BioWare owns all; I just play in their pond. Reviews are always welcome!
36. Mea Culpa – Merrill
Hawke couldn't remember a single moment in his life when he'd been as infuriated as he was when he left the Chantry. He was certain Elthina hadn't seen it, just as he was sure he'd played his hand the best way possible. It had all gone in one bloody ear and out the other, he had thought, followed by the bitter notion that it hadn't taken a blood mage to set his own boiling in his veins.
Most of the edge had been taken off before Aveline had left him in the barracks. She had some words for the Grand Cleric herself, as well as an invitation to go speak them as soon as she was finished with Hawke, but on seeing his face when he stormed down the stairs decided those words could wait. Instead, she had pulled him into her office, given him the privacy of a closed door, stepped to the center of the room, squared her shoulders, and lifted her hand to make a silent come-ahead gesture.
Hawke wouldn't ever know what she'd intended, or if she'd been aware she risked making herself a physical target for his anger. Seeing her stand for him in just that way without any conditions on her offer, though, had blown out his rage more effectively than if she'd given him the rest of the day with the wood and straw figures in the training salle she kept for her guards. For her to trust him to that degree, when he'd never felt less worthy, well… Once he had come back to himself as much as he could have done after venting the rest so she'd know what she was walking into with Elthina, he was able to see the irony in feeling so blessed immediately after cursing everything to do with the Grand Cleric and her Maker-be-damned Chantry.
When five bells tolled nearby, he realized he'd been settling for the best part of an hour. Aveline had asked him to get the mages sorted out while she tried to beat some sense into Elthina, making clear that the mages were welcome to act the part of vagrants for another few days if they chose, while everyone waited for the political tension to ease. Pushing out of the visitor's chair where he'd finished updating the captain, he decided he'd bring the mages from the cells up to the room in the barracks with the rest. It would be more cramped, but it would be private, and more comfortable than discussing their apostate status with iron bars for ambiance.
The sergeant on duty had told him the cells were clear except for the mages now, so he shouldn't have to worry about anything that was said. As he descended the stairs, he became aware of the good fortune in that current condition. Hearing an incredibly familiar voice, he paused in his steps to rub at his eyes as he recognized Merrill's chirping lilt coming up from the jail.
"…Aveline looks out for everyone! I can tell she's looking out for you, too, because she's got all these torches and things and even if you tried you couldn't close one of these doors. That's so clever, the way the bars just stick out like that! So what sorts of mages are you all? "
Hawke heard another woman say hesitantly that she was a healer, but the other voices were still too muffled for him to make out whatever other answers the elf received.
"How interesting! I know a couple of healers. Aveline said you know one of them, too. His name is Hawke, and I heard he was going to talk to the Grand Cleric this afternoon. Me? Oh! I'm a blood mage. But only sometimes. I like using electricity when I can. It makes such interesting sounds when it – Hawke!" Merrill scrambled up from where she'd been sitting on the floor, legs folded beneath her as one might expect around the fire in her old Dalish camp. "Varric told me all about what Aveline is doing for the mages here. But then he said she ran out of room and some of them had to stay down here in these dreary cells, so I came by to cheer them up!"
Stepping around the corner into full view of the mages staying here, he addressed each of the… visiting mages with a finger, offering to each of them in turn: "Yes," "No," and "Sometimes, neither can I."
The lone woman, whose face had asked "she can't possibly be serious, can she?" started to ask her follow-up question before Hawke cut her off. "It's well in the past, and truly it's more ancient elvhen than blood."
The first of the men, who had been wearing "is there any possible way this woman could be that dangerous?" in his expression relaxed fully after Hawke elaborated.
The other man, also an elf, had rolled his eyes in such a way as to say, "I can't believe I'm hearing any of this." He settled on laughing, now that someone had arrived to save them.
As they passed, Hawke said, "Understood," to the sergeant on jail duty, whose face plainly said, "now you see why I posted myself out here."
"I missed something dirty again, didn't I?" Merrill trilled as the five of them walked up for the last conversation Hawke wanted to have.
Merrill stopped him before they joined the mages in the cramped barracks bedroom and assured him things would be all right, but for the first time since meeting the elf he couldn't take anything from the comfort she so sincerely offered. He could convince the mages to hope for Aveline's success where he had failed, but right this minute he was so damned tired he couldn't manage to hold on to a shred of hope for himself.