Warning: There is a NSFW scene at the beginning that some might consider to verge on dubious consent. I have tried to make it as explicitly verbally consensual as I can given the circumstances (it involves the use of enchanted Tevinter rings, which they actually have not used yet), but this is still a heads up in case you are very sensitive about it in fics.
Song: Fire/Aim Your Arrows High by VersaEmerge.
Chapter 39: Shoot Out All the Lights
Merrill had recovered from the wounds that Caitlyn had given her, and she even managed an innocent, sincere, forgiving smile for her friend as she left the house, which further shamed Caitlyn. This is the end, she vowed once more. I defeated the Arishok of the Qunari, their top general and military commander, without resorting to blood magic. I do not need it. The memory of the flu outbreak and the limited lyrium supply suddenly made an unwelcome intrusion, but she tried to dismiss it. That will never be a "necessity" for me again. I will be able to get lyrium whenever I require it, since I no longer have to conceal what I am. No more blood. I originally vowed not to use it offensively, but I broke that promise repeatedly. Even if I kept it now, I might still hear the voice of that rage demon or another one. I have a quick temper and a passionate nature and anger is always going to be my vice. I shouldn't take extra risks.
Caitlyn then calmed Mal down and read to him until he went to sleep, choosing the Avvar Snow Queen tale. It seemed fitting for a night like tonight. The newly named Champion of Kirkwall, defeater of the Arishok, now reads to her little child, she thought wryly as he nodded off in his bed. She left the book on a shelf beside his bed and turned around.
Anders was standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the candlelight of the hallway. Suddenly she remembered that he was angry and frustrated with her earlier that evening. Apparently he still was, she judged from the tense expression on his face.
She closed Mal's door quietly and turned to him. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected that you would put it out of your mind."
He raised his eyebrows as they entered their own bedroom, pulling the door behind them. He was the first in, and once they were inside, he turned around, closing in the space around her, so that she was backed against the door while he stood a person's height away from her, glaring. "Of course not," he said. "You feel validated now, don't you, since you walked away with your life, your freedom, and a nice new title?"
Suddenly annoyance filled her. She had just done an incredible thing, and been rewarded grandly for it—and he was angry? She folded her arms across her chest and scowled back. "Maybe I do! But more than that, what would you have done? Someone had to kill him for what he did. Justice must see that, doesn't he? He agrees?"
"Yes," Anders said between clenched teeth.
"So why shouldn't I have been that person?"
"You challenged him yourself!" Anders exploded. "You were spoiling for a fight, even after promising me that you wouldn't do anything rash! Even after the incident with the rage demon, you still wanted blood. I wouldn't blame you if he challenged you, or if it became clear that nobody was going to step up... but you were as aggressive as possible! You promised me that you wouldn't and then two minutes later, you were basically telling him that he was going to die, that you weren't even going to consider treating with him—before you knew that he was going to demand Isabela, before you knew anything that he would say. You made it clear that you wanted vengeance for Kirkwall."
"And you have a problem with that? That's rich!" she barked out in a laugh.
"I could have lost you," he burst out, his voice suddenly husky, "and permanently this time. Do I mean so little to you when you see a chance to further your ambition?"
So that was it, she realized. He believed that she held certain promises to him in little regard. She stepped forward, closing part of the distance between them. "I had second thoughts about it as soon as I said those words," she told him. "I wasn't sure if I had made the right choice..."
"But you are sure now. You feel validated now. I'll ask again..."
"What do you want me to say? I have a lot of confidence in my abilities. If I didn't, I wouldn't risk myself, because of you and Mal. You know how much you mean to me."
He stepped forward, only a foot and a half away now. "I know," he said in a growl, "that you drive me half mad with worry sometimes—"
"Do you think you don't do the same to me?"
"Ask me that again after I challenge a warlord to a duel to the death."
"You already defeated a Magister Sidereal." She wondered momentarily if he would challenge her assertion about the Architect or if he had accepted it.
"Not alone, and you weren't there to watch it unfold. But all right—so did you, and I was worried sick the entire time you were gone! And then you came back temporarily paralyzed!" He breached the distance, grabbing her around the waist in a crushing grip. "Several times over the past three years, you barely avoided Meredith's Templars—"
"She can't touch me now."
"She can touch both of us as long as she draws breath," he growled, holding her even more tightly. "She doesn't care about laws. She thinks she is the law."
Her breath hitched in her chest; perhaps it was because her blood was still up, but as she gazed at his furious face and felt the grip of his hands on her waist and hips, she felt desire surging in her.
"But leaving her aside, you have repeatedly come back to me bloodied in fights, burned by dragons—and maybe you have had to do these things, but don't you know what it does to me?"
She jerked free of him, feeling a tingle from the loss of contact and a sudden, intense need to feel his touch again—just as she intended. "Then do something about it tonight," she said, stunned at how low and dark her voice sounded. An idea flooded her mind suddenly. "Use the Tevinter rings that Isabela gave us for our wedding."
Anders' eyes widened in genuine shock at this suggestion. He drew back slightly, gaping at her, his despairing fury suddenly leaving him. "We... have never used those before," he said. "Are you sure tonight, like this, is... I mean, we were going to talk about it before trying that..."
She stepped forward. "Then set your mind at ease. I'm saying it because I want you to shove me on that bed"—her glance darted quickly to their draped bed—"and set us both on fire. 'Punish' me that way." He swallowed hard, but the uncertainty was rapidly leaving his face, replaced by a dark eagerness. "Do it, my love," she whispered.
That broke his will. He lunged forward, capturing her lips in a hard kiss that was still tinged with anger—and then pulled away just as quickly, turning aside with a gleam in his eye and a corner of his mouth upturned as he headed toward their dresser.
She tried to calm herself and control her breathing as he rummaged through their trinket box. He closed the lid, turning around with one fist clenched—and on the other hand, a second ring, a plain gold one, adorning the finger next to the one that bore his wedding band. He advanced on her, opening his fist as he reached her.
"You're sure you want this?" he whispered. The ring that he wore was not doing anything to him, he noted—evidently, it did not do anything unless someone was wearing the other one.
She gazed at him. "I said I did."
A half-moan, half-growl escaped him at that. He lunged for her, taking her into his arms, devouring her lips, leaving a trail down her jawline and marking her neck with bites as he forced the silver band on her left middle finger.
The ring was heated from being in his fist. As the metal passed across her digit, she wondered momentarily if its original purpose was to command a slave, or if these rings had always been intended for intimate play. As soon as it was fully on, however, she suspected she knew the answer—because the effect that it had on her mind was to invoke a new surge of desire and lust for him, not to take away her sense of willpower and control over her own actions, nor to limit her ability to access her magic. That could still be abused, she thought idly as he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and turned to carry her to bed, but not now, not with us...
Anders was on top of her in the next moment, pulling her down the mattress by her legs, which he wrapped around his waist again. She was fully underneath him as he quickly undid the fasteners on his coat and pulled it off along with his tunic in one movement.
"Anders," she urged as he untied the drawstrings to his trousers. He stopped and gave her a pointed, rakish smile. A hint of ice-blue light flashed behind his eyes.
She had been pinned beneath him, but she had a bit more room to move now that he was removing his pants. She began to pop the buttons on her clothes, revealing her heaving chest, when he tossed his trousers to the floor and turned sharply around to her.
"Stop doing that," he said.
She was not sure if it was the enchanted rings or if she would have done so anyway, but she stopped unbuttoning her top at once. He hovered over her and placed his hands beside hers, taking the folds of fabric between his fingers and continuing the action himself. "I will do that," he murmured, unbuttoning her top and pulling it down her arms. As her bosom came into view, he leaned over and placed a kiss between her breasts. She breathed deeply, leaning her head back, her eyes fluttering closed of their own accord as Anders pushed her back onto the pillows. He tugged the drawstring of her pants, untying the bow that held them, and swiftly pulled them down her legs along with her smalls. They had both shed their shoes earlier in the evening upon their return home, and now, both of them fully unclothed, he braced himself on top of her with his elbows and proceeded to share intense, full-mouth kisses with her, his hands running possessively through her long red hair.
Caitlyn thought about that too as his fingers caressed her scalp tenderly. Although she had done so for most of her life until Dragon 9:29, for several years after that, she had not wanted to wear her hair long. It had made her feel vulnerable, both physically and emotionally, since it was a liability in combat and was associated with her memories of the first half of 9:27 and their lost relationship. But she had grown it halfway down her back again since meeting him in Kirkwall. She hadn't done so specifically to please him; it had just happened as she became more empowered in the city through her own deeds, had regained him, and had become less fearful and defensive in both senses. Long hair was part of who she had been for years, and she had reclaimed that at last. That she knew Anders considered her hair beautiful was a bonus.
"You're Kirkwall's Champion," he murmured against the side of her face between wet, passionate kisses. "Soon to be more than that—also for Kirkwall. But whose are you, really?"
Perhaps it was the rings; perhaps not. She didn't hesitate for a second. "Yours," she said, reveling in his growl of approval, the accompanying jolt of lightning on her left side, and the hard kiss on her upper neck that would certainly leave a mark. "I'm yours."
"Yes, you are." He continued to kiss her, his heated hands all over her body, pulsing spark after spark of magic into her. She felt her own magic surge within her and channeled it into a burst of heat at her fingertips of both hands, which were firmly gripping his lower shoulder blades. He hissed in surprise at the sensation and responded with a somewhat stronger spark—then, as she gasped from that, lowered his entire body into position.
She expected him to fill her and was more than ready for it, her inner thighs already slick from pooled desire—but he waited for a second, pausing, his gaze suddenly softening as his amber eyes were locked with her green ones. Then he took her left hand and slipped the plain gold band off his hand right before removing the silver one from hers.
Caitlyn felt slightly different then, but it was hard to articulate exactly how so. She didn't want him any less, nor did she feel that she was suddenly unshackled to do anything that she had been prevented from doing before. Perhaps the magic had actually lessened her own aggression and angry resolve, and the surge of desire she had felt for him when they had put on the rings had followed that like a flood after a broken dam.
"Tell me, do you want this?" he said urgently, letting both rings fall to the mattress beside them. "I don't want to do it if—"
She embraced him with both arms, silencing him with a kiss. "Yes," she said quietly, breaking it. "I do. And I did before, Anders. That was real."
He gasped out and kissed her again in relief as he finally buried himself inside her to the hilt and began to move.
They did not last very long after that, both of them falling into a desperate rhythm of movement punctuated by gasps of breath, exclamations of love and possession, and quick, intense moans. In a few minutes, they were both at their peaks, trembling and quaking in each other's arms as they spent themselves. He collapsed on her and remained in that position for a while, stroking her sides tenderly as she wrapped her arms around his back.
When they finally recognized that they could not sleep like that, he rolled off her, somewhat regretfully, but she quickly nestled herself under his chin and allowed him to hold her close through the night.
They did not need to discuss the Arishok's defeat any further the next morning. He seemed to accept that she was who she was: confrontational, and, in her own way, as driven by justice as he was—and she accepted that she could be more considerate of the fear he experienced every time she endangered herself in that pursuit, even if she knew that she could not stop pursuing it.
They found the discarded rings under one pillow that morning. He scooped them up and chuckled as he put them back in the trinket box. "What were you experiencing when you were wearing it?" he asked her.
"I thought about that—briefly—and I think it sort of pushed away the anger and aggressiveness that I had been feeling for most of yesterday," she said. "I already wanted you—as you know—but once that anger was gone, that feeling took over. Was that what you wanted?"
He contemplated that. "Not consciously... I wasn't deliberately thinking to push your aggression away... but yes, I guess it was." He eyed the box. "So the effect is subtle. They can't be used to turn one person into a puppet or to create an urge that doesn't already exist. I guess that's good?"
"Anders," she said with a wry smile, taking his hands, "they can be used improperly, even with that effect. You know that. But we won't do it." She caressed his cheek gently. "You couldn't bring yourself to cross that last barrier without knowing for sure, even when we have been married for over two years and partners for longer. That's why I trust you with this. It's not because of what the rings' effect is. It's because of you."
He finally smiled back as he gave her a hug.
They knew there was work to be done in the city that day. Leaving Mal behind with Leandra, they headed out to begin the grim accounting. Aveline had called a curfew in Lowtown the night before, and now, the City Guard were helping the residents clean up and tend to the dead. Aveline herself was standing guard in front of the Qunari compound, where, she said, some people were still inside, Qunari who had not joined the attack.
"Saemus Dumar is among them," she said in a low voice so that no one else could hear and become enraged at this news. "I don't think he knows that his father is dead."
Caitlyn scowled. "He converted to the Qun. They don't have fathers and mothers as we know them. He gave up his family when he made that choice. I would give up every possession I own to have my father back, and there was a time only three years ago when I thought Mal would never know his and would have done the same for him. My sympathy is all for old Dumar himself for not getting to speak to his son one last time."
Aveline raised her eyebrows in surprise at her friend's coldness, but she did not dispute it. "The soldiers who survived have been captured," she said, "and are being held in jail."
Caitlyn wondered for a moment what would be the best thing to do about that. With the Arishok's death, who was now the leader of this contingent of Qunari? Would they accept being ordered to return home without the Tome of Koslun? And that reminds me, I have to make sure Isabela hasn't done a runner, she thought. She is going to donate her proceedings to Kirkwall. I will insist upon it, especially after what I saw this morning. The sobs of new, too-young widows, of children who had lost a parent or a sibling, filled the quarter. Dried blood marred the alleys of Lowtown, and numerous buildings had been burned out and blasted with explosive barrels of the Qunari blackpowder. There was even one side alley where the residents swore that the Qunari had set off a barrel of the same madness-inducing poison gas that the rogue elf had made weeks ago.
The Hanged Man had been among the structures that had suffered damage, but it had not been burned or blasted out, and no one had died inside. Varric was staring at the stairs at Caitlyn and Anders entered. "She's up there," he said. "But don't you worry, I'm not going to let her go anywhere until she has put the coin into your hands."
"You don't trust her not to flee either, then," Caitlyn stated.
"You weren't the only one she lied to. And sure, maybe I am the last one who should talk about lying, but there is a difference between what I do and what she did." He sighed. "Fenris has also said that he's thinking about leaving—I hope not permanently. He said he always respected the Qunari because of what happened in his past, the kindness they showed him—and he feels guilt about what he did in return—so I think this has hit him hard, seeing them like this. I guess it's one thing to hear of them killing Tevinters, the people who enslaved and abused him, and another to watch as they kill Kirkwall civilians just because their leader ordered it."
"And to realize that the Qun demands absolute obedience, just as a slave master does," Anders put in.
Caitlyn felt a pang of regret. She would miss them, she realized, but she did understand it in Fenris's case. It would be like—she realized—seeing an army of mages committing atrocities. This would have been a shock to him that cut deeply. "I hope they go together, if they do go," she said feelingly. "Please encourage that, if you can."
Varric nodded. "Will do, Hawke."
The next place they needed to visit was the Chantry. Petrice was presiding, actually interacting with the people who came by for prayer and comfort—though she did direct other priests, brothers, and sisters to supply comfort, apparently recognizing her own limitations. There were numerous people—not all of them human, Caitlyn noticed with surprise—who were sheltering in the structure, their homes apparently too damaged for them to remain.
Petrice nodded in acknowledgment as Caitlyn and Anders approached her. "Good morning," she said. "It is truly a day that the Maker has made. They are defeated."
I don't want to hear this right now, Caitlyn thought. She nodded curtly and got to business. "Grand Cleric," she said, emphasizing the title purposefully, "I wanted to talk with you about what happened last night in the Keep. Thank you so much, first of all, for declaring me... for protecting me from Meredith."
Anders placed an arm around her waist.
Petrice managed a brief smile. "I wasn't about to lose you to her. Kirkwall needs a Viscountess now, not a usurper."
In other words, you still need me to protect your own position from her, she thought, completing the unfinished statement in her mind. I appreciate your honesty about why you did it, at least. "I know what she is going to do, as you warned me. She will appeal her dismissal to Val Royeaux. But... unless and until they rescind it, it will be in effect, and I have to say, I think this is the right time to make those changes to the Kirkwall Circle. And not just because of what I did. We took out three Qunari Saarebas who would have done untold damage. We broke into the Keep because of magic. We weren't getting in without it. Now is the hour—and it will be easier to actually implement those reforms if Meredith is not the acting Knight-Commander."
"Cullen Rutherford is no friend to mages," Anders interjected. "In the Circle of Ferelden, he was terrified of magic..."
"But as Acting Knight-Commander, not an official appointment, he won't feel fully empowered, I don't think," Caitlyn said. "And the other Templars won't feel as compelled to obey his whims, whereas she is the official Grand Cleric, confirmed by Divine Justinia. This is the moment, Anders."
He nodded. "I agree. I'm just saying, if the Orlesians do approve Meredith's dismissal, I don't know how much of an improvement he would be."
"Any improvement at all would be something. He stood by and watched as I fought the Arishok with magic, Anders. He was uncomfortable, but he was not the one who exploded in paranoid fury. Meredith was."
Petrice broke in. "I will order her dismissal at once. She insulted and accused me too, if you recall. I would do it even if she had not threatened you. But... do not get your hopes up, Warden. There are many in the Chantry who think mages are the true threat to the faith, even if they know the Maker, rather than the barbaric atrocities we witnessed yesterday, and some of these people are highly placed."
As they turned aside, Anders muttered something under his breath to the effect that "threats to the faith" were not his problem or his priority, but fortunately Petrice did not hear this. She will be out of power for a critical period, but she will appeal, and her appeal might succeed. She has allies. Someone nominated her to be Divine. We have a long fight ahead, Caitlyn thought as they left the Chantry.
"You usurping, conniving, mage-sympathizing heretic! This will not stand! By Andraste and the Maker, it will not stand!"
"You do not speak for Andraste or the Maker. Take it up with the Knight-Vigilant! You're lucky I am just dismissing you and not ordering your arrest for treason!"
Meredith Stannard clenched her fists. The two women, she and Petrice, did not seem to care about the show that they were putting on for everyone at the Gallows to see. "Yes, that is what you do to your enemies, is it not? You accuse them of treason. You and the smirking apostates who installed you!"
"Divine Justinia, successor to the Sunburst Throne and voice of Our Lady Andraste, installed me. You are dismissed as Knight-Commander of Kirkwall for your baseless assertions that Champion Hawke and I engineered the mass slaughter of innocent people. As I said, take it to the Knight-Vigilant!"
"I will do that," she bit off. "I know Knight-Vigilant Trentwatch and I certainly will take it to him! You are compromised; you have an alliance with this family of apostates. I saved the city from the privations and abuses of Viscount Threnhold. Kirkwall"—she gestured toward the gathered crowd, clearly seeing the wisdom in a populist appeal such as Petrice herself had ridden to power—"you remember, don't you? Those of you who are old enough still remember what I did for the city. This woman has been Grand Cleric for not even a week, but she sees fit to dismiss me—she, an Orlesian in a questionable alliance with two Fereldans! Their child has only a quarter Kirkwaller blood! Remember that before you act rashly to bestow further honors on this defiant apostate! Yes, I shall appeal, and the true faithful will defend me!" Her eyes practically popping out of her head, the red blood vessels almost glowing in their prominent visibility, she stormed from the steps where the statues of agonized slaves stood.
"She condemns me for being Orlesian by birth," Petrice intoned, "but she says she will appeal to another Orlesian. I ask you, who defended Kirkwall in our hour of need?"
Caitlyn and Anders were among the many people who were gathered for this spectacle. She found it hard to keep a grin off her face as the furious woman descended, so instead she focused on Knight-Captain... no, Acting Knight-Commander Cullen, who looked like a deer caught in front of a carriage the moment she announced his position.
Mal was eager to see his parents again by the time they returned home. "I read about a new spell and I think I can do it!" he exclaimed to them.
"What spell?" Caitlyn asked, interested.
"This one!" The boy raised his short little staff and opened his free hand wide. It was a dramatic stance, and it was both amusing and endearing to her. Beside her, Anders also suppressed a laugh. But when a shining greenish-white ball of light appeared out of the Fade, glowing beside his staff, their laughter ceased.
"Mal!" Caitlyn exclaimed, stunned. "You can summon a spell wisp?" Anders was gazing at his son in astonishment.
He shrugged, unable to hide his pride that he had impressed both of them. "I read about it and wanted to do it. It means more magic while it lasts... oops." At these words, the wisp vanished. He looked up sheepishly. "I can't make it stay long enough to use it for anything else." A tired yawn escaped his mouth. "And it makes me tired."
She got on her knees beside him, followed by Anders in the next moment. "Mal," she said seriously, "I never thought I'd say this... but let's develop your other magic more before you do this one too much. It won't tire you as much when you are older and have more magical power. At your age, it's probably taking all of your mana to do it." His face fell, and she said hurriedly, "I'm still extremely proud of you for being able to do it! It's just maybe too big a spell for you right now, which is why it tires you and why you can't keep it up for long. Once you have more magical power—which will come with time and practice of your other spells—then you will be able to do this one and keep it up so that it can actually be useful to you."
He still looked disappointed, but he could not argue with the fact that he was unable to cast anything else while the wisp was present, so he nodded.
That night, Anders was waiting for Caitlyn to show up in their bedroom. He wondered where she was. She had already bathed, but she had returned to the main part of the house instead of staying in their bedroom.
He was on the verge of getting up to look for her when she entered the room, a parcel of books in her arms from the Amell-Hawke library. He squinted to read the titles on the spines. She set the books down on her bedside table and climbed under the covers beside him, and it was then that he got a good look.
"Force magic?" he said.
She gazed sheepishly at him. "I'm giving up blood magic, but it now feels like something is missing—a weapon that I am denying myself. So I decided to fill the gap. Seeing Mal cast that wisp today made me decide. He's so talented, even when he bites off more than he can chew..."
Anders chuckled wryly. "I think every mage does that at some point. It's a learning experience."
She smiled back. "Well, the time may come when he will want to do things that neither of us actually has expertise in doing. You can handle all things healing, creation school, and spirit school; I can teach him elementalism and entropy... but what if he wants to do this someday? We only know the basics. Bethany was learning it... which, I guess, is why I didn't try to learn it myself after we got this house," she said with a sigh. "I should have, instead of teaching myself blood magic... but I suppose my point is, now, between this vulnerability I'm feeling about refusing myself blood magic, and the awareness of how talented he is, I think it's time for me to learn something new too. And why not something that would honor my sister, rather than something that exposes me to rage demons and almost kills my friends?"
Anders leaned over and took her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "I can't wait to see you do it."
A messenger from the Chantry arrived early the next morning, after Anders and Mal went to the clinic, but he had a message for Caitlyn. "Her Grace wishes to see you at the Gallows," he said.
"At the Gallows?" Caitlyn was startled, and that location seemed ominous. Did this concern the Circle?
"It's about the Qunari."
Considering that this was Petrice, that information somehow felt even more ominous to Caitlyn, but she wasted no time in getting ready. She picked up her most powerful staff, feeling rather smug about the fact that she could carry it openly now even in the heart of Templar power in the city. And—she had to admit it to herself—it was a safety net, at least in her mind.
When she arrived at the Gallows, she quickly found the high priest standing in front of the tall stone wall between two of the slave statues. Aveline was standing beside her, the Guard-Captain's face hard and set. Guards armed with crossbows were assembling their weapons. At this sight, Caitlyn suddenly realized what Petrice intended to do with the Qunari, and she felt queasy.
"Your Grace," she said, facing the priest as bravely as she could, "what is this about?" She was sure she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it.
Petrice gazed shrewdly at her. "You know what this is about," she said. "The ones who did not die in battle will face justice for their crimes."
Caitlyn tried to see it rationally and not think about the fact that this was yet more blood that would be spilled. They are killers, she told herself. They committed murder and raised arms against the city. "How many?" she asked.
"The guards captured some three dozen in Lowtown," Aveline said.
Three dozen more lives, thought Caitlyn. "I... is this really the best thing?" she pleaded. "Couldn't they just be imprisoned?"
Petrice replied instead of Aveline. "I understand that you undoubtedly do not want to see any more blood, Hawke, but the people of Lowtown demand this. Think of how you would feel if they had slain someone dear to you."
She closed her eyes momentarily. If the Qunari had killed one of her friends, her mother, or—Maker forbid—Anders or Mal, then... yes. She would want this. They hadn't done that, but she had still wanted the Arishok's life for what he had ordered done to the people of Kirkwall. What right had she to judge others' desire for vengeance, after what she herself had felt? She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. "You have a point. If it will help them heal to see justice done... What do you need me here for? Did you just want me to know about it before it happens?"
"That, and also, since we have no Viscount, you are the closest person to a secular political leader that we currently have," said Petrice. "It needs to be known that this is occurring with your consent. Acting Knight-Commander Cullen has given his signature."
It was difficult enough that her ally and her friend were overseeing a mass execution of unarmed prisoners, even if they were murderers. She saw the argument for it, but she could not overlook the blood and death. It was even harder on her that she was expected to sign off on this officially.
"And you will need to be present for it as well," Petrice added. "The Guard-Captain has identified all the people who lost a family member, at least all who have come forward. They are going to be invited to the front of the crowd to watch. Your heroism in taking on and defeating the Arishok is known throughout the city now, Hawke. They need to see you." She considered for a moment before adding, "And I realize that your son is very young, but if either your mother or your husband could also attend, that would also be a good idea."
She sighed heavily. Her mother wouldn't want to witness this. Anders... she was not sure. He might not either, but on the other hand, Justice might—and increasingly, Anders was taking a hard line on matters of justice. If he comes, I can lean on him, she thought.
"Anders might come," she finally said. "My mother is a gentle lady and won't have the stomach for it, but he fought, so he might be here."
"Oh," Petrice said as something new occurred to her, "the roughly three dozen figure does not include those who remain in the compound."
A cold chill shot down Caitlyn's spine. As she looked sharply at the priest, she realized that this was news to Aveline as well—and news that the Captain did not particularly like. "They didn't fight," she said, an edge to her voice. "They did not take up arms against the city or slay anyone."
Petrice shook her head. "They are Qunari. They are heretics who conspired with those who did take up arms against the city."
"Grand Cleric," she said coolly, "the ones who will be put to death... what is their crime? What are they being executed for, murder and treason, or heresy? Heresy is not a capital offense here anyway. This isn't Tantervale."
Petrice narrowed her gaze at Caitlyn. "Point taken," she said, "but what would you do? Let them go? They have lived in the city for three years. They know a lot about Kirkwall—and the late Viscount's son is among them. Do you intend to turn him loose among the Qunari?"
"He is a youth," she said. "I will not condone the execution of a boy barely out of childhood who didn't kill or take up arms against anyone. I won't do it."
"Then what do you think should be done with him? Your choices are to let him go with the Qunari, someone with intimate knowledge of the Viscount's Keep... to take him away from them and give him to someone else, who might position him as a pretender to challenge you later... or to end both threats now."
Caitlyn felt sick. Petrice's logic was cold-blooded and ruthless, but she could not find true fault with it. However, her moral center revolted against the idea of killing Saemus Dumar and the other Qunari who had not taken part in the attack.
"The rightful ruler of Kirkwall is the one who is chosen by majority vote in an official moot of the titled lords and ladies of the city when the position becomes vacant," she said carefully. "If the child of a previous ruler is passed over, that's the end of it for as long as the new ruler lives. No family has held the seat for two successive generations in a while, in fact, but the nobles have accepted the rule of the one sitting on the seat—or discussed ways of removing him lawfully."
"So you are actually intending to..."
She took a breath and squared her shoulders. "I will give my consent to doing justice upon the Qunari who participated in the attack. I will not approve killing the ones who didn't. They go home—in the dead of night, secretly, if there is too much bloodlust among Kirkwall's people right now to do it openly."
Petrice sputtered in amazement. "Saemus Dumar lived in the Keep! He knows its secrets, and you are sending him back to the two remaining Qunari heads of state after you personally killed the third?"
Caitlyn realized Petrice's unsaid concern: war. "The Keep can be changed. We can add new protections, especially a pair of mages. Anyway, Saemus was a little idiot who liked to mingle with the Qunari, not spend time in the Keep. I doubt he knows much. And sending back the noncombatants might forestall the full-scale war you are afraid of. Besides, they're still in a war with Tevinter. They can't pull back from that to launch a major offensive against us."
"It wouldn't require a major offensive! This was a small force, but you saw what they did to Lowtown!"
"The Arishok himself accepted my challenge. He wouldn't have done that if the Qun didn't permit it. I think they will honor the outcome of that duel... if we act justly with the prisoners who didn't take part in the attack."
Petrice heaved her breath in exasperation. "Hawke... I see that you are not going to budge on this, but I hope that you realize soon that you cannot be this softhearted with everyone."
"You think I am softhearted?" she said.
A narrow smile formed on the priest's face. "Fair enough. It will be as you say... this time. But you do need to think about what I said."
Anders was conflicted. He was visibly troubled by the idea of a mass execution, but another part of him seemed inclined to justify it—the Justice-Vengeance part? Caitlyn wondered.
"I will go with you to support you," he finally said. "I don't know exactly what I think of this... but even if I were absolutely set against it, it's my duty to be there for you so that you don't have to be alone, watching that bloodthirsty crowd cheering as the arrows fly."
She leaned against him. "I don't know what I think of it either," she said. "I gave my consent because I see the justice of it... but is it justice? We could just imprison them. Merely thirty-odd prisoners, what difference does it make? This seems like vengeance to me." She gave him a dark smile. "What's your expert opinion?"
He held her tightly with one arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm coming to think that the two ideas are one and the same—that we consider it justice when we do it and vengeance when someone else does it against us, and that's the only 'difference.'"
That seemed dark to Caitlyn, but at this moment, she could not argue with that either.
"So... I may not like the act any more than you do... but when I think of what they would have done to you, or to Mal..." He trailed off darkly. "I'd do it to them myself, with my own hand, if that had happened."
"I had the same thought," she said quietly.
That evening at sundown.
The bereaved families were lined up in front of a shouting crowd, holding each other and gazing fiercely at the assembled prisoners. The Qunari stood silently, stoically, awaiting their fate as the archers of the Kirkwall Guard lined up and pointed their crossbows at them.
Caitlyn turned aside, focusing on Anders instead of the unfolding execution. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. Thirty-odd more lives, she thought again. The diadem of Kirkwall already drips with blood. Will there be more to come? And when I approved this, was it truly because I saw the justice of it, or was it because I was afraid of going against that angry crowd and losing the city's support?
Several of the crowd jeered and raised their lit torches as the sun set, casting a pall of shadow on the city. Beside Caitlyn and Anders stood Petrice, Cullen, and Aveline. Aveline turned to the archers and gave the order.
Caitlyn closed her eyes as the crossbow mechanisms clicked and the bolts struck flesh.
A gap opened up between Caitlyn and the priest after that. Petrice was not present when Caitlyn, Anders, and Aveline arranged for the secret release of the noncombatant Qunari into a small ship. She did not send messengers to the Hawke house over the next few days, even after Isabela deposited several sacks of gold into the Kirkwall treasury and vanished that night with Fenris. As the date of the scheduled party at Chateau Haine approached, Caitlyn realized that something needed to be done, because they did not need to become foes.
I wasn't wrong about showing mercy to the ones who didn't do anything, she thought resolutely, but this isn't good. What should I do, though? She already thinks I was "softhearted." If I make concessions to her now...
The answer came unexpectedly one morning a few weeks after the violent events. A messenger at last came to the house, bearing the message that Caitlyn, Anders, and Mal might want to be present for a presentation at the Gallows.
"Is she going to announce Circle changes, I wonder?" Anders mused as he got Mal ready.
"You know, I think she might," Caitlyn said. A smile formed on her face. "Maybe she actually realizes that she needs to seal the breach herself."
"She promised us," he pointed out. "She is just delivering on what she said she would do... if that's what this is."
When they reached the Gallows, it became clear at once that this was indeed what was going on. Ser Cullen and Ser Agatha stood beside First Enchanter Orsino, who looked pleased, and to the other side, in a crowd of Templars and mages who had gathered, Ser Thrask gave the family a smile of recognition.
"Many people of this city witnessed mages using their magic to serve man and defend their Maker the night that the Qunari attacked," Petrice intoned. "The titled folk witnessed, and by now everyone has heard, how Champion Hawke revealed herself as a mage, risking her life to defeat the Qunari Arishok and free the city of his grip. These actions merit reward, and the acknowledgment that of all the threats to Kirkwall, well-trained mages with proper moral foundations are not one of those threats."
Scattered applause filled the air from the assembled people. The crowd that had gathered for this announcement was not as large as the one that had come for the mass execution, Caitlyn noted somberly and cynically.
"The first institution of the Maker is the family, and it is wrong to tear that institution down without just cause. Henceforth, in Kirkwall, mages of the Circle will be permitted visitors, letters, and scheduled visits outside the Circle quarters with their family and friends."
It's a start, thought Caitlyn as she glanced at Anders and Mal. They should be able to live family lives like we have, but this is a beginning. Next we need to get the policy of separating siblings into different Circles changed...
"In addition, it is wrong that those accused of the vilest of crimes have the right to a trial, but mages accused of anything do not. This too will now be different: They will be tried before a panel of unbiased priests, not subjected to summary execution behind locked doors at the whim of one person."
Anders smiled, though Caitlyn knew he wanted more.
"The so-called Rite of Tranquility will no longer be practiced in the Kirkwall Circle from this day forward. Mages who pose risks to others will be confined by wards and other means, and those who are convicted of capital crimes shall suffer the same penalty as a non-mage in that situation. They too will have the opportunity to seek absolution with their Maker before they go to Him, if they so choose, and will not have that denied by men."
Caitlyn and Anders actually burst into applause at this announcement. This was the clearest, most unambiguous victory so far—a blanket, unconditional ban, not a halfway measure.
"And finally... the change that is likely to affect the general population the most, and the reason why I made these announcements publicly. As you may have witnessed during the Qunari attack, mages fighting in combat made a significant difference. They burst into the Keep, enabling our forces to save those who could still be saved and empowering your Champion to challenge and defeat the Arishok. You have also, perhaps, known of the good that Warden Anders has done as a Healer. Circle mages who have passed their Harrowings will now have the opportunity to offer free healing inside the Chantry, or to aid the City Guard as auxiliaries if that is where their talents lie. You will have nothing to fear from those who fight beside your guards, people of Kirkwall. The requirements will be just as stringent for mage auxiliaries as they are for official guardsmen and women."
"That's less confidence-inspiring than it should be," Caitlyn muttered wryly to Anders.
He laughed darkly. "I'm going to wager that the mages who do that will acquit themselves much better than the assorted corrupt guards and rapists who slithered in."
"I'm sure you're right!"
Mal looked up at his parents. "This is just a start, isn't it?" He was worried. "There will be more, won't there?"
She smiled and gave him a squeeze. "Oh, yes, there will be much more. But sometimes people have to start with small changes and work their way up to bigger ones."
Anders broke his gaze with hers and stared ahead into the distance. Caitlyn knew that he disagreed philosophically with that; his view was that it was better to ask for everything at once than to be satisfied with incrementalism. He had a point... but the fact was, she wasn't satisfied with what Petrice had announced today. He knows that, she thought. He knows that I won't settle for this.
She met the priest's gaze and gave her a smile and a brief nod, hoping to send the message that they were on the same team again. She knew very well that she and Anders cared about mages a lot more than Petrice did, and Anders was right that this was just the priest upholding her end of an existing bargain. Petrice had gotten what she wanted—the Qunari gone and herself as Grand Cleric—and now it was time for her to give her allies what they wanted, but at the same time, it did feel to Caitlyn like an olive branch.
In retrospect, Caitlyn supposed she should have known that the period of peace would not last. The very day after Petrice announced her Circle reforms, the day before she and her family planned to make the trip to Chateau Haine, a piece of very unwelcome news reached Kirkwall.
Caitlyn stormed into the house furiously after learning what had happened. "The Orlesians reinstated her!" she burst out. "The Knight-Vigilant, one Knight-Divine, and even the Lady Seeker agreed with her and overruled Petrice's order! They claimed that she had a 'lengthy and honorable history serving Kirkwall' and that a new Grand Cleric should not discount that."
Baldwin rose to his feet and barked in disapproval of whatever had so upset his mistress. Leandra, Anders, and Mal all looked up at her, as did the cat.
"I wish I could say that surprised me," Anders said. He held out an unopened letter. "Here—this came for you while you were out. I didn't read it. I wondered what it could mean, but I suspect, now, that it's about this..."
Cooling off slightly, she accepted the note. It bore the seal of the sunburst Chantry symbol and was from "Sister Nightingale." "This is most likely an explanation of why Divine Justinia didn't overrule them," she said with a dark glower as she popped the seal and flounced into a chair to read it. "This had better be good. I'd like to know that myself! I thought she was with us!"
Anders shook his head dourly, clearly unsurprised by any perfidy from a Chantry source. Caitlyn began to read the letter from Leliana.
.
Caitlyn and Warden Anders,
By now you have likely heard, or soon will hear, the news from Val Royeaux. The Knight-Vigilant, Lady Seeker, and other highly placed Templars supported Meredith Stannard's appeal and voided the new Grand Cleric's dismissal order.
I am sure you are wondering why Justinia didn't uphold it. Please, I beg of you, do not lose faith. She disapproved of the Templars' and Seeker's decision, but she is still trying to work out how deep in Templar and Seeker ranks the rebellion against reform goes before taking a provocative action. Despite their support of Meredith, Justinia is not even certain if any of these are part of the covert rebellion or if they are merely acting out of their own sincere, if misguided, convictions. You must understand that Meredith apparently has great respect from within the Templar hierarchy, whereas Petrice is a comparatively new priest, let alone Grand Cleric. It is possible that any or all of these people are plotting against Justinia and other reform supporters, but she does not know for certain.
A harsh measure could endanger the Divine's life—and given how many opponents of reform hold high positions in the Chantry, this is a risk that she does not want to take. If she were to die prematurely, all hope of reform might end for the rest of this age. This is why she permitted the overturning to stand. She thinks that for the time being, until we can determine the extent of the defiance and neutralize it, it is better for you and your allies to diminish Meredith's authority in other ways. The Grand Cleric has the authority to decree changes herself, whether the Knight-Commander approves or no.
I will keep in contact with you about all pertinent developments. Maker preserve you.
Leliana
.
Caitlyn heaved a sigh, deflated, as she passed the note to Anders. She rubbed her eyes. What can I say against that? she thought. That makes perfect sense. I would rather deal with Meredith this way than lose Justinia.
Anders sighed as well, setting the note on the nearest side table. He was seated beside Mal, whom he pulled close in a hug.
"Is it all right?" the boy asked, looking up at his father. "They're not... coming for me, are they?"
Caitlyn cried out. He is still too young to think of that! All right... he's not... although his memories of not having his father are vague now, he knows, now, why Anders was taken from him before he was born. He knows. And he knows it could be him now. But he's too young! He shouldn't have to think about that—
Anders was speaking hurriedly in reply. "No," he said emphatically. "They are not. Your secret is still a secret, and by the time it isn't anymore, your mother and I will have made certain that no one can ever take mage children from their parents!"
Caitlyn was already on her feet, hurrying to his side. She got on her knees before Mal. "I promise you," she said seriously, "that will never, ever happen to you."
Notes: Regarding the mass execution. One, I expect I'm softer toward Petrice than probably 95% of Dragon Age fandom, but I try not to forget what she is. And two, I don't go for stories in which nothing dark or bad happens because of the sheer awesomeness of the infinitely wise and foreseeing protagonist. You know the sort, the ones who set everyone right with no unexpected (or, in this case, 100% predictable) consequences and experience no resistance that requires them to do things that challenge their morals and ethics. This AU is pretty clearly a fix-it, but it is not that sort of fix-it, because Caitlyn and Anders are not that sort of character.
