Chapter Text
Chapter One
“Hannah! Wake up, Hannah, for the Maker’s sake!”
"Wha?” Hannah asked, feeling groggy, as she felt a woman’s hand shake her vigorously by the shoulder. “Madam Lusine? Why are you – “
“There is no time,” Lusine said curtly as she set a candle down next to Hannah’s bed. “We have a very important customer who is requesting the ‘special service’.”
Hannah glanced out her window as she sat up, then groaned. “Maker, what time is it? It was past two when I went to bed, and it’s not even dawn yet!”
Lusine scowled. “It is time for you to get dressed, put on your best smile, and go downstairs now.”
“Fine, fine,” Hannah grumbled. She brushed a few long red tresses out of her eyes. “I can’t believe I have a customer at this hour, the Blooming Rose shouldn’t even be open now.” One might think that a brothel never closed, but the fact remained that Madam Lusine needed to sleep too, and she didn’t trust anyone to deal with their clientele but her.
“Technically it’s not, but this person insisted.”
“Person?” Hannah repeated. Person probably meant woman. She’d bedded both genders, but unsurprisingly a substantial majority of her customers were men. “Very well.” She slipped into a silk dressing gown, tying it in the front but artfully arranging the folds so that a person wouldn’t have to leave much to the imagination. Granted, if they paid, then they’d get to see every inch of her, but having repeat customers depended partly on first impressions, which in turn depended partly on presentation. “Shall we?”
“Quickly, quickly,” Lusine said, barely giving her another look as she retrieved her candle and swept out of the room, giving Hannah no choice but to follow on her heels.
The top floor of the Rose consisted of sleeping quarters for Lusine and her highest-paid employees, while the chambers where said employees entertained her wealthiest clients was one flight of stairs down. So Hannah had little time to contemplate who the mysterious customer was. The Viscount was out, for the very simple reason that the Qunari had killed him two weeks ago. A high-ranking Templar was utterly ludicrous. Other than them, the most powerful person in Kirkwall was . . . not the Champion? Hannah had heard that the new Champion’s preferred the fairer sex in her bedchamber, but she’d also heard that the Champion was already bound to someone else. Of course, if she was, then visiting the Blooming Rose at THIS hour made more sense.
Before she could ponder this any further, however, Lusine stopped at one of the closed doors along the hallway. “Remember, whatever the customer asks. This time in particular. You will understand why.”
Then Lusine opened the door, practically shoved Hannah in, and slammed it behind her.
What had gotten into that woman, she thought as she righted herself and finally set her eyes on her client.
And promptly questioned what her eyes told her.
“At last she arrives,” Meredith Stannard said dryly, clad in full armor.
Hannah gaped stupidly for a moment. “M – I mean, Knight-Commander, I’m honored.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe,” Meredith replied, her voice rich with sarcasm. “Yes, a Knight-Commander of the Templars is an important person, but not as important as a queen!”
She’d thought herself surprised. Now she was completely shocked. “Queen?” she asked innocently after a few seconds. “I think I’d remember bedding a Queen.”
“Not your clients, you, Anora Theirin.” Meredith stood up. Her face was cold and implacable. “I think you’ll find, Anora, that when it comes to new arrivals to Kirkwall, very little escapes me.”
With a closed door behind her and the most powerful woman in front, Anora found herself agreeing with Meredith. Escape felt like the furthest thing to her.
Wearily Anora took a seat. “If you’re going to, I don’t know, kill me or banish me for whatever it is I did to get your nose bent out of shape, could we get it over with? I’ve had a long day on my back, and I’m tired.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Meredith said.
“Then why is it?” Anora asked. She should have relaxed a little at Meredith’s words, but instead she found herself in a bad mood. She’d sought out anonymity for some time, and now a woman considered the biggest bitch in Kirkwall had told her she’d known all along. “Somehow I doubt it’s to bed me, although everyone seems to think a good fucking might help get rid of that sword up your ass.”
Meredith scowled at her.
“Don’t make a face,” Anora continued recklessly. “As you are now, you’d be an improvement over most of my clients.”
“Are you finished being glib, Fereldan?” Meredith replied. “By the Maker, you surely are an annoying lot.”
Anora shrugged. “I’m not really permitted to share my own opinions when I’m with a paying customer. I have to take the opportunity to speak my mind when it comes.”
Meredith sighed, rubbed her face, and muttered something about “bloody refugees”.
“Come to think of it, Knight-Commander, you look tired yourself. Are you sure this can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“No, it most certainly can NOT. I can’t be seen entering the Blooming Rose in broad daylight, and I thought having you dragged to the Gallows by armed templars would be – counterproductive.”
The use of the word “counterproductive” implied that Meredith wanted something from Anora, something she couldn’t simply compel by force. “Then let’s continue, shall we? So we can both be back in our beds?”
“Fine,” Meredith said, still insisting on standing. “I’m sure you know that I haven’t appointed a new Viscount.”
They probably knew that in Orlesia by now.
“My critics, who are legion, accuse me of wanting to control all of Kirkwall myself, when I would love nothing better than to find a replacement. Dumar was incompetent AND unreliable, two things I normally can’t abide, but I let it go because he seemed to be managing the affairs of the city just adequately enough that I didn’t need to worry about it, nor did I need to take the time to find a replacement. I simply don’t have the time to worry about the mundane realities of life in Kirkwall when I have the Circle to monitor twenty-four/seven. Clearly, however, he mismanaged the Qunari issue so badly that a lot of blood was shed. A replacement MUST be found, one who knows what they’re doing and can be somewhat trusted. Unfortunately, lately it has seemed nigh impossible to find a single person outside the Templars who isn’t scheming against me. Appointing a Templar would create even more dissent, as well as unacceptable chain-of-command issues.”
Meredith paused.
Anora was about to ask what this could possibly have to do with a deposed queen-turned-two sovereign whore when Meredith looked at her. “And then I remembered you.”
“Me? What do – wait, no. No.”
“I’m told,” Meredith went on, ignoring Anora’s denials like she hadn’t even spoken, “that Queen Anora ruled Fereldan while King Cailan amused himself and enjoyed being king. Even your enemies admitted you were intelligent, hard-working, and knew what you were doing.”
“You cannot possibly be asking ME, a Fereldan, a disgraced queen, a glorified streetwalker, to be your new Viscount.”
“You’re quite right,” Meredith said, briefly raising Anora’s hopes. “The title of Viscount shall remain vacant. I’m asking you to be my new interim civilian administrator, with the same job duties that Dumar had. And I expect, actually no, I insist you answer yes.”
Anora took a moment to stare stupidly at Meredith while her mind desperately marshaled all the arguments she could think of against this mad plan. Because she had a feeling Please don’t make me do this wouldn’t satisfy her. “Look, no offense, Knight-Commander, but you don’t strike me as a much of a politician.”
“I’m not sure why that would OFFEND me, but go on.”
“Yes, but perhaps if you were, you would have looked at this idea from all angles and seen why it could never work. You referred earlier to your ‘legion of critics’. If they weren’t happy before, what makes you think they’ll be any happier NOW? In fact, Meredith, you may have chosen the one person whose appointment would outrage everyone in Kirkwall. I’m a Fereldan, so anyone born in Kirkwall will see me as yet another interloping refugee stealing something rightfully belonging to them. The nobles will see a former queen and think I have designs on the title of Viscount for myself. The Fereldan refugees will remember me as Anora, daughter of Loghain, willing co-conspirator in her husband’s death. And eventually it will get out that I was formerly a prostitute, which means anyone who DOESN’T think this is all some sort of evil master plan, won’t take me seriously!”
And Meredith just shrugged.
“THAT’S your response?” Anora snarled, outraged. “You want me to take on a thankless job as a huge favor to you, and you don’t even care that you’re making it impossible to boot?!”
“I already considered every point you raised, and I felt it only proved you’re exactly the person I need for this,” Meredith replied calmly.
“Have you been drinking? Is that it?”
“If everyone in Kirkwall feels either hatred or contempt – “
“Or both,” Anora interjected angrily.
“Or both, then you have no power base. No natural allies. Which MEANS I can trust you about as much as I can trust anyone outside the Order or the Chantry,” Meredith said. “There’s nothing to gain in betraying me, because no one will thank you for it. Really, I’m the only friend you have.”
“Some friend,” Anora muttered, even as she saw the logic in Meredith’s words. Being the quasi-Viscount would be terribly hard for Anora, but not so much for Meredith.
“Friend, yes,” Meredith repeated. “I’m not sure if you see the benefits of what I’m offering you. No more high-class whoring for a living. No more living in a brothel. No more hiding who you really are. You get to do something you must have enjoyed doing when you were Queen, so much so that you’d murder your husband to hold on – “
“I did not murder my husband!”
Meredith leaned back, evidently surprised by Anora’s furious outburst. Or by Anora suddenly rising to her feet, so that they were almost at eye level. “You said – “
“I said people would SEE ME as the murderer of my husband. I never said I did it. And it’s not semantics either! I know what you’re thinking. ‘Yes, Cailan was murdered by darkspawn, but she conspired with her father to make that happen.’ I had no idea what my father was planning.”
“There’s a rumor,” Meredith said slowly, “that Cailan was going to divorce you and marry the queen of Orlesia.”
Anora was the one to shrug now. “I’ve never seen the proof of it. And even if it’s true, and if my father knew, why would he share something so incredibly hurtful with me?” She pointed a finger at Meredith. “There is NO record of me ever being convicted, tried, or even charged with murder or treason, Meredith! You can see for yourself. You think I betrayed my husband because I wanted to hold on to being Queen? Well, I was BANISHED because I backed out of an agreement to marry Alistair and remain queen. That made me a threat to his throne instead. And I reneged on our agreement because I’d just witnessed him behead my father!”
“The same father who DID betray your husband, unless you deny that too.”
“I don’t deny it,” Anora said, feeling a sharp pain in her chest as she always did. “He was still my father.”
Meredith looked at her silently. “Family,” she finally said.
Anora suspected there was a story there, and that she wasn’t going to hear it. She was right.
“Fine, you didn’t kill your husband. You were just a woman who enjoyed serving the public good, and was compensated well for it. How is this any different?”
Five years serving the public good, and Fereldans only see a monster. What makes you think Kirkwall will be any different?
But she didn’t say that, because she saw it wouldn’t matter. Instead she said, “And what if I DON’T accept your offer?”
Meredith smiled. It was nasty and Anora dreaded it. “Fereldan and Kirkwall are allies. If they don’t want you, we don’t want you either. I’ll put you on a boat within hours, and I’ll make sure Fereldan hears about our gesture.”
Anora closed her eyes. Having to start all over again . . . where would she go next? How lucky would she be the second time? Anora’s life was much worse than anything she’d ever imagined for herself growing up, but she could also imagine it being MUCH worse than that. And Meredith’s offer – it would be better.
“How much leeway would I have?” Anora asked quietly. “Everyone out there will fight me on every decision, setting me up to fail.”
“You do your best,” Meredith said. “If you don’t give your fullest effort, you’re on the boat. If you try your best and you’re still not succeeding because some fool is blocking you, just tell me and I’ll remove the – obstruction. If you can do a satisfactory job long enough, I’ll appoint a real Viscount to take over, and I’ll make sure you never have to sell your body again.”
Anora sighed. It was the best of a bad lot.
You know you want it.
She started. She almost could have sworn someone whispered that in her ear, but it could only have been her deepest desires speaking. And yes, maybe part of her really did want to use her mind again, as opposed to her flesh.
“When do I begin?”
Meredith nodded. “Report to the Gallows tomorrow at 9 sharp. Knight-Captain Cullen will be waiting for you. That will give you enough time to conclude your affairs here.”
“My clients were the only ones having affairs here,” Anora said.
The Knight-Commander snorted. And then without another word, she showed herself out, bending so that massive sword strapped to her back could fit.
She’d said Anora wouldn’t have to sell her body any more.
So why did she feel like she was still getting screwed?
To be continued . . .