Rite of the Maleficarum

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Unfortunately, rest had not found any of them, as Sebastian was the last to rap on Hawke's Hightown estate door late that night. Fenris let him in, Bodahn having gone to bed hours before. Varric had found a comfortable spot half-snoozing on the lounge, having arrived with a head start on the others in regards to ale consumption. Aveline paced near the stairs, her mood hovering just below the level of frantic. Anders lounged by the fire, staring longingly at the Mabari hound, Legion. Fenris knew him well enough to know he was far more likely to be daydreaming about kittens than dogs. Aveline almost plowed straight into Hawke as the latter emerged from the cellar with a bottle of wine. Hawke immediately poured Aveline a glass and passed it to her in a way that did not suggest consumption. Fenris took the bottle from Hawke as Aveline downed her glass, and made the rounds to offer refills. Sebastian leaned against the wall near the fire, lost in thought. It was likely he had been at the Chantry praying since their return.

"Merrill's not coming, I'm guessing?" Varric asked as Hawke joined him on the lounge. Hawke shook her head, gratefully accepting the refill as Fenris passed with the wine bottle. He thought he'd never seen Hawke look so tired, except maybe the night her mother died. As completely awful as that situation had been, Hawke had handled it with a surprising amount of resilience. He recalled wondering at the time if it seemed like old hat to her by then. He knew it was an awful thing to think, but truly Fenris could not put himself in her shoes. He often thought of going to her in the days following the incident, but when he imagined what he would say, nothing came to him. He could not imagine having a mother to start with, nevertheless what it would be like to lose one in such a traumatic way. Did it benefit Hawke to hear condolences from someone who could not even begin to empathize with her situation? Sure, Fenris had lost everything, memories of an entire lifetime before he was branded with these markings. But if he had no recollection of what he'd lost, was it really the same? By the time he had himself convinced that Hawke would like to know he was thinking of her, whether or not he could understand her plight, she seemed to have bounced back.

"Can blood that isn't… fresh… even be used in blood magic?" Hawke interrupted his thoughts, offended by her own question.

"Not that I've ever heard of," Anders responded.

Fenris agreed, shaking his head. Something wasn't right about all this, he knew. The apostates must have known that gathering blood in such a way would be useless to them, so why do it?

Aveline somehow made the act of sitting down look restless and said, "This is a terrible injustice. I am ashamed that something like this could happen so close to Kirkwall. I will triple patrols along the Wounded Coast."

"That's not necessary Aveline. You can't possibly think this was the fault of the guard?" Hawke asked.

"The Wounded Coast is our responsibility."

"This cave was a great distance off the paths, most of the people we spoke with had never even heard of it. We were lucky that Varric knows some pretty shady, and quite old, people," Anders said.

"Yeah," Fenris scoffed, "Lucky." Anders gave him a look.

"I understand. I still intend to do everything in my power to help work towards righting this wrong," Aveline was staunch.

"Thank you, Aveline," Hawke said sincerely.

"Do we know where they…" Varric seemed like he was being careful, "…got them?"

Hawke shook her head, "No, they were mostly elves. I didn't… attempt a better look."

"Patrols near the alienage have been busy over the last year, maybe they've been accumulating them slowly over time, as not to draw attention?" Aveline suggested.