I think I'm starting to drive Kira Tamarion mad with my awful tenses and choice of words XD Thanks for being my beta, dearie!
Bioware/EA owns Dragon Age II. Can't wait for Inquisition to come out :)
Hawke took a deep breath and tried to turn her body, only to be blocked by something hard. Blinking, Hawke saw her hand was still holding the quill. She jerked up, remembering she was in the middle of writing. A quick look around told her she was alone in the tent, and it was dark outside.
Andraste's flaming knickers! I must have fallen asleep writing that stupid report. Where is it anyway?
Hawke checked the papers on the table, but they were all blank. Did someone take them when I was sleeping? She stood up, and stretched her sore muscles; it seemed she was spoiled by the soft beds after all.
Hawke figured there were only one person who could have taken her report, and she want to see what he'd have to say about it.
She walked out of the tent, looking for the giants; she didn't have to look far: a group of them were opening the crates near her tent. They stopped and looked at her as she made her way to them. "Eh, good evening?" The moon was already up, so she figured it's near midnight. Mother is going to be mad, she sighed.
"The Arishok wants to see you." One of them came forward, gesturing with his head for her to follow him.
"Oh, lovely, I can't wait to see him." She smirked. The Arishok probably is going to yell at her about her writing, if he is the type that yells.
The Kossith led her deeper into the compound. After some twists and turns, they arrived in an area with some more tents, though these were larger and made of thicker leather, and there was red strings braided on the sides of the tent flaps. Hawke figured they probably were reserved for higher ranking Qunari. One of the tents was further in, has three red strands braided right in the middle of the flap, and the area around it was empty; Hawke assumed that is the Arishok's tent. It was a little strange walking toward it, with the rows of tents lined up in a straight line; it looks like a soldier's formation, and she smirked, imagining the flaps to be the eyes of the Kossith watching her walk down toward their leader, awaiting his verdict.
Befitting the description. She rolled her eyes, then the Kossith gestured for her to go in, and left as soon as she lifted the flap. She entered, and was surprised to see it was not as elaborately decorated as she imagined the Arishok's tent would be. It was actually simple, but homely and comfortable; several shelves lined up on the left, filled with books. He must be a voracious reader, Hawke smiled. Next to the bookshelves was an armor rack, holding the familiar-looking pauldrons and the leather outer coverings that the Arishok wore. Leather skirt, Hawke snickered silently.
The furnishings were rather few, with a table near the opening, and another one near the back. Reclined there, amidst numerous cushions, was the lord of the giants. That's one thing she had noticed, the table was simple, but were was so many cushions.
She grinned at the Arishok, despite him not looking at her. Someone certainly likes his creature comforts.
"Being personally escorted to you? I'm feeling special." She walked over to him, absently noticing that the rug underneath her was a finely woven, black base with the House of Tide symbol. Dedication down to the ground it seems.
"Your handwriting is atrocious." He said, still reading the paper and not bothering to look up.
"Hey, it wasn't my idea to write it." She grimaced, sat down across the table and stared at the back of the pages in his hand. Her mother had wailed at her handwriting in the past, but there was simply no time to practice it while making a living.
"You were willing to share Ashaad's discipline."
"I completed the task, didn't I?" She huffed, as she rested her elbows on the table, and studied the Arishok. He was half-naked, the paints on his chest look a little softer, his long white hair was a little damp, and hung down past his shoulder; it reminded her of Fenris' hair, they had similar coloring, with high cheekbones and a prominent nose, but that's where the similarity stopped. Fenris's elven face was thinner with soft features, whereas the Arishok's jawline was strong, wide and sharp. The fine lines created by the formation of his horns made his countenance appear hard, his metallic grey skin tone added the coldness to his expression. It could be intimidating to some people, but it just made Hawke wonder what kind of expressions the he could make when he was unguarded. His lack of armor suggested a resting state, yet Hawke sensed that he would be ready for battle in a moment's notice. She had met many people, yet the Qunari themselves are indeed something else, and her interest in them is still growing.
The Arishok lowered the papers, looking back at her with those silver eyes. The intensity of his stare was hypnotizing, and Hawke felt like she was staring at the full moon on a dark night.
Perhaps it was a self-preservation instinct, but her hands withdrew, then quickly snapped back toward her cheek, the resounding sound of the smack startled both of them.
"Ow." Hawke winced, turning her face away, with her hands still on her cheeks. Marian, get ahold of yourself!
"Inflicting harm upon yourself is nonsensical." The Arishok said, and she glanced over to see him frowning at her.
She shrugged and smiled awkwardly, but didn't answer his seeking gaze. How does one explain to the leader of Qunari's military that he has pretty eyes? She almost laughed at the thought. He probably wouldn't like that very much, and speaking of things he doesn't like...
"You are the Arishok." She started.
"I believe we already established that from the first introduction." He replied with a pointed stare.
"But you did not explain your role."
"You and the dwarf were wasting my time. I did not want to prolong the conversation longer than necessary."
"And yet you didn't kick me out along with Jarvaris."
"You have shown abilities against the Tal-Vashoth, I merely granted due courtesy."
"That certainly sounded like a praise." Hawke grinned. "And now you have granted me and audience with you, alone. You no longer think I will harm you?" She teased. Hawke knew that the Arishok could certainly handle himself, and she understood that the guards he had brought were merely a precaution. No one with a brain would walk into a possible trap alone.
A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "You are welcome to try. It would be interesting to see."
"You are doing wonders to my ego." Hawke muttered, sighing in fake frustration. Inwardly, she was surprised at the show of emotion from the Arishok; he had been serious since the beginning, not that she's complaining about the change. So far, she had seen indifference, confusion, annoyance, and 'what do you think you're doing?' on the faces of the Kossith soldiers, but she could count on one hand the times she'd seen outward emotions from their leaders.
Well, there was that time he was mocking human's children, too. Does that count? "Back to my original point. I inquired about your role and task, but you did not describe what they are."
"You were not in the position to listen then." He snorted. "And you gave me the impression of unworthy bas."
"Even after I fought the Tal-Vashoth?"
"Your skill was commendable, but you did that for the promise of coins."
"Hmm, true," Hawke sighed, hunching over the table. "Gotta take all the jobs available to fund the expedition." She remembered that day. Hawke looked toward the Arishok, and chortled. "You were frightening! I've never seen a dwarf ran away so fast, and you only said a few words."
"Yet you did not cower like he did."
"Well, I figured that if you wanted to get rid of us, you would already have done so." Hawke smiled. "Besides, you made him pay us to keep his promise. I knew you were not a bad person."
"A childish assumption."
"It is what it is." So far, he had not said anything to contradict her words, and Hawke believed that her instinct about him was right. He is dangerous, but not heartless.
"You are confusing." He frowned again. "Your logic is flawed."
"But I'm always right." Her smile grew bigger.
"Conceitedness bespeaks of ignorance."
"I don't presume to know everything." She raised her eyebrow at his scowl, she smiled again and tapped the tips of her fingers against her heart, her tone of voice was sincere. "I just listen to this and let it lead me to where I needs to go. So far, it hasn't led me astray."
The Arishok seemed to be assessing her words, studying her with a probing gaze. She felt like he was trying to figure her out, and she grinned at that thought. "Not to mention that I have met so many interesting people and learned so many things."
"You are speaking of your friends." He noted. "Do you really know them that well?"
Hawke blinked, wondering why the subject had arrived at this topic. "What do you mean?"
"You and your associates displayed a tight kinship, and that sets you apart from the rest of this city." He said, watching the puzzled expression on her face. "Yet you still keep secrets from each other."
She frowned. "Everyone is entitled to their secrets. Just because we're friends does not mean we have to disclose everything about our lives."
"Even if it meant life and death for you and your so-called friends?"
"We trust each other with our lives, and that's all that matters."
"Then you are too trusting."
"I appreciate the concern, but don't you like my friends?" She grinned. "Give them time, they'll grow on you."
"Like diseases."
"Whoa! Was that a joke? That was worth writing that report!"
"You call that writing?" He made a growling noise in his throat, looking at her with disdain. "Your effort was the only thing I can see out of those pages."
"Yet you've obviously have been reading them."
He didn't reply or deny her words, and Hawke smiled to herself. She understood him a little more; she had put effort into writing the report, so he rewarded that effort by spending his time reading it. She knew that it was hard to read, and it was in the common language, not to mention her 'chicken scratch' - as her mother called it - was not the best handwriting. It was probably annoying to the Arishok, yet he did not simply dismiss it.
"I'm still curious," She started, switching the topic and her thoughts, lest her mind goes somewhere it shouldn't. "What exactly is the relic you're looking for? It must be something very important if they sent you to retrieve it, being the Arishok and all." she asked. It had been on her mind for a while, even more so now that she's starting to learn how the Qunari dealt with things.
The gossip was that they were shipwrecked and were stranded here, but it had been more than three years. Plus, the Qunari were obviously self-sufficient, they could have just built their own ship; there were enough resources in Kirkwall to do it. Varric had said the Viscount was having trouble with people who don't like the Qunari, so if the Arishok was to ask for a ship, she figured the Viscount would gladly gift him one.
There has to be more to it than that. Besides, he had said himself that they were here to satisfy the Qun; if it's not to take over the city - which I highly doubt..for now - it has got to be something important.
"I thought you would ask again." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Try finding the answer from the ones you called 'friend'."
"This again?" She groaned. "I'm trying to learn something new here."
"No one is stopping you."
"So if I want to learn about the Qun-"
"I am no teacher." He stopped her. "However, there are craftsmen here, and a healer. Seek them out."
"You will allow it?" Hawke beamed, her face animated from his words. He just gave me permission to come and go at will. Hawke wanted to sing, but refrained from doing so.
"Not tonight." He straightened the papers he had been reading, and hold it out to her. "Rewrite it."
"What? Didn't you said it was fine?" She took the papers, looking at them and back to him.
"I said no such thing." He replied gruffly. "It was barely legible. It is not satisfactory."
"You said my effort-"
"You did say you wanted to learn. Learn to write better, first."
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When Hawke got to her front door, she was muttering. If the horn-headed oxman want her to rewrite the report, she'd make sure he read every damn word of it. She grimaced, deflating as she stepped inside the dark house. Before she could toss the bloody report at the Arishok, she would have to write it to his satisfaction.
Hawke refrained from cursing out loud, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could; then she fumbled in the dark, trying to find the stairs. At the beginning of Bodahn's employment, she had already told him not to wait up for her; Mother was too used to her unpredictable schedule, so everyone was probably sleeping - hence the lack of light. She found the stairs, giggling to herself as she walked up the steps - sneaking into her own house is becoming routine. It's a good thing my room is not too far away from the stairwell.
She went into her room and dropped down sideways onto the bed, contented with the quietness of the night. After a few moments, Hawke rolled over; she removed her weapons and laid them on the nightstand next to the headboard, then promptly fell asleep in that position, fully clothed.
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"Marian?" Lady Amell-Hawke called, looking down at her sleeping daughter's position with exasperation. After all these years, Marian still moved a lot when she slept, ending up in the strangest positions. Still in her armor, Marian was laying diagonally on the bed; one leg hanging off the side, the other resting over the headboard, with her arms spread wide, taking over the whole bed. This was the reason Bethany usually left the bed she was sharing with her sister and slept between their parents instead.
Malcolm had attributed Marian's bed-hogging to her youth, saying that her restlessness would go away when she grew into adulthood. Yet here we are, many years later and Marian still does it. Leandra supposed she couldn't fault her eldest for that. Between moving from one place to another constantly and having to take care of her younger siblings, Marian couldn't help being edgy. Now that they finally had a home to settle down, Leandra hoped that Marian wouldn't have to risk going to dangerous places so much.
In times like this, Leandra missed her husband keenly; he always had a witty remark for everything. In that aspect, Marian certainly took after her father; conversations with her eldest always made Leandra missing him more. She knew that he is gone, and time had taken the sharp edges off of her grief, but he would always have a place in her heart. She had loved a good man, and was well-loved in return; she had hoped that her children would find the same happiness Malcolm and she shared...
Carver is with his father now - Maker rest their souls. Bethany is in the Circle despite everything they'd done to keep her from it; Marian was the only one left, and Leandra didn't know what the future held in store for her. She sent up a little prayer to Malcolm, asking him to watch over their daughters. With a sigh, she turned back to the sleeping girl.
"Marian, darling, wake up." She called again, louder this time; she knew better than to touch Marian when she's sleeping. The year working with the smuggler's ring had made her daughter developed quick reactions to proximity; it had gotten worse after the trip to the Deep Roads, and the last time she tried to shake her daughter awake, she had stared down the length of a sharp blade, and into the Marian's lethal gaze. Leandra was not hurt, she did not even have a scratch, but it was uncomfortable to see a person moving that fast; it was even more strange to realize that her little girl had grown up, and no longer needed the protection of her mother. She somewhat missed the days of holding Marian's tiny body in her arms, singing her to sleep, and dried her tears after reassuring her that the monsters in the dark corners were gone. However, Leandra rests easier at night knowing that Marian could protect herself.
"Marian!" She called for the third time. She must have gotten in very late last night.
Her daughter frowned, turning her face toward the sound of Leandra's voice and grumbled something.
"Your friends are waiting downstairs."
"Tell them to go away," Marian muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"Don't be rude," Leandra chided.
After more grumblings from her daughter, and a long sigh, Marian sat up slowly, her eyes still closed. "Mother, do you mind telling them I'll be down shortly? And that they owe me at least two pints."
Leandra rolled her eyes, and left the room to relay Marian's message to the three people waiting for her.
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Hawke made her way downstairs to see Varric, Merrill, and Sebastian sitting on the bottom step, chatting happily with each other.
"I do have furniture in the house, you know." She told them. "You don't have to sit on the stairs and block my way."
They looked towards her as they got to their feet, moving away so she could come down. Varric snickered, and Merrill giggled, while Sebastian greeted her with a smile brighter than the sun - which is a little too bright for Hawke.
"Aren't you people a little too cheerful?" She raised an eyebrow at them. "Did I missed something fun?"
"We were just speculating, Chuckles." Varric grinned. "How was your day with the Arishok? Did we miss something fun?"
Hawke glowered at the dwarf, then a grin crept onto her lips. "Yes, yes you did. You missed out on twelve pages of report. You are a writer, Varric; I'll be counting on your skills."
"Varric is a wonderful writer." Merrill beamed, while Varric sighed. "I'm sure he can help you write that easily. Ooh, ooh, Varric, put in some dramatic twists, will you? Wait, what kind of report is it, Hawke?"
"Mountains, caves, spiders, and rocks, of course."
"Rocks? Are they pretty?"
"They were shiny! And very colorful!"
"Eh, Hawke, stop it." Varric shook his head at her. "You could just say you don't want to talk about it."
"I did want to talk about it." She grinned at his expression. "That's why I brought it up."
"Before you two have at each other," Sebastian chuckled. "Let me brief Hawke in on why we're here."
"I'm listening." Hawke nodded, and leaned against the baluster.
Sebastian came straight to the point. "The Viscount's son is missing."
Hawke snickered. "Alright, hide and seek, I like that. Where was he last seen?"
"With a Qunari on the Wounded Coast."
"I don't like that implication." Hawke stood up straighter. She looked to Varric for verification, and sighed when he gave a firm nod. "Let me guess, the Viscount thinks his son was kidnapped by the Qunari?"
"That's why we went looking for you." Varric told her. "I thought you should know."
"Somehow, I doubt the Arishok would bother with kidnapping people."
"That's what I thought as well." Varric agreed. "But Saemus Dumar is still missing, and there's a reward for his safe return."
"Two birds with one stone, I like the way you think, Varric."
"Does that mean we're going to look for him?" Merrill asked. "I like hide and seek, too. it's pretty fun."
"It is fun. Let's go see where we can find him."
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"Are you alright?" Hawke looked the young man over from head to toes, seeing no blood on him.
"I am, thank you." Saemus Dumar nodded, but he was obviously shaken by the death of the Ashaad.
She could sympathize with him, because she was also sadden by Ashaad's needless death. She picked up the dead Kossith's sword and strapped it to her belt, then motioned for Sebastian to give her a hand digging the grave. Despite Saemus telling her that it was not necessary, she just couldn't leave Ashaad's body. She planned on returning the weapon to the Arishok, as the Qun considered their weapons to be more valuable than a dead 'husk' - as they call it; but it didn't mean she would leave without burying the dead body. Ferelden's custom is a pyre, but they didn't really have that much time; not to mention this is Kirkwall, and Hawke would rather not have the body on such a display. Once the burial was done, Hawke and her friends escorted Saemus back to Kirkwall.