Chapter Text
“A duel?” Josie’s harsh whisper barely contained her shock.
Ghelen and Dorian both stared at Hawke in utter disbelief, neither saying a word. Mainly because they were afraid to draw Josephine’s ire.
“Yes, also I found these.” Hawke handed Ghelen a handful of nails and fasteners before glancing back at the door her husband was unlocking.
Dorian raised a brow in skepticism. “You expect us to believe that?”
“Well… when I say found… more like strategically removed.”
“From where?” Ghel stared at the metal pieces.
“I’d rather not say.” She grinned. “But you’ll know when you see it.”
“Hawke!” Josie took the nails from Ghel and shoved them into her pocket, despite wanting them to be a distraction, this was a little more than she’d bargained for. Especially if Varric looses.
“I beg your pardon but I am a Tethras, you shall address me as such.”
“Varric. Your wife!” Dorian hissed at the dwarf, still trying to unlock the door to the Royal Wing.
“Do you want me to unlock this door or manage Marian? I can’t do both Sparkler.”
Dorian sighed and ran a hand down his face. Marian had a smug grin on hers as she watched Varric struggle with the lock. “Tip the pick forward dear.”
Varric did so and the door clicked open. He grunted as he stood with a sigh. “There, you guys are good to go in whenever. I’d wait till that idiot is ready.”
“What weapon? Are you seriously dueling him tonight?” Ghel hated to admit, but he was worried. He’d never seen Varric hold anything other than Bianca in a fight.
“Varric picks the weapon as he is the one who initiated the duel.” Josie sighed. “I really wished we could avoid anymore bloodshed. The servant’s quarters was too much.”
“Oh there won’t be bloodshed Ruffles don’t worry.” Varric grinned. “Noble Boy was quick to accept and said it would happen then and there. When I said what the duel would be, I was nice and gave him twenty minutes to prepare.”
“Alright. You win. I’m intrigued.” Dorian sighed.
“A duel of wits.” Hawke grinned matching the dwarf's smug look beside her.
•••
Fenris stared at the little box of candles Vivienne had left him with. He peeked at the book, a collection of sappy poems and verses. A single note was peaking out from a page folded down.
Because I know you’re both bloody useless at talking to each other: have this. Pick one you think she'll like and go for it. There's a grove I spotted during scouting. There will be flowers there tomorrow morning. She wants to be wooed Fen, so go woo.
He smirked and shook his head, how could he forget how much Hawke loved to meddle. The door swung open and a messenger rushed in, delivering a note with urgency. “There’s something you should see.”
•••
The cold mountain air stung her lungs as she desperately tried to take deep breaths. Beth urged the horse faster, they were almost to the castle gates.
“Alistair just hold on…” He mumbled something in reply, which was enough for her. Just acknowledgment that he was still alive. “Make way!” She shouted, galloping past guards and other visitors. They parted, giving her a chance to ride straight for the gate.
“Halt! What business—“
Beth blew past the guard and rode straight for the healer’s tower to the left, pulling the horse to a hard stop. It whinnied and fought her but she was able to climb down and pull Alistair down. A few other soldiers recognized them and helped her carry him into the tower and lay him on a bed. He’d grown sickly pale, and she worried he’d lost too much blood before she was able to heal him. A mage came up beside her and asked for details, what was done, what he was given to deal with the pain or the fever. As soon as she told them everything she was quickly ushered out and told she’d be updated as soon as possible.
“Beth…”
A familiar gravel voiced her name behind her and she practically broke down in tears. “Fen.” She ran to him and pulled him into an unexpected hug, one he returned albeit tentatively. “Fen, I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I just blew right past everyone and—“
“Bethany, what happened?” He watched her solemnly as she looked back at the tower door behind her.
“Someone snuck in to his room last night. We stopped at an inn just off the road. I found him laying in bed this morning… Maker there was so much blood…”
“B?” Krem jogged down the steps and paused at seeing her crying in the elf’s arms. “B is everything alright? Are you hurt?”
“Krem!” Beth pulled away and rushed into his arms.
“She needs some rest.” Fen spoke as seriously as ever, not tearing his eyes from the gates of incoming guest and volunteering recruits. “Bethany, I’ll let your sister know you made it back safe. She will want to know.”
“Thank you Fen. And… it’s really good to see you again.” She smiled sweetly, like she always had, and for once Fen let his lips curl at the corners ever so slightly. He nodded and turned back towards the stairs leading up to Cullen’s office.
Questions ran rampant in his mind. Why would someone target Alistair and not Beth? If they were after wardens, then they both would’ve been hit.
•••
The gathering in the gardens was quite substantial. Word had spread quickly of what had occurred and many wanted to be there when it happened. Hawke came up to the fountain and placed a small hour glass on the marble basin. Varric and Bouchard were face to face, one clearly upset by the turn of events.
“This is ridiculous!” Gerarre huffed and crossed his arms.
“Aww come on. What have you got to loose?”
“Practically nothing, no thanks to you.”
“Right let’s get on with this shall we?” Hawke cleared her throat. “You have until this two minute time glass runs out, whoever fails to come up with a response before the time ends, looses. I will say one word, then since Varric chose this duel he will go first.
“The goal is simple. State a similar meaning word that starts with the sound his word ends with. If I say ‘erratic’ an appropriate reply would be ‘capricious’ then ‘sporadic’ so on and so forth. No repeating, single word responses only and make sure the words have similar definitions. Understood?” Hawke smiled sweetly at them both. When she received a nod from each, she flipped the timepiece over and the sand began to trickle. “Stratagem.”
“Machinations.” Varric turned to his opponent.
Gerarre froze. As though every word he knew suddenly escaped him. He opened his mouth a few times to reply but hesitated.
“Times ticking.” Hawke sang.
“Scheme.” He blurted.
“Manipulate.”
Caught off guard by how quickly Varric replied Gerarre growled in frustration as he thought. “Trap.”
“Pretense.”
“Sham.”
“Maneuver.”
“Ruse.” Gerarre smiled, finding himself amused by this little game.
Varric nodded, finally being forced to think. “Setup.” He held up a finger when Gerarre went to oppose it. “It’s one word.”
The noble sighed and considered his next response. “P. P. What starts with P… plot.”
“Tactic.”
“Merdé. C.” Gerarre put his hands on his hips and started pacing. Varric meanwhile was at least two words ahead again. “Cunning.”
“Guile.”
“Lying.”
“Gambit.”
“Tricks.”
“Subterfuge.” Varric grinned, turning the tables and leaving Gerarre with G. It was always Marian’s downfall when they played this game.
“Ten seconds.” Hawke announced. So far the nobles around them had been watching it intently. Some whispering possible responses to each other behind fans.
“There can’t possibly—“
“There is. Five.”
“Ahhh.” Gerarre snapped his fingers, desperately trying to think of a word as Hawke announced ‘Four… Three…’ The whispers from everyone around him were distracting and he couldn’t think of anything that started with that sound.
“One… times up. Gerarre you loose.”
“There’s no word—“
“Jiving.” Hawke grinned. “As looser of this duel you must commit a thousand royals to each of the orphanages listed in your fathers contract. Do that and we will consider the debt paid in full.”
Varric walked up to the man and extended his hand which he took. “I get that you were pissed. I do, but I’m not cruel ya know. If you had just read it you would’ve seen there was a way out for you. It’s not fair for a man to have to carry his father's debts. I would know.”
“I… Thank you.” Gerarre sighed. “I apologize. To both of you for the things I’ve said. I was too blinded by my anger at my father’s foolishness to see passed the end of my nose.”
“Apology accepted.” Hawke tilted her head and leaned on her husband's shoulder. “Just please be more mindful of what you say. Even when angry.”
“Right.”
“Next time it might be a duel against me. And I let my knives do the talking.” She smiled though Varric could tell she was still upset with the man. She left to return the timepiece to the library, pausing momentarily to speak with a nobleman.
•••
Ghelen stared up at the glowing green light that hovered in the small courtyard. He hadn’t expected a rift. The Duchess springing a trap, yes. She really couldn’t have made it more obvious. But as unexpected as the tear in the veil was, it was the line of archers aiming at his party that had him concerned.
While he quipped with the duchess he looked about the courtyard. Much of it was still under construction… in fact the scaffolding looked like it was barely holding together. He grinned at the structure and turned back at the sound of Florianne leaving. The instant the door snapped shut all hell broke loose. The archer's fired. Dorian brought up a wall of fire over them, Blackwall charged the demon closest to them while Ghelen rolled to doge the arrows aimed at him. He scrambled to his feet and swung his great sword at the only remaining part of the scaffolding that even looked remotely sturdy. It teetered for a brief second, taking far longer than necessary to finally fall over and crush four of the archers and one other demon. The rest of the fight was simple. The rift easily closed. If it weren't for Hawke's well placed mischief this would have dragged longer than it needed to.
He got a kick out of the Fereldan calling his captors 'stinking poncy cheesemongers'. enough so to offer him a contract with the Inquisition instead, which the gentleman quickly accepted. They hurried back to the ball room, running into more venatori on the way. Each set back was an opportunity for Florianne to deliver the killing blow. Though Leliana had made it clear that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he still would rather a diplomat on the throne over someone who's first reaction to not getting his way was a tantrum. A tantrum that had cost lives and displaced families.
He pulled open the door leading into the ball room, startling Cullen who was leaning against it. "Inquisitor!" He recovered relatively quickly, and ushered the elf towards Leliana. "The empress is about to give her speech, What happened you're—"
"When aren't we heroes of legend covered in blood Curly?" Hawke grinned. "Ghel, how'd it go?"
"You're assistance was invaluable Lady Champion." Ghel gave her a quick bow although he was still trying to catch his breath. "However, I must speak with the Grand Duchess. She owes me a dance."
"What?" Cullen switched between Hawke and Ghelen, only to find the elf walking away.
Approaching the Council while covered in blood was definitely not the best way to approach this situation, but he felt he gained enough favor to get away with it. The Dowager certainly liked him. "I believe we owe the court one final dance your grace." He stood at the base of the stairs and watched the brief flash of panic cross Florianne's eyes.
"I beg your pardon."
"Remember to smile, Your Grace, everyone's watching. This is your party after all, wouldn't want anyone to think you've lost control." He clasped his hands behind his back and took another step towards her.
"Who would not be delighted to speak with you Inquisitor?"
"I seem to recall you saying 'All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.' I'm well aware the national past time of Orlais is meddling, but I never thought treason was a subject deemed appropriate." He took another step and she took one back. Good. "After your archers failed to kill me in the courtyard, I was worried you wouldn't save me this last dance.
"Interesting that while all eyes are on Empress Celene and the Grand Duke, it was you who was pulling all the strings in the background, albeit, not very well. Sending Ambassador Briala's people to an assassin's den in this very palace, leaving trails of blood on the floor." He tsked. "Then killing a council emissary with one of your own brothers blades to frame him. That one was just sloppy. You even attempted to scandalize the Empress in such an unflattering way. Honestly, I am new to this Game of yours and I wouldn't have even done what you stooped to. But you get points for ambition. Celene, Gaspard, the Council, everyone you needed to eliminate under one roof. If only you hadn't lost your touch Florianne."
"As entertaining as your wild stories are Inquisitor, you can not imagine anyone would believe such fantasies?" Florianne, to her credit, didn't back down. Even though her voice waivered and she appeared to be on the brink of running.
"That would be up for a judge to decide cousin." Celene spoke from the balcony above her, glaring down at her in disgust as chevaliers approached from the sides.
Florianne took several steps back and turned to run when a knife embedded itself into the ground at her feet, startling her long enough for the guards to grab her. She looked up the stairs at Hawke smiling and fanning herself. Ghelen came up beside her and chuckled. "You lost this fight ages ago your grace, you're just the last to find out."
Ghel walked up the steps, nodding to the Empress and made his way to her. He passed by Hawke who had been suddenly surrounded by nobles, briefly catching her not so veiled threats. “I know you’re all going to miss me when I leave but if you try to follow me I’ll run you through.” He shook his head and stepped out on to the balcony where the future of a powerful nation would be decided... by him.
Mythal grant me strength...