Title: A Week to Remember
Part 1 of 3
Author: PhoenixDove1
Game: Post Dragonage 2
Relationship Pairing: fHawke, Cullen
Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything
*This was supposed to be a quick one shot but I think it's a bit longer. This is set after the events of DA 2 and before whatever happens in DA 3. Between Marian Hawke and (hopefully soon to be romanceable) Cullen*
Marian
It had been an unusually hot and humid day in Kirkwall. Marian was walking home from a pub called the Hanged Man where she'd made another required appearance for the ruling families at yet another celebration for freeing Kirkwall. Marian was expected to make these periodic showings. She'd gone through this before as a result of her defeat of the Arishok in their grueling one on one duel several months ago. That was also when everyone started calling her the Champion.
Today the celebrations were for defeating Knight-Commander Meredith, the woman in charge of all Templars in the city. The Templars were charged with protecting the general population from mages. The need for such protection was a misconception that Marian couldn't stand. It stemmed from mis-information and inaccurate perceptions, and was inconvenient at best, dangerous at worst.
Meredith had conspired to take over the whole of Kirkwall, circumventing the city guards who were the actual authority in the city. It'd only been a week since Marian and her team had been forced to kill Meredith. Already she'd been on a parade of parties hosted by every major family in Kirkwall, forced to sit and smile through their political dog and pony shows.
Marian was a private person and she didn't like being on display. More importantly, she hadn't accomplished anything alone. Yet she was the one being heralded as the savior, the Champion of Kirkwall. It was silly! There was still so much work to be done, especially because there was still no Viscount, no one to govern. There were still cells loyal to Meredith, cells that still considered mages second class citizens, as well as just regular old thugs that wanted to run the city. It was a recipe for disaster.
She knew the families were only trying to get her endorsement for the vote of Viscount. They all wanted the power that came with that position. That person would work directly with the Guard Captain, Knight-Commander, and First Enchanter. It was the down side to having the Amell family name back in good standing.
There was no agreement between the families as to who the next Viscount would be so they did what they always did, make false promises and pretend their friendship came without strings attached. Sometimes she wished she could go back to the time when she was a nobody living in Lowtown. She looked down at the dirt covered ground. Well, almost, she thought.
A little trickle of sweat slid down the middle of her lower back where her corset hugged her silk dress to her body. She couldn't believe she'd allowed Isabela to talk her into wearing the outfit in the first place. Off the shoulder wasn't usually her style, nor was the lavender color.
She tried to billow her dress and bunched her hair with her hand to get it off her neck, but there was no respite from the heat as there was absolutely no breeze. Even with the sun beginning to set it was stifling. It was times like these that she wished she could take up her cousin Solona's offer to visit her in Ferelden. The temperatures were supposed to be milder and they had more lakes.
Unsuccessful in escaping the heat, and not able to rip off the corset until she was alone, Marian gave up and decided to take a different way home through Darktown. It would be a cooler walk due to it being mostly under Hightown. A secret door into the Amell wine cellar was located there, and while it would take a bit longer, she'd be able to get out of the heat quicker than continuing on to her family estate through Lowtown.
Darktown was dangerous, filled with criminals, degenerates and poor people with no means to go anywhere else. But she wasn't worried about anyone trying to attack her in Darktown. She'd been there so many times people had seen her work and knew to stay clear of her.
She let her mass of hair drop to her heated skin, which clung to the strands. Navigating the familiar streets to the Darktown entrance, she reflected on how tonight could have been more enjoyable. The Hanged Man was a pub she and her friends liked to visit. Merrill had been a no show again, and Aveline was working as usual, but Sebastian, Varric, Isabela and Fenris had kept her company.
She suspected Isabela's reason for being there had more to do with Sebastian than showing support in any official capacity. Isabela hated pomp and pageantry just as much as Marian did, probably more so. But it was still an official celebration, which meant that because she was going to be there, the other noble families had to send someone to represent their families as well.
She knew the representatives were uncomfortable. Just like the families they represented, they all thought the Hanged Man was beneath them. Marian and her friends had joked most of the night about what happened to which lowly dredge so that they got stuck attending for their family. Some of the families were even so snobbish as to hire city guards and Templar's, for what Marian didn't know. If you had any issues to work out, everyone knew this particular pub was not where you took care of it.
It really should have been more fun, but one Templar had to show his big, fat… no, she could at least admit it to herself… he had to show his strong, silent, sexy self, glaring at her practically the whole night. Knight-Captain, now Knight-Commander Cullen. His eyes were a beautiful kaleidoscope of amber. Depending on the lighting they could look brown or even gold. He had the cutest short curly auburn hair, a strong jaw and a body she would give anything to see and touch. She sighed to herself as she continued to walk. She had to find a way to get him out of her mind, but so far she had not been successful.
After Varric had pointed out that Cullen had walked in, he joked that maybe the Knight-Commander was there to bring her in for being an illegal mage. Her response was to jab him in the shoulder. She didn't hit him hard, but it wasn't something she wanted to joke about. The evening took a turn for the worse after she'd downed her second shot with Varric. She decided it was time to show that glaring disapproving Templar what he was missing!
So instead of ignoring him like she should have, she envisioned him fantasizing about what she looked like under her clothes. Whenever she was facing in his direction she'd found a way to lean down a little lower than normal to show her cleavage. She'd done the same when he was behind her; bending over and ever so slightly arching her back to stick her butt out like she'd seen Isabela do.
Every time she caught his honey eyes on her though, he was frowning. It was like he was waiting for her to whip out blood magic and couldn't understand when she didn't. He seemed to do that every time she caught him looking at her, not just tonight. She'd always felt an invisible pull towards him, but he'd never had that look of longing for her that she'd been hoping to see in his eyes for a long time now.
It wasn't unusual. They'd only had a few interactions involving the city over the two years she'd known him, never anything personal. Not that it really mattered. It was unheard of for a Templar and a mage to be anything but civil to one another. Since taking over Meredith's position, he was now the man in charge of the people who hunted her kind down to imprison them for being born with magical abilities.
Sober now, she'd left as soon as she talked to the appropriate people. She just hoped that no one else had understood what she'd been doing or who she'd been directing it towards. What the hell had come over her, she lamented. She'd only had the two shots!
In Darktown now, she moved around the vagrants, stepped over debris and vehemently denied the voice inside her heart telling her she and Cullen had shared moments from the beginning and in the pub; that he'd felt a connection too. Turning the last corner and moving down the rickety ramp to her families cellar door she stopped short. At the edge of her senses she felt the tell tale tickle of magic. It was so faint she almost missed it.
She turned, scanning the area trying to figure out where it was coming from. It would have to be someone who was trained, not just an ability. But nothing seemed amiss, no one looked suspicious or unfamiliar. She reached out with her aura but the feeling was gone. Turning back, she finished walking to the door and opened it. Restless, she looked around one more time to see who was behind her but again there was nothing out of the ordinary. She slowly turned back and walked through the door, shutting it behind her.
The cool damp air of the cellar hit her as she closed the door but she couldn't enjoy the relief it provided. Her instincts were still buzzing. Even though she couldn't see anything, she was almost positive someone had followed her. She'd learned the hard way that it was better to be safe than sorry. Hoping whoever it was took her bait of indifference, she ran down the narrow hall and around a corner where the space opened up to the main holding room where barrels of wine used to ferment.
In front of her were stairs to the upper level. The wall surrounding the stairs was lined with floor to ceiling wine racks partially filled with empty wine bottles. The wall to her right was set back just enough to accommodate a long skinny empty wooden table. The few remaining empty barrels were stacked vertically behind her and in a pyramid shape along the far wall to her left, obscuring the dirt wall and providing just enough room for a person to crouch down and hide behind. She stumbled just a bit, running to get behind the huge barrels. She couldn't see very well since the only light came from torches lit sporadically along the hallway.
She couldn't see the hallway entrance due to the vertically stacked barrels, but she would still have the element of surprise if someone really was following her. Her eyes started to adjust to the darkness and she tried to calm her breathing as the dank smell of stagnant earth permeated her senses, threatening her calm.
The minutes dragged on and she started to notice things like dust and cobwebs everywhere. She closed her eyes and forced her thoughts back to what she was doing, not on the fact that spiders lived in her cellar. A moment later she heard the smallest shuffling noise, like the sound of armor, moving from the hallway to the main room. She gathered a kinetic shield around her and pulled energy for a freeze spell.
When a large shadow crawled along the ground and then stopped, she leaned out from behind the barrel, one hand on the ground to balance her as she stayed low to make a smaller target, her other hand up and ready to throw her spell. She froze as her eyes crashed into the large man in front of her. She immediately dropped her hand and let the freeze spell dissipate, released the kinetic shield and stood up in disbelief.
"Cullen?" Her normal formality with the Knight-Commander dropped as he closed the distance between them. What the hell was he doing, she thought. She looked around as if the brick walls could supply the answer.
"What are you doing in my family's cellar?" she tried again when he didn't answer her. Not for a second did she think it had anything to do with her actions at the pub. She could allow wishful thinking in her mind but not her reality. When he just kept staring at her intently, not answering, a horrible realization hit her. He was there to arrest her for being a mage outside the circle! It was the only plausible explanation for his unusual appearance. But why now after failing to do so any time before and after everything she'd done for Kirkwall?
"So, you've finally come to arrest the apostate?" She put her hands on her hips. His silence fueled her inability to keep her fear and frustration from creeping into her voice and she'd spoken more rudely than she'd intended but she couldn't seem to stop.
"I have to admit I'm surprised you waited so long. I see you're going to take the pleasure of bringing me in yourself." She looked around her, waiting for more Templars to come storming in. After a few moments of waiting, none materialized. More confused than ever, she turned back to him hoping he'd provide some sort of clarification. Instead, she was rooted to the spot as she watched him rake his eyes over her.
Her traitorous body started tingling as if he'd physically caressed her with his hands. It was moments like this that she hated herself. Her behavior in the pub made this moment particularly acute. The man that hated mages could arouse her with a look, and she liked it. She was glad it was dark in the cellar so he couldn't see her blush as the tingling spread lower.
She moved her hands to her sides and swallowed hard as she waited for him to finish his assessment of her. When he looked back at her, the darkness made his dilated eyes look the color of dark honey. She felt that invisible pull again. He took a step closer to her, and though she didn't fear him, she instinctively took a step back. He was so close to her. She was like prey caught in the sights of a predator.
"Marian..." His voice, deeper than she'd ever heard it; teased her. His male scent enveloped her. The room suddenly felt too small. Her dress made her feel exposed and vulnerable, further inciting her. Her body was reading something her mind couldn't see. Could he tell how much he affected her? How much she wanted it to be yearning for her that she'd heard in his voice? How much she cared for him?
She tried desperately to get her mind to clear or she would be lost. Think woman! She yelled to herself. She wanted this torture to end. She came up with a half-hearted, "Get out," then tried to avoid looking at him without fidgeting. Her heart skipped over itself when she saw him take another step towards her.