Chapter 13 - Shock Not Awe
A/N Well folks I'm back. Yay! I have spent a large part of my time playing - and I must say loving - Dragon Age Inquisition. I've my first play through out of my system so managed to write another chapter. Its got a few twists, something that I'm working on, and I will try to get the next one up ASAP, but I hope you like.
Curiosity is mostly a positive quirk, of course only when you don't find yourself swamped in trouble at the end of it all course, and Hawke was by nature a little curious, which is why she found herself standing in pure puzzlement after checking a small pile of bags which had been left by the front door.
It wasn't until after realising she recognised a familiar slightly warn tunic neatly folded and placed on top of one of the bags, her heart missed a beat and stupid, silly thoughts had run through her head.
Standing there for a few moments more, replaying the beautiful, unexpected and heartfelt words Fenris had spoken to her earlier her heart kicked back into normal rhythm. She knew he wouldn't leave her - not after all he said - she knew that to the very depth of her soul, but it still hadn't prevented random thoughts entering her head like they had. So she pushed the errant thoughts out of her mind and went in search of her other half.
Stepping out into the small, neatly tended stone-walled courtyard just outside that Fenris used for training, although gloriously filled with sunshine at this time of day, she found it was bereft of one lanky elf so went to check the kitchens, but Orana had no idea where he'd gotten to either.
After another few fruitless minutes, there was no sign of him anywhere. Not worrying all that much, okay maybe just a little as he hadn't mentioned going out at all, she also felt frustrated that her curiosity would for now, remain unanswered until he returned from wherever he had gone off to.
So with a grumpy huff she went to console herself with some tea and a bit of decidedly sinful walnut cake - maybe she'll have two slices.
The estate itself was kept in a very neat condition, with nearly all the thanks going to Orana and Bodahn, as Hawke did try to tidy up after herself, but sometimes her mind would be preoccupied so she wasn't as neat as she wanted, and after spending a few minutes putting away laundry, making the bed and shuffling papers she found herself at a loss for something to do.
After all, Fenris had said that he had wanted to go visit Gamlen with her, but he wasn't here, and she was beginning to feel a little bored.
Spying the as yet undelivered letter on her desk and after a second of contemplation, she made her mind up, thinking to herself "I can post this and at the same time see what that uncle of mine wants." Snatching the heavy letter off the desk, she makes her way out of the house, picking her staff up along the way, only just remembering to shout out to Orana that she was going to post a letter then head on to Gamlen's, and if Fenris wanted to join her later he was most welcome to.
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After the Qunari attack, everyday life in the markets and most residential areas of the city had gotten back to normal, well as much as it could for some.
Though after one particularly brutal attack where an entire family had died, what was left of their home was eventually knocked down and a small garden planted in its stead, along with three benches where people could come and either pay their respects to the family or sit in contemplation and grieve for their own losses if need be.
It had become something of a small memorial garden, where someone had donated a small, delicate statue of Andraste holding a small brazier and the flame tended by a sweet old man Hawke spoke to often, but had never learnt his name.
On this rare occasion, the place was empty and Hawke sat down on the nearest seat, as she did absent-mindedly noticed a small vine like purple flower growing up the side of the bench, she knew what it was but the name escaped her.
Deciding to take time and enjoy the lovely day, Hawke closes her eyes and sits back, offering her own prayer asking that He watched over her extended family and that they could be all kept safe, she couldn't think of not having any of them by her side and would always fear for them.
Hawke was not an idiot and knew deep down that the fragile peace this city had found would not last, not with the mages and templars at each others throats on a nearly daily basis.
There was a restlessness in the air, like the city was holding its breath or something - that's how it felt to her at least.
With a resigned, weary sadness with the niggling feeling that something big was on the horizon that would change all of their lives - but not knowing what, she finished her prayer as she placed her hand on her stomach she hoped with all her being that this little one would be brought into the world safely. "Well for one thing your father and I will fight to protect you, so would everyone else for that matter."
She imagined a baby girl and in a flash Bethany came into her mind and an ache washed over her as she thought about her dear, beloved sister. Beth would have loved the prospect of being an aunt, would have revelled in the news that there would be a child to play with and to teach things to.
Just another loss she'd had to endure - when Bethany had died she had felt so guilty, would have done anything to switch places with her, but that was when the rawness of her sister's death had been so new.
In fact, her wilful disregard for her own life had been the thing that brought her and her mother together again.
Having been treated for injuries after a trip to the Wounded Coast, Leandra had chastised her for not taking more care of herself and that had resulted in an argument that had, unbelievably cleared the air.
After the Deep Roads, Hawke had distanced herself from her mother, mostly out of guilt but also the fact that as the oldest child, she had responsibilities to care for her family and, with Carver gone, yes they had money now, but she had failed to protect him, and knew her mother blamed her.
Or rather thought the blame lay with her, but the argument had forced them to finally talk to each other and in the tear filled hugs that followed they had again became close. The time they spent together was one of the things that Hawke treasured, but she just wished they'd had more time as it had been far too short, but then again, no amount of time would have been enough.
Snapping out of her musings, she glances down at the thick letter in her lap, turning it over and thinking that it wouldn't post itself, she gets up and makes her way into the market, waving at Worthy in greeting and stands at the back of the small line outside the messenger depot, pays the too high price for first class messenger and arranges for notification upon delivery, sets off down into Lowtown towards Gamlens home.
Remembering with a shudder the cramped bedroom she used to share, and the rather weird smell of cabbage, that was always pointed out to her, she knocks lightly on the door and doesn't have to wait long before its opened hurriedly, with Gamlen peeking through the dark gap. "Oh, Natalia, I was wondering when you'd get here - you certainly took your time!"
She let the comment wash over her as she knew how snarky he could be, it was just his way and there was no point in a retort as he would just get grumpier, so putting on a fake smile she replies "So happy to see you too, you going to let me in?"
He immediately opens the door and ushers her in and after shutting the door he turns towards her, but before they both can say anything further a heavily accented voice speaks from somewhere in the darkened corner of the room "Well, well - welcome my dear."
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A month later...
Walking along the dimly lit main hall, with the weight of history baring down on him from the huge commemorative tapestries adorning the high stone walls in so many colours, some vivid and others faded with time, the minutely and often gory detailed scenes of battles long past, he speeds up his pace trying to get out of there as soon as possible.
They never failed to send shivers down his spine those things. He was all for celebrating glory when achieved, but as the once teaming halls were now barely filled, save a few hundred brothers and sisters in arms, reality was most definitely different to hearsay.
For some stationed here - including himself, the monuments and trophies were now seen as merely echoes of what the Grey Wardens once were and he felt like he lived in a museum with all the unused axes, swords and shields hanging off the walls, not to mention the huge ogre horns and other bones on display in glass cabinets.
Instead of feeling triumph at being part of the Grey Warden legacy, he felt disheartened, especially with the non-existent First Warden barely showing his face to any of the new recruits, if at all. Wasn't he meant to visit and see his subordinates in action, to perhaps take a more pro-active role teaching or at least boosting morale instead of never being here?
Wearily he made his way to the main banquet hall, his gleaming armour clanking with each step. After spending most of the morning and afternoon training his third batch of raw recruits he just wanted food and then bed, in that order - and soon.
That was one thing that kept him sane - the training, and by all that was holy he would drill the soft whelps into something his mentor Stroud would be proud of.
The shouts could be heard before he's even reached the door and as he opened it the raised voices get even rowdier. Ah, he grimaced, Benson was at it again - trying to drink Frye under the table whilst everyone else was just "helping" them along and rather loudly too.
There were around 20 or so bodies at the table, and as soon as Frye spotted Carver she nearly choked on her ale bellowing "Hawke! Nice of you to join us you Ferelden dog!" Trying to raise her mug at the same time and nearly losing her balance.
This was what helped him not become too homesick, the close bond every one of them shared made it all seem worthwhile - this was what being a warden meant, to know that you could die defending the lands from Darkspawn, that together you faced uncertainty meant they were family, not just friends.
Currently it seemed that their goal was to get totally drunk, so he smiled and waved, and after hefting a lot of food on his plate he joined the large group trying to balance his plate as they jostled him to a gap made for him on the bench so he could sit down.
"Frye - its lucky for you we burn that ale off so fast you won't feel it in the morning!" Amongst a mouthful of chicken, gravy and potato. She laughs loudly and passes him his own drink, which he takes gratefully, sighing into the full mug of ale he resigns himself to his fate - he was in for a long night.
A few hours after the early evening meal had started and the drink was flowing steadily, the noise level had risen if that was possible, but they all turn towards the main door as it opens widely, and a hooded elf runs in clutching his post-bag. Half of them cheer as they've been looking forward to the post.
Carver smirks as he's the first to get a rather battered heavy letter and he knows it's from his big sister and moves away from the main group holding it aloft as they jokingly make to grab it from his hand. Yes it is from Natalia as he would recognise her bold looping writing anywhere and as he rips the wax seal open he manages to catch the large coin purse which falls out and looks at it in wonder. "Hey Hawke, what you do to get that!" Someone shouts over to him.
"Nothing - it's from my sister!" he replies with a massive smile.
"Can she adopt me?" Comes the loud slurred response. Several others shout their agreement and other adoption requests follow, one offer of marriage even.
He starts to read the letter and blinks as he reaches one particular line. After a few seconds, the smile completely vanishes from his face, replaced by a look of barely contained anger and with a loud shout of "WHAT?" he staggers over to an empty bench and slumps over banging his head on the table.
Filled with concern, Frye herself wobbles over to where he's sat and quietly asks Carver "Hey mate, what's up?" to which he holds the letter up to her without lifting his head. She takes the parchment from him and hears a muffled "Read it. I can't believe it...I'm. Going. To. Be. An. Uncle." He spits the words out as if he still can't process the words written on the pages.
"Yep my friend, you really are - hey it's not such a terrible thing is it?" Patting him heavily on the back.
Carver looks up at her and says "Not sure - need to think...she's not married you know...Maker help that bloody elf if I - no when I - get my hands on him. Need to speak to the boss" His head thuds back on the table heavily as at that moment the drink and the shock catches up with him and he passes out.