"Hey! No need to shove!"
Garrett couldn't argue with Bethany's irritated yelp, nor was he about to and pushed her again, making her move faster down the gangplank and off that Maker-forsaken ship. It wasn't as if he could logically say there was any danger. After two months on the ship the word of the sailor, that had turned out to be the first mate, had stayed true, the other sailors had looked, but they hadn't touched any of the women. Yet it had been two months...and Garrett was sick with worry of them breaking their word, so much that he couldn't stand another minute on the ship.
"Hey, that's no way to treat a lady!" One of the sailors shouted after them, triggering several barking laughs from the men that even now couldn't stop ogling Garrett's sister. "You need us to protect you, milady!"
Thank the Maker we're finally here. Clenching his teeth, Garrett forced himself to ignore the laughter of his former hosts and kept his gaze firmly on the stone dock ahead.
There Aveline, mother and Carver were already on the stone platform. The two women were visibly swaying for some reason while Carver took a long stride up the dock...only to almost fall over, the man seemingly drunk as he stumbled sideways, nearly plummeting over the edge as a hand moved up to rub his temple.
I told him to stay away from the sailors' rum, now I have to-
Garrett's line of thoughts were interrupted when he set foot on the dock, only to nearly fall straight into Aveline as his legs nearly gave in. "Whoa there!" The woman slammed a palm into his chest, pushing him straight as she grunted. "Easy, I've been at sea before, you have to get used to solid ground, give it a while."
Garrett, fascinated, looked down at his feet even as Carver grunted out an irritated. "Sure doesn't feel like solid ground..."
"Fascinating." Was Garrett's response. Looking down he could see the solid stone, also his feet upon it...but it didn't feel solid, it was as if it was gently swaying back and forth, trying to tip him off the docks. He had heard of sailors suffering from 'land-sickness'...but he had dismissed it as something Fereldens with with their usual distrust of the seas and all living on it, had thought up. Should have known better than to make such assumptions...still, this is a curious experience, is this due to us being accustomed to the moving of the ship...? "It's almost as if we got off the ground and are now standing on the ship again, like in Gwaren."
"Yeah, I'm really curious about it..." Carver grumbled, the man straightening, only to grimace as Maric with a relieved bark dropped down on the docks next to Garrett, the hound's head tracking left and right, awake and not showing a hint of disorientation. "Oh for, the dog's taunting us!"
Garrett arched an eyebrow and glanced down at the now sitting Maric, the hound looking at Carver with his head tilted to the side. "Or he's simply happy to be off the ship?" He looked back to Carver, noticing the distinct pout with a mental sigh. "Brother, it was a long trip and we're all tired, so please..." The man began rolling his eyes, making Garrett raise his voice. "...please be quiet."
It wasn't a request, and Carver dutifully closed his mouth.
One could say many things about the boy that was barely old enough to count as a man, grouchy and surly came to mind, but disobedient was not one of them. So despite the glare he shot Maric, Carver held his tongue, probably somewhere in the back of his mind aware that he was just lashing out as he usually did when he was tired.
Tired...
Garrett looked around the group. Though the scrapes and bruises had faded from their flight, they were still tired. Not physically perhaps, for though the food was bad on the ship and none of them was overly used to being out on the sea, they had still managed to create something of a routine to keep themselves occupied through the months. But mentally was a whole different matter...
Two months was a long time to sit around and worry, unsure of what to expect when you arrived. Garrett was in a way used to it, after all, he didn't go anywhere without a plan for every contingency...but even he had felt his nerves fraying under the wait, uncertainty holding his mind in a vice. Mother had assured Garrett that Gamlen would welcome them with open arms, and he was family...but Garrett had never met his uncle, nor did he know all the details of mother's parting from the rest of the Amell family. And if something went wrong...the two silvers in Garrett's coin-purse made for a few slim meals, if even that, considering prices in the Free Marches were supposedly higher than those in Ferelden.
And with nothing else to occupy them, not even the daily chores, the rest of the family had felt the gravity of this uncertainty as well. Carver had actually sat down with Garrett a few times, trying to come up with a plan when they had no solid information to go on. It had been an admirable, if frustrating for the both of them, attempt to agree on a course of action. Even Bethany had opened her mouth to speak a few times, but in the end chosen not to speak, not even trying to share some of the leadership...
Garrett wasn't sure what he had found the most frustrating.
But now they were here, now they could finally get over the worrying, now they could rest.
Rest...
Garrett's gaze moved upwards, and as it did, so did the others, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of Kirkwall for the first time.
That is...impressive.
This wasn't the regular Kirkwall harbour, but the smaller one they had been directed to that lead to a more fortified part of the city. Despite that, the harbour was spacious with a full three stone docks that easily rivalled Gwaren's capacity. Yet even though it sported an impressive capacity for ships, the harbour was nearly filled with docked ships, some no larger than a row-boat with a sail on, others galleons so large Garret couldn't help but wonder how they were supposed to turn and sail out of a harbour that lay in such a narrow inlet flanked by razor-sharp cliffs.
Though Garrett felt a sting of worry about the many ships, his attention was elsewhere though, more specifically on the city that from his angle seemed more like a fortress as he gazed upon it. The walls rose high above the docks, easily beating the height of the walls of the fortress in Gwaren, if not even Denerim's walls. They were clearly not just for show either, the battlements were rife with arrow-slits, and at points the battlement shot out past the wall, creating miniature towers from which one could shoot down at anyone at the base of the walls. Garrett could also not help but notice that the large number of guards at the top of the wall were Templars.
The gallows...
Garrett had spoken to many of the sailors, trying to gain information about Kirkwall, and despite being hard men of a tough profession, none of the sailors had sounded all too keen when the subject of the gallows came up. It wasn't surprising, the place had been one of hangings even after the Tevinters had been cast out of the city, and not all who had been brought to the gibbet had been rebellious slaves, whichever the government, it was always willing to be flexible when it came to pirates and other scum.
Which means the tower is the home of the Templars...and the prison of the mages. Though it was supposed to be a tower, it looked more like a keep, the massive building rising up towards the clouds, as if challenging the Maker himself. A dark monument of man's power, a prison as well as a garrison of an army that answered to no law but the Chantry's.
Garrett inched closer to Bethany, finding the woman cowering low before massive walls, her doe-eyes large as they stared in horror, barely noticing the supportive arm he put over her shoulder, his whisper low and calm. "They don't know, they cannot know. We've practised this, say nothing and I'll get you through this, we'll go in, get through and that will be the end of it, okay?"
She managed a shaky nod, looking up at him she offered a trembling smile, uncertain and frightened.
"Refugee?"
Blinking, Garrett looked away from his sister and over to a startled-looking Carver staring at a balding little man before him. "What?"
The balding man wore a blue robe that hid much of his small form, his hands were bare though, and spindly thin as one held onto a wooden board atop which a stack of papers had been fastened while the other held a worn-looking quill. The man didn't even look up from his papers as he once more spoke, voice tinged with the boredom of a man that had spoken the question many times. "Are you a refugee? Or are you here on other business?" His accent wasn't too far from the Ferelden one, if perhaps a little softer.
He was also flanked by two heavily armoured men, though they were not Templars. Their armour was duller, their pauldrons coloured yellow and their helmets concealing every feature but their eyes, eyes looking as bored as the voice of their charge sounded. Though they were undoubtedly there to protect the robed man, their casual stances and the way they ignored Carver's and Garrett's weapons told Garrett neither of them were expecting any trouble.
Stepping up to Carver's rescue, Garrett put a hand on his brother's shoulder and pulled him backwards as he faced the little clerk. "Refugees, yes, from Ferelden."
The man glanced up at Garrett, tiny grey eyes taking in the cracked suit of armour without a hint of interest before his gaze went back to the papers. "Name?"
Garrett glanced back at the others, finding Leandra straightening in pride. Aveline looked a little lost, but since the clerk didn't seem to distinguish her from the others, Garrett figured he might as well pull her along, Maker knew he didn't want them to be held up so close to all those Templars, or cause trouble with someone that knew their secret...
He looked back at the clerk, carefully studying his face as he replied. "Amell."
There was not the slightest twitch in the man's face as he scribbled the name down on the paper, making Garrett's heart sink in worry. "Very well, Amell." The man took a deep breath, his gaze not leaving the papers as he spoke. "By decree of the Viscount; this city has already accepted enough refugees. As such all refugees, if not fulfilling certain stipulations, will be either escorted out through the city gates or sent back onto their ship..." The man glanced over Garrett's shoulder. "I see that that ship has already sailed though, literally."
Looking back, Garrett found himself tensing in irritation at the sight of their ride slowly sailing away, the first mate sitting on the railing with a still visible grin on his face as he mockingly waved Garrett off. Though I suppose being sent out of the Free Marches is better than going back with those pirates... Sighing, Garrett turned back to the clerk. "What stipulations?"
"Oh great, I love bureaucracy..." Carver murmured at the back, but Garrett ignored him as he kept his eyes focused on the little man.
Sighing, the clerk spoke words he had probably said a thousand times before, his eyes glazed over as he stared into his papers. "If you have sufficient funds to maintain yourself until you can find a source of income, you may enter, this limit has been set to thirty sovereigns." That's...exceedingly high. Garrett held back a grimace. The limit's there to stop all but the wealthy from entering. "If you have contacts within the city able to vouch for your credibility, you may enter, these contacts must be at least five in numbers and be distinguished members of a viscount-approved guild, nobility or the Chantry." Or the influential... "Also, if you happen to have family willing and able to-"
"That's it!" Leandra exploded, the woman hurriedly stepping up next to Garrett, smile wide as she with shining eyes regarded the clerk. "We have family in the city! We're the Amells, nobility!"
The man didn't look impressed, the glance he shot her dutiful at best. "Good, then I won't have to escort you off right away and instead send you to the sergeant to prove this claim."
Becoming someone else's problem, you mean. Garrett cocked his head to the side. "Sergeant?"
The clerk finally looked up for more than one second, eyebrow raised. "Yes, the sergeant of the guard temporarily assigned to the gallows, this is just an initial questioning." The man shot a thumb back towards the walls, or more specifically, the open gates and the crowd of dirty-looking people that seemed to stand in a poor excuse of a line behind it. "Step to the end of the line until it's your turn, the sergeant will double-check your information and ask for validation of your claims to right of entrance. If you step out of the line you will lose your spot and be escorted out, if you fail to validate your claim you will also be escorted out." A deep breath, his voice droning on. "If you are admitted entrance you will be considered a temporary resident for your first year, if caught committing crimes within the walls within that year you will be exiled from the city, after that you will however count as a permanent citizen of Kirkwall. Welcome."
With those words the clerk, still looking utterly bored, turned around and began to walk away, his equally bored guards strolling after him as they pushed past the 'line' of refugees ahead. They're so many...this could take a while. Garrett sighed, and started walking towards the line, recognising Fereldian voices speaking in worried tones about their future.
Behind him Carver's groan was long and far too justified. "Looove bureaucracy..."
8
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8
"This waiting is ridiculous." Aveline's mutter awoke Garrett from his near slumber, making him look up at her, only to regret it as the blazing sun shone into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. "It's been three days."
The woman had become more and more agitated as of late. Just like Carver she wanted an end to the wait, only she couldn't distract herself by flirting with the various girls in the line of people that still slowly moved towards a by now tired-looking sergeant of the Kirkwall guard. Instead, she ended up walking back and forth in the little corner the family had been assigned as they waited for Gamlen, a Gamlen that apparently had better things to do than speak to them.
"Actually..." Garrett sat up with a yawn, hand moving down to scratch Maric behind the ear, the dozing dog paying it no heed. "...I think we're lucky to still be here, if the sergeant hadn't recognised the Amell name we would never have been allowed to wait here and would currently be out in the Free Marches with nothing but two silvers to rub together. Here we have been given furs to sleep in and food as long as we wait...it's not ideal, but it's better than nothing."
At his own words, he glanced over at Leandra. The woman was sitting in the very corner of the gallows courtyard, hugging her knees and staring at the gate leading to the rest of the city, as she had been doing for most of the three days, her gaze filled with disbelief and confusion. Ever since the sergeant had scoffed at her words of nobility, saying the only Amell he knew of was nearly a beggar, she had been quiet as a dormouse, unwilling to speak even as she got tenser and tenser with worry.
"And it'll get better when we're allowed in." Bethany added to Garrett's words, the woman managing a pale smile as she reached out to her mother, dropping a hand on her shoulder and affectionately letting it slide down along Leandra's arm.
Bethany was better now. The first day she had been an utter wreck, flinching at every Templar in sight and crawling into the shadow of the walls around them as if it would somehow protect her. By now, however, she had gotten used to their constant presence, the fact that they completely ignored what was going on in the courtyard probably helped too.
The courtyard was actually a curious sight when you thought about it. Within it the guardsmen were going through the thankless work of processing what seemed to be an endless line of refugees. The people were herded forth one family at a time, their request to enter considered by the sergeant, and then they were either allowed into the city or escorted away to what Garrett assumed was an exit. Those that were sent away were of two types, either they protested loudly, kicking and screaming...or they didn't utter a word, dejectedly complying with being thrown out, either way the result was the same.
For the last few days the number being allowed inside had steadily diminished as the demands of those entering got more and more stringent. Garrett for one had made sure to get the sergeant's word on that his own family would be considered by the demands given when they had entered the gallows...just to be safe.
But while the guardsmen of the city were doing this, it was blatantly obvious that they were only allowed to do so at the Templars' leisure. Garrett didn't know about the rest of the city, but in the gallows the walls were patrolled by Templars, and from the gates to their keep there were constantly Templars coming and going in various errands. At times there were even whole company-sized contingents of Templars marching out in perfect sync, making the weary guardsmen doing the paperwork next to them look like children in comparison.
Maybe that guardsman I overheard about who the real power in Kirkwall was wasn't overreacting...
"Gamlen?"
Garrett blinked at the name, looking over at Leandra, only to find his mother sliding to her feet, eyes wide as she stared towards the gate leading to the city itself. Following her gaze, Garrett's gaze fell upon a man coming down the stairs, his heart sinking at the sight. The man's clothing was simple, a roughly spun tunic and trousers along with shoes that had seen better days, he didn't look all that clean either.
The sergeant was right about the Amell's then. Garrett's thought was glum, he had considered the possibility of that, of them not having any rank or money to protect themselves or even allow them entrance into the city, he had considered it and the options they then had.
They were precious few.
Garrett wasn't about to give in yet though, and besides, he was standing before a member of the family, he owed the man his loyalty and affection.
Gamlen's face didn't look like one used to affection though, it was worn with lines, something tired in his blue eyes, making them duller than his sister's. Like her he was short of stature, and like her his hair had greyed with age, his face was somewhat broad, but gaunt, ruining the family similarity to Garrett. Though he too sported stubble from a forgetfulness of shaving, grey as it may be.
Coming down onto the courtyard, the man was looking at his sister with something odd in his eyes. Annoyance? Weariness? Garrett couldn't make sense of it.
Leandra's reaction was far easier to read. "Gamlen!" Calling out the name she rushed forth with surprising speed, arms wrapping themselves around her brother's neck as she crashed into him. "Thank the Maker you're here!"
Grunting, the man took a stumbling step back, hands gingerly gripping his sister's sides, obviously unsure whether to hold her or to push her away. His face spoke of awkwardness, as did the somewhat rough voice. "Leandra...it's been a long time."
"This ought to be good..." Carver mumbled, startling Garrett as he found the man standing next to him, his brother apparently done 'comforting' the latest girl in the line of refuges.
Neither mother nor uncle seemed to notice though as the older man slowly pushed his sister back, biting his lower lip as he looked at her face before he spoke. "What are you doing here? I figured you...you know...were Fereldian for life."
"The blight...it..." Leandra pressed out the words, looking away even as her hands remained on Gamlen's chest, not quite willing to let him go. "...the Darkspawn burned everything, I...if it weren't for the children we'd be dead...we have nowhere to go."
Garrett's uncle visibly stiffened, then dramatically rolled his head back with a sigh. "Oh for...don't come and drop this on me, I have enough trouble as it is."
"We are family." Garrett spoke up, punctuating the word by taking a step closer to the reunion.
"Oh...you're a big one." Gamlen replied as he looked up at Garrett, then over to the other two siblings. "All of you...I suppose that's Malcolm's blood, huh?" He hesitated. "In Leandra's letters...well I'm going to assume you're Garrett?" Garrett nodded. "Which would make you two Carver and Bethany, huh? Well at least you look like a tough bunch..." There was a hint of interest there, making Garrett blink in confusion.
"Yes, sir, a pleasure to finally meet another member of the family." Garrett smiled and offered a bow of his head, set on ignoring his wary instincts and reminding himself that one did not regard family-members with suspicion among the Hawke's, for they were all you had.
"And this?" Gamlen glanced over at Aveline, the woman having stayed in the background so far.
Now she stepped forward, straightening. "Aveline Vallen, I escaped with your family, wouldn't have made it out without them."
"Nor we without you." Garrett pointed out with a nod, making her nod back. Respect where respect is due...
"Yes, yes, I'm sure it was very dramatic." Gamlen snorted impatiently, making Garrett look back to him with a hint of surprise; there was something in the man's gaze when he regarded the woman that told him Gamlen wasn't simply disregarding her though... "Now, I don't mean to be rude, but what exactly do you expect of me here?"
"Well...help, of course." Leandra replied, taken aback. "We need sanctuary and with all mother and father left behind I figured..."
"Yeah...about that..." Gamlen took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "...our fortune is kind of...gone." Garrett heard Bethany gasp and Leandra grew visibly paler, but he himself now eyed his uncle carefully as the man continued in the same awkward tone. "I was meaning to write you, but you know...things happen and I figured it wouldn't...affect you."
"W-what?" Leandra stuttered, her eyes wide. "B-but the Amell's...nobility...rich...how could all of it be gone...?"
"Well it didn't help that I suddenly had to take care of the entire estate myself." Gamlen snarled, eyes narrowing accusingly at her. "Or that the beneficial marriage to the Comte de Launcet was cancelled, leaving business with them dry."
Garrett suddenly found himself stepping closer, a supportive hand dropping onto the shoulder of his wide-eyed mother as he kept his eyes on his uncle, his tone reasonable. "Surely that would not be enough to ruin a fortune enough to make a family nobility?"
Gamlen blinked, looking up at Garrett with a flash of annoyance in his eyes. Then he shrugged and sighed. "Perhaps not, but it didn't exactly help." Looking back to Leandra his tone shifted to something warmer. "I have a nice place in Lowtown though, it's not all bad..."
Leandra just stared at him, aghast.
Clearing his throat, Garrett spoke. "While I'm happy for you, uncle, I don't think a family member living in Lowtown is enough to make them let us in..."
"There's other ways to get in but through the sergeant, boy." Gamlen replied. And for the first time since he'd met them, he smiled. "It didn't take me three days to come to you for nothing..."
Aveline visibly stiffened at that, but Garrett ignored it as he inched closer. "Go on..."
"Well I spoke to my contacts..." Garrett arched an eyebrow, his uncle didn't look like someone that had contacts. "...and I've found two who are willing to help the family in...and I'm sure they'd welcome a capable woman like...what did you say your name was?" Gamlen looked over to Aveline, gaze moving to the sword at her side, then her muscled arms. I don't like where this is going...
Clearly Aveline didn't either, crossing said arms over her chest she growled. "Aveline, and who are these contacts?"
Gamlen hesitated at her disapproving tone, but then turned back to Garrett as he spoke. "It's really the only way, I don't have the gold to get you in, and the Amell name will certainly not get you in...but these people...they can easily get it done."
"For a price, I assume?" Garrett neutrally replied, mind working. He's right, if he lives in Lowtown he doesn't have the money nor standing to get us in. We could try another city, but with the war in Ferelden they'll be brimming with refugees as well. If we go far north...no that's too far, and mother is not as spry as she used to be, we can't go back to living on the road as we once did. Why would these people be willing to help though...?
"Of course, they're not a charity exactly." Gamlen responded with an amused snort. "But they know a deal that benefits both parties when they see it. Individuals able to fight and escape Darkspawn, capable people, are few in supply, mages even more so..." His gaze drifted to Bethany...and then widened as Garrett stepped close to him, his armoured chest nearly bumping into the man's face as he looked down at him.
"You told them of Bethany...?" Garrett's voice was a hiss, torn between loyalty the family in general and the one he had spent his entire life protecting. He's family, don't hurt him, he's family, don't hurt him...
Gamlen took a long step backwards, visibly swallowing. "Calm down, these people have no reason to turn her in, in fact they view mages free from the Circle as quite an asset...I wouldn't have managed to cut this deal without telling them of her."
"How wonderful, my 'gift' finally does something positive for us..." Bethany murmured, drawing a chuckle out of Carver.
Garrett forced himself to ignore the two though as he kept his attention fixed on Gamlen. "I will have to trust you on this uncle, but I must say that this worries me, a lot." Grimacing, he forced himself back on topic. "So who are these contacts then?"
"Yes, please, enlighten us." Aveline added, still frowning.
"They're not the worst bunch out there, but not a nice one either." Gamlen admitted. "Meeran runs a mercenary group called the Red Irons...they don't go back on any deals, so they're at least honest, if one can call hired killers that." He shrugged. "Then there's the elf Athenril, her business is expanding and they're looking for recruits...they're not honest, but what can one expect of smugglers and thieves? But at least both groups protect their own."
"Great, I'm in awe of the options." Aveline growled, clearly angry.
Garrett ignored her though, forcing himself to stay calm and rational as he spoke. "If getting us in is expensive I'm assuming the price will be too..."
"Yeah...both wish you to work off the debt...erm..." Gamlen hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "...for a year."
"A year!" Leandra suddenly exploded. "My children are supposed to be nobility and now you want to turn them into slaves for a year!"
"Well there's not many other options, now is there!" Gamlen snarled back. "You'll get a roof over your head, a warm meal now and again and at least they'll have work."
"Work they're not getting paid for!" Leandra replied, just as angry.
Garrett swiftly stepped between them, sighing. "There's not much in the way of options here, mother, we can argue later, okay?" Leandra deflated, something akin to a sniff escaping her as she looked away, the air around her thick with defeat and disappointment. However much it pained him, Garrett forced himself to turn away from her and instead focus on his uncle. "If you can make this happen, I see little choice, we will work for Athenril."
"I will make the arrangements." Gamlen responded, once more smiling as something in his eyes glittered. He offered his hand though, making Garrett give it a dutiful shake.
Then, as he turned to walk away, to get them into the city, Aveline gave voice to her disapproval once more. "We're going to be thieves now? This is despicable."
"It was either that or murderers." Garrett pointed out, giving her a weary look as he finally allowed himself to walk up to his mother and wrap his arms around her shaking form.
The woman didn't reply with anything but a sigh and a nod.
Bethany shrugged, the girl looking weary as she muttered. "At least it'll be safer than with the mercenaries..."
8
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8
Thanks to Abydos Jackson for putting up with me.