[#1] of Astaarit Asaaranda [Rise Thunderstorm]
The missive came in the early hours of the morn with an unexpected armoured guard. She'd been in her room at the time, just on her way back out to the hallway after dressing when she heard Bodan's nervous call for her.
"My Lady Hawke." Lite reached the balcony overlooking the main room, her brows narrowed at his tone. "Ah, there you are, " he clasped his hands together in front of him, his shoulders lifted a little at the sight of her.
"What is it?" She asked, and started for the stairs. Lite wondered what had the dwarf so flustered. It certainly wasn't any of her companions otherwise she would have been able to hear the ruckus.
"It appears there is a message for you, my Lady." When she looked to her desk where they were usually piled, she raised an eyebrow at him when she found it was empty.
"O-out side," he pointed to the entrance, where a short room with benches met the front door. It was built for visitors to the Manor House. "A rather large man," the dwarf placed his hands in front of him again. "W-with a message. I believe it's quite urgent."
"Hm," Lite turned her white eyes gaze to the door. Sandal was in his usual corner, seemingly content and unfazed by the unannounced guest. Her mother was out, at a friends house - no doubt trying to arrange more damn suitors for her, or some other rubbish along those lines.
And if she returned with any more hideous gowns, she felt sure she'd throw them from the cities battlements or hand them out to the poor in Low town. She was sure they'd made some nice scarves, or curtains - as she certainly wouldn't be wearing them.
Lite found she would always be a Hawke. No matter if Lothering was no longer there, she still felt as if she were a Fereldan Farmer and not a noble Amell. Bethany would have enjoyed the lifestyle, and she experienced a slight twinge in her chest at the thought of her sister.
Carver was no better. Had he not been handed over to the Grey Wardens to save his life, he would have been more happier working in the city guard - doing work, and not sipping tea with some nobles in High Town.
But since he was no longer with them, that meant her Mother had been left with her. The one who couldn't save her younger siblings, was an apostate and couldn't control her temper even on the best of days.
She eyes the door to the entrance, her thoughts already set an dampener for the day. Unperturbed that the vistor would be a threat, she was quite certain her magic would hold against one guard and she would be able to protect the two dwarves who were the only others in the house. Her Mabari had found he liked it better in The Hanged Man, with Varric - she was inclined to agree with him.
Starting for the door, Bodan followed after with his shorter legs while ringing his hands nervously. She reached the door and pressed it open with her cool fingers, her head tilted through before the rest of her body followed.
A Qunari stood in her homes entrance. Her brows must have reached her dark hair line. The large ox stood bolt straight, his spear attached to his back and appeared to be staring at one of the pictures hanging on the wall. Her painting her Mother had purchased somewhere of a sand like plane, with crystal blue waters in the distance.
She cleared her throat lightly, as she took a step further into the room and crossed her arms behind her. Bodan remained in the doorway. The Qunari turned instantly at the sound, and if he was affected by her seeing his enquiry of her art, he didn't show it.
"A message for Serah Hawke,"he spoke far more quickly than she expected. Usually the Qunari she met liked to give her a hard state before they relinquished any words. Lite noticed that while he knew the Common tongue, his words were still heavily accented.
He was a infantry commander too. A rank close to the Arishok.
An imagine of the golden haired Arishok crossed her thoughts. Why was he asking after her now? She had been to the compound on a number of occasions, either at the behest of the Viscount or because she'd discovered something which linked the Qunari and wished to speak with their leader of it.
That stubborn brick wall of a man infuriated her. And the very fact that he could get under her skin so easily unsettled her, and so she avoided the compound by the docks as much as possible. Unless it was completely necessary to cross those guarded gates. She wasn't easily fazed, living with two siblings who hit below the belt and knew exactly which buttons to press. Being a Mage on the run also, meant it took a lot of digging to get to her. To make her feel.
She scowled slightly, "Is the Arishok in some sort of trouble?" She asked, after probably an overly long moment of silence.
The Karasten gave her a strange look, which was, as to be expected, unreadable to her. Had she just insulted him by saying that? Hawke could never be sure with the Qunari. Their culture seemed so simple, and yet it confused her entirely. Especially on how tolerant they were; some she had met had a slight humour, then there were those like the Arishok who were die hard and seemed to want to snap her neck in two.
From what she observed, they were one and yet there were many individuals at the same time.
"The Arishok wishes for your presence. Immediately." Well, there was no room for interpretation there. No invitation what-so-ever, a simple command and 'I expect you to follow'. Lite fought the urge to roll her eyes. Most people were like that with her nowadays.
Lite wondered how long her tolerance would last with it. Probably not that much longer, if her temper had anything to say about it.
But that day would not be the day. So instead she said, "I have to change. Tell the Arishok I will be there as soon as I am able."
She saw only the slightest of change in the Karasten's expression, a glint to the eye. And she was pretty sure she'd be the only one to see it as she appeared to be the only one in the city who looked at them, and spent as much time in their compound. He was obviously unhappy with her answer.
Lite resisted the urge to throw her arms up in the air and jest 'I'll just drop everything and come right this second, shall I?' Instead she kept her straight face and said, "Farwell." With a nod, she turned on her heels and stared for Bodan who looked white as a sheet.
The dwarf back peddled slightly to let her through, then looked at the door as she closed it behind her.
"He can show himself out," she explained, looking down at him. Then she started a brisk walk to the stairs and her bedroom.
She'd only just put her clothes on for the day, and she honestly didn't know why she bothered. It usually only took a few hours before there was some need for her armour. One day she might just end up sleeping in it.
Now that she thought about it, she often did when she stayed too late at the Hanged man, drank far too much to be able to walk and hijacked Varric's bed at the inn for the night. Much to his annoyance. Of course the Dwarf was also equally as gone, and so he refused to give up with bed which usually ended up in her jabbing him with one part of her metal armour or other as they fought for space.
When she was younger, her and her singlings would often sleep 'top and tail' in a shared bed in one of their two rooms. Both her brother and sister had found out that hard way that she kicked in her sleep - once Varric knew that, he refused to sleep anywhere near her armoured toes and would not relinquish his pillow either.
Clicking the last of the straps to her knee buckles and gauntlets, she readjusted the pointed plate on her shoulder and grabbed her bladed staff which stood by the door. Securing in the hooks at her back, Light closed her bedroom door behind her and again, made her way down the stairs.
She would forgo breakfast that morning. Would get the meeting with the Arishok over, then go and find something to eat. Which would much likely end up with her being caught by her companions and ushered into the Hanged man. They were always there on the free days they had.
"Should I call for Master Tethras or Master Fenris to meet you, Messere?" Bodan called, as he came from the door which led to the kitchens.
"No, Bodan. I'll be fine. They will probably find me at some point, anyway." He nodded his understanding but seemed worried knowing she was heading for the docks alone. "When Mother returns, tell her I will be back later."
"Of course, Messere," he nodded again, and watched her leave.
She shot a return smile at Sandal when she passed as he gave her his goofy looking grin. He was a few Priests short of a Chantry, but a good kid and incredible at enchantments.
Luckily, she didn't run into her Mother as she exited the Amell manor home and hurried down the stone steps to the gate. It would have been the twenty questions game if she was caught leaving the house in her armour, and weapon strapped to her back. Even if Leandra did blame her siblings death on her, she still worried for her oldest child.
Hawke clenched her jaw and spiked fist as she paused at the gate. She needed to stop with those thoughts. With a quick shake of her head to clear them away, Light grasped the white painted gate and slipped through.
It didn't take long to travel from High Town to the Docks. While many stopped to great her, or nod, she did little more than return the gesture before moving on. When one man caught her attention, and began ranting on about some sort of problem he had with her, she stopped him in his tracks by raising a hand and simply saying, "the Arishok awaits me."
That was all it took for him to scarper off. No doubt he didn't want to be the one responsible for making her late to see the leader of their Qunari friends. Lite felt her lips tug up in a smirk as she carried on towards the large steps she'd descended many times before.
The compound was directly to the left from there. The first time she'd been down there after the arrival of the Arishok and his men, she'd almost tripped over her own feet at the sight of the two guards outside the closed gates. She'd known they were there, but haven't never seen a Qunari before, it had been quite a shock. They were so large, with red paint all over them and let's us not forget the horns!
She greeted the two men at the door with a curt nod, and though they did not reciprocate, each outstretched an arm to push the wooden barrier open for her.
Lite only hesitated a moment. There had only been one other time when she'd entered alone, and even then the others had been waiting outside for her. Perhaps she was foolish to step inside the lions den alone - not only because she'd be surrounded, but because she was a Mage.
With a slight shrug to herself, she left her legs move and her booted feet hit the dirt of the inner compound. She watched over her shoulder as the two guards closed the gate behind her. She was only slightly nervous, but not enough that it would deter her. Turning up alone might solidify the message that while he sometimes infuriated her, she was not afraid of the seven foot giant who sat on his chair like it was a throne.
With another smirk at that image, she spun on her heels and headed for the corner which rounded to the area he spoke with people. She knew that beyond that point was where they had set up their tents, and where the bulk of the people he'd traveled with stayed hidden. They were private people, she found, and didn't like idiots looking on them with mouths gawking, ready to catch flies.
As soon as she stepped out from behind the wall, she felt the eyes on the Arishok on her. When she'd first felt it, it had boiled her temper - she didn't like anyone looking at her for prolonged minutes. Now she simply ignored it, knowing that it was just one of the many things he did which made her want to punch him.
She stopped short of the bottom of the big steps, as she always did. Qunari lined the walls beside her, and she raised her eyes to find the golden haired man in question was leant forward in his throne, his elbows on his knees in a gesture she had come to associate with him.
"Serah Hawke," he said, as he always started their conversations it seemed nowadays.
"Arishok," she intoned. She didn't like being anyone's lackey, at their beck and call, which meant she wasn't going to appear happy about his message.
He was silent then, and she had learnt to ride out those long moments where the Qunari stared. She did not shuffle, or move in nervous tells, she stood still and waiting for him to inform her on why it had been so urgent.
His fingers covered the bottom of his face for a moments, and then he appeared to have made up his mind about something. Preferable to tell her why he'd demanded her presence. If it was simply to show he could, she might have to start a war.
"Come," he gestured for her. "You will have tea with me."
Lite prided herself on being able to curve her expressions and keep a leash on her temper but that couldn't have been farther from what she expected. So much so that her careful mask slipped for a second, and her face must have been a picture, she was sure.
Many resorts came to her then, some of them being: Are you crazy? What? Why? Is this a joke? Have you suddenly developed a sense of humour by inhaling too much as that crap you guys make to poison people, and to piss me off?
"I will not ask again, Hawke." She refrained for informing him that he hadn't asked the first time either.
She blew out a breath, and decided her only options where to accept the crazy proposal or make a run for it. The latter would probably end with a spear in her back. She would bet her small clothes that the Qunari wouldn't take kind to her rejecting their leader.
Her left foot moved forward, and she felt entirely weird inside. Not in all the time they'd been there had she touched the steps, seen anyone other than Qunari touch them or come into close contact with the leader of their armies. Just as she was about to put her toe on the stone, one of his men stepped forward. She gave him a look, then remembered she still had her weapon on her back.
Now was one of those rare moments when she was glad for the curse of being a Mage. They could take her staff, but she could still protect herself. While the spells wouldn't be as strong, her lightening would still pack a punch. She reached around and unclicked it from the hooks. He laid his palms out, and upwards to accept it.
She wondered if he'd be uncomfortable at holding a staff. She had no delusions that the Arishok and his people didn't know exactly what she was, even if he'd never seen her in battle. The Qunai's face didn't change as the wood met his skin. Even as she watched his face closely.
"Look after it,"she told him, and realised it was the first time her weapon had been taken. She'd seen the two men at the bottom of the steps take others, but hers had never been removed. That struck her speechless, then she recovered. "My Asala," she added, in explanation. The staff was from her father, and she knew the Qunari valued their weapons above their lives, they were nothing without them. Asala meant soul, and she'd heard of it from the stories of the Sten who followed the Hero of Fereldan.
The man's face did change them, a flash of something and he bowed his head at her. Her eyes widened slightly, that had been the most respect she'd ever seen them show her. When her eyes traveled back to the Arishok, he was watching her closely with an intense look to his gaze.
Deciding not to linger any longer than needed. Lite lifted her legs and ascended the higher than she thought steps. The Arishok waited until she had almost reached the top for his moment to stand. Hawke barely kept her mouth shut as it tried to slack, and her neck cranked to be able to see his face.
Andrastates tits! He was tall. If he'd done that little move to intimate her, she wasn't about to show it and so she clenched her jaw and met his gaze. He looked down at her for a moment, and she found her head met that middle of his chest. Fuck, he must be able to see for miles up there.
He turned on his heels and stated for a long hallway which had thin pillars run alongside it which lead away from his throne and the part of the compound strangers were permitted in. Lite had to force herself to move after him. She couldn't quite believe it, was quite in shock as she followed his broad back.
When they stepped out into the open, to a collection of tents and noises, she found their camp surrounded by stone wall. As they followed a path, she couldn't help that her mouth fell open and her eyes travelled over everything. At first it was at shock at how many there were, and then it was interest and fascination as she saw a smith working and many hands bustling with work they seemed more than happy to complete.
When they came across the grunt and clashes of metal, she looked to see a combat area where two of the soldiers were squaring off after a brief attack. There were a few watching from the sidelines too. And she saw their was no taunting, but instead they were talking to one another as if training. She hadn't realised her feet had stopped.
"Hawke," the Arishok cautioned, and she hurried to catch up with where he'd waited. He moved onwards and soon she was meant by foreign smell which rushed her nose and made her stomach rumble. Their leader didn't comment on that, thankfully.
She was almost disappointed when they reached a rather large tent, and he gestured for her to enter. She found she wanted to watch the going ons of those around her. It was completely enthralling to watch someone who generally cared for their work, and she was reminded of her time in Lothering.
When her eyes snapped back to the Arishok, there was a knowing look in his eyes which made her want to crawl into the cracks at her feet. Just because she was interested didn't mean she was going to become a convert at the click of a finger!
She gestured to the tent, as if to say she was done and held back from saying 'Age before beauty', that was sure to be an idiom which would annoy him and it was probably best not to provoke him in the centre of his people and their high walls.
The tent opening was so big that he barely had to bend to push his horns through the flaps. They were obviously made for his kind. Hawke followed after, having to push the large canvas aside with two arms. If he noticed, he didn't show it. Not an gentlemen, then. She wanted to snort at that.
Then she noticed the interior. It was spacey, with large bookshelves and a desk to the side. There was also a table with chairs placed on either side where he headed for. It smelt, like the rest of the compound, like spices and oddly enough, the ocean.
He gestured for her to take the seat nearest the entrance and she found herself put at sharp gauntlet hand on the back to pull it out and gently sit on the edge. She didn't want to break anything, and was fearful that she would. Even the damn chair, knowing her luck the legs would snap.
There was a flash of cool air then, she heard the otent flaps as a thin, Elven woman ducked in with a tray holding a steaming kettle. When she looked back to the Arishok, he had lowered his large body into the chair opposite her. Luckily the table was long, and their knees didn't touch. She might just jump out of her skin if that happened.
The Elven woman bowed her head, and place the two cups in front of them. Then set about lifting the kettle, holding the lid and began pouring. Light found herself studying the elf, and was surprised to discover she had the markings of the Dalish. Hawke had never seen one of the travelling elves join the Qun, not that she'd seen many converts.
"Viddathari," she commented aloud, not really thinking and mostly to herself.
The elf jittered a little at being spoken to, or was it that she was in a room with the ever scary Arishok and the ever scary Mage and stranger. "Y-yes, my lady," she replied, just as she set to filling Hawke's cup.
Lite realised her odd eyes could be intimidating, and chose to lower them to the table. When the woman was finished, she bowed and left the kettle where it was. Hawke watched her leave, and suddenly realised she was going to be alone with the Arishok. The leader of the Qunari Armies.
Shit. She was piss poor at small talk.
He studied her for a moment, as he did in his way, and then held the cup in his large, clawed hands before lifting it to his mouth, one finger beneath it to keep it steady. She followed suit, not wanting to appear rude and copied the way he did it.
Her mother had wanted to teach her eticate, how to behaviour around polite society who were not her companions in the least. Who knew it would be the Arishok who would take those first steps. Her lips twisted up at the sides, and then she tasted the tea. It was, well, not like anything she had tasted before. It was rich, and refreshing at the same time.
She breathed out as she lowered it, and found him watching her again. She frowned, and offered, "the tea is nice,"and knew she sounded like a tit.
His expression flickered at that. No, he hadn't liked the description either. He placed his cup down. "Tea made from leaves of plants which only grow in Parvollen."
Her face sobered, and she nodded. "I thought as much. I am honoured that you would allow me to taste it."
"You are interesting, Hawke. For a Bas." He answered, and while he was often silent, his directness always shocked her. It was a contract alright, but when you were seven foot tall and wielded some crazy battle axes, you could afford to offend someone.
She pulled a face at that, "so you have told me before, Arishok. May I ask, why it was that you sent an armoured guard to the home? It was relayed to be quite urgent. Is there something I need to know?"
He studied her again, and she forced herself to keep eye contact. Gold to white. His clawed hand rested on the table top, and she had to stop herself for staring at it. She was sure she'd develop a nervous twitch in her eye by the end off...whenever he say fit to let her leave.
Shite.
"I wished to converse with you. You, Hawke, are the only Bas I have met in this rotten pustule of a city who are worth the words and time of the Qun."
Her eyes crinkled slightly at the sides. "So I have helped your people a few times, if only the others knew how easy it was to get on your good sides," she hoped he could see the humour in her words.
He tilted his head and looked down his nose at her. It caused the gold trim of his horns to shine in the fire of the torches on the walls. "No," that was certainly a word his race knew how to use. Sometimes the only common word they knew. "You have shown respect, a subtle understanding." Meaning she hadn't condemned his people right off the bat. She'd been excited to first see them, in fact.
"A tolerance for learning, not just rejecting our words like so many of your foolish kin do," he continued.
"You show promise," and he said that with so much conviction that she shivered.
Her face was blank for long moments, and he seemingly allowed her time to think on that. She lifted her cup and took another sip of the worm liquid, then wrapped her hands around to keep them warm, her sharp armoured fingers clicked like his claws.
She found herself in a sticky situation. If she came out and said no, he would be angry at her lack of tact, that was for sure. She needed to question, to show that she was not simply saying no, but had thought about it. He would respect that.
So many questions came to mind then. But one hung over her head. She was a Mage - they did awful things to them. She daren't ask, didn't want to her his answer. Her face twisted at her emotions. It seems futile to be accepted into something, only for those people to fear her.
And so she said so. Direct and to the point. "Your people would fear me, Arishok. What good would come from being accepted into the Qun, only to be judged for something I can not control."
His eyes flickered. He liked debates, she found. "Your role would change little, Hawke." That took her by surprise. She had to school her features again and think. He didn't push her, instead watched as she formed her words carefully. He liked consideration to ones speech.
"What does that mean?" She settled on the relative safety of a question.
His claws clicked on the table top, and she managed to keep her eyes on his face. "The Arishok can not speak for the Tamassran, but I summarise that your potential would not be squandered. You will be placed where you are most productive. The role in which you belong."
"That isn't a lot to go on," her face was tight. "To throw my life, and freedom away and not be sure what I was walking in to."
He seemed angered by that. "You would trust the Qun to know what is best for you. There is no freedom where you are now, only chaos, you would find it in the Qun."
"I don't like to be unprepared," she countered. "I am a warrior, and I would not walk into a fight with my hands bound and my eyes covered. Only to listen for instructions from someone on the sidelines."
He leaned forward, as if to engage himself more. His golden eyes more real then she'd ever seen them. "No, you would not be listening to orders. As part of the Qun, you would feel it with your entire body upon that battlefield. You would not question what was to be done, and you would not fall or folter because of it."
She was stunned slightly at that, at his absolute conviction in his words. There was no doubt, no hesitation that it would be the best thing for her.
"And the Qun who accept me, without reservation?" She couldn't help the dubious look cross her face at that, and her hangs tightened around the little ceramic mug.
He placed both elbows in the table surface, much like the pose he did in his throne. "The Qun would place you where you needed to be, and in doing so you would find yourself whole - not 'accepted'. Those under the Qun are one."
Lite couldn't deny that they worked in Union. It was certainly a sight to see everyone working together, and it not being a constant tug of war. Even her companions, with them close friends and family, it still sometimes too a miracle for them to all turn up in the same place at the same time. Her eyes shifted to the floor, then to the tent flats. She could hear the people outside still, faintly and knew she could not deny that much at least.
She opened her mouth to...what? What could she say to it all? Luckily to absent Maker sent a silver lining when there was a voice at the tent flaps. The person spoke in Qulat, and the Arishok answered in it. Then another elf appeared, his head ducked. He appeared less nervous, and must have been a convert for a longer time.
She tilted her brows at that. Was the Arishok trying to send her a subliminal message? That there were many converts - look! See? The male elf had pale blonde, brown hair pulled back over his head and lacked any blood tattoos. His accent wasn't the same as the other elf, she wondered then if the Qunari went round recruiting or the elves went looking.
He bowed his head to the Arishok, then placed his hands behind his back as intelligent green eyes handed on her. "Serah Hawke," he greeted. Light nodded once in return. "A messenger has arrived for you," he said, and he closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"A messenger?" Hawke raised an eye brow. It appeared she wasn't going to be left alone that day. Two in a row.
Lite caught that the elf's lips twitched up in the corners. "Yes, along with four of the city guards."
She frowned. Then there was no question who it was. The Viscount probably heard of her journey to the docks alone and undoubtedly wanted her to report in. The old man was paranoid beyond belief and she wouldn't put it past him to accuse her of consorting with the Qunari.
"It appears duty calls," Hawke remarked, dryly and sighed. When she rolled her eyes to the Arishok, she realised it had been a bad choice of words.
"There is no duty in this self-defecating city," his voice was harsh, and he looked down his nose at her again. "You are wasted here. There is no hope for these humans who flail at you for their attentions."
Her lips thinned, and her voice lowered. "That being said," she didn't want to argue over the city again. Her head was starting to hurt and if she sent a healing spell to it, he might just jump over the table and strangle the life from her. Lite had yet to ever use her magic around him or his compound. It would be like poking a bear, no doubt. "I have a job to do, and no one would benefit from me simply refusing to do it." She levelled her eyes at him. "I have a family to provide for."
He gave her his signature scowl, and she knew that they were not anywhere near done with the conversation or the topics they had brought up. He rose slowly, and then offered a hand out to say 'your messenger awaits'. Lite stood, careful not to knock her tea over as she moved her hand from the heat. It seemed a shame to waste it, but she wasn't about to chug it like a pint of ale in a tavern.
"The tea really was wonderful,"she offered, a slight smile on her face though her mind was gradually filling up with a list of things she needed to do. Get out of the Qunari compound alive for one. Her eyes drifted, glazing over slightly.
She followed the Arishok as he vacated the tent, and she was surprised when the Elven man opened the flaps for her, his head tilted with a slight pull on his mouth. He dropped them behind her before she could say anything, and shifted around her back.
The man fell into steps with her, behind the Arishok and his massive back, and she wondered why. He turned to look at her, holding her with forest coloured eyes. "The tea is called -."
"Oh," she let out. It was a lame response but he gave her no time for another as he bowed his head, and fell away, back down the path they'd taken.
Lite was relieved when they turned down a familiar pillared walkway. She hadn't been able to watch the camp as before, her head was spinning with two many things. One being the oddity of what she'd just experienced. Tea with the Arishok? Varic would shit his small clothes when she told him, Hawke was sure. Maker, the rumours to come out of that...
Still, Lite found herself not caring much for that side of things. Let them talk, they did whether she wanted them to or not. Anything she did was picked at, and oddly, she'd enjoyed herself. The questions were hard to answer, but it was humbling to taste something from their homeland and see them work when others did not.
When they reached the part of the compound she was most equated with, the Arishok took his seat almost immediately and placed his elbows on his knees to stare down at the men who waited for her. She stopped beside him to view the scene below. The messenger was practically shaking - poor man. He worked for the viscount and seemed a nervous sort. There were four city guards, as the elf had stated. No doubt at the behest of the man who didn't want to enter alone.
"L-Lady Hawke,"he said when he saw her. His eyes were wide as they flittered between the Qunari leader and herself. But never lingered too long on the horned man upon his throne. "The viscount wishes to see you."
"Of course," she returned, and felt herself shift into her hard mask. His back straightened and her chin tilted defiantly.
She turned to the Arishok and found he was watching her almost fiercely, and she almost jumped out of her skin when she found those dark orbs on her. Lite remained calm and bowed her head, "Thank you," she told him, and he grunted. There was no form of the word in his language, but she said it anyway.
When she started taking the steps, his voice rang out, "Hawke." She paused instantly, and looked over her shoulder. "We are not done." Was all he said, and she felt she do nothing but nod once.
As she reached the bottom, the messenger seemed eager to leave but she avoided him and went to the Karasaad holding her staff. He still clutched it in his hands, not having relinquished it. He handed it out to her palms raised and she gave him a smile as she took it and secured it on her back. When she turned back to the poor man who's legs were nearly buckling, no doubt from the look the Arishok was giving him, her smile brightened into one people often associated her for.
"Shall we be off then?"
"Y-yes, my Lady. The viscount is eager to speak with you on many matters." She strode past him, and he squeaked slightly before hurrying to catch up with her longs steps. The guards clinked as they followed.
Lite felt the eyes of the Arishok upon her back until she was no longer in his line of sight. It was odd, she had always felt his gaze like it was a physical thing. It appeared she always would.
( )
Welcome to a project I have been working on for months!
I admit, I've had a crush on the Arishok since first playing dragon age 2 year ago and I have always liked that Hawke is able to gain his respect. (And yes, I give Isabella to him as my Hawke understands that actions have consequences - don't hate me).
The Qun is not perfect, but sometimes I think it's less of a headache than the Chantry to be honest. That's not to say that everything about the Qun is correct, not at all - so for the sake of this story, please don't think that what Hawke thinks is always the same as what I do.
This is mostly an AU - as I intent to have it so that Hawke and the Arishok meet later on, after he leaves Kirkwall and gets 'told off' by his people. It could also be seen as Canon for the earlier chapters, as Hawke could have gone round to the compound many times within the years the Qunari are there. (And I'm pretty sure she would, even if she disliked him, just to cause trouble haha).
Apologies for any spelling errors. On the train and my internet keeps coming and going so I wanted to post this as soon as I could while I still could!
Kenna 'Lite' Hawke | Force and Lightening Mage
(Is a blood Mage in cannon - may or may not add that in this story)
Yes, I know the Qun does not accept magic and their mages are treated barbarically. For the sake of the story later on though, I'm having it so that the Arishok is trying to look past it. As he says, he can't speak for the others, but he's hoping she would join and be useful. (If Hawke even did join, I'm not sure what would happen if they were a Mage - as she's also a dragon hunter and very powerful)
Thank you for reading.