Madeline stepped through the shimmering Eluvian, the ancient mirror's surface rippling like water as she emerged into the heart of Ferelden. The sudden shift in surroundings still took her breath away, no matter how many times she used the Eluvian Network. One moment she had been in the quiet solitude of West Hills, and the next, she found herself in the bustling city of Denerim, the capital’s sprawling skyline stretching out before her. The city was a mix of old stone and new growth, a testament to the resilience of Ferelden and its people.
Her thoughts drifted briefly to West Hills, to the responsibility she had left in the capable hands of Rian Bradigan. Trusting someone with her lands and her people wasn’t a decision she made lightly, but Rian had proven himself time and again. Madeline knew she had made the right choice, though a small part of her still felt the weight of her absence. Leadership was a delicate balance, and leaving for such an extended period always left her with a sense of unease. But this meeting was too important to delay.
As she walked through the winding streets of Denerim, Madeline’s mind focused on the task ahead. The Orlesian refugees were fleeing the blight, seeking safety in Ferelden, and the situation was becoming increasingly dire. She needed to speak with the Arlessa of Denerim, Mara Tabris, to discuss how they might coordinate efforts and ensure the refugees were treated with compassion and care. Ferelden had its own scars from the last Blight, and Madeline knew that handling the influx of refugees required both diplomacy and a firm plan.
The predetermined meeting place was a quiet, discreet location on the edge of the city—a small, well-tended garden tucked away from the bustle of the streets. It was a peaceful spot, a place where they could speak openly without fear of prying eyes or ears. Madeline appreciated Mara’s choice; it reflected a mutual understanding of the delicate nature of their conversation.
The garden was bathed in the soft glow of the early afternoon sun, the warmth of the day tempered by a gentle breeze. Madeline allowed herself a moment to take in the surroundings, her sharp eyes noting the well-kept hedges and the small fountain at the garden’s center. It was a place of serenity, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing across the border.
She approached the stone bench near the fountain and took a seat, smoothing the folds of her travel cloak as she settled in. Madeline’s mind began to run through the points she wanted to discuss, from the logistics of housing and feeding the refugees to the potential strain on Denerim’s resources. She knew Mara was a capable leader, and she hoped that together they could find a solution that would benefit both Ferelden and the displaced Orlesians.
As she waited for Mara to arrive, Madeline’s thoughts returned to the Eluvian Network, and the immense possibilities it held. The ancient mirrors connected distant lands in ways that had once seemed impossible, bringing leaders like herself and Mara together to discuss matters of great importance. It was a reminder of how small the world could be, and how interconnected their fates truly were.
Madeline straightened her posture, her expression calm and focused. She was ready for this conversation, prepared to navigate the complexities of politics and the very real human impact of the Blight. The wind rustled the leaves around her, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city as she waited for Mara Tabris to join her in the quiet garden.
Mara knelt among the flowers, taking a moment to enjoy them surrounding her in the garden. Since becoming Arlessa, she had made efforts to improve the visual look of Denerim, and having more hands working in the garden was but one of the ways she did it. She wanted to bring some life and joy back to the place where her mother would always take her.
There were the common flowers one would expect to find in this garden- roses, lilacs, lavenders, but Mara has also made an attempt to grow some of the wilder varieties for morale’s sake. Crystal grace, Ebrium. She has even made an attempt to grow Andraste’s Grace, but growing them domestically had proven to be quite challenging.
Mara had wanted to come early to this specific garden. It was a more private garden, not many people would come here save for the people tending to the gardens and the occasional visitor. Most tourists in Denerim preferred to visit the more extravagant, lively places- one of the larger, grander gardens or the marketplace. Mara would try to keep it as much of a secret as possible that she visited this garden- she’d rather keep it a small refuge for herself whenever her duties as Arlessa were too stressful. But today, she was here for business.
There was a refugee crisis in Ferelden- hundreds of refugees were flocking into Ferelden, seeking shelter from the crisis of the Blight, and some had begun to seek refuge in Denerim. She would be speaking to Madeline Wulff, mother to the King of Ferelden, and Arlessa of West Hills. It was a matter of urgency to address the issue as quickly as possible- as much as she does not want to turn away the people in need, she needed to consider the Ferelden people as well. Her people. She needed to discuss matters of housing, food, employment, and surely the uproar many Fereldens would have against having to co-exist with Orlesians
Mara stood up. No doubt Madeline would be arriving soon, if she had not already. She had encountered her fellow Arlessa before- having seen her at gatherings the two attended, mostly hosted by her son. The two had briefly exchanged formalities, but that was the extent of their interactions with each other. She did know that Madeline was a competent leader, who took her position seriously. In such confusing and unusual times, that was needed now more than ever. Especially if, Mara hoped, Madeline did not suffer possession like the former has.
As suspected, Mara found Madeline sitting on a bench. Feeling a little more relaxed from her time in the garden, but still remaining as professional as she could, she approached Madeline and cleared her throat to make her presence known.
“Madeline Wulff,” Mara greeted bow, polite and formal. “I am pleased to see you have made haste with your arrival. We have much to discuss.”
Madeline turned her head at the sound of Mara's voice, offering a warm, welcoming smile as she stood to greet the Arlessa of Denerim. The tranquility of the garden, combined with the weight of the impending conversation, made the moment feel both serene and solemn.
Arlessa Tabris, Madeline replied, inclining her head respectfully. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I agree, there's much to discuss, and I'm glad we can do so in such a peaceful setting.
She gestured to the bench, inviting Mara to sit beside her. The soft murmur of the fountain and the rustling leaves created a soothing backdrop for the serious conversation that lay ahead.
As she settled back down, Madeline took a moment to gather her thoughts, her gaze briefly sweeping over the flowers that surrounded them. There was something comforting about the blooms, a reminder of resilience and beauty even in the face of hardship.
I wish our meeting could be under better circumstances, she began, her tone measured and thoughtful. The situation with the Orlesian refugees is becoming increasingly dire. Ferelden has always prided itself on its strength and its ability to withstand adversity, but this influx of people... it presents challenges we haven't faced in a long time.
Madeline looked at Mara, her expression earnest. I’ve been doing what I can in West Hills—taking in as many refugees as possible, ensuring they have food, shelter, and some semblance of security. But the numbers keep growing, and I fear that we may soon reach our limits. That's why I wanted to speak with you. Denerim is the heart of Ferelden, and your leadership here is crucial. We need to coordinate our efforts to ensure that these people are treated with compassion and care, but also that our resources are managed wisely.
She paused, allowing Mara a moment to absorb her words before continuing. I’m also concerned about the potential unrest this could cause among our people. The memory of the last Blight is still fresh for many, and the idea of Orlesians settling in Ferelden—however temporarily—might not sit well with everyone. We need a strategy, not just for managing the resources, but also for maintaining the peace.
Madeline leaned forward slightly, her hands resting in her lap as she considered the many facets of the situation. I believe that with careful planning, we can find a way to help these refugees without compromising the well-being of our own people. But it will require cooperation and a clear plan. I'm eager to hear your thoughts on how we might approach this together.
The gravity of the situation was not lost on her. The decisions they made in this garden would ripple across Ferelden, affecting countless lives. But Madeline also felt a sense of resolve, knowing that this was where she was meant to be—working alongside others to protect and guide the people of Ferelden through whatever challenges lay ahead.
Mara accepted Madeline’s offer and sat down next to her fellow Arlessa. She sat silently, allowing Madeline to speak. Mara could not find fault in Madeline’s words- this was a crisis that needed to be addressed swiftly yet carefully, effectively and efficiently so that all involved would benefit.
Mara nodded. She had heard the stories of Ferelden refugees of the Fifth Blight being rejected in the Free Marches and Orlais. Even when Ferelden was deemed safe again for the refugees to return, many of them had nothing to return to. Many of the smaller villages were destroyed, and even her city was partially decimated by the Darkspawn’s attack. She knew the horrors of people having nowhere to turn to when their home has been lost.
“The Fifth Blight forced thousands of Fereldens to leave their homes for refuge in Orlais and the Free Marches,” Mara said with a frown, her voice solemn. “I have seen those that have returned after the Blight having nothing left. Not even resources to rebuild their old life. It would surely be no different for the Orlesians.”
Her biggest priority was her people. With the influx of refugees, there would surely be tension between the Fereldens and the Orlesian refugees. She knew Denerim’s alienage would be more welcoming to their elven brethren, but even she could not be certain that the Alienage would be able to accept the refugees, let alone accept them peacefully. And who was to say the Orlesian refugees were not to cause any problems, especially those with ‘holier-than-thou’ attitudes towards the elves?
“One of the biggest points of concern will be resources,” Mara continued. “Denerim is the largest city in Ferelden, true, but even we have only so many resources to go around- food and water we could easily enough through trade, but shelter and housing may prove to be more difficult to provide for. A majority of these people may be forced to sleep in the streets if we do not provide the adequate shelter they will need. I’ve never been the religious type, but Maker knows what could happen. They could easily be taken advantage of by petty criminals looking to make easy coin, or worse. Not to mention, Ferelden Winters are not the kindest for the people to endure.”
Mara shivered slightly at the thought. She remembered when life was more difficult in the Alienage, where she caught numerous fevers from the cold alone, having to cling to her mother or father’s side for the slightest bit of warmth.
Madeline listened carefully to Mara, her expression solemn but thoughtful. The Arlessa's concerns mirrored her own, and it was clear that both leaders were grappling with the same difficult realities. The memory of Ferelden’s own refugee crisis during the Fifth Blight was a painful one, and it gave Madeline a deeper understanding of what the Orlesians were facing now.
You’re right, Madeline agreed, her tone measured. The strain on resources is going to be immense, and shelter will be one of our biggest challenges. I’ve seen it in West Hills already—makeshift camps springing up on the outskirts of towns, people huddled together with barely enough to keep them warm through the nights. It’s unsustainable. And as you said, the coming winter will only make things worse.
She leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting momentarily to the fountain before returning to Mara. We need to approach this with both short-term and long-term solutions. In the immediate future, we could repurpose some of the unused buildings in Denerim—warehouses, perhaps, or even large halls that could be temporarily converted into shelters. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it would be safer than the streets. We can also look into establishing more formal refugee camps on the outskirts of the city. They would need to be well-guarded, of course, to prevent the kind of criminal exploitation you mentioned.
Madeline’s brow furrowed as she considered the broader implications. In the long term, though, we have to think about how we’ll integrate these people into Ferelden. They may not be able to return to Orlais for years, if ever, and we can’t expect them to live in temporary conditions indefinitely. We need to find ways to employ them, to make sure they can contribute to the communities they’re living in. Otherwise, tensions will only grow, and we risk creating a situation where they’re resented by the locals—or worse, exploited by the nobility.
She paused, her expression softening as she added, I know this won’t be easy, and I don’t pretend to have all the answers. But if we can work together, I believe we can find a way forward. I’ve already started coordinating with some of the other arls and banns, and I think it would be helpful if we could present a unified front. If the people see that we’re working together—acting with compassion but also with pragmatism—it may help ease some of the fears they have about the Orlesians.
Madeline offered Mara a small, encouraging smile. We both know how important leadership is in times like these. The people will look to us for guidance, and it’s up to us to show them the way. I’m confident we can do that, even if it means making some difficult decisions.
Mara listened to Madeline’s suggestions, at the same time going through her mind what can be done for the refugees.
“Empty Warehouses could be easy enough,” Mara said. “There’s one down near the alienage that hadn’t gotten the opportunity to utilize. Not the most ideal, but it’s a start. The Chantry could provide some shelter as well, and I could persuade some of the nobles to allow the refugees to take shelter in their halls, though that may not be easy. I could even allow some refugees into my estate as well. There’s plenty of room.”
Having lived with only advisors and her staff for so long, Mara had found she had a lot of extra room in the estate, and not much of it is being utilised. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the most ideal place to permanently have refugees settle, but for the time being they will have shelter.
“Setting up refugee camps is something to look into. Not only for the refugees to have somewhere to live for the time being, but also employment opportunities. Some can be paid to build the shelters, those who can fight can guard the camps. Those proficient with a bow can be taught to hunt for food as well in the nearby forests. As for other employment opportunities, I know of a few practices looking for apprentices- blacksmiths, shoemakers, jewelers, and with the current situation at hand, having a few extra soldiers in Denerim’s Army could prove to be helpful in the long run.”
She thought of the potential uproar the Orlesian refugees would cause among the people of Denerim. “I have some advisors who could help keep morale up and prevent the outrage the crisis may call for. I will even speak to the people myself to ensure there is no rioting or violence targeted towards the refugees. I know all too well what it is like to be sneered just for existing.”
Madeline’s words were surprisingly uplifting, and she had a point. The leaders of Ferelden needed to unite and decide unanimously on what the future for the refugees hold. But she had her doubts and worries. She hadn’t been the most popular arl in Ferelden. Not only for her elven heritage, but having a more radical political viewpoint and heavy reforms in the city.
“Your confidence is reassuring, my lady,” Mara said with a small smile. “It makes me almost confident that the rest of the arls and teyrns of Ferelden won’t look at me as if I were a dead cat.” She chuckled, though more of a sad chuckle than a funny one.
Madeline’s smile softened as she listened to Mara’s words, appreciating the Arlessa’s practical suggestions and the personal touch she brought to the conversation. The idea of turning unused warehouses and the Chantry into shelters, along with the possibility of enlisting nobles to help, was a smart start, and it reassured Madeline that they were on the same page. Mara’s mention of her own estate was especially telling of her commitment to helping those in need, even if the task was daunting.
You’re doing exactly what a great leader does, Mara—thinking of every possible solution and using all the resources available to you. Offering your estate is an incredibly generous gesture, and I believe the people will take notice of that. They’ll see that we’re not just asking them to make sacrifices, but that we’re leading by example.
Madeline leaned forward slightly, her tone encouraging. And the idea of creating jobs within the camps—construction, security, hunting—that’s exactly what we need. If we can show the people that these refugees aren’t a drain, but a potential asset, we’ll be one step ahead in keeping tensions low. Giving them meaningful work, especially in trades like blacksmithing and shoemaking, will not only help integrate them but also strengthen our local economy in the long run.
She paused for a moment, her expression turning more thoughtful. Mara’s comments about keeping morale high struck a chord with her, especially the Arlessa’s candid mention of her own experiences. Madeline could hear the sadness in Mara’s chuckle, and it made her admire her resilience even more.
Mara, you’ve faced more challenges than most Arls in Ferelden, simply because of who you are. And yet, here you are—leading Denerim with integrity and compassion. If the other Arls and Teyrns can’t see the strength and wisdom in that, then they’re the ones who are blind, not you. Madeline’s voice was firm, laced with genuine belief in the woman beside her. I’ve seen firsthand how much you care about your people and about doing what’s right. And that’s what will make the difference here. We may not win over everyone, but together, I know we can find enough support to turn the tide in our favor.
Mara felt a sense of appreciation for her fellow Arlessa's encouraging words, kind even. She thought of it as mere practicality, nothing more, but the thought that the fellow Arlessa, someone who had lead for much longer than her, approved of her strategies was encouraging.
“I’m merely thinking practical,” Mara said. In the past, such words would have caused a more cocky, arrogant response, but she had certainly humbled herself over the years. “I have the resources, and it does not inconvenience me or others to make use of them for the refugees. Too many of the leaders I have seen facing similar refugee crises focus on what they do not have, instead of utilizing what they do have to benefit the people.”
Madeline’s words of Mara’s achievements were kind, perhaps something the elf needed to hear in such desperate times. She had faced many challenges as Arlessa, and many of those challenges came from people who disapproved of Mara’s new title. But Mara had spent her whole life as an elf in a human’s world. She was used to humans after her for blood. She merely had to rethink her strategy- she was no longer a scrapper of the alienage, nor a mere warden rogue, but a leader the people look to for security, wisdom and most importantly guidance.
“Your words are encouraging, Lady Wulff,” Mara said with a small smile. “I may be an elf in a field dominated by humans, but that’s how it has been my entire life. All that it took was for me to look at my options. Being an Arlessa certainly opened new possibilities for my old challenges, not to mention the new ones I have had to face.”
If only there was a solution to the Spirit inside of her- restless as the elf had been years ago, when the first Blight was still considered a threat to Thedas.
“I would also have to speak to the king about such matters. Hopefully your son will be willing to see reason and help with resources for the refugees.”
