There's much more to life than what you see, My friend of misery
Isabela opened the chest and examined the contents inside skeptically. Rusty spoons, a moth-eaten scarf, moldy doll, pouch of pebbles, torn trousers… all to go to Hawke.
"Feeling generous today, dear Isabela?"
"Well, that's me. As I always say, I'm a helper."
'…And this pretty shiny bracelet we'll keep for ourselves. Hawke can't appreciate fine jewelry anyway, so… Wait, what's this…'
"Hawke!" Isabela broke her internal dialog and turned to the mage, cheerfully waving her trophy.
"You said I bought a stupid hat last week? Well, look at this and think again!"
"Andraste's spiky hair rollers, what is that thing?"
"It's a hat. For mages!"
It was actually a conehead cowl, a terrible wrap of purple fabric similar to the kind that you do with a towel after a bath, but made even more ridiculous with tassels, long dangling trinkets and a fuzzy pom-pom. The unsightly configuration was capped off with an engraving of fanciful design resting at the forehead.
Hawke snorted "For mages? It's enchanted? Jeez, who would be crazy enough to enchant this horrible crap?"
"It looks like some kind of joke."Varric mused, examining the hat with eyes narrowed in mirth. "As if someone knew how stupid it looks and enchanted it to make power-crawling fools wear it anyway. What some people would put on for better bonuses..."
"I've never saw anything that looked so ridiculous." Hawke shook her head, then sized up Fenris, who kept silent all this time, and muttered, "Well, headgear at least."
"Will you ever shut up about my armor?" the elf growled.
"Take it off. I bet that will make her shut up." Isabela purred, and both of them decidedly ignored her.
"Just after you shut up about magic. I mean, look at that, you have feathers at your metal gloves. Feathers! For what? To tickle poor bastards while you sticking your hand through their chests?"
Now I just have to write something dirty about him getting revenge for all her mockery with those feathers in her journal, Isabela sighed inwardly. The girl just asks for it.
"Oh, sure it's easy for you to say. You wear only boring stuff." Isabela interrupted, nodding at Hawke's grey battle tunic that, as she said, was from her father's legacy. Actually, it looked stylish on the mage, complementing her slender frame with a simple design, but also adding some spice with a wide red belt and spiky metal shoulder-pads. "You don't have the guts to put on something really… unusual."
The mage lowered her head and narrowed her eyes in a manner that Isabela called "diving hawk".
"No one says that Hawke doesn't have guts."
"Huh, Prove it." The pirate leaned forward, holding the hat out for Hawke. "Wear it for the rest of the day. I dare you."
The mage looked her over with narrowed determined eyes.
"There are men who struggle against destiny, only to have it swallow them whole." Hawke walked up to the pirate and snatched the cowl out of her hands, "and there are men who embrace destiny…" she yanked the cowl over her head and stuck out her jaw with deliberate arrogance, "and do not show their fear. That's how I roll."
She snapped her fingers, "Varric, write it down, I want it as an epigraph in my biography."
"A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything." Varric grinned broadly.
"Damn straight! I… Ouch!" the big trinket slipped down from Hawke's forehead and hit her on the nose. Hawke cursed and lifted it back up. "Alright, now that it's absolutely clear who is the boss here, let us move on."
"Sure. And now we no longer need to worry about losing our fearless leader."
"I'm a Ferelden Tower of Magi! Got it? I should tell that one to Anders."
"She was so bright that she had to wear a lampshade." Varric declared, dramatically waving his hand.
"Where are we heading?" Isabela asked, keeping herself from smirking at Hawke's efforts to keep her trinket from falling down.
"Blooming Rose. Now that I'm this dashing, I expect to get everyone for free."
"Oh, but where am I supposed to go when your bankrupting them?"
Hawke smirked and then explained her real plans "I want to tell Jethann about Ninette's death. He seemed to really care for her."
"How kind of you. Or maybe you want to comfort him later?" Isabela grinned wickedly and Hawke snorted.
"What? No! Though he is interesting for an elf…"
"Interesting?"
"Well, you know, redhead and those large sky-before-the-storm deep-blue eyes, not usual elven green."
"I thought you preferred green. What was that about a guy who broke your heart or something?"
"Pffft, that one? Well, I'm not sure getting completely wasted and throwing up on my boots counts as heartbreak."
"Hah, happens to everyone, so yeah. You like redheads?"
"Hit on Aveline for the whole year."
"Heh. Second choice?"
"Brunettes."
"Oh, poor blond Anders."
"Well, he has another advantage. Stubble."
"You like it? Really?"
"I guess it's because of my dad. I seem to associate it with manliness or something."
"You like redheads and manly. Aveline is meant to be your true love."
"Heh. Interesting possibility but I expect my true love to be less… lawful."
Something in Hawke's tone made Isabela turn and raise her eyebrows.
"You believe in true love? Really?"
The mage sighed and rolled her eyes.
"I know, I don't look like the type, but you can't deny it if you spent your whole life around it. You just haven't seen my parents together. My mother gave up her rich sheltered life for constant hiding from templars, and father left his adventures of the free, reckless mercenary. We had really tough times, we were on the run for my whole life, but hey, it was worth it. We were happy."
"But then why are you not… hmmm, how should I put it… saving yourself for… eh, 'the one?"
"Jeez no! That's the point – this shit is real. Once you get into it, there's no turning back. You're ready to change your life completely, you sacrifice your ego, lifestyle, you have to put up with your beloved's flaws, past, bad habits. There are no more decisions made only for yourself, because you share everything, live for each other. In short, a whole ton of responsibility. And you don't even get to look at anyone else. So I want to have my fun before I'm doomed." Hawke gave a lopsided grin.
"Maybe it's not so dire. Seems your father was pretty cunning guy, perhaps he had his fun without anyone being the wiser, eh?"
"Isabela." Hawke stopped abruptly and turned to the pirate, her voice pointedly calm and controlled, but her eyes wild yellow. "You do not want to get a slap from a force mage."
Oh, we're so touchy. Daddy's little girl. Oh alright, be that way.
"I don't want be slapped by anyone. Unless it's foreplay."
This guy was the most creepy, weird, twisted and incoherent creature I've ever met, and I made a deal with the legendary Witch of the Wilds and looked eye to hollow eye socket at a Revenant.
The chained qunari mage loomed, silent as the grave. When I tried talking to him, he only growled. He followed me, step after step, without hesitation; without any emotion, not trying to fight or run. He just towered, indifferent, emotionless, never taking his heavy gaze from me.
It was just plain scary.
More importantly, he was getting on my nerves. It was distracting and put me off balance, and that stupid trinket kept falling down from my forehead…
Eventually, I managed to rush headlong into a trap. Flamethrowers in the opposite walls burst out behind my back. I leaped forward, Varric was far enough to avoid the blaze and Isabela somersaulted away. Fenris, caught in the middle, ran through it with a long chain of curses in Tevene. The qunari mage just kept walking, following me through the flames, not trying to escape, not hesitating, in his slow, deliberate manner. He didn't even flinch!
Man, it's wrong, it's just so wrong. It's unnatural, it's against all common sense and instincts, it's weird, no one should act this way, no one should deny themselves so blindly and pointlessly and…
"Hey, hey, elf, calm down!" Varric shouted worryingly.
I looked away from Ketojan and saw Fenris, crossing the distance between us with wide steps and a determined gaze fixed on my face.
I backed away, hit the wall with my shoulder-blades and swallowed hard.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't want to… Fenris, don't!..."he stopped, hovering over me, and raised his hand. I pulled my head into my shoulders and prepared to throw him away with a spell. With one swift finger, and without touching me, he lifted the trinket up, something clicked and it mercifully stopped dangling. I stared at him, my mouth opened stupidly.
"And here I hoped to paw over you while I dragged you away. Spoilsport." Isabela muttered with disappointment, appearing behind Fenris's back. Varric lowered his crossbow with a chuckle. Fenris threw a cold gaze at the pirate before walking away. I poked the trinket at my forehead carefully, but it seemed to be fastened properly.
"Erm, thanks?"
"How did you know that, elf?" Varric asked curiously.
"It's a common fashion in Tevinter." Fenris answered flatly.
"Really?" I shook my head, trying to make the trinket fall again, but it was apparently locked in place. "Jeez, poor bastards… I mean, can you imagine it? The boy walks down the street and all the other kids laugh and scream at him "Dunce cap! Fool! Looser!" And of course that little mage cries and makes a deal with demons to prove to everyone that he's cool. Like, you know, "I'll show them! I'll show 'em all!"
"This is why I always say that hats are serious business." Isabela nodded, readjusting her kerchief.
"As I am in awe of your endless wisdom, Isabela, I suggest you take the lead. And check for the traps while you're on that, please."
"You such a slave driver." The pirate sighed crossly, but obeyed.
Actually, I hoped that the qunari would follow her now if she were leading, but no, he has his priorities straight. A sudden chill ran down my spine. Will he stop following me when we leave town? How will I force him to if he won't? Jeez, what did I get myself into?...
I sighed, caught up with the elf and coughed. "Fenris, mmm… sorry for that trap."
He raised an eyebrow and said with a short smirk, but without rancor, "I always thought if you ever set me on fire, it would be by your own fireball."
"Yeah, I know, embarrassing. Can we just forget it and start the count over?"
"Consider it so." He nodded with calm dignity. I chuckled, then cleared my throat.
"When we first saw this qunari, you called him… errr… Sara-something?"
"Saarebas. It's qunari word for a mage. Means "dangerous thing".
"Nice."
"It was not my idea this time."
"Yeah, I know, I just… Can you tell me more about them? I mean, what's wrong with him, he's just so creepy and strange and… Why does he act like… this?"
Fenris frowned, glancing back at the qunari.
"I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I've never interacted with a Saarebas myself. I know only that they are always chained and kept under constant control by an Arvaarad. I guess it makes following the lead their primary mode of behaving. This mage seems indifferent to our struggles, even with his freedom as the prize."
"Jeez, that's just… I don't like qunari, it's official. I mean, they're like another form of life. I can understand what demons want even if they're so different from us. But those guys… "
"They strive for certainty in their lives." He looked away and said slowly with strange hollowness in the voice, but then shook his head abruptly and muttered with usual sarcasm, "I can understand your confusion since your purpose is completely opposite from that."
I scoffed and made a face at him, but continued walking by his side. Probably because he knew qunari I felt less nervous around him.
"They get the idea, qunari… Ketojan… whatever! Calm yourself!"
He growled, lowered his hands and the fire around him died out. I breathed out and sized him up suspiciously.
"You did what I said. Did I hit the right phrase or something?"
And again he only growled in answer. Ugh, shit.
"He may not know, himself." Fenris said thoughtfully.
Jeez, I'm trying to understand how to deal with this completely messed up guy, who randomly explodes, and you are not helping, elf!
"You can't gesture, or stomp your feet twice if you understand or something?"
He growled again. Does he even understand what I say?
"I bet all he wants is to go chasing after thrown sticks. And someone to rub his belly." Isabela almost purred.
Nope, my mabari has more personality, independence and willfulness. And he's way easier to communicate with!
"Did you react because your lead was threatened?"
Again just another grunt as answer. Fenris spoke up with the same calm hollowness as earlier.
"I know that kind of blind instinct. It is hard to judge how much control he has."
What do you mean, you know that kind of blind instinct? You're snarking and second-guessing just about everything around and… Oh jeez, no…
Scattered pieces suddenly clicked together. I looked at Fenris: always stooped over, always with slightly bent knees, 'brooding and moping' as Varric called it, and instead saw pictures, which were everywhere in Kirkwall and which I considered as artistic exaggeration – crouching white silhouette of a slave with face hidden in his hands in woe. I looked at this Ketojan, collared, in chains, blindly following me, in spite of his pain, without any intention to decide for himself and…
"...He kept me on a leash like a qunari mage."
I'm sorry, Maker's breath, I'm so sorry…
It's not that I didn't know all of this before, it's just that it never really sunk in. Of course, I always felt bad for Fenris. If I hadn't known he was a slave once, I would just break his nose and walk away when he started ranting about my magic. I couldn't think that it was actually worse before, because he's already messed up beyond my experience. My parents rarely ever shouted at me, not to speak of any severe compulsion. Slavery was an abstract term, something very terrible, wrong and horrific, but it existed only somewhere very far, far away and it was meant without saying that all slaves wanted to break free. But now I looked at this qunari and if Fenris ever was even slightly like him…
The difference between those two, the leap he had to make to become who he is now… it's just effing unbelievable. Bad social skills and defensiveness…It's amazing that he functions at all. He managed to pull himself out from this hollow, blind, lifeless obedience and what do I do? I mock his armor and crouched back. He struggles out of a swamp, literally blind and without any support and I criticize his lack of grace.
I have never felt like a totally petty shit. Ever.
"Let us… move on." I said, trying to sound calm. "And you… Ketojan, please, try not to explode."
Hawke sat in a dark corner of the Hanged Man, slumped over her mug. If it wasn't for this cowl, Fenris wouldn't have recognized her.
It must be a real shock for her: first seeing another mage in chains, and then watching him die in his own fire.
It was clear she thought it happened because of her, that much was certain. She had not looked away from the fire until the flames died out over the Saarebas's half-burned corpse. Trembling, she had backed away from the ashes, and then she was unfamiliarly silent and grim. It didn't suit her, and more importantly she didn't deserve feelings of guilt over how she had decided to treat him.
Hawke made no secret of the fact that she didn't like qunari and yet, she fought a whole company of mercenaries over the body of one of their dead and then told the Viscount that his son had a right to choose his own friends.
She didn't understand the Qun, and no wonder. Hawke was the essence of freedom and, how Fenris already knew, freedom could be anything but certainty.
He took a seat next to her and she raised her eyes to give him an unusually exhausted and haunted look.
"Please, can we put off the criticism and second-guessing for today at least? I had the impression that you wouldn't beat a dead horse."
"It wasn't your fault." He said quietly.
"I… I just feel as if I denied him his choice. You know, that I should've just let them take him nicely and leave. It was what he wanted, but I thought he was forced and I didn't let him go, but he decided to die after that and… ugh…"
The sudden outburst of rambling died off and Fenris sighed deeply. It was like describing swimming for a bird.
"You couldn't deny his choice. For qunari, the only choice is existence."
She narrowed her eyes "Wait, you mean, even if I…"
"They would have killed him anyway, because he could have been corrupted. And then they most likely would have attacked us, because we interacted with a mage off the lead."
"Oh…" Hawke murmured, frowning. "It's just so screwed up… It's like no matter what you say or do, it wouldn't have changed anything. What did he say? 'Certainty is a comfort.' Certainty in what exactly? That every day will be a copy of the last one? Without any growth, movement or change? Hmpf, how pointless is that?"
He didn't even try to explain to her that if there are no dreams or hope, there would be no disappointments. If there is only one acceptable choice, you don't question or doubt it.
A hawk wouldn't understand a fear of flying.
"It's not certainty." She said slowly, lost in her thoughts "It's chains. Every one of them is chained by the Qun, even the Arishok. He doesn't decide anything, he does what he must. If existence is their only choice, then all free qunari are dead."
She suddenly looked up at him, as if she had opened her eyes for the first time. It was like watching a bonfire flaring up from a little spark. It started in eyes that became bright and vivid, and then flashed into a broad smile and eventually lightened up the whole of her face. He felt himself smiling back and looked away.
"Thank you. I would have eaten myself up for days over it."
"I merely told you what I knew. You certainly have better things to concern yourself with." He scowled, attempting to look indifferent.
She snorted, that smile not wavering in the slightest. "I mean it. I owe you a drink. What do you want? Corff actually has good stuff if you know how to ask. Not as fancy as your Aggregio maybe, but still decent."
He shrugged "I don't care."
"No, that's not how gratitude works. You don't repay a kindness with just anything, it has to be something special. What's your favorite?"
"I don't have favorite."
"Umm… How is that?..."
"You think they make wine sampling for slaves in Tevinter?"
"Ugh, surely not, but you were free for three years and…"
"And I was on the run, hiding from hunters and saving every coin. You think I had time for that?"
"I see." She said slowly, eying him with uncertainty before she got a familiar look on her face. Fenris knew that look; after which she usually would say something like "You, serah, are going to be saved."
"I don't need your pity." He growled. She just raised her eyebrows and laughed
"Pity? I don't pity you! I'm actually almost envious."
He stared at her in disbelief and she explained, waving her hands enthusiastically.
"You have a whole world in front of you! All these awesome things just wait for you to discover them. It's exciting!"
"No. It's ridiculous." He gritted through clenched teeth, but she leaned forward stubbornly.
"No, you're ridiculous. You live in your former's master mansion, wear the armor he gave you and even drink his favorite wine! Freedom is not only about not doing things you don't like, it's also about doing things that you do like. Just because you want to! But then again...You don't like anything."
"And what would you have me do? Go through the bazaar, trying everything that catches the eye, like a laughingstock for the crowd?"
"Jeez, sure, you have to maintain your perfect reputation." She shook her head with irritation "Alright, I can go with you and be the laughingstock. Nobody will notice you in the gigantic shadow of my silliness. Just ask Carver."
"You?" He quirked his eyebrow, crossing his arms "Why would you do that?"
"'Cause it's fun! I mean, all those little things that we don't value when we try them for the first time… It would be just awesome to try it again, savoring all the nuances…"
"You are insane." He stated seriously. She grinned even wider.
"Well, it doesn't mean I'm wrong. Come on, why not?"
Why not? You can't just go and try everything you never had, it's childish, senseless and stupid, and everyone else already knows all those things… How did she make everything sound so simple? Why did she even care?..
"Enough of this inane mocking!" he sprang up and walked away as fast as he could without running.
"Andraste's fragrant armpits, for the first time I'm serious and you… We're not done! Do you hear me?"