Thanks for the Reviews Zeden! You're awesome! Part of this is somewhat inspired by your Hawke's jealousy, Mwahahahaha! :D
…
It had all gone fine. They had a destination. Kirkwall. The city in which Mother had been born. Her family had an estate there. They would be well cared for, and perhaps eventually well rested. The Darkspawn they encountered were the wild attackers, foolhardy and mindless. Easily taken down. Then the Maker decided to smirk at them. Aveline Vallen and her blighted Templar husband. The woman handled herself like a born warrior, sturdy, muscular, and in a practical way, beautiful. Her husband was… ill. His pallor made it clear even as he fought the beasts of the horde. "Well, the Maker does have a sense of humor." Li'rae snapped, "Yeah, thanks for this one." She cast the comment towards the sky.
The children Hawke descended upon the spawn which harrowed the warrior woman and her man, shattering the creatures before they realized that the real threat was not the shield bearer but the fair haired mage. As she burned the last of the creatures to fluffy ashy blighty bits, the Templar advanced upon the easier of the two targets, Bethany. "Apostate! Keep your distance."
"Westley." The woman said quietly.
"It's a Blighted Templar. How- you two are cursed. Darkspawn and a bloody Templar! Eugh." Carver growled, gesturing at his twin, and older sister.
"Brother." Bethany admonished, "You were at Ostagar, and you call us cursed!"
"That was not my doing."
"Neither is this ours. Now hush. We can argue later." Li'rae snapped, inserting herself between the Templar and her sister, "Now you. You and I will speak, Ser Knight."
"The Spawn, at least, are clear in their intent to rip our heads off. A mage is never so kind."
"Well, I've never met a Templar who wasn't a colossal arse, so maybe we can put our labels aside for a moment and… try and live through the day."
"The order dictates-" He began, reaching for his blade with his off hand. Li'rae noticed that he kept the other close to his body. The armor was terribly dented, and there was blood, both black and red, spattering it.
"Love, they saved us… the Maker understands." He looked back at his wife, something resembling fondness and regret passed over his eyes. "Yes, of course."
"You are quick to change your tune."
"Rae, the nice Templar has been convinced to postpone his hunt for illegal mages. Lets not push it, shall we."
"Wise." Aveline whispered.
For a moment, Li'rae remembered Dean. A good man. He knew that while Magic exists to serve man, it was also a gift. 'Some creatures do well, when chained to others… birds of prey are generally not among that number. Hawkes… among others, should fly free.' He had said lightly touching a lock of her hair. Then her cheek. His eyes inscrutable. Then the moment was gone, and she was asking him, "Can you keep up? That wound looks pretty bad, my sister can-"
"I'm fine. I can keep up." He snapped, the undertone of his voice said there was no way in the void he was going to let an apostate work magic on him.
"Fine, stubborn mule." Li'rae muttered. "Follow closely, Templar, hang back with my mother during combat. Your sword arm… looks like a loss."
"He has mine. As always." Aveline looked at him fondly. Then at the orders, she nodded.
Then they were off, fighting what seemed to be the entire blighted horde, everything from hurlocks to genlocks and blighted arcane horrors! A sea of grey and black and green assaulted them, and then, the ogre came. An echo of Pride came into Li'rae's mind, only this terrible creature was hardly more than a beast, and he had horns. Nasty sharp poisoned horns. Li'rae saw it coming, Carver did too. He looked to her, to his mother, measuring the distance between them, "Mother, run!" He shouted, then, he attacked the beast. It grabbed him in its crushing paw, lifted him, and for a moment, everything stopped. Li'rae could see a ghost of what her father would have done.
He cast ice at the beast's chest, weakening it's grip, then tar at its feet, to make it slip, and stick. He flipped his staff and cast a force spell to the ground, lifting himself in the air, and swinging the staff around as it propelled him forward, to land on the beast's shoulders, blade in the beast's throat, casting a wicked lightning spell, then ice, then fire. Carver would fall to the ground, hit his head, and later wake with no worse than a headache.
The world unfroze, and without thinking, Li'rae found herself echoing her father's movements. The beast faltered as the ice hit its chest, it stumbled in the tar. She flipped the staff and propelled herself like a rocket at the creature's chest, it dropped her brother, and she charged it with every elemental spell she could think of, til it's body was naught but a bloody, ashen heap, unrecognizable as an ogre- actually somewhat resembling Pride. Li'rae would laugh at the resemblance when her family was safe, however.
Li'rae snapped the rest of the spawn in the immediate area with fire, and then realized that each of her companions was staring at her as though she had grown a second head. She looked to her brother, kneeling. "Carver, the battle is over. You should get up. There is no way I'm carrying you the rest of the way."
He coughed, opening his eyes blearily, "Sister?"
"Who else could snatch you out of the jaws of a hungry Ogre?" She jabbed him with her finger, "You should have known better."
"Well… better me than mother." He said weakly.
"Better all of us live than any of us die. Father would have killed you for that stunt. If it happens again, I'll kill you." She said. "Now hug mother before she has a panic attack."
She had been fretting on the side of the field, when he finally sat up, and smiled at her, weakly, "I'm alright mother."
She ran to him, thrusting herself into his arms, "Oh, Carver! I don't know what I would have done if- oh…" She cried, "My little boy!"
He gave Li'rae a dirty look, before comforting his mother for a moment… then the spawn returned, and their reprieve was ended. "Sister, I hope you have a plan." He coughed, thrusting mother behind his back, even as he drew his greatsword.
"Eh, um… wait for a dragon to roast them all, then bribe said dragon with cookies."
"What?" Carver turned to her, just then seeing the great purple behemoth swooping down, "I really hope you have those cookies, sister!"
"They don't taste especially good, but I did promise so I'll share." She said, fear making her lips loose.
"Well, for what it's worth, Hawke, I was glad to have met you." Aveline said, as the beast swooped and fired all darkspawn in the immediate viscinity, then grabbed one which still drew breath, and as she dropped the nasty thing, she turned into a most odd sight. "Witch of the wilds." Aveline whispered.
"Well hello, it's not every day we get visitors to the wilds, but now it seems they've arrived in hordes!" She chuckled at her off color joke.
"Eh, hi. I'm Hawke, the, eh, leader of this merry band of misfits."
"Sister." Carver groaned.
"Oh, right, don't overshadow you in front of the great dragon lady. Sorry Carver."
"You said something about cookies." The former dragon said in a whispy yet powerful voice.
"Oh, yeah, Tarian! My pack, could you bring the leather pouch in the largest section. It's right on top." The dog barked happily, and began rummaging. "So, who are you?"
"She's Flemith, the witch of the wilds!" Aveline said, now kneeling at her man's side as he rested. He wasn't looking so well.
"Oh? Eh, aren't you a myth?"
"Not all stories the Chantry forbids as superstion and myth are false, young hawk. Some ledgends live and breathe."
"Fire." Li'rae coughed.
Flemeth chuckled.
"You… you're an apostate?" Bethany asked quietly.
"Yes, just like you, and your sister."
"Mmmhmm, now, thank you Tarian, here are the cookies." She handed over the leather pouch.
Flemeth took the proffered gift with light hands, delicately unwrapping it, "Aah. These aren't bad."
"Mother made them. Say, I'd make you a whole bunch of them if you could get us to Gwaren."
"Mmm, they aren't that good, and sadly, my generosity is at an end." She turned to leave.
"Wait… I suppose we could agree to undertake some perilous quest in return, once we reach Kirkwall."
"Kirkwall? Hmm, as your luck would have it, I have business near there. There is a band of Dalish elves traveling to a region nearby, Sundermount, it is called, if you were to take this amulet to those elves and do with it as they say, I would call the debt between us cleared."
"How much trouble might this cause us?"
"About as much as I endured to save your lives not five minutes ago."
"You do have a point there." Li'rae said, "Well, I don't see how we have any choice. Give me the necklace-"
"Amulet."
"Sorry, the amulet and we can be on our way."
"I shall. But before we go anywhere, there is a problem which merits solving." All eyes turned to Aveline and her husband.
"No! He will be fine! They will not have you, my love."
"Aveline." He choked.
"They already do have him, dear lady." The witch said, dusting her lips of crumbs from the last of the cookies.
"No."
"If you have to leave me, darling, leave me."
"No! Westley, I swore I would drag you out if I had to. They will not have you!"
"Aveline, the corruption, I have- it is a slow death, I can't…"
Her face crumpled as she realized what he was asking of her, "No, Westley."
"What… corruption? The blight?"
"Yes."
"And the only cure happens to be some exotic mixture of death and daisies?"
"You are closer in your estimation, than you know." Flemeth said, "The only cure is to become a Grey Warden."
"And the last of them died at Ostagar."
"No, but they are now far beyond your reach."
Aveline was stroking her man's face, memorizing the blue of his eyes, the angular planes of his face, the broadness of his jaw. "I love you." She whispered.
"I can't decide his fate." Li'rae said, "But Aveline, I am with you."
Her face quivered, caressing her beloved's lips. "Be strong, my love."
She took his proffered dagger, and ended his life with a sharp stab to the throat, cutting cleanly. The blood. She would always remember the blood.
…
. .
…
Fenris paced in his dream, anxious. He awaited Hawke and Bethy. "Where are they." He murmured, "They are late!"
"Are they?"
The sword was in Fenris' hands before he could realize that it was Bethy's voice. "Apologies, Bethy. I am… particularly on edge tonight."
"Carver almost died today." Bethany said, "An Ogre was crushing him, then Hawke shot herself like an arrow, and charred the creature from the inside out."
His eyes widened. "No. Really?"
"Yes."
"Like an arrow?"
"Yep. Some combination of force magic and filial love shot her across a battlefield and straight into an Ogre."
"Into- wow."
"If it weren't the same look I wore when I watched it happen, I would tease you about your facial expression right now, Fenny."
His ears twitched, "Fenny?" He snapped, "What?"
Bethany shrugged, "You call me Bethy. I'll call you Fenny."
"No. I will return to calling you Bethany. 'Fenny' is not an acceptable moniker."
"You are hilarious." She said.
"I am not!"
"You are, Fenny."
"Bethany! Please stop calling me that."
"Fine, fine. Fenris."
"You do not have to stress… where is your sister?"
"Tending to our newest companion."
"Newest… You can't go two days without picking up a new companion?"
"Nope. This one's a red haired lady who could give you a run for your money with a blade. Though she uses a sword and shield, not a claymore."
"Lethendralis is not a claymore, Bethany. It is a greatsword, however it is unique. Crafted specially for my hand."
"Wow."
"My master was vain. He wished me to have a unique sword to strike fear into his enemies. If I killed someone, their bodies were marred in a way peculiar to that blade, so that all would know, and fear."
"Well, that was… dark."
"It was my life."
"But it's not anymore, Fenris. That hate… it's not healthy."
"Do you not hate the sickness which killed your father? Imagine it killed your entire past and bent you to the will of a man so depraved he-" Fenris caught himself before revealing his shame. His face was burning, stomach churning as violent feelings and images grazed his sanity, "I will speak no more on the subject, Bethany. Please have mercy and change the topic."
"Oh… well… OK… Ummm, we spoke to the Witch of the Wilds today, after Hawke saved Carver. She saved us in payment for cookies."
"That is too absurd to believe."
"Well, she also wanted a locket delivered to a Dalish friend of hers, near Kirkwall."
"You have got to be kidding me!"
"I'm really not, Fenris. I swear it."
"Cookies?"
"Mhm, and they weren't even all that good. Mother burned them."
Fenris could not believe his ears, "I can't believe that."
"Do you really think I'd make something like that up? It's ridiculous."
"You… She is… Hawke really is something, isn't she?" He asked rhetorically.
"Yeah. She's the best."
"Beautiful, strong, willful, and charming enough to woo a witch of the wilds with burned sweets."
"Ooh, sounds like someone has a crush on my sister."
"I do not! She is… admirable. That is all."
"'Beautiful, strong willful and charming' as well, though."
Fenris hid his blush behind his hair, and turned away quickly, "Bethany, please-"
"Oh, you're so cute when you're embarrassed!"
"You! Woman, do not try me!"
"You'd rather have my sister try you, ehy?"
"Bethany!" He scowled, "You are incorrigible."
"You know her name isn't really Hawke. I mean, it is, but that's not her given name."
"What?" He asked, momentarily distracted.
"Yeah, she has most people call her Hawke because she's the head of our family, just the same as they used to call father Hawke most of the time. Only close friends know her real name."
He blushed, "So she does not consider me a friend, after all we have been through?"
"Of course she does, she's just too bloody embarrassed to correct you. I'm not though."
"So tell me, what is Hawke's given name?"
"I'll tell you on one condition."
He sighed, long sufferingly, "What is it?"
"You have to kiss her when she shows up. Not on the cheek, a real kiss." She was grinning, almost giggling.
"I- no. I will simply ask her."
"Would you really? Brave man."
He growled, "Oh?"
"I mean, you're going to call her out o something that personal. Go ahead, but-"
"It would be less personal for me to force myself upon her?" He was angry, his words louder than they should have been.
She cocked her head, completely unafraid of the moody elf. "Force yourself on her? Like when I dared her to kiss you?"
"Eight months ago, and she has not repeated the act. Bethany… forget it. She will either correct me or not."
"She likes you, Fenny." Bethany said, "Thinks you're handsome. Admires your valor. I do not think you would be ill received."
"These talks are fruitless. Dreaming. It means nothing. Maraas."
"I don't know what Maraas means, but if it really meant nothing to you, methinks you wouldn't snap so hard."
He gritted his teeth, and remained in silence.
"No response Fenny?"
He blushed furiously from his chin to the tips of his pointy ears. "Silence, mage."
"Silence is what revealed you, Fenris."
"You… know nothing of me."
"I know you like her. A mage, golly gee, how surprising. You're practically infatuated."
"You are being cruel." He said quietly. "Hawke has not told me her name because she does not wish me to know it. Leave the matter be."
She frowned at him. "Why, then was she smiling when I woke her last night, while you spoke."
"She is a happy woman." He guessed.
"She talks about you, mostly just when we're alone, because the others wouldn't understand. She blushes, and remembers your words like fresh scented petals."
"You are being cruel, Bethy. Please, cease this. It is pointless."
"If you kiss her tonight, you'll know for certain."
"I already do know. Thank you for your hopes, but I know better."
"I've known her twenty years longer than you have, Fenris. Maybe you should trust the cunning mage?"
"You could be a desire demon, playing on my trust of Bethany. I will not succumb."
She snorted. "You know who I am, if you'd thought even for an instant that I was something else, you would have struck at me."
"True." He smiled. "Please leave the matter be, Bethany."
"Fine. You're a stubborn one."
"So I have been told." He said, "It is… gratifying to have the option to be stubborn. To be able to refuse is a pleasure nearly matchless."
"Really?"
"For a slave, refusal meant pain. No one volunteers for pain… at least, not willingly."
"What?"
He looked at her askance, "I… would tell you a story of my past, in return for her name."
"Would I ever hear the story otherwise?"
He grunted, "Not from me."
"Hmm… Seems a fair trade."
"The name?"
"Li'rae Teleri Hawke."
"Li'rae Teleri?"
"Teleri is her middle name."
"Ah, so her given name is Li'rae."
"Yep. Most of us just call her Rae."
He smiled, thinking of sunshine, and meadows. "It fits."
"I call her Rae Rae, and she calls me Bethy. Carver is Arvie. He hates it though." She giggled.
"Arvie? I think I'd hate it too."
"Yours is Fenny!"
"No it isn't."
"Yes, it is! It's what I'll always call you, at the very least in my head and in private."
"I… can not stop you." She stuck out her tongue at him, and he cringed. "You are a strange woman, Bethy Hawke."
"And you have a crush on my sister. Now, to the story!"
…
.;.
…
"Two years past the beginning of my memory, Danarius bought a little girl. She was to be a maid or a gardener or something of the like when she grew up, but for now she was a nuisance. Always here or there, bustling about like a mad thing with no place to actually go." Fenris smiled, "She was very tiny. Hardly more than a babe. She called me Fen-Fen, after a while because she couldn't seem to figure how to say the rest of my name. Sometimes she would just… stutter Fen- Fen-Fen for minutes before I responded. She would show me things, like forgotten food stuffs, or mistakes made by less important guests. Observant thing. I came to care for her."
"Danarius saw this and noted it. He allowed her to become my shadow, following me wherever it was safe for her to follow… My master's apprentice noticed as well, and she would have used the girl against me, had Danarius allowed it. He did not. The girl was his tool. His poignard for my throat. Eventually, he made it known that if I ever displeased him, she would suffer. I made a point to avoid causing her any pain at all. Around eight months after I had taken to her, Hadriana called me to perform… acts which I could not… stomach. She threatened the girl. Danarius backed her. I had to choose between bleeding one child dry, or watching my small friend be bled. I did not choose… quickly enough. They were both sacrificed to the Maker damned ritual. I was beaten for failure to obey, and made to watch anyway. I still hear their screams." The last words were quiet, almost less than a whisper. "Danarius held that I volunteered for that agony through an unwillingness to sacrifice what was necessary."
"Maker, that was awful." Li'rae said quietly, startling the elf and mage. "No wonder you hate mages."
"I-" He blinked, "No, I only hate weak mages that is, those who succumb to demons, for want of power. Danarius and Hadrianna fall into that category. You do not."
"Thank you Fenris. That means a lot from you."
"I say it often enough."
"Still, it's nice to hear, especially with that voice of yours."
His cheeks burned, "I-" he coughed, "I- well, I-"
"You're really cute when you stutter." Li'rae said with that grin on her lips.
"I-"
"Yes, Fenris. You are."