Chapter Text
9-31 - Arl's Estate, Denerim
When Leliana put her package down, she took a few moments to admire the entrance hall of the Arl’s Estate. Accustomed to the baroque splendor of the noble Orlesian mansions, she had not expected such refinement in the home of a lord whose culture seemed more boorish to her.
The influence of the Arlessa may have been at work. In any case the style of the house tinged the fereldian robustness with elegance.
“This is not as defensible as I would like, but it will do.” Sten commented, inspecting the thick walls of the castle.
She joined the qunari with a smile: “I was rather admiring the works of art, look at this painting !” she said, pointing at a huge view of Lake Calenhad and Kinloch hold, “Isn’t that beautiful?”
“This painting will not protect us in the event of an attack.”
“You know, I could get to like this.” said Zevran, looking at a man with a bald spot head and dressed with care who posed on the elf a disdainful look, as if to challenge him to get used to anything.
« The last time I came to Denerim, I stayed at an inn so filthy the bedbugs had fleas... » added the assassin with a wink that made a young maid blush and giggle when she came to take his luggage.
The servant in charge of Sten’s package was trembling with fear. The irascible attitude and the suspicious look that the qunari threw at him did not make things any better.
“I can carry my stuff by myself.”
"Please..." asked the servant in a very small voice, "I will be in trouble if I do not..."
Sten handed his travel bag to the young man who nearly succumbed under the weight.
“I keep the sword”.
"But I ..." protested the servant
“I. Keep. The sword”.
Ymlaïs intervened by placing a hand on the servant shoulder and addressed a look to the bald man who seemed to be the keeper of the house.
“This sword is... Very valuable to my friend. He won’t use it here, you have my word. Isn’t that right, Sten?”
"Please, let it be Denoel. This Grey Warden is our guest of honour. Do as she asks." declared the Arl when entering. The chamberlain raised an eyebrow in the direction of the elf and the qunari and finally nodded to the servant who escaped as fast as he could.
“My dear friends, this is Denoel, our chamberlain who holds carefully this abode in my absence and in my presence. If you need anything, he is your man. Because I declare it officially, this house is yours. Denoel will show you your rooms. Take a rest, the road has been long. Teagan! I charge you to ensure the security of the place. Alistair my boy, come with me, we have a lot to discuss before the landsmeet».
The Arl left the place, followed by the young warrior who seemed to be going to the slaughterhouse.
Zevran’s laughter resounded in the hall : “Our proud Grey Warden will make his entrance into the high society… I can’t wait to see it!”
"Well, I don’t" mumbled Ymlaïs before following a maid to her room.
Leliana and Zevran exchanged a sorry look. The assassin shrugged his shoulders as a sign of helplessness.
“It pains me so much to see her like that. I wish I could do something to change her mind, to make her smile again,” the bard sighed.
“They must have a few good bottles in the cellar in a cabin like this.”
“Oghren, every problems aren’t solve with alcohol!”
“Who’s talking about solving problems? I’m thirsty, that’s all,” replied the dwarf, heading to the kitchens.
Wynne placed her hand on the young woman’s shoulder: "You cannot appease everything Leliana. There are trials that one must go through, alone...".
She was interrupted by a loud cry.
"Maker!" exclaimed the chamberlain as he saw Morrigan. "My Lady, what happened to your outfit ? They are in tatters and you are half naked! Were you attacked during your trip ? Sheila, be sure to get this lady some new clothes!"
Opening wide eyes, the young bard exclaimed, "Oh! I know what she needs!"