Hesitation: Chapter seven; "The box".
"There was nothing inside
The memories left abandoned
There was nowhere to hide
The ashes fell like snow and the ground caved in
Between where we were standing
And your voice was all I heard."
The intoxicating smell of vomit, beer, humanity and piss all together was what made The Hangman... The Hangman. The blabbering, some whore playing her trick in the dark corners upstairs and the cheers of rancid beer served after hour and half of expectation until the waitress decided to attend them. Sticky was, not wanting to know the reason, the surface of their table where Hawke didn't seem to mind resting her pale hands as her thin fingers enclosed around the jar with piss-smelling beer, yet nothing of that seemed to bother her as she gulped its content with a smirk while Fenris was looking at the tavern helplessly wrinkling his nose.
They were waiting patiently, she said calmly that was important while her fingers tapped the upper side of a metallic box. In the time they were in that table she put the box over the table and her fingers paced over the cold surface of the box, occasionally rolling her eyes and glance at him sitting very straight in his chair and feeling uncomfortable with the ambience. He saw barracks filled with the most unattended slaves that smelled way better. Fenris eyed the door nervously tapping his fingers on his knee, how long would it take? Once they landed they went straight forward to there and she seemed to know the Lowtown as if it was the palm of her hand. Disturbingly good.
Was nothing but a Templar who approached the table and sit beside Hawke. His short dark red hair was tossed apart with one of his big hands showing his intense cerulean eyes sliding to the corners to glance at the little auburn haired mage. Hawke's lips curled into a smile for a moment, then she erased it turning to look at him. Something in her eyes, the way she moved so familiar and warmly towards that man made his insides hurt. Her hand hurried to brush his dark red hair with her fingers, smoothing his bangs and brushing them out of his face. The man lowed his head a little and placed his hand on top of her head, a weak and shy smile appeared in his lips.
-Carver. -She called softly, the tips of her fingers caressed the lobe of his ear.- I'm glad you're okay.
She was relieved. Her eyes seeking his but he didn't dare to gaze directly at these pure discolored blue orbs.
-Sister. -Carver grunted, moving her hand off. Ungratefully. Fenris arched a eyebrow and decided to look to other way, there wasn't anything he could do about it and in fact wasn't his business unless his Mistress told him to. He wanted to ask, but kept his mouth shut.- I didn't expect you would ever come back.
-My family is here. -She replied glancing her drink then his gauntlets on the table, clenched in fists.- Mother wanted to come here in first place.
-Not like we had many options. -Huffed the younger brother, who in fact looked older than the eldest sister.
-We didn't. But we worked hard. These four years. -Carver tensed at her words.- Do you still hate me, Carver?
-I don't hate you. -Was the rough, dry and short reply he gave to her.- I didn't join the Templars because I ever hated you. I just... couldn't stand to be your shadow anymore. I needed to find my own path in life.
Hawke smiled and sipped her beer.
-And I respect what you've done, Carver. I was mad at first because I thought you did it just to backstab me. Then I realized you're the only one in this family who had the bliss to be born without the magic curse. -Hawke breathed deeply.- The Circle is necessary.
Carver's lips tightened into a thin line, his eyes widen with surprise at her words. Fenris didn't understand what was going on but it seemed that open his mouth would result into getting in some deep thing between siblings.
-Ilsen. What do you want? -Finally snapped Carver folding his arms adobe his chest.- When you agree and be all nice it's extremely strange and means some catastrophe it's about to happen.
-So, I have this box... -She didn't deny his words and tapped again the metallic surface.- With human ashes in it.
-Oh Maker! -Carver slid his chair backwards horrified.- That's not something you put in the table while drinking!
-Why not? -Hawke tilt her head and looked at the box.- I suspect the... let's say person before being roasted, was quite suspicious and I think it's not the person I think it is so I need someone who can detect if blood magic was used to let's say change his looks and etcetera.
-Is that even possible? -Carver leaned to peek around the box, curiously like a little puppy.- I mean, why you care?
-My life depends of that suspicion. Carver, I know we don't get along but we both know if it was your life I would jump into the fade to save it.
There was a long silence. None of the Hawke's looked at each other and instead their eyes met the floor as their eyebrows curved in a silent wincing expression. The Templar's mouth twitched aside while Ilsen's remained quiet and shut, what was in their minds was the chain of events four years ago. How the blight devastated their homeland, the runaway, the fact none of them could save Bethany nor help and gained their mother's hatred for that. She quickly forgave Carver but Ilsen seemed unworthy of her forgiveness, Leandra Amell seemed more concerned about the fact her little boy would have to fight against apostates and blood mages than her heir leaving to the empire where the cynical Magisters ruled and the slavery was legal. That's didn't seem to bother her a little bit, after all she built a reputation for her in Kirkwall and the Amell's name was echoing again to please the noblewoman inside her. Just thinking about her made the mage punch the table making the jars and the box jump upside down.
Carver then decided to break the silence.
-Why not Merrill or Anders?
-If I have to read one more time Anders' manifesto I... I don't even have words to describe what I'd do. And Merrill... She probably would name the ashes and keep them into her house as memento. So, no. -Hawke rolled her eyes before grab her jar and gulp its content empty.- I thought the first enchanter would know. I can't trust Tervinter's mages.
-I'll see what I can do, but I won't promise anything. -Carver glanced at the box and gritting his teeth then picked it up before bid his farewells.- I'll go to the estate if I'm successful, if not, I'm at the Gallows... You know, for a visit or something.
-That's sweet from you. -Hawke said smiling which was answered with her brother's huff as he turned on his heels and exited the Hangman. Fenris finally looked at her, he could swear that now he memorized all the stains of the floor and the ceiling.- Fenris, if it was my choice I'd stay here rather than in my own house.
She chuckled lifting her empty jar and called the waitress.
Oh Kirkwall how much I missed you! That's what thought. Nice chats, Wicked Grace, adventures... Once I paid a visit to everyone the nightfall got us exiting the Lowtown and forcefully I had to go to the estate, with Fenris questioning look darting on the back of my neck. He was as tired as I was or even more after Isabela's blasting flirt almost ignoring my presence even though I'd swear she insinuated a threesome few times in that talk. We spent more time giving each other rolling eyes than actually talking to the infamous captain. If it was my choice, I'd sleep in the chantry like some tramp.
The walls painted with warm colors just to make the Amell's crest stand out and reflect the dancing flames of the fireplace. But that was before the distinguished entry, a gray yet some lavender hues made it look less cold, it was little room with stone benches and an archway showed the excellence of nobility that shun upon the Amell family once and seemed to be clung by the woman looking at the flames dance with her arms folded over her chest.
Her hoary long hair fell in a low and short ponytail, caressing the silky fabric of her yellow and purple long dress. A short woman with the stoic gesture of a warrior about to slay dragons, her resolute cerulean eyes as cold as ice seemed to be filled with bitter hatred as the fire devoured the wood and hit sideways the stone build fireplace. Gray curls fell framing her face hit by the time though aforetime Leandra Amell was a beautiful woman. The hands that should be silky and delicate were rough and withered punished by farm work.
Once the steps of both of them set foot over the red carpet covering the main hall the woman tilt her head elegantly to eye them by the corner of her big eyes, so much like Hawke's except the color more vivid and glacial. Leandra's eyebrows seemed to be dragged down and force a frown spread across her wrinkled forehead at the sight of her eldest daughter coming back to her home. Rather than happy to have her back the woman's disgust was easier to notice than a drunk ogre dancing popular music.
Leandra's hands seemed to clench at the sides of her arms almost clawing her flesh and give Hawke a stern look that even froze Fenris in the spot. These eyes were so much alike to Danarius' but without flattery or feigning contempt.
-An elf? -Leandra's coarse voice echoed through the walls, she didn't raise her voice but it sounded as if she could hardly contain herself not to. With a short mew smile she cleared her throat and advanced towards them, calmly like a panther preying. The elf couldn't help but glance at Hawke now understanding what she said that she'd prefer to rent a room in the Hangman before having to go to home.- How much more are you going to shame me?
Hawke frowned seeming more concerned at the fact her mother seemed to easily insult him, somewhat, than the fact she thought Hawke brought him just to shame her mother.
-You come back home with a slave and what you expect me to do? Praise you? -At her words, Hawke pushed Fenris behind her as if trying to protect him from these words.
-What makes you think he is a slave? Just because is an elf doesn't mean he is a slave. Maker's balls!
-Don't lecture me, it was your fault Bethany died! -Temper overpowered Leandra and her voice rose. Then lowed into a thin shaky tone.- We couldn't even bury her...
-Of course, it was my fault. It was my fault the blight on Ferelden, it was my fault we had to run away, it was my fault that while I was with Carver few feet away fighting Dark Spawn a monster came and Bethany decided to fight it to save your life. Such disgrace of a child I am! Maybe you should have thought about that before elope pregnant with a fugitive apostate who fled from The Circle of Magi. -His Mistress voice thundered, her whole body was trembling against his holding back to do not cry. The way she seemed to spill every word from her mouth sounded as if she wanting to say these words her whole life and didn't find the strength to do so until that moment. Leandra glared at them while Hawke placed her hand around his waist to limp upstairs to her room, ignoring any word coming from her mother's mouth.
Once the door closed behind them and Fenris did as commanded to lock it she limped to the big bed amid jasmine scented sheets and seemed to just throw herself and silently cry hiding her face with the pillow. He sat beside her, not knowing what to do his hand landed on top of her head, her auburn curls seemed to tangle around his fingers and the elf just caressed her hair softly and caringly letting her switch the pillow for him lap. He even let her lock her arms around his waist as she did that. Hawke needed him more than she would ever need anyone.
Yet she had nothing to fear, he was there to serve and please his dear Mistress.
-Fenris, -She sobbed quietly nuzzling his abdomen- will you abandon me? After all I'm despicable.
-Pardon?
-My little sister's death... was really my fault, I couldn't protect Bethany. -Her grasp became stronger, she was asking if he would abandon her yet she clung onto him as if her life depended of it. The intensity of her words sounded as if she convinced herself what she was saying was true.
-Mages are despicable and corrupted. -Hawke froze at his words.- You proved yourself worthy, capable and you must be doing something right because I respect you. You're the first mage who protected, cared and gave me the treatment an equal would deserve. I was cruel to you, and you acted as it was normal and I had the right to hurt you deliberately. In fact I'd be a fool for trying to escape from your grasp.
-Fenris. -She called his name softly as turning to look at him, her cheeks wet and the eyes releasing the last tears to slid across her rosy skin.- Maybe it wasn't the first time every girl dreams, but I enjoyed the... 'passion' you put in it. It made my chest throb and my head spin. Did I oppose to your actions? I could've burned your face but that, would be waste a perfectly handsome elf. Don't you think?
Fenris awkwardly laughed at her last words.
-You spoil me way too much. -He whispered, her husky voice caressing her ears and making her insides tingle as his hands warped around her waist pulling her down the bed.- Shall I be content or concerned?
Hawke slid her hand to his chin and managed to give him a smug smirk.
-When my wounds are totally healed. Yes? -Her neck arched to tenderly kiss his lips then started mumbling something as showering his face with delicate kisses.- Because I... towards... you...
Few days later Hawke got a reply from Orsino. She was sitting before the studio's fireplace and her face as her eyes flip through the piece of paper showed disgust and bitter resentment. As if something proved her thoughts hoping to be all wrong. The cerulean discolored eyes of hers slid to him before push the letter into a ball and throw it to the flames.
Danarius was alive.
Somewhere.
Notes: It's a very short chapter I know, but there will no be any new chapter until next week because I'm delivering my laptop to the tecnics.