Chapter 9: Why Hawke?
The Herald crossed the courtyard as quickly as she could. She did not think Cassandra would actually kill Varric, but the warrior might leave him wishing she had, and that would bring trouble (not only because she liked the dwarf and cared enough to stop the Seeker, but because a brawl like that would eventually weigh on Cassandra). Not to mention the fact that leaving Varric at the woman's mercy would probably hinder the Inquisition's alliance with Hawke.
Upon entering the armory, she heard the commotion on the second level. She took the steps two of a time and arrived just in time to see Cassandra pushing Varric against the wall.
-You knew where Hawke was all along!- The Seeker looked furious, more than she could have imagined. Surprisingly though, Varric did not seem to be afraid of her. In fact, he took one step toward her and stood as tall as he could, responding with the same anger in his voice.
-You're damned right I did!- Oh Varric, you idiot! You are playing with fire, lots and lots of fire, she thought as she watched Cassandra become visibly livider.
-You conniving little shit!- And there it was: the first punch, aimed directly at the dwarfs jaw.
Luckily, Varric was quick enough to dodge it, running to the other side of the platform the minute he straightened, putting a table between him and the Seeker.
-You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?!
Cassandra had her hand on the back of a chair and, if her expression was any indication, she was seriously considering throwing it at Varric's head. This was escalating far too quickly. If she did not intervene, it would end badly for one or both of them, possibly the three of them, too.
-Hey! Enough!- She used the same authoritative tone her mother had used with her and her brothers, completely unaware she was doing it until she heard herself. In other situations, she would have laughed at herself. She knew her brothers would have.
-You're taking his side?- Oddly enough, Cassandra had taken her role, using the exact same words she had when she was younger, her mother's position wounding her pride. They only needed to say "He/She started it!" in order for her to answer, "Well, I'm ending it!" for to be a perfect reflection of her childhood.
Well, considering her own memories had served well thus far, she may as well use the rest of her mother's tactics.
-I said enough!
Both Cassandra and Varric seemed to relax a little, and even had the decency of looking just a bit ashamed of themselves. The Seeker breathed deeply and when she looked back at them, she seemed to have the world's weight on her shoulders.
-We needed someone to lead this Inquisition.- She then changed her demeanor to a more cold one, merely enumerating facts, trying to analyze the situation from afar. -First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but he was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no… It was just you.- She focused on Varric again, and anger resurfaced. -You kept him from us!
-The Inquisition has a leader.- Varric pointed at her as if he was revealing the obvious to Cassandra for the first time, as if he had kept his secret with full knowledge that the Herald would take care of everything, and his friend would not be needed.
-Hawke was our only hope. He was the Champion of Kirkwall. The mages respected him.- All of a sudden it seemed as though Cassandra had opened the door to her emotions, a direct road to her heart and shame; her voice cracked, -He would have been at the Conclave! If anyone could have saved Most Holy...
So that was what this was all about… She was still blaming herself for the Divine's death, and Varric had just given her the perfect excuse to vent her grief... Not that he was completely innocent, but it made her wonder just how much of this argument was because of the dwarf's lie, and how much was due to Cassandra's personal demons.
She looked at the Seeker and spoke softly,
-You can't change the past Cassandra. Varric's not responsible for what happened at the Conclave.
Cassandra dropped her head in defeat, the pain obvious in her voice.
-So I must accept… what? That the Maker wanted all this to happen? That He... That He...
Varric must had believed this was a perfect moment to take the final blow, and seized it.
-I was protecting my friend!
And just like that, any advances she may had made in calming the Seeker went out the window. The Herald looked at Varric in such a way as to convey her thoughts about his timing, and the dwarf seemed to notice he had made a mistake.
Cassandra in the meantime had raised her head again, and was looking at him with murder in her eyes.
-Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept him secret.
-He's with us now- Varric interjected. -We're on the same side.
-We all know who's side you're on, Varric. It will never be the Inquisition's.
Maker! Mother would know what to do; by now they would be apologizing to each other, and feeling it, not just saying it. She could try shouting at them again, but it seemed pointless. Diplomacy would probably be the best option.
-Attacking him now, won't help us, Cassandra,- she spoke softly again, trying to make her understand she was not protecting Varric, but attempting to solve this problem in the most peacful way possible. Truth be told, she was the one that was on the verge of losing her temper once every couple of minutes, not him.
-Ha! Exactly!- She could have punched Varric herself when she heard that. He was convinced he had no guilt in this situation at all. She could understand his position, and had to admit she probably would have done similarly in his shoes, especially if Cassandra acted toward Varric the same way she did when the Herald woke up from the Conclave as her prisoner.
Still, she was not going to let Varric believe he could do anything like that again now that they were all allies, so she needed to curb his ego.
-And you better not be keeping anything else from us!
Varric made a sound that almost made her laugh, a mix between a grunt and a sigh, something that contained all his frustration and at the same time let her know he had been defeated. He glanced at her and nodded.
-I understand.
Cassandra took the high road and instead of gloating by chastising Varric, she turned and leaned on the railing.
-He did bring Hawke. Late, perhaps, but Hawke is with us.- That surprised her; she was giving credit for something Varric had done, and that was way more than she could have expected from how things stood even a minute ago. Maybe I did learn something from mother after all. -I must not think of what could have been. We have so much at stake. Go, Varric. Just... go.- It was more a plead than anything else, and Varric turned, walking to the stairs with a contrite look.
Before he began to descend, though, he had to say one last thing, his voice full of pain and lingering anger.
-You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the temple, He'd be dead, too. You people have done enough to him.- With that, he walked away, leaving Cassandra no more worse for wear than if he had landed a punch directly on her in the face with all his strength.
The moment they heard him shut the door of the armory, she spoke again,
-I... believed him. He spun his story for me, and I swallowed it.- She paced a little through the room as she spoke until she sat on a chair near the window.- If I'd just explained what was at stake... If I'd just made him understand...- Cassandra had trouble expressing what she thought. -But I didn't, did I? I didn't explain why we needed Hawke. I'm such a fool. -She was leaning on her elbows and as soon as the words left her lips, she placed her head in her hands, hiding her face from the Inquisitor.
The Herald kneed before Cassandra, trying to get her to look up at her.
-Let's assume for a minute that you could have seen past the fantasy he invented, that there was a tiny possibility you couldn't have fallen for a fable spun by one of the most famous storytellers in the whole of Thedas. What then? What if you had tracked Hawke down?
She raised her head enough to look at her, a grateful look mixed with the pain she still felt.
-Honestly…? Hawke might not even have agreed to become Inquisitor. He supported the mage rebellion, after all. He wouldn't have trusted me for a second.- She took a deep breath and dropped her shoulders, temporarily losing that warrior image she always reflected. -But this isn't about Hawke, or even Varric.- She was shaking her head as if negating her own point, or trying to clean her thoughts. -Not truly. I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter. I don't deserve to be here.
-Have you looked at our Inquisition, Cassandra? We're all fools, here.
The Seeker laughed at this, a choked chuckle filled with bitterness.
-Is that supposed to make me feel better?- There was a small sparkle of humor there, deep in her eyes.
The Inquisitor shrug her shoulders.
-More at home, maybe.- She dropped her voice a little, sounding more reassuring, as if trying to console her. -You're too hard on yourself, Cassandra.- She really was; she looked tense all the time. She suspected that was why Cassandra had looked so happy when they'd named her the Inquisitor; some of that responsibility and weight had been lifted off of her, and now she faced many decisions as a friend and advisor, but at least not as one of the heads of the organization.
-Not hard enough, I think.- Maker, she was a lost cause. One of these days I'll take her to get a drink and try to meet the woman behind the warrior, the one that hides in the Chantry teachings. While she was planning this, Cassandra took a deep breath. -I want you to know, I have no regrets. Maybe if we'd found Hawke or the Hero of Ferelden, the Maker wouldn't have needed to send you. But he did.- She tried to smile as she admitted, -You're... not what I'd pictured. But if I've learned anything, it's that I know less than nothing.
She took her hand and smiled warmly at her, trying to close this subject and leave her with some resemblance of closure.
-You and all of us. Fool's Inquisition remember?- Cassandra did laugh this time, fleeting as it was. She squeezed her hand lightly- You did well, Cassandra, you always do. Do not doubt yourself.
At that, she rose to her feet and slowly went to the staircase, anticipating the Seeker having something else to say. When she did not, the Herald looked at her one last time, smiled, and stepped down.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Cole waiting for her. He was about to talk, but she put a finger on his lips and led him outside. Cassandra was having a bad day; she did not want to make it worse by letting her know the boy had heard their conversation.
When they were outside, Cole looked at her questioningly and she nodded, giving him permission to talk.
-You helped, but she still remembers. Pain, guilt, shame, but now, release, peace, serenity. How did you do it?
She put her hand on his shoulder, smiling when he flinched for a second only to relax the next, and even looked at her hand as if it was something marvelous that she could reach out and touch him, let alone wanted to touch him, without fear or revulsion.
-Sometimes people just need to talk about how they feel. We can learn from our pain. In some cases, it's nice that you help them forget so they can keep going, but there are times when we need to remember. That's how we learn to cope, the way we grow as people.
Cole seemed to consider her theory carefully while glancing in the direction of the armory.
-But she's still in pain… just a different pain.- He seemed too confused by this, and she found herself feeling impotent at not being able to explain herself better.
-It's difficult to understand, I know, but give yourself time. By being here with other people, you will be able to understand them better. It's what happens to all of us when we grow up.- She placed a hand on his arm and he looked at her sadly. - You do so much more than any of us does, Cole. You just need to get used to the way we feel, and that it's the same process that happens to all of us as we grow. In a lot of ways, you are more mature than us, more capable of understanding what someone needs to overcome their grief. But in other ways, in the more complex ones, you are still too young.
He did not seem to take this explanation any easier. Maker, this is hard!
-But then I don't really help. I make things worse!- He looked at her with panic in his blue eyes. -Should I not make them forget? Am I hurting them?
-No! No, Cole, please don't think that! You do the right thing, the exact thing people need when they need it most. Remember when you asked me if you should make that healer forget about Pierre? If you should make her forget her guilt?- The boy nodded cautiously at that. -You did make her forget about that, because there was no reason she should feel guilty. Pierre was going to die anyway, and it wasn't her fault. But you did not make her forget other deaths in her career that helped her mature as a professional healer. She needed to experience those losses, no matter how much they hurt, in order to help others. The same thing happened just now with Cassandra… She needs to remember what she thinks she did wrong, even though she didn't act incorrectly, to became better, to avoid making the same mistake again. Just as you do when a helping method doesn't work: you try again, but you don't forget what did not work. As you said, you help different from how a person would, but it works.
Cole was not entirely convinced, and she lowered her eyes to the ground with a sigh.
-I'm sorry, my friend, I'm afraid I'm not very good at this.
She looked back up to him to find him beaming.
-I'm your friend?
He expressed himself so innocently that it almost broke her heart to think she had not told him that before. She considered Cole a gentle spirit, although she did not see him as a spirit, but as a boy learning his way in life, almost like a lost child who needed all the love and caring she could give. She hugged him tightly.
-Of course you are, Cole. You are my friend and if you like, you will always be.
He smiled so sweetly that she wondered how anyone could not consider him at least part human.
-I'd like that. I haven't had any friends since Rhys and Evangeline. It felt... empty.- He looked directly into her eyes and, as if savoring the words, said a slow, - Thank you.
She smiled and repressed a laugh just in case he took it the wrong way. Letting go of his arm, she began to walk up toward the Great Hall, gesturing for Cole to follow.
-So... I heard someone burned turnips in the kitchen. I get the feeling it was you.
Cole looked ashamed.
-A worker, falling, weight breaking wood, stone hurts him, he bleeds but you can't see it, it's hidden under his skin. Friends scream his name, Garin, but he didn't listen. He breathes but knows he is dying, he wishes to be home, remembers his mother's turnip stew. He is in pain, needs to feel at home, again.- Cole was obviously reliving the incident for the man.
She remembered the report about Garin's death. He fell from the scaffold and landed on a paving stone. He was in the care of the healers for an hour, still breathing, but apparently already absent from this world. There was nothing they could do to help him, the internal bleeding too widespread to contain. They had only administered a potion to block the pain, and waited for the inevitable to take place. She had talked to Josephine about it, and together they had done what they could. The man's body had been committed with those who were lost since Haven, the record of his sacrifice for the people of the Inquisition set. As for his fellow workers, they had been moved to another site and allowed some time off for anyone who requested it. Most importantly the security measures had been amplified to prevent another accident like it from happening again. Nevertheless, no matter what they did now, Garin was dead, and that would not change, as any other death under her command (officially since she became Inquisitor and unofficially from before) weighed on her as one failure.
She had stopped walking without realizing, and Cole was next to her in an instant.
-You're hurt. I can help.- She looked at him and he rushed to clarify.- Not by making you forget. By showing you. -She frowned, not understanding his meaning. -They liked you. All of them believed in you as a guide, a friend, a protector, someone worth fighting for. Gentle, kind, humble, honest, she shines with her own magic. She saves us, shows us what it means to live in peace.
He was telling her what the people thought of her, and even though knowing they had held her in such high esteem made it worse in a way, she could not let Cole know that, and hoped with all her power that he could not read her. He was trying to help differently, to understand her on another level; she did not have the heart to tell him he had failed. A tear ran over her face and she kissed Cole's cheek.
-Thank you, my friend.
She walked into the keep, but when she turned to ask Cole if he wanted to join her in checking on Varric, he was gone.
She found the storyteller in his usual spot in front of the hearth, polishing Bianca's wood with a cloth and what looked like bee's wax. She joined him and kept silent for a few minutes before telling him,
-Cassandra's calmed down. I think you can take your hand off your crossbow.
The dwarf looked at her and, though he stopped with his polishing, he did not put Bianca aside quite yet.
-Define "calmed down" for me in terms of who or what she's punching right now.
-Well,- she feigned concentration, as if she could see what the Seeker was doing in that exact moment and was making an effort to put it into words, -She's not punching you. Think you can consider yourself lucky enough for that?
Varric laughed sincerely at this.
-Yeah, I'll take any small miracle I can get.- He changed his demeanor to a more serious one. -I wasn't trying to keep secrets. I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important at the time.
-I know Varric. You never would've kept quiet otherwise.
For a minute he looked defeated even after she tried to reassure him.
-I keep hoping... none of this is real. Maybe it's all some bullshit from the Fade, and it'll just disappear. I know I need to do better. I'm sorry.
-Don't be, Varric, you are doing your best; we all are. -She hesitated for a second, then decided it was important to speak truth to him. -Look, don't tell this to Cassandra, but if I was in your place back then, I would have done the same thing. And if it makes you feel any better, you are one of the few people I would conceal in order to protect you, without a shadow of a doubt.
He smiled once again.
-Me too, Inquisitor.- As usual, he needed to cut the sentimentalism with some humor. -And hey! Now Cassandra will chase us both to use us as training dummies.- They both laughed at the mental picture.
-I swear, dwarf, if one word gets out about this, I will be the first to tie you to a pole and train with you, never mind Cassandra!
