Chapter 2
(:.:)
No one had asked or ever started to talk about that ring, or the incident of that evening. In fact, I was fairly left alone by all of them. Through the couple of times that all of us met up, no one ever asked me. To be honest, I'm not sure how I would've reacted if they did. That ring, which is closely connected with my past, is a part of me that I won't ever reveal to anyone.
To be precise, the ball is a masquerade; something that is apparently very popular in Orlais. With a deep frown on my forehead, I watch as the people pass by to enter the keep. The enormous ballroom is probably filled with Maker knows how many people by now. I have managed to find some old clothes in one of storages that Danarius has kept in the mansion; a blue gilet with a white shirt. I found some shoes, black leather boots and a clean pants.
I got the mask from Isabela, much to my embarrassment. She had literally bashed herself in my personal room and, as always, made herself home in the mansion. This has happed quite a lot of times, so it doesn't surprises me anymore. The Pirate had looked at me with an all knowingly smug face, as she had handed the mast to me. It black, with two holes in it for the eyes and it has a nose. The mask itself however is simple and not richly decorated with golden or silvern lines.
"My, you look quite handsome." The Pirate purrs as watches me, when I put the mask on.
Though, I initially feel flattered, I'm not comfortable for her roaming eyes. My hair is still white as snow and the marking are still showing. I look in the mirror with a concerned scowl. Handsome, huh? I can't see what or where she is seeing that to be very honest. All what I can see in that mirror is a man who's trying to be something that he's not.
"I suppose that you leave your big sword here?" Isabela sits down in the highchair, with one leg over the arm of the chair and swings a bit.
From my angle I am looking at the right corner of the room, where the sword is standing next to my bed. The idea of not having it on back as I always have is actually quite bothering me. I am still aware of the hunters that are hunting me down.
When I go to the keep, there are a lot of people; most of them nobility. The women are wearing dresses, the men are wearing smart clothes. Each one of them are wearing masks, just like I do. When I see someone approaching me from the corner of my eye, my breath is stoked for a brief moment.
"Hawke." I mutter out, as I see her in a vision of green and black.
Her hair falls gracefully on her shoulders and her body is embraced by a tight green dress that hugs every curve of her body. Wearing a black mask, with golden lines, while her sharp icy blue eyes are looking at me with a certain confidence I can never deny. Her arms are naked, except for her hands, who are wearing thin black lace gloves.
"Hello Fenris." She greets.
"You look very beautiful." I mumble after swallowing the lump in my throat away.
"Thank you." For a moment she looks as if she's embarrassed, but collects herself just as fasts. "I'm glad that you're here. Shall we enter the keep?"
I nod and we go in together. As expected, the ballroom is full. At the entrance, Hawke had showed her invitation and had received a raised up eyebrow when she had explained that I was her companion for tonight.
The ballroom is exceptionally decorated; with ribbons, chandeliers and candles. The music is played by an orchestra, with a conductor whose making dramatic movements with his wand. There is food, of course and the couples are dancing elegantly. The skirts of the women are twirling around, which makes the room all the more colourful than it already is.
The eyes of the nobles turn towards Hawke and I know that she is making a scandalous appearance as she enters with an elf at her side. It doesn't take long before she is called by her mother, Leandra Amell, - as she calls herself after gaining her title back now. Leandra is talking to some noble man, probably around the same age as she is, and Hawke lets out an audible sigh.
"Be right back, Fenris." She mutters out, as she strides towards her mother.
I am left alone in the middle of the room. Feeling out of place, I saunter off towards the closes wall and lean against it with my arms crossed. To be honest, I regret coming here. It's far too crowded and it unconsciously reminds me of the many parties Danarius has given when I had been a slave. A part of me wonders when they start with the blood magic, when the food suddenly turns into ashes and the people turn into beasts.
"Elf."
I am called out of my thoughts by an all too familiar voice. I look next to me with a scowl. "Dwarf."
"So," Varric says, while pushing a piece of cake in his mouth. "dumped already?"
"So it seems." I mutter, while looking at the scene of Hawke and her mother with a deep frown.
"Ah, don't worry. She'll probably smooth the process of courting fast and returns in your arms." The dwarfs says with a mocking voice.
"I don't believe that I ever asked for your opinion."
"Of course, of course." Varric places his now empty plate on some side table next to him. "Just so know, if anyone of the merchants guilt asks you where I am, you've never seen me. Okay?"
I snort at him. "Hmpf, and here I thought that you always loved to be in the middle."
"I do, Broody! But not with the guilt. Too much assassinations, too little really interesting stories to tell."
I snort again, but keep my mouth quiet. I think that he has more stories of his own, than he can ever tell out loud.
Three stomps on the floor from the announcer, that catches the attention of everyone in the ballroom, as the loud and clear voice announces the next couple. It seems that this couple is rather special as all eyes are suddenly turned towards the entrance and their conversations are suddenly cut off.
"His Gracious Majesty, King Alistair Theirin, ruler of Ferelden, along with his Queen, her Gracious Majesty, Queen Anora!"
The royal couple entered the ballroom with stately and grace. The dress of the Queen has an purple colour, with silver embroidery and long sleeves. Her face looks lovely, except for those big sharp blue eyes she has. The king wears an golden armour, which is all impressive. Like all the others guests, they too wear masks on their faces.
I can see that the noble are exceptionally impressed by their entrance. The pair decent the stair down carefully and walk over to the Viscount to give their greetings. After a polite mumble of how grateful they are to be here, the sound of muttering from the other guests begin.
Another stomp of the announcer and the eyes go to the entrance again. "His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, Johannes, Theodore Theirin, crown prince of Ferelden, Lord Arl Eamon Guerrin and Arlessa Isolde Guerrin. Rulers of Red Cliff, of Ferelden."
A little boy, with curly blond hair storms off the stairs with a big grin on his face. The freckles on his face only add the more mischief, along with his sparkling green eyes. He has the mask in his hand. The Arl, a man of age walks down the stair calmly and collected, with his wife at his arm. The boy hurriedly chases towards his parents, but the Queen, -his mother, sends the young prince back with a glare to the Viscount, to give him a proper greeting. The looks a bit confused, while most of the people of court laugh at the boy's frolic.
"Who would've thought that those two would ever get a child, huh." I hear Varric muttering. I look down at him and the dwarf mutters at me: "That kid is seven years old and I regarded as a gift from the Maker himself. It seems that for many years it has been thought that the Queen had been infertile when she was married to King Cailan, until -poof!- she gets pregnant of the King."
"The Lady Kallian Tabris, Bann of the Denerim Alienage, vanquisher of the Fifth Blight, Hero of Ferelden."
An elven woman strides down the stair with a confidence that not many elves poses. Unlike most women however, she isn't wearing a dress, but an elegant leather armour, with silvern shoulder plates and gloves. Her masks is white and her brown hair tight up in a bum, not hiding her elven ears. She bows before the Viscount, who says that it's an honour to have her as his guests.
"They forgot the 'Royal mistress-tittle'." Varric says. "Quite the romantic story actually. The King and that elf were Wardens when the Blight happened, you know. They eloped together and they are still together as lovers."
"So, the royal affairs are showing up on the feasts as well." I mutter back. "A king with his toy. Must be humiliating for his wife."
"Hardly." Varric snorts out.
I frown at his words, not really understanding what he means, until I see that the royal mistress greets the Queen properly and the Queen returns it with the same courtesy. Ah. I see.
"Lord Noah Trevelyan and his wife Lady Georgiana Trevelyan, Bann of Ostwick. Their son, Lord Maxwell Trevelyan, heir of Ostwick."
Two couple stride down the stairs, but it takes a while for the announcer to speak the name out of the fourth person. I can hear how some of the nobles speak out their minds of how scandalous their appearance is, as the young woman in the red dress walks next to the young Lord with her arm hooking around his.
"Her Gracious Ladyship Anne Theirin."
The young woman, whose long light brown and curly hair hangs loose, falling over back. Her red dress, whose body is decorated with golden embroidered pattern, curling down in the middle of the dress. Around her neck is an elegant pearl necklace, with a medallion of the Theirn crest on it. She too wears a mask, just like all the others, but I continue to look at her face.
My eyes widen at the sight before me, as stormy thought of confusion fill my mind. That's impossible! There is no way that she is-? But how? Why? Is it possible that-?
It seems that I have a disturbed expression of my face, as I hear the concerns calls of Varric somewhere. "Broody? Are you alright?"
Without saying anything, I push him away from me and get closer to the crowd. The lady, who obviously doesn't notice, looks like her: her back is straight, looks focused, speaks politely when she thanks the Viscount for the invitation, her voice soft and gentle. For a brief moment, she looks in my direction and immediately I recognize her face. Anne!
I almost call out to her, but I am able to stop myself at the last moment. It doesn't seem that she recognizes me as never looks me in the eyes, nor is she aware of my eyes that are resting on her. She walks over to the King and the Queen, slightly kneels in front of them and then disappears from my sight into the crowd. I am trying to look for her, but I can only see sometimes a vision of red through the dancing crowd.
"Someone you know, Broody?"
I swallow a bit, clearing my now dry throat. I eventually shake my head. "No. I was mistaken."
It's better for her and for me that I deny this. The ring, that I had put in my pocket at the last moment before leaving, has a crest on it; a crest that I can now recognize. For the rest of the evening and for the rest of the years, I felt a certain peace knowing that she's alive.
(:.:)
When Hawke had fought the Arishok three years ago and even defeated him in a one-to-one dual, she had been proclaimed the Champion of Kirkwall. Since then, she has had hardly time to speak with anyone. The tension between mages and Templers are growing to the point that it's becoming dangerous and it takes up all of her attention.
Hawke has changed through the years. Especially since the murder of her mother. I'm not the only one who has noticed that. Everybody else has noticed it as well. Marian Hawke has grown from a shy young girl to an adult woman whose not afraid to speak up her mind, nor afraid to use violence for whatever it is that she wants. In some cases she looks… colder. Colder than before. We used to meet each other at night for reading lessons, but through the years they became lesser and lesser. I never spoke out my concern to anyone, but Varric did and so had Aveline.
On the other hand, their concern did not last all too long, since no one could deny the fact that Hawke is a necessarily person and is in fact the only one person capable of holding the peace in Kirkwall. As I said before, the mages and Templars are almost tearing each other throat out.
Meanwhile, I myself have been busy as well. Hadriana had been speaking the truth when she said that I have sister; Varania. After sending many letters to her, I have been able to convince her to meet me here in Kirkwall. Whenever I had coin to spare, I send it to her.
Though the thought of having a younger sister fills me with hope, I am still cautious. I had asked Aveline to check everything, almost driving the Guardswoman mad by my paranoid behaviour.
"Are you certain it's her?" I had snarled when Aveline had confirmed her arrival.
"An elf matching your description, on the ship you named. And alone, as far as I could tell." She had answered a bit tired, as Aveline sits in his favourite chair.
Frustrated by my own anxiety, I slam my hands down on the table, making the candles and empty bottles rattling from the impact. "I need to know if it's a trap!"
"I did as you asked, Fenris." She had sighed out while standing up. "Now it's up to you."
I look down on the table with a deep frown on my face. The muscles between my brows are aching from the effort. How could it be different? I haven't been able to sleep well for days now and I am completely on edge. I don't even hear Hawke entering the room, as Aveline had left us.
"Venhedis! Fasta vas!" I curse out loud and pushing myself of that table again. I start to pace again.
With her lovely face, Hawke looks at me with a calm demeanour. "Maybe I can help, Fenris."
I sigh out, letting out a bit of the pressure that is building up inside of me. "It's my sister. I didn't tell you, but I followed up on Hadriana's information. Everything she said was true. I had to keep it quiet, but I eventually contacted Varania and sent her coin enough to come meet me. And now she's here."
"She was in Qarimus after all?" Hawke asks.
"My sister left Magister Ahriman's service, and I found her in Minrathous. That made things more difficult." I answered, while still pacing around. " But according to the men I paid, it's just as Hadriana said: she's not a slave. She's a tailor, in fact. Getting a letter to her was difficult, and she didn't believe me at first… but she's finally come."
"You're worried Danarius knows?" Her sharp blue eyes follow my every movement I'm making.
"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I become he does!" I exclaim irritated. I stop moving around and look at her, for what I'm certain of, with desperate eyes. "Come with me, Hawke. If this is a trap, I need someone who can fight to back me up."
In whole thedas, Hawke is the only person who I will ever trust as much as I trust her. if she's not coming with me, then I won't go at all. So I pray and hope that she will help. Maker, I feel desperate for her help.
"I thought you said that there's no point in meeting her." She asks obviously skeptical.
"I can't simply leave it like this. I have to know. If we go to the Hanged Man during the day, she'll be there. For the next week at least." I am quiet for a moment as I look away. When I look back at her, I am certain that she can see my most vulnerable side of me. "It would mean a lot to me. That's all I ask."
"Of course, Fenris." Hawke says after what seems hesitation. She nods slowly. "Yes, let's go now."
I breath out relieved by her answer. Thank the Maker. As much as I want to hold her in my arms, as much I want to kiss her again, I know that I must sort this out first. First of all, Hawke is a woman who at least deserves a man who's truly free. I thank her, not really knowing what else I should say at her and we go to the Hanged Man. Before going though, we get Sebastian and Aveline first, in case it's a trap.
The closer we got, the more nervous I became. When we step in the tavern, I immediately see that no one is here. And the remaining people flee at the moment we come inside. For a moment I feel wary, but it immediately disappears when I see an elven woman sitting on the table.
"It really is you…" She says without ever looking up.
"Varania?" I call out at her as I slowly approach her table. Slow flashbacks storm inside my mind. I can hear faint laughter and for a brief second I can see a little girl with red hair running in front of me as I try to catch her. "I… I remember you. We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me…"
"Leto. That's your name." She stands up from the bank, still averting her eyes and her voice is slightly shaking.
"What's wrong? Why are you so..?"
"Fenris, we have to get out of here!" I can hear Hawke's voice calling out at me with a tense voice.
I look at her with a deep frown on my face, as I still try to comprehend what is happening now. I whirl around to look at her, about to ask what she means, when an all too familiar voice calls out.
"Ah, my little Fenris." I whirl back around to see the man who I can only hate descents from the stairs. "Predictable as always."
I look at him, wide eyed and shocked as my mouth slightly opens. In the distant of my mind, while my ears are starting to whizz I can hear my sister. "I'm sorry it came to this, Leto."
"You led him here." I snarl at her.
"Now, now, Fenris. Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should." Approaching behind his sister, Danarius comes closer to me. He has the same conceited grin on his face.
"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius! But I won't let you kill me to get them."
Laughing out at my word, trying to belittle me by all means. "Oh, how little you know, my pet." As he eyes Hawke now, who is standing behind me, his eyes go up and down over her body. It reminds in the most sick way how he had watched Anne, when she first came in Minrathous. "And this is your new master, then? The Champion of Kirkwall? Quite lovely."
Hawke looks at him, as I can see from the corner of my eye. I am certain that she stands up against him, until she finally opens her mouth.
