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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.

Chapter List
- 30
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For nearly five hours, Gabrielle ran back and forth between the bar, the kitchen, and the tables of hungry and thirsty customers without a break. There had been a constant flow of people going in and out of the tavern since she arrived. It wasn’t even near the end of her shift, but she was already wanting it to be over so she could leave.

The heat from the kitchens and that of the bodies all packed in like rats in the keel of a sloop, was unbearable. Between that and rushing around, most of Gabrielle’s hair had come loose from its binding and was plastered to her neck and the sides of her face with rivulets of sweat. She was exhausted and hot. With the stresses of work and her everyday life, coupled with the dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, the apostate appeared haggard and much older than her twenty-three years

She had just stepped out of the kitchen with two bowlfuls of mutton stew when someone near the door jostled her arm, causing her to drop the bowl in her right hand. She cursed as hot soup splattered all over her boots and the front of her dress. As she bent to retrieve the dropped bowl, the door to the kitchen opened out and hit her in the bottom, knocking her flat to the floor and sending the second bowl flying. She rose to the sight of small chunks of carrots, peas and meat swimming in globs of gravy covering the front half of her dress

Great. Could this day possibly get any worse?

Just as Gabrielle picked herself up off the floor and began to swipe at the mess with her hands, Danal approached her and pointed to the table in the corner with his thumb.

“You’re up, Gabby,” he said, earning him a glower. “That group’s been sitting there a while. The sister passed me extra coin to get her that table, but I don’t like the looks of her company.” He scowled at the apostate then threw her the bar towel he was carrying. “And for Andraste’s sake, clean yourself up.”

As she wiped the larger chunks away with the cloth, Gabrielle peered across the room to the table to which her employer had referred. She recognized the redheaded Chantry sister right away. Her brother had become completely infatuated with the woman over the previous few months. The people sitting with her, on the other hand, were hidden in shadow, making it difficult to discern anything about them.

The apostate heaved an annoyed sigh as she threw the bar towel onto the floor at her feet. She was still covered in food from head to toe, but it hardly mattered. She doubted a Chantry sister and her friends would add to her meager tips for the day, anyway. She checked her forearm to ensure it was relatively clean and then used it to wipe the perspiration from her brow and to remove any food that may have gotten stuck there.

When she finally approached the table, the Chantry sister was the first one to look up from the group’s conversation. “Oh, hello,” she greeted with a smile and a heavy Orlesian accent. “It’s Gabby, isn’t it?”

“Gabrielle,” the serving girl corrected with an annoyed frown.

“I saw your brother this morning,” the redhead told her. “He ran some errands for me. He’s such a sweet boy.”

The apostate gave a tight-lipped smile, giving her best effort to cover her indignation. It was just like Carver to play around in an attempt to gain the sister’s attention while she worked her ass off all day. The boy was lazy, never giving a damn about the things his sister had to endure just to keep them all fed.

“What can I get for you?” she inquired, a bit more gruffly than she intended.

An ebony-haired woman with yellow-brown eyes wearing a dark blue cloak sneered up at Gabrielle. “Wine,” she snapped.

“That sounds perfect,” the Chantry sister agreed. “I’ll have the same.”

The woman sitting next to the overly rude one nodded her head. She wore a brown cloak and her hair was the same rich dark brown as Gabrielle’s, but her eyes were the color of lapis instead of the apostate’s aquamarine. The most surprising thing, though, was how very much she looked like Gabrielle’s own sister, Bethany.

“I think I shall have the wine as well,” she informed the barmaid with a superior tone and expression.

She may have looked like Bethany, but she certainly didn’t possess the girl’s amiable demeanor. Gabrielle then turned to observe the most handsome man she ever laid eyes upon sitting at the woman in brown’s side. Her breath hitched in her throat as he studied her with a puzzled frown. It almost seemed as if he was trying to determine if he knew her. He continued staring for several moments, his eyes locked with hers until his ebony haired companion emitted a resonant sigh.

“Is it your intention to make us wait for you the entire day while you attempt to make up that nonexistent mind of yours?” she huffed.

He blanched, the bewildered scowl remaining on his face for another long moment before he finally smiled, prompting flutters in the pit of Gabrielle’s stomach. She was completely taken in by his lopsided smirk and the intensity of his hazel-green eyes. That coupled with dark blonde hair, a set of broad shoulders, and the scruff of a few days old beard shadowing his muscular jaw all melded together to form the most perfect man she had ever met, aside from her father, of course.

She felt as if her knees might give way when he at last spoke. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’d like an ale, please…and maybe a bowl of stew. I’m famished.”

“Yes, the same for me as well,” the woman at his side added. “Actually, just bring us each a bowl and a platter of bread and cheese.”

“Sure thing,” Gabrielle replied with a nod, her eyes lingering on the man longer than they should.

When he smiled at her again, she felt her face flush crimson as she returned his gesture with a goofy grin of her own. The woman in brown cleared her throat prompting Gabrielle to realize she was making a complete ass out of herself. A small giggle escaped her lips, before she spun on her heels and quickly made her way to the bar.

Way to go, stupid. He probably thinks you’re some kind of simple-minded idiot now.

The apostate gave a forlorn sigh as she poured three glasses of wine. It wasn’t as if it mattered anyway. More than likely, he was staring at her that way because he was trying to figure out if she was a woman or a man. After placing the wine glasses on a tray, she made to grab a mug for the ale when Danal seized her bicep and pulled her to the side.

His deep brown eyes were full of concern as he lowered his mouth close to her ear. “You watch yourself, you hear me, Gabby?” he warned. “Those people are dangerous, I tell ya. Get ‘em their order quick so they can get the void out of my place.”

Gabrielle arched her brow before pulling her arm from her employer’s grasp. She glared up at him, her green-blue eyes shining with anger. She wasn’t sure about the strange women, but their male companion didn’t seem threatening at all. In fact, his hazel eyes portrayed a man of great kindness and concern. He may have been confused by her awkward appearance, but there was no malice in him that she could see.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” she exclaimed. “What the fuck’s wrong with you, Danal?”

Her employer released her arm, but his tone and his expression weren’t any less menacing. “Those aren’t just any rabble of drunken fools. Didn’t you see that guy’s arm? Blue and grey scale? He’s a Grey Warden, I tell ya’. Don’t you know what they did?”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually buying into that bullshit.” she retorted with disgust. “Grey Wardens would never do what they said. Why would they?”

“You always were a stubborn one, Gabby” the barman huffed. “I just didn’t know you were stupid. I have a half a mind to turn ‘em in myself. And I’d do it too, if it wouldn’t disrupt my business. Just get ‘em served and get ‘em out!”

“Fine!” she seethed. “I’ll get their order together as soon as I can. But if you ever grab me like that again, I swear to the fucking Maker and holy Andraste herself that I will cut your balls off and shove them so far up your ass you’ll have to shit for a week to find them again.”

“That’s it!” Danal roared. “I’ve had it! I don’t care how busy we are. You’re done! I’ve had it with your bad attitude and your smart mouth. The only reason I’ve kept you on this long is because I felt sorry for your poor mother. But I can’t stand it another second. Get the fuck out and don’t you ever show your face in my tavern again!”

Gabrielle’s chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths as she glowered at the man towering over her. She could feel the heat of her magic as fire began to form in her balled fists. One shot, one blast would melt that expression from Danal’s face.

Always ensure your magic serves what is best in you, Gabrielle, not what is most base.

The apostate’s shoulders slumped as the words of her father rang in her ears. If she lost control of her magic, she would lose everything. Her family would lose everything. They were her responsibility. She couldn’t afford to do anything so foolish, no matter how angry she was.

The tray of drinks sitting on the counter next to her caught her attention. She may not have been able to blast the bastard to the void, but she wasn’t about to leave without his feeling the weight of her ire. As he stomped away, she slipped her hand beneath the salver then launched it at the back of Danal’s head, propelling it with a bit of Force magic. She didn’t even stay to witness the aftermath as the tray crashed into his skull. She simply spun on the balls of her feet and strode out the front door.

As she made her way to her family’s home on the other side of the village, her head was filled with a million thoughts. How was she ever going to tell her family she got fired? What would they do without that coin? On the other hand, why was she the only one responsible? Carver was plenty old enough to work and help out. Why was everything always on her shoulders? As it stood, the only thing in her future was a lifetime of the same, and that’s only if the templars didn’t finally come after her and her sister. She would never have a life of her own if she didn’t do something about it.

By the time she passed the Chantry, Gabrielle had made up her mind. She would go straight home, pack her things and run back to Danal’s to ask the Wardens if she could join them. It wouldn’t be an easy life to be certain, but it would have to be better than the one she had been living.

When she arrived home, Gabrielle burst through the door and hurried to her room where she began throwing her things into her old canvas pack. Once she had everything she could carry, she tore off the serving wench’s dress to don a pair of dark brown wool trousers and a thin ivory linen shirt, both of which belonged to her father. She looped the worn leather belt she always wore around her waist twice before buckling it then pulled her old brown leather boots back onto her feet. She had just secured the laces, when she heard her mother calling for her from the narrow hallway outside her door.

“Gabrielle? Gabrielle are you in there? Are you alright sweetheart? Nelia just told me what happened.”

Figures. Old biddy would run right over and tell mother.

Nelia was the worst busybody in Lothering. The only thing she loved more than dishing out the juiciest gossip was delivering bad news to people with feigned sympathy. Gabrielle’s family had lived in a lot of places, and there was always a Nelia in every village. The only life women like her had was finding joy in the misery of others’ lives.

“I’m fine, Mother” Gabrielle answered as she threw her pack over her shoulder and opened the door.

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright,” said Leandra. “But I’m not sure how we’re going to make it with you out of a job now. There’s hardly enough coin as it is.” Her brows furrowed together when she noticed the full satchel on her daughter’s back. “Are you planning on going somewhere? Is it the templars?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “No, Mother. The templars aren’t after me. I…just…”

“Good,” Leandra breathed a sigh of relief. “Maybe since you’re out of work so early in the day, Barlin will have extra deliveries for you to make. If not, perhaps you can see if any of the local farmers need help clearing out their fields for early planting.”

“Mother…”

“You have to do something, Gabrielle,” her mother insisted. “Without that income, I don’t know what we will do. I’m having a difficult enough time keeping Carver from enlisting in the king’s army, especially after what happened at Ostagar. Whatever you do, you have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I already lost your father. I can’t lose your brother, too.”

Leandra continued speaking, but Gabrielle didn’t hear a word of it. As determined as she had been to leave, she knew in her heart she couldn’t go. The truth of the life which kept her bound to that tiny village fell in on her like a ton of stone bricks. She wasn’t going anywhere. No matter how much she hated it at times, taking care of her family was her burden to bear. She pulled the pack from her shoulder and flung it into her room where it hit the foot of her small bed with a thud before bouncing off and landing on the floor.

“I’m going to head to Barlin’s farm now, Mother,” Gabrielle interrupted what she was sure was simply Leandra’s mindless prattling on about Ostagar, a topic which had become very popular in the Hawke household as of late. “I’ll be home sometime after dark.”

Leandra kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Just be careful, darling. I’ll keep a fire under the kettle so your supper will be warm when you return.” Gabrielle forced a tight lipped smile before turning toward the door leading outside. “And Gabrielle…” her mother called, telling her what was going to be said was of a serious nature. “Nelia said Grey Wardens were roaming around the village. Make sure to stay clear of them. The Wardens are very dangerous people.”

“Yes, Mother” Gabrielle sighed heavily with slumped shoulders as she made her way down the short, narrow hallway and out the door. As she headed toward old Barlin’s place, she knew the Wardens in the tavern were probably already on their way out of town, carrying her own hopes and dreams of freedom with them.

After their food was delivered, Leliana and Solona continued speaking in hushed whispers about the arl’s men and making plans to avoid them. Alistair hardly heard a word of it, though. His mind dwelled on the serving girl who was unceremoniously ousted from her job. He felt as if he should know her from somewhere, but he couldn’t quite place her.

Gabrielle

He rolled her name over and over in his mind. It was such an unusual moniker, one he never remembered hearing before. Yet, somehow, it seemed oddly familiar. She seemed familiar. The voice of a man sitting nearby interrupted his musings.

“I can’t believe she threatened to cut off Danal’s balls like that,” the old man laughed. “He’s at least three times her size.”

“Well,” his drinking companion replied. “Gabby was always a little spitfire.”

Gabby…balls…Dammit!

That was it. Alistair remembered exactly who the woman was. He couldn’t believe he didn’t see it before. It had been almost ten years since he last laid eyes on her, and she had aged since then, but it was definitely her. Gabby had been the first girl he ever had a crush on.

The first time he remembered his father visiting Redcliffe when he was seven, Arl Eamon had hired on a few temporary servants to work around the castle for the week to attend the surplus of nobles in King Maric’s wake. One of them was a very tall man with ebony hair who was employed to help in the stables. That man brought his daughter to work with him one day.

A few years older than him, she was the most beautiful girl Alistair had ever seen, with hair fashioned in long pigtails and just a few shades lighter than her father’s. And, just like her father, her eyes were the most stunning green-blue in color. It was a hue the stable boy had only seen once before. The year prior, the Cousland family brought with them an overly tall and lanky bully on their annual visit to the castle. He bore the same aquamarine colored irises.

Alistair had been too shy to talk to the girl, of course, choosing to watch her brush out the horses from his place in the loft. When Kenton found him hiding there, the old man took him out behind the barn and gave him one of the worst beatings of his life for being lazy. When he returned to the stables, bloody and bruised, the girl approached him with a sympathetic smile.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Alistair could only stare at her, dumbstruck, with his heart pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer on hardened steel. Her smile widened, creating small crinkles at the bridge of her nose, which only added to her loveliness.

“I’m Gabby,” she told him. “What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but nothing came out save a long series of unintelligible noises. When he felt tears caused by frustration and embarrassment stinging his eyes, he bolted from the barn as fast as his short legs could carry him. For the remainder of that day, he worked outside the stables, avoiding the girl seeing him at all costs, but peeking through the cracks in the stable walls at her every chance he got.

The next time he saw her was three years later, the second time Maric visited Redcliffe. Gabby still looked like a little girl, only taller, the day she helped her father in the stables. She didn’t stay long that time, however. While her father was busy helping Dennet saddle up horses for the nobles’ hunting trip, his daughter was sent out behind the barn to locate a thrown horseshoe. While she was outside, she was approached and subsequently accosted by the Arl of Denerim’s son, Vaughan Kendells.

Alistair ran in to rescue her, unsure of what he would be able to do considering the boys were older and bigger than him, but Gabby took care of it herself before he arrived. She punched Vaughan in the nose, breaking it with an echoing crack, then told him she would cut off his balls if he ever came near her again. Gabby and her father, of course, were abruptly ousted from the castle grounds in the aftermath and told to never return.

Most of his childhood and half his adolescent years were spent daydreaming about the dark-haired girl with aquamarine eyes. He could scarcely believe he found her after all those years, and she was even more beautiful than he remembered her. How many nights did he spend going over the things he would say if he ever saw her again? He had to locate her, to finally talk to her.

The warrior regarded the woman sitting to his left. She was breathtaking and intelligent, and he was hopelessly in love with her. He so wanted that kiss she gave him when he arrived to the tavern to be real, but it wasn’t. It was all part of a ruse designed to throw off suspicion. Solona would never see him as anything more than her fellow Warden, a friend at best. Not that he thought he had a real chance with Gabby, but given the smile she wore when she was taking his order, perhaps…

And why would any beautiful woman give you the time of day, jackass? Do you think becoming a Grey Warden made you any better looking or more appealing? To anyone?

Still, something inside him told him he had to try. But how? He couldn’t very well just come out and ask Solona for some time to himself to go chasing after some girl. Even if he weren’t positive she would deny his request, given his feelings for the mage, it just felt wrong.

Leliana appeared to know Gabby. Perhaps he could extract information about the former barmaid from her. But how could he do that with Solona sitting right there? He drummed his fingers on the wooden surface of the table for several minutes until his fellow Warden slapped her hand over his.

“Stop that,” she demanded. “It’s getting on my nerves.” She glanced around the room before addressing the redhead sitting across the table. “Privy?” she asked.

Leliana pointed to a door further along the wall. “Over there,” she replied. “The privy is outside and to the right at the corner.”

“I will return momentarily,” the mage told her companions as she rose to her feet.

Once she had disappeared through the door, Alistair leaned in closer to Leliana. “What can you tell me about that barmaid?” he inquired. “The first one?”

A broad and knowing smile formed on the redhead’s lips. “I thought I recognized a spark between the two of you,” she teased.

“Oh, how very quaint,” Morrigan chided. “The fool found a playmate. She does rather seem your type, Alistair. Filthy, ill tempered, and not very bright. A perfect match.”

The warrior shot a glare at the witch before returning his attention to Leliana. “Please,” he entreated. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name is Gabrielle Hawke,” replied the woman in initiate’s robes. “She lives just outside of town with her mother and her younger brother and sister. Since her father died a few years ago, she has been forced to take on the sole responsibility of caring for her family.”

“Outside of town?” he asked. “Do you know where?”

“On the north side, past the bridge,” she answered. “But I don’t know which one exactly. I’ve never been there. I’ve heard her home once belonged to a man who murdered his wife, but you know how rumors are. Perhaps one of the local villagers could be of more help. I have only been in Lothering myself for a few months.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” he pressed. “Anything at all.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I really don’t know any more about her. She never sets foot inside the Chantry as far as I know. The only one I ever really see is her brother. A bit surly, that one, unless he’s attempting to flirt with me. I find his endeavors quite charming at times.”

Alistair shrugged as he spotted Solona walking back toward their table. “It’s alright. Thanks anyway.”

The mage plopped onto her chair with a huff. “It’s not even worth my time,” she complained. “The line to use the facilities is longer than the Theirin lineage. I suppose I will just have to wait.” She scanned the room before leaning in closer to Leliana. “So, when we leave here, you and I will go to speak to the revered mother while Morrigan waits near the Qunari’s cage and Alistair retrieves the dog.”

Leliana presented a nod. “I think that is the most sound plan, and will keep the three of you from being as easily recognized.”

“And the mutt?” Morrigan questioned. “It stands out in a crowd a bit, does it not?”

“You are right, of course,” the redhead agreed. “Alistair should wait for us in the village near the road until we signal him to leave as we pass. Then he can retrieve your mabari and catch up to us at the prison cage. ”

“Then we should go now,” Solona prompted. “The sooner we get this over and done, the better.”

“Alright,” Leliana agreed. “We have to keep up appearances, however.”

“Don’t worry,” the mage told her. “I’ve got that covered.” She turned to Alistair and raised her voice loud enough so that the people around her could hear. “Oh, very well, Adrian. If the stupid dagger means that much to you, go buy it for the Maker’s sake!”

She jabbed him in the bicep with her elbow and gave him a glare to inform him he should play along. “I just think we need some kind of protection in case of attack,” he answered in an overly emotive tone.

“Please,” Solona answered with a roll of her eyes. “You’d stab yourself before anything got close enough to attack you.”

The two old drunks sitting at the next table roared with laughter at that sentiment, which elicited the hint of a sly smile from the mage. “Now, go on dear,” she continued. “I’ll meet you at the market shortly. I’m going to the Chantry with Sister Leliana to say a prayer for the safety of the village.” She then addressed Morrigan. “Marian dear, we will see you later.”

The witch gave a small nod of acknowledgement before taking another sip of her wine. Alistair was the first to rise from his chair, but Solona stopped him before he could proceed by grabbing his hand. She tapped her cheek with the tip of her index finger.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, husband?” she asked, prompting another chuckle from the old men.

“Sorry,” he mumbled before bending down and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Her skin was so soft and the flavor of sweet cream and honey lingered on his lips. He ran his tongue across them to savor the taste, wishing he could kiss more than just her cheek. He would have given anything to call her his, but he knew in his heart that pursuing her was a pointless endeavor.

Without another word, Alistair made his way out of the inn through the backdoor that led to the privy and into the road. His thoughts of Solona were quickly forgotten when he realized he was on the north side of the village. He surveyed the landscape in the distance ahead, but he spotted no houses nearby. The closest he saw were too far away to reach to get back in time to receive Solona and Leliana’s signal.

Maybe she didn’t go home. Maybe she’s still in the village somewhere.

He knew looking for her was futile. Any person with even half a brain would have headed straight home after such an experience, but he had to at least make an attempt to find her. He’d never be able to forgive himself if he didn’t.

As he walked the paths through the village looking for Gabby, Alistair began to fantasize once again about the girl with the brilliant green-blue eyes. It was probably completely selfish and insensitive of him, given the dangers they would face, but he really wanted to get to know her. To maybe even have a sort of relationship with her. If he were anything but a Grey Warden, he would have been free to pursue her whenever he damned well wished. But, given his circumstances, the most he could hope for was to drop in to visit her whenever he was passing through Lothering. Still, it was better than nothing.

After scouring the entire village without any luck, Alistair wandered over to the house where Harley was being kept. He ambled around to the side of the ramshackle hovel, ensuring he could still see the bridge from where he stood. That’s when he spotted something he hadn’t noticed the last time he was there.

A gnarled and withered bush covered a large portion of the outer wall. The thing had obviously been dead for longer than just that winter, but, in the midst of the decaying branches, grew the bud of a perfect, single red rose. How could something so beautiful flourish amongst such death and aberration? He ran his fingers across its delicate petals, fully expecting it to fall apart at his touch, but it didn’t. Neither was it dry nor rough, but soft and alive.

The call of a nightingale resonated from his left, and he turned toward the sound to spot Leliana’s flaming red locks as she and Solona passed by the hovel. Alistair watched them a minute, then took a step toward the door to retrieve his mabari, but stopped in his tracks. He turned to the withered bush and its treasure and simply stared at it for a moment. He stroked the petals again before running his fingers down a few inches from the bloom then gave a tug to the stem. It emitted a snap as it broke loose from the bottom portion.

As he pulled his prize free from the entanglement, the green that remained wilted to black. Within seconds, the entire bush disintegrated into a fine powder and fell to the earth below. Alistair held his breath as he waited for the rose to succumb to a similar fate. The delicate petals trembled then opened just a tiny bit, but not one fell from the bloom.

He walked to the door leading into the house and jerked it open to find Harley waiting for him with drool dripping from his tongue onto the dirt floor. He knelt down and gave the dog a light scratch behind the ears and showed him his prize.

“Someday, boy,” he smiled, “Someday I’ll work up the courage to come back here and give this rose to Gabby.”

Harley gave an excited bark as the warrior tucked the flower into the front of his tunic. That rose was a sign. It had to be. For the first time in a long time, Alistair finally felt something in his life might actually go right for a change.

I guess we all have those moments in life where we consider leaving it all behind and running away. Knowing Gabs the way I do, I don’t think she really ever had a chance. It’s not that I believe she didn’t want to go. I just don’t think she would have made it much further than her own front door before that ever-present weight of responsibility she constantly carried started pressing down on her shoulders. I found it a bit funny that Gabs and her family ended up living in Doc’s old house. Considering everything, I guess fate was trying to bring them together even back then.

Alistair and that rose have been a subject of many conversations over the years. I suppose Varric thought he needed to add a bit more to the romance story he was writing about Alistair and Solona, but my husband never intended to give it to her. It always belonged to Gabs, and Solona was never thrilled about that fact. My husband told me the rose reminded him of Gabs. When he found the single live bud surrounded by so much despair, he saw the same strength and determination in that flower he glimpsed in her eyes.

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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight