Misdirection.
S'aravi assumed that Hawke had already left for the day, by the time she arrived at Gamlen's home in Lowtown they had all gone to sleep. No doubt resting off their adventure at the Bone Pit. She had spoken to Varric at length the night before, this position he wanted her for, and she contemplated all night the many things they discussed. The day was so full of new information to process that S'aravi, upon sneaking into the old, dusty cot they gave to her, passed out immediately.
Now, with the rise of a new day S'aravi awoke to find the house almost entirely empty. She overslept again, but that was not a surprise after fighting dragons at the Bone Pit she was remarkably tired. The stress of overusing her magicka while still strained with the collar.
With a long, drawn out stretch, she stood from her cot and exited the bedroom. Singular bedroom that is, they all slept in the same room as exciting as that was. She was only lucky that they did such hard work during the day, so they hadn't the energy to focus on the lack of privacy. Otherwise, she doubted they would get much rest.
As she lazily made her way through the living room, she felt eyes on her. Running a hand down her face, she made a quick glance to the only person in the house currently. As she suspected, the one person who avoided a full day's work was occupying the room.
Gamlen sat near the fire, eating whatever leftover meat they prepared the night before. It was not particularly appealing, both the food and Gamlen's shameless glaring.
She suspected the man still held some special hate in his cold, cheating heart for her. Not only was she another person taking up space in his dirty shack, but she was a stranger, not family like the others, with an apparent 'demonic' appearance. This, combined with her lack of money, made her a particularly unique target for Gamlen's spite.
Though she was not sure what to do with her day, she was certain that her energy would be better spent almost anywhere else instead of talking to Gamlen about his personal issues with her.
It did not seem she would have a choice either way. Sore, tired, and unsure what to do with her freedom for the day, Gamlen thought he would invite himself into her company.
"Everyone seems to be quite taken with you. Not that any of them are hard to impress, at least some mysterious beast from a magical faraway land that just appears from no where manages to earn their trust more than their own family." He huffed, taking another bite of the dry, tough meat. "If anyone sees you here you'll be more trouble than you're worth."
S'aravi resisted a tired, drawn out sigh. "What's wrong with me now, Gamlen?"
He gave her a stern look, swallowing his food with force that made her a little uncomfortable to watch. "I'll tell you what's wrong. You're a demon, come here for your own purpose; just like all the other demons that come from the Fade. You take over what you want and feed on us good folk. If I say anything and kick you out of my house be sure that they would come to your rescue."
"Well, I see them as my friends and allies. I would hope they would protect me from unfair tyrants hell bent on victimizing a foreigner forced away from their home." S'aravi shrugged, still rather tired. "It sounds rather familiar. A person or persons forced from their homeland and seeking refuge in a new city, a new land, shrouded in uncertainty and struggling to make a living." She hummed, crossing her arms and offering Gamlen an amused grin.
"From what they told me a group of Tevinter's were transporting you to their Maker forsaken city. Not a surprise there, those monsters spawn demons from the Fade all the time, they experiment on them and enslave them." Gamlen finished his plate, setting it on the table and standing from the uncomfortable, torn chair. "It's not stretching to assume you're one of those enslaved demons. I bet that collar's the only thing keeping you trapped here."
"This collar does nothing but provide discomfort and imbalance... and also impairs my abilities to fight. Other than that it has no special tethering to this city, to Hawke, to anything." S'aravi scratched at the metal around her neck. She would be lying if she said her body was beginning to accompany the additional weight. Her body started to support the collar and it became easier to carry with her.
Not a fact she cared to share really, how she grew used to a collar forced on her. Those who took her from her home would likely be glad to hear it though.
With a slightly frustrated sigh, she turned away from Gamlen to find her cloak folded over on a table. She did not intend to be indoors all day long, regardless of the need to remain cloaked, she could not stay in a nasty hut with Gamlen all day. S'aravi would rather sleep outside to avoid Gamlen's constant complaining.
"I guarantee you that not one of them believes you completely. They might smile and agree with you to your face, but they'll always question if you're telling the truth or not. Remember it the day that collar comes off, they will be ready for you, demon." Gamlen felt the need to get the last word in. He was petty and needed to feel like he won, S'aravi was not too keen to encourage him or upset him any more.
Instead of answering the discontented man, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. Combined with the gloves and full body gear, as long as she did not allow them a peak beneath her hood, she would be fine.
No matter the situation she did not desire to remain in the city for long, at least, not Hightown. To stay away from the city guard and Templar she would rather hide in the corrupt underbelly, in the shadows.
For the time being, she wanted something to help hide her face more so that people taller than her would not find her not looking up to see them suspicious and those shorter, like the elves and dwarves, would also not be suspicious when she had to find more ways to hide. An answer to this would be to own and wear a mask. Which would be impossible, being that there are no masks here designed for beast races.
Instead of a true, crafted mask, she would use dark coloured material to give the illusion of a flatter muzzle like the races this city and its people are acclimated to. So long as she paired it with a similar coloured cloak, such as the one she is wearing, she could fool most people and have to worry much less about her safety and potential discovery while out with Hawke and the rest.
Gamlen continued to ramble while S'aravi was planning her activity for the day. He begin to dig into her nerves, she discovered quickly her patience was waning quickly here in Kirkwall. Somehow she began to lose her ability to phase out the ignorant people that constantly berated others or judged people around them.
Judgemental people like the snobby nobles in any city were people S'aravi was able to put aside their negativity and get her work done. For whatever reason, she felt far less patient with Gamlen. Sparing him her form of an annoyed outburst, she calmly ignored him and walked out the front door; cutting off his ranting and allowing her to cool off outside.
With a deep breath, she made sure everything was on tight and her face well hidden. Walking with her head down was a little tricky, she never even had to do it often during assassinations or jobs from the Thieves Guild. During the early days hiding was necessary, but after some time, with her title getting around, no one ever suspected her. She was the Hero of Kvatch, Hero of Bruma, and eventually their Champion.
Hiding was optional, but regardless of hiding her face or remaining public - no one doubted that her intents were just. Even if she was on her way to assassinate a target from the Dark Brotherhood.
It was a luxury, she soon realized while she made her way to the Lowtown markets. A luxury she already missed, being free, able to show her face without fear of persecution. In Kirkwall being new and strange was punishable, at least by the law of fear, not with any evidence to prove she had evil plans like the demons they go on about.
Thankfully the walk to the stalls in Lowtown was very short; Gamlen's home was convenient for quick jaunts to the store.
As she arrived she noticed it was quite busy, the market stalls were a bit more crowded than the times she had been passed here. It was likely just a regular time to shop for the Lowtown folk. It made hiding a little bit more strained, but nothing she could not handle. Just continue to keep her head down and make her way to a clothier stand, wherever that was.
Overlooking multiple stands, she walked around the centre trying to find the correct merchant. All the while her mind was a flurry of confusing thoughts, with Gamlen's accusations in her head and her uncertainty of the people around her, his claims against her honesty and the trust of her newfound friends was coming into question. It was true she remained a mysterious stranger to them, yet many of them still trusted her enough at least to help her out of her unfortunate position.
It was a generous thing, to extend home, food, and company to someone they believed potentially dangerous. An act S'aravi would not soon forget, if that life debt to Hawke meant anything.
In truth she knew it was a bit archaic. As far as she knew she had not met another person in her kind of a position swear a life debt. Most wealthy, famous people offer a reward, not their service. S'aravi had not much to reward Hawke and his friends with, not much to show her appreciation; in Kirkwall she was worth nothing. Truly worse than nothing at the end of it all, she was a threat, someone they would fear to the point of attacking her openly without actually breaking a law.
It was not illegal to kill a demon, an abomination, as they said. S'aravi was neither of these, but the people who responded to her appearance would probably not stop and ask questions before attacking a demon in the streets.
How do her friends see her? They did pose the question to her, demon or nay. Their reaction to her race obvious, they were stunned, but open to new things. She did not doubt her luck when they saw her and identified those transporting her in chains as slavers.
For the time being, S'aravi chose to believe they trusted her and accepted she was not a demon. She did not wish to think ill of them after saving her from a life of slavery. No matter the situation, she knew either she would find a way to escape and regain her freedom or die trying. A dark part of her mind remembers facing the option of being a slave and accepting it.
It is not as though I did much with my life after Martin.
S'aravi felt an intense, sharp pain in her heart. Her entire body ached and her chest tightened. She was not ready to think of Martin, accepting his sacrifice... it was not within her power to face. She could not focus on that memory, watching Martin say his goodbye before she even knew what was happening. The moment between realization of what he intended to do and him actually doing it...
The event was her undoing. All her heroic acts faded and she grew selfish, she refused to admit her weakness, but she considered just running away from Oblivion with Martin beside her. It was unrealistic to think, it would never happen, she could not shirk her duty to the innocent people facing endless torture in Mehrune Dagon's realm.
She would never do it anyways, no matter how she entertained the idea and romanced freedom with Martin. Leaving Tamriel behind to handle Oblivion knowing she could save it - an act of cruelty S'aravi could never commit to.
Shaking her head, she refocused her efforts on the cloth merchant. His stall was ahead of her and he had plenty of dark coloured materials to choose from. Martin's memory could wait another day... or few more years. S'aravi had no intentions of even attempting to accept his death. In her own petty way she wants to wallow in pity and grief. As Gamlen rants and raves at others for what he sees as faults, S'aravi wished to deny facing Martin's death.
As she approached the merchant, she overlooked the cloth laid out delicately on the tables, hoping to find the perfect wrap to help her stitch a cloth mask.
The money Varric paid upfront would easily cover the cost of a small slip of fabric to over her face and neck. Quickly, she was able to set aside different fabrics that she wanted. She would separate the sections to allow for easier time stitching and freedom of movement and actions. A slightly more decorated fabric for the mouth piece, a matte eye wrap, and a head portion to cover the neck and back of her head evenly in case her hood falls or she does not have one available.
A dark, black strip of fabric, sheer enough to see clearly through was perfect for her needs and two more portions with different patterns for her mouth and head pieces. Black, decorated lightly, the patterns shimmering against the light. S'aravi, though she prefers the practical, would not pass up on a chance to make something a tad more appealing if she could. At the end of the day she did still appreciate aesthetic apparel.
"Sir, how much for these three fabrics?" S'aravi attracted the merchants attention as he finished with another customer. The man, dressed in clearly tailored outfit, approached her and viewed the pieces she requested.
"Ah, this one is a lovely fabric from Orlais, many tailors use it to accent evening gowns. These two are Ferelden, from the heart; Denerim. Lovely pieces, the price varies on how much you need?" He answered, the history of the materials was unnecessary, but he was a salesman. The origin of the fabrics meant nothing to her, she knew nothing of Orlais or Ferelden, other than Hawke was born there.
"Not much, say... enough each for a scarf?" S'aravi was not much of a tailor, she had little to no knowledge of fabrics and what makes good material. Hopefully guesstimating would be enough for her needs.
"Of each? Very well, that would run you say... 25 silver. This is only because one of these fabrics, the one from Orlais, is a little hard to keep in stock. It is rather popular for how difficult it is to produce." He picked up the rolls of fabric, pulling out a sectioning blade.
S'aravi, not minding the cost, retrieved the silver from Varric's payment and handed the silver to the man. Quickly, the man cut the material and handed it in folded pieces to S'aravi. "Thank you, Serah. I hope it serves you well!"
She nodded and walked away, the folded material under her arm as she approached an armor stall to find something a little more suiting. If she needed to remain hidden, armor directed to those who walk in the shadows would be helpful. As she saw the armor laid out on the stall, she could already see a piece she wanted. A dark light armor, mostly consisting of dyed leather and material would fit her purpose.
It seemed worn in already, clearly a piece bought for resell value. It would not offer much protection yet much lighter than what she wore now. Her requirements where dark, light, and maneuverability. In this collar and leather armor her movement was considerably restricted and made for uncomfortable fights. A loose, light armor would help her even though the collar could not be helped.
Immediately she inspected the armor for any issues. Since it clearly was worn before, it could be damaged, but all S'aravi found was light scratches and tears in the fabric wraps. She was glad to see nothing damning about it and was ready to purchase. Taking out a few silver from her pouch, she knew it would inexpensive due to it being a second hand piece.
When the merchant handed her the set she was relieved to know she could finally move once she retrieves the rest of the needed supplies.
Time passed and she was back at Gamlen's home, already working on the material and armors she purchased.
The makeshift mask was nearly done and the armor was ready to be worn and used in combat. Few reinforcements were made to ensure its stability during battle. Her mobility was more important since she was not at her absolute best. She could not take the brutal attacks and rebuttal in full force, she needed to remain flexible and avoid direct combat if able.
As the mask was stitched and pinned in place, she fit it on to test the size and vision of the wraps, especially how clear the veil was. A few adjustments to tighten the mouth and head pieces, it was functional. In daylight her hood would stay up, but without the ability to see her face properly, or her muzzle, it would be difficult for people to identify her as a strange foreign creature.
Pleased with the results, she began to strap her new armor in place. She felt like the early days as a recruit in the Brotherhood, the Sister excited to meet her new family. As appropriate she made adjustments to her cloak, opting for a more appropriate cape with a hanging hood.
Her new cut to fit armor, mask, and cape helped increase her range of motion and mobility on the battlefield. She was interested to test it out fully, but for now, her day to herself was coming to a quick end.
The hours it took to find what she needed and make the necessary changes used up all her free time and soon, Hawke returned home with two of their friends to boot. S'aravi, still in the bedroom, heard him enter and listened to the chatter going on in the living room.
Clearly with him was Varric and Anders, two people S'aravi greatly enjoyed being around. Of course Bethany had gone out with her mother, both dressed in day gowns fitting of ladies, especially those petitioning the viscount to reclaim their estate. It was definitely a public appearance, speaking to the right people, impressing them, and getting the Hawke name recognized.
S'aravi assumed their mother, Leandra, wanted Bethany to share in this. The ladies of the house would retrieve the estate as Hawke's social skills needed some... adjustments for the social hierarchy of Kirkwall. The Upper Class had standards and Hawke's usual joking attitude might not help their efforts to get the viscounts attention.
Ready to relax with her friends for the evening, she undressed to a regular pair of long pants clearly made for someone taller than her as they bunched at her feet and a shirt cut to a man's wide chest. The clothing hung loosely on her, but at least the tall, men's pants Hawke lent her had a smaller waist for men. S'aravi's small stature as a Khajiit meant while she held the usual woman's body, she was smaller than the average buxom woman like Isabela.
The clothing was loose and comfortable against her body compared to the leather armor she had been wearing all day. It was nice to know at the end of a day she could rest with people she could relax with, no risks of backstabbing or means to an end partnerships that proved beneficial for a job or quest. This was people who enjoyed each others company
The last thing she could wish for is a proper bath. Her fur was still rather dirty, patchy, and matted. She felt unappealing, as though she was some wild cat, not a being capable of hygiene. She knew that none of the people here would find her attractive, no one was accustomed to the appearance of a Khajiit and did not find this beast race desirable. S'aravi did care about how people saw her, she was clean when she made public appearances and always kept herself clean cut.
People back in Tamriel all had a colourful mix of preferences, what they find attractive and what they do not. S'aravi knew that, for a Khajiit, she was easy on the eyes, plenty of her own kind were attracted to her and some non-Khajiit. Martin, of course, was the most obvious of these as he often told her he thought her a stunning creature to watch move. She recalled many of his loving words to her, uttered often at night when she rested at Cloud Ruler Temple.
She remembered a particular night beside Martin after a long three weeks out adventuring, she completed many tasks, closed many Oblivion gates, and aided people all over. At the end of this exhausting trip, she came back to Cloud Ruler Temple to be around Martin exclusively. If she had the choice she would have gone to which ever of her houses was closest as she wore herself out.
But this place was the only place she wanted to be, so she came from Anvil to Cloud Ruler just so she could rest beside him.
Martin was studying, as usual. It was before her expedition into Cameron's paradise, before the terrible times to come. She was perfectly happy laid before the fire on a blanket and a few pillows laid out over the floor. Dressed in a short linen dress for the night, they were in a room of the main hall in the middle of the night. It was the best time of S'aravi's life; true peace without complications.
Aside from Oblivion on their doorstep.
Martin overlooked S'aravi, caught between his books and the woman he came to care a great deal for. It was freezing even a few feet from the fire, the night brought a sharp wind and the fire looked more inviting than ever. As he finished his studies for the night he sought to spare whatever time he could to rest with her.
They both knew their fight against the daedra had far to go and it would only get harder. Martin already saw the strain it took for S'aravi to get through each day. When he met her, when she found him in Kvatch, she was confused but understood far more than she let on. S'aravi was quick witted and solved many of the questions she tried to have answered before she even met Martin.
The only difference between solving the questions and hearing them was her willingness to do something about it. They all knew something was terribly wrong if the Oblivion gates were opening and S'aravi spoke to the Emperor just before he died. In truth, he told her everything she had to know even though she did not wish to put the pieces together. She knew and Martin had no idea.
He was rude to her, he knew that. He was curt to a strange woman saving his life and the lives of the Kvatch people. He could have been kinder to the Khajiit who came from the dungeons of the Imperial City to a city raised to the ground by daedra. She had no initial stake in this, she did not have to fight, and through it all she came to be the one hero they needed most.
Martin often felt weak knowing the valiant efforts of their Hero of Kvatch saved countless people all across Cyrodiil. He had skill fighting, but nothing like his close friend. She could tear into an Oblivion gate, cut a path between the vile monsters threatening her, and close the gate. Not once, not a few times; she did it more often than he considered possible. In her trips around Cyrodiil she could close anywhere between three gates in a day or one every other day.
S'aravi decided to close a gate if it was close enough to other people going about their business. If it was off in the wilds, she did not much care to travel out to close it. It became trivial to close Oblivion gates for her and yet Martin could not imagine entering a single gate, much less closing it successfully.
To him, and the people around them, S'aravi was special. Someone they relied on to save them all from certain Oblivion.
Martin looked down at the table in front of him, the book discussing the study of the Amulet of Kings. He was needed because his father lay with a woman and bore an illegitimate son. That was his purpose, that was why S'aravi came to Kvatch.
Standing from the table, he saw S'aravi's ear flick hearing his chair creak in relief. He stretched, hearing his body creak along with the stressed wooden chair and floor. It was time to wind down before the next day. The work would not end soon, he would relish what time they had in case they failed and Mehrunes...
Martin shook his head, he did not dare to think about their failure.
S'aravi's tail twitched, she adjusted her position in front of the fire. She was sore, bruised, and yearned for affection to replenish her spirits. Martin and S'aravi shared many intimate moments, never truly discussing their relationship, but still acknowledging their feelings for one another. Naturally she knew their work to stop Dagon was vastly more important and she remained quiet during his study unless she could offer aid.
While Martin felt weak for being unable to fight the hordes of Oblivion, S'aravi felt like a brute. She was able to fight like the daedra she fought, but it was Martin's intelligence that would stop Oblivion. She could fight the physical threats that presented themselves, but Martin could end Dagon's plans once and for all. She did not have the ability to save Cyrodiil, only Martin did.
Martin came to the fire and laid on the blankets beside S'aravi. He felt old, he had been seated at that table for weeks upon weeks; his body was restless. He knew his work was required, but it did not stop him feeling as though he stayed indoors, safe from the daedra outside their walls.
S'aravi grinned, her warmth spreading to him. He was cold, the table was not far from the fire, but the region of Cyrodiil Cloud Ruler Temple resided in was not known for sunny weather. As Martin took her in his arms, the two felt at peace, resting comfortably in each others arms.
They both knew that, if they succeeded, S'aravi would earn herself a place as Champion of Cyrodiil and Martin would be made the Emperor. Should he desire it, the two would wed and she would become an Empress. Neither desired power, they both wished to leave the public eye and the stress of this responsibility. A simple life would suit them. However, Martin began to feel guilty that, should the two marry, he would only be placing more stress on the already worn down Hero of Kvatch.
He knew she would stay with him regardless of the social obligations. He would stay with her even if it meant not being the Emperor. No matter the end result, he had to wear the amulet and sit on the throne. The line must be continued to keep the dragonfires lit.
Martin smiled softly, his eyes closed, S'aravi wrapped against him. If they survived this, if Oblivion was forced from their homes, he would ask her to join him and give her the option. She was capable enough to make her own decision, he would silently pray, just to be hopeful that they would be together after everything is over.
She could see he was in deep thought and, to break him from it, she licked his jaw. A Khajiit kiss is simple, but definitely strange to adjust to the feeling of a Khajiit's scratchy tongue on your skin.
"Do you have a purpose for this or did you wish just to have my attention?" Martin murmured, his eyes still closed. The action did allow him to relax as he was not focusing so hard on their future or lack thereof. She felt his stress ebb away and it bought a smile to her face.
"You are too worried, you are always worried, love." She purred, her tail curling around his leg. "Just be here with me, the future will come when it comes. All we can do it wait. For now..." She raised her torso to rest on her elbow, using a clawed hand to pull at a strand of his hair. She loved his restful features, how the winkles of stress just faded away when he finally took a break.
Martin felt her loving ministrations and responded with a deep sigh of relief. He would never deny how much he loved when she gave these small signs of her affection. "For now...?"
She brought her muzzle closer to his face, enough to feel the heat of her body radiating, her whiskers tickling his skin. He found it hard not to smile, pleased by her delicate touch. "For now I wish to feel your skin against mine, perhaps you can release some of those pent up frustrations on me."
Martin felt a growl rumble from deep in his chest. He had not thought about being with her this night, but he would not deny he had nights he ached for her body. It was a shallow desire, but he reveled in the intimate embrace of their love making. He found a different kind of relaxation from bedding this Khajiit hero. It was pride, ego rearing its head as he knew he could boast catching the loving eye of the Hero of Kvatch, the one person who sought out the Oblivion gates, the powerful being capable of defeating even immortal enemies.
He would never publicly gloat this romantic accomplishment, but it made him feel powerful to feel her beneath him.
S'aravi purred as Martin quickly turned their positions over, placing himself above her. "I would love to have you if you would have me."
S'aravi blinked. She glanced around her surroundings and found herself leaning over a table in the bedroom. No one had come in, perhaps assuming she was indecent, but she still heard them outside in a rather loud but entertaining conversation.
She ran her ran down her face, feeling her eyes sting. She took a corner of her shirt and rubbed it over her eyes, making sure her face was dry. Martin was such an attached part of her person, he was as much a part of her as her fur or her skin. He was closer to her than anyone she had ever met, she had never involved herself in such past times as love between two people.
There were some people in her bed before, a means to an end, but no relationship she would ever consider giving her life for. Martin was different, he was unique; she would give her life if it meant he was here.
S'aravi felt her eyes widen with annoyance, she wanted to ignore Martin and the events that happened after their meeting. She had not a clue why she was focusing so heavily on her involvement with Martin, but she would double her efforts to put it aside. Allowing her pain to fester was better than addressing it. She felt the pain of Martin's loss and wanted to continue feeling it.
It had been some time, but she wanted that pain to be fresh. For now it drove her to action even though before it had crippled her life. She had no way to explain what Martin's sacrifice meant to her, why it was always fluctuating in her mind.
Her body shook, removing the negative thoughts from her mind. She wanted to join the others, but she struggled with this social life she did not attempt to upkeep without Martin around. The longest she ever spent with a person at her side was Martin, not only literally, but she would return to him like a domestic dog. She would explore alone and always come back to him in the end.
He was unique to her in this way. She never stuck around with anyone, yet in this place, in Kirkwall, she was forced to remain in the company of people she trusted.
Hawke and the crew he put together seemed loyal, friendly people. Save perhaps Fenris who was very on edge and mistrusting of everyone, especially her as a hooded stranger that refused openly to reveal herself. That was fair, she thought, she would be concerned as well if the roles were reversed.
For now, it was time to put everything behind her and greet the allies outside the door. She wanted to, she desired their company for comfort; her only experience holding company for this long were good, but ended in tragedy.
Making sure she was proper enough as she could possibly be without a cleansing bath, she exited the bedroom and left the memories behind.
As the light of the living room changed her mood, the group saw her exit and immediately welcomed her. In the far corner Gamlen sat, reading something, annoyed as usual. Bethany and Leandra were not yet home, but Hawke was reclined with his friends nearby.
Anders smiled upon seeing S'aravi's appearance and Varric turned in his chair to see her enter the room.
"S'aravi! Good to see you're up, did we disturb you?" Hawke opened with a wide smile; a smile that appeared as though it had been there for hours.
She shook her head, "No, I have been awake for a long while now. I simply wished to join you, if that is welcome." She asked, knowing none of them would deny her company. They all seemed to genuinely enjoy speaking with her as much as she enjoyed them.
"Of course, we just had a good day with good news!" Hawke exclaimed, clearly nothing could dampen his excitement for this news. S'aravi took a seat on the far side of the couch Hawke sat on. Anders and Varric were grinning too, she felt as though they were all in high spirits. "We have finally raised enough money for the Deep Roads expedition!"
S'aravi smiled, her long teeth revealed. "That is very good news, I assume the expedition will be happening soon, then?"
"Not quite," Varric interrupted, "While we have the funds, thanks to our generous partner Hawke, the expedition still has to prepare. A trip into the Deep Roads has to be a careful one, we need a lot of supplies before we leave. Likely even after Hawke shows Bartrand he has the gold to partner up for the expedition, he will have to put the gold forward to afford more supplies and the team we need to carry our... discoveries out."
"So it will still be some time before we go on the expedition." S'aravi felt that was good, she would like to test her new armor before the major journey to the Deep Roads. It would be an event that would take a lot of time, but she was glad to know they managed to get the gold needed for it in the first place. Hawke has been working to earn this trip for a long while.
"A few days at most, my brother wants this expedition to happen as soon as possible. He'll likely try to be ready within the next two days after Hawke presents partnership deal to him." Varric answered even though S'aravi didn't ask him for further information. He volunteered a lot for her since he hired her the night before, he would assure her readiness before throwing her into the Deep Roads.
"Finally, after all these odd jobs we are finally going on this expedition. Without it we would be in a tight spot, we need this expedition. Thanks to Varric for the partnership and Anders for the Deep Road maps, we can actually do this." Hawke sounded vastly relieved to know his work would not be for nothing. It was a considerable amount of work to put up the coin for this trip.
Anders huffed, "I don't look forward to seeing the Deep Roads again, but this expedition could help your family and you did a favor for me. I have done it before so I can do it again. Just don't be too excited to see what's down there." He still had a smile on his face, though it weakened somewhat as he thought about the return to the Deep Roads.
"I've faced Darkspawn before, in case you forgot our brave escape from the Blight in Lothering." Hawke put on an over dramatic voice, "Our battle out of Lothering to freedom! Heroic! Brave! And all that other stuff they say about people who fought darkspawn." Hawke put his arm around the back on the couch, confident in his abilities to fight his way into and out of the Deep Roads.
"Darkspawn in the old Thaig's are different. I can promise you that, many of them are old, but darkspawn are more cunning than we give them credit for." Anders gave a lax shrug, not wishing to bring down the mood. "But I'm sure we'll be fine, especially since I'll be there to show you the way."
"Oh ha ha, Anders. I'm sure I can beat back a few darkspawn for this expedition. You just haven't seen me in action yet!" Hawke boasted, flexing the muscle on his arms jokingly.
"Hawke, I fight with you every time we venture out together - what are you talking about haven't seen you in action?" Anders raised an amused brow.
"Against darkspawn of course! It's different, fighting people who want to kill me is one thing. Fighting the Blight is nothing like it! I'll show you when we get down there." With a toothy smile and carefree attitude would be enough for the darkspawn to roll their eyes at.
"Well then, I can't really say I'm looking forward to it, but I really want to see you eat your words, Hawke." Anders laughed, hearing Varric chuckle in reply to Hawke's playfully hurt expression.
S'aravi raised her brows at the crew laughing and telling what appeared to be rather tired out taunts. They were all very tired, their day out must have been a remarkably busy one if this is the result. Varric was less visibly exhausted than the others, but enough to show that he was about to head back to the Hanged Man for a drink. Anders was likely to pass out in the living room.
Not that it was a problem, her companionship with them was welcome.
She could not keep her mind away from Martin. This was a rocky start to something she did not want to think about. Avoidance and feigning ignorance is the key, never let it in.