Chapter Text
“Hey, boring britches! We goin’ out tonight, or wot?”
“It’s Monday.”
“So?”
I sighed and turned to face my roommate, Sera, momentarily abandoning my textbook. “You know that I need to study for this test.”
She was leaning heavily on my doorframe, arms crossed in front of her petite form. A smattering of freckles graced her pale cheeks. Day old eyeliner rimmed pale grey-blue eyes. Her pale blonde hair was kept chronically short by her incessant inability to leave things alone. It looked like she had cut it again. Her bangs were choppy and uneven, and much shorter than when I had seen her at breakfast.
She snorted, pushing off from her perch against my bedroom door. “Pfft. Yer the last person in the world that needs to study more.”
“Did you cut your hair again?” The question was rhetorical of course, and meant to distract her.
She sank down on my bed, grabbing a handful of chips out of the bowl on my desk. “’Course I did. My bangs were gettin’ in my eyes again.”
“And did you use one of the kitchen knives again?”
“Yup!” She smiled brightly.
“Sera, we own scissors.”
“Pfft.”
“And am I going to find piles of hair all over the bathroom again?”
She shrugged. “Pro’ly.”
“Ugh.” It was like having a damned cat.
“Stop try’na change the subject.” She pointed one of my chips at me accusingly.
“I need to study.”
“Ya need to relax.”
“And you sincerely believe that going out will help me relax?”
She shrugged. “Ya need to let loose every once in awhile. Get drunk. Find a cute boy. Make some mistakes.”
“Haven’t I made enough mistakes regarding ‘cute boys’?” I didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to men.
“Geez, I didn’t say get into a relationship!” She grumbled. “Ya need to get laid.”
“Making mistakes with a ‘cute boy’ is how my mother ended up with me at age fifteen, you know,” I continued, ignoring her interjection.
“And I didn’t say be stupid! No babies til yer thirty.”
“That’s a lot closer than it used to be you know.”
“Fine, fifty. And stop doin’ that!”
“Doing what?”
“Distracting me!”
“Is that what I’m doing?” I asked innocently. Of course, it was exactly what I was doing.
She tossed my pillow at me. “Yeah. Now, stop. I know the bouncer at the Divine Conclave.”
I sighed. She was being particularly tenacious. “Already? They’ve only been open for two weeks.”
“Friend of a friend.” She said indicating how she knew the bouncer while waving her hand dismissively.
I really shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. Sera made a living out of doing odd jobs for even odder people. She had amassed quite the network of misfits, and a contact list at least three miles long.
She had been on me to go out with her for literal years at this point. My resolve had slowly been weakening, but she didn’t need to know that.
“If I agree to go out with you tomorrow night, will you leave me in peace to study for this test? It’s first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Fine, fine. Tomorrow night. I’ll drag you by your pointed ears if I hafta.” She pointed at me sternly. Stern was a funny look on her.
...
The next morning I left my Police Psychology class feeling confident that I had aced my test and headed to my second class of the morning.
Ancient Elvhen Science, Technology and Medicine, affectionately shortened to AESTM. It was my favorite class. It was the only elective that my full course load had allowed. The course itself was utterly fascinating to me, but the professor really was the icing on the cake.
Professor Solas knew the most obscure things about almost any topic you could name. He had a story for everything. He was the smartest man I knew. He was funny. He was charming.
Also, he was devastatingly handsome.
He paced back and forth across the front of the room as he lectured, hands clasped loosely behind his back.
His voice was captivating. He could read the phone book and I would be utterly entranced.
He always dressed in neutral tones. That day his sweater was a creamy beige color, and looked especially soft.
I wondered if it would feel as soft as it looked.
My eyes drifted up to his face.
His full lips looked like they would be particularly nice to kiss.
Those lips quirked in a little half smile as he said something particularly clever.
I would have bet money that his tongue was clever in other ways too.
His eyes were sharp, intelligent and blue-grey in color. I had once had the immense fortune of standing close enough to him to make out the little flecks of lilac surrounding his pupils.
Years of unfortunate ingrained conditioning had most elves I knew keeping their hair a little on the longer side in an attempt to mask their ears behind it.
His head was shaved bald, brazenly displaying his pointed ears in a challenge, defying anyone to tell him he wasn’t good enough simply because of the shape of his ears.
He was the whole package, smart, dry sense of humor, and drop dead gorgeous.
I had spent a great deal of class time memorizing his features. And more than a little time alone in my bed moaning his name into my pillow.
To say I had a little crush on him would have been an enormous understatement. It was silly, but it was safe, because never in a million years could he ever possibly return those feelings. He barely noticed me. At least I could take comfort in the fact that he more or less ignored all of his students equally.
...
After sitting through an afternoon of entirely boring—but entirely necessary to my degree—classes, I made my way home.
The University was within walking distance of our apartment.
The only down side was that winter was fast approaching and the sky was starting to darken around 4:00 pm each day.
Class was over at 5:00 pm, so I made the somewhat chilly half-hour long walk home in near darkness.
“You ready?” Sera asked in lieu of greeting as I opened the front door.
I sighed, kicking off my shoes. “I’ve barely gotten in the door, Sera.”
“Ya promised!” She whined.
“I know I'm a little out of touch with this sort of thing, but isn’t it a tad early to go out to a club? It’s only 5:30.”
“If I let ya go study now, I’ll pro’ly never get ya out of the room of yers!”
“Fine, fine. You want to put on a movie while I make dinner?”
...
We ate dinner and watched a movie, and I managed to stave off her impatient anticipation until 8:00pm.
I don’t know why she insisted on going out on a weeknight, but I was young. I could bounce back. Between working weekends and studying weeknights, I barely slept anyway.
I hadn’t been out to a club since before I had actually turned eighteen, sneaking in with a rather questionable fake ID. It had been seven years since I had last relented to Sera’s insistence that I have a social life outside of school.
I owned exactly two outfits that I considered to be even remotely appropriate to wear out clubbing, though neither one had ever seen the light of day. One was a slutty dress, all strappy and open, leaving very little to the imagination. The other was a shirt that I would pair with jeans. I wasn’t sure which would actually be considered suitable attire since I hadn’t heard much about the club itself.
We would be walking to the Divine Conclave and it was freezing outside. Which really made my decision for me. Definitely jeans.
I settled on a pair of dark skinny jeans with rips that might have been considered fashionable as long as no one was alerted to the fact that I had worn the rips into them myself.
I studied myself in the mirror.
I had no curves to speak of. I was just a waif of a girl—woman technically—at twenty-four.
My fiery red hair hung in loose curls around my face and shoulders, the tips of my pointed ears poking through.
I had always envied Sera’s freckles. Where her pale skin had a dusting of freckles, mine was entirely free of any markings. Though I was technically raised Dalish, I had never seen any real reason to get my vallaslin, my fear of needles far outweighing any worship I felt for the Creators.
My clover colored eyes were bordering on too large for my dainty elven face.
My lips were small, but at least they had a full pouty shape.
I was neither short nor tall, falling somewhere in the range of perfectly average for an elven woman.
I was pretty I supposed. But also in an average sort of way.
After rummaging though the depths of my closet, I emerged victorious clutching my clubbing appropriate shirt. It was a long sleeved, black, mesh top that I paired with a lacy, black, bralette underneath.
I threw my ‘University of Haven’ sweater on top.
Sera was hovering by the front door wearing a pair of plaidweave leggings and red tunic that looked like it had seen better days. But, she was cute so she could pull off the ‘homeless chic’ look.
“Wot the hell are ya wearin’?” She asked, indicating my outfit in a slightly offended manner.
“I could ask you the same thing. Is that what the kids wear out to the club nowadays? Guess I really am out of touch.”
“Fuck off.” She snorted. “Least I look like I’m going out to have fun, not study at the library. Why ya wearin’ that awful sweater?”
I crossed my arms. “It’s winter, and we live in the mountains, Sera. You’re going to freeze your ass off.”
“Ugh. Could you be any more lame?”
“Yes. Yes I can. Challenge accepted.”
Just to spite her, I went to the bathroom and threw my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head. Then I went to my bedroom and grabbed my glasses, which I normally only wore when I was reading, but I was willing to make an exception just to make a point.
I exited my bedroom, doing a little model twirl.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Why are ya like this?”
“Oh, you know you love me.”
“Ugh. Bitch.” She said slinging an affectionate arm around my shoulder as we exited the apartment.
“Jerk.” I replied, arm moving around her waist. “What would I do without you?”
“Be stuck at home like a loser.”
“Yeah. But think how much studying I could get done.”
“Pfft. Ya study way too much. Ya only get to be young and stupid once.”
“Correction. Youth may be temporary, stupid is forever.”
“Only if ya make a habit outta it.”
...
There was a line clear around the block.
Sera ignored it and walked straight up to the large intimidating man half hidden in the shadow of the doorway.
“Back of the line, pipsqueak.” The voice was deep and authoritative.
“Oi, stop messin’ around.” Sera huffed up at him.
“You’re no fun, kid.” He ruffled Sera’s hair affectionately, stepping into the streetlight.
She patted down her hair with a glare. “Renna, Bull. Bull, Renna.”
It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sheer size of him.
And then there were the horns.
Sweet merciful Creators, Bull was a Qunari.
Again, I don’t know why I was surprised. Sera knew a lot of people.
Bull was built remarkably like a bull. Horns included. He was easily 6’8” and pure muscle. Despite the winter-esque weather, he wore no shirt. A sleeve of tribal tattoos worked its way over his chest, starkly contrasting his exposed grey skin.
I had to look way up to see his face, my own face being barely level with the bottom of his ribcage.
His right eye was concealed beneath an eye patch, scars snaking out from behind the cloth. He smiled down at me broadly and extended a hand that could have easily crushed my head if he so pleased. “It’s the Iron Bull, actually.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” I shook his hand; trying not to laugh at how comically small mine looked against it.
He looked me over appraisingly. “Sera didn’t say you were a redhead.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “Bull has a thing for redheads.”
“Is your husband a redhead?” I was trying to subtly let him know that I knew that he was married.
“Nope. But he’s an understanding man.” He winked at me. At least I think it was supposed to be a wink.
I must have looked slightly terrified because Sera came to my rescue.
“Oi, shove off, Bull.” Sera swatted his arm. “She doesn’t know yer jokin’.”
Bull let out a low chuckle and turned back to me. “So how do you know Sera?”
“She’s been my best friend since we were like four.”
He nodded knowingly. “Lifelong partners in crime then.”
“Nah. She’s on the straight and narrow, this one.” Sera jutted her thumb at me. “I practically had to drag her out tonight. Proper boring.”
I crossed my arms. “I am not boring.”
“Then let’s see who can do more shots.”
“Sera, I have a test in the morning.”
“Ya had one o’ those today.”
“I have more than one class.”
“Boring.”
“Ugh. Fine. You’re buying.”
Bull let out a laugh. “Put them on Dorian’s tab. I’ll let Krem know I’m sending you. Have fun, kids.”
“Thanks, Bull.” Sera gave him an enthusiastic wave as he let us into the packed club.
The place was insane. Dim lighting, loud music, a writhing mass of scantily clad bodies on the dance floor. I took a moment to let my eyes adjust to the low light.
“Who’s Dorian?” I asked over the music as she led me straight up the bar.
“Bull’s husband.”
“Oh, okay. And Krem?”
She nodded toward the bartender. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to get his attention, or if she was telling me that he was ‘Krem’. ‘Potentially Krem’ had dark hair that was cropped short on the sides. He had dark brown eyes and an easy smile.
The bartender grinned up at her, motioning that he would be a moment.
She turned to me. “So, tequila?”
“I haven’t been able to drink that shit since my sixteenth birthday. You know that.” When I turned sixteen, Sera had liberated a bottle of tequila from her foster mom’s liquor cabinet in celebration. Most of that night was a blur, except the part where I puked into my grandfather’s shoes. And he yelled at me for an hour straight.
“Oh yeah! That was hilarious.”
I sent her a withering glare.
“Fine, fine. What ya want then?”
“Let’s do vodka.”
The bartender made his way over. “Hey, Sera! Who’s your friend?”
“Renna.”
“The famous Renna?” He looked me over before turning to Sera with what I’m sure he thought was a hushed tone. “She’s cute.”
“And she has pretty decent hearing too.” I replied dryly, indicating my pointed ears.
It was hard to tell under the dim lighting of the club, but I swear I saw his face go red. “Oh, sorry I—“
I cracked a smile. “It’s okay. You’re pretty cute yourself.”
Sera rolled her eyes. “I didn’t bring ya here to flirt with Krem.”
“Are you sure? Cause we’ve already established that each of us thinks the other is cute.”
Sera turned to Krem, ignoring me entirely. “Bull let ya know we were comin’, yeah?”
Krem nodded.
“Brilliant! Vodka shots, and keep ‘em coming.”
...
We were about four shots in apiece when I finally started feeling the buzz of the alcohol. To be fair, those first four shots had gone by relatively fast. These days I mostly drank wine, hard liquor being something I had gotten far too much of in my youth.
“I want to climb Bull.” I announced, taking a sip of the beer I didn’t remember ordering but was pretty sure Sera had ordered for me. I didn’t even like beer. We were seated at the bar and Krem was keeping a pretty close eye on us, so I wasn’t too worried about drink tampering.
“Like sexy climb? Perv.”
“No! Course not! Course not! He’s married. I want to grab onto his horns and like climb him. Like a tree. No sexy, just tree.” I nodded matter-of-factly.
Sera giggled into her beer. “You’d pro’ly hafta to get him drunk first.”
“Nah. I can be pretty convincing when I bat my baby blues.”
“Yer eyes are green, ya dummy.”
“I know that. But he doesn’t know that.” I tapped a finger to my forehead.
She gave me a confused look. “Wot're ya on about?”
I regarded her seriously for a moment before I burst out laughing. “I have no fucking clue. I gotta piss.”
She clapped me on the back excitedly. “See, yer much funner once ya’ve had a few. Need me to come with?”
“Nah.” I waved her off. “I got this. I’m good.”
My foot caught got caught in the bar stool and I stumbled off it, barely catching myself on the bar. I righted myself quickly, making my head spin. “I’m good!”
“Ya sure ‘bout that?” She was giving me an intensely amused look.
I dusted myself off. “Yup! Now, which ways the bathroom?”
Sera pointed over her shoulder to a darkened corner of the club.
“Oh, that’s not ominous at all. I’ll see you in a few if I don’t get murdered first.” I saluted her and toddled off in the direction she had indicated.
Everything was wobbly.
Especially the bits that shouldn’t have been.
Like the fucking floor.
Why were none of the rooms labeled?
Ugh.
It was so dark.
At least the music wasn’t as deafeningly loud in this particular corner of the bar.
I went out for the first time in seven years and ended up alone, stumbling down a fucking murder hallway.
This was why I didn’t like the idea of going out and getting shitfaced.
Granted, Sera had offered to come with me.
But I didn’t need a babysitter.
I was a twenty-four year old woman.
I opened one of the doors at random. It was a janitor’s closet. I made a mental note of the sink just in case I couldn’t find an actual toilet.
Apparently I was a twenty-four year old woman who was willing to entertain the idea of pissing in a janitor’s sink.
I needed to get out less.
Or more, depending on who you asked.
I closed the door and moved on to door number two.
It was some sort of storeroom.
I was about to close the door when I heard hushed voices.
My need to pee was momentarily forgotten as my curiosity got the better of me.
I left the door open a crack, just in case I needed to make a hasty get away.
There were some shelves directly in front of the door.
I did my best super spy impression and tiptoed to the edge of the shelving, sticking to the shadows.
I poked my head around the corner cautiously.
About fifteen feet away in a dimly lit corner of the storeroom, two men stood before an old woman, who was seated in a chair.
One of the men had greasy, black shoulder length hair and a receding hairline. His skin was sallow, and his eyes were red-rimmed. He looked like the poster child for drug addiction.
The other man was freakishly tall—7’ tall at the very least—and had some sort of weird snarling mask covering the left half of his face. Glimpses of scarred skin snaked out from the edges of his mask.
Both were dressed in well-tailored, completely black, expensive looking suits. The masked man had some sort of hood obscuring part of his face.
The old woman was wearing an all white pantsuit. Her hair was short, also pure white, and meticulously styled. Even her eyebrows were a shocking white. She was the very image of innocence and virtue, especially next to the two men who looked particularly unsavory.
“What did you hope to accomplish in coming here tonight?” The man in the mask asked. His voice was a low growl with an accent that my drunken brain couldn’t quite place.
“If you’re going to kill me, then just do it. Spare me the scare tactics.” The old lady spat. Her accent was Orlesian. The tone didn’t at all match the vision she projected of someone frail and helpless.
What the fuck had I walked into?
“We are merely having a discussion.” The masked man said calmly.
“Is that what you call this? Holding an old woman in the storeroom of a disgusting night club?”
“Tsk. Tsk. You were the one slinking around here. You wanted us to catch you.”
“Were you hoping for a taste, most holy?” The greasy looking man asked with a sneer.
Most holy?
What?
She huffed. “I am already familiar with your product.”
“This is the new stuff. Fresh off the production line.” He held up a vial and shook it in front of her face. “This will make the red stuff look like fucking candy. Take too much and it will melt your fucking brain.”
Red stuff?
I didn't have long to ponder that thought.
She knocked the vial out of his hand, demonstrating a strength that was surprising for such a frail looking old woman.
Whatever it was rolled towards me, and I held my breath, waiting for someone to come retrieve it. When they didn’t do so immediately, my drunk brain told me to pick it up and stick it in my pocket.
I should have left right then. No one had seen me. I was in the clear. Instead, my stupid drunk brain told me to take out my cell phone and start recording what I was witnessing.
My drunk brain hadn’t steered me wrong yet, so I did exactly that, making sure my phone was on silent and the flash was turned off.
“As I’m sure you are painfully aware, distribution has already begun.” The masked man informed her. “You’re powerless to stop us. Just like you were powerless against lyrium, and powerless once again with the red.”
Lyrium? This was about drugs?
“You won’t get away with this. The Police will see you pay.”
“Fuck the Police.” The greasy man spat.
“I grow bored of this.” The masked man said, making a vague gesture towards the old woman.
The greasy man moved to stand behind her, grabbing her arms and holding her in place despite her distinct lack of resistance.
The masked man produced a knife from the inner pocket of his suit.
He dragged the blade slowly—deliberately—down the side of her face, drawing a line of blood from her cheek.
She barely flinched.
Then, with a wicked smile and a quick flick of his wrist, the masked man sliced the old woman’s throat open.
For a moment, nothing happened and I started to wonder if maybe he had missed.
Then a waterfall of blood poured from her neck, soaking the front of her white shirt in column of cascading crimson.
I covered my mouth to keep from screaming, or vomiting, or both. I began backing slowly towards the door, hastily shoving my phone into the pocket of my jeans.
Backing blindly—and drunkenly—in a dark storeroom occupied to two murderous murders and their most recent murder victim really wasn’t one of my better ideas.
I knocked something over with a clattering crash.
Something wet and thick blossomed across the floor, soaking the edges of my shoes.
The man with the knife looked up sharply, trying to see into the darkness where I was hidden.
“Someone’s here! Don’t let them get away!” He shouted, waving his knife in my general direction.
I gave up on all pretense of sneaking and booked it out the door, slamming it shut behind me, ignoring the calls of ‘stop her!’
I ran straight onto the dance floor, moving between the writhing bodies, attempting to disappear into the crowd.
Shit. They had seen me well enough to distinguish that I was in fact female. Shit, shit, shit.
How much of me had they seen?
I ducked down, shrugging off my hoodie and my glasses and letting my hair down around my shoulders. I needed to blend in fast, or I was next.
I waded through the dance floor, before circling back to the bar where I had left Sera.
“Hey, where’d ya disappear to?” Sera asked as I slid onto the stool beside her.
“I was looking for the bathroom, remember?” My voice was shaky.
If she noticed, she didn’t let on. “Been gone an awful long time for someone just gone to take a piss, yeah? Is that code for ‘found some guy to hook up with’?”
I took a deep calming breath and rolled my eyes. “You got me. I left you to go sneak off and fuck some guy in a dark hallway.”
“Sounds like somethin’ ya repressed types would do.”
I shoved at her shoulder half-heartedly. She knew that I wasn’t repressed. She knew that it was a defense mechanism born of necessity.
“Wot happened to yer sweater?”
“Someone spilled something on it when I walked through the dance floor.”
“If ya woulda told me ya were all tarted up under that stupid thing, I wouldn’ta given ya such a hard time.”
Krem went to refill my beer glass and I shook my head.
‘Water,’ I mouthed.
He gave me a knowing wink and slid a glass of ice water my way.
“I’ve gotta take a piss.” Sera announced approximately three minutes after I had reoccupied my bar stool.
“Bathroom’s that way, Sera.” Krem pointed to the corner of the club opposite the one Sera had directed me to.
For fuck’s sake.
I was never taking directions from her while she was drunk ever again.
“I’ll come with you.” I didn’t particularly want to be left alone. Plus I actually still had to pee.
The bathrooms were slightly more well lit than the rest of the club, which really wasn’t saying much.
While I was peeing I took a moment to examine my shoes. They were ruined. Covered in something black and sticky.
I would deal with them in the morning.
When I was actually sober, not just sobered by a traumatic event.
As much as I would have loved to just run screaming from the club and forget everything that I had seen and heard, leaving too early would most likely paint a target not only on my back, but on Sera’s as well.
I had to stay. I had to buy myself time to figure out what the fuck to do.