NSFW ahead! Thar be angsty smut ahead!
The turmoil had finally died down within the confines of Kirkwall, but Hawke knew well enough that she couldn't go back to her home… Home. Is that what she really called it? Kirkwall hadn't been her home and she'd known that ever since she'd gotten here. She felt as though she'd made one bad decision after the other.
She tried to reason it wasn't her fault. She hadn't made the decision to come to Kirkwall ten years ago, but at the time she didn't know what else to do to keep her family safe. Ever since Bethany died, it was mostly downhill from there.
Sure… She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her fault, that she'd done some good once she'd gotten to Kirkwall, but really all she felt she'd done was fail the ones she loved most. Bethany died because she couldn't protect her. Her mother died because she didn't keep an eye on her. Carver joined the Templars because she'd always engaged in competition with him and refused to let him go on the Deep Roads expedition with her.
Letting out a sigh she continued to stare at the wall, legs wrapped to the side of her as she leaned her forearms onto her bed in the Templar's barracks. Once they'd cleaned up the bodies from the gallows she'd decided to stay down here with the Templars. Aveline found some mages who'd managed to escape the fray try to torch her house up in Hightown, but she'd managed to thwart them before they'd done any real damage.
She knew she wasn't safe up there anymore, so Varric, Aveline, Fenris and Sebastian had gathered up her most important things for her which wasn't much. Her father's armor, his journal, and her mother's ring. Once retrieved she placed it on her thumb to keep it close. She didn't care about what happened to the house now, much to her shame. She knew her mother had held it dear, but it wasn't her home. Nowhere was home.
Aveline had been urging her to become Viscountess of Kirkwall; it needed a leader and Hawke was the hero they needed. Hero? She'd barked at her friend. She was not a hero. She was a failure, and she could not lead a city, especially one so corrupt.
A knock sounded at her door, meaning it wasn't Carver or Guerin, and she'd finally told them to come in. Varric entered and he gave her that sad piteous look she was becoming accustomed to. None of her friends knew how to help her, neither her brothers. She didn't even know how to help herself at this point either. She felt so guilty for taking lives during the meltdown. She didn't agree with either side, but she'd chosen the Templars for Carver.
"Hey, how are you doing?" Varric sat down on a chair in the corner of the small room.
Hawke didn't move until she finally spoke. "I don't know."
"Well, you need to decide fast. I heard a rumor that the seekers might be on their way. And they want to speak with you. About the incident, I'm sure, but you have to get out of here before they get here."
"I can't leave you all." She said defiantly. "What if…"
"Hawke, trust us. We can take care of ourselves too," Varric tried to soothe her. "But for now, we need to get you out of here. You know it's for the best. You've been through too much, and this wasn't your fault."
She sighed, "I know… But…"
"Choir boy sent a missive, he'll be here by tonight."
"You're not going anywhere without me." Both of their attention turned towards the door which suddenly opened. Carver was spying from behind it and finally revealed himself.
"But, Carver, the Templars—"
"Do not need me any longer. You see what's been happening, and we shouldn't stay here any longer with whatever that thing Meredith became sitting out there in the Gallows. The Templar order is no more, sister."
"Then we'll leave tomorrow morning. Varric?"
He sighed, "I can't come with you, Hawke. I know you may not think it, but this is my home; it always has been."
"Well… One last drink at The Hanged Man tonight?"
"You've got my approval. I'll let Aveline, Fenris, and Isabela know. I imagine Isabela and Fenris will be leaving with you."
"I don't know…"
Varric, after a while of idle chatter with the Hawke siblings finally made his leave. Carver was perched on the side of his bed as she still sat on the floor, back to her bed now.
"So where are we going this time?"
Hawke thought hard about it, and she finally thought of something. "We head to Denerim."
"Denerim?"
"Yes, we appeal to King Alistair. He came here before the rebellion started, he said that if I needed anything Ferelden was always there with open arms. Plus, I kind of met the Queen once. Or twice."
"What?! You met the Hero of Ferelden?"
"Yes, the first time we bumped into each other at Ostagar when we were heading towards the battle. We had looked at each other a moment for some reason. Then when we were on the Deep Roads expedition she helped us to find a way out. She thought she was hearing the calling and headed into the roads in order to die honorably. I heard she'd returned to Denerim about a year later, and I haven't heard anything else so I assume she's alive and well."
"Wow… You've made friends in high places, sister."
She shrugged, "It's not like I meant to." A silence spread between them. "Where's Guerin?"
Carver let out a sigh. "I think he's been speaking with Knight Captain Cullen about the situation. I think he's taken it upon himself to figure things out in your place."
"Not like I'd be much good at it. I'm just a dumb brute with a sword." She chuckled sadly.
They began to pack their things up and put together their provisions for the trip. Carver didn't plan on speaking with the Knight Captain, but since the Templars were disbanded, he figured he was free to go, so he went with Hawke down to The Hanged Man for one more raucous night with her companions.
Hawke had started quickly on the ale and everyone knew why, but chose to ignore it all the same. Varric was matching her drink for drink as well as Isabela. Cautious tones were being given from Aveline but were half-hearted at this point. Fenris was partaking in the drinking, but he was as composed as he usually was.
"And then, then she gets this fussied up look on her face—ooh that one! That one right there! And she proceeds to tell me that she likes a challenge!" Isabela laughed loudly and Hawke cringed. Bela of course was speaking about the first time she'd seen Sebastian from afar with Hawke. Before she knew the man, before she loved the man; when all she thought of him was some chantry boy to be conquered. Oh she conquered him, but he had conquered her as well. She had a saddened look to her brow now. She knew what was coming for the two of them; he knew it as well.
"Did I ever tell you all about the time Bela here really lost her pants?" Hawke drawled.
"Really? There was a time when Isabela wore pants?" Carver quipped.
"Mm," Isabela stared at her little brother, "tell me again about the chant of light, Carver."
"Well, you see—" Hawke began when she saw their attention turn towards the door. She glanced behind her shoulder to see Sebastian lowering his hood and she turned to her companions. They knew this was the time she departed from them. She'd already told them she and Sebastian had a lot to speak about. She held her hand out to Fenris and they clasped their hands around the others' forearms grasping tightly.
"Hawke, you've been an admirable ally, and an even greater, treasured friend."
"You as well, Fenris. I hope your travels treat you well."
"We shall see."
"Aveline—"
"There's no need, Hawke. Come here," She embraced her fellow giant woman who'd become as much of a sister to her as she could. "If you ever need anything, you needn't hesitate to ask. You know this right?" Hawke nodded, "May you find peace where you go, my sister."
"Thank you, Aveline."
"Aw, big girl, you're moving me to tears." Isabela said wiping the tear from her eye. "Hawke, must you leave? Oh who am I kidding, I'm leaving too." The two embraced as well.
"Oh, Isabela, try not to get into too much trouble."
"You know I will."
"I know."
"Thank you for everything, Hawke. I owe you my life."
Hawke shook her head, "Consider us even."
Varric was off to the side and she made her way over to him as she saw Sebastian come up to their companions. "Varric…" For the first time tears began to spring to her own eyes.
"Don't you dare, Hawke. We'll see each other again. Just don't do the waterworks around me, you've never cried, I can't see it now."
She cleared her throat and brought her towering form down to his. "I will never know a better friend than you."
"Goodbye, Hawke."
"Goodbye, Varric." She parted from them all with one last goodbye. Carver nodded to her and would head back to the barracks later. She wasn't sure where she'd end up, but she'd spend her last night with Sebastian.
"I've… Missed you, love," His words got caught in his throat, but he planted a kiss to her forehead.
"I've missed you too." She said. They began to walk, silently through the slums of Lowtown and she knew they were headed towards her house in Hightown. Once they'd made it there they'd made sure to check the perimeter for anyone skulking around. Her doors were still locked and her windows still sealed shut. She didn't have her key so Sebastian got to work picking the lock on her front door.
Once inside the threshold she began to peel her light armor off and set it down on the bench. She watched as he did the same. He was slow, deliberate, as if he knew what the end of the night held and he didn't want to begin what was inevitable. She swallowed the lump in her throat and she let out a sigh as she headed towards the kitchen.
Too much had happened. Too much had shown them they weren't right for each other any longer. Kirkwall brought them together, but Kirkwall was the only thing keeping them together. She couldn't go to Starkhaven and be the princess to his prince. He knew that, which was why he hadn't asked her to do it.
She placed her hands on the countertop in her kitchen, the weight was still heavy upon her shoulders. She hated this place, but loved it at the same time. The stone was cold beneath her fingers, and smooth. He was behind her, she could feel his presence, smell the soft scent that wafted from him, a hint of spice and the sweat from a long day's ride. Varric must've gotten that missive to him rather quickly.
"How fares Starkhaven?" She spoke softly, anything to fill the tense void between them.
"It… Will fare well once I am there permanently. I see my opening, it's just now figuring out the right moment to seize it."
Nodding she finally turned to look at him. He was leaning against the doorway looking down at the floor.
"You really can't come with me…" It wasn't really a question. The way he said it was more along the lines of accepting it.
"Do you regret it?" She finally whispered.
"Never." He said quickly, "not even for a second, Noa." He moved towards her, brushing her hair out of her face. "You… Taught me it was okay to love. That making love is not a sin when it's with someone you truly love. Elthina threw out my vows as soon as I was intent upon revenge… I didn't realize that I was hiding behind them, afraid that if I made love to you that I'd become the boy I once was."
"You are not that boy, Sebastian." She slid her hand up his chest, over the fur that connected to his hood. "It seems as though I'm not that wild girl I used to be either. You taught me it was possible to love at all… I'd given up on it."
"Aye, so did I." He gathered her in his arms and she wrapped her own arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. We knew this was coming."
A pain tugged at her heart, a pain worse than her nearly fatal wounds against the Arishok. "It doesn't make it easier." She breathed burying her face into his neck.
"Noa, I—" But she silenced him with her lips, desperation getting the better of her, and he kissed her back with the same need. His hands were at her tunic beginning to tug it up, grazing his calloused fingers up along her skin which puckered at the contact. She shivered, the good kind, the one he was able to elicit from her strong body, and her back pressed into the countertop as he leaned into her.
They began to make their way towards the stairwell, stopping to hungrily kiss the other as one's back crashed into a wall. She didn't want to part from him, and neither did he, which made getting up the stairs quite difficult. But they managed, crashing into her door and nearly tumbling to the floor.
She pulled his jacket off, then his undershirt, and ran her fingers over the muscles of his bare shoulders. "Sebastian," She breathed as he kissed down her chin, her neck, down to her chest before they heaved themselves down onto her bed. If this was to be their last night, they'd make it a night to remember.
He ran his hands up her arms as she arched her back and he snaked his fingers around to undo her breast band. She sighed as his rough fingers grazed upon her smooth and scarred flesh. The scar at her side rough and jagged was her first mark on this journey, a few more light marks peppered her flesh and the glaring one right in the middle of her chest from when the Arishok sunk his sword straight through her as she had gotten in close for a killing blow to his throat. His lips kissed feather light over that scar, his hand moving up over the tattoos of her family's names on her ribs under her arm. He liked finding her marks, any of them, liked paying attention to the details of her skin.
His lips met the rosy peak of her breast and she softly let out a breath running her fingers through his hair and he looked up at her. He could see the sadness in those icy grey hues and for a moment they stared at each other until he met her lips with his. They rolled over and she straddled his hips, slowly untying the laces to his trousers.
She stopped and he pulled her hands, lacing his fingers with hers as he tugged her flush against his chest. Their lips met once more, a tangled kiss that both wished could last longer than this night. She felt his hands leave hers and travel down her shoulder blades to the curve in her back, his fingers finding the scar to the side of her spine. His calloused fingers felt good on her skin and she sighed into his mouth.
He rolled them over and began to kiss down her stomach, fingers catching the band of her leggings as he pulled that along with her undergarment down her long legs. He'd gotten them off, and stopped, and she opened her eyes to see him gazing upon her. They both knew this would be the last night.
Her breath hitched in her throat, swallowing hard as she looked away from him. She quickly sat up, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to her. She kissed him, kissed him so long it left her breathless and aching. She was shaking, and she didn't realize until his trembling fingers touched her face, thumb sliding along the scar on her cheek that he was shaking too. He wrapped his strong arms around her body, his face buried in her neck, smelling her hair, as she clutched him tightly as well.
He was whispering things in his native Starkhaven tongue, his warm breath fluttering along her ear. Heat began to surge through her at his words, not knowing them all, but catching the few she knew meant 'love' or 'treasure' and 'miss you.' She caught a new one, and he whispered the translation right after. "I will always love you, lass." He whispered, and she felt the tiny pieces that hadn't already been broken shatter within her.
It was miserable, this feeling, but they'd already spoken about it before the conflict. When he'd decided he had to go back to Starkhaven. They both knew they had begun to grow apart, they'd gotten older, knew that what they once thought would last forever had finally reached its limit. But despite it hurting so much, they both knew this was the right thing to do. It was right to part from each other, because he had a duty to fulfill, and they both knew she wouldn't fit into that life.
They knew it was far better to part now than to resent each other later for it. She knew the baggage her name carried, and it wouldn't serve Sebastian's cause to have her with him. He had weakly tried to reason with her that it wouldn't matter. But she could see the look in his eyes that told her he knew that wasn't the only valid point she'd brought up. She would never be a princess to his prince. She would never be happy. And he never wanted to stifle her happiness when she'd lost so much already. She had to find her own path; he knew the path didn't include him any longer.
"Sebastian," She breathed, tugging at his pants, pushing them down his waist. He groaned at the friction it caused, and he gasped when her hand slid over his length. He kissed her back hungrily, gasping when her hand continued to stroke him, getting him harder with each pass. He pulled away from her grasp, stepping onto the floor to take his pants the rest of the way off.
"Bass," She grabbed his hand as he kneeled back onto the bed in front of her. "I'll always love you too," she whispered quietly into the night and he smiled against her lips as he eased her back onto the bed. She opened her legs for him, fully expecting them to get right to it, but he eased his finger between her folds and she sucked in a breath as he nipped at her neck. He was slow, deliberate, sliding his finger into her slick only to lightly caress her aching bud. "Bass," She groaned, impatiently rising her hips against his hand.
"In due time, love," His voice was strained as he held back. He marveled at his control when she was so ready beneath him. He slid a long digit into her heat, slipping another in, slowly sliding them in and out. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, show her how much he would miss her in these precious few moments they had left. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders; her breath was warm against his neck as he kissed at her quickening pulse beside her throat.
Her hips were moving faster against his, he knew she was getting closer with each passing stroke. He curled his fingers inside her and she let out the moan he was looking for, feeling her clenching his fingers as she tensed beneath him. He kissed her breathy sighs from her lips, stroking her a little longer before he settled in to just simply kiss her. He would never forget what it was like to taste the ale from her mouth, bittersweet, but it was her nonetheless.
He felt her leg wrap around his waist, his cock sliding across her opening and he sucked in a breath, lightly sucking on her lower lip. He moved his hips, grabbing his cock to slide the tip over her entrance. She was beginning to moan again, and he couldn't take the torture much longer, letting himself ease into her wet heat.
Her warmth surrounded him, and for a moment, he lost himself when he hilted himself inside of her. His shoulders were tense, and a soft whimper of need escaped her throat and brought him back to this blissful moment. He felt her shoulder knock into his as she rolled them over, giving him a mischievous kiss before she straightened her back and lifted her hips, easing them back down, and repeating the slow process.
It was a meddling of slow and fast, to a buildup that almost got them there and then a tense moment to slow everything down again. It was perfect, he could barely catch his breath as he watched her move over top of him, up and down, in and out. He sat up with her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her throat as she threw her head back. He ran his fingers through her long hair, the choppy length which had grown since the day he'd met her.
He moved his hips with hers, their pace beginning to grow frenetic as they raced for that peak; one they didn't want to hit just yet, but wanted to crash over it all the same. "Hawke," He strained, and as much as she loved to hear her first name from his lips, it was all the more special when he uttered her last name in that lovely tense way he did when they made love. He wedged his hand between them, pushing her back just slightly so he could slide his finger down to her clit, knowing he was mere moments from losing it. She cried into his mouth, not able to hold back her moans as well as he, and she began to clench around him causing him to let loose; both of them holding tightly onto the other as he fell back into the bed.
"We're a mess," She finally panted, chuckling and he did the same.
"We've always been a mess," he rolled them onto their sides, stroking her ample rear as she slowly rocked her hips to feed them that last bit of pleasure. He brushed her hair from her face, cupping her cheek as he stroked his thumb over the bone. He loved her eyes, loved the dreamy look she had after they made love.
They fell asleep in each other's arms; letting themselves soak up the last bit of comfort they could share by being together. Morning came and they did again, before they'd finally gotten dressed and prepared for the day.
"I wish I could go with you, Noa." He said sadly, strapping on his armor.
"I wish I could go with you too, Bass," She cupped his cheek in her hand, softly stroking that high cheekbone of his as she placed her lips back to his. "We know—"
"It's for the best," he finished for her, repeating what they tried to believe. "Maybe someday we'll find each other again."
She smiled sadly at that sentiment. "Maybe we will. Good luck, Sebastian."
"Aye… May you finally find your peace, love." He kissed her forehead, over the small scar at her hairline. He felt something wet touch his other hand that was at her cheek. One single tear. He'd never seen her cry.
"Thank you… Thank you so much for loving me, Bass." One last kiss, that was it, before she broke away from their embrace to leave the foyer, out into Hightown, and out of his life for good.
I would love to turn this into more, but it wouldn't be Sebastian and Hawke, it'd probably be Hawke and an OC of mine. Hope it was enjoyable though :D