Chapter 2
A week had past since the grand feast to welcome Hawke. And she was growing impatient. Just how long did it take to find the information they needed and could leave the forsaken country? She grit her teeth against her growing agitation. It was no use. Varric had warned her before entering the estate that jobs like these could take months or years. Though Hawke had held the slim hope that this one was to be an exception. A large part of the problem was how rarely she even saw the master of the house. After that first introduction it seemed almost like he had disappeared off the face of Thedas. She had tried to snoop out the reclusive magister only to find herself lost in the expansive estate or turned away by apologetic elves. Slaves. Her mind quietly corrected her. If she was to succeed, she had to adjust her way of thinking to those around her. Another pearl of wisdom Varric had passed on with much grandeur. This was proving difficult though, since nearly everyone she met fell into one of two categories: either completely repulsive mages or quietly scared slaves. She detested the first and was not allowed to become the second, for the sake of the mission.
She sighed quietly over the book she was exploring. It seemed as though Danarius, with how little she saw him, prefered to guide his apprentices with self study. His expansive library was open to her and while it did include a large number of tomes Hawke had never even heard of before, a large amount of them covered various blood magic techniques. She passed over those books. Hawke was willing to indulge herself with learning new magics while here in Tevinter but she would never join the likes of blood mages. Her father had been very clear what his opinion on them were and Hawke agreed with his world view. She would align herself with the other magisters for the sake of the mission but she refused to dabble into the forbidden art.
She pushed the dusty book to the side, having lost all motivation to continue decoding its works. A large part of her frustration came also from the simple fact that she was lonely. It had been over a week since she had last spoke to Varric, even longer since she had spoken with any of her other companions. And the estate was proving to be poor in friendly faces. Hadriana, the other apprentice, had not even spoken more than two words to Hawke since her arrival. Hawke was beginning to wonder if the other woman was trying to purposefully avoid her. And the other members of the estate, the slaves, would only cower or answer quietly to any attempts of conversation Hawke had attempted. Hawke was not accustomed to this. She had always had someone by her side, an ally, a friend, family. Tevinter offered her none of that. She sighed quietly into the dusty air.
A quiet footfall by the door roused her from her thoughts. She turned to face the intrusion. A quiet young elf stood in the doorway. "Master Danarius requests your presence, my lady." It was a whispered order, lacking in cadence that was undoubtedly beat from the slave at a younger age. Hawke smiled at the elf. Kindness was a rare thing in these halls and magisters seemed to have a limited supply to share. Hawke understood that she should copy the magisters' behavior but could not condone the fear in the slave's eyes whenever she tried. So Hawke just filed it away as one of her odd Fereldan quirks. She should be allowed some of them at least.
She pushed away from the table and stood on to tired legs. Maybe now DAnarius would take his mantle as teacher and Hawke could learn some things. Though she was not interested in his expertise of blood magic, she found it bizarre that her teacher did not really show any penchant to teaching. The duo walked the halls together silently. It would be much easier to find out what happened with the lost supplies the Chantry was reporting if she had more access to Danarius as well, Hawke mused. That one elf stood out in her mind. She was almost certain those markings were imbued with lyrium somehow. Elven markings were not so bright nor pigmented. Perchance there was a relation between him and the loss shipments. Hawke was so lost in thought over this that she barely noticed when her guide had stopped at a large oak door. She shook herself from her thoughts and looked toward the elf for guidance. The slave merely studied the floor. Without much other prompting, Hawke strode to the door and placed her hands against the heavy surface. It gave way to her push and led out into a large expansive room. She let out a small gasp.
It was a massive room. poorly furnished in comparison to the rest of the estate. Somehow Hawke had never stumbled onto this bizarre place in her previous explorations. She could not even place where Danarius had fit the size. She stepped forward onto a landing of sorts. Two stairs on either side of her led down into the belly of the room. From what she could see, the floor down there was brown, cheap, at odds with the rich marble she stood on now or the plush carpet that adorned her bedroom. Danarius and Hadriana could be seen talking at the far end of the room. Hawke made her way down the steps to meet up with them. She placed a hand lightly on the railing, trying to support her trembling emotions as she entered this unfamiliar territory. She looked up and down and everywhere, trying to memorize the location. There were no windows in this room, instead being lit by hanging globes that exuded their own yellow light. The ceiling looked vaulted and far up as she kept walking down. She began to feel like she was walking into the belly of the earth in this strange place. Her clothed feet hit the floor rather surprisingly. It was cheap material. Dirt covered the entire expanse of the hall. She looked up in surprise at Danarius and Hadriana, who were now making their way towards her.
"Isn't it lovely?" Danarius questioned teasingly. Hawke almost laughed from the tension. This room was by far the least gaudy of the master's collection. And Hawke had a suspicion that he knew it,
"Oh quite. I really like what you've done with the floor. Homey." Hawke quipped. It earned her a guffaw from the older man and a glare from the woman.
"This is my sparing chamber. I find it works best for easy clean up and to work with the elements. Though the dust is sadly hard to clean out from my clothes." Danarius swatted at imaginary stains on his robes at this remark. He swept a hand out towards his other apprentice. "I hear you have been making good use of my books." Hawke inclined her head at this. Danarius did not let her comment though and continued on. "I would like to see how you compare to my apprentice, Hadriana. It seems like a good way to access how to best teach you." They had matching steel eyes at that. Hadriana looked like she was about to rip Hawke's throat out. Not from malice but from a predatory desire to kill. Hawke felt a shiver run up her spine. How far was this first match supposed to go? To the death? First blood? She turned to Danarius to voice her question but halted at what she saw. He looked almost overjoyed to a cruel capacity at the prospect of the two mages fighting. Where Hadriana had looked calculatingly murderous, Danarius looked harshly entertained at the idea of blood spilt. Hawke was not in the company of kind people at all. She swallowed her first question and formulated a more fitting one.
"What shall I use for a staff? Mine is locked away in the Circle I'm afraid."
Danarius motioned for an off sight slave to step forward. In his hands was a ironbark carved staff. Truly everything Danarius did was outrageously ostentatious. He handed the staff to Hawke. She accepted the gift heavily. She had never held such an expensive weapon before and would not have wanted one from so foul a place. But duty demanded she accept it.
"I believe this will do for your match. You need a more suiting staff as my apprentice of course."
Hawke could only mutter a soft agreement as she delicately held the weapon. Danarius clapped his hands loudly to signal the end of their polite discussion before turning to the matter at hand. "A fight to first blood or until someone passes out and cannot fight anymore. Agreed?" Hadriana gave a soft nod and Hawke mirrored her motion. Danarius chuckled softly, "May the best mage win!" He retreated to the raised dais to oversee the display from relative safety while Hawke and Hadriana sized each other up.
Hawke had to admit a certain level of excitement at the possibility of the fight. An enemy head on was easier for her to rectify with. And a simple fight could do wonders for frustration and pent up stress. She switched her handle on her staff, holding it more balanced between her hands, like her father had taught her long ago. Hadriana watched the exchange with snake like eyes. Fighting to first blood would not be brutal either, Hawke thought. She even chuckled at the thought that Hadriana may beat her to it if she uses blood magic.
"Laugh it up while you can." Came a vicious whisper "I'll wipe the floor with your filthy face, fereldan bitch." Hawke hardly had time to respond before a wave of spirit energy washed over her, pushing her away and trying to rip the staff from her hand. She clenched down hard on her staff and countered with a prison made up of her own spirit energy. Its ephemeral bars flickered to life around their target. Hadriana screeched at their imposing strength before erecting a shield to push them away. Their strengths battled out until Hawke let go in a huff of breath. Surprise flickered across her face at the might the other apprentice could put out. Before Hawke could react, a stone fist was barreling towards her at blinding speed. She ducked away, narrowly missing its barrage and swept a icy blast towards her opponent. Hadriana deftly stepped away from the reaching icicles, slamming the ground with her staff with a dull thud. Hawke felt the reverberations in the ground intensify until she could not hold her footing as the earthquake obliterated her balance. She was forced to her knees and Hawke put a steadying hand out as though to try and will the ground to stop shaking. She looked up as a whistling sound shrieked overhead. She was not fast enough this time and took the earthen fist to the face. Stumbling backwards she forced herself up, feeling a wet substance trickle from her lip. She did not have to check to know what it was. Enough time in back alley fights in Kirkwall taught her what a split lip felt like. First blood. She had lost. Hawke wearily put her staff to her side, defeat tasting sad on her tongue. She should have known a mage from Tevinter would be a whole new kind of beast. Hawke would have to train harder before the next fight. A fireball scorched the air by her face and she flinched from the heat.
A sharp glance towards Hadriana showed a crazed look in the other woman's eye. Hawke appraised her with an outraged and confused glance. She had lost, why was the other mage still fighting.
"Fool!" Yelled the other apprentice "We do not stop fighting until he says to." Hawke shot a glance to the master on the dais. He looked on, making no moves to indicate a finished were expected to keep fighting. Hawke was shot through with anger at this display. They will not even follow their own rules. They would prefer to see her die in this arena and no one would be the wiser, Hawke thought to herself, her vision beginning to tinge red at the peripheries. Her grip on her staff tightened. She would stop this fight if he refused to then.
She moved quickly, mimicking her roguish friend, Isabella. A dart to the left, duck forward. Slide underneath another incoming fist and stop when 20 paces away. Hadriana let fly a string of earthen missiles, certain that she could pummel the smaller woman into the dirt floor.. Hawke merely let them fly past, gaining ground on her assailant in the meanwhile. Hadriana was unaware of the closing distance until Hawke was just close enough to guarantee her aim. She swung her staff forward, a blast of ice forming from the air in front of her. Hadriana was caught in the updraft, too close to dodge again. Her lower body was caught in the ice. Hadriana glared at the other mage.
"This is nothing." She spit out angrily. "I can simply get out of this." Hawke saw the misty air from around the ice as Hadriana tried to burn her way free. Hawke did not give her the chance to though. In a fit of rage at their unfair practises. Their cruelty to others. Her frustration at being stuck in an unforgiving, long, harsh job. Hawke forcibly pressed down two spirit prisons over the other woman's forearms. With a sickening crunch the ice was decimated and Hadriana slumped to the ground. She screamed in agony at the mangled state of her arms. Unable to lift her staff anymore.
Hawke's own arms felt suddenly weak and she dropped her staff with a sudden clatter. She had not meant to do that. She only wanted to end the fight. Her ears held a dull roar as Hawke became keenly aware of the blood seeping from the other mage's arms. Her mind seemed to echo with the other mage's agony. Hawke felt a sick guilt begin to coil in her stomach. Hawke's magic had before been used for questionable things, sure. Her first year in Kirkwall had not been a pretty year. But this? This was cruelty beyond what she had believed Hawke was capable of. Her mind was reeling away from the offending image. Cold seeped down her spine at the thought and Hawke was about to sob when a sharp staccato of sound brought her back.
Danarius was making a slow descent to his apprentices. His hands clapped sardonically at the scene before him. Hawke turned towards her teacher, more of a way to avoid the horrible image she had constructed and less to show deference to her teacher. "Congratulations young one. The Fereldan circle taught you well I see. Perhaps I should spend some time in one." He laughed at his own lame joke. Hawke was too emotionally shot to respond. Hadriana was reduced to soft whimpers from her place on the ground. He sneered at their lack of response. He waved forward his guard. "Escort Hawke back to her rooms, I feel she is in need of an early night."
Hawke was led away from the scene, leaving Danarius and his first apprentice alone in the great hall. Her head pounded from the exertion. Her lip stung and she mindlessly moved a hand to wipe away the blood. It was not until Hawke had put some distance in that she looked around her surroundings again. She was being led by the handsome elf Danarius had shown at the banquet. She admired the graceful way he walked, desperate for a distraction from her cruel actions. His bright blue markings brought Hawke back a little as she remembered her purpose here. She wanted to ask him where they had come from. If they were a derivative of lyrium as she suspected. She opened her mouth to ask.
"I didn't mean to do it." Her soft remark caught them both off guard. The elf looked back at her in question as Hawke's eyes widened at her statement. The slave merely turned away. Hawke took his silence as a denial of her word.
"I mean it. I just wanted her to stop fighting. I had to make her stop." The torrent of words were punctuated by Hawke's uneven breathing. She had to calm down before she made a scene. She figured Varric would have some sound advice about crying in Tevinter over a mage duel but she could not conjure the words for herself.
Fenris continued in silence. He had learned long ago that emotional mages were best not responded to. Better to let them find their own targets of anger than to volunteer oneself to the task. And this mage had shown she was quite capable of channeling her anger into her magic. Fenris may not have been allowed to put into words his feelings when watching Hadriana be defeated by the other mage but he could learn from the display. This one was to be watched and feared as well. All magic was cruel. That was the fact of his life. Her odd behavior after was just another quirk of her makeup. He had to find out as many as he could to better avoid harm from the mages. He knew Danarius and Hadriana well enough by now but this new addition posed a new threat. A silent sob made his ears twitch. Was she crying over Hadriana? He felt a worm of disgust. She would learn too, not to waste tears over people such as them.
Hawke just wanted an ally. She was alone. She was never alone. She had always had someone. And now, faced with the silent back of the imposing elf, that loneliness stuck her like a barb.
Tevinter was proving to be a cruel and unforgiving place indeed. Hawke wanted to reach out to Varric. She had nothing new to report but needed the support of a friendly face at least.
At last, they reached the doors of Hawke's room. She opened the door before the elf could offer for her and slipped inside quietly without a backwards glance. Taking this as a dismissal, Fenris made his way back to his master's side, knowing that is what Danarius expected from him.
Fenris found him sitting in the library at the table Hawke had been using earlier that day. He was skimming over a tome, the one his new apprentice had been reading over, though Fenris could not tell the difference between the ancient tomes. They were heavy useless things to him. Unable to sparse their knowledge onto the elf, they held no interest for him. Danarius did not look up at the elf's entrance.
"So what do you think of our new addition? Pretty young thing isn't she?" Danarius was not actually looking for a response. Fenris had come to terms with being a sound board for the master. It was easier this way, as compared to when the master was looking for Fenris to answer. There were few ways Fenris could anger the magister though his silence. "Who could have ever thought a Fereldan mage, grown up in a blasted Circle, could best a Tevinter mage. My Tevinter mage." Danarius closed the book with a snap. Fenris knew his master well enough to know that he stood on icy ground here. He had to continue with caution. Silence was his best armour here, up until the point when it was very much not.
"Did you notice how she refused to use blood magic?" Danarius finally turned towards his slave. "She will have to change that soon, if she wishes to stay here. Fereldans are barbarians who are both too cruel and too soft. At the same time." Danarius chuckled to himself. "Did you see the way she dispatched Hadriana? That is how those dog lords treat their kind. Though I applaud her for her creativity. I myself have never thought to combine those skills as such." The mage gave Fenris a cruel appraisal. "You are not saying much. What do you think of the new mage?" Shit, Fenris thought. The tide of silence was turning against him. Now, he had to know what Danarius wanted to hear. He had to reply precisely, with the right cadence, the right deference. Or he risked losing his arms to the shattering ice as well.
"She cried on the way to her bedroom." His gravelly voice lilted the few words into the air with a prayer that they were sufficient for the magister.
Danarius nodded sagely at that. "She is still young. Naive. She should embrace that win. Not weep over losers. I can mold her into a great magister with time. But first." Danarius wagged his finger at Fenris. "She must use blood magic." Fenris held no doubts that the new mage would succumb to a demon in order to increase her strength. It was only a matter of time. His clenched at his sides. All mages were the same. If there was a chance for power, they would take it. She was simply another mage to turn into a magister..
