Garrett was tired to his very bones.
The battle with the Qunari had weakened him, the duel with the Arishok nearly killed him. Yet afterwards there had been no end to his duties, each moment more turning his body heavier and heavier for him, making him ache for rest.
So he had passed through the night, marching from one end of the city to another, giving out orders, arguing, finding solutions, ceaselessly on the move, endlessly trying to bring the city to order.
And still, it had not been enough.
Riots and murders were still rife through the city, though most were now occurring in Darktown.
The fires were still raging through the city, the only reason for them diminishing being that they had already burnt so much of the city as all efforts to contain them otherwise had failed.
The city was still paralysed by terror and disorder, though now mixed with grief and horror as the extent of the damage became plain to all.
So much to do...
Yet now he'd found himself summoned to the Viscount's Keep, dragged away from his job in trying to slow a fire by hacking down an entire city-block, by Meredith and her unhelpful templars. Thirty thousand men and women not doing anything to help, only adding to the chaos by chasing mages down the streets...
Still, Garrett had heeded the call, knowing the importance of every moment now that the Viscount was dead. While Meredith was a danger in the matter, Garrett felt confident of the future.
He was still wearing his armour, dented and broken beyond repair. He could have changed into a replacement, but chose not to, thinking the damaged suit he now wore best for all to see...especially the other nobles.
Not that it was needed. Behind him, a crimson red cloak, clasped onto him by a noble crying with relief, to the cheers of all the rest, billowed after him like a banner of blood, signalling his new title for all to see. Champion...it comes with no duties nor privileges, yet at the same time, means everything...respect, fear, submission. Raising his chin high, Garrett managed to make his weary legs widen their strides.
To his right, an equally weary – and showing it in her pale face and dark eyes – Aveline shot him a glance. "Don't look so smug, or I'll push you over and see how good you are at getting up in full armour in your current state..." To Garrett's left, Maric gave voice to an amused woof at the idea.
"I have every right to be pleased, you two." Garrett shot each a look in turn, then shrugged, holding back the wince as one of the more pronounced bruises on his shoulder rubbed against a broken piece of armour. "The nobles were saved, Kirkwall is safe from further Qunari aggression and I carry a new title that'll surely make me Viscount. Calamity has turned to victory."
"To a price of thousands of dead." Aveline grunted, shaking her head in disapproval.
"Indeed, not to mention hundreds of thousand homeless and all manner of issues...I'm not blind, Aveline, I've been with you all night, you know." Garrett nodded, face grim. "We have a lot of work before us to mend the wounds after this, and I'm sorry about all the devastation, but that doesn't mean I can't be pleased about my own situation."
"Well you're not Viscount yet, and I'd be careful about expecting it handed over on a silver-platter..." Shooting Aveline a curious look, Garrett found the woman nodding forward, making him look...and cringe at the sight.
Ahead, the rubble that had been the entrance to the Viscount's Keep had been cleared away, men with brooms still sweeping away the dust and clutter on the steps. At the top of the stairs, at the gaping hole that was the Keep's current entrance, six templars in full armour and carrying spears stood guard. Damn, knew all the city guardsmen are out trying to bring order to the city, but Aveline really shouldn't have left the keep in Meredith's hands. Further in, he could already see more templars, spotless armour shining in the light as they stood guard over the stillness inside. Where're all the scribes and administrators?
Garrett, suddenly a sick feeling in his stomach, managed to widen his steps further, worry worming itself into his gut as he looked left and right, finding faceless templar-helmets staring back at him wherever he looked as he entered the keep.
"Captain, Champion." Garrett frowned at the templar addressing them, the man not even taking off his helmet for them even as he addressed them in the wrong order. Ignorant man... "The Knight-Commander can be found in the throne room with all the other nobles, you're late."
"We've been busy, Templar." Garrett snapped back even as Aveline snorted. Together, they brushed past the faceless man without looking back, ignoring the many templar sentries staring at them. "I'm sure you'll know how that feels like, one day." Next to him, a still soot-stained Maric growled in agreement. Damn right, how many have you carried out of burning buildings this night, saving their lives? More than that sod...
Onwards, the three marched in silence after that, always heading forward, not stopping for anything.
Around them, men and women were clearing away debris and other signs of fighting, though each stopped whenever Garrett approached, bowing their heads in respect.
More numerous were the templars, silent sentries standing guard wherever Garrett looked.
None of them bowed their heads.
Then, they passed through the last set of doors barring their passage, revealing the hall where Garrett's troops had poured in and slaughtered the Qunari defenders, the gate that had been shattered by Anders and Merrill's spells and whose debris was now nowhere to be seen.
Also, it revealed a gathering much like the one Garrett had faced only a few hours before.
On the right, the nobles now stood, rather than knelt, their hands unbound, their clothing clean...yet all still looking roughed up and afraid, like captives. All around them, silent templars in full armour stood, hands on the hilts of their sheathed swords, statues as unflinching as the Qunari, yet at the same time, more dangerous, more unpredictable. Further up the steps, Knight-Captains Cullen and Carver stood. One looked unsure, the other was glaring down at him with a heat that made Garrett stumble. I know you don't like me, but...Maker...
Yet, none of that seemed to matter as Garrett looked past them, to Meredith atop the dais...and the white mark where the Viscount's throne had once stood.
He came to a stop, head held high, anger already swelling in his chest. "What is the meaning of this!?"
"Champion." Meredith bowed her head in respect, tone cool. "I have called you, and all the nobles here assembled, to announce that in the wake of-"
"Where is the Viscount's throne?" Garrett snarled, taking an angry step forward, eyes aglow with rage. "How dare you remove it?! It's not within your authority to do so!"
"It's within my authority to do all that's necessary to protect the world from the corruption of magic and its users." Meredith snapped back. "Don't interrupt me again. Now, as I-"
"You cannot and will not order me about, Meredith." Garrett growled, not about to be intimidated. To his right, he felt several of the nobles shirk back in fright even as they stared at him in something akin to fascination. "I'm a Champion of Kirkwall, I'm a noble of Kirkwall, I'm citizen of Kirkwall, not one of your templars!" He shook his head, vision swimming with exhaustion from his furious words as the exhaustion from the many hours of work nearly became too much. He kept his voice strong though, despite it feeling raw already. "I only heeded your summon as a matter of courtesy, as, I'm sure, did all the rest here. You do not order us about, especially not here, at the heart of secular power in Kirkwall...or have you forgotten who we answer to?"
"To the Viscount, who's now dead...or so you think you do." Meredith snorted, then looked over at the nobles, raising her voice. "For in the end, we all answer to only one power, and that is the Maker!" She looked back to Garrett, expression cold. "And by that authority, I speak, and you listen, no matter who you are."
Garrett opened his mouth to answer, but Aveline was quicker. "Forgive him, Knight-Commander, he's had a long day. That said, he is correct, he does not have to listen to you, nor does he answer to you." She paused, sighing. "Neither do I."
"You've already made that abundantly clear." Meredith scowled at Aveline, then shot Garrett a glare for good measure, one he returned in kind. "However, if I'm allowed to finish, we can all go about our business so much quicker...agreed?"
Silence.
Then Garrett, reluctantly, looking left and right at the many templars, then at the frightened-looking nobles, nodded, body tensing again and again as he felt his goal slipping out of his grasp.
Below Meredith, Carver smirked.
"Good." Meredith straightened, smile polite. "As I was saying, in light of the exposure of so many apostates, maleficar and demon-worshippers in the city of Kirkwall, I've decided to invoke marshal law."
Across the room, people gasped at the words.
Aveline, shouted out a curse and a protest.
Garrett remained silent though, gaze fixed on Meredith, watching her every move as she ignored him and spoke to the crowd. "None will be allowed outside by nine in the evening. Anyone caught will be assumed to be trying and escape justice and will be tried accordingly. Further, the templars will now assume the role of patrolling the city walls, docks and gates, anyone wishing to enter or leave must be checked by these templars for signs of the corruption that is magic."
Charles Reinhart shouted a protest.
Aveline was shaking her head.
Garrett clenched his fists in silence even as Maric gave voice to a low growl.
"Further, given the ease with which the former Viscount was killed and his nobles captured, and considering the danger of the corruption of all these hidden apostates affecting them, elections for a new Viscount is postponed until further notice!" Meredith looked over to Garrett, coolly meeting his furious gaze."So is my word, and so is the will of the Maker."
"So is the will of the Maker." Every templar in the chamber chanted as one, silencing all protests throughout the room.
All but one. "You now claim to speak for the Maker?"
"I interpret his will through his texts and the situation at hand." Meredith scowled at Garrett, who glared back.
"And you invoke marshal law? Postpone elections? The former is only for a Viscount to decide, the later only for the council of nobles."
"Nobles potentially corrupted are not fit to make such decisions." Meredith snapped back. "Until I'm satisfied that no demon-worshipper will come to rule the city, no noble can be elected Viscount." She offered a small, yet honest, smile. "This is for your own protection."
So speaks every tyrant. Garrett grit his teeth even as Aveline spoke up. "This is too much, Knight-Commander, the Divine would not sanction such a thing, and when other nations hear of this seizure of power, the Templar order will find themselves unwelcome everywhere."
"I must agree." Charles Reinhart spoke up, shaking his head. "This is a city of commerce, not mage-hunting, if you go ahead with these plans to check everyone entering the city you'll cripple her even before taking into account what a lack of a Viscount will do to public order and international relationships."
Meredith only smiled at the man though, voice soft. "Do you think commerce more important than the will of the Maker?" The man grimaced and looked away. "I didn't think so."
Garrett couldn't keep the question from bubbling out of him. "And what of the treasury?"
Meredith, grimacing as she remembered their previous arguments about her debts, shot him a look. "It'll be protected by the templars, allowing none potentially being corrupted by apostates to use it for some insidious plan."
And what of corruption of a more regular sort? That of a Knight-Commander needing money for her plans? It was laughable, but Garrett didn't laugh, nor scoff, only narrow his eyes as all around, men and women exchanged worried looks. "So you appropriate the Viscount treasury, refuse elections to be held until whenever you deem it fit. Will you then use this money to repair the city? To fix the-"
"That is not the duty of a templar." Meredith scoffed, looking away.
"But to take-" Garrett went silent, finding Aveline's hand on his arm, the woman's gaze warning him. Beyond her, many templars looked tense, the nobles frightened. "I...see." Garrett took a deep breath, then another. Before him, Carver's wide smirk as he looked down on him made Garrett's body shake with fury. Next to him, Cullen's constantly apologetic look made his insides knot with rage. And beyond them both, Meredith's cool confidence in the validity of her actions made Garrett boil, wanting to do nothing but to rip her limb from limb. "As you command, Knight-Commander, so shall it be."
Garrett bowed, feeling cold rage grow larger and large within him.
His voice was but a whisper, yet carried through the room. "For now."
With that, he whirled about and marched out of the chamber, whispers of shock following him as he felt multiple gazes bore into his back like daggers. He didn't care, he marched on, cloak billowing behind him, Guard-Captain and Mabari flanking him in foreboding silence as he glared into the distant future.
This isn't over, I will be Viscount.
8
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Merrill frowned in worry as she hugged her knees through the duvet, the soft bed underneath her for once not dragging her to sleep within an instant of getting into it.
The reason stood a few feet away, leaning on the frame of the open window to their chamber as he gazed out across the city.
"Come to bed, ma sa'lath."
The endearment came easily from her, which still shocked Merrill. Everything about her and Garrett was still so new to her, so frightening, so exciting, so confusing. She now slept in a palace, tended to by servants, loving a human, a noble of a city of stone and steel. It was as far away from her existence as Dalish as one could get, yet she couldn't regret any of it. She still had her place in the Alienage, but she only went there to work on the mirror, a thankless and frustrating job she only kept at due to the spirit Dhavine's assurance that she could indeed fix it. And even that work was now only at the back of her mind as the new world she was in, the new relationship, seemingly consumed her every waking hour.
She'd only been with him for a few months, yet it felt like the mere blink of an eye, a moment of great change and upheaval that left her breathless just thinking about it. I love a human, I live with him, I'm...happy.
Of course, at the moment, she was mostly worried. "You need to sleep."
"I...can't." The man grunted, refusing to turn around. He still wore his horribly damaged armour, his blood still staining it, the armour doing nothing to protect him now, only weighing him down. Adding to the weight, the red cloak fastened to his shoulders, too large for any man, was draped across his back, seemingly trying to drag him to the floor like some hungry animal. "There's too much to do."
"From...the window?" Merrill asked, offering a pale and unsure smile as she let go of her legs. "There's only so much you can do, love, come to bed...I know you're mad about Meredith-"
"Don't mention her, not in here." Garrett snapped, still not turning even as Merrill shirked away, a little frightened by the man's depression. "And I can't do much about that, now...but...just look outside..." Merrill grimaced, knowing fully well what he was referring to. "There's still riots in Darktown..."
"Yet Aveline still sleeps." Merrill softly replied, slipping out of the sheets, shivering in her thin nightgown as the fuzzy carpet welcomed her feet. "While Donnic takes care of it with the guardsmen and some of your own, you don't need to be there."
"That fire..." Garrett grunted, as if he hadn't heard her. "...still it goes on..." he nodded towards an orange glow in the distance. "...we can only guess the number of homeless people now...and yet that fire goes on."
"It's dying, no place to go..." Merrill replied, sighing as she stepped closer to the man's back. "...and your friends are all safe. All greater nobles are at their summer-houses as their servants rebuild, and all the homeless minor nobles are welcome in our home...they'll owe you a great debt, I thought you'd like that."
"And what of the rest? We have maybe two hundred thousand people out there without homes...and when the winter-rains come..." The man sighed. "They'll die, if they're lucky."
Then Merrill reached him, hands softly sliding over the man's cloak-covered back as she grimaced in horror at such terrifying numbers. I'll be strong though, he needs it... "There's two months until then, they can be saved...but not tonight, okay? You can't do more tonight."
The man, still not turning, let his head drop low with a grunt. "Meredith has the treasury, the city won't be rebuilt by anything but donations. She's dissolved all administration, I...everything is afloat, nothing will work without redoing it all from scratch, and without public taxes to drive it..."
"Money isn't everything." Merrill cooed, fingers finding the clasps to Garrett's cloak. "You have many friends, many of the city, all willing to help out...tomorrow." With a soft rustle, the cloak fell off the man's back and formed a little pile on the floor.
"And what happens when that willingness falters? When the double taxation of needs for us and the demands of the templars drive people into ruin? What about when trade stops coming in due to the draconian laws imposed on all who visits? What when-"
Merrill silenced the man by pressing into his back, a finger finding his lips and stopping them from moving, her other hand moving over the broken armour, finding clasps and buttons. "Hush... I said...mahvir, think about it then, when you've rested."
"I can't rest..." Garrett groaned...and a piece of loose armour clattered as it fell to the floor, followed by his breastplate as Merrill found the last clasp. "...I must-"
Merrill gasped in horror.
The man's back was a dark blue where the sword had entered his chest, the Arishok's blade having punched out the back, and despite Anders' healing, the wound looked ready to burst at any moment. "Merrill, it's nothing..."
Ignoring the man, Merrill found her eyes prickling with tears as her hands made him turn to face him, to look at her as she pulled a gauntlet off his hand, finding the skin there marred by two scars where the metal had bent inwards from some blow. "Y-you...by Mythal..." She tore the loose armour along his arm off all too easily, the pieces crumpling revealing bruised and bloodied skin, the cuts along it not yet fully healed despite all of Anders' work.
"You don't have to..."
Horrified, Merrill tore at the armour on his other arm, wrenching it off and revealing a horrible bruising along his left shoulder and elbow, the arm seemingly hanging limp now that Merrill had torn the armour holding it together off. Tracing her fingers over the injuries, hearing Garrett wince in pain, she couldn't help but stare at the massive scar in his chest, the mark of the blade that had nearly taken the man from her...and felt her cheeks turn wet with tears.
"I'm really fi-" A hand reached for her hair, but Merrill slapped it aside as she crouched, pulling at his dented greaves, loosening them and tossing them aside, then moving for his boots, making more and more pieces fall to the floor. All along his body, bruises and cuts were revealed, a maze of destruction and pain, worst of all being a massive bruise across the man's left knee, large enough to make the woman wonder how the human could even stand on it.
"You're not fine." Merrill looked up at Garrett, blinking the tears away as best she could. "H-he nearly killed you...b-because of...b-because I..."
"D-don't..." Garrett shook his head, the now naked man shivering as he reached down, running a hand through her hair with a soft look on his face. "...it was my decision."
"My fault. You made it, my fault..." Merrill shook her head, looking across the many injuries in horror. "...I...I'm such an idiot, I...I don't...I shouldn't be near you, all I get near, a-all I..." A finger appeared on her lips, silencing her as she had him.
Garrett was smiling at her. "And I love you, idiot."
"Ma Vhenan..." Merrill swallowed, her legs turning to rubber even as she somehow managed to rise to her feet. "...come here..." She pulled him, as gently as she could, into bed, then, hesitating...she moved to join him, her hands sliding over his warm chest. "I love you."
The man's voice was a low rumble, tired, yet he was holding her, wanting. "And I you."
Silently, without word, Merrill slid atop him, her nightshirt rustling as she tossed it aside and straddled him.
Garrett, too tired to move, looked up at her with soft eyes, making her smile back.
A little gasp...and then she was moving against him, softly, gently, slowly.
Around them, darkness descended as the great fire outside slowly died out.
Whimpering, Merrill closed her eyes and leant forward, pressing her face into Garrett's chest as she shuddered against him, mind spinning with each little movement of her hips.
For an eternity, she moved.
Then she stopped, the stars suddenly dancing before her vision appearing so suddenly she could do nothing but gasp in surprise as tingles ran down her every nerve.
She continued to move...and a moment later Garrett sighed, his warmth filling her up.
Silence.
Then a whisper.
"Marry me."
And a reply.
"Yes."
8
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Thank you to Abydos Jackson for all the days and the words.