Hawke (sonoflothering) wrote in soulboundic, @ 2020-01-09 21:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log / thread, -player: mena, -player: mj, althera lavellan, ethan hawke |
Log: Hawke & Athera
Athera tapped her fingers against the table as she waited. Her stave was resting next to her by the window, within easy reach, as she had refused to be parted from it. Despite being told there was little immediate danger as long as she did not leave the mists, Athera was yet to feel even remotely comfortable in this world. In this place. She felt alone, she felt isolated, she felt… she was concerned. She didn’t really know anyone here, she didn’t know how to connect with the people here who had vastly different lives to her, who came from worlds where technology had replaced magic - or where magic had never existed at all. Where dragons were creatures of myths and legend and were not magnificent (if not unnecessarily aggressive) creatures.
She’d ordered them both this world’s equivalent of ale. It was called ‘beer’, and it came out of rather than a casket. Hawke’s was sitting on the table opposite her, condensation forming on the outside of the glass. Hers was sitting in front of her, finger-marks in the droplets from where she’d been playing with them idly, forming shapes with the water as it condensed through her magic.
She just felt… lost.
She had been relieved that Warden Amell and King Alistair were here, of course, that there were those who knew of Thedas and where she had come from but at the same time she did not know them, she had not met either of them properly before this and it wasn’t the same. They had travelled together, stopped the Blight together. Her friends were… not here. Some of them were living their own lives, apart from her, some were still working with the Inquisition and Solas…
Damnit.
Though, to say she was relieved when she saw Hawke would have been quite the understatement. She slid out of the booth and took three steps towards him before literally hiding her face in his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
Hawke much like Athera was reluctant to give up his weapons especially as he had not fully explored and familiarised himself enough to be of the opinion that this place could be trusted. No, he would keep his daggers, thank you very much. If people had an issue with that then they could take it up with him directly.
Thankfully there was in fact a place where one could find alcohol and lots of it if the search called google was any indication. Also, Athera would not steer him wrong.She was after all the Inquisitor though that title was likely more a bane than a boon especially as like with most heroes she had not asked to be involved. He knew for certain that he had never intended to become the Champion of Kirkwall though admittedly he didn’t really brag about that all things considered.
He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that for him it had been merely days but for her it had been four years and it didn’t become apparent just how much she’d grown in that time until he clasped eyes on her for himself. He’d been about to greet her when she rather unceremoniously buried her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, an embrace he was all too familiar with as it had happened on more than one occasion when they’d survived a situation where the odds were very firmly stacked against them.
A smile caught his lips and his arms lifted to curl around her, touch firm and reassuring. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Avy isalal na,” she said, “It’s been hard without anyone I know.” Or who knew her. She’d been keeping to herself, researching the magic of this place with Emma though there had been little to do as no one had gone hunting in the mists for anything. She’d offered to learn to walk them, they felt similar to the Fade in some senses of the word and she’d spent more than her fair share of time there, through necessity and curiosity in equal measure.
She squeezed him once and then leaned back, catching his wrist and dragging him over to the table. Athera had always put a lot of stock in family, first her Clan and then the Inquisition, especially after her Clan had been killed. Cullen had done his best, she did not blame him for it, but the pain was still there. She knew it would never go away. She should have done more for them. Protected them better.
“Their ale is cold,” she informed him, pointing to his glass, drawing her own a little closer. “And definitely isn’t as strong as what we’re used to.”
Cold ale? What kind of blasphemy was this?
Hawke’s face scrunched up into an expression of disdain as he regarded the glass in front of him. “I am not sure how I feel about cold ale,” he admitted, eyeing the glass like it might grow eight legs and scurry towards him.
Still, ale was ale after all, and he’d be damned if he wasted it.
“How long have you been here?”
Athera chuckled, “It’s not too bad, actually. I’m not completely convinced I’d be able to go back to warm, tavern ale after this.” She pushed a menu towards him, “They also serve food. I thought this place might be better if we were going to have a longer talk. At least we could eat as well.”
She struggled to read half the items on the menu: her reading was still far below what it might have been had she grown up in a city, or if she was human. Her skills from drinking from the Well of Sorrows notwithstanding, so much of human culture eluded her. Counting, money and reading chief amongst them.
“About two weeks, I think? I arrived on the date they called December the first.”
Hawke regarded the “menu” which was pushed across the table and reached to pick it up to cast his gaze over the selection of food and beverages. It was quite the varied choice, more than he’d seen at any other establishment. “I think having food is a very good idea. I am far more hungry than I thought.”
Two weeks was a long time to be alone in an unfamiliar place with none of your friends around you.
“And what do you make of this place?”
“I miss home,” Athera admitted quietly. “I don’t like that we have been conscripted to fight something that isn’t ours to fight. It’s... rude.” Not that she had much of a place to talk, bringing people into the Inquisition, some of them had nowhere else to go. At least she had never pulled anyone from another reality to fight her battles.
She wet her lower lip, “I would recommend the catfish,” she told him. “Have you truly just come from leaving the Inquisition? Just after we left the Fade?” She leaned her elbows on the table. “Before we defeated Corypheus?”
“Very rude,” Hawke agreed readily. “I mean I could have had other plans for all they knew.” He hasn’t but still the point remained. Catfish? Hawke cast his gaze over that and decided that it would be worth a try especially if recommended by the Inquisitor.
He glanced up and met her gaze. “Exactly then. For you however it seems it’s been much longer. You should fill me in.”
“On what, exactly?” Athera asked, “What’s happened since we last saw each other? I sealed the Breach, got my entire Clan murdered, defeated Corypheus and his dragon, learned that Lyrium is blood of all things from giant titans that sleep far beneath the Deep Roads, I made a new alliance with the Avar that live in the Basin and got a bear that joined my army as penance for getting captured.” She paused, looking impishly at Hawke, “And I backed Leliana as Divine.”
He could ask for an expansion of whatever he wanted, but she thought those were likely the highlights.
Hawke at this point was just sort of staring not open mouth and gawking but definitely staring with the occasional blink thrown in for good measure. That was a lot, definitely a lot. He didn’t so much comment as he did reach for the cold ale and just drink it without pausing for air or so much as a break until with the glass all but drained he rested it to one side, gestured to Athera’s own glass.
“I think you need something stronger than ale.”
“Oh,” she added, as though he hadn’t spoken, “and I found out that one of my most trusted friends is actually Fen’Harel, the trickster God that shut the Elven Gods - which are real, by the way - away from the world, and created the Veil, and gave Corypheus the damn orb in the first place and therefore indirectly caused the breach.”
Her voice broke a little with that confession, trying to sound as nonchalant as she had about everything else but failing a little.
“Forgot that bit.”
Quickly Hawke sorted through all of Athera’s companions in his mind’s eye and the fact he knew that Fen’Harel had always been denoted as male meant he was able to draw a very astute conclusion that it was in fact the one called Solas. The one with those… cold eyes.
He reached across the table and caught Athera’s hand in his own, curling his fingers around it and squeezing softly but firmly.
“It’s never easy when somebody you trust betrays you. Never.”
“I keep feeling like I should have seen it coming,” she said, curling her fingers back around his, squeezing his hand back grateful for the reassurance. “He knew so much, but I’d always thought that was because he was older and wiser and- and more learned. Not because he was one of my Gods.”
She pressed her lips together. “And I thought we’d be done, you know? Close the veil, maybe I can retire. But Lelian- uh, Divine Victoria wanted the Inquisition to stay open, so we did. And now Sol- The Dread Wolf wants to tear down the Veil. I have to stop him, and I will, when I leave this place, if it’s not too late.”
She wet her lower lip, “No one would survive the destruction of the Veil. Maybe the Elven mages, but even then that- that’s not for certain.”
“You’re a lot of things, Athera, but precognitive you are not,” Hawke pointed out as he sought out eye contact. “And those closest to us really do have the best opportunity to deceive us.”
He frowned at the bleak future that Athera was painting if Solas did in fact tear down the Veil.
“Well,” he drawled. “As somebody who happens to live in the world that he’s looking to destroy I am more than happy to help you kick his ass back to where he came from.”
“I’d appreciate any and all help you can offer.” Athera said gently, “Maybe you can bring Fenris with you. I know he’d feel better actually charging into war with an Elven god beside you rather than letting you go off and do it alone.” She wondered, briefly, if Cullen missed her where he was, working with ex-Templars, or if any of her other former companions did. If they had noticed that she wasn’t there.
She paused, “Though I think since technically he was on Thedas before it was called Thedas… so you might need to find somewhere else to send him.”
Hawke waved his hand. “Details, Athera. Details. We’ll worry about it when we get there.” Way better than stressing out too far in advance and getting grey hair prematurely. “But yes, I think you’re right, Fenris would definitely feel better about me charging into war with an Elven god if he was at my side and he’d definitely be an asset.”
Though admittedly if he could keep Fenris out of harm’s way then he would, but Fenris was his own man, he could make his own decision.
Athera snorted. “I’m really disappointed you never took me up on my offer for you to come to the war table. I’d have loved for you to have had that approach with Cassandra and Cullen.”
She took a sip of her drink and leaned backwards. “Last we knew he was headed for Tevinter, which… well, it’ll be an adventure.” She paused, “We have to survive this first, and get home. Here’s to… Equilibrium?”