Prologue - A Pirate's Life
Kit Hawke took to pirating like a fish to water. Within two months after they had left Kirkwall, he had traded his bulky armour for a pair of leather pants, a shirt and a vest and had got the hang of using a cutlass, even though he still preferred his trusted daggers. Soon he gained the crew's respect, sparring with the best of them. Isabela devoted part of each day to teaching him all he needed to know about sailing. Kit loved the gentle sway of the ship under his feet, he thrived in the salty sea air and the rough breezes. But the real test of his mettle came when they sighted a Nevarran merchantman off the coast near Ostwick.
The Wicked Grace was a lot faster than the stodgy merchantman. Within moments they were closing in and preparing to board. When the two ships collided, Kit and Fenris threw themselves into the fray with abandonment. Isabela laughed with delight when she saw the two of them fight side by side, a look of savage enjoyment on their faces. Their other companions kept to the back, with Anders and Bethany restricting themselves to some much-needed healing spells. Isabela had put her foot down firmly on any further involvement of the mages, unwilling to risk her ship to a stray fireball. Aveline and Donnic had refused to take part in a pirate attack, and Varric elected to stay below decks with Merrill. Neither of them enjoyed being at sea very much.
When the merchantman's captain signalled his surrender, Isabela quickly gave the order to bind and guard the prisoners, and then went down to the cargo hold with Kit at her side to inspect their booty. They had made a good catch. Bales of fine cloth, a few crates of weapons, even some carefully stowed chests filled with potions and poultices. But Isabela's eyes lit up when they came to the last compartment of the hold and found five large barrels stacked against the wall.
"Rum!" she exclaimed with a delighted grin. "And not just any old rum," she added when she examined the stamps on the barrels. "The real thing, from Seheron." Kit eyed her questioningly, and she elaborated. "Every pirate's favourite poison, Kit. Made from sugar cane. You'll love it."
A loud cheer went up from the crew when Isabela announced what they had found. Later that night, when they had left the floundering wreck of the merchantman behind, a delegation of pirates appeared on the bridge and asked to speak with the captain. Kit listened, torn between amusement and irritation, when they demanded their share of the rum. Not at the next port, but right now, as soon as they reached a good place to drop anchor and go ashore for a night of drinking and debauchery. To his surprise, Isabela agreed without as much as a shrug.
Kit grumbled, but she just grinned. "Pirates, Kit. They only care about a small number of very specific things: the sea, strong drink, and booty. Both kinds. If there's rum involved, better just let them get it out of their system."
It took them another day to find a suitable anchoring place near one of the small islands surrounding Brandel's Reach. The crew happily set off toward the beach with the rum barrels. Isabela insisted on staying on board, though.
"Oh no!" she smirked when Kit suggested they join the party. "They are pirates. I prefer not to leave my ship unprotected on a night like this." When she saw his disappointment, she laughed merrily. "Don't worry, Kit. I kept one of the barrels here. We'll make our own fun here on deck."
It was a balmy night, and the rum flowed freely. They could hear the pirates' raucous laughter from the shore, snatches of song drifting over the water now and then. We pillage and plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me 'earties... Kit grinned from ear to ear at the words. We're rascals and scoundrels... we're devils and black sheep... a pirate's life for me...
Isabela rolled her eyes. "Really, that lot seems intent on proving Varric's pirate stories true," she muttered. "Next thing you know they'll start carrying parrots on their shoulders and wearing eye patches."
But it was obvious she was enjoying herself as well. They set up a makeshift table in the middle of the lower deck and shared out the rum and some other delicacies they'd found on board the merchantman. Even Aveline forgot her stiff-lipped disapproval when Isabela handed her a glass, and she took a tentative sip.
"Maker's breath, Isabela, this stuff is really good!" The former guard captain's voice was genuinely surprised. Donnic laughed and pulled her closer.
Varric began to tell stories, and everyone relaxed. Even Anders smiled a little, and he and Bethany cast little spells for the group's entertainment, producing pretty flowers and dancing wisps that made Merrill squeak with delight. Fenris forgot his habitual scowl at the use of magic, and Kit didn't find it in his heart any more to sulk at his sister and the mage. He had been livid when he found out they were sharing a bed. But now, when he heard Bethany's happy giggle and saw the way Anders was looking at her, he relented and smiled at them both.
As the evening went on, Varric's tales became raunchier, with Isabela eagerly adding some of her own. Anders and Bethany cuddled up ever closer until they finally slipped off into the night, much to Kit's relief. He wasn't up to watching them make out, not yet. Probably never. But he couldn't suppress an affectionate grin when he realized that Orana had joined the party and was just now snuggling closer to Fenris. Despite their shared background, the shy housekeeper had always been wary of Fenris, afraid of the power of his markings. But now, under the influence of rum and the general air of light-heartedness, she was making puppy eyes at him, and he seemed to enjoy it...
"Such a beautiful night." Orana had moved up quietly next to him, and Fenris' head snapped up in surprise. He didn't even notice at first that she was speaking to him in Arcanum, until he found himself answering in the same language.
"It is," he agreed and raised his tankard to her. "Here's to Hawke who brought us all here."
Orana nodded and sat down close to him, following his line of sight to where Kit was sitting on an upturned chest, sipping his drink and watching them all with a kind of detached amusement. "He's a good man," she said quietly. "In his house, I learned to be truly free."
When Fenris raised a questioning eyebrow at her, she went on. "You know, I went to his bed the first night I stayed at his house. It seemed the right thing to do, with him being the master, and having saved me, and all."
Fenris held his breath. "And what happened?"
Orana laughed and looked away into the distance, over to the island where lights were dancing on the shore. "He sent me away. He said I was perfectly welcome to come back once he could be sure I really wanted to."
Fenris grinned. "That sounds like Hawke. And... did you go back?"
Orana shook her head. "No. I... I'm not really into human men... Too many bad memories."
He nodded. "I think I understand." To his surprise, he found himself strongly attracted to the shy young woman tonight. She was no beauty, with her slightly angular features, but she had pretty eyes and a sweet smile, and it had been a long time since he'd been with an Elven woman. And this one spoke his language and understood more about his past than anyone else on this ship... "Well, I'm not human, mellita..." he murmured and trailed a finger through her long, silver-blond hair, brushing slightly against her ears.
Orana swallowed briefly. "Could we... go somewhere else?"
Fenris nodded and got to his feet, pulling her up with him. "Come."
Kit smiled again as the two disappeared into the darkness, but seconds later he cried out in surprise when Merrill dropped unceremoniously into his lap.
"Can I sit with you, Hawke? Please?" Her luminous green eyes were pleading, and Kit sighed deeply. He had been aware of Merrill's crush on him for some time. And there was no denying that she was sweet and pretty. Just not... what he wanted or needed.
"Merrill-" he started to say, but was interrupted by a low whistle from Varric.
"What's that, Daisy? What do you want with Hawke? What has he got that I haven't?" The dwarf's tone was light, but Kit noticed a clear warning in his eyes. He knew Varric felt fiercely protective toward the little elven mage.
"Well, isn't that obvious?" Merrill's tone was adoring, even as her slurred speech betrayed the fact that she, too, had had a little more rum than she should have. "He's clever, strong, and wonderful. How can anyone not love him?"
Kit nearly choked on his drink and had to cling to Merrill's slight figure to catch his breath, a development she seemed not unhappy with. "Merrill, I-"
But she wouldn't let him finish. "Besides, Isabela is busy tonight. Look."
Kit followed her gaze and hissed sharply. There was no way of telling how Isabela had managed to persuade Aveline, but the two women were wrapped in a passionate embrace, the pirate's nimble fingers playing with Aveline's firm, high breasts as they were kissing deeply and sensually. Donnic was watching them raptly, his eyes fixed on the pirate's tanned hand that made a sharp contrast to Aveline's pale, milky-white skin. Varric looked over as well and said something under his breath that made even Kit blush briefly.
"What was that, Varric?" Merrill's chirrupy voice rang out. "Was it something dirty? You know..." she wiggled closer to Kit and looked up at him. "I miss a lot of dirty things and sometimes I wouldn't mind hearing them."
Kit gasped. The combination of her wiggling and the sight of Isabela and Aveline hadn't failed to make an impact on him.
Merrill's eyes grew even bigger as she felt his reaction. "Oh!" Her lips formed a perfect circle of surprise. "Did I do that?"
Kit cursed silently, then decided this had to stop. Now. His head was less than clear, and he really didn't want to end up doing something they both would regret in the morning. With a firm, determined grip, he lifted Merrill off his lap and handed her over to Varric.
"Take her away, Varric. Please. I..." His voice was strained.
The dwarf grinned broadly, leading a protesting Merrill away to the hatch. "Come on, Daisy. Bedtime for little mages."
Kit sighed and briefly considered calling it a night as well, but just then Donnic took hold of Isabela's wrist and pulled her hand away from Aveline's body. "I think I'll take it from here, Isabela."
The raspy tone of his voice left no doubt as to his intentions as he took his wife's hands and dragged her off to their cabin. Isabela leaned back with a frustrated curse, but then she caught Kit's gaze and they both started to laugh.
"It seems all our happy couples prefer a little more privacy," he chuckled, walking over to her and offering her his hand to help her up.
Isabela smirked but took his hand and gracefully slid up into his arms, meeting his lips for a long kiss, before dragging him over to the railing. "Look, Kit. Isn't this the most beautiful thing in the world?"
He was standing close behind her, and they were looking out over the moonlit sea, silvery waves rippling in the light breeze, the sky a clear midnight blue. They could still hear the faint echoes of the crew's carousing drifting over from the island, the creaking of the ship's planks under their feet, the rustling of the sails.
Kit leaned in to brush his lips against her neck, inhaling her scent and letting his fingers trail down her arms. "No," he breathed against her ear. "You are."
His hands moved to her breasts, half exposed by her earlier smooching with Aveline, and began to knead the soft flesh until she was arching back against him with a small gasp. Kit's hot lips found their way down her spine, nibbling, kissing, igniting her skin. His fingers moved under her tunic, sliding off her smalls, carefully probing her readiness.
She heard him laugh quietly. "You rather enjoyed playing around with Aveline, didn't you?"
Isabela moaned and pressed herself firmly back against his hard body, grinding her hips against him. "Shut up, Kit," she growled. "Not as much as you enjoyed watching, at least by the feel of it. You're not exactly in a position to talk."
His smug grin was almost audible as he quickly unlaced his leather pants. "I like this position just fine, Bells."
He bent her a little over the railing and then she felt him at her back, teasing her briefly with his hardness before he slid into her, slowly and carefully. She drew a deep breath as he settled deep inside her heat, pulling her close, his hands back on her breasts in a skilful caress that went straight down to her core. When he began to move, there was no rush, no urgency, just a slow rocking that perfectly fit her mood. She closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of his hands on her skin, the scent of rum and sex and Kit surrounding her.
"I knew you'd make a perfect pirate," she purred happily, making him chuckle even as his rhythm picked up speed.
"I learned from the best, honey." His breathing became ragged and his movements were getting more erratic.
Suddenly impatient, she grabbed his right hand and moved it down from her breast to her crotch, pressing herself hard against his palm and nearly crying out in pleasure at the increased stimulation. He took the cue, his fingers quickly finding the perfect spot and caressing her until she bucked up hard and came with a violent, urgent shudder. With a triumphant laugh, he bent her down a little further and pounded harder into her, no longer holding back, until he too collapsed breathlessly, spent and satisfied.
Anders' hangover potions were in great demand the next morning. Kit was lying stretched out on a coil of ropes in the sun, trying to catch up on some sleep, when Aveline, Varric and Merrill approached him.
"We need to talk, Hawke." The dwarf's face was uncharacteristically serious.
Kit sat up, flinching at the bright sunlight. "What is it?"
"Look, Hawke, it's obvious you enjoy this life to the full, but we... are not pirates." Aveline hardly looked into his eyes, and he realized she was more than a little embarrassed about what had happened last night. "We've come to tell you that we're going to ask Isabela to take us to Highever. Donnic and I will try and join Anora's service. She's my queen, after all."
"And I'll see if I can establish some kind of trading post there. I've got some contacts in Ferelden." Varric seemed confident. "Bodahn and Sandal will come with me and help me set it all up. And Orana would like to keep house for me. She's not happy at sea."
Kit nodded. This wasn't wholly unexpected. "What about you, Merrill?"
To his surprise, the elf seemed unconcerned about last night's events. Her eyes were shining with excitement. "I'll go exploring, Hawke. Maybe I'll even travel to the Dales. Besides, I've missed Ferelden. Blackberries, you know. They don't seem to grow in the Free Marches. And there are little song birds with black caps on their heads."
"So, that's it then." Kit sighed a little. "Well, at least Fen will stay with us."
"And so will we." Anders and Bethany had stepped up, and the mage looked at Kit intently. "If you'll have us, I'd rather stay with you, Hawke, than try my luck at Vigil's Keep. The new Warden Commander doesn't know me and has no reason to help me. She's just as likely to have me executed for what happened in Kirkwall."
"Of course you'll stay with us." Kit smiled warmly at his sister, then turned to the others. "All right. Let's talk to Isabela."
When all goodbyes were said and the Wicked Grace had left Highever behind, Kit looked around. He would miss them all, he realized, but he was excited about the future, as well. Their next stop would be Val Royeaux, Isabela had said. He'd never been to Orlais. A pirate's life. Devils and black sheep. Pillage and plunder. Kit grinned widely as he climbed up the rigging for a last look back at Ferelden. Sounds perfect.
On to Orlais... This prologue is set between Chapter 1 and 2 of "Redemption". Check out that story if you want to read more about Anders and Bethany.
Hugs and thanks to zevgirl for another amazing beta job. And thanks to spectre4hire for pointing out my cannon mistake ;-)