Sorry for the small chapter, but it just felt right to stop where I did. You'll see when you get there.
Thank you to everyone who's still following this story. I have a surprise for you in this chapter. Let me know how you like it. ;)
Hatsepsut, my dear friend, you have my infinite gratitude. I'm here for you. Always.
Chapter 34 – Madman
Hawke, heard you got to the Free Marches. Don't know why you bother, but I suppose it's better than Orlais. They got spiders up there? Big ones? Couldn't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a giant spider, but the Blight drove 'em off. Maker! Dark days ahead. A man can't even cover this blighted land with poisonous traps! I guess it doesn't matter anymore. The land here is tainted and I don't think anything will grow here again.
Think 'bout you sometimes when I think 'bout my boy. Just wanted you to know I don't blame you. Not anymore. Hope you're doing well for yourself out there, kid.
Old Barlin
With tears in her eyes, Hawke carefully folded the letter, returned it to its envelope and put it inside a chest with a few mementos she kept from her family and her old life in Lothering. Barlin hadn't said much in his letter. He wasn't the type to share his feelings and she knew it must not have been easy for him to write to her. No wonder it had taken him years to do so and she was glad he had done it. Those few kind words of his meant the world to her. Anything that would help soothe the pain and the guilt for what had happened to Arthur was welcome and she would take it and hold it dear to her.
Her day was off to a good start and she went to Hanged Man proud and gingerly carrying the enchanted potted plant Merrill had given her when she was in prison in her arms . It was springtime in Kirkwall and the plant had blossomed. To everyone's surprise it turned out to be some kind of flower.
"So Claudette is not a cactus after all, eh? Good for you, Hawke," Varric said, remembering how she had named the plant.
Anders took a closer look at the big yellow-and-orange flower. "It's an Orlesian Marigold," he supplied.
"See? My choice of name for her it's not so ridiculous now, is it, dwarf?" Hawke teased her short friend.
"The oil you get from distilling it is very effective against fungal infections," Anders continued.
Hawke wrapped her arms protectively around the pot. "Keep your hands off my flower, mage."
Sebastian almost choked on his drink, while Varric and Isabela burst into laughter. "Don't worry, Blondie. She doesn't really mean that," the dwarf said, wiping tears off his eyes.
"Does anyone know what it represents?" Fenris asked, trying to put them back on track. He was not comfortable with the direction the conversation had taken.
"Nobility, perhaps?" Sebastian suggested.
Garrus gave a loud and sure bark.
"He thinks it's courage, isn't that right, boy?" Hawke translated and appreciatively scratched the mabari behind his ears.
Aveline scoffed. "Arrogance would be more like it."
"Good morning to you too, Aveline. I hadn't seen you there," Hawke retorted wryly.
All the companions turned to Merrill, who this time wasn't really oblivious to their conversation, but just pretending to be. "So, Daisy, what is it?" Varric asked.
She dropped her eyes, obviously embarrassed. "Oh… uh…"
"I bet it's something kinky! It means sex, doesn't it? Lots and lots of sex," Isabela said, drawling the words suggestively, a lewd smile on her face.
"I don't think there's a plant that means sex, whore," Aveline said.
"There should be! What about cucumber?" the Rivaini woman replied.
"Please, let the mage say what it is," Fenris practically begged them.
"Oh," the elven girl uttered, her tone a pitch higher than usual, as if she was about to cry. "It means… pain and grief. I'm so sorry, Hawke. I never thought…"
"That's rather ominous, isn't it?" Sebastian remarked.
"Pain and grief?" Hawke glared at the plant as if it had just tried to stab her in the back. The look in her eyes was of rage and disappointment. She thought she was having a good day, but it had just taken a turn for the worse. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
She seemed to be about to tear Claudette apart, but then she couldn't. Merrill had said that in that pot would grow a plant that matched her, her life and personality and that damned Orlesian Marigold did. Pain and grief had shaped her, made her who she was, but she was damned if she was going to let that be the rest of her life too.
It was early in the morning when Hawke arrived home, after spending the whole night dealing with that freak, Gascard DuPuis, and then another annoying Hightown gang. Anders had probably left for his clinic already and she wanted nothing more than to hog their bed and sleep the whole day off.
Her mother, however, had other plans. She and Orana were sewing and the older woman insisted Hawke should help them with the intricate embroidery of her new dress.
Since Hawke had been arrested, the invitations for the other noble's events had stopped coming, so out of curiosity she asked Leandra what the new gown was for.
Her mother's eyes twinkled with excitement, in a way Hawke hadn't seen ever since her father had gotten ill and passed many years ago. "I have a suitor," Leandra replied with a shy smile. "You and Anders seem so happy together, I think it's time I remarry and leave this house just for you and your kids."
There was so much wrong in that sentence Hawke didn't even know where to start.
"So I'm making this dress to wear on my date this weekend," her mother added, all but jumping on her feet like a teenager with a crush.
Hawke looked at her with shocked, wide, round eyes. "A date?"
"Yes! You have to meet him, Marian. He's so –"
"Mother!" Hawke cut her off. "It is great that you have a suitor and you're… going out with him, but please don't tell me about it. I really don't want to know."
Her mother was going out on dates? Thinking about remarrying? What the fuck? Hawke was not prepared – and she didn't think she would ever be – to see her mother with a man other than her father. Instead of going up to her room, she took the stairs down to the cellar. Suddenly, she needed a drink even more than she needed sleep.
Isabela thought she would have a great the day chasing assassins to fulfill some Chanter's Board request with Hawke, Varric and Merrill, but instead she got caught up in the middle of the weirdest courtship ever and it was all Hawke's fault. The damned woman had decided to stop by the Keep before they went on what would certainly be a fun killing spree around Kirkwall, just to tell Man-Hands she had dealt with this crazy Orlesian blood mage and annihilated some stupid all-female gang that had been working Hightown; and, of course, Hawke hadn't missed the opportunity to provoke Man-Hands saying that she had done her job for her. "Again".
It was the "again" that had done it for Aveline. Irate, she had chased Hawke away from the Keep, but actually ordered Isabela to stay behind. The pirate still didn't know why she had complied (maybe because she was caught by surprise), but she had and now she regretted it. At least Merrill had stayed there too to keep her company and look adorably confused while Isabela had to assist the worst attempts at flirting in the history of Thedas.
When Man-Hands' pathetic courtship "tactics" failed for the third time to convey any coherent messages to her intended… well, given the circumstances, "victim" seemed more like the appropriate word, the rogue decided she'd had enough.
"Life's too short. I'll get him in here."
"Isabela, don't! I will not risk –"
"That's the problem! Risk or, so help me, I'll bed the man myself!"
That line pretty much settled the matter. Aveline chided herself internally for having chosen Isabela for that job, but it wasn't like she could ask one of the guardsmen or Hawke to do something like that for her. Hawke knew how to have her way with men. Since they arrived in Kirkwall, Aveline had seen her with quite a few lovers and she didn't want Hawke to witness her fumbling like an inexperienced teenager just to get a guy to notice her; and least of all find out that she hadn't been with anyone since Wesley. She would never hear the end of it. Obviously, the pirate wasn't the ideal person to help her either, but Hawke had too little respect for her already without seeing her acting all insecure because of a man.
Maybe Sebastian would have helped without embarrassing her, but now it was already too late for that. She would have to make this work right now, Isabela's way.
"Captain, what's going on?" Donnic followed the Rivaini woman inside Aveline's office.
The guardswoman blushed to the tip of her ears while Merrill clapped her hands excitedly. "You told him already, Isabela? Aw, they are so adorable!"
The pirate looked at the two clueless guards. "You're a daft couple of… " she stopped mid-sentence and rolled her eyes. "Just… take a hint and bend her over a basin, will you?" she told Donnic and grabbed Merrill, hastily getting out of the office and closing the door behind them before Aveline could answer.
The next time they met at the Hanged Man, Aveline took out of her pouch a clear glass bottle with a small wooden ship built inside. "Hey, Isabela… I… uh… found this while I was with Varric tracking down Javaris."
"Aww, isn't it the cutest thing?" the Rivaini woman cooed.
Looking a little embarrassed, the Guard-Captain replied, "Yes, I… I thought you might like it."
The pirate queen looked at the other woman with wide eyes and mouth hanging open. "You're giving me a gift?"
"Just take it, whore! Don't make me regret this," Aveline shoved the bottle in Isabela's hands.
"Is this because I helped you out with Guardsman Hunky Hunk?"
Aveline scoffed. "If you call that help…"
Isabela shot her a knowing look. "You're together, aren't you?"
"Yes," the Guard-Captain admitted, trying to disguise her blush. "Thank you."
When Hawke went to the Docks to collect from a mage for killing the assassins that were after him, she found out he was Sketch, a spirit healer and old friend of Sister Leliana's. He had helped the bard get the Battledress of the Provocateur – the beautiful armor Hawke had seen in the Sister's possession back in Lothering and that had prompted a conversation that resulted in Leliana training Hawke and Arthur to become rogues.
Sketch ended up staying in Kirkwall for a few days and going on some jobs with Hawke, giving Anders a break to take care of his clinic and make more copies of his manifesto to distribute all over the city, which appeased Justice for the time being.
However, after Hawke brought Sketch along to destroy the last of Tarohne's evil tomes – the Fell Grimoire, that was in a cave in Darktown – the elven mage decided he'd had enough. Once they had finally killed the powerful desire demon Xebenkeck, Sketch went straight to the Hanged Man to pack his belongings and get back on the road.
Anders did not hesitate leaving yet another copy of his manifesto to be finished some other time and started following Hawke around again. Justice, however, did not approve and made an appearance to remind Hawke of his discontent.
"YOU ARE IN OUR WAY, HUMAN. WE DO NOT NEED YOU. ANDERS DOES NOT NEED YOU."
Hawke raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. "That is not your call, demon."
Justice did not take her offense lightly and Anders' whole body lit up, enveloped in bright blue glow. He looked taller, larger and… threatening. It really seemed like he was going to attack her when suddenly human Anders broke through. "Maker, all this anger… What happened?"
"I just had a chat with Justice."
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm trying to keep him quiet, but –"
"– you're not doing a pretty good job. He hates me, Anders."
He was going to say something else, but she wasn't in the mood. She didn't want to hear any excuses. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she blew out a tired breath. "Look, Anders, let's just go."
Nothing. There were no tears or a desperate cry or even a gasp. They all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction so they could act accordingly, comfort her and help in any way they could, but she didn't do anything but blink.
Her eyes were empty and her voice was void of any emotions when she finally spoke. "Sebastian, can you set up a service and a funeral pyre at the Chantry as soon as possible? Varric, let the families of the other women know what happened and invite them to the service. Aveline, will you deliver the news to Gamlen? Anders, can you do something to keep my… the body from… uh," she swallowed and took a deep breath, "…falling apart until we can have the service? Thank you all for your help. I need to see Bethany now and I rather go alone."
Fenris was there too. She had called everyone she could reach to help her find Leandra. When she walked out of the foundry without giving the elf anything to do, he exchanged a glance with Varric. The dwarf nodded. They both had the same idea. Right after her, the elf left and climbed to the rooftops so he could follow her without her noticing him and make sure she would be safe.
Hawke was completely numb as she left that foundry with only Garrus in tow. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to remember, she didn't want to feel; right at that moment she didn't even want to live. Her mother had told her about some suitor, but Hawke had pretended it wasn't happening. She had been selfish, acting like a child, sulking and pouting at the idea of her mother being with another man instead of paying attention to her and watching out for her. All the opportunities to save and protect Leandra had been missed, because Hawke was deliberately trying to ignore the fact that her mother had moved on "only" eight years after her father had passed.
Gamlen had told Hawke, when Anders had moved into her house, that she was just like her mother. It figured that Leandra would find another apostate to get involved with. And of course he would turn out to be an insane blood mage, after all, this was Kirkwall they were talking about. The city was crawling with those types. How come the same place on Thedas that housed more templars than anywhere else, also had a damned blood mage hiding in every corner? Someone wasn't doing their job. Bethany, who had never hurt a fly, was locked up in the Circle while monsters like Quentin were running loose. Everything was wrong there and she didn't want to try to fix it anymore; she just wanted to drop it.
Going to the Gallows at that time of the night was asking for trouble. There would be no one else but templars there and saying that most of them didn't like Hawke was a safe assumption. She had only Garrus with her and would be an easy target if they sought retaliation for Ser Karras' death. At least it was only Cullen who knew she had murdered Ser Alrik too.
She asked for the Knight-Captain and waited outside the gate for what seemed like forever until he finally showed up, wearing full armor but the helmet. Keran was right behind him, correctly guessing that her visit there had something to do with Bethany.
"Mother was murdered. I need to tell Bethany," Hawke said coldly.
"Maker! I'm so sorry, Marian." Cullen slipped an arm between the bars of the gate and squeezed her hand. "But I'm afraid you can't come in like this, at this time of the night. We can set up for you to meet her in the morning."
Hawke grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards her with all her strength, making him bump his head painfully against one of the iron bars of the gate. "Listen to me, Cullen," she said between gritted teeth. "Mother was just murdered by a fucking blood mage you let run loose in the city. You will let me come in here and talk to my sister right now. You owe me, templar," she spat, the last word dripping with venom.
A few other templars began to approach them, attracted by the loud noise the Knight-Captain's armor had made as it had hit the gate. They were certainly suspecting something might be wrong there, so she let Cullen go. She had enough problems for one night.
Cullen wiped a trickle of blood that had run down his forehead and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against the cut she had caused him to stop the bleeding. "Before you accuse me of not doing my job, Serah Hawke," he said, matching her tone and spite, "are you sure this wasn't one of the many mages you helped, protected or simply failed to report in the past years?"
No, she wasn't sure. Quentin could be; she had no idea. She had been so frantic on her search for her mother that she hadn't even paid attention to the letters, books, notes or anything in his hideout that might have given her more on him, who he was and where he had come from. And she didn't even want to think about Gascard DuPuis – the mage she had murdered a few days before for crimes that she now knew he hadn't committed. He was probably telling the truth when he had said Quentin had taken his sister too. Fuck, what had she done? What had she become?
It was getting harder and harder to suppress her emotions. She wanted to scream, to kick, to kill, to die, but she wasn't going to have a melt down there, in front of all those templars. Cullen wasn't going to let her in; that ship had already sailed, so it was best to just get the fuck out of there.
"Keran, tell Bethany what happened and be there for her. Take care of her, okay? Tell her that I'm sorry," she said, barely keeping her voice from breaking. But she managed and now there was only one more thing she had to take care of before she could have her meltdown.
She walked back to her estate and stopped at her doorstep. "Fenris," she called. How come a glowing white-haired elf believed he could follow her without being seen was beyond her.
He dropped to the ground, right in front of her. "Hawke, I –"
"No, I don't want pity, comfort, sympathies, nothing. I need you to go back to that foundry and tell Aveline or whoever's still there to gather all evidence on Quentin, find out who he was, if he had people helping him, mentor, disciples, followers, whatever and then go after them all. This can't happen to anyone else, it's just too… fucked up."
He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off again. "Go, Fenris. Please."
As the elf got out of sight, Hawke walked away from her doorstep and disappeared into the night with her mabari.
The Grey Wardens were setting up camp outside Kirkwall, where they would stay for about a week or maybe less if everything went as planned. Alistair wondered if he would have time to go the Hanged Man, the tavern where he had spent a good few months of his life, a couple of years ago. The tavern where he had met Marian Hawke.
If she could see him now, she would be proud. He had returned to Ferelden and to the Grey Wardens, like she had encouraged him to do. In only one night, she had changed his life. She had made him feel like a man again. She had made him feel worth. She had given back to him everything that Elissa had taken away from him.
It was so unfair that he had lost her. And to the Deep Roads and darkspawn, of all things.
Alistair rubbed at his eyes and sighed tiredly. The journey to Kirkwall had been exhausting. Thank the Maker he had a lot of practice setting up tents and his was ready in seconds. The other Wardens were still struggling with theirs, but he didn't offer them any help. He didn't feel particularly connected to this group of people as he had felt with Elissa's during the Blight and couldn't find it in himself to care about them.
He was cleaning his armor by the fire when he caught a glimpse of a woman leaving the city. It was pitch dark at that late hour. Wasn't she afraid? At least she had a dog with her. Despite the darkness of that moonless night, he could tell it was a mabari. That breed was very distinctive. And very Fereldan. How odd.
She didn't pass by their camp, taking the route to the Wounded Coast instead and her silhouette quickly disappeared amid the trees and high grass on the sides of the road. Alistair smiled fondly; she reminded him of Hawke.