Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextChapter 6: The Lengths We Go To
Orsino's office was, surprisingly, directly across the hall from Meredith's. Hawke rapped on the door with her knuckles, unsure of what to expect. She clenched her hands; they were still trembling after the altercation with Meredith. The revelation that the Knight-Commander had not only known she was an apostate, but allowed her to remain outside of the Circle, was a harrowing one. That, alongside the fact that they knew about Fenris, Isabela, Merrill, and Anders, left fear and anxiety clawing at her insides.
All of that, along with this plan that Meredith was forcing her to play a part in, left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and the urge to vomit again.
The heavy door creaked open and a man with receding gray hair and an elf's telltale ears appeared in the door. "Yes?" he said warily. "What is it?"
"Uh, hi," Hawke said with a little wave. "You're First Enchanter Orsino, right?"
The man opened the door wider, revealing himself to be wearing long, dark, hooded robes. "Yes, I am. What can I do for you? Are you a new apprentice?"
"Oh, no, I um…Knight-Commander Meredith wanted me to give you this," Hawke stammered, holding the folded note. Orsino took it with a curious glance, and popped open the wax seal.
He read it over, eyes getting wider with every line. "Maker above!" he gasped. "Is this legitimate?"
"Unfortunately."
"Please, come inside," the elf said, and stepped aside to allow her room. Hawke entered, eyes scanning the room. Compared to Meredith's, it was overflowing with personality and charisma, but that wasn't saying much. There were drawings done by Circle children pinned up on the walls, a huge bookcase overflowing with tomes and journals undoubtedly filled with handwritten notes. A desk and chair that mirrored the ones in Meredith's office sat in the middle, but there was a blanket thrown over the back of the chair and the desk had candles, a bowl of nuts, a pile of papers, and a book. Orsino grabbed a chair that was pushed against the wall and drew it up to the desk, gesturing for her to sit.
Once the two mages were seated, Orsino reread the letter, massaging his temples. "I knew your father, you know," he sighed at length, looking Hawke in the eye. "Not very well, only as acquaintances, but well enough to recognize the signs of someone looking for escape. When he finally escaped, I wondered for years whether he'd survived, or if he had been dragged into another Circle. The fact that you are here before me, the spitting image of him, tells me that he must have succeeded. Tell me, how has he been, these last many years?"
"He's dead," Hawke said softly. "He died only a few years before the Blight began. He never went to another Circle, though."
Orsino sighed again. "Then I must offer both my congratulations and my condolences, though in light of recent events I would lean more heavily towards the latter," he said, gesturing to the letter. "I am deeply sorry to hear of your mother's passing, especially in such a cruel manner. I can only imagine how you must be feeling, especially considering that the blood mage escaped."
"That's why I came to Meredith," Hawke explained. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and held her head in her hands. "I know it was reckless and dangerous, but I thought…if anybody would have the willingness and the power to track him down, it'd be her."
"Even though you yourself are an apostate?"
Hawke's head shot up. "Does bloody everybody know?" she demanded.
Orsino gave a faint smile. "Only those of importance. Meredith decided that it was a need-to-know basis for the templars, and that only I of the mages should know. She feared the news of a known apostate, whomwasn'tforced into the Circle for whatever reason, would be cause for riot."
"She's probably right," Hawke mused. "Maker, I'm regretting this decision more and more with every word."
The First Enchanter let out a mirthless laugh. "At least you get to leave at the end of this," he pointed out, only slightly bitterly. "Probably, at least. I won't lie, I would not put it past Meredith to put you in the Circle or even Tranquilize you at the end of this plan that she's proposed, simply to make an example out of you," he said somberly. "This is not the best situation you have put yourself into."
"Like I said, regret. More and more." Hawke ground her knuckles into her eyes. Her headache had returned with a vengeance. "Anyway, what does Meredith's letter say? Did she explain the whole plan?"
"More or less," Orsino shrugged. "She mentioned you seeking justice for your mother's death at the hands of a maleficar, and that I am to help you appear Tranquil without actually being so. Though I am not sure how to do so." He stood, and approached his laden bookshelf. He continued talking as he trailed his fingertip along the spines of the books, apparently searching for a particular tome. "The telltale physical signs of Tranquility are, as I'm sure you know, the forehead brand as well as the emotionless psyche as emotions and dreams are cut off along with your access to the Fade, which leaves you unable to draw upon magic." He found the one he was looking for, and with a grunt of satisfaction pulled it free from its shelf.
"I was rather hoping to avoid the 'cut off from the fade' part of it," Hawke pointed out.
"Yes, I am trying to decide the best way to go about this," Orsino said thoughtfully. He flipped through the book, eyes flicking back and forth as he searched. He hummed as he thought, and pulled down another book to look through it as well. Several minutes passed in near silence as the Enchanter searched for whatever he was looking for. Finally, he let out a satisfied grunt. "Yes, I believe I know how we must go about doing this," he said, stacking the books neatly on his desk.
Hawke raised her head from her hands and stared at him warily. "What do I have to do?"
Orsino began rummaging through a cabinet, setting out various bottles of ingredients. "I believe I can place a fake brand on your forehead, and I believe I can develop a potion that will help recreate the emotionless aspect of Tranquility, as well as dampen your magic," the elf explained. Next pulled out was a small cauldron, and a base stand. "I would request that you stay here until I finish the potion, but I have no idea how long it will take to finish it."
"I'll stay," Hawke sighed. "I don't…I don't want to have to face my friends until this is over. I'm not sure what this deception is going to do to them. I don't think I can face them yet."
"I understand." The First Enchanter set the cauldron on the base, and lit a flame under it with a flick of his finger. "You are welcome to observe, then."
Two and a half hours later, Orsino held up a small cup full of a murky green liquid. "Is that it?" Hawke asked. "It looks like pond water."
Osino chuckled. "I'll take your word for it," he said. Hawke took the cup from him and swilled it around, frowning, then downed it in one gulp. She grimaced and shuddered at the bitter taste. "The main ingredient is magebane, to restrict your magic, but it will not completely prevent it. You must continue to be vigilant and not use it accidentally. It will also restrict your more prominent emotional reactions, but again will not completely stop them. But it will at least stop your facial expressions from betraying you. I also believe I know how to imprint the fake brand upon your forehead, if you will allow me."
Hawke nodded, and sat upright in the chair as the Enchanter approached her. He held his hands out in front of him, hovering in front of her forehead, and closed his eyes. A soft yellow light poured forth from his hands, and the skin on her forehead began itching intensely. She gripped the chair tight and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop a whimper from escaping as the sensation climbed to nearly unbearable heights. And then, it was over.
Orsino stared at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "It is done," he sighed, and handed her a small mirror. Hawke lifted it and examined the blazing sun symbol etched into her skin, and it matched every nightmare she'd ever had about being caught by the Circle.
"Is it permanent?" she asked after an uncertain heartbeat.
"No, I should be able to undo it once your plan is over," Orsino sighed. "I am simply grateful that this is merely a ruse, and not an actual Rite of Tranquility." He turned around and poured the rest of the potion into a bottle, and sealed it with the lid. "Here, this should get you through the rest of the week. A single mouthful every morning should be enough to get you through the day. Should you require more, if this ruse goes on longer than expected, you know where to find me. I am certain the Knight-Commander will agree to allow you access, considering your circumstances."
Hawke nodded; already, she could feel the potion taking effect. Either that, or her nerves were simply getting the better of her. "Thank you, First Enchanter," she said softly, standing. "I'd better get home before people wonder where I've gone."
"Of course." The two mages made their way to the door, and the elf held the door open for her. "I don't know exactly what you and the Knight-Commander have planned, but please be careful," he said in a low voice. "I do not wish to see you made Tranquil for real."
"Thank you." She inclined her head, then pulled her hood up to hide the fake brand. No need to spread the word sooner than necessary.
Orsino watched the apostate's retreating figure until she turned a corner and disappeared. He shut the door and returned to his desk, eyeing the strewn books and potion ingredients thoughtfully. Perhaps he had gone too far, he mused, in assisting the maleficar Quentin in his research. If he had known the depths of the blood mage's depravity, he would not have been so free with his help.
Of course, he thought as he began cleaning everything up, it was indeed irony that his help had resulted in the death of the mother of the only apostate Meredith had ever willingly let go free. Life was strange and full of many coincidences, indeed.