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If felt like they had been on the ship for a lifetime, it was a sentiment that Alistair was used to. It wasn't like he had a massive attention span after all, and it also wasn't like there was much to do on a damn boat. But this time had been different.
He and Cullen had spent days trying to help Hawke use the stone… much to the constant wails of the three mages on board. Alistair smirked to himself, Bethany had been able to vent her frustration by firing spells at them to test the stone's capacity, and assert her discomfort in open view of their other Templar friend.
Anders and Merrill, on the other hand, had been forced to reduce themselves to red faced grumbles and grunts… the healer taking to the grinding of his herbs with particular zeal, the elf looking longingly to her staff… which she would then profess loudly was a walking stick.
He glanced to where Hawke was currently arguing with her sister, the look of irritation writ across her features. He smiled, her purse lipped look of fury should have been something to fear, he knew that, yet it did nothing but make him want to tease her.
"You're sure that that cave will get us in unseen?" The Warden-King heard Bethany query, not sounding overly sure.
Isabella released the row boat from its ropes, it gave a satisfactory splash as it hit the waves beneath. The pirate grunted, turning her attention to the Circle Mage. "Yes… for the fiftieth time."
"You can understand her asking…" Cullen cut in, giving the rivaini a sceptical look. "It's not like you are known for your honour…"
"I can understand it once," Isbaella snapped, "although why you think I would lie about it I don't know… I want to find that bitch and kill her… alright? These caves will eventually lead us beneath the city… and no… I don't know that from doing anything you'd call 'honourable'." She countered before Bethany could pose her question.
Hawke sighed, Alistair fought the laugh as he watched the exasperated expression that crossed her face. "Maker, Bethany! What's the point of you coming if you're only going to complain about everything?"
"I came here to support you!" The young woman bit back, a slight flush across her cheeks.
"We need to split into teams. And since we're fighting a very powerful mage it makes sense for the Templars to…"
"But why can't we stay together?" Hawke's sister pushed.
"You know why…" The blonde asserted through gritted teeth.
"And why is that..?" Cullen interceded, his eye brow arched.
Anders shifted uncomfortably, Merrill found a very interesting spot to look at on the floor and Bethany gave her sister a tight lipped, wide eyed look of apology. Hawke, on the other hand, looked ready to kill someone.
The Warden-King cleared his throat before cutting in to the tension. "Because, I can't very well leave a Ferelden vessel unannounced off the coast of Starkhaven… it might be… misinterpreted… I have to announce my arrival."
"That's no reason to separate…" Cullen still sounded unsure. "I must say I find all this…"
"Oh yes, because it would be brilliant if we roll up with a Ferelden King and a Kirkwall Templar… at a city that is still recovering from a civil war and the Circle of Magi being burned to the ground in the Blight… wouldn't be seen as suspicious at all…"
Cullen gave a grunt of resignation, his hand went to the back of his neck as if to rub it. Alistair felt relief settle on him, the last thing he needed was the Templar realising their real reasons. "Well why didn't you just say that?" The Knight- Captain grumbled.
Isabella growled, "Probably because it's wasting time… now are you getting on the damned boat or not?"
Bethany rolled her eyes at her sister, "Fine…" Her gaze swung to the group… particularly Alistair. He met her stare with a mixture of fear and amusement. It seemed that that stern, unforgiving glare was a family trait. "But if you let anything happen to my sister, you'll answer to me."
She turned, Hawke gave her sister a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she made her descent to the boat below. "Be careful." Hawke called after her.
"You too, sister…" Came the faded response.
"Try not to fuck this up too much…" The blonde chimed cheerily as Cullen made to follow her.
"…Remind me why I worry about you again…" Hawke chuckled at her sister's irritated snort.
The swordswoman looked to Isabella who was already warning Merrill to be careful and Anders to look after her. Her eyes turned to Hawke as her sermon ended, her foot going to the ladder. "Take care of them, Hawke…"
"Right back at you…" The blonde gave a smile, albeit a worried one. The pirate nodded before climbing down into the darkness.
Alistair watched as the boat became more and more invisible against the shadows, soon the only evidence it was even there was the disruption of the waves as the oars hit the water.
The ex-Templar's gaze, however, soon switched to the woman approaching, her features soft in the light of the flames that illuminated the ship… yet also served to elongate the dark mottled wounds that still covered her face.
"When did you get so good at diplomacy?" She asked almost playfully.
Alistair couldn't hide the smirk as he shrugged his shoulders in an overly exaggerated manner. "What can I say? Maybe my Kingly duties are starting to pay off?"
The smile that she gave him made him feel warm and he found himself taking in the sight of her, bruised and beaten though she was, she was still every inch the person he remembered.
The moment was stolen, however, when Anders' groan of relief preceded his arrival by Hawke's side. The Warden-King fought the urge to scowl at the mage. "Thank the Maker for that… I swear being that close to a Templar for so long was making my skin crawl. I mean… talk about being unwanted…"
"I think I know what you mean…" The sandy haired King grumbled.
….
Ebony shifted her weight from one leg to another as she listened to the prisoners mutter in the room beyond. The dwarf with a sarcastic drawl, the man with tones of regret and wistful memory. Ija had insisted Fenris be taken to another room, what for she didn't know… but knowing Ija it wasn't going to be anything pleasant for her fellow elf.
Guilt.
She felt it.
At first it had been a mild tug at the back of her mind, yet the more it pulled, the heavier she felt. The more it became all she could think about.
Ebony had expected a look of surprise, shock… fear… but instead Fenris' eyes had narrowed and his face had pulled into a scowl. She had known him for long enough to know exactly what his murderous thoughts were likely to be in that moment.
She had never wanted that from him.
She could tolerate anyone else's scorn but his.
She had felt a bond with him, a closeness that she had never known before. He knew what she had been through, because he had been through the same.
The same pain, torment, shame… misery… hopelessness… what it was to be a weapon…
When she had cried, he had held her, and although she knew his mind had been elsewhere, he had been there with her. His shoulder there to weep into, his words there to comfort.
When he had given her that look of hatred, all she wanted to do was run... Of all the blood she had seen, all the bodies that had fallen at her feet by her own blades, all of the sorrow, heartache, the tears of those about to meet their end… it seemed ridiculous that one angry look from one man was apparently all it took to unravel her.
She thought he understood her. And he probably did. That's probably why she felt as wretched as she did. And probably why she had earned his ire.
She had done many horrible things to many people. She had hardened her heart to sympathy, forgotten the meaning of mercy… so why was she feeling so sorry for herself?
Ebony had never intended Ija to insist that she join them on their journey back to Starkhaven… to receive her 'reward' for capturing the Champion's friends. Of course, she knew she couldn't say no. That was certain death… but then again… so was getting on the same ship…
"You know that we know you're there, yes?" The dwarf's sneer through the wall broke her thoughts.
Ebony grunted, she opened the door to the cell and stood there, staring in to the gloom.
It took her eyes a few moments to adjust, but she was quickly able to pick out the figures of the two captives.
The dwarf, in particular, stared at her with a look of disgust. She greeted his gaze with a blank expression. His loathing meant nothing to her.
"And you think I care about what you know?" She responded coolly.
"I know that you gave that stone back to us… can't imagine that going down well…" She could make out the smug smile on the merchant's face. Her heart lurched. If Ija found that out, she was as good as dead. And there was nowhere to run.
You're afraid, and now you're alone.
The assassin gritted her teeth, thankful for the shelter the shadows provided from Varric's austere gaze. "Your word against mine."
"You think your psychotic boss is going to care about whose 'words' they are?"
Of course she wouldn't.
"I must be mad listening to your nonsense." Ebony snapped, reaching for the door to slam it shut.
"You were mad getting on this boat." The venom and urgency in the merchant's voice made her take pause, yet her fingers wrapped around the handle to emphasise that she was seconds from walking away. "You must know you're not getting out of this alive… either she's going to kill you or I am."
"And what would you suggest? That I unburden my soul to you before I meet the Maker? I know, allow me to undo your shackles so you can escape? Do not think me a fool, dwarf. I made my choice… and I do not care for your ill conceived judgements…" She pulled the door to a close.
"You do care for Fenris though…" The merchant hissed. She halted. That was true. It wasn't something she could lie to herself about so easily. She pushed the door to fully open again. Once he was sure of her attention, Varric continued. "It's obvious… you care for him. Are you really alright, knowing that someone you care about is probably being tortured metres away from where you're standing now?"
"He made his choice." She hoped her voice didn't betray how much the thought of that made her hurt.
"So you're punishing him for choosing Hawke over you… that it? He's being hurt because he dared to love someone other than you? Have you any idea how messed up that is?"
She felt a pang of something… remorse? Grief? Nothing she hadn't hardened herself to before. She scowled at the archer.
"As I said… I must be mad listening to your nonsense."
"Yet here you are… listening to it. Is because I'm making some sense? Or is it because you've got no one else to talk to?"
Whatever she felt dissolved with the ire in her belly when she saw the truant prince smirk. She was stronger than this. She was a survivor. How dare these idiots mock her? What did they know? "Maybe I just have a soft spot for dumb animals?"
Varric gave a low laugh. "If you really believed that you'd have slammed that door already."
The door rocked on its hinges as the door crashed shut. Her eyes burned. Her heart trembled, not that she would show it.
You're afraid, and now you're alone.
"Making small talk are we?" That voice. Ebony was glad she was facing the door when she heard it, because her mask of indifferent dropped completely.
She sucked in a breath. Composed herself before turning to face Ija.
The dark haired woman stood there, taking in the sight. To call it 'staring' would have been wrong… it was like she already had a plan… knew exactly what she was going to do… had already calculated every aspect of this conversation. Ebony's stomach lurched. How long had she been standing there?
Did she know about her role in handing the stone back?
Ebony's shaking hand went to the blade at her back. It was little reassurance.
The elf shrugged, hoping it seemed genuine. "I was bored."
Ija's grin almost made her shudder. It seemed feral, cruel and taunting all at the same time. "Well let's find some amusement then, won't you have a drink with me?"
Ebony felt sick.
"Sounds like fun." She heard herself say. Was that really her voice? Why was she agreeing to this?
Those were questions she still pondered as she heard the door click behind her and she took in Ija's quarters. Knives… everywhere… and Fenris…
He lay on the ground, blood seeping from wounds to his face and his bare torso, staining the rug beneath him. His breathing was shallow, though Ebony was grateful to see his chest rise and fall at all. His arms where tied roughly behind his back. His white hair had streaks of red running through…
Fenris.
"Quite the specimen that one." Ija smiled mirthfully, pouring their drinks with one arm and beckoning her to sit with another.
Ebony rested herself in the offered chair but noticed that the mercenary remained standing. She took a sip of her drink nervously, though maintained her cool exterior. "He is… although I will admit some disappointment that you seem to have forgotten our agreement?"
Ija smirked. "Ahhh yes… that lovely dream where I kill Hawke and you and he get to frolic off into the sunset…"
"He has to be alive for that…"
"And Hawke has to be dead for that…"
She took another sip. She could feel her farce slipping away. "Perhaps if you had taken better men…?" She ventured, though not in a confrontational tone.
"Perhaps if you hadn't given back the stone?" Ija drained the contents of her glass.
Ebony felt her mask shatter, though she recovered quickly. She leaned back in her chair, feeling the comforting presence of the daggers at her belt. She took another drink as Ija filled her glass again. "You heard that?"
"Of course I did…"
"I didn't know it was yours. I didn't know you were in Kirkwall until you reached out."
"I know…"
"So our agreement stands?"
Ija gave her a knowing look. "What do you think?"
"I think I have served you many times and not made a mistake." The elf answered plainly. How was her voice so calm when her heart pounded so violently? She thought about taking another drink but she knew the trembling of her hands would betray her.
"You have… and you have only ever asked for coin before. Yet here you are… asking for me to spare an enemy. Here you are on a ship you know you have little chance of leaving alive given what you have done. Here you are in my quarters, drinking with me even though you know you have made a fatal error in crossing me. And for what? Him?" Ebony could not stop her gaze swaying to the broken form of her fellow elf. His eyes had opened, though they were narrowed and unfocused.
What had she done to him?
Ija topped up both of their glasses before continuing. "It seems to me your loyalties have become compromised. And a broken weapon is of no use to a warrior."
Ebony caught the blade aimed at her with her own, more through reflex than any anticipation. Her other knife was in her hand quickly, seeking to find an opening in Ija's attack as she surged to her feet. The assassin had to remind herself that she knew this was coming… though it did not stop the knotting of her stomach.
The mercenary twisted to the side, avoiding the dagger completely. She raised her elbow and slammed it into the elf's face. Although Ebony had managed to back away somewhat, the blow still caught her, forcing her to take a few steps of retreat.
"Don't do this, Ija."
Words… what use were words to her now?
"Do what? The kindest thing to do to a lame horse is put it out of its misery…"
"Who will you look to for the subtle killings your leader is so fond of?"
"I suppose he'll have to get used to messier kills." Ija snarled as she lunged.
Ebony centred herself. Her daggers weighing heavily in her grasp. "Messier kills?" She all but spat, catching the weight of the woman's blow. "You make it sound like you're painting a fucking canvas… not torturing people because you don't like them…" She threw her weight forward, forcing the human off balance.
Ija caught herself easily, however. She smirked at Fenris's battered body, clearly trying to push himself to his feet… clearly too hurt to even lean on his elbows… Ebony felt a rage within her as Ija's boot slammed into the elf's back, forcing him back down to the wooden floor with an impact that made the boards beneath her feet shudder. "I would expect a bit more respect from a fellow artist…"
She was smiling… the bitch was smiling.
Fenris' chokes filled the heavy air between them...
"You're no artist… you're a damn butcher."
"An amusing observation from an assassin."
"I don't see anything funny." Ebony threw the knife up, trying to distract Ija's attention. She caught it mid air, twirling the cool metal between her fingers. Her deception worked, and the mercenary didn't see the blow to her torso coming.
It slashed her rather than pierced her. The elf knew that. There was no impact behind her blow. No weight behind the stab. Only a slight resistance. Yet it still earned a hiss of pain from the woman before her.
Sensing the coming retaliation, Ebony dropped to her knees and kicked out, feeling her foot connect with Ija's ankle. The woman crashed to the ground with a satisfactory thud, though the small victory did little to ease the fear that coursed. She had a moment… and what exactly had that afforded her? She was still stuck on this ship. She was still going to die.
She still had no way out.
You're afraid, and now you're alone.
She sensed Fenris grunt behind her.
She had done this for him. Yet now here he was beaten and broken.
She couldn't get him away. She knew that.
How could she even think about that when she was trapped herself?
The door to Ija's quarters flew open, a man rushing through. "Lady Ija…!"
The narrow knife flew from her hand, silencing him before he could finish his sentence. She found her feet quickly, jumping over the fallen body with an agility that she wouldn't have thought possible given the heaviness of her shaking body. But a sense of self preservation made her push forward.
Her breath hitched. Her head swam.
But her body moved.
I'm sorry, Fenris.
The wind that met her once she pushed herself through the door to the deck of the ship should have been a welcome presence. Yet all it did was make her heart pound more. Made her hands shake more violently.
She was close. Soon she would be away. She just had to keep it together.
Her fingers wrapped around the rope to the row boat. It fell to the water with a hefty splash.
She twisted, checking the darkness for any pursuers. The shadows that had always seemed so comforting before suddenly seemed terrifying.
No one?
Seeing no one was of little comfort. Ija would have been on her feet by now. Her men had obviously heard the sounds of battle. Yet she seemed to be alone.
Why was she thinking about that? It didn't matter where everyone was. What mattered was she was alone… free to make her escape. She needed to leave… and she needed to do it now.
Ebony glanced over the side of the ship. The comforting sight of the boat below beckoned to her.
I'm sorry, Fenris.
Her breath was stolen.
The desperation of trying to fill her lungs took over everything, like a cold rush of water.
The elf knew she had been stabbed before she felt it. It was a sensation she had known before.
There was no pain to begin with, only the paralysing shock that rocked her body.
She managed to tilt her head slightly… taking in the grin on the mercenary's face at her shoulder. She was dead if she didn't move. Although she knew that she was probably dead anyway.
She had to get away.
Adrenaline pounded. She managed to suck in some air before throwing herself forward, the impact of the railing digging into her abdomen before she slipped. There was a moment when she knew she was falling.
The ice cold rush of the sea flooded everything she knew. Taking the weight off her aching joints and bones.
There was no air, only the salt and the icy pressure around her.
You're afraid, and now you're alone.
Maybe that's what I deserve.
….
Mahariel felt his jaw clench as he read the letter in his hand.
That idiot.
It wasn't enough he had to help him end a bloody Blight… a surge of darkspawn… a civil bloody war… but now the moron seemed intent on causing a diplomatic incident in Starkhaven of all places.
Even without finishing the rest of the note, he knew that the Champion of Kirkwall was somehow involved. Over the years, his friend had done little to persuade him that he had truly left her behind at those docks in Kirkwall. The elf had not pushed… not wanting to prod at a wound so obviously open. Yet now he was desperately wishing that he had.
"Why didn't you talk him out of this?" The Hero of Fereldan growled at the man who had stood in silence since delivering the offending letter.
"Argue with the… King, my lord?" The young man stammered out.
"Yes… the bloody King… unless you're telling me someone else wrote this letter?"
"No, my lord…"
"You've let your King walk into a country on the brink of revolution… chasing a wayward heir who could be seen as trying to usurp the current monarch…"
"He was adamant, my lord. His mind seemed made up…"
Mind?! Mahariel didn't know what mind the man was talking about… but he knew that Alistair must have been out of it to agree to this venture…
The elf gave an aggravated scowl at the piece of paper before folding it up and tucking it into his jerkin. "Ready the ship. We leave as soon as possible…"
"Where to, my lord?" The soldier asked dumbly.
The elf felt his eyebrow arch and the man fell silent. "Where the hell do you think?!"
"At once…" He hesitated before closing the door behind him. "You don't think his Majesty is in trouble, do you?"
"Don't be ridiculous… I haven't got hold of him… yet…"
…
Thank you for reading my latest chapter. The next one should be out much sooner.
