Chapter SIXTY
It was late afternoon on the 14th day of Aria serving as Guard-Captain. Isabela had taken Tristan back to the estate for a snack and a nap. Aria sat in Aveline's chair at the enormous, polished wood desk, listening to a couple of elderly nobles arguing over property lines. They were waiting for Seneschal Brann to arrive with the maps. Fenris sat in the corner in one of the overstuffed armchairs, his arms crossed over his chest and the fingers of one hand testily thrummed a slow rhythm on his bicep. He flicked his gaze at Aria as they listened to the two whiny old men bickering.
"Gentlemen, please," Aria said after a moment. "Do have a seat and wait patiently while the Seneschal digs out the property maps."
"But he is saying the land that my great grandmother's rose bush, which has grown there for nearly two centuries now, is suddenly his property! It's been there for two centuries!" the older of the two men, who looked to be an octogenarian, warbled, adjusting his stiff collar. Sweat beaded on his brow and Aria watched as a droplet sluiced down his neck to disappear under the collar of his shirt.
"Your grandfather displaced it when he put in that ugly damn heron fountain!" the younger, man of the two, a man who appeared around 60 said, pointing one knotted, too-long finger at the other.
"That was nearly a hundred years ago! Haven't you got anything better to do than hassle an old man who just wants to tend his flowers?" the older cried piteously.
Seneschal Brann returned with the maps and together, he and Aria spread them out on the desk's lacquered surface. Fenris assisted in holding one end of them, while Brann held down the other, and Aria looked at the property lines in dispute. Surely enough, the area in question had been encroached upon, but only just. She showed this to the two men and the younger one whooped in victory and hollered at the older one.
"I told you!" he chortled, wagging his finger in the older man's face. "I told you, didn't I! You're wrong!"
"But the roses belong to my grandmother," the older man whimpered, his filmy blue eyes misting and his bottom lip quivering. Aria grimaced, pitying the poor man.
"Be that as it may," Aria stated, loudly enough to silence them. "By your own admission, Ser Tulloch, the rosebush is the property of Ser Atholl."
"But it's on my land! Therefore it's mine!" Ser Tulloch, the younger man roared, his face going purple with rage. "It's mine, you refugee upstart! I don't know about the laws in Ferelden-"
"I'm afraid that given what you've already admitted to everyone here," Senescal Brann sniffed, interrupting, "the rosebush is not in fact yours—it is Ser Atholl's. And by your admission, here, among law enforcement, that is a legal, binding statement."
Ser Tulloch flushed crimson again and clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes wide and pupils constricted in fury. "So what would you have us do then, hmm? Give up our rightful land?!"
"Or, you know, you could go with a far simpler solution and have Ser Atholl transplant the rosebush back onto his land," Aria suggested, horrified at the idiocy being displayed by Ser Tulloch.
"But he'd be taking the earth beneath with it, and that's mine!" Ser Tulloch wailed, stamping his foot like a five-year-old.
"The edict stands. Ser Atholl, you have until tomorrow at sundown to remove the rosebush from Ser Tulloch's land and must transplant at least twenty paces from the property line. Ser Tulloch, you will regain full usage of the vacated land once the rose bush is removed," Aria sharply barked, rolling up the maps and handing them to the Seneschal. "I will be sending Guards Brennan and Perrin to ensure that you two remain civil. Good day."
Ser Atholl nearly burst into tears and clasped Aria's hand in both of his. He shook it vigorously before departing, tears rolling down his cheeks. Ser Tulloch stomped angrily away, nearly running into a guard on his way out. Perrin and Brennan followed them out and the Seneschal waited until everyone who was departing had gone.
"Serah Hawke, a most just resolution, to be sure. Perhaps you are better suited for leadership than I thought," Brann said before he too left the office.
Aria turned to Fenris, dumbfounded. "Honestly. All that over some bloody soil."
"The roses meant a lot to that man," Fenris stated, sitting back down in the corner chair and tilting his head to look down out of the Keep's window.
"More than the soil clinging to their roots meant to the other," Aria snorted. "He was just being petty. I ought to look up the statutes to see what constitutes elder abuse here. That was completely uncalled for."
Fenris chuckled almost inaudibly at this. "Careful—or this temporary station might just go to your head."
"Oh believe me, I don't want it. I will be entirely relieved when Aveline's orange head pops back in that door."
Seneschal Brann came running back into the office then, along with a templar and Guardswoman Jenna.
"Hawke, come quickly. There is a row occurring in the Courtyard, and it appears that First Enchanter Orsino and Knight-Commander Meredith are pulling quite the crowd."
"What in the name of the Maker?" Aria cursed, grabbing her dagger belt and donning it quickly. Fenris followed suit and they paced after Seneschal Brann and his entourage until they hit the crowd just outside the the Courtyard leading up to the Keep. Aria pushed her way through and broke into the center, where Meredith and Orsino were arguing heatedly.
Emboldened by Hawke's presence, Orsino turned to the mob beginning to form. "I know you fear us!" he called, opening his arms wide in a placating gesture. "Knight-Commander Meredith uses that fear to take control of your city! She opposes every effort to replace Viscount Dumar, and you have seen the chaos of her reign! Will you allow it?"
Several of the nobles and commoners present shifted their gazes to Meredith and shook their heads. There was hatred in more than a few pairs of those eyes and Aria saw a city on the edge of civil war. Meredith felt the heat of the unrest and looked upon them as if they were bugs to be crushed.
"Return to your homes!" Meredith barked, panic taking to her eyes, and her voice was just a hint desperate. "This farce is over!"
"Wait!" Orsino cried out as some of the less brazen turned to obey Meredith's command. "Perhaps there are some who might disagree with you, Knight-Commander!" He gestured toward Hawke.
"Do not hide behind the Champion," Meredith spat. "She has no role in this."
Ire piqued, Aria took a step forward to further distance herself from the crowd. "I don't need anyone speaking for me, Knight-Commander."
"Is that so?" Meredith icily retorted, taking a few steps toward Orsino, accompanied by a couple heavily armed templars.
"Aria," Fenris hissed. "This will help nothing!"
Aria shrugged off his warning, her blood boiling, and sidled up to Orsino.
"I think the Champion's views would be appreciated," Orsino called to the crowd. "Or do you fear what she has to say?"
"I fear nothing!" Meredith sneered. "My only interest is in keeping order and protecting the innocent."
Aria's gaze caught Fenris's and his eyes pleaded with her. Aria sighed. "Rogue mages are constantly threatening the city," Aria conceded.
"Exactly," Meredith stated, matter-of-factly. "Would you have us do nothing in response?"
"I would have you not paint us all with the same brush," Orsino replied. "Not all mages are waiting for the opportunity to wreak havoc!"
"You know as well as I that temptation preys on every mage, no matter how noble their intentions," Meredith countered.
"You hear this, yes?" Orsino said, turning to Hawke. "She already has your sister. Think of what she could do if your sister suddenly 'gave into temptation'!"
"The Champion saved this city!" Meredith passionately defended. "Unlike some who threaten it with their misguided outrage!"
"You push us into desperate acts, then use that as justification to press even further!"
"Meredith, the templars are only making the problems worse," Aria calmly agreed, attempting to reason with the Knight-Commander. "You've got them installed all over Kirkwall, stepping on the rightful City Guards' toes at every turn."
"I will not sacrifice the well-being of innocents for the sake of a few mages!" Meredith spat. "I will not!"
"Your measures have become more extreme in the wake of the Arishok's attack on the city," Aria said, maintaining a cool head. It was not an accusation, it was a statement of fact.
"And you would do better?" Meredith venomously retorted. "How well did you defend your mother? Did she not die at a blood mage's hands?"
Aria's veneer of calm was shattered at this and Aria felt rather than heard the sharp intake of breath of several people present. Fenris swore in his Tevinter tongue and stalked up to Aria's side, the picture of fury. Aria took two steps toward Meredith, murder in her ocher eyes.
"You leave my mother out of this!" Aria raged, her hand flying to the hilt of one of her daggers.
Meredith's visage waxed apologetic and her voice took on the tone of one chastising a small child for a minor indiscretion. "Cold corpses speak louder than abstract freedoms, do they not? As long as that's true, Kirkwall needs its templars more than it needs a new ruler."
Aria believed that the Knight-Commander was acting honestly and her hand fell away from the weapon. The Knight-Commander saw the threat of mages as an enormous tide waiting to engulf them all. She saw the fate of the city as bleak, and she was willing to do whatever it took to defend it. Except, she wasn't seeing the role she was playing in making that future a reality.
"And when will it end?" Orsino interjected, his face earnest and pleading. "When will you stop seeing evil in every corner?"
"When it's no longer there," the Knight-Commander replied.
"The First Enchanter accused you of trying to take control of the city," Aria said, forcing the Knight-Commander to publicly out her intentions.
"The city! I am trying to keep order until there is a leader capable of succeeding where Dumar failed!" Meredith hedged the question expertly.
"And if not? Will the templars rule Kirkwall forever?" Orsino challenged.
"We will not stand idle while the city burns around us," Meredith countered.
"The Templar Order exists to guard the Chantry and the Circle," Orsino said, motioning to the crowd around them. "I suggest you let the nobility rule the city."
"I do not need you, or anyone," her vivid blue eyes cut to Hawke momentarily, "to tell me what my duty is, mage."
Aria stepped in between them and they backed away from her instinctively. Aria turned to the Knight-Commander, rage still boiling her blood at the low blow Meredith had taken about her mother. "The First Enchanter is right. The Chantry has no role in ruling, only in serving. You should not be ruling Kirkwall," Aria said, and cheers erupted from the crowd around them.
Meredith looked at the crowd, her own ire rising. "And yet I shall continue, until such time as the city is safe!"
"Do you see?" Orsino pleaded. "She is incapable of reason!"
Aria was not one to be manipulated, however. "What are you trying to do here, cause a rebellion?"
"The people of this city need to know what is really happening," Orsino said.
"And then what?" Meredith snidely interjected. "They tear down the Gallows with pitch forks and torches? That would be better?"
"It cannot be worse," Orsino replied, sadly. "Your refusal to listen to reason leaves me no choice."
Meredith angrily shook her head. "What I refuse to listen to are excuses! Perhaps you are ill-fit to your position if you cannot understand this."
"Threatening each other isn't going to help matters," Aria said blandly.
"And what should I do instead?" Meredith haughtily countered. "Allow this to continue?"
"You're both at fault here," Aria bitterly replied. "I'm not supporting either of you."
"You are naïve, Champion," Meredith sneered.
"You will find that not everyone bows to your will, Knight-Commander," Orsino tersely stated.
A hush came over the crowd then and a slight woman with tightly bound gray hair and the robes of the high-ranking Chantry official adorning her form gracefully made her way through the crowd. Grand Cleric Elthina reminded Hawke so much of Keeper Marethari in the way she comported herself and the reaction she drew from those around her. They recognized her power instinctively and treated her with revered deference.
"My, my," Elthina said as she entered the circle around the feuding parties. "Such a terrible commotion."
"This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace," Meredith hastily stated, pointing at Orsino. "I am dealing with the matter."
"Ah, Orsino. So frustrated. Do you think this is truly wise?" Elthina gently queried.
"I... No, Your Grace," Orsino conceded, lowering his head.
"Of course not. Young men," Elthina gently addressed the templars and the templars bowed to her. "Would you please show the First Enchanter back to the Circle? Gently, if you please."
"Your Grace!" Meredith cried in outrage. "He should be clapped in irons, made an example-"
"That's enough, Meredith," Elthina cut her off, an uncharacteristic note of temper in the Grand Cleric's voice. Several in the crowd noticeably winced at the cutting tone, Aria included. "This demeans us all, surely you can see that?" Her voice softened slightly as she continued, Meredith's silence stunned and angry. "Go back to the Gallows and calm down, like a good girl."
Meredith bowed and refused to make eye contact with the Grand Cleric or Hawke before she made her retreat with the remaining templars. Grand Cleric Elthina turned to Hawke and smiled graciously.
"You have my thanks for stepping in, Champion. If you had not..."
"Short of putting them both in cells, I doubt anything will keep them from each other," Aria tiredly replied.
Elthina sighed heavily. "Sadly true." She turned to the crowd. "Gentle people of Kirkwall, return to your homes, I implore you. This will not be solved today." The crowd dispersed and the Grand Cleric regarded Hawke with a sad expression. "And now I must return to the Gallows. They will see reason, if the Maker wills it. Thank you again, Champion."
Aria watched Elthina go. The crowd dispersed slowly and the guards that had been waiting for orders at the edge of the mob nodded at Aria as though commending her. They returned to their posts and Aria and Fenris made their way back up to the Keep. Aria wearily plopped down in the Guard-Captain's chair and glared out the window.
"That wasn't right of her to bring your mother into it, but she did have a certain point," Fenris said, sitting on the desk beside her.
"My mother was killed because I failed to stop a known criminal. He wasn't just a blood mage. He was a mad man. If I hadn't erroneously thought the killer was Gascard duPuis, my mother might very well be alive right now. And duPuis was also a blood mage—trying to stop him," Aria replied.
Fenris clenched and unclenched his jaw at this, at war with himself. He'd seen what happened when mages were allowed to run about unchecked. He'd been tortured, abused, tormented, and hunted by them. He'd seen them torture, abuse, maim, and kill other slaves. He'd seen them use their Maker-given talent for self-promotion at the careless, reckless, gleeful expense of the less fortunate.
But now he was seeing what happened when templars were the ones with all the power. His wife had seen all that was good about mages. Her family had been full of them; self-sacrificing, genuinely good mages who did not give in to the temptation of demons and who used their powers not for their own gain, but for the good of all. And here, they were imprisoned. Treated as slaves themselves, damned to the fate of the Gallows. Bethany, aptly called Sunshine by Varric, was a shining example of all that was good in magic. And she still held hope that one day, balance would come. Even Anders, for all his irritating schemes and his connection to Aria, was a good man. Fenris was not so blind that he couldn't see that. Anders gave of himself freely and wholly to his community, helping others, healing the sick, fighting injustice. But, he was also zealot on the opposing end.
Then Fenris's thoughts shifted to his son. Tristan. The perfect little bundle of joy that was the love he and his mother had made into living, breathing flesh. What if he held the power of magic? What if the Circle, what if Meredith, came for him?
"Venhedis," Fenris spat, slamming his fist on the desk and pacing over to the window.
Aria was startled from her own brooding by his sudden outburst. "What's wrong?"
"I know the horrors magic can cause. I know the evil that it can release upon the world," Fenris snarled, his back to her. "I have been used by those who would break me and they used magic to do it."
Aria sighed. He was mad at her for siding with Orsino. But then, she really hadn't. She had pointed out the flaws in both of their arguments, though Orsino was far more justified in her opinion. Wolves were dangerous too, but they weren't being rounded up and held in pens for their pelts. Maker knew, Aria herself could potentially be a hazard to the city, but here she was, walking around foot loose and fancy free. Well, not exactly, she amended. She was in charge of keeping the peace. And so far, she'd done fairly well at it.
"Fenris..." she said, not sure what else to say.
"And then there's your sister. I have rarely seen such purity and goodness in anyone, let alone a mage. And you. You were raised in an atmosphere where it was only used for good. Where everyone had the fortitude to resist the offers of demons and were happy to use their magic for the benefit of others. Void be damned, even Anders—he uses his powers for good, though I doubt he'll resist the temptation for much longer. I still respect him for his tenacity and his hope. And then... Then there's... Tristan. If Tristan were a mage..."
"What if Tristan is?" Aria challenged, causing Fenris to face her.
He realized, suddenly, that Aria thought he'd give up their son. That he'd let someone take him away from them forever. "How could you think that I would ever let anyone, mage or templar, lay a hand on our son?"
Aria strode over to him and he held her. "I'll kill them. I'll kill them all. Every last templar. Every last mage. Every last demon, shade, human, darkspawn, dragon... No one will ever take our son."
Fenris held her more tightly and kissed the top of her head. "I don't think anyone is stupid enough to try."
As the sun finished setting, the next shift of guards came in. Aria and Fenris made to leave, and Aria could hear the guards whispering as she walked past them on her way out of the barracks. She caught snippets of the conversation.
"The Champion means to rule."
"Hawke shut down Meredith hard."
"Hawke's one of us. She doesn't like the templars taking over and she doesn't want the mages too, either."
"She really is a Champion."
"Viscount Hawke."
Aria's brow furrowed in angst as she heard that last one leaving the Keep. Fenris chuckled as they bounded down the steps together.
"Viscount Hawke... Please don't. You'll never have any peace," Fenris snidely commented.
Aria laughed bitterly. "Oho no. They couldn't pay me to take that position. Fill in for Aveline, sure. Break up fights between Meredith and Orsino, okay as long as they only use their fists. But rule the city? Void no."
"Things are far more tense than I realized," Fenris said with an uncharacteristic shudder.
"I think they'll cool down for at least a little bit. Meredith still answers to the Grand Cleric, and the Grand Cleric at least still has her wits about her."
"But what if something were to happen to the Grand Cleric?" Fenris asked, his brow furrowing.
Aria laughed at this. "Who in their right mind would ever want to hurt the Grand Cleric? She's like... Like the Keeper. Revered. Adored. A symbol of all that is right and good in the world. She's practically untouchable—it'd be like...like slapping the Maker in the face and then mooning him."
"Stranger things have happened," Fenris said darkly.
"Oh stop. Elthina isn't going anywhere any time soon. You worry too much."
As they entered the street leading up to the Amell-Hawke estate, a couple of nobles and Seneschal Brann approached them.
"Serah Hawke," the Seneschal greeted her warmly. "That was masterfully done today. You certainly know how to keep the templars and mages in check."
"Orsino and Meredith are not to be trifled with," Aria admonished. "They're both wrong, and they're both right."
"A wise sentiment, to be sure," one of the nobles amiably stated. "Wisdom that would serve the city well, if placed in a high enough capacity."
"No," Aria flatly said, allowing Fenris to pull her toward their home.
"But just think about it, won't you?" Seneschal Brann called after them.
Fenris slammed the door once they were through it, and he threw down the anti-siege bar for good measure. Aria turned and glared at the door for a moment before stalking into the study where Isabela was rocking Tristan to sleep. He was idly sucking on his bottle, which was three-quarters of the way gone, and appeared to be almost out. His eyes widened and he spit out the bottle when he saw his parents. Isabela reluctantly handed the baby over to Aria and picked the bottle up off the floor, as Tristan had completely discarded it.
"What was all that commotion about? I heard the head mage and the templar boss lady were having it out in the square," Isabela greeted them, languidly stretching and yawning.
"They tried," Fenris growled, walking over to the liquor cabinet and grabbing a bottle of fine bourbon that had been gifted to them by Donnic and Aveline. He poured two rock glasses of it and then looked to Isabela. She nodded and he poured a third. He handed Isabela's to her, downed his, and reached for Tristan before handing Aria hers.
Aria sat next to the hearth and Isabela joined her. They sipped the bourbon while Fenris paced in front of the hearth, bouncing Tristan in his arms.
"You're right lucky, you know that?" Isabela jealously stated as they watched Fenris and Tristan.
"Mmm," Aria replied, sipping the warm amber liquid and savoring the smooth burn down her throat. "I know."
"I'm going to take him upstairs to bed, then I'll be back down to join you ladies when he's asleep," Fenris chuckled, eavesdropping their conversation.
"We'll be waiting," Isabela saucily replied, not bothering to hide the fact that she was totally enjoying the retreating form of Fenris's derriere as he departed with the babe.
Aria playfully slapped her on the shoulder. "Back off, wench. He's mine."
"I can appreciate the fine physique of a man without thinking of stealing him from my best friend," Isabela defended, feigning a wound to her heart.
"See to it that you do just that," Aria half-laughed, half-snarled. She rose and filled their glasses again, also filling one for Fenris. She kept his on the end table that sat between her and Isabela.
"You know, if we were all smart, we'd leave this city. And soon," Isabela sadly stated. She shivered and goose-flesh popped out on her arms. She took another sip of the bourbon.
"Why do you say that?" Aria solemnly asked, her interest piqued.
"It's just a feeling I have. Call it a sixth sense. I sometimes get it when I'm out to sea and it's never once steered me wrong when I listened to it. When I didn't listen to it... Well, I ended up losing a ship and crew, and being stuck in this Maker-forsaken hole. Not that it's so bad now, mind you," Isabela explained, indicating the room they were in. "You're practically royalty in this town at this point and it's good to be friends with the Queen."
Aria giggled at this. "Queen, but without all the responsibility."
"You poor soul. You have the responsibility. And you take it seriously. You just won't let them give you the title and the salary to go with it. Which either makes you stupid, or crazy. I know for a fact you're not stupid, so it's gotta be that you're just bat-shit, off-your-rocker, crazy," Isabela surmised.
There was a lot of truth to what she said. Even had Aveline been in town, it would have been Aria breaking up the fight between Orsino and Meredith, anyway. Even if there wasn't a Viscount, many people looked to Aria as the default ruler. And it pissed Meredith off to no end that she wasn't the first choice. But Meredith didn't blame Hawke for it—Aria believed Meredith respected her. And Aria respected Meredith. Aria understood Meredith, but there was just something in her demeanor. Something frantic, something... Just the tiniest bit off, but she couldn't put her finger on it. While Hawke generally held Meredith in high esteem, it was the high esteem of a worthy adversary. Hawke dreaded that one day, she would face up to Meredith much the way she had faced the Arishok. She hoped she would be the victor in that event, too.
"Oh come now, it wasn't meant as an insult," Isabela said, drawing Aria out of her thoughts.
"I know, Isabela. I just... I was thinking. You might be right. Leaving Kirkwall would be smart. But my sister's here. And Maker knows what Meredith would do to Bethany if she wasn't worried about what I'd do to her in retaliation."
"There is that. Spoilsport," Isabela glibly replied, the slightest hint of resignation to her voice.
"But enough talk of this," Aria perkily said, sitting up straighter in her chair. Fenris strode in just then and he took the bourbon she offered. "Anyone up for a quick round of Wicked Grace?"
"Always," Isabela and Fenris stated in unison.