Disclaimer: I own myself, and I control this specific plot, but Dragon Age is owned by Bioware.
Ships were something I could have gotten used to. Stormy seas while riding in a ship, were not. Every toss of the waves sent my heart into my throat, my spine stiffened, and I was sure I hadn't blinked in hours.
"Are you alright?"
I jerked my head down.
"Are you certain?"
A fierce crack of thunder mixed with water leaking into the hold made me shake my head, gripping the arm I had claimed tighter. Another hand patted my head.
"Be strong. It isn't a bad storm yet."
Now I definitely wasn't closing my eyes. If I was gonna die, I was determined to see what killed me. The hand on my head moved to my shoulder, and I felt a sigh in the chest I leaned against.
"I'll admit, I'm not used to traveling this way, either. It's... troubling to have so little control."
Turning my head, I looked up at the redheaded woman I was clinging to. "No kidding."
Considering the way my voice was straining to reach a higher pitch, I was sure her smile was pitying. Honestly, I was okay with that. The storm was really shaking me up. I knew I was a good swimmer, but the waves with their push and pull would tire me out too quickly. I wouldn't make it to the surface every time.
A whine broke me out of my thoughts. Apparently, I wasn't the only one having a hard time in the storm. All of the Hawkes were clustered together, though still next to us. Both Hawke and Carver held Calenhad, to keep the hound calm.
Carver himself was looking green, though Mama Hawke was rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him. Bethany kept watch over everyone, even glancing at Aveline and I.
"So, you haven't traveled much by sea, either?" Aveline continued to rub my shoulder as she asked questions.
"N-no. Just over land." I didn't mention flying, for obvious reasons. "But, I mean, I've been in boats just, smaller. And not on the actual ocean."
"Ah, it's the same for me. Have you been on Lake Calenhad then?" The dog perked up at the mention of his name, but went back to shaking at a clap of thunder.
"Er, not much," I whispered, "I've been to a smaller water reservoir a few times. My cousins have a spot they keep there."
"Really?" She looked interested now, not just trying to distract me. "What is it called?"
"I'm not sure?" I compulsively grabbed her tighter at the next wave. This was the worst. There were just too many secrets to keep.
The storm didn't let up until nightfall, where we were able to catch a few hours of sleep. Come morning, I was stretching my legs on deck, knowing I only had a limited time, but glad to see the sky. Well, until I noticed the tense atmosphere between the sailors. I looked up. An amaranth red sun just crested the horizon, but I could see clouds covering much of the sky. Leftovers from the storm? Or... The captain himself came around, making sure he had my attention, as well as that of a few other people on deck.
"Finish up and get below stern," he commanded, "This storm ain't done with us yet."
As I made my way back, I heard several sailors discussing all the bad luck we, the refugees, were causing. Did they really think the presence of female humans would sway the weather? I rolled my eyes.
Down in the hold, everyone whispered nervously to each other. I found my position next to Aveline again.
"Storm is starting back up soon."
She frowned. "This is odd. It isn't the season for this kind of weather. That time should have passed already. Not to mention we've only just made it to the Storm Coast. It's odd to have so much on the fringes."
"Is it?" I questioned, listening intently.
"Hm, yes. I'm no expert, but I've heard enough talk in that area to know the patterns. It usually starts just before August and continues until Firstfall."
Well now, I recognized August, but what was that other phrase? First fall? Like, the when the leaves first started coming off the trees? Something to find out. ...Somehow. Eventually.
"So, this isn't the right time?"
"It's already the new year, so they should have stopped or slowed down long ago." She sighed. "I hope Denerim is alright."
"Ah. Me too."
It was the new year? What day was it? Back on Earth it was March, so why was the timing so different here?
Aveline turned to me, her face lighting up. "That's right, you have family in Denerim, don't you?"
Were the Hawkes lying for me? My thumbs wove circles around each other as I watched. "Erm, yeah. My, my roommate." I didn't look up at her until she put a hand on my shoulder.
"Not to worry," she assured me, "You know better than I how strong the people of that city are. Even with the... political issues they have to deal with, the nobility wouldn't let anything befall the capital."
I tried to smile at her. Might as well, since she was trying to make me feel better.
"Yeah. Thanks, Aveline."
"Don't mention it."
I fidgeted. "What about you? I mean, do you have family-? You don't have to answer if like- don't worry about it." I finished with a flush crawling up my neck onto my face.
I saw some pain in her eyes, but she still managed a genuine smile. "Don't apologize for being curious. It isn't a bother." She stopped and looked off to the side for a moment. "I can't recall any more family I might have. My parents have both passed on, and I didn't have any siblings. If my father had more family, he never mentioned them." She shrugged. "Wesley was the only family I had left."
I felt my eyes moisten. Her voice was low, and she continued to look away. I built up the courage, somehow managing to speak past the constriction in my chest.
"You know," I started, clearing my throat, "I'm- uh, the Hawkes seem to have, taken us in? Per say?" I fidgeted and my voice became more hesitant as I went on. C'mon Sabrina, show some courage! "So uh, I guess you're not without a family anymore!" I finished, too chipper.
Her eyes widened, honing in on mine before she closed them, a smile on her face again. "I... suppose you're right. Thank you, Sabrina."
"No problem," I whispered.
After a couple minutes of silence and watching my feet wobble back and forth, I spoke again. "I have something to tell you."
"What is it?" She turned from watching a nearby family to see me.
I opened my mouth, but only managed to let out a small, high pitched noise. I tried again and managed, "I'm not from Denerim." I had to look back at my feet to continue. "I told Marian and Carver, or, I mean, Marian knew because she and Ma- Leandra heard me in, uh, Gwaren-" I stopped rambling when my stomach gave a lurch as big as the next wave that hit the ship.
"You... aren't from Denerim?" The words sounded accusatory in my ears. "Why would you say that then?"
I shuffled, her presence feeling suffocating, like there was a weight in my chest. "I don't know..." Her silence was the only answer I got, and I knew I couldn't leave things that way.
"I'm sorry." It didn't seem adequate. "I was traveling when, I don't know what happened, but I ended up lost, and somehow in Ferelden, which I wasn't before." I took a deep breath to keep from rambling again. She didn't need excuses either.
I finally managed to lift my eyes to look at her mouth, at least. She held it flat.
"I didn't know, what you would think of me, all of you. But I... should have just told you. I'm sorry. I know it's not, a good excuse." I swallowed.
"Thank you." I looked up to see her eyes, softer than I expected. "I appreciate your honesty."
I just smiled and nodded.
"So, where are you from?"
I laughed nervously. "You know, Hawke offered to buy me a map so I can figure out how to get back."
"Did she?" A grin tugged at her lips as she played along.
"Hm. Hasn't said how big it will be though." A particularly large wave sent me crashing into her, and I grabbed at her arm again. She chuckled.
"Seems the Captain was right." Her lips parted, but she paused, her gaze moving as though she was recalling a memory. "You... didn't come through the Fade, did you?"
My breathing hitched. "The Fade? Why...?"
"It may be nothing, but the very day of Ostagar's fall, there was a rumor running rampant around the camp." Her mouth pulled down as she considered me. "Supposedly, thanks to the Circle mages, some sort of demon had come through the Fade. Now, I don't believe most of the gossip that was going around about it, however..."
"I'm not a demon!" I insisted, my wide eyes staring directly into hers.
"I wasn't suggesting that. I'm sorry if that's how it came out. Considering the circumstances though, you aren't from Ferelden, you were 'traveling' before somehow 'ending up' here, your abilities that just now manifested, and there are some other things that don't add up." She paused while a wave hit the ship. I was glad she wasn't moving away from me, but I was also terrified where this was going.
Eventually Aveline continued, "Did you come from the Fade?"
I opened my mouth to rebuke her, but only found small sounds of protest. What if I had come through the Fade? How did the magical realm even work? If I didn't know how I got here, then betting on a malleable, mythic dimension was the most logical option.
Still, since I couldn't find any evidence, I said, "I don't know."
Her eyes hardened. "We will continue this discussion later. But... if Hawke trusts you, and you aren't lying, I see no reason why you can't keep that information to yourself, for now."
I nodded meekly.
The storm came back around lunch time, battering the ship with more rain, winds howling across the hatches. Unfortunately, this time, it did not let up with the setting sun. The rains continued long into the night and through to the next day. Everyone slept fitfully, and the others we were traveling with began wondering if we would still make it to our destination.
The ship itself had to be bailed of water a few times, a task the passengers helped with, while the sailors kept the craft on course, navigating the rough winds and waves.
We all began taking shifts for sleeping; our days filled with worry. One thing which never changed was Bethany's determination to teach me. Despite the storm, the mage was determined to get my 'aura,' as she called it, suitably calm and collected. I protested the storm would interfere with training, but she insisted that harsh situations were important to recognize.
"It won't always be calm around you," she explained, "Sometimes you'll be in stressful positions like this, or even in battles, like the ones we had with the darkspawn." She lowered her voice to continue.
"Those are times where keeping your... abilities," she whispered, "In check is even more important. So," she continued at normal volume, "You will still hear the rain, and feel the thunder rumble, but focus on your breathing. Understand and accept the way that nature is around you."
And so it went. Fortunately, with the storms going on and off for days, I did get much better at meditating. The loud noises and shifting motions became normal for me, or at least I was able to experience each situation without feeling too strongly about it.
There were a couple close calls though. During a particularly vicious thunderstorm, with the highest waves we'd seen yet, I lost control. Frightened sounds filled the hold, from within our party and other refugees. A couple of the children who had managed to come aboard were crying.
Rumbling cracks of thunder which shook the whole ship were always accompanied by lightning, and I was worried a bolt might hit the ship as we crested a wave. Water poured in through the hatch from the deck, keeping everyone perpetually wet.
The clamour from above was hard to hear over the howling of the wind, but it sounded like anxious yelling punctuated with colorful curses.
When one clap of thunder scared a child to the point of screaming, I felt my own heart jump; A rush of energy poured through my limbs and left them feeling tingly.
"Ow!" I heard Aveline exclaim next to me.
She jerked her arm out of my grip.
I turned to see her rubbing the area I had been holding, the shirt and bicep looking, burned? Oh my god, was that me? I sucked a breath in between my teeth, looking around to make sure everyone else was preoccupied with the storm.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered to her, still trying to be heard over the storm. "Was that me-? God, Aveline, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"
Our behavior must have caught our party's attention, Bethany looking at us from where she, her mother, and their dog huddled.
"Sabrina, what happened?"
Her question caught Marian's attention, and she looked over from where she was comforting Carver, to his mortification.
"It's, I think I hurt Aveline," I said, trying to stay discreet.
Bethany's eyes widened, and after extricating herself from her group, she carefully scooted over to us. "Show me," she demanded.
Aveline sent us a smile, "It looks worse than it feels."
Bethany scoffed. "Hold your arm out." She took a glimpse and scooted between the redhead warrior and the other people in the boat. "Sabrina, move here." She tapped the floor. "Face us and pay attention. I'm going to attempt to heal your arm," she started talking to Aveline, "Try not to move, I'll have to try to time this with the lightning..."
I watched as Bethany would wait for a long strike to light up the sky before bringing a glow to her hands. Each time she did, more of the burn would scab over and lighten.
I watched in fascination.
"Notice how I send the energy through my finger tips," Bethany murmured, "Since that's where the softest skin is besides the back of my hands. I also have better control when I make direct contact, or stay as close as possible. You'll have to be able to sense their energy and supplement it to promote healing..."
And so it went until Aveline's arm looked almost perfect.
"Give it time. It will be less sensitive tomorrow, but come to me if it isn't."
"Thank you," Aveline said, staring at her arm and brushing her other hand over the area, eyes flickering as if expecting it to reappear. "I hope I won't have to."
"I hope the same." Bethany turned to me. "If you want to keep holding on to her, sit on her other side."
My face heated up, a feat when covered in chilly sea water. I managed a squeak of assurance, so Bethany moved back to her mother and family hound.
I was ready to sit all on my own, but a rough list to the side and Aveline's kind smile had me scurrying around, sitting and grabbing her other arm.
"Thanks," I said, voice husky, "And sorry."
She shook her head. "I've had worse. I'm surprised you've lasted so long without any other... slip ups."
I shrugged. "I don't know if I should have had more. Are they common?"
"The way the chantry talks about it, you would think the new mages walk around with their knickers on fire."
I laughed roughly. A presence settled on my other side, and I turned to see Bethany settling next to me. She flashed me a smile.
"I'm here to make sure you put those meditation exercises to good use."
Mama Hawke and Calenhad settled in near her, creating a semicircle. The older woman smiled as well. "We're here for moral support."
The big hound whimpered at the next stroke of lightning, shivering and huddling down on the floor, ears back on his skull.
"The big guy can take down a darkspawn, but the sky makes a loud sound and he's all chicken." I turned to see Marian manhandle her brother onto Aveline's other side, completing our lopsided circle.
Bethany giggled. "Are you talking about Carver or Calenhad?"
Another laugh slipped from me, arms shaking from my hold as Carver's scathing reply was lost to the wind.
We stopped near Amaranthine's port city for supplies after a particularly vicious thunderstorm before heading off on our final stretch to Kirkwall. During this time we got clear skies for a couple days straight, a practical miracle after all the storms.
Everyone had been worried, especially after hearing tales in every port we had stopped at; many ships had taken off and not come back. Aveline and Marian heard the gossip first, since the clear weather meant the captain felt confident in putting them to work. Apparently, Ferelden locals were feeling particularly superstitious after the death of their king, many wondering if the storms were an omen of bad luck, or the Maker not approving of the newly appointed Regent Loghain in control of the country.
Regardless, the sun put me in a much better mood than I'd had previously. I wandered on the upper deck, humming to myself as I took in the sea. I smiled as I noticed Mama Hawke walking up to me.
"What were you singing just now?" she asked.
"Ah, just an old song from a... story I know."
"A story with songs?"
I nodded and rubbed at my neck. "A few, but I don't remember all of them."
"Still, that's wonderful," she enthused, "You don't hear many of those in Loth- out in the countryside. Would you sing it for me, dear?"
I hesitated, but she looked so excited, and I really was in the mood to sing. Ignoring the heat in my face, I looked towards the ocean spray. I decided to just start where I had left off.
"Hush now, my baby; Be still love, don't cry. Sleep as you're rocked by the stream..." The mournful melody fell from my lips. I had always loved this tune. It was full of such heartbreak and longing, two things I'd become intimately familiar with in the almost two weeks since I'd fallen here. It also brought up strong memories of watching the Prince of Egypt with my family. I skipped over the instrumental part of the song to finish up with the sister's verse.
When I finished I hesitantly glanced at Leandra out of the corner of my eye. The older woman had her hands together, eyes lit up.
"Oh, Sabrina, that was wonderful. I haven't heard that song before."
"Thanks," I said, cheeks still hot. "I like singing."
"I can tell. Are you training to be a bard? How long have you been doing it?"
I shook my head desperately. "No, no, nothing like that. I just have an appreciation for music. But for singing, I've been doing it since, well, I guess since I was a child. I would always sing along with the songs at mass-" I stopped abruptly. No, they have a different religion! Do they even call a meeting a mass?
Mama Hawke didn't look confused though. She simply nodded. "Yes, those hymns can be truly beautiful, can't they?"
"Yeah. Hey uh," I paused when I realized I didn't know what to call her. Never in my life had I ever called older people by their first names, but I plowed on.
"Mrs. Hawke, how is Carver doing?"
She blinked. "Oh, you're so sweet. Really, just Leandra is fine."
"Okay, uh yes, got it." Nope, too awkward. I wondered how long I could go without calling her by any name.
"Carver is doing well, thank you." She got a gleam in her eye. "Although, he was talking about you not a day ago."
"Oh. He was."
"Yes. Something about being impressed with your ability to ignore 'that damned thunder.'" She chuckled, and I did the same, finding her impression too odd.
"Well, that doesn't really sound like him at all. Er, sorry. He's just uh," I floundered for a word, "Stubborn?"
"He is that." I was relieved she didn't seem offended. The older woman must be used to her son's brash attitude. "I don't think he would ever tell you personally, so I thought I should. I also think you're doing well."
"Thanks, I guess. I've been working hard at it."
"I know, dear." She placed a gentle hand on my upper arm. "I'm glad my Bethany has been able to help you. And if I'm being honest, I think this has been good for her as well." When I tilted my head, she continued. "She learned from her father, my late husband, Malcolm. But she was the only... one in the family, once he passed." We both glanced around cautiously, but no one paid us any attention. Even the sailors seemed preoccupied with adjusting the sails.
"I think teaching you has been, exciting for her," Leandra continued, "She never had to opportunity to speak of her skills to another that might understand, much less to attempt to teach." She smiled. "I'm grateful she has such a fine student as you."
Ugh, these people made me more embarrassed than anyone in my life! My arm grew hot under her hand and I cast my eyes over the horizon. After a deep breath I was able to look at her face.
"Well, I guess I'm just glad to have her as my teacher. I- I don't know what I would have done without her."
Leandra squeezed my arm in understanding. In an attempt to dispel my awkward air, I asked, "Do you think the pigeon you sent will make it there before us?"
The letter she had sent with some of our extra money required a concise message on a small parchment. The small leather tube the bird had carried it in only allowed for the basic information.
"Certainly," the older woman said, "It should have arrived by now, barring any unforeseen trouble. Messenger pigeons usually travel over land, so I don't think it would have run into these storms."
"What about when it had to cross the sea?"
"Oh, the message would have been taken by ship then." I decided not to mention all the ships which had likely sunk during such a trip.
When one of the sailors told us to move, we headed back down to the cargo hold, letting a few others take our place on deck.
Everyone's spirits seemed to lift as we got closer to Kirkwall. The morning before we arrived, the sailors broke out into song, apparently confident that we were in the clear.
It became obvious to me sea shanties were catchy for good reason. I easily picked up on the chorus of their current tune and sang along as I peered at the upper deck from the grate near the mast.
"Whey, hey, and up she rises; Whey, hey, and up she rises; Whey, hey, and up she rises, early in the morning!"
Aveline shook her head at me, while the female Hawkes seemed to find my enthusiasm amusing. Carver looked like he wanted to sing along, but was holding back for some reason. Because of this, I decided to sing almost obnoxiously loud while staying as close to him as possible.
"Throw him in the long boat, 'til he's sober; throw him in the long boat, 'til he's sober-"
Either he'd notice my plan and try to physically stop me, or he'd lose that stick up his butt and sing along. I wasn't betting on the latter, but I couldn't help myself, his expression as he screwed his mouth shut to avoid singing was hilarious.
Come midday, the gates of Kirkwall appeared in the distance.
The atmosphere became simultaneously calmer and more tense. The families travelling with us were exhausted and ready to land. The sailors, however, muttered amongst each other, realizing something was wrong. As the gates loomed closer, we got a better look at 'The Twins,' two large, golden statues of men facing each other, leaning forward and hiding their faces in pain. Further in were several smaller versions, all facing towards the ship. The hold was unusually quiet as we sailed past them, even the sailors' jovial mood was gone, replaced with orders for bringing the ship in to dock. Odd birds cawed from the rock formations, looking like no gulls I had seen before, their thick beaks and black coloring reminding me more of a crow and puffin cross.
When the call came for everyone to come out on deck, we noticed the problem. Many ships were docked there, most of them teeming with refugees. The captain himself seemed to be in a heated debate with a member of the guard. I didn't catch much of it, but it seemed to be about whether or not we could dismount and come into the city. Aveline and the Hawkes caught on as well, and as none of the passengers seemed eager to stick around, we all disembarked.
"There are so many people," Bethany stated in awe.
"Are we really surprised? Everyone here was leaving Ferelden to flee the Blight," Carver stated.
As we made our way closer to the city, I caught the sour expression tugging at Aveline's face; Her eyes focused on the guards near the entrance to the city. Marian was eyeing the same large crowd the guards were keeping back. "Doesn't look like they're letting anyone in." She gestured towards it.
"What?" Leandra stopped to look at her oldest. "That can't be!"
"It's true," Aveline affirmed, "Look at them all."
"But where would they go?" Bethany asked, expression dropping, "They're Fereldens, just like us. I don't think anyone here can afford to go back."
I shook my head. "Who would want to? It's going to be overrun with darkspawn."
"And they would throw us all back to the wolves," Aveline said, crossing her arms, "Unbelievable."
"I'm only surprised they let us dock," Marian said. At a reproving look from her mother, she amended, "Well, so long as we're all safe, that's more important. Mother, you said we have an estate?"
"Yes," Leandra said, "We should try to contact my brother, Gamlen. Our family has always been highly regarded in Kirkwall. He'll be able to get us in, I'm sure of it."
Carver was the one to jump in then. "And how do we do that? Those guards won't let anyone near the gates to the city."
"Leave that to your big sis." Marian grinned. "Can't have my precious baby siblings sleep outside the city, now can I?" Carver scowled and slapped her hand when she reached to pinch his cheek. Marian just laughed and strolled towards the crowd, the rest of us biting back snickers as we followed.
"Mother did send a letter," Bethany tried to assure her twin, "Let's just hope he's received it."
One of the guards in the crowd had his helmet off, probably to help the growing mass of people hear him better. Aveline noticed the same.
"The guards seem to be reporting to that man. Perhaps we should speak to him."
Marian nodded in agreement and pushed her way through people to the front. The light haired guard noticed and turned to address our group.
"Get back to the crowd, you lot. Trying to bully your way through won't get you into Kirkwall any faster."
"But you do intend to let us in?" Aveline questioned.
The man gave a humorless laugh. "We have enough poor of our own in the Free Marches! We don't need you refugees piling up here like a middens heap."
I was temporarily distracted by the thought of what a middens heap was. I considered questioning Bethany, but Hawke took up the reigns of the conversation.
"Is that why we aren't being allowed into the city? Because we're refugees?"
The man's forehead wrinkled as his brows drew down. "What, like any of you lot have something to bring to the city? If it were up to me," he ground out, "I'd close the gates and let you all find somewhere else to beg."
I noticed both Bethany and Carver tense at this, looking ready to interrupt him. However, the guard took a breath before speaking again.
"But, it's not. Some of you might have legitimate business in the city. So, Knight-Commander Meredith wants us to sort you all out." He made a sweeping motion at the undulating mass of distraught people. "Most of you are getting right back on your ships, though."
"Knight-Commander?" Hawke questioned. "That's a templar title. Why would a city guardsmen answer to the templars?"
"We don't answer to her, but she's the power in Kirkwall."
Bethany was clenching her hands, so I shifted my weight and gently bumped our hips together. When I got her attention I smiled, hoping to lessen her fear. No need to worry about Meredith... yet.
"There must be someone in charge that I could speak with," Hawke insisted, "We have family here."
The guard heaved a sigh. "Yes, yes, always the same story. Look, I'm just here to keep you refuse from climbing the walls." He turned to gesture behind himself. "If you want to speak to someone about getting in, talk to Captain Ewald. I don't expect there's much he can do for you though."
"Well, if he's half as helpful as you are, I suspect we could get assistance in just under an age." I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. The guard narrowed his eyes.
"Just go. Don't make me regret this."
With one issue settled, we slowly made our way through the maze of corridors which would take us to the main city gates. The halls were incredibly packed; We had to navigate through temporary shelters, sleeping bodies, and piles of personal belongings. All around were despondent faces, and I wondered how long they had been waiting outside the city. I hoped Gamlen was swift, otherwise we'd have to sleep out here too, and the stone didn't look inviting.
After managing to find a dead end, we asked directions from a nearby guard. He told us how to reach Captain Ewald before warning us against making trouble.
"We've already got problems with another group of you Ferelden deserters," he said, eyeing our warriors, "So don't think you can stir up trouble. There's no place to hold you here, so you either keep quiet, or you're going straight back out to sea. Without a boat."
Hawke paused before asking another question. "I heard someone call this fortress 'The Gallows.' Is it a prison?"
"Used to be, back in the Tevinter Imperium," the guard said, "That was before the slave rebellion. Now the Templars use it to lock up the mages." He scoffed. "I guess not much has changed."
With that bit of paranoia now settled in our minds, we thanked him-reluctantly-and walked away.
I heaved a deep sigh. "Templars are so fun," I muttered with no enthusiasm.
I sensed eyes on me, so I turned and met Bethany's gaze. The younger woman looked contemplative, so I set a hand on her shoulder. The corners of her mouth twitched up before she turned to Aveline.
"Aveline," she started, making sure to have the warrior's attention, "Was Wesley based out of the Lothering chantry? I don't remember seeing him there."
There was a flash of pain in her eyes, but she answered. "He served elsewhere. He was coming to find me at Ostagar."
Bethany nodded. I remembered that little detail too. Aveline seemed to think of something, her brows drawing together.
"Were you familiar with every templar in Lothering?"
Bethany glanced around before lowering her voice. "How else was I supposed to know when to run and hide?"
I saw her family tense at those words, but no one commented.
A few turns later, we saw the actual city gates come into sight. A large staircase and decorative railings like spears led up to it, and statues lined the courtyard.
A man in decorated armor stood near the stairs, warding off questions from a small group of warriors. I recognized him as Captain Ewald, the man we were looking for.
"Let us through you flaming blighter! We're not staying in this pit!" The leader of the warrior band thrust his finger forward at the Guard Captain, causing his eyebrows to lower.
"Then I suggest you get back on your ship and leave," he responded, voice rumbling, "Kirkwall has no more room for refugees."
"The ship is already gone!" another man with stringy hair insisted, "We paid good coin to get here."
"You and half of Ferelden," Captain Ewald said, now emphasizing the dilemma, "There's nothing I can do. The city is full!"
Hawke walked straight up to the Captain and spoke before we could even introduce ourselves.
"You wouldn't be out here if nobody could enter."
"That's right!" The leader of the warriors looked pleased to have someone on his side. "We've seen you let lots of people through."
"Citizens and merchants that make it worth our while," the captain explained slowly. He turned to Hawke next. "I assume that you don't have anymore coin than these gentlemen?"
"Not exactly," Hawke started, "But-"
"We've been letting you Fereldens in for months. You're too late. There's no more room!"
"But we've got family here," Carver said.
"I've heard claims like that too many times to count. Trust me." The Guard Captain sighed. "We'll find some ships to take you all back to Ferelden-eventually. Until then, you stay here."
"Our Uncle is Gamlen Amell," Hawke said, "He knows we're coming. If you find him, then you might just have a few less refugees bothering you."
"Gamlen," Captain Ewald said, sounding surprised, "I know that name..."
"He's a nobleman, here in the city," Carver jumped in.
Bethany nodded. "Our family has an estate."
"A nobleman?" The captain shook his head. "The only Gamlen I know is a weasel, who couldn't rub two coppers together."
"That can't be right..." I heard Mama Hawke whisper under her breath.
"If he comes back, I'll bring you to him. But I don't have time to-"
"What?" The lead warrior, left forgotten to the side spoke up indignantly, "You gonna let them through?"
"Now I didn't say anything about-"
"We've been here for five days!" One of the other warriors lamented, "They just got here!"
"That's it!" their leader declared, reaching for his sword, "We're carving our way out of here. Men!"
My eyes blew wide open as everyone drew weapons. Oh shit. I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me backwards. I stumbled along, already feeling as though there was not enough air in my lungs. I looked away from the battle to see who had me and saw Carver leading his mother and myself away.
We stopped further away, near what I recognized as and I watched as our companions battled alongside several guards to take out the rouge warriors. Hm, now that I thought about it, they were probably mercenaries.
I watched as several archers appeared from outside the courtyard. I almost shouted a warning, but the guards in the area beat me to it. Nearly everyone with shields, Aveline included, moved to take on the archers. This left the group of enemy warriors at a slight advantage, though Hawke made sure they wouldn't have it for long.
She was attempting to take on two at once, mostly on the defensive as the mercenaries shoved her swings away with their shields.
Bethany was on the edge of the main battle, dancing around and hitting enemy weak points with the end of her staff, though she was obviously limited without being able to use magic. Calenhad was busy scaring the shit out of the leader, growling and lunging while the man backed away, only trying to swing every so often. The Guard Captain took on another warrior with a mace, giving the deserter a hard time with some skillful swordplay.
Leandra made a soft sound and I looked over to see her with her hands near her mouth. She was obviously worried about her children. On my other side, Carver was tense, eyes narrowed but flicking back and forth as he watched all side of the fight. His grip tightened, and I flinched, realizing he was still holding my arm.
"Ouch, Carver..." He looked to me and let go.
"Sorry." He looked back at the battle, breathing noticeably heavier.
With most of the archers dead, Aveline made her way closer to Hawke, putting one of the rogues on the defensive as she pushed him back and slashed at his midsection.
I hesitated. Carver was Hawke's younger brother, right? I wondered about my own. What if I was the one in danger? Carver must be worried about his older sibling. Actually, why wasn't he fighting?
I nearly thunked my own head as I remembered. Of course. No one picked up his sword from the darkspawn battle. We were all too worried about survival, his and our own. We just ran as soon as we knew he'd live. I hadn't thought about his missing weapon all this time.
I sighed. He didn't seem like the kind of person who needed comfort, but... I reached out my own hand to brush against his fist. His eyes flashed to me and he pulled away. So did I. I couldn't summon a smile, but I looked directly at him.
"It's just as few warriors. I mean, I think they'll be okay."
"That isn't-" He huffed, crossing his arms. "I should be out there."
I just nodded at him. "I- I know. I know you would be, if you could." I saw his defenses rising even before I finished, so I hastened to continue. "I mean, we can get you a new weapon, and then, I know you want to fight, to help, and I'm sure you can, I mean, I've seen it, you and Hawke..." I sputtered and trailed off. He wasn't even looking at me anymore.
The battle ended soon after, and we slowly made our way back to the group of our comrades, the guards moving to clean up the bodies.
The Captain gave his men a few quick orders as he approached us. "Unbelievable," he finished, shaking his head, "Thank you for your help." Marian Hawke shrugged.
"Well, it was the most exciting thing that's happened since the storm nearly killed us. Couldn't pass up the opportunity."
"Not the time sister," Carver chided, standing beside her.
She likely would have responded had we not heard a heaving sound come from behind us. We all turned to see the guard from the docks running up to us, panting. "Captain!"
"You're too late," the captain admonished.
Gulping in air, the guard asked, "Are you alright?"
"I am, no thanks to you. Where is everyone?" demanded Captain Ewald, "Go get them. I want this kept under control!"
As his subordinate sprinted away, his posture softened. "Look, I can't get you into the city," he said, eyes on Hawke, "It's not my decision. But. I'll find your Uncle, and bring him here."
The Guard Captain then turned and walked away, shouting orders at the guards who had just appeared from beyond the courtyard.
"That went well," Aveline muttered.
"Gamlen will come for us. It shouldn't be too long." Mama Hawke's overly hopeful voice put pressure in my skull. I rubbed at the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger to try and dispel it.
Wait, it wasn't that kind of pressure. My whole body was shaking now as I held back what was sure to be a meltdown. I closed my eyes even as I looked away from the band of warriors... the people, covered in blood, some even still spilling it.
I jerked as I felt bile in my mouth, but managed to swallow it back down. Hot tears stung my eyes before spilling, carving biting paths down my cheeks in the cold ocean breeze.
"Oh, Sabrina..." I heard. Arms wrapped themselves around me, and I turned into the embrace, recognizing the vague scent of earthen rocks and rain. Mama Hawke then. God, she smelled so similar to my oldest Aunt. I wondered if the Hawke family home had been like my cousins'.
I continued to conjure up images of my family in an attempt to reassure myself and block the images of those men falling.
"Well, until then, I guess we should set up somewhere." Marian sounded awkward, like she wasn't sure how to help. I quited my sobs and pulled away, wiping at my face while taking deep breaths. I nodded to Mama Hawke to let her know I was okay.
Our little group began moving again, following Marian and Aveline as they cast about in search of a good spot. Mama Hawke kept throwing me worried looks, but I smiled to assure her, and gradually slowed down to the back of the group. I desperately cast my mind to other things. I couldn't remember how long it took the old man, their uncle, to find us. Maybe it was only a couple hours.
I tried to remember what happened during that conversation, and did manage to think of several lines of dialogue shared between the old Amell siblings. Most of them were just a revealing Gamlen was now dirt poor, and also an asshole. I got the feeling the latter personality trait wasn't a recent development.
Though I tried hard, I couldn't seem to recall much more of what would happen before that point. I was shaken out of my fruitless endeavor when there was a small cough to my right. I noticed Carver was lagging behind, with me.
"Aren't you usually, up there?" I gestured towards the front of the pack, where his older sister was. He was competitive, even when it came to where he walked. He only ever took rear guard when instructed to, in order to protect us.
Again I noticed his heavy breathing, which turned into several wet coughs. He held up a hand to stop me when I tried to approach, and soon enough, the coughs subsided. He fixed me with a firm stare.
"You can't freeze up like that when a fight starts."
"Huh?"
"I'll be battling again soon, so don't think you can expect someone to get you out of danger all the time."
Was he admonishing me? I felt my muscles tense, and my stomach gave a sharp jerk. I was grateful to him for protecting me, and I knew he was technically right... Didn't mean he had to be such an ass about it.
"Sorry." I sighed, looking at the ground.
He didn't say anything more, and soon our group decided on an area just outside the main courtyard. There were few families there, so we would be relatively undisturbed. Most of the guards in the area already knew about what we had done, so we didn't receive much bother from them.
Once we settled in, Bethany once again had me meditate, keeping her voice down and not relating anything to magic, just in case. Afterwards was different though. She realized the trouble I had barely gotten out of, thanks to Carver, and since we weren't on the run and always sore, she started showing me some simple self-defense moves.
I paid close attention and tried to remember all the tricks for getting out of different grips, and what places were best to incapacitate an attacker. She seemed pleased I was already aware of some of the techniques. I told her my parents had encouraged it, for emergencies.
"Still, the best thing to remember, if you don't have a good way to defend yourself, is to run away." Bethany pinned me with flinty blue eyes. "These exercises are only to prepare you if you have no other choice for your safety."
Since I had no problem with it, I eagerly bobbed my head. Pride wouldn't get in the way of my life, no sir.
We settled in when it became apparent Gamlen wouldn't be coming to see us that day. Our rations were low, but we had enough for the night.
I was both thankful and hateful of the braziers which burned nearby. They did help keep the area slightly warmer, but the light was there every time I shut my eyes. As I finally drifted off, all I could think was how I was right about the ground being too hard.
The next day had me waking up nearly as sore as I was my first night here. Flagstones were not meant for comfort, ow. I stretched out my body, hoping to ease the pain. Light cast over the walls we were in, though the sky still had traces of purples and pinks. I was almost getting used to waking up early.
During my stretch, I looked myself over. The robes were in acceptable condition, considering how stiff they now felt, but lifting the hem revealed that my jeans had not fared so well. They were a longer pair, with flared legs, so they had dragged along the ground during our journey here. Dirt and salt caked the bottoms, the fabric ripped and falling apart, especially nearest my heels.
My athletic shoes weren't faring much better. They had gotten soaked a few times on the ship, and though I had taken them off to dry-each time, reluctantly-the fabric was still crusty, and the soles had plenty of grime caked into the cracks. The bright teal accents were already fading. I sighed. They were a new pair, too.
Then, of course, there was the smell. I sniffed at my hand. Gross, I ate with this thing? No wonder the guards kept wrinkling their noses around here, all the refugees stank to high heaven, including us. Not to mention the blood our party had to clean off with already dirty rags.
I looked up to see Calenhad watching me, head tilted to the side.
"What?" I asked, "You can say you haven't noticed the smell."
He walked up and sniffed at me before backing up, coughing. Well, I knew I asked for that, but even still, I felt my mouth press into a flat line, eyes half-lidded as I glared.
"Thanks. You know, if there was a place to bathe, I would."
The mabari hound barked excitedly before taking off to Marian. Shaking my head, I slowly stood up. Cracks echoed from several joints and I groaned as I stretched them out.
"Getting old, are we?" Marian now stood before me, looking rumpled with her armor off. "That sort of thing can just sneak up on you, if you're not careful."
I sighed, trying to smile back. She coughed awkwardly, running a hand through her short hair.
"So, this loveable rascal," she gestured to Calenhad, "Has told me you require something."
The hound barked, tongue lolling out of his grin as he looked awfully pleased with himself.
"Did he?" My smile grew naturally as I looked at him. "Hmm. Well, I did mention wanting a-" I paused and chuckled, a nervous twitter. "A uh, a bath..."
"Hm, we never did get Carver to stop stinking of fish, did we?" That forced a genuine laugh out of me. "Well, let's see what we can do about that. I can't imagine a lack of water so close to the port."
"I can," I said dryly.
Marian shook her head and walked over to grab a sulking Carver.
"Hey!" he protested, stumbling away from the wall.
"C'mon, brother. Let's find some proper facilities for the women you love so much."
He tugged at the arm wrapped around his neck. "What are you talking about?"
"Surely you don't intend for mother to walk around without a proper place to clean?" Marian said, giving him one tight squeeze before letting go.
Carver quickly stood to his full height, slightly taller than his sister. "Clean?"
"Yes, brother. That thing people do when they don't want to look like they rolled through the horses' grazing pasture."
I saw Calenhad tilt his head in confusion. Hm, he probably thought that was a great way to pass the time. I made a mental note to check him for the smell of feces before giving him hugs.
Carver's scowl grew more pronounced, "I know what cleaning is! But where do you expect us to look?"
"That's where you come in, little brother." Carver practically growled. Whether at his sister's chipper tone or her nicknames, I wasn't sure.
"You, I, and Sabrina here," she slapped a hand on my back, making me wince, "Are all going to check around this area of our lovely prison. If we split up, we'll be able to search faster."
I saw resignation in the young man's gaze. "What, exactly, are we looking for? Not the sea water at the docks, I'd assume."
"You'd assume correctly! Honestly, I don't know what we'll find, if anything." She sighed, a bitter smile on her face. "Of course, unless the guards suddenly become friendlier to 'refuse,' I don't think asking them will be much help."
The atmosphere was so awkward, I cleared my throat. "So, I guess I can uh, check this way?" I pointed at some random hall that branched off the courtyard where we were camped.
"Take Calenhad with you," Carver insisted.
The dog barked, his butt shaking back and forth as he attempted to wag his stub of a tail.
"Okay." A thought occurred to me, and a smile spread over my face as I turned to face the young man. "Are you sure you want me spending more time with him? I'm not going to stop sweet talking him."
"Ugh. It's for safety." His nose wrinkled as he watched the hound push his head at me, asking for scratches. For some reason, Carver had been adamant that I not speak to his family hound like a child. His opinion wasn't enough to stop me though, it's just how I was with animals.
"Oh, and here I thought you were thinking of his smell. I could wash him!"
"...I suppose? There's no point though."
Even Marian shook her head. "There's really no point. We've tried. He'll just get dirty again. Immediately." Calenhad barked in affirmation.
I laughed and-after subtly leaning in to check his scent-gave in to the dog's demands, petting his neck. "You sure? He might come back smelling like one of those show dogs from Orlais."
I watched the blood drain from Carver's face. "Please don't."
I couldn't help laughing as I walked away, patting my leg. That had been a shot in the dark. Amusement filled my tone at the idea Orlais might have poodles. "C'mon boy. Let's go find some nice soaps."
Calenhad whined, but trotted alongside me, and I heard Carver groan behind us.
Unfortunately, nobody's search had been particularly fruitful. The best we could come up with was a water pump, which people working in the area would use. We could use it to fill a bucket, but there was absolutely no privacy to be found, so the idea of 'sponging off' died pretty quickly. We did try to clean our exposed skin though, so at least my hands and face didn't feel like bacteria breeding grounds... much.
It was close to lunchtime that we came across out next problem. We were officially out of food. Voyaging across the sea had taken most of our supply, though we had been lucky enough that the Captain had included a small amount in his fair. There was something particularly awful about hardtack and fish, especially in the morning. But that's all that had been available to us.
"I suppose we're not capable of going fishing." I sighed.
"Not really," Bethany replied, "And none of us has the skill for it anyway."
"Fishing in the sea is a lot different to catching something in a river," Carver affirmed.
"You used to fish?" I asked, voice higher in my surprise.
"What? Of course. We weren't always able to catch rabbits and things, you know. And you can't just slaughter your livestock every time you get hungry."
"Makes sense..." I murmured, "I guess I just never imagined you fishing. It's, quiet, right?"
Marian laughed. "It does seem too lazy for you, doesn't it brother?"
"Look, are we going to solve this problem or what?"
Mama Hawke mentioned seeing a merchant's stall tucked away in a corner of the courtyard, so most of our group followed her to the location, Bethany and Calenhad staying behind to make sure no one took our chosen 'camp'.
Upon arriving, we were treated to a scene that made me cringe in sympathy.
A young woman, wearing what were practically rags they were so tattered, was pleading with a well-dressed man behind the table. He swiped his hand over his shaven head, looking disinterested.
"But that was all we had left, everything we have. It's all we brought with us!" the woman cried.
"And I feel for you, serah," he said disingenuously, turning his back. "But that's the best I can do."
"If they would let us into the city, I could get three times that price," the woman said, voice hard, "That was a family heirloom-!"
"Myron."
She looked about ready to argue more, but when one of the merchant's guards stepped forward, hand on his weapon hilt, her shoulders slumped, and she scurried away.
The merchant finally turned around, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched her leave. When Marian stepped forward he said, "Now then, I'm Cavril, the owner of this store, what can I do for you, serah?"
"She didn't seem very happy with that deal you made," Hawke said, gesturing towards where the previous shopper had disappeared, "Surely that trinket was worth more than what you paid her."
"What am I supposed to do? If I had to buy every piece of furniture and bit of scrap that some poor sod declares as a 'precious family treasure' then I'd be out of business. And who would sell to these miserable refugees then?"
"You mean people like us?" Carver said, stepping forward.
At Hawke's raised eyebrow and a once over of our clothing, Cavril quickly backtracked. "Of course, not that there's anything wrong with Fereldens, mind you. It's just that I'm running a business, not a charitable order. I'm sorry."
"I'm sure you're terribly broken up about it," Aveline said, voice flat.
"So, what can I do for you?" he asked, studiously ignoring the redhead.
Hawke asked, "If you're having such trouble making a profit, why are you here in the fortress? I wouldn't expect many stores in this place."
"There are a multitude of merchants who come here to do business now, who can't afford the bribes to enter the city." He nodded with a self-important look in his eyes. "So, the Templars decided they needed someone who could set up shop, temporarily, and trade to get supplies in and out of the city. I am the lucky man."
"You mean you paid your own bribes to be here," Aveline pointed out.
His smile wavered. "If they allowed everyone to set up shop, this place would become a bazaar. Now, is there anything I can do for you, serah?"
Not wanting to test the patience of the only man with supplies, Marian began bartering with the shopkeeper for food. We had some money to bargain with, thanks to the sovereigns we had leftover from the generous donation in Gwaren. We couldn't show more than one sovereign if we wanted to avoid getting mugged, but that amount was sufficient to get us food for three days and still have silvers left over.
Mama Hawke was of the mind we wouldn't need nearly so much, since Gamlen would surely come for us that day, but our warriors were adamant on "just in case."
Personally, I was of the mind we steal the profits Cavril-the-asshole had made right from under his nose. At least, I was until I realized no one in our party had the ability to pick locks. Dammit, where was a rogue when you needed one?
We returned to our camp and ate a lunch of dried fish and cheese, and I found myself longing for anything to wash it down. I suggested going to get water to drink from the pump, but everyone looked at me like I was crazy.
"We don't know where that comes from," Mama Hawke explained, "It may not be safe for drinking."
"You want to catch nervous fever?" Carver asked, arms folded across his chest.
I paled, shaking my head. "No, no. But, what else can we drink? We can't go without water forever. And I don't think that merchant would have anything... Not that I'd want to go back to him anyway," I finished bitterly. Everyone traded glances.
"Agreed," Aveline said. "I'll see what Captain Ewald has to say about this. You can ask some of the other refugees, see if any of them have found something, since some have been around longer."
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, not clearing it, but managing a weak, "Okay." Not that I planned on going to talk to anyone. Speaking to strangers was too nerve wracking.
Lucky for me, Bethany noticed my predicament and offered to come with me. I nodded gratefully.
We didn't find much, but I paid close attention to how Bethany dealt with the other refugees, noticing how sometimes she had to stop herself from reaching for their injuries.
I hadn't ever practiced my magic-honestly I started to doubt I had it again-but I could imagine how difficult it must feel for her, able to help, yet not, because people would reject the methods she used.
I sighed, and promised to myself I would pay even closer attention to her during my training. It was the least I owed her.
On the third day after landing at Kirkwall, Carver stepped into my physical training.
"Considering her fighting style," he'd said, "Bethany isn't really the best to teach you about physical combat."
"That would be me," Hawke joked from her nearby perch. Carver just scowled deeply and focused on me.
It was one of the few times I wished Marian wouldn't joke so much with her brother. He was a thorough teacher, but his methods were rough and very learn-as-you-go, something I struggled with. His frustration made his methods harder to deal with.
The only benefit was he allowed, and encouraged me, to retaliate against him with real force. When I asked, he assured me I couldn't hurt him too badly, since I wasn't aiming for kills. When I still hesitated, he got more aggressive, until I finally felt the need to start hitting him.
During one of his 'try-to-escape-the-armlock' routines, I finally noticed his hand waver, like he thought of removing it. I twisted the best I could with my shoulder in a difficult position and punched him with my free hand. While I did expect Carver to stumble back, considering I hit his solar plexus, I had not expected him to open his mouth in a silent gasp, eyes wide, arms dropping me to clutch his chest. Ragged, wet coughing followed, sounding like my younger Aunt when she had full-blown bronchitis.
I reached out a shaking hand, but didn't touch him. "Are you okay?" My voice pitched so high, I wondered if he understood. Carver tried to glare at me, but his round of coughs and squinting eyes made it look like he was about to cry.
Bethany was the first one at his side, checking him over, while Marian quickly followed, serious-faced as she talked him through his breaths. I still dithered, watching the scene, but not participating. Surely, he wasn't dying... right? Would the universe really try to 'correct' the change I had made? My head was playing the image of him on the ground after the ogre, dying beneath me, over and over.
When Mama Hawke showed up from her daily search for her brother, Aveline at her side, I apologized profusely to the Hawke siblings before walking with urgency to the older woman. Her eyes were shimmering, but I saw no surprise on her face. Instead of explaining what was going on, I began apologizing to her as well. Training with me had brought on his current attack, after all.
Mama Hawke shook her head. "He's a stubborn boy. The only reason he didn't jump into your training sooner was at my request."
"So this is... normal?" I inquired. Aveline was still standing near, listening.
"Oh, no. We think it was," Mama Hawke paused, looked deeply into my eyes, and continued, "We think it was a consequence of his injury from the ogre. Bethany believes the damage caused internal scars."
What was with that look? No way. She couldn't blame me, right? I saved her son's life, and she wasn't spiteful. Probably. I was fretting now, biting at my chapped lip. Apologizing might help with feelings, but it wouldn't fix Carver's health. Still, I must have been transparent, because the old woman placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You're the reason he lives." Aveline was nodding beside her.
"He took a hard hit. It's only natural that there would be some lasting consequences."
I was thankful when Aveline officially called an end to the training. The Hawke sisters set their brother down to rest while Aveline gave a brief rundown on the obvious lack of success finding Gamlen, our ticket into the city. Of course, that didn't calm the mood. As I sat down to relax, Aveline got up again to pace. Everyone was getting anxious about the long wait, since we'd had no word from Gamlen or the guards.
Calenhad came to sit next to me, so I scratched at his ears and scruff, earning a pleased huff. Something about animals always made me feel better.
"You're such a good boy," I crooned, "Yes." I drew out the last word as Calenhad let out a contented growl. It was rather funny to me, but I had noticed over the last week, starting on the ship, that the mabari had started growling and grunting every time I started petting him.
Though Marian had been concerned at first, Calenhad's dopey grin and my calm assurances had been enough to show her that the hound wasn't being aggressive. It was cute, at least, to me. I wondered if he had started doing it because I always talked to him in a low rumble during the petting.
I placed a kiss on Calenhad's forehead. "Do you think they forgot about us, puppy?"
He whined.
"No, I don't think so either. Who could forget such a cute face?" I grabbed his jaw on either side and scratched, making his head wobble back and forth.
"You realize he's a war hound," Carver said, sitting on a step behind me, "Bred for battle. The way you talk to him is... sickening."
Turning, I gaped for a moment, my heart feeling like it would simultaneously stop and leap out of my chest. "Just because he can battle doesn't mean he can't be cute!" I realized I was speaking loudly, but I couldn't stop myself. "Don't be jealous just because he's loveable!"
"I- I'm not jealous!"
Calenhad barked twice.
"And you stay out of this!"
I turned back to the hound and started stroking his back when I noticed his ears lowering. "Don't listen to him, sweetie. You can always join our arguments."
Carver groaned but seemed to realize he was fighting a losing battle. He took some even breaths at Bethany's instruction, reminding me of his health and draining the playfulness right out of me.
The small talk continued to shrink from there, until our group was completely silent. We eventually followed Aveline to where her pacing had taken her: Up the main staircase, past large statues of a slaves wailing in various states of despair. Four-armed winged warrior statues stood at either end, watching. God, I really hated Kirkwall's aesthetic. Statues which looked like The Twins were everywhere, so even after sailing through the port you couldn't escape it. I supposed that was the point.
The only relief was Aveline chose to pace near a simple bird statue. When I walked around the side of it and settled back down, I found I could ignore every other piece of 'art' in the Gallows. After what seemed like thirty minutes of nonstop worrying, Aveline finally spoke up.
"It's been three days. This waiting has to end." She stopped to look back at all of us.
Leandra twisted her hands together as she answered. "Gamlen will be here any moment, I'm sure it won't be much longer. He must still be searching for us!"
"And if he's not?"
I had to side with Aveline on this one. "We aren't exactly hard to find. We're in sight of the doors."
"Mother's right," Bethany spoke up, "We just need to be patient."
Carver scoffed. "He's family, isn't he? He should have been here."
"Don't look now," Marian stage whispered, "But I think that's our man."
We all looked to where she was gesturing and noticed a scruffy man walking through the side gates to the city. He looked as old as Leandra, though time had worn far more wrinkles onto his face, like his skin was like a pallid ocean cliff. The only noticeable color on him was the dark blue of his eyes, a family trait. He wore threadbare clothes, and it was a wonder any hope stayed on Leandra's face as she ran to greet him.
"Gamlen!" She wrapped her arms around him as they met, the greying man returning her hug. They really did seem like siblings this way, as though they were picking up roles both of them left long ago.
"Leandra, damn girl." He laughed and pulled back. "Oh, the years haven't been kind to you."
She slapped him lightly, looking affronted. Right, his personality. A nervous throat clearing preceded his next thoughts.
"Er, right. Let me just say upfront, I wasn't expecting this. The Blight, your husband... dead." The siblings separated, Gamlen's wrinkles deep now as he looked at his older sister. "I'd, ah, figured you'd pretty much be Ferelden for life."
"Oh Gamlen, it was awful. We nearly came too late." She looked back, eyes seeking out her son. "My Carver almost didn't make it, thank the Maker for Sabrina."
I startled and immediately felt the heat crawling across my back and neck. Oh, I hated being praised in front of strangers, especially when I felt I didn't deserve it. Gamlen just sighed and muttered something about the Maker under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Leandra, don't drop this on me here. I don't even know if I can help you get in."
"Well, there are other ways into a city," Marian sighed dramatically. An elbow from Bethany had her speaking up with a saccharine voice. "Would it help if I said you were my favorite uncle?"
He chuckled, some of the wear on his face looking lighter at the sound. "It'd make me feel better, but that's about it."
"I think those deserters from earlier were a good example of things we shouldn't try," Bethany said, "Didn't work out so well for them."
"I hate to agree, but there's a reason they housed us in an old prison," Aveline said, voice somber.
A sigh from the older man stopped their musings. "I had been hoping to grease some palms, but the Knight-Commander's been cracking down. We're gonna need more grease."
"Again with the Knight-Commander," I complained.
"That is odd," Marian muttered to me. Leandra was starting to look distraught.
"But... what about the estate?" she insisted, "Surely father left something when he died."
"Right, about the estate..." Gamlen started hesitantly. Uh-oh, this was one of the main parts I remembered. Everyone else seemed to catch onto his tone as well, Bethany and Carver sharing worried looks. "It's, uh, gone."
"What?"
"To settle a debt. I've been meaning to write you," he rushed through the end.
"Then there's no hope." Her shoulders drooped and she dropped her eyes to the ground, lips thinning. Carver put an arm around his mother's shoulders.
"N-not quite," Gamlen seemed hasty to assure, "I know some people who might help. If... you're not too delicate about the company you keep."
"Mother said our family was wealthy," Marian said, voice too quiet.
Leandra took a deep breath and looked back up. "I can't believe you sold the estate. Gamlen, how could you? That was our home."
"Well, I didn't expect your blasted family to show up on my doorstep," her brother grit out.
Carver was glaring at the man now. "You really can't help us."
"I am blighted helping!" he insisted. "I've got two offers of work from people who've got the coin to open those gates." He then turned back to Leandra.
"I've got a nice place in Lowtown, you'll see, it'll all work out."
"Sounds like he's trying to convince himself," Aveline murmured. I caught her eye and nodded. The others didn't know, but I was well aware of the pay gap in this city. Lowtown was not 'nice.'
"Do we really need to stay in Kirkwall?" Marian offered, "Let's just go to another city."
Mama Hawke shook her head and grabbed the hand Carver had on her shoulder. "Kirkwall was my home. I can't believe they won't let me come back."
"Every city on the coastline has been hip deep in Fereldens since the Blight," Gamlen informed us, "You could try your luck further inland, I suppose, but you won't have any family to help you there. It won't be easy."
"We're not putting Mother through that," Bethany spoke up. Her twin tightened his grip on Mama Hawke, a scowl on his face.
"We came here. We're staying here." Carver pointed downward fiercely with his free hand. I had the sudden urge to punch him in the face. There was no need to be so adamant, Marian was only offering a possibility. I looked at her and saw the resignation.
"Seems we don't have much choice. Let's hear it Uncle. What do you have in mind?"
A/N: Wow! An update so soon after I just made one (for a different fic)? Crazy.
I talked about a lot of things I haven't actually experienced in this chapter. ...Well, obviously magic and such, but I meant something else! I have little to no experience sailing on the open sea, as my character mentions. I have also never been in a situation where people were actually being killed right in front of me. The mindfulness meditation is helpful for both, but wouldn't make the problems go away. I hope I've conveyed an underlying sense of fear, regardless of her current composure. Seems like she had better deal with her feelings at some point...
