gentleman," she repeated, "All men should behave so when getting to know a lady."

It was then that Evelyn finally stepped in, defending her little sister.

"Do not rush into anything, sister," she advised, "Moving forward quickly with anything is rarely a wise move especially with a Templar."

"I'm not rushing into anything," Rhaena responded defensively, "I'm simply helping out Seeker Pentaghast and Cousin Nicholai, they asked me to get closer to the commander, and that is what I'm doing."

Natalya shrugged. She thought her cousin was being a bit naïve, but…

She sighed.

So be it.

Still…she would have thought a seasoned warrior would be more…direct, that he would have sought out what he desired.

Not that she had had much direct male contact herself lately, she realized glumly.

She still had no word from Oliver, despite sending several letters home. The few contacts she had in Ostwick did confirm that he had left the city, no doubt advancing their future claim to the throne.

We should be working together, she thought; I have access to Nevarran contacts here, contacts that could aid us if properly motivated, if only my love will contact me.

We could do much to advance our goals.

Though it was good he was moving forward on his own, she wished that he would have sent word, she was in Skyhold now, had her finger on the pulse of both Ferelden and soon…Orlais.

She could have furthered their ambitions here; all he needed to do was get in contact with her, but still…nothing.

She sighed.

Her future with Oliver seemed farther away than ever, not only that, but it would have been nice to hear from him, read his loving words, such a letter would have only motivated her further, but no, she had heard nothing.

A frown came to her lips.

The only male attention she had received since coming here were the occasional nightly visits from Cole, and those were…strange to say the least.

Cole, she thought.

She was still not sure what to make of the spirit boy.

He was drawn to her for some reason, she could not deny that, but she could not say what was drawing him. She had learned early in life to recognize when a man was attracted to her, what she felt from Cole was something else…different.

The confusion she felt when trying to figure it all out was unusual for her, which, of course, made it more intriguing.

She had come to welcome his visits, she felt safer knowing he was there. Madame Vivienne would have advised caution, when she looked at Cole all she saw was a demon.

Perhaps it wishes to possess you; that paranoid voice in the back of Song's mind warned.

Perhaps Cole is not as helpful as he appears.

She quickly dismissed that idea. Cole had asked nothing of her, no deals or favors, and of no one else from what she had heard. As she had wandered Skyhold, listening to the staff and servants, it was clear that Cole's only interest was in helping others. Most of the staff did not remember his passing, but she had come to recognize the signs. The spirit boy seemed to be drawn to pain and loss; trying to 'Fix the hurt' he might have said had he been here.

Unable to make sense of it herself, she had sought out Solas, the elf did not like her very much, but she hoped he would have some opinion on the matter, given his closeness with the fade.

"Cole is…unique," the elf had said, "If he is interested in you, it is clear that he sees you as someone in danger, someone that needs his help."

"We are all in danger, Solas," she had reminded him, "We are fighting a war against a century's old darkspawn and an army of Templars driven mad by tainted lyrium."

The elf had smirked at that.

"That is the big picture," he replied, "Cole tends to see things on…a smaller scale. He seeks out individual hurts and does what he can to lessen the pain.

The elf gave her an evaluating look then. Natalya could not lie, she felt naked under that gaze; it seemed far older and far colder than anything she had seen before out of her brother's companion.

"Perhaps, Cole sees you as broken, something to be fixed."

He gave her a cold smile.

"Are you broken, Lady Song?"

She snorted and fled, angry at his presumption, but most of all wanting to be away from that cold all-knowing gaze.

Was she broken? She did not think so…

She frowned.

She hoped not.

Regardless, Cole remained a mystery to her. She welcomed his nightly visits, in fact, she felt safe when he was there, watching over her. Sometimes, he drew closer when she was sleeping, or he thought she was, he would sit on the side of the bed and brush a lock of her hair back over her ear. Much as her mother had done when she was a child, and was having trouble sleeping.

Whatever his reason for coming to me, she realized, she did not think it malicious. Was Cole dangerous? He could be if threatened or angered. The things he had said to her early on verified that. Yet, with her, he was a source of comfort, soothing, he had visited her when she had been injured, watched over then, and continued to now.

She welcomed his presence, even if she did not completely understand it.

He wanted to be real, he had said.

Wasn't that what she had sought her entire life? To be recognized by the people that should have recognized her from the very beginning?

She was her father's daughter, but it was rare that he had addressed her as such, even acknowledged her as his.

She wanted to be real too.

She pushed such maudlin thoughts away. Skyhold was too great an opportunity to waste thinking on such drivel.

History was on the move, and those that couldn't keep up would be left behind.

Natalya Song would not be among them.

IOI

The three of them made their way to the audience chamber; Nicholai was expected to announce that he was leaving for Orlais today, for the Winter Palace and Celene's Ball and peace conference.

Natalya expected to be among his entourage. She was quite familiar with the game and its players. She…

She looked over at Varric's spot by the fire; the dwarf was there, relaxing playing cards with…

Her cat-like eyes widened.

Oh Maker!

What was she doing here?!

The woman was clad in a black thread bare cloak, her face mostly hidden by a hood, but what you could see told Natalya immediately who it was.

The pale skin, the strange red birth mark that ran beneath her eyes, eyes so blue that they almost seemed to glow, and could glow during a battle.

Natalya frowned.

It couldn't be, could it?

How dare the woman show her face here?!

She stepped away from her cousins without a word, her temper flaring.

"Where are you going?" Rhaena asked.

"The Inquisitor is about to speak," Evelyn added.

Natalya only half heard them.

She made straight for Varric's "friend" because that was the only person that it could be. She looked around for Seeker Pentaghast; did she know who was here? She had to; the woman would have had to introduce herself to Nicholai.

From beneath her hood the woman noticed her; she smiled that smug smile of hers.

"Look out, Varric," she said, "Here comes trouble."

Natalya nearly snorted with disbelief.

Trouble? Her?

Considering all that had happened in the last few years, if any one deserved the nickname of trouble it was the woman sitting with Varric.

It had followed her wherever she went.

Natalya tried to keep her sweetest smile in place, but it did not come easy, not with this one. There was too much water under the bridge between the two of them to be ever truly civil.

She suspected that this was the one that Varric had reached out to for aid, but had never figured the woman would dare show her face here.

Seeing her again, it brought up a lot of bad feelings.

Natalya tried to ignore them and remain civil, for Nicholai's sake, if for nothing else.

"Lady Moira," she said, "It has been a long time."

Moira Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall smiled.

"Well, look at you," she said, "Little Natty Song, all grown up."

Natalya's smile turned shark like.

"That tends to happen after almost a decade," she said.

Moira laughed.

"So it does," the Champion agreed.

Natalya tried to keep smiling.

Where was Seeker Pentaghast, she wondered.

Surely she would want to see this?

Natalya had been only thirteen when she had first met Moira Hawke, back then, the woman had been no more than a Ferelden born smuggler running errands for those living in underbelly of Kirkwall. Song had not been extremely impressed with the other woman back then, she had had other things on her mind, she had only just started doing missions for Bann Pieter, one such mission had brought her, Stefan, and the Bann to Kirkwall, Her father had told his wife that it had been a business trip, but now, looking back, she knew it was something else entirely.

Bann Pieter had heard that Leandra Amell was back in Kirkwall, he had wanted to see her, make sure she was alright.

They had met on the streets of Hightown. The Bann had picked the woman up and hugged her, laughing like school boy again. Natalya remembered that to this day, the look on the Bann, her father's face.

She had never forgotten it.

In the years that had followed, the Bann had maintained a relationship with House Amell…or rather House Hawke. His friendship with Leandra Amell had kept him always coming back. She had never been his mistress, despite her being single after the death of her husband, but she might well have been. Song had lost count of all the times she had heard the Bann say how close a marriage between him and Leandra had been once upon a time. It was through that friendship that House Trevelyan and Amell been bonded, a bond that would have been closer had any of his children been of marrying age at the time of the woman's return to Kirkwall. Had Nicholai not been on the Circle at the time, the Bann might have suggested marrying him off to Moira Hawke, so great had been his friendship with Hawke's mother.

Natalya frowned.

The Bann had been there for so much in this woman's life. He had cried with her when her mother had died. He stood up with her when she had married, and had her children inducted into the chantry. He had been there for every major event in Moira Hawke's life.

Once he had even said that he loved her like she was his own blood, his own daughter.

He had done so right in front of Natalya. She had held her tongue that day, but she had never forgotten.

Never.

She gave Varric her most acidic smile.

"I can't imagine that Seeker Cassandra is very happy right now with you, Master Tethras."

Varric chuckled nervously.

"You got it right there, Songbird," he said, "I'm probably going to be carrying a few bruises for a while, but…the Inquisitor managed to calm her down, at least I think he did."

"Really?' Natalya asked dryly.

The dwarf chuckled again.

"Yeah, of course, that doesn't mean that I'm not going to let Bianca out of might sight for a while, just in case."

"A wise choice," Song agreed.

She remembered from their time in the Hinterlands together, that Varric had been interrogated by the Seeker, that he had told her he had no way to contact Moira.

Apparently, that had been a lie.

Cassandra was not the type to forgive being lied to.

For now though, she let her eyes drift back to Hawke. The woman still wore her champion's armor and robes, the ones that the Chantry had gifted her after that business with the Qunari had ended.

She still had that sly smile, though, that look before you leap that her father had so prized the woman for, still…

…Song took a small amount of solace in the fact that the years had not been the kindest to Moira Hawke.

Her short black hair was dusted with gray. Her slender figure was not so slender anymore, she was still in fighting shape, but nowhere near the girl she had been a decade ago.

Of course, having children did that to a woman, sometimes, mage or not, and it was not like Hawke had had much time to regain her figure after that business in the Gallows.

Leandra had managed to do it, but her daughter was clearly not her.

"How are the little ones," she asked, "Your family, are they okay?"

"They are safe," Hawke said, "Safe and hidden."

"Good," Natalya said politely, "My father would be so pleased to hear that."

Hawke sighed and shook her head.

"Still feeling a little jealous there, Song?"

Anger flashed in Natalya's eyes.

"I've never been jealous of you, Milady," she said curtseying, "Why would a humble servant of House Trevelyan ever be jealous of a high born like you?"

"I wasn't always high born," she reminded her.

Natalya frowned.

This wasn't about jealousy, it wasn't! After that mess in the Gallows the Templars had turned their eyes on House Trevelyan, and on Nicholai. They had started asking questions, questions about House Trevelyan's loyalty.

The Bann had been furious! Their house had been a chantry ally for generations, how dare they question their loyalty.

Song had needed to silence several enemies of House Trevelyan after the Gallows, people who tried to convince the Templars they were a threat.

That had been Moira's fault. The choices she made that one dark night in the Gallows,

Why should Song not blame her for it?

As for Hawke, herself, she appeared unrepentant, her friend and ally had suffered, and it did not look like she even cared.

Moira smiled at her.

"I see you still wear that bracelet," she said, "The Bann gave you that didn't he?"

He did," Natalya answered covering her wrist.

"You still keep a garrote in there?"

She gave the champion an evil smile.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that question, Lady Moira. I…"

"HIS WORSHIP, THE INQUISITOR, NICHOLAI TREVELYAN!"

The herald's announcement stopped any further conversation. Song bowed to Lady Moira and returned to her cousins. They glanced at the hooded mage sitting with the dwarf.

"Who is that?" Rhaena asked.

"What is going on?" Evelyn asked.

Natalya sighed.

"I'm sure my brother is about to tell us," she said.

She glanced up as Nicholai entered, clad simply in a plain blue shirt and leggings.

She sighed.

Things were getting to complicated here in Skyhold, she realized, too many questions and temptations.

They needed to get back to basics.

They needed to return to the war.

She smiled slightly.

She was ready.

She had been resting for far too long.

She tapped the bracelet that Hawke had mentioned. In fact, there was a garrote inside. She wanted to pull it out, feel the tightness of the wire, to wrap it around her fists, to feel the tension as she wound it around an enemy's neck, and feel it dig in.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

She had played the good little lady for too long.

It was time sing her old song again.

A song of power and death.

Their enemies were many.

The time had come to remove a few.

She was ready.

It was time.