Merrill, Varric and I spent the rest of the afternoon sharing our stories. Varric didn't seem bothered by Merrill's use of blood magic; as a dwarf, magic of any kind didn't seem to bother him. Sometimes it seemed everyone else in the city had drawn battlelines on the subject of mages, and I strove to emulate Varric's thoughtful indifference.
Varric was still pissed off at Bartrand, but in a sense he was relieved that his brother was going to get his payout. With the debts finally paid, Varric could finally stop worrying about it and attend to his own business again. We had an early dinner in Varric's room and then I walked Merrill back to the Alienage.
When I got home, there was very nasty surprise waiting for me.
I wandered into the living room and nearly very sharply wandered right back out again. We had a visitor. A Templar. Ma was talking to him, and when she looked over his shoulder and saw me she beckoned me in. I could tell from her expression she was braced for something.
"There you are, Trip."
The Templar turned around. It was Carver.
I raised an eyebrow, "How did you get an invite to a fancy dress party when I didn't?"
"This isn't a costume, Trip, it's a uniform." Carver straightened his back a bit, "It's my uniform."
I glared at him for a few moments, looking for any sign that he wasn't serious and this was just a joke in extremely poor taste.
"I see," I said. "Can I say goodbye to Ma, or should I start running now?"
"See? I told you he'd be like this!" Carver turned to Ma.
"Come on, Trip, listen to what Carver has to say. He's given this a lot of thought."
"I find that hard to believe," I said.
Carver took a deep breath, "Trip, three people nearly died last week. An entire warehouse was reduced to ashes and all we got to show for it is ten silver."
"Twenty-five, actually. Bartrand coughed up the difference."
"That ain't the point! We need a steady income. More than what Ma makes at the shop and it ain't fair that she should be working in the first place."
"Okay, so you want a job. Why the bowler hat? You coulda joined the police even."
"The Templars pay better, and besides, Aveline's a good friend but I don't wanna work with her all the time. Look, I ain't gonna turn you in. Or any of our friends."
"Well, I see you've made your mind up." I pushed past them, and then realised I had no reason to be in the kitchen, so I opened the back door and sat on the steps overlooking our overgrown back yard.
Horse joined me soon after, his old rubber ball clenched hopefully in his mouth. I patted him and dutifully threw it for him to fetch.
I'd been entertaining Horse out there for a little while when Carver followed me out and sat beside me. He'd taken off his loathsome hat and coat, but I found I couldn't look at him quite the same way anymore. My snot-nosed little brother had done it again. Although this felt different; when he'd joined the army he'd basically snuck off and had only left a letter to explain where he'd gone. This time he'd faced all of us with his decision.
"I want to help, Trip," he said, taking the ball from Horse and throwing it against the back fence. "This town needs Templars who want to protect mages, not punish them. People like Emeric. I've been talking to him a lot, and he said I'd make a fine Templar, that I already understood what some Templars never learn."
Emeric huh? I wasn't really surprised.
"But I still have a lot to learn. Last week, when you picked up the gun, it was like I couldn't recognise you." He shook his head, "I've been complacent."
"Hey, you think I'm gonna go nuts or something? It's still me."
"I know. But growing up in a family of mages, I guess I just took it for granted that the Templars and Chantry were just beating their gums when they talk about how dangerous you are. I think, I think I really could be a good Templar. I could really make a difference."
I raised an eyebrow at him, "Is this why my business is suddenly worthless? The Templars are where you go to change the world for the better?"
"No, Trip. Of course you make a difference. Even I ain't dumb enough to miss that. But something else I learned last week." He paused, and I could see he was getting to the heart of the matter. Despite Horse's pleading looks, he just turned the ragged and drool-flecked ball over in his fingers.
"You don't need me any more." Carver met my eyes, "You have him."
"Iā¦Fenris? But he-"
Carver forestalled me, "He looks after you. He hardly takes his eyes off you. When you were laid up in bed he only left when he had to. And he's better at it than me. He's had real training, he's faster and he's got that lyrium stuff. When he's here, what good am I?"
We were silent for a while.
I held my hand out, "All right, little brother. You made your point. Don't come crawling back after basic training kicks your backside."
A smile spread across Carver's face and he shook my hand, "Thank you, Trip. Father woulda been proud of the way you looked after us. I'm gonna do my share now."
With my blessing acquired, Ma said we would give Carver a proper send off. Once he entered training he'd be living at the barracks, and I had to admit I was sorta looking forward to moving Gamlen out of the living room; he was an eyesore. Gamlen was pretty happy about getting his bedroom back as well, and the steady income that Carver promised was a bonus.
Anders wasn't too happy about the whole Templar thing, but everyone else got behind Carver's decision. In fact, we decided to throw a party.
It wasn't just for Carver. Varric was soon back on his feet, albeit with the help of a handsome hardwood cane, and it was coming up on six months since I opened my business. That was all the excuse we needed.
Varric hired us one of the Hanged Man's rooms, and Merrill set about decorating it with murals drawn in chalk on brown paper and paper chains. Isabela was ostensibly supposed to help, but her drawings probably would have upset Ma.
I think Carver was a bit overwhelmed, to be honest.
Overflowing with enthusiasm, we invited everyone we could think of, including people we hadn't seen in months and even people we genially disliked. By the time the day of the party rolled around, everyone was in a frenzy. Ma had been cooking since dawn, and the kitchen was full of food and dirty dishes. Horse had to be shouted at when he tried to sample some of the pork rolls. I took him for a walk just to calm him down, and get away from the madness myself.
We started taking the food over mid-afternoon. Merrill had done a wonderful job with the decorating, even if the theme did seem to be, incongruously, exotic plant life. Isabela proudly brought in an absolutely enormous cake with 'Happy Birthday Stella' written on it. We tried to take the writing off, but all we managed to do was smudge it. Fenris brought two bottles of wine, and almost everyone else brought food. I did wonder how we were going to get through it all.
Luckily, we were not alone. Not everyone we invited showed up, but Emeric and Lirene did. Most of our neighbours put on an appearance, as did a couple of Gamlen's disreputable poker friends, whom Isabela immediately set about cleaning out. Even Meeran joined in the festivities, although I'm not sure who invited him. He seemed a bit bemused as well, although he did present Carver with an engraved cigarette case.
Anders had decided to present Carver with a cat to keep him company in the barracks, until Emeric reminded him that pets weren't allowed. Anders got to keep his cat, and the cat got to spend an evening out sitting in Emeric's lap as the Templar fed it bits of tuna casserole.
I'd decided that after long weeks of carefully not paying too much attention to Fenris, lest he discover what kind of unusual thoughts I had about him, I may have outsmarted myself. Because 'he hardly takes his eyes off you' had been ringing in my head ever since Carver had casually tossed the phrase out, but I had no idea if it was true.
Carver was the man of the hour, and I let him take the spotlight while I fought for my fair share of Fenris's wine and watched the room.
I jumped when Fenris appeared at my elbow to offer me the last of one of his bottles of wine. As expected, they'd gone extremely fast. We were keeping a lid on just who brought them.
"Thanks," I said, holding out my glass. "It's not really enough to celebrate on, is it?"
"You like wine?" Fenris asked.
"Not as much as I like good Fereldan beer, but it's better than what passes for liquor in the Free Marches these days."
I inclined my head and Fenris carried his glass over to a quiet corner. There seemed to be a lot to say; the air between us was thick with smoke, other people's conversation, and the potential of our own.
Low light made Fenris look thinner, shadows pooling under his cheekbones and bottom lip. I allowed myself to study him as I might have less shamefully studied a woman. I'd avoided looking at him most of the time. Partly because I wasn't sure what he'd read in my eyes, and partly because I didn't want him to think I was staring at his lyrium markings. But I was staring at them.
They curved under his lower lip, framing it as if it were an offering to someone brave enough to touch it. In this hazy shadow we shared, I could believe I was that brave.
Fenris was watching me too, in that guarded almost feline way of his.
"Are you having a staring contest?" Merrill asked, making me jump.
"Well," I began.
"No. Go away," Fenris said flatly.
Merrill pouted at him, "Fine fine, I was just going to ask if there was any more wine."
"I don't think so," I told her, before Fenris got a chance to be rude again. Merrill shrugged and left us to it as she went in search of something stronger. But the spell was broken, and the space between us needed words again.
"I'm surprised you didn't put up an argument against Carver's new career," Fenris said.
"Oh, I did. I was too cheesed off to even have a proper fight about it. But he's thought it through and hell; he's a grown man now. He can make his own mistakes." I think both Ma and I were still a bit shell-shocked by that. Ma in particular had been beaming proudly and on the edge of tears all evening.
"He needs direction, and he won't accept it from you."
"I know. This is partly your fault, you know. He said with you around he doesn't feel as necessary to the business."
Fenris frowned, "I'm not trying to take his place, Trip. I couldn't."
"Yeah. I don't want you to take his place," I told him. "But, so you know, there is a place for you here."
"You're very kind."
"I'm not being kind!" I glared at him and looked away again, "If anything, I'm being selfish. I don't even pay you."
"You don't have to pay-"
"So you've said. I can't help feeling I'm getting the better end of the deal, though. I get the backup of the best training the Imperium can provide, and a, a stunning individual to stare inappropriately at, but what do you get?"
Fenris stared into his drink. Now I wished the light wasn't so low, because if I didn't know better I'd have thought he was blushing.
"I get a friend," he said finally. "I get more than a friend; I get a whole group of them. Even if most of them irritate me."
"You don't need me for that," I said.
"You don't irritate me. You confuse me," he admitted. He raised his eyes to mine and smiled faintly, "In a way that I like."
"I can relate to that," I said quietly. "I was confused too. But I'm not anymore," I glanced at him sharply, "someday you won't be confused either. One way or another. And then what?"
"We could, I mean, I still have plenty of wine. It seems a shame to drink it alone sometimes. I uh..."
"I accept," I clinked my glass against his, "just tell me when."
To my disappointment, but not surprise, he didn't suggest a date.
I couldn't hide in the corner forever and as Carver's older brother I had some duties to attend to before we cut the cake. I called for silence and then called Carver a sap, among other more generous things.
I ain't really one for speeches, but it's the duty of the man of the house to see off those leaving with the good wishes of those who remain. Ma really did start crying when I handed Carver the hunting knife my father had given me when I was thirteen. We were a bit light on heirlooms; almost everything meaningful had been abandoned in Lothering, and everything valuable had long been pawned by Gamlen. As they say; it's the thought that counts.
We all sang 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow', and Carver cut the cake. I can't say I'd ever been to a celebration quite like it.
Even Anders had thawed out a bit.
"Maybe he can do some good in there."
"Just don't send him any pamphlets, will you? We don't want him kicked out."
The party continued until the early hours of the morning, but however long it lasted it didn't change the fact that before dawn we were seeing Carver off with a suitcase of clothes.
After he'd gone, Ma cried against my shoulder for a long time.
The apartment felt very still.
