The heat clung to Clarissa's body like a lingering aura as she slammed the door to the estate shut, relieved to be out of the scorching rays of the Kirkwallian sun. Because of the northerly location of Kirkwall in Thedas, summers in the City of Chains were long, baking hot and only occasionally humid.
"When's the next inspection again?" Bethany asked, fanning herself with one hand while she seated herself on the bench, undoing the laces on her boots.
"Not for a few months." Clarissa replied. She had invested a sizable sum of her Sovereigns into the Bone Pit mines, which she jointly ran with Hubert, a merchant by trade and an entrepreneur by heart. Five years ago, she had rescued the Bone Pit from Hubert's asinine management blunders by throwing in most of the Sovereigns she had scrounged up and brought together through the odd jobs she had done in Kirkwall. After venturing into the smog-filled, dragon-infested shafts of the mine, she had seen with her own eyes the potential it held, something the vain and timid Hubert never sought to find out, and she threw caution to the wind with her small fortune. Truth be told, she wouldn't have been able to come up with the coin to make herself a partner in the extorting dwarf's venture after her risky investment.
But then again, she did not join the expedition anyway. She had undertaken a very different adventure of her own, and had returned carrying something far more valuable than Deep Roads treasure in her arms, and deep within her heart.
During her expedition north, however, the mine struck gold, or rather something very close to it. Silverite, in short supply for the various city-states in the Free Marches, had been discovered in abundance in the deep bowels of the mine. The discovery was made by a Fereldan miner, who credited sturdy pickaxes and "good, old-fashioned, Fereldan sweat and blood" when Clarissa came back finding the Bone Pit safe, efficient and operating on a larger scale than ever. Since then, Clarissa has made it her duty to regularly inspect the mine for potential dangers and to ensure Hubert was treating the miners, Marcher and Fereldan alike, equally. She made it a point to stick with her schedule throughout the year, regardless of the extreme weather that swept through the valley annually. It was not like she anything better to do, but there were times she contemplated leaving the miners without supervision, what with the stark contrast between the warmth and safety of her estate and the unforgiving conditions of the mines. Winters were particularly tough but easy to counteract for her, for the biting cold could be held at bay by excessive layers of clothing.
The summers were the worst.
"Thank the Maker!" Bethany exhaled, relieved. She tugged at the long sleeves of her tunic, mortified when the sweat between the fabric and her skin kept it stuck to her like a sticky, pungent second skin. Clarissa laughed when she saw the look on her sister's face.
"I commend your choice of clothing, serah." Clarissa said, shuffling out of her short-sleeved variant of Bethany's tunic, leaving her topless save for her smallclothes.
To the Fade with modesty. I need a bath.
Race you! Bethany's voice chimed in.
Clarissa looked round just in time to see Bethany taking the steps two at a time, sprinting for the bathroom.
She reached the door just in time for Bethany to slam it shut in her face.
"Bethany!" she cried, hands going to her hips, "open the door!"
"You can't make me!" a voice, high and complete with giggling, came muffled from behind the door. The sound of water filling up the wooden tub and exaggerated whistling came from within the bathroom.
Clarissa made a mad dash for the tunic she left on the welcome mat at the front door, then decided otherwise and went for the curtains, drawing them shut hurriedly. She would not be caught dead with the Reinhardts getting free entertainment for the night.
The door to her mother's study creaked, and Clarissa silently cursed.
"I heard noises and knew you were- oh!" Leandra Hawke opened the door to her room to find her half-naked daughter standing by the bathroom door, her expression a mixture of surprise, irritation and amusement.
"Clarissa Hawke, have you taken leave of your senses? Clothe yourself this instant!" Leandra decreed, bristling with motherly authority. Under normal and younger circumstances, Clarissa would have blanched and complied with her mother's wishes. This time, however, she let slip a giggle and pointed to the bathroom door, which was curiously shut tight.
"It's all her fault." Clarissa said, wrapping her free hand around her chest instinctively.
"Bethany Hawke-" Leandra started.
"All right! All right! You two are no fun," Bethany sighed mockingly. A moment later, there came the sound of the deadbolt being eased out of the lock.
"You may enter!" Bethany said, sounding very much like a spoiled, rich noblewoman delighting at the sight of embarrassment in the name of good fun.
"See, mother? She's so much trouble," Clarissa said, winking to Leandra, who was rolling her eyes.
"Get in there, Clarissa. You stink," she replied, smiling.
Clarissa stuck out her tongue in retaliation, fanning her face when a barrage of steam, fragrance and moisture wrapped themselves around her body and crept into her nostrils. She broke her playful stare at her mother to find Bethany's head suspended in a body of water, long, slender arms resting on either side of the spacious tub. Her face was a masque of absolute serenity, marred only by a tinge of smugness. The scent of lavender was thick in the steamy air, calming Clarissa's senses and slipping her an overwhelming desire to slip into the tub and wash the day's tires and exertions away. She quickly discarded the remaining articles of her soaked clothing, leaving her bare and eager for the touch of clean, perfumed water on her skin.
Bethany shifted her legs to accommodate for her sister as she slipped a leg in, then another, then sliding into the water with a contented sigh. They rested their heads on opposite sides of the tub, and Bethany studied the satisfied expression on Clarissa's face until she opened her eyes and caught her staring.
"What's the matter? It's not like you haven't seen me so… relaxed before." Clarissa teased, raising one of her lean, muscled legs, dripping with water, to further Bethany's apparent discomfort. Leaning back, she sighed in contentment again, closing her eyes.
"I just thought you'd have a desire to punish me for what I did." Bethany said slyly, a mischievous glint coming into her brown eyes as she returned her sister's gaze. She knew what an effect her eyes had on Clarissa and, sure enough, she shifted.
"I'd love to, but I'm just too tired at the moment. Give me… a few… minutes…" Clarissa trailed off. The soothing fragrance in the air, taking the form of massaging, relaxing hands, was getting to her. If her sister had sprinkled something other than sleep-inducing lavender, perhaps jasmine blossoms, things might have gone over differently. But the relaxing, soothing scent of purple flowers, coupled with pre-existent exhaustion, proved too much for Bethany's teasing to overcome.
Clarissa stirred as a ripple in the placid water claimed her attention from the beckons of slumber. She shook herself mentally.
Bad idea, Clarissa. You do not want to fall asleep underwater.
Then again, she had Bethany to watch over her. The thought warmed her heart, giving her a sense of safety she would have been hard-pressed to find elsewhere.
Then it hit her that her younger sister had been unusually silent for the last few minutes, making no move to keep her from dozing off.
"Aren't you going to press your case, Bethy?" Clarissa asked, injecting as much sultriness into her voice as she could despite her exhaustion. She barely came up with the strength to form the words, much less open her eyes to see for herself what Bethany was up to.
"Clare." Bethany said. Clarissa caught the torrent of emotion running, bucking under the single, simple word, and her eyes sprang open to find a brooding Bethany. Delicate, manicured fingers lingered on one of her cheeks, and glimmering brown orbs betrayed a deep, unsettling worry.
"What is it?" she asked, grunting as she shifted her weight onto her arms, lifting herself up.
"I have freckles." Bethany answered simply, in a heavy tone that would have swept away any and all implications of jest.
Despite that, Clarissa could not help but laugh at her sister's sudden melancholy over such a trivial matter. She rested her head against a raised fist, staring at her suddenly vain younger sister. Amusement came over her, and her eyes twinkled at the merriment she felt.
"Being under a hot sun on a hot summer day for the entire day will have that effect on you, or so I'm told." She rolled her eyes, "and how does that matter, anyway? You've had freckles before. They were adorable then, and they most certainly are adorable now."
"No, no. It's not that…" Bethany trailed off. The hand that was caressing her cheek shifted upwards, covering her forehead as a person would when beset by deep troubles.
Sensing that her lover's discomfort was far beyond mere vanity, Clarissa brought herself round and, tilting herself sideways, nestled herself in the space between the tub and Bethany's arm, which she took hold of and wrapped her own arms around, pressing gentle kisses on her smooth, slick skin. Under different circumstances, either one, or both, of them would have classified Clarissa's actions to foreplay, understanding it as a pretext to bouts of pleasure and satisfaction they shared and enjoyed, but in this case they knew better. Clarissa made no move to elicit further response from Bethany, and Bethany herself simply smiled at her partner's silent prompt, calling to her both physically and mentally.
Tell me then, love. What is it that troubles you?
She felt her eyes shift, moving from inscrutable depths only she could see to meet her imploring eyes. She felt them linger, segregating violet from blue – violet for the affection they shared, blue for the calm she instilled in her heart – and dwelling without particular purpose on the droplets of water in her wetted auburn hair, watching them closely as they broke free of the tangled locks and rejoined the pool below.
She was still deep in thought, and she allowed her time to mull over them. She waited, patiently, knowing that she would eventually open up to her when she wanted to.
"How long has it been?" Bethany said without warning, making Clarissa blink out of the reverie she was unintentionally slipping into.
"Since what?" Clarissa asked, joining her thoughts with Bethany's to discern the entirety of her question. It was a privilege they shared, and they cherished every moment of it. Feeling the flurry of negative emotions within her, Clarissa wrapped her consciousness around Bethany's, caressing her as a mother would, licking her wounds and soothing her aches as best she could.
Pillars of stone;
Circles of mountains.
The chill of the midnight wind;
The feeling of death.
Creeping;
Sneaking.
Unholy;
Profane.
A flash of pain;
An eternity of suffering.
Clarissa withdrew from Bethany's mind, shuddering at the experience.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Bethany started, but was cut off by a barrage of questions that would have sunken a Qunari warship.
"Why are you thinking of that? Why now? What's happened? Is it the Taint?" Clarissa fired off a volley of queries, anxiety creeping into her voice and tension seeping into her bones. They normally avoided the last word, but in her sudden distress, she let it slip.
"Clare, stop. You're flinging water all over the place." Bethany said.
"Answer me! We should go see Anders. He'll know what to do." Clarissa said resolutely, getting on her feet and-
"No, no! Stop!" Bethany cried, grabbing Clarissa by the arm. "Sit down."
"But-" Clarissa was halfway out of the water, and should anyone have been sneaking a peek from the door, they would have caught quite the eye-opener.
"Yes, I'm enjoying the view very much, but please sit down. Nothing's happened to me yet. I've just been thinking."
Her words did little to reassure Clarissa, but she let herself slip back into the warm water, her gaze into her eyes unbroken all the while. This time, she slid over to Bethany's side of the bath.
"A silver for your thoughts?" Clarissa asked. She would've wormed around in her mind more, but truth be told, she would rather not relive the moments again.
"Am I that cheap to you?" Bethany returned, smiling at herself but then quickly gathering her thoughts to answer Clarissa's question.
"Do you remember what Anders said, when we told him about my… condition?" Bethany asked, sidling closer to Clarissa. In the tight confines of the wooden bathtub, it was no hard task.
"The taint is more than a mark on your soul. It is also a death sentence. Over time, the Darkspawn will call to you, and you will hear the songs that beckon to them as your own. Most resist them. All of them will, one way or another, fail. That is the Calling – none escape it, and all will fall under the influence of the Darkspawn in due time, unless they take it upon themselves to end their lives by taking as much of the Tainted bastards with them."
"I remember." Clarissa said. It was easy to forget worries such as the one Anders spoke of, so distant in the future. Over time, it fades from memory, but when it was recalled like it was now, the words come back together in unsurprising clarity.
"They say that Grey Wardens generally have thirty years or so until the Calling takes them." Bethany said, her voice cracking.
"Yes…" Clarissa said, seeing clearly now what her sister was mulling over, "but how is this even remotely related to freckles?"
"The markings of age, the proof of nature's toll on the person," Bethany said, fingers idly touching on the brownish-yellow spots on her face, "they make me feel old, Clare; Older than I used to be only five years ago."
"You are five years older." Clarissa pointed out. Was humour too out-of-place at that moment?
"But it feels so much longer than that…" Bethany said, groping for Clarissa's right hand under the calm bathwater and twining her fingers around Clarissa's. They fastened and held each other tight, between their bodies, barely submerged. Clarissa squeezed, feeling Bethany rest her head on her left shoulder.
"It's like this… thing inside me, robbing me of my life, taking my youth away from me. I feel it nestling deep within my soul, devouring me, eating away at me while I waste my time being a do-gooder? I'm not nobility. I never was, and never will be. Is this how I must spend the last twenty years of my life? Devoting myself to a city that is just a smidgen less than caring towards what I've given away for it?"
"Bethy… stop." Clarissa cooed, running her left hand along the wavy, jet-black tresses she loved sinking her fingers into, "you're rambling, like Merrill. You don't mean it that way."
She waited until she took a deep breath, calming her jilted nerves before continuing.
"You're not living your life for the city, and neither am I." Clarissa said, touching thumb and forefinger to Bethany's chin and bringing her up so that their eyes met.
"Every time I give to the poor, every time I argue with snot-nosed nobles who only care about themselves, a small part of me wants to look back and stare at you, just to see that smile on your face." Clarissa said.
"Every time we give of ourselves to help others, only to have them spit on our hands, the only thought that keeps me going is that you'll be proud of me."
She watched as tears crept into Bethany's eyes, making them twinkle and shimmer. She reached into her thoughts and brought their minds close to one another, the walls separating their minds melting into one another.
"And when you stood beside deathbeds, using your magic to mend wounds and sicknesses that would have otherwise been impossible to heal, I was amazed at how selfless you could be, how you could put so much of yourself on the line and ask for nothing in return."
She felt herself swell with pride, a golden gleam in her mind's eye, and she poured it into their joined thoughts. She brought their combined attention to it, basking in the wonderful warmth and light.
"Remember this," she said, "remember that I am proud of you. I am proud of you, and I love you."
Water spilled over onto the tiled floor below, but she didn't care; Bethany's fingers tightened painfully around her own, but she paid the feeling no mind. Inside the tangled web of their intertwined minds, the memories of the stone prison, lonely and foreboding, surfaced and assaulted them anew, but Clarissa did not shy away. Instead, she endured, she weathered the daunting visions and the fear coiled behind it, not letting it take control and drive a wedge between them. She smiled reassuringly, tipping Bethany's chin slightly.
I won't abandon you again.
Her lips made their way to the brown, highlighted spots on Bethany's right cheek, pressing a single, loving kiss against each freckle she found. Bethany found them disfiguring; She found them lovely.
Her featherlike skims on Bethany's skin brought her closer and closer to her waiting lips, but she merely grazed them as she made her way across the other cheek, comforting Bethany as only a sibling could, loving her as only a lover could.
It is what makes us special. Clarissa thought, the notion astray from the powerful emotions she felt coursing through them both.
It is why I love you too. Bethany thought, smiling when Clarissa let go of her hand and cupped one hand under her chin, another behind her neck. There came a tender, fleeting moment, when violet-blue met honey brown with nothing else in between. To anyone else, it lasted but a fraction of a second; to them it was a moment that was infinite.
Then she kissed her, slowly but fully, their lips moving in tandem as only lovers intimately linked were capable of doing. She kissed her, long and deep, until the horrifying visions from years past faded to black.