A/N: one more chapter to go and we're done. Hope someone out there will enjoy this stuff. Sheesh, I read a lot of verses of the Chant of Light for this one!
Aveline lay still in the darkness, her head cradled against Isabela's shoulder. The pirate's chin rested on top of her head, and she was asleep. Her breathing was deep and soothing. The guard however was wide awake. She had maybe slept for an hour, and since then had listened to her companion's breathing and any sound outside in the chantry. She never left the cradling shelter of Isabela's embrace, because it just...felt too comforting. No harm done. They were just protecting each other. It didn't mean anything. None of their observations and confessions in the dark meant anything.
Aveline attributed her weakness to the fact that they were waiting for death like the condemned. Otherwise she would never have considered embracing Isabela like this. There was this moment, this one brief moment when Isabela touched her lips with gentle fingers, that moment when Aveline had almost given in. It would have been easy to kiss those fingers. She was convinced that Isabela's lips were pliable and soft, much like her body was against hers right now. They would have felt nice against her own. Isabela would have consumed her.
In the dark, Aveline was grateful that Isabela was wearing Hawke's robe. If she wore any less, if they touched skin to skin, she would have lost her composure, even more so than she already had. Aveline inhaled deeply, sensing the enigmatic theme that was the other woman. She smelled of salt, of the sea, a complex bouquet that seemed exotic to Aveline. As complex as Isabela was, through and through. It was too easy to dismiss her as one-track note, as greedy whore who slept and cheated her way through life. All of the companions of Hawke, they all were more than a look at the surface would indicate. Only that Isabela is more exciting to look at than I am.
The guard-captain forced herself to think less of the woman that had her arms around her, and more of their predicament. They had so very little to go on. Both had been controlled by Yuvar with very little amounts of blood. Was blood even necessary? She tried to remember that prostitute Idunna. Apostitute. There it was, Isabela's laughter dancing on her mind, creating this word and laughing gleefully. How inappropriate Aveline had found her at that moment.
Idunna. Aveline remembered the sense of inertia she had felt inside the whore's room, as she had listened to her questioning Hawke and ordering her to draw her knife across her throat. She couldn't have done anything for her life. There was no use of blood, Idunna had simply tried to control Hawke and ultimately failed. How did Hawke break the spell? Was it even an option for them when Yuvar had probably amplified the control with the use of blood?
Isabela was no stranger to temptation, and had always failed in any encounter where temptation was offered. How they had laughed in retrospect that Isabela had betrayed Hawke to a desire demon, over a big boat. It sounded like such a darling story when told by Isabela and Varric in the Hanged Man. Aveline had no expectations that Isabela would have the sufficient strength to not bend to Yuvar's will. She required protection. From herself, from Yuvar. Aveline would give her everything to protect her.
Aveline stared at the light, a thin line of brightness underneath the door, indicating that there was life again outside. The Chantry sisters were likely turning on extinguished candles as they prepared for the morning chant. Isabela stirred against her, and for a moment, one of her hands greedily reached for Aveline's derriere, only to be met with the cold feel of plate armor under her hands. "Ouch," she gasped under her breath, and then moved away from Aveline. The guard-captain heard a whistling sound and knew the pirate had drawn a hidden blade. "Relax. Don't stab me. And don't touch my ass like that again."
Isabela was silent for a while, and then sheathed the dagger, back underneath the heavy robe, in a sheath she wore on her thigh. There was a reason she did not usually wear confining clothing like pants or dresses. In the time it took her to draw her dagger, she would already be dead. "I forgot. Where we were. I am sorry." She squinted at the line of illumination under the door. "Is it morning, do you think?"
The redhead nodded her head in the darkness. "You slept quite a bit. I have a feeling it's maybe before dawn. We will know, when the chant begins. We must think about what's going to happen today. Why would he bring us here? Why not dispose of us right away?"
The Rivaini chewed on her bottom lip and then without thought reached for Aveline's hand. The other took it. "I do not know, Aveline. If I were him, I would have gotten rid of me right away. You, I understand why he is keeping you. You are the guard-captain. You will be missed. Your absence will be noted, from the moment you are not there for the morning drills. Won't your second in command search everywhere?" Isabela snorted. "I have heard the guards in the Rose, I told you. They think you are more stifling than their mothers. They will know something's up. He shouldn't have taken you. Me, I would not have been a risk. No one will miss my absence." There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
"Of course people would miss you. Like...Hawke. She is very fond of you. And Varric. Merrill, of course, she practically worships the ground you walk on." Aveline tried to think of any further names and came up short.
"Let's face it, they wouldn't notice my absence until it'd be weeks. I am not that close to anyone. Neither are you that close to anyone, it's only because you have your regulated, scheduled life-style as a guard that you'd be missed." Bitterness didn't become Isabela's voice, but it was there, undeniably so. Loneliness was her underlying theme these days. It had never been so apparent to Aveline before. It had never matched her own feelings before. Once you admitted to being lonely, it seemed to gnaw at you, until it made you hollow on the inside. This is what Aveline felt like.
Aveline boxed Isabela's side. She didn't quite deck her, but it was not gentle. "Don't you dare talk this stupid junk about who will be missed more. It doesn't do anything to help us. Knowing who is more important out there doesn't help us either. Where's your ingenuity? Where's your drive to freedom? Do you want to get out of here and stop this bastard, or do you want to give up?" Her voice was an angry snarl, a lioness rising up to defend her cubs.
There was no more hand-holding in the dark now. Isabela used a hand to shove against Aveline's shoulder, roughly. There was an air of tension between them. Isabela had the overwhelming urge to kiss Aveline, press her against the wall, and absorb all that delicious fire into herself. So many possibilities. She was convinced that once her lips would touch Aveline's, she would burst into passion. But no, instead of kissing her lips hungrily, Isabela slapped blindly at the guard's hands and rose. "I am not giving up. I am just a captain, who sails the seas. I don't know how to combat blood mages. You tell me. I am a sea dog with no land legs for this kind of shit."
Aveline took a deep breath and rose as well. "As if I knew. All I know is that giving up is giving in already, and we simply cannot afford this. Just pull yourself together." She rubbed the shoulder that Isabela had shoved against. This return to their usual strained relationship was oddly painful.
Before either woman could say anything else, they tensed at the sound of a key in the lock of the door. The door slowly opened, and the sudden light made them blink. Aveline shaded her eyes, to make out the glowing form in the doorway. The sudden light made it seem as if Yuvar was surrounded by a halo.
Yuvar was accompanied by a short Chantry sister, elderly, and perfectly quiet. She didn't even look at them. Instead, she merely went ahead and replaced all the candles with fresh ones, lighting them. When she completed her task, she spoke perfunctorily. "May the Light of the Maker bless you, children." And then she simply left. Clearly, she was a thrall of Yuvar's. He clearly had meddled thoroughly here, infiltrated the heart of faith in Kirkwall.
Isabela and Aveline stared at him as he closed the door, and watched him. He was dressed in plain work clothes again and looked utterly harmless, of no significance whatsoever. He completely ignored them and moved towards the altar. He kneeled and then started praying earnestly. It was a surreal moment.
"You got to be fucking kidding me." Isabela just stared at his back, shaking her head. At her words, Yuvar rose to his feet and turned to look at her. His eyes were grey as the water in a Darktown puddle. Fish showed more emotions than he did. He pointed his hand at Isabela, and she fell on her knees, screaming in pain. The cuts on the back on her hand opened, and she bled, tears streaming down her face.
"You do not interrupt me while I converse with the Maker. I am a devout man, and I will not accept any interruptions from scum like you." Yuvar sounded incredibly bored as he spoke those words. He looked bored too. He turned back towards the altar.
Aveline moved to Isabela, putting an arm around her shoulder. The pirate was wiping her face with the back of the hand that was not injured, cradling the other to her. Aveline was filled with so much repulsion for the man who had just flicked his hand and ripped into Isabela for her words. Repulsion and rage ran through her. She could not hold her tongue either, though she already knew she would come to regret it. "Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His children are hated and accursed by the Maker, as the Chant of the Light teaches us. You are a maleficar, how dare you claim you are a man of the faith, when your very existence is an affront to the Maker?"
Isabela stared at her in horror, expecting Yuvar to do his worst, but he concluded his prayers and walked towards Aveline, looking at her as if she was an insect. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." He smiled thinly at her. "Aren't we both the same. We keep peace. We are champions of the just. I simply rid Kirkwall of those Kirkwall doesn't need. We can interpret the Chant of the Light loosely. I believe the Canticle of Transfigurations was added at a later time, and falsely represents mages. If only we were fully allowed to participate, we could make the Maker return so much sooner, spreading the Chant of Light into all corners of the world. I am a humble servant."
Aveline snorted and shook her head. "Do not compare the two of us to be the same. You do not keep peace. You abuse and you kill, and you use all those magics that made the Maker turn from the people of Thedas." She turned to look at Isabela. "Let her go. She only approached you on my behalf. She has done you no harm. If you truly claim you are just, then you let her go."
Yuvar smiled thinly, and wiggled his fingers in the air, as if he was playing a flute. Isabela curled up on the ground, wracked with pain. She made incoherent sounds, as the blood was dripping from her fingers now. "I cannot spare the wicked. She is. I have touched her mind, and it is full of depravity, and rebellious thoughts. Most women who are not of the faith deserve nothing more than be made whores. I am sure some house in Minrathous will gladly have her serve on her knees. "
Aveline was filled with helpless rage at this display of power. She put one hand on the pommel of her sword, but couldn't draw it. At least it felt good having her hand on it. "If you mean to sell her, you should stop injuring the goods now. I hear whores fetch better prices when there's no damage." She couldn't quite believe she was actually saying this. Using her so, as if she hadn't already used her so much. "Maybe you are right and she is that wicked, and then you need to ship her off."
The man coolly watched her and then nodded. "You are very smart, Guard-Captain. I don't want to work against you. I want to work with you." Aveline's mind suddenly flooded with soothing thoughts. Attempts at making Yuvar seem like a good person. Didn't he suddenly radiantly smile? Didn't he look like the Maker's hand had touched him? It seemed worthwhile to listen to him.
It only took one look at the bleeding, suffering Isabela to repel all those thoughts. It was him trying to control her, but Isabela was her anchor, stemming her against the tide of his control. "I will work with you. You have my full cooperation. No guards will harm you." She hesitated. "You should take her to where the rest of the scum is."
He bowed his head, secure in the knowledge that she was his to control now. If only he knew. His smile was slight. It deepened when Aveline walked over to kick Isabela in the side. The look of utter betrayal and pain in her amber eyes nearly broke Aveline. "The next caravan to Starkhaven will leave in two days. In the meantime we can keep her here."
Starkhaven. That was unexpected. But then, what an oversight, was it not known he was originally from Starkhaven? Everyone had assumed that he had a rendezvous point on the coast where he would sell those slaves off. Not that they were going to Starkhaven.
Yuvar moved his hand again, his gesture for using magic. Isabela was sobbing on the floor, near passed out from pain. She rose slowly and moved to sit on one of the benches. "Pray. Maybe one fine day you will understand, Rivaini heathen. Listen to the beautiful choirs here, singing the Chant of Light all day. Don't they fill your heart with longing for the Maker's return?" He sounded driven, as if he meant every word of it. He clearly was demented. He took Aveline's arm. "Let's go to the Keep and pay your office a visit. I would like to see your case notes."
It near broke Aveline's heart to hear the sobs behind her as she left the chapel. She was the worst protector in the world. Her middle name was betrayal. All the wrong actions, for the right reasons. Still wrong.
Sheet after sheet of careful case records were consumed with fire. Yuvar read every page, then tossed them in the flames of the fireplace in Aveline's office. It was early in the morning and thus no one had actually noticed her absence. He followed her into her office as supplicant mere minutes after she had arrived at the barracks. He was confident with his control over Aveline, and happy to destroy all records of his. How good it was that his control over her was so tenuous. She felt his touch and played along, but the deeper he tried to probe, the louder she heard Isabela's sobbing, the more vividly she saw the lines of blood dripping from her fingertips.
He finished burning the last record, and then turned towards her. She felt his probing thoughts like greedy tendrils, trying to ensnare her. He looked confused for a moment, then approached her, and quickly drew a knife. He sliced into her palm, then focused. She felt her mind going foggier, but she clung on to her anchor. She clung to the painful memory of those beautiful, amber eyes looking at her full of betrayal. She tried to look blank, as if the stinging pain in her hand meant nothing. Yuvar finally gave a nod. "I must take my leave now. I won't come back. You need to learn the operations, so I want you to come to Dead Man's Pass, in two days time, around the eighth hour. The caravan to Starkhaven will be there. Don't be late."
Aveline spoke in a toneless voice. "I will be there. In two days time." When he left, she bandaged her bleeding hand. Her red hair fell into her eyes. Her headband was gone. She tried to remember, and then called to mind the moment that Isabela had pulled off the headband in the dark, to caress her hair. She ran her uninjured hand through the red hair, and closed her eyes. Her silent tears were bitter.
She reached for a parchment, and started to write, leaving a bloody handprint on the sheet. It didn't matter.
Dear Hawke. Isabela is in grave danger. In two days time, she will be moved to Starkhaven, to be sold into slavery. Only you can stop this. Be at Dead Man's Pass at 8 o' clock. Prepare for blood magic. Bring the best. Prepare for the worst. I cannot tell you anymore than this at this time. I cannot save her on my own, I have failed to protect her.
This should rouse Hawke for certain. How she wished she could help Isabela on her own. She couldn't involve the guards. She could not appear corrupted. It had to be Hawke. She could not go back to the chantry. They would know. He would know.
It had to be Hawke.