I claim to own nothing in regards to Dragon Age, it's lore or its characters. That right belongs to BIOWARE. I am just a fan.
I sank back in my chair after explaining what happened to the others. I twirled a strand of my hair around one of my fingers as I began to stare off into space. I was exhausted and could not wait to get out of this dress.
"So, we wait until the Magister contacts us?" I nod in response. "Yes. He wants the journals. I planned on having them delivered in the morning." I look around the room. "And on that note, I believe it is time to get out of this costume."
"Would you like help?" Isabella and Zevran speak at the same time before glancing at each other and laughing. I can smell the alcohol coming off the both of them as their gazes at me become lustful. Definitely time for me to retire. I squeak out a curt "Good night" and leave the table. The Dark Lady certainly is busy tonight. I wonder if a drink would still my nightmares and let me get some rest. My feet drift toward the bar.
"What can I get you lass?" barkeep asks slinging a towel over his shoulder. "I'd like to pay for our breakfasts in advance again and could I please have three shots of your smoothest whiskey in a glass?" I had no idea what whiskey was but I had smelled it often enough on Isabella's breath to know that it was stronger than the wine I had a few hours earlier. "8 silver. 5 for the meals 3 for the shots." I paid and tipped the man as he poured me the amber alcohol.
When our transaction was over the barkeep walked away to help his next customer as a gravely drunken voice next to me says loudly "Well fancy noble women don't come to the docks to drink so you must be a fancy painted whore." He's drunk Marian pay him no heed. Intending to ignore him I spin on my heel to walk away.
"Hey don't ignore me!" he exclaimed grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me roughly toward him. A slight hush fell over the merriment around us. I can hear Isabella's chuckle. "Watch this Zev. He's done it now." She tells her blonde companion.
I glance at the large knuckled fist wrapped around my wrist and look into the face of the dwarven man clutching onto me. He is filthy. I wonder if this man has ever bathed or worn any other clothes in his life. Trying to keep myself calm I tell him "Serrah, if you do not unhand me this second, I promise you will regret it." An unbelieving chuckle sweeps through the crowd who have now all turned to watch. "Too good to accept coin from a dwarf?" he leers reaching down with his free hand and rubbing the crotch of his pants.
"We might lack in height compared to you humans but are large enough where it counts." The barkeep has drifted back over to our location as he asks the dwarf "Why are you bothering my customers, Atol?"
"I am also a customer!" he exclaims. In his anger his grip around my wrist tightens. Cold fury is starting to creep down my spine. "I am warning you a second time Atol," I spit his name out like a curse, "if you do not unhand me, you will regret it. I'm no whore and am not interested in your advances."
The soft clink of coin starts to swap hands around us as people begin to bet on the outcome of the drama playing out in front of them. He begins to laugh throwing his head back and tightening his grip further. My hand begins to tingle as I lose sensation. "Well, I warned you." Before he can finish his laughter, I take three quick jabs to his face feeling his nose crunch under my fist.
"What the fuck?!" he exclaims bringing his free hand to his face while still holding me. I grab the middle finger of the offending hand and wrench it back enough that I hear a pop. My fury gets the best of me as I bring both of my hands around the one that held me back and I feel a satisfying crunch as I break his wrist. I then cut his screaming off by grabbing the back of his head and slamming his face into the bar top. Once is enough to knock him out cold. There is complete silence around me as I shake feeling back into the hand he had held. Somewhere in the chaos I lost my glass of whiskey. The tavern erupts in applause from some and groans of disappointment from others.
"I am sorry to have brought violence into your establishment serrah." I apologize to the bartender. "Don't be sorry lass. Atol has been waiting for karma to crash down on him for some time." I hand the kind man a sovereign. "For his healer, a drink of apology and whatever else you want. Do me a favor though."
"Anything lass." His eyes are large and round at the sight of the gold. "When this son of a bitch sees the healer, please make sure that his bones are set the old-fashioned way. No healing magic so he can think about keeping his hands to himself for the weeks it will take for him to heal." His loud deep laugh fills the air as he refills another glass with the whiskey I needed replaced. "I think I can do that."
Five days had passed with no word. The four of us had been keeping ourselves occupied with exploring the city, picking up odd jobs here and there and enjoying each other's company. You know politicians take forever to do nothing. Pavus could have sent word that next morning to The Archon and we could be waiting months for a reply.
I was starting to feel some type of cabin fever. This afternoon after drills I found myself in the Dark Lady's kitchen with Lanabel. Turns out she and her husband owned the tavern and their boy Neil was the one who helped me set up my morning exercises.
"I still can't believe a scrap of a thing like you finally put Atol in his place! Hershel and I have been at our wits end with his drunken crap." I laugh with the short dark-haired woman. "I knew he was trouble when he married my sister. Her death changed him. Hand me that." I scoop up the rolling pin she pointed toward as she started to roll out the dough she had been kneading. "It's not often you hear of dwarves marrying outside of their race." I try my best to keep the curiosity out of my voice.
"Well darlin' if you ain't noticed I am not a very tall woman and my older sister was even shorter. They made a fine pair though. You would never guess to look at him but when they first met, he had been one of the wealthiest merchants in this part of the city. Her death drove him to drink and he hasn't been the same since."
"My condolences on the loss of your sister." Is all I can bring myself to say to her. "Grief is one of the heaviest burdens to bare. I'm glad to have met Atol as I did. After my first taste of whiskey last night to ensure a dreamless sleep, I can easily see myself drowning my grief in alcohol like that."
I brush the tears away before they can fall. "You poor sweet thing." She is unable to finish her thought as the door flies open with a bang startling us both. "Mistress Hawke! Mistress Hawke!" Neil pants his excitement before his eyes go wide. I barley hear him looking over his shoulder. My first thought was that someone was chasing him.
"Neil you crazy boy!" Lanabel chides her son. "You've scared me half to death and look! You've got poor Lady Hawke ready for a fight! Calm yourself and tell her your news like you're a respectable child and not a street rat!" It takes her harsh words to her son for me to realize I had drawn both of my blades. Guess I slept but didn't rest. I sigh to myself as I slip the daggers back onto my hips where they belonged. "I'm sorry Neil." I apologize to the boy ruffling his curly black hair. "What's the matter?"
"There's a fancy messenger here for you. Says he has an important letter that he has to put directly in your hands." He scurries away.
After saying my goodbyes to Lanabel I decided to go around to the front of the building from the court yard. I want to see what who I am meeting as they are distracted waiting for me to walk through the tavern hall.
"Dorian. What a surprise. I didn't think you would be in the business of delivering letters." I greet the young man suppressing a giggle as he startles.
"Well, I am the only one he trusts enough to get this delivery right since it may or may not contain delicate information."
"You've read it already, haven't you?" His embarrassed blush confirms it and I laugh again. An envelope is slid into my hands and I look it over. "Ah, hot knife under the back of the wax seal. You almost got it back exactly in place." He wasn't expecting to get caught. Cute.
"Would you like to come in for a drink? My friends are going to want to know what's going on." Without giving him time to respond I duck through the door and head toward the stairs. I pound on the first closed door to my right.
"Isabella, Zevran we have company. Meet me in my room." The lustful laughter that responds remind me of my poor choice of words. I shake my head and keep walking. Knocking on the next door.
"Varric. Letter. My room." I don't even know if he is here but I've learned by now the less words I say through the door the more he will listen to. When I get to my door, I swing it open and motion for Dorian to lead the way. Isabella's door swings open as she emerges tying her blouse in front of her and Zevran is still tugging on his pants as he follows. Is that all they do in their spare time? I think as I motion into my open door allowing them to go in before me.
"Is Varric in? Or are you two still working on getting yourselves chaffed in whatever filthy manor you will tell me all about later?"
"Well, if you can't brag about it later what's the point of doing it in the first place?" she purrs in her sultry voice. Thank the Maker I just heard Varric's door close. His heavy steps head my way.
"What's going on Hawke?" he greets me as I close the door behind us. "Finally overcame that bit of writers block?" I tease him when I notice him wiping ink off his hands. He nods in response.
"Dorian here is the Magister's son." I introduce him with a wave. Opening up the letter all that is written inside is:
Dorian is to escort you and whatever companions that
travel with you to my guest house where you will continue your stay.
I will be down to speak with you all at dinner tonight.
-HP
"What does everybody think?" I double check the paper and envelope for any hidden magic before tossing it into the fireplace. "I would love to stay in the guest house of a fancy Magister." Isabella squeals her delight. "I bet I could take a proper bath there."
"I just need to pack up me and Bianca's things. Shouldn't need more than 30 minutes." Varric agrees.
"It looks like you will have some guests, Dorian." I smile at him as our meeting ends and everyone heads to their rooms to pack up.