Work Text:
Ser Marian is not having a good day. First the Qunari attacked, and that is a bother because of course Kirkwall is Kirkwall - one gigantic boil of blood and corruption - meaning that the Templar Order, of which she is a part, is also the standing army and only real defence for the city. One day, when she's Knight Commander, things will change. But that day is not today, today she's sent out to deal with the heathen horn heads. Technically she should be out in the wilds or deep in the bowels of the city somewhere, sniffing out and hunting down maleficarum like a good hound, but Meredith has a crush on her, so instead she's been assigned to assist with retaking the Viscount’s Keep.
And possibly rescue the Viscount. Who knows, we'll see how it goes.
Second problem - the rich bitch from Ferelden. Rich bastard, actually. Soon to be Champion of Kirkwall. Another haughty person with a name beginning with M. Marian and Meredith and co encounter him and his group of freaks chatting with the First Enchanter in the square outside his mansion. ‘Chatting’ - more like demanding information. If there's one thing you can say about Mettin Amell, it's that he doesn't like mages. Doesn't like mages so much that he doesn't have any strange mages in his gang, which is remarkable, because mages are extremely useful. Too bad he himself is a mage, and a blood mage at that. Official orders are to ignore it, because he's extremely wealthy, well connected, and noble, and (somehow) also extremely beloved. He also kills everything that gets in his way, including entire criminal syndicates, flocks of dragons, and various eldritch horrors. Marian doesn't much care that he's an apostate, because she is not exactly law abiding either. Also, she suspects that Meredith has a crush on the dog lord.
The Knight Commander clears her throat and begins to address the man carrying a black steel staff topped with a skull sporting blazing red eyes. “So fortunate for us to meet you here, Amell-”
“Hah! fancy meeting you here, brother. At the centre of trouble, of course. Mother would be so proud." Meredith is interrupted by Ser Carver, who became a templar solely to spite his big brother. He continuously exclaims to his brother and sister templars that his sibling is an apostate and maleficar, but everyone ignores him, no matter how many undead things Mettin raises in the Gallows Courtyard.
“Have you stopped wetting the bed yet, Carver? I would like to tell Mother you have the next time I visit her grave.” responds Mettin, with extreme evilness. For some reason there's a decade between the brothers. Ser Marian chooses to believe that one of them is illegitimate. And that someone is most certainly Ser Carver.
With Knight Commander and little brother crushed, the upcoming Champion declares that the plucky band of rescuers will be following Meredith's plan, because he's yet to hear a word from a mage that made any sense at all.
Of course it takes longer to break into the Keep when charging at it full tilt, but that's the exchange you make in order not to have anything to do with magic. Mettin summons demons to assist, and also to make his little bro wet his pants. Nothing like having a roaring rage demon rush at one from the left while a seven foot dragon man is attempting to take one's head off on the right. Ser Marian would give anything to understand how either man survived to make it to the City of Chains in the first place.
Inside the Keep, everyone is dead, everyone except qunari. For some reason Meredith chooses to wait outside and prepare a dramatic entrance secure the doors, meaning Marian had to glean most of what happened next from Ser Carver, who is the most unreliable narrator of all time, but who nonetheless accompanied his brother to face the Arishok.
A pirate woman of extreme buxomness sashayed through the doors with the Qunari's most holy relic in hand. “Hey, here's your stupid book. Take it.” An extremely poor judge of character, Isabela seemed to think her rich bastard friend wouldn't turn her in for the several thousand betrayals she'd perpetrated on him till now…and she was correct, if only because the Champion is extremely lustful as well as bloodthirsty. Since he failed, naturally, to gain the qunari leader's respect, what followed was a bloodbath followed by an immense runaround, Mettin answering Ser Marian's unspoken question as to whether or not he knows he's a mage, answering with a resounding ‘YES’ as he took off running in a figure of eight formation around the bottom of the Viscount's throne room, chased by the Arishok, who kept trying to gore him in the back with his horns. It doesn't matter how physically gifted a mage may be, they don't wear armour.
“Help, Cailan!” The nascent Champion called to his mabari hound to distract the giant while he ripped blood out of the monster man's pores. It was a good tactic, the dog nipping at the tendons in the back of the leg while his master summoned desire demons in the hopes that what worked on him would work on others. Soon the place was absolutely chock full of naked women, greatly inhibiting their summoner's ability to flee. At this point Ser Carver fell into a laughing fit. Anyway, summoning succubi - good technique, although it took three hours for the Ferelden to defeat his enemy without dying in the process.
As the Arishok’s head rolled across the red carpet, right at that moment, Meredith and retinue arrived, and Marian at least got to witness the birth of a legend.
