Work Text:
She's still in Docktown, this is one of the less frequented Warehouses, the poison that knocked her out is fading slowly, leaving her drowsy yet unharmed, like a healer's draught before they perform some sort of surgery. Chains on her wrist, around her good ankle too, but her Prosthetic is missing. That sucks.
I'm chained to a couch, the poison isn't painful, the chains are loose enough for comfort. Who is this? Can't be Venatori, I'd already be dead. Antivan Crows using me as a Lure? Possible, but Lucanis would've just asked. Her expression twist and turn between worry and confusion as she tries to make sense of her situation.
A familiar metallic clink on the stonewrought floor, before her, amidst the darkness, she sees movement at the edge of the candle light. She sees it, her prosthetic in the shadows hands. "I was hoping to have returned this before you woke up. I simply wanted to have a look."
A woman, older, maybe in her late thirties. Blonde hair tied in a severe bun, a stern expression on her gaunt, malnourished face. Her robe reminiscent of old Tevinter, not unlike Venatori, but the colors are softer, purple instead of red, bronze instead of gold. As she step into the light, the dimming candlelight reflect on the stranger's prosthetic. "Quite the sturdy piece, Detective." The woman's voice is hoarse, like she's screamed too long.
"Thanks for bringing it back, but, you have me at a disadvantage, Miss." Neve sasses back. Her gaze follows to struggling motion of the woman as she takes a seat next to her, a little too close for her own comfort. "You could have just dropped by my office."
"My presence in this city would have alerted Archon Pavus and forced him to act in rash ways." The woman shakes her head slowly, her words slow and tired. "I needed a way to speak with him. I believe I found it." she runs her finger across Neve's jaw. "I am Calpernia." Silence strikes her words down as she feels her prisoner brush against her finger.
"Doesn't ring a Bell." Neve says, taking her prosthetic back and putting it back on, the proximity allowing her to see, feel, the scarring on the woman. "Are you injured?"
"It has been like this for long, it is what remains from a foolish battle I had no hope to win." Calpernia rests against Neve's side, too much pain to stand upright. "Would you pen a letter for me, My Dear? I won't even dictate anything you say in it. I just want it to reach the Archon. For him to be willing to speak with me instead of destroying me on sight."
Neve narrows her eyes at the strange behavior the woman is displaying, recognizing fear, but also an odd sort of admiration. "Why did you pick me?"
"Your name is on all the right people's lips, spoken in all the right ways. I've heard you've been seen in high company too. A rare combination in this country, to say the least." Calpernia's eyes dip at the wrong time and Neve catches her.
"My eyes are up here, Calpernia." Neve speaks, a firm tone, one she's used to great effect before. She notices a similar reaction too.
A blush creeps up Calpernia's neck, turning her cheek a shade of red, Neve can feel the heat of her shame, the older woman's gaze turning away. "My manners are as broken as my body."
"It's flattering, but I think you need to be focused on your goals here." Neve teases, dryly. "I'll need paper and a quill and a promise no one's getting harmed in this process."
"No one is getting hurt, not you, not the Archon. I'm just looking to ensure the same for me." Calpernia produces a scroll and a quill from the fold of her robe. "There's a crate just to your right you can probably pull as a makeshift desk."
Neve does manage to pull the crate and place it in front of her. "I'm less worried about the Archon as I am any of the workers that stumble across you or your people."
"How sweet." Calpernia speaks her voice fading a bit further, resting her chin on a gloved hand, watching Neve compose the letter. "You actually care." she clumsily places her hand on Neve's thigh too high, making her tense, gasp in such an enticing way at the sudden touch. "They are in no danger."
"What do you want to say to Archon Pavus?" Neve asks, squirming in her seat, sitting between discomfort and a fire building beneath her skin.
"That I wish to help him…" Calpernia takes a deep, labored breath, before her breathing returns to normal. "… help him burn away the Venatori taint from our world, to help rebuild this country, make sure the Archon hears the voice of the people."
Neve stops writing and turns her attention to the woman struggling to breathe. "What's wrong?" Neve takes the hand that rest on her thigh and grabs it in both of hers, feeling the almost feverish heat in her touch, from her whole body.
As she keeps breathing deep, Calpernia slowly manages what ails her, enough to be able to speak, though her voice remains hoarse. "The price for my foolishness, a broken body." Her gaze lingers on the hands surrounding hers.
"I appreciate the dramatics, but, I think you can do better than accepting what fate dealt you and find a healer." Neve scolds with a gentler tone, only now realizing the chains have fallen from her wrists, somehow, the heat beneath her skin flares high, tingling across her spine and the back of her neck.
"Finish the letter, please." Calpernia says, trying to free her hand from Neve's, failing.
"Are you sending it by Candlehops?" Neve sets back Calpernia's hand, on her thigh, exactly where she found it and she picks the quill up again, trying to hide the shiver the hand provokes. "Or did you think I could throw a letter that far up?"
"I was hoping you would tell me how to send it." Calpernia says, staring at the hand left on Neve's lap, like she's trying to scrutinize the meaning of life from it.
"I know how to get a letter to the Archon, but I can't just tell you that." Neve says, finishing the missive rather swiftly, giving it to Calpernia.
"Dear Dorian. An old acquaintance of yours from the Inquisition days asked me to get in contact with you urgently. She wants to fight Venatori apparently, but she has a troubling lack of manners and a weird way to get in touch with people. She needs a competent healer and a kind touch. We're in one of the Docktown warehouse along the Dockmaster's office." Calpernia manages to read it, aloud, without much more issues. "How did you know?"
"I'm a Detective." Neve teases, watching what the other woman does with the letter.
Calpernia carefully folds the letter and place it in a pocket, then her gaze settles back on Neve, both of her hands firmly on her lap. "What do you need to get it to Archon Pavus?"
"A dead drop, or I could deliver it somewhere I know would be able to reach him." Neve speaks softly. "Either way, I can't do it from here. You're going to either have to be brave and come with me, or trust me to do it while you wait."
"I don't have it in me tonight to walk across Docktown, but I'd like to accompany you." Calpernia admits, looking back down, at her own hands.
"Does that means I'm still your prisoner?" Neve asks with an almost playful tone.
Calpernia narrows her gaze at her prisoner. "And that pleases you? why?"
"Well, as far as spicing my evening up, I've done worse." Neve finds herself surprised at the flirtatious tone her voice has. "Add some wine and some khachapuri maybe?"
"What was in that poison bottle?!" Calpernia looks at her Neve, a sense of panic rises from her as she attempt to stand up. "Did someone use blood magic on you?"
"Easy, easy Calpernia." Neve set her hands on her arm, gently pushing her back down on the couch. "You had a medical sedative in that bottle, your people did not use magic on me." She squeezes Calpernia's arm. "I'm just that kind of strange, it seems. There's… a kinship, here, I think. I'm not willing to throw it out over a bad introduction."
"Just my luck." Calpernia's hoarse voice gives out, the frustration evident on her exhausted feature.
"I think your luck might be turning for the better." Neve teases. "Give it a day."