So, this is my latest fic, I hope you all enjoy it. It's a little bit more 'Deepest Road'-esq than 'Truth'
Let me know what you think :)
...
It hadn't seemed so… 'scary' when they had stood, side by side at the entrance. Yet now as the pale elf looked down at her tanned companion, steeled in concentration and set at her task, Merril could not help but wish that she had thought better of accompanying on this little venture. Or at least that Hawke were here to talk some sense into the Rivaini.
The tunnel stretched onwards before them; Merril could almost imagine herself in the bowels of the dread wolf, or lost once again in the Deep Roads… either way, it seemed a ridiculous notion that they were beneath the bustling city of Kirkwall… yet that was exactly where they were. Not that that helped her nerves, she had been beneath the ground enough times to know that anything that clung to shadows in the dark places of the world were not likely to be friendly.
"Isabella?" Her voice came out more of a squeak than anything else, and although her friend's replying smile was something of a comfort, it did not cause her to cease her actions nor Merril to cease her shaking.
"Hush, Kitten, it won't be much longer." In spite of her soothing tone however, the hissed curse as she turned away was not lost on the mage. "Damned switch!" The pirate grunted. "Honestly… it's almost like they don't want their treasure to be stolen…"
"Well, they probably don't…"
"Pish posh, Kitten," came the cheery response. "Taking things from rich people and giving them to the poor is exactly what life is about. And I am very poor, so it's only fair…"
Merril frowned in confusion, though she doubted that her friend, fixed on her task, had noticed. "How can you justify stealing when all you do is try and get your boat back?
"Ship." Came the clipped correction.
"Well, yes… but it's the same thing really, isn't it?"
Even though the pirate's expression was hidden from view, the elf could tell the silence was a little strained as it stretched into a moments. "You didn't have to come along you know…"
"Oh! No!" Came the involuntary squeak, "I didn't… didn't mean it like that… it's just… it's just…" She squeezed her eyes shut, willing a logical answer. Creator! Why was she so bad at this?! The minute she got flustered the words just ran away from her…
Merril was surprised to feel a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know." Came the warm voice. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Kitten, don't worry. But you're always saying your want to get stronger… how else do you expect to do that without any practice…?"
"Well, I suppose…" the mage ventured a response.
"And besides," Isabella leaned in closely wrapping her arm across the young woman's shoulders, so close that the Merril could make out every curve caused by the crooked grin across the rogue's face. "Imagine the look on Fenris and Ander's face when you're kicking their backsides on the battlefield…"
The smile spread to Merril's own lips. "I would rather enjoy that." She admitted. "That would shut them up, wouldn't it?" She giggled.
"Tch, well let's not get ahead of themselves… I don't think they're happy if one isn't complaining and the other one isn't looking longingly at certain people and going out for air dramatically…"
"He does give Hawke puppy dog eyes." The mage agreed as Isabella turned her attention back to the switch.
"Hmmmmm, it's a good job I never set sail with him… think I'd have ended up pushing him overboard." She chuckled to herself.
"What do you mean?" Came the expected question.
"Well, you don't want someone with no stamina aboard your vessel… otherwise you may as well walk your own plank…"
There was a moment's silence. "I'm sorry, Isabella, I don't follow…"
"Sex, Merril, I'm talking about sex."
"Well, what have planks got to do with anything… unless you were tying someone to a plank…"
"No… Kitten…"
"But if Hawke could have tied Fenris to a plank, he couldn't have walked out I suppose so…"
"Merril! It's not literal. My point is he left after one night with Hawke… doesn't that strike you a little… odd? Maybe his… performance… was a little wanting?"
"Maybe it was Hawke that was…"
Isabella snorted. "Not likely. You've seen the way he looks at her."
"…I suppose."
"In other news… I think…" There was a click, and a rumbling across the floor, "I've sorted this switch…"
"Finally!" Merril smiled in relief, watching as several pressure plates snapped back into place on the floor. "I knew you could do it."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
Merril became aware of a shaking in another panel to her right… was that… a hidden door being revealed?!
As the light of the shining torches greeted her blinking eyes, Merril saw to her relief, a much cosier looking corridor than the cold, damp turning tunnel that otherwise lay ahead. The way looked mostly dry, and the golden light of the fire, a comfort.
Still, it seemed a vain hope, so before Merril extinguished the light from her staff she thought it was best she checked. "Please tell me that it's this way… and not… you know the other scary dark way…"
"All I can say, Kitten is, if I were planning on hiding a precious stone all the way down here, I'd want some comfort." The smile on her lips was small, but the glint of gratification that reflected in her eyes was unmistakable. Merril let her magic fade, yet to her surprise it seemed to make her feel cold rather than relieved. "Now let's go… before the damp sets in places where it's harder to dry."
"You mean like The Hanged Man…? I think it's a bit damp in there too."
The strained look that Isabella gave her was enough to tell her that was, in fact, definitely not what she had meant, but the smirk was enough to let her know that she had brought some amusement to the proceedings, so she decided to leave it at that. Merril's eyes turned back to the corridor, and she felt an icy jolt dart down her spine.
"Um… Isabella. If there's torches lit down here… do you think there might be someone lighting them… do you suppose?"
The question was answered for her, when several shadows shifted from somewhere within the tunnel, and there was the unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls. Footfall that grew thunderously louder as the seconds moved by.
Isabella's tongue clicked against her teeth in annoyance, her stance shifted and her hands raised to the daggers at her back. "How annoying. Well, stay near me, Kitten, I'm sure it won't be more than we can handle."
Merril was sure that the ground had begun to shake, and that the light of the torches had dimmed as the men strode forward, shadows silhouetted against the darkness behind. The glint of a sword here, an axe there… and was that… a symbol she was sure that she recognised…
But there was no time for that, Isabella had already engaged. Merril pulled her magic forward, and threw a ball of raging fire at the mercenary closest to her. He flew backwards and landed in a tangle of limbs and a chorus of groans. Of course, that did not stop the others from charging, as the distinctive scent of charred flesh wafted over the room…
….
The smug grin across Hawke's face as she laid her cards on the table was very nearly enough to make Varric scowl. "I win." She declared in an unassuming tone that was betrayed only by the triumphant gleam in her eyes.
"You cheat." He corrected.
"Now, now Varric…" The blonde chirped perkily as she collected both decks for a re-shuffle. "What's that you used to tell me? Nobody likes a bad loser… and you are losing badly…"
Varric muttered darkly, begrudgingly reaching into his increasingly empty pockets. "Either the Rivaini's been teaching you tricks behind my back or you're not as dumb as you look."
"Oh! I don't know about that… I could always bring up that time that I let you fool me into that little… endeavour at 'The Blooming Rose'… what was that again?"
The merchant felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he kept his steady expression none-the-less. "… now Hawke, there's no need to bring that up…"
"Oh yes… paying off your tab, wasn't it…?"
"What's a little fun and frolics between friends?"
"With an extortionate amount spent on Donna the Dwarven Dominatrix?"
"That woman was very dear to me…!"
Hawke's eyebrow arched and the smugger than smug smile returned. "You probably should have haggled then…"
Varric's eyes narrowed, he snatched the last coin he had been holding back from its hiding place and all but slammed it on the table. "Well played, Hawke."
"Oh… don't give me that look! It's not like your coin isn't going to be spent on the swill you drink anyway…" She beckoned to the woman behind the bar, who set to getting their drinks in spite of the busy crowd. Apparently the benefits of keeping the Champion happy were not completely lost on the staff here at the Hanged Man.
The frothy flagons arrived swiftly, and as Hawke turned to thank the girl, Varric swiftly collected the cards from the table… eager to ensure that there would be no more loss from his wallet tonight. "So…" He leaned back, collecting his drink from the table, "it's been a while, my dear Hawke, how's life?"
She sighed, "Ohhhh, same old same old. Getting covered in blood, killing bandits, slaying demons, avoiding a certain Knight-Captain…"
"Clinging to old flings…" He added.
She blinked, seeming a little taken aback for a moment. "I am not 'clinging to old flings'!" She retorted, though the merchant noticed she took a nervous sip from her drink.
"You are so."
"Am not."
"Listen to yourself, Hawke! If you were any further in denial it'd count as a vacation..." He waited for a moment, taking in the sight of her red cheeks, slightly angered expression and pursed lips before daring to continue. "I'm not saying give up on the Elf, I'm just saying… well… if you never let off any steam your cogs will get all het up."
Her expression moved from one of mild anger to one of utter bemusement. "That makes no sense… but I'm a little disturbed that I know what you mean… or at least think you mean…"
He shrugged, "I'm a natural storyteller, sometimes the important details are delivered by images we don't expect…" His eyes raised to take in the figure rapidly closing in at Hawke's shoulder. "Speaking of things we don't expect… Aveline! What a surprise! It's not every day the only two women in Kirkwall that can scare me shitless are in the same room as…"
The look of anxiety that was evident when she came closer was enough to cut Varric off. "Hawke! We need to go now." The red-head leaned in and hissed urgently.
"Aveline, what's-?" The concern on Hawke's face was blatant
"We'll talk on the way to Ander's clinic."
"Why to Ander's clinic?" Varric cursed. "Is Blondie alright?!"
The sombre expression turned to face Varric. "He is, yes… Merril and Isabella on the other hand…"
The bench scraped loudly as Hawke and Varric surged to their feet. Their drinks now forgotten.
"Let's go."
…..
Fortunately, they met little resistance en route to Ander's clinic. Perhaps it was the grim expression across their faces that conveyed to those normally stupid enough to try their luck that tonight was definitely not the night. Perhaps it was that Fenris had already cleared the way when Aveline had sent him ahead.
Whatever the reason, it was something Hawke was immensely grateful for. She fought the urge to break into a run when the still small figure of Isabella came into view, apparently waiting for their arrival. The only thing that stopped her was, in fact, the slouching elf that stood by her side, his white hair almost luminous in the torch light. Her stomach lurched, it wasn't as hard as it had been the first few times, but it still set her on edge when they were together.
He turned his eyes to take her in as the trio approached; her cheeks burned a little when she realised his gaze lingered with her a moment before he shifted. She hastily turned her attention to the Rivaini, who although sported a few shallow cuts and bruises, seemed none to worse for wear… But that had to mean…
"Where's Merril?" She demanded, almost in an accusatory tone.
The pirate's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Thank you, Hawke, I'm fine…" Came the sarcastic response.
"Well she can see that much by looking at you, idiot." Aveline bit back.
Hawke pursed her lips, and looked to Varric for assistance.
He gave her a nod of understanding. "Look Rivaini, what we mean is we're glad you're ok… but if you're fine then where is Daisy?"
"Anders is working on her." Her voice was soft, and Hawke was certain she could hear guilt in her tone, and see regret etched across her features.
It made Hawke take pause. The elven mage meant a lot to the rogue, this couldn't be easy for her. Maker! She knew how she felt whenever anything happened…
"What happened, Isabella?" She asked softly. "How bad is it?"
The pirate shrugged. "It's not as bad as you think. I just needed to get outside for a bit."
"That's normally Fenris' line," Varric cut in. The elf scowled at him.
Isabella's eyes closed before she continued. She sucked in a breath and let it go slowly. If Hawke didn't know better, she would have thought her friend close to tears. "It's me she took the hit for. I didn't even know she was anywhere near me until… it's like she just appeared and threw herself in the way…"
"That's not your fault, Isabella," Hawke assured, "she's done that to me a few times, I think it's a spell that she…"
"I don't care what it was." The rogue growled. "I told her I would keep her safe and I didn't."
"Come on, Rivaini," Varric offered. "Enough of the guilt trip! You got her back safe. You killed whatever bastard did this, didn't you…?" She replied with silence and a strained look. "Of course you did." He finished for her. "So what say we go and see how Daisy's doing?"
Isabella nodded her response, yet Aveline seemed to pay little heed to such details, and was already banging at the door with her armoured fist.
There was the sound of shuffling before the door creaked open, revealing a rather worn out looking Anders. He blinked a few times as if in surprise.
"What's the matter, Blondie? Expecting someone else?" Varric quipped.
"Not at all, I'm just not used to any of you knocking." He smirked before looking to Hawke. "Stop looking so worried. Come in, Merril's been asking for you all."
"Even me…?" Fenris queried sceptically.
"No one asks for you…" Came the curt response as Anders turned to disappear into the room.
Hawke followed, the rest of the party filing into the room behind her.
Merill lay on one of Anders' makeshift beds, impossibly even paler than usual. A warm blanket draped over her thin frame, a small, happy smile spread thinly across her lips. Her shaking arm outstretched to welcome her friends. Hawke took her hand and smiled gratefully at the mage.
"You gave us quite the scare, Daisy."
"How are you feeling, Kitten?" Isabella was swift to follow, concern plain to see across her face.
"I told you, Isabela, I'm fine."
"That bastard won't be when I catch up to him… he will rue the day…" The rogue growled venomously.
"Now just hold on there, Rivaini," Varric interrupted, "You mean the son-of-a-bitch isn't dead? Anders my friend, I think we just found you a new patient."
The healer gestured around the mostly empty beds. "I'm afraid I'm a little busy to be taking on more workload, Varric. However, if you'd like to take her temperature I'd be happy to find you a box to stand on."
Isabella gave them both a look stern enough even to silence the dwarf before replying. "I never said I'd killed him, did I? Kitten went down, I had other priorities… and we were outnumbered…"
"Which leads me to ask…" Aveline cut in, "what were you two up to? I know that you've not left the city…"
"And how do you know that, exactly?" The rogue barked.
"I keep my eye on you all… after all, prevention is better than cure… and some of you," her eyes fell to the dwarf who suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor, "require more damage control than others…"
"Like when he doesn't pay his tabs…" Hawke agreed.
"Or when he tries to tell Seneschal Bran that I have cleared all of the shipments he imported and I have personally vouched that the contents were sound…"
"There was nothing wrong with those crates!"
"Nothing except they were so full of forged documents every refugee in Kirkwall could have had a new identity by the next day!"
"But the crates were perfectly sound!" He smirked, nudging Merril in the arm and earning a cheery smile from her. "Besides, my dear Guard Captain, I would have thought you most sympathetic to the plight of those poor…"
"Don't change the subject! Where were you two? A force of this number and of this level of aggression must be reported to the Guard. We need to bring them to heel as swiftly as possible."
"Indeed." Anders chimed in. "Then perhaps you can all go home and let me sleep. And we should probably sort this out before Aveline's skin colour starts matching her hair, because I don't think I have a potion to fix that..."
Isabella grunted, looking to Merril, the apology all but etched into every wrinkle of worry. "We have to tell them, Isabella. Before Sebastian finds out like we did…" Merril gave a nod. "We've fought them before," the elf told the group, "but I've never seen so many of them…"
"Who are they, Merril?"
"The Flint Company." Isabella answered for her. "I overheard some old sod on about a passage way in one of the old bandit headquarters… I forget what they were called now… and he was saying that before their demise at our own fair hands, they were protecting a stone beneath the ground. Well, of course we expected maybe a few rats, but it seemed so tragic to leave something so shiny all alone in the dark. But they were waiting for us... almost like they were expecting someone all along…"
Hawke's breath hitched and Aveline cursed. "A trap. And I think we can guess who for…"
"Yeah… good job Choir Boy's too posh for the likes of Lowtown…" The dwarf chuckled.
Isabella smirked drily. "Too snooty, more like."
"But it stands to reason that they will not just lay the bait in obvious places." Fenris pointed out, his brow furrowed in thought. "If nothing else, Danarius has taught me that much. We should find him, Hawke. To be forewarned is to have the advantage."
"That sounds like the best plan, Elf." The merchant agreed. "Let me send out the word, I'll get the story before you know it. Then we can find each and every one that got away and make them sorry they crossed us. No one hurts Daisy and gets away with it." He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"And I'll see to it that patrols are doubled between Darktown and Lowtown. I'll not see any civilians being put at risk by cutthroats." Aveline turned on her heel and marched out of the door before Hawke could call out after her. Varric made good on his plans and left immediately for the Hanged Man. Isabella wanted to stay with Merril, Anders needed to sleep and soon… almost as if it had been set up, Hawke and Fenris found themselves outside the clinic with only one another for company.
Apparently they both seemed as eager as one another to avoid their gazes meeting. "So…" Hawke began nervously.
"So…"
Hawke could feel the blush spread across her cheeks. "Your hair looks good, have you done something with it?"
"Washed it." Came the curt reply.
Her cheeks all but burned. Maker! He knew how to make things difficult!
"Brilliant. On with the sarcasm already…"
He blinked. "To be honest, I'm not sure what other answer you expected."
"Well… now that that's all sorted and you're not making this awkward at all… maybe we should just get this over with…" She went to walk on ahead - it was quite a way to the Chantry, after all - but he called for her to stop.
"Hawke." She turned to face him. "I'm sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable. It is never my intention to cause you distress."
She sighed, a sigh of frustration more than sadness. "You don't make me feel 'uncomfortable', Fenris, you make me feel confused."
To her immense surprise, she thought she saw a smirk grace his face in the shadows. "It seems that is a gift we share. But come, this is not something we should delay, if there is talk to be had we should have it on the way…"