"Hawke?"
Isabela waved her hands in front of the other woman's face startling her when the view of the door was broken. "Wha-?"
"It's your turn," the pirate said slowly. When Hawke shot a quick glance back at the door before looking at her cards, she smiled. "Alright, spill: Who is it?"
Hawke blinked. "Who is what?"
"You've been staring at that door since we began the game. You're waiting for someone – who is it?"
Hawke felt a flush give her away but she wasn't making it easy for her friend. "I'm not expecting a suitor, if that's what you're thinking."
"But you are expecting someone," Fenris said and laid his hand down to give Hawke his undivided attention.
She leaned forward conspiratorially and they copied her before she whispered. "Ever since Meredith discovered that I'm a mage, she's been sending someone to check up on me every night. She can't have me arrested, me being the Champion and all but she's not about to leave me unsupervised. After I lost control last night, I'm not as upset about it as I was before."
Fenris merely nodded thoughtfully as if this was normal but Varric grimaced.
"Life under the ever watchful eye of the Templars, ouch."
Isabela smiled dirtily. "Oh I don't know… the Templars like their boys big and muscled. And every girl likes a man in uniform. I'm not sure I see a downside."
"Isabela," Aris groaned into her arms on the table.
"Well, what am I supposed to think? You sure seem excited to see this knight of yours, Hawke."
"You're imagining things."
"You do get this soft smile when you lose your concentration every time you look at that door," Varric declared.
"I do not!"
"I've seen it," Fenris countered.
Hawke eyed her friends incredulously. They'd betrayed her! The sorry louts! "Look, Cullen saved my life; I'm allowed to be appreciative of that."
"Knight Captain Cullen?" Varric asked, easing from his seat at the table.
"No," Isabela crooned. "It's just Cullen; plain and simple Cullen."
"Izzy!"
"Now, now my dear sorceress," Varric cajoled. "We're all just worried about you now that the Her Templar Highness knows your secret." He drifted further away from the table. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to collect our stew."
Isabela slid into Varric's empty seat across from Hawke and set her eyes on her in That way she had. "So… what's it like?"
Aris gave her a dumbfounded shake of her head.
"Being smited! Or smote or however it's said."
"Izzy!" Hawke wanted to hide in her arms and never emerge.
The pirate was undeterred. "I did say everyone could use a good smiting now and then," she winked.
Hawke sighed.
"That was your first time, right? So some on, out with it, Hawke – I want details."
"About what?" Merrill said, slipping into a chair. "Hello everyone."
Fenris growled low in his throat but Merrill ignored him.
"Hawke was Smote by the Knight Captain last night," Isabela purred.
The Dalish elf giggled. "You and your funny names for sex. I think you must have fifty of them by now."
"Fifty-three," Varric corrected as he returned with a tray crowded with bowls of stew. "And for once, Rivaini here wasn't talking about the Horizontal Mambo."
Merrill gasped and looked in shock at Hawke. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you did he?"
Aris smiled at the petite woman. "I think my pride is a little bruised but I'll live."
Varric wrestled the tray onto the end of their table and began passing steaming bowls down the line.
"Why did he have to smite you Hawke?" Merrill's eyes were wide, making them look even larger.
Hawke sighed. "Oh well, you know… I was a bit –"
"Drunk," Isabela cut in.
"And I thought it might be a fun idea to conjure spells for him to nullify but I guess I over estimated myself thanks to the –"
"Alcohol," Isabela tried again.
Hawke continued to ignore her. "The spell went wrong and Cullen had to shut it down to save me."
"Ooooh! Lucky he was there," Merrill declared with round-eyed seriousness. Fenris blinked and then gaped at her as if she'd sprouted horns.
"He checks on her every night," Isabela added saucily.
"That's so nice of him," Merrill told her with a smile. "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to fight a templar…"
"See?" Isabela smiled. "I'm not the only one who wants to know!"
Merrill smiled at her. "I can't imagine it feels all that pleasant but Maybe Carver would be willing to show me."
Varric and Hawke both choked on their stew.
"I'm sure he would, kitten," Isabela cooed.
The elf smiled happily. "He's always so nice to me."
"Templars are not supposed to fraternize with mages," Fenris said flatly. "It's against the Order's edicts."
Isabela rolled her eyes. "I'm not suggesting Hawke 'fraternize' with him; I'm suggesting she take him by that…luxurious head of hair he's got, drag him into her room and shag him silly."
Hawke groaned and hid in her arms again and then decided a large mouthful of wine was a better way to cope with her friend's teasing.
"If that's not worth getting arrested for, I don't know what is," Isabela asserted.
"He does have nice hair," Merrill said. Hawke raised her head to stare at her, making her turn pink. "Well he does!"
Sensing their friend's discomfort Varric added, "It's almost inhuman how shiny it is. Must be the lyrium…"
"Like spun golden thread…" Isabela continued.
Fenris coughed and Hawke could see that he was trying not to smile at them. He tipped more wine into her glass and she hid behind the goblet as the table slipped into a familiar routine. A routine whose sole purpose was to make her as uncomfortable as possible.
"Do you suppose it's soft?" Merrill asked.
"Like silk…" Isabela purred. "Like spun, golden silk thread…"
Hawke swallowed more wine. "Springy," she said abruptly, setting her glass on the table, finally warming to the – so far – innocuous topic of Cullen's hair.
Everyone looked at her. "He has all those curls. It's probably springy."
"Ooh! Soft and springy!" Isabela announced. "Now I bet that would feel amazing on the sensitive skin of –"
"Don't say it!" Hawke held up a hand. So much for innocuous…
"Oh you poor sweet thing! I bet you've wanted to touch his hair Hawke, those cute little curls wrapping around your fingers..."
Aris glared but her ever-reddening face told the truth. She took another gulp of her wine and everyone stared at her, smiling smugly until she cracked. "Alright fine! I may have… wondered from time to time… what Cullen's hair feels like."
The whole table roared in laughter.
"Well," said Varric, "You could just ask him if you could touch it."
Aris shot him a dirty scowl. "Oh yes, I'm sure the Knight Captain would appreciate me objectifying his hair."
"It's not something I can arrest you for Hawke, if that's what you're worried about," Cullen's voice appeared from behind her.
Aris froze, eyes wide as saucers. Varric chortled as she slowly turned in her seat, gaze zeroing in guiltily on the hair they were just discussing but then she forced herself to look him in the eyes. "Cullen… I mean Knight Captain, Knight Captain Cullen, hi. Won't you join us?" She gestured at the table, doing anything not to have to look him in the eyes any longer.
He couldn't help the small smile at her obvious embarrassment. "Hello." He took pity on Hawke and came round to the empty seat to her right.
So," Varric began conversationally. "Hawke says you've become her part time handler since Meredith discovered her other talents."
"I didn't say handler Varric," Aris countered.
"That would be a technically accurate term for it, I suppose," Cullen said slowly, clearly suspicious of the way the dwarf said 'handler'. "Meredith has tasked me with keeping an eye on Hawke as much as my duties allow."
"But it's only been a week since Meredith assigned you as Hawke's handler and already you've found a reason to smite her? Tsk, tsk, tsk…"
Cullen flushed at the suggestive tone. "It was warranted."
"I'd like to hear all about it. What do you say we all relocate to my suite for drinks and a story?"
Cullen blushed, trying to stammer out a reason why he couldn't stay but the others were already getting up. He considered the merits of simply running away but he glance at the group as they took to the stairs and Hawke turned back to smile at him and the notion fled his mind. She resumed her journey up to the raised floor and he gulped as he watched her hips sway.
"Need some liquid courage first? You look parched." Varric was standing there, looking expectantly at him.
Cullen nodded and followed the man to the bar.
"What'll you have? First one's on me," the dwarf informed him.
"That's rather generous of you," Cullen said slowly, feeling his stutter trying to emerge. He perused the shelves behind Corff before spotting the perfect spirit and smiled.
Fenris grabbed the door and held it open when he saw the others coming to the room, burdened with trays full of mugs and glasses. Hawke eyed Cullen suspiciously when she saw the glass in Cullen's hand. he could say anything, Varric was closing his door.
"Well now that we're all here and settled," he said, getting into his chair at the head of the table, gesturing for Cullen to sit in the empty chair to his right, directly across from Hawke. "How about you regale us with your version of last night's events, ser templar?"
There's not much to tell," Aris put in. "I told you what happened: I drank a little too much. I cast a spell I couldn't control and Cullen put it out. End of story."
Varric turned from her to Cullen and the taller man smirked. "You see why I asked for your side of the story?"
Cullen looked at Aris, wondering if he dared. After another sip of from his glass of Riverberry wine, he decided he did. "That's all factual but… she left out the important part."
Cullen dragged in a breath before dropping the heavy brass knocker on Hawke estate three times. It was an odd lumpy round shape in his hand and when he looked at it, he saw that it was the head of a mabari. How appropriate…
Hawke had a warhound named Kronos and the Hightown nobles had been complaining about him ever since she moved back into her family home. When she defeated the Arishok, two things had changed: One, she now had the title of Champion. Two, Meredith discovered she was, indeed, a mage. She'd had her suspicions before but nothing solid. Her duel with the Qunari leader seemed to go strangely in her favor for one so much smaller than the horned giant and Cullen knew she had to be using spells to aid her but it was the killing blow that had given her away. They'd broken through the throne room door just in time to see her magic in action and the Qunari leader's demise.
Cullen had prepared to be accused of being complicit in hiding Hawke's nature but thanks to her quick explanation, the charges never came. He felt it was wrong to cover up his involvement but she'd convinced him it was senseless to get himself in trouble. It wouldn't do anything to Meredith's opinion of her and she hadn't wanted to see him reprimanded for it. Hawke was very convincing. Meredith couldn't have her arrested now that she'd saved Kirkwall but she insisted that Hawke be watched carefully so he was sent every evening to check on her.
The sound of thick wood creaking brought his mind back to the present just in time to see a bleary-eyed Hawke answer the door. She clutched a wine bottle by the neck in her right hand and her hair was mussed. She wore rumpled bed clothes, covered by a house robe. No enchantments, I see…
"You're late," she groused. Her eyes were dull and her face a little splotchy. Suddenly he knew there was no need to worry about Hawke doing evil mage things tonight.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." He turned to leave but her derisive snort stopped him.
"Sssure you did. It's what you do," she slurred. "Every night Meredith sends her obedient little soldier to make sure I'm still being a good little mage."
He whirled around to her, hackles soaring. "And are you?"
Unexpectedly, she smiled. It was insipid and her eyes were too shiny. "Of course, ser." She shoved the wine bottle against him and he had to grip it to keep it from being smashed on her doorstep. He noted that it was half empty.
"If you simply must know what I've been up to the past couple of hours…" She twirled away back into her estate, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Please come in, have a seat by the fire and I'll tell you about my every waking moment."
He had to step into the light of the foyer to read the bottle and startled when the label read 'Riverberry Vintage'. "This is from Ferelden," he said slowly. "It's expensive and more so to ship… Where'd you get it?"
"It was a gift!" She all but shrieked with a wild fling of her hands.
Cullen goggled at her. This was not the cool, collected mage he knew, the one who defeated the biggest Qunari Kirkwall had ever seen.
"Aveline brought it to me this afternoon. And this," she rushed into the main hall to her desk and held up another wine bottle, "is from Fenris." She took a swig from it before setting it back down and grabbing a smaller green bottle. "And this one is from Merrill…" she drank from it too. "Isn't the color beautiful?" she cooed as she lifted a fat, squat decanter the color of sunset. "Varric sent me this one." Again she swilled the spirits from the bottle like she had the others as Cullen watched in horror.
"Ooh! Isabela sent me a gift too and since she really owes me…"
Hawke went to a little cabinet and opened the door. Inside was an array of the finest Orlesian, Antivan and Rivaini liquors.
"Do you suppose my friends are trying to tell me something?" She was looking at him, suddenly seeming far more sober than he knew it was possible for her to be.
But then she grinned stupidly at him again and reached for a little white, round bottle; pulling on its stopper. He was across the room in three strides, grabbing the vessel from her before she could tip it back and the fury in her eyes nearly made him jump back. He stood his ground though.
"I think you've had enough."
Aris laughed, the sound musical and tinkling but the bitter edge to it made it ugly. "Oh no, not nearly enough."
It was then that he noted the remains of a bottle identical to the Riverberry wine, lying in shards in the far corner of the room by the kitchen entrance.
"How many did Aveline bring you?"
Hawke hid behind a hand and held up three fingers, wiggling them at him. "One was intended for me… one for Carver and… It was Mother's favorite."
Suddenly Hawke's interest in drowning herself made sense. Leandra had been gone only a few days before the Qunari attacked. He'd forgotten – all of Kirkwall had forgotten – that their Champion had much to mourn.
"Blighted Quentin," he heard her curse. "If I knew necromancy, I swear I'd resurrect him just so I could kill him again!"
Cullen scowled. "That would make you no better than him, Aris."
She rounded on him. "I know that! It's why I'm not like him! I'll never be like him! And YOU come around here every day to spy on me like I'm some… criminal!"
"I have my orders – I can't disobey them even when I disagree."
That stopped her rant. She stood still as a statue, blinking at him.
Cullen dragged in a weary breath. What he said was true but he hadn't intended for her to know that. "I don't think you're evil, plotting everyone's doom. I just think that in this state, you have no control. You need to sleep this off and –"
"No control?" Aris swiped the wine bottle back and danced out of his reach and took another large swallow. "How could anyone think I'd do something that foul after what happened to my mother? That I could be like that monster?" After taking another swig, she tossed the remainder into the fireplace and it exploded in a spectacular shower of glass and flames.
Cullen jumped. "Maker Hawke!"
"Oops…" She giggled.
Again he found himself gaping at her like a dying fish. She was mad. There was no other word for it.
Some of the sparks had lit her rug and it was beginning to burn. "I'll take care of that." She waved her hands and cold wind blew over the wayward fire, snuffing it but Cullen had jumped into a ready stance at the first shift in the air and smote the mini blizzard.
Hawke giggled as the spell dissipated. "How funny. Let's do that again!" And before he fully grasped what she said, snow began falling on him.
"Hawke," he growled and cleansed the room.
She ran into the foyer, past the perimeter or the Cleanse and began casting something bigger. And hotter.
"Hawke…" Cullen warned again.
She grinned maniacally at him and lightning began to flicker into existence around her. He frowned, beginning another Cleanse. As soon as the spell was stopped, he threw a Smite at Hawke who staggered onto one knee. Stalking over to her, he pointed his sword at her throat as she looked up.
"Don't make me drain you."
She nodded mutely, fear flickering through her features at his thunderous expression. She felt shivers set in as her mana struggled to regain its equilibrium. Her stomach heaved and the shivers grew until she was quaking. Cold sweat broke out all over skin her skin and her stomach lurched again, returning some of the wine she'd consumed on his feet.
Cullen couldn't spare a thought for his boots, however as Hawke's skin color paled. He knelt before, trying to get her to focus on him. "You have to calm yourself, Aris. If you don't, a demon can possess you outright without needing to strike a deal."
But she couldn't hear him over the roar in her ears.
Aris felt like her bones would shatter, she was shaking so hard. She felt like she was freezing inside and out. Dimly, she heard Cullen but her mind refused to focus on what he said. Her vision went blurry and then reddish in color and she heard a faint moan of pleasure come from somewhere.
The change in Hawke's voice sent Cullen into a panic and he cursed when her skin took on a purplish hue. He jumped back from the mage just before raw mana pulsed from her and it was all he could do to push back with basic templar will. It stopped the mana but Hawke was still an unhealthy color so he flung a Smite at her again, wincing when she cried out in pain from having it repeated in so short a time. Her voice was her own then, he realized. The demon didn't have her yet. He spun his sword, chanted the words and slipped the tip of his blade into the skin of her shoulder and pulled on her mana as hard as he dared and more than was wise.
Hawke screamed, her body going rigid, sweat breaking out over her skin and every muscle clenching hard. It felt like the cold was being torn from her veins by the toes. A heavy and hard sensation fell over her mind and her vision cleared just before the stone floor rose up to meet her head.
The purple was gone and her eyes were blue once more. Cullen let himself finally breathe. He'd shut down her mana in time. The demon didn't make it through. But Hawke was far from safe. The demon, a desire demon if he had to guess, had come close to possessing the Champion right before his eyes. It would try again as soon as Hawke's mana began to return and he doubted she could fight it off right now. Her self-destructive behavior had proven that.
Finally he decided that he would just have to keep an eye on her all night to make sure that didn't happen but he was expected back at the Gallows with a report on her condition. He grimaced to think of what Meredith would say about what had just transpired.
"Is it over?" Bodahn's soft voice startled him and he turned to see the dwarf standing in the doorway. "Is milady alright?"
"I'm afraid not, ser. She's had too much to drink." Cullen looked upon Aris again and squatted to slide her into his arms and lift her from the stones of her foyer.
"I'm going to take her to one of our healers in the Circle. She'll stay there tonight."
Bodahn's mouth flattened into a thin, worried line but he nodded. "We'll clean up here and bring some of her things in the morning."
"Thank you," Cullen said and shifted his burden. Hawke was undisturbed by the movement, sleeping like the dead in his grasp.
Bodahn let him out and bid him to take care of his mistress, watching the templar cart off Kirkwall's most important person.
...oOo.
Her skin was pale in the moonlight and she seemed to be almost peaceful as he walked. Her weight was warm and lax in his arms, heat seeping through his armor and her dark hair reflected the night in a blue color. If he wasn't so worried, he'd have stopped to marvel at her. He so rarely saw her unguarded or not misdirecting people from her inner most thoughts. Urgency spurred him into a faster gait, however, but he wasn't sure why he was so anxious. Once on the ferry, he half set her down to examine her condition and alarm swept through him. She was hardly breathing and her heartbeat was fluttering softly, almost undetectable where he pressed his fingers to her neck.
"Is the Champion alright?" the ferryman asked.
Cullen shook his head. "I need you make all haste."
The dingy old man wasted no time on talk and doubled his efforts to reach the Gallows. As the island neared, the man began a series of flashes with his lantern that were echoed from the dock and shouts could be heard in the distance.
Cullen saw Orsino appear with a complement of knights and was just beginning to breathe easier when Aris went stiff and started shaking. He looked on in horror as her eyes flew open, unseeing as she gasped as if needing air but her gaze had an unearthly blue glow.
He barely registered the ferry docking before the First Enchanter was there, grim and assessing and they were surrounded by a circle of knights. He leaned back to give the healer room to work and the elf shot him a glare a moment later.
"Was it necessary to drain her that much?"
It felt like a fist to the stomach and Cullen floundered for words but Orsino wasn't waiting for an answer, instead reaching for a lyrium vial and pouring through Hawke's parted lips.
"She was extremely intoxicated…" Cullen managed to say.
Orsino cursed. "So I see," he replied. "Several of her organs are shutting down and I don't know if it's the alcohol or your heavy handedness."
"I had to. I had warned her and still she cast magic in front of me," he hissed for the other man's ears only. "I was worried she'd lose control because in her condition."
Hawke abruptly went absolutely still and Orsino panicked. "Oh no you don't Champion." The mage brought electricity to his hands and loosed a ball of at Hawke and she convulsed. He checked for her heartbeat and then repeated the process. Another check and Orsino zapped her a third time, finally satisfied when he felt for signs of life.
The First Enchanter gestured for the knights to lift Hawke and the group marched solemnly into the Gallows.
"I hope you see what needlessly abusing mages can lead to, Knight Captain," Orsino growled. He was taking a chance he didn't often take but he had to make at least one templar understand. "I'm sure tearing their mana out is great fun and you don't have to answer for it because you can simply claim it was to stop the mage from casting… But you almost cost the Champion her life."
Cullen gaped miserably for a moment. "It wasn't… wh-what I intended."
Orsino took pity on him. "I know… but it did happen, all the same. You can do better. You can be better than Meredith. Learn from your mistakes before it's too late."
...oOo.
Cullen watched Hawke struggle to consciousness, groaning as what surely had to be a headache settled behind her eyes and gave a full body shiver. She had just managed to crack an eye open when he spoke from the shadows.
"Good morning, Aris."
Hawke jerked in surprise, eyes going wide and then shut as she groaned at the pain in her head the movement caused. "You are a sadistic man, Cullen," she whispered.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he murmured, though a faint smile played about his lips to belie that statement.
"Where am I?" Though she suspected she knew the answer to that.
"In the Gallows." He wandered away from the corner he'd been leaning against and took the seat by her bed. "I brought you here to see a healer when it became clear that you were dangerously intoxicated."
She frowned. "The last thing I remember was answering the door and you coming into my house…" She groaned. "I remember getting cross with you."
"You accused me of treating you like a criminal," he informed her lightly.
She groaned again and scrunched down into the covers. "Did I really throw a wine bottle at you?"
Cullen looked warily at her. "At the fireplace actually…"
"Oh good."
"Wait. You were aiming for me?"
She smiled under the blanket and muttered a muffled "Oops…"
He goggled at her. Apparently she didn't need to be insanely inebriated to surprise him. "Andraste's mercy, you're a horrible drunk!"
Hawke winced at his louder tone and he smiled smugly. "You brought this upon yourself, you know. Drinking like that and tossing spells at me, almost turning into an abomination – you deserve every second of this."
Hawke bolted upright and shrieked, "I WHAT?"
He instantly regretted his choice of words as Aris went green in the face and her stomach turned inside out. Cullen snatched up the nearby pail and held her hair out of her way while she retched. When she resurfaced, she was red from embarrassment.
He wasn't laughing or smiling anymore, however as guilt stole over him.
"You nearly died, Hawke," he said suddenly. "First when I thought I'd have to kill you because a demon had taken you and second when you began shaking and not breathing properly. Orsino said you were moments from death when I brought you to him."
"I don't remember a demon," Hawke said quietly. She did remember wanting everything to just stop at one point.
Finally remembering to set the pail down with a disgusted grimace, Cullen settled back in the chair and retold the night's events. By the time he was done, Hawke was ashen.
"I'm… so sorry I ruined your boots. I can replace them."
Anger welled up inside of him. He wanted her to take this seriously! He wanted to shake some sense into her. He opened his mouth to berate her but the spooked look in her eyes held his tongue.
She wasn't really looking at him anymore but at a spot just past his right ear. "Aris?"
Suddenly she snapped. "How could that have happened? How could a demon take me without a deal? I'd remember brokering a deal! How –"
Cullen held up a hand to halt the flow of words. "You were very distraught. It seemed to have something to do with your mother. As close to killing yourself as you were, a demon sensed an opportunity to try and possess you forcefully. The magic you had been casting just moments before only beckoned to them that much more."
"You had to Drain me…" Hawke concluded, staring down at the blanket.
Cullen nodded.
She raised her arms looking for the wound. "Where?"
Gingerly, he touched the bandage on the hollow of her shoulder just above her collarbone. Usually Drain wounds could be healed within a couple of hours of their creation, once the templar energy subsided but he'd pulled so hard and so much from her that the wound refused to respond to magic.
"Orsino couldn't heal it and it'll probably scar. I'm sorry."
Hawke fingered the cloth lightly, pressing on it with a sort of strange awe.
"I think I'm the one who should apologize."
He nodded. "Then we're even. After you replace my boots, of course."
She gave him a Look. "I have many more wine bottles I can toss at you, ser," she threatened.
A knock at the door stopped him from coming up with a witty rejoinder.
"Enter," Hawke called out. The door opened, admitting Meredith and Orsino, filling up what was left of the little room.
"Orsino tells me you'll make a full recovery," Meredith said.
"Don't be too disappointed," Hawke quipped.
The Knight Commander frowned and eyed Hawke's bandage peeking out of her bed gown's wide neck. "I'm disappointed that you were using magic without cause in my city, Champion! Save it for the brawls you get yourself into. In fact, I suggest you avoid consuming alcohol entirely if it has a tendency to inspire you flick magic around Hightown at your whim."
Hawke rolled her eyes. "I don't flick."
The older woman crossed her arms over her chest and Cullen knew she was losing patience. "This is your final warning, mage. If you use magic, without cause in my city; I will know. I took the liberty of making a phylactery for you just to make sure you don't violate this edict again."
Cullen was as surprised as Hawke. "You have no right –" she started.
"You're a mage in my city! I have every right."
"Hawke," Cullen said gently in warning when he saw her fists curl.
"Think of it this way," Meredith continued. "Whenever there is rogue magic being cast, I have a way of knowing for a fact whether or not it was you rather than assuming it was. It's not as if you have a need to cast spells in Kirkwall."
"You'd be surprised how many thugs wander the streets at night," Hawke groused.
"That is not my problem. Good day, Champion."
As soon as she was gone, Hawke blew out a string of curses that made Orsino blush. He checked her over one last time but paused when he reached the bandage.
"Would you like me to try again?"
It took her a moment to realize he was asking if she wanted it healed. She shook her head. "No, leave it."
Cullen's eyebrows went up at that but he didn't say anything. Once Orsino was satisfied, he left but not before shooting Cullen a meaningful glare.
"Well, it's time to get you out of here." He pointed at a neatly folded pile of fresh clothes. "Bodahn brought these for you. I'll wait outside the door in case you need anything."
Leaving Hawke to dress, he pondered what had happened. He'd left all mention of the demon out of his report, fearing that Meredith would see it as reason enough to lock Aris away. Though he knew it was the safest thing to do, he was reluctant to cage the Champion like that. So he'd kept quiet, adding the secret to his growing inventory.
Hawke could prove to Meredith one day that mages may be allowed greater freedom if they were kept at a close distance. He didn't want to ruin that, especially when he felt responsible for upsetting Hawke to the point of breaking in the first place. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
He put his thoughts aside as the door creaked and Hawke shuffled out. They made their way through the Gallows, being watched by the knights and gawked at by the mages. Realistically, Cullen knew they had no idea that the Champion was a mage but he still couldn't help waiting for a knight to shout for her arrest or a mage to scream how unfair it was that she was free to go. None of that happened, though and they made it to Hightown without incident.
Cullen saw her rub her shoulder for the third time when they passed through the market. "Are you certain you don't want Orsino to heal that? It may respond to magic now."
Aris blushed. "This may sound silly, but I don't have a single battle scar. After all I've been through, I still have nothing to show for it. Most of the time, when I do sustain injures, they're too life threatening to allow them to heal on their own. Sometimes my life feels like an illusion and…"
"You want proof of your deeds, of the things you've survived," he said with sudden insight.
Hawke stared at him for a few moments and then nodded. They were nearing her estate so Cullen moved onto another topic.
"Meredith has mandated more patrols around your home. Each day now, I'm to see that you're alright."
"As if the phylactery wasn't enough…" she mumbled.
Cullen chuckled, his armor clinking from it. He hadn't expected her to like that but her venomous response was endearing. "I know this isn't easy for you but it's not easy for her either. Allowing you to remain free contradicts every instinct, every fiber of her being. To be honest, it goes against my better judgment too."
"But you trust me?"
Cullen scowled at her. They'd stopped in front of her door and he was grateful for the privacy the shaded alcove afforded them. "I trust you, as a person, a friend but… as long as mages can be vulnerable to demons, there will always be a danger – a risk that one day Kirkwall will have to fight an abomination."
Hawke nodded in sad acceptance, holding her wound again and chewing on her lip.
"So, will you be knocking at my door the same time as always?" She spoke with forced brightness, trying to lighten the mood.
"Every evening."
"Well this evening, I'm going to be at the Hanged Man. You'll have to check up on me there."
...oOo.
Cullen felt unaccountably nervous as he made the familiar journey toward Hightown. Hawke said she'd be at the Tavern in Lowtown and the ferry could have taken him straight there but he decided to at least check on the estate first to see if she'd changed her mind. He told himself the walk to the seedier part of Kirkwall was good for him but when he saw Hawke's house completely dark and realized he would have to meet her at the Hanged Man, he knew he simply didn't want to be there.
As he walked, he considered his reluctance. It wasn't as if he had to worry about the patrons harassing him. He was templar, he could handle most threats and he would be among people who were, if not friends, at least friendly acquaintances. He didn't mind the establishment itself… much or seeing Aris but the idea of seeing her in a tavern at a prearranged time felt… odd. If it weren't for the circumstances of his visit, the meeting would appear more like courtship. But then, who knew of those circumstances? What Hawke was, wasn't common knowledge. Kirkwall could not learn of it.
They couldn't know why the Knight Captain seemed to be around the Champion so much. He stopped in his tracks.
"Blast!" His head swam with the sudden, uncomfortable notion. To check in on Aris at a public location would appear even more untoward. He suddenly understood his apprehension.
The noise of Lowtown grew louder as he passed through the wall that separated Hightown from Lowtown and he abandoned his thoughts in order to keep an eye out for bandits and other unsavory sorts who were looking for passersby to assault. He scrutinized every random drunk that stumbled past and steered wide of every alleyway opening. He kept his ears open and his eyes sharp but surprisingly, as he finally reached the tavern's door, no one accosted him.
He took a moment to stare at the door as if it could tell him what Hawke was up to without him needing to enter but the wood grain remained as inscrutable as ever. Gathering his courage, he pushed through the door and was assaulted by the smell of the Hanged Man. He scanned the room before making his way to the loudest table. Whatever they were discussing, it had Hawke scrunching into her seat.
A part of his mind noted that her hair was mostly down, cascading down her back in glossy black waves, save for the section from the sides that was pinned back by an elvhen clasp of some kind. He could just leave. He knew she was fine and wasn't doing Bad Things but when her voice carried over the din in annoyance at her pirate friend, he decided that he should stay and see if she was truly alright.
When he came closer to the table, he picked up on some rather strange comments about gold and silk. The white haired elf spotted him and coughed but said nothing about his presence.
A few moments after that, Varric saw him too. He didn't say anything to acknowledge the templar either and Cullen was beginning to feel rejected by the group when Hawke's next words stopped him in his tracks.
"Oh"Alright fine! I may have… wondered from time to time… what Cullen's hair feels like."
The all broke out in laughter and he imagined that Hawke was wishing she could hide.
"Well," said Varric, "You could just ask him if you could touch it."
They were discussing his hair. Maker above, they were drawing comparisons to gold thread and silk to his hair! Isabela was making innuendo about Hawke's fingers and his curly hair.
"Oh yes, I'm sure the Knight Captain would appreciate me objectifying his hair," Hawke said sourly at them.
He didn't know what possessed him to say it but the words were coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"It's not something I can arrest you for, Hawke, if that's what you're worried about."
Hawke turned to him then, Varric's laughter forgotten as she stared. The blush on her cheeks deepened and she stammered over his name and title. Suddenly he felt less conscious about being there and took the seat offered to him.
"Riverberry Vintage?" Hawke said, pointing at his cup.
Cullen felt his face heat. "It's my favorite too. Your mother had good taste."
Aris suddenly wanted to be anywhere but at a tavern and her expression sobered. "I think I'll call it a night," she said, rising.
They watched her go and when she was out of earshot, they all sent scowls at Cullen but he scowled back. "You're all just going to let her walk away? I thought you were her friends."
"We are," Fenris replied. "And we all know better than to bring up Leandra in Hawke's presence."
"Hey, it's not his fault he didn't get the memo," Varric soothed but it only served to remind the templar that he wasn't among friends.
"So you'll just leave her to her grief? None of you will go make sure she's alright?"
"She made it clear that, when it comes to her mother, she wants to be left alone," Isabela added. "We don't speak of her and we don't bother Hawke about it."
Cullen was appalled and memories of last night flashed warningly through his mind. "That's the last thing she needs," he growled and stood up from the table. He mumbled a quick 'Thanks for the wine' to Varric before storming from the tavern in search of Hawke.
...oOo.
He found her at the entrance to Hightown and hurried to match her stride. She stiffened when she heard him approach but didn't tell him to leave so he walked quietly beside her, waiting for her to speak. He kept glancing at her all through Hightown but she simply stared ahead. When Hawke estate came into view, she walked to the door and threw it open, leaving it gaping behind her. So he followed her in and closed the door, throwing the bolt into place.
He'd just entered the main hall to see her hauling a decanter off the table, eyeing him before knocking it back.
"Is this what you do every night?" he asked, taking slow steps forward.
Hawke shrugged. "I have to sleep somehow." She took another swallow, grimacing at the taste.
"Did you learn nothing from last night?" He took the bottle as she was lifting it for another mouthful. "You have to stop doing this, Aris. There are better ways to grieve."
Suddenly her features twisted. "How would you know? It's not like you ever had a mother and lost her," she sneered.
Cullen flinched but he didn't rise to the bait. "I still know what it's like to lose someone you care about. When Uldred attacked the circle in Ferelden, a lot of good people were killed, people I thought of as family."
Aris scoffed and whirled away. "Why are you here?"
He thought about that. He knew Hawke couldn't be left alone right now but he didn't know what she needed to feel better. But perhaps that was the point. "Why don't you tell me?"
Hawke's eyes went round. "I-I haven't been a-able to sleep… since mother passed." Tears began to well in her blue eyes and she turned to regard the Hawke family portrait above the fireplace. "I see her… every night in my dreams."
Cullen stiffened.
"She's there and she's alive," Hawke continued. "And all she wants is for me to hold her, once last time."
"A demon."
Hawke nodded, finally looking at him through liquid, shining eyes. "I know it's not her… I know it's not –" She shuddered and dragged in a breath, trying to regain her composure. "I don't drink to die. I drink so that I might wake up in the morning still myself."
"Because it hampers possession," he said with a nod of his head, "unless you use magic of course."
"I don't know what to do."
"I think I can help," he hedged.
Now that her secret was out, she thought he'd take her to the Gallows. When he drew his sword, she almost breathed a sigh of relief. But rather than point it at her and tell her to march, he began moving the blade in a complicated pattern.
"What are you doing?"
The weapon began to emanate a blue energy just before he stopped to regard her, waiting and asking without words for her trust. Aris studied him for a moment and then nodded. The sword came down lightly on her exposed arm, giving her the slightest of cuts and then, Cullen pulled.
Aris gasped, going rigid for a moment as her mana rushed out before sagging. Cullen kept her from hitting the floor this time and helped her into bed before she succumbed to the Fade. The delicate clip in her hair twinkled at him and he gently moved her head to extricate it from the soft tresses smoothing them out before stepping back to watch her.
He'd taken far less from her this time and there was still some risk of possession but after a few minutes he was sure she was reasonably safe. He set the clip down on her desk and stood before the window to begin his night long vigil and Hawke's dreams were undisturbed for the first time in weeks.
...oOo.
At some point during the night, Cullen's charge flung herself from the bed, panic on her face. Spying the chamber pot in the corner, she rushed to it just barely managing to reach it in time. He found himself, once again holding her hair back for her while she retched.
She mumbled her gratitude and crawled back into the covers.
Later, when the sun was just beginning to rise, Aris awoke to find Cullen asleep next to her bed in a high backed chair from her library. Breakfast was waiting on a tray for her with water and tea for her hangover. Smiling, she began to make her way toward the desk it was perched on but a soft light from the corner of her eye caught her attention. The ray of light shining between her heavy curtains fell on Cullen's curls, making them glow like treasure.
Isabela's words rushed back to her, "Like spun, golden silk thread…" Suddenly unable to help herself, she reached out but a mere breath from touching she paused, wondering if she'd lost her mind. Clouds shifted between the sun and her window and the bars of light danced slowly through the strands, revealing streaks of brown, a pale ash and red. The play of color was beautiful and Aris watched it for several moments before finally slipping her fingers into the curls.
Her breath hitched as the soft swirls pushed against her skin, slipping up and over her digits. It was like down and so very warm. Her other hand came up to join its mate and burrowed down, sending locks of reddish gold popping up out of formation. The skin of Cullen's scalp felt as warm as it looked and Aris dragged her nails lightly against the roots of his hair, delighting in the texture as they scrunched and rolled under her fingertips. The softness of the ends caressed her knuckles as she explored.
Hawke smiled. Cullen's hair was everything they said it was. It was soft – oh so soft – and it glowed in the light. It was silky smooth and so springy, it seemed to have a mind of its own, moving and curling around her fingers just like Isabela said it would.
A noise that was probably a groan but was better classified as a content animal's purr startled Aris and she pulled back as if burned. Her hands tingled everywhere and she clasped them together to still her nerves.
"I suppose this is better than finding your hound licking my hand in the morning," Cullen mumbled. He pried his eyes open and stared balefully at the streak of sunshine. "I have to go. The Knight Commander will be wondering where I've gone off to."
"She knows," Aris said, startling when Cullen was up and out of the chair, looking completely alert.
"How?"
His hair was at odd angles, sticking up from his head and Aris struggled not laugh. "Ser Thrask came by a little while ago. I told him why you were here… mostly. He checked on you to see for himself that you were alright and then left."
Cullen visibly relaxed. "What did you say to him?"
"That I asked you to remain because I was worried about the return of my mana attracting demons." It was the truth despite its omission.
"That was… rather clever Hawke," he said. Then he caught sight of his shadow and the wild mop his hair had become and tried to stare up at it.
"There's a mirror downstairs in the library," Hawke supplied, giggling to herself when Cullen all but ran to it.
By the time she reached the main hall, Cullen was almost as neat as he usually was and Bodahn shuffled over with a bundle of fresh sweet rolls with jam.
"For your journey, ser," the dwarf said magnanimously.
Cullen took the proffered bundle gratefully and dug a roll out. He hummed when he realized it was still warm and was barely able to squeeze out a goodbye around the confection as he bolted out of the door.
He didn't see Hawke's friends approaching the estate or their bug-eyed stares but they descended on Aris, babbling questions and innuendos at her as they filed into the house.
Isabela's voice managed to rise up from the din. "Tell me he was here all night because you took my advice and screwed his brains out."
"Nope," Hawke said smugly.
"Then why are you smiling like the proverbial cat?" Varric countered and was echoed by a nod from Fenris.
Aris smiled at her friends. "Because I know exactly what his hair feels like."
...oOo.
Two weeks later…
Aris arrived at her house to find Isabela waiting for her and arguing with Kronos and her desk was piled high with messages as usual. She smiled at them while she sat in the foyer, removing her armor and boots. It had been a long and profitable day and she was looking forward to a hot bath.
As if reading her mind, Isabela asked, "Do you think I need a bath?"
"If you reek of sex," Aris said, entering the main hall, "then yes."
The pirate drifted to the desk and began rifling through the day's missives, her amber eyes landing on one in particular. "For once I don't… Hawke? What's this?"
Aris looked at the envelope in her friend's hand and shrugged. The plain parchment bore the sigil of the Templars and nothing else. Taking it from Izzy, she broke the wax seal and lifted the top fold.
Hawke,
Today, it was my turn to see the barber and I remembered something and thought I'd send you a gift. I think… Just don't ever tell me what Isabela wants to do with it.
Knight Captain Cullen
In the bottom of the parcel was a single lock of reddish gold hair. Aris gaped at it, slowly lifting it out and running a finger over the smooth strands.
"He sent you one of his curls…" Isabela said breathlessly. "Oh how sweet! Can I feel it?" She made a grab for it but Hawke stepped out of reach, making her friend wheedle. "Oh come on, Hawke! Please?"
For some reason, Aris just couldn't do it and she twirled away again when Izzy dove for it. After another attempt, she tucked it under breast band.
"If you think I won't molest you to get it, you don't know me very well, Hawke!"
The other woman tutted, "You'll take any excuse to fondle anyone. What would Fenris say?"
"He'd cheer me on! He doesn't have a problem with me fondling you! Let me see it!"
Isabela tried again to grab her friend but Aris dashed to the front door and out into Hightown. "You have to catch me first!" The women giggled and the chase was on.