Chapter Seven: Complications
My Love,
It has been days since I last wrote and I'm sorry for the silence. Things here have been insane on a Blight-level of crazy. There is a group of people in this city that have risen against the leadership and wish to overthrow the government.
I was attacked in the streets not three days ago. Don't worry. I was not injured.
I still have so many questions about Anders and what happened at the Chantry but I don't think I'll ever get to the bottom of all this. Not at this time. I almost think it'd be a better idea to just come home. I could let Kirkwall figure out Kirkwall.
It seems strange. I feel like I want to run away. But really I just want to be back with you. I miss you so much. I'm not ready to deal with another war without you by my side. Not again.
I don't know what I'm going to do yet but I'll keep you informed. I want to stay here for a few more days to see if everything plays out on its own. I love you.
I will be home soon either way.
Be safe,
E
~!~
Bethany and her cousin stand at the edge of the stairs leading up to the Keep. They're arm-in-arm, which happens regularly these days. While Marian and Solona share many similar features, there's a distinct resemblance between the mages that could never possibly be overlooked. They share the same thick, dark hair and the same vibrant green eyes. Today they even share outfits; they've spent the better part of the day at the Gallows, seeing to the new Apprentice Quarters and they are grimy with dirt and shade dust.
They're not even wearing robes, rather simple shifts tied at the waist and loose pants. They've nicked the clothes from the wash room and they could be anyone's, really.
They pause here at the steps and watch the guards change their shift. It's been almost a week since the night time attack on Lowtown and the Queen. And Cullen. One cousin's stomach drops at the thought of Cullen being hurt; the other prays to the Maker nightly to keep her sister and this city safe.
The city seems safe now. Really, it does. Marian turned up a den of detractors in the sewers under Darktown and had hauled off thirty men and women for questioning.
From what Bethany has heard from Aveline, they've let over half go with a stern warning.
"Why don't we just go to the estate for lunch?" Solona glances at her cousin, clearly uncomfortable with being here. She even looks back at the entrance to the Amell house. It's quiet there and she knows she won't run into the Queen. Or Cullen. She's avoided both since the night Cullen kissed her in the Pearl.
Bethany reaches down and gives her hand a squeeze. "Marian wants to treat us and you know how much I love harassing Bran." She gives Solona a winning smile. "Come on. Everything will be okay, Lona."
They climb the stairs and clear the door; Bethany holds tight to Solona the whole time. Inside they're greeted by everyone around them. Guards and nobles, commoners and politicians. They all smile at the pair and nods to them, calling them by name. Solona watches suspiciously at the people who address her.
The both of them are well known but they don't usually draw this much attention. Come to think of it, Solona recognizes a great number of denizens milling about in the entry hall. So many stand about that they are having a tough time navigating the stone floors to the stairs. The crowd hinders their every step.
"Something is wrong Beth."
Sharing a look, the two push their way up the stairs and head to Marian's office, only to find it standing empty. Bran's office is also empty and Bethany's hand tightens around Solona's. That's when they hear the yelling in the throne room.
The place is a madhouse when they arrive. A ring of guards tries to push their way through the main doors but they're being held back by a sea of arms from the inside. Solona reacts instinctively. Her rune hits the floor at the feet of the crowd and the guards. Everyone in the door freezes and the cousins struggle through the now paralyzed throng to enter the room.
Shouting and gesturing, the upper echelon of Kirkwall surges around the throne screaming for the heads of templar and mage alike. They carry no weapons but their voices rise in dissent; they cry for blood. The elder Hawke looks patient, sitting in her seat and trying to talk down the room with all the grace of her position. Solona and Bethany are unable to hear exactly what she says over the rumble of the crowd but it is clearly ineffective against their pleas.
The bright red of Aveline's hair and the glowing blue of Fenris's tattoos appear to be absent from this mess and Solona knows that this is all wrong. This is a recipe for disaster. Behind her then men and women the two of them had frozen are slowly coming out of the spell.
Not good at all.
"The mage! Get her!"
Oh Maker, preserve us.
A hundred pairs of eyes turn to the entrance and to the two mages. It's as though the tide is shifting; the press of bodies grows. Solona and Bethany are literally swallowed up by the crowd and Solona tries to fight to free her cousin. It takes a long, torturous moment to realize that all of the hands and pulling and grabbing are for her, not for Bethany.
"Lona! LONA!" Bethany's voice raises over the screaming that threatens to consume her senses and Solona wails back. She is panicked. She allows her skin to grow hot and wills fire to her fingertips. She aims for scalding and she hits her mark when a dozen pair of angry fingers releases her.
She has a moment of freedom as she teeters to right herself before more hands, more sharp fingernails and biting grips, pull her back again. Once more she calls forth her fire. At the edge of the crowd she thinks she can see Bethany and bursts of ice but she's pulled down, off her feet, and dragged by her upper arms. Those hateful hands are out of reach of her fiery palms but she can't do any more without truly hurting someone.
Solona can still hear her cousin, both her cousins actually, yelling her name. The mob around her shouts about keeping everyone back. They will kill her. They will drag her body through this city. Solona gets kicked once, twice. Her ribs are howling in pain at her now and another kick follows the first two. Her cries are cut short by coughing. The mob drags her into the entrance hall and she can't see anything except feet and flowing skirts all around her.
She waits for them to pull her out the front doors and down the stairs of the keep but instead she's thumped down a short flight of stairs. The Guards' Quarters? What in the Fade are they doing in here?
Aveline will stop them.
Somewhere over the frustrated yelling of her captors she can hear pounding and shouting on the first door they pull her past. The distinct Fereldan yells of the Guard Captain; barred in her own office? It sounds like it. She's pulling her head up, trying to glimpse the rooms around her, looking for help, when she is gagged and a rough sack is shoved over her head. Her vision goes dark.
~!~
The days are starting to get warm. Knight Commander Cullen shifts in his heavy armor and pulls at the scrap of fabric around his neck that keeps the sweat from dripping down his back. He pushes away the discomfort and tries to focus on the missive that sits in front of him. His request for funds from Orlais for rebuilding has been denied, pending an official review.
Official review can only mean an official inspection. He shudders at the thought of another Knight Commander in Kirkwall, looking at things. Poking around. Noticing he's completely in love with the freshly appointed First Enchanter.
Completely, totally, and hopelessly in love.
He's man enough to admit it. He's also smart enough to accept that he never really stopped loving Solona Amell. He spent years retraining, first in Denerim, then on a string of assignments until he'd landed in Kirkwall. In those early days he'd easily buried that emotion under the idea that something so wrong could only be hate, disguised. He'd tortured the poor woman with words and anger because he'd been stupid enough to believe Greagoir when the man had said she would never really love him. Because she was an abomination against the Maker.
Somewhere in the Anderfels he'd given up on the hate and just settled for apathy. Keep her away from him and he was fine. Kirkwall had been easier. There'd been too much to do in those early days following the Blight. But after the Blight he'd started dreaming about her again, wishing she'd just show up.
And then she did.
She just walked right back into his life without a warning and suddenly he's seventeen all over again, hoping to catch a whiff of her perfume outside the Apprentice Dorms.
He's been doomed from the start.
He thinks about her the same way he thinks about the sun. When it's gone, when she's gone, he is cold. He is alone and the world is dim. When she returns, when the sun rises again, he is full of warmth and life and the world is brilliant.
Right now, in this sweaty office with this irritating note he feels put out. He needs a burst of that radiance. He leaves his office in a rush, not even bothering with a sword, and treks over to the Apprentice quarters. He'd been informed of Solona and Bethany Hawke's arrival to clean hours ago and it has to be time for lunch. He'll invite her down to the food vendor by the Gallow docks.
The old man that cooks doesn't look terribly reputable but Cullen has yet to eat a bad meal at the stall.
He is all smiles when he pushes open the door to the sleeping quarters but it turns quickly into an irritated little frown when he realizes that there's no one in the room. He checks around bunk beds, freshly righted and scrubbed clean of the shade dust that's clung to everything in this complex for weeks. The room smells fresh but is free of Amells.
The closest guard he finds shrugs when he asks after the mages and he growls. Shouldn't his men be on the lookout? Sure, there's less than a dozen mages to keep track of but- Maker take them all. He stomps off towards the docks and immediately notes that the Viscount's barge the two always bring over is gone.
They must have gone back to Kirkwall.
He spends a total of five seconds contemplating turning around and going back to his office before he orders his own barge to be manned and he's off across the bay.
The breeze off the water feels heavenly under the heat of the midday sun. He turns his face skyward and smiles. He thinks back to that quiet conversation in the Rose. How Solona's cheeks had burned when he'd quieted her with a kiss. They hadn't really spoken since then; he has the feeling she's avoiding him out of embarrassment. She used to do that too, when they were younger-
"Knight Captain! Look!"
Cullen's eyes snap open and immediately find the man who's almost shouted at him in amazement. The man points and Cullen follows the gesture to find a most strange and shocking site. His jaw hangs open, in fact, when he processes the dozen or so ships in the Kirkwall Bay, flying the colors of the Imperium.
Half the ships have docked and streams of robe clad mages are running up the steps into the city. There are few spells; there seem to be no Kirkwallians in the area except for an unlucky few who meet a swift end. He watches a dock worker leave a warehouse only to explode in a fiery mess against the wall.
An invasion!
What?
His skiff is halfway across the water and he orders his men to turn it east, towards the far side of the Kirkwall docks and away from the ships. There are none docking here and he hopes the sunlight reflecting off the water will keep this hidden until they make land. Thinking as though, he and his men all crouch and try to move as little as possible.
Cullen is sweating again now, despite the cool breeze, and it has nothing to do with the daylight.
"Get me in close so I can get to the Keep then go back for the men. Leave a handful behind for the mages; see them safely underground to the dungeons and have them lock themselves in. Tell Knight Captain Agatha to bring the knights to this side of the docks."
He pauses. Sweat is dripping freely into his eyes now. He wipes his face with his neck scarf and looks back over the bay. They're close to the docks now, only thirty feet to go. "Tell her to meet me up at the back entrance to the Keep."
Cullen stands and prepares to jump. Behind him his oarsman hisses his name. He turns in time to catch the two-handed sword flying at him. Oh, yeah. He'd left the Gallows without a weapon. He nods his thanks and braces his right foot on the edge of the boat. As soon as the dock is close enough he pushes off and sails through the air. He lands with a thump and rolls to soften the blow. Behind him the skiff is already turning, heading back across the water.
He is alone on the dock as he watches his men navigate the very far side of the bay and make it to the Gallows. There are still no boats close to his position and he doesn't see any making a move towards the far side. He sends up a prayer to the Maker to keep the Imperium out of his territory before turning and dashing up the steep steps to the back of the Keep.
~!~
Elissa is woken with a shout and that distinct, acrid smell of fire; burning; flee. Her first thought is that she needs to wake the rest of the camp because Darkspawn are quick and they need to be quicker. But that's not right, can't be right, because she's in Kirkwall. She's in Kirkwall having an afternoon rest; still not healed and always so tired. She's in a city and there are no Darkspawn. She'd have felt them if there were.
The smell is real however as are the sounds of fighting just outside of her window. She feels a swell of magic and a blast of fire is released on the street. This is far too familiar to the night she lost her family.
She wastes no more time dissecting her surroundings and throws off the thin sheet covering her body. The window in her room is high and she drags a chair over so she can peek down at the street.
Three mages wearing Imperium robes attack a group of unarmed young men, hurling fireballs and blasts of ice from their staffs. The men are still burning; still frozen solid in some places, as the mages turn the corner and disappear from her sight.
The city is under attack.
She will not panic. She will not. She needs- she needs to find Marian.
But, first, she needs to put on some pants if she's going to fight evil.
Elissa is dressed and armed in moments. Her gear has been patched but it's not the best job ever. Her right elbow cop is out of sorts and she unbuckles it all together, leaving her still healing right forearm exposed. Nothing to be done for it, though. She is already opening the door before she thinks about grabbing her Warden Signet ring. This may be the sort of time to use her status if necessary.
Precious moments are further spent scratching out an explanation and a possible farewell to her husband on a piece of half used parchment. It almost breaks her heart to sign her name to the bottom but she does it anyway. Her lips close the seal with a kiss and she closes her eyes a moment to pray to the Maker. The noise on the street is getting louder and there are pounding feet at the stairs.
Her daggers are drawn when Santo pulls the door open. A sigh of relief escapes her lips but he looks so frightened she doesn't relax. She decides she should probably pack for a journey, just in case. "There are Magisters on the street. Is Kirkwall being invaded?"
The dwarf nods. "Yes, messere. But, it's worse than that. The city folk have kidnapped Solona."
That brings Elissa up short. Her expression is queer as she regards Santo as though daring him to call his bluff. When he doesn't she packs even faster. "Where are the Hawkes?"
"The Keep, I think. They just sent a messenger over to wake you and tell you to meet them there, if you are able."
Elissa nods and straightens, the pack slinging naturally over her back. "Thank you for telling me." In her hand she holds out her letter. "If I don't make it back please be sure to send this along to Alistair."
"Yes, messere. Be safe, messere."
She doesn't answer and the front door clicks behind her with finality.