"Apples! Fresh apples, direct from the orchards of Highever! The finest in Ferelden, none better to be found!"
"I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade,
For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light."
"Fish, fish, salt fish from Gwaren!"
"Leather goods! Dalish, Marcher, Antivan, and more! If we don't have it, no nation makes it!"
The cacophony of the Denerim marketplace and the criers for the different stalls echoed around Marian and her parents. Wide-eyed, the young girl tried to take in everything. Their village, so small it wasn't on the map between Denerim and Dragon's Peak, didn't have anything like the crowded market.
The Chantry dominated the north end, its spire visible over all the buildings and the center square. Nobles on horseback headed for the tavern, and merchants rubbed shoulders with runners both human and elven, scurrying to and fro with messages and goods. Mumma and Papa walked on either side of Marian, keeping a tight grip on her hands so she wouldn't get lost or trampled underfoot. Her black curls bounced as she whipped her head from side to side, gasping at glimpsing a dwarf, her very first, with curious delight. Leaning towards the dwarf, Marian tried to peer around her father's legs for a better look.
"Stop pulling, Marian. We can do more sightseeing after your father is done with his business here."
"Let her be, Leandra, it's the first time Marian's seen anything like this."
Her mother let out a soft huff, and Marian went back to trying to see everything at once. Mumma and Papa hadn't said why they were going to Denerim, but it was very exciting for her to come along. She was finally big enough to join them on a trip and not be left back in their village with one of the other families for the week. Entering through the city gates had been breathtaking. She could see easily from one end of the main road through the village to the other, and here it wasn't even possible to see the tops of some of the buildings!
They passed through the market, to the east end where the inn for the merchants and other non-nobles passing through could find a room for the night. Clinging to Mumma's skirts, Marian peered around the main room, the dark barely illuminated by the smoky lamps overhead. Papa could easily light the whole place by himself, like he did with the candles at home.
Papa got the key for a room, and he picked her up to climb the stairs. "How's my little Hawkeling doing, hmm?"
"Well, Papa." Marian tried to stop a yawn, but it still squeaked out of her.
He laughed and said, "It looks like it's naptime, little one."
Marian stuck her lower lip out in a pout, but didn't argue. Turning to her Mumma at the door of their room, Papa said, "Leandra, take the money pouch and get yourself some of that lace you like, and some food from the market."
Mumma's eyes lit up at the mention of the lace. All the pillows on Mumma and Papa's bed were trimmed with it, and she had said when they left the village she hoped to get some to trim their quilt. "Are you sure you can handle Marian without me, dear?"
"Of course, love."
Entering their room, Papa slung off the pack hanging from his shoulder, and after pulling back the curtain that separated the 'bedroom' section from the main room, inspected the bed as he held Marian.
"Well, little lady, it's not your trundle, but it'll do, eh?"
She nodded sleepily, and was asleep before he finished tucking her in.
The soft murmur of voices woke Marian. Mumma and Papa, and one she didn't know.
"Would you like more tea, Ser?"
"Just one more moment, Ser Otto, and I'll be done."
"Thank you, Hawke, Mistress Hawke, you have been most kind."
Climbing off the bed, making sure she was quiet as she could be, she crept to the curtain and peered past it to the table and chairs in the main room. There was a man sitting at the table with Papa and Mumma, and Marian was surprised to see an elven woman sitting next to the strange man. She stuffed her fingers against her mouth when she saw the terrible marks on the man's face, burns surrounding his eyes and stretching across his temples and the top of his head, which was shorn clean.
Papa was running his hands along the man's torso, like he did when he was checking Marian for hurts when she fell down. The green glow emanating from them faded.
"I've done what I can, Ser Otto. The scars will fade in time, but I'm afraid that there's no more I can do for your eyes. I'm surprised you trust an apostate, after what was done to you."
"From what I understand, Hawke, Leorah here knew you in Kirkwall before being sent to the Circle here in Ferelden. You have a mutual friend back in the Gallows, and he vouched for you."
"You're not going to turn Malcolm in, are you Ser Otto?" The elven woman, Leorah, spoke up, worry crossing her face.
"No. As our friend put it, rule does not serve by caging he best of us. I'd not deprive the alienage here of the only mage healer they can afford, either."
Leorah nodded, "Malcolm has always been a friend to elves, no matter where he is."
"My Malcolm is a good man. Every difficulty has been worth it." Mumma's voice was firm, like she had to convince Leorah and the man, Ser Otto, that Marian's Papa was good.
Leorah sat forward, "I'm sure your little girl will be just as good as you, Malcolm. I just hope she doesn't face the same… difficulties… that you and I have."
Papa's face pinched with worry, "There have been no signs, Maker be praised. I've done my best to start teaching her to treat the family of elves in our village as well as she would anyone else. I'll never forget that you befriended me when I was all alone, a new apprentice in Kirkwall who missed his family terribly."
Ser Otto reached out carefully, grasping Papa's arm. "I will pray for you, Malcolm Hawke, Mistress Hawke."
"Thank you, Ser Otto," Mumma rested her hands on Papa's shoulders, looking proud and worried at the same time.
Marian snuck back to the bed. She wanted to be good like her Papa. Determined, she vowed that she would be friends with Merri and Sayern, the children of the elves that lived in their village. The other children were mean and called them names, and tried to twist their long, pretty ears. She would help, and she would be good. Just like her Papa.