The Gallows: Kirkwall
Three days, the Hawke family along with Aveline, who was now as close to family as could be, had been corralled like cattle in the Kirkwall Circle of Magi for the past three days.
Garrett and Bethany had been on edge since their arrival, forced to stay hidden in the very heart of the Templars' power in the Free Marches. Corralled by the massive stones walls, wrought iron gates, and bronze statues of Tevinter slaves that were the Gallows, the brother and sister would stick to the shadows as Carver and Aveline kept watch for suspicious Templars and Leandra made herself a nuisance to the guards. Tulcas made himself busy leaving his mark on the corners of vendor stalls.
The guard they had spoken to had promised to summon Leandra's brother Gamlen to get them into the city after the Hawke family had defended him from a group of irate Fereldan deserters but still, it had been three days with no word.
Worse yet, as they sat watching the sun as it set beyond the cliffs of the city of chains, was the realization that tonight marked the beginning of the full moon.
Every month for the last eight years, Garrett's father had guided him through the use of blood magic to maintain his mind as well as his human form when the lycanthrope curse rose from his blood. Just in case, Malcolm had taught Bethany the basics of what was needed to perform the ritual but she had never before attempted the required spells during an actual transformation. Without Malcolm, none of them knew what would happen when the pale glow of the moon cast it's light upon Garrett, summoning his specialized blood magic alone and without another to guide him.
"So you speak truly then," said Aveline, leaning against a stone pillar, her sword and Wesley's Templar shield strapped to her back as she pondered what she had been told about the man who she traveled with.
"Every month, it's even worse than what happens to Bethany every month," said Carver, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed has he finished explaining the family secret.
"I heard that!" Bethany called out from under the blanket that they had strung up as a makeshift shelter beside the stone stairs. She had been there for the past few hours, doing what she could to help Garrett prepare for the night.
Ignoring his twin sister's retort, Carver unsheathed his sword and turned back to Aveline. "I made a promise to my father and brother years ago, that if Garrett turns I would do everything in my power to put him down before innocent people are put in danger. I'll probably need some help," he shrugged sheepishly. The idea of hurting his brother was distasteful to the young man but Garrett's curse had always been a worse problem for their family than three, now only two, mages among them.
"Nice to see that my brother has confidence in me," Garrett grimaced. Seated with his back to the wall, his bare arms wrapped protectively around his knees as he held out a hand to Bethany, blood running from a fresh cut on his palm. His eyes were held tightly shut as he ground his teeth, sweat poured from his brow as the occasional tremor wracked his tense body. No matter how many times he had gone through the partial transformation, it was still more painful than anything else he had ever experienced. With blood magic, he could maintain control of his mind well enough to stay put and not lash out at his family and friends but he could not prevent the cosmetic changes that wrapped him into a half man, half canine creature. His skin stretching over rabidly growing bones and surging blood pressure were anything but pleasant.
"Ignore Carver, that's how I've survived this long," said Bethany with a calming smile, dabbing a damp rag across her brother's face. Their mother had often said that she would make a wonderful nurse. "Just focus on my voice, let me take your pain," she took his bloody hand in her own, hesitating only for a moment. The use of blood magic still terrified her but the thought of her brother becoming a murderous monster in a fortress on an island filled with Templars was even less appealing.
"It's never been this strong before," said Garrett, gripping Bethany's hand harder than he ever would have in his right mind. His baby sister was precious to him, the very idea of harming her made him sick to his stomach, thought that could be attributed to the curse. With the sickening sound of bones breaking and reaasembling in his body, Garrett's eyes flew open, his pupils like slits with irises of a wild shade of fiery amber. Uttering an animalistic growl, he bared his teeth as they morphed into fangs before everyone's eyes.
"Oh, not good," said Carver as he pushed Leandra back, his and Aveline's swords ready to do what was necessary.
"Carver no!" Leandra cried, trying in vain to pull her son back. "You can't hurt him! He's your brother!"
"No," Garrett snapped, withdrawing his hand from Bethany's. His voice was deeper and cracking. "It's still me. I can… I can hold it back," he flung his head backwards, arching his spine as another nerve spasm nearly caused him to lose control. Shaking his head, the tips of Garrett's ears became pointed and longer.
"This isn't working," said Bethany with a grimace, reaching for her father's golden staff that she had made her own. With only a brief moment of hesitation, she steeled herself against the pain of what she was about to do and ran the flesh of her palm along the staff's bladed crucifix until a line of red blood welled up from the cut.
"Bethany what do you think you're doing?" asked Carver, kneeling down in the entrance of their lean-to with Aveline and Leandra peering over his shoulders in varying degrees of horror.
Ignoring Carver, Bethany shut her eyes and reached out into the Fade. Help me. Help me save my brother, she pleaded into the hazy mists of the dream realm as she left her mortal form behind.
Standing alone in an endless plane of nothingness, the only sounds around her were so utterly alien that she did her best to tune them out. Suddenly, gouts of flame appeared around her as the first demons came rushing to her calls. We can help you. Let us help you! They reached out their spindly arms to her, sliding forward with heaves of their slug-like forms.
Stand aside demons, I seek the spirits of healing. Not your foul presence. She waved the rage demons aside. Holding her father's staff tightly as she stood her ground.
The spirits care not for you child. A sultry voice called out from behind her. Spinning around, her staff ready for battle, Bethany laid eyes on what could only be a demon of desire. Purple skin with gnarled horns and a dancing violet fire for hair; the temptress was exactly what her father had described in her early lessons on magic as a child. Bethany stood guard against any move made by the monster as it paced, circling her with hunger in its beady, yellow eyes. Foolish girl, arrogant girl, only someone like me can give you what it is that you desire.
And just what is it that I want? asked Bethany, challenging the demon with her hands on her hips. Still scared, she was certain that her will would not slip, this demon would not take control of her. She would sooner die than become and abomination.
What everyone desires, child. Power. The demon licked it's lips, holding out a lithe hand with wicked claws for nails. Blood magic is what you need to help your brother and blood magic I can give unto you.
In exchange for what exactly? Asked Bethany, glaring at the demon, ready for it to offer a one sided deal.
Nothing now, child, the demon placed the hand on Bethany's cheek. Let me be there for you, it leaned in, lips gently brushing against her own as a blinding light overtook Bethany.
"Bethany!" she heard her mother call as the mental fog lifted, Garrett sat where he had been, his transformation partially stalled in a half in-between state. An aura of red energy flowed from her dripping blood like dancing, crimson lightning surrounding her brother as he cringed in pain.
"It's working," Garrett managed to grunt as his body parts slowly morphed back into their original, human state before everyone's eyes. As he became fully human again, at least in appearance, the eldest Hawke slumped over, his body completely drained of energy.
"I don't…" Bethany panted as the red aura of blood magic faded, "suppose that anyone has any lyrium," she flopped down onto the stone ground beside her brother, fumbling with a cloth to stop the flow of blood from her hands as her mother leaned down to tend to her children.
"And I thought that my family had issues," said Aveline, crossing her arms as she watched her companions from the sidelines.
"Hey," Garrett managed to turn his head to look at her with a wry grin, "You're part of the family now," he let out a weak laugh as Tulcas barked happily, jumping up to lick Aveline's face with his slobbery tongue.
"Wonderful…"
The Next Morning
"That Templar has been sniffing around all morning, the one with the blond hair," said Carver, observing the Gallows courtyard from his perch next to a golden lion stature dating back to the Orlesian occupation of Kirkwall following the last Exalted March. The sun was just cresting over the walls as lunchtime drew closer. Too bad none of them had eaten in almost two days.
"He suspects something," Aveline replied, glancing back at the lean-to covering up Garrett and Bethany as the slept, as they had since early the night before. "It makes sense with all of the noise we were making," she pointed out, trying not to show just how nervous she was. Until only a few weeks ago, mages were wicked people to be feared and corralled in her eyes. Only upon meeting Malcolm, Garrett, and Bethany did she realized that these were the images of mages created by the Chantry. Her father and then her husband had been wary of those with magic and Aveline's experiences with the arcane had left her with only more questions and confusion than ever.
"Maybe its time we went to have a chat with him," said Carver, checking his sword holstered on his back as he set off down the stairs. Garrett and Bethany's magic may have been a bother to him but he was not about to let them get snatched up after everything he had put up with.
Watching carefully as the younger man and the redhead wandered off, Templar Corporal Carson Tenny, his light armor covered by a cloak, made his way over to the Hawke family's tent. If the piece of junk that the Fereldan refugees were huddling under could even be called a tent.
The night before while on his rounds, Carson had been up on the battlements surveying the grounds of any mages looking to escape. Instead, a reddish glow coming from this very spot had caught his eye. He did not report what he had seen, not yet anyway. Catching a blood mage hiding among the refugees would be exactly what he needed for a promotion to Knight-Lieutenant. He was not ready to lie or cheat for the promotion but his family needed the money that would come from such a position. The opportunity simply could not be passed up.
Reaching out with his armored hand to pull back the patched cloth flap serving as a door, Carson turned sharply as he felt a knocking on the back plate of his armor.
"Good afternoon," said Carver as his fist flew out, connecting with Ser Carson's jaw, shattering it like a piece of Antivan glass art.
As the Templar's face hit the stone floor, blood pooled under his head from his vigorously bleeding lip. "Andraste's ass," Carson spat out a dislodged tooth as he propped himself up with a shaking arm. Rubbing his throbbing chin, he turned his gaze upward to the bare armed man.
"You lost Templar?" asked Carver, massaging his knuckles with a smug grin. "Not polite to just barge in on people without knocking."
"Ferelden scum," Carson hobbled to his feet, wiping his bloody lip with the back of his sleeve. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in? Harboring a blood mage AND assaulting a Templar!"
"I can only guess," Carver lashed out, dropping Carson to the ground with the force of another punch. He then leaned down and pulled Carson up by the breastplate and looked him right in his brown eyes before punching him a third time, somewhat regretting using the same fist again as he shook out his sore fingers.
"What are we going to do with him?" asked Aveline as she appeared beside Carver, tapping at the Templar with her foot, making sure to check whether or not he was truly unconscious.
A sound caused the pair to turn toward the tent, noticing Garrett peering his head out and shielding his eyes against the sun with his arm. His attention drawn straight to the Templar lying on the ground, he propped himself up on his knee. "Do I want to know?" he asked, moving his gaze between the two warriors as Tulcas let out a series of happy barks when he caught sigh of his master up and about.
"He was snooping around," said Carver, scowling at his older brother. "Probably caught a whiff of what went on last night."
"So you beat him senseless right in front of tent?" asked Garrett, cocking an eyebrow as he stood, stretching out his back with a series of pops.
"Are you alright?" asked Aveline, "should you be standing after…"
"After mutating into a monster?" he finished for her, drawing a bit of a chuckle from Carver who shut up quickly when Aveline shot him a glare. "Where is mother?" Garrett asked, gathering his bearings.
"She's off bugging the guards about Uncle Gamlen again," Carver shrugged, "I'm starting to think that he's dead."
"I hope not, otherwise we're stuck here in the Gallows until they ship us back to Fereldan," said Garrett, turning to fully face his brother. "So tell me Carver, why did you punch out a Templar on our family's porch?"
Though Garrett's loose use of the term porch drew a smile from Aveline, Carver just scowled. "Sorry for protecting you and Bethany," he grumbled under his breath as Tulcas whimpered, ears drooping as Garrett grew angry.
"You just wanted to show off," Garrett reached out and grabbed a fistful of Carver's shirt with his bandaged hand. "What are we going to do with him now? Now he's sure that there's something fishy going on here and will be quick to report it when he wakes up. Unless you'd care to keep him tied up in our tent forever."
"I didn't…" Carver paused, casting his gaze to his feet, his cheeks burning red. No matter how much he hated it, Garrett was right as usual.
"You didn't think!" Garrett snapped, rising Bethany from the tent as well.
Crawling out with a yawn, she spotted the Templar and nearly let out a shriek as she covered her mouth in terror. "Carver! What did you do?" she shot him an angry glare.
"Oh right," Carver rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, "just assume it was me."
"It was," said Aveline dryly.
"What are we supposed to do with him?" asked Bethany, her eyes livid as her gaze darted around, looking for any Templar observers that might be spying on their plotting.
"I wipe his memory and Carver dumps him down by the rocks," said Garrett, "He caused this mess, he gets to fix it."
"Wait, where is mother?" Asked Bethany, more on edge that either of her brothers had ever seen.
"Right here dear," said Leandra, her graying ponytail swaying behind her as she approached. "That nice young guard has finally gotten word about us to Gamlen, he'll be here in just under an hour."
"About time," Carver grunted, hefting up the Templar's arm over and onto his shoulder. "Garrett, give me a hand with this oaf."
"Carver! What did you do?" asked Leandra, placing her hands on her hips, taking on her scolding mother face that was famous for guilting all three Hawke siblings into submission without fail.
Bethany and Aveline both chuckled as Carver just scowled, turning even redder as his brother put the Templar's free hanging arm over his own shoulder. "I'll wipe his memory when we get there," said Garrett, "Aveline, would you mind keeping watch? I wouldn't want any of his friends catching us lugging their compatriot into a dark ally."
"I agree," Aveline replied, "but let us make this quick, I'd hate to miss your Uncle Gamlen after we've spent the better part of a week waiting for him to clear his busy schedule."