Disclaimer: Does Bioware get their stuff out on time? Because I sure don't.
"Where is Richard...?" Marian was discreetly searching the area for Athenril's contact.
"I don't see anyone," I said lowly.
"Let's wait. Just for a little while." I agreed, and we stood against a wall, trying not to appear uncomfortable. Marian was infinitely more successful than I was, though I hoped I at least looked bored.
Cool night air was blowing off to the direction of the docks, an occurrence Mama Hawke had called a land breeze. Not many people wandered the city once the sun started setting. The darkened streets belonged to thieves and smugglers; like us.
After ten long minutes of tense silence, Hawke spoke up. "This isn't right. I've never known him to be so late before..."
That only made me tense up more. "A trap?" I murmured.
"Maybe. We'll wait a little longer. Keep your guard up."
A man did eventually walk into the area, but his cold smirk and Hawke's sudden need to grab her weapon got my heart pumping.
"I think them's the ones." Two more men followed him, both scruffy, each looking at us.
"I think you're right. Sorry girls, but it's just not your day."
Hawke whipped her weapon off her back, prompting me to do the same. It felt heavy in my hands, and I wondered if I could even swing it properly. My pulse was so loud in my ears, I barely heard the man in front call the charge.
One man pulled back and the last two went straight for each of us. While Hawke met her attacker with a battle cry, I was a little more dubious, letting him come to me.
I moved out of the way of the man, swiping at him with my swordstaff. Not with enough force, apparently, as he was able to block and redirect my strike easily.
"Don't hold back!" Hawke shouted, and I was sure she meant it for me.
A swipe of the man's sword had me agreeing mentally, and I kept my feet steady, watching for his next move. Dodging his next few swipes, I saw something off in his balance and thrust my weapon forward, embedding it in his shoulder.
He screeched in pain and I stumbled back, trying not to look at the blood. He started backing up, his grip on his sword faltering. I couldn't let him go, right? But seeing someone so unwilling to fight took the wind right out of my sails. I just couldn't chase him down and end him in cold blood.
I felt a pain in my side as I stood there and yelled in surprise, twitching away from whatever it was that hit me. The man who had been backing away took advantage of this, lunging forward again. I desperately dodged away, panic now coursing through me. I felt a tingling along my arms as I swiped out in a horizontal strike, and watched as my electrified blade collided with his sword, causing currents to run through his body and leave him almost paralyzed. He fell to his knees as the shock ended, and, running on adrenaline, I slashed down at his arms.
A sick cracking sound reached my ears as the man screamed, louder this time, and one of his hands flopped almost to the ground, hanging by only skin. Turning away, I saw Hawke appear out of the corner of my eye and silence him with a thrust through the chest. I didn't watch him fall to the ground, eyes flitting from his body to the ones Hawke left behind, never settling on the bloody messes.
I vaguely noticed that one of the men was grasping a crossbow in his still hands, and that it looked like one of his bolts was poking out of my side. That explained the earlier pain then.
"Let me look at it," Hawke demanded.
I carefully shifted my arm away from my side, wincing as it pulled some of the muscles there. Hawke hummed as she came around to look at a different angle.
"It doesn't look too bad. Let's sit you down." Once I was sitting on a nearby crate, she took out some bandages, a wineskin, and a small container. With one hand holding the bolt still, Hawke used a dagger from her belt to lop off the end. "We'll have to remove your gambeson."
It took a lot of hissing on my part, and apologies on Hawke's, but eventually we opened my armor coat to see the wound. The bolt had gone just barely into the skin, looking like it had only gotten through the gambeson due to its smaller head.
"Hold tight, I'm going to remove it."
I gritted my teeth and hissed as she drew the bolt through, glad that it had skimmed me rather than sticking straight into one of my organs. She then lifted my shirt to get a better look.
"Alright, good. This is going to sting a little, but we have to clean it." She put some of the diluted wine onto a cloth and dabbed it on my wound, making me groan.
"I know, I know. Almost done," Marian assured me.
When it stopped bleeding quite so much, she opened the small container, revealing a paste that smelled strongly of herbs. She spread some onto the wound, making me twitch at the chill and sting. It felt like a lotion Neosporin. She finished by carefully wrapping the wound, giving me the go ahead to pull my clothes back over the area.
"He got a lucky shot in," Marian said. "Anywhere else on your torso, a less powerful crossbow, and your armor would have stopped it from going so far."
"Yay," I said, lack of breath making it sound less sarcastic. She still cocked her hip as she stood up.
"It could have been much worse. You need to be more aware of your surroundings." At my lowered head, I saw her stance soften. "I know this is your first actual mission, but I'm only one person. I can't always protect you."
"I... I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Can you still fight?"
I stood, carefully moving my arm around. It hurt when I pulled the muscles in my side, so my fighting couldn't be too aggressive.
"I'll live. I'm not used to fighting with injuries though."
"Guess you get first hand experience." There was a crooked smile on her face. "Let's plan."
Arms limp, I followed after Hawke, not willing to let my weapon go, even though it made walking awkward. My partner for the night had decided that we should try to trace back the men that came after us. She thought they might have held up or killed the man we were supposed to meet.
Though she had initially been unsure where to look.
"We know what direction they came from, but aside from that, they could have started anywhere. There aren't any notes in their pockets either..."
I tried to look at parts of their bodies that wouldn't make me nauseous, though it seemed an exercise in futility. "They have weird clothes," I commented, half to distract myself.
"Really? What makes you say that?"
"Well, it doesn't look like they're mercenaries or anything."
She looked up at me from her crouched position. "That's true, but they could have been hired for a one-time job. Lots of the people in Lowtown are desperate."
"I know. But it's not that." I thought for a moment before placing what was bothering me. "Their clothes look similar to what I've seen people wearing at the docks."
Hawke perked up at this. "The docks? Worth a try."
And so we weaved our way through Lowtown. Luckily enough, we hadn't run into anyone else that wanted to fight. I knew that could change in an instant, and that thought kept my nerves on end.
"Nearly there," she murmured to me. "Once we arrive, we'll take a quick look around. If we don't find anything, we'll just have to report back without the goods."
I nodded tersely, and we descended back into silence. We checked around the docks, noting the boats were all moored, and cargo removed. Everything seemed to be sorted, at least by the ship it came from or where it was going. Nothing much stood out; no bodies, no blood or signs of a scuffle, and no shady people jumping out to kill us. It was, underwhelming.
"Nothing," Hawke whispered. "We're done here. We'll just have to see what Athenril wants to do next."
"Agreed. Let's go."
Despite the fact that we weren't attacked on our way back to the hideout, I felt like eyes were watching me all the way back.
"And there were no clues to lead you to those bastards? None?" Needless to say, Athenril was not happy about our job report. She stabbed a knife into her desk, heaving a few breaths.
"Not that we saw. And we checked nearly the entirety of the docks." Hawke's calm voice was impressive to me. Our boss' anger was making my hands shake.
She sighed and let go of the knife. "So either Richard is dead, or he's defected. Shame. He was a good contact, too."
Leron, her right-hand man, stepped up then. "In that case, your work is done, for today. We'll let you know what we've decided on this matter tomorrow."
When they made no move to do anything else, Hawke spoke up. "We do still get paid, though?"
The elves shared a look before Athenril flicked her fingers at Leron. He reached into his own pouch and handed Hawke several coppers before stepping away again.
"This is it?" Hawke frowned at the miniscule pile of coins in her hand. "What about- Marie?" She stumbled a little over my name, but it looked like both of them attributed it to her anger.
"That's for both of you," the man said.
Athenril clarified with, "No goods, smaller pay. We have nothing to sell unless we get that cargo."
Hawke clenched her jaw, but at my look of dull acceptance, she said nothing else, pocketed the coins, and we both left the house.
"Looks like cabbage stew tomorrow," Hawke said, sounding annoyed, but heading towards something like depression. I couldn't stand that.
Besides, wasn't I going to hang out with Varric tomorrow? I had plenty to tell him from tonight. There was no reason for me to pocket any of the take.
"You keep it," I told Marian.
Her head jerked to me. "What? No, I can't do that."
"Please. It's fine."
"I'm not sure it is. What are you going to eat? You're not always around the house for lunch."
"Look, my take will make at least a little difference. You can get some roots or something, too."
"Hm. So I'll see you for midday meal, then?"
"Er, no?" I flinched at her steely stare. "I'm going to eat I promise. I... I have some money stored away. Besides, I didn't help much with the job anyway."
Marian's stare didn't abate. "I don't feel right, taking this from you." But I saw the way her hand lingered near the coins. It would really help the family if she could keep them.
"You're not taking them, I'm giving them to you. Just... think of it as thanks for saving my butt, if you have to."
She frowned, looking at my side. "Well, alright, I suppose."
I saw the frown leave her eyes, and considered that a victory.
Nathaniel was standing in front of me. How the hell did this happen? All I was doing was walking around Hightown, searching for... well him. While Athenril resolved the issue from the night before, I was supposed to do another spy mission, maybe talk to some of the people Nathaniel had been talking to as well, and see what he was digging for. I hadn't expected to literally run into him.
He was fairly tall, probably around Marian's height, and I estimated her around six feet. His eyes were a dark blue with grey bits, something I was only able to see because he was looking down at me in surprise. One tense moment later, and we were both stepping back and apologizing. This was bad; I wasn't supposed to make contact with him, but I couldn't be suspicious now that I had.
"I should have been paying attention, I'm truly sorry," he was saying.
"No no, it's my fault, too." I waved my hands back and forth. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."
"Ah, well, before you go, might I ask you a question?"
I hesitated, but wasn't this the information I was supposed to get anyway? "Sure?"
"Well, have you come from Ferelden recently? I deeply apologize if that's not the case."
"Um, I have," I said, watching his face closely, "Why?"
"I have family there. Do you have any news from Ferelden? No one seems to be able to keep regular contact there..."
Ah. So he was worried about the other Howes. I guess they didn't bother to update him on the murders they committed. Even so, his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes pleaded for any sort of yes; I couldn't help sympathizing.
"I'm, I'm sorry. I don't have any family there, so, no. I haven't heard anything."
His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, that was careless of me."
"Don't worry about it. I don't mean they were killed or anything."
"Ah. Good." He sighed. "Thank you for your help, anyway."
His entire body posture was slumped, and I felt my heart clench. There had to be someone in Ferelden that I could contact for him. Okay, messenger pigeons would find someone who stayed in one place easier, so none of the heroes of Ferelden. I didn't know many people in Denerim, at least, besides Loghain, but I wasn't gonna ask him.
I made a sound, and Nathaniel stopped to give me a questioning look. "Have you tried sending a letter to your family?"
"I have," he confirmed, "But I received no answer. I fear the worst."
"What part are they in?"
I saw him look slightly guilty as he answered, "Northern, in the arling of Amaranthine."
"They should be fine then. The Blight is coming up from the south. It won't reach the northern part for a long time."
"I appreciate the thought, but my father would be involved in repelling the horde. I suppose I just, worry."
"I see..." I fumbled over a few words, trying to think of something, anything to comfort him. "Why don't you ask Loghain?"
The startled and almost panicked look he gave me turned my mouth sour. My attempt at swallowing only left a thick lump in my throat, not helped as Nathaniel's eyes filled with suspicion.
"Why would you suggest that?"
'I don't know!' my mind screamed, 'What a stupid thing to say!'
But something even more idiotic decided to leave my mouth. "Doesn't your dad know him?" I heard myself say.
Nathaniel's body language was tense, like a coil spring. My own body felt light, like my soul had departed and was watching from a distance. I mumbled out some apologies and made to leave.
A rough hand grabbing me stopped me in my tracks. I flinched as the strain pulled at the wound in my side. "Let go." I couldn't move without pulling my arm out of my socket.
"What's your name?" His tone was harder than his grip.
"Nothing," I insisted, twisting my arm but not facing him.
"How do you know about my father?"
"I don't! I'm sorry!" Finally looking at him brought no comfort. Nathaniel's anguished brows over his stern, flat lips only made me feel guiltier.
When I blinked away moisture in my eyes, he let go. His mouth moved like he meant to say something, but I never gave him the chance. With a push from my still distant soul, my body flew across Hightown, dodging through crowds and down stairs until the Hanged Man came into sight.
Warm air spiced with ale, meat, and sweat welcomed me in, and I headed straight for a table in the back. Plopping down in the worn tavern seat, I felt a whoosh of breath escape me. My body felt like popsicles sticks moving around in a pile of jello. Too sensitive and delicate.
"That was some sigh." Varric stared from across the table, setting his drink aside as though preparing for a speech. "So, what have you been up to the past few days?"
"I don't know," I mumbled into my hands. A peek at his skeptical expression and, plaintively, I asked, "Drink?"
He ordered for me, steering clear of the topic until I had downed about half of the sweet ale. Another sigh passed through my lips, partly because of the situation I had put myself in, and partly because the ale cooled my throat. Licking my lips to catch stray drops, I began an explanation.
"So, first job I ever got?" I raised an eyebrow in question, and Varric scoffed.
"Tall, dark and broody?"
I nodded, a smile pulling at my mouth. "Right. I, uh... might have messed up."
Even though my sentence went quieter the more I spoke, I had no doubt Varric heard every word. His lowered brows cast shadows over his usually bright eyes.
"How?"
Only one word, but his voice was like heavy soil falling on a grave. My grave. Jesus. I tried to gently wave his unsaid worries down.
"Don't worry, just, I'm probably making this out to be worse than it is." What a load of horseshit that was. I was equally worried, but mainly for myself. "It's not like I spilled anything important, okay? Promise."
He hummed. "I'll judge that for myself. What happened?"
Sighs and alcohol shouldn't mix so often. A swig later, warmth settling in my stomach, and I was spilling out the whole debacle, starting from Athenril's oddly threatening briefing.
"-And since you've already learned some of what he's up to, you might as well finish the job." Athenril cocked her head to the side. "Do you know what you're looking for?"
Taking a deep breath to slow my heartrate, I tried to sound like I knew what I was doing. "Nathaniel has been asking about Ferelden. As son to a powerful arl in Ferelden, especially since there's a Blight, it's not unusual. But... our client is worried he might attempt to travel there."
Even as my boss nodded, I felt lost. What was the ultimate goal? There were definitely things going on I was unaware of, and it made shivers crawl across my shoulders.
"Make sure he isn't asking anything alarming. We have to tie up those... loose ends before you continue your other mission." Her tone had me quickly agreeing.
"Wait, what other mission?" I blinked at Varric's confusion for a moment before a metaphorical light switched on in my head.
"Right! Right," I said, scrubbing a hand over my face. "The reason I haven't been around much is I've been training to do... y'know. Actual smuggling. Yesterday was supposed to be my first real mission..."
"Let me guess, that didn't go well either."
"Ding, ding," I imitated a gameshow bell. "You are correct."
I gave him a quick rundown of that flop as well, leaving out my magic and other personal struggles. Varric nodded, eyes distant like he was absorbing everything.
"And then she sends you to finish up your previous intel mission while you wait for her to clean up your mess from the trade-off." He chuckled, whether at my wince or a morbid sense of humor, I wasn't sure. "Not looking especially good for you right now."
Hot anger and shame rushed across my skin, leaving it flushed, and a deep frown carved across my face before I could stop it. I knew I wasn't doing well. I wasn't cut out for seedy, underground work. But my livelihood, as well as the Hawkes, depended on my ability to complete my tasks properly. The vision of Marian longing after a few coppers floated into my mind, making my heart ache.
"I know that," I said, but the shake in my voice was pathetic, so I focused on draining my mug instead of continuing.
"Alright, you still haven't gotten to the part where Ser Surly is a problem."
I snorted at his nickname. Varric waited, the picture of intrigued patience, with his arms folded over the table. My mind spiraled off for a moment, wondering if he had a tall chair, or if he had to stack up books on the seat to reach the table like I did. Ale no longer swirled in my mug, so I pushed it away and continued with my story.
After hesitating only once, when I had to reveal Nathaniel now knew I was informed on his lineage, I caught Varric up on my previous jobs. By the end, I was feeling warmer and calmer, something I knew was due in part to the alcohol.
"As you can tell," I said, head drooping, "I'm in sort of a pickle."
"You don't need me to tell you this," Varric said, "but you probably shouldn't follow him around anymore. Once someone knows you, that's it. Anonymity is the main thing that works in your favor."
I agreed in a despairing voice. "What do you think...?" My main fear was that my slip-up would reveal too much about me. It seemed silly, considering that I claimed to be from Ferelden and only the Hawkes knew the truth. But if I blurted out information now, so early, I could do it again, during a more critical moment.
"I think, you were right to begin with." Lifting my head, I saw Varric finally leaning back in his seat. "You messed up, but it's not as big a problem as you're worried about."
Rubbing at my face hid the relieved tears that were threatening to form, and I took an extra breath to calm down.
"Good," I said. "Great. Fantastic. Athenril will probably be angry but... I can deal. I guess."
Varric shrugged. "Mistakes happen. This one wasn't so bad, and you'll be more careful in the future, right?"
I made sure to look straight into his eyes while nodding, so he could see my conviction. Our conversation was halted for a few minutes when food came, and I discovered a tasty seafood stew. It was surprising to me how varied and tasty the tavern's food could be. Living so close to the sea was weird, since it was something I had wanted on Earth, but I wasn't going to ignore the opportunity for new food while I was here. Varric was the one to pick up the conversation while I was spooning food into my mouth.
"Speaking of mistakes," and was that ever a bad start to a conversation, "You'll have to be more careful out there."
"Yes, I know."
"No, I'm not talking about your own problems. I mean there have been some odd corpses found. One seemed burned up from the inside."
Broth tried to slip into my lungs with my gasp, and I ended up coughing, one hand over my mouth while the other gripped the table. Varric looked ready to get up but I shook my head. Several firm pats on my back normalized my breathing. Norah stood above me, looking concerned.
"You alright, sweetie?"
"Yes," I croaked, "Yes, thanks." Seemed I was doing more reassuring this week than I had for the past few months in my world. "Tried to inhale my food."
My smile worked, helping the waitress find her own. "Don't die for our food," she said, using the same joking tone, "It isn't that good."
"I'll be the judge of that."
She shook her head and moved on to deliver fresh mugs to the other tables. Varric had a lopsided smile on his face while I finished my last few coughs and wiped my mouth. While I was glad I was a clean eater, mistakes like the one I just made had me sorely missing napkins.
"Worried?" Varric teased. "There hasn't been any confirmation of magic but..." His shoulders shrugged is a way that implied no one needed official confirmation to believe.
"Er, no?" Words slowly fell off my tongue, and I tasted each one beforehand, trying not to say anything I shouldn't. I had done that enough today. "I mean, no confirmation... right?"
Varric scoffed. "Can't believe the official reports, you know. What else would burn someone up from the inside?"
"...Lightning?" I said, trying to shrink into my gambeson. He looked amused, but shook his head.
"Who's to say? Just... think before you fight, okay?" Exasperation, and maybe worry, tinged his tone, so I agreed with no more arguments.
Electrical magic had been coming easier to me, but it seemed it wasn't discreet enough. Bethany would have to teach me another form of magic. A deep groan shook my chest. I answered the unasked question in Varric's eyes.
"Be- the others- my family," I internally cursed myself as I tripped over the beginning of my sentence, cheeks still warm from the alcohol, "They're gonna want to train me after they hear that, and..."
My head thumped to the table.
"Sounds normal to me." I could hear the shrug in Varric's voice, so I picked my head up to give him a half-lidded glare.
"Not when one of them is a human dick-measuring contest."
His startled laughter was infectious, and I found myself releasing tension through my chuckles. Athenril wasn't going to be happy, but she never was. Even so, at that moment, I felt like I could survive the next few weeks on Varric's laughter alone.
Nighttime was, objectively, the easiest part of my day. All I had to do was clean up, eat, and go to sleep. Simple. The problem was falling asleep. Rarely had I laid awake at home, praying for sleep. Closing my eyes and drifting into dreams had always been a pleasure for me, something both relaxing and-depending on the dream-stimulating.
As the night crept slowly by, soft breathing filling the room, I realized sleep was out of my reach. I had rolled from my back, to my side, to my stomach, around and around, yet sleep eluded me. The ceiling, pitted from ages of use, provided a brief distraction as I traced out pictures with my eyes.
I knew why I couldn't fall asleep. Despite my anxiety over my new job, and wondering if Athenril would decide to 'take care of' me, I was more relaxed than I had been while traveling. It had taken some time, but I was used to my situation, if not happy with it. Physical exercise could only tire me out so much, and when I was stuck thinking, I needed familiarity to calm my thoughts. When I was in my home dimension, that had always been my favorite plush cat, Crystal. Now, I had nothing to squeeze, nothing that smelled like home, and no substitutes.
Keeping my steps and breathing soft, I crept out of bed and went out to the main room. Bethany sat in front of the hearth fire, her own small flame dancing in her hands. I hesitated in the doorframe, watching her practice until she looked up at me with a smile. I hesitantly sat down next to her as she snuffed the flame, fingers closing around it.
"What are you doing up?" she asked, voice low.
"Just... couldn't sleep." We stared at the fire for a while, taking comfort in each others' presence.
"Any reason why?"
"No," I whispered. "...Sort of. I was thinking. A lot. About what's happened."
Bethany hummed and turned to me. "Anything in particular? Or something I can help with?"
I considered several of the things that were keeping me awake. Talking about my need to hug something or someone while I slept was completely out of the question. I would live. One other thing, however, tickled at my throat until I finally whispered, "I need to know more magic."
"...Okay," she whispered back, nodding. "What do you need to know?"
"My- um, I heard some news today." The fire drew my gaze each time I tried to look at Bethany's concerned face. "I think it's only other smugglers and thieves that know, but they noticed... they noticed some people killed with magic."
A small hitch in the breathing to my left told me Bethany understood.
"So, we should be careful, right? But I don't have a lot of options, and I don't have as much experience in combat, with my sword or..." I trailed off.
"I understand." I finally looked over to see the younger woman with a hand to her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. "Elemental magic is my strength, but I did learn a spell from my father that would help immensely."
"Really? What?"
"It's glyph magic. The only one I ever mastered was a glyph of paralysis, but it would still be an advantage in battle."
"That's... perfect!" A smile stretched my cheeks, and a bouncy feeling spread through my limbs. I continued to whisper-yell, "Even a few seconds would be so helpful for fighting, or even running. And it leaves no trace right?"
Bethany confirmed as I shifted in place, all tiredness gone. "I suppose you'd like to learn as soon as possible?"
"Yes, absolutely. Now I don't feel so bad that Athenril told me I was benched for a few days."
"Benched?"
"Er, so anyway, where would we start?"
Most of the next day was spent practicing glyphs with Bethany. Our smuggler boss must have liked her more than she did me, because Bethany came back early in the morning to say that she'd requested time off to train me. My head hit the pillow hard that night, and worn from intensive training, I fell asleep.
A soft rustling brought me to awareness. Colorful sky stretched out across the horizon around me, a blazing sunset on one side, dark indigo mountains on another, and flashing storm clouds rolled across the third. Above me was a beautiful display of the Milky Way coming into view as the sun set. Another rustle brought my attention to the ground I lay on. Sitting up, I saw pure white sand dunes covered the landscape, broken up only by small valleys filled with patches of soft brown grasses and yuccas.
White Sands National Monument. It was beautiful, as always.
Footsteps alerted me to another presence: a tall man walking up the dune I sat on. Describing him eluded me, as he shifted each time I blinked. He had a face that looked naturally curious, eyes placid and ready to absorb whatever information he came upon. As he scaled the side of the dune, his stance was relaxed, arms swinging idly at his sides as he leaned into the slope with each step. Every other feature was only consistent in its want to change. Even his clothes fluctuated, seeming more like an idea than an absolute.
No words were exchanged until he reached the top, hips canted as he looked down at me. "It is nice to see you," he said.
Information slammed into my mind, telling me I knew him. No, we were friends. Of course, I thought, It's a dream. Relaxed at the revelation, I smiled and greeted the man who was my friend.
"I have been worried about you," he said. "It was... a very unusual fall you had, through the Veil."
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Veil?"
"Yes. How have you been feeling?"
"Alright." No information came to my mind about the 'Veil'. Asking the man would be the most direct route, but he was already speaking.
"No one- how should I put this." He thought with fingers tapping at his leg. "Has anyone unsavory or suspicious come to you in your dreams?"
"...No?" I curled my legs closer to me. "I mean, I've had uncomfortable dreams but..."
Nightmares hadn't frightened me for years. I couldn't pinpoint an exact age, but sometime in middle school I had stopped having bad dreams. Some would make me unhappy, or attempt to scare me, but those I could usually change or ignore until a new dream took its place. Even the ones I couldn't alter were never enough to truly frighten me. The man nodded, and I got the sense he understood my unspoken message.
"Hey, what's your name?" He blinked in surprise. "I mean, we're friends, so I should know. But I need something to call you."
He hummed. "Do you not already?"
"Not that I know of. I mean, nothing comes to mind. Why?"
"I am Learning." The man's smile was indulgent, as though reminding me of a long forgotten inside joke. "Though you may call me Larry, as per usual."
It was my turn to blink. Larry was a being-a ghost or spirit, depending on my mood-whom I would blame strange happenings on. Moving glasses, slamming doors, and other weird phenomenon would usually be met with a sarcastic "Thanks Larry," or "That isn't funny Larry." It was a running joke between me and people I was close to.
He had never featured in my dreams, that I remembered, but I didn't mind it.
"Cool. What're you here for?" I got the sense Larry was either frustrated or incredulous by the way he ran a hand slowly over his face.
"We can jump right into business, I suppose." Folding his legs, he sat down beside me. "Dreams are going to be more hazardous now that you have such a connection to the Fade. I am glad it hasn't been a issue so far, but I want you to keep your guard up."
"Sounds... fine," I said, my words trickling out as I processed his. "Why is it dangerous? And how?"
He sighed through his nose. "I'm not sure I can explain, not while you have forgotten Thedas-"
"From Dragon Age?"
"Yes. Don't interrupt. You haven't brought your memories of the current situation with you this time. Regardless, you do have to remember what I tell you next." He stared at me, silent, until I agreed. "You have a wonderful way of dealing with bad situations while you dream. If someone ever asks you to make a deal, no matter who they are, no matter the conditions, do not accept."
"That's pretty obvious," I said, ignoring the talk about my memories for the moment.
"I'm sure it is, especially to your waking mind. Tricks are easier here, however. I wish to make sure you will be vigilant."
"If it makes you feel better." I shoved him playfully with my shoulder. "I promise not to sell my soul to Satan."
He snorted, a sound out of place with his formal way of speaking. "Good enough, for now. Our time grows short. I shall see you again soon, Sabrina."
Rough shaking woke me up; My eyes flew open to Carver. "Get up," he demanded before walking out of the bedroom.
As my dream started trickling out of my head, I desperately grasped onto a few key details. I had met a friend. They said I was in danger. Don't summon Satan.
"Are you up yet?" Carver yelled from the main room.
"Easier said than done," I muttered bitterly to myself.
A few days after my failure of a first mission, Leron had a verdict for us. "Our previous contact, Richard, is dead. We will no longer speak of him."
Okay, that wasn't ominous. Athenril's absence was odd, too...
"We have a lead on where the deserter might be, here." Leron handed Marian a paper. "This is the woman you need to talk to, she'll give you more information. Because this will likely devolve into a fight, we are sending your brother as well."
Carver chose that moment to walk into the room. Convenient.
"We don't suspect there will be many men there. Regardless, we can't have people opposing our operation. Eliminate anyone who stands against you."
"And those who are neutral?" Marian asked.
The elf snorted. "Not likely to find those. You can try to convince them to keep quiet and out of the way, but if they rebuild because of your actions, you take responsibility."
They stared each other down for a few moments, neither flinching. "We'll take that chance, if it presents itself."
"Fine. So long as you remember what you're there for."
"We will," Carver assured.
"Then you're dismissed."
Once outside, Carver turned to his older sister. "Do you really think we'll find anyone willing to back down so easily?"
"Perhaps not," Marian said, "But it doesn't hurt to ask. Who knows what we'll come across."
"A bunch of thieves, likely," Carver said, scoffing.
"You forget that, currently, we're 'a bunch of thieves' too, dear brother."
I giggled, which only increased Carver's consternation. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Like it or not, it's good to face the truth," I inserted.
"There you go!" Marian said cheerfully.
Carver just grunted at us, adding to our mirth. We made our way to the docks fairly quickly, Marian saying that the woman we needed to talk to would be near a cart of fish.
"Remember, it's still daylight, so we shouldn't cause a scene." Carver and I agreed with her. The woman was about middle aged, red hair greying and hands worn from working. "Excuse me, are you Grizel?"
The fishmonger looked us over, one by one. Her stare was disconcerting, especially since she lingered on our weapons. "Who's asking?"
"The Hawkes."
Even as my eyes widened, I looked straight at the stones beneath us, hoping the older woman wouldn't notice. Why would Marian would introduce us in that way? Perhaps I had been... accepted as part of the family. Or maybe it was just to stop from arousing the woman's suspicions. Even so, it made something warm and fuzzy settle in my stomach, easily chasing away the butterflies.
"I see," the redheaded woman said, "Then why don't you pick up some supplies for me. Check around the store house there." She pointed at a building not too far away, with shoddily boarded windows. "Check the back."
"Thank you," Marian said.
The building looked nearly abandoned, or would have, had it not been for the signs of people entering. There were scuffs where the door had been opened and closed, and it looked like the window blocks themselves were able to be moved liked shutters.
"So, anyone else think we should go in quiet?" I whispered.
"Agreed," Carver said, making me do a double take. "We need all the advantage we can get."
So, Marian opened the door slowly. We winced at the slight scraping sound it made, but so far, no one had popped out to stab us. We took that as a good sign and entered, closing the door behind us.
As we took our first few steps in, I noticed something odd about the floor. It looked... uneven. Now, it wasn't as though Lowtown houses were generally in the best shape, but they were better near the docks, especially since they were usually flattened out by the sheer amount of traffic the area got. So seeing some almost square shaped pieces on the floor, almost like panels-
I gasped and reached for Marian, grabbing at her arms. "Stop-!" I hissed, but I dragged her back too late.
There was a clicking sound as she stumbled back, before an explosion of gas filled the area. We all covered our mouths, Marian motioning with her free hand to continue into the base.
Though we moved quickly, the gas was already making me dizzy, the ground before me swirling. We made it into the next room before we encountered warriors.
"Well, would you look at that." There were a couple men just entering the room from the other end, both dressed in dock-workers' clothes, but with armor padding clear underneath. Carver closed the door behind us, but some of the gas was still seeping through cracks. "Looks like someone thought it was a bright idea to walk right into our base here."
The other man snickered, dirty beard twisting up near the mouth. "Let's teach 'em a lesson." They drew their weapons, prompting us to do the same, though mine wasn't very steady. I was sure I heard one of the men snicker at my slight wobble. "Ooh, that's what you get for walking in uninvited," he reprimanded.
"Surely it's not all that bad." I glanced at Marian. Her grip was tight on her sword, but her posture and expression oozed confidence. "I realize we didn't give you any time to prepare a nice tea before we dropped in, but we're not picky guests, I promise."
Judging by how the men were scowling and tensing, neither of them took to Marian's humor. We couldn't talk ourselves out of a fight.
Marian and Carver both charged in, faces tightened in concentration and anger. Both seemed to be fighting off the effects of the poison; maybe they hadn't inhaled as much. Damn tall people.
Since both of the thieves seemed occupied-and they were going to die, though I tried not to think about that-I decided to try one of my newer techniques. Breathing as Bethany taught me, I raised my hands to about shoulder level, spreading them out and feeling the power flowing through the room. Pointing my swordstaff at the closest man, I built the power within me and connected it to the Veil I had felt in the room. Electricity sparked along my arms.
"Move, Marian!" She dodged back; The man was too slow to realize what was going on.
A bolt shot along my weapon and arced right to the thief, causing him to shutter and writhe in silent pain as his weapon dropped to the floor. He fell to his knees as the electricity stopped, skin steaming and eyes rolling back as he collapsed completely.
The other man fighting Carver was still going strong, and seemed to have gotten more aggressive as his comrade fell. "Damn mages!" he shouted.
His anger made him sloppy though, and he missed a strike, Carver taking advantage with an upward sweep. As the man stumbled back in pain, Marian swooped in and finished him off with a piercing blow.
"I had him," Carver huffed.
"Sorry brother, but we need to do this quick." She slid the body off her blade and flicked some excess blood to the floor. "Let's go."
We headed further in, my mind processing the deaths in the back, but focused on the mission in the front. Somehow, I was already getting used to the kills, or at least, it was only tormenting my subconscious.
As we made our way to the next room, we saw various crates and other storage units in a couple corners. A table sat along the far edge, papers scattered across it. Likely where those two men were before they heard us trip the trap.
Marian seemed to think the same as she beelined for the table. Carver looked through several crates, appearing uninterested in the contents he found.
"Not much here," Marian confirmed. "I can't find anything about the shipment we were supposed to pick up. Either they have it further in, or they aren't responsible."
"Let's hope they have it, or Athenril will have our heads," Carver grumbled.
The next room was the biggest we'd seen, and filled with men. They noticed us immediately and stood from their spots at what looked liked a dining table.
"Intruders!" one shouted. Yes, very observant. Fortunately for us, there were boxes in the area that slowed their advancement, giving me time to pull on the Veil again. I breathed, in and out, in and out, finding what I needed and pushing on the power again.
Light glowed in front of us in a large circle, slowly drawing out a glyph. This was something I still had some trouble with. My magic just didn't want to apply itself to the floor, but it would even the playing field for us, and that was desperately needed since we were facing around six men.
Just as they reached us, I finished my spell, slowing all of the men that stepped onto it.
"Kill the mage!"
Marian and Carver stood in front of me, taking out the first two men with no problem. My glyph faded then, leaving us with four more men to take out. I watched as two of them retreated further away, pulling out bows. The long healed injury in my side twinged in phantom pain, and I decided to take care of them first.
Ducking behind some taller crates, I tried to sneak around the edges of the room, avoiding both the main fight in the middle and the eyes of the archers. Once I got close enough, I concentrated and shot a bolt at the nearest archers, causing him to cry out and twitch, his arrow falling from his grasp.
His buddy noticed and aimed at me, but I ducked back behind my crate, heart beating rapidly as I heard a metal weapon being pulled from its sheath. Damn, had one of them decided on melee?
After peeking around and seeing the second archer advancing towards my place, long dagger in hand, I summoned a simple ball of magic and sent it flying at him, clipping his shoulder. He shouted what must have been a curse at me, but it was strangled in anger.
I still had a few more seconds before I was ready to charge another shot of electricity. Bethany had explained that it was a strain on the body and soul to pull on one element, and that it took practice to build up that sort of durability.
Until then, I would need to use my swordstaff. I pulled it up just in time, the man coming around the crate and swinging at me. I managed to block his swing, pushing his long dagger off to the side. It became apparent after a couple of missed swings of my own that he was faster than I was, and the only reason he hadn't hit me yet was because I had better reach.
When I felt electricity building up in me again, I channeled it through my weapon, my next strike against his dagger burning his hands and making him partially collapse. Adrenaline had me stabbing into his chest, afraid he would come back to hurt me once I passed him.
Checking the body only briefly, I stepped over him and continued to the first archer. He was recovered, though his movements weren't especially smooth. He shot an arrow into the main fray before noticing me.
I ran up quickly, before he could notch another arrow and swung at him. He tried to block with his bow, which barely held under my swing. Without thinking, I continued into another slice and caught him in the side, my blade biting in deep. I finished with a thrust to his torso while he was still gurgling.
Looking over at the others, I saw they were finished and making their way to me.
"Finished them both off?" Carver asked.
I nodded, lips pressed tight to keep my thoughts inside.
"Good job," Hawke said. "Let's check the back."
We both followed her into what was likely the last room of the building, my feet dragging and all my muscles still tense.
The last room also had a large table, filled with small crates and more papers.
"Check for our box, I'll go through the papers." Carver and I agreed with her, then began rifling through the materials.
I checked numerous boxes, none of them filled with things I would want, like weapons and armor, until I came across something different. A few smaller boxes were carrying spices. From the smell, they were something exotic. My mouth watered at the thought of having some different spices on my food.
Kirkwall's Lowtown food had a certain taste, and considering our budget, we didn't get many spices. It was far different from what I was used to on Earth, especially the areas where I usually spent time. From spiced Chinese to rich Mexican food, not to mention the greasy American fast food everywhere, I just wasn't used to being restricted to one type of food for so long. Pizza was something I was sure I was having withdrawals for.
A noise of triumph from Marian distracted me from my thoughts of Earth. She held up a piece of paper. It looked to be a letter, from the arrangement, but I still couldn't read a word of it.
"Looks like it's here, somewhere. Let's try these few behind the desk."
Sure enough, we found the shipment of lyrium in a box hidden behind several crates of gauntlets and boots.
"Guess we should bring this back with us," Carver said. He picked it up and carted it back into the other room.
"That all?" I asked Marian.
"Athenril will probably want us to raid the place for more of this," she waved her hand over the boxes, "Especially since we cleared it out. For now, let's just make sure it doesn't smell like rotting carcass when we come back."
I paled, but followed her to where the bodies lay. I watched how she would drag one to a large tarp from the wall before heading to another body. I tried to bring one over as well, grunting at the weight as well as the blood still dripping from the chest area. The work was over soon and I stood by a wall, trying to breath in fresh air.
When they were going the move the two I had killed, Varric's warning flashed through my head. Shit, I had meant to be more careful this time.
"A-ah, um." I scrubbed the back of my head nervously as the Hawke warriors turned to face me. "We should probably... dispose of the bodies that I killed."
"While it never hurts to be cautious," Marian started, "Why, specifically, the ones you killed?"
"I killed them with magic? It's, kind of obvious."
Carver looked down at the man with burned hands. "I suppose it is." He frowned. "We haven't really been doing that for Bethany either. Though, we thought it wouldn't be too noticeable, since she isn't throwing fireballs around..."
"Good thinking," Marian said, nodding at me. "Let's do this quick."
They grabbed the two men with signs of magic on them and carried them to the front. They dropped both of them into a big crate and sealed it.
"There's not many places to put them," Carver said. "Even dumping them in the ocean, they might just come back."
"Wouldn't that be a surprise for the fishermen," Marian said wryly.
"So, is there anywhere people put trash?" I asked. "Maybe we could dump them in a, well, dumping ground."
Marian thought, chin in her hand, but it was Carver who spoke up. "I have seen several people dumping things in a large shaft not far outside the docks. It all looked like junk. Let's try there."
"Seems like the best option we have, at the moment," Marian said. "Though I hate to carry two bodies all the way over there."
"I mean, the only way to avoid that would be to chop off the burnt parts of their bodies..." I hated myself for saying it, but it had to be said. The Hawkes' expressions mirrored the twisted expression I could feel on my own face.
"I'd rather just carry them, whole body," Carver said.
"I... have to agree. At least this time." Marian sighed. "We can dump the other bodies in the back alley. Someone will come by for them... I hope."
I waited in the front room while they went back to dump the tarp of bodies into the alley. With that settled, they came back and set about picking up the crate with the other two men inside. I peeked out one of the windows, then the door, giving the all clear.
We walked out with no one watching us, and headed to dump the bodies. Joy of all joys. Athenril had better be damn pleased by all the shit we got her.
She was pleased, at least, as happy as I ever saw her. She paid up more than usual, and told us we could begin moving materials as soon as we were ready. We all agreed to start on it the next day.
"I've heard interesting things about you lately. That in itself is interesting, considering I usually don't hear much about you at all."
Hunger was the only thing that kept my fingers moving meat to my mouth. My eyes, however, remained unflinchingly still, centered on Varric's face.
"...What kinds of things?"
"Oh, the usual. Some Ferelden refugees are running around Kirkwall causing havoc for the poor local smugglers. And... some of them appear to have been killed with magic. Now, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Poker was never an interest of mine, but as I struggled to keep a stoic face, I wished it had been. I opened my mouth to deny his claim before he cut me off.
"Don't lie to me. I have it on very good authority that you and two others were the ones dumping those bodies."
Blood drained from my face so fast I was surprised I didn't pass out. "Shit." Varric hummed knowingly.
"Honestly, it's none of my business. But what is my business is knowing what my ah, partners are getting into."
Partner? What a strong word. If he was serious, that meant he was wholly dedicated to our odd food-for-info exchange. He leaned forward and lowered his voice.
"So, if you're running around with apostates, I need to know."
"For safety?" I muttered.
"Mine and yours." His eyes looked genuine enough, and hadn't he earned my trust by now? Not only did I know him from the game, but my personal experience with him had shown him to be unwaveringly loyal.
I took a deep breath, lowering my voice more than his, and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't 'run around' with apostates. I... I am the apostate."
His face was close enough to give me a perfect view of his micro expressions. I watched shock pass through first, followed by incredulity, before he tried to wipe his expression clean. His eyebrows were still lowered as he studied my own face.
"If certain people get hold of that information, they could hold it above your head. Make you do things you might not want, or suffer the consequences. Why tell me?"
I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as all my muscles relaxed. "You said it yourself: we're partners. Besides, I don't think you'd ask me that if you were planning on double crossing me." I giggled. "You'd just try to reassure me that you'd never do something like that."
"Sharp as always." He let out a breath. "This does make things more difficult though."
I snorted. "For you maybe. A secret is a heavy burden."
"Where's your sympathy?" he lamented.
"Must have left it back in Ferelden." We laughed a little before Varric got serious.
"In all seriousness, this does change things. I don't have the resources to keep you from the eyes of everyone in Kirkwall."
"I know. And I wouldn't... wouldn't want you to. I mean, yes, but I don't want you getting in trouble."
He followed that with a hearty laugh. "Me? In trouble? Madam, you wound me."
I laughed as well. "Sorry, forgot who I was talking to."
"What are you going to do about all that attention? I take it Athenril knows about your little perk?"
"Yeah. It's how I ended up working for her in the first place." I rubbed my forehead. I had been using magic as a sort of crutch recently. "I guess I'll just have to be more careful... maybe learn different spells, if I plan to use them at all."
"Sounds reasonable. Just... be careful."
"Only 'cause you asked," I said, a lopsided smile on my face.
"Well, I guess we've covered what I meant to say in the first place. So long as you're going to be more careful-" I nodded vigorously, "-Then my work here is done."
"I guess I should get going. It was nice to see you."
"Always a pleasure, Marie."
When Marian, Carver, and I went to the thieves' hideout that evening, it was with a cart Leron had graciously let us borrow. And by graciously, I mean he kept a glare on us and threatened that should we let anything happen to it or the new cargo, that he'd do worse than dock our pay.
I wanted to punch his pretty sea grey eyes through his skull, but we just left, Carver toting the cart.
"Why am I doing this anyway?" he asked.
"Aren't you farm boy strong?" Carver grumbled at the shit eating grin I gave him, but surprisingly, didn't protest anymore.
The journey was uneventful, and while the bodies we had dumped in the ally were, in fact, gone, the building looked untouched. I felt a twinge of disappointment at the city guards' failure to investigate properly, until I reminded myself that their failings were currently to my benefit. While loading up, I managed to convince the siblings to allow me to take some handfuls of the spices.
"C'mon," I said, "We could never afford this, and you know it."
"All the more reason we shouldn't have it," Hawke argued.
"Would you listen to yourself? We can't have this because we're too poor? It's right here!" I shook the sack for emphasis.
Carver looked unsure, like he was wavering. "Isn't that stealing?"
"From who?" I snorted. "From Athenril? From the people we murdered?" I had to swallow down my thoughts on that. "The dead don't need it, and Athenril won't miss it. We're not taking the whole sack."
That convinced Carver, and Marian just sighed. "I... suppose. Don't make a habit out of it."
"'Course not! This isn't just to sell anyway, it's useful. Think of it like, a moral boost for your mouth!"
Carver scoffed at that, a smile on his face. Even Marian grinned a little, so I took that as my queue to separate some of each spice into the little pouches I'd brought.
Food was going to get so much better, at least, for a while.
It was weird to have Varric in on my secret. One day he even asked what sort of magic I was using that had made the deaths so obvious.
"Because let's be honest," he said, "No one would bat an eye if it looked like weapons or poison, and they couldn't cause the sort of damage found."
"You don't know?"
"My job does not consist of cleaning Kirkwall's streets. That's for the guards to do."
"That's so mean," I said, laughing.
"It's just the truth. Come on, do I have to guess? It has to be fire, right? Too many burned bodies and no fires?" He raised an eyebrow like it was an obvious conclusion.
"Nope. So nobody reported exactly what the bodies looked like? That's some shit reporting." Worked in my favor though. After all, I was a lot more careful using my magic, so snoops would have a much harder time determining which bodies had been killed with "unnatural" skills.
"You're telling me." He snorted. I could tell he was getting impatient though, so I smiled.
"I suppose, if you really don't know..." I laughed when he threw his hands up. "Okay, okay. Electricity."
"What?"
"Like lightning?"
"Oh. I didn't peg you for the stormy type." He smirked. "Shocking."
"Oh please, Varric." I rolled my eyes while holding back laughter. "You're just lucky I like you."
"I suppose so. Still, I just can't see you getting so angry."
I had to laugh at that. "Yeah, no one really can. I guess I'm just a naturally chill person." I shrugged at his raised eyebrow.
"I thought you said you used lightning."
"What? I do."
"Then why did you just say you're 'chill?'"
I couldn't help blushing at that. "That- it's just slang." Both his eyebrows were climbing up now. "Short language? Chill means that I'm calm, or relaxed."
"You sure have a lot of sayings I've never heard, even from other Fereldens," he said, shaking his head. I just scratched my nose.
"Yup. That's me. Weird phrases." I laughed uncomfortably.
"...Right." Ugh, the look he was giving me made my stomach clench, guilt weighing down my insides.
But I had already spilled one secret, right? Right. Even so, I was glad when he seemed to let it go, leaning back in his chair.
"Speaking of which, I've never heard any of your phrases in the merchant's guild either." Or maybe he was just stabbing from a different angle.
"What do you mean?" I asked, eyebrows furrowing, "Of course not. You know I don't hang out with them."
"I suppose I do. But then, you must 'hang out' with a lot of dwarves somewhere, or you did until recently."
I blinked. "I'm completely lost." Where was this coming from? What would make him think I had ever spent a lot of time around dwarves?
Varric just shook his head at me. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? You've got a dwarven accent."
"Huh? I do?" I thought over what I usually talked like, but couldn't find anything that might connect the two. "Are you sure? I don't think I've even called one person a nug-humper before."
He guffawed. "I would pay good money to see that."
I smiled back. "Find me someone I can get angry at." I thought of the kind of people I usually got mad at, and immediately retracted my statement. "Nevermind. I sound dwarven? Really?"
"It's less in terms of your... 'slang,' and more in the way you pronounce words." He really did pay attention to details. I was impressed.
Of course, that got me thinking on the local accents. I had noticed that the people here in Kirkwall had a slightly different British accent than Aveline and the Hawkes. I wasn't sure how to describe it, but the way they emphasized words and the lilts in their sentences were different. Especially in Lowtown, people tended to curve their sentences up at the end. The dwarves though... Varric was right. I hadn't run into very many, but the few I had did not have anything I considered to be an 'accent.' Did that mean my brain heard them as American? Granted, it was a different world with different cultures and geography, so they probably weren't directly comparable.
My short companion must have noticed the conclusion I came to. "You see?" he said, "Of course, it looks like you didn't notice it yourself."
"I really didn't. This is just the way... well, my family and friends talked. For the most part."
"Yet you lived in the middle of nowhere? I think my brother would have mentioned a town right on top of Orzammar."
"It wasn't." I fidgeted under his stare. He was really determined tonight.
I wasn't a very talkative person normally, and getting nervous only made me quieter. Roaming the tavern with my eyes, I spotted Norah cleaning a nearby table. The waitress was always kind to Varric, and by extension, me. I got the feeling she liked the fact that we respected her personal space and bothered to thank her for her work. Not that I could have done anything else. Working in both food and retail, you sympathized deeply with everyone else in a similar position. I wondered if she would help distract Varric if I looked distressed.
A cough from said dwarf caught my attention, and I made the mistake of looking at him. Never had I seen his eyes so intense. Maybe he'd finally gotten tired of wrestling small tidbits of info from me.
"I..." My mind pulled up images of my family, Ellen, my pets. I felt the world quiet down around me, like my awareness was pulling further into my head, or my soul was fading. I hadn't been able to figure out any way to get back, not even a hint of how to contact them. Resources weren't an option either, because I had no books, and wouldn't be able to read them anyways. I was just stuck here, doing work that made me more anxious than ever, and going 'home' to a place that didn't make it much better.
Feeling a hand on my arm, I looked up to see Varric's blurry face. Which was odd, considering he was closer now. Ah, I was tearing up. Since I wasn't in the mood to draw interest from drunks, I swiped the tears away before they could fall.
Now that I got a clear look at his face, I saw Varric had his mouth twisted down and his eyes looking me over. Despite his obvious care, he was also shuffling and aimlessly moving his free hand, like he wasn't sure what action to actually take.
Seeing that, I couldn't help but chuckle in the back of my throat. He really was awkward when it came to comforting. When he started to pull away, I panicked and blurted, "My home is really far away."
It had the intended effect. Varric stayed where he was, one hand still on my arm, though he looked more surprised. When his mouth opened I continued, not letting him speak.
"It wasn't in Ferelden... It, it was- is really far. And everyone in my country, well not everyone of course, it spans pretty far and there are regional-" I cleared my throat as his brows furrowed and got back on track. "Well, nearly everyone speaks with an accent like mine."
As if to prove me wrong, the many people who had accents from learning both English and another language came to mind, but I shoved the thought away. No reason to confuse Varric right now, and I wasn't sure how many people in Thedas bothered learning multiple languages.
The Orlesians had French accents, but did they actually speak French, or the Orlesian equivalent? Who knew?
Varric's near silent hum brought my attention back. "Not from Ferelden, huh?" He patted my arm awkwardly, and when I gave him a reassuring, if watery, smile, he moved back to his own seat.
"Lucky that you managed to leave when you did, then." I agreed fervently. "Now, what you were doing there is none of my business," he continued, and I stiffened at his implications, "But why would you flee here as a refugee? Why not continue home? Wherever that may be."
I opened my mouth a couple times, but wordless sighs were the only things I could get out. Finally I said, "You know I don't have any money. I was going to go home before... before I ran straight into the Blight..."
"Wait wait wait." Varric immediately leaned across the table. "You actually ran into Darkspawn? And survived? Your story gets more intriguing," he said, chuckling.
"It wasn't heroic, or anything," I protested, "I just, ran. And got super lucky."
"How so?" His excited smile made my heart jump.
"I... my family. My new family," I said, feeling a flush creep up my neck from my heart, "They rescued me. They were running from Lothering, and when we met we kinda ended up traveling together."
"Really?" Varric tapped a finger on the table. "I suppose even people with ah, perks need help getting away from the Blight."
"I guess. I'm not very good, so, I wouldn't know." I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. "I did help out a bit but..."
"But...?" Varric prompted as I made fish motions with my mouth. A nervous chuckle preceded my words.
"I probably should have realized that not everyone in the group would take to me being a mage. I just, I didn't know," I said, feelings edging into exasperation and defeat, "I used my magic without realizing it, and he-"
I closed my eyes, trying not to think of Ser Wesley's last moments. His accusations didn't bother me, not anymore, and I knew that the Darkspawn taint was not something that I could ever hope to fix. Still.
"Not everyone made it," I mumbled. "I only managed to save one person."
"That's one more that wouldn't be here, without you."
I sniffed back some lingering snot and returned Varric's small smile. He was right, of course. I knew, logically, I did the best I could at the time. I couldn't get discouraged with my slow progress learning magic. Most mages in Thedas discovered their gift as children. Catching up would require dedication on my part.
"Thanks, Varric."
"No problem." He was leaning back in his seat now, smile growing. "So, are you going to tell me all about your new family, or do I have to buy you another drink?"
Incredulous laughter burst out of my throat, shaking me as I leaned on the table, but I didn't decline the fresh mugs Norah placed down. There were still so many secrets I needed to keep. But... Ostagar, Lothering, the Hawke family, these I could tell.
"Right," I said, after a solid swig, "So this actually starts with the story, the real story, of Ostagar."
A/N: Hhhheeyyyyy. Long time, no see...? Hm. I guess it hasn't been too long, in the grand scheme of things. Still, I swore I was gonna get a chapter out during the summer... then didn't. Honestly, I think this was done during those months but, I just couldn't bring myself to do a final once-over. I'm sick of looking at it! Take it away! Haha, in all seriousness though, point out if something seems off. I just didn't want to read through it anymore.
And whew, I got through some important/necessary junk here, yeah? I guess I don't have much to say about this one, but hey! Look forward to the next chapter too! ...Which I am only partially done with. But it should be fun~
Next chapter: Secret shopping! Real shopping! Two dates that aren't actually dates?
