Joanna sighed contently as she plucked the medicinal herb from a rather hard to reach spot-hidden from view and only known by her. It was located in a secret base, her secret base, where she used to hide when home became too much. Studying the healers texts Joanna had discovered a familiar plant that she had no idea was for medicinal purposes-and was in abundance here. The Arishok agreed on a small expedition-one that she got to lead, imagine that!-and along with a few guards and fellow viddathari, they set out to collect these needed herbs.
Kaaras needed more.
Her throat closed up slightly. His condition-his hands- were nothing like she'd ever seen before. It wasn't fair. Losing one eye in the grand scheme of things seemed to pale in comparison to that. She could handle being half blind, but Kaaras...he needed his hands. And he couldn't feel. Not in the way that he once did.
All because of Kirkwall.
Joanna frowned, placing the herbs in her basket rather forcefully. The more she was here in Kirkwall...the more she understood why they hated it so much. Why the Arishok always seemed on edge. She hoped with all her heart he wouldn't order an attack. They would lose. But slowly, thinking of Kaaras and the Mashaar's face...and the whole situation with mother...she understood it.
She sighed, pushing such thoughts away. She needed to concentrate. Walking over towards a hidden spot, she thought of only one thing: find more herbs. That is your duty right now. Nothing else is nee-
That was when she stumbled upon Saemus Dumar.
He was half asleep, and when she made a noise of surprise, his eyes shot open. This was probably the first time someone had found him here. She raised her hands up, letting him know she meant no harm. He quickly rubbed his eyes and blushed, clearing his throat. "Ahem! I-uhm. Good...good morning? Miss? Er, viddathari?"
Joanna giggled. "Good afternoon, Saemus. Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm alright!" Saemus said, getting up to brush some of the dirt off his pants. Joanna blinked. She'd never seen Saemus so flustered before. She used to only stare at him in the background-when nobles gathered for parties and honoured the Viscount, Saemus was often there...but he was always so sombre or uninterested. She never spoke to him in those days-how could a bastard even imagine speaking to the Viscount's son?- but, when she was still injured, she saw him once in a while in the Compound. But still sad. When she joined, they finally spoke once.
He had seen the earring she had hung over her eye, and smiled. "Congratulations," he had said.
Joanna smiled, in the present. "What are you doing out here? If I might ask."
Saemus let out a long sigh. "Hiding. I suppose it's cowardly to admit, but I needed a break. And this is-or at least was- a good place to do so. Yet, you all found it so easily."
"Only because this used to be my hiding place too."
"Yours?" He asked, eyebrows raised. Then, he remembered. "Of course, you were-" He cleared his throat again. "Well! Imagine that. We have a lot in common, you and I."
The tiniest jolt of annoyance ran through her stomach, but she held it down. They were not that similar, when you knew all the facts. But he didn't, so instead she handed him a pair of scissors. "Want to help?"
He blinked, and took the scissors awkwardly. Kneeling beside her, he began to copy what she was doing. It's easy work, giggling in her mind, so even a noble like him can do it.
They were quiet for a while, concentrating on the task nearly completed. But he would steal glances at her while they worked, mostly eyeing the earring hanging down her face. She noticed it right away, since the qunari never stared at it.
"It doesn't hurt at all."
Saemus blinked. "O-oh, I-" He looked down, his face red again. "I apologize for staring. In truth I...I'm rather envious."
When Joanna simply nodded slightly, smiling a smile that was not at all happy-a smile he was so used to smiling himself- he realized that wasn't at all the truth.
He sighed, slumping his shoulders. "No that's...that isn't the right word. I'm reminded of my own failures when I see them, you know? The viddathari. Maybe if I had joined years ago, Ashaad wouldn't have-"
He cut himself short, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't burden you with this. You should be happy."
Ah. That's right...Camlen told her about the Ashaad. All the viddathari knew this story. Another Hawke story, as well. "Saemus. Do you want to be viscount one day?"
He looked at her with tired eyes. "No."
She glanced at him. "Even if you join the Qunari, your duty will be chosen for you. Is that what you want?"
His eyes no longer looked tired. "I want...what Ashaad had."
"And what did he have?"
They both sat in silence. They knew the answer to that. He had the Qun.
Javeen's eye twitched when Hawke manor's door closed behind her, exhaustion evident under her eyes and increasingly sluggish movement. But she wasn't done for the day. She'd been taking so many jobs the last week that she barely slept. Barely had time to think. Unprecedented, as the jobs in Kirkwall had always come to her first. She never sought them out on her own.
Merrill glanced at Hawke, brows woven in worry. She hadn't left Javeen's side. Bags were under her eyes too. But ever since the Arishok expelled her from the Compound, Merrill couldn't leave her. There was something frightening about her need to work. It had never been this intense before. It had never been this desperate before.
But Merrill had reached her limit. All of Hawke's companions had reached their limit. Right now, only she was willing to accompany Hawke on her endless missions.
She tugged on Javeen's arm as she had made her way to the ledger once more. "Ma'vhenan, please..." she begged, "no more today. Please rest with me."
Javeen glanced at her, not really registering her request. "You don't have to come with me."
That was the last straw. "I really don't want to do this Hawke, but you leave me no choice."
Javeen's eyes narrowed. "What are you-"
Suddenly, every house plant sprung to life, growing impossibly long vines from their roots and stems. They embraced Javeen with a strange, magical strength that was both powerful and gentle. The vines lifted Javeen over to the top of the stair case, pushing her directly onto her bed. Javeen struggled a little bit-she was too tired to fight back-and that was when Merrill joined her, standing effortlessly on her stair of vines that lifted her all the way up. Merrill frowned as the vines began to retract and go back to the normal plant sized roots they once were. She jumped onto the bed, holding Javeen down with all her strength.
"What is the point of running yourself ragged," Merrill said sharply, "I am so tired of seeing you like this. I thought you were getting better!"
Javeen finally looked guilty. "I just need-I just needed to do something."
"No! That's a lie!" Merrill shook her head. "You just needed to feel useful! You just wanted to forget that your friend cast you out! Can't you just for once admit you're not invincible?"
"I'm not invincible," Javeen said coldly, "and that's the problem."
"It's not..." Merrill sniffed. "You are not a god, Hawke. You can't exist everywhere. You can't see everything. So you can't blame yourself for everything."
Javeen squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm scared, Merrill."
Merrill relaxed her arms a bit. "Of what, ma'vhenan?"
"Something is going to happen, something big. And I can't-I can't stop it. All my power, all my status, all my work-it can't stop Kirkwall from hurting the qunari. I can feel it. I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore. I don't know what side to be on anymore."
Merrill curled up, embraced Javeen with all the gentleness she could. "You're still on the same side as always, my love. You are on the side of the innocent. You fight for them. You always have, no matter who they are. We will face what comes together. I won't leave you."
"Merrill-" Javeen began, and Merrill kissed her nose.
"But rest first. You can't help anyone like this."
It only took a few seconds for Javeen to fall into a deep sleep, cozy by the warmth of Merrill. She was right, Javeen needed all the rest she could. The clock was still ticking, counting down as Saemus joined the Qunari for real, and Petrice made her final move.
In the early hours of evening the next day, Javeen was handed a new letter from the Viscount. Dread filled her bones. She didn't roll her eyes anymore at his letters. He didn't go into detail about what the problem was, just that he needed to see her right away. With no hesitation, she made her way to the Keep.
Viscount Dumar was standing when she entered his office, facing away from the door. His hands placed at his back were trembling slightly. He didn't turn around to greet her when she closed the door behind her. "Hawke," he said, voice deep in grief, "I need to ask you a favour. It can only be you, unfortunately."
Normally, she would scoff and say something along the lines of of course it has to be me, but this time, there was something very different about his voice. So she stayed silent instead, waiting. He took a long, shaky breath, and finally turned to face her. His eyes were red, still damp from tears he had shed.
That confirmed her suspicion of who this was about.
"Saemus...he...he has joined the Quanri."
"Okay..." Javeen nodded. He was hurting, but that did not mean she would just do what he wanted. "You realize I won't try to bring him back. He made his choice."
Dumar nodded, wiping at his cheeks. "No. No I...I know you would not. I just. I just want you to check up on him. Your word that he is fine and safe...that will have to be enough for me. The political blowback... is something only I can try to fix."
"He will be safe with them. I promise you that." She let out a breath. If she did this, then at least she had a reason to go back, even briefly. Maybe the Arishok would let her see everyone. "But...I will check up on him."
She took the fastest route to the Compound, which involved a few back alleys along the way. She'd brought along her usual crew-Merrill, Varric and Fenris-sans Isabela since she was busy, apparently. After the trials of Javeen's constant work for the past while, Varric and Fenris wearily kept cautious in these back ways, expecting an attack.
Their caution was rewarded. Or not.
Several mercenary types revealed themselves in the last alleyway, no evidence to a particular mercenary group that they had dealt with in the past. It wasn't a particularly hard fight-they were so used to these attacks, especially lately-that they were dispatched soon after. Varric studied the bodies while the others collected themselves.
"It's no coincidence they showed up on a trip to the Qunari...smells too convenient, yeah?" He placed a thoughtful hand under his chin. "But who sent them, I wonder? Someone who doesn't want Saemus to be found...or Saemus himself?"
"Saemus doesn't have it in him," Javeen said quickly, "and if it were the Qunari, they would send their own."
Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Something was wrong. She had to get there now.
The guards at the gates looked down at Javeen with a hint of confusion. Before, they always let her in. She should have guessed that would have changed. "I have business with the Arishok. By order of...of the Viscount."
That was all they needed. Nodding, they let them all pass.
She had to stop herself from inhaling too much. That familiar scent of this place...nothing in the world beat it. The Compound was the same, it never changed without her. Of course. One would think that would be despairing, but it was in fact relieving. Their survivability relied on familiarity and structure. If it had felt different, she would truly have lost it.
She couldn't help quick and frantic glances in every direction-picking up details even if small of the place she considered as close of a home as the elder Hawke could. She recognized all the faces, all the going ons. She doubted she would see her closest friends before meeting with the Arishok, so hopefully she would be able to visit them after confirming that Saemus was fine.
If he was fine.
Javeen took a slow, deep breath as she approached the Arishok's dais. He was sitting there of course, watching her approach as he always would. She wanted to feel anger towards him. That would be completely normal and justified. But all she felt was sadness. Because she knew it wasn't malice or disgust that drove him to cast her out. Keeping her here for as long as he did was outside the realm of normal, for both Kirkwall and the Qun. But he had done it anyway. It still hurt, hurt deeply and still was going strong...but she knew it hurt him too.
His eyes were soft when she stood below him. Nothing like they were the first time they met those years ago. She noticed a small sigh, how his shoulders slumped so subtly that no one else would notice, but he still straightened and took a stronger, solid stance. "Hawke."
Her voice caught in her throat briefly, almost forgetting what she came here for. The Arishok paused, relaxing his temple on a clawed finger. "I assume you are here on business. Otherwise..."
That snapped her out of it. "Yes, yes, I am. The Viscount sent me. To check up on Saemus."
A noise of annoyance rumbled in his throat, and she got why. As far as the Qun was concerned, the old family outside was a nuisance at best if they were not joining as well, and it must have been extremely offensive to have them always assume they were now in danger. "You of all know that it was only his choice that brought him here." His eyes narrowed. "Are you intending to take him back?"
Javeen shook her head immediately. "Absolutely not. I know full well he is safe in these walls. But the Viscount-"
"Why send a messenger when he already sent a letter? I suppose I should not be surprised that he would waste someone else's time."
The corners of Javeen's mouth twitched. "Letter? He never said he sent a- Arishok, can I see Saemus?"
"He is not even here. He went to the Chantry. For one last pointless appeal with his father."
Javeen shook her head nervously, stepping even closer to him. "No. The Viscount is wasteful but he didn't send that letter. He wouldn't meet him in the Chantry of all places. He would meet him at the Keep."
The Arishok's eyes widened slightly, understanding. He quickly stood, nodding for the gates. He didn't hesitate. "Go," he commanded, their grievances forgotten all at once for now. Because now they both knew that Saemus was in grave danger.
She heard him command one of his subordinates to follow as she rushed out of the Compound, heading directly towards where the Chantry stood. It was evening, so only a few would actually be present there. She would be the first to get there, since she wasn't Qunari and didn't need to be stealthy.
Please be fast enough.
The Chantry was quiet, and strangely abandoned. Surely, there were very few who worked this late at night, but there would be some Sisters about. But no. There was silence. Peering up the staircase, to where the massive golden statues of Chantry lore stood, was Saemus. He was on his knees, upright. His head was down, like in prayer.
Javeen threw caution to the wind and ran up the stairs, kneeling next to him to check his breathing. "Saemus?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Saemus fell over at the simple touch. He was completely lifeless.
Coldness stabbed her stomach, throat closing in both panic and fury. Stupidly, she searched for a pulse. Flashes of her mother covered her eyes as she felt nothing on his throat, his lips pale. Another innocent dead. Another she couldn't save.
Merrill knelt beside her, her eyes brimming with tears. She whispered a prayer for him, and leaned against her. "It's not your fault, Hawke."
"How many times can we say that."
"As many as needed," Fenris said firmly.
Varric nodded. "Yeah. This isn't your work, Hawke. He was just a kid."
Javeen took a deep breath. They were right, she knew that. But it was still so hard to accept that truth when he was lying there on the ground. God dammit, Saemus. Why did it have to be him? All he wanted was peace.
"Serah Hawke. You will pay for this."
A voice that could not hide its delight was heard from below. Petrice, smugly between two templars, shook her head in mock sadness as Javeen got to her feet. "There is no hiding from this. You killed the Viscount's son, a repentant convert who realized his mistake and was trying to come back from the brink."
"He was innocent," Javeen hissed, though there was no emotion in it. Her livid blue eyes glowed instead, blazing like fire. Even from her distance, Petrice could see them clearly. She resisted stepping back. "You missed murdering the first noble convert so you had to go for the second? Is that it?"
Petrice smirked. "You have no idea what you're talking about-"
"When you die," Javeen interrupted, "the only thing I will regret about it is that I won't see the Maker toss your soul into the pits without so much of a second thought."
That hit a nerve. She whistled to signal the hidden group of cronies that she of course had and bolted. Javeen took aim with Arzhela, a shot she most certainly had been dreaming of for years, but one of the templars blocked the arrow with their shield. Javeen gritted her teeth and screamed an obscenity, but memorized the room Petrice ran into. The moment these morons were through, she would hunt that murderous scum down and-
She looked around, at all the fools. Maker, they were all just regular people living here, weren't they? What sort of religious promises did Petrice and Varnell sell them to face down the terror of Kirkwall?
Then she looked at Saemus. And any sympathy that was born from that vanished immediately.
The fight didn't not last long. Up against those who have fought golems and demons, these folk stood no chance. When the last of them fell, Javeen commanded her companions to follow where Petrice had escaped, but to her surprise, Petrice returned. With the Grand Cleric beside her.
"-you see? With every step they defile this place, killing innocents in your name! They must be dealt the highest punishment."
"I'm sure my name wouldn't like that," the Grand Cleric said cooly. She eyed the carnage and then Hawke. She was well aware that Javeen did not like or respect her, but in dealing with her the Grand Cleric knew what Javeen Hawke stood for.
Javeen nodded at her. "Grand Cleric."
"Don't you speak to her, you murdering qunari filth!" Petrice spat. "You see they bring their blasphemy here, on our doorstep? Killing poor Saemus who was coming back to us?"
"Saemus was never going back," Javeen said calmly. She was so livid that her words were calm. "He was tricked here into a trap to start a war with the Qunari, as was attempted before, with Joanna. I couldn't...I didn't save the victim this time." Her eyes glowed again at Petrice. "But again, I have the one responsible."
"Ridiculous!" Petrice screamed. "You defy the Maker Himself with your lies!"
"And you diminish Him, Mother," the Grand Cleric said, eyes narrowing towards her once companion. "I am not blind or stupid, Petrice. If Hawke wanted to kill the Viscount's son, she would not be caught in the act." She closed her eyes and sighed. "When they found potential Chantry involvement in the Linett case, I did not want to believe it. But I see things clearly now. You act on behalf of the Viscount, Hawke?"
Javeen nodded. "Then the Mother has erred in her ways," the Grand Cleric sighed.
Petrice lost all the confidence and smugness that defined her. "...Grand Cleric?"
"You will be tried in a court of law, as we are not above it. The Maker will judge you and your actions there." The Grand Cleric turned her back, and began making her way back to where they came from.
"...Grand Cleric?"
Dumbfounded, Petrice took a few steps towards her mentor and stopped herself. The Grand Cleric was leaving her to die. Hawke wasn't going to let her go this time. She glanced up at the stairs, where Saemus lay. As if questioning her choices, her expression went through many stages-anger, fear, denial, until she glanced back at Javeen drawing her weapon, and the fear came back.
But then her eyes trailed behind Javeen, and her mouth hung agape as she took a step back. Before Javeen could react, an arrow plunged into Petrice's chest-an arrow of Qunari make.
As she fell to the ground, Javeen turned to the source, and saw a face she was familiar with. A scout that had been sent along by the Arishok. She had almost forgot they were still on their way. He nodded to her as he lowered his bow.
"You stole my kill, friend." Her Qunlat was still understandable.
He shook his head. "No. She was always ours."
She conceded with a sigh. "You're right. It was a good shot." She walked up to Petrice's corpse and removed the arrow from her chest, taking it to him. "This arrow will only make things harder for the Compound. Take it with you."
He wouldn't take Saemus' body back of course. But he did search for Samus' viddathari earring and found it in his pocket. This was all they had of Saemus. He didn't have a tool or an object representing his soul yet. He never...he never got enough time. He took the earring back to the Compound so they could begin their funeral rites. Javeen stayed behind and sent for the Viscount.
Viscount Dumar cradled his son's body in his arms, sobbing freely. He barely noticed the corpses of Petrice and the other townsfolk, but that was to be expected. Javeen knelt next to him, silent. She was unsure what to say, if she should say anything. She knew exactly what this felt like. Thinking back, did anyone say anything to her as she held mother for the last time? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember much about that night now, except the worst parts.
It was Dumar that spoke to her first. "Hawke...what do I-oh Maker it hurts so much I don't know what to do-"
She put a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing you need to do right now. Take your time. I'll handle the rest."
She stayed beside him up until the guard came to retrieve both Dumars.