faderift | Sssshhh she'll hear you.

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Sssshhh she'll hear you.

WHO: Katniss Everdeen and Open
WHAT: The Mockingjay listens to Halamshiral
WHEN: Over the Halamshiral visit
WHERE: Halamshiral, all over the city.
NOTES: Slight warnings for elven racism.

In The Merchant Quarter

Inquisition Scouts do one thing where ever they are, and that is listen to the people around them. In the Merchant Quarter, there is no lack of people there. So while the Orlesians wandered from store to store, chattering at one another, Katniss wandered with them, her cloak showing the clear Inquisition pin on it. She let her mouth gape open and her borrowed mask stay a little crooked, and she spoke with the most Fereldan accent she could.

The Orlesians rolled their eyes, and ignored her, which meant she was able to do her job splendidly. Even better was the taverns, when drunken arguing usually meant some sort of useful information to bring along to Leliana later.

In the Alienage

Katniss made herself slight more discreet here - she dressed in her simple clothing and offered her help instead of just helping. At the catcalls of 'shem', her gaze would frost over as she explained that she was, in fact, a half-blood.

That gave her slightly more wiggle room to wander around and listen, but not much. Still, you could find her on the street corners and sitting in front of wells with other half-bloods, nodding her head quietly as they rambled off about their troubles.

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Of course, it wouldn't do any good to discern the secrets of the common folk when it was up in the nobility where they had to pay the most attention. So Katniss came up with an idea, with Vivienne's permission, to have herself pose as a bard to sing in some salons that Vivienne had cooked up.

There was one catch, and it made Katniss slightly nervous. Vivienne wanted her to sing with Kallian. While Katniss liked the girl well enough, she wasn't sure if Kallian would be prepared for what precisely they would be doing in these fine homes.

Which was probably why she was asking, for the fifth time, "You're sure you know the plan?"

"Perform with our voices, observe with everything else," came the answer.

Kallian straightened her dress and mask.
"I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Of course you'll be fine, darlings. Just don't fuss and fret so much with your garments. It's the first and most obvious sign of discomfort."

Vivienne looks them both up and down, critically, knowing full well that the people they will be surrounding themselves with will do the same. Lovely dresses, matching masks, no ostentatious jewelry implying they have more wealth than they actually possess. If there is any problem, it might be a somewhat mistaken notion that Kallian is Katniss' servant. Orlesian sensibilities, if they can ever be called sensible.

"You both certainly look the part." And the Iron Lady couldn't be prouder.

Katniss nodded her head at Vivienne's response - even though the mask was nothing short of annoying. How could people wear these things all the damned time. She gave Kali a piercing glance, but nodded. Short, and to the point.

"Well, that's half the battle right there." She stated, her mouth twisted. "Now we just have to sing like it. Then they'll just let us wander around and listen to them gossip."

And, since it was part of the arrangement, Katniss nodded towards the closed curtain, "The name of the person we're ...checking up on you for, Madame Vivienne?"

Kallian immediately let go of her garments, folding her hands into the delicate, practiced pose the Orlesians seemed to favor.

"Yes, Madame," she said demurely.

"The singing should be all right. They liked it at the soiree. Then, we just have to be politely unobtrusive..."

Ahh look at Kallian and how prettily she poses. It will go a long way to forward her mission for the evening, being able to mimic the mannerisms of those she is there to observe. She gets a nod of approval from Vivienne. "Indeed they did, my dear. I shouldn't doubt you'll have at least a few guests attempt to poach you away."

Because it's vulgar to steal someone's servants and workers, but if it can be pulled off, it becomes one hell of a coup for the new employer.

Her attention then turns to Katniss and her question. She considers how much she should share of the little she knows and how it factors in the Game, as opposed to allowing them both the space to feel the details out themselves. A name is easy enough to supply, though she's convinced they will soon see for themselves why that particular woman.

"You will want to look to the Baroness Laetitia Jacquet. Her holdings are quite modest and her title a sup for her father's faithful service under Emperor Florian. Curiously she's managed to keep herself clear of having to take a side in the civil war." Vivienne's voice takes on a hard edge, indicating that such is not the full story. "At least not in a public way. Hedging her bets is risky, but a valid play in the Game. Perhaps. She's been ignored and not pressed because her meager properties wouldn't yield enough resources for either side to be worth the trouble."

Which begs the question, why is she suddenly bursting onto the social scene and how is she funding a particularly exquisite wardrobe? Sparkling new, at that.

Katniss glanced over at Kallian and sighed in quiet envy. Honestly, what she wouldn't give for some natural grace and beauty instead of having to tap herself into some serious tugging, pulling and otherwise keeping a blank expression of coolness. Kallian was at least believable as a bard.

She was just going to have to sing, and keep quiet. Work on what meager charms she had in desperate situations.

"All right then." She tilted her chin up a little at Vivienne, "We are ready when you are, Patroness."

Arching an eyebrow at Kallian, "Ready to take lead?"

Kallian's attention was fixed on Vivienne, eyes glittering behind her mask as she took in the information. But her rouge-painted lips were fixed in an equally delicate and practiced smile, mannerisms she had first learned from her mother years ago.

"I will strive to impress. Let's do this." She looked to Vivienne. "At your pleasure, Madame."

With a final nod, Vivienne turns to enter the party. She has a way of carrying herself that is half-gliding/half-swaying and all-intimidating. If anyone actually dared to point out the truth of the matter, she's just a mage who got lucky by making herself an influential noble's mistress. No one's ever so crass, nor so stupid. The woman's been firmly installed into the life of the man who heads the Council of Heralds and has the Empress' ear to boot. Crossing her is dangerous.

Which is why every head turns as Madame de Fer saunters in, and everyone is willing and eager to offer her smiles along with a healthy dose of fearful respect. No one at all thinks twice at her bringing along a bard or two to the party. Almost everyone has at least one in their entourage, like a life-sized, person shaped accessory. They're all to mingle, playing their own version of the Game while those with power do so on a different level. All carefully timed steps to ensure a win.

On her way through the room, she accepts a glass of champagne being passed around on a tray. It's safe to drink. Nobody is so vulgar as to attempt to poison guests at a salon. It's a far better show to do so at the dining table. None of the members of the Council are here this evening, which is both a disappointment and a relief. It sets the tone for the evening, which is playing hard against people far beneath her.

Fortunately, her friend, Vicomtesse Elodie is among the guests. She becomes the Iron Lady's first point of interest, to assure her dear friend that joining the Inquisition was the only sensible choice to make. Poor dear had been so frightened that Vivienne had gotten mixed up with murderers or worse.

Katniss isn't alone in receiving catcalls, as 'flat-ear' often follows a small, pale elven woman in Grey Warden armor as she makes her way through the area. With a staff on her back and a mabari at her side, her own status as outsider couldn't be made more clear. She does her best to ignore that sort of attention, instead focusing on those few who will speak with her or let her buy from them. When she finally admits a break is needed, she'll pause by a well with a self-depreciating smile.

"Mind if a flat-ear joins you?"

Katniss has set up corner, selling meat and leather, two things that every good alienage needed. She had gotten the slurs, naturally, and those who were sneering enough to speak in broken Dalish.

Which was their mistake, because Katniss did at least know that. She still played ignorant, and that ignorance allowed her to make rather reasonable sales and gather a bit of information.

She arched an eyebrow at the young elvish Warden mage that came to stand by her, but her mouth twitched up, "Not as long as you don't mind standing by a half-breed."

"That's never bothered us before. Has it, Garahel?" Her mabari promptly plops down in front of Katniss with those big, soulful eyes. Heritage is nothing compared to the fact that she has meat available. Can't she tell he's starving?

Deciding it's a little cruel to expose him to that without letting him have some, Inessa nods, resigned. "I'll pay for his portion. He's behaved himself today, so I suppose it's only fair."

Katniss smiled down at the dog, before taking out one of the choicer bits of meat. "No need for that. Grey Wardens give enough that a piece of meat seems like a poor substitute."

She tossed it to the mabari, confident that he could catch it in mid-air, before she nods over to the Grey Warden, "I don't think you want raw meat ... but I have some pretty good tea in that bottle there"

Garahel shows of his speed and grace despite that bulk by leaping up to catch the meat in question, happily scarfing it down afterward. Yay, new friends! (But also; yay, meat.) "Tea would be lovely, thank you. And I admit, it's still something of a welcome surprise to hear the Grey Wardens spoken of in such a positive light." Sure, the Fifth Blight is in living memory, but so is their mess in Orlais. It's an awkward time to be a Warden, no doubt.

Katniss leaned over and picked up the skin. This, she handed over to Inessa, with a polite little nod and a wry smile. "One mistake can't erase, in my mind, hundreds of years of service. Besides, I'm from Fereldan, born and raised outside of Redcliffe. We owe the Wardens everything."

Given that Inessa was starting to get a headache from tea-deprivation, this encounter has proven very timely. Nodding in thanks, she takes a refreshing sip. A few more of that and the headache will subside just fine. "As do I. I'm from Kinloch Hold, the tower the Wardens visited during the Blight. We owe them more than I could ever say. This is my way of repaying it."

Now that made Katniss's eyebrows raise together. "So you were there when the blood mages took over?" She pauses, for a long moment, before asking, "Did you know, ah, Commander Cullen then?"

Inessa straightens up at mention of the Commander, a little surprised at being asked about him. "Yes, though I doubt he remembers me personally. He left the tower while I was still a child. He seemed kind if inexperienced, at first, but after all that had happened, he...changed." Her delicate way of saying that he became bitter and harsh, and because of those changes was sent elsewhere. "I was surprised to hear that he had left the order and joined the Inquisition."

Katniss sighed softly, leaning back against the wall. She gave the Warden a wry little smile, touched with sadness. "I think the Fifth Blight changed all of us, and ... maybe not for the better. Some wounds take longer to heal. He's ... a changed man again."

She nods to that, though declines to focus on any of her own wounds. Cullen's a safer topic, in that respect. "So I've heard, and I would believe it. The older Cullen wouldn't have allowed the freedom that the mages currently enjoy in the Inquisition. And I've heard that he has a pup, as well. Mabari don't imprint on just anyone, do they boy?"

Finishing his snack, Garahel looks up and wags his tail. "I'll defer to a mabari's good judgment." In that, if little else, she's very Fereldan. "Are you one of his subordinates, then?"

"From what I've heard, that is absolutely true." She smiled faintly, "That he does. Adorable little ball of blue energy, and mabari are ... well. I believe all animals are a better judge of character than we are. Except cats. Cats are just evil."

She nods her head slowly, keeping her gaze straight ahead and non-chalant. "I do my part for the Inquisition, yes." She glanced around, "Just don't go spreading it around here."

Not having an opinion on cats either way, Inessa just shrugs at mention of them. "I'll have to take your word for it, as I was never a pet person until Garahel. And your secret is safe with me." She isn't at all surprised that the Inquisition would be employing spies to suss out the general attitude of Halamshiral; it would be more surprising if they didn't.

At least Garahel is unconcerned about the local tension, happily resting on the ground and wagging his tail at anyone who passes. Not many dare to approach the large war hound, but that doesn't seem to dampen his spirits. "...I wonder if you could confirm my suspicions about something, then. I might be wrong, and I would rather know otherwise than live in ignorance."

"Then you are very fortunate, my lady." Katniss smirked faintl, before she nodded her thanks once more. Her grey eyes shift sideways at that question, before she nodded again once.

"I can try. Nothing for nothing, though. I shall need some information in turn." After all, who knows what someone might have told a Grey Warden that they wouldn't tell her?

"Fair enough. You can ask what you wish of me." Inessa has her limits, of course, but so far the conversation hasn't strayed anywhere truly uncomfortable. "I've been among those aiding in the recovery of the destroyed sector, though I've noticed some wary and resentful looks from some of the locals. Do they think we are trying to erase what happened, help Orlais deny it existed?"

Katniss paused for a moment, because that really was a juicy bit of information. She rubbed the side of her nose for a moment, glancing around once more before she nodded to Inessa to step closer. Even the walls had ears, after all.

When the woman was right next to her, Katniss leaned in and murmured directly into her ear. "Not as much Orlais ... as Celene directly. She is the one who had the building set aflame to quell the uprising. From my sources, though, it's just gone further underground."

Inessa steps closer, though she's not entirely comfortable about it. But she ignores that discomfort in the name of discretion. "Ire against Celene and Orlais as a whole is entirely understandable. I would not wish them to believe we are here to make their situation worse, however. There must be a way to turn this around, have them see that we are here to help."

Katniss shifted away, so there was distance between them once more. "I am afraid the only way we can achieve that is if we came down firmly on their side."

She sighs, provoking a curious whine from her mabari. "Which is unlikely. The Inquisition needs Orlais' support, not another enemy. The elves are, as always, inconvenient."

"Not unless we help Briala." Katniss covered her mouth as she said it, so no one could read her lips. "Which, honestly, I would not mind at all."

Inessa's eyebrow raises a little at mention of that name. This time in Orlais is a refresher for her rusty political sense, if nothing else. "The 'ambassador', right? I've heard some mention of her, though I've yet to see her myself. Perhaps that could be possible, if she has enough backing and circumstances align. I wouldn't dare to hope otherwise."

Orlais was sort of a crash course for everyone's political ambitions, honestly. None more than Leliana's spies, who hadn't played on this level. At all, or ever.

Especially not Katniss. She was mournfully aware of that as well, considering what it would take to get Briala on the throne.

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Sssshhh she'll hear you.

For Kalli and Vivienne

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