Solstice was a day not even Knight-Commander Meredith could keep mages’ families out of the Gallows.
As the pious lit torches and bonfires to drive away the darkness and remember how Andraste brought them the Chant of Light, and the rich of Hightown tried to outdo each other in opulence at the Solstice Balls, most common folk gathered together for a good meal with their families.
New children were introduced to distant relatives for the first time, betrothals officially announced, drunken fights picked over past slights, and those passed during the year were remembered in prayers, or toasts, or in candles lit at empty seats around the table.
It was a day when highwaymen and thugs stayed inside their lairs to celebrate whatever fortunes they had, and even Templars were known to occasionally part with their Brothers and Sisters in the Order to spend an evening with the family of their birth.
Not many people would come to the Gallows for the mages at Solstice, but those who did were not turned away. Orsino had study alcoves and senior enchanter quarters turned to small parlous for his charges and their visitors, and for all those who had – or wanted – no other family than the Circle there was a huge feast in the Hall.
Last year, Mother had spent happy hours preparing Bethany’s favorite dishes, and Gamlen had dropped off a bottle of something far better than his usual swill without comment.
This year Hawke asked Orana for some leftovers without explaining why, wanting to stay far away from the memories of her mother humming happily to herself in the kitchen.
Night fell early, but people were out in force as Hawke made her way down to the docks for a ferry to the Gallows. They were bustling about with parcels of food, unlit torches, and gaggles of excited children in tow. Some were already standing around bonfires in the hexagonal courtyards of Lowtown, warming themselves from the chill and sharing bottles and laughter.
Not even the Gallows seemed as gloomy as they usually were, with acolytes playing with magefire torches in the great courtyard under Orsino’s personal supervision.
Bethany was already there, waiting for Hawke, who threw her arms around her sister in an embrace that perhaps surprised both of them with its desperate force.
Bethany bore it stoically, squeezing Hawke back in kind, and in that moment they shared all those thing they would try not to speak of: what they missed, what they had lost. How each of them was the only family the other had left, orphaned and brotherless, after spending most of their lives in a close-knit family of five. And how it would only take a single loss to leave one of them utterly alone.
Hawke drew a quick breath and straightened, dabbing surreptitiously at wet tracks on her cheeks. Holding her sister at arms’ length she smiled, despite everything. “You look well,” she said, trying not to sound too surprised.
“And you, Sister,” Bethany acknowledged with a similar note of astonishment.
They made their way through the small knots of people talking, laughing, hugging and crying together in the Gallow hallways, chatting about how the dog and Bethany’s students and Aveline’s guardsmen were doing. Bethany showed Hawke to what was very clearly an office with a sheet draped over the desk. As she raised an eyebrow at her sister, Bethany shrugged. “We don’t normally need that many table cloths. No point in buying extras. Besides – this room has a door that closes.”
That was probably a good choice – Hawke had some questions for her sister that the remaining templars might not have approved of, neither in wording or tone.
Bethany calmed the worst of Hawke’s fears about her sister’s immediate safety, and then snatched the bundle from Hawke’s gesturing hands and put it down with an audible thud on the table. “I think we should speak of something more pleasant over dinner,” she said firmly – a living echo of their mother shutting down three squabbling siblings.
Hawke grinned, and helped lay out the food she had brought on the fine china Bethany must have taken from the mages’ dining hall. “What did you have in mind?” she asked.
Grateful, Bethany diverted both their attention to Orana’s delectable cooking – fatty slices of glazed duck and roast winter vegetables kept warm in rune-enchanted crockery, with generous slices of bread and cheese and some rich Antivan dates on the side. Only after they had both sampled a bit of everything did she turn back to Hawke’s question.
“I’ve been curious,” she said lightly “You and Isabela? You seem to really get along.”
Always happy to gossip with her sister, Hawke smirked. “She’s Isabela.”
“If possible, a more shameless flirt than you,” Bethany confirmed, amused. “So, how’s that going?” It was said in the same tone Hawke had heard all the time growing up, when Bethany finally had a break from her studies with their father, and could pester her sister for all the news she had. When Hawke ran out of the latest village gossip and started sharing whatever was on her young, hormonal mind, Bethany didn’t protest at all, leading to her finding out rather more of what her sister was up to than their parents might have liked at such a young age. And Hawke loved it – Bethany didn’t judge (well, almost never – and never without what hindsight would show to be very good reasons), and was always full of excitement and admiration about her sister’s romantic escapades.
“Ah, Isabela,” Hawke smiled.
“So you do get along!” Bethany exclaimed, her eyes twinkling merrily.
“Well,” Hawke couldn’t deny that. “Yes. Isabela is very, uh. Friendly.”
Bethany laughed. “You mean you’ve bedded her already.”
Hawke wasn’t one to blush, but her sister’s mirth at that made her feela tad defensive. “She was very enthusiastic,” Hawke offered in the way of explanation. Enthusiastic, and very experienced – but that was perhaps more detail than she wanted to share with her baby sister. Of course, Isabella’s experience was hardly a secret, but some of the things she’d brought over – no, better that Bethany not enquire too deepl.y
“I bet,” Bethany answered knowingly. “And is this just you two, or is she still…” Bethany didn’t say ‘ sleeping with half the city’, for which Hawke was grateful.
“Isabela’s choices are her own,” she answered.
Bethany’s expressive face grew a little pensive as she nibbled on the duck. “I’m glad you found someone you trust that much,” she said. “But if you’re not serious, either one of you, is there… is there anyone else?” Bethany knew, of course, that Hawke never could resist trying to flirt with those friends she gathered around her, but the question didn’t sound like it was about flirting.
“What do you mean,” Hawke asked – stalling, now.
“I mean,” Bethany said, locking eyes with her sister. “If Isabela doesn’t have your heart, who does?”
Hawke quickly looked down at her plate. Perceptive Bethany. Seeing more than there was to see? Or seeing a truth Hawke hadn’t yet wanted to admit to herself? Bedroom games were fun and easy – games of the heart were where things got difficult, and people got hurt. And wasn’t her life difficult and pain-filled enough already, without…
“Anders,” she heard, and for a moment Hawke thought she must have spoken out loud without meaning to, without knowing that was where the sentence had been heading.
Across the table, Bethany kept going, and Hawke blinked. “You must have seen the way he looks at you?”
It was as if Bethany’s magic was allowing her to somehow voice the silent thoughts Hawke had been pushing into a dark corner of her mind. “Even years ago, when we were still in Lowtown. Every time you walked in to his clinic with me beside you like…”
“Like mages should be free like everyone else,” Hawke quietly finished her sister’s sentence. Yes. Of all the ways to win a heart, simply being the sister she was to Bethany had not been one she had anticipated.
“And he started looking like he’d do anything for you,” Bethany said.
Hawke nodded, slowly, her heart strangely tight.
“Almost,” she quipped. “I can think of at least five exceptions.” Behind the easy words, the question she had been avoiding rose to her mind again. Why was she still just flirting with him? When she so relished the feeling of having his full attention, trusted him by her side in battle, and always felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach at the way his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Was it because of his earlier warnings? But when had she ever cared to obey anyone’s warnings about anything?
“How abut you?” Bethany asked gently. “Sister, is there anything you wouldn’t do for Anders?”
Hawke had no quip for that. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted.
Bethany nodded, a little hint of sadness Hawke couldn’t place in her sweet smile. “And yet you haven’t even invited him to share your bed? That’s unlike you!”
Hawke supposed it was. She had tried to bed him before she knew him – really knew him, like she did now – but his distress at the teasing had made her stop. And now that her presence clearly was much more distracting than distressing to the mage, she had been holding back.
“What should I do?” she sighed with unusual candor. “Bethany?” Hawke didn’t really know what she had expected from her sister, but she got a snort.
“Now I’m old enough to ask?” shaking her head at some private recollection, Bethany reached out a hand across the table to squeeze Hawke’s clenched fist. “I think you deserve someone who would do anything for you,” she said, surprisingly fiercely.
Hawke looked up at Bethany, and felt her sister’s words coursing through her like an electricity spell. “We don’t always get much time, Sister. Take the chances the Maker offers, or if you both live without holding on to what you could have you will live only to regret it.”
The fervor with which Bethany expressed the words took Hawke aback, but she couldn’t deny the truth of her sister’s words. Couldn’t be blind to the tears now in Bethany’s eyes, either.
“Bethany…” she said, not knowing what question to ask, or comfort to offer. “What — can I help?” It was all Hawke could think of, but it made Bethany smile through a sniffle.
“No – no, it’s too late.”
Hawke was afraid to cause her sister more pain, but also afraid to leave her alone with this – whatever this was. “Do you want to talk?” she murmured, offering her sister a cloth napkin for her tears.
“Thank you,” Bethany said, taking the linen square but shaking her head at the question. “Maybe later. There’s nothing you can do – nothing anyone can do.”
“But if somebody hurt you–” Hawke started, wanting to protect her sister from the whole world if something in it made her cry.
“No, nobody did anything. Not to me, not on purpose.” Bethany took a deep breath. “There was a sweet young man – I liked him. The templars said he turned to summoning demons, and now he is Tranquil. That’s… that’s all there is to know.”
Hawke disagreed. She wanted to know more. About this mage her sister had loved. About the truth behind the accusations against him. About who made him Tranquil, so she could pay them a visit and show them — But now was not the time. Later. Maybe Anders would like to help, even.
The thought made her feel guilty joy – she wasn’t afraid of asking him, now. Was looking forward to their next meeting, to ways in which she could resume her flirtation and see if she got the reactions she was expecting.
But first, she would comfort her sister. She would listen, if Bethany wanted to talk, and talk, if Bethany just wanted to forget. She would spend Solstice night in the Gallows, so that her sister wouldn’t have to be alone, and together they could light a candle and toast all those that they had lost.