Saevin held the apartment door open for her cousin, the rusty hinges making a fuss under the pressure. As soon as she let go the heavy door slammed shut into the frame, shaking the wall a little. She curled a finger around the lightswitch on the wall and pale fluorescent lights buzzed to life in unprotected sockets over the kitchen and the small bare living room. A single fan blew air from underneath a tightly shut window overlooking a scrap yard filled with smoke and the loose fabric on the old couches that had once been the colour of aravel sails fluttered tiredly. Scrolls and old paintings leaned up against cracked walls, none of the dry wall safe enough to actually hang the art. A small shrine to Elgar'nan and Mythal stood in the corner. Tiny plastic statues surrounded by incense pots and fruit offerings. The smell was familiar and biting.
Cha'cer flopped down on one of the uneven couches and toed off her boots by the heels. They fell to the floor with a loud clunk and her cousin shot her an irritated look as she started undoing her head scarf. They were only cousins by technicality, to be honest, having both been adopted by Keeper Dashana as an attempt to keep Clan Lavellan from permanently dying out.
Neither were related by blood and it showed. Saevin's skin was a warm copper in comparison to her own milky pallor. Her hair was as black as Cha'cer's own and kept kept short and neat, tucked behind long ears. Occasionally one or two strands would break free and dangle on her cheek when she was worked up, but a flustered Saevin was a rare sight. Her green eyes radiated calm and control, even when sparks of electricity flew across her skin like they had at the precinct, there was nothing about it that seemed unintentional.
Of course it was unintentional. But First Saevin would be cold in the ground before she admitted to a shem that it was sometimes difficult to control lightning. Especially when she was emotional.
Like the storm was unraveled with the scarf, Saevin's calm demeanor vanished. She rushed over to Cha'cer's side and immediately grabbed her by the wrists to inspect the damage the handcuffs had caused. Healing magic poured through her fingertips into Cha'cer's skin and her nose scrunched as she worked.
"We could always flee to Denerim," Cha'cer offered lamely.
That earned her a puff of frustration. "And leave our ancestral home? I don't think so, lethallan."
Cha'cer snorted. "Not really our ancestral home. Lavellan by technicality doesn't exactly brim with elvhen tradition."
Saevin stopped healing her and pursed her lips. Cha'cer flexed her wrists experimentally and tried to get away with just a teasing grin. Saevin was having none of it. She gave her the keeper look that threatened ten long meditation sessions and at least four lectures. And Cha'cer knew from experience that she meant it.
"Sorry." She apologized with a sigh. "That was uncalled for. It's just been one hell of a day."
"I imagine so," Sae said with a lifted brow. She sat back on her haunches and rested her weight on her thin arms. "Identity theft, Cha'cer?"
Cha'cer fell back onto the couch with a thud and covered her face with a pillow. Saevin was on top of her in a heartbeat, wrestling the stained cushion away with surprising strength from her noodle arms. The pillow hit the wobbly coffee table and both crashed to the floor. Cha'cer groaned and covered her face with her hands instead.
"It was supposed to be a surprise." She mumbled through her fingers.
"Consider me surprised."
Cha'cer wiggled her hands into the front pocket of her coat and found the cassette tape she had stolen with the tips of her fingers. She twirled it between her fingers hesitantly, re-reading the title again to make sure it was the right tape. They'd already confiscated her Tale of the Inquisitor thinking that had been the stolen goods. Hopefully the shopkeeper would be placated with that. Cha'cer frowned and clutched the plastic so that Saevin's curious eyes couldn't read the title.
"Promise you won't freak out?" Ch'acer asked hesitantly.
"Why would I—"
"Just promise." She insisted. Saevin nodded warily and gestured for Cha'cer to hand it over.
She placed the tape in Saevin's palm gently and waited. Her cousin's eyes scanned the thing meticulously, reading the fine print without difficulty. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her lips tugged over to the side as she browsed the table of contents on the back. She blinked a couple times, then looked at Cha'cer. "I don't get it."
Cha'cer sighed and snatched the tape back. She found the chapter with Dalish history and tradition and pointed a finger at it to demonstrate. Saevin stared blankly. She tapped the case meaningfully. "Dalish traditions?" Saevin shrugged helplessly. Cha'cer groaned. "You know. Keeper shit?" Saevin scowled. Cha'cer tried to wave the words away. "No, no, like. Actual shit regarding Keepers. Ceremonies and rites. I was hoping there'd be something in there about, y'know. How to get you from First to Keeper."
Realization bloomed in Saevin's eyes and her jaw dropped. She clutched the tape tightly to her chest and let out a cry of delight. She hopped off Cha'cer's lap in a split second and dove into the satchel lying on the floor. She had the headphones out in a split second and the cassette player door open before Cha'cer could wrap her hands around Sae's and squeeze them.
"Hold on, hold on!" Cha'cer warned. "It's not… It's not the whole solution. It just tells you the mumbo jumbo you need to say and what the Elder Keeper needs to say n'stuff."
Saevin frowned. "But Keeper Dashana is…" The light in her eyes hollowed out again and Cha'cer felt her heart break a little.
"I know, Sae, it's not perfect but… But that's where the identity theft came in." She drew in a slow breath and pointedly avoided making eye contact with her cousin. "I may or may not have uh. Well. Impersonated her. Dashana, I mean. Er. Keeper Dashana."
"You what?"
"Just once!" Cha'cer protested, not liking the shade of murder that had crept into Saevin's features. "And just for like, twenty minutes. Thirty tops. But it did let me get-" Cha'cer held up a finger with one hand and dug through her bag with the other. She produced a thin purple folder and handed it to her cousin. "-this.
Sae eyed it suspiciously, turning open the cover with a thumb and reading through the first couple of pages. Green eyes bulged from her head and she gasped audibly. Suddenly Sae's arms were around her neck in a brutally forceful hug and Cha'cer could feel the crackle of electricity thrumming along her cousin's ears.
"It's just some paperwork Sae, honest." She explained, voice a little hoarse from being pressed into her cousin's shoulders. "Nothing is official until there's a Keeper's signature at the bottom of the page but-"
Saevin released her and beamed. "Thank you, lethallan."
"-but maybe," Cha'cer continued experimentally, "it doesn't have to be Dashana. Y'know? There are loads of Keepers. Some of them are even nice. If you do all the right bows and say the right shit, I'm sure someone can sign the stupid piece of paper."
Saevin had already whisked the folder away and brought it to the pile of threats from the Circle. Intimidating shades of blue and pink official notifications warned the last First of Clan Lavellan that without a permit, she would have to join the Circle; somewhere Cha'cer could not follow. Without Sae, she'd lose the apartment to the waves of gentrification led by the Chantry and Seekers alike. It would mean homelessness and a life without family for them both. The world was not kind to elves still, though she supposed it never had been.
The folder was wedged neatly between a vaguely rusted coffee pot (another valuable dumpster find) and the metal tea pot Saevin kept. Her cousin was practically glowing. Cha'cer allowed herself a small smile. Surely a year of community service was a payable price to keep her family.
. . . . .
"A library," Cha'cer groaned. "A library? You may as well put me in a museum."
Cassandra grunted in response, her hand firm on Cha'cer's shoulder, guiding her towards the car. Cha'cer's heels clicked against the parking lot concrete and she wobbled a little. The shoe's were Sae's, as was the dress, tights and damnable traditional flower headpiece. Sae had cooed over her and preened her hair insisting that she wear it down for once. It covered the shaved sides of her head and only barely reached past her chin in a sharp straight line. Sae tucked her forward most bangs back with a bobby pin that kept coming loose. She had insisted that the mixture of orchid blossoms and a great white lily was necessary to keep her hair pinned. Utter bullshit.
The dress, at least, was acceptable. It was a dark shade of purple (she'd vehemently rejected anything with floral patterns and nearly had a seizure when Sae offered to weave her a dress of blooms with her magic) and clung tightly to her waist and flat bust. The skirt brushed just an inch past her knees and kept out of the way for the most part as she moved. She did wish that she had her leather jacket, though. For one, it was freezing. Two, Cassandra gripped her shoulder like she was expecting the elf to be made of platemail. Entirely unnecessary. It's not like she could hope to outrun the tank of a woman. Even in her formal suit and sash Cassandra looked like a force to be reckoned with.
Cha'cer stopped mid step, relishing the way the bigger woman faltered. She knelt down and quickly undid the buckles of her heels, slipping her fingers through the straps to carry them instead. The ground felt like ice but it was oddly relieving after having stood for so long. She would have to tell Sae of the grievous wounds her shoes had inflicted.
"Can't we at least go home first so I can change?" Cha'cer asked, stumbling to keep up with the Seeker. "You can't seriously expect me to tour my first ever encounter with a fossil looking like this."
"You say that so smugly for someone who was caught stealing cassette tapes." Cassandra's eyes slid to hers to make absolutely sure that the look of distaste had registered. It had.
"Don't be rude." Cha'cer chastised. "That's totally different. That's sentimentality. Unlike you, I have a personality."
"Ah yes," Cassandra said. "The schmuck."
Cha'cer cringed. Cassandra let go of her shoulder only so that she could open the door to the back seat of her dark blue sudan. She feigned a tight smile, disgust still obvious in her eyes like she was daring her to make a break for it. She considered it, if just to be difficult, but decided to climb into the car after all. Cassandra made a face at the dirt covering the soles of Cha'cer feet, so she made a point to wiggle them on the nice plush carpetting inside the car with a big lopsided grin. The Seeker rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut. She poked a finger pad on the door handle and Cha'cer watched with alarm as it locked from the outside in.
Cassandra slid into the drivers seat with a huff and started the ignition. The car roared to life, dashboard blazing all sorts of different symbols that seemed awfully intimidating. She watched as Cassandra took the great leather stick and yanked it backwards until the car was purring under her touch. Smooth ride or not, Cha'cer was gripping the handle on the door so hard she felt pins and needles all up and down her arm. She would never admit to the Seeker that this was her third time in one of these ten ton metal death traps, but Creators she hoped this wouldn't be a frequent experience.
She swallowed dryly. "So… How long are you going to hold that schmuck think over my head?"
Cassandra snorted. "A full year, I suppose."
"A full year at a library." Cha'cer mused. "For stealing a cassette tape."
"Seven cassette tapes." Cassandra reminded her. "And several counts of graffiti, and identity theft-"
"Yes, yes, I was at the hearing. I'm well aware." She grumbled. "You shems make it sound like the end of the fuckin' world."
Cassandra's eyes found hers in the rearview mirror and glowered. "Crime is a big deal, Lavellan."
Cha'cer fell silent at that, not particularly wanting to explain her motives to the Seeker. If she had actually pulled off the stunt, Sae would've been able to find a proper job. They might even be able to move out of the projects. Cha'cer wasn't sure if even then she'd feel safe walking the streets without a switchblade in her pocket but it was a novel idea that someday it could happen. Saevin liked to remind her that hope was a powerful thing. The Inquisitor had found hope in the gift from the Creators and sealed the rifts without any prior knowledge. Divine influence, Dashana would have said. Or a Divine curse. It was hard to tell with elven gods.
Gods seemed so small next to the creations of man. Streetlights flickered on with magic and bathed the pavement in a warm orange. Glittering designs swirled and sparked around the bulb of the lantern in the nicer neighborhoods. Sometimes the colours would change to indicate time or for holidays. Beautiful vines clawed up the cracked alleyway walls as if to reclaim what had been stolen from nature. She pressed her face against the glass of the window and stared as they passed the towering structures. It was strange to think that Haven had once held the ashes of Andraste, or the destroyed camp of the Inquisition. So much had happened here; so much death. And now tropical flower shops and Antivan restaurants sold colourful foods from decorated glass windows. People bundled up in tight coats, unaware or uncaring that they walked over the graves of the most important people in Thedas history. Cha'cer tucked her head into her arm and sighed. If she were completely honest, Clan Lavellan died with Dashana. One simple street mugging and the last descendant of the Inquisitor was gone. Two orphaned city elves could only do so much to cling to history. Her fingers itched to find the buttons on her cassette tape player that was stored safely at home.
Cassandra's car swung easily into the spot closest to the door and for a brief moment, she hoped that the Seeker was dropping her off. She left her shoes in the car for safe keeping and a sign of good faith and stepped out onto the smooth parking lot. The library itself looked like it had survived the centuries of history and more. Ancient stone walls towered high and peaked in carved archways like an old fashioned Chantry. The windows were stained glass and dusty, the glass thinner in the middle like a half melted hard candy. No rugs were lain on the floor to soften her steps, so the sharp rapping of Cassandra's shoes on stone were echoed by the soft patter of bare feet.
Cha'cer suddenly felt very much like a Dalish stereotype and wished she had brought her shoes in with her. She pulled the wilted flower out from the pin and tucked it in her palm, eyeing the empty service counters stocked with ancient computer monitors the size of a tire. The shelves of books were further off behind carefully picked out sets of tacky reading chairs. On the wall to the left there was a refreshment stand. There was a neon pink slip of paper attached to the coffee pot that read 'indefinitely out of order'.
As far as she could tell, there was only one other person in the building. A tall man, an elf, with long thick dreads tied back into an orderly braid. He had on thin rimmed glasses and frowned at the bookshelves like they'd said something personally offensive. Judging by the extremely worn in jeans and faded green t-shirt, Cha'cer would've guessed local hipster or hobo until Cassandra waved to grab his attention. The man gave the Seeker a terse smile and gestured to the seats next to the shelves.
The Seeker's hand found her shoulder again and guided her to one of the floral patterned seats. Cha'cer swung her legs up over the armrest and eyed the man. His face was bare, so likely born and raised in the city. The charm he held around his neck could've made him a Circle graduate. That would be tricky. Most interesting though was his face. He was handsome for sure, but Cha'cer couldn't get a feel for his age. Older than her she assumed by they way he cradled books like children, but his skin was smooth-if pale. He had the tired look of someone who hated their job but none of the bitterness. It was like he had shut himself away from sunlight for so long he had forgotten its touch. When he finally turned his eyes to her and scanned her vallaslin with a strange look, she felt herself grip the flower arrangement in her hand more tightly and wishing that Sae was there.
The man ignored Cassandra and took a few careful paces to where she sat and Cha'cer stood up in a hurry. The way he held his shoulders back, she almost felt like she should've saluted. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Slender fingers took her hand and the flowers clutched inside. Something warm touched her palm and she looked down. Green wisps covered her hand and wove around the wilted petals gently. They urged the leaves to regain stiffness and colour rushed into the flowers like water seeping into the pores. The bloomed fiercely in her palm. Sae had never been able to bring a dead flower back. Cha'cer frowned.
"You are my newest ward, I take it?" The man asked. Cha'cer's eyes jerked up to meet his again, full of suspicion.
She searched his features for scars of vallaslin, but found none. Floral magic was often unique to each clan, Keepers and Firsts having specialties and favourites for ceremonies. Saevin was the most talented with the trick she'd ever come across so he… He must have been… Cha'cer's frown deepened. "Are you… Are you Dalish?" She asked.
"Is that a serious question?" He laughed. "Where else do you expect to find such parlor tricks? Surely the Circle would have me lecture you on the dangers of toying with flowers."
His eyes sparkled but there was an odd resentment in his tone only thinly masked. Despite the admission, he held himself like a shem politician. Each gesture was calculated and smooth. Even his expression gave nothing away save the tracing the markings on her face with a carefully blank look. She wasn't entirely sure what his answer had meant. He seemed to find both ideas distasteful even as he admitted to being one of the People. A bare-faced Dalish mage. He had to have been a Keeper, then. Or a First, but... It was not impossible. He could have been adopted by one of the clans. Cha'cer shook her head and eyed him with great suspicion. "Anderan atish'an, haren. I am Cha'cer of Clan Lavellan."
There it was. As soon as she said 'Lavellan' the same look of revilement passed over his features. Then he was one of the People after all, Cha'cer thought bitterly. None hated the living legacy so much as the clans that envied their renown or the 'descendants' that lived off the Inquisitor's coattails. She jerked her hand out of his and looked to the ground instead. He seemed suitably embarrassed, but she doubted it was genuine. It felt strange to prefer the company of the Seeker to this Dalish man, but she did. Cassandra was at least honest in her disgust.
The man cleared his throat. "Abelas, lethallan. I spoke unfairly. It is an honour to meet you and you may call me Solas. I am not so old yet to find comfort in 'haren'."
Cha'cer snorted. "Always good to know the librarian is so full of life."
He looked affronted, but Cassandra stepped in with a reprimanding look. "Solas is your new boss," she said sharply. "His supervision over you will let us know when exactly you are ready to reintegrate into the rest of society."
A frown pulled on Cha'cer's face. "I thought this gig was for a year, tops."
"If everything goes well, yes," the Seeker said, ignoring the cry of protest. "Should Solas or I find your behaviour unacceptable then jail time is still on the table, Lavellan."
"You're fucking kidding me," Cha'cer snapped at Cassandra. The Seeker had let go of her shoulder in favour of handing Solas a hastily paperclipped stack of papers from under her arm. He flipped through them non-chalantly, completely unbothered by Cha'cer's rising panic."What about my real job? I can't just stay part-time forever! I have to eat and pay rent. Or are Seekers above such worldly needs that they forgot how the rest of the fucking city works? I can't live off of volunteer work you fuckin-."
"May I remind you," Cassandra interrupted coldly, "that good behaviour is invaluable to you right now."
Cha'cer's mouth snapped shut but she felt the tips of her ears flush with anger. The freshly healed flowers in her hand crumpled under her grip and she understood with complete clarity how Saevin had difficulty containing herself. She steeled her nerves and stalked over to the nearest metal trash bin to angrily toss the petals as hard as she could, The soft thump was not nearly as satisfying as she had hoped and she half wanted to kick the damn bin across the floor. She stood there for a second, flexing her fingers and wishing badly that she could run, that she could scream at the Seeker until her throat was hoarse. Behind her she heard them speaking in hushed tones about her restrictions as if she were a child. As if she needed to be corralled and harassed into a 'better life'. Like she was supposed to find a solution to her problems here amongst entirely forgotten paperbacks and fossilized hardware with some old Dalish Keeper that-
Her hand froze mid-flex and the gears in her head clicked into place. If Solas was truly a Keeper, or even just a First, then he could endorse Saevin. He could sign the papers and no matter what happened to Cha'cer, Saevin wouldn't be taken away. They could finally pull in more than Cha'cer's pitiful income and maybe even start trying to restore the honour of the Clan. Maybe even pay off the last of her community service time. She swallowed hard. Was it worth the risk? He could just as easily turn her in for a five year term. The Divine Judge Justinia had been lenient in her sentencing, but Cassandra had made it all too apparent how quickly that could change. The Seeker's foot steps echoed as she left the premises and Cha'cer heard Solas clear his throat again. She turned to study him again at the invitation. The irritation on his face was plain, but he did not look mean. It was still too early to tell, but the way he tucked his hands behind his back and shifted his weight easily from foot to foot made him look gentle; controlled. She took the pin from her hair and tossed it into the trash bin behind her without looking and wrapping her hair back into the usual ponytail. His eyes fell on the shaved sides of her head and she watched him intently. He shifted his weight again when he caught her staring but she didn't look away.
"I believe we got off on the wrong foot, lethallan," He spoke carefully, like he was trying to avoid picking a fight with a bear. Good. "If money is truly an issue for you, I will try to find some means of compensation."
A slow smile spread across Cha'cer's face.
. . . . .
Hi again friends! Sorry this update took a million years.
Anyway, I've been thinking of something since I wrote Champion. I wanted to find a way to thank all the reviewers in a more personal way. Previously I've just been responding in a PM with thanks and thoughts, etc. Would you guys like it if I held a giveaway at the end of the fic? Each review would count as an entry. I could do something similar with favs or follows. I'm more than happy to write oneshots with you guys' heroes or draw art of them, I'm just not sure I could do it for absolutely everyone hahaha. Hence giveaway.
So let me know your thoughts and how you liked the update! As always, please for the love of god go read Where The Sky Will Be Kept. It's incredible and it's going to be complete soon.
Ok bye bye now.