Fall (part 2)
Fenris showed Bethany to a small room where she could change. Then he returned to get the fire going. He was still soaked from his journey back from Hawke's estate, but at least now he had something else to think about besides his last conversation with Marian.
The elf sighed. To say that Hawke's sister's arrival here tonight was unexpected was a gross understatement. It had been years since he had seen Bethany Hawke, ever since Hawke and Anders had given her to the wardens during their expedition to the deep roads. He still remembered how sick she had been that day, barely able to stand up by the time they found the Abomination's former allies. At the time Fenris had not wanted to let them take her, but knew they had no other choice, left unattended the blight sickness would kill the girl.
Fenris shook his head.
Back then, all they could do to help her was offer her mercy, a release from the pain, a quick and painless death.
Now she was back in Kirkwall, here in his home.
He could not help but wonder why.
Soon he had a roaring fire going, the orange light throwing shadows over the walls. Despite the warmth he shivered, his own wet armor reminding him that he needed to change.
Fenris went to the old pack he kept in the corner of the room. He had few belongings that he called his own, a repair kit for his sword and armor, a few trinkets that had amused him during his travels, a plain white shirt and some slightly frayed trousers.
He quickly stripped off his armor. Once he had changed he would need to see to its repair and drying. The armor had saved his life many times, and he had no coin for a new set.
Hawke would have helped him of course, but his pride prevented him from asking. Perhaps he had spent too much time on his own in the last few years, or perhaps he did not wish to be anymore beholden to Hawke that he already was?
The chains on his heart were tight enough already, he had no desire to make them tighter.
He had fetched some towels from the linen closest down the hall, two he had given to Bethany, the rest he had brought back here. He quickly went about drying himself off.
He stood near the bed, clad in only his leggings; he dried his bare chest before slipping his old shirt over his head. Once that was done he saw to the rest of him, removing and servicing his armor, then slipping on his old trousers.
By the time he was done he felt a hundred times better, the shivers had stopped and he no longer creaked when he walked. He carried the armor over to the fire to dry. He inspected it for any damage as he oiled and saw to the various plates and straps.
Outside there was another loud rumble of thunder. He barely paid it a second thought. Now that he was back in the old mansion, he was back in safe territory.
Even with his uninvited guest down the hall. He…
"Fenris?"
He glanced up. Bethany stood in the doorway, staff in hand. She was wrapped in nothing but a heavy black fur blanket. It was wrapped around her in way that left her shoulders free, giving him a good view of her slender neck and pale shoulders. Her feet were bare, and by the dim like he could just make out the barest trace of skin on her ankles.
He arched his eyebrow curious about her state of undress.
She shrugged dismissively.
"The rain soaked me completely," she explained. Even the clothes in my pack were wet."
She tilted her head slightly.
"That is not a problem is it?"
He grunted and shook his head no. He motioned for her to take a place near the fire. This mansion could be drafty at night.
He saw no reason that he should not at least try to be a good host.
The mage sat her staff against the wall and joined him by the fire. She folded her pale legs underneath herself, adjusting the blanket so that she could get more comfortable. She said nothing as she began holding her hands out to catch warmth from the flames.
For a while they said nothing, they just sat there, content, watching the fire and trying to banish the cold wetness that was outside these walls. The shadows playing off the walls gave the room an almost otherworldly feel, like they were the last two people left in all of Thedas.
Outside the rain continued to fall.
The silence was not exactly…uncomfortable, but there was something in the air, a slight charge.
Neither of them would have acknowledged it, even if they had been asked.
There was simply…something…there, and it was just not the quiet.
…A quiet that could not last.
It was Bethany who finally broke it.
"You would not happen to have anything to eat, would you?" she gave him a wan smile.
"I've been living off dried rations for weeks."
Fenris nodded and rose from his place. Occasionally, Hawke would drop off small baskets of food for him. She knew how Hightown merchants liked to gouge elves on the prices of their goods. Lowtown was not much better. He traded with the Alienage elves from time to time, but they did not have many food goods to spare. Nothing grew in the Alienage but that big tree of theirs. The smoke from the foundries made growing anything in the Alienage next to impossible.
He pulled out a small loaf of bread and several apples. He offered her half the bread and the piece of fruit. She smiled gratefully and took them both.
He blinked as he searched through the basket.
"I only have aggregio to drink," he said, "I could find you some water…?"
"Aggregio is fine," she said softly, "I…what?"
His ears twitched with amusement.
"What?" she repeated.
He chuckled softly.
"I let you try aggregio once," he reminded, "It did not work out so well."
She snorted at his concern.
"Things have changed," she said coolly.
She plucked the bottle of wine from its place on the floor. It seemed that she had something to prove. It was a challenge she would not shirk. She uncorked the bottle, and put it to her lips, and took a long hard drink, barely pausing to swallow.
Fenris was speechless.
He remembered back when the girl agreed to help him with her sister, the day she promised to help him catch the elder Hawke's eye. The two had drunk on it; well he had drunk on it…
She had taken a single sip of aggregio and started sputtering, it took titanic effort on her part but she managed to keep from vomiting.
It had amused him at the time, now…now…
She had showed him just how much she had changed.
Hawke's sister did not even blink. She gave him a pleased smile and sat it back down.
The elf shook his head.
"That was…surprising," he said.
Again she gave him that slight smile.
"I've drunk worse things than Tevinter wine in the last few years, believe me," she answered.
Despite the darkness and the rain he actually chuckled.
A slight warmth tickled the pit of his stomach, and it had nothing to do with the fire.
Bethany almost smirked.
Outside the rain continued to fall.
Within the estate, the storm was just starting to build.
It was not there yet, but soon…
Soon…
It would come.
IOI
Bethany Hawke stared into the fire, her fingers picking idly at the bread Fenris had offered her, listening to the rain falling hard on the roof of the old estate.
The warden mage shivered slightly, she shifted the fur up a little bit on her shoulder, enjoying the feel of soft fur on her bare skin.
She sighed softly, trying to ignore the slight buzzing in her head, the buzzing that had nothing to do with the wine she had drank seconds earlier.
She frowned.
That particular buzzing never went away, and it likely never would.
The taint was always there, and it always would be, and…
…it was slowly driving her mad.
It had been a long time since she had been this close to Kirkwall, a very long time indeed. When she wasn't in the warden base at Ansburg she was travelling with her scouting group, checking on deep roads entrances and making sure that no darkspawn raiding parties reached the surface.
It was rare when they did get a chance to stop and rest, and when they did she usually kept to herself. She did not go to taverns and brothels that the rest of the young wardens chose to frequent. She spent her time preparing, restocking the supplies she needed for the next leg of their journey, or writing a quick letter home to mother.
Some of her fellow wardens had come to see her as arrogant, but that was not the case at all.
Since joining the order she had been surrounded by death. Half of the people she had served her first year with were now dead. During the early days of her training she had spent a lot of time travelling with Stroud, when he was not leading scouting groups he was out recruiting.
Bethany had met many a new warden recruit in her first year, elves, humans, dwarves. Most of those recruits had been hard men, dangerous men, but a few had been nice.
She winced.
Darren had been nice.
They had travelled together for several weeks before actually returning to Ansburg. He had been smart, outgoing, and handsome. She had been new to the order then, lonely and shy. Darren had…had…
She just managed to suppress a whimper.
The senior wardens had treated her harshly in the beginning. They saw her as a charity case, unworthy of the role she had been forced into. When things got bad in that first year, and they had, she at least had Darren to talk to.
It had been nice. He had been nice.
He had even saved her life once. A hurlock alpha had knocked her down during a darkspawn raid on a small farm; the creature had stood over her, wielding a massive maul. She could still see it so clearly, its black armor spider webbed with the taint, its yellow-gray flesh bruised and covered with black sores. That horrible wide mouth, full of fangs, a mouth that had no real lips, it had been ready to crush her head with its weapon when Darren had saved her.
He had rushed head long into danger, he had pushed the monster back, gave her time to regain her feet and bring her magic back into the fight.
They had killed the beast together, the two of them. After that something had changed between them.
They had become lovers the very next night. She had given Darren her innocence and he had given her a night of peace…
…A peace that had ended when they reached Ansburg, when he had taken the joining, or rather when he had refused to take the joining.
Darren was brave, but that did not mean he wished to bond himself to the darkspawn. He had refused. Stroud insisted. He still refused.
Darren drew a hidden blade; he pushed the chalice away and ran, out of the little chapel in Ansburg, past his brothers. He had had no plan; it was panic, pure and simple.
He had tried to flee; she had been standing witness that night, watching the door. It had been the fourth joining she had seen. She had watched as seven warden recruits had perished, stood by while their fellows succeeded.
Darren did not succeed.
Darren…had been the eighth.
Stroud had ordered her to stop him, and despite everything, how she felt, what they had shared…
She had done her duty, at the cost of her soul.
Darren had died in her arms, her dagger between his ribs.
He had looked into her eyes, just as he had the night they had first become lovers. Those eyes were panicked, in shock, and pleading for an explanation.
She had whimpered.
She had none to give.
"I'm sorry," she had mouthed.
If he heard her she did not know. His eyes had been wide with fear and surprise, then…the light left them, all life left them.
There was nothing she could do for him then. She simply held him until he was gone.
Gone forever.
It was the least she could do.
She cried that very night, it was the last time she allowed herself to do so.
Darren was dead, and she had killed him.
She…had killed him.
What else could be said?
After that, none of the other wardens questioned her commitment to the order.
None dared.
After that, she had stood apart from the others; it was better that way, safer.
She buried her heart deep, and decided it would never again see the light.
It was the only thing she could do.
The only way she could survive.
IOI
Bethany stared idly into the flames. The cold melancholy of Darren's memory washed over her. It was far colder than the rain that had soaked her on her journey here…
…Colder and far more painful.
The wardens rarely travelled this close to Kirkwall, and when they did they tended to avoid the city. The Templars in the Gallows did not like them. Yet even the Templars could stop them from investigating reports of darkspawn along the wounded coast.
The chantry's soldiers did not deal darkspawn; they were unprepared for the beasts. So they had let the wardens in, just this once.
The grey wardens did their duty, and Bethany had found herself with a unique opportunity.
Stroud had come to respect in her the last few years. It was because of that respect that he offered her a chance to journey into Kirkwall proper, to pay a visit to her family.
It was an offer she could not refuse.
The sky had been darkening even then, but she had left with little but a light cloak and her pack.
She had hoped to beat the storm, but some storms cannot be beaten. Had she hurried she might have, but something slowed her pace. She had ended up walking when she should have been running.
The rain started to fall.
She had been too close to the city to stop, so she had pushed on, letting the foul weather drench her, but that was not what slowed her approach to the Amell estate.
It was not the storm outside that slowed her.
It was the storm within.
She wanted to see her mother, to hear her voice, feel her touch, and smell her perfume. She wanted to remember her old life again, just for a few moments, but mother was not the only one waiting in Kirkwall was she?
Marian was there too.
Bethany had wrestled many times with her feelings regarding her sister. She loved Mari; she did not deny that, but…but…
She also remembered that it was Marian that had given her to the Grey Wardens. It was Marian who had expected the order to save her.
The warden mage frowned.
Her sister had not understood, Anders had tried to warn her, but she had not listened.
Now, Bethany knew the truth.
The wardens had changed her, and not all for the better. She had done things in the last year that still haunted her, things that tore away at her conscience.
She had done horrible things, while Mari lived in a shiny estate by the sea.
It was not right.
It was not fair.
It was this conflict that slowed her steps, slowed her until even her small clothes were drenched.
She was not even really thinking when she found herself in front of Fenris' home.
All she knew was that she could not continue onto the Hawke estate, not like this.
Not tonight.
She did not wish to face mother looking so bedraggled. She did not wish to see pity in the older woman's eyes, and she did not wish to here Mari make some glib sarcastic comment, any glib or sarcastic comment.
She likely would have hit her sister if she had.
So, now here she sat across from her old friend across from Fenris.
Bethany shook her head.
There was a time that she would have blushed furiously being here in such a state of undress, being here alone with him.
But that had been a different time, and a different her.
Bethany Hawke had been too innocent back then.
Innocence was one of the first things to go when you joined the wardens.
It was caught in the storm of battle, drowned in a sea of black blood, drowned…
…And washed away.