Dragon Age
"The Relic"
Chapter Five: Malcolm
Malcolm Hawke rode through the town of Herald at a casual walk. It wasn't particularly cold in the valley but Malcolm wore a long brown hooded cloak that had seen far too many rainy days. It was habit for him to wear it more than anything else. In or near Skyhold was usually safe but given who his father was it often behooved him to be as careful and inconspicuous as possible. His father, Anders, was still wanted throughout Thedas as the mage who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry and basically started the uprising that spawned the Mage-Templar War, but no one wanted him more than Starkhaven. Sebastian Vael in particular. Most of his life was spent in seclusion or hiding to protect the family, while he had done nothing wrong he was the perfect way to get to his father and his mother Tessa Hawke. As a mage, he also remained as inconspicuous as possible, going so far as to not use or carry a staff at all. Instead he was an extremely talented rogue. Skyhold was one place he knew he was safe; his entire family was since the Inquisitor provided sanctuary anytime they needed.
Herald was relatively quiet but that wasn't unusual for the early morning hour.
Kyp's big hooves squelched in the mud as they quietly passed through the sleeping town for the path up to Skyhold. Kyp was an impressive mount, used primarily in northeastern Fereldan as parade and medium cavalry horses, Amaranthine Chargers were by far the most impressive looking horses in all of Thedas. Big and black or dark brown with their big feathered feet and flowing mane and tail, Chargers were prime crowd control horses for their size and intimidating look especially in full armor.
Malcolm had acquired Kyp as a yearling from Dennett before he'd retired to Redcliffe. Malcolm had done most of the training but Thom ensured that the stallion was trained for combat.
At 16, nearly 17, he wasn't a part of the Inquisition but Skyhold gave him freedom from looking over his shoulder. He was born and raised for several years in the Korcari Wilds but had spent even more time living in Skyhold. He liked Skyhold, he liked the Inquisition.
By the time he'd reached the top of the mountain the sun had peaked over the jagged Frostbacks.
"Messer Hawke," a guard at the gate greeted putting the other one who didn't know who he was at ease, "welcome back."
Malcolm nodded and headed to the stables. He's been riding for weeks and Kyp could certainly use the rest. He took care of Kyp, making sure the black beast was settled before collecting his bag and heading up to the apartment wing.
Bree finished pulling her boots up when a knock came at her door. It was early so she wasn't sure who would be there. She was usually up at this time preparing to ride. When she opened the door she grinned happily, seeing who it was. "Malcolm!" she exclaimed and dove on him in a tight hug.
Malcolm let out a tired grunt but appreciated the gesture; he allowed a smile that mirrored how tired he was and put his free hand on her back. He had practically grown up with Bree and they were such good friends they told each other almost everything. They were terrors as kids, mischievous trouble makers from age 8 to now. "Hi, Bree," he said tiredly.
Malcolm was tall like his father, he nearly equaled his height of 6'2", and he had shaggy un-kept brown hair that was almost shoulder length, with the blue eyes of his mother. Despite his size and his imposing appearance he was often overlooked which is a great benefit for a rogue like him. "By the Maker, I think you got taller," she said. "Either that or I'm getting shorter." He chuckled at the comment and she stepped back from him with a twisted expression. "But you smell like a latrine."
He rolled his eyes as she invited him in. "I could smell worse," he replied and Bree snorted heading over to the trunk that was doubling as a table for her books next to an overstuffed chair. She heard him close the door as she moved the books to the chair to get into the trunk. "I've been riding for weeks…believe me I could smell worse."
She giggled and opened the trunk revealing a bag made of brown canvas. Malcolm's other bag that he usually left at Skyhold and entrusted to Bree. "Not by much." she replied and he gave her a sardonic smile before hoisting the hefty bag from the trunk to over his shoulder along with the other one. "I don't think your typical room is available."
"Yeah, I figured. Why are there so many people here?" he asked. Her birthday was in the next few days but that still didn't account for all the people he passed on the way in. Banners from Fereldan and Orlais numbered more than usual.
"Oh, well, you know…Council meetings, birthday, mom and dad trying to marry me off."
"Wait, what?" he asked quickly turning his head sharply.
Bree chuckled at his response; two weeks ago her parents told her that she was now being courted. Funny thing was, Bree though that it took two people to court not one courting and the other oblivious. It wasn't just one though, it was Prince Duncan from Fereldan and Prince Jean-Fredric from Orlais. She'd never met either one before but had heard a great deal about both of them. Duncan was a golden child renowned for his horsemanship and kindness and Jean-Fredric was the dashing, battle tested, Orlesian chevalier…enough said. "Oh yeah…" she replied with a chuckle. "I've got two Princes. Fereldan and Orlais…I think my Dad's heart might stop. The Fereldan one's here already."
"Two Princes…wow," he replied with a surprised tone. "Nice work, Bree. How wound up was your father?"
She chuckled. "Oh, well, let me put it this way, remember when you and I rode down the mountains and were halfway to the Hinterlands before we realized where the hell we were and by the time we got back to Skyhold your Dad and my Dad kinda melded into this Ander-Tevinter rage demon? Worse than that."
Malcolm bellowed laughter. "That's hard to do…as I recall your father was literally flaming."
"Mine? I thought yours was gonna fry me with lightening or turn me into an ice block," she laughed back and Malcolm sat down in the chair with a tired groan.
"You weren't alone in that…he probably would have done the same to me," he chuckled.
Bree chuckled softly and leaned back onto her dresser looking down at him. "You okay?" she asked and he nodded. He was tired and had things on his mind; all he wanted to do was sleep and forget about his argument with his father. The older he got they more they argued, it hurt, it really did. He loved his father; he admired his conviction, so constantly arguing with him was tough.
"Yeah…just…" he began and then retreated, "I'm gonna get bath." He stood once again hoisting the bags over his shoulder heading for the Bath House.
After a nice hot bath, Malcolm was still tired but with his room rented out he had nowhere to sleep and suspected that crashing in Bree's room would likely result in getting him killed by Khrys and Dorian. Until then he just stored his bag in Bree's room until he could talk to Khrys. His stomach growled for food as he ran his fingers through his wet hair letting the long brown locks fall where they may. He looked around Bree's room and found that it hadn't changed too terribly much. Things cluttered her dresser, trinkets, carvings, candles, candle holders…she had a hodgepodge of things from across Thedas decorating her room and tables. Fenris, Dorian, Khrys, Bull, and others brought all sorts of things back from their travels as gifts for her. He remembered when she'd get a gift every time someone returned.
She loved horses and that was what was found the most in her room, sculptures, drawings, stitching, and all kinds of stuff. In spite of how Dorian talked about and warned her off of Tevinter she was curious about it. A land that was ruled by mages with a proud history, their valiant efforts against the Qunari, and all their black marks but her curiosity about it showed; as many Tevinter relics as she could find littered her room along with the horses and the Elven décor and trinkets. His eyes fell on her bed, the quilt and furs looked comfortable but if the father of a 15 year old caught him in her bed with or without her he'd likely kill him no matter how well they got along.
Malcolm sighed heavily, blinked a few times to wake himself up and straightened his clothes before walking out. The fortress was like home to him almost as much home as the Wilds felt, seeing all the old faces was nice.
The first person Malcolm found was Fenris; he'd heard hundreds of stories about the anti-mage Lyrium Warrior that antagonized his father for years. 'Hypocrite' is what Anders called him, to be so against magic and dislike mages simply because they were mages and then to discover his sister was a mage.
Malcolm liked him, Fenris was honest, if nothing else, distrustful of mages so Malcom returned the favor and was blunt and honest with the Elf who seemed to appreciate it. Unless someone knew his horse or spoke to Bree no one knew he was there.
Fenris closed the door leading to the Inquisitor's chamber behind him quietly. His morning checking with Khrys as he usually did, he was her bodyguard when he wasn't in far flung areas of Thedas, when he wasn't present Michel did the rest. As he moved past the Inquisition 'throne' he fiddled with the silver gauntlets of his black armor and didn't see the figure before him until he nearly walked right into him. "Malcolm," Fenris greeted with some surprise in his voice. "When did you get here?"
"One bath ago," he replied with a chuckle as he shook the Elf's hand. "Back for Bree's birthday and to talk to Khrys."
Fenris may have hated, or at the very least had an extreme dislike for Anders, but he found that he liked Malcolm. He acted a lot like Tess which was easier for him to handle and he didn't act like a typical mage.
"Cullen asked me to help train one of his groups, if you wish to join," Fenris offered. Malcolm liked to train, he always had and he learned from everyone. He was a unique young man but not just as a mage or a rogue. There was something about the Healer that Fenris couldn't put his finger on, something about him that seemed off or strange. Maybe it was the fact a mage like him trained as a rogue, a walking contradiction.
"Yeah," he said eagerly. "I need to talk to Khrys first but I picked up a few new moves that I'd like to work against you if you don't mind."
Fenris nodded to him. "She's upstairs," he said comfortable enough with Malcolm to tell him where the unguarded Inquisitor was.
The breeze carried through the room with both balcony doors open, it was actually warm in Skyhold, meaning it was somewhere near 50. It was colder at night but when the sun was out it was quite pleasant. Khrys was sifting through a stack of papers on her desk and sighed. More reports and letters were coming in now than ever in the last month. Skyhold was set to receive dozens of party attendees for Bree's 16th birthday. Basically her 'coming out' ball as Josephine put it; Dorian of course despised putting that label on it. It was amusing to a degree watching the magister fret over this but she understood is worry. The Ball wasn't the only thing going on, deciding to roll the Ball and the meeting all in one meant that Skyhold was about to be the busiest and most well-guarded fortress in all of Thedas.
The pile of letters upon letters upon letters that had stacked up as she ignored the majority of them had finally subdued her and she started to go through them.
Malcolm got to the top of the steps and heard her humming to herself, recognizing the Dalish tune she liked to sing. He smiled to himself letting the tune bring back some happy memories.
Khrys turned, feeling the presence of another behind her and smiled. "Malcolm!" she grinned dropping the papers on the desk and bounded to him for a hug. Malcolm had gotten taller but she was always short and tiny so everyone was taller than her. "Are your parents here?"
Malcolm shook his head. "I left early," he said with a smile and returned her embrace. "They should be here tomorrow or the next day. I wanted to talk to you."
"Straight to business?" she questioned and took a step back from him looking him up and down. "Let me get a look at you."
Malcolm took a half a step back from her and set his arms out to the side as if placing himself on display. "Ma neuven, Inquisitor."
"Ma nuvenin," she corrected with a smile. "You never could get Elvish right," she added and returned to her observation of him. "Wow…look at you…you look so much like your father." Despite her and his father's clashing, Malcolm took that as a compliment and wore it proudly like any son who looked up to their father would have. "Have you seen Bree? She'll be overjoyed to have you back for a while. You are staying a while, right?"
Malcolm gave a nondescript nod. "Yes I saw her and as for me staying…that's what I wanted to talk to you about." Khrys gave the quiet young man her full attention. "I want to join the Inquisition," he announced without beating around the bush.
Khrys honestly couldn't say she was surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked.
Malcolm had given this a lot of thought and scoffed. "Nothing else for me to do, I don't want to be a Warden, I'm a mage so Seeker and Templar is out, I want nothing to do with the Mage College…either of them. I want to work, Skyhold is like home to me…I want to be a part of the Inquisition for as long as it lasts," he concluded, he was well spoken and straightforward, something most people liked about him. Most never knew he spent half is life among the Chasind. "Both Cullen and Charter said they could use me."
Khrys leaned back on her desk, half sitting on it, thinking. Malcolm was potentially an exceptional agent, a mage and a rogue, a healer and a killer, someone who could balance both of those things was incredibly rare. Trained in magic by his father and mother, and his rogue training from the Crow assassin Zevran Arainai and from her very own version of an assassin, Cole; he was a fine horseman, followed orders and had a mind for the arcane. Anyone of her senior staff could use him, from Morrigan to Cullen. He was only 16 though, a bit young, but she knew agents far younger had been recruited against Corypheus.
"What do your parents say?" she asked and Malcolm snorted.
"Stay away from Templars," he joked and Khrys snorted.
"Cullen's a Templar," Khrys stated and Malcolm offered her a smile.
"Former, 'He's the harmless one.' Verbatim from my father," he said and Khrys laughed out loud.
"And your father's razor whit," she chuckled. "Don't tell Cullen he's 'harmless'…he'll use you as a practice dummy, I guarantee it. He's pretty good with throwing knives," she informed and Malcolm could see that. Even with his deteriorating state he was still the best warrior the Inquisition had. "Have you asked your parents about this?"
"Spoke to mom…" he said and then fell a little quieter, "Dad is…Dad's a little harder to uhh…for me to talk to." Malcolm loved his father but for some reason unknown to anyone outside that family there was a fundamental breakdown in conversation between them. Which was extremely odd. They were Healers, they had the same morals, same humor, it was a logical assumption that they got along but they didn't, and it was almost heartbreaking to watch. "I figured that you'd be able to smooth anything over with them if you accepted."
She decided right there, she could use Malcolm and he needed a place to belong and find his path. "Alright, Malcolm Garrett Hawke, welcome to the Inquisition," she smiled and the young stoic mage smiled to her. "I'll pair you with other agents for a while and we'll see who can use you more."
Malcolm smiled, happy that she said yes. "Thank you, Khrys," he said genuinely, feeling that he had somewhere to belong to now was almost too much for him.
"Don't thank me yet," she warned and walked up to him. "Could be sent to the furthest edges of Thedas for weeks at a time."
"As if I don't do that anyway," he replied and she chuckled with a nod.
"Fair enough," she said and looked him up and down. "You look tired."
Malcolm sighed. "Very much so," he replied tiredly.
It occurred to Khrys that he didn't have a room. "And I rented your room…sorry." Malcolm shook his head as Khrys gestured to her couch. "You're welcome to it."
Malcolm offered her a nod. "Maybe later, Fenris said he was training…I wanted to join."
A smile spread across her face; that was typical of him, Malcolm didn't like to sit idle, not one bit. He was a focused, driven, quiet man but everyone felt something odd about him. He trained and trained at all hours to be the best at everything he could be. As a mage, he was extremely adept at creation magic, just like his father he was a born healer, but his destruction side was just as finely tuned. Mastering lightening and the force discipline at a young age. As a rogue, he was a whirling dervish practically dancing through his targets with extraordinary grace, like watching Cole, so light with the touch and eerily precise. "Might have known," she smiled. "When you're finished with them and you want to sleep come up here and use the couch. I'll find you a room."
Malcolm nodded, satisfied in his task. It went better than he thought it would, he was expecting to have to talk her into it. He was thankful he didn't have to though; Khrys was always able to see right through him and find the root of the issue. This wasn't about his father…it was about finding his own way. Though what his father thought weighed on him and he thought about that as he headed back down the steps.
Skyhold was busier than it usually was, as the Inquisition Headquarters it was always busy with couriers, military officials, ambassadors, agents, and that was just for Inquisition business. Skyhold wasn't technically a noble house but it had all the popularity of it so nobles wanting to kiss the Inquisitions ass did so by trying to kiss Khrys' ass. Malcolm wasn't used to so many people crowding the Keep and decided that he really didn't like it. He wasn't used to being around too many people, since he was little he was raised with very few people.
"Oh!" Cole exclaimed happily stopping Malcolm in his tracks as he almost walked into him. "Hello! They're back," he said looking at Malcolm and the mage shook the spirit's hand as Cole babbled in his own way. "Quieter. Softer. More harmonious…as it should be, like a Chantry Choir," he said quickly. "Your father didn't mean it."
Malcolm's discomfort with the topic was plainly evident and Cole snapped out of what he couldn't control. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. You're hurting; I want to help the hurts."
He understood, probably better than most. "I know, Cole, but I'm okay," he assured letting Cole's hand go. The pair got along extremely well; it was both incredible and eerie at the same time. Cole finished the rogue's training expanding on Zevran's early lessons creating a deadly weapon in the form of a man. Both Cole and Malcolm had an eerie level headedness to them.
Before he headed down to training he made a detour to the stables, he spent a lot of time with his horse so the Charger basically lived better than he did. He'd ridden all night over rough terrain; his horse was his prized possession. He let a smile spread across his face seeing a familiar man by the stables tending to an obviously Antivan bred Taslin Strider. Hot-blooded horses that he never really liked, he appreciated their spirit but he preferred a horse that was a little mellower and not as hard a keeper.
"Malcolm," Thom greeted with a grin stepping away from the gleaming chestnut mare. "I thought that was Kyp in the stables."
The burly man stepped up to him and Malcolm smiled. "Thom," he replied as they clasped arms in friendship.
"Welcome back," he said and looked the young man up and down. "You look exhausted, son."
Malcolm scoffed and kept walking as the stocky senior agent paced him. "That's a polite way of saying I look like shit," he chuckled tiredly.
Thom chuckled as Malcolm snatched an apple from a basket watching him causally toss it in the air then check it for bruises. "Well, you do."
"I rode all night…no place to sleep until Khrys finds me something more permanent," he said taking a bite out of the apple. Malcolm entered the stables and crossed quickly to the stall Kyp was in. "Hey, you," he said quietly and offered the black beast the rest of the apple.
"You spoil him," he stated and Malcolm chuckled to that.
"He's a good boy," Malcolm replied and patted his neck.
Thom's observation of Malcolm made him cant his head. Malcolm was naturally a quiet man, very reserved and typically kept to himself but his manner right now was different. Like something was weighing on him. "You alright, Son?"
Malcolm was getting tired of being asked that. He really needed to figure out how to hide his 'troubled, deep in thought expression'. "Yeah," he sighed and put on a smile that was decidedly unconvincing. "I'm just tired…but if I sleep now I'll be up all night." This became a little more awkward that he'd expected. "I'm going to go help Cullen and Fenris train. I want to look at his feet later."
Thom let the young man avoid whatever was bothering him and looked down at Kyp's feet but nodded. "I could look at them for you," he offered but Malcolm shook his head, Thom knew he'd say no. Malcolm liked to tend to his horse personally, he always had.
Training a small group that was a mixture of regular army and agents was business as usual for Skyhold, they always needed small companies to scout and go on covert assignments. They had some special training to go through first since the Inquisition was filled with a hodgepodge of people from very different backgrounds. Templars, Mages, Wardens, Assassins, the list went on. Mostly everyone got along but there was still the lingering animosity between Templars and Mages that needed to be addressed before anyone went out on a mission and the fur flew.
Cullen couldn't believe his luck, Fenris was one thing, quite possibly the most dangerous person in the Inquisition…maybe even the world, but now he had Malcolm. Malcolm was a perfect training tool to show anyone new that things aren't always as they seem. So now, Cullen watched as Malcolm systematically tore down each opponent with dull blades. It was almost laugh out loud funny.
Malcolm did away with just using his daggers and released a small burst of force power to shove the tall warrior back from him. It wasn't enough to hurt him but it was enough to knock him on his ass. Cullen's teaching point came to fruition.
The tall warrior took offense and sprang to his feet looking like he was ready to kill Malcolm for the insult of catching him off guard. "You're a Mage?" he snapped but the answer was blatantly obvious. Malcolm said nothing in response but was clearly ready for anything the warrior was about to do. He had a focus that no one else could match in a fight, Cullen had noticed that years ago, and it added to the eerily strange feeling about Malcolm as a whole.
"Alright," Cullen began ending anything that might happen, "that's enough. Yes, Malcolm is a mage." The group was stunned, rather hilariously, and Cullen and Fenris could see it. Fenris was something that was unique and a bitch to fight against, good to train people against but Malcolm was the very definition of 'don't judge a book by its cover'. "Nothing is as it seems in the Inquisition."
The group had two former Templars in it and they didn't have a clue. One of them, a blonde woman looked almost offended by it. "A mage? You said he was a rogue?"
"Malcolm is both. He is a skilled assassin but also a very gifted mage," Cullen stated stepping down to them. "If you're going to be part of a scouting company you will all have to learn how to deal with the unexpected and if you have a problem with mages…you're going to have to learn how to handle that too," he added directing the last part to the blonde Templar woman.
"Yes, Commander," she responded with a sharp nod and Cullen looked her up and down then at the rest before turning to Malcolm.
"Malcolm and Fenris are just two of the most unique members of the Inquisition we have. You're being brought from the Templar order, the army, and recruited agents…better get used to things not being as they seem. That'll be all today," their Commander finished and then turned from them patting Malcolm's shoulder. "Thank you, Malcolm."
Malcolm allowed a stoic smile and nodded at him, he was uncomfortable with the way the blonde Templar was looking at him and let her depart first before turning his back on her. "My pleasure, Cullen," he said finally and visibly relaxed.
"You've gotten much better since last I saw you," Cullen commented as he walked with him.
Malcolm tried not to scoff at that. He'd practiced since the last time Cullen watched him fight, he may have been young but he had encountered many fights in his time, bandits, assassins, hunters looking for his father. "Yeah…" he said drawing out the word. "I've had a few occasions to use it."
"I see," Cullen replied. "The Inquisitor told me she accepted your request to join. Welcome to the Inquisition," he said and offered his hand to him.
Malcolm paused and shook the Commander's hand. "Thank you."
As Cullen gave him a sharp nod and took his leave Fenris took his place next to Malcolm. "Cullen's right, you have gotten better," he commented. "Who have you been practicing on?"
Malcolm shrugged, he was okay telling Cullen and Fenris and a few others in the Inquisition this but he still had to be careful. There was still an open warrant on his father from Starkhaven. "Bounty Hunters sent by the Prince. Three of them found me in the Wilds last year; somehow they knew who I was and demanded I take them to my father…"
Fenris knew how that ended. "Three…you have gotten good."
Malcolm sighed, he wasn't ashamed for what he did; he protected his family. "Fenris, I didn't just kill them, I sent a message. Left their bodies at the edge Wilds…I don't know why."
Fenris studied the young man with a furrowed brow and curious expression. Malcolm never struck him and the squeamish type, he did what needed to be done, of course he wasn't there for everything but so far his judgement of his character had been spot on. He had Tess' work ethic but his father's annoying sense of humor. "Because you're not a murderer, Malcolm."
"I could have just left them in the woods and no one would have found them," he added and sounded almost frustrated with himself over this lack of understanding something that he did.
Fenris wasn't a counselor and didn't pretend to be. "I don't know," he replied simply. "You did what you had to do to protect your family."
"It's not the first time I've killed, I'm not worried about that," Malcolm sighed and switched off that subject as he ran his right hand through this mop of unkempt hair. "Guess it's a bad time to mention that after moving the hunters' bodies I sent a letter to Sebastian saying 'Better luck next time.'?"
Fenris actually laughed out loud to that, that definitely sound like something Anders would do and therefore something that his son would do as well. "I imagine that did not please, Sebastian."
Malcolm chuckled and scratched his forehead. "No, I suppose not," he replied, his airy chuckle reminding Fenris of Anders.
Dorian was in his usual haunt in Skyhold, the library was one of his two favorite places to be, the other was the tavern. The little alcove by the stairs was still claimed by him, stacks of books resided by the big chair by the window, bottles of wine, most of them empty, were neatly collected in the same area. To Dorian's credit the majority of those were accumulated over the span of months. He'd only started picking up his wine drinking habit again now that Bree was older. He'd gone from normal habit of usually a bottle a few times a week to one maybe two in a month when she was born. She heard him sigh heavily as he faced the window turning pages in the book his was poring over.
Dorian felt a hand slip around his waist and drift dangerously far south. "Aren't you a delight," he heard Khrys say with a mischievous tone. She was teasing him, typical of her.
Dorian didn't move and kept reading, he was used to her teasing him. "Unless you are a stunningly handsome Elf named Balian, please don't go there," he grumbled sounding a little more irritated than usual.
Khrys giggled and moved next to him to see what he was doing. "You really miss him don't you?" she asked, the question was rhetorical. "How long's it been since you saw him last?"
"Nearly a year," he grumbled with a curt tone.
Khrys grimaced sympathetically. "Oh, honey, we've got to fix that," she said and put a hand on his shoulder. "He'd come here if you asked him."
Dorian huffed closing the book and eyed her sharply. "I did," he replied shortly beginning to get annoyed. "Balian serves Starkhaven."
"He serves Sebastian," she clarified. "You deserve to be with the person you love," she added and he pushed her hand off his arm.
Dorian was growing annoyed with this line of conversation. "I am. I have Bree and you and Balian when we're in the same vicinity."
"Dorian-…" she began but he cut her off with a huff.
"Can we not talk about this?" he asked but his tone was firm in that it wasn't a request.
Khrys sighed eyeing him, irritated with his behavior toward his relationship with Balian. He did love him and they were perfect together but his insistence to deny the idea that he needed to be with him was infuriating to everyone else around him. "Have it your way," she gave in with a sigh. "I do have one bit of news you might be interested to hear."
Dorian opened the book again thumbed to the place he was before he'd hastily closed it. "If it's another letter from some damn nation asking for my daughter's hand in marriage you can burn it, Khrys," he replied and she chuckled lightly.
"Fortunately, Josie's intercepting all of those." she smiled and he gave her a mock glare. "Malcolm's back…and he asked to join the Inquisition."
Dorian stopped reading and turned to her giving her his attention. "He what?" he asked and sounded a bit surprised at that.
"I think he and Anders had another fight," she said quietly and Dorian closed the book placing it back on the table.
Dorian huffed loudly at that. Malcolm and Anders fighting…no surprise there but it irritated Dorian, Malcolm was a good kid and no one knew why he and Anders fought like they did. "What did you say?"
"I said yes," she said and Dorian cocked his head narrowing his eyes, but she stopped him before he could ask his next question. "He's 16 and he already scouts on his own and he has a multitude of talents…I figure what's was the harm?"
Dorian shrugged with a sarcastic snort. "Oh…I don't know…he could be killed," he tossed out and Khrys sighed.
Khrys groaned, she loved his fatherly side but at times it was the most annoying thing about him. "Dorian, would you turn off the 'father to every child in Skyhold' feature for a moment?" she asked and he grudgingly nodded with a sigh. "He's looking for somewhere to belong but I think you should talk to him…make sure he's making this decision because he wants to not because of any problems there are between he and Anders."
He scratched his head. "You want me to talk him out of it?" he asked and she shook her head sharply.
"Creators no...Someone as versatile as him I could use," she said and he nodded understanding what she was talking about now.
He sighed heavily knowing why she wanted him to talk to Malcolm. Most of the children in Skyhold took a shine to Dorian, he had a way about him, and they responded to him and respected his authority. When he spoke they listened and when he barked an order they mostly obeyed. Both Dorian and Cullen had inadvertently become the Skyhold 'fathers', Cullen's presence alone was enough to command all but his own children as it seemed. Dorian's presence was different but the bottom line was that if a kid came to him for any reason he'd care for it, he passed out gifts and played games with them. He taught Malcolm how to play Chess and they bonded over years of playing the game.
"Thank you," she said with a smile and stepped up to him kissing his right cheek before leaving. "And…talk to Balian…please," she added before stepping out of sight.
Dorian grumbled at the last request and picked the book up again glowering at the spine. This book was supposed to have some insight into what they could do for Cullen but so far it had been nothing more than a dry read.
At Khrys' request, Dorian made his way into the stables finding Malcolm where he usually spent his time; he doted on that Charger like it was his own baby. The teenager's stoic demeanor was a foil to his outgoing and talkative father.
With all the people coming to Skyhold lately he was actually pleased to see Malcolm, the kid was intriguing. He was a skilled rogue and a gifted mage but there was something strange about him, something Dorian couldn't quite place, nevertheless, he like him.
"Malcolm," Dorian announced making noise so he didn't spook the black beast who's feet Malcolm was picking.
Malcolm looked up from Kyp's right hind foot quickly then returned to his task finishing it up. "Hi, Dorian," he replied and let Kyp's foot go.
"Welcome back," he smiled as Malcolm stood up straight and shook his hand firmly.
Malcolm nodded at the mage before him. "Thank you," he smiled genuinely. "It's good to be back."
Dorian watched him go back to tending the muscled black Charger busily munching on hay. Malcolm didn't like beating around the bush and appreciated people getting right to the point with him, Dorian respected that. "Khrys tells me you might be back for good," he stated and leaned against the post. "You joined the Inquisition?"
Malcolm decided that Kyp's feet were fine and traded the hoofpick for a stiff bristle brush; he'd always been able to talk to Dorian. The mage was a master at being a father no matter what kid he was talking to. He nodded and looked at him "Yeah," he replied and seemed happy about his decision. "I think it'll be a good fit."
Dorian couldn't help but play the fatherly role here. "Umm…I have to ask…are you sure?" he asked. "You've seen what happens, what can happen. Things go wrong, people get hurt, killed, captured."
Malcolm shrugged, he honestly wasn't worried about that, he never had been. "Dorian, I've always been out there…scouting, on my own, with the Chasind…others. I know the Korcari Wilds like the back of my hand thanks to all the time I've spent alone out there."
Dorian sighed heavily. "Are you doing this because of your father?" he asked bluntly and Malcolm paused in his task of grooming Kyp's shiny black coat. He sighed heavily enough it could almost be considered a huff and Dorian observed the young man; he reminded him of himself when he was younger, the situation wasn't the same…in fact no one knew why Malcolm and Anders clashed like they did.
He shook his head and turned to him. "No," he answered and Dorian believed him. "He won't be pleased but I did talk to mom about this. She'll smooth it out."
"Malcolm, you know if there's anything you need you can always come to me," Dorian said and his tone reflected that he only wanted to help.
The young mage smiled warmly and nodded at him. "I know," he replied in a sincere tone. Dorian had always been there to help, almost as much as his own father but they never fought, that was the benefit of Dorian. He didn't judge him for things he couldn't control. "Thank you, Dorian."
Dorian stood up straight from his position casually leaning on the post satisfied with his talk. Khrys didn't want him to talk him out of it but she did want to know if the interest was genuine. To Dorian it was but only time would tell in that regard, however, he really didn't want to be present if Anders hit the roof over this. "You should sleep. You look tired," he commented and Malcolm stopped in mid brush stroke, he had a running tally in his head of how many times people had told him that today.
"Well, Bree offered her bed…can I sleep there?" he asked and knew the response he was going to get. Dorian was halfway out the door when that question floated to his ears and froze sharply turning his head back to Malcolm his expression a mix of amusement and irritation. Malcolm simply chuckled. "Kidding, Dorian."
Dorian lingered a moment before tossing a single 'Ha!' over his shoulder as Malcolm's chuckle followed him.
Finished with Kyp he stepped away and leaned on the railing for a horse a few stalls down. He was unfamiliar to him situated next to Dragon, definitely a Courser, young and very striking. "Who are you?" he asked the horse in a quiet tone as the stallion nosed him curiously. Malcolm stepped into the stall and ran his hands over the horse. Whoever owned him had an excellent eye, he was still partial to Chargers but Coursers were exceptional war horses.
"Can I help you?" a voice asked from behind him.
Malcolm pivoted slightly as he ran his hand down the right front leg. "Who are you?"
The man was about his age, about 5'10 shaggy brown hair that was better kept than his and had sort of a regal look about him. "Who are you?" he asked and Malcolm scoffed.
"I asked you first," Malcolm replied.
"Technically, I asked you first," he countered as Malcolm snorted.
"No, you asked if you could help me, which you can't," he corrected as the young man huffed.
"Duncan Theirin," he answered with an irritated tone.
Malcolm turned to face him completely and furrowed his brow looking him up and down. "As in the Fereldan Prince?" he asked and Duncan nodded, Malcolm took a moment then shrugged and turned away patting the horse.
"That's it?" Duncan asked a little confused by his reaction, so far everyone had falling over themselves to do his bidding or stay in his good graces but not this man. This man was tall, well built, shaggy un-kept hair, blue eyes, and didn't seem to give a damn about being in the presence of the heir to Fereldan. "Not going to fall on one knee and pledge yourself to a Prince?"
Malcolm scoffed. "Not my Prince," he replied and Duncan narrowed his expression, that was a switch and he watch him turn from his horse and come out of the stall to face him.
Duncan snorted and shrugged. "Fair enough."
"Malcolm Hawke," he introduced extending his hand.
"A pleasure" he replied with a firm handshake. "He's mine," he added pointing to Raider.
Malcolm took his hand away from him and looked over his shoulder toward the Courser. "A fine animal, watch his back though…he's a little sore."
"Long ride from Denerim," Duncan replied and Malcolm could appreciate that. The ride from the wilds was about as long and hard too, which was one reason he kept a close eye on Kyp.
"I hear that," he agreed. "So you're the reason I don't have a bed?"
Duncan's brow furrowed, the room he'd been given had the feel of someone else and it must have belonged to him. "Sorry about that," he apologized and Malcolm shrugged like it was nothing, Duncan was pleased with Malcolm's casual behavior toward him.
"If you're the Prince of Fereldan that means you're the one they want Bree to marry," he stated and Duncan didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure of Malcolm yet, so far the atmosphere was relaxed between them but they had just met.
"You know Bree?" he asked and Malcolm stepped over to a black Charger that was impressive to say the least.
"I've known Bree since we could barely walk," he said and finished up checking the stallion for the night.
Duncan raised his eyebrows, Bree and Malcolm grew up together. He laced his hands behind his back and cocked his head to him. "Really?" he asked as Malcolm left his horse's stall. "Do you have a problem with it?"
Malcolm sighed and faced him directly. "It's not my place, but I care about Bree, fortunately…if Khrys or Dorian don't like you I won't have to worry about it," he stated with a snort and a half smile.
Duncan was still not sure what to think of Malcolm, he had a cavalier attitude toward him and that was the best thing about this conversation. "You know you're the first person that I've met in a very long time that hasn't fallen all over themselves to cater to me just because I'm a Prince."
Malcolm chuckled and shrugged. "That's the benefit of me not giving a shit," he responded cheerily and that made Duncan laugh.
"You sound Fereldan," Duncan commented as they casually started walking out of the stables.
"My fathers from the Anderfels, my mother's a Free Marcher, and I was born in Fereldan…I don't care about Kings, Emperors, and Princes," he stated and Duncan nodded, he could understand that. "Now I don't know about you, My Prince, but I'm starving," he added and Duncan scoffed shaking his head at the intentional teasing.
Duncan chuckled and nodded. "I am always hungry, Malcolm," he replied as his stomach growled. "Warden blood."
Malcolm looked over at the young prince while they walked. He'd only ever heard of the Warden Prince, the Miracle Child, the only child born to two Wardens, the list went on of the things he'd heard the poor kid called. Having all those awful nicknames would aggravate the hell out of him so if Duncan hadn't left a body count behind him after 17 years of being called all those names he had way more patience than he did. Duncan seemed to be a good guy and Malcolm trusted Dorian and Khrys. He was certain that if Dorian didn't like him Duncan wouldn't be anywhere near Skyhold or Bree. He wasn't sure how he felt about him right now but it was good to have someone else besides Bree that was his age.
As soon as Malcolm's head hit the pillow on the couch in Khrys' room he passed out, he was falling down exhausted and eating supper was the final nail in the coffin. As soon as he ate that was it, he was starving and ate more than he normally did and almost didn't make it up the steps to pass out on the couch but as soon as he found it that was all she wrote. He didn't even hear Khrys and Michel have an hour long conversation on the balcony with Fenris, Dorian showing up to bitch a little more about how out of hand his daughter's birthday party was becoming, and the fact that there was a suitor in the Keep no matter how much he liked him.
No one really cared about carrying on a conversation around Malcolm's sleeping body, the kid notoriously slept like a rock. Bree could be awoken by a feather falling from the ceiling but Malcolm could sleep through a damn invasion.
The one thing that they all noticed was Malcolm was still armed while he slept. Fenris could guarantee that if something went sideways the mage/rogue would be the first to the defense; he had an eerie sixth sense people picked up on. Dorian hated that Malcolm slept armed; he'd lived his life on the run in the Wilds with his parents, and the only safe place he'd ever been was Skyhold but still he slept armed.
The sun came through the stained glass on the balcony doors and warmed Malcolm's face while he slept. He didn't snore and that was a blessing to Khrys and Michel who never heard the kid stir at all through the night. Not only did he sleep all night but through late in the morning, unusual for him as he was a very early riser most of the time.
His dreams were usually unpleasant, very strange ever since he was a kid, old battles that were before his time, dreams of spirits and demons the likes of which he could never truly comprehend. There was a tickling on his face which was strange given the dream he was in the middle of. Feathers seemed rather out of place while he dreamed of spirits and demons. He stirred and batted at what was tickling his face and waking himself up in the process.
He heard a familiar giggle and opened one bleary eye. The woman crouched down by the couch was familiar indeed. She had long brown hair that draped down over her shoulders, pale, clean skin, and the crisp blue eyes that he had inherited. It was his mother, Tess, the Champion of Kirkwall. He groaned and blinked a few times trying to rid the sleep from them.
"Mom," he grunted then yawned.
"Rise and shine," she giggled as only a mother could giggle.
He shifted on the couch and rubbed his face. "Where's Dad?"
"Here," he heard his father's all too familiar voice say from outside his field of vision causing him to crane his head back to find it. "You ran away from us, Mal, how long have you been here?"
Malcolm sat up and stretched his back. Dorian said this couch was comfortable but Malcolm disagreed, it wasn't bad but he'd slept on more comfortable planks. It wasn't that the couch was hard it was the exact opposite…it was too soft. He was used to sleeping on the ground and on bed rolls, feather beds hurt his back. "Early yesterday morning," he replied and cleared his throat.
Anders raised his eyebrows and looked over at him. "Well, you made good time," he chuckled. To be perfectly honest Anders and Tess took their time. Ever since they met they had a hard time keeping their hands off each other. Malcolm was glad to ride ahead.
According to everyone who knew him before he was born, his father hadn't changed at all. He was still ruggedly handsome, with his shaggy blonde hair without a hint a grey, whiskey colored eyes, and his impressive stature. The only thing different about him now was that he was far more sane, there was no longer a spirit within him that was slowly driving him mad. He still had his sense of humor and that was something they shared besides the innate healing and height.
His father appeared as he always did to him, he had his long black leather coat, a blue shirt, black trousers, and tall, supple black leather boots. He had a knife on his right hip, a satchel full of healing tonics and bandages on the left, and his legendary staff Freedom's Call on his back. Malcolm had always aspired to be like his father; he stood up for what was right damning the consequences. He started the Circle uprisings which started the Mage-Templar War. Malcolm looked up to him for his convictions and tried to match them.
His mother wore what she usually did while traveling; she was still the Champion of Kirkwall and hadn't found any better armor than what the city had given her after she defeated the Arishok in single combat. Tessa was who he learned all his force abilities from, the magic discipline that was unique to the Kirkwall circle was something Tessa, an apostate, figured out how to master. He was nowhere near her caliber but he was still young and his power was only increasing.
"Kyp and I always travel fast alone," Malcolm replied and tugged his boots on while surveying the room. "What time is it?"
"Late morning…after 10, I think," Anders answered as Malcolm stood collecting daggers.
"I shouldn't have slept that long," he commented as he straightened his clothes to look at least somewhat presentable.
"What are you doing sleeping up here anyway?" Tess asked as she stepped around him to straighten the collar on his shirt.
"Khrys gave my room to the Fereldan Prince," he answered and Anders nodded turning away from his son.
"It's good to know Skyhold hasn't changed much," Anders said and moved toward one of the balcony doors. "Security is a little tighter than I remember though."
"Sebastian is supposed to be in today," Malcolm informed explaining at least part of the reason Cullen and Thom's men were on high alert.
Anders smiled like he had just accepted a challenge. "Ahh…my favorite pious Prince," he cackled like he was hatching a scheme. Skyhold was safe ground for him, Khrys made it abundantly clear that Sebastian's open warrant for Anders was void in the Keep and anyone who laid a hand on the mage would land in the Inquisition dungeon and that included the Prince himself. "Well, birthday party and Council meeting aside…this should be fun to watch."
