Aveline took one more deep breath before stepping into the office shared by Donnic and Brennan. Leandra's latest scheme had seemed brilliant earlier in the day, when it was merely a conceptual thing discussed in private. Now that Aveline was taking the literal steps of putting the plan into reality, however, her nerve was being tested.
"Captain," said both lieutenants almost in unison upon her entrance.
Aveline gave a slight smile that wasn't as forced as it would have been had the thought not popped into her head that it wasn't all that long ago that Donnic would have risen from his chair, saluted, and stood at attention unless she got her "at ease" out preemptively.
Unlike Brennan, who ceased that practice ages ago, Donnic had continued to do so despite Aveline's explanation of why it was unnecessary. She didn't believe automatic conditioned responses equated to respect. Well, it might be displaying respect for the suit of armor, but that wasn't the same as respecting her. She wanted her lieutenants to set good examples for the others through the type of genuine respect that was demonstrated not only in her presence, but also when she wasn't around.
In any case, she hoped the lack of formality was a sign of him being more comfortable with her.
"Something wrong?" Donnic asked. He didn't know the reason for her lack of immediate verbal acknowledgment, but did notice some uncertainty in her expression.
The captain shook her head. "Sorry, just distracted. You saw me speaking with Leandra Hawke earlier? She asked if I would…" She sighed before continuing, "…attend a party she's hosting at her estate in a couple of weeks."
Donnic raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Requesting the Guard's presence at a private party is highly unusual. Are there specific security concerns she has in mind?"
"This is actually a…" she began before coughing to clear her throat, "a… social invitation…" She rubbed her temple as if nursing a headache and sighed again, waiting to see if he was at least curious enough to ask more questions.
Brennan let out a sarcastic chuckle. "No wonder you look like a condemned woman. I hear those stuffy noble soirees are the worst. Everything so serious and formal and scheduled down to the minute… can't just throw down drinks, have some laughs, or even let one rip whenever you feel like it."
The corners of Donnic's lips twitched in amusement. "Right… being civilized for a few hours is almost unbearable. Even worse, being forced to bathe and put on nice clothes."
"That's not what I meant, wanker," Brennan replied, tossing a crumpled ball of paper at him. His grin only grew wider as he pretended to polish where it hit his chestplate.
The interplay caused Aveline's façade to crack, with a light laugh escaping. "I was an only child, but the two of you are exactly what I imagine a brother/sister relationship is like."
Brennan snickered. "I guess that makes you the ugly twin," she said while pointing at her fellow lieutenant.
"Ouch…" Aveline said.
"Oh, come on, he knows I'm just busting his balls. And it's not like I called him the spawn of Pa's indiscretion with the maid."
Donnic gave Brennan a one-fingered salute before catching himself. "Sorry, Captain… we're being childish and wasting your time."
"It's fine, really," she answered, smiling slightly. "I've said it before, if you can't relax and be yourself around me, then we have a serious problem that needs fixed."
Brennan laughed. "There ya go, Donnic. During the next status meeting with the captain and seneschal you're free to belch the Battle Hymn!"
"You can… actually do that?" Aveline asked.
"Well… it's… really not that impressive… unless you're stone drunk maybe."
"Ahhh, yes, familiar with the concept. Fairly certain though Seneschal Bran is not." Trying to steer the conversation back to where she wanted it, Aveline continued, "Anyway, oh… ummm… hmmm… I forgot what I actually came in here for." She sighed. "Did I already say?"
The two guardsmen shook their heads. "No," Donnic said, "I think we sidetracked you right off about that party you mentioned."
"Oh, yes… that…" Aveline rubbed her temple and sighed again. "It would be fine if it was only a matter of the party itself. But Leandra is being rather insistent that I bring a companion. She means well, but… that puts me in an uncomfortable spot."
Brennan shrugged. "I know you're widowed and all. Always figured you planned to keep it that way, being as I've never seen you with anyone the entire time I've known you."
The guard-captain raised an eyebrow at the assessment. She wondered if Donnic and potentially others never expressed interest due to the same assumption.
"Wesley died in Ferelden while we were fleeing the darkspawn… After arriving in Kirkwall, it took a while before my life was stable enough to even have the time to properly grieve his loss, and longer still before I was at peace. But now? No, I'm quite available… it's just that…"
She trailed off, hesitant to take the next step forward. It wasn't that she didn't trust Leandra's plan, which called for her to use the excuse of a party as a reason to openly, in front of Donnic, be just honest enough about her situation for him to feel empowered to step up, while at the same time not risking the potential complications of being too honest. Rather, Aveline was now to the part of needing to expose some vulnerability, and trusting Leandra wasn't really helping her nerves. Still, she didn't pause long before forcing herself to take the plunge.
"It isn't easy for me… being in this job, the Guard and everything around it is so much of my life. Even if I had the time to be more… socially active… it seems a daunting task to find someone who can not only relate to what we go through on a daily basis, but is man enough to look past the Captain's Regalia and see the woman underneath it…"
She trailed off again, sighing outwardly while inwardly hoping she'd made the bait apparent enough, and more importantly that Donnic was interested enough to take it.
He didn't immediately say anything, but Brennan chuckled. "I hear you, Captain. I can't tell you how many spineless saps I've met that wilted when they found out what I do. At least Maecon gets it that being strong and confident doesn't mean a girl doesn't sometimes want to be flipped ass over tits and hammered like a bent nail."
"Wow…" Donnic deadpanned.
"What? It's the damn truth. Right, Captain?"
Aveline shrugged before allowing a slight grin to form. "I can't say I'd have phrased it like that, but I agree with the sentiment… not needing to be in control of all aspects of our life. I didn't know you and Guardsman Maecon were together though. So, it doesn't bother him that you're above him in rank?"
"Oh, the rank thing gave us a little trouble at first, but not because he was intimidated by it or insecure. Instead he thought with me being his girl he could get away with speaking out of line to me on duty. A boot in the ass and a couple days on dead animal cleanup solved that."
"Cleanup detail couldn't have gone over well."
"Didn't matter. I worked hard to earn this position, and as a woman I've had to work twice as hard to get the same amount of trust and respect from the troops as Donnic here. I'll be damned if I let anyone compromise that. I had to make it clear to him and the others there that our off duty relationship didn't carry over on duty. He wasn't going to be my pet."
Aveline nodded. She suspected Brennan's remarks and the use of the term 'pet' had a sharper point directed at her than simply relating a story, but opted to let that go in favor of replying, "Well, there's no problem here with a subordinate and superior officer being personally involved as long as it's what they both want and it doesn't affect doing their jobs. I'm glad for you."
She glanced at Donnic, giving him the opportunity to comment if he wanted to. He merely nodded, which she didn't know whether to interpret as agreement or simple politeness. She sighed after a few moments when it was apparent he had nothing to say.
"I suppose I'll leave you two to it then. I have my own reports that won't write themselves, so I'll be in my office the rest of the afternoon if you need me." With that she nodded again and left.
-==0==-
After several minutes of knocking on the front door of the Hawke estate – knocking that became banging – it was readily apparent that no one was answering.
Varric rubbed his face in exasperation before blowing out a long breath. "Unbelievable…"
Despite the weariness from their fast-paced return trip, he and Merrill had opted to head directly to Hawke's place rather than continue on with Isabela and Anders to The Hanged Man. Except now it looked like passing up food, drink, and rest in favor of getting the saar-qamek antidote to Misery sooner had been for naught.
"Well…" Merrill said, "It's the middle of the day. It's not unusual for no one to be at home. Though I admit, my feet find the thought of going to look for her unappealing."
"I hear you there. My dogs are barking too." He glanced down at the elf's feet. Even though she was wearing the lightweight leather boots he'd bought for her instead of going barefoot, a few days straight of hiking the uneven rocky trails of Sundermount, the sandy paths of the Wounded Coast, and stone streets of Kirkwall was enough to leave anyone sore.
Merrill wasn't sure what barking dogs had to do with feet, but decided not to question it. Instead she asked, "Perhaps we could… you could let us in? I don't think Misery would mind, she does that at my home when I'm not there."
Varric laughed. "Yeah, she's done that to me too. Mama Hawke probably won't be happy about it if she gets here first, but maybe under the circumstances she'll forgive us."
He shook the locked door handle while thinking about it. "Then again, I'm not convinced Misery isn't here and is just not answering the door. Anyway… let's go around to the servant entrance."
Answering Merrill's questioning expression, he explained, "Daisy, a dwarf and an elf breaking and entering through the front door of a Hightown estate in broad daylight is hardly inconspicuous. The Hawkes would vouch for us, but lockpicking isn't a talent I'd like to openly advertise."
She nodded and followed him around to the side of the estate. After knocking on the servants' door and waiting a couple of minutes to see if anyone answered while also ensuring that no one who'd seen them out front was curious enough to check into what they doing, Varric retrieved the pouch of picks from his pack and went to work.
"It is giving you trouble?" Merrill asked when several minutes went by with no progress that she could see.
He chuckled. "She's a smart girl, installing quality locks instead of the junk commonly used on residences. Only someone who really knows what they're doing is getting by this thing. Fortunately for us, I really know what I'm doing."
"Oh, that's good then. I kind of thought with all of the cursing and the time it's taking that you might be stumped."
"Ouch… a little faith here? I'm getting there, just give me a minute. It's Hawke's place, I have to be careful to avoid damaging the mechanism while I'm at it."
The lock finally yielded a few minutes later. "Should I say I told ya so? I think I should say I told ya so."
Merrill blushed slightly. "Forgive me. It wasn't my intent to question your skill."
"Sarcasm, Daisy, sarcasm."
Once inside, it didn't take long for them to walk the estate and confirm no one was home.
"Hey," Varric said, flashing a mischievous grin. "You know, there's only one thing to do at a time like this."
Merrill stared at him for a moment before frowning. "I… I don't want to go looking through Misery's personal affects."
"Really? That's where you thought I was going? You're killing me… and by the way, probably spending too much time with Rivaini to even think that."
The elf opened her mouth to apologize again, but he interrupted with the wave of his hand. "I meant raiding the pantry."
"O-oh… I see… something to eat does… sound nice actually."
Varric's mischievous grin returned. "Good, then for your punishment you get to throw together whatever we're having. Hop to it."
"I assumed I would anyway," she replied while moving towards the kitchen. "I have never seen you as much as make a sandwich."
"Is this the part where I'm supposed to protest, then after you dare me to prove it I'm stuck making lunch in order to defend my honor? No thanks… I'm okay with you thinking I can't."
Merrill shook her head but said nothing. She couldn't relate to intentionally portraying oneself as incapable of such a basic, common skill. But she was far too tired at this point to quibble over it.
-==0==-
Aveline sighed, absentmindedly drumming her desk with her fingers while giving the appearance to anyone passing by her open door that she was actually reading the page her glazed over eyes were directed at. Instead she was lost in thought.
It had only been a day since attempting to nudge Donnic in her direction. But if he'd gotten the hint, he hadn't shown any interest in pursuing it. And if he still hadn't gotten it, she didn't know what else to do.
What she did know was that she owed Leandra an update. After all, the party at this point was nothing but a charade, a plausible excuse for Aveline to be more forward in getting Donnic's attention. There wasn't actually going to be a party unless Donnic would be escorting her. Other than some preliminary organizational stuff, Leandra was waiting on her before beginning the work that would make the party a reality - having invitations made and delivered, lining up caterers and entertainers, and so on.
The red-haired captain was struggling with flagging self-esteem. While she could list off a number of reasons as to why it was, the truth of the matter was that in more than four years in Kirkwall, not a single man had taken the initiative to express real interest in her beyond some blatant attempts to bed her. Circumstances be damned, she was having a difficult time not taking it personally. It irritated her on days when she felt she still had a lot to offer. On days like this one it made her sad.
"Captain?"
Though the word was soft-spoken, the proximity caused Aveline to nearly jump from her chair. "S-sorry…" she said weakly. "I wasn't paying attention and you startled me."
He forced a polite chuckle. "Do you… ummm… have a minute?"
She nodded, willing herself to calm down. "Of course," she replied, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat… Donnic." She hoped the informality of using his name without the accompanying rank didn't sound as awkward to his ears as it did her own.
"Ummm… Is it alright if I… close the door?" he asked.
Aveline nodded again, and as he went to do so she got up and stood in front of her desk, not wanting to have that object of authority – the captain's desk – serving as both a physical and symbolic divide. Once he sat down, she eased into the chair next to him.
"What's on your mind?" Despite the casual, relaxed delivery, the anticipation had her anxious.
"Well, ummm… some of my men are… complaining about the time off I'm getting for taking care of that smuggling outfit. I've been thinking about it, and… well, it isn't right for only me to get rewarded. So… I'd request the same time off for all six of my squad working the operation."
Aveline did her best to maintain a calm, neutral outward appearance in the face of the crushing disappointment she felt from having her hopes dashed. She nodded numbly. "As you wish… I have no problem with that."
"Very good then. Did you want to tell them yourself, or should I?"
"I… uhhh… it doesn't matter. You can let them know."
Donnic nodded in acknowledgment, then proceeded to make work-related small talk for the following twenty to thirty minutes. Aveline obliged the conversation, though her heart wasn't in it and her distracted mind resulted in him needing to repeat himself a few times.
She looked up, realizing that again she'd missed something he said. Judging from his expression, this time it was apparently a question.
"I'm sorry…" she said. "One more time?"
He frowned. "It's not like you to be so out of sorts. Are you certain nothing is wrong?"
Of course something is wrong! she screamed inwardly, but had no intention of actually saying that. Instead she settled for a shrug. "I'll be fine, just a lot on my mind these days."
"Perhaps you should consider some time off for yourself too. Maker knows you deserve it as much as any of us."
"Perhaps…"
An awkward silence set in, one that was finally broken nearly a minute later when Donnic cleared his throat. "So… I ummm… was thinking about yesterday… that time you were talking to Brennan and me I mean… and uhh, well… I could… accompany you to that party you mentioned. If you still needed someone to that is. It's alright if you don't of course."
Aveline forced away the dumbfounded expression that had been her immediate reaction. On the one hand, she wanted to leap into his arms, decisively expressing her acceptance. On the other hand, she wanted to shield bash him for basically trolling her emotions for the last half hour. She quickly opted for a more pragmatic middle ground.
"I would gladly accept your offer. Tell me though, if you will… are you doing this out of pity, or because you genuinely want to?"
Donnic scratched the back of his head, appearing a bit nervous. "I… ummm… well… hadn't given it much thought to tell the truth. But I don't think someone like you needs pity from anyone. I 'spose… I find you pleasant company… and, uhhh… dusting off the formal wear could be fun. What I mean to say is, you shouldn't think I'm only offering because my captain needs help. I want to."
Aveline chuckled. It wasn't exactly on the level of a confession, but it eased her worries knowing it was at least more than a sense of duty or feeling sorry for her. "Thanks, Donnic, I appreciate it. And I find you pleasant company too, so I'm looking forward to it."
"Very good then. Well… I'd better go see to that maintenance schedule… I'll speak with you later about the details?"
She nodded. "Yes." After walking him to the door and closing it behind him, she leaned back against the door and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"First hurdle cleared…" she whispered to herself. "Thank you, Leandra."
-==0==-
The Hawkes had barely entered the front foyer when Revas' ears pinned back and a brief low growl emerged.
"What is it?" Leandra asked quietly.
Misery instinctively took a protective stance in front of her mother while her eyes darted around what she could see of the main room, all the while straining to hear any signs of what set off the mabari. Several long moments elapsed before the silence was interrupted by the sound of banging metal several rooms away. They knew it wasn't Bodahn or Sandal, whom they'd passed near the market not twenty minutes earlier.
Even as Misery's hands automatically went to her knives, Leandra grabbed her arm. "Wait," she whispered. "There could be any number of them, and you are in no condition to fight. We should leave before being discovered and inform the Guard."
The younger woman scowled at the suggestion, but reluctantly compromised. She reopened the front door and stepped outside, then waved over today's bodyguards – the guardsmen Aveline still had trailing her in public "just in case." After being explained the situation, the man and woman drew their swords and went inside. To Leandra's chagrin, her daughter joined them instead of waiting outside with her.
-==0==-
"There…" Varric said as he rinsed the last piece of the place settings they'd used and placed it on the drying rack. "Happy now?"
Merrill shook her head. "I'm not feeling any particular emotion for you cleaning what we used. Nor do I understand why you seem bothered by doing it after I prepared our meal."
"Bah… we could've just left it for Bodahn. He's making better coin off me than the amount of work he actually does around here is worth."
The elf raised an eyebrow curiously. She knew it wasn't any of her business, but she wondered why Varric would be paying for what was essentially Leandra's servant. She started to ask him about it, but before she could he spun towards the open doorway between the kitchen and dining room.
"I think I heard someone…" he started. However, before he reached the doorway, a brownish blur flew through and slammed into his chest. The hard, unexpected tackle took his breath while knocking him on his back.
Merrill gasped, but then recognition took hold at roughly the same time it did for the other two. "Revas!"
The speed at which the mabari's angry snarl turned to playful tongue lashes might have been comical if not for two things. The first was Varric struggling to breathe under the heavy dog. The second was Merrill finding the business end of a guardsman's blade pointing at her chest. She blew out a breath of relief when Misery entered a moment later.
"Get. Off…" Varric huffed. He grasped his chest and groaned after the dog complied. "Seriously… a-after all these y-years… couldn't you rec…ognize us by scent or s-something?" He failed miserably in his attempt to wipe the drool off his face with his sleeve.
"He's a mabari," Misery replied while sheathing her dagger, "not a blood hound." She turned to the guards. "These are friends. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
As the guards left, she returned her attention to the dwarf and elf. "Well?" she asked softly, skipping all pleasantries and pretenses.
Varric's breathing had resumed enough to chuckle. "Hey, great to see you too!" he exclaimed in mock excitement. "Of course I'd love a stiff drink! As if you even have to ask!"
The female rogue closed her eyes. "Please… just tell me. I… I-"
"We have the antidote," Merrill answered, reaching up and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
In lieu of trusting her voice not to waver badly, Misery leaned into the elf, turning and pulling her into an embrace. Merrill pressed even closer, momentarily content enough to forget the anxieties and troubles she hoped to share with Misery soon.
Varric shook his head. "I'd ask where my hug is, except I'm afraid the pup would take that as his cue to have his way with me again."
Leandra scurried into the room. "Well?" she asked after quickly taking in the scene.
Varric couldn't help but laugh at Mama Hawke mirroring Misery's reaction. He gave her a 'thumbs up' signal though instead of more sarcasm.
She sighed demonstrably in relief. "Thank the Maker…"
"Or Keeper Marethari anyway," Varric replied. "The old lady knows her… stuff."
Merrill pulled away from Misery, resisting the urge to scowl openly. There was much she had to say about the keeper, but none of it appropriate for everyone present. Instead she offered a restrained, "Yes… Keeper was able to fill in what Anders and I were missing."
"You have any business to attend to?" Varric asked Misery. "Apparently this sh- antidote… is going to do a number on you for a few days. So if you have stuff to do, you'll want to take care of it first."
Misery stared curiously for a moment before looking to Merrill. "What does he mean?"
"You will feel worse before you feel better." The elf sighed. "May we sit down while I explain further? I admit I'm feeling the effects of our hurried journey. We came straight here."
Leandra spoke up. "Oh, you must be tired… and were in here for food. Bodahn isn't here, but I'm still perfectly capable of preparing a meal."
"No worries," Varric said with the wave of a hand. "We already took care of feeding ourselves."
Misery smirked knowingly. "More like you talked Merrill into feeding you, right?"
"Hey, it kept her out of trouble anyway. Her idea was to snoop through your personal things while we waited."
"What? Varric!" Merrill exclaimed. "That is not true!"
"Huh… Daisy, yes or no, did you say the words, 'want to go looking through Misery's personal affects'?"
The elf stomped her foot. "That is… you are… you are twisting my words!"
"Stop," Misery ordered. "I don't care what this is about. I'm sorry I said anything. Please… right now I'm very impatient about this antidote. I just-"
Varric interrupted. "You don't have to explain. Look, sorry for being inconsiderate about getting to the point."
"Let's move to the study," Leandra suggested. "It will be more comfortable there."
As the others began to file out of the kitchen, Misery grabbed Varric's arm and spun him to face her. He yelped slightly at the unexpected action, but before he could say anything he found himself in a headlock and his face pressed tight against her chest.
Ordinarily the prospect of being in such a position with Misery would bring with it a host of salacious thoughts. Unfortunately, the present reality didn't involve being nestled between a pair of soft but firm breasts – instead it had the metal rivets of her armor digging painfully into his cheek and forehead.
Leandra looked back and saw the embrace, but only sighed and kept going.
The pain finally got to Varric. He grunted while pulling back, causing Misery to let go of him.
"Damn, Miz," he said, gesturing to her chest while rubbing his face. "You gotta be careful with those things. They could put an eye out."
He chuckled at her incredulous expression. "The rivets…"
"Oh… oh…" she said. Misery wasn't the type to get embarrassed by much, but her cheeks reddened just enough from the misinterpretation to be noticed.
Varric winked. "Though if you think you can put an eye out with what's under the armor too, I'm willing to let you try."
She saw the remark as a not so subtle reminder of his interest in her, but that wasn't something to be discussed here and now. Instead she settled on a sarcastic, "Such a generous offer… I think you've been around Isabela too long."
"Scary, I told Daisy the same thing earlier. Ahhh, well… at least you didn't gut me for it. Let's go talk shop."
"Hey…" she said quietly as they walked towards the study. "I haven't forgotten. We'll talk soon, I promise. That's all I can give right now."
Varric nodded. "I didn't think you'd forget. But I wasn't making a point in teasing you about… sharp points. It was just a joke. And no, I didn't think you'd gut me over it either." With another wink he added, "Well, at least not now anyway. A few years ago might've been a different story."
She reached over and gave his shoulder a brief squeeze, hoping the non-verbal reply would express what would otherwise take far too many words – words her distracted mind had neither the time nor energy to come up with at present. Her slight smile grew a bit wider when he responded with a grin that showed he understood.
-==0==-
Brennan entered the captain's office. "Here are those Lowtown arrest statistics you asked for," she said while dropping the report into the bin on the corner of the desk.
Aveline stopped humming but didn't suppress her wide smile as she looked up from her work. "Thanks."
"Well aren't you the happy one?"
"Heh… and I suppose that grin of yours means you know exactly why that is."
Brennan shrugged. "Let's just say I'm not as oblivious to what's been going on as Donnic's been, and maybe I gave him a less subtle smack upside the head for you."
Aveline's eyes grew wide and her posture stiffened. "What do you mean? What did you say to him?"
"Relax," Brennan said, gesturing for her to calm down. "I played it coy, just told him you'd probably really appreciate it if he helped you out of your bind with that party."
"Hmm… would you close the door for a minute?"
After the guardswoman complied, Aveline continued, "So, tell me what you think is going on here."
"Are we on or off the record here?"
"Off… definitely off. Please speak freely."
Brennan nodded. "You got a thing for Donnic. I wouldn't have connected the out of the blue mystery gift from a secret admirer to you if not for the bullshit duty roster changes the same day. Then that gets changed back and instead the duffer gets promised a few days off to go fishing after that operation at the Docks is wrapped up, even though far's I know none of the others on that operation are getting extra time off. Then yesterday in our office you kept looking at him like you hoped he would offer to bail you out."
Aveline sighed. "I was that obvious?"
"To me anyway. To him? Pfft… you'd've had better luck laying down on his desk and throwing your legs open."
"It'd be easier if I was able to be more direct, but I've had to be mindful that my position could influence him to accept for the wrong reasons."
The captain shook her head and continued, "I asked him if the offer was out of pity. He assured me it wasn't, but it remains to be seen if it's a one-time thing or not. That said… if it does go further… I could use your advice since you have experience managing this sort of thing."
"Are we still off the record?" Brennan asked. Her smirk faded to a scowl after Aveline nodded. "Stop making him your damn pet! However you do it, put boundaries in place so you don't treat him differently – better – than everyone else."
Aveline sighed in response to the venom. "That's why I'm asking. You've voiced your displeasure over it before… loudly… I wish you'd have come to me directly. It's not something I want the rank and file picking up on."
"If you're talking about that thing with the roster changes, you're wrong. I did you a favorby calling out what everyone was going to think and grumble about behind your back anyway."
"Fair enough…" Aveline reluctantly conceded. "Your point is made. I never intended to be unfair to you or anyone else, but clearly I was. Regardless of what happens with Donnic, I'll be careful to guard against that going forward. And I'm taking care of the others on that smuggling operation as well."
Brennan nodded. "Appreciated." After a brief pause, she asked, "So, advice huh? I told you how I had to crack down on Maecon at the beginning because he thought our relationship meant he no longer had to respect my rank?"
"Yes, though you didn't say what exactly he did."
"Oh, he was on my patrol one night, and after we busted up an attempted burglary he swatted me on the ass in front of the other men and said something like 'Good job, babe'."
Aveline raised an eyebrow. "That earned two days of dead animal disposal? Stiff punishment."
"He thought so too, and I'd bet he'd still agree with you. But no, the message I sent was more to the others than to him. They needed to see there wouldn't be different rules for Maecon than everyone else, and I needed to slam closed a door that might lead to others thinking they could get away with disrespecting my rank too. Anyway… after he cooled off we talked it over and agreed on a simple rule…"
Brennan gestured to her armor and continued, "If the uniforms are on, I'm 'Lieutenant' or 'Lieutenant Brennan' and he's to address me as he would any superior officer. So it's fair, I can't cross the line either. Everything stays by the book. The other side is that once the uniforms and ranks come off, that's that. I mean, we talk about how our days went and all, but then it's just Mace and Bren talking."
"Hmmm…" Aveline began, "what do you do if you're on duty but need to discuss something personal, or even something as simple as one of you asking the other to pick up the laundry after work? I'm sure that happens from time to time."
"Yeah, it does. Or did anyway… I don't see him on duty much now. Maecon's still working that district trashed by the poison gas, and when I'm not up here my patrol routes are on the other side of Lowtown. Anyway, before that when he was a regular in my squad, we made another rule that if we're on duty, neither of us can go personal without asking the other for permission first."
"Sounds like a lot of work…"
"We've done it long enough… I reckon nine months now… that neither of us has to really think about the rules anymore. We're used to the way things are, so it isn't the pain in the arse it was starting out. But what matters is we're both protected from having our integrity called into question."
Aveline nodded solemnly. "I understand. Also... I appreciate the advice. I knew you were a good woman when I promoted you, but a lesser woman would've left me to drown in hopes of claiming this desk for herself."
Brennan laughed. "I'm sure the pay is a lot nicer, but I've seen what captains deal with and I don't have the patience for it. Too much politicking, too many meetings, being at the beck and call of a viscount's office that thinks everything is an emergency no matter how stupid or what hour of the day it is. Meh… not really seeing the appeal in undermining you."
After chuckling herself, Aveline shook her head. "Sometimes I think the most useful skill I've learned as captain is how to tactfully tell people that what they want is stupid without them taking it as an insult." She gestured back and forth between herself and Brennan. "Anyway, is the air clear now? If you have any other concerns, I'd hear them."
"No, we're good. Thanks for letting me say my piece without getting all catty about it." As she turned to leave, Aveline stopped her.
"Hey, Brennan… I was thinking… I'd like you and Maecon to come with Donnic and me to the party. Leandra won't mind if I bring a couple extra guests."
"What? You said we were off the record! Now you're going to punish me?"
Aveline smirked. "You must have had some really bad experiences with parties to be cringing in horror at an invitation to one."
The guardswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Well… truth is… I've only heard what other people say. I've never been to one myself. I… don't even have anything formal to wear."
"Hmmm… I find almost any social occasion to be as good or bad as the company you're with. And contrary to what you think, these things aren't all the same. The Hawke party will be a masquerade, and I'll guarantee the itinerary won't be overly formal if Misery has any say at all in the planning."
"Am I allowed to decline?"
"Of course you are. This isn't work related and I'm not asking as your captain. I wish you wouldn't though." With a wink she added, "Besides, if Donnic is getting treated to an evening of fancy food and drink, it wouldn't be fair for you not to be as well, right?"
Brennan shook her head while sighing in resignation. "I can't believe you just trapped me with my own argument. Fine… you got me. Just don't try to make everything the same. I mean, you go spit shining his sword afterwards, don't be thinking you'll give me the equal treatment."
Aveline opened her mouth to question why Brennan thought she'd do that anyway, but before the words came out it clicked that Brennan wasn't talking about forged metal. She coughed awkwardly. "Ummm…. Right. I'll keep that in mind."
-==0==-
"Misery?" Merrill asked softly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
The rogue, sprawled sideways on her bed, turned her head towards the doorway. "Why are you up? You need sleep even more than I do."
This was the second night of the day and a half since Misery had taken the antidote. Merrill hadn't pulled any punches while explaining how awful Misery was going to feel the first couple of days while most of the process of binding and neutralizing the poison and then passing it from her body took place, and though Misery hadn't doubted her, she'd still been surprised at how severely her body had reacted. She was very grateful that she'd accepted Merrill's offer to stay and assist her through it, because the first night was so bad it had her openly questioning if she was going to die.
The elf moved through the dimly lit room and sat on the edge of the bed. "I woke… and thought I would check on you before going back to sleep. Truthfully, I had hoped to find you asleep." She placed the back of her hand on the other woman's forehead. "It's good that your fever has gone down. Though… everything else I see tells me you still hurt."
Misery sighed. "It's better than last night when I felt as if I was being burned alive from within, but you're right… I'm not doing well. If you have any energy for healing, I would appreciate it."
"Of course. My healing magic is always yours for the asking. Same… ummm… areas as before?"
Misery shifted her legs. "Unfortunately…" she whispered while closing her eyes and turning her head the opposite direction.
A sympathetic smile formed on the elf's face. "I believe the worst of it should be over soon. After that the salve will provide sufficient relief on its own."
Misery merely grunted in response, once again silently wishing Merrill was able to heal without needing to be hands-on. Still, to a certain degree Misery had made peace with the mage's healing touch, realizing that it wasn't too high of a price when the alternatives were less effective non-magical concoctions or simply suffering through the harsh discomfort.
For Merrill's part, the role of caregiver precluded any lingering personal feelings. When the need for rather intimate healing first came up, she'd gone out of her way to explain to Misery that there was nothing to it, not even a single inappropriate thought. Yet despite Misery's verbal assurances of understanding and trust, the physical cues suggested she was uneasy at best, which left Merrill feeling equally uncomfortable. So she worked quickly in the interest of getting it over with for the both of them.
"A massage as well?" Merrill asked after finishing the series of healing spells.
Misery remained silent for a few moments before replying. "I won't ask that of you right now. It's the middle of the night and you've done enough for me to sleep a while. You should rest too."
Merrill eyed the other woman skeptically. "If your reason for declining is a belief that doing so is for my benefit, I suggest you reconsider." When Misery looked up, she continued, "If you really wish to do something for my benefit, simply allow me to help you get well as quickly as possible."
"Ma nuvenin…" Misery mumbled while rolling to her stomach. "I won't argue."
"Ma serannas." She stifled a yawn. "And it would do you no good to argue as long as I retain permission to govern your recovery."
"Fair enough… I put myself in your hands for good cause, and see no reason to change course now." Misery tugged her nightshirt over her head and tossed it aside. "Grope away…"
Merrill's sharp intake of air caused Misery to turn her head. "Sarcasm, Merrill."
"O-oh… of course." She shifted positions and began kneading Misery's upper back. "Sorry… I find it difficult not to worry that… even though… you… I…"
"Let it go," Misery said, interrupting. "Stop doubting my faith in you."
"Sorry…"
Misery sighed. "This whole… situation… is unpleasant. You know that. But the Maker as my witness, there is no one else I'd rather have helping me through it."
"It is… I'm unsure how to say it…" Merrill answered a couple of minutes later. "It's a… strange… feeling for a human to be closer to my heart than any Elvhen. I wish… I wish my clan believed in me the way you do…"
"I don't know how to answer that," Misery admitted. "There were many times since my father's death that I felt my family didn't believe in me, but it isn't quite the same. You and your people identify yourselves by your racial heritage as much as you do your clan – your family. My ancestral pride doesn't go back further than my parents, and I have no feelings about being a human as opposed to another race. So those things have never made your friendship, your trust, less meaningful to me."
Merrill's eyes grew wide at the implication. "Forgive me… I had intended a compliment, to say how much I appreciate you. But I see I only succeeded in insulting you."
Misery half sighed, half yawned. "There's nothing to apologize for. It's just who you are. And if Varric or Bethany was here, I'm certain they'd be quick to point out my own shortcomings when it comes to people."
"'It's just who you are'… I have spent much time thinking about you- I mean, about what draws me to you– Creators! That sounds… creepy… but I promise I don't mean it in that manner. I- oh, where was I? Oh, yes… what I mean to say is, you accept me for who I am. You always have. I cherish that about you. You don't attempt to bend me into the person you think I should be, or treat me as if I'm stupid for thinking differently than you."
Misery closed her eyes, uncertain if she even wanted to reply. She was well aware that Merrill was referring once again to Keeper Marethari. Then again, it wasn't very difficult to deduce when other than Misery's health, Merrill had spoken of little else since the return from Sundermount. The elf was clearly hurting over the way she'd been treated and how she'd parted with the keeper, but Misery didn't have anything more to add to what had already previously been said. And she didn't care to encourage Merrill getting riled up at this particular time of night.
"Sorry…" Merrill whispered, as if reading the human's thoughts. "I'm doing it again. I'll stop."
"There isn't much I can do about the keeper's attitude towards you, but it won't be long now until you have the Arulin'Holm. We need to be here for the party in a couple weeks, but I'm planning for us to go to Sundermount soon after that. You have my word that she won't dissuade me from giving you the tool."
"I know. And I believe that once I have the eluvian working, you'll get to see it even before I unveil it to the clan. I… I hope you understand the significance of that… of me sharing with you ancient knowledge meant only for my people… and that I wouldn't extend the same privilege to anyone else."
Misery twisted as far as she could in her current position, just enough to make eye contact. "I… I'm honored that you find me worthy," she said sincerely. "But… I'm not sure I completely understand. I know Varric has seen the eluvian, and I assume Isabela has as well. Perhaps even others have seen it. Why would it be different once you've fixed it?"
Merrill briefly contemplated how much to say before realizing there was no point in holding back if she planned to show Misery anyway. "I have told you that the great Elvhen cities in the time of Arlathan used eluvians as vessels for communication, yes? Well… there is more to it than that. The eluvians were also used to transport things, even people, between cities."
"Teleportation?" The astonishment in Misery's tone was clear.
"Yes, can you imagine the power, being able to travel from one side of Thedas to the other in an instant? I'm certain other eluvians still exist, though their whereabouts have been lost to time. My hope is that if I can just get the one working, it can be used to locate others."
Misery sat up, her lingering aches forgotten as she grabbed her shirt and put it back on. "Would they still function after all this time? What you are saying… would change the world."
"Our history says the interconnected system of eluvians broke down during the fall of Arlathan. Some fell into the hands of the Tevinter magisters, though they were unable to unlock all of their secrets. However, I believe there must be a functional one somewhere…"
Misery nodded. "I remember, you said your friend disappeared after touching it and was never found. So he might still be out there somewhere."
"Perhaps… truthfully, the possibility of finding Tamlen was as important as the eluvian itself when I first began trying to restore it. But later… something Keeper and I do see eye to eye on… I realized the eluvian was too heavily tainted. And shattering… it is doubtful Tamlen was delivered anywhere… intact."
"It might have even been a trap left by elves if they suspected it'd be humans who discovered it," Misery speculated.
"As much as I dislike that thought, you aren't wrong to suggest it," Merrill admitted. "According to Mahariel, all Tamlen did was touch it. That wouldn't have been enough to activate a properly functioning eluvian, and he wouldn't have known the rest. They didn't even know what it was."
Merrill's eyes narrowed in determination. "Neither Keeper nor I knew much about eluvians either at the time. But unlike her, I wouldn't fear its power or wish away its existence out of simple ignorance to its operation."
"I thought she was afraid that the taint from it that killed your other friend would spread to the rest of the clan?"
The elf scoffed. "She is the one who taught me the old magic I used to protect myself. She was unwilling to help cleanse the eluvian of the taint, and even after I showed her I had accomplished that without her, she still condemned it as being too dangerous."
Misery ran her fingers through her hair. "I have to be missing something here. Obviously I don't know Keeper Marethari as you do, but this sounds so… unreasonable of her, and I haven't known her to be that way."
A nearby cough caused both women to turn their heads toward the door. "My apologies for the intrusion," Leandra said while fully entering the room. "I didn't wish to interrupt your rather animated conversation."
"H-how much did you hear?" Merrill asked.
"Only the part about a tainted… I didn't recognize the word… killing a friend of yours and your keeper disagreeing with you over preserving whatever it is."
"I'm sorry if we woke you," Misery said.
Leandra waved a hand to indicate it was of no concern. "If I may… your keeper is essentially a mother to you in function, if not in name, correct?" When Merrill nodded, she continued, "As a stubborn old woman myself, I can say this… it is not an easy thing, admitting to your child that you were wrong about something… often, even in the face of evidence to the contrary, it is easier to rationalize that you're still correct than it is to admit – either to yourself or to others – that your child knew better than you."
"But-" Merrill began, but Leandra cut her off.
"It isn't right," she said knowingly. "No one should believe they always know what's best, that they have all the answers. However, I know… painfully well… that it isn't a far leap from desiring to be helpful to feeling the need to give your opinion on every matter to believing your opinions are unassailable truth."
Merrill sighed rather bitterly. "Everyone goes to her for answers, even for things that are supposed to be her first's responsibility. She is wise… very wise… I know that. But it is as you say. I have never been able to disagree with her on a matter without being made to suffer for it until I gave up and did what she wanted."
Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Misery couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "I'm laughing," she explained, "because until recently you could have just as easily been describing my life."
Leandra shook her head at her daughter. "You're hardly one to give an inch either, which never helped matters. I often felt that you resisted my counsel simply for the sake of resisting, which in hindsight I believe contributed greatly to me pushing you harder than your brother and sister."
"I wasn't implying that I was without fault," Misery answered. "Only saying that I could relate to how Merrill feels. We've moved past that though."
The older woman nodded. "Yes, we are finally speaking to each other rather than merely at each other." She turned her attention back to Merrill. "If two women cursed with the Hawke stubbornness can reinvent their relationship, perhaps hope is not lost for you and your keeper."
"Perhaps…" Merrill echoed softly. "It is difficult to see that right now."
Leandra placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Remember years ago when you and I replanted the flower garden? We had to tear out the years of neglect in order to sow new seed, and there was nothing to see for some time afterward. Faith was all we had – faith that if we continued our efforts, nurtured the garden, it would blossom into something beautiful."
"I understand. Ma serannas." Merrill sighed. "Though I wish it was as easy as pouring water on her head."
Leandra struggled not to laugh, a task made more difficult by her daughter's giggles. "That would certainly get her attention, but I wouldn't recommend doing so. Speaking of the garden, it's been some time since we've worked on it together and I need to do some weeding. Would you care to join me in the morning, perhaps after breakfast? Assuming of course you aren't busy with her, or simply in need of rest."
The elf's expression perked up slightly. "That sounds nice, actually."
Nodding, Leandra replied, "Well, I'll leave you two so you can finish up and return to bed. Good night."
After the older woman left, Misery turned to Merrill. "The eluvian… maybe no one would steal it from your home while it only appears to be a broken mirror with no reflection, but even then it doesn't feel particularly safe there to me. And when you get it fully functional… the power… it's on a world changing level… for good or bad. It can't fall into the wrong hands."
"No one would survive an attempt to remove it from its spot. I have ensured as much. Oh, I ummm… probably should have mentioned this before, but… if something ever happens to me, know that a keeper's magic is necessary to unbind it. Any keeper or a trained first will understand what is meant by that. Otherwise trying to move it would be… lethal. To you anyway… not to the eluvian. It would be fine other than probably needing a good washing."
"Ahhh… yeah… that's kind of an important detail... I suppose it's as safe as it's going to be for now then. And with as much as I have swirling around me, the eluvian is probably still safer at your place than it would be here. Once you do get it working though, I think we need to get it out of Kirkwall as quickly as possible. We'll also need a contingency plan in case Keeper Marethari won't allow it to remain with your clan."
All of a sudden it hit Merrill, and she began to blink rapidly while her breathing became uneven.
"Merrill?"
The elf responded by bowling Misery over, burying her face into the crook of the rogue's neck and letting the tears flow.
"M-Merrill?" Misery asked again after barely overcoming the instinct to use her attacker's momentum and throw her off on to the floor.
She didn't answer for a couple of minutes, much to the chagrin of the bewildered Misery. Once Merrill did regain a bit of composure, she hoarsely whispered, "I'm sorry, it just came over me that you… I have never had someone to share this with… no one who cared enough to understand what I'm trying to do, or who believed I can do it. You don't know how much this means to me."
Misery sighed, allowing herself to relax somewhat even with Merrill still clinging to her. Silence set in, and her thoughts turned inward, remembering the numerous times in her life when Bethany had melted down on her in similar fashion. The gaping hole in her heart from the loss of her sister had shrunk over time, but the hole remained nevertheless, and the memories briefly struck a pang of sorrow.
Despite her experience with this very situation, Misery never really knew what to say. She wasn't one for trite words of comfort and wasn't good at coming up with anything meaningful. So she did what she usually did, lay silently waiting for the emotion to run its course.
With her hand on Merrill's back, she could tell that the elf's breathing had calmed, and the thought came to mind to sarcastically suggest that Merrill not fall asleep on her, lest Mother have a heart attack if she came back later and found them like this. She held her tongue though, in part because Merrill was terrible at interpreting sarcasm as it was intended, and in part because she didn't truly believe the elf would actually let herself fall asleep in this position.
A few minutes later it became clear that she was wrong about the latter.
Under the circumstances – the middle of the night, being exhausted herself and knowing Merrill had been expending a lot of herself to help her, Misery gave up thinking about extracting herself from what was now less of an embrace and more of a leg and arm draped loosely over her torso, and resigned herself to just letting Merrill have this.
That didn't stop her from grumbling about it to herself though as she reached for the corner of the comforter and pulled it over them.
-==0==-
"What's that again?" Varric asked in an annoyed tone from the sudden interruption causing him to forget the numbers he was calculating. "She's doing what now?"
The teen boy standing before him was one of a number of information runners around the city, people who scrapped out a living by selling information to interested buyers. The better ones not only didn't wait for their clients to come to them, but also took the time to understand what their clients were interested in. Even trivial information could be worth a few coppers to the right person if it was timely.
"Hawke's gone crazy… runnin' up and down the Great Stairs, hoppin' around like she got ants in her britches. Some folks were laughin' at her… least 'til she pulled a pair of blades and chased 'em off."
Varric rubbed his face in equal parts irritation and consternation. He glanced down at the ledger on his table, which he'd spent all morning trying to balance after weeks of neglect. With an exasperated sigh he capped his ink and stood.
"Where's she now?"
"Still there far's I know," the boy answered.
"Thanks for letting me know." Varric dug a silver out of his pocket and flipped it to the boy.
He noted the surprised expression indicating the boy had expected a smaller payout, but didn't feel the need to explain. The coin itself stated that Hawke information was worth a premium to him. Instead, he turned and grabbed his duster and Bianca off the wall.
"Come on, girl," he muttered to his crossbow. "Let's go see what this is about."
-==0==-
The dwarf's pace quickened when his eyes locked in on Misery sprawled on a bench near the stairs leading up to Hightown. As he got closer it became apparent that she was wheezing, struggling to breathe. The only thing preventing his concern from causing his own heart rate to shoot through the roof was the glaring contradiction of a thoroughly disinterested mabari lying on the ground next to the bench.
Varric was even less sure what to make of the scene when Revas barked to acknowledge him and then immediately yawned. "Misery? What's wrong?"
The sweat-soaked rogue didn't speak right away. Instead she tapped the bench and then held up two fingers to say he should sit down and give her a couple of minutes to catch her breath. Realizing that her response meant she wasn't out of her mind crazy like the runner had suggested, Varric relaxed, and pushed her feet out of the way in order to sit down.
Casually observing her, Varric noticed that despite the appearance of physical distress, a small grin and her eyes practically gleaming – at least when they were open – suggested she was in good spirits. He couldn't help but smile himself. It'd been awhile since her mood was anything other than serious, somber, or surly.
He hadn't seen her in the week since dropping off the saar-qamek antidote, though he knew from Daisy that Misery had been symptom free for two or three days. Upon learning what the recovery would entail, Misery declared that she didn't want to see anyone until she'd gotten through it. Although she'd acquiesced to her mother's wishes for her to accept Merrill's offer of staying and assisting her, she drew the line there.
Despite his concern for her, Varric understood the situation and didn't take being excluded personally. He also had more than enough business of his own to keep him busy, so he was content to stay informed of her progress from afar, while knowing she'd either send for him or come see him when she was ready.
"H-hey…" Misery finally said a few minutes later, nudging his leg with her boot.
"What happened?"
"There's the distinct possibility that I kind of maybe tried to do too much… maybe went just a tiny bit too far past my limit…" She stifled a laugh before adding, "Definitely maybe."
He raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm… you seem rather giddy about that. I'm almost scared to ask what you were actually doing, though I'll at least venture a guess that resting on a public bench means it didn't involve dead bodies somewhere nearby."
"And if it did?"
"Did it?"
"No… I'm just happy… grateful… to feel well again. I wasn't certain it would ever happen. Though… don't be surprised if the Guard approaches me for questioning. A few people ran off screaming when I was swinging my blades."
She continued her explanation when a quizzical stare was the only response she got. "Trying to get my legs and lungs back. I don't know if it was the saar-qamek, the inactivity it forced me into, or both, but even though I feel well, my strength and endurance aren't what they were. I was disturbing Mother running through the estate, and bored of slashing straw dummies in the cellar, so I decided to move my practice outside. Mostly I've been running the stairs back and forth between Hightown and Lowtown, but also mixed in some jumping in place and shadow fighting."
He chuckled. "In other words, you went from disturbing your mother to having half of Kirkwall thinking you're disturbed."
"Have you seen the letters asking for help stacked up on my writing desk? If it gets people to leave me alone, I'm alright with that."
"Bah, I know you, Miz. As much as you try to hide it, you like being needed. And how else are you going to spend your days?"
Her expression sobered. "We need to discuss that actually… but not here. I got roped into handling a delicate situation while you were away. I promised Merrill a Sundermount trip after Mother's party next week, so we'll probably leave in about ten days' time. After we're back though, this other thing is going to consume most of my time for a while."
"Intriguing, to say the least. Wanna go back to my place to talk shop?"
"No, I have several errands to attend to, and I know I won't get them done if we sit down and talk."
Varric laughed. "Because clearly we aren't sitting and talking right now?"
"You know what I mean. You get me in your room, get a couple of ales in me, I lose all track of time, and next thing I know you're offering me your bed instead of having me walk home late at night."
"Wow… I think it's possible that if you tried harder you could've made me sound a little seedier."
She laughed at the grin cracking through his attempt at appearing indignant. "And yet you didn't actually protest the truth, did you?"
"Mmm… you got me there."
Once the shared laughter faded, she asked, "Are you busy? I really do want to talk. I just also really need to do my errands."
"Oh, I suppose I can rearrange my schedule for you. Would hardly be the first time."
She nodded. "Thank-"
"Misery!" a nearby female voice exclaimed. The rogue turned her head to see Merrill and Isabela approaching.
"Did we miss the excitement?" Isabela asked.
"Excitement?" Misery replied.
"Apparently some loon was making a big scene over this way, but I guess they're gone already."
Merrill nodded. "We overheard people gossiping about a crazy woman running around fighting imaginary monsters. I thought whoever it was might be possessed."
Misery's attempt to feign innocence was derailed by the fit of laughter from the dwarf next to her. She sighed and repeated her explanation of the situation.
"I see…" Merrill said. "Your practice was misunderstood then." She stepped closer and hugged the rogue. "Still, I'm glad you are nearly yourself again."
Misery didn't exactly return the embrace, but didn't push the elf away either, something Isabela found amusing.
"Hey, Varric," she began. "Did you hear? We both lost the bet."
"Bet?"
"Oh, you remember… who would see Hawke naked first? Kitten beat us both to it."
Misery immediately pulled back and stared at Merrill, who blushed under the uncomfortable glare. "Sh-she was teasing about me t-taking care of you… I didn't… didn't speak any d-details. I swear this to you."
Misery bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She settled on a curt nod and turned her glare on Varric.
"Relax, Miz," he said with the wave of a hand. "It was one of those dumb drunken wagers years ago. To tell you the truth, I'd forgotten about it until Rivaini just brought it up."
"What?" Isabela asked when Misery looked to her. "It's all in good fun. And you're not the only one we've played this game with."
Misery shook her head. "I don't know why I expected my privacy to be respected. Fine… since you want to know so badly… Merrill was with me in the days I practically wore out a path between the chamber pot and the bath. She also aided me with her healing, and I seriously doubt you need to stretch your imagination very far to guess the places her fingers have been."
While Merrill continued to blush and Varric didn't seem inclined to say anything, Isabela tsked her fellow rogue. "Really, Hawke? That's just too much information, don't you think?"
Misery opened her mouth, but then closed it without saying anything. The Rivaini laughed at the response, or lack thereof.
"Come on, kitten, looks like there's nothing to see here. Let's go back to the Bazaar and finish your shopping."
"O-oh… o-okay," the elf said weakly. She turned to Misery. "I… ummm…"
"We're fine," Misery said, cutting her off. "Don't worry about it."
"Of course… ma serannas. I will come see you tomorrow."
After the other two women left, Varric chuckled. "I suppose that was one way to get Rivaini to back off."
Misery answered with an unrelated question. "Are you ready? Everything I need to do is up in Hightown."
"Sure… where are we off to?" he asked as they began walking.
"I'll probably start with Fenris. I need to ask him if he'll work Mother's party for me."
"Wait, what? Fenris? You're going to ask Fenris to be a servant?"
"Something like that. Elven servants are commonplace in noble estates, and are basically unseen at these things other than when people are looking for refreshments."
Varric continued to stare in disbelief. "Even if you ignore the fact that those brandings of his are the opposite of inconspicuous, this is Fenris we're talking about. You know, former slave and just a wee bit sensitive about it? I'm pretty sure he's mentioned it a time or two over the years."
"The brandings won't matter. I chose a masquerade specifically so Merrill and Fenris could cover their distinguishing features. She's already agreed to help. But no, Varric, their purpose is more than being servants. I don't know everyone being invited, and even if Mother does, with all the shit swirling around me I'm not convinced there won't be enemies of mine in attendance. As I said, elven servants are largely unseen, and I need people I trust to observe what I can't myself."
"Ahhh… sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm sure the broody elf will agree, but I'd suggest you reverse how you present it. Ask him to be a spy first, then explain posing in the role of a servant. That'll take the edge off his reaction."
Misery nodded. "You're better at this stuff than I am… thanks."
He laughed it off before sarcastically asking, "So… do you have a role for me in this scheme of yours?"
She didn't answer right away, which sent his mind racing through the possibilities for why she didn't. After nearly a minute elapsed with no response, he started to answer his own question. "I'm guessing by the silence that the answ-"
In the blink of an eye, Misery reached over and clamped her hand over his mouth. "Don't," was her simple, matter-of-fact warning.
She released him a few seconds later and sighed. "I've made a decision… I would… I would like you to accompany me, to be at my side."
Varric's reaction was tempered by the lack of warmth in her tone. Despite the declaration, she appeared conflicted.
"Well, you know that's what I want, no questions there. You don't exactly sound sold on it though."
"It's… difficult. Mother doesn't approve. She's already said she won't stand in my way if this is what I truly want, but she's also made it clear that she won't be happy with it. My relationship with her has improved so much since I've been back… we've never been closer… I'm hesitant to possibly drive a new wedge between us. I'm struggling with how to balance both her wishes and my own."
"Ahhh. Mama Hawke is always cordial to me, but I guess in the end I'm still a Lowtown dwarf who isn't good enough for her daughter. Being Bartrand's little brother can't help either."
"Yeah… though she never blamed Bartrand for what happened to Bethany. I don't agree with her, but she's said that even without his betrayal, the Deep Roads are more than dangerous enough for anything to have happened. Mother respects you, appreciates what you've done for Bethany and me. So it isn't anything personal, it's the dwarf thing."
"Not exactly something that can be changed even if I wanted to. Which it isn't," he grumbled.
Misery sighed. "You know her background, it should hardly be a surprise that she thinks the way she does. You also damned well better know that your race is irrelevant to me."
Varric recognized the tone, the personality trait both she and Bethany shared that made them fiercely defensive of their family members even when they disagreed with them. That was a brick wall that wouldn't give no matter how many times he banged his head against it. Still, he was irritated enough to put Misery on the spot.
"So what are your intentions here then?" he asked, gesturing back and forth between the two of them.
She ran her fingers through her hair, willing herself not to match his frustration and turn this into an argument. "My intention is to… try. To try to be conscious of her feelings without being unfair to yours, while at the same time not ignoring what I need from both of you. And if you ask how I'm going to accomplish all that… I have no idea. It will probably be slower than you'd like. I've always been far better at burning bridges than building them."
"Fair enough…" Varric relented after a short pause. "Just promise you'll communicate, alright? Don't leave me in the dark, guessing at where we stand. And don't wait until shit blows up to let me know there's a problem. Don't think you have to figure out everything on your own. We're in this together."
The seemingly reasonable request didn't go over well with the female rogue. "Do you rehearse this little lecture, or does it just come naturally?"
"Really? That's where you want to go with it?"
"Varric, it's the same song I've heard over and over, just a different refrain. Come to think of it, I'll even bet you could rearrange the words a bit and throw in some rhymes and have the makings of one of those annoying tavern bard ballads."
"Ouch… I'd ask why you don't just kick me in the balls while you're at it, except you might actually take me up on it. You're evil, you know that?"
"It's on my list of shortcomings. Thought you knew already what you were signing up for."
She stared at him a moment longer before her expression softened. "Look… I understand. I just thought it'd be obvious that I have been trying. Ever since that day we met Sabrina and then you and Merrill figured out what was wrong with me, I've put a lot of effort into being more open, more forthcoming with you two. If you can't see that anything has changed… I-I just don't know how you'll ever be satisfied."
Varric briefly contemplated it before nodding. "I see it. My point was only that you can lean on me at any time, without hesitation. Didn't mean for you to interpret it as another lecture." He reminded himself that for as sharp as Misery was, there were still times like this when she clearly struggled to understand people and reacted poorly as a result.
"So…" she began, abruptly changing the subject. "You'll be my escort at Mother's party?"
"As if you even have to ask. Do I get to dance with you? It's been a while, but I know my way around the standards."
Misery recognized the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. She winked. "You'd better. I only recently discovered that's my favorite part of these things. And I'll warn you in advance, Sebastian set the dance partner bar very high. You've got your work cut out for you if you plan to top him."
"Note to self: schedule ample time this week to get the rust out." He laughed.
"Well…" she said, "I wouldn't object to practicing with you beforehand. Our height difference is of no concern to me, but I'm uncertain how to accommodate it. I don't actually have much experience with dancing. I don't even know all the standards myself."
"Good thinking. In some of the dances, the positions would be anywhere from awkward to outright impossible without adjustments. I'll give those some thought, but yeah, I'll take you up on the offer. Besides, I know how these social occasions work, and don't want us flailing around and being an embarrassment for Mama Hawke."
"Thanks, V, for thinking about that. I hadn't."
Varric nodded. He wasn't going to elaborate, but his reasons went even further. Even though Misery had indicated that their relationship wouldn't necessarily be contingent upon Mama Hawke's approval, gaining that approval would smooth out the road ahead considerably. The gears were already turning, his mind sifting through ideas to win over the Hawke matriarch. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he was up for the challenge.
AN: I realize Aveline's quest is rather tame to this point as compared to in-game. But even without Misery's health issues, she's just not the type of Hawke that would go along with the way the quest plays out in the game. So, I'm trying to do something different that also ties in with other upcoming plot threads. We'll see if it works out :)