in on it

by leonidskies

Summary:

Evka attends a ceremony for the Grey Wardens in Minrathous and the Divine is strange; Antoine flirts with Tarquin and he says something odd. These things are connected.

Notes:

• For Settiai.

The best way to describe the Divine's expression, Evka thought, was meaningful, but it was somehow a full hour after the ceremony before she understood exactly why.

Sure, she'd admit it: she hadn't been paying all that much attention. It was some fancy Tevinter thing, all theatrics and no substance. Apparently being the de facto head of the Wardens meant she had to entertain some of the nonsense though, so there she was.

Antoine, the handsome bastard, had managed to wiggle his way out with an 'oh, but you lead the forces' and a 'well, the Tevinters don't really like giving elves fancy medals,' so the only friendly face in the crowd was Rook. And it was a big crowd, fit for a big Chantry, now cleared of rubble and broken glass and blight bits but not quite repaired yet.

Minrathous' eternal drizzle drifted in through bits of the ceiling. Over by the Archon's special seat, there was a professional umbrella-holder to keep Her Magisterness dry, because Stone forbid she sit somewhere else. Evka had been assured, at one point, that the umbrella-holder was paid, which really said everything about doing anything at all in Tevinter.

There were four Wardens, in the end— the ones who brushed up nice enough that they'd look good and shiny standing in front of the Divine. The man in question glided into the Chantry with a wafting cloud of incense. Each glowing brazier sparked into a roar as he passed, and Evka wondered if it was the Divine's magic or if they had a horde of definitely-paid-they-promise mages waiting in the wings just to make the man look more impressive.

He delivered a sermon that Evka didn't really care to listen to but knew to act like she was even a little bit invested in. His voice was familiar; she'd listened to enough sermons from well-meaning clerics in her life, probably. They all blended together in the end. Usually didn't matter if they were paying lip service to the Wardens or if they genuinely believed in what Evka was doing; the only important thing was walking away with the cash she needed to supply another excursion.

There'd be a lot of that, over the next few… months? Years? Fuck if Evka knew, but she was sure the task wasn't done. The Tevinter Chantry had found some money for it, alongside the Magisterium, so that was good enough for her. She'd listen to a hundred lectures about the Wardens bringing the light of the Maker to the lands of Thedas if that was what it took.

When he was done talking, the medal presenting began. That was when it started to feel a little odd: when Evka stepped forward, and the Divine met her gaze. He had very bright eyes, blue-green like the water of a mossy lake deep underground. And he kept watching her, and watching her, even as he took her hand. For a moment, the thought flashed through her mind: was he going to kiss her knuckles?

Instead, he went for a firm handshake, but he was still looking at her the whole time. It was eerie; eerily familiar. There was something going on here she wasn't privy to, but he expected her to be.

Damn it, she wasn't a politician. She wasn't equipped for all this subtle subterfuge — better to hit something with a hammer and let results do the talking.

When he let go, the ceremony continued. She received her medal, and so did the other three. Some kids in overstarched robes sang a little segment of the Chant or something, and then the Divine left before everyone else. Like that, it was over, and all Evka had was a little shiny piece of metal, a promise of supplies, and a hefty helping of confusion. What the fuck was his deal?

---

When Evka left the official Warden quarters for their time stuck schmoozing in Minrathous, light was fading from the sky and a lamplighter was making her way down the street. Evka tipped her a wave and promptly dipped into the alleyway at the bottom of the street.

She didn't know how, exactly, the Shadow Dragons had arranged for the official Warden accommodations to be right next to a catacombs entrance that lead right back to their current base of choice. All she knew is that someone had done it, and Pavus and Tilani denied it, so it was probably their bookkeeper. She couldn't imagine the Viper being particularly handy with administration, somehow.

Whoever did it, it was convenient; she emerged into the warmth of the base without a single run-in with errant darkspawn or anything else that prowled the catacombs, right into the middle of laughter.

"And then—" Evka knew the sweeping, excited gesture Antoine was making with his arms without even climbing the stairs— "the nobleman falls through the bannister. Which isn't in place, because—"

"Because he told his servants to stop screwing them in." It was Tarquin's chuckle that drifted down the stairs. Antoine had taken quite the shine to him. "Priceless stuff. Rich bastards like that are the same all over, huh?"

"Absolutely." Tarquin and Antoine were at one of the tables pushed against the walls in the room, reams of paper scattered over the surface. Evka didn't have a handle on all of Antoine's work, but from a glance she could tell it was his. "Ah, Evka!"

Antoine stood from his seat, crossing the floor to throw an arm around her. Must have been a fantastic conversation, then. "Evening, Antoine."

"How was the ceremony?"

Evka shrugged. When she looked over at Tarquin, he was watching them both rather carefully. "Same as usual. Big words, fancy visuals. Bit more rain than usual, and the Divine seemed pretty peculiar, but it was nothing too out of the ordinary."

Tarquin snorted. When Evka raised her eyebrows at him, he shook his head and schooled his expression back into careful neutrality. He'd been a templar before everything went tits up in Minrathous, she was pretty sure. Maybe he knew the Divine.

“Ah, well, we’ll get what we came for, yes?” Antoine kissed her cheek. “And I have been having a very enjoyable afternoon with Ser Tarquin.”

Tarquin looked away. There was pink colouring his cheekbones, which was… cute, honestly. “Just Tarquin, Antoine.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve been over this.” Antoine turned his sunniest smile on Tarquin, and Tarquin’s cheeks reddened further. Antoine had been working his charms, then. “He’s been trying to tell me he’s not gallant.”

“Well, that’s clearly not true at all.”

Tarquin looked at Evka, then Antoine, then back at Evka. She could see him putting the pieces in his head, the solution to the equation forming somewhere in the furrow of his brow. "You are coming on to me," Tarquin clarified.

"Undoubtedly," Antoine said. "If you're amenable, of course."

Tarquin paused, shifting in his seat. His gaze slipped to the next room, right to the spot that Evka understood was the Viper's usual haunt. Ah, that explained a few things. "It's complicated."

"Ah, then no worries!" Antoine smiled. "We won't bother you. Just take it as a compliment."

He'd be disappointed, though, and Evka could guess there was a little more going on than a lack of interest. Most people didn't spend half an afternoon chatting with a flirting Antoine if they weren't at least a little bit interested.

“No, please bother me.” Tarquin crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. He bit his lip. His gaze, once again, drifted to the Viper’s empty spot. “See if you can’t bother him, too.”

“Hm?” Antoine asked.

“He’d get out of his leathers?” Antoine would pick it up.

“Well, don’t think he’s into women.” Tarquin shot her a wry sort of smile. “Not that you’re not hot as hell, so no offence.”

“None taken.”

“Ah!” And there, he’d caught up. “I did not realise that you and Ashur…”

Tarquin pulled a face. “It’s new.” And Evka could guess what that meant: ‘since the blight ended’ kind of new. The sort of relationship that only started with the realisation of just what losing each other might feel like. “In a…” He shook his head.

“We won’t pry if you’re not telling.”

He shook his head again. “No, it’s— we’ve hooked up. With each other, with other people. Sometimes at the same time. But feelings, you know, that’s new.”
Well, that brought down half the hurdles between the ‘no’ Evka had been sure they’d reach and the ‘yes’ she was hoping for. She could work with that.

“We could ask him,” Antoine suggested. “Do you know when he might come by?”

Tarquin shrugged, then looked right at Evka again. “Do you?”

He had that fucking expression, the one the Divine had earlier, and that was when all the weirdness finally slid into place. Tevinters. Tricksy little fuckers, the lot of them.

“You know what?” she said. “Yeah, I think he might be by soon. When he gets here, you two have some explaining to do, and then we can talk about where you’re all sleeping tonight.”

Tarquin replied with an absolutely shit-eating grin. Yep, Evka could already tell: whatever this turned into, it was going to be a fun one.