He hated himself with a burning passion.
Every day when he woke up, he knelt down and prayed to the Maker that he would not be possessed by demons today. He prayed that his curse be lifted. He prayed and prayed and sometimes asked why he was born this way.
Why was he born a mage?
His father had tried to teach him that magic was a gift, but all Edgar could see whenever he used his talents was sin. He was from a family of sinners. But even still, he loved his mother, father, brother and sister too much to go to the Circle tower. He held their family together most of the time.
Or, at least, until the blight struck. Even after their family moved to Kirkwall – after he lost Bethany and his father – Edgar Hawke still tried to hold their family together. But he was slowly coming undone.
He had contemplated going to the circle multiple times, that maybe there he could find peace. He felt guilty not being in circle and it hurt him to think about how he wasn't obeying the law.
But if he left,what would come of Carver or his mother? How would his mother survive without him? Edgar wanted to give his mother the world.
So every day he would pray and pray to the Maker and Andraste that a demon wouldn't possess him and that he'd be forgiven of his magical sin when he joined the Maker's side someday. He would also pray for his family, especially his mother. He prayed that he could give her the life she deserved someday.
And then it hit him one day.
It felt like his prayers had been answered. A deep roads expedition.
This would be the perfect way to get money so he could get his mother out of Lowtown.
He had to be in this expedition.
Little did he know that that fateful day he went to meet Bartrand Tethras in Hightown would be the day his entire life would change.
What does it feel like to be a prisoner in your own body? What does it feel like to hate every fiber of your being? What does it feel like to despise yourself for being born the way you are?
Edgar Hawke knew this all too well.
He hated mages.
He hated himself.
Edgar was unsure about walking into the Hanged Man. It looked unclean and was probably full of criminals and vandals. He sighed, "Varric? Are you sure this place is...decent?"
The blonde dwarf looked practically offended by the question, "Well, Hawke, I'm so deeply hurt you would think that of my favorite bar in all of Kirkwall. Trust me."
The male mage shook his head, running a pale hand through his dark auburn hair. He looked back at Aveline and Carver. His brother gave a small laugh, walking ahead with no fear.
Aveline put a hand on Edgar's shoulder, "It's not so bad, Hawke. I've only been called here a couple times on patrol. There's far worse bars in Kirkwall."
The auburn-haired mage watched as the red-haired warrior walked into the bar as well. Varric smiled, pushing an unwilling Hawke forward. Hawke reluctantly walked into the bar too.
It wasn't as bad as he thought, actually. In fact, it was kinda cozy.
He looked around a bit, before noticing a dark-skinned beauty near the bar.
To him, she looked perfect and he already felt like he was in love.
He admired her gorgeous curves and the way her breasts almost poured over the top of her shirt. They heaved slightly as she took a swig of beer. Her skin tight white dress clung to her, revealing almost every delicious part of her frame. But the best part of all? The fact she wore no pants combined with a set of delectable long legs that looked like they would taste like smooth chocolate.
He couldn't get the image of her out of his sight.
But before he could approach her, Edgar felt a small tap in the middle of his back. He could feel Varric nudging him towards the stairs and up towards the dwarf's own suite.
"Oh yes, we're her to talk...or something...right?" Hawke hazily said as if he had been awoken from a dream or something.
Varric laughed rather loudly as he walked up the stairs. Hawke looked around to see Carver nearby, awkwardly flirting with a waitress and Aveline following directly behind him, "Carver!"
Carver looked at his brother then back at the waitress, "Sorry...I have to go..."
The waitress shrugged, not looking particularly caring.
While in his suite, Varric explained about a Grey Warden and how he might have maps into the deep roads. Edgar listened, paying less attention then he usually would.
He kept thinking about long, dark legs and those curves...Those sweet, delicious curves...
As soon as Varric was done talking, Hawke made his way downstairs – hoping she would still be there.
She wasn't.
He looked around, no chocolate legs or short white dresses that could be shirts in sight.
He just had to know who she was though.
Approaching the bartender, he motioned over to where the woman had been drinking, "Uh, the dark skinned woman who was drinking over there? You know, the one in the short white dress? What's her name?"
The bartender looked confused for a second before responding, "Isabela?"
Isabela. The name was pretty, but also had a tinge of mystique to it. It suited her.
"Does she come here often?" Hawke asked gingerly, hoping the bartender didn't mind his questions.
He nodded as he handed a beer to a waitress, "Aye. She rents a room here, actually. She's some sort of pirate captain, she says, although she's been stranded in Kirkwall since that nasty storm hit. You know, the one that also shipwrecked those Qunari? Doubt the title of pirate captain means much without a boat."
Hawke began to imagine those velvety smooth legs covered in droplets of water – glistening. He imagined the storm soaking her white dress and how the fabric would cling to her in all the right places. He imagined her commanding a group of men and how it would feel to be under her...in more ways than one...
Shivering, he tried to push those thoughts out of his head. The bartender looked at him awkwardly before pouring another glass of beer for one of his patrons, "You just missed her, if you're wondering. She headed out the door mumbling somethin' about a lead. She should be here later though. You should come back. You're definitely her type."
Edgar's pale white eyes practically lit up as he heard that, "I'm her type?"
The bartender laughed rather loudly at that, "It's hard not to be Isabela's type."
Oh. Hawke was a religious man and not an expert in the slightest when it came to women but he knew what that meant. She gave it up easily.
But he was too invested in her already. He wanted to feel her, to taste her, to be with her and he hadn't even met her.
He looked at the bartender giving a small smile, "Thanks for the information. I'll be back later."
He had time to kill until later, he supposed, so he looked at Varric, Aveline and Carver and motioned for them to head outside. Might as well go look for a grey warden until Isabela got back to the hanged man.
Hawke was certain he would have to pray even harder before going to bed tonight.
Because like the void was he going to let a desire demon possess him.
But part of him already felt possessed by desire and that scared the shit out of him.
A/N: I hopefully will at least update this with one or two more chapters. Edgar is one of my favorite Hawkes I've made because I thought the whole fact he hates himself and views magic as a sin even though he is a mage very interesting. I also adore the relationship he shares with Isabela because it's actually kinda complicated. I also wanted to write Edgar because I feel likeit will be a challenge to attempt to make him likable.
Will there be sex later on? I'm hoping so because it is Isabela I mean come on. If not, this is at least gonna be a little sexy so hi, M rating!