Freedom Among Slaves: A Mage's beginning
Chapter 6: Runaway
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, Bioware or EA.
Author's note: Ok, so after the events of the last chapter, Hawke is obviously upset and somewhat remorseful. She'd never had to kill before so, naturally, I wrote her as feeling a bit guilty, even though it was self defence. This chapter contains a swear word, literally, just one word.
"Your sister is in danger, child."
Hawke whirled. A white haired woman with yellow eyes stepped out from the alleyway Hawke had just vacated.
"How do you know?" Hawke was numb.
"I am Flemeth, Asha'bellanar…the dreaded Witch of the Wilds." The woman's eyes flashed.
Hawke, for some strange reason, didn't doubt the woman. There was something in those eyes, those yellow, malevolent, depraved yet wise and somehow kind eyes that lent itself nicely to the image of Flemeth that Hawke had subconsciously formulated from the stories she'd heard.
"How can I help her?" How can I redeem myself and be rid of this blood on my hands?
"Take this amulet and bring it to an acquaintance of mine." Just as Hawke was about to inquire just who this acquaintance was Flemeth spoke again. "The amulet will tell you when the time is right, and where to find them. Do whatever they ask with the amulet, and your family's debt to me for saving your sister will be repaid."
"You will save her from the danger she's in?"
"Yes."
Hawke took the amulet without hesitation, anything for Bethany. As she was about to go, Flemeth stopped her.
"Know this elven-blooded child, when you sink into despair I give you hope, when you are alone, I grant you a friend, when you are defiant I gift you fortitude, and when you see Vengeance I make you Compassion." With that Flemeth turned into a cat and left.
"Wait, what do you mean by…elven-blooded…?" The unanswered question hung in the air.
Hawke put the amulet on, turned, and ran, hoping to put as much distance between her and the Templars as was possible before they started hunting her.
Anders ran. They'd found him, so he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He was lucky that the girl whose father had reported him to the Templars had developed a soft spot for him.
Granted, that soft spot had been the reason her father had reported him. Still, he had a head start, so he ran.
Anders tripped and fell against a flower stall. Getting to his feet he handed a crushed flower to a random girl.
"Our love would be meant to be,
If it weren't for the Templars hunting me!"
He ran off before she could react.
On a whim, Anders decided to go to the docks, see if that pirate would smuggle him out of Ferelden on her ship. He couldn't remember her name.
Belle, Bella, Isobel, Isabella?
Isabella that was the one. Now all he had to do was find her.
Anders snapped out of his reverie when he realised he was lost. He turned about, trying to regain his bearings. As he peered down one of the narrow, deserted streets, something charged around the corner and into him, knocking him over and landing on top of him.
"Hey!" The thing protested, trying to disentangle itself from him.
When the stars faded from Anders' eyes he realised it was a teenage girl, about his age. She had some crazy red scar-birthmark-thing running across her nose, short, silky looking black hair and deep, heterochromatic eyes, one ocean blue, the other a forest green with a dark brown-grey ring on the inner and outer edge of the iris. In short she was stunning, her beauty only marred by the redness around her eyes that suggested she'd been crying and the dried blood crusted around her jaw, neck and hands.
"Let me go," she spoke quietly.
"Oh, sorry," he realised he'd been gripping her arms and hastily let go.
She got up and made to leave.
That's when the Templars caught up to him and he realised she was wearing mage robes.
"Shit!" The girl cursed quite colourfully. She cursed him, the Templars and some poor eejit called Vaughn.
Anders gingerly sat up, feeling the back of his head where it'd struck the cobblestone. Thankfully nothing was damaged, but it'd leave a nasty bruise.
The girl backed away from the Templars. Her foot struck a loose stone and she tripped, landing on Anders, yet again. He held up his left hand to catch her back before she thwacked her skull off the pavement.
"You're welcome," he muttered.
She ignored him, pushing herself off of her human seat and…transforming…into a cat.
Well that's a new one, Anders thought, genuinely surprised.
The Templars had seen it all before however and one of them stooped and grabbed her when she tried to escape. Anders stood. He wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to fight the Templars. There would be other chances, other escape attempts.
"You! Mage!" The Templar walked up to him, "You like cats don't ya?"
Anders nodded.
"Good. Keep an eye on her," the cat-girl was shoved into Anders' arms "and I'll get Greagoir to be lenient, this time."
"What about when she turns back?"
"Well, keep keeping an eye on her." Anders was sure the Templar rolled his eyes. Hard to tell with the bucket-helmet.
Anders let the Templars surround him and march him from Denerim and towards Kinloch Hold. He cradled the cat close to his chest. Absentmindedly he petted her. She was a grey tabby. He'd always wanted a tabby. Anders started to think of names for the "cat" when he saw her eyes glaring up at him and remembered she was really a mage.
He stopped petting before he lost any blood.
Hawke changed back as soon as the Templars set up camp and the mage put her down. A Templar informed her that she was being taken to Kinloch Hold, to Ferelden's Circle and that it was pointless to run.
As the Templars busied themselves building a fire, Hawke went to sit beside the other mage.
Might as well get to know him, who knows, we might become friends. No one else to talk to anyway, she thought.
He looked up as she approached. His eyes were a light brown and his hair the colour of sunshine. His hair was short, part of it tied separate to the rest.
He moved over on the log he was sitting on. Hawke sat facing him.
"You have to teach me that trick, sweetheart!"
"The shapeshifting?"
"Yes! You can tell me once we're in the Circle."
"Ok."
"How'd you get that?" He pointed at the red mark on her nose.
"War-paint. Never leave the stuff on overnight, it'll do a number on your face."
"Ha-ha! Oh, don't say that sweetheart, it works on you!"
"Stop that."
"What?"
"Calling me that…"
"Tell me your name then."
"Hawke."
"You quite sure?"
"Yes I'm Hawke." She grit her teeth.
"I am Anders, it is a pleasure to meet you."
"What's it like, in the Circle?"
"Pretty and pragmatic; a striking combination."
"I'm sorry, what?" Hawke was utterly bewildered.
"You. You're both pretty and pragmatic. Most of the time it's one or the other."
"…Right…Back to my original question then…"
"Oh, it's…well," Anders looked nervously at the Templars, "Well, it's uh…you'll see for yourself, I suppose. If they're lenient with me I'll tell you more once we get there, ok?"
That scared Hawke. Would the Templars kill someone for trying to be free? Could anyone be that heartless?
Author's note: I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, I tried to make it as foreshadowing as possible. Was my humor ok? Anyway thanks for reading. Please vote on the poll on my profile; it'll influence a later chapter.