A/N: Thank you, Lisa, for not only beta reading this, but also for Ser Haggerty's nickname and for your suggestions!
Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing!
Heroes
Joseph sighed again, and stared at the window set high on the wall. A sliver of mellow sunlight was all Joss could see when she followed his eyes. He'd been staring up at the window and sighing for hours. Or it felt like hours, Joss thought, trying not to get fidgety as she waited for him. He seemed more like Niall than Joseph, and nothing Joss did cheered him up. She gnawed on her lower lip, trying to think of something else that might help.
Joseph had been in the Tower for three months and every time she was sure he was finally settling into life in the Circle, he pulled away. When he did that he reminded Josslyn of Old Phinneus's turtle, Tubs. If someone poked Tubs, he would pull his head into his shell and not stick it out again for ages. Joss didn't want to poke Joseph, but it was time for dinner and she was hungry.
While she waited for her brother to stop looking up at the window, she sat down beside him and told him about Old Phinneus, who claimed to be as old as the Tower. Joss believed him because his face had more wrinkles than a walnut shell and his hair was a fluffy white halo around his head. She pictured the puffs of cotton that they used in the infirmary and thought they might actually come from his head.
He did all the jobs that the mages and templars couldn't. He kept the chimneys cleaned, and repaired anything that broke. And with so many mages, there was always something that needed fixed. He rode across the lake to pick up supplies, something Cook Killdare said he was very good at because he knew how to find the freshest food. He made sure that no doors squeaked, no windows were broken and that the Tower was a safe place, whatever that meant. With apprentices learning how to cast fireballs, it was never entirely safe in the Tower.
There were many rumors about how he came to the Tower, and why he stayed. Joss liked the one that claimed he was a farmer who came to visit his daughter, a mage, but when he saw the Tower was crumbling to the ground he decided to stay and repair it. Joss had trouble picturing him with a daughter, but she loved the thought that he would come visit her.
He was stooped and bent and never, ever wore a smile. Ever. But once, when Niall had accidently broken the hideous brown urn in the entrance hall by casting his newly-learned Mind Blast spell, Old Phinneus's frown had disappeared for a few minutes. The urn had been her favorite hiding spot, and Joss was sorry to lose it, but it was almost worth it to see Old Phinneus not frowning.
Joseph looked at her for a minute and then back at the window. She stopped talking about Old Phinneus because her brother wasn't listening anyway. Finally, she stood, pulling on his arm.
"It's time for dinner, Joey, and I'm so hungry I could eat that book!" she exclaimed, pointing at The Land of the Giants, a history book about the Alamarri barbarians.
"Bet you can't eat even one page," Niall said, coming into the dormitory. "In fact, I dare you to try, Josslyn Winifred Amell."
Hearing Niall's voice meant that dinner was over, which also meant sneaking down to the kitchens after everyone was in bed, or starving until breakfast, something that Joss wasn't sure she could do. The book looked very tempting as her stomach growled for food.
Joseph finally looked away from the window and grinned at Joss. "I bet she can eat two pages, Niall."
"Nonsense. Eating vellum will make her sick and besides, only a true barbarian would eat a book," Merrisoo said in her snootiest voice.
Joss glanced over at the perfect little mage with her perfect little ringlets and perfect little nose, wearing her perfect little smile and her perfectly pressed robe. Her fingers twitched; the desire to toss an icy wind at Merrisoo was very strong. Instead, the girl's words only fueled Joss's determination to eat two pages of the book just because she knew it would irritate the perfect little mage.
Leaning close to Joseph, she whispered, "If I do this, you have to tell me why you keep sighing and looking up at that stupid window."
"Deal."
"All right, Ser Niall, hand me that blasted book. If I eat two pages, you have to shine my boots for a week."
"And mine," Joseph chimed in with a grin.
"Deal," Niall agreed. "If you don't, then you have to make my bed for two weeks."
Joss looked at Joseph, who nodded, and the deal was struck. Niall was practically dancing in his boots, Joss thought irritably. She didn't really want to eat the two pages, but if it upset Merrisoo and made Joseph happy, she considered it a very good outcome, even if her stomach might not. She glanced around the room to see that all the apprentices were back from dinner and gathering around them.
Owain looked nervous; his hands, clasped in front of him , were twisting around each other like a cat teasing a mouse. Petra was smiling encouragingly. The other apprentices were nudging shoulders and probably wagering on the outcome.
"You're breaking the rules!" Merrisoo exclaimed indignantly, her perfect little hands on her perfect little hips.
"There's a rule that says we can't eat books?" Joseph asked with a snort of disbelief. Joss laughed.
Two days after his arrival, Joss had told Joseph the four most important rules of the Tower. One was not to ask where a mage had gone if they disappeared in the middle of the night and were never seen again. Another was to always be careful using magic outside of the practice rooms, because the templars got nervous and were likely to use their smite on him.
But she'd saved the two most important rules for last. She'd made him repeat them over and over until he could say them in his sleep. The second most important rule was that you weren't breaking any rules if you weren't caught. The most important rule was not to get caught. Joss had assured him if he followed those two rules, life was actually pretty fun in the Tower.
"Owain will be the judge," Joss said, ignoring Merrisoo. Niall agreed, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Joss wanted to poke her tongue out at him for being so sure he was going to win but now that she was ten, she really was too old for that kind of babyish behavior.
Owain stepped forward and unclasped his hands long enough to pick up the book and tear out a page. Handing her the page, he looked at Joss and frowned. "If you can't swallow, don't spit it out in my direction," he instructed, looking at her so sternly that Enchanter Wynne would have been proud.
"I promise. I'll aim at her," Joss vowed, nodding her head at Merrisoo. Petra snickered.
"And give me both of the pages now, Owain, so I can get it over with," Joss added, feeling confident that she could eat two stupid old pages in no time.
"I did."
Joss flapped the single sheet at him and shook her head. "I only have one."
"That is page fifteen on one side and page sixteen on the other. That's two pages."
Niall groaned and slapped his forehead. "I shouldn't have listened to Joseph. It would have been impossible for her to eat one page," he said glumly.
Joss carefully crumpled the page into as small and round a ball as she could make. It still looked too big but she stuffed the ball into her mouth all at once, grimacing as she clamped her lips tightly together and tried to chew. The page was very dry, and she was pretty sure she could taste dust, not that she'd ever actually eaten dust.
The other apprentices began to chant, "Chew, Joss, chew!" until she was certain the templar on duty would come in to see what all the yelling was about. Of course, Merrisoo didn't join in, Joss noticed sourly. Joss rolled her eyes at the mage, who merely stared at her. Joss had always found it impossible not to roll her eyes when someone did it to her but the perfect mage had perfect control of her perfect eyes.
She chewed and chewed, and then chewed some more. The page became a wet clump of vellum in her mouth that refused to slide down her throat as her mouth became nearly as dry as the page had been. She looked at Joseph, who was grinning and slapping Niall on the back. It was the first time she'd seen him looking really happy since his arrival. She winked when she caught his eye and continued chewing. He shouted encouragement.
At first she thought she was going to choke to death and hoped that whoever had to pound her on the back didn't hit terribly hard. Her eyes watered and she gagged, clapping her hand across her mouth as she forced the lump down her throat. When she was sure the ball was going to stay in place, she turned to Owain and opened her mouth as wide as she could.
Owain stepped forward and bent closer, looking inside her mouth, before he stepped back and cleared his throat. "Joss wins the bet," he announced with solemn dignity.
Joseph cheered as he pounded her back in celebration. Joss nearly fell down, and she was sure she'd have a bruise or two by morning, but he was laughing and looked happy for a change so it was worth it. And Owain was her new hero because if she'd had to eat two of those round balls of dusty vellum, she would have lost the bet. As it was, her stomach felt jumpy.
As soon as everyone in the Tower settled for the night, Joss slipped out of bed and shook Joseph's shoulder. Even in the faint light of the hallway torches, she saw his eyes widen but she shook her head, a finger pressed to her lips. He got out of bed and they went to the door, which was always left open so that no wily mages could do any terrible, wily things behind closed doors. Bucket-head, Ser Haggerty, was standing across from the door, arms folded across his chest.
Joss counted to ten and then she coughed. Ser Haggerty didn't move. She'd never understand how someone could sleep standing upright, but the templars were very good at it. She tugged on Joseph's arm and they crept down the hall until they rounded the curve, and then they ran the rest of the way to the stairs. Hurrying up the stairs, they then stopped until Joss had made sure the senior enchanters were all in their rooms. They had doors, which was nice for them and great for Joss because it meant less tip-toeing.
They sped up the next flight of stairs and then they halted again. Joss counted to thirty and waited for the sound of the heavy plate boots to fade away and then she motioned for Joseph to follow her.
She hugged the right-hand wall, hoping and praying that Ser Greagoir was not working late in his office. She sighed in relief and scurried past the closed door with the sliver of light shining under it. He was up, but the door was closed, which meant he was having a nip of something called whiskey before he went to bed. Joss had once heard him call it a nightcap, and she couldn't imagine why anyone would wear a small mug on their head, but she was afraid to ask since she was in a place she wasn't supposed to be in at the time.
The dining hall was very dark and she bumped right into something as soon as she took a step into the room. "Oomph," she mumbled, stepping around the First Enchanter's Chair, which was a tall-backed and solid looking chair that the other enchanters called his throne. She worked her way around the tables, her hands outstretched to prevent herself from bumping into one of the tables and knocking something over. The apprentices assigned to the kitchen had to set the table each night so it was ready for breakfast the next morning.
Her heart fell into her stomach as she saw the faint flow of a light under the kitchen door. If it was Cook Killdare they'd be in luck. If not, she'd be washing pots or listening to old Senior Enchanter Mendric singing until her ears bled. She cupped her ear to the door and listened, which proved unsatisfactory since whoever was in the kitchen wasn't making any noise.
"Come on," Joseph whispered, tugging her arm away from the door.
"Who's there?" came a rumbling, scratchy voice.
Josslyn's heart, which was still somewhere in her stomach, decided to fly up and go for a run around her chest. Old Phinneus the Frowner was behind the closed door. She gulped and took a giant step backward but it was too late. The door swung open and she was caught in the light of a candle being held in a gnarled old hand. She didn't know why he didn't use the lamps like everyone else because they were much brighter, but he was old-fashioned, according to Lucian Caravel, who also called him a relic.
"Is that young Joss? What brings you this way so late?"
Joss let out a breath and spoke up. "Yes, ser."
"Well, get in here and quit stomping around before the whole Tower hears you," he ordered gruffly. "And who's this?" he asked, holding the candle close enough to Joseph's face that Joss feared for her brother's eyelashes.
"Joseph," her brother answered.
"And related to Joss, no doubt. You've got the same look of mischief about you."
Joss glanced at Joseph and then up at the man with the nimbus of white hair. "Thank you, Ol – erm – Ser Phinneus," she said.
Old Phinneus made his way slowly back to a small table where a plate of food was sitting. Joss eyed it hungrily and she heard Joseph's stomach rumbling.
"Don't recollect seeing either of you at dinner. Get lost, did you?"
"No, ser. Joseph was looking up at the window and we lost track of time," Joss explained, inching toward the plate of cheese and meat. Her mouth began to water.
"Are you tetched, then, boy, to be staring up at a window?" the old man asked, motioning for them to sit at the table with him.
"No, ser."
"Watching for demons to come and get you, then?"
"No, ser."
"Can't think of another reason for it," Old Phinneus said in his gruff, rumbling voice.
"Sunset," Joseph muttered under his breath.
"Eh? Speak up, boy! The floor doesn't care what you have to say."
As he waited for Joseph to answer, and Joss admitted she was just as curious as Old Phinneus, the man pottered around the kitchen, slicing cheese and meat and setting two plates down in front of them.
"I was trying to see the sunset," Joseph finally said around a mouth full of cheese.
Joss blinked. They'd missed meals because he was trying to see a sunset? She couldn't actually remember ever seeing a sunset and thought missing a meal for one was crazy, which she promptly said out loud.
Old Phinneus cracked his gnarled hand on the table. "Andraste's flabby ass! Are you telling me, young lady, that you have never seen a sunset?" he thundered.
Joss gulped, spluttering and choking on the buttermilk he'd just poured for them. If he kept yelling at them, the entire Tower would catch them in the kitchen after hours. But she did love to hear him curse; she envied his talent and tried to remember them all and use them whenever she could.
In truth, Joss remembered nothing of her life before the Tower, other than being taken away from Joseph, and the terrifying journey from her home on the back of a horse. A horse, she remembered with a shudder, which had taken pleasure in tossing her off several times.
"I've been in this Tower for fifty years and I'll never understand the – " Phinneus ranted and then fell silent.
"Eat your food," he added and Joss fell on her plate like a starving man. Which she was, except she wasn't a man.
Old Phinneus cleared their way back to the dormitory. They hid behind a suit of armor while the old man went up to Bucket-head and rapped on the silver helmet. Ser Haggerty jumped nearly out of his armor and Joss had to bite her hand to keep from laughing out loud.
"What are you standing here for? Didn't you hear that loud thump down the hall?" Phinneus bellowed at Ser Haggerty, who charged down the hall, clanking loudly.
"Now don't let me catch you skulking around again," Phinneus scolded in his gruff, scuffed voice.
Joss nodded, fervently promising herself not to get caught again and also to look up the meaning of the word 'skulking' so she'd know what not to do.
~~~oOo~~~
"Hey, what's that?" Joss asked, pointing to the small wrapped package on Joseph's bunk, almost three weeks after their trip to the kitchen.
Joseph shrugged and picked up the package, untying the ribbon and sliding the plain paper away. On a thick piece of canvas was a small, gaudy painting of a sun, just about to fall out of the sky. It was orange and yellow and red and gold, with long streamers of color streaking into the dark blue sky.
"What is that supposed to be?" she asked.
Joseph looked at it and then at her. "A sunset," he said with a smile. "It's a painting of a sunset."
"Old Phinneus can paint?" Joss asked and then she smiled as she studied the painting.
It wasn't Phinneus who'd painted the picture. Owain had painted it. Nobody painted with those prim, neat strokes like Owain. He called it mathematical painting; she called it painting by numbers. Whatever it was called, he was precise, and the result made Joseph happy.
She glanced over at Owain, who was sitting at a desk, his Creation spell-book open. His lips moved as he read and his hands twisted in his lap. She glanced back at Joseph, who was grinning so big that she thought his mouth might break.
"It was Owain. How'd he know to paint that?" she asked.
"Doesn't matter," Joseph said.
Joss watched as her brother went over to talk to Owain. She wasn't sure what the fuss was all about but as she looked down at the painting, she thought sunsets didn't look too awful. Of course it would be years before she'd see one, not until she was an Enchanter. Might as well be a hundred years.
She explained to her brother that he would have to keep his painting in his trunk because they weren't allowed to display personal items until after they took their harrowing and became full mages. Personal items were a distraction, according to the rules. Each evening, just before going to dinner, Joseph opened his trunk, studied the painting for a few minutes, and then went down to eat.
He seemed much happier after that, smiling and laughing, not getting caught, but breaking rules right beside Joss. He and Old Phinneus the Frowner talked every day, something that made Joss green with envy because they said he had a thousand and one stories to tell, and she reckoned she'd only heard about twenty of them so far.
Two months after Joseph received the painting, Old Phinneus died in his sleep. Everyone was shocked because he had been there forever, and was supposed to be there forever. Joss had always been half afraid of him and half in awe of him. She cried when she heard, afraid that Joseph would be unhappy, and sorry that she wouldn't see Phinneus's nimbus of white hair and his frown. It didn't seem right not to see him wandering the halls, cursing at the apprentices.
On the day of Old Phinneus's farewell service and funeral pyre, First Enchanter Irving gathered everyone in the great hall, instructing them to bring their cloaks with them. Joss listened to a group of the senior enchanters talking while they waited for everyone to gather.
"Old Phinneus made two requests before he died. One was for Ines to take care of Tubs and the other was to hold his service on the western bank at sunset."
"Always was a strange man," Lucian Caravel said, shaking his dark head. Joss thought that was funny coming from the strangest man in the Tower and probably all of Ferelden.
Standing on the soft grass with a gentle breeze blowing, Joss watched her first sunset, and finally understood why Joseph had been so homesick for them. She stood next to her brother, and listened to First Enchanter Irving ramble on about death and life and duty, more intent on watching the huge fiery sun sinking into the water than actually listening to the First Enchanter.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "By Andraste's flabby arse, I thank you, Old Phinneus the Frowner."