Disclaimer: Not mine and not making any money from it, which is really very sad when you think about it.
Haunted
Chapter 1
Hawke sighed dramatically. "And of course it has to be me because...?"
"You're a mage. You must know something about...weird shit," Varric pointed out, and damn if it wasn't hard to argue with that sort of logic.
"My father didn't exactly cover hauntings while we were hiding from Templars and running for our lives," Hawke protested, more out of reflex than anything else. She knew it was only a matter of time before she agreed. "I suppose if worst comes to worst we can always resort to smashing something. That usually makes our problems go away."
Varric chuckled. "Thanks, Hawke. I knew I could count on you."
And that was how Hawke, Varric and three of their companions ended up stood outside Bartrand's old house in the teeming rain just before nightfall.
"I assume you have a key?" Aveline asked tersely. Fat raindrops bounced noisily off her armour and escaped strands of ginger hair plastered themselves to her forehead. "You know, when I became Captain of the Guard I foolishly believed my list of crimes would decrease..."
"Breaking and entering is hardly a crime, Big Girl," Isabela replied. Aveline's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, presumably to explain to Isabela why she was wrong in so many ways and probably to call her a whore just for good measure.
"All right!" Hawke forestalled her. She'd already had quite enough of their bickering on the walk through Hightown. Aveline huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes. Varric, key?"
Rather than open the door himself, Varric handed the key over to Hawke with a wry grin. "Ladies and mages first," he said, with a gallant sweep of his hand towards the door.
"Such a gentleman," said Hawke. "Bianca is a lucky lady." Incidentally, Bianca was the only member of their party currently protected from the rain. As they'd been leaving the Hanged Man an hour earlier Varric had taken one look at the inclement weather and walked straight back to his room to retrieve some kind of covering for the weapon, all the time muttering darkly under his breath about rusty springs. The corner of her lip quirked upwards and she glanced at the other mage in their party.
"Oh, that's me too, right?" Merrill snapped to attention. "I mean...I am a mage and a girl too I suppose." At Isabela's raised eyebrow Merrill rushed on, "I know I am a mage and a girl. Definitely. No supposing. I've checked."
"Oh for the Maker's sake can we just can on with it!" Avelina snapped. "I would like to actually get home and get some sleep tonight."
"Ooh tetchy today, are we?" said Isabela, sidling up to the Guard Captain with a sly look on her face. "What's wrong, Big Girl? Frustrated at work? Or frustrated at home? Donnic not using his weapon properly?" Aveline's eyes narrowed. "Not brandishing his sword enough? Polishing his own blade instead of-"
"Door's open!" Hawke announced. Isabela shot her a disappointed look but thankfully closed her mouth. Hawke knew she'd probably pay for this later; Isabela didn't want to be here at all and depriving her of her favourite source of amusement that didn't involve being naked was a good way of getting herself punished somehow...and not in the good way. Something about vanishing ghost ships and pirates being superstitious had been Isabela's excuse. Hawke wasn't entirely paying attention though because well...it was right after Isabela's favourite source of amusement that did involve being naked.
Varric cleared his throat and Hawke's cheeks turned pink. Oops. Let her mind wander for a second there... and judging by the smirk on Isabela's face the woman somehow knew exactly what she was thinking about. It was like she had some kind of weird dirty thoughts sixth sense. Maybe that skill would come in handy with their ghost. Who could say?
She reached out for the door handle and beside her Merrill brought her staff forward, ready to cast protection spells at a moment's notice. She paused and then resolutely pushed the door swinging open and -
Nothing happened.
"Well that was anti-climactic," Isabela commented, pushing past Hawke and into the house.
Hawke and Varric exchanged a quick look before she shrugged her shoulders and followed the pirate inside, where Isabela was already wringing water out of her hair onto the dusty red carpet running through middle of the room.
"It's cleaner than the last time I saw it," Merrill said, closing the door behind her with a quiet click and plunging the room into darkness. "Oops. I'll just..." Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose as Merrill rattled the door handle. "Please don't be alarmed but I can't get the door open."
Varric chuckled at the same time as Aveline audibly groaned. "Don't worry, Daisy. This is how all the best ghost stories start."
"Next time we decide to go exploring let's pick a mansion with more windows, shall we?" Hawke remarked, reaching behind her to withdraw her staff. She tapped it sharply on the ground and the jagged blue crystal flared into life, casting a rather eerie glow around the room. "Wonderful. I was just thinking that this wasn't quite as creepy as I'd like it to be."
"At least it's dry in here," said Isabela as she threw an arm over an apologetic Merrill's shoulders. Then she grimaced and raised her free hand to pat her bandana. "Not that it matters anymore."
Truth be told they were all looking rather bedraggled.
"Let's just get this over with," said Aveline. Nobody dared argue.
Contrary to Merrill's assertion the mansion was not cleaner than it had been last time they'd been here and it now housed at least a third more spiders. House spiders though, Hawke was thankful to note. Not the dragon sized kind she'd run into on far too many occasions around Sundermount. The bloody things were a menace, dropping from the sky like rain. Giant, murderous, eight-legged rain. Give her the Coterie any day.
"I'll just go first then, shall I?"
"Said Hawke, ever the intrepid leader."
"Varric."
She shot Varric an annoyed glance but the dwarf was unrepentant. Then she sighed (because why bother fighting a losing battle) and began a slow walk down the hallway to the first door. If she remembered correctly it lead to the kitchen and if they were lucky Varric's buyers might have left something behind. She wasn't getting paid for this one and she damn well wanted a free meal out of it if it was an option. It wasn't an option, as it turned out.
They passed through the first two rooms without incident and unfortunately the mansion was just as dusty and dilapidated as Hawke remembered. Her nose twitched at the smell of disuse, growing stronger the further into the house they got. It was stuffy and cloying and claustrophobic. The sooner they could get out of this place the happier she'd be.
"The things I do for you, Varric," Hawke lamented once they reached the main corridor that ran around most of the house. The very long corridor. It took Hawke a moment to realise that Varric hadn't replied yet. Hadn't even looked at her. "Varric?" she questioned.
"Hm what?" said the dwarf. He tilted his head to one side with a slightly glazed look in his eyes, though in the rather dull light coming from her staff everybody's eyes shone rather oddly. "Sorry. I thought I heard something. Music."
"I don't hear anything," said Isabela. She looked to Hawke who frowned and shook her head in confirmation. The only thing she could hear is their own footsteps across the old floorboards.
"That's hardly surprising given you'd have to shut your mouth for three seconds to hear anything beyond the sound of your own voice," said Aveline. And here we go again.
"Or maybe the gratuitous layers of steel protecting your sad virtue were grating together so loudly it distracted me?" Isabela shot back.
Aveline let out a humourless laugh. "The slattern using the word gratuitous to describe anything but herself?"
"Perhaps this little excursion would go a little quicker if we split up," said Hawke.
A dusty sort of heaviness hung in the air making Varric reluctant to make a sound as he, Isabela and Merrill crept down the hallway and yet no matter how lightly he tread the floorboards groaned ominously beneath his feet. He licked his lips and reached backwards over his shoulder just once to make certain Bianca was still exactly where she should be because haunted or not this place was giving him the creeps. Maybe it was just the slow but noticeable drop in temperature as they got further into the house that was setting him on edge. Whatever it was his companions seemed to be feeling the effects themselves if the way Isabela's eyes darted furtively around the room like she was just waiting for someone...or something...to jump out at them from the flickering shadows was anything to go by.
A loud crash sounded from somewhere behind them. A door slammed shut.
"Just the wind," said Varric, unconvincing even to his own ears. His breathing sped up and he politely ignored the way Isabela had jumped at the sound.
"I'd very much like to go home now," said Merrill, her fingers twitching uselessly around the wooden staff clutched in her hand. "I don't think this house is haunted. Do you think this house is haunted? We should leave. The rats are probably missing me."
"Calm down, Kitten. It's probably a spirit playing tricks on us. We just need to find it so you and Hawke can throw a bit of magic around and then we'll be out of here in no time," said Isabela. It was a valiant attempt that would have been more persuasive if the woman's voice hadn't wavered as she spoke. If Varric didn't know better he'd say the pirate was unnerved and he wasn't sure if that thought made him feel better or worse about his own rapidly beating heart.
Merrill didn't respond and instead drew a little closer to Isabela; whether for comfort or protection though Varric wasn't sure. Either way he could hardly blame her considering the circumstances. He'd feel a lot better himself if Hawke and Aveline were still with them because if nothing else their esteemed Captain of the Guard was very good at taking hits meant for her comrades and her absolute dismissal of the possibility of a ghostly enterprise did wonders for his own nerves. If only that damn music would stop playing he was sure he'd fare better. It was somewhere out of reach but just close enough to tickle at the back of his skull like an itch that just wouldn't go away.
They came to another room and stopped. Varric glanced back at his companions and then reached forward to gently brush cobwebs away from the door handle, grimacing as the sticky white string clung to his fingers. He took a step forward to push open the door, but froze when the wood jumped away from his hand, swinging open with a loud groan.
"Uh..."
"Well that was a little unsettling," Isabela commented. She ushered Merrill forward, who reluctantly followed the implied orders with her staff held high.
Yellow light filtered into the room and Varric took up the rear, following the elf and the pirate over the threshold. The hairs on his arms began to prickle as a flood of chilled air surrounded him as though he'd been dropped into the Waking Sea. He breathed out and tried not to react to the puff of white fog that came from his mouth. Houses got this cold all the time. It was perfectly normal.
"Why are there so many of these creepy masks?" Merrill asked, wandering over to the corner of the room where no fewer than four Tevinter masks rested against the wall. "I wouldn't even want a single one...with their creepy, staring eyes. They look like they want something but I don't know what it is so I can't give it to them."
"They aren't exactly my cup of tea either," said Varric, eyes drifting over to a stack of old paintings. He moved over to them, picking his way through the broken shards of glass and debris littered around the floor.
"If you hung one outside your house it might scare away burglars," Isabela suggested.
Merrill looked thoughtful for a moment before her body shuddered with obvious disgust. "No, thank you. What if it scared me away too?"
"You've got me there," said Isabela, though it was clear she was no longer paying attention. Her head whipped around suddenly towards the door. "Did you hear that?"
Varric froze. "Hear what?"
"I don't hear anything," said Merrill, nervously.
"Ooh, I was afraid you were going to say that." Isabela kept her tone light but Varric could hear the tremble just beneath it. Before they'd left the Hanged Man the woman had put up a fuss about leaving; he just assumed it was out of laziness and he wasn't at all surprised when Hawke had coaxed her into joining them with the promise of her choice of entertainment for later that evening. Now, though, Varric was beginning to suspect there had been more to Isabela's reticence than just disinterest in the task. He hadn't seen her this wary since the day they'd finally tracked down the Qunari relic.
"What did you hear?" asked Merrill.
"Nothing." Varric looked at her sceptically and she put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Can we move on now? We've been here so long I feel I'm about to die of old age."
"So," said Hawke, glancing sideways at her grouchy companion as they traversed the dark hallway. "You appear to be in a particularly delightful mood this evening."
"Don't you start as well," Aveline warned. "I've had quite enough of this from the pirate whore."
Hawke shrugged her shoulders. "Very well. Keep your secrets. I was just curious as to why you chose to spend your night off traipsing around this rotten old house instead of catching up on your beauty sleep at home."
Aveline sighed and looked away. "Donnic's mother is in town."
Of all the responses Hawke had been expecting, that one definitely rested somewhere near the bottom of the list. "Donnic's mother?"
Hawke remembered both of Donnic's parents from Aveline's wedding. His father had been a small, kindly man with intelligent brown eyes just like his son's, Maker rest his soul. His mother however...well if Hawke was honest she'd spent half the wedding specifically avoiding the woman. She'd had that look in her eye, the one her own mother used to get when she was about to give somebody a stern telling off. Hakwe wasn't sure what crime she'd committed that had earned the woman's ire but she hadn't wanted to hang around to find out. She had watched from afar, however, and from what she could tell the woman was smart, strong and full of opinions. Reminded Hakwe a little of Aveline actually...which of course was a notion she had kept firmly to herself.
"Not just in town, actually. Staying in our home," Aveline continued.
Hawke nodded slowly as she processed this new information. "And that's a bad thing, I take it?"
"Yes," said Aveline. She ran a hand over her hair. "I mean no. Of course Donnic's mother is welcome to stay with us as often and for as long as she'd like."
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming on..."
"But if I have to hear one more crack about my ability to bear children at my age and with my high risk and irresponsible job I'm going to stab something!"
Hawke's eyes widened. "Oh."
A strong gust of wind blew through the corridor, ruffling Varric's coat and rattling the odds and ends that still stood upright on side tables or against the walls. The ceiling above them creaked noisily as though something very large and very heavy moved above them.
"Probably just Aveline," said Isabela, though her hands twitched in the direction of her knives. "She's put on a few pounds since settling into her role as housewife."
"Has she?" Merrill asked absently. "I haven't noticed. It's hard to tell underneath all that armour."
The ceiling groaned again and Varric swallowed. "Well whatever it is I don't want to be here when it falls through the floor. Let's keep moving."
"Yes. Oh," Aveline ground out through gritted teeth.
"Well that's...not ideal," said Hawke. She was honestly surprised Donnic's mother was still in the land of the living after daring to suggest Aveline leave her precious guards in favour of popping out wailing babies. "What does Donnic have to say about this?"
"That's just it! He doesn't say a damn word," said Aveline. "That wily old bitch makes sure to keep her sly digs for when he's not around to hear them. When he's with us it never even comes up beyond the odd wistful comment about one day wanting grandchildren."
"I can see how that might...rub you the wrong way," Hawke said with a nod. They reached another door and Hawke pushed on it. Locked. They carried on walking. "What are you going to do?"
"I know what I'd like to do," Aveline grumbled.
"Now, now, Aveline," said Hawke with a grin, "Donnic would probably be most put out if you threw his mother from the top of Sundermount."
Aveline let out a humourless laugh. "Don't tempt me, Hawke. It's hard enough to refrain from violence as it is."
"How much longer is she staying?" asked Hawke.
"Maker only knows," said Aveline with a huff. "It wouldn't be too bad if I knew an end was in sight but I can hardly ask. I already told Donnic his mother was welcome to stay with us for as long as she needed to. Rookie mistake."
Hawke couldn't help but agree.
It was a small library, Varric deduced. One that clearly hadn't been touched since the dawn of time if the inch of dust coating every single book and cloying musty smell was anything to go by. He turned around to suggest they skip this room but stopped at the look on Isabela's face. Internally, he sighed, because really what could possibly be wrong this time? Then he followed the woman's gaze to a stack of leather-bound books. Leather-bound books that were not resting on the table like they should have been. Well, shit.
"Merrill," said Isabela, in a voice somewhat higher than her normal one. "Please tell me you're making those books float."
Merrill wrung her hands together nervously. "I would really like to but Hawke doesn't like it when I lie."
The books hung in the air and spun slowly as though dangling from an invisible string. The music in Varric's head got louder. He could almost make out a tune now.
Then they dropped to the table with a loud thud, slipping and then scattering haphazardly on the floor. Varric held back a muffled curse.
"Right well I think we're done with this room!" said Isabela. Before Varric could agree, dark, calloused fingers gripped at his shoulder and began to pull both he and Merrill quickly towards the door.
"This may be a stupid question," Hawke began, "but have you thought about talking to Donnic about all this?"
"And say what? 'Your mother keeps following me around the house and clucking her tongue like an angry hen every time she sees my armour'? When I say it out loud it sounds like I'm throwing a petty tantrum!" said Aveline.
"This clucking...are you sure it's from disapproval? It could well be Donnic's mother has contracted some kind of medical condition. Have you spoken to Anders about it?" Hawke suggested. She managed to keep her expression serious even when Aveline turned to glare at her.
"You aren't nearly as funny as you think you are."
Varric drew in a heavy breath. They hadn't quite run from the menacing books, but they had taken a very brisk walk in the opposite direction with as much haste as was sensible. He shifted his shoulders to accentuate the comforting weight of Bianca at his back, though he wasn't sure how much good his trusty crossbow would be against incorporeal villains levitating furniture around.
"Do you think we got away?" asked Merrill. "It could have followed us and we wouldn't even know. Do you think we should go and find Hawke? Maybe she and Aveline have found something."
"A good idea, Daisy," said Varric. He glanced at Isabela, who nodded. "Hawke is probably already half way through killing whatever Fade monstrosity is causing all this trouble by now."
"Yes. She might need our help," Merrill agreed, looking relieved. "Okay. You can let go of my hand now, Isabela."
There was a short pause in which the corners of Isabela's mouth dropped into an uncomfortable frown. She slowly lifted up her arms and held out her hands. "Uh...Merrill. I'm not touching you."
Hawke was saved from having to deal with Aveline's ire as they arrived outside the door of the next room they were taxed with checking. It was already open a fraction so Hawke pushed it with her staff. And -
Nothing. Again.
"You know, I'm beginning to have serious doubts about this whole haunting business," said Hawke.
Then the screaming started.
Author's Note(s): So this re-telling of the Act 3 quest 'Haunted' is my attempt at writing something vaguely spooky leading up to Halloween. The plan is to release a chapter every Sunday from now until the 30th (might not always happen but that's my goal).