Ch. 2, in which the heroine muses on the nature of mages, meets a possible hero, and Fenris gets annoyed.
Lise stepped out of her manor early the next morning, far earlier than anyone would have expected, given the lateness of her night. But she'd paced herself, unlike some of her other companions - She knew Varric and Isabela would still be abed and she knew better than to drag either of them out, not this early. Anders had unbent enough to get thoroughly soused the previous night, but she couldn't bring him with her anyhow. She'd asked Merrill to poke around the alienage and other places in Lowtown; after all, one blood mage's nose might be better able to smell out another's depravity. Sebastian wasn't an option, not yet; she liked him, but wasn't sure how well his Chantry views would go along on a diplomatic errand to the Gallows. That left Fenris, and Aveline.
The former was waiting in the shadows near her door and quietly took his place at her side while she paused, taking a deep breath. It was early, with the sun only just risen over the harbour. Quietly, the two took a detour; near the Amell estate there was a small cul-de-sac that overlooked the bay and they stopped.
Hawke closed her eyes. The air was sparkling from the previous night's rain, and there was little-to-no activity in Hightown, with all the "proper" nobility still abed. Here and there a servant shook out a rug or put out a bowl for the cat, but for the most part there was nothing but a quiet, clear briskness that cleared her head and made her smile. She opened her eyes and saw Fenris watching the harbour, silently. She raised an eyebrow at him as he looked up and smiled; it was rare that the elf was ever really relaxed and at peace but these early mornings helped.
"That is red enough that I believe it will rain before noon." He pointed at the lightening trail of light across the water.
Hawke laughed. "Nonsense. This is one of those perfect days where the sun will gleam off those distant dark clouds and the whole day will be dramatic and wonderful. Just you watch, I know."
Her friend rolled his eyes. "You know a lot of things, Hawke, and most of them are bullshit. Including anything Varric has ever told you 'in confidence.'"
They laughed together and headed for the Viscount's Keep, to visit Aveline.
An hour and a half later - after tea and biscuits with the guard-captain and her second - they left with Aveline's official note and slowly made their way to the harbour. Lise had left her bow at home, wearing only a long hunting dagger at one hip, and she never wore her armour unless she could help it, especially when she wanted information. She found that it was harder to get people to talk when you looked like you were official. She'd been able to convince Fenris to leave his massive sword at home - she still shook her head at the wonder of how he was able to wield the damn thing - but he compromised by bringing a short-sword and she could not get him to leave off the odd leaf-like leathers he always wore. She shrugged to herself; he said it made him more comfortable. She assumed they were from Seheron, considering the odd design, and the spiked metal gauntlets would be more than enough protection for both of them in a fight. She compromised by sighing and asking him would he at least try to not threaten the mages? It was a typical Hawke-Fenris conversation.
As they stood in the prow of the small cutter that took them from harbour to Gallows, she found herself thinking about mages. Fenris hated them, and with good reason - he'd been a slave in Tevinter, after all. She shook her head, refusing to think further on that subject. Mages and abominations were one thing, and Tevinter mages, well... they were a third. But she and Fenris were best friends, and she knew that he trusted her; he would behave himself unless provoked. And usually, the things that provoked him did the same for her, although he still thought her a fool for suffering Anders and Merrill.
She shrugged again. Perhaps she was. But Anders was a good friend underneath the moodiness, and she believed him when he said he'd taken up with Justice out of a desire to do good, and help better the lot of mages. He was strong; perhaps he'd be able to temper some mercy against the vengeance and bring his inner spirit to heel. As for Merrill... she'd have to face her demon one day, but Hawke believed the small elf when she said she had no wish to hurt anyone, and perhaps with friends by her side, they could win free. They'd killed enough demons that Hawke was relatively certain they could handle this one.
As for herself, with her father and sister as mages both, she couldn't help feeling a twinge each time she thought about what the kind as a whole suffered. But she was pragmatic. As dangerous as mages could be to the world, so could the world be to them. She'd known many who preferred the walls of the circle, enjoying a life of research and contemplation. There, they were not shunned, there they did not have to worry about bandits or other, outward danger. Would she loosen the restrictions if she could? Most definitely. Mages deserved to make their own choices and their own lives.
When she met them in her travels, her reaction was split; sometimes she helped them escape, if they were truly running from something terrible, and were free from any taint. Sometimes she gently remanded them back to the circle. She'd sent a young half-elven boy to the Kirkwall circle last year after tracking him down and realizing that without training, he'd be an abomination within weeks, if not days. Perhaps the Dalish could have helped him, but she hadn't even found their camp until afterwards.
Yet she kept Anders and Merrill away from the circle, knowing that their lives would be brief if they went anywhere near. Her rule was that there was no excuse for blood magic; Merrill was no exception, but Hawke also believed in the Chantry's concept of redemption, so unless the elf proved herself irredeemable, she was welcome. Her blood magic, at least, was restricted to a quest for information, and what she believed was the protection of her people.
Mostly, Lise just wondered why so many mages fell prey to their own pitfalls. It was a vicious cycle... the more they were squeezed, the more they turned to any means to avoid the danger. But one would think that at least a few of them would realize what her father had drilled into Bethy's head, and Lise had learned by association - the best way to convince someone they were right to mistrust you was to do exactly what they'd predicted you would all along.
Lise was roused from her reverie as Fenris touched her arm. She shook her head, nodding to him in thanks; it wasn't really a productive line of thought, after all. Everyone wanted everyone else to pick one side or the other - you either hated all mages and refused to trust any of them, or you loved them all, accepted everything they did, and turned a blind eye to everything you couldn't accept. Whatever happened to judging a person by their actions, not their status? She sighed. "Fenris?"
"Hawke?"
"Why can't we ever meet any sane mages?"
The elf gave her a hard look. "There aren't any, except perhaps Bethany. And you know that she and I were never the best of friends."
Hawke sighed again. "I know, I know. Come on." They stepped onto the docks of the Gallows.
She gave her letter to one of the templars at the entrance - they could have gone straight in but she preferred to keep things on the level, especially not knowing what type of assistance she'd need with Emeric. After a few minutes of waiting, Knight-Captain Cullen walked up.
"Serah Hawke," he said, giving a bow that she and Fenris both returned. "Congratulations on the reinstatement of the Amell family household."
She smiled. "Thank you, Ser Cullen. And congratulations on your promotion to Knight-Captain."
He smiled, nodding in thanks, and then held up her letter. "You are here to see Ser Emeric, I understand? By the Guard-Captain's request?" He gave her a questioning look. "We have followed his leads several times, as best we could understand them, and have turned up nothing."
Hawke sighed. "I know, but he's still pestering Aveline, so she needs to look into it. The truth is that there are women missing, with a good chance that it has something to do with blood mages." She frowned along with Cullen, then continued. "And she knows that your own men are busy enough with their daily duties, so she sent along someone with too much free time - myself." She smirked. "Aveline is afraid that I'll grow too soft in Hightown, I think, and sends me off on impossible errands to keep me occupied."
The Knight-Captain laughed, looking a little relieved. "Honestly, I don't know if you'll be able to get anything more out of Emeric than we did, but you're welcome to try. I am glad the Guard-Captain is being understanding about this, as I really don't want it to go any higher up. Meredith has already washed her hands of the issue, having had to make several public apologies for Emeric and his mistakes. And Maker knows you get things done - you've already outpaced me at least once. Follow me, and I'll take you to him."
Just then, the sun decided to ignore Hawke's previous optimism and disappear for good behind the clouds, and the sharp difference in brightness made them all look up momentarily. Cullen shook his head. "You certainly chose a gloomy enough day for it." Fenris smirked in her direction, and she grimaced at him, poking him in the ribs.
An hour later found them stepping out of the common rooms where Emeric spent most of his days when he wasn't wandering around Darktown. The sky was greyer than it had been when they went in, and a biting wind had blown up. Lise shook her head to clear it after having spent too much time trying - and usually failing - to follow Emeric's logic.
"There's something there, something we can use," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm not even sure Gascard DuPuis is dismissable as a suspect no matter what you did or didn't find." Cullen raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. "But… I can't get enough from Emeric. Just when I think we've gotten to the start of something useful, he wanders again. Maker… is this what every templar goes through?"
Cullen nodded, looking sad and a little distant - understandable given that he was a templar himself. "To varying degrees, yes. It depends on the level of addiction and stamina of the user. Most of us don't live long enough to worry about it, though."
Hawke frowned at the last line, tacitly leaving it alone. "I know the Chantry frowns on lyrium use when one is no longer active in the order, but does it ever help?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes, as long as the person isn't too far gone. Will it help Emeric? It might… his dementia is strong, but recent." Sighing, he led them towards the central hall into the main compound. "Since this is an official investigation and you're doing everything you can to keep it from becoming another political nightmare, I'll fetch a phial and we'll see. Wait here, in the courtyard. I may be a few minutes, since I have to sign it out from supply." He smirked. "Believe it or not, we don't just keep random stacks of potions sitting around in locked chests, no matter what the populace believes."
As the door closed behind him, the first drops of rain struck the cobblestones at their feet. Just as Lise frowned again and looked up, the sky opened and within seconds everything was drenched as the wind blew the rain through the courtyard in slanted sheets. Fenris immediately hopped back and tried to find whatever shelter he could under the non-existent overhang at the door, and despite her shivers she had to laugh. He was so much like a cat in so many ways.
When Cullen opened the door a quarter of an hour later he immediately cursed. "Maker, I didn't even know it had started raining - these walls are so thick, you can't hear anything. Come in, quickly… we'll be lucky if you don't catch a cold, Hawke."
Stepping inside, she looked ruefully down at her sodden clothes. The fir-green of the tunic was subtly dyeing the edges of the cream vest she'd worn over it, but luckily she'd put on dark leather trews and boots, which would dry quickly. As she and Fenris dripped on the parquet flooring, a door nearby opened and an elf stepped out.
"Knight-Captain, is something the matter- oh, I see." He frowned when he saw the visitors. "I hadn't realized the weather had already gotten so bad." Pushing the door farther open, he bowed. "Ser Cullen, I already have a fire if your guests would like to come dry themselves?"
Cullen nodded, gratefully. "Thank you, First Enchanter. Meredith is out but I could not leave them outside in this deluge." He called for a servant as they followed him into the study.
Hawke looked around as a young woman in mage robes with a sun burned into her forehead - which showed her to be one of the tranquil - came hurriedly inside at the summons. She took their wraps, and as Cullen stepped forward to speak with her, Lise examined the room. It was warm and cheerful, with bookshelves lining every wall, thick curtains softening the tiny, rough-hewn slits that passed for windows and an elegant desk in carved, dark wood to the side near the fire. There were matching chairs around the room, a few tapestries on the wall, and while she was not surprised to see what could only be magical artefacts strewn about she was surprised by the number of pieces that seemed to serve no use whatsoever except that of decoration. It seemed that the First Enchanter was a connoisseur of the arts as well as a student of the arcane.
"First Enchanter Orsino, may I present Serah Elisebeth Amell Hawke -" here, Hawke bowed "and Fenris, one of Prince Sebastian Vael's retainers -" here, Fenris scowled. "Serah Hawke, this is First Enchanter Orsino."
The elf bowed, and she looked at him for the first time. Elves were short, but he was taller than Fenris and even slightly taller than she, and had the slender figure of a scholar. His black and gold robes swept the floor, and she saw a staff against the wall, carved with the heads of three serpents. He wore his greying hair slicked back and she thought perhaps that he was older than she initially assumed, but Fenris' stock-white hair proved that really didn't mean much. Fenris might not know how old he was exactly but no one was accusing him of being middle-aged. She'd heard the First Enchanter was the youngest ever in Kirkwall, and his face did not show the same age that Keeper Marethari's had. Of course, he's both a mage and an elf. He could be three hundred for all I know, and I'd never be able to tell.
At that moment the mage spoke, pulling Lise away from her examination. "I am honoured to meet you, Serah Hawke, Fenris." He bowed again, this time over her hand, and when she caught his eyes she was disconcerted by just how bright a green they were, especially in contrast to the muted colours about his person. She nodded in greeting, but Fenris merely glared - a look which she returned, willing him to be civil.
Just then, the door opened again and the servant carried in a tray laden with steaming mugs and a plate of hot pastries. The First Enchanter took it, having made room on his desk, and at that moment Hawke sneezed. Her pants and boots had dried to some extent - as had Fenris' leathers - but her shirt was still dripping. She absent-mindedly frowned as she noticed that she also seemed to be dyeing the carpet green, too. She'd have to complain to the tailor at a later date.
The mage looked up, alarmed. "How remiss of me - Serah, you will catch your death of a cold if you continue in those wet things. Laretha, bring Serah Hawke a spare robe, if you will?" The tranquil nodded and left. Lise shivered, although it was more at the lack of emotion the woman evinced than temperature. She hated seeing tranquil, knowing that had the past been any different it could have been Bethany in their place.
He misinterpreted the action, however, and gently took her elbow. "If you will permit me to show you to my rooms, you may change there and await Laretha." She nodded, sneezing again as he lead her to a door in the back wall.
Cullen cleared his throat. "If you don't mind, First Enchanter, might I leave them here to your care? I hate to interrupt your day, but…"
He trailed off, and The First Enchanter shook his head. "Do not worry, Knight-Captain. You have duties, and I am merely playing the paperweight today. I will leave my study door open so that no one suspects us of planning revolt and sedition."
He gave a wry smile and Cullen returned it, but shook his head. "Be careful, First Enchanter. I know you joke, but not everyone else would see it so." He turned to Hawke, who was still standing at the inner door. "I will be back in an hour or so to take you back to Emeric. Perhaps the lyrium will help."
Lise nodded as the mage raised an eyebrow. "Lyrium? Ser Emeric?"
The Knight-Captain paused. "Actually, you might be able to help them as well, First Enchanter. I will let Serah Hawke tell you the story. As it has something to do with possible blood mages, you may be able to give them advice."
She nodded and he bowed and left. The mage opened the door into his chambers and went to a closet near the bed, bringing out a blanket and some towels. "Please, Serah, make yourself comfortable. Laretha should be back soon."
"Please, First Enchanter, call me Elisebeth, or Lise, or if you must be polite, Hawke? Even if I were used to being addressed as Serah – and I am not – I would not find it comfortable so often." She smiled.
He nodded, and returned the gesture - he had a nice smile, she decided. "I will, my dear, if you will call me Orsino. Now, please. I see Laretha, so I will leave you to change."
Hawke did not actually need the tranquil's assistance, as she'd helped her father and sister with their robes more times than she could count, and a very few minutes later saw her rejoining her companions as she toweled the last of the water from her hair. She sat down on a chair that Orsino held for her in front of the fireplace and accepted the mug he handed her gratefully. Fenris refused a seat, preferring to stand by the fireplace and scowl - "honestly, Fen!" she thought to herself - but he had the sense to accept the wine.
Orsino sat in a chair between the two with his own mug, leaning back with a sigh. "It is good to have companions on a day like today." He smiled at Lise, and at Fenris, and she was relieved to see that he was either ignoring or accepting Fenris' attitude, and that Fenris seemed to be loosening up, at least partly. "But Serah- excuse me, Hawke- I know you didn't come here to indulge my need for company. What is this about blood mages? I've heard Ser Emeric going on a bit – he was close to frantic when Mharen disappeared – but I sense there is more to this."
She sighed, leaning back as well. "Well, Orsino, it's a long story..."
Also, all characters belong to Bioware, I just have fun with them.