9: Exotic Wonders

Given how awkward last night had been, Beau thought Anders would back out of the excursion to Sundermount after the incident at the clinic, and the tension between them during Aveline's job. She had been wrong. He had met her and her companions just outside the city, looking relatively unruffled.

"Good, the gang's all here," Varric said when nobody else spoke, rubbing his hands together as he looked back and forth between the healer and Hawke, wondering exactly what was going on. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, handle business now, and then badger Hawke about it later, he began making the introductions between those who didn't know each other.

"Mages. You travel with mages," Fenris said flatly, not bothering to hide the derision in his tone as he surveyed Bethany and Anders, taking in their robes and the staffs they carried. "Is that wise, Hawke?"

"Probably not, they'll very likely turn into abominations and kill us all in our sleep." She replied in the most cheerful tone of voice she could muster. Her eyes grew cold when he simply stared at her with a firm, grim mouth and a heated gaze. "I trust them both completely. Bethany has proven herself a hundred times over and Anders is a skilled healer."

"I… see…"

"Can you work with them or will we have a problem?"

"I will… watch them."

That was probably the best she was going to get from him and nodded. She'd take it.

"All that tension and none of it sexual… what a shame."

Beau and Fenris simultaneously turned to stare at Isabela, who simply smiled at them and threw a roguish wink at Bethany. Bethany blushed three shades of crimson.

"All right people, onto Sundermount," Beau announced, sparing Bethany further embarrassment when it seemed like Isabela might continue. "I'll not ask any of you to come if you don't want too, this is something I do not-"

"Oh, shut up Hawke, we're coming," Varric interrupted with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Don't try to be noble, it doesn't suit you and we're all here anyway. We'll come and help you find the Dalish."

"Find the Dalish?" Isabela studied the sisters intently. "Why are we finding the Dalish?"

Bethany hesitated, wondering just how much to say and glanced timidly at Fenris who eyed Anders with obvious dislike. It seemed that Anders was returning the look with interest. "We have a debt to repay." She answered finally.

"Oh really? To the Dalish? That is-"

"None of your business, we're going now." Beau interrupted, doing her best to avoid thinking of the woman, the witch, they were doing this for. Flemeth. Asha-bellanar, whoever she was, had been a lingering thought always on the forefront of her mind and Beau had hoped she would never cross paths with the old woman again once this was done. While Flemeth had been extremely helpful in saving them and then aiding them to Gwaren, for which Beau would be eternally grateful, there was something off about her.

Even Varric remained silent when he saw the look on her face.

"What's going on between you and Blondie?"

Purposefully ignoring Varric, Beau prodded the campfire a little too harshly with the stick she had picked up along the mountain path. Her vigorous prodding caused sparks to fly everywhere, including in her direction. Still avoiding his gaze, she looked across the fire to where Anders was sitting on the hard with Bethany alongside their newest acquisition to the group: Merrill.

Merrill was one of the Dalish, first to the Keeper and heir apparent to the position as well as their guide up the mountain. Apparently, they were supposed to give Asha'bellanar's amulet a funeral of sorts. Well, maybe not the heir apparent, she would have been if not for her desire to return to Kirkwall with them once they had finished with their task. She wouldn't give a reason why, just whispered that it was 'better this way'. Merrill was odd and said a lot of random things, Beau liked her.

Fenris didn't however, but since Merrill was a mage, the dislike was a given. Thinking of Fenris, Beau focused her stare on the elf, unsurprised to find him sitting by himself or at least trying too. Isabela was sitting a few feet from him, drinking from a flask and trying to lure him into conversation. She was being less than successful at it but not giving up, Beau had to give her credit.

"Well?" Varric prodded, drawing her attention back to him. He was patient and she couldn't avoid it forever.

"Nothing."

"It might make you feel better to talk about it."

"Varric, you are not going to turn my love life or lack thereof into one of your horrid romance novels so stop needling me."

"Why Hawke, I would never needle." He protested, letting her think he was dropping it. He waited until she appeared to relax. "So, you admit there might be love in the mix?"

She was going to strangle him and actually moved to do so, motivated even more when she began laughing at her. What stopped her was the fact that Anders was now watching them curiously. Blushing, she moved back to her seat and just settled for glowering at the dwarf.

He winked at her.

Getting to the stop of Sundermount was proving to be much more difficult than Beau had anticipated. Flemeth, or Asha-bellanar as she was coming to think of the old woman as thanks in part to the Dalish and Merrill, had said something along the lines of 'about as much trouble as my saving you was', and personally, Beau considered that an exaggeration. The hag had turned into a dragon and flamed the darkspawn, easy as pie.

The ability to breathe flames would have been really useful right about now. Not for darkspawn but for all the damn undead things they were encountering. There were lots of skeletons, some shadowy things, and other things that she didn't know the names of. The perk was that there were no wild animals to be found. Not unless one counted the damn spiders that were as big as people and she wasn't.

After emerging from a cave where they had fought their way through a tide of spiders, skeletons, and shades they came to what seemed like an abrupt stop. Blocking their way was a shimmery wall of air and since it was obviously magical, Beau instinctively looked to her sister for help. None came because Bethany looked just as confounded as her.

"Magic," Fenris growled, not overly pleased. "More magic." He gave the mages one of his stares of disapproval. The only mage who didn't scowl back was Merrill, she wasn't paying him any attention. Instead, she was approaching the barrier.

"I can get us through," she announced quietly, after a moment's hesitation.

"Goodie," Isabela's sarcasm was laced with uncertainty as she shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around cautiously. This entire place felt wrong.

Folding her arms over her chest, Beau stepped back to watch, sharing a quick look with her sister.

They all took startled steps backward when Merrill suddenly procured a knife and slashed it across the palm of her hand, the blood hurling against the barrier as she flung her arm forward. The barrier dissolved, leaving the way free and a group of people staring at the elven mage with various expressions of disgust, astonishment, and fear.

Slowly, Merrill turned to face them, an almost resigned expression on her face.

Fenris, naturally, was the first to break the silence. His head was shaking, a lock of his white hair swaying over his eyes. "Blood magic? Foolish, very foolish."

Merrill took a deep breath, holding out her hands in a pleading gesture, unminding of the fact that one was still bleeding and drawing attention to what she had just done. "Yes, it was blood magic, but I know what I'm doing. The spirit helped us, didn't it?"

Anders was eyeing her hands with disgust and an expression that clearly told Beau he had no intention of healing it. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Beau approached the elf, trying her best not to show what she was feeling. Mostly, it was confusion and a tad pinch of fear. She had a healthy respect for blood magic, thanks to her father and Bethany both being mages and knowing what blood magic could do to a mage. Namely, it turned them into abominations. "They don't keep helping, Merrill," she said gently. "They tend to stop around the point where they take over your mind and turn you into a monster."

Bethany groaned when the sarcasm seeped into her sister's voice.

Merrill got defensive at that, openly bristling while binding a strip of cloth around her injured hand. "Well yes, but that isn't going to happen to me. I know how to defend myself."

"I'm sure that's what all the other idiots who dabbled in blood magic thought," Anders snorted, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"I'm with Blondie on that one."

"Not now, Varric!" Beau wheeled around exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air. "Let's… we'll talk about this later. Let's just get this over and done with."

Nodding, Merrill took the lead again. "Be careful ahead, restless things prowl the heights," she cautioned. She stopped at the top of the hill they were about to descend, the view allowing them to see that they were entering what looked to be an ancient graveyard. She didn't glance up when Beau stood beside her. "In the days of Arlathan, the elders came here to sleep. The endless dream they called it."

Thunder rolled ominously in the distance.

"But they don't sleep peacefully anymore."

The alter was beyond the graveyard, which had been another mini-war zone to get thru and they all came out with some injury or another from it. Beau had taken one look at the alter and then dropped down onto the cold, damp ground. What Anders had called an 'Arcane Horror' had hit her with some sort of exhaustion spell and she was more than feeling it.

"Here…"

She felt Ander's hand on her shoulder and a moment later the familiar warmth of his magic pouring into her. "Thank you," she murmured, strength flooding her limbs again, enough to make her pull herself upright. She turned to him and frowned. "Anders…." He looked like crap.

"I'm fine, I'll be all right," he waved aside her concern, taking a step back. "Can't have our fearless leader on the ground though, can we?"

His smile was almost the normal one he gave her, slightly crooked, and charming, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course not," she sighed, giving her attention back to the alter. It was set at the edge of a precipice that overlooked the valley below, including the Dalish encampment, and it was surrounded by a slight stone wall. It was simple in construction, made of stone, but the most remarkable thing was the fact that a small urn of blue fire sat blazing in the center, the wind now blowing it out as one would think.

"This is it," Merrill announced. "Give me the amulet."

Beau reached down to the pouch at her waist and fumbled in it for the amulet, passing it over silently. She watched as Merrill placed it in front of the urn before stepping back, raising her thin arms slightly. She began speaking in Elvish, saying things Beau couldn't understand, nor did she try to. She focused on the fact that the wind was picking up. The second Merrill finished whatever she was saying, light emanated from the amulet, shaping itself into the form of a woman.

Asha'bellanar. Flemeth. Witch.

"Ah, and here we are."

She sounded exactly the same too.

"A witch!"

"It's all right Fenris," Merrill said quickly. "She means us no harm."

"You hope." Isabela muttered.

While Merrill and Flemeth exchanged what might be tentatively called pleasantries, Beau was doing a quick check on the group to gauge reactions. When she turned back around, the witch was quite close to her, causing Beau to almost take a step away.

"It's refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain," Flemeth said, her odd gold and somewhat green eyes boring holes into Isabeau. "I half expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket."

"All this time, I've been carrying you around in my pocket?" It was the only thing Beau could think of saying.

"Just a piece, a small piece, but it was all I needed," Flemeth hissed softly. "A bit of security should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has."

Beau had no idea what to say to that and even less an idea of who Morrigan was.

"You are no simple witch," Fenris said sternly, having recovered himself and he was out of range for anyone to physically quiet him.

"Figured that out yourself, did you?" The scorn was evident in Flementh's tone.

"I've seen powerful mages, spirits and abominations but you are none of those things. What are you?"

She was staring at him intently now, one gloved, clawed hand moving up to stroke her chin thoughtfully. "Such a curious lad… the chains are broken, but are you truly free?"

"You see a great deal."

She merely smiled a thin-lipped, amused smile, losing interest in him and turned back to Beau. "Destiny awaits us both, dear girl. We have much to do."

"We do?"

"Before I go, a word of advice?" Flemeth turned away from them, staring out over the altar. "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap."

Beau was alarmed when Flemeth glanced back, alarmed at the fierceness of the witch's eyes.

"It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

"You ready for this, Hawke?" Varric asked as she studied the maps Anders had provided them. Since coming back from Sundermount, she had thrown herself into preparing for the venture in terms of being ready and bringing in whatever extra coin she could to keep her family going while she was away. She had gone over supplies, the maps, and anything else to keep herself busy, and he was guessing away from home.

They had all been pleasantly surprised with Aveline's announcement of her upcoming promotion to captain of the guard within a few months, pending training and whatnot. Fenris had taken residence in the mansion his former master had left behind. Anders had been preparing Lirene for the influx of needy she was about to come into possession of and Isabela, well… she had been drinking and gambling, the usual.

Hawke had gone and meddled in other affairs when she ahd run out of expedition related affairs to worry over. She had gotten involved in a matter that had led her back to the Wounded Coast. One that had involved a Chantry sister and a mage qunari, that had wound up… weird and frustrating. The sister had obviously set them up and the qunari mage had immolated himself upon finding himself free. That had been… weird. Now she was busying herself with some templar thing. She had run into a young woman in Hightown who had been worrying over her templar recruit brother. Hawke's bleeding heart had gotten to her and she had dived into the matter, against Varric's counsel. She was waiting for night to fall before following a lead to the local whorehouse.

"Ready to get it done and over with."

"Just think, when we come back, you'll have what you desire."

"I know… we've been planning for so long and now we're nearly ready to go. It's odd is all," she said quietly, pushing away the half-finished mug of ale she had stopped pretending to care about a while ago. They were in Varric's quarters, as usual, and the sounds of merry making from the main rooms of the bar reached them quite well through the thin walls. "At least it won't be dull, eh?"

"My dear Hawke, I couldn't imagine anything being dull with you around," he chuckled, dipping his quill into a nearby inkpot, regarding her with interest. He had been badgering her for stories, writing them down, and had declared himself her official biographer because he simply knew she was destined for great things. If not, he would write that great destiny for her and to hell with what was true or not. "When you encountered that ogre, what were you thinking?"

"Mostly if the spit it kept aiming my way would ever wash out of my hair," she was used to his prying and smiled sweetly when he gave her one of his 'don't bullshit a master' looks. "Honestly? I was terrified, ogres are definitely in the top three of things that make me piss myself."

"We'll go with 'annoyed that it dared interrupt your grand escape'."

"Idunna the Exotic Wonder…" Beau couldn't keep the amusement from her voice, ignoring the exasperated look Viveka shot her as the hostess stormed away. She looked around the main room of the Blooming Rose, noting her dear uncle Gamlen was busy in his cups. How he could afford the drink was beyond her and it chaffed quite a bit, knowing she was out busting her tail to keep the household afloat and he was here drinking it all away most nights. "Sewer trash, anyone wants to wager?"

"That's disgusting, Beau," Bethany hissed, trying not to stare at the ample amount of flesh on display. "Let's just find her and get this over with." She was pleased to finally be allowed out of the house but why couldn't her sister ever do anything normal? Like drink and play cards?

"We could rent a room?" Beau suggested innocently, trying to hide her amusement when Bethany flushed. Bethany was still an innocent little virgin and while fun to tease, Beau preferred to keep it that way. Sex was fine, it was great, but… the emotional aspect could be damaging, and Bethany did have tender feelings. Speaking of sex… the idea of renting a 'room' didn't sound too bad and now she was looking around for entirely different reasons.

"Hawke," Anders was next to interrupt her musings, not sounding pleased. He hadn't missed the way her gaze had started wandering in a way that stirred embers of jealousy in him. "Idunna?"

He had shown up at the Hanged Man, looking odd in his only pair of pants and a faded, dirty tan shirt. He had said something about 'needing a drink' and wound up here with them. He wasn't as overly suspicious as he would have been in his robes, but the staff with the attached satchel did look odd. At least to her, not many people seemed to be giving him second looks. She found herself pleased and peeved with his irritation. Pleased he seemed to be jealous; peeved because he had shot her down before she had realized she had been asking. Right, Idunna."

When they found Idunna, it was obvious she was no exotic wonder, whatever her moniker claimed. Her accent was the worst of it though, it was so fake, and Beau had to wonder how those baby templars could stand it, especially if they repeated business. She was also trying to bullshit her way out of being questioned and Beau was giving serious thought to just slapping the piss out of her for it.

"Talking… is boring…" Idunna said, thwarting Beau's next attempt at 'tell me about the templars', easing herself onto the edge of the bed and patting it. "Why don't we have some real fun?"

"She's right, Beau," Bethany said, sounding odd. "Why don't we wait for a bit?"

"You should listen to your friend."

"What is wrong with you, Bethie? We need to ask her about Keeran," had everyone but her lost their minds? Even Varric and Anders were gaping at Idunna now.

"You're so bossy, Beau, really."

"Look, I'm here on official business and I want to know about Wilmod and Keeran, now." Beau was going to have to ignore her companions for now and slap them all for being witless wonders later.

"Answer a question of mine, first," Idunna said, her voice slithery, though it was beginning to lean towards slithery silk opposed to the snake Beau had been comparing her to. "Who told you about me?"

For the life of her, Beau tried to shoot off a quip about it being none of the whore's business but her tongue wasn't her own. She could feel it working, hear the words coming from her mouth, but it wasn't actually her. She had always had healthy respect towards magic and had been on the receiving end of some not so fun spells, but this was new.

"Viveka sold me out…" Idunna stood up, walking calmly until she was face to face with Beau. "She will be dealt with but first… just do one more thing for me."

Beau felt herself nodding slowly.

"Draw your blade and bring it gently across your throat."