Hightown, Kirkwall, Month 2 - Guardian, 9:32 of the Dragon Age.
Carver caught up with Lineatus at the Hanged Man. They headed to Hightown when Lineatus informed Carver that he overheard several people speaking of an expedition. This was what they needed to break free from Meeran and the constant complaints of their uncle.
"This is it. We just have to speak with him before anyone else. A dwarf named Bartrand, in Hightown. With luck on our side, we can lend our service."
"Then we could buy the Amell estate for mother." Carver was ready to go that instant.
Hawke patted his younger brother's shoulder with a smile. Hawke only stepped foot in Hightown when he had to run an errand for Meeran, and only at night. They crowded Hightown in the early hours, busy people were going about their business. Seeing a sign to the Markets, Hawke figured that was a better place to start. Merchants knew everyone.
If any indication from the main thoroughfare bustle, the market was much worse. Today seemed exceptionally crowded. The square bursting with chatter.
"Excuse me, Bartrand?" Hawke politely asked a woman passing him. She pointed behind her to the back of the square. Tapping Carver to follow, they waded through the crowd, ducking and dodging the array of carpet rolls, and fabric bolts, clucking chickens, and acrobatic performers. Hawke turned to make sure Carver was close when he faced forwards once more, his face met a heavily wrapped bundle that hurt more than he could imagine. Stumbling, he fell forward into a crowd. Holding his nose, Carver lost sight of Lineatus dodging the large sack.
A crowd of women gasped and shrieked at the pawer that had fallen into them. The sound of the once striking anvil stopped. "Excuse me, ladies." The sound of swooning mingled with tittering.
That voice, Hawke heard that voice before. Opening one eye, he sat up, checking his nose for bleeding. Snapped his eyes shut. It was much too bright out. His head hurt. "Are you well? Here on your feet." Certain he knew that voice. Hawke felt taken by his elbow, being guided further into the stall.
"Careful, that is not something you would enjoy walking into."
Steering him around what felt to be the hot forge.
"Lineatus?" Hawke could hear his name over the din of everything.
"Here!" Hawke called out, wincing in pain. His head felt it would split in two. "Carver." he called to his brother, his voice could not carry he was sure his head was splitting.
His head swiveled as he was being led by his chin. A hiss of disapproval. When he opened his eyes, messy wet strands of white-blond hair, a pair of playful blue, ' No… green. No?' eyes greeted him.
"Lineatus?"
Hawke nodded.
"And Carver?" The man raised an eyebrow.
Hawke nodded slowly his head throbbing again.
"Hold your head down, not up."
Hawke did as instructed, handed a clean cloth. He saw a pair of well-tailored worn black boots leave.
"Carver, here." The man called, his tone lighter than… Hawke mentally shook his thoughts free.
"Thanks. Brother, are you well? What happened?" Thanking the tall man, he pointed to where his brother sat.
Hawkes' face hurt. He gestured to his face and made motions that something smashing his face.
"You want me to find where Bartrand is?"
"Yeah. I'll join you in a moment." Hawke winced as he touched the bridge of his nose. It was definitely tender to the touch. His eyes may have gained color. He sighed in thought. He felt he was having the shittiest luck. From the near throng of people in the market square to Carver never finding Bartrand alone.
"I will go, just rest here. Be back." Carver went to leave, then halted by the Blacksmith.
"I know where he is. Just a moment." The blond man walked to the front of the market stall. "Ladies, if you please. I must see to their needs. I will return in an hour?" You could hear the mischief in his voice.
The women pouted, humming displeasures before they dispersed. The man drew a curtain to shield where he stood. A basin he turned to, waving his hand over it. Water appeared. The blacksmith scooped the water, splashing his face and hair. Several droplets landed on the burning coals behind him with a hiss. He splashed the water over his chest, drops trailing in a race down his taut, lean, toned abdomen. Hawke looked away, feeling his face fever. Moving the cloth from his nose, Carver hissed.
"Brother, your nose looks broken." He drew back, shaking his head.
"Here, let me." Coming before Hawke squatted, looking his face over. Taking his hand, he apologized if his touch was rough, running his strong fingers along the sides of Lineatus' nose felt it displaced. "This will only hurt for a…" with a quick gesture snapped his nose back in place.
Before Hawke could grunt at the pain, a cool sensation replaced the pain quickly. 'He is a mage.'
"How did you do that?" Carver asked, amazed.
The man chuckled, patting Hawke on his arm, and stood to grab a fresh tunic. "From my home. Okhor, by the way. Okhor Swiftleaf."
"Swiftleaf!?" the brothers shouted.
"Aye." Okhor pulled a fresh tunic over his head, raking his hair back from his face. "You, you know my Elder brother, An, pardon. Ikal'antulien." His smile was bright. "Though he lost to us some years ago." Okhor nodded. "Come, we should find Bartrand."
"Brother, Swiftleaf, I thought…" Carver shook his head. "We are in luck. One, no, both to save us!" Carver was giddy, slapping his brother's shoulder as he hurried behind Okhor.
Hawke was astounded. What are the chances that he could run into the brother of his savior? A knot wriggled in his stomach.
"You coming?" Okhor popped his head back in to see Lineatus still sitting where he left him. "Are you in any pain?"
"No, no, here I am." Hawke trotted to catch up.
They walked for a while and the crowd seemed to part as Okhor led them to the other side of the large market to the Drawven merchant's section. "There he is, a moment. Bartrand!" Okhor greeted the Dwarf.
"No!"
"I have yet to say anything." Okhor's arms extended out guiltless.
"It is always something with you. What do you want? I'm a busy man." He was checking over various crates and supplies he had around him.
"I have some fellows looking for you. You owe them coin?" Okhor jest.
"Bah, go away elf, take whoever you brought with you."
'Elf? He is as tall as Lord Swiftleaf.' Hawke had never considered Ser Kal'an to be an elf, though he couldn't have been sure. Their ears were smaller than the elves he is used to seeing. None of the elves he had met were as tall or as muscular as Okhor. The man's ear was also adorned with the same golden hoop.
Another Lord Swiftleaf. He corrected himself. "Why would a Lord be working in Hightown as a blacksmith?"
Thoughts cut with Okhor's voice feigned a poor attempt at a whisper. "Bartrand will speak with you now." Okhor left quickly as Bartrand cursed and grumbled.
"What?" Seeing he had little choice with the two men, Okhor dropped before him.
"I heard you are set for an expedition to the Deep Roads. We would like to accompany you." Swallowing, he stood tall, to look imposing. Nudging Carver to do so as well.
Bartrand took his eyes from his stock to look at the two standing awaiting an answer. "No."
Deflated, Carver and Hawke looked at each other, stunned. The Dwarf tossed his papers to his assistant before walking off.
"Why, no?"
"Andraste's tits, do you know how many want to hire into this expedition?"
"No, but what is one or two more pairs of hands? You will need all the help you can…"
"No. We are full up. This is the sort of venture that can set a man up for life. I am not about to waste it on a couple of random humans." Bartrand shook his head.
Not backing down or taking no as the definitive answer. "Then allow us to buy you a round. Everyone wins." Hawke flashed a smile.
Bartrand was having none of it. He shook his head again before turning his back to check the stock he had in this location. "Get in line then. Half of Kirkwall wants to be my best friend." Bartrand thought about it for a second. "Y'er looking for a quick way out of the slums, right?"
The brothers nodded.
"How long?"
"Two years." Carver answered.
Bartrand nodded. "You and every other Ferelden in this dump. Sorry kid, find another meal ticket." he tossed the stack of papers to his assistant and left the brothers standing there.
"Damnit!" Carver's jaw was tight. "What are we gonna do now? We have nothing to go on if Meeran contacts us. This expedition was our last chance." Carver sounded so defeated. He could not stand working for Meeran, Hawke could not agree more.
Running his hand over his face, he scratched at his scalp in thought, sighing he wasn't sure either. This was their last chance to get out of the rut they were in, even if it was bringing coin.
"We need coin, status, something to hide behind… Wait… Not something, someone! Brother, we could ask Lord Swiftleaf for help!" Slapping the back of his hand on Hawke's chest.
Hawke thought to ask Lord Swiftleaf for more, but he already provided them with the man they came looking for. He could not go back a second time. "No Carver, we cannot. He already extended his courtesy by leading us to Bartrand."
Carver sucked his teeth, kicking a random stone on the ground. Lineatus was right. It is improper to favor more than once in the same day. "We could talk to Uncle to see if he can help us with Bartrand?" Now Carver was pleading.
It irritated Hawke enough. "No! He is the reason we are stuck where we are now!" He barked at his brother.
Carver looked away, his head down. Hawke reached over and pulled him into a hug, patting his back. "We will get through this, I promise. Do I not keep my word?" Kissing the top of his brother's head released him.
Carver had to agree if it wasn't for their Uncle running debt the home, their mother was certain was waiting for them, would still be in their ownership. "It doesn't hurt to ask, though. What are we going to do?"
"Go for a drink. How about a place here? I don't see why we should squander such an opportunity." Hawke smiled, causing Carver to chuckle.
"Such an ass, brother." Carver snorted.
Hawke grinned. "Hey now, is that any way to speak to your older brother? Pardon." Someone bumped into him in the marginally smaller crowd. Something felt off. Hawke checked his hip. "Hey, get back here!" Hawke shouted in the direction of the boy who snatched his purse. Carver was right behind him. He saw what the boy looked like. Speeding past Hawke to pursue.
Running back the way they came around the stone pillar, a bolt shot loose whizzing past Carvers' face, he slid to a stop, landing soundly on his behind. Hawke stopped to pick his sibling up. Seeing a menacing-looking crossbow and a dwarf sauntering up to the runner. He had pinned him to the wall.
Shaking his red-blond head, the Dwarf seemed to know the cutpurse. "I knew a man who could steal all the coins in your pocket. Just by smiling at you." Crossing his arms, assessing the boy with a disapproving glance. "But you? You don't have the style to work Hightown. Let alone the Merchants Guild." He held out his hand, and the boy rolled his eyes, sighing, handing over the snatched purse.
"Let me down?"
"In a minute." The Dwarf turned to toss the purse back to Hawke after checking the weight. Turning back to the boy. "You might want to find yourself a new line of work." Punched the boy in the mouth. Removing the bolt that pinned the snatcher to the wall, slumped to the stone tiles.
Holding his face, he stumbled away, bumping into several others in his gained freedom.
Striding up to Hawke and Carver, smiled in greeting. "How do you do? Varric Tethras at your service."
"Thank you, Ser Tethras." Carver spoke first.
"Just Varric, save the Ser for my father." Rubbing his nose. "Let me apologize for my brother. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."
Carver hit Lineatus' chest again, shooing the boy off, and inquired that Varric could. Nodding, Varric admitted he has heard of the brothers, as they made a name for themselves. They always filtered through the most interesting bits of information to the man.
"You worked for the Red Iron, no, not worked, you impressed. Yet still managed to escape with your hide for letting that Lord go."
Both Carver and Hawke paled. "How did you…"
"I keep my ears to the ground. Anyway. I know that with someone like you joining, my pigheaded brother should see that too. He'd be too proud to admit it."
"You are part of his venture?"
With an agreeing nod, he looked around, surveying the area. "I can't let the head of the family go down there alone. Deep Roads, not my thing. But like I said, I will not let him go alone. So I need to see this expedition of his, succeed."
Varric coughed. "The name 'Hawke' is on everyone's lips. Not bad for a Ferelden fresh off the boat."
"Me? Well, you must know of my siblings then?"
Turning to face Carver, looking him up and down. "Strongarm, but some temper. There is a fire in you. As for your sister. I will leave the decisions to you." Crossing his arms, he waited for their answer.
"The Templars." Hawke and Carver said jointly.
"Secret is safe with me." He held his finger to his lips. Scanning the area once more.
Carver pulled Lineatus to the side. "We have to do this. Find his terms so we can organize accordingly!" he hissed. Hawke agreed.
Clearing his throat. "Varric, you are extending your hand awfully far for someone to just be a guard."
Varric smirked with an eyebrow raised in knowing. "Not looking for a hireling."
"Then what?"
"Partner."
"Friend, I do not…"
"Not that kind. Don't insult me." Varric chuckled. "Listen, the truth of it is, Bartrand has been pulling his hair trying to fund this venture on his own. He can't."
Carver and Hawke shared a look. "I see. We don't have…"
"I know. I also know that there is someone you just met who needs someone found. He will pay good coin for it, too." Watching the brothers think it over seemed a little cruel. "Forget what I said. Fifty sovereigns and my word, you will be in. Deal?"
Hawke swallowed. Fifty was much too much to ask. He calculated how much he had stashed away with Bethany. He was short, thirty. Closing his eyes, he absentmindedly nodded.
Clasping his hands together. "Good on you. I'll see you back here in the morning." Varric waved them off as he headed to Lowtown.
"Fifty! That is too much! How are we going to come up with it by morning?" Carver is near pulling his hair out as he paces around.
"I say we go for that drink, but we invite Lord Okhor." Pulling Carver back to the markets to invite the young Lord for an ale.
Hightown Market.
There in the back of the market square, Lord Swiftleaf was glowing in the flames as he stoked the coals hotter. Another swarm of women stood about watching. Some toss coins with each muscle flex the tall elf made. Hawke observed. Okhor smiled, a brilliant contrast to his brother. Okhor was more of an open book, while Ser Kal'an was distant. He could understand why he feared Hawke perishing with him. His brother was someone who he could never see again. Looking at Carver, he would get the coin needed. It would set them for life once they take Varric up on the partnership offered.
"My Lady, please. You will have to take that up with my sisters. They hardly let me out of their sight." He smiled brightly.
"Your sisters keep you all to themselves. Here, we only get to see you when you work." One young lady smirked unabashedly. While the others agreed, pleased.
This caused Okhor to throw his head back in laughter. "I will see what I can do. Maybe bring you an order?" He winked, and the women swooned again. "Ho there friends, you have returned. How did you fare?" He noticed their return with a smile. Striking the orange hot metal on the anvil.
The women who stood about eyed the brothers pleasingly. If they were friends of Okhor, surely they would drink in the beauty of more than one handsome fellow.
Striking the hot metal, Okhor introduced his new friends. "Ladies, allow me to introduce you to Lineatus and Carver." Gesturing toward the approaching men.
With a nod, the brothers greeted the crowd, who parted for them. "Ladies."
"Good evening." Carver said with a nod of his own.
Satisfied with the introductions, offered the brothers a seat. Striking the metal rhythmically, then tossed the piece in a bucket of water, the steam rising from it with a burbled hiss. Rolling his neck, he reached to pull the chain to the bellow.
"Carver, hand me that there." pointing to a pile of gold bars on the table across from where Okhor stood.
Carver did as asked. Okhor turned to meet Hawkes' eye. "Well. How did you fare?"
Closing his mouth, he nodded.
"Aye, that soddin' dwarf!" Okhor complained. "He is stubborn. Took him a while to accept me. Thank you." Taking the golden bar from Carver, placed it in a well-used pot on the burning coals. Pumping the bellows, the flames reached and danced for the man.
"Yes, he is." Hawke needed to come right out and say it. "He told us to look for our meal ticket elsewhere."
Okhor frowned. He knew the dwarf was ill-tempered, though to the extent of refusing help? Okhor thought for a moment. As he parted his lips to speak,
"We heard you will pay for information. You are searching for someone." Hawke knew that was a stupid thing to say to someone who has immediate access to weapons. The massive forge alone should have clamped his lips shut. Okhor turned with narrowed eyes. That was the look he knew he said too much. "I mean no offense." Hawke stood up, backing, with no place to go in defense.
Hawke said something very damning that made the young man to question; how much did Lineatus know? Okhor took a deep breath. Turning to the women who watched with interest. A broad smile in place. "Ladies, I am afraid I will have to depart earlier than scheduled."
Once again, the women pouted as they left about their business. Some waved their goodbyes, others wishing him to be safe. Okhor closed the thick curtains that led out. Turned to meet Lineatus and Carver. "Tell me, what do you know?"
An awkward quiet settled for a few seconds. "That is everything." Hawke had finished, not sure if he had said too much. Having to repeat what he had seen, with Ser Swiftleaf, how he came to Lothering, how he needed the funds for the expedition, also how he found out that his Lordship was searching for someone.
A half an hour later, Okhor had a few things to think over. Nodding without saying a word, arms crossed over his chest. Okhor held a hint of a smile. That broadened slowly. "So, you have met my Lord brother, as well as my twin. Who helped you escape Lothering." Okhor wiped his hands on his thighs then stood, dusting himself off.
Flummoxed, this information undoubtedly astonished Hawke. How could it be? How did he cross paths with another Swiftleaf? Either the Maker was having his jest with him or blessing him, it was a fine line with matters of coincidence.
"Come. My home is your home. It will please my sister to meet with you. You can regale her with what you have spoken with me once again." Lord Swiftleaf gestured for them to depart, raising the thick curtain for Carver and himself.
Before they departed, Okhor secured a stone on a thin leather strap. The way Hawke looked had Okhor shrugged. "You saw what I have in there. I cannot have anyone poking around."
That Hawke paid more attention to the tall elf. What was in the stall was secondary.
The heat held inside the forge was hotter than either thought. The night air was soothing. As his skin cooled, it brought a question he had held for a while.
"Your Lordship?" He could hear Okhor chuckle.
"No. Okhor is enough. Though you may address my uncles in that fashion."
"Well, Okhor, I was curious. Why would a Lord work the forge?"
"Well, why not? It is my trade?" Another playful smile, looking over his shoulder.
"I have another question."
Okhor waved a dismissive hand. "Question away. I will take no offense."
Hawke took to step in time with the Swiftleaf Lord. "Are you a mage?" A harsh whisper, lest the guard should hear them. The trio headed from the markets to an area of Hightown where the well-built homes lined clean paved streets. Small gardens added color to the cool stone of the elite quarters.
With a shake of his white-blond head, answered the man with an equal whisper. "Paladin, from Felwithe. They teach us certain magics. You could say much like the Templars, at least. That is what my youngest brother says." Turning the corner, they came to a large home with large vases filled with overflowing flowers on either side of the door. "Please. Come in." Okhor stepped through, with the Hawke brothers right behind him.
A cat darted in, suddenly startling Carver as it ran underfoot. "Felwithe?" He looked to make sure no other animal came, so he may put his foot down.
"Worlds away from here, friend." Okhor looked down at the cat. "Sister, I thought you home before I." Speaking to it as if she would answer.
When the brothers saw Okhor was addressing the cat, a cat, they reevaluated their decision to follow the man into his home. The cat in question was beautiful, with the most stunning yellow-green eyes. Someone well cared about her fur she mewed, stretching her sleek body shifted.
Soft chestnut curls that fell down her back, replaced the beautiful fur coat, thick black lashes lined her citrine green eyes. Her beautiful mocha skin, Carver, was lost in her visage.
"I ran out for a moment to see how Cullen has been." Turning to greet the visitors. "Has been a while since we had company. Tenkou Swiftleaf, you?"
Carver and Hawke gawked. They could do only that. Everything about today seemed farfetched. Spellcasters in Hightown, Siblings of Lord Kal'an. Varric's offer to partner with the expedition. She turned from a cat. He knew it must be a waking dream.
"Sister, you have astounded them into silence. This is Lineatus and Carver."
"Hawke." Lineatus gasped breathlessly.
"A pleasure then. I shall put something on."
"Sister, they need help. I would have aided myself, though I need you to hear their story first." Okhor winked at them, smiling.
The wink took Hawke by surprise. Again stunned, the Lady of a fine home serving?
"Is that so? Then tell them to have a seat. I will serve in a moment."
Their voices were quiet between them. Stepping from the foyer to the home was elegant, plants lined tall corner columns spilling onto the floor in a neat pile. The warm roar of the fire in the fireplace. Plush sofa with matching armchairs, rich deep blue velveteen. Wood, silver, and gold accents cream walls. It looked to be the home of a noble, save for the lack of servants to get them and serve upon them.
Okhor gestured to a seat for them to relax in. Carver let out a soft gasp. The softness of the sofa he sat, he melted into. This is what it will feel like after they have gone into the Deep Roads with enough bounty to fill two homes with such wonderful cushions. Okhor had excused himself to take the things from his sister.
"Thank you Heart." Tenkou led Okhor out to sit looking at the brothers. "You have something you wish to share with me?"
Hawke once more told of the events that led him and his brother to this point.