A/N: This update is way more than a month late, and for that, I sincerely apologize!
The shuffle of robes and flutter of pages greeted Ahnnie as she went up the steps to the atrium library. Ringed on all sides with shelves, it provided a view of the rotunda below through a stone balustrade and supported the musty rookery above with sturdy wooden beams. Polearms was now rescheduled to every other day, giving her extra time on certain mornings, so she decided to spend this one searching for the book Solas recommended. She figured she should make the best use of her new availability as possible before more duties swamped her; her assistance in repairs no longer being necessary, there was only the Inquisitorship to worry about, and so far she'd been feeling its effects in the form of Alexius' judgment and more frequent war councils. But soon...
History of the Inquisition? Ahnnie paused at the shelf she was perusing and slid the book from its slot to have a look. With a cloud of dust, it opened up its secrets to her, secrets written in a brittle hand that detailed the formation of the first Inquisition all the way to the subsequent Nevarran Accord; at least, that was what she could gather from the summary on the cover page and table of contents.
Inquisitor Merek was the first Inquisitor, Ahnnie thought in awe as she skimmed through the pages. Ah...so they were kind of Spanish Inquisition-y, she next thought as she read a passage on some of the Inquisition's blood mage and heretic hunts, oft described as part of "a reign of terror". Not the least bit surprising, considering how they were originally a loose group of Andrastian hardliners.
She flipped further through the years as she pulled into a slow walk about the library, engrossed in the runes that brought to life the organization she was now part of – that she was now leader of – pouncing on the ones that gave away the names of her predecessors especially. Botulf, Isembard, Rohese, Galiena...Inquisitor Ameridan was the last one...She sounded the syllables in her mind and imagined writing the name out in English. Hmm, sounds like 'American'. And it would start with an 'A', like my name. Coincidence? She allowed herself a small smile as she thought, maybe.
Of course, after the Nevarran Accord, Ameridan would not have been Inquisitor any longer. But what intrigued her was that, unlike the other Inquisitors, who had documented deaths, Ameridan disappeared during the early years of the Divine Age. He simply vanished from written record; whether of his own accord or some unknown demise, no one knew for certain...
Oh, right! The Fade Denizen Study thing! That was what she'd come here to get, not this history book. Still, it would prove to be an interesting read, so she tucked it under her arm while backtracking to the shelf to resume her search. If only we had librarians here. That would make this so much easier. Do we have librarians? She wasn't sure she wanted to bother the silent people around her, afraid of mistaking them for what they were not. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask...
Deep in her musings, Ahnnie almost missed the mustached mage brooding in an alcove to her right, catching him only by chance from the corner of her eye. He was sitting in a chair by the window, bent over a letter of sorts. Wondering what had him so introspective, Ahnnie slowed to a stop and rapped a knuckle on the nearest shelf. "Hey, Dorian."
It took a moment for him to realize he had been addressed. "Yes?" Dorian asked as he looked up, inquisitive.
"What's up? Is it anything interesting?" She pointed at the parchment.
He blinked. "Hm? This? Oh, it's...a letter regarding Felix."
"Really?" With all that had happened, she'd almost forgotten about him. "What's it say?"
Dorian leaned back in his chair and laid the letter against his thigh. "He went to the Magisterium," he explained. "Stood on the Senate floor and told them of you. A glowing testimonial, I'm informed. No news on the reaction, but everyone back home is talking." He paused a bit before adding, softly, "Felix always was as good as his word."
Though the news should have been good, she couldn't help noticing the mage's deflated tone. "Dorian?" Ahnnie asked worriedly. "Is something wrong?"
Dorian's hand clenched the letter a little tighter as he opened his mouth to speak. When no sound seemed able to make it past his throat, he huffed a brusque exhalation as though to force the words out. "He's dead," Dorian said at last. "The Blight caught up with him."
Ahnnie's breath caught in her throat and a hand involuntarily covered her mouth. "Oh no...Dorian, I...I'm so sorry..."
"He was ill and on borrowed time anyhow. It was coming, one way or another."
"Still, it...I hoped...and after what I said in the judgment..."
"I know," Dorian murmured. He looked back down at the letter again, rereading the runes for what must have been the umpteenth time before tearing his gaze away to give her a little smile. "He used to sneak me treats from the kitchens when I worked late in his father's study, you know. 'Don't get into trouble on my behalf,' I'd tell him. 'I like trouble,' he'd say. Even in illness, Felix was the best of us; with him around, you knew things could be better. Tevinter could use more mages like him."
Despite his controlled voice, Ahnnie could see the emotion building in his moistening eyes. Suddenly, she, too, felt the same wetness in hers. "If only...if only he had been on Earth, he might have had a chance," she blurted out. "Our medicine is much more advanced and a solution could've been found–"
"Unless this advanced medicine could purge the taint completely, I would not call an elongated comatose existence a 'solution'," Dorian countered quietly. "You saw what the good doctor's cure did for him...and I hardly think you'd want the same for yourself." He shook his head. "No, I think Felix was happier this way. Strange, I know – who in their right mind wants to die? But when I think of the agony he must have gone through, and that look in his eyes every time I cracked a 'not-dying' joke..."
Her eyes flickered from Dorian's pained gaze down to the stone floor. "Does his father know?"
"Not yet," Dorian admitted. "But soon."
Ahnnie bit down on her lower lip as she tried not to imagine how that would play out. "Take it slow with him," she said after a while. "At least, that's what I would do. He's been through a lot, and...this news...it would crush him."
She was met with a quizzically raised brow when she looked back up. "An awfully kind thing to say of someone who almost destroyed the world," its owner remarked.
"Well..." Ahnnie's free hand rose and fell in her attempt to find a logical explanation, slapping back to her side when she couldn't. "It's true, isn't it? Everything he did was so he wouldn't lose Felix. He'd already lost his wife and now, his freedom...that's not to say it was all excusable, but I can't imagine how I would feel, if I were in his place..."
Dorian's eyes wandered in distant contemplation as he refolded the letter, and for a while he stayed that way. "I knew you wouldn't have the heart to give him a harsh sentence," he murmured at length. "Even when I doubted you, I had a feeling you wouldn't follow through with it. For that, I am grateful. I'm sure Alexius is as well."
Ahnnie did her best to muster a smile though she knew the probability of that last sentence was not very likely. She considered saying something in return, but nothing adequate came to mind. Then, seeing Dorian rise from his chair, she readjusted the hold on her book and decided it was time to leave. "Well, I have to go now. I'll still be in the library, but I've got to look for something. You'll, um...you'll be okay?"
"I will, thank you."
"All right, then. I'll see you later." Hugging the Inquisition book to her chest, she turned on her heel and retreated from the alcove.
"Try not to die," Dorian teased gently after her retreating form. "I would notice you were gone."
The weight of two books laid against her chest as Ahnnie exited the rotunda, taking the doorway leading outside rather than the one to the main hall. She'd planned on returning to her quarters to enjoy her new reads, but after learning of Felix's fate, a walk in the open felt more appropriate. With a much-needed drink of fresh air, Ahnnie slowly descended the winding steps round the tower, touching upon the lower courtyard a moment later directly across from the stables.
Glad to see Dennet's doing well, she thought as she watched the horsemaster tend to his steeds. He was instructing a new groom in particular on how to properly pick hooves. The mount they worked on was one of the new ones, if Ahnnie wasn't mistaken; she heard that Dennet had sent to his main farm in the Hinterlands for more, plus a good many had been donated along with supplies. Watching the men interact with the horse made her remember her own, though, and it was with a guilty conscience that she turned away to stifle the memory beneath the cruel Frostback snow where it belonged.
Blackwall's made his own place in the barn loft, she thought instead, and I hear he's been carving up lots of new stuff there. A pair of newly polished chopsticks had been left as a present on her desk a few days ago, in fact, bearing little pinecone carvings at the base. Cole's been pretty quiet as of late. She hadn't seen him much beyond coincidentally running into him at intervals; no further fuss had been raised about his presence, causing her to think his situation stable for now. Then I think Bull and his Chargers've taken up space in the new tavern...
Speak of the devil; her thoughts were broken seconds later by none other than Krem and Skinner jostling up ahead on their way to the upper courtyard. It was the first time she'd seen Skinner so lively, yet even then the city elf seemed to radiate danger. It was like watching Krem play with a wild predator. As he spun from the reach of Skinner's dagger, playfully swiped in what Ahnnie hoped was only mock aggression, his eyes met hers and brightened in recognition.
"Ahnnie!" Krem hailed. Skinner whirled around in response, lips curving into a smirk as she saw who it was. "Or is it Inquisitor now? Not gonna flay us alive for addressing you wrong, are you?"
"Don't worry," Skinner assured her fellow Charger, dragging a slender finger against the dagger's edge. "Threatening the world gets comfortable servitude. You're in more danger of becoming Tranquil."
Ahnnie did her best to hide her cringe beneath a friendly smile as she approached. "To be fair, I wouldn't exactly call Alexius' new life 'comfortable'. Ahnnie's still fine, by the way," she added to Krem.
"Fed and warm with no need to sweat? Comfortable," Skinner contended with a flick of the blade.
Ahnnie fidgeted at the elf's daring ease with the weapon, and what sounded like a smidgen of reproach in the prickling words. "A person's psychological state is important too," she felt the need to say. "At least, that's what I've found," she added with another fake smile.
Krem rolled his eyes at the both of them. "Save the philosophy for the red-robes," he groaned. "Or better yet, drown it all in alcohol. Whaddyou say, Ahnnie? Care for a drink? Chief's been missing you."
He hooked a chummy arm around her shoulder, causing her to tense her grip on the books. "W-well..." She averted her eyes from his face, suddenly brought so close to hers. "I guess an ale sounds nice..."
"Ha! 'Course it does."
I could totally use the distraction, she thought as she went along with Krem, slipping out of his grasp a few steps later with a playful duck of her head. It's just...Skinner...The dark haired elf still toyed with her dagger bare-handed, performing such feats as flipping and catching it by the blade tip. She seemed to derive a morbid amusement in sending chills down Ahnnie's spine, putting the girl on edge with every close call and seeming imperviousness to sharp points.
"You should train with us sometime, you know," Krem said. "Show us some of your new moves. You've got an enchanted weapon, yeah? Bet that'll come in handy real soon."
"Training! Good idea," Ahnnie chimed along, eagerly tearing her mortified gaze away from Skinner. "I could learn a thing or two from you guys as well. You still remember the Tevinter sword style by any chance?"
"Pah! 'Remember'? I could do it in my sleep with a hand tied behind my back," Krem boasted. "Tevinter'll give you better balance than that Fereldan flailing they've taught you, at any rate."
"But Cassandra's the one who's taught me sword fighting," Ahnnie interjected with a frown. "And I don't think she's Fereldan?"
"Nevarran, whatever," Krem said as they started mounting the stairs. The tavern lay just across once they crested the first landing, its brand new sign swaying merrily in the breeze. "But if it's Nevarran you've been learning, then that's not too far removed from Tevinter. Still not as refined, in my opinion."
"Huh, I never noticed. She always talked about blade shapes and their uses, but never said anything about a style. I didn't even know she was from Nevarra..." But Ahnnie trailed off as they drew near the entrance, her attention arrested on the shield-shaped sign rocking to and fro above the door. "Is that..." She squinted as she tried to discern the shapes painted on its surface. "Is that me?"
When they finally came close enough, she realized that yes, it was indeed her painted on the sign. More specifically, it was her cradled in Andraste's arms like a sleeping babe, marked hand hanging freely and glowing with the Anchor's trademark verdancy. Both she and the Maker's Bride were dressed in robes of snowy white, but while her face was turned away from view, Andraste looked out at those beyond the sign with a rosy-cheeked maternal serenity.
Krem smiled knowingly as he opened the door for her. "Guess what they call it?"
He revealed a spacious tap room more than thrice the size of the Singing Maiden's. Walled by stone and floored with rush-strewn wood, it sported a little hearth blazing merrily near the center, long chimney nestled in the nook of the stairway. Following the chimney's ascent to the high ceiling above, Ahnnie could see not one but two more storeys in addition to the ground floor. With an awed step, she crossed the threshold and made for the carpeted space before the hearth, but a plaque on one of the wooden posts caught her eye first. She walked closer to it and read its words aloud:
"A place for all in service here, to rest, recoup, and persevere – Though weighs the heart, remember best, your saving grace...the Herald's Rest."
"Do you like it?" a dulcet voice asked her from across the room, and Ahnnie looked up to find Maryden the bard striding expectantly towards her, mug in hand. "Osbert wanted something to officiate the tavern with, and I thought a verse would make it stand out..."
"Oh, of course! It's perfect!" Ahnnie exclaimed. "It's–"
A joyful bark interrupted her and her shoes were beset by a pair of nosy snouts, followed by sharp teeth. The propulsion of three furry bodies against her calves made her pitch forward slightly, which she took with a laugh as she knelt to meet the canine threat to her leather boots. "Charley! Pepper! Down, boys! Eek, Maiden!" she squealed as they doubled their assault with slimy face licks. "One at a time – you've gotten so big!"
Krem chuckled as he came up to her, Skinner lurking darkly behind him. "I'm going to the chief," the elf announced with a pat on his shoulder, flipping her dagger in a little toss back into its sheath as she slipped away. "Come when you're ready."
"We'll be right there," he affirmed, and turned back to the laughing Inquisitor at his feet. "The yellow one's chewing on a book," he informed with a boot nudge to her leg. Noticing the bard before them, he looked up and flashed Maryden a grin. "Thought the place seemed a bit too quiet. Enjoying a break?" He nodded at the mug.
Maryden smiled back and shook her head. "Yes, but it's just water." She cleared her throat and gestured back at the lute and stool beside the fireplace. "Grab a seat and drink; I'll be back to playing soon and would love to hear what you think of my new song. I finished it last night and was refining it just now...you wouldn't mind?"
Ahnnie rolled away from the puppies and shot back up, breathless. They still attacked her feet, though, at which she couldn't help but grin. "No, of course not...Ack, he got a bit of the binding!" she lamented, fingering the wet toothmarks in The Inquisition's spine, albeit not-so-regretfully. "Pepper, how could you..."
"Right, come along," Krem urged as he ushered her to the tables. The puppies he scattered with a flick of the wrist before they could distract her again, and they were off in a flash after the piece of old biscuit he had tossed. As he and Ahnnie neared a table, marked in particular by a pair of familiar pronged horns, Krem belted out, "Oi! Chief! We weren't keepin' you, were we?"
The scruffy heads of a handful of Chargers turned in their direction, and the Iron Bull let out a roar of laughter. "'Bout time! Thought Skinner ate you or something." Noticing Ahnnie and the books in her arms, Bull added, "Well, look what the Crème dragged in! Make some space, boys."
Ahnnie smiled sheepishly as she slid into a space between Rocky and Stitches. Grim stared nonchalantly across from her, flanked by a sniggering Skinner and a shaggy-haired Charger she hadn't yet met. "Krem caught me before I could put these away," she explained, stroking some hair behind an ear as she laid the books down. "Hope that's okay? I could do that real quick and come back..."
"This has got to be the most politest boss I've ever worked for," Bull remarked to the Chargers around him. "Ain't that right, boys?" At the chorus of playful assents, he waved the matter away. "Nah, boss, you're good where you are. Lemme see what you got there–" And before she could protest, Stitches slid the books out in front of him to read their covers.
"A History of the Inquisition," the healer announced to the table before sliding the other book to Krem, who handed it to Bull.
"Some fancy-pants book on Fade monsters!" the qunari barked, and Ahnnie swore her heart leapt to her mouth as he tossed it heedlessly down to the shaggy Charger, who caught it one-handed by the spine and spun it like a top on its axis before laying it flat to a random page in the middle.
"...I can't read," the Charger said after a while of staring blankly at the runes.
"Well no kiddin', Snipe! I was aiming for Grim!"
While they busied themselves laughing, Ahnnie shot a hand out for the book. Snipe looked up in response to the movement, causing her to hesitate. She met his one-eyed gaze with a shaky smile. "Could I have it back...please?"
The book's fate seemed uncertain as he pondered her question with an indecisive hum. Then, in a deft swipe, Snipe flipped it into his hands and arced back his arm. Horrified, Ahnnie clambered out of her seat in a desperate bid to catch it, but when he flicked his wrist, it was to deposit the volume normally in her outstretched hands. The entire table erupted in laughter at Ahnnie's shocked face, and she settled back into her seat with burning cheeks.
"Sorry boss, couldn't help it," Iron Bull apologized, wheezing. "So...whaddyou want? My treat."
"Ah, no, it's fine," she demurred, carefully sliding The Inquisition back to her from where it lay before Stitches. Stacking the books onto each other, she added, "I can pay for myself. I guess for now I'll just have an ale."
"Nonsense! Just sit tight and let this one on me. You can pay for all our drinks next time; eh, boys?" he asked his Chargers with a mischievous wink. Before Ahnnie could protest, Bull barked for a server, his thunderous voice booming across the tavern. Background noise ceased for the split second that the volume reached its peak.
Five minutes later, a response floated down to them from the other end of the tap room. "The Lady Herald is here!" A shining bald pate ringed with dark brush bobbed amongst the tables, and Osbert popped in shortly after. "Why did no one tell me sooner? You ought t've told me sooner, Maryden!" he barked in slight reproach.
"Don't forget me, Papa!" And Netta bounced into place from behind, sticking her head through the space between Rocky and Ahnnie. "Hello," she greeted them both when they turned to her.
Rocky wiggled his fingers at her good-naturedly while Ahnnie swiveled about to better face the little girl. "Of course, she said. "Who could ever forget you?" Stroking the child's unkempt mane, she ran her fingers gently through the knotted brown tangles and beamed up at Osbert. "I was starting to wonder what you were up to. Little did I know it was opening up your own tavern! How long?"
Osbert's cheeks flushed, turning a ruddy complexion even ruddier. "Been almost a week now," he continued, "Lady Heral – I mean...Inquisitor."
"I know," Bull sympathized. "Takes some getting used to."
Suddenly, an incensed feline yowling pierced the air, making Ahnnie jolt. "Piss off, yah stupid cat!" Sera's voice echoed from the floor above above, followed by a loud clatter. Everyone looked up and saw a silvery flash weaving between the table legs closest to the railings, hounded by a bouncing wooden mug. As the cat dashed down the steps, the irate elf could be heard sneering "Chucking hairballs on my friggin' feet" before stomping off and slamming a door.
"So's having good ol' Sera as a tenant," Krem added with a snicker. "Or landlord, however you see it. Must make for a lively time, eh?"
Netta's face twisted into a displeased pout. "I wish she wouldn't do that with Silver! It happens with the puppies, too," she tattled to Ahnnie. "Mr. Blackwall says cats are good because they hunt vermin, and a tavern with no vermin is a clean one. I tried telling her but she wouldn't listen. She also makes Nala blush with 'lood' jokes. Lady Inquisitor, what does 'lood' mean?"
"Never you mind about that," Osbert chided from the corner of his mouth. "Anyway..." He wiped his hands on the edge of his apron and looked expectantly about the table. "What can I get you folks? I see you've just arrived," he pointed at Krem and Skinner. "And of course, Inquisitor," he added with a nod.
"Get me a beer," Krem ordered.
"Whisky," Skinner chimed in.
"An ale," was Ahnnie's obvious answer. Then she paused. "And...a bowl of stew. If it's the same venison stew, that would be great, but if it's not...still great." A sheepish smile concluded the order, along with hope that she hadn't been too imposing.
Osbert's old eyes softened. "We've a fresh pot on the stove," he murmured through his beard. "Still the same old recipe. Well, I've added more rosemary and adjusted the stock, but..."
"It sounds good," Ahnnie affirmed.
The tavern cook – now innkeep, she supposed – puffed with pride and declared thereupon that he would deliver their orders himself. Netta giggled at her new papa's pomp as Ahnnie made room for the child to sit next to her; she was eager to catch up on the little girl's side of things and neither Rocky nor the others seemed to mind. As their table lapsed into cheerful banter once more, Ahnnie thought she could hear a thoughtful murmur rambling across the din.
"...sweet, something sweet – ale's not enough, gets musty after a while. She'd like something sweeter, something fruity, brighter...mead, perhaps? Or the new wine from Orlais, made of plums..."
Osbert paused in his tracks, blinking confusedly for several seconds. "Why...yes, why didn't I think of it sooner? Inquisitor..." He turned back around. "What would you say to a cup of plum wine? It's prime vintage, according to the Royan who sold it to me. Just a sampling, see if you like it..."
Ahnnie tilted her head and pursed her lips in thought. "Sure, why not?"
Osbert nodded vigorously and set off less absentmindedly than before. When he was gone, Ahnnie looked quizzically in the direction of the murmur. Almost instantly, Cole's sullen eyes met hers between Snipe and Grim. "It makes him happy when I suggest something fancier to the guests," he explained, startling the two Chargers in the process. "But usually, just to the guests. This is the first I've tried on him; either way, he doesn't know."
The others at the table gave Cole suspicious, but otherwise nonchalant, glances. Ahnnie wondered if they knew anything of Cole's controversy before giving the bedraggled young man a smile. "What matters is that it helps," she quipped.
"I showed him how to do that," Netta boasted. "Because he wasn't being very good at helping. Did you know he once put old plums on the windowsills? Bugs crawled everywhere!"
Ahnnie frowned and raised an eyebrow at Cole.
"Spiders need to eat too," he protested.
She could practically feel the curious glances grow in intensity from those around them. "Well, we can't help everyone, can we?" Seeking to change the subject, Ahnnie scooted herself closer to Netta to make more room on the bench. "C'mon Cole, have a seat." When he hesitated, she waved insistently at the empty spot. "It's been a while; we need to catch up!"
Cole slowly rounded the table's edge and approached the bench with trepidation, as if uncertain of her intent. Eventually she convinced him to lower himself onto it, and after he sat down, she was acutely aware of how close they had become. The seating's a little squished, isn't it? Her eyes flitted past Cole to Stitches. He should make more room. This is...
"...kind of uncomfortable. My thigh's touching his. If I turn around, it'll be our noses," he murmured, causing her cheeks to burn a bright red.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" she spluttered. "Don't you, uh, want to order anything? Wait, have you met the Chargers yet?" she quickly asked, gesturing at the people around them.
Cole stared blankly at Snipe and Skinner in turn. "He tried to pellet me with stones, and she almost stabbed me once."
"I don't like creepy shems," Skinner stated flatly.
The Iron Bull smirked in amusement. "C'mon, kids, play nice – any friend of the Inquisitor's a friend of ours."
"But that's where we ought to draw the line, chief," Krem interjected, mouth splitting into a mischievous grin. "Might get a little messy if they're...more."
Stitches snickered and Rocky cackled with glee, much to Ahnnie's distress. "More?" she echoed dumbly.
"I don't know what it's like where you're from," Stitches began, "but around here, friends don't whisper sweet nothings into each other's ears."
Even Skinner's mouth turned up at that, and Snipe barely hid his chortles. "Sweet noth–" Ahnnie choked. "What!?"
"What else were you blushing about, eh?" Krem suggested with a wink.
"N-no," she stuttered, "that's not what he was, we were just, it was–"
"All right, all right," Iron Bull interrupted. "Cut her some slack, boys...we can all gossip about her sex life later."
Netta looked curiously from Bull to Ahnnie. "Sex? What's–"
Ahnnie slapped a hand over the child's mouth. "It's nothing! Absolutely nothing."
Netta's round eyes flickered upwards from the sudden hand to Ahnnie's chin. "Like those nothings he's whispered in your ear?" her muffled voice asked through the fingers. "Were they really sweet?"
Laughter yet again rumbled around the table. "Hey, straight to the point! I like this kid!" Iron Bull raised his mug. "You want anything to eat, kid? My treat."
Netta squirmed out of Ahnnie's mortified hold and craned her head towards the table to get a better look at Bull. "I would like a fruit tart," she replied after some thought. "Could I touch your horns, too? Are they real? I've never seen anyone with horns before."
"Sure, why not? C'mon over here."
And just like that, Netta slid away to take up position as the Iron Bull's guest of honor. Feeling slightly betrayed, yet freed for the time being of mockery, Ahnnie let out a deep sigh and smiled apologetically at Cole. "They're, uh...real fun, as you can see."
"It's embarrassing for you," Cole said, "but it's how they show love."
"I guess."
"It also means you're fun to taunt."
She opened her mouth to form a protest, but soon gave up and shook her head in mock exasperation. "I figured as much."
Osbert finally came round with the drinks, giving Krem and Skinner reason to stay quiet for a while as they set to work on losing their sobriety. As for Ahnnie, he placed before her a dainty glass tumbler filled two-thirds of the way with a light amber liquid, followed by a bowl of piping hot venison stew. "Let me know if it's not to your liking," he said as he pulled the tray away.
Ahnnie tested the stew with a careful sip. "It's perfect," she assured him, and the happy innkeep went to take Bull's newest order looking as though he'd won the lottery. After swallowing a second taste, Ahnnie let down her spoon and turned to the tumbler. I wonder if it will taste anything like spiced wine?
She took hold of it in one hand and gently raised it to her lips, closing her eyes as the heady fumes tingled her nostrils in a stinging, but pleasant, way. The fruity essence of plum, fermented to intoxicating perfection with just the right amount of fiery bite, hit her tongue in an aromatic wave. Sweet, rich, and subtly spicy, it was so much more exciting than ale and appreciably less intense than spiced wine or whisky.
Ahnnie found herself letting out an audible sigh of satisfaction as the cup parted from her lips. She looked up and met Cole's expectant eyes with an impressed nod. "You're really good at...well, this." She gestured at the tumbler. "Business must be good with you here."
Cole blinked. "Do you think so?"
"Well...yeah!" she nodded. "The restaura–er, tavern business relies a lot on repeat customers, and if you're able to suggest them things they'll like, it'll make them want to come back." I know I do, Ahnnie thought, swirling the wine in her tumbler appreciatively. Then again, this is literally the only tavern for miles around...no complaints here, though.
Cole looked down, hiding his face beneath the wide brim of his hat. "Thank you," he murmured a short while later, so quietly that Ahnnie almost failed to notice.
She wondered at first if she had somehow offended him. It took a moment to register his sudden shyness. Awww! she almost wanted to gush out loud. He's being bashful!
It was hard to believe, but he was actually being cute for once. As Ahnnie fought the urge to peer beneath Cole's hat, Madame Vivienne's analogy of the young man to a puppy suddenly became more relevant. So much so that it took her aback; mysterious, yes, and creepy at times, with a touch of endearing, but "cute" was now a new adjective she suddenly found fitting to describe him.
"Must be the wine," she murmured through the tumbler, taking a fresh sip to conceal the warmth already spreading on her cheeks.
The tinkling of lute strings in the beginnings of a song carried over from across the tap room, and Ahnnie remembered the new song that Maryden had wanted to play. She perked up in the bard's direction and saw her dark-haired head bent studiously over the lute. The steady tune was nice and relaxing, though unlike Maryden's usual repertoire, it carried within it a somber tone.
"A soldier, a savior; a hero, a leader, Inquisitor fought for our souls..."
Krem looked about the table as the song's nature grew more obvious, leading the Chargers into a chorus of amused "oohs". "To the Inquisitor!" he exclaimed with a raise of his mug, and the Chargers readily complied, accompanied by Netta's little voice and those of several neighboring tables. Ahnnie smiled sheepishly and turned back to her wine, the liquid contortions of the table through the glass suddenly made more interesting.
"A battle, a breach,
The one we beseeched,
To protect our lives and our homes...
Now how do we follow?
The battle is all but won.
Peace can't last forever;
Guard us from what's to come."
"It's all right," Cole whispered. "You needn't be afraid. They do this because they like you."
Ahnnie looked up at him. "I-I know," she whispered back, "but, it's just...I just haven't gotten used to it."
"Inquisitor, take your breath..."
She sighed at the irony and leaned on an elbow as she decided to continue eating, keeping her head down all the while.
"You probably won't," Cole conceded. "But you'll never be lonely. It's better than what you had to go through."
"A soldier, a savior;
a hero, a leader,
Inquisitor fought for our souls..."
"I guess that counts for something," Ahnnie said with a shrug. In thinking of what she had to go through, however, her mind wandered back to the Breach, to the life she'd sealed along with it...If only I didn't have to lose everything I liked from before, she thought, and quickly shut it down before it could go any further. Focus on this, she reminded herself, anchoring down in Maryden's lyrics; this is the reality now. This is all that matters.
She didn't have to go far, anyway; as the song plucked into another chorus, a sturdy hand suddenly clapped on her shoulder. Ahnnie whirled around and saw that it was Varric. She stood up to greet him then and had her mouth formed in a "Hello", when she noticed the graveness of his expression.
"Come with me," the dwarf instructed under his breath. "Hawke's here."
"Didya really have to bring those books?"
"I wouldn't trust them with the Chargers any day of the week. They used them to play catch when I was there...I don't want to think of what'll happen when I'm not there."
Varric frowned at the tomes in her arms before conceding with a slow nod. "Fair enough. But put 'em down somewhere. Those things look heavy."
Ahnnie looked about the battlements and decided on the flat edge of the balustrade. "Sooo," she began as she set the books down, "is he going to take a while? Or is this..."
But Varric was too distracted with watching their surroundings and appeared not to have heard. She decided to drop the matter and leaned against the balustrade, opening up the Inquisition history book to pass the time. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel the shock and surprise that had surged through her the moment Varric first uttered the name–
Hawke. The Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, subject of books and ballads – or at least, what fanciful tales Varric had told her of him – still, she had heard other Thedosians utter his name, and when they spoke it, it was in terms of a legend. Among many of his exploits, he was critical in repelling Qunari invaders some seven years back and received the title of Champion from the then-Knight Commander of Kirkwall. Less than a decade, and he's already known all over Thedas – yet his supposed encounter with Corypheus was...new, to say the least.
Common knowledge dictated that he mysteriously disappeared after the Battle of Kirkwall. Quite understandable, given the circumstances. But no one knew where he was, or even if he'd died. Varric always made it a point to tell her in his stories that Hawke had gone missing; now he was suddenly reachable through raven and coming to meet her at any moment? And he was the "friend" that had advice to give on Corypheus?
Had Varric's mannerisms not been so serious, Ahnnie would have taken the entire thing for an elaborate prank.
"Ah, there you are," Varric exclaimed, breaking the girl from her thoughts. "I thought you'd never come. Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."
"Though, I don't use that title much anymore," a deep voice interjected, and Ahnnie turned from the balustrade to find that it belonged to a gruff-looking man in his late thirties to mid forties. She didn't know what she'd expected, but she didn't envision the Champion of Kirkwall looking so tousled, with an unkempt mess of black hair and beard, and neither had she imagined him looking so...tired. She supposed that was to be expected, given the circumstances of their meeting, but he seemed to carry more than the weight of regular fatigue beneath his eyes. One thing she certainly recognized, however, was the bright red smear of paint slashed across his nose bridge; his character trademark.
"Hawke, the Inquisitor," Varric introduced.
"And so we are," Hawke groused. "She understands Common?"
"Of course. She's foreign, but not that foreign." Varric smiled at him. "I doubt this bears repeating, but I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him, after all."
Wait, what? Ahnnie looked accusingly at Varric, but the dwarf had ambled away to another side of the battlement by then, leaving her and Hawke to themselves.
"Mm," Hawke grunted, giving the girl a passing glance before heading for the balustrade. She looked from Varric to Hawke before deciding to follow Hawke, approaching his back with more than a little trepidation.
"O-oh, let me move those," Ahnnie stuttered when Hawke leaned against the stone, his elbow mere centimeters away from her books' spines. She slid them aside carefully, froze as second thoughts developed on whether or not it seemed rude, then sheepishly settled back from the balustrade with her hands clasped behind her back.
Hawke regarded the books and her jerky movements with an inscrutable eye. She fought back a gulp, creeping shame prickling against her neck at the thought of his first impression being that of incompetence. "You want my advice?" he asked at last, voice ringing harshly. "Did you hear what happened to Kirkwall? My advice nearly tore that city apart."
"I..." She cleared her throat. "I've heard. It's...well, it was tough, but you did the best you could in an impossible situation, and...people were going to die either way..."
Hawke snorted dryly. "Very encouraging."
"Ah, I didn't mean to..." She stopped, took a deep breath, and said, "I guess I should have said that, had it been anyone else, they would have broken down. But you saw it through, and it wasn't the best outcome, but I mean, could there really have been an ideal outcome? No one can do everything at once, and–"
He held up a hand of interruption. "Fair enough. I'll tell you whatever you think will help. But just so you know, you've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I'm sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison."
"He escaped anyway," Ahnnie pointed out, "and I didn't do it on my own. If it wasn't for all of Haven..."
"You've already sealed the Breach. At your age, that's damned impressive. I could barely get my friends to stop fighting."
She shook her head. "Whatever you know helps. It doesn't matter what I've done – I need help, and Varric said you could give it. Why else are you here now in Skyhold?"
"All right, all right," Hawke sighed. "I'll tell you what I know...for whatever good it does."
A weighty silence fell between them, and Ahnnie wondered whether Hawke planned to renege on his promise. Their conversation didn't have the smoothest of starts, after all. But perhaps he was gathering his thoughts? Or was he waiting on her to start asking? First thing I'd like to know, is how on earth he and Varric encountered Corypheus...
Just as she decided to open her mouth, Hawke finally opened his. "This view reminds me of my home in Kirkwall," he remarked. "I had a balcony that overlooked the whole city. I loved it at first, but after a while, all I could see were the people out there depending on me."
She looked from him to the courtyard below, watching the tiny people move about in their daily goings-on. "I can relate," she confessed. "I've tried not to think about it much, but it kind of scares me when I do. I just tell myself that this is as much for me as it is for them." She bit down on her bottom lip and turned to Hawke. "Does...does it ever get any easier?"
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and shrugged. "I'll let you know."
"Oh, okay..." Ahnnie stretched her arms and brought them back in front to cross them. "So, uh...Varric said that you guys fought Corypheus before..."
Hawke straightened himself with a grunt and stood face-to-face with her. "Fought and killed," he supplied. "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used their connection to the darkspawn to influence them."
"Corypheus got into their heads," Varric added as he paced by. "Messed with their minds. Turned them against each other."
"Grey Wardens..." Ahnnie frowned. "Does that have anything to do with their disappearance?"
"They could have fallen under his control again," Hawke guessed.
An army of Venatori, Red Templars, a dragon, and now Grey Wardens? That didn't sound good. Lucky for us, Blackwall wasn't affected. "If that's so, do you think we can free them? Is it reversible?"
"It's possible, but we need to know more first."
"I see..." She frowned again. "But wait...if you guys already killed Corypheus...how is he still alive?"
Hawke raised an eyebrow and turned to Varric. "You didn't tell her?"
"Didn't think to," Varric shot back. "It wasn't important at the time."
"Great Maker, you had up until my arrival to..."
"Better that she hears from you now. Am I right?"
Hawke sighed. "I'll try to make this quick, then," he muttered, and turned back to Ahnnie. "The Grey Wardens used my father's blood some time before the Fifth Blight in a ritual to seal him deep in the Vimmark Mountains. But he could still reach out and influence their thoughts, so he sent them after me. He needed my blood to break his seals."
"And...you broke them?" Ahnnie asked.
"Had to, if I wanted to escape. One thing led to another, we fought, I killed him...and I didn't just think I killed him," Hawke insisted, his expression growing frustrated. "When the fight was done, he was dead on the ground. Maybe his tie to the Blight somehow brought him back, or maybe it's old Tevinter magic...but he was dead. I swear it."
As Ahnnie processed his words, she couldn't help but feel an ever-sinking weight lowering into the pit of her stomach. How could Varric not think this important? He could have said something when Leliana started looking into the Wardens' disappearance! It never occurred to her until now just how much the silver-tongued dwarf was potentially keeping to himself. Suddenly, she wondered what the specific details of his original imprisonment were.
But that was for another time. "What do we do, then?" she asked Hawke, helplessly.
"I didn't come this far to give you bad news," he reassured her. "I've got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me. His name is Stroud; the last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, nothing."
"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks," Varric remarked, halting in between them. "Did your friend disappear with them?"
"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."
Okay, that was a start. "We'll arrange to meet your friend, then," Ahnnie said with a nod. "But what were you investigating, if I may ask?"
"The Templars at Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium," Hawke obliged. "It was red. I'd hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it."
Ahnnie's eyes widened. "That's exactly what Corypheus' templars were using!"
"Is it now?" Hawke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. Hopefully, Stroud will know more." After some contemplation, he dropped his hand back to his side. "That's about all I can tell you at the moment. You want anything else, go to Crestwood."
Though she wished he could have provided more, the given information, however small, was good enough. "I'll take whatever lead I can get," she readily affirmed. "Thank you for coming; I needed this more than you'll ever know."
Hawke nodded. "Of course. Corypheus was my responsibility; I thought I'd killed him before. This time...I'll make sure of it."
She was surprised to hear such conviction in his voice, considering how he seemed earlier; then she realized his initial reluctance was not so much unwillingness to disclose, as it was uncertainty in his helpfulness. He seemed less formidable then as she watched him retreat from the battlements, leaving them with little more than a brusque farewell before making his secret departure.
"I should tell the advisors," Ahnnie said as she picked up her books again. "We need to leave for Crestwood as soon as possible–"
"Give it several days," Varric cut her off, and met her accusatory look with an apology. "Look, I want to get this over with as much as you do. But I'm respecting Hawke's wishes here. He doesn't want our forces on his tail. After a lifetime of fame, he just wants his privacy."
The girl opened her mouth to protest, before realizing that she would have wanted the same. "All right," she relented. "But three days...three days is all I'm waiting."
"Three days is plenty enough," Varric agreed with a grin.
Three days felt like eternal torture. They went by in such agonizingly slow speed, the urgency of what she now knew growing with every passing minute, yet the obligation of waiting to disclose it barring her from any action. It was so much so that Ahnnie couldn't find the courage to confide in Solas, even when she couldn't seem to focus during another magic practice session in the woods – and she normally would have spilled the beans to him gladly.
When the days were finally up, Josephine's office in the war room antechamber was literally the first place she sent herself to straight after awakening. It was an open-concept space tucked to the side of the room, directly visible upon entering and only encumbered by a small indentation of steps.
All was perfectly still as Ahnnie stepped into the office proper. Dust motes floated in the rays of sunlight emanating from the windows, and the hearth was freshly swept; everything had the essence of a fresh morning about it. Perhaps she had come a little too early, for not even Josephine herself was anywhere in sight. But something caught the girl's eye before she could even dwell on the matter, a little splash of color against the prim ambassador's otherwise bare desk.
So Josephine put up some flowers, Ahnnie remarked, stepping up to the desk to admire the vibrant blossoms. About time; there's never anything else on it besides paper and more paper. She smiled at the quaint little pot they were situated in, thinking the variance from Josephine's refined classiness a welcome change. I wonder who she got them from? I've only ever seen these out in the woods with Solas...
The door to the war room corridor opened just then and Ahnnie looked up to find Josephine emerging with papers in hand. "Inquisitor!" the ambassador gasped. "I did not expect to see you so early. What brings you?"
"I had something important I wanted to discuss with all the advisors," Ahnnie replied. "In fact, I think we should call together a council."
"Ah, yes, very good point!" Josephine's heels clacked against the stone as she strode for her desk. "I was thinking just the same thing!"
"You were?" Ahnnie asked confusedly, wondering how Josephine could have known what she wanted to say already.
"Why, of course, Inquisitor, I–" She paused at the desk upon noticing the flowers, her face lighting up in surprise for the briefest of seconds. It quickly melted into a pleasant smile, a smile which noticeably stuck as she slid into her upholstered chair. "As I was going to say, I've been working on something important that I think we should act on as soon as possible."
So these were a surprise? Ahnnie wondered, looking at the flowers again. Oooh...does Josephine have a suitor? But she had more important things to worry about than the ambassador's love life. "How important are we talking?
"Very important. It concerns the future of Orlais."
Ahnnie wondered how she would fit Hawke into it all, but decided to let Josephine have her say first. "Go on."
"I've made some inquiries into the Imperial Court," the ambassador explained. "The sooner we deal with the threats to the Empress, the better. The political situation in the Empire is dangerously unstable; it will complicate matters. As you know, the Empress is in the middle of a civil war..."
"Right, the thing about her cousin," Ahnnie remembered.
"Yes, Grand Duke Gaspard," Josephine clarified. "Leliana reports that a group of elves has been sabotaging both armies, drawing out the hostilities. Orlais holds Tevinter at bay; all of Thedas could be lost if the Empire falls to Corypheus. To that end, Celine is holding peace talks under the auspices of a grand masquerade. Every power in Orlais will be there."
Ahnnie frowned. "That's good, isn't it?"
"It's the perfect place for an assassin to hide."
"Oh." Now she felt stupid. "All right then...I take it to mean we need to be at this masquerade?"
"We don't have enough sway with the Court to arrange an invitation. Yet." Josephine shuffled the papers before laying them flat on her desk and dipped a pen into an inkwell. "I am working closely with Madame Vivienne on the matter; see who we can curry favor with, or, who will want to curry favor with us. While we could arrive at the masquerade under the Madame or even Duke Bastien's support, it would be beneficial to have more than one Orlesian power backing us."
"Is there something from the Grand Game that I'm missing?" Ahnnie asked. "Why all the trouble?"
"As a fairly new organization, we wouldn't want to appear too much as though we are riding on the coattails of an influential member," Josephine explained. "We want to show that we can attract the endorsement of others rather than rely on one person. If we successfully present that image, naturally more people will follow. You get the gist."
I'll never understand these Orlesian intrigues, Ahnnie bemoaned to herself. "Anyway," she began, sweeping the Empire aside, "I wanted to talk about something else entirely..."
"Yes?" Josephine asked, all ears.
Another set of footsteps opened up behind Ahnnie, and she turned her head back to find that Cassandra had entered the office. "Perfect!" the girl exclaimed. "You're just in time, Cassandra. You'll want to hear this, too."
The Seeker looked from ambassador to Inquisitor. "Indeed?" she asked as she stopped at the desk. "And what is it?"
Ahnnie's face beamed with excitement as she addressed the two women. "We finally have something new on Corypheus. I met with Varric's friend three days ago–"
"Three days ago?" Cassandra echoed. "Why did you not tell us then?"
She tried not to let the sting of reproach affect her too badly. "Well, his friend wanted me to wait. You know how Varric was about meeting privately and everything. Anyway...so, it turns out that he's fought Corypheus before, and that Corypheus used to be imprisoned by Grey Wardens, but he affected their minds and made them, well, not themselves; also, there's a Warden named Stroud with more information hiding out in Crestwood, who we'll need to go meet...Okay, my mind is all over the place at the moment," Ahnnie admitted, "so we'll probably need to gather a council to discuss it in more detail. But get this; the guy that I met with three days ago was Hawke! The Champion of Kirkwall!"
Josephine's eyes widened and her mouth fell agape. She fearfully turned towards the Seeker, whose face was absolutely seething.
Ahnnie followed Josephine's gaze and blinked at the unexpected reaction. "C-Cassandra?" she asked timidly. "Is...something wrong?"
Everything went quiet for several seconds. "Hawke," the Seeker eventually ground out, head bobbing in a slow, deliberate nod. "So it was Hawke. Varric has much to answer for."
"Now, Lady Cassandra," Josephine spluttered, but the enraged Seeker stormed out of the office just as Josephine was rising from her chair. "Oh dear," the ambassador muttered as she sank back down. "This is not good..."
Ahnnie stared confusedly after the angry woman's figure, a looming sense of dread creeping slowly through her chest. What have I done? she wondered, and ran after Cassandra before she could lose sight of her.
"Seeker – Seeker Cassandra?" Ahnnie panted to a bewildered Inquisition soldier as she stopped to catch her breath.
"She went that way, Lady Inquisitor," the soldier answered, pointing to a wooden structure across the courtyard. "Is everything all right?"
Ahnnie waved the matter away. "It's – it's okay! I just needed to know. Thanks!" As soon as she spoke the last word, she straightened back up and ran for the appointed direction.
"You're...welcome?"
Ahnnie burst through the door without a moment's hesitation and paused for more breath when she saw no one present. Then a clatter sounded from the loft above and her feet moved automatically up a pair of rickety stairs to her left.
"You knew where Hawke was all along!" Cassandra's angry shout echoed, pumping more fear and adrenaline through the girl's veins as she stomped up the steps.
"You're damned right I did!" Varric retorted. Another loud clatter followed.
"You conniving little shit!"
Ahnnie stumbled on the landing in time to find Cassandra's arm mid-swing in a punch for Varric's face. The dwarf dodged it nimbly and slipped away to the other side of the loft. "You kidnapped me!" he shot back. "You interrogated me! What did you expect?"
"You–"
"Guys!" Ahnnie shouted breathlessly as she jumped in between them. "Enough!" When they flinched instinctively in her direction, she held out her arms, for fear of them lunging at each other again.
Cassandra's eyes narrowed at the girl. "You're taking his side?" she demanded incredulously.
"N-no," Ahnnie stuttered, looking back and forth at them both, "I just...I just want you guys to stop fighting!"
The desperate crack in her voice must have had an effect, for the dwarf and Seeker relaxed their stances and the dangerous tension dropped from the air; but only some of it.
"We needed someone to lead this Inquisition," Cassandra seethed, pacing to and fro on her side of the loft. "First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then, we looked for Hawke, but he was gone too. We thought it all connected...but no." Her sharp eyes zeroed in on Varric. "It was just you. You kept him from us!"
The truth began dawning on Ahnnie at that moment. Hawke was the reason Varric was being held prisoner in the first place...
"The Inquisition has a leader!" Varric protested, gesturing tersely at Ahnnie.
"But she was not the best choice!"
Ahnnie flinched as though struck, and her arms fell back limply. Time seemed to hold still in that moment, the words echoing over and over again in her mind. She only realized she was staring dumbfounded at Cassandra when the Seeker tore herself away from the girl's widened eyes.
"Hawke would have been at the Conclave," Cassandra went on. "If anyone could have saved the Most Holy..."
"I was protecting my friend," Varric argued.
"You are a liar; a snake," she hissed. "Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, you kept him secret."
Varric held out his arms in exasperation. "He's with us now! We're on the same side!"
"We all know whose side you're on, Varric," Cassandra spat. "And it will never be the Inquisition's."
Ahnnie shook herself back to reality, remembering that she had a situation to diffuse. "Please! Cassandra, I know you're upset...but attacking him now won't help anything."
"Ha! Exactly!" Varric chimed triumphantly.
"But also, Varric..." She turned to the dwarf. "If there's anything else useful that you know, you shouldn't keep it from us."
The smugness wavered from his face the moment he caught onto the look in her eyes. "I understand," he sighed.
As the tension subsided, a fragile quiet overcame the loft. Cassandra turned away from Ahnnie yet again and plopped down on an old stool by a window; Varric paced about his side of the loft, muttering lowly to himself. In between them, Ahnnie stood rooted to the same spot, looking at each of her companions in turn and wondering where she went wrong.
An exhausted sigh escaped the Seeker, breaking the silence. "I must not think of what could have been," she murmured. "We have so much at stake. Go, Varric. Just...go."
Varric perked up at the mention of his name and turned to leave. He nodded for Ahnnie to follow, and she would have loved to, but another look at Cassandra's forlorn back led her to refuse his invitation with a sad shake of her head. He shrugged and headed for the stairs, but paused briefly on the landing. "You know what I think?" he suddenly asked. "If Hawke had been at the Temple, he'd be dead too." His face hardened. "You people have done enough to him."
"Varric," Ahnnie gasped, but the dwarf ignored her and was down the stairs before she could say anything else. She sighed and backed away from the landing. "I'm sure he didn't mean it..."
"I...believed him," Cassandra began. "He spun his story for me, and I swallowed it. If I'd just explained what was at stake...if I'd just made him understand..." She swallowed. "But I didn't, didn't I? I didn't explain why we needed Hawke...I am such a fool."
Ahnnie found another old stool and carried it over to Cassandra. She sat down on it across from the woman and folded her hands in her lap. "But what if you didn't believe him?" she challenged. "What if you'd tracked Hawke down instead? What would have happened?"
Cassandra finally turned to look at the girl and shook her head. "This is...you knew nothing of this until recently, didn't you? I'm sorry...I didn't mean..."
"Well?" Ahnnie tilted her head questioningly.
Cassandra's face twisted in conflict. "Honestly, Hawke might not even have agreed to become Inquisitor," she admitted at last. "He supported the mage rebellion, after all. He wouldn't have trusted me for a second. But this isn't about Hawke, or even Varric. Not truly." She ran a hand through her short hair and shook her head. "I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter – I don't deserve to be here."
Ahnnie drummed her fingers against her knee in thought. "Well...neither do I. And I don't mean that sarcastically," she quickly added. "I mean...have you seen our Inquisition? We're all fools, here, Cassandra. Fools who think they can save Thedas with a moldy old book and a crumbling fortress. Hell, you chose me of all people to run it, so...what do I know?"
A strangled laugh escaped the Seeker's throat. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Ahnnie shrugged. "More at home, actually."
Cassandra chortled again and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I want you to know," she said as she exhaled, "that I have no regrets. Maybe if we'd found Hawke or the Hero of Ferelden, the Maker wouldn't have needed to send you. But He did. You're...not what I'd pictured. But if I've learned anything, it's that I know less than nothing." She rose from the stool and pat the girl warmly on the shoulder. "Go now. You've better things to do than listen to an old Seeker's ravings."
Ahnnie followed suit and tapped Cassandra's hand lightly. "Anytime, Cassandra. Anytime."
She left the building first, walking carefully down the old wooden steps, and reemerged into the sunny courtyard with a lighter feeling in her step. After asking another passerby for the direction of Varric's path, she found him brooding to himself on a large boulder near the training grounds. Ahnnie pursed her lips as she came close, taking note of the troubled expression etched on his features. "Hey," she greeted. "So, um...Cassandra's calmed down, now."
"Define 'calmed down' for me in terms of who or what she's punching right now," he said, voice quavering.
Ahnnie blinked, taken aback by the dwarf's shaken countenance. "Um...no one?"
"Really?" Varric scoffed. "That's a first."
"Well..." She pursed her lips again. "You did kinda keep some secrets from us..."
"I wasn't trying to keep secrets," he protested. "I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important...at the time." He shook his head. "I know how that sounds, but you gotta believe me...I didn't think Corypheus was connected to anything until he showed up at Haven. I thought he was dead. Nothing we saw at the summit made me think he'd been there."
She had a retort formed at the back of her mouth, but swallowed it down after some thought. I suppose he's right...Varric had gone through too much with them by now to have done any of it on purpose. Whatever he did purposefully keep secret, it was all to abide by Hawke's wishes.
"I'm sorry," Ahnnie apologized at last. "That makes more sense. I thought you meant to keep quiet at first, but I was too focused on being upset to really think about what you'd experienced..."
"Ah, that's..." Varric trailed off and waved it away. "I keep hoping, you know, that none of this is real. Maybe it's all some bullshit from the Fade, and it'll just disappear if I close my eyes."
"Same," Ahnnie murmured.
"Probably sucks the most for you," he remarked. "Perfectly wonderful and peaceful life, then boom; stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of monsters and Chantry clerics wanting to kill you."
"That's..."
Varric frowned. "Come to think of it, what was your life like, specifically? I mean, I know about Earth and how it's different from Thedas, but what were you like?"
She was speechless for several seconds, gesturing and shrugging in a futile effort to find the words. "Well...I was...me? Life before was pretty plain, really."
"But you've changed. This has all changed you," he said, gesturing at their surroundings. "And for better or for worse?"
"Oh...like...do I wish it never happened?" Ahnnie shrugged again. "I don't...know. What about you?"
He let out a dry cackle. "Ah, you know me. If I could've rewritten a few things, I would've. And I'd make it pretty exciting, too. Though I suppose you could say I've had my fair share of excitement already."
Ahnnie couldn't help but crack a smile. "From what I've heard, it's practically straight out of an adventure novel. I wonder how much of it is true and how much is just embellishment?"
They both shared a much needed laugh at that. It was refreshing to be in good spirits again, just like old times. "Cassandra probably regrets how things went back there," she remarked after her last chuckle. "You should go talk to her."
Varric smiled sympathetically at her as he slid off the boulder. "I appreciate your trying to keep the peace, kiddo, but things between me and the Seeker are as good as they'll get." Then he paused, rough eyes softening with remorse. "And...I know I need to do better. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Varric," Ahnnie reassured him. "I do, too."
A/N: Added to the Asian explanation in Chapter 2 for accuracy & better flow. Also made Ahnnie ask Varric why he was a prisoner in Chapter 4; I left that unaddressed whereas Ahnnie would have said something. Edited her horseback lessons to start in a round pen before hitting the trails, as it is not a good idea to do so otherwise. Finally, fixed her dialogue with Cole in Chapt 29 cuz I thought she sounded too mean to him.
Why Ahnnie considers her name to start with 'A' rather than 'D' – Diễm is actually her middle name, and in Vietnamese, middle & first names are often linked so it's not unusual for someone to introduce themselves with both but then be addressed after the fact by the first one. While her name's arrangement in English should be Anh Diễm, she keeps the original because the reverse sounds awkward. Fun fact: girls who have 'Anh' as their first name tend to use both names all the time because calling them by 'Anh' alone sounds too much like the pronoun for older brother-aged male.
To guest papaRazzi- Thanks! I'm glad to hear that! I checked out the songs you mentioned and they're very good. The one by Evanescence especially is very...on point for Ahnnie and Cole. The "home" line is a total Ahnnie thing considering the plot, and when the guy says "don't let me die here" he sounds eerily a lot like Cole. Glad you enjoyed the fic!
Hypermuffins- aaaah I got reviewed by Hypermuffins! I've seen your Inquisitor/Cole fanfic and am really flattered you took the time to review! Hopefully mine doesn't disappoint, seeing as it's going to be a very veeeeerrrryyy slow burn!