Freedom Among Slaves: A Mage's beginning
Chapter 7: Kinloch Hold
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, Bioware or EA.
Author's note: Sorry about the delay and the length of this chapter, but hopefully the next one will make up for that! Remember to vote on my poll! It WILL influence a later chapter which is coming sometime in the next few chapters. I refuse to do the whole mouse thing with Hawke's harrowing, and I'm not sure you'll all like what my back-up plan for her harrowing is.
They reached the circle in, according to Anders, record time.
The tower was imposing, thick heavy doors that required ten men to open properly kept the mages contained. Another set of doors guarded the entrance to the circle proper.
The Templar in charge of their group spoke to another.
"That's the Knight-Commander, Greagoir," Anders supplied.
An elderly mage joined the conversing Templars.
"That's First Enchanter Irving."
The Knight-Commander and First Enchanter approached.
"Have Wynne check this one for any injuries after you prepare her phylactery, First Enchanter, then lock both of them in solitary confinement. Three months." The Knight-Commander walked away.
Hawke was led off by the First Enchanter while Anders was dragged in another direction.
The room Hawke was led to, unlike other rooms in the tower, had a door. An elderly mage sat reading a book in one corner, a row of empty vials stood menacingly on a table.
When Irving approached her with a dagger and one of the vials, she realised with a jolt what a phylactery was.
Blood, so they could hunt her if she escaped.
Ironically, it was a form of blood magic. The Templars used Blood Magic to hunt suspected Blood Mages.
Now that's rich, thought Hawke.
She felt the chill of the metal against her skin and then burning pain.
"Wynne?" Irving addressed the woman sitting in the corner.
She smiled kindly and stood, approaching Hawke.
Wynne gently placed a hand over the gash in Hawke's arm. The skin flowed over the cut and the flesh knitted itself back together.
"Let's get you a bath and some fresh clothes shall we?"
Hawke protested; she wanted to keep the robes the Dalish had given her. Wynne relented on the condition that she could clean and mend the robes while Hawke was in confinement, to be returned to her once she was allowed to join the other apprentices.
Hawke nodded gruffly. Despite the woman's kindness, she didn't want to become attached to anyone. Having done some thinking on the way to Kinloch Hold, Hawke had decided that it was better that way. She didn't plan on staying long.
As promised Hawke got a bath and new clothes to wear for the time being. Hawke was glad to see simple breeches and a shirt; if she ever saw a dress again, it would be too soon.
"You're going to have to spend some time in quarantine," Wynne stated somewhat sadly, "It's because you were outside Chantry control. The Templars don't take chances."
"But first we need to write down your details," The First Enchanter walked in, followed by the Knight-Commander
"Name?" The Knight-Commander asked.
Irving held a quill poised to write in her file.
"…Hawke…"
"First name, Mage!" Greagoir spat.
"…M-Marian…" Hawke quailed under his glare.
"Marian…Hawke…" Irving exchanged a look with Wynne.
"Age?"
The questions went on and on. When they finished two Templars grabbed Hawke's forearms and began leading her to the dungeons, not caring that she could barely keep up with their long, quick strides.
"She'll 'ave to share. We've got no empty cells." The Templar jailer unlocked a cell door.
Hawke was shoved inside. She heard the door slam shut, and the jangle of the keys in the lock before her eyes adjusted fully to the gloom. She spotted her cell mate.
"I have to share a cell…with you, for three whole months!" Hawke screeched, "I'm a GIRL for Andraste's sake! What do they think they're playing at?!"
"Hello again, sweetheart," Anders cheerfully greeted her, "Maybe with the prospect of some scintillating conversation, I won't start talking to myself this time."