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frus-tra-tion. feeling of dissatisfaction, accompanied by anxiety or depression; to have unresolved issues
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She was too easily distracted. Kate crouched deeply when the next creature came at her, sword arm in front of her, the large blade it held too close to her skin. What a stupid mistake, she thought vaguely, trying to push it away before the darkspawn had a chance to push it against her. Ever since she had replaced her daggers with the longsword, the Commander had beaten it into her the notion that she now used a double-bladed sword. And what cut forward, also cut back. The darkspawn did no such mistake.
Instead of trying to win him in strength, Kate allowed their blades to touch before twisting her arm, sliding her opponent's blade well to the side while she jumped to a straight position. Instinctively, she twisted in her place before bringing her sword against its neck. Where others make it seem graceful, she had the distinct impression she seemed like a butcher wielding a cleaver.
"Heads down, brat."
Around Oghren, that was an order, not a request. There was a grand total of two seconds for her to pull away, out of the way of the axe the man favored. He smiled while he fought. He also sang, appearing to be enjoying himself thoroughly while cutting others apart. Kate grimaced as his loud laughter echoed above the battleground, caring little for blood that ran down his face and, occasionally, would slip through his lips.
This sort of event had become usual. Loghain had soon taught them that he took his task as a Warden very seriously. Extremely so. The only thing that could be considered superfluous in the way they had been living was the odd conversation exchanged or the discussion which would be started at some point. Everything else was practical. Training, travelling, hunting, those were tasks which had to be performed every day without fault. And then, of course, there was the actual fighting. Three days had passed before they were faced with the same creatures which had attacked the two elves so little time before. The strategy was simple. Kill everything that moved as quickly as possible.
This meant following the Commander and Maric into the fray, avoiding both longsword and greatsword as they moved around. They were the obvious targets. Herself – and Oghren – slipped in and out shadows, clearing targets when possible but, otherwise, keeping out of immediate danger. The way they did this, so analytically, so calmly, it made the actual act slightly less traumatic than it should be. It was a chance to attack those things which plagued her sleep at night before they could get them. It wasn't easy but it was bearable.
Kate sighed as her breathing returned to normal, sweat slowly cooling on her skin against the night air. Next to the others, she was out of breath, apparently out of shape and filthy. The first she blamed on the lack of experience with a longer blade, the second to a truck which was making her probably too complacent. The last… she looked down at the mud covering her legs and hands, result of throwing herself to the floor in avoidance of the many blades sent her way. Nothing new.
"And we're done!" Cullen was the closest to her, a loud sigh marking his presence. He looked at her up and down before favoring her with a small smile. "You look a mess."
"And you look." Pristine. Or the closest thing to it. Unlike Sam who was still struggling with the strong habit of fighting back to back to her, Cullen knew perfectly well what his place was and that definitely wasn't in the vanguard. His robe was still pressed, barely ruffled or stained by the droplets of sweat caused by weariness.
With the same calm, the mage's hands were gentle as he gripped her arm, forgoing magic in favor of poultices and bandages. It was a testimony to the last days that Kate allowed it without jumping like an abandoned animal. She hadn't even noticed she had been injured. Light, of course, it was a light injury and he knew next to nothing when it came to healing magic. But he was also very able, she was beginning to learn, watching as his hands moved steadily, disinfecting the large slash on her right arm, covering it with bandages so the blood would dry and the wound begin to close. "It might not scar," he commented lightly, not even noticing her waning attention. "Maybe Surana can get a look at it when he's done with the Commander."
If she asked. Unlike the little cut Cullen was tending to, Sam was attempting to heal the Commander, stunt the large injury the man had sustained. No one seemed to worry though. Marry stood by his friend's side, shaking his head like an exasperated parent but he was the only one who bothered. All the rest were already moving, collecting items and money alike, all scattered by the creatures.
"I think we can take a break?" Cullen asked simply, scrubbing a persistent blot off her skin. From where she sat, it seemed obviously like blood. "They seem to have it covered. And you can tell me what's wrong, yes?"
There was too many wrong things but, at the same time, nothing at all. All the questions she had made in the past two weeks – why they were doing this and for what purpose, how they could follow these creatures, why her blood sang and why did they have freedom where so many others didn't – had been replied by the Commander. She would dwell on humans and her ability to be comfortable around them, the changes affecting her, the way she ate more than ever before but got tired easily after a fight, especially one with more weak enemies than a few strong ones. These weren't something he would be able to reply to.
"Your magic. You studied under someone?"
Safe subject accepted.
It was a fair question though. Sam was good at what he did but there was always a hint of desperation in his magic. Less control, more strength. He tired easily at times, he had difficulty in keeping it in on the worst moments. Where Sam was a blunt hammer, Cullen was like a scalpel. Every piece of magic was tightly held, controlled until she was sure he could turn fire into a knife and cut the skin off an apple without damaging the interior. Sam was thunderstorms; Cullen was stone, sharp and deadly.
"Oh. That." Safe for her, it seemed. Cullen's expression turned a little serious, like a student in a classroom;, a faint move of his jaw, brow furrowing into neat little lines. Kate felt like she had dipped her fingers into an open wound. So much that she opened her mouth to tell him to let go, to forget she had spoken to begin with. The mage was more light-hearted that she gave him credit for though. In the middle of the battleground, he sat right in front of her, tying the last strings around her arm.
"I told you when we met. I'm Circle educated."
That she remembered. Only he was outside and that didn't match. She opened her mouth to inquire over that but his eyes were already upwards, a little shrug moving his shoulders.
"It's not like it's that unusual," the mage continued, pushing the bandages uselessly. "Being sent to the Circle doesn't always imply automatic tranquility. Depends on which you get sent to and how the Knight-Commander works. And in Antiva's they prize more in educate mages extensively until more or less twenty. Good ones are trained further and kept to the royals' personal use, the rest. Well."
Kate didn't need a huge amount of clues to understand what he was getting at.
His steady voice continued without missing a beat. "It's a little like military education," he explained, head tilting to a side. "You get scouted for particular talents and trained exhaustively in them until you're sure you can cast them asleep. You get a proper cell and some minor comforts, Templars guard you at most moments and a day span of six in the morning till a little after the eleventh bell. You learn. But, if you're smart enough." And there his expression changed, like a kid proud of his own prank. "You'll cast something strong enough just when the Commander is passing by. In my case, only tempest I ever managed."
But there was something more there. In the fingers which tightened and let go on his own hands, the way he looked at Oghren instead of her, apparently vaguely interested in the shorter man's progression over the hurlock's belonging. Kate understood this sort of reluctance.
He patted her bandage, likely forgetting there was a wound underneath. "I take Surana never told you about the Circles?"
"He was never caught," she said simply.
"Ah. Well, that explains a lot. You two seem close."
They sounded like two gossiping neighbors, she noticed with no little amusement. Female ones, at that. This man lacked a bit of male pride, didn't he?
"Anyway, I was one of the lucky ones. I got transferred from Antiva to Kirkhold and then selected for the Wardens by the Commander. And here I am."
The topic was so serious and Cullen made it seem light-hearted. What an odd fellow. They fell back into silence, watching as Sam frowned, trying to get their Commander up and running, so to speak. The large gash ran deeply down his side and was still bloodied, still dripping crimson red towards the muddy path. It was like the injury itself was battling the mage.
"I'm from Denerim. From the Alienage."
She was the one who had spoken. She had volunteered information? Kate blinked in almost surprise, closing her traitorous lips before she said something else, something even stupider. But the damage was already done. Cullen was staring at her, a slight delighted smile that made any shade of bitterness fade like fog in the morning. He looked younger, like a boy with a favored toy.
"Oh, really?" He grasped, obviously happy with the new subject and ready to milk it for all it was worth. "I'm from the Free Marches."
Then Kate decided she could allow herself to stop thinking for a moment. She was tired, bloodied, covered in mud and all around her groans replaced the forest sounds. She could use some normal conversation, especially if it meant she didn't have to join Vaughan while he slashed away the darkspawn's armor. Making it useless, probably. Pushing her leg to her chest, she allowed her injured arm to rest on it, slow breaths as relaxation settled in.
"Kirkwall?"
"Maker no, I'd never make it here if I had been sent there. That's one city that takes Qunari influence seriously. I met this guy who..."
Cullen was the sort of person that merely needed an opening to run away with the subject. And run away he did, hands moving energetically as he described a city named Starkhaven, the great Tower right in the middle of city quite aptly soaring over the smaller buildings as some remnant of a lost age. Kate found herself leaning forward, elbows on her knees and chin against her hand, listening carefully as the mage described such a vivid picture that it was almost as if he was telling an actual story.
"And there are these creatures, dark, rather dangerously looking."
That had been random. Cullen had been telling her about artworks, hardly creatures. "They actually have those there? In the middle of a city?"
A slow bead of sweat began slowly making its decent on his skin. "No. It's actually right in front of us. And it looks…I'd say it looks hungry. Yes. Definitely"
Kate's head turned to the appointed direction so quickly that the pain it caused took a little to register. Enough for her to see a creature, maybe a horse's size, all of it black feathers, spikes and teeth; a little to the side, half hidden by the foliage but definitely moving in their direction. Strange. She had the very strange feeling everyone was out to get Wardens.
"Retreat! Maric, on the rear. Everyone else, move." Like one, they all turned except for the blond haired man and Ogrhen himself. The elf had a vague flash of the two men drawing the thing's attention for precious moments, enough for Cullen to pull her to her feet, for both to run towards the Commander and Sam, only to push both down the path.
"Move, Tabris." Cullen's hand gripped her wrist and tugged her with him.
She didn't shake it off as they ran towards Haven.
xxxXXXxxx
"Open the gates!" It wasn't a request and it wasn't made by any of the usual group. The three words came from the woman who accompanied them. It occurred to Kate that she had never heard the woman's voice in the time they had traveled together. It was wonder in itself how the woman screamed over the steady way how she kicked the metal door.
As Kate was mostly worried over getting in and away from the creature (now following Maric and Oghren with painstaking persistence), the fact didn't settle. Nor did the voices yelling over the rush of blood against her temples or the quickness with which the obstacle was removed and they were ushered inside.
"What in the Maker's name was that?" It was Cullen to voice the question but Kate was dead sure any of them was thinking the exact same thing. What was it? She looked frantically to where the door still resounded, trying to see if the monster had followed them even against the obstacle. There was nothing to see though. Either it had given up somewhere in the descent or the metal had proved too much of annoyance. The relief forced her to bow, hands searching for support on her knees because all she could was try to breathe, as heavily as possible for her starved lungs. Maker, maker, what was with dogs gaining the shape of a bear, spikes and wings?
And why was she feeling the sudden urge to laugh?
"Whatever that was," Oghren coughed, trying to clear his throat. He and Maric came right at the end, buried against the gates' surface like it was a lifeline. "I vote on not seeing that again. All in favor say yes."
"No. We have to kill it."
Their Commander had a death wish. There was no doubt he was also out of breath, his pale skin flushed and hair in disarray but there was that look in his face and Kate had already learned to recognize it. Every time he narrowed his eyes in that way, just barely, no expression to his face bar a stern certainty, a fight would come near. It wouldn't happen though, not before his ribs healed and that scratched out sound, like something obstructed his breathing, would ease.
"We can't let it outside the settlement," Loghain clarified, shaking away any help to keep standing, choosing instead to slide to the floor. One by one, his gaze searched for theirs. Kate couldn't speak for the others but it made her feel strangely guilty for searching safety instead of facing the creature. Apparently, a gift of the man.
"I get that we need to get to that before the thing offs someone but hell, we almost got our asses handed in a silver platter." Maric punched Loghain's closest arm before stumbling to the floor, snickering all the while. "What a moment to feel alive, eh?"
She could understand what he did. Whatever they had done to her, that poison she had pushed down her throat, it run up and down her veins, almost like liquid fire. Kate, strangely, felt she could continue running, run until that energy was spent and she felt normal. The elf barely noticed she had begun scratching at her skin again, trying to get rid of the odd feeling. Her hand fell to the side once she did.
"If you're feeling that happy," the Commander whispered out. "You can go ahead and help me get that thing away from here."
"As long I get my eyeful of pretty pointed haired women. Women, not brats like the sample here." Thumb right in her direction and still, Kate found herself disregarding the veiled insult. Maric was a pig, the least interested in her he was, the happier she would be. Hence why she raised her fingers and did a little wave, like a definite unspoken dismissal. "You're still injured so take your time. Little masochism showing through there."
Loghain didn't pay attention. He raised a hand, Oghren gripped it immediately. Two forceful movements and he was on his feet, wobbling lightly as he stood up, apparently soaking Sam's spells like a sponge.
"Andraste take you, Commander," a light voice interrupted. "Sit down and rest. It is done."
The woman – the brunette, no longer silent, long hair trailing behind her was passing by the gates. Kate hadn't even noticed she had left. And she didn't come alone. With her came a small group of people, two humans in the mist of elves, all of them armed. Bloodied weapons.
"I'm grateful, Loghain," she continued in a tone that was carefully polite. It didn't sound that grateful. "But this is our land. We can protect it perfectly by ourselves. Stop playing hero before you get yourself killed."
Loghain's face was a mask. Impassive, completely unreadable. Only Maric had moved to his side and then in front of him just slightly and his was always easy, always expressive. He was displeased. They had seen him when facing the Templars, amused and joking like there was no danger. But he was actually displeased and showing it. Again, the situation was too confusing. Kate supposed no one liked having their helping hand slapped back in their faces.
It showed she knew even less than she thought possible. The tension dissipated, Loghain nodding in acknowledgment to the other female, Maric going as far as placing his arm around her shoulders and being properly elbowed for daring to do so.
"Wardens." The woman didn't quite smile to the rest of them. But there was something, in that she stood in her muddy Warden uniform, the long fingers resting on her waist, long braid peeking over her shoulder; it spoke of dignity. It also spoke of a hint of pleasure, like a woman who has just played a prank well out of childhood. "Welcome to Haven. I am Fiona Guerrin."
Wait.
No, they couldn't have. They couldn't have hidden that from.
Kate opened her mouth only to close it without uttering a sound. They had just smuggled the Lady of Haven in the back of their truck. Someone who apparently was just as loved by her odd ideas about the ruling of a reservation (if one was to believe Oghren's comments) as their Commander with his impromptu conscriptions. Maker help them.
"Are you all insane?" Sam mouthed, apparently grasping the situation much better than she ever could. There was no way either of them would reach old age. Well before that event, Warden Secrets would definitely have them killed.
Outside, someone had set the wyvern on fire; the somewhat macabre flames lighting the way for any visitor.
That was how Kallian Tabris first entered a Reservation.
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They were in Haven. The familiar trickle of fear ran up and down her spine but for a moment before being drowned by adrenaline. She had faced monsters. This was nothing. Less than nothing. Forcing herself to keep her head high, she passed by the guards, following the brown haired human as she lead them all, as if she owned the space herself. Haven couldn't be more different than Ostagar. While the Compound thrived in its originality, in the random mix of modern and past, Haven was simple and practical, grey surfaces all around. The buildings had been neatly built, straight streets framed by three story houses, no more. There were no trees among them, not even small plants on the stony paths, the impeccable stone-built streets which seemed like a white and black patchwork.
It wasn't Haven that surprised Kate. It was how many of the people in the streets were like her. Without thinking, the young woman took two steps, three away from the group, enough to be considered as walking by herself and then watched. Pointed ears and delicate features, simple clothes from those used to the fields, inked flesh, symbols drawn that she had never seen before in her life. This was her people, locked and jailed but her people. They didn't seem unhappy either, she concluded with some surprise. Resigned, more than not. She couldn't stop staring at everyone, her head wiping from place to place like she was a kid in a candy store.
Not even when she was pushed aside by busy people did Kate remember to complain. Instead, she returned their gazes with the ridiculous notion she was visiting unknown members of her family.
"Did you notice?" Out of nowhere came Sam, back straight and steps slowed until they matched her slow pace. She shook her head in silence, still reeling from the situation. Maker, her life with the Wardens was one thing after the other. "They look," he paused, as if unsure how to continue. A little tick over his eyebrow showed, brow furrowing in deep thought. "Like an ant farm."
What? Now she was the one confused. It didn't look that bad. Buildings were sturdy and were probably a good shelter against the cold weather of the south. The air was crisp and clean, sharp on her lungs but welcomed after their run, not a trace of the smoke and smog which covered her city. It looked pleasant. Better than pleasant, it looked downright livable. Much better than some of the places they had holed themselves up during the years.
Without knowing what to respond, Kate did the next best thing. She pinched his arm. Hard. "Sam."
"I'm serious, Kate, not hateful. This. Do you mind stopping that?" Her fingers stopped tightening his flesh. "No wonder they're all so happy to send us to this place. Everyone seems so satisfied. Like this is anything close to perfect." Sam had always been a small village man. He had never seen Denerim or its inhabitants. Maybe that was the problem with her. Even as she looked around, saw the peaceful expressions on most faces, Kate couldn't see the issue. They were just normal regular people. Sam snorted, a trace of derision she usually didn't hear in his tone. "I prefer to be on the run than being educated into this."
Ah. Right. She was being simplistic, Sam never was.
"It's not like we're staying. And it's not like we can change things. If they're satisfied with this," she shrugged, lacing her arm through his, barely managing to understand the oddity that that moment was. They were outside, with sun above their heads, passing through streets filled with people of their race – people who didn't even bat an eyelash as they passed – and none reached out to stop them. Not even due to Sam's staff. It was uncomfortable. It was odd. It was like she was dreaming.
"Don't think like that. Like it's not our problem."
If Kate hadn't spent the last years (Maker help her, she couldn't even put a number to those) living with Sam, she would have bought his obvious disapproval of the place as just that. The arm underneath hers, however, was tense. Just as his expression, just as the jaw, locked and unyielding.
"Why don't we address the real subject?" She suggested blandly. "You've been too worried lately. I haven't seen you relax one minute. Not even when alone."
Sam opened his mouth – probably to argue against that – before closing it in a huff, his robe ruffling comically as he tried to cross his arms and her own hold stopped him.
"The second I relax is the second you get yourself in trouble. Remember near Redcliffe?"
Kate remembered a fall, a broken leg and a curious man-child who had first watched just how his bones didn't quite fit against each other before he did anything about it.
"Dragon's Peak." She might have eaten poisonous mushrooms but he was the one freaking out with the storm. "I'm pretty sure I have more examples if I try though," Her head had found his arm, comfortably settling as they walked. It could be a peaceful stroll for all they knew. "Kate?"
"Hm?"
"He's watching us again."
The addition of again made wondering who he was talking about a useless task. Kate pushed herself closer to her friend and peered under the cover of his form. And there it was. Vaughan had made no secret that he disliked the two elves. In fact, he seemed to like none of the group, bantering with Cullen more often than not, greeting Maric with curt tones and discussing subjects with their Commander that they had no business to listen it. When in the group, Fiona had been calm and rather silent, Vaughan was simply apart. But sometimes, when they were distracted, he would do this; stare at the couple like they were about to challenge him, like they were a particularly hard knot he had to break apart.
"What do you think his issue is?" Sam asked, pushing her with him as they evaded the people littering what seemed to be a small market.
That was an easy question.
"The pointy ears?" She supplied. "Same as half of the Ferelden population."
The elf received a curt elbow to the ribs as reward.
"Be serious, Kate. He's dangerous."
It wasn't that she wanted to sound flippant about the whole thing but they couldn't keep watching the Wardens constantly. The Commander had promised them sanctuary within the group. So, at least there they could relax? For once? Quite frankly, she was getting used to being able to sleep a whole night without need for wards, just him under arm's reach and a warm fire nearby. Besides, Vaughan was more arrogant than dangerous and not even he would dare to challenge Loghain in a manner than involved more than talking. He couldn't be that stupid.
"They are all dangerous, Sam," Kate stated simply, trying to diffuse the situation before it evolved into an argument. Not when she was actually feeling peaceful. A little selfishness could be allowed at times. Right? "You've seen them kill a dragon. More of those things than I bothered to count. And that Ogre?"
She had a point. Even in his worried mood, the mage could see that. "And are you happy about this?"
"Happy?" Was she happy about it? The Wardens hadn't been the life she had dreamt of, not when at Denerim where most people wished a steady home, an adequate employment and good masters. She had no shackles and no freedom to run off the road either. So happy? The girl shrugged, the answer eluding her as much as it eluded him. "I don't think so. Pleased? Sort of. Glad we're not about to die? Definitely. And you?"
"Hungry."
Again, Sam evaded her question. That was a change she wasn't ready to enjoy. Kate pursed her lips, biting hard on the lower one before she did something stupid, like forcing him to reply. Which she could. Only Sam was looking down, frowning all over again to his feet like there were all the answers he would ever require. He was stressed, truly.
"I'm not giving you mine this time."
Relieved. He was relieved. Kate knew she was being selfish, wanting him to tell her everything as he usually did, wanting answers all over again because that was everything she ever wanted lately. It didn't stop her from wishing. Sam ignored her displeasure (probably on purpose), choosing to dip his head a little to press his lips on her forehead.
"He is still staring," he whispered against her skin.
"Sam. As long as he keeps himself just staring, we'll be fine. Besides, you're a mage. What can he do against that?" Kate pointedly ignored his look, a silent 'you're not'. "I'm not going to wander around alone. I promise. Happy?"
"Not really. But it will do."
An old woman gave the pair an odd gaze as they jumped away from each other, hands linked as the female tugged and pulled towards the rest of the village. The Wardens could find their own way. It's not like they would expect them to flee, not after all that had happened.
"Then how about we explore this place?" Kate suggested, not quite grinning. "Maybe we find some of the others. I mean, they are supposed to be brought here, aren't they?"
The thought hadn't occurred to him yet, it seemed. So wrapped up in his own thoughts, he had yet to look around and remember that those people? He could know them. And Kate was suddenly grateful it had jumped up at her because Sam's eyes lit up, a smile that was gentle and true taking over his expression.
The wonders a little bit of hope could do to someone.
xxxXXXxxx
Kate had disappeared into Maker knew where. Even after he had warned her, even after he had told her to keep nearby. The Wardens seemed pleased enough to ignore his existence. While the first worried and frustrated him – like pretty much everything those days – the second left him indifferent. To be alone was a luxury. To be left by himself in the closest thing to a city Sam had ever been; that was a rarity the mage was sure not to experience before years had passed.
He didn't like Haven but he couldn't deny it had defied his expectations. In his mind, he would find Towers and armed Templars at every corner, metal bars and tortured people. Instead he had grey streets and armed humans. But also elves and that was the surprise. He had never expected a human ruled prison to allow their captives to do rounds or carry guns. Then again, no rumor of the Wardens could have prepared him for what he faced.
He didn't like, Sam acknowledged silently, brown eyes lost in the dark alleys and the slowly slumbering streets, but it wasn't the worst he could have thought of. Then again, he had always been good at painting the worst case scenario; never mind the optimistic words he would direct at his companion while on the run.
"It isn't that bad."
The voice kicked him out of his own thoughts, a voice that wasn't familiar but it was known. Sam looked behind him, half struggling to reach for his staff, only to find Fiona. The brunette had already changed from the uniform which, apparently, had been borrowed to her. Dressed in a fine burgundy dress, floor length and cut simply, she looked every inch the human ruler she was supposed to be.
It wasn't a good association.
"Haven," she continued, thankfully not coming closer. Her hands were carefully tightened in front of her, one over the other. "It is rude and it is simplistic but people live here. They like this place. It is a haven for them, pun not intended."
She was wrong. This was no haven. This was a prison in a bright red ribbon.
"I can see the barbed wire just fine, lady." Sam raised an arm, a finger pointing well above him and to the side where the walls stood. "From where I stand, it's the same thing. Just a different package."
Her friendly countenance froze as if he had insulted her directly. One step behind a glare, the elf could swear on it.
"Let's make a mental exercise, shall we?" Fiona waved to the place around them – her gestures were no longer gentle or lady-like – to the dark buildings carelessly lightened by the one or two candles placed on the windows. No luxury of electrical light, of course, he thought oddly snide. "You know the current condition of your people. You know it better than I. Now think, what happens to them."
His first reaction was anger. Which was funny considering that would have been Kate's, anger and perhaps the closest thing to an attack she would dare. Ah. He peered more carefully at the woman's expression, reading the hard lines, the narrowed eyes. That was why she had spoken to him and not Kate. After all, they had spent the better part of three weeks in close quarters. She had been able to gauge personalities, at least. And his was more prone to thinking first, then punching.
And so he thought. Of course Sam knew better about the persecution than this woman. His village and his escape. Mages on the run, the small group they had formed, Kate, Kate being found right out of Recliffe, scratches all over and acting as skittish as a child in the dark. And like her, Maria, Solan, Thristan, so many that the man could barely remember all their faces. Just names. An incredibly long list.
"I mean no offense, Surana." She tried again, this time even mildly; coming closer, a hand on his upper arm that was warm and felt like poison. He pushed his own arm away. "But if that metal wasn't there, if those walls didn't exist, what do you think it would happen? Do you think they would waste any time to destroy anything your people build here? Do you believe anyone would be allowed to live here in peace?"
No. He didn't fidget, he didn't move anymore. Fiona read in it what she wished. "I see you understand." The woman dared a small smile before leaving his personal space. "Give it a chance. Perhaps the wardens aren't for you. It is good to have choices, options. You should think about it."
Options? What options? Even if he wanted to, he was a mage. Mages were automatically sent to the Towers, everyone knew that. Was she suggesting she would risk her own neck to keep one of his under her protection? And that was humor bubbling in his stomach, bitter amusement because this woman sounded idealist, like a teenager first having to fend by itself.
"You're wrong."
Her dress stopped ruffling, her body halted painfully quick as his voice broke the silence and stopped her from leaving.
"What?"
And Andraste take him if her voice didn't sound as confused as her eyes, closed just the slightest fraction, staring unwaveringly at him as if he was about to attack her. When Sam spoke, his voice didn't shake.
"You're prettying up your ideals and calling it salvation. But truth is, things wouldn't be like this if you all assumed humans and elves are the same. So you're just placing a Band-Aid, not changing the situation." The mage nodded, barely enough to be considered polite, before turning his back. "You think about that, lady."
Sam wasn't impulsive, he thought first. And what she had said was probably right in a short-time basis but she couldn't see past it. To what would happen once she was pushed aside and her protection disappeared. He did, sadly enough.
Fiona should have spoken with Kate, after all.
His frustration webbed away and he found himself smiling a little, his steps gaining strength as he walked back to where the Wardens would be. Maybe all he needed was to let go of those thoughts, infecting and festering like a badly healed wound, one that even kept him from confiding in Kate when she was itching to make all sorts of questions and requests for opinions. That was unfair, even more to him that dumping his bad humor on the human. Which was too, said that prickling of guilt somewhere underneath.
Instead of his friend, it was Maric who welcomed him. His uniform had also been ditched, his greatsword placed away and his hair was already mussed, likely by no action of his own. That was what the man's smile screamed to everyone who would bother to listen.
"Finally found you, man." Definitely a good mood. "We're not supposed to just sit around and relax, you know? Places to go, people to see, spawn to kill, Loghain wants us to go listen to his boring, very very boring description of all that bull. Where's Tabris?"
His smile started to dim.
"I don't know. Left about an hour ago."
Just an hour. That wasn't enough to get into trouble. It wasn't.
"Huh." Maric rubbed his chin absently, almost speculatively, before shrugging the whole subject away. "Ah, well. We can find her later. Really? What's the worst that could happen?"
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His fingers tightened around her neck, crushing her windpipe with strength she wouldn't have supposed him to have. She couldn't. Think. Kate clawed at his hands desperately, tried prying him away but Maker, she couldn't breathe. Couldn't. Maker. Vaughan tightened his hold, bringing his eyes too close. If she could breathe, she would have been able to smell him, to feel like throwing up.
How had this happened? She couldn't even recall. There had been a small meal, then she had dispersed, trying to find others to speak to. And then, then night had fallen and she had been trying to find her way back. That was it, wasn't it? From then to this situation, with cold fingers on her skin and a hard wall against her back, Kate couldn't make the connection. And why was she even thinking about it anyway? Freeing herself, that was the priority.
"Let go," Kate mouthed repeatedly, uselessly. There were tears in her eyes and she cursed her stupidity. She should have stayed with Sam. She should have stayed with Amell. Even with Ogrhen, he wouldn't harm her.
"Look at me."
Bright spots right at the corner of her eyes and she couldn't keep anything in her memory bar struggle and kicking and the sheer inability to understand what was going on.
"Look at me," Vaughan snapped again, the hand pinning her neck moving to bash her against the wall. In her desperate haze, the pain didn't register as it should have but her eyes opened – when had she closed them anyway? Light blue eyes, wrinkles and smudged skin, an impassive expression like he was doing little more than having a chat. One mole above his left eyebrow. Information settled in and fled out in the same second. "Why?"
Damn his armor. Damnit. Kate tried pushing him away again, kick whatever uncovered place she could find. Only there was nothing to find and she couldn't breathe. Her eyes snapped shut again and her consciousness began to wane.
"Why do I hate you?" He questioned, almost curiously. His fingers tightened even more. "I really don't get it."
If the elf had been able to breathe, she would have laughed.
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AN - I swear, it had been ages since something gave me this much trouble to be written. And I know some parts seem off, I'm very aware of it. Unfortunately, I've read this so many times (consider it's been over a month) that I can't even identify the worst in the middle of this. I'll do my best on the next. Let's just say it wasn't just the characters to be frustrated in this. Finally, please review. This is the one story I am most worried over and I would really like if the lurkers just pipped in with something.
Again, thank you for the reviews, guys: Josie Lange, Shakespira, Roxfox1962, Enaid Aderyn, ChampionTheWonderSnail, Ventisquear and Judy. For putting up with a weird AU universe :)