Warnings: mild violence
Ratings: + 15
Review responses:
The-After-Smoke: Hmm. My mom, whose British, would kick my arse if I introduced her by her first name. I'm just going by what I know of British it's no problem if this is a criticism, so long as it's constructive. I am happy to know that you absolutely 'love, love' this story. :D
Aki: I could do both for you. Anything in particular you like? Kink? Bondage (with consent of course)? Sweet and hot? PWPs or something with some plot to it?
David9999: thank you so much! Yes, I've always been curious at how things change if you meet someone like the future Archdemon slayer or what not. Haven't you always wondered on the what ifs if you did something differently or stayed in a place too long or too short? I know I have.
YoshisSupport: Don't worry. Hadrian will be mated * ahem * I mean paired with Alistair. However, our pointy-eared elf won't like it one bit! Luckily, they have Regus! Umm, which pairing do you want to see you in your one-shot?
Thanks to those who recently placed this on their favs/alerts lists: systaticism and david9999.
As always, thanks for faithful readers. Major hugs and kisses to those who leave something behind!
Not Expecting To Meet Me, Are You?
Hadrian and his group stood outside of the Hawkes' house, trying to figure out where to go and visit.
The Hawke's house was located not far from the taverns and from their vantage point, they could see smoke drifting out like a lazy snake crawling out of its burrow. The smells of food and ale drifted down their way. Both Hadrian and Alistair practically salivated at the thought of fine mead and some real food, unlike the horrible sustenance provided by their now complaining witch. Morrigan snorted at their reactions. She would never cease to be amazed by how fast men could go from the topic of doing what's necessary to food and drink at the blink of an eye.
"Hey, Alistair, how about we check out that tavern?" Hadrian nudged him in the side almost playfully, surprising the templar to see such an open face. Yes, he definitely should smile more. Alistair wholly agreed with his friend but Morrigan, being the wet blanket that she is, didn't.
"The tavern is the one place where we should not go, Wardens," she said in an almost patronizing tone. "'Tis a place where tongues waggle at the wrong time."
"I know. All the more reason to go there. If Loghain has passed through here, there's bound to be gossip. What place to hear tongues waggling than a tavern, eh Morrigan?"
The Witch of the Wilds fumed at being outwitted by this man. Never had she met anyone who had a sharper tongue than she. Except mother of course. No one could beat Flemeth in the sarcasm department.
Hadrian was delighted to see the red flush of anger overtake the witch's face. However, being a nice person at heart, he hadn't meant anything mean by it; he was just pointing out the obvious to her.
"Come on, Morrigan. Even you would appreciate a nice warm bed."
With that said, he marched off to the tavens with Alistair happily following him. She watched at how easily they walked together, their steps almost in pace with each other. Then, realizing that they weren't going to wait for her, she let out a few muttered expletives before walking after them, absolutely refusing to have their quickened pace rush her.
Like at the entrance, there was another Templar guarding the front door and he stopped them, asking what their business was here in Lothering. In response to Hadrian's reply of 'just settling in for the night,' the Templar's eyes then riveted to the female mage, a staff neatly strapped on her back.
"And this young woman?"
Hadrian burst into a smile and said, "she's with us. She lost her magi robes from the battle."
Alistair's heart thumped erratically when the Templar appeared to take a closer look at her and declare her an apostate upon inspection. He did no such thing though. Instead, he stayed where he was and granted them entrance to the taverns. Regus had wanted to follow them but was barred from entering. Seeing as how there was no way he could get past the human, he stayed outside, waiting patiently for their return.
The din of the tavern was loud and jarring to Hadrian's sensitive ears, almost to the point of being painful. The place was fully crowded and there were no available seats, tables, or even mere standing room to be found. The clamor of people talking in various tones, from apathetic to sober, drowned out the barely audible sounds of beer being served out to the customers and the crackling of the fireplace.
What was the main focus of Hadrian's attention was a medium-size group of armored men that were just standing there. They all wore the standard uniform of infantry soldiers, garbed in heavy chainmail. The man in the centre of it was attired in the manner of a lieutenant for his armor was made out of slightly superior material than of his men. Unfortunately, they were emblems of a wild boar poised against a white sun and Hadrian tensed.
Alistair stopped next to him and whispered a name Hadrian really didn't want to hear right now.
"Loghain's men."
Before Hadrian could reply, the man in the centre suddenly turned around and accosted them aggressively.
"You there! You look like Grey Wardens!"
"We just wear Grey armor," Alistair joked and he earned a rough elbow in the ribs. "Ow! Well, we do!"
Hadrian glared at his friend but it was too late to take back the insult.
"Loghain said there would be a bounty on the Wardens' heads. He said they deserted the King on the field, leaving him to die out there!"
Everybody started to stare at them at hearing the names of Loghain and the Wardens. No doubt Loghain would have started a rumor to instigate the public's distrust in the old Order of guardians.
"We didn't betray the King. Loghain did by not heeding to the King's signal." Hadrian growled back.
"Watch what you say about Loghain!"
"Gentlemen, please. We can talk this out," a melodious voice interrupted them. A young woman wearing the robes of a lay Sister of the Chantry joined in their 'conversation.' She was quite pretty and tall as well, almost towering Morrigan herself by a few inches. However, the way she carried herself told Hadrian that she was not really a lay sister and he brought up his guard.
"Stay out of this, sister. This is between Loghain and the traitors to the crown!"
"Please stay back, sister," Hadrian's reply to her suggestion was said in a very calm tone, as opposed to the snarl of the lieutenant.
"Men, attack them! Loghain wants them dead or alive." The lieutenant cried out, pulling out his sword and shield. At his word, eight men surrounded the trio, clearly outnumbering them. The lieutanent smirked at how his men easily caused the trio to be encircled but it fell a few minutes later when the business end of a sword was at his throat, the tip cutting into the skin very lightly.
"You wanted to talk, right?" Hadrian's question was emphasized when the tip of the sword went into a little bit deeper and drawing blood. "Talk, now!"
The subdued man gulped at the threat and he babbled on how Loghain marched through here, saying how the King's Army was betrayed from within and the Darkspawn overwhelmed them, thus, forcing everyone north for safety. The man also spilled out news of Loghain's instigation of the Wardens being responsible for the betrayal and that a bounty of 100 sovereigns was placed on each head.
Although the man ranted, Hadrian and his group got the jist of it. Alistair's fists clenched tightly at the thought of the man he used to worship was now blaming them for the disastrous defeat. Hadrian scowled and he almost made a move to finish the man until a pale hand touched him on the forearm.
"Killing him won't bring back the dead," the Sister said in a mournful voice. "and it will only prove Loghain right."
There was no way around her correct conclusion. The last thing they needed was the general public to be openly hostile to them and hindering their journey.
Hadrian put up his sword and waited for the man to clamber up before grabbing the front of his breastplate and pulling him forward only to whisper in his ear, "tell Loghain that we're coming for him and there would be no place to hide when we do so."
The man fervently nodded and he let out a pained yelp when Hadrian released him with a rough push. Not sparing another glance at the man and his friends, he swiftly ran to the exit, leaving behind a very startled crowd of witnesses and two pissed off Wardens.
"Great job, Warden," Morrigan began to say, "now everybody knows you're Wardens."
"Now's not the time, Morrigan," Alistair warned her, seeing how angry his friend was and how close he was to losing his temper. The Witch just rolled her eyes but her snide remark stayed.
Hadrian mentally thanked Alistair for silencing the witch's sharp tongue. He slowed his breathing down and tried to calm himself. Focus on yourself, on the sounds around you. His quartermaster's voice breathed in his mind and quickly, his boiling temper was calmed.
-o0o-
The Sister watched with inquisitive eyes the young warrior meditating and trying to compose himself. She had never seen such grace, such skill of arms before. Not even she could possibly hope to win against this man, even with cheating. Who was he?
"Are you ok?" The question was said so softly, so quietly, that she thought that the taller Warden might have asked her instead of the Warden currently looking at her. His eyes had perused over her body but it wasn't in a leery, challenging way, unlike most men.
"Yes, I'm fine."
"You're not a Sister, are you? You took out some of those men as easily as if they were children."
"The Chantry accepts all people, as the Maker is wont to do."
"Oh no," the taller blonde warrior whispered to his companion, "we have got a real madhatter here."
"Perhaps I can help you look for Loghain," the Sister suggested and she hoped that this young man would accept her offer of help.
"Why? What can a Sister of the Chantry do for me?" This man wasn't easily fooled and he knew that she used to have some form of combat training. It would take years to get rid of rigid training and discipline one had to go through.
"I have many skills as an Assassin and a Bard," she replied truthfully. Sometimes it was best to just lay out all the cards on the table. However, the reaction she got was unexplainable.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as if he was restraining himself. Even his companions could see that there was something wrong here. He turned his back on her and said over his shoulder, "I don't need an Assassin's help. Go help the people here with your skills."
"Wait! But the Maker!"
"The Maker has abandoned me," came the harsh reply and all three were gone from the tavern, as swiftly and quietly as they had appeared.
There were hushed whispers going around her and even the bartenders were gossiping with their customers. Thankfully, she was careful enough to not give out her name but it was quite hard to forget a redhead Sister of the Chantry. She had better get her stuff ready and attempt to catch up with them before they leave Lothering. The Maker had told her Himself that she was to go with this man, no matter the consequences.
-o0o-
Doing minor quests were an excellent outlet for Hadrian's anger that had suddenly raged through him at the mention of the word Assassin. Assassin is what destroyed my family. He had stopped by a strange creature that was imprisoned in its cage and its foreign ideas of self-atonement piqued his curiosity enough so as to have him think about freeing the Qunari.
Alistair and Morrigan did not banter for once. Instead they just threw glares at each other, daring one another to break the silence. However, when it got done and dirty, so did they and despite hating each other, Hadrian couldn't help but admire how flawlessly all three worked together.
Alistair worked perfectly as a tank, for an enemy to focus on and dish out the majority of their attacks on him, thus leaving Morrigan ample opportunity to strike her enemies with ranged spells and spam the wardens with an occasional healing. To them though, they much prefer drinking that foul healing poultice than go under her healing spell.
With Alistair distracting the enemies and Morrigan attacking from afar, it left Hadrian room to go in with his two-handed weapon and his attacks proved most devastating, especially to the archers who were targeting Morrigan.
In no time at all, they had managed to clean the outskirts of Lothering off bandits and were just about do another sweep to ensure no stragglers were left behind, when a sharp cry rang out followed by guttural snarls and the clash of weapons.
Also, both Wardens could sense the ominous presence of darkspawn ahead of them and the group ran to the bridge, climbing up the stairs and came upon a scene of two dwarves fighting valiantly but uselessly against an Alpha Hurlock, which was about to finish them off.
"Morrigan, paralyze that one! Alistair take the centre!" Hadrian ordered but it was almost unnecessary for his two companions were in their places already. His anger was slowly being replaced by that of gratefulness at the sight of his two companions working together and by the time they completely dispatched their foes, it was gone for now.
The dwarf huffed and puffed in exhaustion even though the trio did most of the work. His hand wiped the sweat off his brow and he shakily stood up from his hunched over position. A smile broke out on the wide face and Hadrian couldn't help but smile back at the beaming face of the dwarf.
"Thank you, lad! I thought I was gone to see the Maker for a few seconds."
"How did you come by them in the first place?" Hadrian glanced over the dwarf and the one behind him. They looked awfully different from each other. While the one standing before him had a square face with brown eyes covered by a light brown bangs, the one behind him was a clear blonde, with hair cropped close to his scalp. Perhaps they were Master and apprentice. However, most dwarves were in Ozammar so why were these two here, with their broken wagon and crates?
"Me and me son were traveling here from Ozammar until those darkspawn showed up,"
"Oh, well." Hadrian took another glance at the worn-down wagon. "Do you need help?"
"No, no, no. You did a lot just by saving us! We can take it from here."
"Are you sure? What happens if you come across them again?"
"Well, I'm sure someone like you would come around and save us again."
There was no persuading the dwarf into accepting the offered help and so the foursome moved on only to bump into a familiar figure.
The anger that had only just been hidden away rose again at the sight of the Sister. She was in a non-threatening posture but who could tell with an Assassin.
"You again?" Hadrian growled and he almost unsheathed his light dagger but Alistair's suggestion of listening to Princess Stabbity stopped him. If anything else, Alistair could have someone else to talk to besides Morrigan. At least this Sister would listen to him and not chide him for his silly antics.
"Please," the Sister pleaded desperately. "I know you probably don't need my help, but I really want to go with you. The Maker Himself sent a sign to me of this."
"What of the people in the Chantry?" Hadrian couldn't believe how she could so easily abandon those were in truer need of help than him and his friends.
"Everybody has their path to follow. Please let me help you!"
She actually begged him to take her in and Hadrian finally gave in to his request. It was better to know a devil than to have one follow you around. She let out a relieved sigh, as if a great burden was lifted from her shoulders. I have a bad habit of picking up strays along the way...why is that? Are they attracted to my desperation, my want for revenge? Or is it something deeper? Hadrian looked to the skies but if he was trying to find answers in the white clouds hovering above him, they gave none.
-o0o-
The Sister's first usefulness was in supporting Hadrian in his bid for the Qunari's release into his custody. The Cousland warrior didn't particularly wish to impart the Revered Mother with a show of violence, despite his doubt in the Maker and his followers.
The Revered Mother, when they first visited her, was absolute in her decision of imprisoning the Qunari for life. Now though even she seemed unsure of whether she made the right decision in the face of Leliana pleading for Hadrian's case.
"Leliana? What a lovely name." Hadrian's suspicion about the redhead just cranked up a bit. If someone couldn't tell another person their name, then why in the Maker's Pit should that person trust him or her? The warrior tried to keep his tone neutral and waited for the Revered Mother to come to a decision.
"Revered Mother, please be assured that he is a good man and will know what to do with the Qunari."
The Revered Mother paused for a moment, her head bowed in deep thought while her hands tightly clasped with each other. Just when Hadrian thought of leaving her to her contemplation, she raised her head and stepped forward only to stop right in front of the Warden. She opened her hand, a key lying in her pale palm.
"Although I am well within my rights as the Revered Mother to mete out appropriate punishment, I also trust Leliana's word as a Sister of the Chantry. Perhaps the Maker sent you to help me be relieved of this particular burden."
Hadrian didn't know what to stay to that. A burden? She could have easily let one of her Templars execute the Qunari. That would have been a merciful act than to leave him in a cage, helpless to an incoming sword of a bandit or a darkspawn. However, Hadrian simply let her give him the key in which he closed his hand into a fist before politely bowing before the Revered Mother and leaving the room.
Despite being delayed, although it was a welcomed one, by the Hawkes followed by meeting this foreign redhead with an Orlesian accent, Hadrian had managed to get the majority of his quests done before the sun descended to the horizon.
He helped clean the area of bandits as well as looking for certain herbs to help a kind old lady, Miriam, craft some health poultices for those in need of them. A more memorable one that had stood for Hadrian in particular was meeting another little boy who had lost his mother in the wilderness. When the group found her half-eaten corpse that was currently being eaten by wolves, Hadrian had no choice but to put them down, especially when they attacked first. They had the beginnings of a Taint, but it wasn't so strong that it had corrupted them, unlike the creatures they encountered back in the Kacori Wilds.
The memory of the corpse reminded Hadrian of another dead body, one that he saw and inspected on their way to entering Lothering. He managed to extricate a letter from the deceased Templar, a letter which was still folded in his large pouch at his hip. It was addressed to someone named Ser Donall and he recalled hearing someone call out Ser Donall's name in the Chantry.
"What's wrong, Hadrian?" Alistair asked his friend. He could almost feel the gears whirring inside his friend's head. Hadrian looked up thoughtfully and he pulled out a letter, addressed to Ser Donall.
"Ser Donall?" The name sounded very familiar to Alistair and he scrunched his own eyes at trying to remember where he heard it from. Oh, he's a Knight of Redcliffe. I remember!
"You know him, Alistair?" Hadrian's eyebrows were raised slightly in disbelief. He didn't know that Alistair would know anybody outside the Wardens.
"Yeah and I think," Alistair scanned amongst the people in the Chantry. The first area had tall bookshelves containing a lot of what Alistair assumed to be books on the Maker and how the world came to be. There were quite a few Sisters hovering around the books but not one refugee lingered in that area. Somehow he wasn't surprised. As a child, he didn't like reading books, especially ones styled in a learning book: boring and dry. Nope, he's not there.
He then turned his gaze to the left and saw the Commander of the Templars stationed there. A nice man who thought otherwise of Loghain's statements against the Wardens and had given them access to a decent amount of weapons and some much needed health poultices. Morrigan grew furious at how he and Hadrian gave one big sigh at the sight of ten poultices.
After seeing the Commander and a few others, none that he recognized to be Ser Donall, he shifted his view to the immediate left for some reason and his eyes lit up in recognition of the man, whose head was bowed in reverence of a small statute that was placed in between two columns of lit candles. There was no mistaking that auburn hair and that weird looking jaw.
"I think he's over there," Alistair pointed out to the praying man and the group walked to him. They heard some muttered words and such. The man, feeling that someone was watching him, turned his head around and a smile broke out at the sight of the blonde man.
"Alistair! Is that you?" Ser Donall threw out his hand to Alistair, who grasped it within his as they shook hands in greeting. "What are you doing here? I thought you were taking your Templar final vows."
"Uhh, that didn't exactly work out," Alistair hastily said and his heart thumped a bit when Hadrian threw a quick cursory glance at him before politely mentioning that he had a letter for the Redcliffe Knight.
"A letter?" Ser Donall's eyes moved as he read the letter and the Knight's face fell. "Oh no. This isn't good. Ser Henric must be dead then if he left this unsealed."
"I'm sorry," Hadrian offered his condolences.
"Thanks. With this news though, I must go back to Redcliffe and report that the sacred Ashes is not here or anywhere within fifty leagues of this place."
"The sacred Ashes?" Both Alistair and Hadrian asked together. Morrigan's lips pursed and she frowned. She didn't like all this traveling around. All she wanted to was just to get the treaties met before marching on to defeat the Archdemon. Doing these stupid minor quests were going to get them nowhere!
She watched with ever increasing annoyance at the Knight of Redcliffe, who with his gestures of hand and a wide range of facial expressions, explained the situation back in Redcliffe. The news of Arl Eamon being poisoned seemed to be vitally upsetting to the stupidest member of the group as well as to Hadrian. She didn't care that he could be an important person to the duo; the inconvenience of one of the most powerful individuals being dispatched like that thought worried her. It would prove troublesome if Arl Eamon were to die and Thedas would ultimately plunge into another civil war if it hadn't already started with King Cailan's death.
Not too long after the initiation of their conversation, the Knight of Redcliffe saluted them with a fist to the heart and he left them to converse amongst themselves.
"I believe we probably should out to the circle first," Hadrian advised. "we could use another Mage."
"I will have you know that I am quite proficient, thank you," Morrigan spat back at Hadrian as she took offense to his suggestion. She was taught by Flemeth herself in the old ways of magic. How dare he think otherwise!
"I'm not doubting your capabilities, Morrigan," Hadrian reassured the scowling female witch. "it's a backup in case you're compromised."
"C-compromised? Explain."
"In case you die somehow. We're not exactly mages either if you haven't noticed."
"Yes, I've noticed, plenty of times when you lot just throw yourselves at the enemy without thinking!"
"Really? What do you think, Alistair?" Alistair just shrugged his shoulders. It was bad enough that Morrigan disliked him even in the best of her moods.
"Fine, have it your way, Wardens. Let's hope you are right in going to the accursed Circle of Magi first to procure an enslaved, groveling mage for you."
She turned on her heels sharply and before Hadrian could say something, she marched out of the local Chantry with a huff.
"Uh, I didn't mean to be offensive," Hadrian said, confused by the Witch's temperament.
"Oh, don't worry about it. She's just upset that there maybe somebody else doing magic instead of her. Of course, we could do a healer though. Ouch!"
Hadrian laughed at how Alistair pulled off a hurt wince when he rubbed his ribs. Ah yes, he remembered that point when Alistair was thrown back into a tree by one of the scouting parties for the Darkspawn. His collision with the tree proved so detrimental that half of his ribs were broken. However, Hadrian knew that Morrigan's healing spells hurt worse than most of the wounds the two warriors received. Her spells were horrible and it would often leave the patient even more groggy and in pain than initially.
"Yeah, you have a point there! She definitely does not have a healer's touch! Come on, let's get out of here before we lose the only healer we have now."
The two Wardens exited out of the Chantry and found the Witch waiting for them by the Qunari prisoner. She had her back turned to both them and the prisoner, watching the sinking sun with a dulled expression. She never acknowledged their presence, not even when Sten was let out and was thanking them very curtly for his release. The only time she said something was when the funny sounding redhead remarked on how noble the Qunari was.
"Such an exquisite sense of honor and duty!" Leliana was clearly admiring the newcomer with newfound admiration and curiosity.
"Yes, and dogs are treated better by them than the mages they leash."
"Honestly? I've always heard rumors about them but I can't scarcely believe them!"
If Sten had any opinions about two humans talking about his race, he did not express any. He merely walked amidst his new companions, his head still held high despite his deeply troubled mind on his lost sword, which no doubt would land in the hands of some mangy thief.