Author's Note: Sorry, my dears, but this last chapter took longer than expected to write because—surprise!—it's really TWO chapters. e_e
Yeah, we all should have seen that coming.
Anyway, you know I won't post the first part of a cliffhanger without having the second ready to go (or close to it), which I have! So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy…
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Goodbye, Maeve (Part I)
"Fenris! I love you!"
He couldn't believe his ears. Here they were, hanging out over a pit littered with deadly rubble and debris, a few bodies already strewn beneath them to prove the threat, while the only thing keeping them from falling was a dusty old rope he had found before jumping in to save her…
And the first thing she said to him was that she loved him.
It wasn't so much what she said, but how she said it. She sounded surprised, a bit startled, even somewhat pleased, as if she had just discovered something pleasant. 'Fenris! I found my shoe!' 'Fenris! Look at that scarf!' 'Fenris! The roses are blooming!'
'Fenris! I love you!'
The kiss she smothered him with wasn't helping, either. With one arm holding her securely against him, and the other keeping a death grip on the rope, he was at a loss how to pull away or get her to stop. Seeing no other option available to him, he turned his face and ground out two words from between his teeth.
"Not now."
"Wha…?" she blinked, tilting her head back after finding herself nuzzling his jaw. The joy of seeing him, coupled with the fact that he had just saved her life—how many near misses with death had she had that day?—had overwhelmed her for a moment, pushing aside all other thoughts or worries or even their current predicament. The only thing her overtaxed brain could handle at that moment, was the simple fact that she was with the man she loved. But they weren't out of danger yet. "Oh, right," she swallowed, erroneously risking a glance downward; she counted four bodies, besides Everyone, lying splattered below. She definitely did not want to join them. "So, um, you want me to climb up? My hand, erm, it's really…" she tried not to think of how her crippled hand had betrayed her and allowed Everyone to fall to his death, "… I could try, but…"
"Hold on."
"Hold on," she repeated, looking back at Fenris, at last noticing how he had one hand on the rope while the other was holding her to him. "Right. You're going to need both hands, aren't you, to pull us up. I'll just, ah…" Her nervous words trailed awkwardly away, almost as awkwardly as her movements as she tried to find a better purchase on his body. He didn't have on his usual extras, his belt or pouches or even the sheathe for his greatsword, so she was a little flustered at first as to how she was supposed to hold on. He kept her secure, however, and safe until she finally settled for draping one arm over his shoulder, the other around his ribs, left hand locking tightly with her right wrist. She pressed herself as close up against him as she could, ducking her head into the crook of his neck, her breath tickling his skin as she declared, "Ready."
Venhedis, but this was difficult. She was so warm, so close to him, so alive, and the life-threatening danger stirred his already heated blood… If they weren't dangling over a pit, he would probably fuck her right then and there. His body was certainly willing and capable at that moment, and she was positioned so perfectly… He forced the urge back and focused his attention on climbing.
Hrodwynn felt his arm leave her and for a moment she feared she would fall after all. But her own arms held her fast, thankfully, and though she couldn't see, she imagined she could feel them rising upwards, one arm-length at a time, over and over in a steady rhythm, swaying slightly left to right. She did feel the body within her groping embrace, the torso bending or twisting, hips sometimes shifting and bunching as if his legs might have found purchase on something to help them, and she trembled. She trembled at the strength before her, the determination, the unending endurance, and whispered yet again.
"…I love you…"
"Kevesh," he panted, and his movements stopped.
"Fenris?" she wondered, and began to fear that he wasn't as strong or determined or durable as she believed. The face above her was sweaty, flushed with blood, but the body, the muscles remained steady and sure.
"Climb up."
He watched while slightly overly large emerald eyes first blinked at him, and then looked past to see where they were, right at the lip of the broken floorboards. He could see the confusion fade away as she realized they were nearly there, nearly safe. As much as he was loathed to let her slip away, he knew he couldn't pull them both over the edge of the pit, and so he had to allow her to climb over him, grab the rope in one hand and the boards with the other, and pull herself up. He helped as much as he could, his hand on her posterior giving her a boost, his eyes keeping vigilant watch lest she lose her grip. She didn't fall, however, didn't even teeter or sway, as she scrambled ungainly onto the relative safety of the main floor of the warehouse.
"Move back," he commanded, wanting her as far away from the creaking and weakened floor as possible.
"Right, it's still unsafe, isn't it," she nodded. "I'll just, ah, be back… over here… there, I mean… near the wall…" Why she was nervous, she couldn't quite say, but there was something about him, something off, something out of the norm about her lover that alerted and alarmed her. She did as he ordered, stepping backwards from the pit until she was fairly sure she was safe, though not so far from him that she couldn't watch, couldn't see every little detail as he climbed out. His face was still flushed and his expression a bit tense, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth parted. His movements, however, were graceful, catlike, his long and lean muscles hardly showing any fatigue as he reached his feet.
"Fenris…?"
He started towards her, his eyes having never once left her since she had made it to safety.
"Fenris?"
She took half a step back, and then another, and his pace picked up a little faster in response. Before she could take another breath, his hands were on her shoulders, tight and firm, just a hair away from bruising. She continued to try to back away, and he continued to pursue, almost pushing her now before him, pushing her back, until her body slammed into the wall. His own body followed the next moment, crashing against her as the waves against the wharf, hands holding her fast as his eyes devoured hers.
Then he kissed her.
His lips were warm, firm against hers, moving with a force and a will that would not be denied—as if she would deny him a kiss. Hadn't she been the one trying to kiss him earlier?—and when his mouth parted, so did hers. When his tongue reached out, so did hers. She tasted him as he savored her, tasted the blood from a battle and the bile of anxiety, the bitterness of an empty victory and the sweetness of an unexpected reward. Eyes closed she focused on their kiss, focused on the firmness of his body against hers, his engorged member straining against his leggings as he lined up and matched the center of her heated core.
If he hadn't been holding on to her, pinning her against the wall, she was sure her very bones would have melted, leaving her to ooze down to the floor into a puddle of goo.
When he broke off the kiss, she was surprised to find herself still on her feet. Blinking shining, almost teary eyes up at his dark and shadowed eyes, she challenged, "You gonna say anything more than two words?"
She was smiling, reveling in the small and fleeting moment of joy over their reunion after all that had happened. He wasn't smiling, however, though he was reveling just as much as she.
"I thought you were dead."
"Better," she snarked, the meaning taking a moment to sink in, "That's, what, five words, and… WHAT?!"
One of his hands left her shoulder, burying itself in her hair, mindless of the sharp talons on his gauntlet, as his eyes continued to swallow her whole. "I'd last seen you in the Chantry. When it exploded, I…" his voice deepened until it broke, his eyes growing remorseful, almost pleading for forgiveness. "I left you there. I thought… I thought I'd… left you to your death."
"What? No," she shook her head, feeling her hair catch in his gauntlet but ignoring the tug. Her hands cupped his face, holding him before her, keeping him from turning away in some weird, self-imposed guilt trip. "No, Fenris, no, you didn't, I mean, well," she made a funny little face, "Yeah, alright, you did leave me in the Chantry, sure. And I was going to stay there, I really did intend to, until you came back to collect me. But, well…" her teeth nipped at her lip, "I got bored."
He didn't know whether he should scold her, or laugh. He settled for a bit of a hiccough that could have been taken either way. "Bored?"
"Too right," she nodded in confirmation. "I mean, I did sit on a pew and waited for a bit for Mother Elyse, but then this other woman came out and said the Mother wouldn't be available for quite some time. But we talked instead, this other Mother and I, and I did feel better, I suppose, after. And Elthina said I could stay there and just, um, sit and think and clear my heart, or something like that, but I got bored. And the pews are so uncomfortable. And I just knew the rest of you were having some adventure without me, so I left to try to find you."
"Wait," Fenris leaned back, giving her some air, and himself, as he tried to clarify, "With whom did you speak?"
"Oh, right," she smiled, adding a smidgen of attitude. "Turns out it was the Grand Cleric herself I talked with, nice lady, very real… Oh!" she stopped, suddenly realizing, "She's gone, isn't she? Along with… along with…" her eyes fell to the gaping hole in the floor, "Everyone… everyone else…"
He pulled her into her arms, as much to reassure himself as to reassure her, "But not you. You're alive, amatus. You're alive. Though I still have no idea how."
Hrodwynn gave a small sniff and looked up at him, batting her eyes to push back the tears, "Me neither. Things got fuzzy for a time. I remember I'd quit the Chantry, was walking through Hightown, I think headed for the docks, intending to catch up with you lot, and then…" she shrugged, "It's all messed up, in and out like shadows through a fog, but I wasn't in the Chantry when it exploded, didn't really know what had happened until after Donnic found me."
"But you didn't come looking for me then," he prompted. "Donnic found us later at the Gallows. He told us, you said you had to find Everyone. He thought you meant everyone as in the rest of us."
"But you knew better, didn't you," she gave him a smile, "You knew who I meant. And you came looking for me. Wait, how did you find me? There must be a dozen empty warehouses on this street alone, much less all the other streets leading away from the docks. How did you know to look inside this one?"
"I picked the one that looked like it was about to suffer some horrendous disaster, figured you'd be in the thick of it." It was a gentle tease, and it worked, eliciting a timid smile across one corner of her mouth. "Honestly, it was the spell. I heard what sounded like a burst of magic, and then I heard your voice shouting something after. By the time I found the door and got inside, the roof had already caved in and made that pit, and Jaxon was racing out the back way. I feared the worst when I saw you and Everyone hanging there. I wanted to call out to you, but there wasn't any time. I grabbed a length of rope I'd seen coiled up by some barrels, lashed one end around a post and the other around my waist, and jumped in. I could only pray that it would hold. And that I could get to you in time."
"Yes, you reached me…" again she looked past him at the pit, "…just in time."
Very tenderly, and equally carefully, his gauntleted fingers stroked her cheek. "I'm… sorry… about Everyone. I know you cared for him."
"I'm sorry, too," she nodded, staring back at the hole. Yet she was the one who broke herself out of her mourning this time. Giving herself a little shake, she turned away from the pit and, taking Fenris' hand, started leading him towards the door. "So, fancy breaking into the Orlesian Embassy again, this time the right way?"
He allowed her to pull him along, if only to get away from the dangerous and partly-collapsed warehouse. "Hrodwynn, Donnic said you hit your head. Are you feeling alright? Do you need another healing potion or anything?"
"Never better," she replied, almost cheerily. Looking over her shoulder at him, seeing the dark and disbelieving tilt to this eyebrows, she elaborated. "I'm not insane, Fenris; Elthina convinced me of that. Though I do have some things to explain to you, just not right now. And, yes, my head got knocked a few times, debris and all from the explosion, but that sort of… set things right."
"Set things right?" he repeated, remaining skeptical.
"Yeah, right, as in, in my right mind. Maeve's mind." She made a face, "Well, sort of. I'm still me, I mean, Hrodwynn, but now I remember Maeve, too. It's not quite how you said, when you got your memory back, with remembering Leto—the you from before—like you were remembering a character in a story. Maeve is… more real, I guess. Like she's just woken up, and is still a little girl, and frightened, but trying to be brave and finish what father started. Only it's been years, and Hrodwynn's been here for so long, and it's a little hard to figure out where one girl ends and the other begins," she gave a nervous huff of laughter, "But that seems to be my lot in life, lately, everything just slightly wonky."
"You… really are… the Earl's…"
She stopped. They'd reached a corner and she wanted to take a careful look around before deciding on their next step. There were a lot of people milling about, most of them trying to find some sort of shelter from the occasional chunk of building still raining down. Thankfully, though it also left her feeling somewhat perturbed, there were no Coterie uniforms in sight. "Yes, Fenris, Sebastian was right; I really am Maeve Edmonte, the daughter of Luke and Janelle. Did you see which way Jaxon went?"
"Vishante kaffas!" he swore heatedly, trying to keep up with the swiftly changing topics of conversation. "Ah, no idea. He was just leaving when I got there, and I had to rescue you, so I let him get away. What the fuck does he have to do with any of this?"
She stopped looking around to look at him. If anything, his disbelief was stronger than before, reinforced with irritation and impatience and a heavy share of confusion. "We don't have time, Fenris. Come on." She took a step, but he refused to move, stubbornly digging his heels in. Not wanting to leave without him, but continuing to feel rushed, she gave his arm a tug, "Dammit, Fen, he's getting ahead of us. We've got to go!"
"Go. Where."
It wasn't a question, it was a demand. She closed her eyes and gave up trying to pull him, at least for the moment, and instead tried to reason with him, "Listen, I'll explain it all on the way, but we have to get to the Orlesian Embassy before Jaxon does. I know, Fenris, I know what Brekker was after all those years ago, and if we don't hurry, Jaxon will get there first and muck it all up."
"Start at the beginning," he ordered, but he did keep his end of the bargain and began walking with her. "With Maeve."
"Yes, she was there, at the beginning," Hrodwynn acknowledged. "Well, you know the story Sebastian told, about the Earl taking his family to Orlais while he negotiated a trade agreement with the Marquis Dupres? That's about all of the story that's spot on. What really happened is that while we were there as the Marquis' guests, my father overheard him negotiating with a representative of the Grand Duke Gaspard, the Empress's own cousin. They were hammering out a deal where the Marquis would supply the men, and the Grand Duke the coin, to assassinate the Empress."
"Sounds like typical Orlesian politics to me," Fenris hummed, "Nothing to get upset about. Certainly nothing that should lead to your parents' deaths."
"Except that the idiots put it in writing," Hrodwynn paused, her voice growing soft with regret, "And then my father stole the document."
"That I could see the Marquis and the Grand Duke taking offense at." He squeezed her hand with sympathy.
"I don't think the Grand Duke ever found out," she wiped at her face with her free hand, and Fenris pretended not to see the tears. "We can go this way; it's a shortcut. I took it earlier, so I know it's clear of the chokedamp."
"Lead on," he nodded, "And continue. The Marquis discovered the document missing, I assume, and blamed your father?"
"Correct," she nodded, picking up the tale as she picked their route through Darktown. "Dupres sent the mercenaries after us, like the story goes, and father did split us up, putting mum and I with Averlawn on one ship, while he took another. He'd hoped the mercenaries would ignore us and come after him because he had the document. But our ship was slower, and the mercenaries thought it would be easier to capture our ship and trade our lives for the document. Thing is," she paused in her steps to look over her shoulder at Fenris, "We had the document the whole time, mum and I."
Fenris blinked at her, "Fuck."
"Right?" she agreed, quickening their pace as it seemed she now had his full attention, "So the mercenaries attack our ship, and we fight back and damage theirs. It sinks, but not before they make it onto our ship and take it over. But our ship got damaged, too, and is in need of a few repairs, so they sail into the nearest port."
"Kirkwall."
She nodded again, "Kirkwall. Once we docked, once she knew where we were, mum and Averlawn come up with a plan."
"Averlawn?" Fenris stopped her this time. He'd seen a couple of Coterie thugs walk past the opening of the alley they were using. They weren't Jaxon's men, but why take the chance? "You mentioned this other person before; who is he or she?"
"Averlawn," she repeated, leaning against the wall for support, fairly tired after the day she'd had and knowing it would be longer still before she could seek her bed. "Averlawn is Everyone. He was… what… I can't explain exactly… he's been there my whole life, ever since I was very little. I think father hired him first as a private instructor for me. But he became more than that. He was my nurse, my nanny, my playmate, my confidante," she smiled sadly, her eyes lost in memory, "My best friend. My first memory of him is laughing and playing as he's chasing me. I used to call him elf-man, and though he didn't mind, father didn't approve. Said it wasn't proper for a young lady to use such a vulgar term. So he tried to teach me his name, Averlawn, but I misunderstood and called him Everyone. The name stuck."
"Everyone was your… tutor?"
"Yeah, weird, huh? I think the coast is clear, now, we should keep going."
Fenris shook his head, not out of disagreement, but from shock. "By all means, go on."
The two started off down the street, heading towards a ramp that would lead them to Hightown, "So, Everyone/Averlawn and mum came up with a plan to get the document, and me, off the ship. You see, the mercenaries were keeping mum and me and separate cabins, sort of using that separation to keep us in line; one of us couldn't do anything because we didn't know what was happening to the other. But they didn't know Averlawn was who he was, because when they first boarded our ship, he changed his clothes into some grimy old clothes he stole off a dead crewman. Anyway, they thought he was just a servant, so they allowed him to move back and forth between our cabins freely. He did, carrying messages between mum and I, and devising this plan to escape.
"Mum knew father had a friend in Kirkwall," she continued, "He was the Orlesian Ambassador at that time, and a very strong supporter of the Empress. Mum believed he would do the right thing with the document." They took a turn, pushed open a gate, and found themselves in Hightown. It was still in upheaval, a lot of the streets blocked with rubble and crumbling mansions, unidentified people running sporadically in and out of the smoke and dust. "Damn, but this is a mess."
"You're sure you want to break into that Embassy?" he pressed.
Her eyes glinted in the moonlight as she glibly replied, "No better time. The City Guard is after the looters, the looters after a quick coin, and the citizens are just trying to stay out of the way. The Embassy will be locked down tight, focused on keeping their own little corner of the city safe and secure, all their attention will be outward, but I think I know of a back way in. Come on, let's go this way."
He rolled his eyes, but as he was behind her, she didn't see. He did keep hold of her hand, however, not trusting his ability to stay with her in the murky night. "You were saying your mother had a plan to get you off the ship."
"Yup. Averlawn was to cause a distraction, some sort of explosion or fire I think it was, and in the confusion he would come to my cabin and sneak me and the document off the ship, through Kirkwall, and seek refuge with the Ambassador. Simple, right?"
"Simple in planning, not so simple in execution, I'm guessing."
"You guessed right. I…" she sighed, dropping her head for a moment, "I think I mucked it up. I don't know, maybe it wouldn't have worked, anyway, or maybe it would've gone perfectly, but I refused to leave, not without seeing mum first. I'm afraid," she half-laughed, half-choked back a sob, "I'm afraid I was a bit of a spoiled brat when I was little. And Averlawn could never say no to me."
"You do seem to have that way with some men," he agreed, often having found himself unable to deny her, tonight being a perfect example. "Elven men, in particular."
She sniffed, gave him a smile for his efforts, and continued, "Mum's cabin was dark. Now, looking back on it, I think she turned the lantern down herself. But at the time, I only know I wanted to see her, and I couldn't because she was in shadow, so I started to cry. She… she didn't want me there… she didn't want me to see what they had done to her…" her voice cracked, her own abuse remembered, and yet she forged onward with her narrative. "She gave me a hug, told me not to cry, to be brave for father's sake, that he needs me to be brave, to do this for him, to leave her and go with Averlawn and take the document with us and run.
"But we took too long, all because I wanted to see mum before we left. The mercenaries spotted us as Averlawn was helping me over the rail. I… slipped. I tried to hold on to my doll, Averlawn was holding on to the doll, too. But I fell. I fell and landed on the dock and hit my head and… I don't know, Fenris. I guess… I guess I lost my memory then, because of the blow to my head. But I could remember some small part of it all, I suppose, because I knew I had to run. And I ran. No idea where I was going, or what I was running from, but I knew I had to run." She shrugged. "So I ran."
"And all this time," he summed up, "You've had no idea who you were, what happened to Averlawn or the document, or your parents for that matter—any of it—until…"
"Until the Chantry blew, and I got hit in the head—again—and it jogged my marbles loose. Erm, my memory, that is. Marbles are still all there."
"Good to know," he agreed. Suddenly he gripped her arm with his free hand, halting her. "Wait, what street are we on? Isn't that…"
She had looked to him when he grabbed her, but now she followed his gaze to see what had captured his attention. With a gasp she nearly tore away from him, but he held her fast at his side where it was safe. "No! Our home! Our mansion, it's…"
"…gone." His voice grew low and quiet. The two of them stood there for several moments, the night and its hidden dangers passing unnoticed around them, as they took in the destruction.
The mansion that Fenris had usurped all those years ago, that the two of them had squatted in, lived in, made a home in, made love in, was little more than a pile of rubble. The far back of the building was still upright, bits of roof and walls and even part of a floor sticking out into the air. But most of the building was nothing more than rubbish, chunks of stone and marble, odd bits of metal or fabric poking out here and there, everything broken and laid to waste.
"Our cats," she whispered, "Cassia and Felinus…"
He suddenly exhaled, sounding a bit relieved, and bent over to whisper in her ear, "Over there, to the left."
She followed his direction, hoping in her heart, praying for some little miracle, and her prayer was answered. They were hard to see in the night, their coats blending into the shadows, but two cats were standing at the entrance to an alley, standing and staring at their people. The four locked gazes for a bit, assessing each other, checking for hurts and noting they were all healthy and whole. Then with a flick of her tail, Cassia turned and disappeared deeper into the alley, Felinus faithfully following.
"No, wait…"
"Let them go," Fenris again held her back. "They're safe, and they know we're safe. Besides, there's no home for us to share with them right now. It would be best for them to take care of themselves."
"I…" she sniffed again, "I suppose you're right. But I'm going to miss them!" She started to wipe her nose on her sleeve, thought better of it, and began patting herself around her pouches and pockets. "I think I've still got it."
"Still got what?" Fenris wondered, but his question was answered when she pulled out a small, white handkerchief.
"Wish I'd remembered this earlier when I was so worried about running across pockets of chokedamp, but suppose it's for the best. Not really usable for anything else, now, is it?" She blew her nose into the handkerchief Elthina had given her.
"Suppose not," he humored her, still unconvinced she wasn't just a little bit nutters after all. "Shall we continue?"
She beamed up at him. "Yes, let's."
As the two moved off, several shadows emerged from the alley between two mostly-intact mansions across the street. "Fuck! They're ahead of us. If we try to get to the Embassy now, they could spot us. What do you want us to do, boss?"
The boss took a step further than his men, an unlit cigar in one hand. Pointing it after the two, he commanded. "Follow them."
"Follow them?" the same thug spoke up again. "Why should we follow them, when we know where they're going? Why don't we just circle around and ambush them before they can get to the Embassy?"
"Because," the boss snipped off the end of his cigar with a very sharp pair of clippers, "Little Wynnie has just volunteered to do all the hard work for us." Snip. "Nah, we'll let her and her knife-ear lover break into the Embassy, break into the safe, and get the information we need—they need. Then, all we have to do is follow them right to it."
"Are you sure?" Apparently the thug didn't know when to stop "We could lose them in the fog or the night. Or they could spot us following them. Or…"
"Are you questioning me?" the boss challenged. He hadn't raised his voice, not in pitch or volume, only raised his cigar and clippers, holding them at eye level between he and his underling.
Finally, the thug got the hint. "Ah, no, boss, come on, guys. Keep quiet now; voices carry in the night. The two went this way."
Jaxon's smile was without mirth as he watched his men move off down the street, after Hrodwynn and Fenris. Perhaps tonight would turn out well after all.
"He's not here," Hawke sighed, looking around in despair.
"I thought for sure he would be," Merril twittered as she finished tying a bandage around an elf's leg. She didn't want to leave, not with so many people hurt and in need of care. Ever since her clan had… well, she felt good again whenever she was here in the Alienage. Needed. Belonging. In her place. Yet she didn't object, standing and brushing off her hands on her leggings, as finding Everyone and Hrodwynn and Fenris was important, too. "It's not safe for him anywhere else, especially things being as they are today, erm, tonight. And he's usually home by now, if he hasn't gotten himself into a spot of trouble, that is."
"Think for a moment, Daisy," Varric prompted, "If Everyone isn't here at the Alienage, where could he be? Where else does he go? Is there a hiding place or a favorite street where he likes to beg?"
"A street, no," she shook her head, "But he will often go down to the docks to beg."
"No, he wasn't there," Aveline interrupted impatiently. "We would have seen him then when we landed…"
"Oh, no," Merril interrupted her right back, "Not THOSE docks. He never begs at the nicer part of the docks, always down on the other end, by the cutthroats and pirates. No offense, Isabela."
"None taken," she waved it aside.
Varric and Hawke exchanged a long look. "Makes sense," the dwarf started, "That was where Fenris was headed when he jumped ship."
Hawke pinched the bridge of his nose, "Andraste's knitted knickers, am I never to find any rest tonight? Alright, everyone, erm, everybody, let's head back to the docks. Come on, now. The sooner we're there, the sooner we can find the others, the sooner this is all over and we can all go home. Move along." He began ushering and shooing them back the way they had come, his arms outstretched like he was herding cattle.
Maker's breath, but this had been a long day.
"So, um," Fenris sought for a way to restart their conversation, or rather Hrodwynn's explanation, "Why are we headed to the Orlesian Embassy, if the document never made it off the ship?"
"The document never made it off the ship with me," she clarified, "But I'm positive it did make it off the ship. I think I even remember hearing about it, around the time when that old lady who first took me in, in Lowtown, the one who named me Hrodwynn? Anyway, every customer of hers it seemed was talking about it, gossiping over how there'd been a battle out in the bay between a pirate ship and an Orlesian frigate. The Orlesians won, of course, and executed every last pirate, but I don't think that was the end of it. Here we are."
Fenris looked around them, unimpressed. They were standing halfway down an alley, far enough back where the moonlight couldn't penetrate, and turned to face one of the buildings. "Where?"
"At the Embassy," she tapped the wall in front of them with her knuckles. "If memory serves, this would've been about the spot you came out, after our first break-in."
He felt his cheeks heat over that fiasco, remembering with shame how he had been forced to leave her behind to suffer lashes for them both, and was thankful the night was so dark. Pushing aside the painful memory—he knew she still bore the scars from that day, faded as they were by time—he nodded. "I believe you are correct. And I think I can see where this is going. I am to slip back in, phasing through the wall like I did before, straight to the room where the safe is, pick it, and come back through the wall again, all without the guards realizing I've been there, because they're watching outward, not inward."
"Yes, and no," she planted herself in front of him. "You're not going without me. I'm the one who's got to crack the Siggerdson—again."
"No."
"They're too tricky, Fenris," she pressed, "With the three separately spinning dials, each with their own discs, each disc having about four to five bolts a piece, all those bolts needing to line up to pass through the notches on the discs so the door frees up, not to mention the delicate glass tubes filled with Glitterdust just waiting for an excuse to break. One bad sneeze and you're dead! So I'm going with you."
"It cannot be done," he countered.
"It can," she fired back. "You phased our hands together once to pick a lock. And you and Matthias phased me with the two of you through a wall as thick as this one."
"You said it, that took two of us. I'm only one man."
"But I know you, Fenris. I know you've given that odd, little quirky accident a lot of thought. I know you've been working it through in your mind, trying to figure out how you'd done it, how you could do it again. And I can see by the look on your face that I'm right. Well, this is your chance to find out, to prove to yourself that it can be done. I'm up for the challenge, are you?"
His nostrils flared, this was not going to end well. She knew him too intimately; he had been meditating on that strange occurrence, and perhaps he had developed a theory on how he could duplicate the event, but… "This is not the time or the place. Just tell me what to look for, what you want out of the safe, and I'll get it."
"No go," she stubbornly lifted her chin, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You want to know what we're looking for, you gotta take me with you."
He had one tactic left. Taking hold of her right wrist, he yanked her arm free and held her curved and crippled fingers in front of her face. "You still think you can crack a Siggerdson? With this?"
It was a low blow, and he knew it long before the tears welled up in her eyes. But she countered him, as he feared she would, "You know I can use my left hand just as good as my right. Better, in some cases. Get me inside, I'll get us into the safe."
"Venhedis," he closed his eyes, but he let go of her hand. "Very well. Hold still, hold very still, and only move when I tell you. Understood?"
She nodded, realized that his eyes were still closed, and said out loud, "I understand."
"Face the wall."
She did so. It was unnerving, the two of them a bit raw emotionally after their little argument, but she still trusted him, with her life if need be, and she would need to trust him with her life considering what they were attempting to do.
One wrong move, and she would find herself dead, fossilized inside solid stone.
She felt him behind her, his body hard and hot and near. Then the sensation changed, growing cooler, but not a coolness from a breeze, more like the coolness from simply a lack of heat. He lifted his arms slightly from his sides, palms forward, just far enough to be parallel with her hips, and the coolness intensified. She could see the bluish-white glow of the lyrium pulsing out from his body, engulfing her, then stretching out before them, and she had the strangest sensation that she was being pulled forward into that bubble of light. She resisted the urge, remembering his command to do exactly as he said, and waited. The next moment he was there with her, or she was there with him rather, her body now phased along with his. Momentarily she imagined their heads superimposed on each other, and wondered if they shouldn't be able to read each other's thoughts if both their heads were phased together.
"First the left foot," he suddenly spoke, and it felt like the sound was coming out of her own closed mouth, "Then the right. Walk directly forward. Small steps, no more than a foot at a time. And do not stop. When we reach the room, keeping going; I'll un-phase from around you. Ready?"
"Ready," she gulped.
"Begin."
She didn't know what to expect. Passing through a wall that first time, she'd had quite a lot of other matters on her mind; she hadn't had the time or the brainpower to spare, to take in the sights, to remember and examine and categorize the experience.
The sensations were hard to describe. It was more… a lack than anything tactile. If she could feel nothing, then this is what it would feel like. And the sight, thankfully, was black; she wasn't sure how she would have felt watching solid stone pass through her, or herself through solid stone. But she supposed it made sense that it was so dark, as there was no source of light within the wall, there would of course be nothing for her to see. For one panicky moment she thought, perhaps, she might have gotten turned around, mixed up somehow, stepped to the side and off course. Yet through it all, without being able to see him or feel him or even hear him, she KNEW Fenris was with her. Forcing herself to remain calm, she focused on her steps, one by one, left then right, over and over.
She knew the moment they stepped out of the wall and into the room with the safe, as things were a little less dim. There wasn't a lamp or anything lit, there wasn't a need as the guards were outside the door and not in the room, yet some light was trickling in from outside, probably through the crack beneath the door. It was that lessening dimness that told her they had made it.
Walking into a stool told her Fenris was no longer phasing around her.
"Shh," he grabbed her arm to steady her, keeping his face turned towards the door.
"Bloody shite," she whispered as she rubbed at her shin, "That hurt. Do you think they heard us?"
He shook his head, though he continued to stare at the unmoving shadows painting the crack beneath the door. "I'll keep watch. You crack the safe."
"Gladly," she sighed, letting go of her shin to fumble at her pouches, pulling out the tools of her trade. "It's been simply ages since I've had a good row with a lock. And this will make it, what, three times that I've cracked this particular safe. Once in the Harbor Master's Office, and twice here…"
"Will you keep quiet?" his voice was so low and deep, it was almost subsonic.
"Sorry," she absently hummed, her main attention on the Siggerdson, "I suppose I'm a bit more nervous than I've wanted to let on. This will also be the first time I've plied my trade since…" her voice grew even quieter, so much so that she barely breathed her next words, "Well, you know, Tevinter."
He spared her a single glance, fearful that she might be having a panic attack or some other type of reaction, but her back was to him so he couldn't judge by her expression. He could, however, make a fair assessment using her body language. She appeared confident and poised, her shoulders unbowed and her movements sure. She had taken the stool with her to sit on, and the only weakness she showed was by resting her right elbow on her knee to help steady her hand while she guided the pick into the small hole beside the top dial. Then, her left hand floating in the air before the safe, she inserted the hook.
"You don't have to do this, you know," he again offered. "I could phase into the safe and…"
"Not on your life!" she hissed, "Or, rather, I wouldn't really risk your life, but…" she sighed, pulling the hook back out of the hole. She didn't look up at him, but instead stared at the safe, talking to it as well as Fenris. "I need this, Fen. I… I need to know… I've done this before, but… I have to prove it, to myself, that I can do this again. I NEED to break this Siggerdson."
He came up beside her, set a hand on her shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. "Then get cracking."
Watching her profile, he could see her roll her eyes over the pun.
"Tell me what all you've been up to today."
"What?" he asked. He had been about to turn his attention back to the door when she spoke, and nearly snapped his neck turning back.
"I've been talking for, what, hours it seems now," she hummed, setting the pick and hook back into the hole. Through the tiny opening she could reach and move around the inner discs without having to bother turning the outside dial. "Your turn. Talk to me, for a bit, tell me what happened at the Gallows. It'll help, listening to your voice. Besides," though she wasn't smiling, her eyes were a little crinkled with merriment as she flashed him a glance, "I just know you and the others had simply loads of fun without me, despite your promise not to. Didn't you?"
Settling himself beside the safe, half watching her as he also watched the door, he told her about the Gallows. "After the Chantry exploded, Commander Meredith blamed the mages and vowed to make every last one of them Tranquil. Enchanter Orsino was just as extreme, and ended up resorting to blood magic to prevent it, but I'm getting ahead of myself. By the time we reached the Gallows, the fighting had already begun…"
Fenris continued his tale, fairly dry though filled with facts that Hrodwynn didn't really care about, but hearing about it helped her to feel a little bit less left out. And it also helped her focus her mind, forget about her crippled hand, and concentrate on opening the safe.
All the while, the shadows beneath the door never moved.
Time crept by. During his recitation, she would sometimes make little hums and clicks of her tongue, more in reaction to what was going on with the safe than what was going on in his story. Once she gave a startled gasp, which raised the hair on the back of Fenris' neck until he heard her give a relieved exhale—only then did he pick up his tale. He could hear the safe making noises, too, soft and gentle clicks as she did whatever she was doing to it. Finally there was a small, though muted, cry of triumph from Hrodwynn, and a very firm and determined sounding click from the safe.
"I knew it," she beamed up at him, "Third time's the charm, right?"
He had looked down when he heard the safe unlock, and shook his head indulgently over her boasting. "Just open it…"
He stopped suddenly, as did she. He stopped due to the panicky expression on her face. She stopped… because the door wouldn't open.
"…shit…"
"What's wrong?" he asked, coming closer, the guards outside the door forgotten, though he continued to keep his voice low.
"Andraste's knitted knickers!" she hissed, using both hands to hold the safe's door very, very still. "The hinges… I'm guessing no one's opened this safe since the last time we did… the damn door won't open… hinges are rusted…" she panted, feeling her blood begin to race through her veins, adrenaline sending a surge that would start to make her hands shake if she didn't calm the fuck down! "Don't suppose you have any oil on you?"
Snarking usually did the trick, the false bravado, the witty quip, to take her mind off her troubles and buy her time to think! Calmly, she reminded herself, she needed to remain absolutely calm… and ABSOLUTELY STILL!
"Are you serious? Do you carry oil with you?"
"Always," she readily answered, "Never know when you might come across a squeaky hinge or a rusty tumbler. But I'm currently out, ever since… Tevinter, and haven't managed to resupply yet. Didn't think I'd be doing any picking for while," she paused, a brief flicker of chagrin crossing her face, "Made a right fool of myself, didn't I."
"How much trouble are we in?" he asked, kneeling down.
"Can't open the door," she ignored the sweat beading at her temples, "Not easily, at any rate. Have to yank it or jerk it, something like that, to get the hinges to move."
"And that will set off the Glitterdust," he finished.
"Yup. That'll make a bit of a mess." The beads of sweat gave in to the pull of gravity, joining together to run like a river down her cheek. It was all she could do, not to pull her hands away to swipe at the annoying trickle. She had no idea if the Glitterdust had already begun to tip, or if it would be perfectly safe to let go. She only knew she had to make sure the door of the safe did not move a single hair's breadth.
"What if…" Fenris began, thinking out loud, "What if I were to… phase… into the safe… grab the vials of Glitterdust, and bring them out?"
"Oh, no, luv," she snarked, "That would be cheating, wouldn't it. I mean, what's the point of breaking into this damn thing, if you take away the risk of life and limb? Besides, you've been begging to get your hands in there all night, just to show me up."
He stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not she was being serious. "You do want me to take the Glitterdust out, don't you?"
"Yes, please, I very much do."
"Then why…? Never mind," he sighed, shaking his head over her ill-timed sarcasm. He invoked the lyrium in his hand, ignoring the bone-deep searing pain as always, and reached through the door into the safe.
"Careful…" she breathed, "…should be three of them… near the top… balanced on a wire…"
"I've found them," he acknowledged, hoping that would shut her up.
"Just do one at a time… no need to rush… best to play it safe…" she continued, obviously feeling the need to chatter to ease her nerves. Seeing as she was the one holding the door, he decided to turn a deaf ear to her rambling and focus on his task. He did, however, take her advise and move slowly, one vial at a time.
He pulled his arm out from the door, the first vial cupped in his gauntlet. She stared at it with her wide emerald eyes, glowing in the light from his brands, and whispered, "Put it down gently… preferably over there… as far away from us as possible…"
He stood, his movements fluid and steady and graceful, and carried the vial as he would a fragile egg. He placed it on the floor in the far corner, made sure it couldn't roll away, and came back for the second.
The second and third vials went the same as the first, Fenris glowing, Hrodwynn nervously mumbling, movements methodical and planned out. When he'd set the third vial down, when he'd returned to her side, when the danger was past—the immediate danger, at any rate—he reached up and wiped the stream of sweat off her cheek. "I think you can open the door now."
"What? Oh, right," she turned her attention back to the Siggerdson. "Here goes everything…"
She yanked, hard. There was a faint pop as the rust fell from the hinges and then the door swung freely open. "Bloody shite," she moaned, "All that worry… for nothing…"
"Better safe than sorry," he reflected.
"Safe?" she repeated, moaning at yet another of his puns. "Give us a bit of light, would you? I need to find that manifest again."
He invoked his lyrium, and startled she looked up at him. "I meant the lamp, Fenris."
"Oh," he dropped his face and looked away, letting the light dim. "I forgot… my lyrium… when I invoke it, it reminds you of…"
"No," she shook her head and turned her attention back to rummaging in the safe, "Actually, Matthias didn't cross my mind at all. I was only thinking of how it pains you to use it, and seeing as you've been using it quite a lot lately, thought you could use a bit of a breather, that's all."
He looked back at her profile, but she didn't look as if she was lying or hiding anything from him. Apparently, seeing his lyrium glow no longer bothered her, no longer reminded her of how Matthias would use it to impersonate him, to torture and torment her. She must have felt his eyes on her, however, as she did look up at him and ask, "Fenris? Everything alright?"
He blinked, wondering if she could see something of his thoughts on his face. Quickly blanking his expression he answered, "Ah, yes, I'm fine, amatus, truly, the pain doesn't bother me all that much. Besides, this is quicker than lighting a lamp, and this light is much easier to focus." To prove his point, he invoked only the brands on the palm of his hand, bending his wrist to aim the light across the top shelf of the safe.
She shrugged, turning away from him once more. "Suit yourself. Now, where is that report? We found it the last time, at least I think we did. Hard to say for sure, as neither of us could read back then." She made a small face, hoping he couldn't see her blush, "Wasn't it in a red folder?"
"Yes, I believe you are correct," he agreed, shifting his hand down to the next shelf. "Is it that one there?"
"Sure is," she agreed, pulling out the red folder and breaking the seal—again. There were just as many papers inside as before, but this time she could decipher the spidery, fluid script of a well-learned person. Focusing on the first several pages, she flipped through until she found the one she was looking for. "Here it is, the missing piece of the puzzle."
"What is?" he queried, shifting around until he could peer over her shoulder so he could read the pages, too.
"What happened to father," she answered. "This is the report, the ambassador's own words, on the battle. Let's see…" her eyes skimmed over the words quickly, wanting to know, fearing what she would learn, but compelled to nonetheless. "Father contacted him, told him about the document, and planned how to attack the mercenaries. He would lure their ship—which used to be our ship—out into the harbor. When they were fully engaged in the chase, the ambassador would use his own frigate to come up from behind and fire a warning shot. Then they would retake the ship. Only the mercenaries took the warning shot as a challenge to do battle, and father… oh!" She nearly dropped the page, lifting eyes of emerald swimming in a pool of tears to Fenris. "He took a cannon ball to the left side of his chest. It, ah," she cleared her throat, quietly, before continuing, "It took off his arm. He died almost immediately."
Fenris put his other hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Again."
She gave herself a shake, nodded and sniffed and tried to show a brave little smile. "No reason to be, Fen. I mean, it's not like this happened just yesterday; it was over a decade ago. And really, I suppose I've known all along he was dead, he had to be didn't he, only I just didn't know exactly how." She dropped her gaze back to the pages and added quietly, "Now I do."
"There is a sort of comfort in that," he offered, "Closure, at the very least."
She nodded again, picking up the next page. "So, where was I… The ambassador won the battle and seized the mercenaries' ship. He had the crew executed, all except… That mother-fucker!"
