.xix.
A massive crack of thunder wakes Hawke from her sleep.
It takes several disconcerting moments to ascertain where she is the complete darkness. Outside, a storm rages, far more intense than the ones in Ferelden that came in late spring, ushering in the summer heat. And it is close. When she remembers where she is and why she is there, she watches for the bright flash of light, and counts for the thunder, noting that the time in the between the two is quickly shortening. Then she tries to create her own lightning, paltry bolts, if they can even be called that, arcing weakly between her fingers. She can feel the magic in herself, she simply cannot reach it. It's a frustrating feeling. She thinks back to childhood, hiding from Templars in yet another small farming town, willing herself not to perform a single feat of magic. She was to blame for the last move, when she had set a boy's shirt on fire for bullying Carver. Nobody had seemed to appreciate the gesture; not the bully (who ran into the lake and then had to be rescued, as he could not swim), or Carver (who had insisted he would have been able to deal with it himself), nor her parents (who then quickly arranged to leave the city by nightfall when the boys parents began to question how this fire had been started).
After that event, she told herself she would not use magic again, not unseat her family and risk their safety again. She had managed to last a full week before magic poured out of her uncontrollably one night at dinner, sharp hoar frost engulfing the table, and their meals. Her father had laughed, he always laughed, no matter the situation, he could find the comedy in it, and told her that it was unwise for mages to pent up their power like that. That it was unwise to keep anything pent up, because eventually, it would all come tumbling out when you least wanted it to.
Thinking of the past, of her family, brings unbidden emotion to the surface and she tries to fight it. 'Father was right,' she thinks, and no longer can she hold back her grief. Sobs escape her throat, strangled, and thankfully muted under the din of the massive storm. Each thunderclap shakes the small, closet sized room around her as she weeps, the curtain that serves for some semblance of a door twitching with the force of the vibrations. She does not mean to, she has always heard that crying when you're upset will make you feel better, but that has never been the case for her. It always makes her feel worse, pathetic and weak, so she covers her sadness with laughter and foolish jokes. But now there's no one around to laugh with, so she cries, truly terrified and alone. She is ashamed when, for a moment, she wishes she had not made the deal with Danarius. It is only for a moment though, and when it has passed, she knows it was necessary. And if given the option, she would make the same choice now. There is very little she would not do to protect them. Her friends. Her family.
She is past her tears and contemplating how long she will be able to endure the life she has now earned herself, if it is as truly as terrible as she has come to believe it is from the small bits of information she has gleaned from Fenris when he is particularity drunk or willing to share, when she sees movement at the door. She holds completely still, back pressed so flush against the wall that she can feel the stone grating against her spine. Dread settles upon her ribs like tar, thick and restrictive, making it hard to draw breathe. She readies herself to fight, even though she is mostly powerless. 'Maker please, don't let it be that monster.' Being alone in his presence is so very disquieting, a constant threat.
"Ava."
Thank the Maker, it is not who she thought it would be. The fear disappears, replaced with curiosity. She is quick to wipe away the tear tracks on her face.
"Alba?" she whispers back, squinting into the darkness. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know," the petite elven woman answers after a moment, sounding like a scolded child. "I thought you might be afraid of the storm, but then I remembered how you defended me in front of the Master..."
"Well, it is a pretty big storm,'" she smiles, offering a seat at the end of her small cot to the woman, who comes to perch beside her. They sit in silence for a while, watching the storm roll closer Hawke takes the opportunity to really study the woman. Her straw colored hair is hangs close in a short bob, surrounding her pallid face. She looks tired.
"I am also confused by you," Alba admits. Her attention is drawn away from the mysterious necklace as the woman continues to speak. "Human slaves are not as common as elven, but there are some. But you are not just a human. You have magic, and when you came here, you were dressed like a mage warrior. I think you could easily escape here, if you wished, but you do not. Why are you here, Ava? You said your story was a long one."
"Would you believe me if I told you I lost a bet?" The elven woman looks at her uncomprehendingly.
"Just a joke. I-ah-well. Damn, where do I start?" she picks at a loose string on the end of her thin, threadbare blanket. "I have a friend, one who used to," she forces the words out, "used to belong to Danarius, but he escaped. Danarius was trying to use me to lure him into a trap, to recapture him, but I... offered myself in his place."
"Why?" Alba asks immediately, eyes widening. "Why did you not do as the Master willed and allow him to recapture-"
"Because that's wrong! This is wrong. Slavery is wrong. And he," her heart clenches painfully at the thought of him. "He has suffered enough. I would rather that I be here instead of he."
Alba looks surprised at her unusually serious outburst. "You said he used to be a slave to the Master? I have only ever known of one who escaped..."
"Fenris?" supplies Hawke.
"He is your friend?" Alba breathes. She looks as though she would have been more able to believe that the sky was pink or that birds flew backwards.
"You knew him? Before?"
"Before the Master took away his soul."
"Took away his soul," she echoes. "What do you mean by that?"
"He was not a slave to the Master before, he belonged to another," Alba explains, "but he fought many other warriors for a prize of his choosing. When he won, he gave himself to the Master, gave his soul to the Master, to free his family. And then he changed. After that, he was empty."
"He's not empty," she snaps, words harsher than she had meant, and the little woman beside her flinches. "I have angered you."
"No! No, not you. I'm sorry, my anger is not for you." The elven woman relaxes a little, but keeps her arms drawn about her. Hawke continues, eager to learn what she can. "What can you tell me about him, what he was like?"
"Before he was changed, he was much like you, like my brother Balazs. Always a smile for times of sorrow, always a laugh in great pain. I did not know him well, but he was kind to me. He was kind to everyone."
Words escape her. Just when she'd thought she'd worked the last of those tears out, bothersome things...
"I should leave you now, you need to rest. Tomorrow will be difficult, I think."
"I hope I don't get dish duty," she deadpans, hiding her desire to further question Alba about past Fenris.
"You will probably be assisting Master in his rituals and studies. He is..." she pauses, looking unsure if she should continue, "...especially cruel to new slaves. He often uses them in rituals to test their resilience." That would explain what had happened to the slave Primus had been so angry over.
"Oh. Fantastic, everything I never wanted to know about blood magic and torture. Can't wait."
"Rest well, Hawke." Alba whispers her name, her true name, before dropping into another quick curtsy and flitting into the shadows. She watches the woman's retreating form, and dwells on what she's learned until sleep overtakes her.
Author's Note: Are you guys still with me? It's getting quiet in the reviews. Please tell me if I'm dragging this out too long, or boring you guys!
Avatarfan444: Oh, thank you! Yes, Anders was a bit blunt in the last chapter, but in his defense, he's under a lot of stress. The same to all of them, really. Thank you for all of your reviews!
Shoutout to all of my new followers and favorites! This is for you guys:)
Next chapter: a familiar face shows up! Misunderstandings! Jealousy! Romance! Stick around!