Author's Note: Apologies about any confusion concerning my recent activities! I realized that neither of my first two chapters had an author's note or disclaimer, so I added one as a whole new chapter to clear things up. I should be better about remembering to put it at the beginning of each chapter from now on. Thank you to the people who have already favorited! It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside :3
Disclaimer: I own nothing, BioWare owns all!
A knock at the door roused her from sleep sometime in the morning. Beyond that it was daylight, which could only be seen because of the window in the room, Hawke didn't know what time it was, but she did know that she was very tired. "Come in." She said reluctantly.
Vergas entered with a waterskin and passed it to a grateful Hawke. She was aware that her shoulder-length hair was unseemly tangled and messy, but she did not care. Sleep would claim her again soon enough.
Vergas sat in the chair, seemingly trying to find something to say. Hawke spared him by asking, "How is Ianto?"
"He is well. I'm making him keep that arm in a sling for now, but other than that she seems no worse for wear."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"As am I Hawke. Thank you, again."
"That reminds me… Your ship: The Hawk's Flight. Where did you get the name? I was not aware that hawks were big water birds."
Vergas grinned at her interest, or perhaps at the coincidence of names, either way he answered, "They are not, in fact. The name comes from when Ianto and I were lads. We were on our way back from the Free Marches when a storm wrecked the ship we were on. It was quick, savage. Not many survived the initial devastation, but Ianto and I had managed to find a lifeboat that was still floating. We climbed aboard and thanked the Maker we were still alive.
"That's when the fog settled over the area.
"The area around here is not the safest to traverse even when you have a crew of experienced sailors. The rocks can be sailed around when you can see what you're doing, but the fog obscured everything. We weren't even sure how close to the harbor we were.
"On the second day of this, while I was on watch, a hawk landed on the seat in front of me. My curiosity was piqued, overriding any caution I should have had. I leant cautiously closer and the bird still didn't fly away. It just sat there, staring at me. I stared back. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was that I was exhausted, but I could swear I saw… intelligence in its gaze."
He paused in his tale, recalling how eerie it had been. Hawke prodded curiously, "What did you do?"
"Oh, I did what any sane person would, of course." He smirked. "I asked it for help."
"Did it respond?" Hawke teased.
"As a matter of fact, it did. Sort of. It flew off, but before it did it looked like it had nodded. Anyway, it flew to the bow and… did something. I admit it was an odd sight, I'm not rightly sure I could describe what it did, but after it had finished, the hawk spoke."
"A shapechanger, maybe?" Hawke was surprised. An apostate most likely. No wonder he doesn't seem to mind my magic, if an apostate helped him before.
"Indeed. He beckoned me over and told me that it was not in his power to bring the wind, but that he could guide us through the water to harbor. All we had to do was follow. I woke Ianto, told him to follow the hawk. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he was too used to following my orders to disobey. We made it to harbor, kissed dry land, and when I looked for the hawk, to thank it, it was already gone."
"You were very lucky."
"Don't I know it. I would have liked to thank the mage for helping."
"Is that why you seem unconcerned by my apostate status?" Hawke asked.
"It is a reason, yes, but not the only one."
Before Hawke could ask what other reasons he had, the door burst open and a disheveled sailor quickly saluted and declared, "Captain, we need you on deck, Ser."
Vergas frowned, "What is it Sailor?"
"There's some…" he glanced awkwardly towards Hawke, "unrest, Captain."
Oh, Maker, I bet 100 sovereigns this has to do with my magic. Hawke sank a little in the bed, trying to become smaller, unnoticeable.
Vergas stood and made his was to the door. He threw an apologetic look to Hawke before dparting. Through the door she heard his remark to the sailor, "Now what exactly is going on?"
The two were already out of earshot for the sailor's reply, however, so Hawke just lay back and waited. Still recovering from exerting herself, Hawke slipped into sleep without meaning to.
The Fade was always a strange place. She tried to avoid accidentally falling asleep because it meant she would have less control within the Fade. When she found herself in a small clearing with a clear pond at its center, Hawke relaxed a little. This was her meditative refuge. Whenever she forged into the world of dream outside of sleep, she brought herself here. It was good that she appeared in a place she knew.
Something is different. She noticed quickly. Looking around, Hawke saw nothing immediately out of place. Yet, something is different. I can feel it.
Standing from her seated position, Hawke walked barefooted the perimeter of the clearing. Still finding nothing, she frowned and sat on the rock at the edge of the pool of water. She slipped her feet into the cold wetness and continued to look around.
That's when she noticed it. She was being watched. There was no one in the open, so she drew he gaze to the trees themselves. When she brought her eyes along a spot almost on the other side of the clearing, the thing that watched stilled. She could feel it in the tension of the clearing.
Not taking her eyes off the spot, she withdrew her feet from the water and walked over to the trees. "Hello?" She kept her voice soft and gentle, so as not to startle whatever it was. She moved forward slowly as she neared the tree line. She leaned against one of the old oaks and looked into the forest. There, not too far from the clearing was a white wolf.
Startled at first, she almost drew away, but then she noticed that he was caught in a trap; a net held him down. He continued to look at her, though he tried not to move. When she tore her eyes away from the net and to his own, she was surprised to see that they were not yellow. They were green.
When she reached out to him he growled. She hesitated. "Do you want out?" She asked.
He stopped growling suddenly, seemingly surprised. Taking that as a good sign, she reached out again. His growling resumed, however, so she withdrew. As she withdrew this time, movement on the other side of the wolf caught her eye. Beings of rage began to swarm the trapped wolf.
"No!" Unthinking, she swept her hand willing the demons to stop. Ice sprang from the ground and destroyed the oncoming threat. What? Was that Cone of Cold? She looked surprised at her own hand.
A whine from the wolf brought her back to the trapped animal. She reached for the net, to pull it off, but more demons gathered. She called forth lightning as she had against the hurlocks that harassed them on the way out of Lothering and banished them.
Frantically, she began tugging at the net trying to get it off the wolf before more demons could come.
"Hawke." The voice made her jump. She looked at the wolf, wondering if that deep, gravelly voice had come from him.
He stared at her with those green eyes…
"Hawke?"
She sat bolt upright and then really wished she hadn't as the room began to spin. She put a hand to her head and the other on the bed to steady herself. She groaned, "That was dumb."
"Hawke, are you alright?" Aveline stood by the head of the bed and glanced at her, concern on her features.
"Mph." Was her intelligent reply.
"I told you not to wake her." Aveline turned her gaze to Vergas, who was standing by the door.
"I apologize Mistress Aveline. It was not my intention." He said.
"What's going on?" Hawke mumbled. What was that dream… I can't remember…
"There have been complaints," Aveline began bluntly. "It got out, somehow, that one of the refugees, you, is a mage. Some of the other refugees are rather upset that 'a cursed abomination of nature' was hiding in their midst."
Hawke groaned. "No doubt here to corrupt their minds and sacrifice their virgins."
Vergas chuckled. "Something like that."
Aveline did not look amused. "It apparently doesn't matter to any of them that you have saved the lives of two people on board; they are threatening violence to your person should they see you in the hold again."
"Really?" Hawke scoffed. That seems a bit extreme. Wait… "What about Mother and Carver?"
"They have, at this point, made no move against your family. We aren't even sure they know you have any." Vergas answered.
"And you Aveline?"
"No open aggression, but I can take care of myself."
"So, what's the plan?"
"You remain here for the remainder of the journey." Hawke was about to protest, but Vergas raised his hand to silence her. "I will not ask one of my crew to vacate their bed and there are no spare rooms. Truly, I do not mind sleeping on the deck."
Hawke frowned but did not protest further. "If you insist Captain."
"In addition," Aveline started, "it seems that a group of refugees, many from the same group that have an issue with you, are saying that it is unfair for only a few to be allowed out of the hold."
"Oh," Hawke frowned deeper, "I hadn't thought of that."
"To keep everyone calm, Mistress Aveline agreed to cease visits. Your family will also be forbidden from leaving the hold to visit you."
"Aveline?" Hawke suddenly disliked this idea a lot. Being alone was not okay with her.
"It serves a dual purpose Hawke." Aveline stated calmly. "We appease the very reasonable concern of unfair treatment, and with any luck, by the end of the journey they will have forgotten that you were ever here. If myself or Leandra kept coming and going it would be a constant reminder that you were still aboard."
Hawke drooped, defeated. Aveline was right. There were dangers enough from the Templars in Kirkwall without a vengeful refugee running to rat her out fresh off the boat.
She sighed, resigned, as a thought entered her head. "Tell them I'm dead. You threw me overboard or something. I won't be there to contradict you, and the last thing I need is someone warning the Templars."
Aveline thought it over and Captain Vergas seemed to defer to her judgment in this matter. "We'd have to tell Leandra and Carver. They've been through enough without thinking that you were brutally cast overboard."
"Less of a shock when I rejoin them in Kirkwall, too."
"Are you sure about this?" Captain Vergas asked.
"It is a good idea." Aveline assented.
"Not to mention the unrest it'll save you when they realize I'm living in the lap of comparative luxury." Hawke added.
Vergas paled at the mere thought of more unrest. "Very well."
"So, this is goodbye for a while, Hawke." Aveline sat down on the bed next to her friend. "Don't tax yourself. Rest. You'll need your strength for Kirkwall."
"Thank you, Aveline. Look after them for me? Carver is a handful, but I think he respects you more than he ever did me."
"I'll keep them safe." She promised.
The two clasp forearms and Aveline left without another word. She closed the door behind her and Hawke felt more and more lonely with every retreating boot step.
"I'm sorry it turned out like this."
"I am an apostate. Prejudice is not unfamiliar to me." Hawke sighed.
"That does not make it right." He stated firmly. Hawke gave him a small smile in return and he continued, "I'm afraid I must take my leave; there are a few things I must discuss with the crew."
"Of course. I am sorry for the trouble my presence has brought you."
"It is not you that I regret bringing on board, Hawke." He saluted her casually on his way out the door.
Alone again, Hawke tried to remember what the dream had been. Not normal, that's for sure. Malcolm, her father, had always warned her and Bethany to pay attention to dreams. They were not limited to idle fancies of the subconscious, not for mages. With a stronger connection to the Fade, mages could sometimes experience visions—images and metaphors for important happenings. They were not common, but they were not unheard of.
She tried to pull at the strings of memory, but the more she tried, the faster they slipped away. Frustrated, Hawke shook her head and relaxed. Fighting for the memory would not be useful. She would remember it eventually, or she would not. Either way, there was nothing she could do about it now.
Sleep returned quickly.