Archive of Our Own ^beta

“It…” Cassandra stopped, stepping a bit closer to the other woman. “It really is an honor of having you here, Hawke.”

The main hall of Skyhold – despite being still half in ruin – was well filled with soldiers, scouts and other people who had come to participate in the supper. Given there were not many rooms in the castle usable right now, everyone would gather together for the supper.

Some part of Dorian found it amusing. Especially as this way he could not help but overhear this rather onesided conversations.

Cassandra was standing behind the Champion of Kirkwall, as the other woman was called. Hawke was sitting next to Varric, drinking from a well-sized mug filled with ale.

“If you do need anything, then…” Cassandra tried again.

“Do not worry, Seeker,” Varric said, turning around to her. “I am taking good care of my friend.”

“I am just saying. As one of the founding members of the Inquisition…”

It was quite amusing to see the Seeker this flustered. Usually Cassandra was one of those women who were talking in the way only people talked, who were used to commanding others around. But she was different here.

Dorian was sipping on an ale on his own. It was not quite as sweet as wine, but he did enjoy it.

“Don’t sweat it, Seeker.” Varric looked at her and smirked.

Hawke put down her mug, sighing. “It is fine. I do not expect to stay here for long.” She looked at the other women. “Though I assume that I have not expected to stay in other places either, and see how that turned out?”

“I would be delighted to… uhm… give you a tour. Tomorrow. If you want.” The Seeker tried to smile. An expression that looked very wrong on her face.

“If I did not know it any better, I would say Cassandra does have a crush,” someone mused right next to Dorian.

“Duh!” That was Sera, the elven vigilante. “Look at that woman. Can’t barely string two sentences together.”

Dorian looked at the two. Their dear Inquisitor. He was an interesting fellow. He had to say that much. “My, my,” Dorian mused. “Are you claiming our dear Seeker might have unresolved feeling?”

Sera – in the middle of drinking herself – snorted. “Has unresolved feelings?” She wiped some beer from her chin. “That woman is unresolved feelings!”

Inquisitor Trevalyan could not help but smirk at those words.

Dorian was still trying to make sense of the man. He was courteous, diplomatic, witty at times. At times he said things that made Dorian suspect something. But he was not sure if he was simply imagining things. “What do you think, your Inquisitoriousness?”

Trevelyan chuckled. “I am thinking we are talking to loud.” He watched Cassandra.

Varric looked at the Seeker. “Well, if that is all, Seeker, why don’t you go off and eat something?”

“I just…” Cassandra looked down the long table, where she had been sitting originally. “I… If you don’t mind, Hawke. I really wanted to ask. Varric told me a lot of stories, but I cannot help and wonder which of those were true and which…”

The other women looked at her. There was a strange expression on her face. “What do you think?”

“I mean… I am sure you are an impressive woman and…” Cassandra blushed, realizing her own words.

“This is rather hard to watch,” Dorian commented.

“Eh,” Sera noted. “The woman needs more ale. Maybe that is gonna relax her properly.”

Trevelyan sighed. “I am not sure if ale is going to be enough for that. She might need a bit more.”

“Yeah? What would you suggest?”

“Probably one of those dwarven brews,” Dorian muttered. “Those tend to really make you forget all etiquette.”

“Fuck me.” Sera was rocking on the chair she was sitting on. “All you noble shitheads and your stupid etiquette.”

“Be glad you did not have to sit proper at an important supper when you were just ten.” Dorian shot her a side gaze.

Again she snorted, before cutting off a piece of the roast that had been served that was way to big. She still put it into her mouth and started chewing it with gusto. “Fuck yeah I am.”

Meanwhile Cassandra was standing there, so clearly unsure how to talk with the woman. She had her hands behind her back, shifting her balance lightly from side to side.

“Eh,” Hawke said. “Varric does like to embellish certain aspects.”

Varric was drinking from his mug. “A bit,” he muttered, before putting his mug down and wiping his lips. Then he got up. “I gotta get myself something more to drink.”

Cassandra moved a bit back to allow him to walk down to the barrels holding the ale. Then she stood there, eyeing the now empty stool next to Hawke, clearly wondering something.

“This is somewhat painful to watch,” Trevelyan muttered.

“Do you think our dear Seeker ever did it before?” Dorian mused.

Trevelyan side-eyed him. “I do assume she had a partner at some point.”

“A woman, though?”

Sera laughed. “Fuck no. She wouldn’t admit she is into that ever, would she?”

Trevelyan winced as he looked over to the woman, who so clearly was still struggling with the stool question, but eventually sat down.

“I just really… uhm… It is rare to see another woman who is… this accomplished.”

Hawke looked over to her. Then she gave a sigh. “From all I heared, you had Varric imprisoned and tried to make him talk.”

“Well, yes…. Too… We needed someone who… I was looking for you.”

Dorian winced at this display. “My dear woman,” he muttered. “You really need to learn to be more smooth.”

“What dya exact someone like her to be?” Sera grumbled.

“I do kinda feel for her, though.” Trevelyan sighed. “This is hard to watch.”

“You could over there and help,” Dorian noted.

The Inquisitor looked at him. “I am afraid this is all for Cassandra to figure out.” He shook his head, before remembering his own plate in front of him.

“Don’t take this personally,” Hawke now said. “But there is a reason I do not trust Templars a lot.”

From the expression on Cassandra’s face it was clear she had not even considered this before. She stared at the other woman, her mouth hanging just a bit open. She blinked. Slowly. “I… Technically I… I left the order.”

“Ouch,” Sera muttered, her mouth once again full.

“I do understand dear Hawke though.” Dorian sipped on his own ale. “As a mage I got to say that I would not like to be alone in a room with a templar.”

“Most templars are not that bad,” Trevelyan noted.

Dorian thought this really earned the man a long, long side gaze. “My dear, you are not a mage. You have indeed no reason to fear a Templar.”

“Templars do not exist to oppress mages,” the Inquisitor said.

Dorian scoffed. “I think there is a lot of mages down here in the south, who would disagree.”

“The Chantry is a bunch of assholes either way,” Sera grumbled.

“I doubt you left the order over the abuses mages.” Hawke looked at Cassandra now. “Did you?”

Cassandra paused at this. “I did leave because Divine Justinia did not want war, and neither did I.”

“But it is not as if you ever stood up for mages, did you?”

“Well, I…” Cassandra clearly was struggling for words.

“Ouch,” Dorian muttered.

“That is why this kinda stories ain’t gonna work,” Sera noted.

Trevelyan looked at her. “What kind of stories.”

Dorian had well understood. After all, if Tevinter loved one thing it was tragic stories about romances that were fated to end badly. “She is talking about doomed romances. Two offspring of rivaling families and such. Or, I guess, here in the south, the doomed romance of a Templar and a mage.”

Sera shot him a look. “Yeah. You get me.”

Cassandra meanwhile had somewhat caught herself. “We Seekers were not deployed in the Circles. I never really realized how bad it was in some of the places. The… The rite of tranquility was never meant to be used as a punishment, and…”

“Yet, you are fine being around someone, who thinks mages in of themselves are a danger to society,” Hawke noted, nodding towards Cullen, who was sitting by Josephine one table over. He was not talking, rather watching everyone in that rather tense manner the man seemed to expose.

“Cullen does regret the role he has played,” Cassandra said. “He… He did stand up to Meredith in the end, right?”

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes hindsight is too late,” she muttered bitterly.

“She is brutal,” Dorian muttered.

“Eh, I get her though. Like, if this was some asshole who looked upon the poor being beaten and shit…” She shot Dorian a long look.

“What?” he asked.

“Eh, just saying. You are a Vint, ain’t you?”

“That does not mean anything,” he said.

“Pretty much everyone is wondering about that, though. Vints, blood magic, enslaving elves, and all that shite.”

Trevelyan cleared his throat. “I would prefer we all did not assume the worst of each other.”

“I ain’t saying I am not also assuming some bad shit about you, your Inquisitorianess”

Trevelyan looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he sighed, before taking another sip of his ale.

Cassandra clearly was quite flustered in more than one way by now. “At some point we need to forgive, don’t we? After all, I think we all want this war to end eventually. In the end, innocent people are the ones suffering, and…”

“Innocent mages have suffered in the circles for centuries,” Hawke said cooly. “And it is not as if many people had cared about that, did they?”

“I… But you do not want innocents to die, do you?” Cassandra asked, her voice hoarse now.

Hawke was silent for a moment. “I don’t. But I also will not watch if things are supposed to go back to the way they were.” She took a deep breath before getting up and walking out of the hall.

“Our dear Seeker most certainly does have a way with people, doesn’t she?” The voice made the three of them jerk, finding their dwarven companion leaning against the wall next to them.

“Varric.” Trevelyan was the first to find his words again. “Why didn’t you…?”

Varric had crossed his arms. “I felt it was only fair for the Seeker to hear that unfiltered.”

Trevelyan was looking after Hawke, as she left the hall for the courtyard. He licked his lips, clearly thinking about his words. “Do you think Hawke is alright?”

“Hawke is a big girl, Sparkles,” Varric said. “She can deal with a bit of disagreement.” He nodded towards the other table. “I would be more worried about our dear Seeker.”

Indeed, Cassandra was sitting there clearly unsure what to do now with herself. She was still flushed and now became clearly aware that Dorian, Sera and Trevelyan had not been the only ones watching her.

“I am going to talk to her,” Trevelyan said, as he got up and went over to her.

“Pfft.” Sera grunted. “Our dear Seeker should maybe learn from all this.”

Dorian sighed, torn between amusement and pity for the woman. Then he got up. “I…” He did not finish his sentence, instead just walking to the end of the hall to follow Hawke.

Admittedly, he was not quite sure of what to make of that mage. Of course he had heard some of the stories as well – some of them probably originating from Varric’s pen. Stories of how she had protected Kirkwall, and had beaten quite some unlikely odds.

As Dorian reached the door of the hall, he could see Hawke climb the stairs to the wall of the stronghold. He paused for a moment, but then followed her.

He was not quite sure what to say to her. After all he was quite aware that he was a Tevintan was maybe not the right person to talk to her. But he understood she was angry – and he also kinda got why.

So he followed her, finding her leaning against the side of the wall.

Her breath was condensing into little clouds as she looked out onto the mountains surrounding the stronghold.

“It seems that you are quite upset with out Seeker,” he noted.

She turned around to him, her gaze mistrustful. “You are…?”

“Dorian Pavus. The Tevinter mage who certainly has come here to be a bad influence onto everyone of you.” He smiled.

“I see.” She turned towards the valley again, sighing once more.

“Even I could not help but hear quite a lot of stories about the Champion of Kirkwall,” he noted.

“Varric is a good storyteller,” she muttered.

“I will most certainly attest to that, dear. Afterall these stories would not have spread even among us if there was not a certain charm to them.”

“Yeah…” Her gaze was clouded as she just looked out, as if the answer to a longstanding question was hiding among the glaciers.

“I heard it was one of your companions who… Well… Who was responsible for what happened in the end,” he tried, as the rumors on the explosion of that chantry had been rampant even in the circles he had been frequenting.

She did not answer, just pursed her lips. There was a darkness in her gaze. And admittedly it took Dorian a long moment to understand.

“Oh…”

It had been her… what? A lover?

“I was always an apostate,” she said. “Because my father was. I grew up outside the circle. But…” She sighed again, her breath condensing once more. “I always had to hide my magic.” She looked at him. “And I cannot help but wonder about it. On one hand, we mages here in the South… When they abuse us, they will point at Tevinter and say: ‘This is what happens if we do not keep magic’ controlled. So, I see you, a Tevintan mage, and…”

“I can assure you, that at least officially most people in Tevinter are scoffing at the idea of Blood Magic.”

“That is good to know,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I do wonder about that, too. I had a friend, in Kirkwall. Another friend I mean. Who said it was just another form of magic. Who knows?”

“Do you want to find out?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. I do have a future ahead of myself. Eventually.” She pursed her lips once again, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply through her nose. “But I guess for now…” She did not finish the sentence.

Dorian leaned against the balustrade next to her. He could feel a somber smile sneak onto his face. “I know what you are saying.”

But who knew? Who knew where this all would lead?