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They didn’t quite know how to treat Saskia in Orzammar. Dwarves would swing wildly from awe and respect due to her status as a Warden, to scorn and derision for the brand who’d dared to make a mockery of their proving just a year prior. One lady had struck up a conversation and seemed quite content to chat until she put two and two together and realised who exactly she was talking to. She’d paled considerably and hastily left with little more than a jumbled goodbye.
It was almost a relief to pass the gateway that split Dust Town from the rest of the city. Folks didn’t care who you were down there unless you were an easy mark. Saskia imagined that her rather eclectic companions probably helped keep most would-be muggers at bay; between Alistair in his plated armour, Zevran with several knives visible on his person, the large mabari hound and her own reputation, they made quite the intimidating group. Even Wynne posed an obvious threat with her mage staff, despite her old age and gentle demeanour.
Saskia had intended to head straight to the house but stopped short when she saw Leske leaning up against the door as if he’d never left and was swinging by for a drink. She couldn’t bite back her smile as she hurried over and pulled her friend into a hug.
“Heard a rumour you were kicking about in Orzammar,” he said with an affectionate thump to her back. “You get sick of that Warden shit already? It’s only been, what, a year?”
“What can I say, it just doesn’t compare to the glitz and glamour of this place.”
“If you want glitz and glamour, you should see your sister’s new digs. She’s living it pretty, up in the Diamond Quarter. It’s a shame, makes it much harder to sneak into her bedroom.” He laughed as she smacked him playfully against the chest.
“A friend of yours, I assume?” Alistair asked.
“Oh, uh, right,” Saskia couldn’t help but grin sheepishly as she stepped back to allow the others into the conversation. “This is my bud, Leske. We used to run in the carta together before all this.”
“Ouch, that’s all I am to you? What happened to best buds? That hurts, salroka.”
“Sorry, did I say bud? I meant thorn in my side.”
Leske rolled his eyes before carrying on. “Seriously duster, why are you here?”
“Technically I’m here on Grey Warden business,” Saskia explained. “But I figured that could wait until I caught up with you and Rica. After that, I figured I’d pay Jarvia a visit.” Noticing how Leske had gone still, she leaned in close. “Hey, is she giving you trouble because of what happened?”
“Look, she’d kill me if she knew I know this, but after Rica moved up to the city, the carta took over your house. She didn’t waste a day, apparently killing all her competitors before taking over the lyrium trade. She made some kind of deal with Beraht’s family topside, claiming to be his wife or something. But Endrin’s death really opened new ground. All of a sudden, guardsmen were all busy in the Diamond Quarter and Jarvia moved right in.”
“…Shit. You doing okay?”
“I’m getting by. Look, they put a back entrance in your old place. It just goes to some storage tunnels but there’s probably a way into Beraht’s estate from there.”
“I’ll swing by and sort her out when I’ve checked on Rica. Want to come with?”
“Nah, I’ll lie low for a bit. Don’t want her thinking we’re up to something.”
“So, that’s the Leske you’ve told me so much about,” said Wynne as they made their way back to the city. “You weren’t joking when you said he was a rather shifty-looking fellow.”
“It’s a duster thing,” Saskia replied. “Should have seen me when I first came above ground. When I wasn’t staring up at the sky, I was having to promise guards I wasn’t there to steal everything.”
“Can confirm,” Alistair added. “One even thought she was holding me ransom.”
“Who’s to say I’m not? I bet you could fetch a nice price once all this is said and done.”
Saskia couldn’t help but tear up when she finally spotted her older sister. The two of them ran into each other’s arms, the hug being far more tender and longer than that with Leske. Rica leaned back, cupping Saskia’s face in her hands as she looked over every new scrape and scar that she’d earned through the last year. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks as she traced a long pale line that curved along the side of her face and cut through her brow, having narrowly avoided her eyes.
“Welcome home,” she whispered, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched.
Saskia closed her eyes, happy to exist only as a younger sibling for a few moments. “Yeah. I’m home.” Her companions allowed their reunion to go on undisturbed, the two sisters speaking in hushed voices to one another. When they finally parted, none of them saw fit to mention the redness in Saskia’s eyes. “Okay! Whew, okay. Everyone, this is my sister, Rica.”
Each of her friends introduced themselves in turn, receiving appraising looks from Rica. Whatever assessment she came to in the end seemed to satisfy her, though she did cast a suspicious look towards Zevran and Marble.
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite,” Saskia said, ruffling the mabari’s ears who barked in response.
“I might though,” Zevran smirked, earning a snort and eye roll from Rica.
Saskia let her sister lead them further into the Diamond Quarter and listened as she gushed about life in the palace and how she’d given birth to Bhelen’s son. “Oh, you’ll just love little Endrin. Forget everything else, I’m taking you to the royal nursery immediately.”
Nothing could have prepared Saskia for being handed the small, warm bundle. She could only stare down at the young dwarf that watched her with large, brown eyes. After a few minutes, she begged somebody to take him off her and Wynne was happy to oblige. “He’s just so… tiny. And soft. I felt like if I held too tight, I’d break him but not tight enough and I’d drop him.”
“That’s how all babies tend to be,” Wynne said, fighting back a laugh. Zevran and Alistair had no such qualms, much to Saskia’s chagrin. “They start off small but in no time, they’ll be running around the nursery and bouncing off all sorts of things.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. Vartag’s son still finds himself in House Aeducan from time to time and he’s always full of energy. I’m not sure whether to be excited or terrified.”
“You’ll be a great mother,” Saskia said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“That she will,” said a deep voice from behind. Turning, Saskia watched as dwarf with twin braids in his beard walked into the room with the confident swagger that immediately marked him as from the noble caste. “Rica, you didn’t say we had guests.”
“I’m sorry, my lord. I was just so excited for Saskia to meet little Endrin.”
“Ah, I see. Allow me to welcome you to your new home, little sister. You were the one who won the Grey Warden’s attention at last year’s Proving, no?”
Saskia couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably. She’d never given much attention to the noble caste unless they were a mark, nor had she ever cared to show them respect, but she couldn’t help but feel perhaps some was warranted due to her sister’s status as his concubine. She settled for a neutral, “That was me, yeah.”
“You really ruffled a few feathers with that. I’ve got a proposition for you, if you’d listen.” He gestured for her to follow him, leading her into a sitting room across the hall. A quick word to a passing servant and he had some bottles of mead brought out. Nice mead too, much nicer than the swill she’d been served at the Tapster’s Tavern. She gladly accepted a tankard and fought to not down it immediately. Once everyone had taken a seat and gotten something to drink, he started to talk.
“Your sister has told me much about you. Especially your… run-ins with Jarvia and the carta. Now, you more than showed your skill in that Proving and I imagine that Jarvia’s not too pleased to hear you’re back in Orzammar.”
“She won’t be a problem much longer,” Saskia cut in, her free hand moving to the haft of one of axes as she took another swig. “She’s next on my list to pay a visit too.”
“Now that is something that I’m excited to hear. She’s causing a fair bit of trouble for people and they’d be grateful to have them eliminated. And if they were to hear that I was the one who’d called for her removal, it would boost my popularity quite a bit.” He leaned back in his chair and levelled a steady gaze at her. “I’m not sure how up-to-date you are with Orzammar’s politics, but I’m currently in a battle for the crown. Were you to help me, I’d be able to ensure your sister has a long and comfortable life.”
“Consider it done,” she said. “I already wanted Jarvia’s head on a spike. This is just an added bonus.”
“Where’s Jarvia?” Saskia growled, pinning the carta thug to the wall.
“I don’t know!” he stammered, his voice raising in pitch as she pressed a knife to his throat. “I don’t! I was just following Leske’s orders!”
“Bullshit,” she spat, pushing the blade just enough to break skin.
“It’s not, I swear! He said Jarvia gave the word to make sure you never left. He told us he’d get you here, we just needed to wait and take you out. Y-you don’t disobey Leske, you know? He’s her right-hand man!”
“Assuming you’re not lying through your bloody teeth, where would I find him?”
“A-At the base, I guess. It’s below the city, there’s a tunnel across the way but you need the key. You can have it, just please don’t… don’t kill me.” She watched as he reached with trembling hands into one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a rusted key. Jerking her head, she had Zevran take it from him before taking three steps back and firmly keeping her eyes on the wall behind him.
“Get out,” she said, voice flat. “Before I change my fucking mind.” The thug scrambled out the door, eager to leave while he still could. The room was heavy and quiet for a moment, the loudest sound being Saskia’s fevered breaths. Alistair was the first to try and break the tension.
“Saskia-”
Before he could get another word out, she spun and slammed a fist into the wall. She’d taken to leaving her gauntlets off when they weren’t planning to face anything especially threatening, exposing her raw knuckles to scrape against the stone. When Wynne stepped forwards to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, she shrugged it off.
“Don’t,” she hissed, open and raw. When Wynne persisted, she slapped her hand away again. “Leave it.”
“I want to make sure you haven’t injured yourself.”
“I haven’t. Come on, we have a job to do.” She seemed to consider that end of the discussion, as she set forwards towards the door. Alistair stepped out of the way, letting her kick the door open and lead the way out. She immediately beelined for the gate, swearing under her breath as she had to wiggle the key in the lock a few times before it clicked open. She went as if to take a step inside but paused. When she spoke, her voice was flat again. “We hit them hard and we hit them fast. If someone fights back, we kill them. And then, I will take Jarvia to pieces.”
The next hour was spent slowly dismantling the carta. They’d bolstered their numbers with mercenaries and even a few apostates, but one by one they fell to the Warden and her companions. They made no effort to conceal their process; Saskia wanted Jarvia to know they were coming.
When they finally reached the room deep within the base where Jarvia was waiting, Leske was stood by her side.
“You better have a damn good reason for being here, Leske,” Saskia said, hands tightening around her axes.
“Sure, I do. You ever stop to wonder what would happen to me when you left? When Beraht died, Jarvia came out on top. She’s got the swords, the coin and the bed where I sleep.”
“Didn’t realise you could be bought so easily.”
“You got too much sun on the brain. If you hadn’t fucked off to the surface, you’d have done the same. Instead, you forgot what it’s like down here, living in filth with no clue when your next meal is due. You got soft and spoiled.”
“You know, it’s funny,” Jarvia chimed in, mouth split into a cruel approximation of a smile. “Leske’s been licking my feet to get back in favour ever since you crawled out from under Beraht’s corpse. When he heard you were in town, he jumped at the chance to prove his loyalty.”
“LIAR!” With a sharp flick of the wrist, she threw a knife at Jarvia. She simply stood and let it fly past her face, Saskia’s aim ruined by the rage running through her veins.
“When you taste my steel, think of Beraht. Even in death, he has his vengeance!” The two dwarves through themselves at each other, spurring the rest of her lackeys into action. Saskia went to get a clear swing of her axe at Jarvia, only for Leske to knock it aside with his own. When Zevran moved forwards to help in taking them down, he found himself pushed back.
“They’re mine,” Saskia barked, eyes darkening as the berserker’s rage took hold. The two carta members pressed her on both sides, taking advantage of how she had to split her attention between the two. For every hit of her own that she got in, they got in another two. Her usual calm and systematic way of fighting was lost, as she frenzied against them. When she overextended, she took a knife to the ribs.
A moment later, she took Leske’s head off.
Carrying the momentum, she pushed against Jarvia. Whatever expression she had on her face caused the carta leader to freeze for a split second. It was the only opening she needed, slamming her axe into her chest. Saskia continued to hack away at her body, stopping only when her knees gave out.
This time, she did not push Wynne away when her hand came upon her shoulder, waves of healing magic washing through her veins. Realising the others had already cleaned up and were watching her with concern, she let her axes fall out of her hands and closed her eyes as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. When at last her lungs had had their fill, she stood and looked down at the bodies of her opponents. After a minute, she spat on both of their corpses.
“We’re done,” she said raggedly. “Let’s get out of here.”
When they returned to House Aeducan, Bhelen was waiting. “I assume the amount of blood and gore you’re tracking over my carpets means that the job is done, yes?”
“Every carta member we came across, we killed. Jarvia is currently lying in pieces down in her rat tunnels.”
“My dear sister, thank you for doing this unsavoury task for me.” Saskia bit back the urge to say she hadn’t done it for him but chose to keep her mouth shut for once. “I’ll be sure to notify you when my inauguration is set to take place. For now, we’ve prepared some guest rooms for yourself and your companions as well as… bathing facilities. I’ll have you escorted there now.”
With a snap of his fingers, two servants came running and ready to lead them back into the palace, though they conspicuously didn’t look too long at them. They were each shown to their own rooms, though Saskia was given one two halls down. Apparently, it would become her own sleeping chamber, should she ever decide to return to Orzammar.
She’d only just toed off her boots when she heard the door open and close behind her. Sparing a glance over her shoulder, she saw Zevran was leaning against it with a soft expression. Somehow, he’d already taken off his armour and was stood in his casual clothes.
“Wrong room, Zev,” she said, too tired to tease. Rather than leave, he drew closer and took her hand. Turning it over, he saw that the scrapes from earlier had healed over and were now the pale scars that were often a result of healing magic. Wordlessly, he brushed his thumb over them before pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles.
“I figured you may appreciate some help getting cleaned off, yes? And for once, I don’t have an ulterior motive.” He looked pleased when that managed to get a small smile off of her. “I also don’t want you to be all alone… after what happened with your friend. And so, tonight I shall lavish you with affection in the least sexual way possible!”
Saskia snorted. “Yeah, and nugs can fly. I don’t think you can do anything in a non-sexual way.”
“Not true! I am perfectly capable of undressing and touching a woman with the clinical detachment of a physician. I shall prove it to you, turn around so I can get to your straps.” With a sigh, she turned and left him to his ministrations. While he did linger on her neck for a moment, he kept his hands to himself as he slowly took off each piece of armour until she was left with just her tunic and leggings. When she leant in for a kiss, he gently warded her off and guided her towards the bathroom.
Somehow, somebody had already thought to draw a bath and he gestured for her to undress fully and get in. She continued to watch from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to make a move but it never came. Instead, he stood at the head of the bath and gently washed her hair. She had half a mind to close her eyes and go to sleep while he worked it into a lather. Instead, she took one of the sponges – so soft, who knew they made them like this? – and began to wash her body.
Zevran stepped out briefly, only to return with a set of clothes and a large, fluffy towel that he wrapped around her when she got out. Once she was dry, he handed the knee-length nightgown to her to wear.
“You get comfortable in the bed,” he said, unlacing his trousers with quick efficiency. “I’ll join you when I’m done.”
“You know, the bath would have been big enough for the both of us.”
“Your temptations will not work on me tonight, mi amor. I’ll join you shortly.” He pressed a kiss against her head before shedding his clothes and stepping into the bath. With one last look at him, she went into the bedroom and flopped backwards onto the bed. It was soft, just like everything else in this place. She rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her face against one of the pillows, taking a moment to appreciate the gentle floral scent.
After some time, she heard the bath begin to drain and Zevran stepped out, wearing a loose pair of leggings. He smiled when he saw her watching him and joined her in lying on top of the bed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, breaking the companionable silence.
“No, not really.”
“Tell me if you change your mind.”
“I will.” A pause. “Thank you.”
“It is quite alright, my love. Let me know if you want anything.”
“Hey, Zev?”
“Yes?”
“Did you really mean it when you said you’d be non-sexual all of tonight?” He couldn’t help but laugh at that and get up to leverage himself over her.
“Perhaps I was a little hasty in that, no?”