Chapter Five: Parry
It's much later, just past dusk. Elissa enjoys this Kirkwallian wine, very much so, she muses. It is sweet and yet tangy. It makes her throat burn a little on the way down but it's delicate in a way the ales of Ferelden never are. She thinks she must be a little drunk the way she's laughing with Marian and she is so glad she got to meet this woman. Hawke is sarcastic and open with her in a way few have been these last years. They share their stories of conquests while the hour grows late.
She meets Bethany, the younger Hawke. She is polite and knowledgeable. She stays for only a moment, begging sleep. Elissa watches her leave and notes the smile of affection on Marian's face. She's been told about the Blight and the losses the Hawke family has suffered over the years. Having lost her own parents, Elissa can understand. She thinks that Marian was able to build herself a new family though, much like Elissa did. Aveline and Fenris both seem devoted to the Champion.
Not minutes after Bethany departs upstairs, Solona appears. She looks like a wreck when she enters the doorway of the sitting room and when she sees Elissa is there her features become even stormier. Marian is on her feet and has her arms around the mage in moments. The cousins embrace tightly but between her hiccups and Marian's cooing it is impossible to decipher what's happened to cause this break down. Marian gives Elissa a knowing look, man trouble, and she can nod in understanding.
This is the ending to their night, she realizes, as Marian leads Solona up to her room and appears moments later to say good-night. The evening is young and she has no qualms about walking back to the Keep. She knows there are a few guards waiting outside, city or templar. She'll be safe and Marian sees her to the door.
It's a surprise to see Cullen standing in the courtyard outside the Hawke Estate. He's pacing and muttering under his breath and when the door clicks shut behind Elissa he snaps his eyes to her. He also looks like shit. Whatever is between him and Solona it is trying on the both of them.
"Your Highness." He faces her and bows shortly.
"Knight Commander." She returns the bow.
"If you're ready to return to your rooms I'm at your service, Highness."
She can't get past the clipped tones and nervous shuffle of his movements but she nods and allows him to lead the way back up to the Keep. The foyer leading to the gates of the Keep are shadowed as they pass and she thinks she sees movement behind a pillar.
She thinks Cullen must have seen it as well because he pauses and holds out an arm. "Hold." He's whispering. Her hands reach to her back and she grasps the handles of her blades. She can hear the whistle of an incoming arrow at the same moment Cullen shoves her to the side, whirls and brings up his shield. The arrow thunks into the metal and penetrates with enough force to bury itself several inches in the shield.
The arrow seemed to be some sort of signal and Elissa is aware of the bodies filling up the courtyard.
They drip from the shadows and walls, a dozen. Two dozen. At least thirty fighters surround her and Cullen and she effortlessly falls into a defensive stance. Cullen, at her back, raises his shield and gives a mighty roar.
The mob closes in.
Elissa keeps herself in shape with daily practice and constant excursions into the Deep Roads. She is better at this game now than she was when she killed the Arch Demon and she almost laughs at the ease with which she cuts through her first four kills. A blade catches her in the upper arm for her cockiness and she swears at her attacker as she drops her right blade reflexively.
She needs to back up, just a bit. She needs to see the layout of battle. The men in front of her follow. She can feel blood dripping from her wound but she can't quite see the full extent of the damage. There's nothing for it now, she thinks, and reaches into a back pocket for a smoke bomb.
She easily outflanks the five engaging her and with a flurry of well-trained moves cuts through them as well. She's facing the bulk of the fighting now and she sees the Cullen is surrounded. Blades ring loudly against his armor; chest and back are both subject to a flurry of blows that bounce off. They cannot penetrate but he must feel like he's being tumbled around in metal.
Elissa runs and jumps. For a split second she hovers in the air before her blade comes down into the back of an attacker's neck. The man can't even gurgle out a warning before she's spun away and kicked another in the side of the head. That one dies with a calculated stab between the neck and shoulder. A hand grabs the back of her armor and tugs. She flies backwards and flips to regain her footing. The world spins.
Three blades come darting toward her; the first misses her midsection by inches. The second swipes uselessly at the air where her head was just a moment before. The last crashes to the ground at her feet as the man's over headed swing misses her altogether. She kicks away the third sword, bringing her foot up again to jab out sharply with her shin. It cracks into the man's face and send him sprawling. One of the other two takes another desperate swipe at her back and she feels the tip of the sword barely scrape across her armor. It does not penetrate.
She's whirling her dagger in a wide arch behind her when another arrow penetrates the throng and lodges itself between her palm and the curl of the dagger in her fingers. She screams; its long and drawn out and so very full of anger. She can see the men she was about to kill smile and advance. She's got no weapon and a lame hand.
Planting her feet, she backflips. The move is a combination of springing and striking out and she kicks one man in the face while pushing away from the mob. Another smoke bomb hides her retreat towards the stairs. She cannot see Cullen and the steps are clear of bodies. Where has he gone?
There are still men around. She can hear the fiends yelling obscenities to one another farther towards the Keep. She hears one distinctly call out not to hurt the Knight Commander. A voice answers something but it's lost in the sound of a throat being slit. The first voice call for a retreat but this man is also silenced. Cullen must be carving through the bandits if the cries of death and pain are any indication.
Elissa can't see anyone in her immediate vicinity but she does see one of her lost daggers. She swipes it up and then another attacker is on her. He bowls her over and she's jarred as she lands; her head bounces off the stones and she sees flashes of light in her vision. The man ends up rolling over her hand, the one with the arrow in it, and she screams loudly as the wood is splintered within her flesh.
He's got her throat in a choke hold and an arm above his head, poised to drive the knife he holds into her body. Her hand is on fire; she tries to draw a breath but can't.
Elissa closes her eyes for just a moment and then she snaps them open; at the same time she brings her only dagger up and into the man's side. He roars but doesn't let go of her neck. She stabs him again. This time he leans back and tries to pull away from her assault. She swipes her blade across his throat and his blood arches over her body, coating her.
The man's body is falling on her and then it's suddenly flung away. Cullen stands in front of her, bathed in blood. The wet glint of his armor makes him a fearsome warrior in front of her. His eyes are wide with fury. She thinks that this is the second Cullen, the one from Denerim. Any moment now he'll stab straight through her.
What happens, though, is he pulls her up and spews an angry litany of words in the process. He's looking her over for injuries, she realizes, when he grabs at her arm and then her opposite wrist. His hand comes away red when he checks the back of her head and she hears a few more choice phrases before he cups her jaw and centers her gaze on his eyes. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
She must be in shock. She can only shake her head before he grabs her good upper arm and pulls her down the stairs, away from the Keep. She makes it three steps and then falls to her knees. She almost drags Cullen down with her but he doesn't pause. He pulls her back to her feet and then swings her into his arms.
Every step he takes is jarring. Her hand is on fire and her vision is still spotty. She needs to stay awake; she forces her eyes to track the buildings around them. They pass the Hawke estate and turn inland. Elissa hasn't been to this part of the city yet. Cullen brings them to a door lit by soft golden light and marked by a red rose in the middle of the frame. He kicks the door and it opens a moment later, letting a soft light bathe them both.
There are healers swarming around them when they enter the main room and she's pulled away from him. Gentle hands get her to a cot along a wall. This must be the make shift infirmary and Chantry she's been told about. The air here doesn't have a dirty smell, not like the clinic in Darktown. It smells really nice here, like soft perfume and seductive women. Behind the hung sheeting that offers a modicum of privacy and the well-dressed aides that rush around to assist the injured she sees decadence on the walls.
She can't be sure she is seeing what she is. Could this b brothel?
Elissa opens her mouth to start asking questions when Cullen reappears in front of her. "There was another attack in Lowtown tonight as well. The city guard was responding to that one when we were set upon. I need to find some of my men so we can route any remaining murderers." He kneels and brings their faces level. He grabs her good hand; his armor is cold against her skin. She feels like she's burning up. "If you need anything, ask one of the healers. I'll have the Viscountess notified of your location on my way to the Gallows."
She thinks she might imagine the squeeze he gives her hand but she doesn't mistake the relieved smile on his face when he leaves. She holds the hand close to her chest and watches him go.
What in the Fade has just happened?
-!-
Marian counts off the dead as she walks the line of bodies. Seven city guards, sixty-seven thieves, and one templar. The thieves are all from Kirkwall. She recognizes a few from the mine, a dozen or so from the Coterie and a few merchants from Lowtown. Citizens. Her own people. She should be panicked and worried; strangely she's calm.
Behind her she hears Cullen's clipped steps and she glances back at him. He's more than ragged around the edges, the morning sun glints off the gold of his hair and the blood that's still damp within the locks. He is exhausted. When he catches her looking at him her gives her a grim smile and walks to the line.
"Do you have names for any of the attackers?"
"How is the Queen?"
They speak at the same time and Marian wants to laugh at the absurdity but she can't because she is also exhausted. Cullen had pounded on her door not an hour after she'd seen Elissa out. He'd been covered in blood, standing in the foyer, when she'd rushed down the stairs. She'd been in her night clothes. His face had told the story of a terrible battle and he'd filled her in. By the time she'd donned her armor and sent her sister and cousin back to bed it'd been almost a full hour. The fight had still been raging in Lowtown and she'd chased a group of men into Darktown and the sewer.
The sky had already been lightening by the time she'd made it back up to Hightown and the mess outside her front door. She hadn't even had time to check on her family or the Queen. She'd just kept going. Like she always does, she pushed and her body sure is angry at her now for it. She rolls her head first to one side and then the other. Bones and tendons pop back into alignment and she rubs a dirty palm against the back of her neck. "Go ahead, Cullen." She inclines her head and waits for him to repeat his earlier question.
"Names of the attackers?"
"None yet but I know a few by their faces. I've sent guards to Darktown and Lowtown to question any possible relatives." He nods and looks down to the bodies, his gaze lingering on the templar. Marian doesn't know her name but surely Cullen does. "How is the Queen? I haven't even been able to see her."
Cullen is still staring down at the woman templar. He brings up a hand and runs it through his short hair. "I don't know for certain. She was alive when I left her. The bandits slashed open her upper arm and put an arrow through the opposite palm. They cracked her head pretty good and she was fairly disoriented when I left her. She should be okay, though. The healers seemed optimistic."
A frown creases Marian's brow as she considers the situation. She's dealt with bandits and thieves and murderers her entire life in Kirkwall. She wishes this would be just like those other times. That she'd find a headquarters somewhere and be able to kill a leader and take back the city.
She's pretty sure she's become the bandit leader now; that her city is fighting against her rule.
Anders had once told her that his mother tongue had a word for a sudden and violent overthrow. He'd called it a putsch and she'd been chilled when he'd described the urgency necessary. It was what he'd said the mages had needed.
She's got that same chill at her back right at this moment and she shivers. Next to her Cullen shifts. "I'm worried."
When he looks back at her she can see the same concern on his face. "Yeah. Me too."
The sun rises over Kirkwall fully and the two leaders just look down at the line of death at their feet.
~!~
Cullen gets a moment's rest sometime in the afternoon.
On his desk is a half-finished letter to Ser Ruvena's family, informing them of their loss. He thinks that it's terrible that she survived a mage uprising and Meredith's insanity only to die fighting bandits.
The world has never really made sense but the last few weeks have been especially nonsensical. He frowns all the time now.
Last night, when he'd dropped Solona off at home, he'd kissed her.
She had slapped him and then ran inside.
Cullen closes his eyes against the light slipping through his curtains and tries to relax. He breathes deeply through his nose. He remembers when he'd learned calming exercises in Denerim, after the Tower. After the final fight, the Fall of the Archdemon, he'd still been so lost and it'd taken months in solitude to calm the mess of his mind.
He pulls to mind that peace that he'd found; the lay sisters kept telling him to let go of his anger and to serve the Maker. At the time all he'd been able to think about was that it was the Maker who'd done this to him. It was the Maker who'd put mages in the world. It was the Maker who'd created such a creature as Solona Amell and it was the Maker who'd created Uldred and his army of blood mages.
He'd come to understand that it wasn't the Maker's fault. The Maker had given them all a choice. These were the choices that had doomed so many over the years.
At this moment, with his body still aching from the fight early in the morning and blood still drying on his skin, he tells himself that his choices have lead him here.
The choices that Solona Amell made have also brought her here.
There must be meaning in this.
As Cullen closes his eyes and tries to push away his conscious thoughts he thinks of Solona as she was so many years ago. It is her relieved smile, thanking him for keeping the worst of the templars at Kinloch Hold from harming her, that sees him off to sleep.
There is meaning in this as well.
~!~