Chapter Text
Eli walked with Cassandra to the back of the Chantry building. Voices could be heard arguing from the room at the end of the hall. When they stopped to discuss the mark at the end of the hall, everyone in the room stopped talking as if waiting, or maybe listening or both. Walking in with Cassandra, Eli saw Leliana with Cullen, and a noble woman of some rank, given her chain of office. Eli tried not to stare.
The noble was strikingly beautiful, but carried herself with the confidence of one who didn't have to trade on it. She was introduced as the Ambassador, which explained the chain. Lady Josephine Montilyet. Orlesian name, but thick Antivan accent, Eli noted. She was dressed in the style of an Antivan merchant prince, though with several feminine touches. No coat, her waistcoat was cut with a plunging neck line, and she wore an extravagant blouse with billows along the sleeves. Her breeches were also cut looser than a man's style, though you could barely see them beneath the generous knee-length waistcoat. She cinched her waistcoat with an interesting rigid wrap of some sort, which seemed to double as an underbust corset-belt, as Eli noticed she didn't seem to be wearing anything else to support her rather clearly ample breasts, even under all that fabric. Finally, the whole ensemble was finished off with a sash worn in an offset triangle over the hips that matched her blouse. Eli'd never seen any noble woman dressed in such a manner, and even all the more surprising, an Antivan. The Antivans were more rigid about their gender roles than anywhere in Thedas. Eli was more than a little intrigued.
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Josephine took a deep, but subtle breath. Not that Cullen would have noticed if she'd made a dramatic sigh of exasperation at that moment. Leliana, on the other hand, might have already noticed, despite being locked in what seemed like a mortal, though only verbal, combat with Cullen, debating whether to ally with the mages or templars. Josephine was more than just a little frustrated with them both. It's not like making a choice mattered right now since neither side was at all interested in the Inquisition.
Just as the two of them seemed to have run out of steam and there was a blissful moment of repose in the room, Cassandra brought the so-called Herald into the war room. As introductions went around, Josephine was mesmerized. It's not like the Herald was particularly handsome. Actually, they were kind of boyish. But there was something about this person that Josephine couldn't quite put her finger on that she found... attractively intriguing.
There Eliaster stood in front of them all, wearing the ill fitting clothes that Josephine had had to guess at the sizes when they brought them back from the breach, a little too tight here, a little too big there; they couldn't have the Herald of Andraste wandering around in battle-stained servant's clothes after all. And yet, despite being short of stature for a human, their new Herald seemed to fill the room. Quietly confident, if unpolished in manner, she thought. Comfortable questioning people they would have been serving just days ago. Who was this person? Spy, assassin? Cassandra had reported that Eliaster had been woefully untrained in battle, though seemed to have at least a keen sense of survival. Apparently they had grabbed a dagger off a corpse and managed to fend off darkspawn rather crudely and desperately, though apparently fairly bravely, given their lack of skill. So probably not assassin. Leliana and Cassandra had both concurred with that assessment.
Josephine knew that Leliana was leaning toward spy, since it seemed there was next to nothing known about them besides that they had been servant in the Haven Chantry before the Conclave. But Leliana was prone to being suspicious; it was her job, and it had become too much her nature. Josephine had some training as an Orlesian bard, and so it wasn't naivete that told her that this person didn't feel like a spy. It was more that Josephine had a way of feeling people out, intuitively. It's part of what made her good at diplomacy. And nothing about this person felt like spy. There was something particularly guarded about Eliaster though. She did consider however that it could just be that they had just been set free from prison after some ruthless interrogation, and then pushed into mortal combat with darkspawn by the very people in this room. Still, good as she was at the grand game, it was always possible that she could be wrong. It would be wise to be wary, until they knew more about Eliaster.
On the other hand, of course, it was clear to all that there was no way that Eliaster could have created the mark. They had no magical tendencies, and it was preposterous to think that they had anything to do with creating the Breach. Josephine wasn't terribly religious, but she did have faith in the Chant. So she agreed with Cassandra: whether it was Andraste that had been seen in the rift or not, Andraste had chosen this person to bear the mark. She had to have faith in that, at least. Time would have to show them all why.