He fought with finesse. A nimble thing; thin but muscular with rigid form and slender motion. He fought with a rapier, preferring to poke his enemies to death rather than dismember them blow by blow. There was something daring about seeing him charge head on into battle with nothing but a long needle, and in a way it even worked to his advantage. None of the highwaymen seemed to take him seriously as a threat; they were too distracted by Hawke's two-handed axe to notice the tiny stinger at the back of their skull. She expected most of the stories about him to be a bit exaggerated, just as they were about her (mostly thanks to Varric), but one detail was not: he was certainly dashing. Long brown hair to his shoulders, the outline of his jaw traced by a thin beard from one ear to the next; he looked like the handsome noble that most bards made him out to be, but that only reminded her of the self-absorbed pricks of Hightown. Part of her hoped he'd be more of a grizzly warrior than a noble-blooded pretty-boy, but alas reality was typically more disappointing than her expectations. At least he could fight.
After she finished hacking through the last highwayman, she jerked her axe from his corpse and felt the Hero of Ferelden approach her, sheathing his rapier. "Welcome back to Ferelden" he jested. Hawke was covered in blood, while his fancy clothes had not a drop on them.
"Do you rally the parade for every homecoming, or am I a special occasion?" Hawke responded.
The other Grey Wardens who came to her aid began searching the bodies, "It's a requirement in Ferelden actually, one highway mugging per visit. It does wonders for the trade industry." He was charming, but he spoke slowly and deliberately, as if he were speaking more to himself than to her.
"I could've handled them on my own."
He raised his hands, "No need to impress me, Champion. Or should I call you Hawke?"
"Only if I can call you Cousland."
He laughed at that, "Oh Maker no, what a dull name. Eckhart will do just fine." He extended a hand in greeting.
She wiped some blood on her trousers and returned the handshake, "Then I'm Marian."
"A pleasure Marian. As I was saying before, Isabela threatened to have my manhood if I didn't extend all my courtesies to you. I assumed that included my blade. Where is Isabela if I may ask, I thought she'd be with you?"
Hawke looked away. She was hoping she could avoid that topic. "Isabela does as she pleases, I wouldn't know where she is."
It didn't come out very convincingly, and from the look on his face she could tell Eckhart was starting to piece together the truth, but he didn't press the issue. "Very well. As promised you'll find shelter at my estate, which is just off the road a ways. My squire will show you the way. Tobias!" he called to a young man helping the Wardens clear the road. As he walked over, Eckhart lowered his voice "You'll have to forgive his... enthusiasm. To be honest it'll be refreshing to get away from him for a day."
He sheepishly approached and kneeled on the stone road. "It is an honour my lady, to kneel before the Champion of Kirkwall!"
"Get up Tobias" Eckharts words were drowned out by the squire's fanaticism.
"Driving out those Qunari heretics, defeating the Arishok single-handedly!Truly I was blessed by the maker to serve such noble heroes..."
Marian was surprised the boy neglected to mention her part in aiding another group of 'heretics', which might have meant the Chantry was keeping it under wraps after all. It certainly wouldn't help their cause to let mages know the Champion of Kirkwall was on their side. While her newest fan spilled his heart out to her, Eckhart leaned in to whisper "One of my cousin's children. They insisted I take him on." Turning again to his squire, he interrupted, "That's enough Tobias! You are to escort the Champion to my estate and show her the guest quarters. Understood?"
"Yes m'lord, I shall escort the lady Hawke."
"If he calls me 'lady' one more time, I might have to smash something," Marian half-joked.
"Isabela's threats scare me more than darkspawn," he said with a smile, "but if you can't behave yourself, you'll be back on the highway." It was a typical noble male gesture she observed; that need to establish their dominant ego. Hawke didn't like that.
She stepped closer, face to face with the Hero of Ferelden, this time more seriously. She was almost as tall as him. "No one orders me around."
"And no one disobeys me." He kept his ground, unphased by the giant axe over her shoulder.
"Why give me a squire, don't you know the way to your own hovel?"
The Hero chuckled, "My dear, I'd love to, but I simply haven't the time." He turned away to look out on to the road ahead, "I have some business to attend to, Grey Warden matters, I won't bore you with the details. Just try to relax while you're here, Tobias can give you a tour of my 'hovel'."
Before leading his soldiers in the other direction, Hawke stopped him. "Wait... I wanted to ask you... about Bethany." It did no favours to her authority to sound like a beggar, but she needed to know.
"Ah, I imagined you might have questions. There'll be time for that later, when I return. I promise."
The Wardens departed, lead by their 'hero', and Hawke was left with the pestering squire. Her clothes were bloodied, but luckily she had her favourite housecoat tucked away in her pack.
The Estate was obscured by a small forest, but once they penetrated the brush, they came upon a marvellous view of the Waking Sea, with a huge manor overlooking it atop some cliffs. It daunted her to know that somewhere across the expanse of water stood Kirkwall, in the chaotic state she left it in. It didn't feel right leaving it behind and hiding like a coward, but all her companions agreed she needed to disappear until the Chantry made its next move.
When they climbed the steps and passed through the archway to the manor, Hawke's first thoughts turned to the blood that covered her. "Where can I get a bath?" she said, interrupting Tobias' ramble about the Hero's victory at Denerim, over half a decade ago.
He stopped mid sentence and looked at her with his thoughts derailed, "A bath? Oh certainly! Would you prefer the tubs or the cave pool?"
"Cave pool?"
It was so beautiful she thought it had to be poisonous. It was that certain type of natural beauty only an artist could recreate. The water shimmered turquoise as the sunlight shone in from the opening of the cave. She could look out on to the sea from the shade as the waves splashed in. "Will this suffice?" Tobias asked as if it were just another bath house. For a moment she almost forgot he was there, the water enticed her so.
"Yes, thank you." She replied politely. The squire retreated to the steps at the back of the cave leading up to the basement. Almost immediately she removed her stained clothes and dipped into the water. Her body began to warm to the sea, and she noticed a few light coloured stones along the edge of the pool. As she swam closer she saw they were not stones, but bars and bottles of different soaps. Each had its own scent, and though she was no expert, she could tell the quality was Orlesian.
Once she was clean, she changed into her red housecoat and began exploring the rest of the grounds. The manor was quite dull compared to the caves, and apart from the artwork and statues throughout the estate, there wasn't much that interested Hawke. She handed her dirty clothes to a female elf servant named Yara, who apart from Eckhart and Tobias seemed to be the only other resident of the large building. "Lord Eckhart keeps to himself and his work mostly. The Wardens don't have much time for personal lives." She replied when Hawke inquired about the building's emptiness. "I'm not complaining of course, it's a lot easier to clean a house that's never lived in. All I do is dust the shelves and keep the sea crabs out. But sometimes I worry about Lord Eckhart; he'll disappear for months on his 'missions'."
"Worried you might lose your job?"
"This isn't my job, this is my home. Lord Eckhart and Tobias are the closest things to family I have."
"But it is your job, right." The girl looked too young to be the Hero's wife, at least she hoped.
"I suppose you have a point. I've known Eckhart almost half my life, I just don't think of him as an employer anymore."
"And what if the estate is looted while he's away? It's pretty secluded to be left undefended."
The girl simply laughed heartily "It's safe as long as Artemis is here."
"Artemis?"
"M'lord's pet Mabari. I've seen him shred through a pack of thieves by himself. But don't let the legends fool you, he's as adorable as they come."
A week passed, and the Warden commander still hadn't returned. As nice as it was in the caves, part of Marian hoped looters would break in. Her fight with Isabela kept her in a foul mood, and all she wanted to do was hack things. She was somewhat entertained overhearing Tobias' conversations with Yara. For the amount they talked to Hawke, those two were useless at talking to each other; a common side effect of young infatuation. Their idea of small talk brought a smile to her face whenever she heard them awkwardly mention the weather or something they happened to be wearing, too terrified of each other to even touch. That was never Hawke's idea of romanticism. When she wanted something, she tackled it and dealt with the consequences later.
She finished another bath by the sea and wrapped herself in a towel. Tobias was off bartering with a caravan, Yara went for her sunset walk along the coast, and Artemis seemed to be busy chasing a stray cat through the yard. Hawke had the whole manor to herself, but there was only one part of it that really interested her, the room she had yet to explore.
She had no reason to sneak in an empty house, but if she were sneaking, the creak in Eckhart's door would've put an end to that. She had heard of paranoid lords designing their doors and floorboards to be an extra bit noisier, in case of an unwanted guest, and the weight of her every step confirmed that suspicion. Eckhart's room looked just as unused as the rest of the house, but it had a bit more character to it. It was large, with half the room set up as a study, and the other half occupied by a large bed. The walls were lined with bookshelves, stacked full with tomes about Thedas and its people. His desks were covered in maps, with tiny throwing knives pinned to most of the cities. On the dresser next to his bed stood a tiny figurine of Andraste, and next to it was a framed sketch drawn in charcoal. It was a portrait of a young woman from her head down to her naked breasts; she seemed to be combing her hear with the slightest smile on her lips. Hawke was drawn to it, lifting it up off the shelf to look closer; the woman looked remarkably familiar.
"I believe you've met Leliana, yes?" said a voice from behind her. Hawke turned around so suddenly her towel nearly fell. The thing that startled her most was that she never heard the creaky door open or the loose floorboards bend. "I see you've made yourself at home already." He said as he tossed his pack on to a desk. He also carried her red housecoat, "I believe these are yours."
"Well perhaps, since you're such a gentleman, you wouldn't mind waiting outside while I change." She tilted her head and smirked.
"This is my room! And I need to change."
"Very well then, just stand there if you prefer," she said as she dropped the towel to the floor. She began switching into her housecoat as if he wasn't even there.
The Warden Commander just shook his head, "Alright champion, have it your way," then left the room.
Once she was changed, she headed down the stairs to meet Eckhart sitting in the lounge next to the fireplace and took a seat across from him, staring deeply into the fire. "Who drew that portrait" she asked, referring to the one she found in his bedchamber.
"I did," his eyes never left the fire. When Marian offered no reply he smiled, "I wanted to be an artist, in another life."
It came as a surprise to her. It was the first thing she'd learned about him that didn't involve the Wardens or Darkspawn. "It's very beautiful."
"I can't take any of the credit for that. That's just Leliana."
He quickly started to seem less like the uptight noble she envisioned him to be. All of a sudden he was interesting, thoughtful even. "You two are close?"
"Once upon a time; it's all in the songs now." He paused, "It's not easy, loving the people who follow you into battle, but then I guess you can't really escape it." She agreed in silence. She wasn't ready to bring up Isabela again. A bottle rested on the table in front of him. "Would you like a glass?" he gestured to it.
"Please" she nodded.
"Ah, so Champions do have manners."
She chuckled, "I...apologize if I've been a rude guest. It wasn't exactly my idea to come here, and I'm more used to giving orders than following them."
"So whose idea was it?" he asked while pouring the wine into her glass.
She stared down into the red liquid; it smelled Orlesian. "Isabela said we could trust you."
"Ah, Isabela. And I imagine you trust her." Hawke said nothing. "She's a hard woman to trust, and her trust is even harder to earn. I imagine you'd have to be quite close to someone like that to put that much faith in them."
Hawke just drank, looking into the fire. Her voice felt too frail to speak at that moment. "I bet it's hard for her too," he continued, "a lowly pirate living in the shadow of the Champion of Kirkwall."
It was enough to move her to words. "That's not true!"
"Of course not. Nobody would say the woman who single-handedly drove out the Qunari was too good for the selfish pirate whore who pissed them off in the first place. Mostly because they don't even know she exists."
Marian stood and grabbed the bottle. "One more word and I'll shove this down your throat!"
"If I'm so wrong, then why isn't Isabela here now?"
She wanted to smash the bottle over his head right then, but it wouldn't prove him wrong. Nothing could prove him wrong. She knew it wasn't Isabela he was mocking, it was her. She told him what she told herself, "I couldn't have beaten the Qunari alone, Isabela came back. She made up for her mistake."
"And yet you're the only one people remember. The leader ends up taking all the blame and all the glory in the end, and everyone else gets filed away in the archives. Can you imagine what it's like to never feel good enough for the one you love?"
"Says the 'Hero of Ferelden'."
He shrugged, "You of all people should know the triviality of a title. I've made the same mistakes, you know. The difference is I was young and stupid, whereas you're a grown woman. You're wise enough to make up for things."
"If she wants me back, then she can say so. I'm not crawling back to her."
"The way she spoke of you... She may be your captain, but you're her leader. She looks to you for guidance, for approval. If she believes you don't want her, then to her there's no hope."
"I still don't understand why anyone would follow me."
"You're strong. Not in battle but in mind, although your savagery with an axe is also quite dazzling. People want to be lead, they need direction, so they find the strongest person they can and anoint them leader whether they want it or not. I suppose that's why we worship the Maker; people need to feel a sense of purpose, even leaders like us."
It was a strange thought, coming from a man with Andraste at his bedside. "Do you believe?" Marian asked.
"In the Maker? I give him the benefit of the doubt. You?"
"Maybe I believe he exists, but I see no reason to worship him. What has he done for us lately? Did he stop the blights?"
"No, but then I wonder what we've done for him. Violence, greed, corruption, who would save a race like us? Even if the Chant is wrong, if it turns out to be arbitrary indoctrination, would it really hurt to follow? Even if it didn't end the blights once and for all, would it be so wrong if mankind could live an honest life without sin? Must there be a Maker for there to be a right and a wrong?"
"Sometimes there is no right answer."
"I sincerely hope you're correct, but that doesn't stop me from regretting my mistakes."
She sighed in disbelief. "What would the savoir of Ferelden know about regret?"
"Just as much as the Champion of Kirkwall, I imagine. You did what you thought was right at the time, as did I, but everyone has to live with their mistakes, no matter how heroic people think we are... I couldn't save my family either."
Marian looked away. The wine softened her, and of course Eckhart waited 'til she was just comfortable enough before returning to that topic. "Bethany..."
"Is alive. More than that, I cannot say. It was over five years ago that I met her in the Free Marches. She was still fresh, still dealing with the struggle of being a Warden. She seemed a lot less terrified than I was when I first took the joining, but I think she had just learned to mask it better. She's a brave girl your sister, maybe a little unsure of herself, but full of potential. She reminded me of myself back then.
"Oh, and despite the fact they don't always get along, she admires her sister terribly, and misses her. I think she wants to prove she's finally learned how to look after herself, but that's just my best guess. I can't say when you'll see her again, or if you ever will, but I can say she's a part of something greater now, and the world will know of her sacrifices."
Hawkes eyes were red. "Maker, I've had too much wine already." Her voice was hoarse, her nose stuffy. She kept her face away from the fire, in darkness. "I think I'll retire for the night." Eckhart simply nodded and stared into the flames. She couldn't hesitate, she had to make it to her room before her emotions had enough freedom to burst. Speaking over her shoulder, she simply replied "Thank you." Her tears ushered her into the fade that night, while Lord Cousland thought deeply at the fire.