Cassandra rolled her eyes in the dark, but couldn't deny the tiny smile for Evelyn. They were a good match. Now all she had to do was wait until they fell asleep and she would have Varric bring in their clothes and boots. This party-wide payback was for the rude wake up everyone had received when the two had disappeared during Sera's watch, with her bow and quiver left by the fire. Over an hour later, the Herald had woken the entire forest, screaming Sera's name with lots of invocation of the Maker as well. Cassandra had first drawn her sword and made to charge into the darkness, thinking the Herald being torn apart by the thief that she didn't quite trust, the way she sounded as if she were sobbing while pleading with the elf. Varric had saved her the humiliation by making her wait and really listen to what the tone was and the things being plead.
"Sharps isn't the only one yelling, Seeker. Heard Buttercup say a few choice phrases, too," he laughed, finding the whole thing quite hilarious. Cassandra knew this night would end up documented in a volume one day, and realized he was waiting patiently for an official reaction from her to incorporate into the blighted thing.
Her face had grown very warm and she excused herself back to the tent to not face the smug dwarf's laughter. Not even her hands pressed over her ears stifled the voice of the Herald ringing through the night.
A large part of her was curious as to what could cause a woman to sound like that, because nothing like that had ever happened with Galyan in the few times they had coupled, despite his tendency to use a little magic. A pain shot through her again that he was gone, among those she lost at the Conclave. Even if their meetings had been few and far between, she cared for the man. He was a good man.
Another piece of her was slightly jealous of the fact she laid alone, without the warmth of another body, but there was so much more to worry about than a body to warm her bed. The things that Cassandra bedded down with every night were her responsibilities. There was the breach, the fact that she had declared an Inquisition without anyone to fill the most important role of Inquisitor. The second problem was becoming less, as she was seeing more and more in Evelyn Trevelyan as they traveled. She was smart, cultured, and resourceful in strategy. She was kind, and cared about people. She wasn't pure by any means, but the worldliness hadn't corrupted her beyond reason. She was charismatic and steadfast, and talented on the battlefield despite a cocky fighting style that Cassandra knew to be her youth showing. Her style would change as she garnered experience and serious injury caused by her carelessness, like the despair demon getting its claws into her. Cassandra herself knew that for now she had to be a protector and a tutor rolled into one, and perhaps Evelyn Trevelyan would come into something more.
Time passed with no more whispers from the shared bedroll to her left, and when she listened really hard, she could hear the whistling snores that Sera gave when she had completely passed out. Cassandra couldn't believe the stores of energy that the elf seemed to have, she heard Evelyn have to tell the girl to stop, and be quiet, until all she could hear was the sound of them kissing. But Sera had not said another word after that, Evelyn had used the kissing to her advantage. It was very sweet, the way she dealt with Sera's immaturities, Cassandra had not failed to notice. As much as the elf irked her personally with her loud mouth and careless attitude, she did not wish their path together ill.
She pushed herself upright with a stretch, craning her neck against the tight feeling in the bend of it. She was still in her under armor, having only removed her chest plate, greaves, and gauntlets before resting after they had recruited the Grey Warden. She had sent Evelyn to talk with her friend, but she had no idea that she was sending them off into the night to be so lewdly inappropriate. She could choke the woman for that, considering all the troops in the camp that heard every bit of what should have been a very private encounter. She had no doubt that the Herald and Sera would be the gossip in the lower ranks for weeks.
Varric was seated by the end of his cooking spit when she came out of the tent, carrying her sword inside it's sheath, before fastening the chain to her belt. The noise of it made him look up, and he gave the Seeker a smirk as she neared the warmth of the fire. "They finally pass out?" he asked her, and she gave him a pointed look, raising a finger to her lips. He scoffed. "By the sound of things, they'll both sleep well into the morning. Buttercup made her make noises I didn't know women could make, and I thought I was a decent lover."
"Perhaps you're not as charming behind closed doors as you thought, Varric," Cassandra answered shortly, easing herself down against a log.
Varric gave her a sidelong look, a corner of his mouth twitching up. "You saying you've made noises like that, or you've made a woman make noises like that? I'd believe that one, Seeker."
Cassandra gave a disgusted grunt, fighting the urge to grab him by the throat and choke the life out of him. Just when he was becoming tolerable, things like this came out of his mouth to remind her why he infuriated her so. The smell of the nug cooking was teasing her appetite, and she found herself cranky when she was hungry, and his mouth did not help matters. "I think it is safe to replace their things in the tent. They will need their boots once we are ready to move forward," she said instead, not deigning to look at him just then. It was healthier for him that way, as it meant she was not going to throttle him.
"The beautiful part of it is that while they were dragging tits back to safety, they crawled right past their shit behind the tent and didn't even notice," Varric chuckled, moving away from the fire to take their stolen clothing back to them.
Cassandra waited until he was well away to allow the smile to cross her face.
"UP AND AT 'EM!"
Evelyn shot straight up in her bedroll, Sera falling off of her chest with a thud.
"The fuck-?" Sera said groggily, seeing Evelyn take off out of the tent after a little blonde ponytail that could only belong to Varric. She's not even wearing knickers.
She pulled herself out of the bedroll and opened the tent flap to bright sunlight and the sight of Varric being tackled to the ground by a very pissed off Shiny, her pasty arse in plain view of everyone. "I'm going to tell you this once," she heard Evelyn say. "Do not ever wake me up like that again."
She watched Evelyn punch him in the arm hard, then get up and come back to the tent, no one daring to say a word about her partial nudity. The Seeker was even giving a smirk to Varric, smug like she'd warned him and he'd done it, anyway. Sera stood aside and let her lover enter, then gave her a crooked grin. "You know that everyone just saw that pretty little white arse of yours, yeah?"
"Piss on them," Evelyn scoffed, immediately beginning to pull on a fresh pair of smalls. "I don't fuckin' care."
Sera gave a snort of laughter as she also began getting properly dressed for traveling. "It was a treat for them, especially Cass, I bet."
Evelyn felt a grin begin to tug at her lips despite her foul mood from her rude awakening. She grabbed her pants that were lying down at the foot of her bedroll by her boots, and stopped, staring at the thick leather material in her hands, then at the boots on the floor of the tent. "Sera." She said her name flatly, and Sera gave her a quizzical look as she pulled on a fresh shirt.
"Yeah?"
Evelyn didn't verbally reply, just pointed at both sets of boots and the crumpled pile of clothes by them.
Sera's eyes lit up with realization, and then she looked towards the closed tent flap and back to Evelyn, jerking her head towards where they could hear everyone going about their morning routines and breaking down Varric and Solas's tent. She was silently asking Evelyn which one of them was dumb enough to prank the Herald and the prankster of all pranks, herself.
Evelyn put a finger to her lips and gave a slight shake of her head, deciding not to say anything to anyone, and silently telling Sera not to say anything, either. The culprit would tell on themselves by just looking at them a certain way if they didn't mention how their gear just reappeared, and then she and Sera would quietly plot their revenge on the offender without them noticing that either woman was any the wiser. She would share this plan with the imp when they were on the move to Redcliffe Farms and could walk by themselves to talk.
Sera nodded and went back to packing up her things and rolling her bed stuff. Evelyn listened to the idle chatter outside of the tent as they cleaned up their gear, but no one mentioned the prank, nor anything about her or Sera. She knew they were not far from Redcliffe Farms, and after she had Dennet signed on as horse master that they would be going straight to Redcliffe village to speak with former Grand Enchanter Fiona about a possible alliance. It was the main reason they had traveled to the region to begin with, but she was glad that they had taken the time to help these poor people and seal the random rifts they came about. The reputation of the Inquisition in the Hinterlands was shining gold at the moment, and she couldn't be more pleased with their progress thus far in the field.
The plan to watch for looks at the two and to quietly plot with Sera fell through rather dismally. Instead of the peaceful walk that Evelyn had assumed the day to hold, it was full of bandits, demons, random bear attacks, demons, some crazy eyed wolves, oh and more demons. Four rifts had rested between their last base encampment and Redcliffe Farms, which they did not even see until after the sun had set. The last rift had completely taken it out of all of them, despite the added help in the form of Blackwall's sword now that he had come to travel with the party. Something about the rift over the water had made the despair demons stronger than the ones they'd previously faced, and Evelyn was just thankful she managed to kill one without being put out of commission again. The terrors were fucking annoying with that transport thing they could do, disappearing only to reappear under the party's feet, knocking them flat on their asses while they gasp for air after it's knocked the wind from their chests. She was winded and sore, and her hand was completely numb from using the mark so much that day; she couldn't feel it at all. It was a dead weight hanging limp by her left side. She knew the muscles weren't dead because she could still flex her fingers, but the nerves had just been vibrated to their maximum. All she wanted to do was lie down on the ground where she stood and sleep.
Alas, as they topped the hill from the river bed where they'd just closed the last rift, her eyes saw what her hand was yet to feel. There was another rift, and this one was on the farm right beside the main house. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she deadpanned, staring at the eerie green glow in the night. It was so bright that it lit nearly the entire farm in the newborn dark, but it wasn't so strong as to call her mark from this far away. It did not look to be open, and maybe if Evelyn could stay far enough away for the night it would not do so.
"Perhaps if we camp on this side of the farm, it will not open until you are ready, Herald," Cassandra suggested, taking the very thought from Evelyn's mind.
"I was just thinking the same thing, but I want eyes on it all night. Solas, what do you think?" Evelyn asked, turning her tired gaze onto the elf, who regarded the rift with a speculative expression.
"I am of the mind that you and the Seeker may be correct. The rifts tear when you approach, so assuming it is a reaction of the mark as we believe, I think that keeping your distance for the night will allow it to remain dormant and the pain in your hand not to flare." He made a gesture to a slight overhang behind the flat spot just across a small watering hole. "That space should suffice as a safely distanced camp and a suitable lookout for overnight observation."
Evelyn gave a reluctant nod, almost unwilling to test the strength of the mark by taking another step, much less a hundred yards. She wasn't sure she could handle closing another rift that day, feeling worse at this moment than she had the entire trip. The sleepiness was overwhelming, and all of her willpower was focused on remaining standing. Sera was helping by letting her lean against her as they stood still, staring at the rift ahead, her arm around Evelyn's waist for support. She saw Evelyn fall more in the last fight than the past two weeks in the Hinterlands combined, and knew the woman was done for the day, and did not need to push herself further.
"Come on, let's get camp set up and I'll throw on some of this ram meat," Blackwall said in his gruff way, the first one to start forward to the spot Solas had indicated.
Evelyn watched Varric, Solas, and Cassandra follow the man, but she was scared to walk forward. If that rift tore, then it was over for her. The fight inside of herself was gone until further notice of a recharge. Sera looked over at her, but Evelyn couldn't meet her gaze, somewhat ashamed that she was actually frightened in front of the girl she'd sworn she would protect from the very thing that was scaring her. But Sera wasn't letting her get away with ignoring her.
"Shiny? You okay?"
Evelyn gave a jerky nod that told more than if she had just remained still and silent. "I'm tired," she said softly, her eyes still locked on the rift. "If I move in, and it reacts… I can't do it again tonight, Sera. I can't fight, I can't close it. I can't even feel my hand right now, and my body hurts. I think I will lie out my bedroll here tonight."
"If you're staying over here, I'm staying with you," Sera said automatically, and Evelyn shook her head.
"You should eat, and get some good rest in a warm tent."
Sera scoffed, walking Evelyn over to a grassy patch and helping her sit down. "Shut up, Shiny. You know I'm not going to listen to you," she chided her jokingly yet seriously. "We have to have a fire to keep the wolves away, so I'm gonna make Varric come build one over here and tell Cass why we didn't come."
Evelyn watched Sera run off towards the others across the watering hole, then let herself fall back in the grass, looking up at the stars and the breach. She hated that fucking thing with everything inside of herself. It was like it had taken on a persona for her of a mocking asshole that taunted her every minute of every day, and when she thought too long about her task she felt angry that it had fallen to her to begin with. She was no one. How the fuck did this even happen? Cassandra swore it was what she had prayed for, but Evelyn didn't know about that. She didn't think she was the divine answer to a devout woman's prayers.
How could I be? A drunk murderer with a taste for female anatomy instead of being a good little breeding Andrastian? What deity places trust in something like that?
Antiva City 9:41 Dragon
They had been at port for nearly a week before the letters arrived, each one in careful code that they had used for years without it being cracked. There were four individual letters, each addressed to a different woman, yet all had the same directive: only to the hands of the captain or first mate on the Siren's Call II. The messenger was eager to get the missives from his hand into theirs, because every single dock worker on his path there had given him thoughtful looks, probably wondering if he carried a weapon or had coin on his person. He hated dealing with sailors more than anyone because they were crude and had little regard for anything outside their own ship and shipmates. The fact that the recipients of these letters were female astounded the boy, as he had only ever seen a handful of female sailors in his two years running post to the docks in Antiva City. Usually women upon such vessels were merely entertainment, but as the boy boarded the ship he was told to seek, the first thing that struck him was that it was a woman behind the wheel of this beauty, and she looked quite comfortable there. She was dressed as any sailor dressed, with her long, thick ebony hair held back beneath a blue bandana, gold prominent around her neck and in her ears. She had a stud centered beneath her bottom lip, a Rivaini thing the boy had seen numerous times in the port, but never understood its purpose.
She was dark skinned and busty in her white top that did naught to hide her breasts. She wore little to no bottoms, but instead employed boots with a top that ran thigh high. The boy had known a whore or two, but the women in their brothels were no match for the beauty this Rivaini woman held, and he found himself slightly staring at her from the ship's deck before he could brave the stairs to join her at the wheel. The woman had not even noticed the boy, as her face was tilted up towards the sky, her eyes on the hole that had appeared in it a month before when the mages and templars managed to blow the Divine up just like they did with the Chantry in Kirkwall some years back.
A prod in his lower back made him jump sky high, and he nearly dropped the mail onto the wooden deck as he flipped around to face his poker. An amused grin met his eyes, set in the pale face of a tall human woman with short, messy black hair, and the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen. There was a smear of red across her nose, and he wondered briefly if it were blood.
"That's my eye candy you're drooling over, junior," the woman said good naturedly in the King's Tongue, holding out her hand for the small stack of envelopes in his hand. "I'll take those, you look like you're about to piss yourself."
"Ser, I was directed to hand these directly to the captain or first mate, I cannot-" he started to protest in heavily accented words that the woman would understand, as she was obviously a dog lord.
"Brilliant that I'm the first mate, then, huh?" The smile on the pale skinned woman's face grew at the consternation of the teenage boy that just wanted to see her captain up close. "The captain is busy, she's thinking really hard about something up there, and she doesn't like to be interrupted when she thinks."
"Si," he muttered back in his native tongue, handing over the mail but not happy about doing so. "Adios, senorita."
Hawke watched the teenaged elven boy run off the ship without even waiting for a tip, and shook her head at the effect her lover had on men of all ages. They literally fell into line when her captain walked past, like little puppies following a bitch trying to catch a teat. She looked down at the envelopes in her hands, seeing the code names that meant only Varric could have sent the contents within the envelopes. After his last letters telling them that he'd been detained by Cassandra Pentaghast again for a trip to the Divine's conclave about the bullshit that Anders pulled in Kirkwall, Hawke was a little apprehensive about opening hers. She was scared it would tell her to run, that the Seeker knew her location and was sending people after her. She trusted Varric not to spill his beans about the plan they'd discussed after defeating the darkspawn that called itself a magister, the fact that she and Isabela were actually living within the laws by taking on a trade route. The idea was to hide in plain sight.
"Captain!" she called as she took the stairs to the wheel, singling out the letter that merely read "Little Tess" across the envelope and holding it out to her lover when she drew even. "Varric sends us all his love, again."
"That furry little sex toy misses us," Isabela chuckled, shaking her head as she took the letter. "Best not read it here. Kitten and Beth are below deck, should read them together."
Hawke had a sinking feeling in her stomach, a feeling she was well acquainted with and hated. It was the feeling that meant she was about to have to act when she really didn't want to. She enjoyed not waking up to an entire city crying for help every day, and had become accustomed to the solitude that life on a ship entailed. It was selfish of her, but she was trying really hard not to care about anything going wrong in Thedas, despite the giant hole in the sky that no one could overlook.
She followed Isabela back down the stairs and through the door that led to the crew racks, galley, and captain's quarters below deck. They easily tracked down Hawke's younger sister and their elven friend in the very back store room of the galley, poring over some old book with Beth's lover, a mage named Ellen Trevelyan. Isabela clucked her tongue at the three mages, shaking her head as if they did not possess a hope nor prayer.
"Lazy land dogs, all of you," she teased, sliding into a chair at a small table near the opening of the storage room.
"Why are you all holed up back here?" Hawke asked, looking over her shoulder as a cook slammed his finger with a meat mallet and began cussing fluently while hopping around the small pit fire that their dinner was cooking over.
"The crew gets antsy when we study in the open," Beth mumbled, not looking up from the yellowed pages in front of her.
"We frighten them," Merrill said simply, a shrug. "But not as much as some of them frighten me," she added with a little shiver.
Isabela gave a wicked grin. "Garlic hasn't tried to get you drunk since I had my chat with him, has he, Kitten?"
Merrill blushed darkly, unable to meet the pirate's eyes on her. "No," she said quietly, with a single shake of her head. "But he still looks at me."
"I told her we could take one of his eyes out as a warning, but she told me no," Ellen added in helpfully, shrugging a skinny shoulder at the two newcomers to their meeting. "That's what I would do in your situation, Merrill."
Merrill frowned hard at the thought of taking out someone's eye. It sounded squishy and gross. "I think I'll just wait for his fancy to pass, shouldn't take him long, should it? I mean, if he's only looking skin deep, then maybe after he's used to looking at me, he'll get over the… weird part? Right? It makes sense to me."
Ellen merely patted the blood mage on the shoulder, sharing all of their sympathy with the girl.
"We have letters from Varric for you and Beth," Hawke told Merrill, who perked up immediately at the sound of their absent friend's name.
"Oh, good! How I wish we could write him back! I have so much I could tell him about things since we last wrote him," Merrill gushed, missing the one person in the party aside from Isabela that would listen to her ramble about nothing for hours and actually not give her hell for it.
"If he would get the fuck away from that zealot that has him hostage again, we might be able to," Hawke agreed, nodding her head as she handed off the respective letters. She seated herself in a second chair that was opposite Isabela at the small table. "But until then, we are just gonna have to hang on. I don't want the Seeker anywhere near me. I love my freedom just where it is, thank you."
"I love your freedom where it is, too, sweetness," Isabela sighed happily, reaching over and giving her thigh an affectionate squeeze, just happy to have Hawke and the sea together at the same time.
Hawke unfolded the parchment and began to read Varric's words, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she read what he'd seen at the temple when he'd helped close something he called a rift, which seemed to be a rip between this world and the Fade.
"It was red lyrium, Hawke. It was growing out of the ground, covering the walls. I don't know how the fuck it managed to get to Ferelden, but it's here, and it still sings the same song it always sung. If this Evelyn Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste woman can't fix this hole, we're simply fucked. I don't know how else to put it."
Hawke looked up at Ellen with a curious look. "Is your family name common in Ferelden?"
Ellen had taken the tome to herself when Merrill and Bethany had begun to read their letters, but now she looked up at her friend's question with an eyebrow raised. "Not particularly, as we hail from Ostwick. Why do you ask?" Ellen reached for her cup of black tea as Hawke answered her question, taking a sip only to blow it out of her mouth and nose simultaneously.
"The woman that fell out of that thing with the mark on her hand, the one they're calling the Herald of Andraste, her name is Evelyn Trevelyan-" Hawke dodged the spray that came out of Ellen's face, taking it that the name was familiar to her. She knew it was when Bethany gasped and looked at Ellen, recognizing the name as well.
"Your sister!" Bethany exclaimed, and Ellen turned wide bright green eyes to Bethany's caramel colored ones.
"It can't be," Ellen breathed, not daring to hope. "Evelyn? The Herald of Andraste? She swore worse than Isabela even as a child, I cannot imagine what she would be like as an adult, but surely not a divine prophet?"
Hawke read Varric's description of the woman aloud for Ellen's benefit. "'Tall with light brown hair, unworldly green eyes, a smart mouth. She's verbal about being pissed there aren't brothels in Haven, and sits at the tavern and drinks herself into a stupor before bed every night. I don't know what the Maker and Andraste were drinking when they chose her, but I'd like a sip of it, myself.'" Hawke grinned over at Isabela, who was listening to her read it aloud. "I like her already, babe."
"Sounds like our kind of woman," Isabela agreed, licking at the corner of her mouth. "Bet she's fun."
"We can find out, if we ever cross paths. I mean, you have a thing about sleeping with every hero you meet, anyway," Hawke teased her, insinuating herself and the Hero of Ferelden, Kallian Tabris. Isabela's mouth fell open into a playfully wounded look that Hawke couldn't help but to laugh at.
"Hey, Tabris was one time, all right? And her bloody lover was there, too," Isabela said in her defense, which only made Hawke laugh harder.
"Bela, listen to yourself, love. The Hero of Ferelden and her lover, whom is also considered quite the hero… as well as the Left Hand of the Divine."
"And she's running a spy network for this Inquisition nonsense, what's your point?" Isabela said, waving her letter around. "Varric said she scares the piss out of him, but I don't remember her being particularly scary. She was kind of a tart, to be honest. Nice tits, though."
"Guys," Ellen said, catching their attention. "Please don't sleep with my sister. That's just weird. She's probably not even into women, anyway."
"Hmm," Isabela hummed, tapping the stud in her lip thoughtfully. "Not into women has never been a problem for us… I wonder what she looks like?"
Ellen groaned, covering her face. "A lot like me, I'd imagine, since we are identical twins," she pointed out, but Isabela nor Hawke had known the mage was a twin. The information gave Isabela a pause as she looked Ellen up and down speculatively until Bethany cleared her throat loudly.
"Maker, I'm right here, Bela," the girl said, rolling her eyes at the pirate. "And unlike you and Sister, I do not care to share what is mine."
"We aren't looking to touch your precious, Beth," Hawke chuckled, also surveying Ellen as she'd yet to do after nearly four years of the girl being in her company. "We're just… using her as a guide to whether or not we should seduce this 'Herald of Andraste'."
Ellen was tall, same as Hawke herself, and skinny, like Hawke herself. But that's where the similarities ended, as Ellen's hair was a fine chestnut brown and shorter than Hawke's, maybe four inches long from the scalp all the way around and fell into her face in the front so that she always pushing it back from her forehead. She was pale, with a pink scar from a templar sword that ran over her left eye, through the eyebrow and disappeared in her hair line. Her eyes were a defining feature, a bright green like healthy grass, with a cerulean color around her pupil. Her breasts weren't very big, but in comparison to Isabela's, no one's really were. She was all legs like a newborn halla, and wild as one when she saw fit. She'd run from two Circles before ending up at the Gallows and meeting Bethany three months before the rebellion began. Ellen didn't try to run again after that, though Hawke felt like it had more to do with her sister than the hospitality of Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard.
"Mmm, Herald of Andraste, that does sound deliciously blasphemous," Isabela purred agreeably to Hawke, though Hawke knew it was more to irritate Ellen than an actual fantastical thought. "I wonder if she cries to the Maker when she comes?"
Ellen closed the tome in her lap with a loud thud and put it in Merrill's hands as she stood quickly and briskly walked away, not sparing a glance for the pair of cackling rogues behind her as she disappeared out of the galley towards the racks. Bethany gave her sister and the pirate a withering look as she rose to follow the younger woman, but the two of them just kept on giggling like a pair of overgrown children-which to Beth, they were.
"You're both well past thirty summers, and act like a pair of kids," Bethany said, shaking her head at them. "She's seven years younger than I, and more mature than the two of you combined," she finished factually as she passed them, getting nothing but a middle finger from a still laughing Isabela and a tongue stuck in her direction from her older sister.
"Well past thirty- you hear that, Bela? Thirty-four is well past, so you may as well be forty, eh?" Hawke tittered, shaking her head at Bethany's retreating figure.
"Thirty-seven and damn surprised I made it!" Isabela called after Bethany as she turned the corner.
Merrill watched the mirth fade from both of her dear friends, and a sort of horror settle on both faces as they realized the truth of Bethany's words. "I've got but three years until forty," Isabela breathed to Hawke, who looked as if she were in line with the sudden awareness that they were mortal.
"The brat wasn't lying. We are getting older," Hawke said, looking over at her lover with a furrowed brow. "But you're right, too. With our old lifestyle being what it was, I'm seriously surprised to be alive."
"This makes me want to drink. Can we just drink? And maybe fuck? Because to hell with this granny feeling I've got right now," Isabela said, pushing her chair back from the table and grabbing Hawke by the wrist.
"You always want to drink and do… that," Merrill pointed out, and Isabela paused.
"Damn, Kitten, right as always," she chuckled, shaking her head at herself. "Well, shall we see to our quarters?"
Hawke had no choice but to follow, shaking her head at Merrill, who waved goodbye to them with a merry smile before opening the book and continuing to read it alone.
Ellen slid onto the bunk that she shared with Beth, staring up at the rafters above her. Marian and Isabela were insufferable when they chose to be, like just now. They would probably seek her sister out just to spite her now, for the laugh it would give them both. She felt the straw beneath her shift as another weight added to the mattress, and she did not have to look over to know it was Bethany, her magic strong and familiar to hers, the vibration of both a symphony in her veins. If life in the Circle had given her anything good aside from patience and experience, it was Bethany Hawke.
Kirkwall 9:37 Dragon
She'd been taken the moment she entered Kirkwall, the Tantervale Circle she'd run away from having sent word ahead to the templars in surrounding Circles. She knew she was being stupid going to Kirkwall, but she wasn't supplied to go any further than the coast of the Free Marches, so it wasn't like she had a lot of choice. When she was apprehended right away and taken by boat out to the infamous Kirkwall Gallows, she saw it as the boat ride into the Void because she did not expect to survive this Circle. She had run twice, first from Starkhaven after many nights sneaking in and out, then from Tantervale, all for a bit of fun in a tavern before she had to go back. But she did not dare run from Meredith, whose reputation as a heartless beast proceeded her, the Rite of Annulment a constant threat over these mages' heads. She loved laughter too much to let someone steal it from her, even if it meant being the defeated mage in Kirkwall, resigned to a life without seeing past the Gallows. But even that was still a life, and a life that became brighter one night in the library.
She had been reading quietly that night, pacing around a circular rug that rested near some stacks, thinking herself the only person about in the great room. The book's subject matter was lost to her the moment she heard a quiet greeting from behind her that startled her so much she nearly dropped the book she'd been holding. For some reason it was then and only then she felt the wave of mana about this one, deep wells of it that marked the woman in front of her a talented and focused individual. Ellen's eyes swept over her form, shorter than she, her hair longer and pitch black, her eyes a soft caramel in the light of the oil lamps, her skin a snowy white. She wore navy robes that fit her hourglass figure perfectly and a small, warm smile that was directed at Ellen.
"I'm Bethany, Bethany Hawke," the woman introduced herself, stepping forward with a hand outstretched to Ellen, who took it and shook without realizing she was doing so because she was so caught up in the warmth the woman exuded.
"Ellen Trevelyan," she answered absently, pleased when her steady gaze made the woman in front of slightly blush. "I'm new here."
"I noticed. I saw them bring you in. A runner from Tantervale, rumor says?" Bethany gave her a small half smile as she stepped around a table that stood between them and took a seat in one of the wing backed chairs near the small fireplace towards the front of the room.
"Aye, but I'm from Ostwick. I don't like being classified by what Circle I serve," Ellen said, her eyes following the mage's every movement. She didn't look back down at the book in her hand as she closed it and mindlessly slid it on top of a random shelf to her left. She moved forward to take the seat opposite Bethany at the fireplace, and Bethany gave her another smile.
"I understand. This is the only Circle I've ever known."
Ellen leaned her elbows onto her knees as she listened to the girl speak, loving the velvety quality. She realized this woman was years her senior, but she didn't care. She was entranced by the very well of her mana. She wanted to know her. "How old were you when you came?" Ellen asked interestedly, cocking her head to one side in curiosity as the question brought a smug smile onto the mage's face.
"Nineteen," she answered, and Ellen knew exactly why she was smug. That was a long time to go without being taken by templars. "I've been here six years this year."
Ellen winced, thinking about the Gallows uniquely oppressive environment, and how it felt like a weight of sorts rested on top of every person inside, including the templar guards. "That is impressive. You've lasted this long here and still have your wits about you," she said softly, looking to see if anyone was about when she said so.
"It's not so bad here if you like to read," Bethany replied light heartedly, making Ellen grin. She did love books, she always had. She had been the brains, Evelyn had been the muscle.
"You're not a Marcher, are you? Fereldan, then? I knew some in the first Circle I served. Blight victims that got caught when they came here for refuge."
"Then you know my story," Bethany said with a little shrug. "We came here to run from the darkspawn. I made it undercover just over a year, then templars came to my uncle's and brought me here."
"You're lucky you made it. I hear lots didn't," Ellen said quietly, chewing her lip pensively.
"I know… my twin brother didn't make it." Bethany sighed, looking away from Ellen and into the flames. Ellen felt her heart sink for her, not being able to imagine the world without Evelyn in it, even if they never saw each other again.
"You do have my sympathies," Ellen said to her with a small nod. "I can nearly identify with losing your twin, yet my twin lives on. She watched me be dragged away when we were but children, eleven. Neither of us took it well." Her gaze drifted, lost in that day so long ago.
"You're a twin?" Bethany sounded like she couldn't believe it. Ellen looked back at her from the stacks behind the girl.
"Aye, identical. Her name is Evelyn. What was your brother's name?"
"Carver," Bethany said in barely more than a whisper. "His name was Carver. He was an arse, he was stubborn and brash, hot tempered. But he was protective, and loyal. He loved us. He died protecting us. And I miss him every day."
"He sounds a lot like Evelyn," Ellen acknowledged with a wry smile. "I was a bookworm, rarely went outdoors. She was the opposite, always looking for trouble, adventure, getting caught up in schemes even as a child. Stubborn, brash, hot tempered asshole.. You described Evelyn perfectly."
Bethany gave an understanding nod, looking to the flames again. "And I'm sure you miss her every day, too. Perhaps we can help each other stay focused on the now, rather than the then. Have you read anything by Hertim Uhark?"
Ellen's eyes lit up at the name. "Only everything he's written!"
As days turned into weeks, the attraction refused to budge and only seemed to get stronger until Ellen couldn't handle the pressure in her ribs anymore when she was around the healer who'd had her attention from the moment she first saw those caramel eyes. The final straw was one day they were talking in the courtyard during a fairly windy day. The wind had whipped strands of Bethany's hair across her face, and without even thinking about what she was doing Ellen had reached out and lovingly tucked it back behind her ear. The action had surprised them both, and Bethany had instinctively gripped Ellen's wrist as she touched her, but she didn't let go when they locked eyes.
Slowly leaning forward, Ellen tilted her head just a bit, silently asking permission to do what the magic between them wanted her to do. Bethany's response was a nod so slight that it may have been Ellen's imagination, but she did it, regardless. She kissed Bethany. Bethany kissed her back. It was the most natural thing Ellen had ever done.
The kissing became a thing when Ellen found out that Bethany had never kissed anyone before her, and it explained why Bethany was pulling the younger girl into dark passages just to do it undisturbed. But it also meant that Bethany was a virgin, something Ellen was definitely not. Therefore, she was shaking wreck when they finally crossed that line, trying so hard to make it perfect for Beth, to show her how she felt with her actions rather than words. So she was shocked that after they had finished and were lying curled together in the dark that Bethany started giggling, until the giggling turned into laughter.
"What? What's so funny?" Ellen demanded, her pride getting just a tad hurt. She thought Bethany was laughing at her performance, but not fifteen minutes earlier she was making the woman fall apart in her arms for the first time.
"Nothing, calm down, you were amazing. I'm just laughing at a memory. A friend of mine- well, also my sister's lover- told me once that men were only good for one thing, and women were good for six. I see now what she meant when she said so, because I don't think a man could- you know… do that." Bethany made a gesture between their bare chests with a single finger to indicate what just happened between them.
"Which part?" Ellen teased with an eyebrow raised, reaching up to touch her face.
"Exactly my point," Bethany answered neutrally, not falling for Ellen's bare trap to get her to say something dirty.
"Clever girl," Ellen murmured, pulling her face closer so as to kiss her softly. She really held such an affection for the girl that it puzzled her. Bethany was the best book she'd ever come across, and she wanted to read it all the way to finish because she was so curious.
Things had been bad in Kirkwall for years. But things had really declined in the past three with the murder of the viscount by the qunari Arishok, and Meredith trying to rule with a paranoid fist ever since. The Circle was restless. The energy was high with reports of blood magic running rampant through the ranks, secret rituals and gatherings being held. Ellen and Bethany dared not to sneak away together at the end, fearing being noticed missing and accused of blood magic, as well. The scariest part is that even if they were merely caught being intimate, both feared they would be put to the sword under the guise of blood magic just to quell the number of mages under the tenuous hold of the templars. The First Enchanter was already building a resistance while fearing the worst, and though they did not actively put their bodies at the forefront of Meredith's shrewd, icy gaze, both girls made their own small contribution to the mage cause in the form of study.
Then the unthinkable happened. An apostate named Anders set off the conflict that been growing with a big bang. The crazy bastard blew up the Chantry and the Grand Cleric within it. Ellen had been in her room, gazing off into space while trying to calm the vibration of magic that just wouldn't stop inside. The explosion from the distance did not surprise her. She felt this coming in the air. Everyone did.
When Orsino came back in a cool rage to tell them all what had transpired, he was not alone. Bethany, her older sister, and a group of misfits were standing armed with him. Ellen caught Bethany's eyes, and the older mage made a motion with her hand for Ellen to come to her side. Ellen did not hesitate. If she were to die this day, it would be her honor to do it with these brave people. She would give her life for the freedom of her people, for the chance to be people, and not tools or the shame of the Chantry. The templars had asked for this. They were sick of being treated like animals.
The fighting was rough. It wasn't Ellen's first battle, but it was damn near. She didn't have a lot of combat experience, but she knew how to focus and throw spells. Storms were her forte. She could pull lightning from a blue sky if she so willed it, and willed it she did. Over and over, static shocks running through the metal of templar armor, and burning through the flesh of abominations that were appearing all around them. Orsino himself had shifted, giving in to the demon as he declared that blood magic was the only way. Killing the monster had not been easy, nor was it joyful. He had all but admitted to being an accomplice to the sick fuck that had murdered Bethany's mother, and Orsino had been a man that both Hawke women had trusted. The bitter look on the elder Hawke's face told it all.
But that had not been the end. Meredith herself had come out to finish what Anders had purposefully begun. The man stood to the left of Ellen now, on the other side of the massive woman known as Aveline. Ellen debated throwing a bit of sparks his way when she saw how the man looked at Bethany as if she were the one that got away. She swallowed the jealousy long enough to listen to the two women ahead exchange words that would no doubt end in bloodshed, no matter what the Champion of Kirkwall said now. Meredith was so insane that her second in command refused to stand with her and furthermore ordered her to step down from her position. She did not take his words well, pulling free a massive blade of shining red crystal that made the dwarf behind her gasp with unconcealed shock.
Red lyrium. It was something she still saw in her nightmares, something that she hoped she'd never see again after she watched it make concrete statues spring to life and attack them, and then…. And then turn a living creature into a solid crystal shard of itself, shaped just as Meredith was in life. It was silent after she was dead, everyone looking at the gaggle of templars that had survived the fight. The Knight-Captain, Cullen, gave a jerk of his head to the Champion, who did not hesitate. She grabbed the wrist of the dark skinned woman with the funny jokes and took off, and before she could draw a breath, Ellen was being dragged off as well, by Bethany.
The ship was bigger inside than out. Ellen was thankful of the fact, having a bit of claustrophobia caused by years locked up in the Circle. But Isabela's ship was anything but a prison. In two weeks' time, Ellen had seen a number of cities as they either sailed by or stopped at port. The quiet elf with the lyrium markings was the first to go, having been so loyal to Hawke that he'd fought by her side in the end, even with his hatred of mages. Anders was next, having a notion that he needed to go to ground as soon as he was able. Ellen hoped she never had to lay eyes on the Grey Warden again, if he couldn't keep his longing looks at her lover to himself. She was glad to see the back of the blond bastard.
That left Ellen with an elven apostate named Merrill that she actually rather liked despite her own proclivity being blood magic; the ever abrasive and seductive Captain Isabela, whose jokes alone would forever score points for her in Ellen's book, unless the joke was on her and Bethany; the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke, a sarcastic and reluctant hero that never wanted to see Kirkwall again; and Bethany, of course. The common consensus among all five of the remaining survivors was that they did not want to be in the middle of the bullshit anymore, so they simply disappeared. And Ellen was completely okay with it.
Antiva City 9:41 Dragon
Four years later, Ellen still didn't care for when she was the butt of one of Isabela's crude jokes, no matter how hard she would laugh at anyone else's expense. She was aware it was petulant, and somewhat childish, but as the youngest person on the vessel she could not help to feel just a tad entitled to it.
"They're just riling you up," Bethany said softly as she joined Ellen on her pillow to stare up at the rafters with her. "They're not serious."
"Bullshit."
"Okay, so maybe they are," Bethany chuckled, rolling over to wrap her arms around Ellen. "But there's always the possibility she would say no."
"Right," Ellen said sarcastically. "I don't even know why it bothers me so much. I haven't seen her in eleven years."
"You do know why, Ellen, don't be petulant. I literally just told them you're more mature than they are, and you're making me a liar," Bethany said with a joking note to her voice, reaching up and pinching the girl's cheek.
"I wonder if she would even recognize me? Or I, her?" Ellen pondered, and Bethany pursed her lips.
"I bet a hundred sovereigns she would," her lover said soothingly. "Maybe when everything calms down, you and I can go alone. Sister wouldn't have to come out of hiding for us to travel to her, regardless of the Seeker. We can just say we parted ways from them a while ago."
"True," Ellen muttered, thinking hard on whether or not she could handle it if she met Evelyn again and the bond they shared was gone. She liked to remember her twin that way, as the one that attacked grown men when they came for her sister.
"We'll figure it out, stop worrying," Beth whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek.
Ellen rolled over onto her side and pressed her face into Bethany's bust, the soft flesh a balm to her as always. "Going near my sister is dangerous for me. My father would no doubt be keeping close tabs on one of his spawn so brightly lit. I don't think the reunion with him would be quite as sweet."
Bethany didn't reply for a few moments. "His opinion isn't law, Ellen," she whispered when she finally replied. "There's nothing wrong with us, magically or otherwise. We're not monsters for who we are, love."
Ellen gave a snort. "He'd probably be pleased that I am partnered to a woman, just so he knows I am not breeding to spread my 'disease'."
Nothing more was said, Bethany just tightened her hold on Ellen and held her as the ship rocked from its anchored position. There would be a day she would see Evelyn again. But Maker only knew how nervous Ellen was to actually do it.
Author's Notes.
So, my world tilted slightly over the past couple weeks, but I think I have everything under control now. I got DA:I GOTY edition for my PS4, and I have to say that I am still very involved with it. Up until now I had only played a very bland version of this beautiful piece of art on Xbox 360, and I have only just started to finish up Jaws of Hakkon. I still have the Descent and Trespasser to play. So my updates are coming much more slowly, because it is all I do in my free time now. I started a new job, and have worked double shifts almost every day since I began, so my free time is limited.
…I'm also role playing Dragon Age on Sunday nights. ..totally not a nerd.
I owe three people very long responses to messages received, and I swear I will get to it. It's just been insane crazy in my world.
Thank you guys so much for the love.
Rogue
P.S. Meet Ellen. She's my Trevelyan mage, and my answer to my personal woes that I could not (morally) lust after Bethany Hawke in DA2. Ahem. Sorry not sorry.
P.P.S. Did I mention all the heroes mentioned in this fic are my personal heroes? No? Maybe implied? Hope so. Kallian, Hawke, and Evelyn are my own protagonists from my play throughs. So the pairings are obviously my own, as well. So please excuse any liberties I may take.
Update: I finished the game. And I am now among the ones waiting impatiently for the next Dragon Age. Maybe after Andromeda drops next year we will have some substantial information instead of the rumors I have heard of a possible W.I.P. that MIGHT be Dragon Age 4.