Chapter Text
“You can stop glaring at me, all I’m saying is that this is supposed to be a place of healing, and then you bring slavers here?”
“We didn’t bring them here; they were living next door to you this whole time! Have you never noticed them? I suppose it is too much to expect a mage to notice anything but what involves themselves.”
“You know, somehow we managed to avoid them until the very day you showed up.”
“You cannot suggest this is our fault?”
“He nearly killed those kids! Right in front of the clinic! The refugees all desperately need help, you think anyone is going to come and ask for it here if they are being attacked right outside?”
“Listen, mage—"
“Alright! Let’s all just take a breath, we are all on the same side here! Broody, stop fingering your sword, you’re not helping.”
“He—”
“Listen, the good news is that we got the slavers, so Blondie, there shouldn’t be any more attacks in front of your clinic. And the kids will be alright, right? Why isn’t she waking up?”
“I… don’t know. There will be a bit of residual bruising to her throat for a while, there was a lot of tissue damage, but the only reason she would still be out is if she went without oxygen for longer than we know. Which would be very bad.”
Kate squeezed her eyes tighter, trying her best to breathe normally. Lying on her side with her back to the group, she at least didn’t need to control her face.
“Can’t you just give her another healing potion? Or use magic?”
“I can, and I did. It sped up the healing, but her body still needs to complete the process by itself.”
“What did the boy say?”
“He’s incoherent about the attack, I don’t think he’ll remember any of it with the blow he got to his head.”
“This really is a beautiful dagger. I used to know a blacksmith back in Rivain who made daggers exactly like this. I wonder if it’s one of his? The curve of the handle, this inlay here, look! I mean, the blade is actual silverite! Where on earth did she get it? I wonder why she didn’t use it?”
“You called her Cat. I take it you know them?”
“Yeah, Cat, and the boy is Hank. They’re part of a group of Fereldan orphans that live around here somewhere. She only started showing up about a month or two ago, but it’s pretty clear the others all defer to her.”
“Are you saying she’s the leader? Of a gang of urchins?”
“I’d hardly call them a gang. They’re just a group of kids trying to survive. I’m pretty sure they weren't a group until she arrived, though. It does seem that things are slightly better for them, they seem to have more purpose these days. The older kids aren’t just begging anymore. I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re clearly reporting to someone somewhere. And some of them started helping me in the clinic, and they bring me herbs, Cat’s even teaching some of them to brew potions.”
“You ask orphans to bring you herbs, Anders?”
“No! I’ve told them several times they’d be better off selling it, but they keep refilling my stock. At this point, they pretty much just come and go as they please. I really have no control over any of it.”
“So,” Hawke casually joined the conversation, “you somehow managed to become the pet project of a gang of urchins?”
The warden sighed, “They’ve all lost their parents in the Blight.”
“And you are a warden.”
“Were. The tense doesn’t seem to make a difference.”
Kate let the conversation roll over her, guilt clouding her mind. The warden thought that she had made the lives of the others better, but it was her fault that Hank had gotten hurt today. The witch had told her not to be curious, and she didn’t listen, and Hank had almost been taken. She didn’t know that boys had to worry about the same things as girls! Somehow, she just never thought about it. But that slaver wanted a boy, he wanted Hank, called him a “plaything”. Thinking of all the times she just happily sent Hank and Pryce to go do guard duty at night without even considering this sent icy chills down her spine.
How could she have been so careless? She wasn’t making anything better, she just exposed all of them to more danger! Pryce had asked her so many times to leave Sadie and the other small kids hidden in Darktown, yet she insisted on taking them up top, she even let Sadie run around by herself sometimes! Mythal'enaste, what if something like this had happened to them!
The Restlessness hit out of nowhere, the gnawing ache to move to get out to do… something… She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t listen anymore, couldn’t stand the warden thinking she was doing good, when all she’d done was put everyone in danger. She couldn’t even find them a home! Maybe she could go to the Quiet Place, and then they’d all just go away, and she could leave when they weren’t looking.
“Like I said, Hawke, you can have the maps, provided I can count on your help when I hear from Karl. As soon as I can arrange a meeting, we have to go get him. It cannot wait.”
“Except that we are waiting, Anders. For both him and the girl. I would like to hear her account of what happened outside. It doesn’t make sense that a slaver would try to grab them here in such a populated area.”
“And by himself, too, we killed all his backup.”
She couldn’t reach the Quiet Place; her mind was racing too much, the Restlessness was already rooted too deep. It was a physical ache now, the need to move enveloping her very skin, making her feel like she either had to jump up or tear it off.
Hawke spoke quietly, calmly, uttering her name without fuss, like she knew, like she could see Kate squirming even though she was keeping perfectly still.
“Kate.”
It was as much as she could endure. She couldn’t stay, couldn’t face them, more than anything, she couldn’t face Hank, not after what she had almost cost him. In one heartbeat, she rolled off the cot and dashed to the door, not looking at the faces of the people she left behind. People were calling after her, but she didn’t stop, didn’t listen, just ran.
She was nearly at the door when she almost ran into Adelaide, who was entering the clinic, followed by Sadie, both of them looking worried.
“Cat!” Adelaide cried in surprise, but she didn’t stop for them either—the sight of the relief briefly flashing over Adelaide’s face only made the need to get out so much bigger. She ran to the nearest lift, restlessly pacing inside while it made its slow ascent to the top, and before it even came to a shaky halt, she was running again. Running for the nearest roof, where she scrambled up, and just ran, without thought for where she was running to, only focusing on the from.
How had everything become such a mess? Why hadn’t she just gone back to Denerim? Why did she even think she could leave in the first place? This could never have worked! Why would she think it could? In the past three weeks, she had nearly killed someone, nearly been killed herself, and nearly witnessed two of her friends being taken against their will. She had wanted to rip that boy’s throat out with her teeth that night, wanted to sink Keili’s dagger straight into her face—the compulsion to do so had nearly overpowered her, nearly turned her into a killer.
But she had killed, hadn’t she? She had killed Sal all those months ago, even after she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t become a killer, she had ended up being one anyway. And now she almost got Hank caught. Nothing was going right.
Night had already fallen, the streets of Kirkwall taking on that feeling it did when the good people started hiding and the gangs took over.
Good people. She would love to meet them.
She kept running and leaping over the alleys until she couldn’t run anymore, the pain in her side eventually forcing her to stop and gasp for breath, her legs trembling and her bruised throat burning as she sucked in great gulps of air. It didn’t hurt like before the warden had healed her, but she knew that the potions could only do so much.
Falling into a sitting position, she focused on her surroundings for the first time. She had run to the Docks. Looking out over the harbour, she could see a lot of ships bobbing in the light reflected by the sliver of the single moon above—none of them the Dancing Princess.
Her heart ached for them.
She wanted to sit next to Marion’s warm body, to listen to Eye-Patch complain about the rats, to brew potions with Leeches, to listen to Wilder explaining things even though no one listened, to race Larry to the crow’s nest, and to read the maps with Cap.
She wanted not to worry about food for orphans, or being cold, or being attacked for just existing, or turning into a killer.
What a lost little feline you are, and yet the mice all follow you.
She had thought she was going to die tonight, she had really believed that that would be her end, being strangled by the lowest kind of scum walking Thedas, right there in the saddest, most desperate place in the Free Marches.
She wanted her mum. And she could never ever have her again.
She sat until she started to shiver, the cold of the autumn night seeping into her bones, the shred of moon reflecting the very smallness she felt. She couldn’t stay there. And she couldn’t face the others. Dejectedly, she turned around and slowly made her way to the only person in Kirkwall her aching soul was willing to face.
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Varric didn’t know how long the girl had been hiding in the shadows, watching him from above, before he became aware of her. He continued writing, putting words on the paper in front of him, even though they ceased to make sense.
It had only been a couple of hours since she had run from the clinic, but in the dark, a couple of hours in Kirkwall amounted to more trouble than you could find within a week in the daylight. It had taken some time to calm her friends, to convince them that she was alright, just a little upset, and that she would no doubt return as soon as she felt better. Blondie had offered for them to stay in the clinic for the night, but they were eager to return to the others waiting for news.
The whole thing was such a mess. Varric wanted to help them, but in the moment, he had had no idea what to do. All he could do was pray to Andraste herself that the kid hadn’t run from one slaver to the next. Scratching meaningless words on the paper, he let the relief of seeing her still in one piece settle over him before he got up and walked the few steps from his rooms to the stairs leading down to the pub.
“Norah!” he lifted his voice to gain the attention of the waitress passing near him, “Is there any food left?”
“Not this again!” she huffed, looking up at him with an angry hand on her hip, “It’s well past midnight!”
He didn’t have the energy to get into it. “Please?”
She glared at him a moment longer before she stomped off to the kitchen.
When he entered his room again, Kate’s voice finally pierced the silence inside. He winced at the hoarseness of it.
“If that’s for me, I’m not hungry.”
“Maybe it’s for me,” he shrugged as he sat down and resumed his scribbling. He was at a total loss for what to do next, what it was that she needed from him, so he just acted exactly like he always did. Somehow it must have been the right thing to do, as she finally left her perch on top of his little washing room and silently dropped next to him.
“What are you writing?” she asked, apparently unable to turn off the sass even when she was upset, adding, “A love letter?”
He scoffed at her as he dramatically put his quill down. “Listen, Catnip, just cause you read some of my letters once, it hardly means you know everything about me. There’s a lot more to know, let me tell you that!”
“Like what?” she asked, seeming genuinely curious.
“Well, for one, I write books.”
“You do? What books?”
Varric tried his best to keep acting normally, to not react to her gut-wrenching appearance. It was some of his best acting, if he had to say so himself. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and yellow bruises encircled her throat, the last part of the healing her body had to do by itself, according to the mage. But it was the look in her eyes that got him right in the gut. He’d only met her the one time, but there had been such life and mischief and curiosity dancing in her eyes that night it was hard to reconcile with the dull, lifeless expression he found there now.
A surge of protectiveness he had rarely felt in his life raced through him, the need to rekindle the life in her eyes an almost visceral thing. Instinctively, he knew that it was the last thing he should show her, that she needed him to act like nothing was wrong.
“All kinds of books.”
“Can I read some?”
“Uh…” He suddenly couldn’t think of one that would be appropriate.
“They’re like the letters, aren’t they? See, you do only know to write one kind of thing.”
“Kid…”
He was spared any further response when Norah entered and ungraciously dropped a tray next to him on the table, before she turned around and left without acknowledging either of them.
“I’m not hungry,” Kate said again, staring at her feet.
“I’m not your mother, Catnip, eat or don’t eat, it’s no skin off my back.”
She winced slightly before she looked up to meet his eyes again. “I can’t go back, Varric.”
“Ever?”
“I’m not safe… Ha’hren Nerion always said…” her voice dwindled off as she stared at her feet again.
“Well, then I suppose it’s good that you’re here, cause I’m very safe. We can cancel each other out.”
She snorted at that, a flash of humour darting across her face before it disappeared again. Good, she’s still in there. He absentmindedly picked up an apple from the tray and started to rub it clean against his shirt.
“There’s an extra couch in the bedroom, you should fit. You can stay here tonight. There are blankets and pillows—”
“In the cupboard to the left, I know,” she said, the corner of her mouth picked up in the slightest of smiles.
“Of course you do,” he sighed.
He realised that her eyes hadn’t left the apple since he’d picked it up. He tossed it at her, and she deftly snatched it from the air before she turned around and disappeared into the other room.
Well… shit.
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Varric stood next to Hawke as they both stared at the tiny heap on his couch. It consisted mostly of blanket with a lot of hair poking out at one end. Near the other end was one dirty foot.
“And she’s just been hiding here on your couch for a whole day? We’re talking one sunrise and one sunset and everything that goes between them?”
“There’s probably been a moonset and a moonrise somewhere in there as well,” Varric responded. He kept his voice as light and glib as ever, but the frown on his face belied the tone. He shrugged and shook his head helplessly when he met Hawke’s eyes. Not knowing what to do with the depressed teenager on his couch, he’d been too afraid to leave his rooms, hoping that one of his friends would eventually come looking for him and offer advice.
Hawke turned back to the immobile little heap, “Your friends are looking for you, you know. That boy Hank and another girl even came looking for us in Lowtown to ask if we’d seen you.” The heap made the tiniest of movements at that, before it quieted again.
Hawke turned back to Varric, “I told you, you were wrong about her. At the end of the day, she’s just another lost little orphan that needs someone to take care of her because she couldn’t do it herself.”
Varric only had time to narrow his eyes at her before Kate threw the blanket off and sat bolt upright, her curly hair in such a state of disarray it would probably only be possible to untangle it with blood magic. The inappropriate part of his mind wondered if Merril would be able to convince a demon to help with that.
“I know what you’re doing!” the girl declared, glaring at her, “And it’s not going to work!”
“You’re sitting up, aren’t you?”
“Only cause you’re so annoying!”
“How many times have you heard that this week, Hawke?” Varric asked sardonically.
“You do realise I live with Carver,” she answered, rolling her eyes, “so about a thousand.” She smirked at the girl, “Try harder.”
“I’m not trying anything, just go away and leave me alone!” Kate exclaimed angrily before she disappeared beneath the blanket again.
“You’re shit out of luck, darling, cause I’m not going anywhere until you come with me,” Hawke said unsympathetically.
“Where are you going?” Varric asked, unable to mask the slight note of alarm clinging to the question.
He wasn’t surprised that Hawke was trying to help, in her own… charming way. He’d never once seen her turn away anyone in need since they started working together, but she didn’t exactly have the soft, motherly touch the situation required. If she was anything, it was undoubtedly the crazy aunt. He should’ve sent for Leandra, he suddenly realised, why hadn’t he sent for Leandra?!
“I’m not going anywhere!” Kate’s muffled voice sounded beneath the blanket.
“I’ll give you a sovereign to come with me.”
Of course it worked. Blondie did say that she had spent all of her energy the past couple of months trying to provide for her little gang.
Kate sat up again, blanket falling to her lap. “You would not…” she argued feebly.
Slowly, Hawke opened her coin purse and removed a sovereign, making sure to keep the girl’s attention as she opened her palm to show it to her, before suddenly flicking it in her direction. Kate’s arm moved at lightning speed as she snatched it from the air. She turned it around in wonder, staring at it, while Hawke muttered something about rogues that he didn’t quite catch.
“And all I need to do is come with you?”
“Yes.”
“Fine,” Kate said, throwing the blanket completely off and heading towards the door.
“Not that way,” Hawke stopped her, looking up at the window above the washing room. “That way.”
The girl merely changed course and climbed to the upper level, hovering by the window as she waited for Hawke.
“You owe me a sovereign,” Hawke said to Varric beneath her breath, before she joined her.
“You didn’t have a silver in your purse?” he called after her, as she saluted him from the open window before disappearing into the night.
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Kate had never given much thought to the fitness of mages in general. They liked tinkering with potions and spells, liked dusty old books and tomes, and the few she did see in battle always hovered on the edge of things, using range to their advantage like archers did. Therefore, she always imagined them more on the lower end of the fitness scale.
Charlie Hawke did not appear to be on the scale. Charlie Hawke flew across the rooftops of Kirkwall like she was a hawk in human form, swooping through the night like there was nothing stopping her, including her own body. Kate couldn’t remember the last time she had trouble keeping up with anybody. In Denerim, she had been the fastest of the Red Jennies since she turned ten, and in Kirkwall, the only people really interested in running the roofs with her were Hank and Sadie. Larry did win her to the crow’s nest—not every time!—but she had no doubt that she could win him in a foot race. Or a roof race, as the case might be.
Somehow, she just couldn’t quite get ahead of Hawke, who must have been ten years older than her at the very least, and neither a warrior nor a rogue. At first, she just wanted to humour the older woman, to earn her sovereign—Creators, I actually have a sovereign in my pocket!—but when realising that Hawke was leaving her in the dust, it had first made her want to keep up, and then made her want to pass, and she just couldn’t quite get there, which was infuriating! The woman really was just infuriating; she didn’t care how much Athenril sang her praises!
Not even the low light of the moon made Hawke falter, even though Kate felt that as a human it should’ve at least deterred her a little! The sliver of moon hung somewhere just after it’s dark phase—the second nowhere in sight—valiantly crawling towards a distant fullness. Hawke effortlessly avoided another low protrusion of a chimney, something that would make most people trip even in full light. Infuriating!
It was a bit of a relief when they neared the steps leading to the Foreign Quarter, the alley between them and the next roof more than double the width of the normal alleys between the inner buildings. When they were forced to go foot level, it would surely put them back on equal footing.
Kate already started to slow her pace, but to her utter surprise, Hawke kept running straight for the edge without stopping and leapt into the vast open space between them and the next roof. Stopping short in shock, Kate didn’t know if she should cover her eyes or witness the woman’s inevitable plummet to the ground below.
As Hawke’s arc started to turn downwards, a forgotten wooden plank on the roof in front of them lazily started to roll off the roof into the open space, just in time for Hawke to land on it and leap straight off again to the roof on the other side.
Turning around, her shoulder-length hair dancing in the breeze, she gave Kate a smirk. “Coming?”
Dear Creators, she didn’t want to! The plank was hovering unnaturally in the open air in front of her.
“Scared?” Hawke taunted.
She’d be damned if she let that mage beat her! Taking a couple of steps back, she took a running jump, the plank dipping slightly beneath her foot when she propelled herself from it. She gave an involuntary squeak as she landed on the very edge of the opposite roof, for a moment thinking that she was going to tip backwards before Hawke caught her by the upper arms and pulled her closer.
“Come on!” she laughed, and grabbing Kate’s hand, she pulled her behind her as she took up her mad sprint again.
“Where are we going?!” Kate yelled as she started running behind her. It was exhilarating, even though she really didn’t want it to be, and giggles and squeaks started to leave her involuntarily as Hawke made more planks and crates float into the open spaces, giving them purchase they wouldn’t normally have.
“The Keep!” Hawke exclaimed, laughing herself, and knowing what their destination was, Kate focused all her energy on pulling ahead. She hadn’t known that she trusted Hawke until she started to jump into the open spaces, even before Hawke levitated the extra footholds; she simply leapt, trusting that she would. Since the Viscount’s Keep was the tallest building in all of Kirkwall, they had to climb the last bit when they finally reached the end of their mad dash.
When they reached the top, Kate, only a hair’s breadth ahead of Hawke, she rolled onto her back on the roof, and breathing heavily, giggled into the night. Hawke was quietly laughing next to her, her eyes sparkling as they met Kate’s.
They stayed there for a moment, catching their breath, before Hawke eventually got to her feet and walked to the very edge of the roof, facing Kirkwall. She spread her arms dramatically and in an equally dramatic voice declared, “I give you… the City of Chains!”
Without bothering to get up, Kate crawled closer, arms resting on the edge of the very highest peak it was possible to reach within the city. At that moment, in that place, it felt like the highest place in the whole world. Her heart beat so fast, for the first time in a long while, not in fear or trepidation, but with the very joy of just being alive, being able to move, being able to leap and fly!
Below them, the city spread, lights blinking far below them as the night dwellers went about their business. From here, it was even possible to imagine that their business could be noble, the lights twinkling beneath them reflecting the pure light of the stars above. You could even see the Docks from here, lights shining from the ships as they bobbed in the harbour, a single light a bit farther out heralding the approach of another ship in the bay.
It was breathtaking. It was all city, and for the first time since the day she arrived, it almost felt like it could be hers.
Turning her head towards Hawke, her breath stilled as she observed the woman. She was standing on the very edge of the roof, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet as she toed the abyss in front of her. Her head was thrown back and her arms spread wide, the breeze playing with her hair and loose tunic as she basked in the drop of moonlight. Kate didn’t know what to make of her in that moment; she seemed more uninhibited than anyone she had ever met right then.
“Have you ever howled into the void, Kate?” Hawke asked suddenly, focusing her shining eyes on her. “Ever just let go into the abyss?”
Hawke threw back her head again and, without thought for anyone or anything, started howling. Kate didn’t know if she should laugh or run for help, and vaguely wondered if this was how Cap felt when she was swinging from the very top masts in the thunderstorms. Yet… the Restlessness inside her was scratching to be let outside to play.
Hawke was clearly, without a doubt, batshit crazy.
And Kate loved it.
There was something so enthralling about the way Hawke could look at an almost black sky and still feel the need to howl into the abyss. It looked… freeing…
“Come on, Kate,” Hawke cajoled, “you’re not too proper to let go, are you?”
Getting to her feet, she stepped right to the highest point in all of Kirkwall, threw her head back and howled right along with the crazy mage.
It was cathartic. Something moved in her, something wild and cooped up, finally breaking free into the night. Next to her, Hawke was laughing, before she howled again, and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably. And then, in an instant, all the weight of her world sank onto her, all the desperation she had felt since Mum died, all the fear of having to run —always having to run!— always having to be on guard, and not just for herself anymore, crashed into her as the howling and laughter turned in screams of rage and desperation, and she yelled her frustration into the night, screamed her anger until her bruised throat protested and she fell to her knees, right there on the edge of the roof, tears she couldn’t stop streaming down her cheeks.
Hawke silently sank down next to her and just waited as the floodgates opened and Kate let herself fully cry all the tears she had so carefully locked away. The breeze gently swept over her wet face as it caught her hair, blowing her tears over Kirkwall.
Eventually, she quieted, utterly spent, both empty and raw at the same time. Finally, Hawke spoke, without looking at her, still staring out over the city.
“You cannot let them win.”
“What’s the point?” Kate whispered hoarsely. “When everything just keeps getting worse?”
“Let me guess, it’s all your fault?”
“What do you know? You weren’t there!”
“Do you know I had a sister?”
Kate didn’t answer, only looked at her in confusion.
“I was responsible for her, I was responsible for all of them. After the darkspawn invaded Lothering, it was my duty to get my family out safely, and I failed them. Bethany died because of me. Mother lost a daughter because of me, Carver lost his twin…”
“Charlie… It’s not your fault darkspawn took over Ferelden!”
“Nor is it yours that slavers are trying to take over Kirkwall.”
Kate scoffed.
“I know there’s more to your story, and I don’t expect you to suddenly go sharing all your secrets. But what I do know is this,” she turned to look Kate straight in the eyes, “we can never give up. All we can do is keep trying, and the truth is that we will fail. You won’t always get it right. But honestly, what other choice is there?”
“If I’m going to fail anyway, why even bother?”
Charlie sighed, looking back over the city before she answered. “We do it for the times it does make a difference; we do it for the times it may change things. Even if it doesn’t, at the very least, sometimes it matters just that someone tried.”
They sat for a while longer while the words sank in.
“I miss my mum.”
“What happened?”
“The Blight.”
Charlie simply nodded before she sighed. “Fucking darkspawn…”
“Charlie… I can’t take care of all of them by myself, and I can’t ask them to do the things that I do.”
“It’s their choice to make. Besides, when you think about it, isn’t it a bit arrogant to just assume your actions are what will decide their fate? I’m pretty sure that’s up to the Maker, or Fate, or whoever’s in charge of all of this.”
“I’m Elven.”
“Well then, Mythal, or Fen’Harel, or whoever.”
“I know you know it can’t be Fen’Harel.”
Charlie only smirked at her as Kate sighed and got to her feet.
“Oh, good, are we done here? I’m freezing my knickers off.”
“Are we going back now?”
“Actually, I have one detour left for the day. Want to come?”
“Do you pay by the hour?”
Charlie snorted, “I think the sovereign ought to cover your services for the night.”
They made their way back to the city below as the slither of the lonely moon shone as bright as it could in its diminished state, over this place they both came to call home, this City of Chains. In their own way, both of them determined anew to break as many of those chains as they could.