"Forgive me, mother, for I have sinned."
First Enchanter Orsino was a finely-chiseled elf with a lanky stature that made him look tall and regal for one of his kind, not to mention handsome, despite his age. The amused smirk on his lips looked good on him, though so did most looks, since he was a man who knew how to carry himself well.
None of that made Anders particularly care for him, as if him being a puppet of the Chantry wasn't enough of a reason to dislike him.
"This is not a game. Do you realise how much I risk, meeting you here?" Anders shook his head, sitting down heavily in the chair where a sister of the Chantry should be seated at the very moment, surrounded by a spartan selection of paintings depicting the struggles of Andraste. "If your templar guards waiting outside took but a peek inside, they'd kill me on the spot."
"Forgive me." Orsino ducked his head, smirk fading, revealing a less confident look. "I'm not used to this...cloak and dagger thing, it makes me nervous." As it did me, once, but our cause is too great to be held back by such trivial problems. Before him, Orsino was moving into the room, looking left and right with a curious look on his face. "Where's the sister I was supposed to meet anyway? And how did you get in here?"
Anders smiled coldly at that. "We have more supporters and sympathisers than the templars like to think, First Enchanter, just because someone in the open looks happy about her brother being sent to the Circle, doesn't mean she is..." The smile turned into a grin. "As for getting in here...I've had a guided tour before." Thank you, Garrett, these hidden tunnels are making my work so much easier...
"Good." Orsino managed a smile, though it turned into something closer to a cringe as he watched Anders' scarred and grinning face. Get used to it, you'll see me many more times, First Enchanter. Wiping his palms on his robe, the man stepped closer and sat down...after having pulled the chair two feet further back. Scary, am I? Anders smirked at the First Enchanter. Good. "It's an honour to meet you, the Circle might be closely watched by the templars, but whispers about you are all around anyway, many of our youngest idolise you."
"I'd like to think they idolise the struggle I represent." Anders grunted back, shrugging. "Of justice and equality, of freedom...of what we deserve."
Orsino arched an eyebrow, looking unimpressed and even a little insulted. "I've already read your pamphlet, and I'm here, aren't I? No need to repeat your slogans."
"Slogans?" Anders repeated, narrowing his eyes. "I mean every word, Orsino, every fibre of my being is devoted to this cause." Beyond mortal drive and keen, beyond existence. Before him, Orsino looked uncomfortable. "The cause that is freedom for you and every mage in Thedas, that is my calling."
Silence.
Orsino hesitating.
Then, surprisingly, smiling. "Well...good, that's just what I want, what I need." It was a smile that was all too clever for its own good though, one Anders had seen on many man in Darktown, the smile of someone planning to exploit the 'idealistic mage'. Ideals doesn't make me a fool though, so yes, let's hear how you plan to use me... "For we, all of us, dearly need your help." Orsino shifted where he sat. "It's...hard to describe; things weren't always so bad, but since Meredith became Knight-Commander..."
Ah, the 'it's not so bad for me so I don't care about the misery for others until it affects me'. "She turned your prison into less of a gilded cage and more of the cell it truly is?"
Orsino winced, but didn't respond to the baiting. "Well, yes...harsher rules come and go, every Circle mage knows that, but Meredith has been particularly hard. Freedoms many took for granted were suddenly in question, templar numbers growing exponentially, even their attitude towards us changing..." The elf shook his head with a sigh. "Then add the capturing of many apostates and the way they now treat us all like them..." Them? Your own kin, First Enchanter, or is a mage outside the Circle not worth as much!? Anders kept his face carefully blank, his insides burning, Justice roaring for punishment. Not yet, Justice, not yet. "...and things have turned damn near abysmal for us. We're not living in the tower any more, we're existing, hoping to do so without punishment, even."
"This isn't an isolated event, Orsino. As with any tyranny, the subjects suffer at the whim of whoever is in control at the moment." Anders grunted with a shrug. "There's no denying that some commanders are more lenient than others, but they're in the minority, most are bigoted bullies thinking of mages more like property or prisoners than people." Before him, Orsino was twisting in his seat, uncomfortable with such a blatant accusation. "Yet, however lenient they are, that doesn't change the fact that their 'wards' live, die and become tranquil at the whim of this all-powerful person holding your very life in the palm of their hand." Anders shook his head with a snort. "Even a King answers to his subjects more than a Templar Commander does to his mages."
"True..." Orsino was still twisting in his chair, as if criticism of the templars upset him. He's against them, though their hold on him is strong, the propaganda of the Chantry is strong. "...but while we could discuss philosophy and the legal rights of mages all day, I was more concerned by the here and now."
"The here and now is because of our situation in general." Anders countered, then sighed. Justice, we must calm down, we're not here to argue, focus... "But as you wish, the here and now is all we can affect, after all." Within him, Justice growled at his words. And in so, topple everything and make the future what it ought to be, yes, I know... "Our letters suggested you'd wish something from me...?"
Anders already knew the answer, yet he still arched his eyebrows as Orsino leant closer. "Yes, I need your help. All mages in Kirkwall need your help...I need my Circle to escape, all of them." Suddenly nervously licking his lips, Orsino threw a glance back, as if expecting the templars outside to suddenly burst in. "Meredith...sh...she's just too much."
"A symptom of a disease." Anders nodded, inwardly pleased. "I can help you, yes, but why stop with just the symptom...? Together, we could light a fire great enough to make all mages heed the call for freedom." There, I asked, Justice, but he won't want that. The spirit rolled around in Anders' gut, still unable to comprehend such things.
As expected, Orsino pulled back, shaking his head. "I...Anders, I'm sorry, but as First Enchanter, my first and only responsibility is the mages in my Circle. I must look to their safety." A hesitant smile on nervous lips. "The...Circle isn't so bad, you know? But Meredith...we must escape."
"Very well." One step at a time, Justice, plus...if Orsino thinks he's the one using us, he'll be in for a shock. Within him, Justice smiled, pleased, savouring the things to come. "I'll have to agree to disagree with you there." For now. "So you're proposing an alliance to help you save your Circle from the oppression of the templars and Meredith?"
Orsino swallowed, but to his credit, didn't look away, holding Anders' gaze. "Yes."
"That is exactly my goal, so your offer is interesting...but while I have a network of sympathisers and agents, a system for getting people out, I even have contacts abroad...what exactly would you offer with this alliance?" Anders couldn't help but smirk, he knew fully well what Orsino could offer. I've lived in a Circle myself, I know how things work, what you have, and what parts I need...
Orsino raised his chin, giving Anders a haughty look for asking such a question...but the look faltered under the scarred mage's gaze. "I...have an entire tower full of the brightest Circle mages you'd ever know, half of whom will do anything the First Enchanter tells them to without question. The senior leadership of the Circle in particular is loyal to me." All of which won't be able to do much from within the tower...at least not right now. Get to the meat of your offer. "I also have access to our storage, an abundance of things you have little or nothing off. Poultices, herbs, spell books..." Yes, yes, get to the important bit... Anders caught himself leaning forward. "...plus our storage of lyrium, second only to the templars in this city."
Lyrium...with all its applications...
Anders, grinning wide, offered his hand. "Orsino, I think we have a deal..."
8
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The sound of hammers beating a steady rhythm was echoing through the streets, the smell of sawdust nearly overpowering.
It was amazing.
Looking around herself, Isabela felt small and guilty. Everywhere men and women were smiling and working, buildings rising around them due to their toil. They wouldn't have to rebuild without me...
Yet they were, and fast, the labour of thousands concentrated into the relatively small area of the Kirkwall docks.
Next to her, Garrett in his leather armour sounded pleased with himself, almost smug. "It's not of stone, as I'd liked, but it'll have to do, the city needs to recover, and fast."
"Well...you're doing it..." Isabela muttered back, watching with a grimace as many people spotting the noble and his guards stopped what they were doing to bow, some even kneeling to the 'Viscount'. Garrett might have continued to claim he was merely the viscount of the nobles, their representative, but Isabela saw him lapping it up as every person, be they high or low, referred to him by the title. Guess he deserves it though...we all get what we deserve, in the end.
That sucks, I like life.
Garrett, seemingly not noticing Isabela's empty words, went on. "We're rebuilding the docks first...the work is bleeding money. Most nobles aren't grumbling about this part though, it's already getting a few traders, after all...mostly due to us offering to buy food at ridiculous prices, but still, as merchants, my nobles understand the idea of making business come back, even at an initial cost." A grumble. "Of course, with Meredith raising taxes to pay for her ludicrous purchases of precious metals to make more of those bloody rune-stones there's already complaining about anything not directly related to them. Can't blame them, even, I know my costs are up by about a hundred percent."
Isabela winced, it was indeed scary, mostly for Merrill's sake, to see so many templars marching across the streets, most now carrying a baton of black mahogany covered in runes, supposedly able to sniff out magic better than any templar. The random searches were the worst, and considering how Isabela herself had been cornered for those five times already, abusing their newly-gained power wasn't beyond the templars, especially for libidinous men encouraged to a life of celibacy that spotted the Rivaini. Cavity search my arse...literally.
"Still, it's progress, no? And with so many people hired to rebuild the docks, they get some money to spend on food we sell, recovering some of our losses...every little bit helps." Garrett sighed. "Still, the changes aren't so visible anywhere else but in the docks...the nobles need something uniting them, something more hands-on than letting me cart off their savings..."
"Yeah, I can see how they won't like that in the long run..." Isabela grimaced. She hated tax in general, and Garrett's taxing wasn't even a real one. Though he does it to those filthy rich ones...eh, always the silver lining, eh, Isabela? "What are you going to do?" Maker, I sound tired...
"I'm hoping for some team-building exercises." Garrett chuckled. "Aveline and her guard are basically holding back a storm here, barely keeping order in the streets as it is. But with all those paranoid people in Hightown after the Qunari attack, the amount of noble-hired soldiers is at an all-time high...and I've received a certain letter that's opened quite a window of opportunity..." Glancing at him, Isabela found the man was smirking, plans moving within his skull, ever turning and churning. You scare me sometimes. "Meredith will see us united, the world will see us united."
"Does this uniting still include Merrill?" Isabela felt a little energized at the question, a jolt of anger. "I can't help but notice that despite this proposal and such, she's spending an awful lot of time around me, Aveline and Varric...don't have time for her any more or something? Or would it just be bad to be seen with her?"
Garrett grimaced, the words striking something under the Champion's ambition. "I've...been somewhat busy, yes, I...I'll make it up to her, after this thing with Meredith is done with." He shot Isabela an annoyed look. "And don't think I fear being seen with her, I've never apologised for our relationship to the other nobles, and I'm not about to start now." He cocked his head to the side with a smirk. "Not like they have much choice...who else would lead them? De Launcet? One of the younger ones, ready to wet themselves whenever Meredith looks at them?"
"And if they had had a choice and Merrill was held against you...?" Isabela couldn't help but ask.
Garrett snorted and looked away. "Pointless question, that's not the case." Not the answer I wanted, Hawke... Isabela clenched her fist, then unclenched it. Oh what's the point? What right do I have to dictate what others do after my own screw-ups? "And if it were, I would of course chose Merrill." Nice of you to add that, needed to think about it? "Though I didn't bring you here to talk about my love-life."
Isabela shrugged, tired, disinterested. "And that is?"
"I'm curious about how you're doing, I haven't seen a lot of you-"
"That's because you've been busy being Champion Viscount Hawke, lord and saviour of Kirkwall."
"Heh..." Garrett glanced down at her, though his amusement was short-lived as he finally gave her a good look. "How are you doing, anyway? Anders told me about you helping him, that's good..."
"I'm...trying." Isabela sighed. "Might as well, eh?" Shrugged. "Do some good while I still can, eh?"
"Isabela, there won't be any trial or anything, I've seen to it so that won't happen. You've taken your punishment, you still are, in a way...hell, if Aveline's satisfied with it, I almost feel as if I've been to harsh."
Isabela offered a pale smile. Aveline, you're too kind...Maker, I better never utter those words out loud. "Yeah, thank you, Garrett, I know all that...it wasn't what I was referring to."
"Errr..." Garrett frowned in confusion, his memory apparently hazy on the issue.
Can't blame you, too much to do, eh? Shrugging, Isabela looked away. "Castillon is still out there, and he'll kill me."
"Hang on now, we've dealt with worse-"
"Maybe today, Garrett, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a year or two...he likes to keep people guessing, makes him feel powerful." Isabela swallowed, but the panic she'd felt earlier...by now it was almost gone, replaced by weariness. "I won't get any letter of warning, no assassins will come into my room at night, nothing dramatic..."
"Then what-"
"At some point, I'll bump into someone on the street...and find a shiv in my spine." Isabela shrugged. "Or I'll be drinking at the Hanged Man when half the patronage, including me, suddenly die to a poison in the drinks. Might be a random arrow in the dark, or some murderous maniac unleashed on me in the privy...heck, heard of one man simply getting a roof-tile dropped on him." She sighed, blankly staring ahead. "Nothing dramatic, nothing fancy, and when I least expect it." I hope I die in a dignified posture, at least... "But he will kill me."
"Or he'll outsource the job."
The new voice made Isabela look up.
Coterie leathers? Why are the Coterie here?
Then she realised that the three men, crossbows held ready, had just appeared from behind a pile of logs, weapons trained on the pirate.
Ah.
The world slowed to a crawl.
Garrett, standing next to her, began to move...and so did one of the crossbows at the threatening movement.
No. No more should die because of what I-!
Isabela put a hand against Garrett's chest, the leather of his armour smooth against her palm...and pushed.
Then the world stopped.
Huh...
Slowly, like in a dream, it began to list, like a ship caught in a high wave at sea, the distant horizon disappeared, replaced by sky.
Blinking, Isabela looked down.
She could see the horizon again, see it falling.
She could also see the crossbow-bolts.
One, lodged deep in her stomach, the fins of brightly red leather.
The second, shaft of black wood, lodged between two of her ribs in her left side.
The third, a barely visible shadow under her jaw, buried just under her shattered collar-bone.
Beyond, the horizon came to a stop in a little cloud of dust, the bright sun shining on her face from beyond her still feet.
Then a shadow fell upon her, Garrett's guards, as if wading through water, moving to block her sun, shields and swords ready.
Then Garrett himself appeared, hovering over her, screaming something at her, then raising his head, shouting at someone out of Isabela's vision.
I'll miss the sea.
Isabela smiled, something wet running down her cheeks as she looked at Garrett still shouting at people, angry and...was it worry she saw?
And I'll miss you guys too.
The man was fumbling with his jacket now, what couldn't be anything but a curse slipping from his lips, his face strangely dark, all around him...grey.
Wish I could have stayed for the wedding...
Then, he was glowing, a second sun, a bright light, the darkness surrounding it growing darker.
Wonder what hell will be like...?
The light was fading, shimmering like glass, red like life, faltering...then disappearing.
I'm sorry.
8
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8
Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for staying the course.