Chapter 2
That night at the campfire, Varric sat up waiting. He'd not been able to sleep, his thoughts busy with his friend. Everything should have been fine, unless something had happened to push her out. It shouldn't have. The hiding spot was perfect, or it should have been.
"Master Tethras, you will do your friend no good by staying up all night." Solas said, looking up from his drawing. "Perhaps it would help to talk about your friend."
"You're asking a story teller to talk, Chuckles. Are you aware of how dangerous that is?" Varric asked, slightly amused. "What are you working on over there, anyway?"
"The Herald may not have any artistic ability, but I do. I've been working on recreating some of the things I saw of her. She is…fascinating, this Flint of yours." Solas admitted.
"Mind if I take a look at them?" Varric asked, curious.
Solas handed over a latched folder, and went back to work on the drawing he had. Varric couldn't help but wonder if he and the Herald had witnessed things that had really happened to her after he'd left. In Solas's drawings, he saw the place that she'd hidden in, and the reason why she'd had to run. Tevinter mages? She'd already had to run from Seekers, Templars, bandits, and rogue mages.
Why wasn't she using her magic? It couldn't be to hide. As she once said, her magic could practically light up the Fade. Not using her magic wouldn't hide her, it light her up like a beacon brighter than the sun. It was possible that she really was pushing it all into asking for help.
"If she is a mage…Why does she fight like this?" Solas asked, though it was more to himself than to Varric.
"If she's pushing all of her magic into asking for help, she may not have access to it, though being drugged with Magebane would do the trick too." Varric said, catching Solas by surprise. "She's had to hide from Templars in the City of Chains, Chuckles. You get use to using other weapons. That woman is anything but defenseless."
"Why does she travel with the Mabari?" Solas asked, not hiding his distaste, earning a chuckle from Varric.
"You're not from Fereldan, are you?" Varric asked, though it was more of an observation than a question.
"She said the same thing to me." Solas admitted, to Varric's amusement.
"That Mabari has been by her side through everything. Her run from the darkspawn, the return of her home, becoming Champion, the disaster of the Chantry…even the deaths of her father, brother, sister, and her mother. That last one…Fuck. That last one was one hell of a mess." The dwarf said, thinking back on it all.
"What happened?" Solas asked, looking up from his drawing.
"Crazy blood mage killed a bunch of women for their body parts, trying to recreate his dead wife. Her mother happened to have a face similar to the woman, and we lost her. That woman was practically the groups mother. Flint was never quite the same again after that." Varric said, with a sigh. "After that, there was only one mage Flint ever trusted not to go crazy when using blood magic, a dalish elf that got kicked out of her clan for practicing it. Of course, it helped that she used it to save the lives of her friends rather than butcher innocents."
"Such trust was undoubtedly not won easily after such an atrocity." Solas commented, looking deep in thought. "She told me the Mabari says I am alright, though I can not fathom how she understands the creature. Does the Mabari trust the dalish elf?"
"Of course. Daisy spoiled that thing rotten with belly rubs and doggy treats." Varric said, with a bit of a laugh. "Turns out he's a hell of a DiamondBack player too, though he plays a mean Wicked Grace on occasion."
"The Mabari…plays cards?" Solas asked. This is the first time Varric has ever seen Solas confused, and he's trying to commit the image to memory.
"He cheats better than I do some days, though he has a bit of an obvious tell, if you know what I mean." Varric replied, grinning as he remembered.
"Why do you call her Flint if her family name is Hawke?" Solas asked, the drawing completely forgotten now.
"It fits her. The way she can manipulate flames, like it's a living thing. She's like that with all magic really, but fire is her specialty. Plus, there's this grin she has right when she's about to kill an enemy, like she knows that they're dead before they do." Varric said, thinking of how to describe it. "It's mischievous, wolfish, and fiery all at the same time."
"This one?" Solas asked, finding a particular sketch in the folder he'd give Varric.
"Exactly!" Varric said, looking at the picture a little more closely. "It almost looks like she's got…"
"Fangs." Solas continued. "Just how well do you know this friend of yours, Master Tethras?"
"We've all got secrets, Chuckles. Flint is no different. We've been through too much for me not to trust her to have my back. It's no surprise to me that we still have secrets from each other." Varric replied. "Thanks for listening to me. I think I'll be able to sleep now. You good to take over for watch, Chuckles?"
"Of course, Master Tethras." Solas replied, with a slight nod.
"Tell me what this is." Solas said, handing Varric a piece of paper, the next morning.
"Good morning to you too, Chuckles." Varric smirked. "Sleep well?"
"Damn it, Child of the Stone, if you please. Just…" Salas said, his aggravation leaking through his usual calm. "It's important."
"It's her birthmark. We talked about this before." Varric replied, confused. "Why?"
"That can't be a birthmark." Solas refuted. "That isn't possible."
"Well it is. What's the big deal anyway?" Varric replied, confused.
"Because it's a spell, a kind of locator…You're saying she was born with this?" Solas asked, incredulously, though with more calm than he felt now.
"That's what I said, Chuckles." Varric replied, getting short tempered with him.
"I thought she was just in shock or something, that she just didn't want to talk about it." Solas admitted.
"Mamae always said that was the mark of Fen'Harel, that any who had it was cursed." Lavellan said, concerned, looking at the piece of paper now. "It's said that through that mark, he can find them anywhere."
"You've got that half right, though I suppose if you don't want to be found, it would make it a curse. That mark is so that Fen'Harel can find you if you need him, or if he needs you." Solas replied, studiously. He was leaving out a crucial piece of information, but he wasn't lying. "I am surprised it is even known to us at all, lethal'lan."
"I doubt Flint would think it much of a curse." Varric replied, with a bit of a snort.
"Why?" Solas asked, more than a bit confused.
There was someone who knew of him, and did not believe Fen'Harel was a curse? Unless it was one of his network, such a person did not likely exist in these times, and yet she wore the mark of Fen'Harel. She was born with it, not knowing that it had sealed her fate. He was surprised there was anyone who knew what the mark of Fen'Harel was, no matter that they had gotten the meaning of the mark wrong. He needed to know more about her, and resolved to ask the dwarf as many questions about her as he could.
"I don't know Elven lore well, but from what Flint told me, he'd be one I'd want in my corner." Varric said, as he began packing his things. He was looking down, so he missed the shocked look Solas had on his face. "The Dalish have a lot of bad things to say about him, no offense, Lightning, and yet he's the one they run to for help when the chips are down and they need to pull some crazy miracle out of their ass. She said that no one would be as devious as he is, or as merciless, and that's why elves invoke him for help as a last resort. The downside to that, she said, is if you weren't grateful for the help, or expected him to do everything, he turned on you too."
"She believes in the elven gods?" Lavellan asked, curiously.
"Sort of? She doesn't think they were really gods, more like powerful mages that didn't know when to stop." Varric chuckled. "Sort of like how people think you're really the Herald of Andraste."
"Any other surprises, Dwarf?" Cassandra asked, sternly.
"With Flint? Always, Seeker." Varric replied, not fazed in the least. "I'm sure you'll discover one or two."
She'd been running again, he could see, but this time she was wounded. There was an arrow sticking out of her left shoulder. The dog picked up a stick, and sauntered over to her with it. He thought for a moment, that the Mabari wanted to play fetch or something, but he was surprised when she took the portion that had not been in the hound's mouth and bit down. He caught on to what she was going to do a second before she did it, but the muffled scream still surprised him when she'd pulled the arrow out.
She spit out the stick, and sniffed at the arrow. "Doesn't smell like poison, at least. That's got to be a good thing, right? Thanks for the stick, BarkSpawn, I hadn't thought of that." The Mabari barked once appreciatively.
"Think you can help with the bandages too?" She asked, a soft smile on her lips. To Solas's surprise, the Mabari went over to her bag, and brought out a smaller bag to her. "What would I do without you, boy?"
Solas had no doubt the Mabari was preening at the praise, if that puffed out chest of his was anything to go by. She cleaned out the wound as best as she could, and then slowly began to wrap the wound. The Mabari would nudge the cloth till it was within her reach again, and the two repeated the process till she was satisfied with the job. When it was done, she gingerly sat back against the wall, while she chewed on elfroot. Opening a flask with with one hand, she cocked another grin at her Mabari.
"Don't mind if I don't share this time, do you?" She asked, her voice a bit pained. The Mabari simply tilted his head, and looked at her. "I know, I know. You don't approve. Tell ya what? I'll only take a few sips, and put the rest back. Better?" The Mabari instantly broke out into a grin.
A snapping of a twig caught her attention. Solas wasn't sure how she'd heard it. She wasn't taking chances, and instantly closed the flask as she moved to grab the bag, but before she could get to the bag, a lone templar appeared at the entrance to the cave she'd been hiding out in. Something wasn't right about this one. Red lyrium slightly protruded from the armour.
"Damn." She grumbled. "Come on, if you leave, we can both pretend we didn't see each other. I don't want to have to do this."
The templar moved to charge her, but before it could, it became stone. Solas didn't think his eyes could get any bigger. It wasn't possible, but when she reached out with her hand, a light flashed in her eyes and the templar froze. It didn't seem like she was accustomed to using that ability though, and she sank back down against the cave wall. Her breathing became heavy again, but soon became steady again, and he realized she'd passed out.
He was filled with a sudden dread when he saw that there were more templars coming. The Mabari noticed too, and started nudging her to wake. When she wouldn't wake, it nipped at her hand, wanting her to wake but not wanting to cause her another injury. The enemy would be upon her soon, and in her weakened state, she wouldn't be able to fight them off. He realized he was going to have to do something, but he wasn't sure his magic had recuperated enough to fight as he was here.
"Get up! You have to get up now! You have to go!" Solas shouted, moving to shake her. She jerked awake, and stared at him as if she wasn't sure he was really there. "You have to leave! Now!"
"Fenedhis!" Solas cursed, angrily, as he shot out of the bed roll.
"What's wrong?" Lavellan asked, rushing to him.
"She's wounded. Arrow to the shoulder. Red lyrium Templars are converging on her location." Solas replied, in a rush. "She'd passed out, after dealing with one of them. I tried to wake her."
"Do you know if she's alive?" Varric asked, instantly alarmed.
"She was able to wake, so it is possible." Solas stated, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to think.
"Cassandra." Lavellan called, looking to her.
"I'm on it." Cassandra said, and rushed to get the horses ready.
Though they knew they wouldn't reach her that day, they rode much faster than they normally would, though still keeping the horses well cared for. It was some time before Solas looked to be more like the aloof elf she'd come to call friend. These dreams unsettled him, though there was something to that that she didn't understand. While Cassandra and Varric rode ahead, she stayed behind near Solas. There wouldn't be another time to talk about this privately.
"I stopped having the dreams the day we left to find her." Lavellan said, pulling Solas from his thoughts. "You're still having them. Why is that?"
"I have my suspicions, but I do not know for certain, lethal'lan." Solas replied, looking ahead. "She shouldn't have been able to see me. I shouldn't have been able to give her my shirt before, or shake her awake. If it had not worked…I can not say what would have happened to Varric's friend."
"It could be almost romantic if you spin it right." Lavellan remarked, after a moment, earning her a side glare which she giggles at. He has no time to be thinking such things. "Varric, what do you think? Giving her clothes to protect her modesty? A prison break? Midnight rendezvous? A couple of Apostates gazing at each other under the stars? A desperate search to find one other? If that's not worthy of your friend fictions, I don't know what is."
"What are you talking about, Lightning? I've already got the book written in my head. I'm just waiting on Chuckles to fill in the banks." Varric said, casually. Is he serious? Where did this foolish notion even come from?
"This is…You can't be serious. She's your friend, and she's in danger." He scolded him. "Weren't you the one insisting we save her now?"
"I've got five silver on a Fade kiss!" Lavellan announced, happily, tossing the coin to Varric. What…the…actual…fuck?
"I'll take you up on that bet. I'm actually kind of surprised it didn't happen already." Varric said, jotting down things in his betting book. "I'll raise you 3 more that it will be their first kiss."
"You two are being infantile." Cassandra objected sternly. Finally, a voice of reason.
"Thank you, Seeker." Solas said, gratefully.
"The first kiss will not be in the Fade. It will be in some romantic setting, or right after a battle, but it will be in the physical world." Cassandra continued, completely dashing his hopes that she was a voice of reason. Damn it.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is, Seeker?" Varric asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Romantic setting or after a battle?"
"After a battle could technically be a romantic scene." Lavellan offered up, trying to help Cassandra, giggling when she received yet another glare from Solas.
"8 silver says it's going to be in a romantic setting outside of the Fade, Dwarf." Cassandra huffed, even as they could see her face turn pink.
"Nice doing business with you, Seeker." Varric smirked, and wrote more in his betting book. "You want to bet, Chuckles?"
"Does she bet with you like this?" He asked, defensively.
"Yes. Flint and I have bet on everything from life and death, to the colour of one's smalls." Varric answered. Oh, for the love of –"Nothing is out of bounds when it comes to betting."
"Fine then. 6 silver says that none of your bets win, and we'll both be completely uninterested." Solas replied, hoping to quite the betting ring.
"Can he do that?" Lavellan asked, curiously.
"There's grounds for it. For as long as I've known her, Flint hasn't really dated anyone, not that there weren't people willing. Playful flirting doesn't count." Varric replied. "It's not an interesting bet, but it is a safe one. Way to ruin the betting mood there, Chuckles, and here I had high hopes for you too."
He shouldn't be here, not like this, not when she's in a hot spring. There's steam everywhere, so it's not like he can see anything, but even so he turns around so he won't be staring. It's rude to spy on someone like this, in such a vulnerable state of being. His only solace is that he hopes that she can not see him, or that he can silently walk away before she does. However, he begins to hear her laughter, and when he turns around to face her he realizes that he was wrong in his assumptions.
"Can't say I ever thought you would try this." She said, smirking at him. Wait, was she…was she teasing him?
"This was not my intention." Solas said, not knowing what else to say. "I will just be going."
"Alright, but you'll be wasting a good time to talk. It's not like I'm going to go anywhere, and I have tons of things I want to ask. Don't you?" She replied, floating the offer out there.
"Should you be here alone?" Solas asked, incredulously. "Aren't you in danger?"
"Always. I am a wandering apostate, after all. Surely you know what that's like." She laughed, and then continued on more calmly. "If you mean the those templars from before, then no. They've backed off for the moment. I imagine their trap isn't quite set yet. I wonder if I should feel honoured that they're trying so hard."
"It is still not safe to be…unclothed while running from danger." Solas chided.
"Fighting for one's own freedom while running around completely naked…that does sound like something Varric would right about in one of his smutty books." She mused, then laughed at the look on his face. "You know Varric? Tell me, does he know you've been visiting me at night like this? Has he started a betting ring yet?"
The look on his face must have revealed more than he'd meant it to, because she's laughing again. The things she says though, catch his attention. It's almost as if she knows more than she should, as one running alone. Where would she pick up this information? How much does she know about him?
"I do know Master Tethras, but he's not the one who started the betting ring today. That would be the Herald Lavellan." Solas admitted. "Are you safe for now?"
"As much as I can be." She replied, sinking just a bit more into the waters with a happy sigh.
"Your ankle…" Solas said, trying to think of a way to bring this up.
"Why do you keep asking about my ankle? You saw me completely naked, you know. I mean, there was only so much of me I could hide, but still. Is that what does it for you? Ankles?" She asked, with an arched eyebrow and a grin. Fenedhis lasa! She was teasing him! "I suppose I have nice ankles. I've never really had anyone comment on them before. The rest of Thedas seems to have a thing for my legs."
"The mark on your ankle, what is it?" He asked, ignoring the warmed feeling of his face. He needed to know for certain. "I know you said it was a birthmark before, but that isn't possible."
He is not an adolescent, and her teasing will not affect him. Any remark in that regard would just add fuel to the fire, and he didn't need that. His mission had not changed. However, there was a small piece of him that had to admit that when he'd had the chance to really look at her, it had been her legs he'd lingered on. He mentally shook himself, trying to remain focused long enough to get his answers.
"That's what I assumed it was, though Father did warn me I'd have to watch out. It wouldn't do to catch Fen'Harel's attentions for something trivial." She answered, shocking him, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the hot spring. Just how many times was she going to do that, shock him like that? She opened up one eye, and asked. "Why? Is that why you showed up inside my cell? Is that why you're here now?"
"You know…who I am?" His eyes widened, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "How?"
"Now if I go giving away all of my secrets, what fun would that be?" The woman replied, grinning, both eyes open now.
She's grinning at him with that damned wolfish grin of hers, the one Varric said was reserved for when she knew something was dead before it did. Did that mean that she was hunting him? The thought was one that he hadn't considered, and he could not help the rush of indignant pride that swelled up within him. Did this foolish young thing really think she could hunt him like he was some common prey? With that thought, he dove into the hot spring.
When he came up for air, she didn't even look surprised that he'd jumped in at all. She'd baited him, knowing that his arrogance and perceived superiority would win out. She didn't move when he moved closer to her, or when he place his forearm next to her head against the rock. If he moved any further forward, they would be touching, and yet she did not flinch. Her eyes didn't even hint at uncertainty, and she arched a single eyebrow as if to bait him again.
Fine, if she wanted to play that way, he was game. He pressed her against the rock, and began nipping along her collarbone and up the left side of her neck. She just clung to him with her right arm, considering that it was the only one not in the makeshift sling. Damn, he didn't think this through. Maybe she really was hunting him.
"How do you know, ara'aenor?" He asked, failing to keep the huskiness out of his voice.
My Prey.
"Mmm…Ar ema sai dirtha min air tath on'ala vir Ar'ema shael av'ahnan taht." She moaned ever so slightly when he nipped just below her ear lobe, and he smiled against her skin. Fuck! That sound was better than any drink he'd ever tasted. "Sathan, tel'sildeara la na nuven sai dian sul ara'eth."
I have to say this is by far the best way I've been interrogated…Please, don't feel like you need to stop on my account
"How do you know, ara'aenor?" He asked, again. Yep, she was definitely hunting him.
"If I tell you, you'll leave; and if I don't tell you, you'll leave." She teased, evading him again. "Exactly what is my incentive to tell you anything?"
She had a point, he realized, as he looked into her eyes again. Yep, this was a bad idea. The mark had done it's job, it had revealed her to him, but he didn't know if she knew that or not. He couldn't risk her telling the others who he was, not when he still had so much work to do. His focus suddenly turned to her lips, only just now noticing the deep warm dark red they were, almost like blood.
Without answering her, he leaned in until he was a hair's breath away from those lips. This was a terrible idea, he kept telling himself, even as they both stood there refusing to move. Suddenly, the choice wasn't his to make anymore. She had moved just enough to where their lips touched, and he lost himself to the kiss, pressing them just a touch more into the rock behind her. Her right hand was still on the back of his neck, clinging to him.
When she nipped at his lower lip, he could not help but deepen the kiss, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a moan when she opened herself up to it, as he moved against her. Fuck, if this wasn't the best bad idea ever. This had to stop, he kept telling himself, even as he ran his fingers along her hip under the water, enjoying the shiver that ran through her when he did so. He gently backed away a little, when he noticed that her lyrium lines had reacted to him. They now glowed a soft blue, calling to him, pulling him to her.
"Ina'lan'ehn." He whispers, as he caressed her face.
Beautiful.
She looked surprised to hear the word. Had no one else described her as such, or was it something else? The lyrium itself gave off a soft glow, illuminating the hot spring around them. They highlighted her eyes, making them seem as if they were made of lyrium as well. Her ink black hair framed her face, short though it was.
"A name. I need a name." He said, not knowing how much longer he had, after he had gone back to kissing along her neck. "Something to call you other than Hawke or Flint."
"Alhasha." She whispers, right before she playfully nips at his ear.
Moments before…
She feels him again, before she sees him, and isn't really sure what to do about it. She's alone in a hot spring, naked. Sure, there was steam everywhere, and he'd already seen her naked once already, but even so. It's rude to spy on someone like this. However, when she opens her eyes to look to him, she sees that he has his back turned, and she can not help but start laughing.
Of course she's going to tease him. He looks so uncomfortable as he's trying not to look below the water. The look on his face is priceless when she starts teasing him about Varric, smutty books, and fighting for one's freedom while naked. Besides, when is she ever going to get this chance again? He wants to know what she knows, and wants to know what she would do with such knowledge. That much is easy to see in his gaze.
Why does he keep asking about her ankles? Oh yeah, right, the mark thingy. There was something special about that, her father had said. But in her efforts to tease Fen'Harel, she let it slip that she knew who he was. Shit, she was going to have to play it like she meant to do that
The shocked face of Fen'Harel is too good to pass up. It's not often one can surprise a trickster like this one, and she revels in it while she can. She can't help but grin at him with that wolfish grin of hers. Varric had often described it as predatory, and she supposed it was. What would Fen'Harel do if he thought she was hunting him instead?
He jumped in the hot spring, he really jumped in the hot spring. The action wasn't as surprising as it was amusing. She'd baited him, and it had worked. She didn't move when he moved closer to her, or when he placed his forearm next to her head. If he moved any further forward, they would be touching, and yet she did not flinch.
She hopes her eyes don't show her uncertainty, even though she grew more nervous the closer he got, and she arched an eyebrow as if to bait him again. It did surprise her when he pressed her against the rock. It surprised her more when he began nipping along her collarbone. For a moment, she was too caught up in the sensations to move, but then trailed her right hand up his torso, and clung to the back of his neck. Damn it, she didn't think this through, maybe he really was hunting her.
He certainly acted like it. My prey indeed. If interrogations were all done by him, she'd be okay with getting caught more. He certainly knew what he was doing, smiling against her skin like that. Yep, he was definitely hunting her instead.
When she evaded his question again, he looked into her eyes almost like he was searching for something. This was a bad idea. His focus suddenly shifts to her lips, and suddenly she can't breathe. He can't meant to...When he's a hair's breath away, she decides that that if she's going to die, she might as well steal the kiss while she's at it.
The second her lips touch his, he responds to the kiss, deepening it when she lets him. Both moan into it, and she can't help it when the lyrium reacts to him, like it was calling out for him alone. It wasn't that he called her beautiful that surprised her, it was how he said it, like he was describing a lost treasure. The lyrium made him look ethereal, as he looked into her eyes. Then his eyes shifted, as if he'd made a decision, and then he was back to kissing along her neck, want in his voice as he demanded her name.
Then, just as she told him, he was gone. Damn, that had been...Varric wouldn't believe this, even if she felt she could tell him who this was. She couldn't help but laugh into the night, as she thought about what had just happened. She had dared to steal a kiss from Fen'Harel...and she wasn't dead yet. This could get interesting, or dangerous...probably both.
He shot up suddenly, breathing heavily and shaking, and covered the lower part of his face in shock. Everyone is staring at him, and then he realizes why. He's soaking wet, still in his bedroll, steam billowing off of him in waves. This most definitely could not have been the Fade, he knows that now, as if he really needed more proof. He is somehow moving to where she is.
"So...what happened this time?" Cassandra asked, her lips twitching with the effort not to laugh at him.
"She is...calling across Thedas, not the Fade." He replied, looking away.
"And the reason you're all wet and steamy?" Lavellan asked, shaking with internal laughter.
"She was...being difficult...in the hot spring...refused to answer my questions." Solas answered, reluctantly. They were already having fun at his expense. "I tried...interrogating...jumped in..."
"Interrogating? Is that what we're calling it now?" Varric asked, laughing outright. "In Kirkwall we called it sweeping. Anything else happen, Chuckles?"
Solas was loathed to reveal that, and kept his silence. They would be leaving soon anyway. He would make sure not to speak of the dreams again. They were not dreams, and yet he was always well rested whenever he returned to himself. Solas cursed himself in this moment, for ever having created the spell to find her, to have it bring him to her when he had so much to do.
He could still taste her on his lips, feel the warmth of her skin on his own. She was intoxicating, a mystery to him, and he had so very many questions. She knew who he was, and had kissed him anyway, had actually stolen the kiss from him. Even now, he wanted to run his hands through her hair, like ink running through his fingers. He had questions about the lyrium lines all over her body too, but he already knew that kissing them tastes better than anything he knew, like fire in his blood.