Part 25
The Griffin
The next few days aboard The Griffon were rather unpleasant for Astlyr and her people. Cullen and Myfanwy were the worst hit by sea sickness and spent much of their time curled up below decks suffering, though Cole was diligently at their sides to offer help and the use of his soothing magics. Astlyr found she had little tolerance for being below. The ceiling was low ever for a human, and she was constantly striking her horns on beams and hanging lanterns. That, coupled with a deep feeling of claustrophobia, kept her on the deck at almost all times. She could only be persuaded to go below to briefly visit poor Cullen and to eat when invited to the captain's cabin for dinner.
At least Cullen had been given his own small cabin, rather than bunking with the rest of the crew, as the others did. Astlyr was offered the same, but she declined, preferring to sleep on the deck, no matter how chilly it became at night. Below decks not an ounce of space was wasted and everything had a place. She knew that to make space for her to have her own accommodations would destroy the harmonious setup so she felt she had made the right choice on all counts. She wrapped herself in furs and a boat-cloak of sealskin and settled in, often in a seated position so as to be out of the way of the crew. Few bothered her, as their own qunari, Six, had the same proclivities. He too seldom ventured below if he could help it. Astlyr attempted conversation with Six several times as they both settled in for a night under cold stars, but he merely glared or grunted.
"It's because you're a female," Finna explained the next day as the two women leaned against the railing watching the roiling sea seem to attack the ship. The Griffon was a bluff little vessel and surged through the choppy waters as easily as she might have a calm sea.
"Because I'm female?" Astlyr cocked her head.
"Six is Tal-Vashoth, but he was raised in the qun. Went a bit bonkers after a while though, I'm told. He was obsessed with being the best at his duties and even pulled out of his own horns in an attempt to be more highly valued."
Astlyr winced. Six didn't sound terribly stable. Was he really the sort of person one wanted to have with you in a tightly enclosed, floating society? "I think I have heard that some qunari are born hornless," she said, opting to be diplomatic.
"And them without horns are considered to be special. Some qunari even cut off their horns to try to be more like them. Six went the extra mile and pulled one of his right out. Pain must have been pretty bad though. He didn't do the other." Finna chuckled as though this were perfectly normal behavior. "'Course they sent him to be reprogrammed and he went through the system, but I guess it didn't stick because he ran off not long after."
"What does this have to do with my being female?" Astlyr asked, wiping a bit of salt spray from her cheek before it could freeze there. Her skin was already getting quite rough after only a few nights of sleeping on the deck.
"Qunari think that females can never be warriors. Can never be anything but what their gender roles assign. You're not only a renowned warrior, but you're also 'The Herald'. It doesn't mesh with his world view, so he settles for being extra sullen with you." Finna leaned back, gripping the rail as she scrutinized a knot above her in the shrouds. Satisfied that it was not coming loose she turned back to Astlyr.
Astlyr sighed, but decided that this was all she could really content herself with. If Six wanted to treat her differently that was his problem. "I thought he left the qun."
"Some things are more ingrained than others," Finna shrugged.
"Does he feel that way about the other women on board?"
"Nah. We're not qunari," Finna said, smiling a little cheekily.
"Oh I am blessed," Astlyr snarked. Finna chuckled and gave Astlyr's arm a friendly punch. "So what is it like as an Avvar so far from your clan?" Astlyr questioned then, glancing sideways at the woman. She had not seen many Avvar, but best she could tell Finna had the look. Muscular and tall with high cheekbones. Her skin might have been pale once, but it was stained tan by months at sea. She wore no facepaint, unlike the other Avvar that Astlyr had met."
"My people don't think much of my chosen profession," Finna admitted with a wan smile. "I never much fit in with my clan. I've had wanderlust since I was a child. Left as soon as I was able, before some man could get it into his head to come and try to marry me. I was never the marrying type," she chuckled.
Astlyr recalled hearing somewhere that Avvar matrimony was a complicated affair involving knots being untied and a ritual song being sung. She decided not to press, as Finna seemed completely content here, aboard The Griffon. "How do you find the chantry folk?" she asked instead, gesturing to the sunburst flag which flew above them, whipping noisily in the harsh wind.
"Good sorts, for the most part. Bit funny about some things, but that's anyone, really," Finna said, letting her hood fall back to reveal a nutmeg brown braid. "Some can be a bit much at times. Especially when they find out how the Avvar feel about spirits. They come around, of course. And you're their Herald eh? What's that like?"
"Interesting," Astlyr said with a was smile. "It's strange to be considered to be chosen of a deity that I don't even believe in. I hate the bowing and scraping. Most of the Chantry folk I deal with are used to me. I won't tell claim to be the Herald, but if they insist on believing it, and it gives them some kind of comfort, I won't go out of my way to ruin their faith."
"Sounds like that's about all you can do," Finna said, shrugging angular shoulders. Then she turned, shouting at a passing crewman, "Nori! You're two bells past due for your shift, you pathetic little sot! Get up that mast and relieve Lika or I'll skin you alive and wear your face as a new hat!" The woman gave Astlyr a quick smile and roll of her eyes before hurrying off to deal with other unruly crewmen.
Astlyr watched the Waking Sea churn all around them, laughing at the first officer's colorful language and idly wondering if she should try it out herself. The sea seemed to have a mind of its own, as did the wind, especially as they moved past the Frostbacks. Twice they had had to take in sail for fear the high and unpredictable winds would tear them, or even damage one of the ship's two masts. Soon enough the weather should begin to grow warm and they would move inland a bit as the sea broke off into a river, but for the moment the air remained frigid and unpredictable. Twice per day crewmen had to scrape the deck as a thin layer of ice formed, making the going treacherous. Yet the sea was entrancing, in its own way. Each choppy wave wore a cap of white like a range of tiny, shifting mountains, and the sky was bluer than Astlyr had seen in a long while.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?"
Astlyr turned. Cullen had come up onto the deck. He was wrapped in a blanket and looked a bit green around the edges, but smiled warmly at her. He walked to her and leaned against her looking out over the rail. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the icy air refresh him.
"How are you feeling?" Astlyr questioned, watching his still features. She liked the way the sun washed over his skin, even if it was a little pale at the moment. The frigid air pushed back his hair and made the tops of his ears turn pink.
"I'm getting better. Every time I step off a ship I lose my sea legs instantly. I suppose I am just more of a land dweller," he sighed.
Astlyr rested her cheek on the top of his head. "You sailed to Kirkwall only have to turn around and come right back," she recalled.
"Well, I was stationed there for a while, but after the whole Chantry and Circle situation over there I decided it was prudent to come back home."
"I'll bet you regret that now," Astlyr sighed.
"Not for a second," his fingers found hers and interlaced. A passing crewman saw them and made a lewd remark, but walked on in a hurry when he was met with a warning glare from Astlyr.
"How are things below?" she asked.
"Well, Varric is taking over, essentially," Cullen reported, not moving from his position tucked in against her. "He's got everyone playing Wicked Grace every night and has himself set up as some kind gambling official. He oversees all the games and collects a cut of the winnings."
"And no one had caught on?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I am certain they have, but they don't seem to care. He's taken young Myfanwy under his wing and she's his partner in crime already. I suspect he's a bad influence, but I don't have the energy to stop him," he chuckled dryly. "As you know, Cole has been helping us with the seasickness, though we are, for the most part, recovered. I'm taking a bit longer because of the damned lyrium," he waved his free hand in an annoyed gesture. "It takes me longer to recover from illness and wounds since I stopped taking it." Astlyr made a sympathetic sound but he gestured away her concern as well. "I don't regret stopping for a second. It's the way I live now, plain and simple. No use pitying me for every little thing."
"Right. No more pity," Astlyr said, trying her best to sound stoney. She kissed the top of his head, at the same time, so she wasn't certain her tone convinced him of anything. His stiffened suddenly, pulling away. "What is it?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," he said, and he sounded it. "I'm still getting used to...well, to your height. Please don't be insulted," he added hastily, looking up at her with pleading eyes, "This is my issue and I need to come to terms with it. You're the woman I want, and if you're a bit taller than I fist envisioned myself with, well then I am the one who needs to change my view."
Astlyr found that she was beaming. She gave him a one-armed hug, and was careful not to place her cheek back onto the top of his head. She could help him get over the notion as well, she decided. She pressed on with the conversation, knowing neither of them needed to linger. "So Cole's been helping and Varric is teaching Myfanwy to gamble. How's Fen?" She had seen him up on deck plenty of times. He seemed to prefer it almost as much as she did. However, he seldom spoke to anyone, including her. True it had only been a few days, but she still felt his quiet absence.
"He seems well enough," said Cullen, who seemed to have the same feeling on the subject as Astlyr. "I think we are all eager to have our feet on dry land again."
"Well, the land we're heading onto is dry, that's for certain," Astlyr chuckled. She picked absently at the varnish on the rail.
"I've never been in a true desert," Cullen admitted. He gave a little shiver, "right now it sounds wonderful, but I imagine I will feel differently once I've spent a few days there."
"The Approach is no Hissing Wastes," Astlyr told him, "It could be much worse."
"That's reassuring," the templar snarked.
Slowly the weather grew warmed as The Griffon made its way well past the Frostbacks and into Orlaisian waters. They even saw a few ships, brightly colored sails flouting the sky. Count on the Orlaisian people to be flamboyant, even with their water crafts. Astlyr, who was, as ever, on deck heard Six grunt as he too stopped to take in the smaller, sleeker vessels. "Probably hauling some spoiled Vints back and forth." Astlyr jumped. These were the most words she had ever heard Six string together in her presence. She supposed he hated 'vints' more than he loathed a female qunari who didn't know her place. She smiled to herself. It was something.
The Griffin, already flying its chantry banners, also hoisted an Inquisition flag, just to be safe. This allowed them to sail freely past the few Orlaisian ports they saw. They did spy a few patrol ships out and about on the even choppy waves, but no one stopped or threatened.
The mood aboard The Griffin was greatly improved as they sailed towards warmer climes. Cullen and Myfanwy had found their sea legs and often joined the crew on deck at dusk. Varric moved his card games from the hold and soon each evening was the site of general celebration and good-hearted competition. Music would even be played and sometimes there was dancing.
The Griffin finally turned inland, following a deep and wide river which would lead them closer to the Wastes. The banks were sandy and high, eroded by the rushing salt waters. The weather was almost too warm during the day, but the evenings were still as busy as ever. One night Astlyr came aft after helping some of the crew tie down the foresail more securely to the bowsprit. She raised her brow as she saw two crewmen painting out a sloppy circle on the desk with thin white paint.
She guessed that this must be a fighting ring of some kind because several others stood to the side, already shirtless and flexing their muscles to show off. Varric was moving through the gathering crowd, getting a feel for how the betting on this event might go. Myfanwy followed along behind him.
"What is this?" Astlyr questioned one of the men she had been working with.
"We don't exactly have a name for it," the man said, seeming pleased to have been addressed. By the expression of adoration on his face, Astlyr guessed that he was probably Andrastian. "The goal is to either pin your opponent so he can't get up, or to knock him down down bad he doesn't want to." the man said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his raggedy coat and rocking back on his heels. "The captain is one of the best. He's a wily fighter, he is."
Astlyr watched as the ring was finished, the paint as dry as it could get, considering the constant wash of spray that still found its way onto the deck. Then the first two fighters stepped up. The battle was fascinating. It wasn't like any wrestling that Astlyr had ever seen. Punching and kicking was allowed. It also seemed to involve a decent amount of strategy and grappling. She guessed that she would be particularly poor at this style. With a blade she could best most, and certainly she could punch hard enough to cave in a man's face, but she knew neither of those skills would come in much handy here.
She noted, as the nights passed and the activity continued, that Six rarely fought and always won when he did so. He usually stood like a mountain, his foes raining blows upon him to little effect. Then he would merely grapple and pin, using his bulk against them. Only the bravest, or most foolish, tried Six.
Varric was in his element, moving through the crowd drumming up bets and excitement for each fight. Talking up the fighters, even making up details, much to the crew's amusement. "Why young Fester here was raised by two of the best and noblest fighters in all Fereldan! The famous "Slaying Sorrets!"
"Sorren," the man corrected the dwarf. "My family name is Sorren."
"As I said, the famous fighting Sorrens!"
The entire situation confused Cole greatly. "They don't want to hurt each other, yet they want to win a game where the goal is to hurt each other," the boy said, on more than one occasion as he took in a match.
"It's a little like a practice match back home," Astlyr offered the boy.
"Except you and Cassandra are trying to get better, not just beat each other," Cole pointed out, tilting his head, his hat flopping as they watched the bout finish up with a pinning. Varric moved through the watchers, distributing winnings.
"Remember, Cole, the ship's healers, including Fen'Harel, are on hand to fix people up as soon as a match is over." This was true and the most severe wound she had seen was a broken hand. There were many bruises, and some blood, but nothing overly dangerous. The boy seemed placated for the moment.
As she and Cole watched, awaiting the next bout, Cullen strode over and situated himself at her other side watching as the captain took his place to in the ring against an uncertain looking crewman. Varric and Myfanwy moved around the outside of the fight. The most money was on the captain.
Captain Kale handily dispatched the fight. Quick punches combined with a skilled grapple ended the battle almost before it had begun. The crew laughed and cheered as their leader stepped coolly from the ring, clapping his opponent on the back. "Good fight Leena. You're getting better."
"Thank you sir," the woman said, looking pleased, even at her quick loss.
Astlyr tilted her head towards Cullen, "have you thought about giving it a try?"
"Maker, no," the templar chuckled. "I fear I would be completely out of my league."
"Me too," she chuckled, scrutinizing the crowd to see who would step up next. The sun was beginning to set between the distant Tevinter mountains to the north. The roiling waves shimmered with a ruby glow and Astlyr relished the fresh smell of the water. She turned her attention back to the ring where Six was now standing, shirtless and stoic, brown-grey skin achieving a sheen in the sunset light. No one seemed eager to try their luck against the man.
A smirk tugged the corner of Six's down-turned mouth. Astlyr wondered if most qunari ever smiled. Were all qunari supposed to be stoic, and she and Iron Bull an exception rather than the rule? Six's eyes scanned the crowd. Several crewmen chuckled, put up their hands to indicate that they would not challenge him. Then a small figure stepped gracefully into the ring. "Fen?" Astlyr rasied an eyebrow. The slender elf looked like a child before the qunari. Fen'Harel stripped off his tunic so he too was bare chested. He was pale, ribby, with lean muscle. Nothing to the rippling pecks and biceps of his opponent.
Astlyr glanced towards Myfanwy, who had hesitated in her duties of taking bets and was staring at her god with a mixture of concern and interest on her face. It was clear that the elven woman did not know how to feel about the situation.
Six did not looked pleased. His folded his arms and his usual scowl deepened. "I will not fight a mage. Especially one so...small."
Fen'Harel shrugged, but did not remove himself from the ring. "I assure you, I will not use my magic against you in this, or any situation."
Six made a scoffing sound, stepping back out of the ring. "I think not."
"Suit yourself," said one of the crewmen, taking Six's place in the ring. This man did not seem at all bothered by the fact that Fen was a mage. Instead Astlyr knew the sailor expected an easy win. The elf god looked neither capable nor intimidating. Fen bowed slightly to his new opponent, his shaggy curls falling over his face. His hair was getting longer, in need of being tied back.
Myfanwy made her way over to Astlyr as the match began. "We're not betting," Cullen assured the woman.
Myfanwy shook her head slightly, and Astlyr knew that their friend had come to stand with them because she was nervous, even before Cole said as much. "Did Daveth have any skill with this sort of thing?" Astlyr questioned, watching the two men in the ring circle each other, legs bent and bodies tense with readiness for action.
"No," Myfanwy answered, narrowing her eyes and lowering her voice, "but My Lord must because he seems to be winning."
Astlyr looked back in time to see Fen'Harel score several skilled attacks and trip up his opponent as though the man were a bumbling yokel rather than a fellow fighter. The combat was over almost as quickly as the captain's. Astlyr whistled through her teeth, impressed.
A few more of the crew stepped forward, both men and women, to try the elf and Fen managed beat them all, though some were easier than others. Between each bout he used his magic to heal his own injuries and those of his opponents. Whatever anger they felt over losing was quickly replaced by amusement as another of their fellows tried and failed to best the elf.
Varric was making a killing as he darted around the deck, Myfanwy in tow, calling, "who will be next to try the elf? Who is he? Where did he come from? Surely you'll be able to best him! Or you?"
Finally Captain Kale stepped forward, eyes sparkling as he shucked off his long coat and flexed his arms, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Alright my small friend, time to try me on for size eh?"
"If you wish it," Fen'Harel dipped his head, a smile playing at his lips. Varric and Myfanwy found themselves bustling again, taking bets left and right. The captain was still the favorite, but only by a slim margine.
"Hey Six," Kale called into the gathered watchers. The qunari's head and shoulders were visible above the heads of his fellows.
"Captain?"
"How 'bout if I can't beat this little elf, you give him a try?"
"Captain, he's a mage." Six said, moving forward and frowning as deeply as ever.
"He hasn't used magic this whole time except to heal us up between fights. Don't be so damn picky. Don't make me order you, Six," the captain was matching the qunari scowl for scowl, though Astlyr could detect a hint of mirth in Kale's tone. He was bating, poking Six with a verbal stick. "If he beats me he will have bested the best fighter on this ship besides you. Give him a shot."
"Fine," Six grumbled and expression darkening even further than Astlyr had thought possible. It was difficult to contain a laugh.
"Mages should be muffled, muted, captured, caught, cut," Cole muttered, his eyes intent on Six. "Can't be trusted. They let mages run loose and demons follow after. Foolish Fereldans."
Astyr pondered the boy's observation of Six's concerns as the captain and Fen'Harel began to circle one another.
The match began and it was obvious from the start that the captain was a cut above his crew. He had clearly been paying attention to Fen'Harel's previous bouts and caught on to the elf's style. Fen had to work much harder this time. The crew set up a wild din, cheering on their captain or Fen so loudly that Astlyr wondered how the combatants could concentrate. Even the crewmen who were on duty peered down from the rigging, or watched from above on the quarterdeck. Astlyr suspected that an enemy ship could probably sail right up to them and start firing arrows, and only then would the crew of The Griffon take notice.
The match lasted a long while, with both men scoring good hits and succeeding in pinning one another several times, but no definitive win was reached for almost half and hour. The sun had slunk lower and the long shadows of The Griffon's sails bathed the deck in shadow. Varric kept the tempo up in the watchers with his cometary, "Did you see that? Your captain almost had him that time. Oh! But he slipped away again, that elf is crafty!"
The pair fought on, but the captain was seemingly tire and Fen'Harel was pulling out more tricks that he had not used on his previous adversaries. Finally Fen managed to knock the captain to the boards one last time with a deft motion of arm and leg that Astlyr thought she had seen him use while casting, though this time no magic emerged. Kale, flat on his back and huffing for air, swiped a bloody knuckle across his brow and laughed, "alright. Alright young elf. You've got me!"
Astlyr his a smirk at the notion of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, being called 'young'. Any words from Varric on the subject of the win were drowned out by the shouts and cheering from the crew as they rushed to either congratulate the winner, or playfully scold their captain.
"Your turn then, Six," Captain Kale said, gesturing to the qunari, who was looking uncomfortable.
"Should he face Six now, after beating so many of the others?" asked Finna, handing the captain back his coat. The man wiped his sweaty and bloody face on the garment before pulling it on. "Six is still fresh."
"I think that is better," Fen was wearing a cocky smile and Astlyr thought she caught sight of a sharp tooth behind his grinning lips. "It is the only way he will stand a chance."
The crowd made an "Oooooo" of approval as Fen goaded the much larger Six to take the ring. The qunari did not seem enraged by the elf's words, but he moved silently to take his place inside the circle. This time a hush fell. No one looked eager to begin the betting.
Varric hurried to drum up interest. "Here it is, the match we've all been waiting for! Who will win? The mountain or the mole hill? The dragon or the wolf?"
Rationally one would have chosen Six, but having seen Fen'Harel best all comers, including their captain, the crew hesitated . If she was honest Astlyr was already pondering how she might use Fen'Harel's new found hand to hand fighting skills to her advantage in combat. Mages did not have much opportunity to grapple a foe, but perhaps she could find a way to make it work. A skilled military leader uses every advantage they can.
And then the fight began, without any further preamble. It was clear that Six had also been paying attention to Fen'Harel's earlier fights and stood ready to block his best attacks and take-downs, but Fen had other plans. Faced with the much larger opponent the elf hung back, moving skillfully out of the qunari's range. Six shot out a few experimental punches, which Fen'Harel easily avoided. A kick was likewise dodged. Astlyr realized she was leaning forward with interest.
Fen made his move then, darting in with a quick change of his stance, he kicked the inside of Six's forward leg, then retreated. A few members of the crew chuckled. This attack little phased the mammoth Six, but the qunari's gaze dropped momentarily, and in that moment Fen changed stances again and scored two quick punches to Six's head before getting clear.
"Qunari have a extra layer of bone at the front of their skulls!" Astlyr shouted to her friend before she could stop herself. "Don't bother with it."
She saw Fen cut a look in her direction and wondered if it was one of thanks or annoyance as he darted nimbly away from another kick. "Get on with it!" someone in the crowd shouted, obviously already tired of Fen's non-confrontational antics.
"Belay that," Scolded Finna, who was watching with a look of intense concentration. It was clear that she was taking mental notes for later.
Fen'Harel once again hopped inward for a strike to the inside of Six's knee. Then again a few moments later. Rapid kicks at Six's leg landing neatly, though they seemed to do little to the qunari, who struggled to keep up with the fast moving Fen. Still, even with Fen'Harel's avoidance Six managed to land a solid kick and a few punches, which the elf managed to block with his hands before they struck his face. Beside Astlyr she felt Cole tense with each landed blow. She tucked the boy under her arm, which seemed to calm him.
Six's next kick was particularly bad, and it seemed all the god could do to keep his feet. Varric hastily worked the crowd up into another frenzy. More money changed hands. It was all Myfanwy could do to keep up with the industrious dwarf.
Fen'Harel recovered quickly and went back on the offensive, again and again with quick leg shots. First to the inside of Six's forward leg, then a fast and low roundhouse kick to the outside. For the first time Astlyr caught the flicker of pain on Six's dower features. The qunari did not change his stance however, swiping at Fen'Harel's head as the elf came in for another strike. This time Fen kept his head well back so the punch glanced off, striking only the hand the elf had raised to protect his jaw.
Six shot out two kicks and closed the distance between himself and Fen, obviously intending a grapple. The elf saw this and lunged forward, launching himself at the Qunari's shin, striking it with his shoulder and grasping his with a hand he pressed his lean body forward into Six's forward leg. The qunari toppled to the deck with a resounding slam. Fen'Harel tried to move back then, knowing he could not easily pin the much larger fighter. A kick struck Fen's defending arm and Astlyr heard his sharp intake of breath as he changed his stance to favor the arm.
The watchers roared with excitement again.
Fen was undaunted. As Six tried to rise he was met with a fast kick to that same knee, and this time it was obvious that it caused him pain. Six snarled, an expression of anger crossing his stoic features briefly. Asltyr wondered if she should warn Fen'Harel about the qunari blood rage. A nasty tendency to go berserk if needed. Six would not longer register any pain if he could get a good blood rage going, but it seemed as if he was succeeding in keeping his head. He managed to get to his feet with a grunt, facing down Fen'Harel again. Astlyr was impressed. She would not have pegged Six as someone to demonstrate a lot of control. Her eyes were drawn to his single horn. Though Six seemed to be handling himself, she still felt her own muscles tense. She would intervene if needed, and match him bloodrage for bloodrage.
The fight continued in this fashion. Fen'Harel focusing on low attacks, striking Six's knee whenever he could. Twice he was almost grappled, which would spell the end of the match for certain. There was no way the elf could match the qunari for strength. Eventually it was clear that both were getting worn down. Fen'Harel had taken a few more punches he was unable to block and was bleeding from his temple, tinting his curls with crimson. However, it was obvious that his continued attacks on Six's knee were having the desired effect. The qunari had eventually attempted to change his stance to compensate for the joint, and was much clumsier with his off hand.
Fen managed a few more quick take-downs in similar fashion to the first. Low, fast attacks which plucked his larger for off his feet. Repeatedly slamming into the deck was finally beginning to wind the qunari. He had bruises already starting on his elbows and shoulder blades. The bluish color an odd contrast to his skin tone. Astlyr half expected that any minute the young qunari would decide enough as enough and snap the elf in two. But Six seemed surprisingly honorable. Though he would use his size and strength to his advantage, he kept his dangerous anger under control. Astlyr kept the corner of her eye on Cole, who was still tucked under her arm. The boy was tense, but much less than she might have expected. She knew she should not worry over this match unless he saw her spirit friend looking much more upset.
The fight was lasting such a long time that the sun had set, leaving the sky with only a blush to remind them that it had been. Lanterns were brought out onto the deck and held by various onlookers. No one dared set their lantern down, for fear it might be overturned by one of the fighters. Varric found himself challenged now to keep up the enthusiasm as the fighters slowed, wearied by exhaustion and wounds.
Fen'Harel seemed to gather himself and moved in again, obviously intent on the leg he had been weakening all evening. This time Six was ready. Astlyr had to bite back a concerned exclamation as Six grappled Fen'Harel. The stronger fighter won out in this situation and she knew it. Six forced Fen down and pinned him without much effort, though Fen threw in a few punches as best he could. Astlyr noted that Fen avoided hitting Six in the head, obviously remembering her advice. "Yield," Six growled.
"Is it all over?!" Varric shouted as the crew leaned in, eager to see.
Fen'Harel looked well and truly caught. He was pressed against the deck by Six's massive weight and his legs, still struggling valiantly, were doing nothing to dislodge his attacker. Fen flailed with his whole body like a ferret caught in a trap. He bared his teeth, sweat and blood splashing from his hair as he shook his head in his effort.
"I think you're down and out this time, my friend," Captain Kale had stepped forward, kneeling to see how effective the pin was. Preparing to call the match over.
Then Fen'Harel gave a sharp cry and jerked free of one of Six's arms. Before the qunari could react Fen managed to get a bare foot up against Six's face. He gave a firm kick, sending himself launching backwards more than pushing Six from him. Fen scrambled to his feet even as Six did the same. The crowd whooped. Captain Kale stepped back, shrugging and grinning.
"Oh! I did not see that coming! The little guy can't be counted out yet! This may be your last chance to place your bets! I've never seen a closer match!" Varric crowed, rushing to and fro trying to get a better view himself.
Fen'Harel made a sound that was half grunt, half roar and Astlyr felt Cole tense slightly beside her. She would have looked to the boy if her eyes were not glued to the combat. Fen'Harel surged forward, low to the ground. Six, caught off guard, tried to deflect, but Fen grabbed Six's arm with both hands, pulling himself closer, and forcing the qunari to take a step, breaking his stance. Fen tugged Six's arm across himself, angling the man the way he wanted. Then the elf released the arm, dropping down he wrapped one leg around Six's injured one, grasping the back of both Six's knees. He drove himself forward with all his force. This should not have done much, considering Six's size, but Fen had gotten him out of alignment, his injured knee gave, and the big man tumbled backwards, hitting the deck with such a solid thump that Astlyr wondered if he might have broken a few boards. Six's single horn did send a hefty splinter of wood flying when it hit.
Fen jumped back, stepping nimbly away from the fallen qunari and favoring his arm, which hung limp at his side. Six lay for a long moment, seemingly dazed. He blinked up at the sails, mouth slightly open. Then he let out a laugh which no one had been expecting. It was clear by the looks going around that many of the crew had never heard Six laugh before. Astlyr shot Cole a sideways glance, but the boy was once again relaxed. Was it just her, or did a the tiny hint of a smile flit across Cole's mouth?
Six managed to sit up, still laughing loudly and awkwardly. The laughter of one who did not have much practice. Fen'Harel still kept back, watchful. "Alright little mage. Alright," Six said, shaking his head and grinning. "You've proven yourself."
"The winner!" Captain Kale announced, stepping in and raising Fen's injured arm, which caused the mage to gasp in pain. Still, he could not hide a satisfied smile. Could he manage to look more smug? Astlyr wondered as she and her friends went to congratulate the god.
Myfanwy reached him first. She looked a bit annoyed, hands on her hips, ignoring Varric who was calling her to help him count and dole out winnings. "Are you satisfied?" she asked, in a tone that surprised Astlyr in its severity.
Fen grinned wolfishly, "very. I haven't done that in...well...ages."
"Please don't do it again. You're damaging my brother's body," Myfanwy griped. She took Fen's injured arm, holding it out straight. Fen'Harel winced, allowed it. "Here," Myfanwy handed Fen's wrist to Astlyr, "Pull when I say." The elf pressed a hand to the front of Fen'Harel's shoulder and then nodded to Astlyr. She pulled, if gently. Gentlness from the qunari was enough to pop the joint back into place. Fen gritted his teeth, but made no sound. "There," Myfanwy said, still eying her god with some displeasure.
"I thank you," Fen'Harel dipped his head, the clever glint still alive in his eyes. It was clear he had enjoyed himself greatly. Astlyr wondered how many other things she did not know about her friend. One would never guess that the scholarly elf loved dancing and court intrigue, or that he could take on a qunari in a wrestling match. She shook her head, marveling.
Fen'Harel placed a hand to his chest and white healing magic blossomed over him. It collected in little clumps like gathered snow where he was hurt. His knuckles, his brow and shoulder. "Do you want me to see to your knee?" Fen asked as Six moved to limp past.
"No," the qunari said, his face having returned to a state of glum displeasure as though he had never laughed a day in his life. "No magic healing for me. I'll see the ship's surgeon."
"Come on, you big lug," Finna strode up, putting a friendly hand on the qunari's meaty arm, "I'll patch you up myself."
Everything settled back into the routine of the evening aboard a ship. Meals were had, duty shifts were changed. Cullen left Astlyr for his quarters, though not before giving her a long and sustaining kiss. "I'm sorry that we have not had much time for...you know," he cleared his throat, already blushing faintly.
"Don't worry about that," she gave him a playful grin, "when we get back to Skyhold I'll 'you know' your brains out."
Cullen made a startled choking sound, but it turned into a laugh as he kissed her again, skillfully, in a way that made her think she might have trouble falling asleep that night and left her fervently wishing she did not find going below decks so abhorrent. She knew he would never agree to sex on the deck. There was no way to have privacy from the prying eyes of the crew, and she knew how her man valued privacy. Her man. She rolled the idea around in her mind as she watched him head below. He was hers. She relished the thought with a little thrill. Only he could make her feel like a giddy teen, she realized and smiled at her own silliness.
Fen'Harel strode up to her then. She found herself glad it wasn't Cole who joined her. Fen may have been able to guess at her current, less than publicly correct thoughts, but Cole could read them like a book and spout them aloud to the crew. She hoped the boy was not below decks doing just that. "It is a pleasant evening, is it not, my friend?" Fen said, leaning against the rail not far from her. He looked more bright, more alive, than he had in a while. He seemed somehow lit from within.
Astlyr moved to join him, watching his face in profile. Daveth's nose was so decidedly eflish, she noted. Roman and pronounced. Solas's had been more subtle. "You seemed to enjoy your little bought with Six," she said, resting her hands on the railing.
"I did," he smirked. "Sometimes being in Skyhold I forget myself. Forget how to have joy and freedom. Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," Astlyr said, raising an eyebrow. "You don't usually volunteer information."
Fen'Harel chuckled. "I'll be honest, I promise," he placed a hand to his heart, though his grin was as cocky as ever. He turned and looked back to the water. The waves were died deep purple with night. It looked as though The Griffin sailed on a sea of roiling ink. "I fully admit to being arrogant. To using others for my own ends. I justified it because I wasn't sending followers to needless battle and death, as my fellow gods were, but I have been, and am, very manipulative."
"You? No," Astlyr snarked.
He gave her a wan smile, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Mock if you must, but understand that I used you. Repeatedly."
"I know," she sighed. "I'm not happy about it, but I know." She had a thought, "Are you using me now?"
"I'm not certain," he said, running a hand through hair, still slightly stringy with sweat. "I do it so habitually," he smirked at her and she tried not to smile. "Some nights I get caught up in the world. In what I must do and what is expected," he mumbled then, watching the waves again. "And nights like this I remember what I have loved about life. I think, tonight, I am truly happy and myself for the first time in a very long while."
"Just tonight?" Astlyr said, feeling a pang of concern.
"Fully tonight," he shrugged. Then he grinned again, baring very white teeth, his eyes glinting in the starlight like an animal's. "If there was a moon I might howl at it."
Astlyr couldn't help herself, she cuffed him playfully. He made a show of catching her arm and turning it away, then threw two mock-punches at her shoulder. They laughed together and Astlyr wasn't certain when she could remember laughing with him. Had she ever? She found that, as unusual as it was, she liked it.
***** This chapter. Ugh. This chapter. I edited this chapter fairly significantly. Then I promptly deleted all my work. Not realizing this, I posted the chapter without realizing I was posting the older, crappier version. So, upon realizing, I took it down and had to re-edit...in the car...on a way to an event. All that for a chapter I don't even love very much. I feel that my new edits aren't as good as my original ones either. Ugh. Oh well. That's life.
Alright, so let me be honest. If this fic was a book book, I would eliminate this chapter. It used to be part of a much larger chapter and I broke it down. Then I almost did major surgery and eliminated the fight scene and added this back to the next chapter...but then I realized that I needed all the lead I can have on you guys, especially with my new job commitments eating up all my writing time *shakes fist*.
Hopefully this chapter was enjoyable anyway. At least Varric had a good time!
Here's a picture of Daveth pre Fen'Harel for your enjoyment: art/Daveth-534153092
Feel free to comment if you like :)
Next chapter hopefully: 5/28/15
To keep up to date head to my author page on FB: pages/Emily-Luebke-Author/283743888311991