From Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine to the Hawke estate in Kirkwall
To Jonathan Hawke,
You do not know me… at least not personally. You likely know me as the 'Hero of Fereldan' or the 'Fereldan Warden-Commander.' What most people do not know is my actual name. I am Theron Mahariel. I will keep this brief: I have heard of your exploits and wish to meet you in person. If you wish to meet me as well, I will be traveling to Kirkwall and shall arrive three days after you receive this letter. I must request discretion as I have many enemies who might take advantage of this meeting. Let no one else see this letter and bring no one with you. I shall do the same to ensure we meet as equals.
Sincerely,
Theron Mahariel, Warden-Commander of Fereldan.
Hawke's reply.
To Warden-Commander Theron,
I accept your request. I shall be waiting alone at the docks for your ship.
Sincerely,
Jonathan Hawke
Kirkwall's docks, near Theron Mahariel's personal ship.
"The stories of Kirkwall do nothing to prepare one for this…," Theron says, examining his surroundings in a mixture of awe and intimidation.
The docks are filled with people walking about. Some are dockworkers or sailors. Some are citizens of the city.
The rest, however, are Fereldan. Refugees who came to Kirkwall to escape the Blight over a two years ago, and were now trapped in the city due to a poverty that likely didn't exist for them when they fled their homes from the darkspawn.
Theron catches the attention of a few of the refugees and some others. The refugees open their eyes wide, blink a few times, and shake their heads trying to make sure they aren't just seeing things. Soon they realize that their eyes aren't playing tricks on them, the Hero of Fereldan has arrived in Kirkwall.
Theron notices all of this, of course, and shrugs it off. I guess I should get use to it. He scans the crowd, searching for Jonathan Hawke.
From the description he received, Hawke was a tall man with short, blonde hair and green eyes. It was also implied that Hawke may be a mage, and an apostate at that. Of course, the word 'apostate' meant nothing to him, nor would it mean anything to any Dalish. But Hawke was drawing a lot of attention to himself, and that meant that the Templars were that much more likely to take notice.
Theron had also heard rumors that Anders was somewhere in the city. Though he wanted to search for his old friend, his priority was to meet with Hawke. Besides, if I go looking for Anders, he'll assume that I'm trying to bring him back to the Wardens.
While Anders' leaving the Wardens caused an argument between them, Theron held no grudge. He just wanted to make sure that Anders was fine and keeping away from the Templars.
Theron looks over to his left and sees Hawke standing near a stack of crates, alone. He walks over to him, keeping an eye on the guards and some of the more shady figures on the docks.
"Jonathan Hawke?" Theron asks.
"You must be Theron Mahariel," Hawke replies, offering his hand in greeting.
Theron grasps Hawke's hand and shakes it, acknowledging the gesture. "A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine. I certainly wasn't expecting a letter from someone as distinguished as yourself."
"I keep an eye and ear out for talent. When I heard of your skill, I had to meet you."
"I'm honored that you thought my skills were impressive."
"You have been making quite the name for yourself. That would be quite dangerous for you if everything that I have heard is true."
"What do you mean?"
"I have heard that you are a mage. And an apostate. While that means nothing to me, I wouldn't be so sure that others wouldn't tell the Templars of this."
"It is true that I am a mage, as my father was and as my sister was."
"You have a sister?"
"Had. She was killed by an ogre as my family was trying to escape Lothering."
"I am sorry. I know what that must have felt like."
"Thank you. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"
"I apologize, but I would prefer to speak in private. Would you follow me to my ship? We can speak there more openly there."
"Of course. Just as long as it is just the two of us. The last ship I was on was filled with refugees and cargo."
"Follow me then." Theron turns around and they head to his ship. Halfway there, however, Theron is stopped by a guard.
"Halt, elf," the guard orders. "What is your business in the docks?"
"I have come on personal business," Theron responds plainly.
"'Personal business,' eh? I think you are here to steal something. Come with me."
"What do you think you're doing?!" one of the refugees shouts, running over to the guard.
"What does it look like? I'm taking this elf back to the alienage to make sure he doesn't cause trouble." Some of the refugees start to take notice, as well as a few guards.
"He is no ordinary elf. That's Hero of Fereldan!"
"Him? You must be joking. There is no way that the 'Hero of Fereldan' is some pathetic elf." More refugees take notice and some approach the scene, as well as a handful of guards.
"He is telling the truth," Theron explains.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Do you really want to take that chance?" Hawke asks. "What do you think Guard-Captain Aveline will do when she finds out that you forced the Hero of Fereldan into the alienage?"
"I… uh… I apologize messere." The guard turns around and returns to his post, ashamed. The other guards return to their posts as well.
"Thank you for you assistance," Theron says to the refugee, thanking him.
"You are very welcome messere," the refugee responds with a bow of his head. "Some of the guards are like that to elves. At least they got a home, unlike my family."
"I am very sorry to hear that. Here, take this." Theron reaches into his pocket and hands the refugee five sovereigns.
"Five sovereigns? I-I can't accept this."
"Take it. Buy some food for your family."
"I- Thank you messere!" The refugee bows his head respectfully and rushes off joyfully.
"May we continue?"
"Of course."
