Author's Note: Thanks to faejilly for encouraging me to keep tightening this chapter. Wouldn't be the same without you. Thanks to you readers for keeping with me during the unexpected hiatus. We have a few chapters in the pipe, now!
As Bethany and Fenris worked their way through the market stalls, they were forced to step lively, avoiding the construction of the temporary structures that heralded the coming market day and the younger folk darting in and out among the carts and half-built stands running errands and pretending to run errands so as to avoid actually having to do so. At every pause, Bethany listened in growing surprise to discover the details Fenris seemed to know about his companions.
Hawke would want this knife oil with the nearly nonexistent scent, not that one, being too pungent. Varric would accept this beeswax polish lightly diluted with sweet oil but not the other as lavender was too astringent for Bianca. Sebastian had been shifting the quiver on his shoulder since they left the prison and clearly needed a bit of sheepskin padding to replace the one that had been singed in the fire. She followed along, tucking his purchases into her shopping basket, a small smile on her face at his careful shopping.
The tanner's boy who sold them Sebastian's padding told them that the merchants for the monthly market day would be coming into Tellend by tomorrow and they'd have more of a chance to unload the weaponry they'd looted. "Just not much of a call for it, local. The Templars get their own stuff in, usually."
In the shop across the square, she hid a smile by ordering the dry goods from a bug-eyed clerk, all neck and elbows, as Fenris haggled with the woman behind the counter of the general goods shop.
"That would perhaps pass as a whetstone in Orlais where men sharpen their tongues instead of their blades, but I am in need of something of better quality."
His put upon sigh was rather funny, as well. Oh dear, she mocked herself. Get a hold of yourself. Don't giggle at him, you aren't actually a schoolgirl any longer.
With an eyebrow raised at what Bethany was sure was something of a strangled expression, Fenris bowed to her. "Let us go. I will wait until the other merchants arrive."
"Oh, alright. You know, you elf lot are usually less quibbly about a bit of sharpstone." The old woman grumped but she pulled out a box that clearly met Fenris' high standards as he set to picking out one for himself and another for Aeryn, a pleased smirk curling the edge of his mouth. Bethany stifled the pent up giggle as the clerk filled one small cloth bag with spicy tea leaves and another with sugar. None of them had enjoyed the last two days of marching without a morning cup and there wasn't much in the way of palatable herbage on the road they found themselves upon.
Back outside, in the murky half-light of the early falling evening, they took a few steps when Fenris flung an arm up to shield Bethany from a tumble. Forced to stop precariously on the edge of the wooden planking as a load of baskets was pulled haltingly across their path in an adapted handcart by a reluctant pony. They stepped back onto the porch of the shop to avoid the splash of icy muck and in their pause, Bethany asked, "Do you think we'll stay overnight?"
"It is hard to say. I know Hawke meant to be moving again." He peered at the list Bethany had handed him, written in Aeryn's neatly sloping script, familiar enough now. "However, we could use a few more supplies."
"And a night's rest." Bethany's feet were aching in her boots and she wiggled her toes, regretfully. She should have taken the cobbler's advice and taken the thicker soles, despite the heavier tread.
Fenris nodded, agreeing. They watched the basket cart maneuver into a slot near the general goods store, splashing the brick wall with a new coating of grey mud and proceeded, cautiously.
There were a few brilliantly colored scarves tied around the pole of a cart full of dried ginger and other roots and mushrooms and Bethany stopped to finger the finely woven wool.
"Those're woven by the Widow Mavis, down the road aways. She's got good nimble fingers, for all she's next to blind," the merchant, a beanpole of a fellow with fingers starting to gnarl with cold and joint-ail, said around a stalk of wheatstraw. "I bring 'em to town for her."
"She'd like this better than my old scarf, don't you think?" The one Bethany had let Aeryn borrow was a treasure she'd carried from Lothering, faded now with a hundred washings. But it was the last of her things she'd kept, from Lothering. Aeryn would be careful, of course, but...
Fenris eyed the colors and tugged at the end of the darker blue with a deep red paisley pattern. "This one, I think."
"Oh, that's lovely." Bethany looked at the little tag and bit her lip. Aeryn had scolded her a couple of times in Ferelden for stinting herself. "Buy what you want. We've coin to spare." But, then, Aeryn almost never bought anything, either.
Fenris saw her hesitate. "I've a bit extra, if you haven't enough."
Making up her mind, she untied it. "No. I've plenty, thanks."
As she counted coppers into the merchant's hand, Fenris watched her. She seemed to have mostly recovered from her exertions to heal Hawke. The color that bloomed in her cheeks as they worked was reassuring, but she had a limp beginning to show. The boots she wore were warm, but perhaps ill fitting. Hmm. He'd have to point it out to Hawke if the rogue didn't see it herself.
"Still, I know Sebastian wants to get to Starkhaven quickly." Packing the scarf and two gingerroots into her hip pouch, Bethany picked up the trail of their conversation as they picked their way across the muddy track. She hid a smile at Fenris' fussy step.
"Hmm." Fenris had his doubts about that, actually. They were not proceeding on anything like a frontal assault. "I'm not entirely sure he's as eager as he makes out to be. Even with the plan of a circular movement in, our first foray seems to be leading somewhere other than the city itself. Perhaps he dreads it more than he lets on."
"I suppose that the idea of taking up a throne could be too daunting." She searched the elf's dark profile before she asked," And you...are you looking forward to it?"
His eyebrows flew up, but Fenris answered willingly enough, "I am looking forward to being of aid to Hawke and Sebastian. To return the favor of their friendship. But...then I will have to decide what to do for myself."
"You don't mean to stay? In Starkhaven."
Shrugging, Fenris tried to answer her honestly,"I do not know. I...had not thought what to do once I was free of Danarius. Then, events changed so quickly that I was taken by surprise before I could consider my...future." Bethany lips tilted at the corner when he paused. On Hawke's face, he thought, that tilt would be a conspiratorial smirk but Bethany's softer features turned the expression to that of understanding. "I came along because they wished it of me and because I wanted to help. Once the task is done, if it is done well...I do not know. I am considering my options." He looked just a little bewildered.
"It's rather startling having options, isn't it?" She smiled at him winningly. Fenris had to laugh and when the warm sound turned heads in the square he tamped down the impulse to scowl at them, to hunch his back. He was allowed to laugh, to stand tall as Hawke and Isabela had told him time and again. And, ah. It had made Bethany giggle.
"Indeed." He paused beside the fountain, the water sparkling in the sudden bright sun that had pierced the thin veil of cloud above and a warmth that was more promise than fact spread out over the bustling square . "And yourself?"
She hesitated, the giggle fading under the splash of water. Sebastian was good, kind. Aeryn loved him, trusted him beyond all measure and Bethany had meant it when she called him a brother. But there was always going to be her magic in the background. She couldn't let it become a problem. "A lot of what happens to me will depend on what Sebastian decides to do with us...my sort. I mean...I don't think he'll be cruel, not at all but... we've discussed the idea of a new... " She spun her finger around in a circle and Fenris nodded, catching her meaning. This wasn't the best place for a discussion. "What he and Aeryn describe...perhaps. It's a whole new life, but I just...don't know." Ugh...she sounded so vague. Shaking herself and drawing her shoulders up, she continued, "I know what I want to do. I want to live quietly somewhere. To be finished with being hunted. To be useful. To have a place." She searched his impossible eyes and finished, "Do you know what I mean?"
"I do." Her forehead wrinkled, the warm brown of her eyes dimmed and Fenris was considering how to reassure her when he caught a flash of color and the world shifted abruptly.
"OH!" Bethany stumbled only to find herself hauled back upright by the waist. She was calling up mana, half of a repel spoken before she recognized her old faded scarf wrapped cunningly around Aeryn's head.
"Hullo, there!" Hawke had thrown her arm around Bethany's waist with almost her whole weight and then spun her around before linking arms with Fenris.
He'd seen his partner a blink before she'd fallen upon them, though not before he could rescue Bethany from the hug. "Hello, Hawke," he sighed.
"Aeryn!" Bethany hissed at her. "You horrid menace! You almost got yourself flung across the square!"
"Ah, nonsense, You've better reflexes than that! Let's get a drink before Varric downs the lot, shall we?" Her eyes were fever-bright and sharp and Fenris glanced behind them to find Sebastian, with a harried expression on his face, catching up.
It was a familiar enough sight from times past that Fenris had to laugh again.
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A drink or two later and a bowl of stew that was reasonably believable as rabbit as advertised, rather than rat, found Aeryn settled down next to Varric, now lovingly sharpening the quills that Bethany had laid before him like a found treasure. Sebastian eyed her now and again, across the table as she laid the feathers straight and then at angles and then again at opposite angles until Varric set his hand across hers with a quelling sort of raised eyebrow, "Hawke."
"Sorry, Varric." Instead she took up a cup of the sharp cider that Varric had ordered for her and from behind the rim of the cup, observed her crew.
There were still signs of weariness and lingering battlescars on her companions' faces. Deep lines grooved on either side of Fenris' mouth. A tiny tremor in Bethany's fingers as she dealt...and also a tilt in her upright figure, towards Fenris' lean frame as if she was considering edging against him. Varric, pausing from his work, was flexing the fingers on his left hand as if they ached. Sebastian's lips, normally soft and relaxed, were thin and his elegant eyebrows were drawn as if he was suppressing a headache. At the moment, he was rubbing them and she twitched, wanting to smooth away the pain. But guards didn't usually give out massages and they were still playing that angle.
If she was honest, Aeryn could feel the niggling sense of exhaustion numbing her own fingertips, dulling the raised pattern carved in the clay of her tumbler. In Kirkwall, she'd been used to naps after sleepless nights. Was there any reason to rush down the road, when they had the gratitude of the town and no sense of danger? She drank her cup off and stacked it on top of Varric's tumbler. "I promised you a night off at the next tavern, didn't I?"
"Two, even." Varric nodded.
"Can't do two, but for tonight will this place meet your approval?"
Varric leaned back in his chair, a nice glow from the barkeep's hoppy beer on his cheeks. "Well, the serving maids are too tall and the wicked grace table is a little slow. But the ale is good enough."
"Are we staying, then?" Sebastian asked, startled, and she shrugged.
"No reason to rush when we need the time off. We can't leave Cleve until we've met with the Bann and arranged things on his end and there's no way he's going to be there before week's end even if the weather holds. Which it won't, this time of year. If everyone agrees?"
Fenris nodded slowly. "We would be more likely to get a decent price for the gear at the full market tomorrow and that would keep us from hauling it farther."
"Beth?"
"It's a little close for total comfort. But so long as we aren't attacked and we take a precaution or two…" Bethany reached out and tapped the lyrium on the back of Fenris' hand, making the elf startle, his hand lifting up from the scarred wooden table. Their eyes met a moment and when Bethany glanced back at her sister, Aeryn was nodding.
"Yeah, Fenris can keep what's left of our stash." Having lyrium potions in a place with so many Templars probably wasn't the best idea. Fenris' markings were a distraction, but not a guarantee that a sensitive person wouldn't fish them out.
"Well, then." Bethany nodded, "I'd like to see the market, too. There are a few things I could use."
"There wasn't much of a selection of arrowheads at the smith." Fenris told their two archers.
"I really would prefer not to go too much further without more than a handful of arrows." Sebastian agreed and Aeryn spread her hands acceptingly.
"Then that's settled. Shall we arrange rooms?"
There was a snag, though, when Varric tried to set them up for the evening. The innkeep shook his bald head and twitched broad shoulders starting to run to fat, apologetically. "We generally have the room, serah, but with the market…I've only two rooms anyway and now they'd just be for the night."
"Damn…well..."
"Serah? Did I hear you say you needed a place to stay?" An elder lay sister, one of those who'd been listening on the edges while they were conferring at the Chantry, was waiting at the bar. Aeryn had heard her ask the barman for small ale and, though he'd brought it out promptly, the older woman had lingered, throwing them glances for the last minutes. She plucked at Sebastian's sleeve. "Please, Mother Maris was hoping to find a way to repay your efforts on Tellend's behalf. I'm sure she'd be pleased to offer you shelter for the night."
Aeryn answered bluntly before he could dismiss the suggestion gently. "No thank you, Sister."
"Oh, please. We have plenty of room and travelers always have wonderful tales." Her eyes, creased about with years but still a bright green, were shining up at him and Sebastian couldn't help the memory that washed over him. It had always been a special treat to have travelers come through to share their stories of the outside world.
"Ah…"
"We can't take rooms meant for the indigent." Curt, Aeryn shook her head as she swung her leg back over the bench to lean back with her elbows against the dull polish of the bar.
Aeryn moved, the wistful recollection drifting across Sebastian's face sending her scrambling to tamp down the rush of jealousy that spiraled up her spine like chokevine. He turned to her, his eyes flashing sparks and clearly about to ask her to reconsider. Before he could though, she caught Bethany's ducked head and the way her sister had pressed back out of the firelight. Bitterness flooded her mouth as she coolly told him, "Of course, you are welcome to sleep where you like, Messere. Perhaps you prefer the shelter of the Chantry's arms over a tavern. You've no need of a guard there, surely, and we can have a night off."
"That's not what this is about," he chided, a hint of anger coloring the thin skin over his cheekbones. "It behooves us to keep good counsel with the Chantry."
"We could use the information. I agree completely." Aeryn flipped her hand up in a casual dismissal and glanced around the room, pressing back sullenness and forcing an aloofness that was almost beyond her for once. You can't possibly be jealous of a bunch of cloistered old women. But she was. Sodding Void, he's allowed to have his good memories, you bitter twit. Not to mention that Bethany was perfectly safe, here at the tavern.
Sebastian felt his jaw clench, teeth scraping together in a way that was like to make his head ache later. Between her high handedness earlier and this now, he was fighting his own temper. He bowed to the lay sister, "I am sorry, Sister. I prefer not to divide our company. But please, allow me to help you with your cask back to the Chantry."
"Oh, you don't have to…"
"I insist." He didn't glance back as he hefted the small barrel and followed the woman outside as she fluttered, holding the door for him as he stalked into the slap of the damp, frigid night.
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Back at the bar, Fenris was shaking his head. "You are a brat, Hawke." He said it in a low tone and glancing at the tavern door with concern.
It took a tick to drag her eyes from the door that had closed behind him. "He knew it when he took me on, too." She waved the barmaid over for a refill. The tall, slender woman gave her a wink and Aeryn redirected shock into an answering smirk that crawled across her lips.
"Aeryn…" Bethany looked worried.
"I don't want to hear it. It was a bad idea, all round." stupid, stupid thing to say. Bloody Void you stupid...she forced her eyes to look towards Bethany, trying to shake off the clutch of ice in her chest.
"He's going to come back angry and you'll deserve it." Bethany's worry had turned to to a bite, seeing Aeryn's blank face and the scrawl of a halfsmile telling lies. "He was only being polite."
Varric finished off the pint he'd ordered with his last whiskey. "If he comes back. Chant's about to start."
Aeryn cut a look at him, but there wasn't any sympathy for her in the dwarf's turned shoulder and now Fenris was sharing a look with her sister. If she spent the night alone her companions would think it a fine thing, clearly. of all the things to cut up over you deserve what you get Turning away from them, she cast her eyes over the warmly lit, crowded dining room, instead.
Payday, just before the market, clearly and the noise was jocular and the ripening smell of warm bodies and ale filled the room. A fairly talented bard piped in the corner, a lilting tune under the hum of conversation. Two young women, seamstresses if Aeryn judged the premature fine lines around their eyes and the unusually fine stitching of their own dresses, were finishing a shared supper, the edges of one purse poking out from the pockets of an apron thrown casually across the back of the chair. A handful of men were leaning against the bar...all of them had casually stuffed change into pockets with seams easily split. One had taken off a ring when he'd come in, and wrapped it in a handkerchief to slip in the loose top of his boot..
His florid complexion likely just meant his hands were swelling in the warm room after a day at work in the cold. Still, he'd be in trouble if he lost it. She was almost inclined to see how much.
Isabela would have laughed at Aeryn sniping at Sebastian, that darkly amused rich chuckle and then pointed out that purse on a too slim string on the tanner's fine belt with an eyebrow raised in a dare and suddenly Aeryn felt more alone than she'd been in years.
Coin flashed as one farmer lad with a shock of ginger hair bought a drink for the bard, happily playing her pipes over the dull roar of the patrons. She flashed a promising, crooked toothed grin at him, making him blush.
Maker, this was a lush pick.
Aeryn's fingers itched and she flexed them in her pocket to close around the cool carved disk she'd carried like a talisman the last weeks. Only to tense, guiltily, when the barman leaned over the planks with his pitcher and frowned at her.
"Didn't mean to cause troubles with your boss, serah."
"It wasn't you causing the trouble." She pulled the earring out and ran it over the back of her fingers. "I ought to keep a better rein on my tongue, is all. Cost me a job or two, before."
"Well, no, I guess I can't claim the blame but I might can fix it. My other maid is gone for a day or two, with her sister for a laying in. You're welcome to her room, if you don't mind it being on the smallish side."
"You don't have to…"
"Not out of the kindness of my heart, now mind. I'll charge the going rate. Judging by that armor, and the drink you've slung, you all aren't looking for charity."
She hesitated before ducking her head, "Alright. Thanks. She stacked another four silvers for him to sweep away.
"Finnegin of Finnegin's Fine Tavern and Traveller's Rest, at your service."
Aeryn dropped a slight curtsy and spun up her roguish smile, "Aeryn." She pointed the rest out, "M'sister Beth. Our fellows at arms, Fen and Varric." It had been a long time since she'd casually given out her given name, but Finnegin would remember if she didn't give him something and they were still too close to Kirkwall for either Amell or Hawke. On her own, she'd have used an alias...but they were too many to force them all to recall it.
"Nice to meet you. The two standard rooms are to the left at the top of the stairs. And Bitsy's room is over the kitchen, just go all the way down the hall and bear right. It's small but she's neat."
Varric toasted the barkeep. "Our thanks for the extra room."
"Well, have to do our part. Them bandits were bad for business, anyway. This is the best crowd I've had in weeks." Polishing up the smeary wax on his bartop with his glass cloth, he grinned at her and then cast his eye over her friends. "Nice additions to the scenery, too. Even that nobleman of yours...something about him's familiar. Like...he's a face I've seen before."
"He has family around here, so I'm told."
Varric was about to launch another rumor when a peal of music rang out. The bells from the Chantry were muffled in the damp air, but Aeryn was grateful to the sound that reverberated even in the jolly noise of the tavern. Varric was right, Sebastian would stay. Hopefully it would soften his anger-hurt-at her sniping. Not only that, it seemed to have jarred Finnegin from his reverie and saved her from any more definite statement.
The barman stood up and, with a deep wheezy breath, called out, "There's the bells, folks! Them of you going to Chant better head out. Don't want the Sisters to tithe me so hard for late hours that I can't buy the good stuff! Janie! Where d'you think you're goin'?"
The tall, slender barmaid waved her hand as she hooked her arm through a burly smith's elbow, the brown homespun apron already on a hook by the door.
"Blighted flirt. Can't ever count on her past the bells." Finegan gave an exasperated smile at the swinging door and sighed as he gathered up the tumblers his customers stacked on the bar as they left.
"Mervyn was making stout pie for m'supper, too." He grumbled as he carried another stack of earthenware to the back. "I'm tempted to leave this lot for after."
When he came back for the last, Aeryn made her offer. "Do it. I can close up the front, if you like." When he raised bushy, grey eyebrows at her she shrugged. "Got to wait up for the boss, anyway."
"I'll take it. Y've never had anything like that man's hot water crust wrapped around a nice bit o' steak. And he gets a bit pissy if I leave it cold."
She grinned at him and he was laughing as he hauled up the last tray of barware in beefy, hairy arms to stash in the kitchen.
Fenris cleared his throat behind her and she cocked a brow at him. "Yeah?"
"You've taken a job as a serving girl?"
"No. I've found myself something to do while I wait up for Sebastian." She drew a pattern in the wax with a broken thumbnail and smoothed it away.
"Y'know, Hawke, you used to cover your tells better. Bad news for a thief to get sloppy." Varric swept up the cards and his quills. "Come on, Sunshine, grab the bottle and the cups and let's get settled in." The bar had cleared out and he asked, "You mind heating up some water? That washroom is colder than I really prefer to subject my delicate sensibilities to."
Bethany smiled at him, "No, Varric. I'm happy to indulge you."
The rogue heaved a sigh and executed a nice bow, "M'lady, you are a lifesaver. I can just about smell my own hide." Just before he went up, he added, "Don't stay up too late. He'll be back."
Aeryn nodded and Varric snorted. She was far gone if she didn't tease him for being a hen.
When Aeryn handed her the last cup, Bethany added, "If you'll call me, I'll come do yours too, when you're ready."
"Thanks, sis." Aeryn was surprised when, in a small awkward rush, Bethany brushed her cheek with a kiss.
"You do not want to come play cards with us?" Fenris asked as they watched her climb the stairs with quick steps behind Varric.
"Not particularly." His lips turned down in that minimalist twitch that spoke of hurt and she sighed. "I messed up, Fenris."
Fenris paused before he answered, watching regret flicker across her face. "I see no reason to argue with that."
"I don't want more lecturing than I have to have for acting as though I'm a petulant five year old and I'd really rather not get it with an audience, if there's yelling. There'll probably be yelling." At her wan half smile, Fenris leaned into her shoulder.
"He's forgiven you before."
Aeryn was quiet with her head cocked, listening to footsteps fade outside. "He shouldn't have to. This isn't...it's been a long time since I didn't owe him some confidence in who he chose to trust." She leaned her head on his shoulder and his strong arm slipped around her in a brief squeeze. "Don't stay up too late, yeah? We all need the rest." She breathed in the familiar scent of him all spice and leather and just the faintest sharp hint of lyrium reminding her, "Hey, did you and Beth have a good chat? It was nice to hear you laughing like that."
"We did, yes. She's a sensible sort. Hard to believe the two of you are sisters, at times." He chuckled at her sniff before adding, "She is worried about what she will do, later."
"I imagine she isn't the only one." Fenris gave her an agreeing sort of nod and she crooked him a bare half of a smile. "We've got time to find our places. With any luck...well, we've already seen that we're needed here, right? If the bandits were just a foretaste, we'll be kept busy enough."
"Fairly likely. Something to look forward to, then."
He grinned slyly and Aeryn had to laugh a little, swallowing her dread of what the rest of the evening might bring. Maybe Finnegin wouldn't begrudge her a bottle.
