Scratching the Surface
The candlelight illuminated the narrow path that led to the altar, where the Holy Mother and Donnic awaited the arrival of the bride.
Slowly, Lorelai made her way up the path, her simple yet elegant dress of iridescent silk changing its hue as the soft light reflected off of it.
The few guests present turned to watch as she made her way up the aisle, their quiet gasps telling Lorelai that Aveline had entered the chantry, and she smiled gently as she focused on Donnic's reaction. He looked awestruck.
Good, she thought.
It was rare to see Aveline out of her armor, rarer still to see her looking even remotely feminine. Today, however, Aveline had willingly allowed Isabella and Lorelai to elaborately style her hair, and apply some light make-up, effectively transforming the dour woman into a lovely bride.
Lorelai reached Donnic and winked conspiratorially at the guardsman before she nodded demurely to the grinning holy woman and stepped to the left; Aveline arrived at her groom's side a few moments later.
Quietly, the vows were exchanged, the Mother asking Lorelai for the rings. As Aveline became wife to the man she loved, Lorelai could not help but smile, glancing lovingly over her shoulder at Anders who was watching her closely.
As the Holy Mother introduced the newlywed couple to those who had gathered to witness their union, Donnic beamed at Aveline and offered her his arm, guiding his bride back down the aisle. Lorelai paused, allowing the Mother to take her place behind the new couple before she too fell into step, the guests following along.
Aveline and Donnic reached the statue of Andraste, the Maker's bride, and they all waited as the Mother offered the traditional benediction. Bowing her head, Lorelai smiled gently as she felt Anders arrive at her side, his warm hand slipping into hers.
With the prayers finished, the small crowd clapped and began to disperse, many headed to the Hawke estate for a wedding feast. Anders gently pulled her against him, softly placing a kiss against her temple.
"I wish it could be us," he whispered softly into her ear. "I love you, Lorelai."
"Lorelai?"
Lorelai gasped and started as she opened her eyes, the dream scattering in the winds that buffeted the ship carrying them away from Kirkwall.
"Hawke? I'm sorry, I hadn't realized you'd dozed off," said a deep voice.
Her husband's voice.
Looking up, her mind still fuzzy from her short nap, she saw Sebastian standing over her, a large blanket in his hands. He moved forward and wrapped it around her shoulders, before he sat down beside her.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"You looked cold," he replied. "I didn't mean to disturb you," he mumbled in apology. "The cabin is almost ready; I know you must be exhausted. They didn't expect us until tomorrow night, so we've caught them a bit unprepared; I'm sorry, Hawke."
Turning her head slightly, she watched Sebastian as he settled on the bench next to her. He looked as tired as she felt, his gleaming white armor covered with soot, blood, and the dirt of her cellar.
Lorelai shifted slightly, snuggling the blanket around her. "It's Lorelai, you know," she said with a small smile. "I think most husbands and wives call each other by their first names," she reminded him and he offered her a smile.
"Yes, I suppose they do, don't they?" he agreed. His aqua-colored eyes wandered the fading horizon behind them and he sighed. "It's lovely, isn't it?"
Above her, the night sky was clear, and the last of the retreating sunlight submitted itself to the inevitability of the dark. The moon was slowly rising behind Sundermount, its peak the last part of home she could still make out.
It was beautiful.
Glancing away, she shrugged. "I'm not much of a sailor, I'm afraid; apparently it's only something I do when I'm running for my life," she said grumpily.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded slightly. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I'm not usually so…glum."
"I know that," he replied softly. "Bad dream?" he asked, pushing a tangle of hair out of her face.
Her eyes darted away. "Something like that," she answered, not wishing to discuss it further.
Sebastian nodded, leaving the subject alone, instead quietly returning to his feet. Stooping, he tucked the loose edge of the blanket more securely around her.
Lorelai watched his movements, astounded by his seemingly bottomless concern for her. When he'd had time to arrange for this vessel, to plan everything, she had no idea, but she found herself enormously grateful for his calm countenance.
"The captain has not yet had time to speak with me, as our hurried departure demanded his full attention," he explained, straightening up again. "I'm going to talk with him now. Is there anything you need?"
Lorelai shook her head, and, watching her with a look of concern, Sebastian nodded before he turned to leave for the top deck.
"Seb?" she called out as a thought occurred to her, and he halted, looking back at her. "I haven't asked where we are going."
"Starkhaven," he answered matter-of-factly, an amused glint in his eyes.
"By sea?" she challenged.
He arched an eyebrow and walked back to her, crouching down in front of her. "We are sailing to Wycome, and will take a barge up the Minanter into Starkhaven," he explained, keeping his voice low.
"Wycome? So far? Why not Ostwick? The roads to Starkhaven from there are quite reliable," she commented, "at least, according to Varric."
His lips drew into a tight line as his nostrils flared. "Because the Coterie has a small but tangible presence there, and I will not do anything that endangers you," he answered.
"Oh," she replied softly, biting her lip. "Sebastian," she began, but hesitated as she chose her words. "I'm truly sorry for all of this mess, for this added trouble; you've already done so much."
"Lorelai," he began, but she rushed on.
"I know you have allies in Ostwick, I'm sure it would have been beneficial to call upon them. I'm very grateful to you," she whispered. "I cannot fathom how I shall repay you but…"
"There's nothing to repay, Lorelai," he interrupted, his tone harsh as he got back to his feet.
"Of course there is!" she protested. "You've done more for me than…"
"There is no debt, Lorelai," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing. "I have done nothing that I was not willing to do. You are my wife: your burdens are mine, as mine are yours; we are one now. End of discussion."
Lorelai looked up at him, her mouth gaping in surprise. She had not intended to draw his ire, she had in fact only wished to express her thanks, but instead, she had quite clearly angered him.
"I…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I wasn't questioning your intentions. I meant no offense, I only wished to thank you," she said explained.
He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, sending the usually combed back style blowing loose in the wind. It was longer than she had thought.
"Listen, Lorelai," he sighed in frustration as he sat down heavily beside her. "You did not offend me, forgive me if I seemed harsh," he stated. "I want this…I need this to be perfectly clear between us; I do not see you as a burden, or this marriage as a sacrifice!"
He settled his back against the bow and looked up at the stars. "I care for you a great deal, Lorelai," he confessed. "I want to be a good husband to you, and your protection is paramount to me. Don't thank me for something that is…" he hesitated as his eyes returned to hers, "…natural."
"Your Highness? Forgive me, but the captain is looking for you, ser," said a young cabin boy.
Sebastian's gaze held hers a moment longer before he stood and answered. "Thank you," he replied and followed the lad up a short flight of stairs to the top deck.
xXx
Less than a half hour later, Lorelai and Sebastian were shown to their cabin by the captain, a formal man by the name of Gerald Foster.
Captain Foster was clearly honored to have been enlisted to transport royalty, and his stiff but proud manner conveyed it. He bowed low to Lorelai when she had been introduced to him, offering an elaborate greeting; one clearly practiced.
He was well-spoken and seemingly gracious. As Varric had long ago taught her, she observed the contenance of the man's crew; each member seemed well-fed and groomed, although the grooming may have been a result of their charter. None had seemed discontent, or abused, all of which reinforced the positive impression she had of the captain.
The cabin boy, Eli, had bowed slightly as the she and Sebastian had entered, and once given leave by his captain had taken great care in explaining the features of the very fine cabin they would be using.
The cabin, which Sebastian had estimated would be their home for the next three weeks, if the weather was favorable, was surprisingly large and well-appointed.
As Eli and Captain Foster began to make their exit, the captain informed them that a hot bath would be prepared for their comfort.
"It's scandalous for such esteemed persons to be set upon by street thugs," Foster commented.
Lorelai looked at Sebastian and waited for his response. Clearly a story had been supplied here, and she would not sabotage Sebastian's efforts.
"We are most grateful for your willingness to set us off ahead of schedule, Captain," Sebastian answered in a regal tone. "Our honeymoon will not suffer for long, due to you and your crew's generosity."
"We are honored by your choice in us, Your Highness," the man replied. "Good evening to you ser." He bowed to both of them. "My lady."
The captain and the cabin boy left quietly, Sebastian walking them to the door, shutting it behind them.
"Thieves?" she inquired, referring to Captain Foster's comments.
"Thugs," Sebastian corrected.
"Ah," she replied, nodding her head. "Yes, well Kirkwall has gone to the dogs as of late," she continued. "Someone should complain to the Captain of the Guard."
"It would do little good," he quipped. "I hear she's hard headed," he teased with a chuckle.
They both shared the laugh and fell quiet, an awkward silence settling between them.
Lorelai cleared her throat, spying the chest she had recognized earlier tucked against the opposite wall. "My things," she muttered and crossed to lift the lid.
Inside was much of her clothing, her private journals, and the few items of her family's that she had not been prepared to part with. Her fingers ran lovingly over a favorite tome of her father's before she reached in to pull out a nightgown.
"Thank you, Seb, for getting this here," she said softly.
"Varric remembered that, actually. I will not steal the man's credit; he's a good friend to you," he replied.
She nodded and stood, turning toward the large, comfortable looking bed. "He's completely full of crap, half of the time he isn't sure where his stories end and the truth begins," she said with a laugh. "But he's amazing," she fondly agreed.
The nightgown was bunched in her hand and she held it up. "I'm just going to go, uh, change," she stated, gesturing to the corner of the room where a privacy screen hid the area for dressing and bathing.
"Aren't you going to wait to clean up first?" he asked, looking her up and down. "We are both rather disgusting," he observed.
Glancing down at herself, she self-consciously brushed at the gaping rend in her breastplate, the dried blood there flaking slightly.
"It's Orana's" she said softly, referring to the blood. "They shot her in the back, you know," she explained, not looking up from the destroyed armor. "The arrow drove right through her; if I hadn't been so antsy about our marrying I would have still been in my dress. I had changed just a few minutes before."
She closed her eyes and sighed.
"I'm sorry, Lorelai," he offered quietly. "We were uncertain which lead to follow and…"
"It's no one's fault," she interrupted. "Well, mine, perhaps, but certainly not yours or anyone else's."
"Hawke," he began.
"Look, Seb," she interrupted. "I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about anything right now," she said, shaking her head sadly, dashing away a tear. "Damn it! I hate feeling so…so weak!"
A knock sounded on their door and Lorelai scurried toward the opposite end of the room as Sebastian greeted the staff. Four burly men entered the room, each lugging overly-large buckets of steaming water. The lad, Eli, directed them to the small tub behind the privacy screen, and, satisfied with the men's compliance, reverently inquired when they should return to empty the bath.
"In the morning, Eli," Sebastian replied. "My wife is in need of rest."
"Of course, Your Highness," the boy replied with a bow. "Good evening."
The crewmen and Eli hurriedly left the cabin, the door closing silently.
xXx
Dawn broke and Sebastian greeted it from the top deck of the ship.
He had left Lorelai sleeping fitfully in the center of the bed, his mind still mulling over their first night together.
Last night she had bathed, and he had followed after she finished. He had been eager to behave as casually as he could with her, anxious to put her mind at ease.
He had replayed those few small words - the unintentional confession she had made regarding their marrying - as he washed, and he understood then that he had rushed them forward based on his own rock-solid faith in their path. He had not questioned marrying her, and he was shaken to realize that the certainty may be one-sided.
With a sense of sadness, he willed himself to accept that perhaps it would remain that way.
He had found himself, after he was re-dressed, lingering at the corner of the privacy screen, watching her as she slowly worked out the tangles of her long, wet, locks.
Closing his eyes, his memory savored her simple beauty, her relaxed posture.
He had never experienced that kind of intimacy with a woman, the kind which he would now share daily with Lorelai. His days before he had been given to the Chantry had been spent drinking and whoring; he had indulged in every erotic fantasy he'd ever had and had reveled in the profuse variety of women.
He never knew them, had not even asked some of them their names.
As he had observed Lorelai last night, he realized that he knew very little about what it is to know a woman; to see her unguarded, to know the meaning of her glancing looks, to know the desires of her heart.
Sleeping on the cramped chaise had not aided his roaming mind, and he had spent most of the night awake, wondering for the first time at the depth of the connection Lorelai and Anders had shared. These thoughts had left him feeling muddled and nervous.
He knew that Lorelai detested what Anders had done, that she felt betrayed, abused, and made the fool. He saw the pain in her eyes, her disconnection from them all, from him, but had he relied too heavily on her anger when he had pressed his suit?
Had he taken advantage of her trust just as Anders had? Had he steered these events to favor his desired outcome?
Was he no better than the man he loathed?
The pink and purple hues of the rising sun rioted together, the first rays of light sending columns of sparkling diamonds dancing across the calm waters. He heard the day crew moving through the ship, the day beginning in earnest and he left the top deck to return to their cabin.
A few minutes later he was turning the knob, and quietly re-entered, creeping across the room to the chaise he had slept on.
"Good morning," said a voice, and he looked up to see Lorelai watching him.
She propped herself up on her elbow, her chestnut hair surrounding her, and her eyes puffy from sleep.
"Good morning," he answered and bent to move the blankets from the chaise to the bed.
"So you're a morning person then?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep.
"The chantry has been making sure I was up at dawn for almost fifteen years," he commented as he folded the blanket.
"We have that in common at least," she said with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Well, not the chantry part," she qualified, "but the morning part. That's a good thing, right? We can always have a chance to speak before you are off to your princely duties," she finished.
He nodded slightly and felt her eyes watching him as he moved back across the room.
"I, uh," she began slowly, uncertain of his mood. "I was rather terse with you last night, Sebastian, I'm sorry."
"You have no need to apologize," he answered, not looking at her; instead, he busied his hands with opening his small writing desk. "Yesterday was brutal, and you didn't want to talk," he said as he placed the small desk onto the dining table.
He watched her push herself up from the corner of his eye, saw her pull the edge of her nightgown over her slim white legs, and he turned his back to her, swallowing hard.
"But we do need to talk, Seb," she argued.
"We will talk when you are ready to, Lorelai," he said over his shoulder, rifling aimlessly through the correspondence within the desk.
"I am asking to talk, aren't I?" she replied softly. "We have our whole lives ahead of us, a life together," she said pointedly. "I can hardly keep from wondering what that life may bring us."
"What do you want it to bring?" he asked, his heart beginning to thud.
He heard her sigh and the sound of rustling bed sheets. His trained rogue's ear heard the quiet pad of her approaching him.
"I want to be a good wife, and a good friend," she said with sincerity, arriving at his elbow. He was a good head taller than her and, without her shoes on, perhaps taller than that.
He looked down at her, scrutinizing her features. "You are my closest friend, Lorelai," he confessed softly.
She studied his aqua eyes and touched his arm. "So how do we begin?"
His eyes studied her hand, so warm against his skin. "You said last night that you were 'antsy' about our marriage," he admitted, struggling to keep the worry from his voice, but clearly failing.
"I didn't mean that; I…I didn't mean to imply that I was worried about you," she answered quickly. "It's just there's been so much happening, and I feel like I'm in the eye of a storm, watching everything swirl around me. I can't move forward because of what Anders chose to do, and I can't stay in place, because of what he did," she explained, shaking her head.
Her hand left his arm and she began to pace in front of the bed.
"I have been making my own decisions since the Blight, I've not had to depend on anyone for anything," she continued. "I looked after my mother, my uncle, my sister, hell, even Aveline sometimes. I fed them, I worked endlessly to provide."
She stopped pacing and placed her hand on the edge of the bed, toying with the coverlet.
"I've never needed rescuing, not like this," she muttered. "The Blight was nothing I could have stopped, nothing I could have controlled. But this…" she paused looking up at him, "…this calamity that my life has become, this I could have stopped. I could have listened to any of the warnings you, Aveline, Fenris, everyone gave me about Anders.
"This mess is my doing, Sebastian, I ignored everything, I chose this," she said in a brittle tone. "You asked me in Lowtown, when the chantry was destroyed, you asked me then, if I knew about his plan."
Sebastian's blood ran cold. "You said you didn'ae," he countered.
"Maybe I should have!" she answered. "Only a fool could have thought that piss and rock could somehow be a magical potion!" she laughed humorlessly.
He shifted his weight, uncertain how to proceed, what she needed him to say. Remembering she had said she wanted to have this conversation, he pressed on.
"So you knew he was gathering ingredients," he queried, fairly certain he didn't want the answer.
"Anders had had a rather public argument with a nobleman in the market of Hightown," she began. "I intervened, and Anders left the market very cross with me for doing so."
She sat down at the edge of the bed, drawing her knees to her chest.
"He didn't come home that night, and so I went to the clinic – I took the tunnel – and he was there, making up potions," she explained. "When I let myself in, he ignored me, and I lost my temper, stood in front of him, trying to force him to look at me, to speak to me," she said, her eyes distant.
"Then what?" he urged.
She closed her eyes. "He tried to move past me and I dug my heels in," she continued. "When I put my hands on his shoulders, Justice leapt forward in him, and things went…well, they went very wrong."
Sebastian moved across to her, anger at Anders surging through him. "Did he hurt you?" he demanded.
Lorelai gently shook her head. "No, at least, not physically," she replied. "But Justice made it very clear to me that he saw me as a hurdle to be cleared, and that the sooner he could turn Anders from me, the better their cause would be."
Sebastian sat down beside her on the bed, his body weight causing her to lean against him. Gathering his courage, he put his arm around her shoulder, quietly pleased she didn't flinch.
"When Anders 'returned' he was all apology and distress," she resumed. "He was overcome with sorrow and begged me to forgive him for losing control. We cried together, hating what had happened and he made love to me, right there in the clinic. It was awful and wonderful all at once."
Lorelai rested her head on his shoulder, not noticing the look of rage on his handsome face.
"A few days later he told me about a potion, a reference to something that the Tevinters had worked on, aimed at separating a spirit from a mage," she whispered. "I leapt upon the chance to get rid of that damned spirit in him! I practically ran to Sundermount."
"Oh, Lorelai, darlin'," he muttered, realizing the extent of the ruse Anders had created.
"He used my fears for him, for our life together to get the ingredients for his bomb."
She stood up and hurried away from him, the hurt and betrayal radiating off of her.
"It's not that I was antsy about you, Seb, it's that I was antsy I was blundering along again," she stated. "I'm drowning in the endless questions about the last four years of my life. I just…I just wanted to talk to you before we married, to understand your expectations, but we never had the chance."
"And now it's done," he said.
"Now, it's done," she whispered. "Sebastian," she continued, her voice strong once more. "Will you do something for me?"
He pushed off of the bed and moved to her side, catching her hand into his. "If it's within my power to do so, then aye," he said seriously.
"Don't lie to me - ever," she said. "I have no right to ask for anything more of you," she continued quickly. "You've sacrificed so much and I have little to offer in return, but please, don't try to trick me or hide things from me."
"Lorelai," he began, his hand leaving hers to touch her cheek.
"Please," she interrupted. "I will do everything I can to make this marriage work, to be the wife you need, to help you rebuild."
She shifted and looked up into his eyes, the intensity of her feelings unmistakable as he met her gaze.
"I would rather you tell me everything, even what I don't want to know, than be lied to again. Please?" she pleaded. "Politics, plots, mistresses, court gossip, any and all of it – can you do that for me?"
"There will be no mistresses, Lorelai," Sebastian said with conviction before his features softened and he sighed. "But aye, I promise you, I will not lie to you," he vowed.
"Ever," she reiterated.
"Ever," he promised and wrapped his arms around her, holding his wife close.
My boundless thanks to Lisa for her lickety split beta, she's like Mario Andretti with a red marker y'all, except she's a girl…and a Brit…and rides the bus…well, you get my meaning anyway! Thanks Lisa!
Allow me to also thank each of you for taking the time to read and follow this story. Not only am I grateful for each alert, review, and favorite, but the happy dance I do with each one is getting pretty fancy! Thank you!
