A/N: Apologies again for the late chapter, everyone! My old laptop died a horrible hard drive death and I couldn't do any writing until I got a new one. On the plus side, this again turned into a way longer chapter than I expected it to be, so it's kind of like two again! Next one will be in Mardin's POV, and may switch to Hawke's partway through if it doesn't run away on me again :). Hope you all like it!
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Chapter Five: What Manner of Demon Are You?
Mardin watched Brianna and the others while they ate, only half paying attention to the conversations going on around him. He couldn't help but think as he took in the dark circles under her eyes, that she did look exhausted. He knew she was pushing herself too hard, trying to get everything in line for this expedition of hers, so that she could give her family a better life.
He couldn't fault her for that; it was a worthy goal, certainly, even if it and the expedition itself left him a bit confused about just what his destiny here was supposed to be. He was certain he was on the right path; meeting Flemeth, who seemed to be this world's version of a Messenger, with her insight into people's minds and futures, had only confirmed that. In her own cryptic way, she'd certainly alluded to Brianna having a big destiny, and she had not said anything about him being on the wrong path. Which could only mean he was right, and Brianna and the others were part of what he was supposed to do here. He just couldn't see right now what the ultimate goal was supposed to be, what he was supposed to prevent or stop or help with. But perhaps this expedition for fame and fortune would merely be the catalyst for something larger.
Certainly, it seemed like most of their jobs so far, no matter how small and uncomplicated they appeared at first glance, turned into something much bigger. A trip to deliver a necklace had turned into a meeting with a Messenger, while a trip to check on miners had turned into a battle with dragons. Everything around Brianna was more complicated than it appeared at first glance, he'd learned, and so he could only assume the expedition would be the same way. He would, he decided, simply have to stick closely to her side and eventually he'd see what was the right path to take, what Cranin and the Goddess wanted him to do here.
He could start by making sure Brianna didn't run herself into the ground leading everyone, as it seemed he was the only one to notice so far that she was pushing herself from dawn until well after dusk to get everything accomplished. Or, at least, he appeared to have been the only one to say it to her face, judging by the way she'd looked at him. She needed a good second to back her up and look after her, like he'd always had. He could still remember when he'd first taken over the Order, and had been working himself to the bone trying to fill in for his father. Ayla had found him asleep at his desk in the middle of the day once, he'd been so exhausted, and she'd been furious, dragging him home to sleep in spite of his protests. From then, she'd watched him like a hawk, making sure that he slept and ate properly while running the Order, and she'd taken over as many aspects as she could to make his burden lighter. Lorcan must have known the full extent of how Ayla had taken care of him, for he'd done the same after she'd disappeared, especially in those first few days when Mardin had tried to search every hour of the day for her. It had been Lorcan who had told him in no uncertain terms that he was being an idiot and needed to sleep if he wanted to stay alive long enough to find her. He only hoped that Lorcan found himself an equally good lieutenant, now that he was the captain. And, Mardin decided, he would be the one to back Brianna up and make sure she didn't get herself killed working too hard or being too reckless. After all, who knew better than him all the signs to watch out for?
"Well," Brianna declared at that moment, setting down her mug and pushing aside the empty bowl that had contained the mysteriously lumpy stew they'd all eaten for supper, "it should be late enough now for us to check out the Foundry. Let's go."
Everyone nodded in agreement, setting aside their own mugs and bowls before getting up and following Brianna. She paid for their meals and drinks on the way out the door, and Mardin followed her and the others out into the darkness of the night. It was a slightly cool, overcast night, the sky half-covered in clouds, with stars shining bright in the spaces between, and the half-full moon occasionally slipping past a cloud to spill through the shadowed corners of Lowtown. Mardin breathed deep of the slightly fresher air; the Hanged Man was an enjoyable enough place for a drink, but he couldn't stand its smell of unwashed bodies, vomit, and stale drink for very long. The breeze brought him a whiff of Brianna's scent, where she walked in front of him, and he smiled; somehow, even after a full day of fighting, she still managed to smell deliciously tempting. One day soon, he hoped he'd get a chance to enjoy her scent more closely, once she got over whatever was holding her back.
They rounded a corner just then, and Brianna held up a hand to halt them. Mardin saw almost instantly why; several feet ahead, a woman in black and red robes was being confronted by an armed man whose outfit and demeanor practically screamed 'bandit' – at least to Mardin it did. "Here, miss," the man said, "Word is, you're looking for help and paying well."
The woman turned her attention to him, nodding haughtily and saying in a well-cultured tone, "I need someone native to the dark places beneath Lowtown. If you claim as much, yes, I will pay."
The man's grin spread wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. "I am, I am. Let's just step into this alley and me and my fellows can have a look at the money on offer."
Mardin could only stare in astonishment as the woman willingly followed the man into the dark and shadowed alley behind her. Was she insane? He didn't even need his shifter's instincts to tell him that the man intended to harm her.
"She has chosen poorly," Fenris said darkly, echoing Mardin's thoughts.
"You would think she would have been smart enough to see that for herself," Mardin replied, shaking his head incredulously.
"Can you save someone so intent on being foolish?" Brianna asked, her tone equally astonished, but after a brief moment, she sighed. "I guess we'd better help her."
She headed forward, into the dark, shadowed alley, and Mardin and the others followed quickly after her. The bearded man, who was just about to descend on the woman along with a half-dozen thugs coming out of the shadows behind him, spotted them almost immediately. "I don't like interruptions, not when this mark is so promising! Get them!" he yelled to his companions, waving them forward.
The fight was short and easy; the seven thugs were simply no match for the five of them, and they came out of the fight with barely a scratch on them. Mardin grinned down at the body below him as he pulled his sword out, cleaning it. It seemed Kirkwall had no shortage of bandits who wanted to leap headfirst into a bloody death, and he was perfectly happy to oblige them.
As he sheathed his sword, the woman in the robes approached them, Brianna stepping forward a few paces to meet her. Mardin's brow furrowed as he studied the blonde woman; she had a stern, hard-faced demeanor, and he got an uncomfortable twinge in his gut just looking at her. Perhaps she wasn't as idiotically innocent as she'd first appeared. She nodded briefly to Brianna. "Well, thank you for your timely intervention. I am . . . out of my element."
Brianna frowned. "Surely you didn't realize that just now."
"I had to come here to get the type of person I need," the woman answered smoothly. "Someone of bloody skill, but also integrity. Perhaps the kind who might leap to someone's defense." She tilted her head, looking at Brianna shrewdly, and it was Mardin's turn to frown, as he had the sudden feeling they'd been played. "I have a charge who needs passage from the city," the woman continued. "If you are willing and capable, meet me at my safehouse nearby." She took a folded piece of parchment out of a pocket of her robes, handing it to Brianna.
Brianna took the piece of paper from her, reluctantly, and looked at it briefly before looking back up at the woman. "I just saved you in an alley, and suddenly we're in business?"
"You're in Lowtown," the woman responded derisively. "What grand scheme could I be interrupting? Varnell?" she called at the end.
There was the sudden clanking of armor as a man with short brown hair came around the corner, clad in silver plate with an odd purple skirting, bearing a sword and shield. Mardin scowled; the smell in this alley had been so stagnant, so overwhelmed with the smells of the bandits and the garbage piled in the corners that he hadn't noticed this man's scent before now. He didn't like knowing he'd missed something, even if it was just one man, for this man was clearly more skilled than the bandits had been.
"A bloody templar," Carver growled under his breath from Mardin's left. "Just what we need."
Mardin glanced quickly over at him, surprised. Was this man a Templar, then? He'd gleaned enough from Varric's stories and Brianna's explanation of what she needed the expedition for to learn that Templars were responsible for keeping mages in line in this world, and capturing so-called rogue mages who were outside of the Circles meant to keep them imprisoned. Capturing mages like Brianna, something he could obviously not allow if he was to fulfill his destiny, which he knew was entangled with hers. His hand went to his sword hilt, wondering if this would turn into a fight, too, for Brianna had used magic against the bandits just now.
The Templar, however, made no move towards Brianna, merely came to stand next to the woman in the robes, who turned to Brianna again. "I hope you will come. This matter only grows more urgent with time." Without waiting for an answer, the woman walked out of the alley, the Templar following behind her.
Brianna turned to watch them go, a thoughtful look on her face as she tucked the piece of parchment into her pouch.
"Don't tell me we're going to help a Chantry sister and a Templar," Carver said, going up to her. "Do you know how dangerous that would be?"
"They didn't seem to care that I was a mage," Brianna answered, "only that we have skill. And if she's offering a lot of money . . . well, we need it."
"I think Carver's right," Mardin offered, noting that Carver shot him a surprised and pleased look at his agreement. "I don't think we can trust her."
Brianna turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "What makes you say that?"
Damn. He kept getting the feeling that she could see right through him, and now was no exception as he replied carefully, "It just . . . seemed like that was a set-up, that's all."
"Red's probably right," Varric agreed, "but if she's offering a lot of money, I don't think it would hurt to find out what she wants."
Brianna nodded. "Well, let's go to the Foundry first. Then we'll see what she has to say."
Mardin sighed, shrugging. If she wanted to go look, it wasn't his place to stop her; he'd just have to do what he could to keep them all safe. He followed Brianna and the others as they continued on in search of the Foundry.
As it turned out, the alley they were in eventually led to a small courtyard where there was a side door to the Foundry, a small but thick rusty metal door up a flight of stone steps. No sooner had they entered through the door, which led to an open area with loud machines all around the edges, than they caught a glimpse of a man in robes on a balcony that wound its way around the room.
"Wait!" Brianna shouted, but the man fled almost as soon as they'd spotted him, and when they moved to chase after them, strange creatures erupted from the ground around them.
In the center, Mardin noticed as he drew his sword, was a creature who looked like a naked woman, if said woman was purple-skinned with horns. The other creatures were nothing more than barely formed black shadows. Were these creatures demons? he wondered.
"Blood magic," Fenris snarled as he swung his sword at the purple creature, who laughed merrily as it dodged.
"Why does everything we do have to involve magic?" Carver added, trying to swing at one of the shadows, his sword passing right through.
Remembering how Brianna had said that mages could call forth demons or become possessed by them, Mardin decided that these creatures must indeed be demons, then, as he leapt in to help wherever he could. His sword was useless against the shadows, until Brianna began to freeze them, allowing him and Carver to bust them apart while Fenris and Varric kept the purple creature busy. In the end, when Brianna froze the creature with a paralysis spell, Fenris was able to cut the thing in two, causing it to shriek and disappear in a cloud of smoke, just as Mardin and Carver shattered the last of the frozen shadows.
"That mage might be the man who's responsible for all the disappearances," Brianna cried as she scrambled for the stairs leading up to the balcony the robed man had been on. "He might still be here somewhere!"
They all began to split up and look around, as there were several rooms up the stairs from where they'd entered. The Foundry itself was full of the noise of rumbling machinery, the heat and roaring of fires keeping the machines going, and the overwhelming smells of smoke, rust, dirt, and metal everywhere. Mardin was trying to track the man by smell, but could only catch the faintest whiff of flowers – lilies maybe? and an unpleasant herbal smell mixed with something he could only describe as putrid, here and there. It was too difficult to nail the smell down amidst all the other scents of machinery and smoke and dust in the Foundry, and he growled with impatience.
Finally, at the entrance to one of the rooms, he smelled something else; blood, and the unmistakable scent of death. It was strong, and it didn't take him long to find the source; a cloth sack, soaking through with blood, laid in a corner. He could just barely make out the smell of the lilies and unpleasant herbs on the sack amidst the scent of blood, and decided it had to belong to the man he'd failed to track. It would seem they were not going to find any of those women alive, he thought, as he called out, "Brianna, I found something!"
She hurried over to him a moment later, followed by the others, and he pointed out the sack. She flinched briefly at the sight, but gamely picked it up and pulled the drawstring open, spilling out the contents. A severed hand spilled out, along with a few other severed limbs leaking blood, and several bones besides.
"That's a lot of bones," Carver said quietly as they all stared at the pile, unsure of what to say.
A ring was glinting on one of the fingers of the severed hand, and Brianna carefully pulled it off, studying it. "Emeric will want to know about this," she said at last, "and I should bring the ring to Ghyslain. It might belong to Ninette. Nobody found that mage anywhere?"
Everyone shook their heads. "I have searched every room," Fenris told her. "There is no sign of him; he must have fled while we fought the demon and the shades."
Mardin piled the contents back into the sack, tying it as he straightened up. "I tried to track him, but the sm – " he cut himself off abruptly as he realized what he'd been about to say. You're not among shifters anymore, remember? Normal people can't track by scent! "Uh, that is, there's too much dust and dirt on the ground. Makes it too hard to pick out footprints." He kicked at the ground, a cloud of dust rising from the inches of hard-packed dirt on top of wood emphasizing his point.
He thought he'd covered himself fairly nicely, but when he met Brianna's eyes, he could see curiosity lurking there, and wondered again if she saw right through every excuse and lie he came up with to hide his true self. Should he just tell her? Could he trust her with the truth of who and what he was? Maybe he should talk to Anders, he thought, and find out just how much the former Warden knew about his sister. If he knew and believed everything about her, and hadn't told anyone, that would be a good sign that Mardin might be able to trust others of this world, too. Perhaps tomorrow night, if they had time, he'd take the mage for the promised drink and find out, he decided.
Brianna stared at him for a moment, as if deciding whether to call him out on his slip, but she finally nodded. "Right. Well, if he's nowhere to be found, there's nothing else we can do right now, unfortunately. This is at least proof that these women didn't just run away; someone is luring them to their deaths. We'll have to see if we can find out just who that mage is before he kills more women."
Mardin wanted to tell her that if he got close enough to pick up the man's scent again, he'd know who it was, but he couldn't; that would mean explaining just how he could smell the man so well in the first place, so he simply nodded his agreement along with everyone else as she continued, "We might as well leave now, and go see what that Chantry sister wanted. She seemed like she was in a hurry," Brianna added when Mardin raised his eyebrows at her. She'd promised to get some rest after the Foundry, but he could see that he was going to have to work harder at convincing her that not everything had to be done at once.
She cast him an innocent, pleading look as if to say that she promised this was the last thing tonight, and he sighed, eventually nodding. If this was a trap, like he suspected it might be, they'd simply have to get through it. She beamed at him before she led them all out of the foundry, Mardin eventually electing to leave the sack just outside of the door so that they could come back and get it later for the required proof.
Brianna led them through the streets of Lowtown to the safehouse the woman had mentioned, using the bit of parchment the woman had handed over earlier. It was nothing but a small hovel, built into the wall of the old city slums, not far from where Mardin had left her the other night when he'd walked her home. The first thing he noticed when they walked in was the Templar from earlier crouched in a battle stance, sword drawn and threat clear as they entered the small stone room. Mardin stepped in between the Templar and Brianna, reaching for his own sword, a snarl building up in him at the implied threat to her and the others.
"Nice to see you, too," Brianna said to the Templar dryly, even as she put a gentle hand on Mardin's shoulder. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head slightly at him. He frowned, but he dropped his hand away from his sword, even as the Chantry sister from before gestured to the Templar, who relaxed his stance and sheathed his sword as well. Even so, Mardin kept himself between the Templar and Brianna as she turned to the sister; he didn't trust anything that was going on in this room, not with the way the hairs at the back of his neck were lifting. He wondered, briefly, why this protective urge he felt for Brianna was so much stronger than normal; he was used to wanting to protect others, but not this much. He shook the thought off; it was simply that he was normally with other front-line fighters, and she was a mage not used to close combat. That was all it was; that was all it could be.
"I thank you for coming," the sister said to Brianna when she turned back to her. "This matter is delicate, and I need someone of . . . limited notoriety who will not link this to me. It is an escort, but I think you will agree, the nature of the party makes this . . . unique."
Brianna heaved a sigh. "Look, it's getting really late. Can you just get to the point and tell us who is going where?"
The sister nodded briefly. "My name is Sister Petrice. I have assumed a burden of charity. This is my charge."
She gestured to a large Qunari who came in from a small, cramped room off to the side. Mardin briefly turned his attention from the Templar named Varnell to study this new addition; he was different from any of the other Qunari that he'd seen so far, either the Tal-Vashoth or the ones with the Arishok. This one wore a high, heavy armoured collar fastened to him by numerous golden chains and straps, which were linked to the waist of the heavy leather skirt around the lower part of his body. The most disturbing part of all was that his mouth appeared to be sewn shut, below the golden mask that covered the rest of his face.
"A saarebas?" Fenris said in obvious disbelief. "Here?"
Mardin had only the briefest moment to wonder what a saarebas was before Sister Petrice went on, "Would even a Templar bind a mage like this? He is a survivor of infighting with their Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him 'Ketojan', a bridge between worlds. The viscount, and others, feel that peace begins with appeasement. This mage would likely be returned to his brutal kin. He can serve a better purpose. I want him free. He must be guided from the city without alerting his people, or being seen in my care."
This . . . this was a Qunari mage, then? Mardin wondered, feeling sick to his stomach. Rather than imprisoning them in circles, the Qunari sewed the mouths of their mages shut, and bound them in chains? Even with the threat of possession by demons that the mages in this world carried, that the mages in his world did not, he still couldn't see the justification for doing this kind of thing. Were abominations truly so frightening?
Brianna looked, briefly, as horrified as he felt, before she schooled her face into a more impassive look as she turned back to Sister Petrice. "You don't just stumble on something . . . someone like this."
The sister shrugged. "For all their blasphemous certainty, the Qunari do have deserters. Those who seek freedom are hunted mercilessly."
"Tal-Vashoth," Brianna said with a nod. "They seem to accept the role."
"Even their rebels conform. Ser Varnell observed one of their bloody exchanges," the sister explained, gesturing to the Templar. "This poor mage was the only survivor."
Brianna frowned, looking thoughtful as she studied the Qunari again, who had not moved since entering the room, nor shown any sign that he was aware of what was going on around him. "And you think this mage was one of the Tal-Vashoth, one of the hunted?" she asked.
"I am certain no thinking creature would willingly submit to this," Petrice replied firmly. "If he was not running before, he has seized the opportunity now."
"Will he help?" Brianna said at last. "If I trust him at all . . ." she glanced over at Mardin as she said this, startling him. What did she know? Had she somehow figured out his ability to sense danger? It was difficult for him to evaluate the Qunari's danger as an individual right now, with Petrice and Varnell still in the room; all he knew was that the whole thing reeked of danger overall. He gave her a brief shrug in response, and she turned her attention back to the sister.
"I don't know his capabilities, or if he can function at all in that collar," Petrice answered. "But I think he knows we are his only way out."
"You . . . think?" Brianna repeated incredulously. "You mean you don't know?"
"He has followed every direction, and made no aggressive moves even when taunted. Were I in his place, I could have fled," the sister replied simply. "Qunari or not, I can only assume he wants to be led to freedom."
"And if you're wrong, I have to deal with it," Brianna said, frowning at the other woman.
"That is why I went to Lowtown. You are either capable of the discretion and skill that I need or you are not," Petrice retorted, glowering at Brianna in turn. "And I will remind you, I am offering a fair price for this job – seven sovereigns."
Mardin sighed inwardly, watching Brianna's eyes widen just slightly. Seven sovereigns, he knew from their conversation earlier today, was quite a significant chunk of what she still needed to collect, and not an amount that she could turn down in her current situation, whatever the dangers of the job. Sure enough, she nodded at the sister, saying, "I can get him out of Kirkwall. He's a bit conspicuous for the streets, though."
"Better out there than here with the Templar," Carver muttered from behind them, making Mardin grin slightly. It was a sentiment he fully agreed with; whatever other Templars were like, he didn't trust this Varnell in the slightest.
"That is obviously not an option," Petrice said haughtily, obviously choosing to ignore what Carver had said. "You must avoid incident with the guards . . . I cannot be linked to this. This mage will be a fine example of how cruel Qunari are, even to their own. But only if this plays out just so." The sister walked over to the entrance to the other room, where the Qunari had come in from, and pointed to a trapdoor built into the floor in the corner. "The passage here leads to the warrens of the Undercity. It is dangerous, but that is why you were hired. Good luck."
Brianna sighed, but nodded, heading into the other room, gesturing for the others to follow her. Surprisingly enough, the Qunari did as well, though he had been perfectly motionless up to this point. Mardin went last, backing into the room after the others, never taking his eyes off Varnell. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd have to kill this man someday, though he didn't know if it would be today or not.
However, neither of them moved, and he eventually climbed down through the trapdoor, using the ladder built into the wall, and followed the others through the dimly lit passageway of wood and dirt, held up by ancient beams. It eventually led out into a larger area of tunnels, more like a series of rooms, but still made of dirt and wood, looking like they might crumble around them at any moment. This area was better lit, however, with numerous torches and lamps burning everywhere, letting them glimpse all the dirt, cobwebs, and garbage around them as they went.
"Tromping the deep dark with a horn-skull mage. And other colloquials to that effect," Varric declared as they went along, making Brianna smile, but for the most part, they all stayed quiet and alert, looking for any sign of a fight.
They eventually did run into a large group of those incredibly big spiders that seemed to be everywhere in this world, but were able to defeat them without too much trouble. Mardin noticed, however, that the Qunari mage merely stood off to the side as they fought, unmoving, and Fenris noticed too, commenting after the fight was done, "The mage seems indifferent to our struggles, even with his freedom as the prize."
"He seems indifferent to everything," Brianna muttered, studying the Qunari, who still didn't make a move or a sound of any kind. "I don't even know what to think."
"Let's just get him out of here and hope that this isn't a trap, shall we?" Mardin urged, waving them on, and Brianna nodded, taking up the lead again as they went through the passages. The Qunari, Ketojan, started moving as soon as they did, following along behind, still eerily without making a sound.
Mardin frowned as he took up the rear, watching Ketojan closely. He still couldn't decide how he felt about the Qunari on his own, because of the still-overwhelming feeling that the whole thing was a trap. He didn't know if this Qunari was in on the trap, or merely a victim of it, but he knew something was going to happen, and it was only a matter of time.
They came out into a large, open space of the tunnels a few moments later, a very large room compared to most of the narrow passageways they'd been going through, and before they were halfway across the room, a group of rough-looking men in ratty armor had suddenly arranged themselves across their path. Mardin grinned as he spotted them, even as he heard Brianna sigh. This was not the trap, he knew; this was just a bit of fun, and he definitely could use some fun right now.
"Look at this," declared one of the bandits, as their group stopped a few feet away. "Undercity's feared by all, but there's no shortage of fools with coin who want to test it." Ketojan came up next to Brianna, prompting the man to continue, "What is this thing, collared like a dog lord's bitch? You some sort of Qunari lover?" he added, turning back to Brianna. "Maybe I should get rid of you and see who'll pay the most for your pet."
Mardin had come up on Brianna's other side, waiting for the opportunity to draw his sword and kill someone, and was surprised to hear a snarling growl, one he distinctly recognized as being a warning, come from Ketojan. It was the first noise he'd heard the Qunari make, and the first indication that he was even aware of what was going on around him.
Another one of the men standing next to the apparent leader of the bandits said nervously, "Uh, I don't think it likes you threatening its master. Maybe we let this one pass."
The leader took a few steps closer, sneering, as Brianna said mockingly, "A voice of reason. What's he doing with you?"
"You lot think you're so damned right, buying everything, running Free Marchers like me into our own sewers," the leader snarled back as he pulled a small dagger out, taking another step or two closer to Brianna. Mardin scowled, reaching for his sword, as the bandit continued, "You want us bound, like this thing. I'll see you dead first."
Brianna was reaching for her staff as the leader raised his dagger and Mardin was moving to intervene, but before either of them could do anything, a powerful blast of magic burst forward from Ketojan, sending everyone but the Qunari flying, bandits and their own party included.
Mardin tossed his sword aside as he flew through the air, just in time to keep Brianna from being impaled on it as she sailed right into his arms. He landed hard on his back on the ground, skidding a few feet, and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from flying away from him into a wall. When his momentum finally stopped, he scooped her up, getting to his feet as quickly as he could while holding her before setting her down carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. He refrained from the urge to tell her how much he'd enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, however briefly it had been, knowing this wasn't the time, and that she wasn't ready to hear it yet, besides.
She nodded, her face flushed as she looked about for her staff, which had also been thrown aside in their flight. "I'm fine, thank you, what about you?"
"No harm done," he replied briefly, looking for where his sword had landed, "but I'd better find my sword before there is." He gestured to the bandits, who were scrambling to their feet, shouting.
"By the Void! Kill it! Kill them all!" one of the bandits screeched, just as Mardin spotted his sword several feet away. He raced over to it, even as Brianna found her staff, and sprang forward to meet one of the bandits, noticing that the others had got to their feet as well and were facing off against the panicked bandits. Ketojan stood off to the side, fireballs shooting from him at bandits every so often, while fire raged in a circle around him.
The bandits, as Mardin had thought, were both easy and fun to kill once he had his sword back in hand, and so long as he avoided the wild fireballs shooting from the Qunari mage. It took little time at all for their party to dispatch the bandits, but once they were done, though the wild shooting of fireballs stopped, there was still a ring of fire raging around Ketojan as he stood to the side, snarling.
Brianna went over to him, one hand on her staff, and, Mardin hoped, with an ice spell at the ready as she waved her other hand at the Qunari mage. "They get the idea, qunari . . . Ketojan . . . whatever. Calm yourself, please," she said, trying to keep her voice low and soothing, but urgent at the same time. Mardin jogged across the distance separating them to back her up, as did the others, but it turned out to be unnecessary.
Just as he reached her side, the Qunari gave a low rumbling growl in response, but the tinge of warning was gone from it, and the flames surrounding him abruptly disappeared.
Brianna slowly put her staff away, her head tilting with curiosity as she studied Ketojan. "Did you react because your lead was threatened?"
The answer, of course, was nothing but a growl, not even one that Mardin could interpret; all he knew was that it lacked any real threat.
"I know that kind of blind instinct," Fenris said quietly as he studied the bound mage as well. "It is hard to judge how much control he has."
Mardin glanced at the elf sharply; Varric had mentioned something about Fenris being a former slave, and Mardin wondered if Fenris had been possessed of that same blind desire to protect his master when threatened. It was a disturbing thought; Mardin had never witnessed slavery, and he wondered just what one person would have to do to another to turn a fierce and skilled warrior like Fenris into a blind attack dog. He decided he probably didn't want to know, if it was anything like what had been done to this Qunari in front of him.
Brianna sighed, shaking her head. "I'm getting you out of here before you 'help' again."
Ketojan merely growled again in response, causing Brianna to throw her hands up in exasperation. "Still clear as a bell. Great. Let's go before he sends us all flying again."
They all nodded in agreement, following Brianna as she led them the rest of the way out through the passageways. Fortunately there were only a few more passageways, gradually sloping upwards and turning from wooden walls and beamed ceilings into rocky cave walls, eventually bringing them out on the side of a hill through a cave mouth in an area of the Wounded Coast, though not the area where Mardin had first met the others.
It was still night out, of course, though the clouds had disappeared, causing the moon and stars to shine down brightly on the rocky beach, making it easy enough to see – especially when combined with the bonfire burning on the hill across from them, where a large group of Qunari stood.
"Oh, by Andraste's flaming sword," Brianna grumbled as she noticed the warriors descending down the hill to the flat stretch of beach where they had all emerged.
These Qunari were all covered in red body paint, wielding various weapons, and one of them wearing a barred mask, obviously the leader, stepped forward to address them as they gathered on the beach a few feet away. "You will hold, basra vashedan. I am Arvaarad, and I claim possession of Saarebas at your heel. The members of his karataam were killed by Tal-Vashoth, but their disposal leads only here, to Saarebas and you."
"I knew it," Mardin murmured to Brianna, as he came to next to her, his hand flexing with the desire to draw his sword. He'd been waiting for the trap to descend, and this was obviously it; Sister Petrice had somehow led a trail of dead Qunari bodies straight to them, for this group of warriors to find. For what reason, he didn't know, but he doubted it had anything to do with them personally; she'd just needed a group of victims for something.
Brianna sighed, nodding to him briefly before turning to the Qunari, hands up in a peaceful gesture. "I just got here, coming from the other way. If there was a trail, I didn't leave it."
"Yet you are here with Saarebas," Arvaarad answered shortly, his tone uncaring. "The crime is his freedom, his leash held by unknowing basra. We will not allow that danger to continue. Let your own mages doom you – Saarebas will be properly confined."
"And if he doesn't want to go back?" Brianna asked carefully, making Mardin smile. That reckless bravery and compassion of hers never ceased to impress him.
Arvaarad took a few long strides forward, towards Ketojan who stood on Brianna's other side, snapping out, "Saarebas! Show that your will remains bound to the Qun."
Ketojan immediately went down on one knee, bowing his head, and the Qunari leader nodded, satisfied. "He has only followed you because he wants to be led. He is allowed no other purpose."
Brianna didn't bother to respond to that, instead asking a question that was bothering Mardin also, "You don't care that someone abused your dead to get you here?"
"No doubt they were cast from your shoulders as you or your partner thieves grew weak. It is a crime whose victims are beyond caring," Arvaarad responded coldly. "It will be dealt with, but the greater threat is clear. It is my role to secure Saarebas. It is the role of another to purge the perversions of your kind."
Perversions? Mardin thought, raising his eyebrows. They sewed the mouths of their own shut, and they thought humans were perverted? Wasn't that just hypocritical?
As if thinking the same thing, Brianna demanded, "He is bound and abused, and you want him caged. Why?"
"The power that he has, that all Saarebas have, draws from chaos and demons. They can never be in control," the Qunari leader snapped in return.
"So you fear them," she said quietly, and Mardin realized this had to be hitting rather close to home for her, as a mage herself. She was glancing at Ketojan, as if wondering how she would do with such a fate.
"We leash Saarebas because they are dangerous and contagious," Arvaarad growled, as if mildly insulted that she would imply they were afraid of anything. "Not even your Templars fully grasp that threat."
Brianna was slowly shaking her head, and Mardin could already see what she'd decided before she even told the Qunari leader, "I'm not giving him to you. He'll choose his own path."
"He wants what the Qun demands. He is nothing else. You, basra," Arvaarad snarled, pointing his finger at Brianna "your kind have no sense." He pulled out a golden rod, continuing, "The opportunity for reason will be forced upon you." The end of the rod began to glow strongly with blue magic, and the Qunari leader pointed it at Ketojan, who fell to his hands and knees, his whole body glowing blue as he evidently became paralyzed in place. "You will all be brought to the Qun!" Arvaarad finished on a roar, as he tucked the rod into his belt and drew his sword along with the other warriors.
Mardin considered shifting again for the second time that day as he charged forward to meet Arvaarad's sword with his shield before he could reach Brianna, but he dismissed the idea again as soon as he thought it. He couldn't be sure of how his companions would react, whether they would be fine with it or whether they would view him as more of a monster than those abominations of theirs. No, he couldn't risk it, not yet, and given how long of a day it had been, he wasn't sure he could sustain the shift for long anyway. So he simply caught the Qunari sword on his shield, throwing every bit of his shifter strength behind the block, and sent the leader stumbling back a few steps. Arvaarad's eyes widened briefly in surprise, but he was charging forward again in the next second.
Carver and Fenris were on either side of him in seconds, meeting the other Qunari warriors head-on; Fenris, racing forward with his markings glowing eerily in the night, ripped out the heart of one Qunari before he'd even had a chance to raise his spear. Carver used the distraction afforded by this move to run another warrior through, while Brianna sent a blazing firestorm down on the Qunari clustered in behind their leader, and Varric's bolts merrily pierced through the complete lack of armor on the chest of the warriors. Mardin suspected that the small explosion that sent two more Qunari that were bearing down on his right side flying was due to Varric also, but he had little time to think about it as he matched Arvaarad blow for blow.
"You!" Arvaarad snarled as Brianna hit him with an arcane blast in the back, causing him to stumble just enough to give Mardin the opportunity to slice open a shallow wound along the Qunari's side. "You are Saarebas also!"
"Yeah, look at me being unleashed and contagious everywhere," Brianna taunted him. "And just so you know, I'm doing all this without a demon." She sent an arc of chain lightning through the Qunari moving towards Carver and Fenris, temporarily freezing them and allowing the two to cut their way through a few of them with minimal effort.
Arvaarad roared with rage, and tried to move around Mardin to get to Brianna, but he wasn't having any of it; he threw the Qunari back with a full-strength shield bash, swinging his sword in a lethal arc right after, causing the Qunari to have to dodge backwards or get skewered. "You're facing me," Mardin snarled at him, and deliberately let his shift slip through just enough to darken his eyes brown and his canine teeth to double in size before he let everything flash back to normal. It was a favourite trick of his to strike fear in his opponents, and he was pleased to note that it worked as well here; a brief shadow of fear passed through Arvaarad's eyes as he growled out, "What manner of demon are you?"
"The kind that doesn't like cowardly hypocrites who sew their companions' mouths shut," Mardin answered him coolly, pressing his advantage then with a flurry of blows, herding the Qunari leader back around so Brianna could get another clear shot at him. This time, she hit him in the back with a spear of ice, causing Arvaarad to stumble forward, and Mardin ran him through, slamming his sword home at full strength, batting the Qunari's sword aside with his shield as he tried to raise it again, then yanking his sword back out as Brianna hit the leader with another arcane blast, distracting him long enough for Mardin to open up his throat and finish the fight.
As Arvaarad's body hit the ground, Mardin darted past him to help Fenris and Carver with the remaining warriors; between the three of them, Varric's bolts and Brianna's impressively angry magic, the other Qunari warriors soon lay dead on the ground. By this point, Mardin, Fenris and Carver were all bleeding from several shallow wounds, but they'd fortunately picked up enough healing and lyrium potions from the Bone Pit earlier to restore them, along with the help of the healing spell that Brianna knew. Once she was satisfied with them, she hurried over to Ketojan, who still remained on his hands and knees. "Can you stand?"
Ketojan grunted in response, shakily gesturing at the golden rod still tucked in the dead Arvaarad's belt. Brianna pulled it out and tossed it to Mardin, who looked at her with a raised brow as he caught it. "Can you break it?" she asked impatiently.
Well, damn. She'd definitely noticed more than he'd expected her to. He sighed, deciding there was no point in denying it, and snapped the rod in half. A blast of magic nearly knocked him over after that, but he just barely managed to keep his feet as he tossed the broken pieces aside. She was definitely going to want an explanation eventually, he knew, as he could see the others staring at him in surprise.
Ketojan got to his feet before anyone could ask Mardin any awkward questions, facing Brianna as he began to speak slowly, uncertainly, clearly careful of the stitches still holding his mouth mostly shut. "I am . . . unbound. Odd . . . wrong . . . but you deserve honor. You are now Basvaarad, worthy of following." He gave Brianna a brief bow. "I thank your intent, even if it was . . . wrong. I know the will of Arvaarad. I must return as demanded. It is the wisdom . . . of the Qun." Without waiting for an answer from Brianna, he turned and began walking towards the shoreline, where Mardin could see faint traces of light beginning to break the darkness of the horizon beyond.
"So after all this, now you want to die?" Brianna demanded, hurrying after him. Mardin followed a bit more slowly, curious as to what Ketojan was up to, the others falling in behind him.
"I do not want to die," Ketojan replied carefully, shaking his head. "I want to live by the Qun."
"Which means dying," Brianna said flatly, halting only a few feet away from the Qunari mage.
"Yes. Is that hard to grasp?" Ketojan asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.
"Could you have returned if I'd let these others live?" Brianna asked, gesturing at the bloodied bodies behind them. As hard as she was trying to keep her face impassive, Mardin could see she was upset; she'd clearly hoped to give this Qunari mage a life of freedom, but it seemed that wasn't what he wanted.
"No," Ketojan said simply.
Brianna sighed. "You were doomed from the start?"
"I was outside my karataam. I may be corrupted. I cannot know," the Qunari mage explained, though his explanation made little sense to Mardin. Fortunately, he could see by the looks on the faces of the others that he wasn't alone this time. "How I return is my choice. It must be, but that does not mean there is no meaning."
"Others of your kind live outside the Qun," Brianna tried next. "You could join them."
Ketojan shook his head. "They are not my kind. I am Qunari. They are not."
"They have chosen to be free," Brianna told him, obviously frustrated.
"Free?" Ketojan repeated, sounding confused. "They have refused what they are. I . . . can't choose to 'not be'."
"Hawke," Fenris said quietly, and she turned to look back at him. "You gave him the right to choose. Let him use it."
Brianna stared at the elf for a moment before nodding. Mardin could see his point as well; if this was what Ketojan wanted, they had no right to deny him that, or they were no better than Arvaarad. She turned back to Ketojan. "Well, I suppose my job ended when we exited the city. The rest is up to you."
"You know of certainty and borders. You are closer to the Qunari than you admit. Your role would change little if you accepted the Qun," Ketojan told her. He took something that appeared to be an amulet out of a pouch, handing it to her. "Take this secret thing, Basvaarad. Remember this day." He turned from her then, walking a few steps away, and suddenly his entire body lit on fire. He made no noise, no cry of pain or bit of protest, as the fire consumed his body, simply fell to his knees and let the fire turn him to ashes.
Mardin could only stare, appalled, trying to ignore the horrible scent of burnt flesh and hair permeating the air. Wanting to die was one thing; choosing fire as a way to do it was another. There were much easier ways the Qunari could have killed himself.
"What is wrong with these things?" Carver said in disbelief as Brianna came back over to them.
"She may not have known exactly what was going to happen, but clearly Petrice set a trail right to us," Brianna snapped, her violet eyes burning with righteous anger.
"We did what she wanted," Carver replied, frowning. "Why give us away?"
"It's probably because she had some other purpose, a bigger plan, and this was only a piece of it," Mardin said quietly. "I don't know what her plan is, though."
"Probably something to do with politics," Varric sighed. "Whenever something bat-shit crazy happens where a lot of people die, it's usually because of politics. Or religion. Or both."
"I bet she wanted those Qunari to kill us, and Ketojan." Brianna pointed at the bodies behind them. "Then she could say to everyone else, 'Look what the Qunari do, even to people who try to help their own'. We weren't supposed to live through that fight."
"It would seem she underestimated us, then," Fenris said simply.
Brianna nodded. "She did. But she's not getting out of paying us." She stalked back towards the entrance, and Mardin and the others fell in behind.
Mardin breathed in a sigh of relief as they went; it seemed Brianna either had forgotten to ask about his strength because she was furious at Petrice, or she'd decided not to press him about it. Either way, he didn't have to answer any awkward questions right now. Just as he'd thought that, though, Varric dropped back next to him where he was bringing up the rear as they went back through the tunnels.
"So, Red," the dwarf began conversationally, "just how did you get so strong?"
Mardin chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide how best to answer him. Finally, he landed on an answer he thought Varric might enjoy. "Lots of training," he told the dwarf with a wink, "and I ate lots of turnips every day growing up."
He grinned when Varric laughed. "Liar," the dwarf said, but it was without heat. "No one eats turnips willingly." Varric shook a finger at him. "Sooner or later, I'll find out, Red."
Mardin merely smiled at him, relieved that he wasn't pushing it. They would find out eventually, he knew, for he'd have to tell them sometime. But he wasn't ready for it yet. And answering the question of how he was so strong would lead to a whole host of questions he couldn't answer right now. Fortunately, Varric was the only one who brought it up, and they made it back to the safehouse without incident.
Mardin insisted on going up first, just in case Varnell was waiting, and Brianna nodded, allowing it. "Do you want me to kill them?" he asked her quietly as he reached for the ladder, seeing the fury still burning in her eyes.
She blinked a little, obviously surprised, and seemed to consider it for a moment before she shook her head. "No. They might deserve it, but it's too risky to kill a Chantry sister and a Templar."
He nodded, respecting her wishes. This was her world, and he would follow her lead. Varnell, he was sure, would eventually die at his hand, but it wouldn't be today. He climbed up carefully and quietly through the trapdoor, crouching on the floor next to the opening, and offered Brianna a hand to lift her through the rest of the way when she came up the ladder after him. She stalked over to the entrance to the next room as soon as he let her go, and he hurried after her, not wanting her confronting the Templar alone.
He could see Petrice directing Varnell to pack up things as they approached the door, saying, "Leave nothing. It must be clean with no ties. It . . ." She halted when Brianna slammed her staff down on the floor, turning to them, eyes wide with surprise which she quickly covered up. "Well. My helpful associate from the streets. You . . . took the Qunari from the city? Without incident?"
Varric, who had come up the ladder next and was now standing on Brianna's other side, said coolly, "I think the 'incident' was rather your idea."
"Mind your tongue, dwarf," Varnell snapped.
Petrice held up a hand to quiet him, and the Templar stepped back as she nodded at Brianna. "Please. Do speak your mind."
Brianna stared at her coldly, her hand gripping her staff tightly. "Don't string me along. You know that I know."
"It was all a set-up," Mardin added. "You wanted those Qunari to find us."
Petrice shook her head. "Whether you believe it or not, I wished you no harm. That might have been useful for someone, but still regrettable." She walked back and forth, explaining, "A massacre of citizens protecting a slave might have forced the Chantry to doubt appeasement, to see the Qunari for the monsters they are. Perhaps finding the mage was a rushed opportunity. If such a plot existed, I see how it might be . . . disagreeable to you."
Mardin snorted. He didn't agree with what the Qunari did to mages, but he agreed even less with what Petrice had tried to do. "The Qunari are the monsters, when you wanted us slaughtered just to set your politics in motion?" he asked derisively.
Petrice glared at him, but she didn't answer, obviously choosing to ignore him.
Brianna gave a long sigh, eventually strapping her staff to her back. "I want no part of your little war. Pay me what I'm due."
Petrice scowled, digging money out of a pocket of her robes. "Take your coin. Disappear back into Lowtown. Rest assured I will not make the mistake of looking for help outside the faithful again. The stakes – eternity – are just too high." She slapped the coins into Brianna's hand before marching to the door of the safehouse, Varnell following her with one last glare their way.
"We'll be hearing from that one again," Fenris predicted, watching the door slam behind her.
Brianna sighed, tucking the coins into her pouch. "I really hope you're wrong, Fenris." She rubbed her hands over her face. "Well, I think that's more than enough for one day. We should all go get some rest now."
"That sounds like an excellent idea, Hawke," Varric proclaimed, stretching and yawning. "I think I might even skip my pre-bedtime drink, it's so late."
Mardin and the others nodded in agreement as they all exited the safehouse, for it was apparent by the continual lightening of the sky that dawn was fast approaching. They made their way over to the Hanged Man, which was across from the stairs leading up to Hightown, and Brianna nodded at them all. "Thank you for your help today, everyone," she said, "and here's everyone's share of the jobs for today." She passed out some coins to each of them, though Varric waved his off. "I think we'll take tomorrow – or today, I guess – off. I don't think I have any pressing matters to take care of right now. I'll let you all know when I need you again."
They all said their goodbyes, parting ways after that, and once Mardin was sure Carver was heading home with Brianna, he followed Fenris back to the mansion for some much needed sleep.
Mardin had taken the opportunity to sleep the majority of the day away, and only got up when the rumbling of his stomach became too much. This happened to be right around suppertime, and he decided it would be the perfect opportunity to go find Anders and buy him supper and a drink in exchange for conversation about his sister.
He'd always had a good head for directions, so it didn't take him long to find his way down to Darktown and back to the clinic he'd met the mage in the other day. Fortunately, Anders didn't have any patients when he arrived, and was more than willing to shut the clinic down for the night to go get some food.
Once they reached the Hanged Man, Mardin steered Anders over to a small, empty table in the corner and waved the barmaid over. Once she'd taken their orders and some of the money Mardin had earned yesterday to pay for everything, he turned to Anders and asked quietly, once he was sure no one was close enough to hear, "How much do you know about my sister?"
Anders, too, looked around them briefly before saying in a low voice, "You're asking if I know where she's really from and what she can really do, right? Or rather, what you both can really do?"
Mardin nodded, unsurprised. He'd expected by Anders' reaction to his eye change - the lack of surprise or fear - that he knew about shifting. "So you know, then, that we're shapeshifters, and we're not from –" he hesitated, trying to decide how to word it.
"This world," Anders finished, his voice nearly a whisper. "Thedas. Yes, I know."
"Thedas? Is that what you call it?" Mardin filed this information away; so far he'd only heard the names of a few cities and countries in this new world. He was relieved that Anders knew and obviously accepted the truth about who he was; it would make everything so much easier. If he had any questions that the others would think of as weird, he could merely ask the mage. "So, do all of the Wardens know?"
Anders shook his head. "Not all of them, no. Just those of us that have been with the Commander and your sister from the beginning, when they first started rebuilding the Wardens. Back then, there weren't very many of us, and there were so many dangerous things going on that it was nearly impossible to keep secrets. Eventually, Ayla had to shift in front of us, and then she and Commander Alistair had to explain just what that meant. Once we understood, they swore us all to secrecy. They thought, the fewer people that knew, the better." Anders glanced around furtively, adding darkly, "There's no telling what the Chantry and the Templars would think of you two, or what they would do when they found out."
"'What manner of demon are you?'" Mardin said wryly, quoting what the Qunari leader had said to him yesterday.
Anders nodded. "Exactly, yes. They'd likely think you two some new type of demon, or abomination, and have you locked up for study. It's far too risky to tell just anyone. So none of the newer recruits were told unless it became absolutely necessary, and we were sure we could trust them."
So obviously, Mardin thought, his sister's mate knew all about her, which made sense, of course. She couldn't have undergone the bonding ceremony without explaining to him where it came from. And it was likely that those people she'd fought the Blight with besides her mate, that Varric had briefly mentioned, knew as well, for Anders was right. When you were continually in life-threatening situations, it became far too difficult to keep your abilities a secret, as he was rapidly finding out. His sister had probably been forced to shift at some point during that Blight and reveal her true nature to everyone just to stay alive. At least he knew for sure now that shifting would work here, and some people, at least, could be trusted with his nature.
"And none of you . . . had a problem with her being a shifter?" he asked carefully.
"No, none of us," Anders answered, shaking his head. "Especially not me. I know what it's like to be judged for what you can do and what you are. But she saved our lives with it more than once, and we were all pretty close, besides that. We trusted each other. And Wardens have their own . . . abilities and issues. None of us felt like we could judge her for what she is."
"That's good to hear," Mardin said, smiling. It was unusual to hear of a shifter not being judged by those who weren't shifters, and he was happy to hear that his sister seemed to have found a place that she fit in, where no one was calling her a demon or a wild animal, taunts they had both often heard. "But . . . did you all know that . . ." he hesitated. "We can lose control. It doesn't happen often, but if it does, we would attack even our friends."
"We knew," Anders reassured him. "It never happened that I saw, but she told us all about it, in case it did. It's no different from mages, except it's reversible, as I understand it; abominations are not."
"Reversible?" Mardin frowned, looking at him. "You mean if someone can get close enough to knock them out, or wound them badly enough to shift them back?" He'd only heard of a couple of incidents where that happened; usually a shifter who'd lost control ended up being killed before they killed someone else.
"No, no, a sleep spell," Anders said hastily, looking at him. "Do mages in your world not have such a thing?"
Mardin shook his head. "Not that I know of. You mean you know a spell to put people to sleep?"
"Yes, most mages here do. It's a pretty basic spell, and apparently, it does work on shifters," Anders explained. "As I heard it, your sister did lose control once during the Blight, when she thought Commander Alistair was dead, and one of the mages with them used a sleep spell on her when she tried to attack the Hero of Ferelden. Well, I guess he was just a Warden, back then. Anyway, it worked; your sister was herself when she woke up, and no one got badly hurt."
Ayla must have been horrified, to hear that she'd lost control and tried to attack someone, Mardin thought, frowning. It was every shifter's worst nightmare; the fear that what everyone said about them being wild animals and monsters was true. But yes, if she'd thought her mate was dead, that easily could have been enough to push her over the edge. Rage and grief at losing a loved one, either one's mate or family, was usually the number one cause; if he ever found out that someone had killed Ayla, he doubted he'd be able to keep himself under control, either. "If you ever see me lose control, I want you to use that sleep spell on me," he told Anders. "Under normal circumstances, I won't, but if I hear about something happening to Ayla, well . . ." he shrugged. "You saw me when we first met."
"Of course," the mage replied, nodding seriously. "If I happen to be around, that is. Hawke knows a sleep spell, too, though. You should . . . ." he hesitated, studying Mardin carefully. "You should probably tell her soon, just in case."
Mardin sighed. "I know. I know I should. I just – I don't know – "
"How she will react?" Anders supplied gently.
"Exactly. Demon? Monster? Wild animal? I've heard all of those," Mardin said, trying to keep the bitter edge from his tone and not quite succeeding. "And that's from my world, where there's a lot of us shifters."
Anders shook his head. "Hawke won't judge you, I promise you. No mage – or at least, no mage with any sense," he amended, rolling his eyes, "would have a problem with you."
Mardin nodded slowly, remembering how happy Brianna had looked when he told her he wouldn't judge mages without getting to know them first. "What about the others?"
"Well, I can't speak for the elf," Anders spat with a sneer, "but I don't think Varric or Carver would have a problem. Carver has been around mages all his life, and Varric has been very accepting of me, a possessed mage, so I doubt he'd have a problem with you."
Mardin raised an eyebrow. "You and Fenris don't get along, I take it?" Now that he thought of it, he did seem to remember hearing Fenris say something along the lines of "abomination" when talking about Anders before, though he hadn't been totally sure of what he'd heard at the time.
Anders snorted. "You could say that. He hates all mages simply because they're mages."
"I see," Mardin replied, deciding he didn't want to get in the middle of this one. From what little Varric had told him, he knew that Fenris's former master was a mage, meaning that however prejudiced Fenris might be, there was certainly a reason behind it, and it was definitely not a situation that he wanted to involve himself in if he could avoid it. "But what about the rest of it, where I'm from? Do you think she'll believe that?"
Anders smiled, his attention apparently successfully diverted from Fenris. "Well, as it happens, she's already been asking me what I know about you and your sister." He explained to Mardin how Brianna had come to see him early yesterday morning, with questions about where he was really from and who he really was.
Mardin laughed in spite of himself. "She saw through me right from the beginning? And here I thought I was doing so well!"
Anders chuckled. "That's Hawke for you. Anyway, she obviously doesn't know what it all means, but I think once you tell her the truth, she'll see how it makes sense. It was hard for all of us Wardens to accept at first, too, but we came to realize that it did make sense, however unusual it was. It explained all of the things Ayla didn't know that she should, and all the things that she could do that no one else here could; and, of course, all her references to a country and culture no one had ever heard of."
"And if she doubts me at first, you'll back me up?" Mardin asked Anders. "If I have someone else that can verify my word, that will probably make the whole thing seem less . . . crazy."
"Of course," Anders agreed. "If she doubts you once you've told her, I will tell her what I know. By that point, it will no longer be a secret for her."
Before Mardin could say anything further, he heard Varric's voice call out above the din of the crowd, "Red! Blondie!" He turned his head to see Varric standing on the stairs leading up to the second floor, waving at them. "I'll be right there!"
"Well," Mardin said as Varric began to push his way through the crowd towards them, "it seems it's time to talk about something else. I don't know want anybody to know yet, not until I'm ready to tell them."
"Of course not," Anders replied. "As I told Brianna, even if I'm not a Warden any longer, this is one secret I will definitely keep. I owe your sister and the Commander too much to ever break that promise."
"Thank you," Mardin said gratefully, nodding at the mage. "I know Ayla would appreciate it. Anyway, you might as well tell me some stories about her time with you and the Wardens, then. I told Varric he could listen in on those. Just skip over the more suspicious parts," he added, winking at Anders, who laughed.
"Great to see you, Blondie," Varric declared, reaching their table at the same time as the barmaid did with the food and drinks. "I've got a whole pile of questions I need to ask you, now that I know your Commander was one of the heroes of the Blight!"
"I would expect nothing less, Varric," Anders replied with a smile, as Mardin thanked the barmaid for their food, and Varric ordered himself an ale. "Where would you like to start?"
"Oh, that's a tough one," Varric mused as he pulled a chair up, planting himself in it. "Let's see . . . oh, I know! How about the fight against the archdemon? He must have told you about that one, right? I've heard some crazy things about the battle at Denerim. Do you know, some of the fighters that were there swear they saw a panther fighting the archdemon? A panther!"
Mardin tried his best not to choke on his mouthful of ale as he shot a glance at Anders, whose eyes widened with surprise for a brief second before he recovered. "A panther?" the mage said with a laugh. "Wouldn't a griffon make more sense?"
"Exactly!" Varric exclaimed, slapping the table. "That's what I said! If you're going to embellish a story, it should at least be something believable! Everybody knows the Wardens used to fight with griffons before they went extinct. No one's ever heard of them using panthers before, and just how would you get a panther to do what you told it, anyway?"
"It would be difficult, I suspect," Mardin said gravely, seeing Anders' lips twitch in amusement. Unable to help himself, Mardin added, "It would probably only listen about half the time, if that."
This time, Anders choked on a mouthful of ale, and when he finally recovered from his coughing fit, he shot a glare at Mardin, who merely shrugged innocently in response.
"You okay, Blondie?" asked Varric in concern.
"I'm fine," Anders managed hoarsely. "It just, uh, went down wrong. So, you wanted to hear about the fight with the archdemon? The Commander didn't really like to talk about it, but he did tell us the story once."
"Great!" Varric exclaimed, pulling out a leather-bound journal and a stub of lead. "Tell me everything you remember. All the details he told you!"
"Okay," Anders said, and proceeded to tell Varric the story, though it was a panther-free version, of course.
Mardin listened, though he only half paid attention to the parts that didn't include his sister, as he thought about what he and Anders had talked about. He did need to tell Brianna and the others soon about his shifter nature, he decided. It might be easiest just to show them, however, and it would likely be best to show them in a battle where they could see how useful it might be, one with staggering odds. Given the way things always seemed to go with their jobs, he was sure there would be a useful opportunity soon. He could only hope that Anders was right about the way she and the others would react; he didn't know what he would do otherwise.