Leap chapter 2- Things have been too quiet lately

[amhran_comhrac]

Title: Leap: chapter 2 "Things have been too quiet lately"
Game: Dragon Age 2
Pairing: Mage f!Hawke/Anders (eventual)
Rating: E for now, eventual M
Wordcount: 3000
Summary: "Watch for that moment...and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap." Malina has spent her life hiding from the Templars, but she's starting to realize fear can be just as much a prison as the Circle.
Chapter Summary:
Lothering is great. Just ignore the sewage filled creek, the templars, and the absolute impossibility of having anything resembling a normal life.

Still a few years before the start of game events.
Oh, and I'll have new AOA either today or tomorrow, and probably new Stone and Sky tomorrow as well.

12 Kingsway 9:27 Dragon
Lothering, Southern Bannorn, Ferelden

Malina liked Lothering. Sure, the little creek running through the middle of town smelled like an open sewer… mostly because that's just what it was, and yes, quite a few of the locals seemed somewhere between "slow mabari" and "clever lump of dirt" in terms of intelligence… that made no difference. Lothering was blessed with something no other town could claim: the most oblivious templar force in the whole of Thedas. Not only had they managed to live quite happily for years, they had done so without so much as a single question. Even when Bethany developed a religious streak and began attending Chantry services over the strenuous objections of, well, everyone, their lives remained calm.

The sisters were sitting on the bridge over open-sewer creek, kicking their legs over the edge. They had been giggling about an Orlesian novel Bethany had found somewhere. "I think it seems silly," Bethany said. "No one talks like that."

Malina shrugged. "I don't know, I thought it was… romantic, you know?"

"As if either of us know anything about that," Bethany said, holding up her long dark hair and fanning her neck, clearly annoyed by the heat.

Malina shrugged. "Well, I—"

"You are almost as pathetic as me and you know it, sister." Bethany laughed, poking her in the side. She was sixteen and had yet to so much as kiss a boy. "And I don't want to hear about some alcohol-influenced poor decisions you made at Dane's Refuge. Some drunk telling you that your eyes reminded him of porter hardly counts!" She bit her lip and fell silent. "What's it like?"

Malina laughed. "As if I'm an expert!" At nineteen her experience could be counted on one hand. Counted on one hand, with enough fingers left for a rude gesture.

"More than me!"

She shrugged. "Would probably be better if I didn't spend most of the time making sure I kept my magic in check. And worrying about dad bursting into the room to set me on fire. Or him. Probably him."

"He wouldn't…. well, all right, he probably would," Bethany eventually agreed. "He means well?"

"Sure he does," Malina said. "We're both going to end up spinsters as a result, but his heart's in the right place. A place that involves no one seeing his daughters naked."

"I think all fathers live in that place," she said. "I'd be a bit afraid of the ones who don't."

"Point," she conceded.

Bethany changed the subject quickly. "You see the new Templar they put in charge?"

Malina nodded. "Handsome," she said, before adding "for a templar."

"He called me my lady at services," her sister said with a laugh. "Granted, I all but ran off as fast as I could after since I hadn't realized he was walking out right behind me. Still, I was surprised."

"You shouldn't even go to services," Malina said. "It's a risk."

"I can't believe the Maker would punish me for attending Chantry," Bethany said quietly. The nervous expression on her face told another story, though.

"I always wonder if they're just waiting for something." Malina was biting her lip and looking at the Chantry. "They have to know. How could they not?"

"If not us, then…" Bethany looked over her shoulder towards home, words trailing off. Malina made a noise of agreement.

Their father had become far less cautious about hiding his magic in recent years. It was all but common knowledge in the town that he could be visited for healing. He swore it kept them safer. "If they need me they won't turn on me," he had said. "An apostate isn't nearly as scary when he's delivered your son, cured your mother's illnesses, saved your brother after he was attacked by bandits…"

While Malina could see the logic behind his reasoning, she also noticed he was still careful to make sure no one realized there were two other mages living in the Hawke household. In one case he almost let a woman die rather than ask one of his daughters to step in after exhausting his own mana. In the end Malina had cast a sleep spell on the bleeding woman from behind her, stepping in with Bethany and disappearing before the patient woke.

"If not him, than the… um… when I…" Malina blushed and shrugged. "Well, that,"she finished lamely, face as red as her hair.

Bethany put her hand over her older sister's. "You shouldn't be embarrassed," she said quietly. "I don't think you did anything wrong."
Closing her eyes Malina shuddered, remembering the humiliating incident.

"Oh, there you are," her father said, looking up. "Where have you been? You missed dinner."

"I'm sorry," she said, wondering if running off to the woods was a viable option.

No such luck.

The front door slammed open and Carver marched in. "Oh good," he sneered, glaring at her. "The Whore of Minrathrous is home. She tell you why we have to move again yet?"

"What's this?" her mother said.

At the same time her father stood up, glaring at Carver. "Apologize to your sister. And I don't want to hear language like that from you again!"

"No!" Carver snapped. "She's the genius who decided it would be a good idea to start casting spells while giving Brent a tumble. Then he ran over and demanded to know why I never mentioned my sister was an apostate." He glared at her, teeth bared.

Malina groaned, covering her face. That was one way to tell them… not her first choice, really. Or tenth. Or hundredth. But it was out in the open. And it probably served her right for even considering getting involved with a friend of Carver's in the first place.

"I'm sorry," she managed to squeak out. "I… I didn't mean to."

Her father stared at her in growing horror before turning away. "This conversation isn't happening, is it? We're not really sitting around the front room discussing… this?" He glanced at her mother. "I'm possessed and trapped in the fade, right? Leandra, please tell me this is all the work of a really creative, particularly mean-spirited, demon."

"Yes, exactly," Malina said quickly. "All a dream. I'm off to bed. See you tomorrow."

She tried backing out of the room but her mother was having none of it. "Malina, is it true?"

"I didn't mean to," she said again, wringing her hands.

"Let's, um, forget what you were doing," her father said quickly, "and never mention that again. Ever."

"A fine plan," Malina nodded.

"So… I'm going to assume you were, um, discussing poetry... Why would you cast a spell near someone then? Or ever, for that matter? Have you lost your mind?" He stared at her, looking almost hopeful that she would confirm his suspicion.

"I wasn't thinking," she said.

"Clearly," Carver snapped.

"Would you shut up?" she shouted.

"Brought this on yourself," he said. "I don't want to move. We're all supposed to be careful and then you go and do this!"

"Carver, Malina isn't an idiot. I'm sure she had a very good reason to do what she did," her mother said, in a tone that implied she was, in fact, an absolute idiot and there could be no good reason.

"Everyone is insane," Malcolm said, sinking back to his chair. "Everyone but me. Well, where will we move now? I'm thinking somewhere without as many teenage boys. Maybe the moon?"

"What, she wanted to spice things up a bit?" Carver rolled his eyes, ignoring their father mumbling about locking her in her room until she was forty.

"Hey!" Malcolm shouted. "Reading. Poetry."

Covering her face for a moment, Malina took a breath. "Fine!" she shouted. "You want to know? Because it hurt, that's why! It hurt, and I was bleeding, and I healed myself without thinking about it. Because I'm an idiot. Is everyone happy now?" Sinking to the ground, she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping arms around folded legs. "And then he called me a monster and left." Leandra was kneeling on the floor a moment later, letting her daughter cry into her shoulder.

"Oh, Maker," Carver muttered. "I… um…" He winced, his teenage mind trying to sort out the information. "I didn't know you were still… wow. I mean, I'm not even—"

"Carver!" Leandra snapped.

"Um, yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Of course I was," she hissed. "I've been afraid something like this would happen!"

He stammered out an apology before quickly leaving the room. She spent the rest of the night sobbing, first into her mother's shoulder, and later into Bethany's.

Malina had pretended not to notice how her father and Carver left the house late that night, or the way her former suitor mysteriously developed a black eye and limp by the next day. Whatever the reason, he never spoke a word of what happened to anyone, and they were able to stay in Lothering.

Malina had come to a decision after that, though. Becoming involved with someone was too high a risk. She couldn't reveal her magic to someone until she trusted them implicitly, and by the time she trusted them enough they would no doubt feel betrayed to have her spring such a large secret on them. It wasn't only her own life she was risking, it was her sister and father as well. A family of apostates couldn't expect to remain hidden forever, and her selfishness had risked bringing the Chantry down on all of them.

"It's all in the past," Bethany said, glancing at her. "Stop worrying." Hopping down she gestured. "Come on, let's go out into the fields and practice for a bit. Someone was complaining about the spiders being back. We can take care of those. Claim we used torches and get the money from the Chanter's board, maybe."

That evening after dinner Malina snuck out to the local tavern, half a silver burning a hole in her pocket. Although her parents had never forbidden it, she knew they wouldn't approve. Her father warned that alcohol led to a loss of self-control, something that could be deadly in her case.
Sometimes she just wanted to pretend she was normal, even if it was only for a few hours, though. And sitting in a tavern letting some traveler passing through attempt to sweet talk her and ply her with drinks was a good way to accomplish that.

Walking home, she stuck to the edges of the woods. The roads weren't safe at night, but that didn't seem to apply to a woman who could kill with her bare hands from yards away. Her fear was more of the heavily armed and pious sort than the bandits who consistently plagued the outskirts of Lothering. Hearing footsteps, she darted slightly deeper under the cover of the trees.

"I know you're there," a familiar voice called. The dark night was suddenly illuminated by arcs of lightning. "Come out now and I won't hurt you!"
Gasping in surprise, Malina stumbled out of the woods. He thought she was a bandit! Of course, she had assumed the same of him only moments ago, so being cross hardly seemed fair.

Her father stared at her in shock. "Malina, do I want to know why you're out before dawn?"

"No," she said quickly. "Well, you might. Have you developed a fondness for uncomfortable silences and awkward discussion?"

"Only after a few ales," he replied quickly.

"It does take on a special sort of quality then," she agreed. "But I think dropping the subject for now would lead to far fewer strained conversations at the breakfast table. And I could ask the same of you."

He sighed. "How old are you now?"

"Wow, thanks dad," she laughed. "You don't remember my age? I'm your oldest. I'm named after you."

"I'm an old man," he said. "They say the mind is the first thing to go. If it makes you feel any better I called Carver by the dog's name yesterday."

"That's horrible!" Malina said. Her father nodded. "Ser Barks is much smarter than Carver!"

He chuckled. "I just… it feels like I blinked and you turned into an adult." She didn't know how to respond to that. "Anyways, you're a grown woman, I might as well tell you. And I can trust you not to tell anyone." Malina perked up at that, wondering what kind of secret business her father had been on. "About two miles back are a couple of naked and hog-tied templars who will probably wake up from the sleep spell I cast on them in, oh, three or four hours." He smiled. "Just enough time for the apostate they had caught to get away."

She stared at him. "Really?"

"Really," he replied. Malcolm took his staff from his back, looking at it. "It's not too smart, I guess. I've never been able to resist small rebellions, though. When I was assigned my first position as a healer the Circle told me not to so much as glance at the noble family's daughter. I suspect fleeing the country and having several children with her would have fallen under the same heading, had they realized what was in my future."
"Probably," Malina agreed. "Good thing you two didn't go in that order, huh!"

He paused. "You figured that out?"

She made a dismissive sound. "I'm not stupid, father. I've seen your marriage contract, and I know my own birthday."

"Babies born early can go on to be perfectly—"

"Three months, father?"

"Well, all right," he admitted. "Upset?"

She rolled her eyes. "I figured it out years ago. I thought it was funny how you two tried to hide it. Really, the way you forged the paper to say you were married a year sooner was just masterful. You couldn't even try and use the same color ink?"

"No one can get ink that color but chantries," he said. "I think it's made from the tears of mages."

"Well you should have been able to brew up your own, in that case." She laughed at the face he made. "And all this is a fine and handy distraction from the… what was it, hog-tied and naked templars? Really, now?"

"I hate the thought of anyone getting dragged to the Circle. They passed by while I was in the fields. I went looking for them after dark." His face clouded over. "They were… not kind. I saw them hit the woman, but it turned out that was the least of things."

Malina walked beside him in silence, considering that. "Did they see you?" she asked.

"Oh yes, I introduced myself, gave them our address, and then started casting spells. I told them what you and your sister look like, too. Things have been too quiet lately!" He laughed. "Come on, now. I cast the spell from the woods. They were unconscious before I got within twenty feet of them."

While she hadn't thought he would have intentionally revealed himself, the whole thing seemed too dangerous.

Malcolm looked over at her and shrugged. "I know what you're thinking. And it probably was stupid. But… I saw that woman… no, girl, and thought of how easily it could be you or Bethany. She was younger than your sister. She had been hidden, someone loved her enough to protect her, and it didn't matter in the end. I'd like to think that maybe, if either of you are ever in need, someone like me might come along and help."
Although she was still nervous, horrible images of templars descending on their home or finding her father run through playing across her imagination, Malina couldn't really argue. "Father?" she asked eventually.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why naked?"

"Would you admit to waking up naked and hogtied in a field?" After a moment he snickered. "Plus, it's far more amusing. They deserve a bit of humiliation."

Visualizing it for a moment, she began to laugh with him. Still chuckling, they slipped into the house.

The next afternoon she found him in the fields, checking on the tomatoes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Don't see why not," he said before passing a bushel to her. "Do these look smaller than last year?"

"No," she said. He only grunted, wiping his brow. "So, I was curious," she began slowly. Sensing she was serious, he stood up, watching his daughter. "Why…. Why did you leave them alive?"

Malcolm looked at her and shook his head. "I'm not the best man in the world, but I'm no killer."

"Yes, but they'll only go back to work. And what if they did see you?"

Her father stood up straight. "The Chantry says mages don't care about lives beyond their own, and apostates are brutal murderers and a danger to society. Why would I prove them right?" She opened her mouth and he cut her off, putting his fingers to her lips. "Sweetheart, I've saved hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives with magic. I've brought children into this world and eased the pain of old people leaving it. I want a world where people see the good mages can do, I won't use my own powers to demonstrate the darker side." He smiled slightly. "Besides, I'm hoping the whole thing will just end up blamed on bandits. Leaving them burnt to a crisp would eliminate that possibility."

"Bandits?" She raised an eyebrow. "You think people will assume two bound and naked Templars were set on by bandits?"

Malcolm laughed. "Well, I did douse their robes in whiskey. Don't worry, I used the cheap stuff." She waited for him to go on. "Oh, and before I left I robbed them utterly blind. You'd be surprised by how much coin those bastards carry."