Firstfall, 9:31 Dragon

Kirkwall

Winter in Kirkwall is vastly different to winter back home. If I can even call it 'home' after all this time.

For one, it never really gets 'cold' in the city. Something about all those bodies packed in so tight, or something equally ridiculous yet logical. It doesn't really snow, either, just sort of gets chilly. The Hawkes don't find it cold, either, having grown up in Ferelden where it snows most of the year. But the native Kirkwallers are shivering in their boots and complaining about the bitter cold and it's actually rather humorous.

I still don't have a hang of the months in Thedas. I want to call this time of year November, even though technically November doesn't exist here. I spent a lonely yet festive Satinalia (a sort of "yay it's winter" holiday) at the Hanged Man with Varric and the Hawkes, where we told stories and tried to ignore the fact none of us could afford presents.

Like a Thedas Christmas. Heh.

After my little adventure on the wrong end of a Coterie dagger, I put more effort into what I wore. I spent most of the daytime huddled in my room at the Hanged Man with fabric and clothing I'd bought with the money Varric gives me as my 'share' of the profits, trying to fix it up to look less like second-hand clothing and more like appropriately badass mage armor.

Eventually I settled on a black trench-coat-like cloak and some high black boots. I wore a tunic and trousers underneath because I was through with dresses, and I could move easier in pants than a skirt anyway. There wasn't much in the way of hair care products that I could use, so I washed it the best I could and just sort of let it flop and curl of its own design to mid-back.

I spent a hilarious amount of time in front of the mirror, fussing with my wardrobe and trying to make last minute changes before I worked up the courage to go downstairs.

I'm not sure who I was trying to impress with my costume change, but the way everyone downstairs turned and gaped as I came down the steps was oddly flattering. Garrett even started blushing, which was awkward but made me feel pretty anyway.

Varric started taking notes—never a good sign—and I sent him a Look that warned him to behave. I have no idea if he obeyed it or not.

Probably not.

The whole gang was here, ready to discuss the Deep Roads expedition Garrett and Varric were going on, so I snagged a seat between Fenris and Aveline since they were least likely to try and start a conversation with me. I didn't really know any of Garrett's friends all that well except for Anders, who never came to the Hanged Man anyway, so I didn't have much to add when they tried to talk with me.

Bethany was there, and she sent me a welcoming smile which I returned. She was my sister in everything but blood now. She'd been taking me out to the Wounded Coast to help me control my magic better, and she seemed impressed with my progress.

Her logical explanations for how magic worked made absolutely no sense, so I just sort of made up my own and did what felt right, and it worked.

"All right," Garrett cleared his throat to get our attention, and once he had it he continued. "We can only take a small party into the Deep Roads, so I need to know who would be interested in going."

I wasn't all that thrilled about the prospect of being buried underground with the darkspawn, but I'd like the chance to practice my magic on things that actually deserved to die, so I spoke up.

"I'd like to go if you'll have me," I put out there in a small voice. Carver opened his mouth to object (he and Bethany had been banned from going for Leandra's sake) but Garrett quelled him with a glare. "I mean… I don't have any reason to stay here except for Varric, and he'll be going too."

Garrett considered me for a moment before nodding. "We could probably use your magic, Liz. Thank you."

I slumped in relief. I thought for a moment I'd have to fight with him over it.

When no one else expressed a desire to go to the Deep Roads of their own free will, Garrett furrowed his brow. "It would probably be a good idea to bring along Anders, since he's a Warden and a healer."

Hmm. Now I was rethinking my decision. Weeks, maybe months, trapped underground with a man that made my knees weak with his mere presence…

Sounds like a plan.

"Have you asked him?" I wondered. "He might not be able to leave the clinic."

Garrett rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "We don't really see eye to eye… maybe someone else should ask him."

Someone else being me, of course. It was no secret how I felt about the man, except to Anders himself, and he was nicer to me than anyone else. Probably because of how young I looked.

"Fine, Garrett," I huffed in mock exasperation, "I'll go ask him."

Garrett beamed. "Thanks, Liz. I owe you one."