Thank you for reading!
Ah, it was good to be back in Kirkwall, Varric reflected. To feel the cobblestones under his boots, to hear the squabbling voices of the merchants in the Lowtown market, to smell the stale ale of the Hanged Man.
And no stuffy Orlesians, either. Although he had to admit his current situation—stuck walking with Aveline—wasn't much better. He liked Aveline well enough, and respected her work keeping the streets of Kirkwall safe, but she was a bit on the forceful side, and she liked to know everything. Since Varric was a man who liked people to know little, if anything, about him, the two of them often butted heads as he tried to deflect her questions.
"Varric," she said abruptly, breaking into several blissful minutes of silence. "Are you safe?"
"A loaded question."
"I mean, all these nefarious schemes you seem to be involved in. Don't you worry about the consequences?"
"You mean, officially?" He chuckled. "I tell you what, Aveline, if I ever decide to get caught, you'll be the guard I'll let catch me."
"'Let' catch you?" she echoed sharply.
"But 'decide to get caught' didn't trip you up. Good to know."
Aveline shook her head. "You're impossible."
"I prefer 'incorrigible'."
Up ahead, Hawke and Daisy were just reaching the ferry to the Gallows, Hawke's head inclined toward the shorter elf, listening to whatever she was prattling on about. Varric's eyes rested on Hawke's shining black hair for a moment, remembering what it had been like to run his fingers through it. He usually tried to avoid thoughts like that—too painful, and too tempting, and too out of his reach—but the sun was bright and he was home and his usual control had slipped a bit.
"Why are you still here?" Aveline asked abruptly.
He looked up, alarmed, and saw that she had seen where his gaze had traveled. "Starkhaven's too pretentious for me and Cumberland's too boring," he said glibly … and was not surprised when she didn't buy it.
"You always say you hate commitment," Aveline mused, "but here you are, still at Hawke's side."
"Aveline, I thought you'd have noticed by now … I lie a lot."
"Mm-hm." Her green eyes were unusually soft as she looked at him. "You should tell the truth someday."
"Which truth?"
"About the crossbow, for starters. Why won't you explain about her name?"
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "There was a girl, and … I made a promise. Bianca is the only story I can never tell."
Aveline looked ahead. Hawke had turned around and was watching them approach. "I doubt that," Aveline said gently.
"Then let's leave it at that, shall we?"
"For now," she said. "For now."
The ferry took the four of them across to the Gallows. Daisy ran off as soon as they got there, looking for Solivitus, the herbalist, with whom she had been working closely recently.
To Varric's surprise, the first person they ran into was Blondie, to Hawke's evident concern and Aveline's equally evident displeasure.
"Anders, what are you doing here? This is not a safe place for you."
"How will I know what's happening to my people if I'm not here to see it?" He watched with disapproval as a Tranquil mage walked past them. "Things like that. I need to know how often they're happening."
Aveline scowled at Anders' earnestness. Hawke put a hand on her arm to forestall any further comments. "Why don't you come with us, Anders? We're going to see the Knight-Commander."
Neither Varric or Aveline seemed to think that was a good idea … but Hawke wasn't sure she'd mind if Anders made a scene in the Knight-Commander's office. The situation was going to have to come to a head eventually, might as well be now as any other time.
She smiled at Knight-Lieutenant Cullen, who was a nice enough man, if a bit over-enthusiastic on the subject of mages and Templars. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Champion. You look well."
"Cullen. Same to you. We're here to see Meredith."
"Yes, by her invitation, I understand. You may pass freely in that circumstance."
"You have a good sense of how things are going here—do you think the Grand Cleric will take sides?"
He straightened. "She is bound by faith and duty to support the Templars. We have dominance over mages by Divine Right."
Behind her, Hawke could feel Anders taking a breath to speak, and Varric grasping his wrist to keep him from doing so.
"But it is cruel how the Grand Cleric leads the mages on," Cullen continued thoughtfully, "letting them think they might have a chance at rebellion."
"If the mages rose—"
"It would be bad for all of us," Hawke said smoothly, cutting off whatever Anders might have been about to say. "I hear the Knight-Commander has gone crazy," she added. "Are you still behind her?"
Cullen's mouth tightened. "The people ask too much of her. She needs a spine of iron to survive her position. I … I have seen madness. I saw Uldred's eyes when there was nothing human left in there." His voice was raw. Whatever he was alluding to, the memory was very real to him. "The Knight-Commander … she isn't the same. But—I do not have to ask where the rumors come from."
"Good day, Cullen." Hawke wished she could say something to ease his obvious concerns. But she shared them—Meredith's hold on Kirkwall was tight, and she seemed to govern largely by hysteria. Eventually that would come to haunt them all.
As they made their way toward Meredith's office, Anders said acidly to Aveline, "I suppose you're just thrilled that the Knight-Commander has basically stepped into the Viscount's seat."
She sighed. "She can't stall the process forever. It's not her place. Leaving the Viscount's seat empty will just tempt people to fight for it. It will cause more trouble than it prevents."
Anders looked at her in surprise. "Well. You've got a brain in there after all. And here I thought that headband was there to keep it from falling out."
Aveline rolled her eyes. "I also have a fist, if you'd like me to demonstrate that, as well."
Smiling his old charming grin, Anders said, "Another time, perhaps. You might need it for someone else before this day is through."
Hawke was relieved when they were finally brought into Meredith's office. She'd be even more relieved if they got out of here without Anders shooting his mouth off. She wasn't totally opposed to playing with fire ... but she'd rather not get burned, either.
Meredith, unsurprisingly, had called on Hawke to do her job for her: She wanted Hawke to track down three missing apostates, whom Meredith, naturally, suspected of being blood mages. On the theory that they were more likely to be returned safely if she went after them than if the Templars did, Hawke accepted the job.
Raising her eyebrows in surprise at the easy acquiescence, Meredith said, "I am relieved, I admit, Champion. I was expecting more resistance, after that debacle in the market."
Hawke shrugged. "What can I say, I have a light schedule the next few days."
"Your devotion to your duty does you credit," Meredith said dryly.
She pointed them to her assistant, another Tranquil, for the details. The assistant filled them in, continually referring to the escaped mages as 'blood mages'. Hawke asked her why.
In her toneless, disinterested voice, the assistant said, "The Knight-Commander tends to assume all apostates practice blood magic. She prefers to err on the side of caution."
"She flaunts what she can do to mages," Anders spat. "She likes to rub our faces in it."
The assistant looked at him without curiosity. "She does her job."
His indignation couldn't stand against the tragedy of what had been done to the woman before him. Ducking his head, he hurried out of the room. Thanking the assistant, Hawke followed him, Aveline and Varric behind her.
Outside, she found Anders braced against a pillar, his face working as he attempted to keep control of himself. "This is what we're up against, Hawke—people who think we're all blood mages, who want to take away everything that makes us human."
"I know." Many of her nightmares involved Bethany with that sunburst on her forehead. "But antagonizing them isn't the way."
"You're right," he said unexpectedly. "Our response must be bigger."
And he walked off, leaving Hawke to watch him and worry about what he might decide was a big enough response.