#knife-ear

I have to admit, I kind of snorted at ‘the good old knife-ear mentality’. It’s nice to see that humans are pretty much jerks no matter what world it’s in. xD Good thing we have Rienmar here to get shit taken care of! I hope you like it, sweet Anon!

And since it’s a brotherly one with Rienmar and Nuvian, let’s have the precious picture drawn by @kawereen too!

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Hateful Actions

Words: 1329

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It had been a long morning, helping Cullen and Blackwall with the recruits. Rienmar had grown rather bored of it, especially considering they did it morning after morning and he wasn’t quite sure why they bothered to call him to help anyways. It wasn’t like he was an outstanding soldier. Cullen’s reasoning was that his ‘sharp eyes could point out even the smallest of mistakes’ and that ‘the smallest of mistakes could be the difference between life and death.’ How much of that was actually true, he didn’t know.

Either way, it was nice to break away from them and go out for a nice, quiet stroll just outside of Skyhold. Aravae was busy with all the others with meetings and planning and loyal Banal’ras had stayed with her. Estelar was apparently quite interested in Dagna’s workings since the dwarf had arrived, so most days, that was where she would be found unless she was in the healing tents. Nuvian...well, there was no telling where he would be at. He flitted about Skyhold from one end to the other all day long, it seemed. He’d found him several times in the tavern with Bull and the Chargers, talking rather animatedly with them.

The Inquisition was so fast paced and flooded with things to do constantly. Why couldn’t things just slow down so that they could take a breather every now and again? He knew Aravae could use it. Much of the inner circle could, really.

Some voices rose to meet his ears as he turned and went down a side path that led to the western side of the fortress’ walls. He sighed and almost turned back, not wanting to be around others again so soon. However, a particular phrase caught his attention and demanded that he pause. Knife-ear. He’d heard the slur more than his fair share of times since Haven. He personally never put much thought into it. It didn’t bother him. He just scoffed at it, thinking what an unclever insult it was. Since the Inquisitor was an elf, the organization and its leaders were rather strict on no hate language. Naturally, not all cases were caught. He’d found some verbal abuse mainly occurring with the staff of the keep. Some had been slaves in Orlais, so they were used to such things. Others had been castouts from Dalish clans and some were eventually actually from Dalish clans. They did not take to the insults nearly as passively. Rienmar made sure to step in each time he heard it and put a stop to it.

As he continued walking on, he saw a small group of humans - some men, some women - gathered in a semi-circle, boxing in whoever was the subject of their abuse. It looked to be a lone man, his long mahogany hair looking rather disheveled-

Wait. Mahogany.

He furrowed his brows and stopped walking for a moment to try and get a better look.

Fenedhis. It was Nuvian. He was standing with his head down and his guard completely nonexistent. Why was he doing that? Why wasn’t he fighting back against them?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, knife-ear!” one of the men scoffed with laughter. “Just because your rabbit sister is some powerful chick close to the Inquisitor doesn’t mean that you’re actually anybody, are you?”

“Can’t you see that you’ve all just messed up the world?” a woman hissed, stepping forward to shove him. “Why can’t you all just go on and off yourselves?!”

“If it weren’t for all you damn knife-ears, Divine Justinia would still be here! Everyone knows that!”

“Yeah, fuck off!” a man stepped up and threw a punch, directly in Nuvian’s face. Rienmar heard the knuckles make contact with his cheek and the grunt of pain from Nuvian, but still, he didn’t move.

He inhaled sharply and removed a throwing dagger from his waist. He approached them with quick, long strides and with practiced precision, he flicked his wrist, sending the dagger flying towards the man who had struck his brother. The blade grazed along his upper arm and landed in the snow on the other side. The man cried out in surprise and raised his arm to investigate his scratch before he spun around to see where it had come from. The entire group turned with him, a few of them taking a step back.

Rienmar glared dangerously at them. He recognized their faces because he’d already dealt with them before, abusing other elves around Skyhold. Nuvian looked both surprised and a little alarmed that Rienmar was there, but he said nothing. The man’s electric blue eyes locked onto every single person’s for a few seconds until he came to stand just before the one who had thrown the punch. “And just what...do we think we’re all doing?” he snarled softly.

There was silence for a couple of moments before one of the other men spat, “All you rabbits think you can just up and roam around like you own the place! It’s disgusting!”

“Is. That. Right?” Rienmar took a step around people, emphasizing his slow and intimidating movements with each slow, clipped word. Since he stood above all of their heights, he looked down at the man who had spoken. “Don’t you know that we feel exactly the same?”

The man parted his lips to speak, but he was cut off when Rienmar grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him from the ground. The others around him shouted and stepped back some more. Rienmar tilted his head slightly, his nose scrunched with anger. “What gives you the right, a lowly grunt in an army, to challenge and abuse a man belonging to the inner circle of the Inquisitor?”

“Rienmar,” Nuvian murmured softly, “don’t hurt them. I don’t want to cause trouble for Aravae.”

He paused, taking a moment to glance at Nuvian. So that’s why he hadn’t been fighting back. Still...these people were not going to get away with this. He released his grip, dropping the man straight on his rump and jerked his head. “Go. I had better not ever see you again.”

They scrambled up and started to make their way back towards the keep when Rienmar called after them, “Start thinking of where to run when I tell the Commander of this.”

A woman whirled back around, her eyes wide. “You wouldn’t dare-!”

“Go ahead.” Rienmar drew his daggers, rage flashing in his eyes. “Fight me. Make things worse.”

He could tell that she thought about it from the way she tensed and her flexed hand went towards the hilt of her sword. However, she made the wiser choice and huffed, following after the others. Rienmar waited until they were out of earshot before sheathing his daggers again and looking to Nuvian, who was dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, where some blood had been drawn from his lip. “You idiot,” Rienmar muttered, laced with affection. “Aravae can handle herself. Don’t stand there and take that.”

He gave a guilty shrug, not meeting Rienmar’s gaze. “I just figured...if I fight back, it would only prove what they were trying to say.”

Rienmar sighed slowly. “I see where you’re coming from, but still. Is that the first time you’ve been approached like that?”

“Eh, I’d heard whisperings before, but violently, yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make it orderly again, wincing slightly as he did.

Rienmar clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get you something cold for that lip. Maybe Bull will help you out.”

“Don’t poke fun at that,” Nuvian said with a smirk, finally raising his eyes. “You can’t deny you’re a little curious about Qunari.”

He shook his head while furrowing his brows. “No, thank you, I’m quite fine. Don’t feel like you need to report things like that to me if you ever go that far.”

Nuvian tutted. “Suit yourself.”

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