Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Haunted
Chapter 2
Hawke and Aveline abandoned their search and made their way towards the staircase. The shrieking had stopped but the unmistakable thunder of heavy footsteps drew closer towards them. Whatever had spooked her friends had done a wonderful job, really. She never thought she'd see the day that Isabela ran from a fight. With the exception of that unfortunate incident with the Tome of Koslun anyway. Actually, taking that into consideration there was already something of a precedent for Isabela running away from fights.
The banging was closer now and Aveline drew her sword.
As it turned out she needn't have bothered, because whilst her three friends raced around the corner as though an archdemon was nipping at their heels there was, in fact, nobody behind them. Merrill, who led the charge, spotted Hawke and stopped abruptly, causing Isabela to bump into her and almost sending them both sprawling to the dirty floor.
Hawke darted forward and caught Merrill by the arm as she stumbled.
"Problem?" Hawke asked, nonchalantly.
Varric, who had been trailing behind the two women, shot her a dark look as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Oh, Hawke," said Isabela, straightening herself up and looking down at her nails. She did an excellent job of pretending she, too, wasn't winded from her sprint across the house. "Fancy seeing you here. Have you and Man Hands been having fun?"
Before Hawke could reply, Merrill gripped at her forearms. "We saw a ghost!"
"Oh for goodness sake," Aveline muttered behind her.
"A ghost?" said Hawke, looking to Varric for confirmation. He gave a short, sharp nod before his gaze drifted to the wall, eyes confused and distant.
"Merrill, you're a blood mage!" said Aveline. She moved forward to join the group. "You willingly consort with demons on a regular basis and suddenly you're squeamish about a rogue spirit?"
"It isn't a spirit," Merrill argued. She let go of Hawke's arms and took a step back. "I mean...it could be a spirit. I don't think it is though. It doesn't feel at all like a spirit. Or a demon."
"Don't we have enough terrors roaming the world already without drawing inspiration from children's stories?" said Aveline. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"Oh well I'm glad that's agreed on then," said Varric sarcastically. "Now if you could just go down and tell that thing that's been following us around for an hour that it doesn't exist we can pack up and go home."
"Why don't you just start from the beginning," said Hawke. Honestly, she felt more like a glorified babysitter than the Champion of Kirkwall sometimes. "Let's walk and talk, shall we? Aveline and I haven't finished checking the rooms up here."
Isabela sighed, sauntering closer to her. "You're so demanding sometimes."
"You like it when I'm demanding," Hawke pointed out, pleased that the pirate no longer looked quite as pale as she had a moment ago. Isabela raised a hand and patted Hawke's cheek just a little too hard.
"Only sometimes, sweet thing," she said, in a way that suggested now was most certainly not one of those times. That was fair, Hawke concluded, resisting the urge to rub her cheek which she was sure now bore a red mark.
Hawke turned around and gestured for them to follow her and began to lead the group back to the room she and Aveline had just left. Whatever it was that had traumatised her friends so was clearly not upstairs with them now, but for the sake of their sanity Hawke decided it best to move them away from the scary ghosts for the time being. Unfortunately, it was Merrill who took it upon herself to explain exactly what she, Isabela and Varric had encountered on the ground floor of the mansion.
"Well first there was some flying books...actually no. It was the wind first. It was very chilly. Did you feel the wind, Isabela?"
"Yes, Kitten."
"Or did the spooky slamming doors come first? Anyway, first of all Varric started hearing strange music-" Hawke glanced at the dwarf. Come to think of it he was looking rather pale. "-then all the banging above us started. That might have been you though."
"Perhaps Varric should tell the story," Aveline suggested with a terse look back at Merrill. "I'd like to be home before next year." The elf shot Aveline a hurt look but closed her mouth and slowed her pace so Varric could take her spot.
"And our mighty storyteller comes to the fore," said Hawke with a wry smile. A floorboard creaked beneath her. "When you begin your embellishments could you perhaps add a sea shanty? And some tavern wenches in dire need of rescuing."
"I already like where this is going. Throw in an oiled up sailor or three and you can count me in," said Isabela with interest. Varric, on the other hand, barely cracked a smile.
"There isn't much to tell you that Daisy hasn't already mentioned," he said. He tilted his head to one side as though listening for something. He didn't find it if the scowl on his face was anything to go by. "Something was is those rooms with us and whatever it was didn't seem too friendly."
"Is anyone we meet in Kirkwall friendly?" Hawke asked. She'd meant it as a joke but as the words crossed her lips she considered for a moment the accuracy of it. Whether it be mages or Templars, nobles or the families living in Lowtown, everybody seemed to have a nefarious agenda. Lothering hadn't exactly been a bastion of truth and virtue but she used to be able to leave her home after dark and be at least forty percent sure she wasn't going to be attacked by mass groups of robbers and murderers that sprang up as if from nowhere. She'd once overheard a drunk patron of the Hanged Man speculating about Kirkwall's water supply being laced with lyrium. It was an interesting theory, although Hawke was more inclined towards there being some sort of hallucinogenic drug there instead. It would explain at least some of this city's insanity. "Except Jethan I mean. He was a little too friendly."
"There's no such thing as too friendly."
"You would say that, whore," said Aveline under her breath.
"It was with us from the beginning," Varric continued, as though he hadn't been interrupted. "Following us. Trying to mess with our heads."
"Succeeding too it seems," said Hawke. Varric nodded. "What makes you so sure?"
They had arrived outside the room she and Aveline had last looked around and Hawke walked past the closed door. She paused for a moment. Had that been shut when they'd left?
"I felt it," said Varric. His voice was much more serious than Hawke was used to and it made her a little uneasy. Varric's wryly amused approach to problem solving often served as something of an anchor for her. "It was there...watching us."
She saw Isabela shudder beside her and reached over to brush her fingers lightly over the woman's elbow as they rounded a corner.
"That isn't exactly concrete evidence," Aveline pointed out. "I'll concede that the levitating books was likely the work of a spirit, but the rest of it can easily be explained by the fact that we're wandering around a draughty old house in the middle of a storm. You're letting your overactive imagination run away with you." The as usual was implied.
"You're probably right," said Varric derisively. "Weird shit never happens around Kirkwall. What was I thinking." Even Aveline looked a little surprise at his tone then.
Not facing the group now, Hawke rolled her eyes. Who knew searching an old house would be the make or break point for her band of lunatics? She'd always assumed it would be Fenris and Anders locked in a battle to the death that would destroy everything she'd built. That or Merrill accidentally poisoning them all like she'd almost done during that incident with the mushrooms. Hawke didn't fully remember what happened that night but she'd awoken sprawled across her kitchen table wearing nothing but Isabela's tunic with a very naked pirate lying atop her, Fenris and Anders spooning against the stove and Merrill draped across the chandelier. To this day nobody was sure how she'd managed to get up there. Aveline they'd found in full armour sleeping peacefully in Hawke's bed. Even high out of her mind the guard captain somehow managed to find herself a sensible sleeping arrangement.
The light on Hawke's staff flickered.
"Hawke..."
"It's all right," she assured Isabela.
She took in a deep breath and gathered the magic in her body. She pushed it towards her fingertips and then into the staff. The blue light grew brighter.
Then it flickered again. On. Off. On again. Duller than it had been before.
"Well that's odd," she said with a frown. She could still feel the magic pulsing around her body. Her energy levels weren't running low and her emotions weren't running high. She should have no problem maintaining a basic light spell. And yet...
"It's probably just the wind," said Varric, with a nasty look in Aveline's direction. She glowered back at him.
"Merrill, can you-" She turned around and then stopped abruptly. "Where's Merrill?"
Even though her staff shone just as brightly as before, the light didn't seem to reach the corners and edges of the room like it should have done. Merrill shivered. It felt like the darkness was fighting back, pushing her magic back towards her. She shot a glance at the door. She shouldn't be in here. She should turn around while she still had the chance. She could still hear Hawke talking faintly in the distance so she could easily catch up with her friends. But then...
She looked back at the mirror that had caught her eye through the open door they'd past. Nobody else had seemed to even notice the room, but Merrill had.
Masks hung from all four walls, their eyes reflecting back dull yellow light, while stacks of books and paintings rested on floor beneath them as if someone had pushed them all aside wanting to clear space in the middle of the room. She could hear the familiar squeak and rustle of mice, no doubt living amongst the discarded objects. Normally she'd have stopped to wonder where the rodents were getting their food from, but her mind was elsewhere.
She took a step forward towards the mirror and then stopped again. It was a big, plain sort of thing that touched the floor and reached to just a foot below the ceiling. With it's thin, tarnished silver frame it didn't even come close to being as ornate as her Eluvian. It was a different shape too. It reminded her a little of how the Eluvian had been back in Ferelden before it had been shattered and she'd been forced to begin rebuilding. The mirror that had started her on this journey in the first place. The one that had taken two of her dear friends. Maybe that's why she felt so drawn to it.
"Merrill..."
The voice was so faint that she could almost believe she'd imagined it. A light breeze brushed the back of her neck, not even strong enough to ruffle her hair. It was telling her to move closer to the mirror, she was sure, so she obliged.
She stared at the reflective surface, barely even noticing the thick spider web that hung down from the arch that ran along the top of it. She blinked.
"Merrill..."
Her breath came out with a short gasp. She knew it wasn't possible. She knew it...but the voice that called to her, that somehow seemed to be pulling her in ever closer, sounded exactly like Tamlen. Sweet Tamlen who had confided in her that he intended to officially court Mahariel just as soon as the spring was over. Sweet Tamlen who couldn't wait that long and had admitted his love not long after that conversation. Sweet Tamlen who had been taken from them too soon. It wasn't fair.
She was too close to the mirror now, staring into her own expressive eyes. The masks on the wall began to rattle, but she didn't even notice. How could she? How could she pay attention to anything beyond the way the reflective surface began to shimmer. Merrill held her breath as a figure began to form beside her, but a quick glance to her left told her it was only happening in the mirror and not in the room.
Could this be another Eluvian? A portal maybe?
The figure was sharpening. Features became recognisable. A pointy toothed smile. A blur of blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. It couldn't be.
Then another figure appeared beside that one. Merrill gasped. She pushed her hands hard against the glass in front of her.
"Mahariel?" she whispered. Tears blurred her vision but she could still see the face so recognisable form into that of her friend's. One of the masks fell off the wall, smashing loudly at the impact. "Tamlen?"
"We're here, da'len," said Mahariel. Tamlen smiled kindly with a hint of mischief just like he always had done and Merrill's heart ached at the familiarity.
"It's not possible," she said, blinking rapidly.
"It is possible," said Tamlen. That voice, always so self-assured was gentle as he spoke to her. "You know it to be true." Merrill shook her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew something wasn't right. Then Lyna Mahariel smiled at her and the thought drifted away.
"Just hold on. I can get you out of there," said Merrill. "If I can just get the mirror working..."
Tamlen shook his head. "No, da'len." His voice echoed. "You must join us here."
"But..." Merrill trailed off. Could she? Should she? She missed her friends terribly. Hawke wouldn't mind? Would she? Hawke definitely would mind. So would Isabela. "I don't think I can, Tamlen. Hawke needs me." Tamlen's smile fell.
"We need you too," said Mahariel. "You've already let us down once, Merrill."
Merril swallowed. Lyna wouldn't really have said that to her, would she? Before she'd died she had told Merrill it wasn't her fault. That she didn't blame her. Had that been a lie? "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I've been trying to fix things... "
"We know," said Tamlen. Sympathy oozed from his voice. "That is why you must come to us here."
"No I don't think this is a good idea," she stammered. Tamlen's mouth twisted into a scowl and the ground beneath her feet began to shake. She tried to push back from the mirror but her hands seemed glued into place. "Stop that!"
"It is your duty to return to us, Merrill!"
Her breaths came out in short, sharp gasps and she struggled to pull herself away from the mirror. She pulled at her magic, forcing it into the mirror in hopes of breaking it but it was no use. Something was blocking her.
"She said no."
She whipped her head around just in time to see Aveline barge past her, shield first.
The mirror shattered with an almighty crash.
Merrill fell to the ground, knees slamming hard into broken shards of glass. For a moment there was silence.
Then both Isabela and Hawke were on the floor beside her and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around her torso. She began to sob into her hands.
Hawke looked over to her companions and shook her head in disbelief. Even Aveline seemed stunned by the bizarre event they'd just stormed in on.
"Shhh, it's all right, Kitten," said Isabela, gently stroking Merrill's hair. "We have you now."
The poor elf only seemed to cry harder at Isabel's words, turning her head and burying her face in the pirate's chest...Hawke could hardly blame her for that one.
"Does someone want to tell me what in the void just happened?" said Varric, his eyes wide and darting around the room. Hawke wished she had an answer for him. The smell of burning dust and sulphur in the air. Those figures in the mirror...dark shadows and glowing red eyes. Pointy white teeth gleaming in the blackness. And that voice...multi-tonal and angry. Hawke shuddered.
She patted Merrill once more on the head and rose to her feet. "I have no idea but perhaps we should...vacate this room just in case whatever it was comes back." She cast a look around; she wasn't sure what it had looked like before Merrill had decided it was a good idea to venture in here but she would bet money that it wasn't this. Nothing remained unbroken with shredded paintings in disarray and thick cracks running up the walls like dark spider webs had sprouted up from the floor. She bent down and picked up Merrill's staff. "Isabela?"
"I've got her," she replied. She began to usher Merrill to her feet, brushing broken glass from her clothes as she did so. Hawke looked away and shook her head.
"Well this all escalated very quickly," she said. Nobody replied, not that she expected them too. "Let's go."
After what she'd witnessed in that room the hallways and indeed the whole house felt a lot more ominous than it had done before. Hawke held up both hers and Merrill's staves as she led the way towards...she didn't even know. She'd seen a bedroom somewhere around here. That would do until they'd got Merrill to calm down enough to tell them exactly what had happened.
"I don't like this, Hawke," said Aveline. "We should leave and come back with more of a plan."
"We can't exactly plan for something before we know what it is we're planning against," she pointed out. Aveline hesitated.
"Perhaps we should bring Anders?" she suggested, much to Hawke's surprise. Anders had been acting very odd as of late and nobody (with the exception of Fenris) was more suspicious of it than Aveline. "He has a unique knowledge of spirits. Perhaps Justice knows something we could use."
"It's not a bad idea," Hawke conceded.
"It's the best idea I've ever heard," said Varric sarcastically. "Bring Blondie into the mix. He and Justice always calm things down."
Hawke paused. "Also a fair point."
They reached the room and Hawke pushed the door open gingerly with Merrill's staff. She poked her head inside and looked around. No floating furniture or murderous mirrors as far as she could see so she deemed it safe for the moment and led the group inside.
Isabela immediately pulled Merrill to the bed and sat her down on it. They both ignored the cloud of dust that rose from under their weight and Hawke knew better than to comment on it. Varric and Aveline stepped through the door and took a place either side of her. She allowed the awkward quiet to last only until Merrill's hiccupping sobs died down into a faint whimper.
"Merrill?" said Hawke. The elf sniffed loudly and lifted her head for just long enough to meet Hawke's eyes before looking away again. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"I don't know what happened." Her voice wobbled as she spoke.
"How did you get separated from us?"
Merrill shook her head. "I don't know. I thought I saw something...or someone...or maybe I heard something? I just knew I needed to go into that room."
"Did you think the mirror in there was an Eluvian?" asked Hawke, her eyebrows contracting. Even if that was the case she'd have thought Merrill would have just said so before wandering off alone.
"Not at first," said Merrill. She sniffed again and grabbed Isabela's hand between her own. "Then not at the end either. But it...they spoke to me."
"Who spoke to you?" said Aveline, a little more harshly than necessary. Merrill curled in on herself. "I mean..." she tried again in a softer voice. "Who did you see in the mirror? Was it somebody you knew?" Presumably Merrill hadn't been seeing the same incorporeal shadow monsters they all had.
"Yes," said Merrill. Hawke saw another tear run down her cheek. "My friends...Tamlen and Lyna. They were calling to me."
It took her a moment to summon up the memory, but Hawke then recalled the names. They were the elves Merrill had lost to the Blight before her clan had moved to the Free Marches. Hawke remembered something about the disease being brought on by the Eluvian they'd found in Ferelden, though Merrill insisted it could be avoided a second time around. She grimaced and resolved to keep an eye on her friend for the next few days...just in case. Assuming they got out of here alive, of course. She suspected it was too much to hope for that smashing the mirror had been enough to get rid of whatever entity it was they were fighting.
"Calling to you how?" asked Varric. He had begun to pace the small room, hands nervously reaching behind his back to fondle Bianca.
"I don't know," said Merrill with a deep sigh. She looked up then with red rimmed eyes. "I felt like I was in some sort of trance. Almost like I was possessed." Then at the look on Aveline's face she rushed to clarify. "I wasn't actually possessed though! I promise. I'm still not possessed either. I think I'd know if I was an abomination now. I just mean I felt like something was pulling me in and I felt like I couldn't do anything else until I went!"
"Hmm," said Aveline with no small amount of suspicion.
"Go easy on her, Big Girl," said Isabela. "Before you start throwing your weight around let's not forget that Merrill is the victim here."
Aveline rolled her eyes but nodded her head.
"So what's the plan?" asked Varric.
"Smash all the mirrors in the house?" Merrill suggested hopefully.
"Leave and come back tomorrow when we have a better idea what we're dealing with," said Aveline.
"Or we could just burn the whole place to the ground?" said Isabela. Everyone's attention turned to Hawke then and she raise an eyebrow.
"Why are you all looking at me? Do I look like the leader of this merry band of misfits?" she said, folding her arms.
"That wasn't funny the first time you said it eight years ago and it isn't funny now," said Aveline.
Hawke sighed and looked at Merrill. Her eyes were still glossy with tears as she toyed with Isabela's fingers. A way of distracting herself. "As much as I hate to admit it, I actually agree with Aveline." It was difficult to say who looked more surprised by that admission. "I know; I'm shocked too, but I have no intention of spending the rest of my night being terrorised by an angry house. What do you think, Varric?"
Though he didn't look overly happy at the prospect, Varric nodded his head once. "Fine. This place is giving me a headache anyway." Somewhere down the hallway a door slammed shut. "It's like it's trying to piss me off!"
"I'm not convinced we've given a house fire enough consideration," said Isabela. She stood up and pulled Merrill off the bed with her.
"We'll keep arson in our back pocket," Hawke assured her. "We might need it to get out the front door anyway. Let's not forget it took it upon itself to lock us in when we arrived."
Isabela groaned. "I'd forgotten about that. Well I suppose if magic doesn't work on it we can tip Aveline onto her side use her as the battering ram the Maker intended her to be."
"So help me, whore, I will break every bone in your body," said Aveline through gritted teeth. Isabela laughed in response. It was a laugh that very clearly said, 'I'd like to see you try'.
Time was marching on so Hawke handed Merrill's staff back to her, though she seemed reluctant to release Isabela's hand to hold it, and took a deep breath before leaving the bedroom. Hopefully she'd be able to remember her way back to the stairs from here because after Merrill went missing they all got a little turned around in the frantic dash to find her. Hawke pursed her lips and walked, in theory, back the way they came.
It all seemed to be going so well. Merrill had stopped crying. Aveline and Isabela had stopped bickering. Varric was...well actually Varric was still acting rather sullen which was concerning Hawke more and more. They turned down the hallway and Hawke almost cheered when she saw the staircase she'd been looking for. Then -
"Uh...Hawke..."
"What is-" Before she could finish her sentence something large and heavy smashed against the side of her head and the world turned dark.