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peopleofthedas2011-04-26 01:05 am
amhran_comhrac) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-04-26 01:05 am
Stone and Sky Chapter 3
I cannot believe how long I've gone since updating this. I need to start keeping chapter buffers or something...
Title: Stone and Sky Chapter 3:
Characters: Jowan/f!Brosca
Rating: T for now, eventual M/AO
Word Count: about 2000
Summary: You can't erase the crimes of your past, but you don't have to let them decide your future.
In this chapter: Just when you think that you couldn't possibly screw up your life any more than it already is...
Circle Tower
Everything had gone wrong. Beyond wrong. Jowan didn't even know if there was a word for how much he had managed to bungle things this time. "You're scheduled to be made tranquil tonight!" Lily had said. Faced with no other choice, he turned to Daylan.
His best friend had refused to help.
That should have been the first sign. "Are you insane,"his friend had hissed. "You know what they'll do to me if we're caught? I've already been harrowed, so I can't be made tranquil. Guess what that leaves." Jowan had pressed, which only led to the inevitable question.
"They… think I'm a blood mage," he whispered when asked for the reason the templars were ready to sever his connection to the fade and kill his emotions.
"And is it true?" He had known. He had known before Jowan even asked. Something in Daylan's voice made that more than clear. Jowan denied it, of course, making up some transparent excuse about sneaking around to see Lily. Daylan had only shaken his head, refusing to help. Jowan should have figured it out when he returned not even an hour later, saying he changed his mind. Staring at the First Enchanter, Knight Commander, and half a dozen templars besides, everything clicked into place.
"You bastard," Jowan shouted. "You set me up!"
"Me!" Dalyan snapped back. "I asked if it was true and you couldn't even look me in the face. You would risk my life to save your own ass- when we both know you're guilty!"
"But I'm not!" Jowan insisted.
In retrospect, it wasn't the smartest thing to say. Not considering what came next.
It wasn't his own death sentence that motivated him. It wasn't. Jowan tried to find comfort in that, reassuring himself that he had only been trying to protect lily, to save her from Aeonar, that fate worse than death. It was so much harder to convince himself when he remembered the disgust and loathing in her eyes, the way she hissed "keep away from me, blood mage."
In the end, although sparing himself hadn't been his goal, that was all Jowan managed to do.
As he fought to swim for the shore her face refused to leave his mind.
Never a strong swimmer, and now sixteen years out of practice, it was starting to seem unlikely he would even make it so far as that. Good, Jowan thought, choking on foul tasting lakewater, maybe drowning will be justice.
Orzammar
Everything had gone wrong. Sif couldn't even pretend to be surprised by that, but the scale of their failure this time was near boggling.
"Leske!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Leske!"
He didn't answer. Sighing, she sat down against the stone wall of her cell and wondered if that meant he actually wasn't in the next cell, as she suspected, or something far worse.
Think, Sif, fucking think! Biting her lip, she tried to figure a way out of the mess. It wasn't looking good. Sure, she had good intentions… but Beraht wasn't the sort to normally care about good intentions. Fix a fight, he says. Just drug the other guy, easy as cake.
Until they found the man he hoped to win passed out drunk.
Putting on his armor and fighting herself seemed like such a good idea at the time. How would she have known the ass would wake up and stumble out at her moment of victory?
Of course, she probably should have known that someone would want to see her face if she won.
Out came the guards, and off she went. Sif remembered seeing Leske in the crowd of officials at one point, being dragged along to share whatever fate was waiting for her. Had she been forced to guess, Sif suspected they would be offered a chance to go into the Deep Roads and join the Legion. Impersonating a member of the Warrior caste could get your hands cut off, but really, if Dwarves were anything it was pragmatic. They would want to put her to use.
Death by darkspawn. She couldn't pretend the idea was at all appealing.
Of course, she was wrong about that, too.
It wasn't guard's cell she had been taken to. Sif and Leske had been delivered to the Carta itself… the very angry Carta.
Getting out of the cells proved easier than expected once she was able to focus on the task: a giggle, a shake of her hips, a few choice comments, and the guard came close enough for her to grab him. Gripping the back of his head, she pulled forward with all her strength, slamming his head into the bars first once, twice, and finally a third time where there was a surprisingly loud crunch. He crumpled to the ground and she was able to fish the key from his pocket. Freeing herself and then Leske, they managed to find their gear in a dirty crate shoved under a table in the corner.
Getting out of the Carta's hideout, however, wasn't nearly as simple. "You know," she said to Leske as they worked their way slowly towards one of the many hidden exits, "I'm kind of sick of killing former friends."
"We should let them kill us?" he said.
"Did you see me put my daggers away?" she countered.
The Bannorn
Jowan had no idea where he was. It was painfully bright, windy, and loud. From one direction he could hear a dog barking, accompanied by loud laughter. A child, or several children, if he had to guess. From another a carriage was rumbling past. He had no idea Ferelden was such a loud country. He had taken to traveling at night, figuring it would make him less likely to be caught. He didn't deserve freedom at this point, not when Lily was surely rotting in a cell somewhere, but that didn't mean he was about to simply turn himself over to the first templar he saw. That meant a lot of time to do nothing while the sun was up. Nothing but sit and listen to the noise.
Lying in a ditch, he was shielded from anyone who didn't come right to the edge and look down. The grass was dry, a rarity, and smelled sweet. It was… almost nice.
I don't deserve nice, Jowan reminded himself, almost wishing for a rock to dig into his back or a nice rainstorm to soak him to the bone. Something to make him suffer, some kind of penance to help remind him there might be justice in the world.
The barking was becoming more insistent, and then cut off completely. Strange, he thought. Well, he assumed it was strange, figuring dogs didn't exactly shut off like a candle. It wasn't as though he had any experience with animals beyond the cats who roamed the tower halls, and the mice they were forever hunting. Listening closer he noticed the children had gone silent as well.
Must have gone inside, he mused, watching a cloud drift by.
That was when the screaming began.
Sitting up, he peeked over the top of the ditch, not seeing anything. Realizing they were children's screams, he scampered over the edge, nearly falling face-first when his foot got tangled in his robes. Running towards the sound, Jowan found himself on the lawn of a small farm. As he glanced around he located the children, a boy and girl cowering on the roof of the one story house.
Quickly understanding the situation it took all his courage not to turn and run back the way he came. Children, he reminded himself. Defenseless children. When that didn't stop his hands from shaking he took a deep breath. Well, dying here might be redemption.
Finally feeling calm, Jowan stood up straight and held out his hands, flames already dancing across his fingertips. "Hey!" he shouted at the four darkspawn who were attempting to scale the walls to reach their prey. They tuned at the sound of his voice. "What? You don't like people who can defend themselves?"
When they advanced towards him he set off a fireball, knocking one over and scorching two others. More spells followed, quicker than he'd ever had reason to cast them before. In the back of his mind, Jowan wondered who it was he could hear laughing over the roar of his spells.
Orzammar Commons
From bad to worse was all Sif could think, looking out at the nobles, warriors, and guards. The carta, or whatever of it had been inside the hideout, was dead. Beraht was dead. And now everyone who was mad about a brand impersonating a member of the warrior caste was also mad because the kickbacks they had gotten used to were probably gone. She could almost laugh, but someone admitted it to her face. "Beraht had many enemies… but powerful friends," he said, looking at her as though he couldn't quite believe what stood in front of him.
Before she and Leske could be killed, or dragged to the Deep Roads, or whatever they had in mind for them, a tall figure cut through the crowd.
"What's he want," Leske muttered. "We're a show for visitors now, too?"
Sif blinked, trying to place the man. It took her only a few seconds to remember: she had only ever met one human before, after all. If she wasn't so focused on the last few hours, and worried about what would come next, she wouldn't have needed to think about it at all. A Grey Warden, the surfacer order devoted to fighting Darkspawn. He was in Orzammar as a guest, and on a dare she had spoken to him before the proving.
That still didn't explain why he was here, though.
Pushing his way to the front of the crowd, he cast a careful glance at Sif before, of all things, smiling. If she didn't know better she would have said it was the grin of someone who knew he was about to get away with something really, really, good.
And, it turned out, she was right.
Chaos erupted as soon as he made his announcement. The nobles and warriors began arguing with him and among themselves; the guards looked like they were planning to kill her on the spot and end the debate. He stood calmly above it all, watching her for a reaction. "You're kidding me," she finally managed. "You want me to be a Grey Warden?"
He nodded, completely serious. "With no formal training you bested everyone in that Proving, men and women who have done nothing but train their entire life. That level of talent alone was enough to make up my mind. That you also managed to escape and free yourself only convinced me further."
She looked at Leske. He rolled his eyes. "Sif, why are you still here? Go! This is your chance!"
"I can't…" biting her lip, she stared into his surprised blue eyes. "I can't leave you and Rica," she finally managed, not wanting to tell him even then.
"Oh, I can take care of Rica, don't you worry," Leske said.
She narrowed her eyes. Why should now be any different? Turning back to the human, Rica struggled to make up her mind. "I need to talk to my sister," she said.
The crowd began to stir. "Let me through," someone said. Rica could see red hair moving closer, pale white elbows shoving out. "Move it!" One man, who stubbornly refused to step aside, found himself shoved to the ground. "Hey! I said move it!"
"Sodding brand," Sif could hear him mutter as she walked over.
"Rica?" she said.
"I came as soon as I heard the news," she replied, out of breath. The man climbing to his feet began to protest, Sif sneered and he moved back. "Hey, I may not be a great fighter, but I grew up in Dust Town, too, you know," Rica said, smiling slightly.
"I can't leave you," Sif said. "What will you do? I killed Beraht."
"I'll be fine," Sif said. "Mother and I both will. I…" she dropped her voice and moved closer, whispering. "The man I met? He wants me to be his mistress. He's moving us into his home."
"Who is it?" Sif asked, curiosity overcoming good sense.
Rica glanced around at the crowd. "You'll see," she whispered. "I can't say here. I'll get someone to help me write you."
"I'll get someone to help me read it," she replied, smiling. "You really think…?"
"Stone, yes," Rica said. "Go! You can be a Grey Warden! Even the nobles respect them!"
"Go," Leske said, walking over. "You said you wanted to see the surface, when will you get another chance."
Sif nodded, hugging her sister tightly. "I'll miss you," she whispered. Then, before her indecision could get the better of it she turned to Leske. His eyes widened with surprise when she kissed him, but after a moment's uncertainty his lips parted and hands reached around her. "Sorry," she whispered a moment later. "I—"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off. "I kinda figured. Go on, get out of here before the gossips say we were rutting in the streets and we shame the good name of Dust Town."
Turning to the Grey Warden Sif looked up. Funny, she thought briefly, I always figured humans were taller. "I'm ready."
Title: Stone and Sky Chapter 3:
Characters: Jowan/f!Brosca
Rating: T for now, eventual M/AO
Word Count: about 2000
Summary: You can't erase the crimes of your past, but you don't have to let them decide your future.
In this chapter: Just when you think that you couldn't possibly screw up your life any more than it already is...
Circle Tower
Everything had gone wrong. Beyond wrong. Jowan didn't even know if there was a word for how much he had managed to bungle things this time. "You're scheduled to be made tranquil tonight!" Lily had said. Faced with no other choice, he turned to Daylan.
His best friend had refused to help.
That should have been the first sign. "Are you insane,"his friend had hissed. "You know what they'll do to me if we're caught? I've already been harrowed, so I can't be made tranquil. Guess what that leaves." Jowan had pressed, which only led to the inevitable question.
"They… think I'm a blood mage," he whispered when asked for the reason the templars were ready to sever his connection to the fade and kill his emotions.
"And is it true?" He had known. He had known before Jowan even asked. Something in Daylan's voice made that more than clear. Jowan denied it, of course, making up some transparent excuse about sneaking around to see Lily. Daylan had only shaken his head, refusing to help. Jowan should have figured it out when he returned not even an hour later, saying he changed his mind. Staring at the First Enchanter, Knight Commander, and half a dozen templars besides, everything clicked into place.
"You bastard," Jowan shouted. "You set me up!"
"Me!" Dalyan snapped back. "I asked if it was true and you couldn't even look me in the face. You would risk my life to save your own ass- when we both know you're guilty!"
"But I'm not!" Jowan insisted.
In retrospect, it wasn't the smartest thing to say. Not considering what came next.
It wasn't his own death sentence that motivated him. It wasn't. Jowan tried to find comfort in that, reassuring himself that he had only been trying to protect lily, to save her from Aeonar, that fate worse than death. It was so much harder to convince himself when he remembered the disgust and loathing in her eyes, the way she hissed "keep away from me, blood mage."
In the end, although sparing himself hadn't been his goal, that was all Jowan managed to do.
As he fought to swim for the shore her face refused to leave his mind.
Never a strong swimmer, and now sixteen years out of practice, it was starting to seem unlikely he would even make it so far as that. Good, Jowan thought, choking on foul tasting lakewater, maybe drowning will be justice.
Orzammar
Everything had gone wrong. Sif couldn't even pretend to be surprised by that, but the scale of their failure this time was near boggling.
"Leske!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Leske!"
He didn't answer. Sighing, she sat down against the stone wall of her cell and wondered if that meant he actually wasn't in the next cell, as she suspected, or something far worse.
Think, Sif, fucking think! Biting her lip, she tried to figure a way out of the mess. It wasn't looking good. Sure, she had good intentions… but Beraht wasn't the sort to normally care about good intentions. Fix a fight, he says. Just drug the other guy, easy as cake.
Until they found the man he hoped to win passed out drunk.
Putting on his armor and fighting herself seemed like such a good idea at the time. How would she have known the ass would wake up and stumble out at her moment of victory?
Of course, she probably should have known that someone would want to see her face if she won.
Out came the guards, and off she went. Sif remembered seeing Leske in the crowd of officials at one point, being dragged along to share whatever fate was waiting for her. Had she been forced to guess, Sif suspected they would be offered a chance to go into the Deep Roads and join the Legion. Impersonating a member of the Warrior caste could get your hands cut off, but really, if Dwarves were anything it was pragmatic. They would want to put her to use.
Death by darkspawn. She couldn't pretend the idea was at all appealing.
Of course, she was wrong about that, too.
It wasn't guard's cell she had been taken to. Sif and Leske had been delivered to the Carta itself… the very angry Carta.
Getting out of the cells proved easier than expected once she was able to focus on the task: a giggle, a shake of her hips, a few choice comments, and the guard came close enough for her to grab him. Gripping the back of his head, she pulled forward with all her strength, slamming his head into the bars first once, twice, and finally a third time where there was a surprisingly loud crunch. He crumpled to the ground and she was able to fish the key from his pocket. Freeing herself and then Leske, they managed to find their gear in a dirty crate shoved under a table in the corner.
Getting out of the Carta's hideout, however, wasn't nearly as simple. "You know," she said to Leske as they worked their way slowly towards one of the many hidden exits, "I'm kind of sick of killing former friends."
"We should let them kill us?" he said.
"Did you see me put my daggers away?" she countered.
The Bannorn
Jowan had no idea where he was. It was painfully bright, windy, and loud. From one direction he could hear a dog barking, accompanied by loud laughter. A child, or several children, if he had to guess. From another a carriage was rumbling past. He had no idea Ferelden was such a loud country. He had taken to traveling at night, figuring it would make him less likely to be caught. He didn't deserve freedom at this point, not when Lily was surely rotting in a cell somewhere, but that didn't mean he was about to simply turn himself over to the first templar he saw. That meant a lot of time to do nothing while the sun was up. Nothing but sit and listen to the noise.
Lying in a ditch, he was shielded from anyone who didn't come right to the edge and look down. The grass was dry, a rarity, and smelled sweet. It was… almost nice.
I don't deserve nice, Jowan reminded himself, almost wishing for a rock to dig into his back or a nice rainstorm to soak him to the bone. Something to make him suffer, some kind of penance to help remind him there might be justice in the world.
The barking was becoming more insistent, and then cut off completely. Strange, he thought. Well, he assumed it was strange, figuring dogs didn't exactly shut off like a candle. It wasn't as though he had any experience with animals beyond the cats who roamed the tower halls, and the mice they were forever hunting. Listening closer he noticed the children had gone silent as well.
Must have gone inside, he mused, watching a cloud drift by.
That was when the screaming began.
Sitting up, he peeked over the top of the ditch, not seeing anything. Realizing they were children's screams, he scampered over the edge, nearly falling face-first when his foot got tangled in his robes. Running towards the sound, Jowan found himself on the lawn of a small farm. As he glanced around he located the children, a boy and girl cowering on the roof of the one story house.
Quickly understanding the situation it took all his courage not to turn and run back the way he came. Children, he reminded himself. Defenseless children. When that didn't stop his hands from shaking he took a deep breath. Well, dying here might be redemption.
Finally feeling calm, Jowan stood up straight and held out his hands, flames already dancing across his fingertips. "Hey!" he shouted at the four darkspawn who were attempting to scale the walls to reach their prey. They tuned at the sound of his voice. "What? You don't like people who can defend themselves?"
When they advanced towards him he set off a fireball, knocking one over and scorching two others. More spells followed, quicker than he'd ever had reason to cast them before. In the back of his mind, Jowan wondered who it was he could hear laughing over the roar of his spells.
Orzammar Commons
From bad to worse was all Sif could think, looking out at the nobles, warriors, and guards. The carta, or whatever of it had been inside the hideout, was dead. Beraht was dead. And now everyone who was mad about a brand impersonating a member of the warrior caste was also mad because the kickbacks they had gotten used to were probably gone. She could almost laugh, but someone admitted it to her face. "Beraht had many enemies… but powerful friends," he said, looking at her as though he couldn't quite believe what stood in front of him.
Before she and Leske could be killed, or dragged to the Deep Roads, or whatever they had in mind for them, a tall figure cut through the crowd.
"What's he want," Leske muttered. "We're a show for visitors now, too?"
Sif blinked, trying to place the man. It took her only a few seconds to remember: she had only ever met one human before, after all. If she wasn't so focused on the last few hours, and worried about what would come next, she wouldn't have needed to think about it at all. A Grey Warden, the surfacer order devoted to fighting Darkspawn. He was in Orzammar as a guest, and on a dare she had spoken to him before the proving.
That still didn't explain why he was here, though.
Pushing his way to the front of the crowd, he cast a careful glance at Sif before, of all things, smiling. If she didn't know better she would have said it was the grin of someone who knew he was about to get away with something really, really, good.
And, it turned out, she was right.
Chaos erupted as soon as he made his announcement. The nobles and warriors began arguing with him and among themselves; the guards looked like they were planning to kill her on the spot and end the debate. He stood calmly above it all, watching her for a reaction. "You're kidding me," she finally managed. "You want me to be a Grey Warden?"
He nodded, completely serious. "With no formal training you bested everyone in that Proving, men and women who have done nothing but train their entire life. That level of talent alone was enough to make up my mind. That you also managed to escape and free yourself only convinced me further."
She looked at Leske. He rolled his eyes. "Sif, why are you still here? Go! This is your chance!"
"I can't…" biting her lip, she stared into his surprised blue eyes. "I can't leave you and Rica," she finally managed, not wanting to tell him even then.
"Oh, I can take care of Rica, don't you worry," Leske said.
She narrowed her eyes. Why should now be any different? Turning back to the human, Rica struggled to make up her mind. "I need to talk to my sister," she said.
The crowd began to stir. "Let me through," someone said. Rica could see red hair moving closer, pale white elbows shoving out. "Move it!" One man, who stubbornly refused to step aside, found himself shoved to the ground. "Hey! I said move it!"
"Sodding brand," Sif could hear him mutter as she walked over.
"Rica?" she said.
"I came as soon as I heard the news," she replied, out of breath. The man climbing to his feet began to protest, Sif sneered and he moved back. "Hey, I may not be a great fighter, but I grew up in Dust Town, too, you know," Rica said, smiling slightly.
"I can't leave you," Sif said. "What will you do? I killed Beraht."
"I'll be fine," Sif said. "Mother and I both will. I…" she dropped her voice and moved closer, whispering. "The man I met? He wants me to be his mistress. He's moving us into his home."
"Who is it?" Sif asked, curiosity overcoming good sense.
Rica glanced around at the crowd. "You'll see," she whispered. "I can't say here. I'll get someone to help me write you."
"I'll get someone to help me read it," she replied, smiling. "You really think…?"
"Stone, yes," Rica said. "Go! You can be a Grey Warden! Even the nobles respect them!"
"Go," Leske said, walking over. "You said you wanted to see the surface, when will you get another chance."
Sif nodded, hugging her sister tightly. "I'll miss you," she whispered. Then, before her indecision could get the better of it she turned to Leske. His eyes widened with surprise when she kissed him, but after a moment's uncertainty his lips parted and hands reached around her. "Sorry," she whispered a moment later. "I—"
"It's okay," he said, cutting her off. "I kinda figured. Go on, get out of here before the gossips say we were rutting in the streets and we shame the good name of Dust Town."
Turning to the Grey Warden Sif looked up. Funny, she thought briefly, I always figured humans were taller. "I'm ready."
Wow, it's been a long time since I updated this. That's new-job-craziness for you, I suppose.
Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!