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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Gabrielle Hawke opened the front gate that would lead her down a narrow path to her final delivery for old Barlin for the day. From where she stood, she could make out a modest stone cottage with a bright red door and shutters nestled among the trees of a small glade of pine and oak. The sound of snow crunching beneath her worn brown leather boots echoed in the air as she pulled her oversized heavy coat tighter around her petite frame. The bottom edges of the coat, which once belonged to her father, dragged the ground, collecting a good deal of the powder as she went.

To anyone watching from a distance, Gabrielle would most likely be mistaken for an adolescent boy wearing his father’s hand-me downs. At only five feet tall and just shy of ninety pounds, she was thin as a birch sapling, and the baggy clothes did nothing to refute that assumption. Even the way she wore her dark sable hair, tied into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, denoted a more masculine appearance.

Before Gabrielle was halfway down the lane, the door of the cottage opened, and a small girl of nearly four years rushed out to greet her. The young woman knelt down and held her arms wide open in anticipation of the child’s embrace. Long dark pigtails bounced against the girl’s slight shoulders as her short legs maneuvered through the snow. She wore no cloak or boots, just a violet smock made of wool and a pair of house slippers.

“Emma!” a woman cried from the door before taking off after the girl. “You need a coat!”

Ignoring her mother completely, Emma continued to run until she leapt into the small woman’s arms. “Gabby!” the child giggled.

Gabrielle pulled the front of her unbuttoned coat around the girl’s body and pulled her close to her chest. “It’s alright, Raeanne,” she told the other woman. “I’ve got her.”

Raeanne had been the Hawke family’s nearest neighbor on the outskirts of Lothering for years, but it wasn’t until after Emma’s birth that Gabrielle and Raeanne became friends. There was a terrible spring storm the night Raeanne’s partner, Diane, went into labor. Raeanne set out into the village to retrieve the local midwife, but she refused to go out in the downpour. She then went to the physician, who merely slammed the door in her face. In desperation, Raeanne finally ended up on the Hawke’s doorstep, begging Gabrielle’s father to help her.

Although he had tried to keep his magic a secret all those years, Malcolm didn’t hesitate to act when Raeanne asked for his aid. He ordered Gabrielle to retrieve his medical kit and bring it along. By the time Raeanne returned home with the healer, both Diane and the baby were in trouble. The mother had been pushing for quite some time, but the child was breech. There wasn’t time to turn the baby around, and Diane was losing blood too quickly, so Malcolm made the decision to cut the child from its mother’s womb.

Once the baby was free, Malcolm placed her in Gabrielle’s arms then went to work on Diane. Unfortunately, it was too late. While Malcolm Hawke was an exceptionally skilled healer, he could do nothing to replace the amount of blood that had been lost. Diane didn’t even have the opportunity to hold Emma before she passed.

Because he realized how grief stricken Raeanne was over the death of her partner, Malcolm offered to leave Gabrielle to help with the newborn’s care over the following few weeks. In that short time, Gabrielle grew very attached to both Emma and her mother. Even after Emma’s biological father, Jacob, agreed to marry Raeanne to help raise the child, Gabrielle remained a prominent figure in their lives and visited as often as her busy schedule allowed.

When Raeanne finally caught up to them, she placed her hands on her hips and glowered at the child. “Emma Diane Barten,” she scolded. “How many times do I have to tell you...?”

“Sorry, Mama,” the girl apologized, her rosebud mouth set in a pout.

The mother shook her head with a smile of resignation as she ran her fingers along Emma’s right braid. A chilled wind blew across the landscape, compelling Raeanne’s long chestnut locks to flutter in the breeze. Pulling her heavy wool cloak tighter to her chest, she shivered against the cold.

“Come on inside,” she said. “Before we all catch our deaths out here.”

Gabrielle shifted Emma’s body to better balance both their weights and followed Raeanne into the cottage. Once inside, she set the girl down and removed her coat and boots. The hem of the loose linen shirt she wore hung down past her knees over a pair of oversized, wool trousers which had to be held up by a belt wrapped twice around her waist. Raeanne scowled at the other woman.

“Gabrielle?” she questioned. “Are you ever going to stop wearing those ridiculous rags?”

The smaller woman exhaled an annoyed sigh. “They’re not rags, Rae. They were my father’s.”

Her friend’s expression softened. “I know, but sweetie…he’s been gone for nearly three years. Not to mention the fact that he was nearly a foot and a half taller than you…and a man.”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. She hated the way everyone around her was always trying to change her appearance. As far as she was concerned, there was only one reason women dolled themselves up in dresses and makeup, and that was to attract men. To Gabrielle, that was about as hopeless as a nug sprouting wings and taking flight. There wasn’t a man in Thedas who would ever find interest in her.

Besides being too short, she had no breasts or hips, nothing to distinguish her from a boy of twelve or thirteen. On top of that, her dark brows were too thick as were her broad lips, the skin of her cheeks and broad nose was blemished with freckles, and her wide nostrils were set too high above her mouth. In fact, the only thing Gabrielle liked about her appearance were her eyes, which were the shape of rounded almonds with crystal green-blue irises, and even those were forever plagued by dark circles in the hollows beneath them.

The truth was, even if there was any man in all of creation who could look past her physical flaws, there was still one very large and glaring problem. Gabrielle was an apostate, just as her father had been, just as her younger sister was. Malcolm taught her from the young age of seven, when she discovered she possessed the gift, that she could never become close to anyone outside her own family. She had to be forever vigilant in never allowing others to find out who she truly was. So, she lived her life as a mundane, only practicing her gift around the confines of her own home, just the way her father taught her and her sister. The only exception to that had been Raeanne, and that was only after Gabrielle discovered Diane had been an apostate as well.

“Not you too,” Gabrielle moaned. “Look, I’m comfortable in these clothes, alright? Besides, it’s not as if I can afford new ones, and I refuse to wear that infernal barmaid’s dress outside of work.”

Raeanne’s brow furrowed as her russet brown eyes filled with pity. She brushed a loosened strand of dark curls from the other woman’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear. With an empathetic smile, she wet her thumb with her mouth then rubbed at a black smudge on the apostate’s cheek.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Gabrielle,” she told her. “There’s no reason to hide it behind men’s clothes and a dirty face.”

The smaller woman pulled her friend’s hand away and took a step back. “Liars go to the void, Rae,” she argued. “And you’re on a fast track there with that bullshit.”

“What have I told you about that?” Raeanne questioned with a scowl. “Don’t make me get the soap.”

“Sorry, mama,” the apostate retorted with a grin.

When she felt a tug on her shirt, she looked down to find Emma wearing an eager expression. “Gabby, can you make fire?”

Before she could reply, Raeanne interjected. “Not today, Emma. It’s too cold outside.”

Ignoring her mother, the little girl stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “Please, Gabby,” she begged as her ice blue eyes began to glisten.

Gabrielle was always amazed at Emma’s ability to spawn tears so quickly and easily. The girl knew she could talk the woman into almost anything in a bid to prevent her from crying. It was manipulative as the void, but it never failed.

“Maybe for a few minutes,” the apostate replied before peering up at Raeanne. “If your mother says it’s alright.”

The other woman heaved a sigh. “It would be nice if you backed me up at least once, Gabrielle.”

The mage’s aquamarine eyes twinkled with mischief. “I don’t have to,” she smirked. “I’m not her mother.”

“Alright, fine,” Raeanne relented. Emma tried to take off toward the door, but her mother stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. “Coat, boots, and gloves first, young lady.”

“But, mama,” the girl quibbled.

Raeanne folded her arms across her chest and waggled her head. “No buts. Coat, boots, and gloves or you’re not going outside.”

The child glowered up at her mother before stomping away to don her winter gear. Once she was ready, the three of them headed into the back yard where Gabrielle began throwing small fireballs at the ground, melting a large patch of snow and scorching the earth beneath. Emma was perched upon the fence and began merrily clapping her hands at the display. As she bounced up and down on the rail, Raeanne stood ready at the child’s back, awaiting her inevitable fall. When the girl finally toppled backward, her mother grabbed her then threw her into her arms.

“Enough for today,” said Raeanne before lowering her daughter to the ground. “Now get back in the house.”

“But, Mama,” the little girl protested.

Her mother held up her hand to prevent any further argument. “I said no, Emma,” she refused. “Now go into the house. It’s almost suppertime.”

“It’s not fair,” the child sulked.

“Well, life just isn’t fair sometimes, little one,” her mother told her. “You might as well get used to it now.”

Emma crossed her arms and stamped her foot before turning toward the house with a huff and marching away. Gabrielle laughed as she leaned against the fence railing and watched the girl until she disappeared into the cottage. As soon as Emma was gone, Raeanne exhaled a long breath.

“What am I going to do with that child?” she questioned rhetorically before returning her attention to her friend. “I’ve got a pot on the stove. What do you say to some tea and a few of my special brownies?”

“Elfroot or Lotus?” Gabrielle questioned with an impish grin.

Raeanne arched a brow. “Do you really think I’d offer you a lotus brownie after the last time?” she asked. “You damn near set fire to the glade.”

“Now who needs her mouth washed out with soap?” Gabrielle teased as she followed her friend to the back door.

“The difference is,” Raeanne said from over her shoulder. “I don’t speak like that around Emma. She looks up to you, you know.”

The apostate shook her head. “Maker only knows why.”

Once inside, Gabrielle removed her coat and boots and sat down at the kitchen table. After Raeanne poured three cups of tea and placed a plate in front of each chair, she served a small brownie to her guest, one for herself, and two sugar cookies for Emma. After settling down in her seat, she took a sip from her cup then frowned.

“I haven’t been to the village since the beginning of last week,” she professed. “Any news of Ostagar?”

Gabrielle put down her cup, her brow creased with concern. “A few soldiers have trickled in,” she began, but paused for a moment to consider the best way to break the news to her friend.

When word of an impending Blight hit Lothering, Arl Bryland sent a few of his soldiers to recruit for the army headed to Ostagar. Feeling it was his civic duty, Raeanne’s husband was one of the first to enlist. After the refugees from further south began pouring into Lothering, Raeanne had done her best to stay out of the village because hearing stories of the monstrous creatures put her on edge.

“And?” Raeanne prompted.

The apostate breathed a long sigh before placing her hand atop her friend’s. “Ostagar was lost, Rae. From the little I’ve heard in the tavern…They’re saying the Grey Wardens betrayed the king and got everyone killed.”

The other woman’s eyes widened with disbelief. “The Wardens?” she questioned.

Gabrielle shook her head. “That’s the official story, but I’m not sure I believe it. There were whispers among a few of the men that Teyrn Loghain retreated before his men were called to attack.”

Raeanne’s gaze moved to Emma who was sitting across the table from her. Her brow creased with worry and tears began to form in her brown eyes. Gabrielle couldn’t even imagine what her friend was feeling in that moment. Although she and Jacob married so they could raise Emma together, the couple grew to love each other over the subsequent years.

“I’ve had this feeling,” Raeanne said, her tone lifeless and flat. “I wanted to wait…to be certain, but…I’ve decided that it would be best if Emma and I left for Highever. I have a cousin there who will take us in.”

Gabrielle’s gut lurched at that news. Raeanne had become like a sister to her and Emma a niece. She had already lost her father to some mysterious illness three years before. The idea of losing anymore family was almost more than the young apostate could bear. Family was everything to Gabrielle. There was nothing in the world that meant more. Although she didn’t always get along with them, she would do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant losing her own life.

“Raeanne,” the smaller woman whispered with tears flooding her eyes.

“Gabrielle, you know I love you, and I will miss you terribly,” the other woman croaked. “But I have to do what’s best for Emma. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“But…”

“Why don’t you and your family come with us?” she asked. “My cousin surely knows someone who could put you up for a few weeks until you get settled in with a new job.”

It was a good offer, but Gabrielle couldn’t stomach the idea of relocating again. After spending over half her life moving from one hold of Ferelden to another, her family had finally found somewhere they could call home. She couldn’t pick up and leave everything behind again on a mere chance that the darkspawn would attack Lothering.

“I…I can’t,” Gabrielle stammered. “I appreciate you asking, but…”

Raeanne nodded her understanding as she gripped the other woman’s hand. She knew exactly what her friend was feeling. There were many times over the years since they became friends that Gabrielle mentioned how happy she was to be settled somewhere.

There was so much that Gabrielle wanted to say to Raeanne. She wanted her to know how much she appreciated having somewhere to go when things became too difficult at home. How she didn’t think she could have made it through her father’s death without the older woman’s sympathetic ear. How Raeanne had become the older sister she never had, never thought she needed.

Before Gabrielle could convey the words, she was interrupted by a heavy pounding on the front door. Always vigilant of the possibility of templars discovering her gift, the apostate picked up Emma and rushed her into the next room. Even at such a young age, the child had begun to exhibit signs of magic and Gabrielle would not allow her to be taken, not as long as she still drew breath. Fortunately, Jacob had built a safeguard in the house before he left in the form of a small compartment beneath the bedroom floor. After throwing the rug back and opening the trapdoor, Gabrielle held her back to the wall and waited, praying to the Maker that the alcove wouldn’t be needed. She placed her index finger over her lips to tell Emma to remain quiet as she eyed the front entrance through the minuscule crack in the bedroom door.

She watched Raeanne straighten the wrinkles from her dress then open the door to the sight of a man with cuts and bruises all over his face. He wasn’t a templar, but he had the hardened look of a soldier about him. He spoke to Raeanne for only a few moments before she fell to her knees and began sobbing. Gabrielle didn’t need to hear the words. She knew it in that instant. Jacob was dead.

Gabs always did have a bit of a self-esteem issue. When I met her, she was still wearing our father’s clothes and doing her best to look like an adolescent boy. I have my doubts that her attire really had anything to do with her lack of funds. I believe it was a crutch more than anything else. After all, if she made herself look as unattractive as possible, she could convince herself that the oversized clothes and dirty face were the reason no men ever showed any interest in her. It was pointless, really, because even back then, she was still one of the most beautiful women I ever met.

I asked Gabs once why she didn’t take her family and run when Raeanne offered her the chance. She just looked at me for a long moment and replied “Because it was our home.” Home and family were everything to Gabs. That rickety old house in that backwater little village represented the only semblance of stability that she had ever known.

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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight