The windows in the ritual tower faced north, just like Vivienne wanted, so they were saved from the glare of the rising sun. Instead, while Varric sat quietly, resenting the early hour, the room gradually brightened. Hawke double checked her chalk runes one last time, smudged one of them slightly, then redrew it just a bit more to the left.
Beside him, Maria yawned into her elbow and blinked blearily over the steam rising from her mug. She took her coffee with so much milk and sugar that the beverage appeared more white than dark. He could smell the sweetness of it in the air even over his own more respectable brew.
He could smell it because Maria stood so maddeningly close that their arms brushed occasionally, casually. Stood closer to him than she'd been in ages, and like that wasn't distracting enough…
She was wearing his sweatpants. Again.
Oh, they couldn't actually be his sweatpants. His sweatpants, stolen by Cole for Maria's personal use, met their icy and fiery doom in Haven. But the ones she wore were damn near identical, faded as if they'd been washed and rewashed a hundred times and too large on her by far, tied around her hips with the drawstrings dangling low.
Hawke kept looking at them, tipping her head to the side every time, like she was trying to figure out where she'd seen them before. Maker help him if she finally made the connection because he'd truly feel bad throttling her after she commented on it. Varric would even shed a tear.
Although judging by the stormy looks from some of the attending crowd, he was far more likely to have to save Hawke than kill her himself. Maria looked relaxed, so did Dorian when he plopped into place on her other side without waiting for an invitation. Varric noted the human looked far too awake and put together for the asscrack of dawn. Solas, too, perched leisurely in one of the windows watching calmly, Nyx eating bird seed from his hand.
It was Cullen and Cassandra that wore matching scowls when Hawke stood from her work and rolled her shoulders. The two guarded the opposite end of the room, pointedly ignoring him while observing Hawke. His friend nodded, once, then looked to Maria. "Ready to find us a Warden, Inquisitor?"
"And you're sure this isn't going to blow a hole in my roof?" Maria asked, not bothering to look up from her mug.
"Alright, how was I supposed to know that if the orichalum got too close to…" Hawke protested.
"Any child in Tevinter would know it." Dorian sniffed. "It says everything we need to know about your Southern education system."
Hawke ignored him, frowning at Maria. "I still think your castle is being a bit dramatic about the whole thing."
The second he and Hawke dragged themselves back into this tower, the steps to the second floor alchemy lab cleanly folded up and vanished. They'd yet to reappear. Varric hadn't been able to resist chuckling at that.
"What do you require first?" Solas asked, dumping the remaining seed on the windowsill and straightening. Hawke held her hand out, frowning at her strange runes again. "Map, please."
Varric once made fun of Solas for his paper maps. Who knew he'd have to eat his words? Hawke settled on her knees in the middle of her chalk circle, unfolding the pastel colored map in front of her, frowning at the crisscrossing highways and roads. She brushed her fingers over them before she raised them into the air, snapping them together.
Flames jumped to life on the candles spaced equidistant around her, burning too high, too bright for a moment. Long enough for Maria to recoil on instinct, fingers tightening on her mug, curling slightly into Varric's bulk. Hawke flashed a not-quite apologetic enough smile and lifted her hand again. "Athame."
Solas handed over the fancy ritual knife with solemn respect. Hawke tossed it up in the air rather more lightheartedly, eyes still glued to Maria. "What do you know about magic, Inquisitor?"
"More than I did a month ago." Maria finally set her mug down behind them on the table, deciding she would rather not be holding a steaming hot beverage for this. Smart woman. Varric liked to live dangerously, he sipped at his in defiance.
"It's a tool." Hawke stated, clenching her jaw. "And rituals like this need ingredients. The right one for the right ritual. You can't make a cake with salt instead of sugar."
"You can, actually." Dorian pointed out. "It is just a rather terrible cake."
Hawke waved the athame threateningly in Dorian's direction and Maria bristled as Hawke snapped. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Says the woman explaining elementary magic while waving around a ritual dagger!" Dorian exclaimed. "Do get on with it before the demon you unleashed shows back up again to finish the job."
"I'm just trying to stave off the inevitable shouting from my stand-in disapproving parents the second I slice my arm open!" Hawke declared hotly.
"Hold on just a moment…" Cassandra leapt into action, hand going for the gun she wasn't actually wearing. Hawke lifted one eyebrow and speared Maria with a gaze that clearly said 'see what I mean?'
"I knew I should have stayed in bed today." Maria groaned under her breath, rubbing her forehead with her palm.
"Absolutely not." Cullen stepped into Hawke's circle, the candles burning brighter in warning. "Blood magic is forbidden and you should know the cost of it better than…"
"It isn't blood magic." Hawke rolled her eyes skyward and shot Varric a pleading look. Like he could actually help her. He didn't know this shit, although he was fairly certain Hawke should give up playing with blood. After all, hers had been the key ingredient to breaking Corypheus out of his cell. "Blood magic involves calling power from inside the blood, draining the life out of it. This is just an ingredient in a spell."
"A finding spell." Dorian mused thoughtfully, looking over to meet Solas's eyes. The elf nodded tersely. "Blood finding blood. Should I assume you and the Warden we're looking for are related?"
"She's my cousin." Hawke spat. "There's only three of us left, the Amells and Hawkes. I can find her when nobody else can, but this is the only way. Chantal isn't fucking stupid. She's not going to leave a trail."
"This may not be blood magic, but it is riding a technicality." Cassandra declared imperiously.
Cullen's face flushed in temper, a vein throbbing in his temple. "Chantal wouldn't want you practicing blood magic to… after what happened in the tower, after Jowan…"
"After her friend found a book the templars planted and tried out a little blood magic?" Hawke asked sarcastically. "Because seventeen year old kids make the best decisions as well all know. Did you stick up for her when they were going to make her tran…"
"Alright." Maria declared smoothly, shoving away from the table. "I'm not dealing with… whatever is going on here."
"Hawke is a danger to herself and others." Cullen snapped. "She is impetuous and reckless."
"Well, in that case, maybe you should have let Meredith gut me like a fish." Hawke drawled, tapping the flat of the blade against her arm. "Saved yourself the trouble."
"Do not make me regret…" Cullen threatened.
"The one moment of decency you ever had?" Hawke suggested snidely.
"Cassandra!" Maria slammed her palm on the table behind her, the sound drawing all eyes to her. "Is or is this not blood magic? More importantly, am I going to be up to my ass in demons if we let her do this?"
"It is unlikely." Cassandra glared at the dagger in Hawke's hand. "Some rituals like this were approved, in prior years, for research purposes. They were closely supervised."
"Excellent." Maria stated, eyes sliding to Cullen. "You're here. Closely supervising. What's the damn…"
"I refuse to be a part of this!" Cullen yelled. "She is a madwoman who puts her own needs ahead of..."
"I'm the only one who's trying to do anything to help beyond your remarkably patient Inquisitor." Hawke seethed.
"Cullen!" Maria raised her voice as well. "This decision has been made."
"You don't know. I've seen the worst of this kind of magic, this attitude of 'do what must be done.'" Cullen glared at Maria. "You must set a better…"
"I'm sorry." Maria tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared up at Cullen, indignant fury making her appear just as intimidating as the man looming over both her and Hawke. "I thought I was supposed to give the orders, not be told what I have to do."
A part of Varric whispered that he certainly wouldn't mind taking orders from her. Who knew how well she'd wear both her temper and the commanding aura of the Inquisitor? It brought a flush to her cheeks, iron to straighten her spine. He wouldn't get in her way when she wore that expression. Apparently, Curly agreed. He wrenched his gaze away from Maria's steely eyes. "On your head be it."
With that spiteful remark, the former templar nearly bowled over the Seeker in his effort to escape. Everyone watched him go in stunned, loaded silence. Varric saw Maria waver, looking to Cassandra for something, permission or perhaps, at least, acceptance.
"He has his reasons." Cassandra shrugged uneasily.
"They better be damn good ones." Maria snapped. "You people wanted me to…"
"I know." Cassandra sighed, rubbing her own forehead. "The choice is yours. I will support it, even if I am uneasy."
"The ritual should be safe, Inquisitor. Provided the Champion has described the intent of it accurately." Solas nodded as if to himself, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Of course, Serah Hawke did choose not to inform us of this little caveat yesterday." Dorian rumbled disapprovingly.
"It's better to ask forgiveness than permission sometimes." Hawke shrugged, but she too looked uneasy under Maria's searching gaze. "You can trust me, I swear. Champion's honor and right hand up to the Maker."
Maria didn't quite look convinced. She flipped her eyes from Hawke and pinned Varric with them instead like an interesting specimen under a microscope. She tipped her head barely to the right, a silent question.
"I trust Hawke with my life." Varric stated evenly. "She's never let me down."
"That isn't strictly true." Hawke twirled the knife in between her fingers anxiously. "Once, I forgot I was supposed to come up with some emergency to pull him out of a meeting. Poor Varric had to sit through the whole thing. Didn't talk to me for a week."
Maria made a decision, nodded to herself with a clenched jaw. "Right. Do it then."
"Thank Andraste." Hawke sighed, relieved, looking down at the map. "Thought we were gonna have our panties in a twist about that all day. Now if everyone could please stop polluting my nice casting circle with your negative energy…"
Cassandra and Maria stepped back, now on the opposite side of the room, staring at Hawke while she rolled up one of her sleeves. Without even flinching, his Champion slid the blade along the pale skin of her forearm, red welling to the surface in beads before falling down her skin like tears, onto the map below her.
"Freely flow, crimson that binds." Hawke began, the candles flickering around her as a light gust of wind blew her dark hair from her face. "Use this power, help me find…"
As Varric watched, the blood seemed to seep into the paper of the map, vanishing completely. The candles turned to torches, eclipsing even the sun coming through the windows. Hawke continued, smiling as she felt the magic race through her veins.
The witches always said magic was like being at a rave on all the best drugs. At times like this, Varric could see it too.
"Blood I seek, come to me. Wherever you hide, the sun shall see." Hawke demanded the map in front of her. Just like that, the candles snuffed themselves out, leaving Hawke alone in the sunlight streaming through the windows. For a second, everyone was still.
Then the map glowed. Varric heard Maria make a small, startled gasp. The power rippled through the paper, rustling it before it vanished in a bright burst. Hawke pulled her bleeding arm away and watched closely.
The droplets of blood reappeared slowly, marking a meandering path across Ferelden's highways. Varric took one step closer to watch as the blood trail stopped, a larger blot of scarlet marking the end of the line. Hawke grinned and looked up. "Chantal's outside of Crestwood."
"Are you shitting me?" Maria asked, leaning in from the opposite edge of the circle to watch the map reveal the Warden's hiding place.
"I know." Hawke fanned herself with the arm that wasn't bleeding. "I rock."
"She couldn't be anywhere else?" Maria demanded. Hawke frowned, annoyed.
"No. She's near Crestwood." The unsaid 'obviously' hung in the air. "She can't be anywhere else. My magic is spot on."
"Crestwood is the worst place she can be right now." Maria pulled back, rubbing her forehead with her marked palm. "You're not going to believe this, but Leliana and Josephine say there are fucking zombies attacking Crestwood."
"Oh." Hawke wilted and stared down at the map. "Actually, I do believe that. It's just my luck."
"Zombies?" Dorian asked, almost gleefully. "You of course mean reanimated corpses. I've heard there are Nevarran…"
"Well, Dorian just volunteered to go." Maria stated sourly, pulling her phone from her pocket. "Cass, can you figure out who else wants to take a field trip out of the castle to go find a warden? I'll tell Josie and Leliana. I think they said we have jeeps now, we could probably get them down the mountain pass.."
"We should leave as soon as possible, Inquisitor." Hawke advised. "My cousin won't stay still for long."
"Right." Maria blew out her breath and nodded. "Right. As soon as we can leave. Cass, let me know."
And with that, Maria turned on her own heel, hips rolling suggestively in his sweatpants, making it a bit hard to think. Still, he managed to get out the question. "Wait, Princess, you're not gonna stay and finish your coffee?"
"Cullen and I aren't done by a long shot!" She yelled back over her shoulder. "You can drink it!"
"I would advise against that, honestly." Dorian murmured, peering into the pale liquid distastefully. "You can hardly call that abomination she drinks coffee."
"Familiar with her coffee preferences now?" Varric asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral, masking his irritation.
"Hah! Her sugar preferences, more likely." Dorian sniffed, picking up her abandoned mug. "Who knew she would like things so syrupy sweet or that you would be so obtuse."
Varric opened his mouth to argue, but it was the look on Hawke's face that stopped him short. She had that look, the one like she swallowed a lemon whole. It was the one she wore when Aveline was right, and they all knew it, but nobody liked it.
"You're a fucking idiot, Varric." Hawke exclaimed. "And after I stop bleeding, we're going to go over how much of an idiot in extensive detail. Extensive."
Varric wished it was the first time he'd ever heard that statement.
xx
Maria carefully rehearsed the argument she was about to embark on. Cullen, after all, always proved reliable. She could rattle off his objections by rote without really even consulting him, like some guardian angel perched on her shoulder. Hell, she wasn't even certain he was the whole way wrong. She certainly didn't like the idea of people getting into the habit of slitting their arms open all the time. It seemed messy and unsanitary, to say the least, plus immensely disturbing. Hawke definitely should have told them what she wanted to do before just deciding to do it, but Maria couldn't blame her the whole way for that either. She had a point about forgiveness and permission.
But, Maria trusted Solas and Dorian. Including Vivienne, they were her experts on what exactly constituted safe and unsafe magical practices. And if Cullen didn't like it, that was fine. What wasn't fine was waving a sanctimonious finger in her face and storming off like a toddler throwing…
She slammed through the door to his office, eyes barely focusing on Cullen's broad form bent nearly double over his desk. She hardly opened her mouth before his arm lashed out, sending the container in front of him flying towards her.
She twisted to the left on reflex even though the object went wide regardless, shattering against the cold stone to the right of the door. She registered the sound of splintering wood, cracking glass, as she flailed for the stone wall behind her with one hand to ground herself back to the castle, back to the present, back to…
The empty bottle of vodka nearly hit the side of her head, which would have been worse than it shattering harmlessly on the wall. As it was, her jaw throbbed, but she refused to place a hand over the part she knew would bruise. "One simple job…" Dwyka seethed, big feet crunching the shattered glass beneath his boots as he approached. "Can you not even handle one simple job, Cadash?"
"Maker's breath!" The closest Cullen ever got to swearing. He hurried to her side, booted feet crunching the glass, one hand reaching out for her shoulder, dark fury written on every line of his face. "Are you-"
"Don't touch me." She flinched back, pressing her marked, aching palm against the stone. Cullen froze in response to her order, shooting a despairing glance not at her, but at the broken object at their feet. His hand curled into a fist and he dropped it to his side like a stone.
"I'm a fool." He declared. Maria watched him, wary of his every movement, but Cullen's anger seemed directed only towards himself and the box. "I could have hurt you. Or anyone else that happened to… Maker's breath. I'm sorry, Inquisitor. Please forgive me."
The fight went out of him, leaving nothing but a pit of despair that he visibly sank into while he cast despondent eyes at the mess on the floor. Maria chanced looking away from him long enough to examine the ruins of whatever he'd thrown. Wood, decorative and ornate. Glass. Some sort of mechanism to inject…
And lyrium. She could feel it in her teeth, the same way she always could, a bright pulse of power she barely understood but would recognize anywhere after so long smuggling it. The blue powder shimmered in the early morning light.
"Why are you throwing your lyrium kit at the walls?" She asked, unwilling to move closer to comfort him, but curious in spite of herself. "I don't know how many extras we have for you to be destroying…"
"I do not require it." Cullen stated, biting the inside of his cheek and refusing to look at her. "We have enough kits for the templars who remain, although securing a reliable source of lyrium to resupply is essential. We will have enough to last a week, perhaps two, particularly since I no longer take it."
At first, she thought she'd misheard. She stared at him, trying to process, before echoing him. "You stopped taking lyrium? You just stopped?"
Templars didn't stop taking lyrium. Dwykwa used to laugh and say it was the one part of his business he could always count on going well. Templars used until they died, either responsibly under care of Chantry, or illicitly care of Maria Cadash and all the other Carta rats scurrying around Thedas.
Templars, for all their importance, were really just junkies waiting to fall into the Carta's arms.
"After Kirkwall… I had considered it." Cullen admitted. "Surviving the madness that was Meredith changed me. Made me leave the templars. But I continued to take lyrium until… until I saw what became of my brothers and sisters at Haven. I… I thought I recognized some of them."
Once, the monsters that destroyed Haven had been people. She'd forgotten, or blocked it out. Maybe she had to, to survive it all. Cullen didn't have that luxury, she guessed, not when it could have been him.
Not when he may have recognized the faces behind the grotesque red lyrium madness.
"How long?" Maria asked softly. "How long since you took your last dose?"
"That night." Cullen admitted, finally meeting her eyes. "The night Haven was attacked."
Balls. The poor man had to be most of the way into withdrawal. She should have noticed sooner, should have figured out the stick up his ass was more implacable than normal. She sighed.
"I understand if you have concern over my ability to perform my duties." Cullen retreated into careful, studied formality. The kind that seemed so bizarre and old-fashioned to her. "I meant to inform you, but there were so many other pressing items of business. I cannot guarantee that I am the best person to lead the troops, if you would like my resignation I would offer it."
He would, Cullen didn't lie. And even as he said it, Maria saw the desperation lurking around his eyes. He would turn over his command if she asked, because he was a good soldier and they had made her their leader, but he didn't want to. She wondered if, perhaps, it was the only thing still driving him out of bed everyday.
"You'll inform Josephine and Leliana." Maria instructed quietly. She saw Cullen tense, but she kept going. "Of what you're doing and that you're designating a second in command. I don't care who it is, Rylen seems fine if you want my opinion. The second can jump in if you're jonesing too bad to do something and can make sure your judgment isn't going to shit."
"Inquisitor I am uncertain if this is wise." Even as he said it, Maria saw Cullen's eyes dancing with shocked hope. "If word gets out…"
That the Carta criminal turned semi-heretical religious figure had a junkie running her army? Sweet mother of Andraste, whatever they were paying Josephine was not enough. "We'll deal with it." She declared.
Cullen's shoulders relaxed, his fist uncurled. A small, crooked smile that looked both pleased and shy made him look boyish. Young. It softened her temper just enough.
Maria held his gaze, still determined to make a point. "I'll cut you a pass on whatever the fuck just happened in the ritual tower, but I don't want to reamed out like a naughty kid again. Especially in front of other people."
His frown returned in force. "There is a cost to drawing power through the means Hawke advises we use. The Champion of Kirkwall is a tempest, for all the good she has done, she is dangerous. What she advocates blurs the lines between good and evil and she knows it."
Maria knew those lines were always blurry, and Hawke wasn't the first one to settle in the foggy area between them. "I've seen it." Cullen looked haunted, hollow. "I've seen what comes from treading this path."
"If there's a price to pay, I'll make sure I'm the one that pays it." Maria insisted, pushing away from the wall to walk closer to the shattered lyrium kit, careful not to step on any of the pieces. She hunkered down next to it and frowned.
"You can't guarantee that."
"Yes I can." Maria knew how to take a blow, after all. She looked up at Cullen and jerked her chin over her shoulder. "Take a walk and I'll clean this up. No reason to fucking torture yourself with it."
"Inquisitor, I can't…" Cullen began to insist.
"That's an order Cullen." Maria decreed without looking up. "Take a walk and let me deal with this."
"I… if that is what you wish. Inquisitor. Thank you."
She didn't see him salute, but she wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if he did. He walked away, the door shutting gently behind him with a soft thud. In the silence, Maria looked down at the mess and repressed a shiver.
It was time to clean up the pieces and start over. Maybe for all of them.
xx
Maria huddled under the blanket in the backseat of the jeep, staring down at her phone thoughtfully. The wind whipped past, the soft top of their vehicle rolled down in spite of the cutting cold, mostly to fit the hulking Qunari driving in front of her. Maria, luckily, didn't need the leg room because Bull had the seat pushed back to it's limit. Instead, she curled up underneath the blankets Dorian layered around them, the hood of her coat pulled around her face.
Leliana: The mines outside of Ostwick still have a skeletal crew, despite payments and supplies being shipped sporadically since your departure. It seems Dwyka did not take the care you did to see them looked after.Maria: Shocking. Let me guess, he still expected lyrium?
Leliana: Fear kept the mines operational in spite of his carelessness. My agent has made tentative inquiries about their willingness to supply the Inquisition.
Maria: I'm sure that went well.
Lelaina: It did indeed! They have more respect for you than you suspect, it seems you have been adept at breeding loyalty for many years.
Maria: You're joking.
Leliana: I am not. We can see them supplied and these mines will solve the issue of locating a reliable source of lyrium. Shall I execute an agreement?
Maria drummed her fingers on her thigh thoughtfully. They needed lyrium for the templars that had stuck with the Inquisition, but also to power the witches who formed the fragile wall around the refugees and civilians calling Skyhold home. If they were attacked again, they needed every advantage.
But could she risk stealing Dwyka's lyrium mines?
The very thought of it made bile rise up her throat. When he found out, he'd be furious, and so much of the past years had been about trying desperately not to make him angry. She'd spent so long walking a tightrope, hiding the things that would set him off, swallowing her own temper, shoving her own words into her pockets...
When he found out, what would he do to her? To Bea?
Nothing. A brave, reckless part of her insisted he couldn't do anything to her, not anymore. Bea was tucked safely in the bright, bejeweled room Skyhold provided for her, helping Josephine sweet talk everyone into order. There was a magic castle surrounding her sister and a small army of soldiers and witches.
Maria herself had a pistol strapped to her hip. Would she get away with shooting him? Would he dare risk crossing her now?
Maybe. If he'd convinced himself there was something more than coercion and violence in their farce of a relationship…
But there wasn't.
Maria: Do it then.Maria dropped her phone into her lap and looked back out to the countryside passing by, trying to ignore the nausea rising in her stomach by focusing on anything else. Getting out of the mountains had been the difficult part, but Cullen swore up and down he'd have the path clear by the time they came back. They were able to navigate into some old logging dirt roads, which led to a bumpy ride down the mountain, but at the bottom it was a quick turn back onto twisting backroads.
None of her advisors wanted them on the highwaysm but it wasn't like they'd been reliable ways to travel before Haven fell anyway. Ferelden had suffered in the witches' war, perhaps more than anywhere beside Kirkwall. Unfortunately, it was going to take them hours longer to make it to Crestwood, navigating through towns that barely had stoplights, meandering down pothole infested country roads winding through the barest landscape Maria ever saw. For miles, there were only abandoned, ghostly looking farms complete with skinny, tall cows staring at them from the fields. Pickup trucks sat abandoned on the side of the road without a person in sight, nothing but the fog curling around wild looking crops and the never ending mist that couldn't quite be called rain.
"Quaint, isn't it?" Dorian sniffed in clear disgust. "Nothing but rustic charm everywhere you look."
"These people had the right idea, hunkering down." Bull mused strategically. "Farmers can support themselves for a long while, and most of them know how to shoot. Won't do much against a pissed off templar or witch, but better than nothing."
"What people?" Maria asked the back of Bull's head. For all she could tell, they were the last people in the world beyond the other jeep driving in front of them containing Varric, Hawke, Harding, and Blackwall.
"Someone is letting those cows out to graze, boss. Someone's tending the fields. We won't see 'em though. As soon as they heard a car, they probably bolted to their root cellars. Bomb shelters if they're doomsday preppers." Bull instructed, shooting a glance in the rearview mirror and flashing her a small grin. "Missing their chance to meet the Inquisitor in the flesh."
Maria scoffed and dropped her eyes back to her phone. Dorian sighed. "Poor things. Meeting you probably would have been the most exciting thing that's happened in years."
"If you do not count the war." Cassandra grumbled.
"Oh, I'm Tevinter." Dorian preened, waving away her complaint. "We've been at war with the Qun for two generations. If I got all hot and bothered by a war…"
Bull's grin turned lascivious in a second. "Clearly, you've never seen the Berseerad in full armor or you'd change your tune."
"Vishante kaffas." Dorian swore, wrinkling his nose. "Although, I must admit, I have been wondering how a decorated member of the Ben-Hassrath felt having a Vint behind him."
"Not the first time." Bull winked. Dorian scowled.
"Strange. Retired generals don't leave Par Vollen. Almost nobody leaves Par Vollen. What kind of man abandons the home he fought his whole life for?" Dorian asked pointedly.
"Dorian…" Maria interjected. But Bull's grin didn't falter.
"I'm just a man who saw the worst of his homeland and burned out. Like looking in a mirror for you isn't it, Dorian?"
The shock that rippled across Dorian's features nearly made her laugh out loud, she bit her lip to suppress it. "I'm going to vomit." He declared.
"When we get out to stretch our legs, I'll flex a little. Make it easier for you."
Cassandra scoffed but Maria broke out into giggles, hiding more of her face into the hood of her coat and looking down at the buzzing phone in her hand. She swiped to accept the message.
Harding: We need to stop soon or Blackwall is going to strangle Hawke.Maria shook her head and sighed, typing her response.
Maria: What's Varric doing?Harding: Taking notes for his next book, I think.
She reached around the front seat to lightly tap Bull's bicep. "Those four need to stop."
"Again?" Cassandra asked, indignant.
"We may need to give Blackwall a break. Could you drive the other car, Cass?" Maria asked.
Bad move. Cassandra immediately scowled. "I will not be stuck in a vehicle with that conniving…"
Maria tapped an affirmative response to Harding as she interrupted the rant. "I'll switch with Varric then and go with you."
"I refuse to be abandoned without your sparkling company so I will also be jumping ship." Dorian informed her regally.
"Told your sister I'd stick with you. Really don't want a knife between my ribs when she finds out I let you off on your own." Bull rumbled.
Assigned seating. Her biggest challenge as Inquisitor was going to be assigned seating. She tried not to despair as she pinched her nose. The mark in her hand prickled uncomfortably, the way it always did the second she started to stress herself out. "Alright then. Blackwall can just sit in Cassandra's lap and we'll let Hawke drive the other jeep."
She had hoped to reveal how unreasonable they were being, but Dorian simply stroked his mustache, amused. "Don't be ridiculous. You would be the one sitting in someone's lap, clearly."
"Hawke cannot drive." Cassandra stated firmly. "She does not have a legitimate driver's license."
"Wait, what?" Maria asked, intrigued, irritation momentarily forgotten. "All humans have driver's licenses."
"She could not get one as a teenager due to the risk of exposing the family to undo scrutiny. So the Champion never received one." Cassandra revealed.
"Ancestors, Cass. Did you read the whole manuscript of Varric's book?" Maria asked. The resulting flush on Cass's face answered her question nicely. Cass resolutely stared ahead, floundering to change the subject.
"Do dwarves not receive driver's licenses?" She asked. "Varric has his."
Varric and his family could afford the modified cars to drive in. Maria's own father had a license, but only for one of the small police motorcycles he insisted Maria and Bea were never allowed on. "Dwarves have the good sense to live in cities, for the most part. Public transportation. Subways. Bodega coffee." Maker, she missed the shitty bodega coffee. Who knew she would?
"Karaoke bars. Rivaini takeout." Dorian added on wistfully, looking around the desolate countryside.
"You're informing me that you can hotwire a car, but you cannot drive one?" Cassandra whipped around to stare.
Maria shrugged under her blankets. "I watched a lot of car thefts but I never drove off with the car."
Bull chuckled warmly. "And that's the story I want her sticking to. As her lawyer."
"I am informing Cullen." Cassandra pulled out her own phone, frowning. "Somebody needs to teach you. It would not hurt to learn evasive maneuvers as well."
She wondered if that was actually as cool as it sounded. Probably not.
The gas station with one whole pump melted out of the fog and the turn signal on the jeep in front of them immediately blinked on. Blackwall turned so sharply into the parking lot that the tires threw up a spray of gravel. Bull coasted in behind them, but he hadn't even thrown the car in park before Blackwall was fleeing from the inside of the other car, face red, followed by Hawke's piercing laugh.
"Cass, make sure he doesn't get stomped to death by cows, please." Maria requested, watching the man flee into the nearest field.
"But please make sure you film it up to the death part. We could use a laugh." Dorian added as Maria swung out of the car. Hawke had emerged from the other front seat, still laughing, eyes sparkling. From the backseat, Varric followed. The smile he wore curled up in amusement, his own eyes laughing.
For a second, the whole world brightened in spite of the fog.
Dorian wrapped one arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side as they sidled up to the store proper. She dropped her eyes to his strong, sure fingers curling into her shoulder and then swept them back up to his face. "What are you doing?"
"Escorting you into this decrepit hole in the wall. And annoying someone." Dorian offered up the explanation that was no explanation at all like it made perfect sense.
"Is the person you're annoying me?" Maria asked, nearly tripping as Dorian's long stride struggled to match hers.
"My dear, I'm helping you. Trust me." Dorian reassured, swinging the door open and poking his noble nose through like he could sniff out any danger. Maria looked over her shoulder, counting the team behind her like a farmer counting hens. Bull examined the gas pump, Harding at his elbow. Cass strode determinedly after Blackwall while Hawke watched. And Varric…
Varric was looking at her, his smile dimming into something wistful. She tipped her head to the side, asking what was wrong without any words.
He just shook his head, plastering on that genial face again, leaving her unsure she had seen anything at all. She tried to ignore how empty that feeling was.
Dorian ushered her into the store, frowning at the darkened aisles. "Lovely. How much of this junk food do you suppose is expired?"
"Oh!" Hawke darted past quickly, brilliant as a brightly colored bird, grabbing a handful of some pre-packaged pastry off the shelf and turning to Maria with a grin. "You can't get these in the Free Marches. Varric used to have them on auto-ship to my house. They're stuffed with mocha frosting, you'd love them."
She probably would. Dorian might object to the treasure trove of junk food, but Maria could gladly purchase one of everything to take back to Skyhold. She wondered if they even had shitty coffee they could make for her.
With lethal and agile grace, Hawke inserted herself smoothly between Maria and Dorian, dragging Maria down the aisle to the cash register. "Varric's such a mom." Hawke confided softly. "But dammit if I could complain when these kept showing up. He's got a soft mocha center too, you know. Under all that chest. I bet he's just as delic.."
Oh she was not having this conversation with Hawke. It felt too raw. Felt too much like a memory of this woman (not this woman. This one was too bright, too unbroken) pushing him back into her as she burned alive. She couldn't confront that. Not here, not outside of Skyhold's walls.
"There's nobody here." Maria interrupted. "Think they abandoned it?"
"More for us!" Hawke declared brightly. "Do you think they have those chewy caramels? They're Varric's favorite."
"I'm sorry." Dorian smirked from another aisle, looking up from his critical examination of a bag of chips. "Chewy caramels? Is he secretly an eighty year old grandmother?"
"Listen here, Magister. Those are potato chips, normal, non-soul sucking people like to eat them." Hawke explained with wide-eyed innocence. "No elves to do your bidding. It's understandable you're confused."
Maybe they all just liked to argue with each other. Maria ignored their sniping and hoisted herself up and over the counter, turning to the cash register. Something in this place felt wrong, made her right arm tingle, a warmth bursting to life in her palm. She frowned at the register and slammed her fist into it just right to make the cash drawer pop open with a familiar clatter.
That silenced the bickering. Maria looked up to find Hawke staring at her with wonder written on her features, warring with something that looked like admiration. "Holy balls, that was sexy. Do it again! Or, actually, teach me to do it."
"You're a witch, you can't just make it open?" Maria asked, waving at the register.
"I could, but you made it look so much cooler." Hawke perched her elbows on the counter, leaning on it and watching Maria sweep her gaze over the full drawer of cash.
Something was wrong. If they abandoned this place, they didn't abandon it with money left behind in the register.
"Do you two feel something?" Maria asked, looking up and around the small space. "Anything?"
"Intrigued and slightly aroused." Hawke supplied a lewd wink with her comment.
"Regret about some key life choices." Dorian sighed, looking back down at the chips despondently.
She brought the two most helpful witches on this little jaunt, apparently. Maria slipped from behind the counter, wary and anxious. Hawke and Dorian watched her, curious but not alert.
Maria's skin prickled. She felt something high-pitched in her teeth. She pointed her eyes at the cooler lining the far wall, rows of brightly colored bottles displayed with a dim blue light behind them. There was a small hallway to the side, restrooms tucked in one corner, a heavy door leading into the walk-in cooler to the left.
Maria reached for the walk-in cooler door, wrapped her marked hand around the handle and paused, momentarily disoriented. She felt like the pressure dropped, her ears popped loudly. She swung her gaze from the door handle to the tile floor beneath her feet.
Just in time to watch a crack appear from underneath the door, spreading from somewhere inside the cooler.
"Cadash!" Dorian yelled, finally sensing the same wrongness.
Before she could respond, the doors to the cooler shattered, glass scattering, bottles breaking and thrown, a mix of bright colors and fizzing liquid among the popping glass. A scream that raised all the hair on her arms cut through the air as something, a creature wreathed in shadow, climbed out over the shelves. When it turned to her, Maria stared into a face made of nothing but a circle of bright, pointed teeth in mottled blue-white flesh. It's gaping maw was large enough to swallow her whole, shred her flesh to ribbons on those teeth, and pointed right at her.
Shit, Mara thought, scrambling for her gun. Shit.
AN: Thank you so much for the compliments! And the lovely guest review who guessed this flirting was gonna start with Dorian and Bull! 3
