The sound of men shouting filled the air that, in turn, filled the sails, pushing the huge behemoth of a ship closer to Denerim. The elf sat with her legs dangling over the fore topgallant; watching as the first sight of land peeked over the horizon.
This was her favorite part; as much as she loved the feeling of the sea wind in her hair and the freedom that the ocean promised, there was nothing quite like slipping into a crowd of people who were completely oblivious of her and who she was. She could just disappear under a cloak and wander for hours, learning everything without being known.
"Gwenhwyfar!" She ignored the shout and continued to stare at the ever growing shore as her brother climbed toward her. "The captain's looking for you." He told her between heavy breaths. He wasn't as used to the physical exertion of climbing as she was; he rarely did any kind of 'work' and blamed it on the fact that he was a mage.
"I'm surprised you didn't just send Jack to look for me on his own." She raised an eyebrow at him and he leaned hard against the foremast, wanting to tell her off, but not having the breath to do it. "Can I go ashore?" She looked at him a little more respectfully, hoping that he would allow it.
"I don't know." He perched beside her, holding onto the mast for balance and looking down at the long drop below. "Denerim is a big city; I wouldn't want to lose you."
"You know that incident in Val Royeaux was an accident!" She pleaded defensively. "I never would have been captured on purpose!"
"I know. I know." He raked his fingers through his raven dark locks and she glanced down at her own snow white braid hanging over her shoulder. The only color left were the streaks of lavender and cobalt that somehow refused to assimilate.
"I promise I won't get into any trouble!" She said softly.
"You're still so young mea soror carissima dulcis…" He started to put his hand on her shoulder but she pushed him away and stood up, shrugging off his attempt to comfort her with half hearted Tevinter endearments.
"Of course Max, whatever you say my dear brother." She mocked him before jumping away from the boom and catching a bit of rigging to slide down to the deck. She was sure her brother meant well; he had, after all, given up unspeakable power to rescue her from the Tevinter Imperium, but she wondered sometimes if he still thought of her as a slave.
"Jenny!" The captain put his arm around her shoulder as she stepped in beside him. "There it is! Denerim!"
"The capital of Ferelden." She spouted off the only real fact she knew about the city.
"It is nothing so exciting as Val Royeaux and not nearly as entertaining as Llomerryn, but I am sure you will find something to fill your time when we go ashore." He cast a sideways glance her way. "Or someone."
"Max said I wasn't to go ashore." She told him despondently.
"What?" He sounded absolutely outraged.
"He just doesn't want me to get into trouble." She defended her brother, but the bitter resentment of his latest oppressive act still left a bad taste in her mouth.
"You are trouble, poppet." He tugged on her braid. "No matter where you go you're going to wind up stepping in it, like dog shite in Ferelden."
She scrunched up her nose at him. "Do I want to go then?"
He just laughed at her. "Ah, my young poppet! There are many things out there worth dodging mabari shit for."
"You aren't encouraging her, I hope." Max's voice rang over Jack's laughter as he walked towards where we stood at the bow.
"Young Max!" The captain waved him over. "Your sister tells me that you've forbidden her to into the city."
"She doesn't do well around so many people." He explained. "I think maybe when we sail to Gwaren…"
"But that could take months!" She groaned, turning to stalk away; but Jack caught her arm and swung her back around.
"I can watch her if you wish to be alone, Maximilian." He drawled and smiled contemptuously at the young elven mage.
"It isn't like that and you know it!" Max could feel the pulsing heat start to radiate from his palms as he took a menacing step closer toward the older man.
"Enough!" Gwenhwyfar stepped in between them and held her hands up, allowing the blue serpentine markings on her skin to show as they glowed bright in her anger.
Max grabbed her hands, letting the magic in his fall silent. "This is exactly what I am talking about!" He threw her hands back at her but he continued to speak softly, if not harshly. "You cannot stand even the slightest injustice, and any offense causes this." He gestured at her still glowing form.
"And why shouldn't I get angry?" She cried. "I didn't choose this! The only thing I can do is to help those who can't help themselves!"
"Says the girl who thieves for her supper!" Her brother called back, feeling his hands begin to burn again.
"I steal from those who can afford it!" They were standing nose to nose now, Gwenhwyfar lifting herself up on her toes so that she could glare at him face to face. "And don't talk like you don't steal right along with me! At least I don't offer myself as severance for what I take!"
"As if you wouldn't if you weren't afraid to let a man touch you." He said in that damned soft voice he used when he thought he won.
She couldn't stand it! He knew how much that hurt, where those wounds had come from and that they might never quite heal. She watched, almost as if it were someone else, as she phased her hand into his chest and grabbed onto whatever he held inside.
He gasped, but she let her hand linger there, deliberating with herself as to whether he needed any of the squishy parts she'd grabbed onto.
Finally, she let go and pulled her hand out. Max let out a whoosh of air as he stumbled back away from her. His sister had never resorted to physical violence against him and he was dumbfounded at how powerful she actually was; he doubted there was anything he could have done to stop her once she had her hand in his chest.
"Do not speak of it so lightly." She took a step closer to him as he moved uneasily backward. "You have no idea what it was like, what it is like, to be worth nothing!"
"No one here thinks that, poppet." Jack said softly as he put a hand on her shoulder. She turned on him with her skin still ablaze with blue light; he left his hand on her shoulder and looked steadily into her eyes. "I know you are worth something; more than any other lout on my crew, even."
The sincerity in his voice brought tears to her eyes and she calmed down, feeling herself stagger as the lyrium glow dimmed and took its strength with it. After a few breaths and a long silence she turned to Max and held out her hand, this time in reconciliation.
"Do not do that again." He told her as he took it.
Her eyes narrowed at him. "Do not think that you can tell me what to do so easily anymore." She shook his hand once before turning and facing Denerim's port once again.
"It sounds like she's finally escaped slavery after all." Jack said as he walked off to start shouting orders at the rest of the crew, leaving Max to stare at his sister's back for a long moment before leaving her there on her own.
The port was bustling with the usual runners shipping cargo from one place to the next that you could see at any dock in Thedas. Jack pointed out several men he knew from past escapades and greeted them in turn, but Gwenhwyfar's attention was on the citadel that seemed to tower over the whole city.
"What is that?" She asked, nearly running into a porter in her awe.
"Sorry mate!" He muttered at the disgruntled man before turning his attention back to her. "That's Fort Drakon, poppet. Built by your people, I believe, back when all this was still a part of the Imperium."
"It feels…" She searched for the words, shivering in the bright sunlight. "Cold. Cold and dark. I don't like it."
"What's to like?" He pulled her out of the way of another cart and walked her over to a building that sounded as if it were bursting at the rafters. "It's a prison, and not the temporary kind. They only put you there if they want to forget about you, or so I hear." He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled again. "This, however, my little poppet, is somewhere I wouldn't mind being thrown into and forgotten."
"What is this place then, Jack?" She laughed at his enthusiasm as he led her through the door. She instantly realized that she needn't have asked.
"This, my girl, is the Pearl. The only place worth stopping at in Ferelden." He led her over to a table in one of the many dark corners and ordered a couple of drinks from the serving girl as she swayed by. "Might I interest you in some of their fine wares?" He gestured around the room at the men and women posing provocatively in their scanty bits of clothing.
Gwenhwyfar gulped in a few shallow breaths before looking back up at her friend. "You brought me to a…but…no!" Was all she could manage to say.
"Look, you're going to have to get over what's ailing you sooner or later, poppet." He said in an understanding, fatherly tone, despite the fact that there was nothing fatherly about what he was suggesting. "I just think you'd enjoy life a bit more if it were sooner." He ended with a big smile as the serving girl brought us our drinks.
"I don't want to pay for sex, Jack!" She sputtered incredulously.
"Well good, because I'm not charging." The sultry voice of a woman dripped over them like honey and Gwenhwyfar looked up to see a Rivaini with a body to fit standing right over her. She was dark, like all of her people, with most of what she had- and it was quite a bit- flowing out of her shirt, which happened to be the only thing she was wearing besides her knee high boots. "Hello Jack!" She smiled amiably.
"Ah, Isabella! It's good to see you." Jack waved for his friend to scoot over, but Isabella didn't wait and plopped herself right in the little elf's lap. "That is Gwenhwyfar, my right hand man, you're sitting on there." He chuckled as his mentioned 'man' turned bright red in the face. "I call her Jenny though; Gwenhwyfar's got too many syllables for my liking."
"Oh, you think so?" She turned to look at her. "I don't know, I think I'd have to give it a couple of go's to be sure. What do you say?" She asked, winking as she rubbed her bottom in circles around the elf's lap.
"I…ah…I don't think…"
"Little poppet here is a virgin." Jack grinned, enjoying everything about the scene unfolding in front of him.
"Hmm…" Isabella said thoughtfully. "I don't usually like virgins…but you…what are all of those tattoos?" She asked, looking her prey over as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to eat it or not.
"They aren't tattoos." Gwenhwyfar finally managed to say. "They're lyrium."
"Lyrium? Really? What do they do?"
"You don't want to know." She said dryly before depositing Isabella into the empty space on the bench beside her and getting up to leave. "I'll meet you back on the Deceit."
"Alright, poppet." Jack laughed with a shake of his head.
She opened the door to leave the brothel to find Max standing on the other side of it. They both flushed deep scarlet before Max's face contorted in a kind of surprised anger. "You didn't?"
"No! Maker no!" She stuttered, not that it mattered. If she wanted to pay to have strangers fondle her, she was free to do so. "I had a drink and just left Jack in there with a very overpowering Rivaini woman." She assured him. "You'd like her, I think."
"Just… just get out of here… all I want to do is unknow the fact that I ever saw you here." He said as he pushed his way past her.
"I know exactly what you mean." The door slammed behind her and she looked out at the people milling about. Pulling her hood over her head, she stepped out to join them; letting herself get lost in the crowd.
After about an hour, she found herself in the market district looking at a fine new lute to replace the weatherworn one she'd left on the ship. She had picked it up in Orlais, and even then it had seen better days, but the music helped to chase the pain away so she'd fallen in love with it.
She had just paid the merchant for the lute when yet another Rivaini caught her attention. 'What the bloody hell were all of these Rivaini doing in Ferelden?' She thought, slinking into the shadows to get a better look at him.
He was an older man, tall with the telltale dusky skin of Rivain; he had shaped his full beard to fit the squareness of his jaw and his long hair was pulled back into a neat queue at the nape of his neck. She could see from his trappings that he was a Gray Warden and someone high in rank if her intuition was worth anything. The thing about him that interested her the most, though, was the jangling of coins in the purse tied at his belt.
"Challenge accepted." She smiled to herself as she planned her next move. Using the darkness as a cover, she inched closer and closer until the pouch was just within her grasp when he turned around to call to someone else and almost toppled her over.
"I'm so sorry." He said as he steadied her. "I didn't see you there."
"Oh, no sir!" She took advantage of the fact that he seemed friendly. "I was just admiring your insignia. It isn't everyday you see a Grey Warden wandering through the streets."
He just laughed. "No, I guess it isn't." He looked over her shoulder at whoever he was going to say something to before and she took that moment to deftly relieve him of his heavy purse.
"Should I be afraid? Will an archdemon swoop down upon us any minute now?" She continued the line of conversation and he laughed again.
"I doubt you are in any immediate danger." He looked directly at her for the first time and his face betrayed his confusion. "Are you an apostate?"
"I'm sorry?" That was always the first assumption when people noticed her markings, that she must be a mage. Only mages dealt with lyrium right? Well, mages and templars… and she certainly wasn't a templar. "No sir, I am… I…" It was the first time that she'd faltered in conversation since Jack had trained her to steal; it wasn't a place she liked to be.
"Don't worry child, I'm not going to send you to the circle." His low steady voice calmed her down a little and she looked into his eyes once more.
"I'm not a mage." She said flatly. She could feel something else the longer they stood there talking. A darkness radiating from him; it was almost tangible, she could feel it scraping against her skin. If she wasn't careful, it would start to do a good deal more than that and she couldn't be in such a public place if it did.
"Of course." He said it as if it were fact. It was a fact, but most didn't believe her. There was no patronizing tone or stiffening as he looked for the nearest templar; he just looked into her eyes as if he was hoping to find something there.
She knew she should have just turned and walked away, but something she'd never felt before glued her to that spot beside him… what was that? A…sense of purpose?
She reluctantly held his purse up to him. "I believe you're missing about fifty sovereigns, twenty silvers and ninety one bits."
"Eighty three." He corrected, his eyebrows raised to his hairline; he didn't seem so much surprised as impressed, though.
"Are you sure?" She asked, weighing the bag in her palm. "Oh well it's yours, so the lack of coppers doesn't really affect me much, does it?"
"I didn't even feel you take it." Was all he said, still awed by her feat. "You have an amazing skill."
"Thieving?" She scoffed. "It keeps me alive, but it isn't something I usually show off."
"Well, I suppose it takes a thief to really appreciate your talent." He winked at her.
"They let criminals into the Grey Wardens? And here I thought you were someone important." She looked back over his trappings, wondering now if he had stolen them or something.
"Oh no." He laughed again as he shook his head. "No one important, I am only the Warden Commander here in Ferelden. It doesn't mean much."
"And you would allow me to join?" She asked hopefully, wondering if this was where her life had been leading all along; it certainly hadn't been an easy path.
"It isn't something you should choose lightly." He warned, but didn't look as if he was going to turn her away.
She looked him over, wondering if she could trust him with what she was about to say, but she figured that if a Gray Warden didn't understand then no one would. "I can feel the darkness on you." She said slowly. "I know where it comes from, I've felt it before."
"I thought you said you weren't a mage." He didn't sound shocked or accusing, but instead he leaned closer to her in interest.
"No. I'm not a mage." She shook her head. "I was a slave, just a slave, but my markings can sense the blackness in you. It gets stronger by the minute. It…it's like a song…calling for…something."
"A slave?" He asked, his voice turning harsh for the first time. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. She knew she was worth less than dirt, but for a moment, only a moment, she thought that this Gray Warden actually respected her. "I thought slavery was banned everywhere but…"
"But the Tevinter Imperium?" She finished for him. "I said I was a slave. I escaped four years ago."
"Good." There was a look on his face that I couldn't quite fathom. "I prefer not to kill to get my point across." He would have killed her master in order to have her in his faction? "I would be honored if you joined our order."
"You…you would be h-honored?" No one but Jack had ever spoken to her like that, she couldn't quite grasp it.
"If you so choose." He amended. "Like I said before, it is no easy path."
"I would be honored." She bowed her head and he lifted it so she had to look him in the eyes.
"You are no longer a slave." He said gently. "You would do well to remember it."
She stared at him for a long moment before he looked behind her once more and a woman's voice, dripping with disappointment, squeaked, "Duncan?"