BioWare owns everyone but Iain. I just do their laundry and try not to think about what I find in their pockets.
Rating Note: The overall rating for this story has been changed to MATURE. This will enable me to just write and stop worrying about accidentally exceeding the bounds of acceptable teen content. So from here on out, consider yourself warned. This chapter is especially smutty.
9:31 Dragon, 13 Drakonis; Gamlen's house, Lowtown
Can it really be only a month and a half since I was freed from indentured servitude? And three weeks since the last time I wrote in my journal. It seems so much longer than that. So much has happened! Macha has really become a part of my life... and I have never been more confused.
Since Macha and I began seeing each other, I have deliberately stayed close to home. I go to the clinic every morning to help Anders and reassure him that our friendship is as important to me now as it has always been. He is quieter these days, and less open with his affection, but I probably should have expected this. I remember how heartbroken I was when I finally realized that Anders would never feel more than friendship for me. Of course it would be hard for him to accept that I had stopped pining and moved on. Nor can I blame him for that petty selfishness. In his place, I would feel the same.
In the evenings, we prowl the streets looking to instruct the lawless, or send them to the Maker's side if worldly correction proves impossible. I hoped to encounter the thugs who attacked me, but with no recollection of what they looked like, I might never know if we succeeded. Once we purged the last of the gangs from Hightown, we repeated the process in the Docks. The gangs were less organized there, but we still beat them down one by one. We do nothing now but congregate at the Hanged Man and play cards. I feel guilty about delaying the inevitable, but I am not quite ready to plan a long journey. Not yet.
Apart from the afternoon we spent tracking down a shipment of "spices" for Isabela's friend Martin (Thanks, Isabela, I really needed that on my conscience. Still, a promise is a promise, and if folks could not get their poison from him, they would just get it somewhere else.), I spend my afternoons with Macha. Contrary to Isabela's revised predictions, she was no easy conquest. After our heady first afternoon together, it was three days before she let me touch her again, and then, it was just holding hands or chaste kisses that left me frustrated. Not that I minded, not really. Had she surrendered more readily, I would not have believed in the sincerity of her regard.
This afternoon, however, I went to the Chantry with bad news. I have obligations I can delay no longer, and one of them is a visit to the Bone Pit, a mine outside Kirkwall. The owner, an Orlesian named Hubert, hired me weeks ago to look into the disappearance of some miners. I postponed it as long as I could, but the trouble at the mines left the other workers too frightened to return. Time is money, I know, and without income for their work, the remaining workers are slowly starving in their homes. The trip would take me out of Kirkwall for two or three days, at least.
I found Macha on the Chantry steps.
"You look troubled," she said after a timid hello kiss.
"I'm going to have to go away for a few days," I said. "Work takes me out of Kirkwall, sometimes."
"You aren't leaving me, are you?" she asked, biting her lower lip.
"No, not at all," I assured her. "Let's go up to the gardens and I'll tell you about it."
We sat beside a flowerbed on a low wall and I took her hands.
"This is kind of difficult," I said, "and I'm not sure how I should proceed."
"Is there someone else?" she asked anxiously.
"No, nothing like that! It's just that you might disapprove of my employer. You said your father used to work in the mines, so you might have heard of him."
"Oh, that horrible man! He said that Father was drunk and that the accident was all his fault. Cut Father off without a silver."
"I'm sorry your family had to go through that," I sighed. "It seems that Hubert's become greedier with age. He hires none but Fereldans now. They're the only ones who'll work for what he's paying."
"And you're going to work in the mines?" she gasped. "Please tell me you aren't that desperate!"
"I am going to work there, but not in the way that you think. Some of his miners have disappeared and he wants me to find out what happened to them."
"It sounds awfully dangerous," she said, squeezing my hand.
"I'll be careful, I promise," I said.
"Are you going alone?"
"No, my brother is coming with us, and Varric and Anders, of course."
"I don't know any of these people."
"That's because you never want to go to the Hanged Man with me. I'd like you to get to know my friends."
"Some of Father's friends go there. If he finds out, it would make him angry."
"Well, if the Deep Roads expedition works out, I'll have a house of my own. You'll have no excuse not to meet them then."
"You keep talking about that. What is this expedition, exactly?"
"Varric's brother is organizing an expedition to the Deep Roads. I'm trying to buy into the venture. I'll be gone for a few weeks, but we'll be well-equipped and well-provisioned."
"Is your life always so dangerous?"
"Don't worry, Macha. I've survived worse. And when I do come back, I'll be rich."
"And you'll be careful?"
"Always."
"Would you... would you come back to the house with me? I want to introduce you to Father. It might still be early enough."
"Early enough for what?"
"Just... early enough. Unless you don't want to meet him, of course."
"No, I do. I've been looking forward to it."
That was a lie. The thought of meeting her sire was enough to make my guts quake, but it had to be done.
When we reached her house, I found out exactly what she meant by "early enough."
"Who's this runty blighter?" the old man slurred. He reached for the bottle in front of him and poured another measure of liquor into his cup.
"This is Iain, Father," Macha all but sobbed. "The one who saved Keran."
"You'll get no thanks from me, boy," he growled, tossing back his drink. "Botched the job proper, you did. If I had my legs, I'd have shown those bastards. Bet you told them to take his commission."
"We went through this before, Father!" she soothed. "He did all that he could."
"Bullshit, girl! Bullshit!" he roared. "Bah, I've had enough of your coddling. I'm going out. Make sure he's gone by the time I get back."
He lurched to his feet and staggered sideways before he caught his balance. Macha reached out to steady him, but he batted her away, muttering about bad knees and crooked carpets tripping him up. He walked out the door with the slow, deliberate gait of one who is pretending to be more sober than he is.
Macha sat down in the chair he abandoned and covered her face with her hands. I crouched down beside her.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," she wept. "He's been so... so angry..."
I put my arm around her shoulders and turned her face to my chest.
"There, there," I said softly, "it wasn't so bad."
"You saw what he's like!" she wailed, crying harder.
"It isn't your fault. It isn't his, either. People he cares about were treated unfairly and there's nothing he can do about it. He feels helpless. It's hard for a strong man like your father to accept that."
"He was strong, before the accident. He drank once in a while, yes, but nothing like now."
"Shh, shh, I know. He does the best that he can, and so must you. I see how you look after him. He's lucky to have such a devoted daughter."
"Do you really mean that?" she sniffed.
"I do. You're gentle and kind, and you're loyal. He's – oh!"
I was crouching too long. My knee gave out and I faltered, crashing to the floor.
"Oh, Iain, I'm so sorry!" she cried, jumping up and pulling me into the chair. "You should have said you were uncomfortable."
"I didn't have much warning," I lied. "But I can still comfort you here. Come. Sit on my lap and let me hold you for a while. You'll feel better."
"Are you sure?" she asked timidly. I nodded.
I expected her to sit sideways across my legs but she did not. She straddled my hips and sat facing me, her arms around my neck and her dress bunched up around her thighs. I swallowed. It was much easier to hold her this way, and I did, but it was also far too intimate for me to maintain any degree of detachment. She was still crying though, so I put my arms around her and prayed that she would not notice the bulge in my pants.
I continued to hold her and made soothing noises, but she wept on.
"What's wrong, Macha?" I asked.
"I'm worried about the future," she sniffed. "Father is getting older, and I'll have to marry someday, but with a father like that, nobody is ever going to want me."
"I do," I heard myself say. It was completely unplanned. I do have feelings for her, and I intended to confess them before we left for the Deep Roads, but this was too soon. I was not ready.
"You do?" she asked hopefully.
"I do," I said firmly. The words were out. There was no point in denying it now. "I care very much for you, Macha. It would take more than a troubled father to get rid of me."
"Oh, Iain!" She was weeping louder now, but her tears were not bitter. I kissed them away. Her lips sought mine, and there was nothing of sadness in the kiss that she gave me. There was passion, though. Far more than I was ready for. I held back for a moment, but when she started nibbling my throat, I let go of my inhibitions and pulled her tightly against my body. She responded by pressing herself closer still.
After several moments of intense kissing, I grew bolder. I raised my hands to her breasts and stroked her through her gown. Her moans did nothing but encourage me. I began to panic as she drew away from me, thinking that I had gone too far, but she merely unfastened my belt and let it fall to the floor.
"Macha..." I groaned.
"Hush, Iain," she whispered. "We need this."
She rocked back and forth against me, increasing and easing the pressure in a way that made my balls ache for release. My hands fell to her hips and I pulled her against me, letting her feel how completely I was under her power. Her eyes closed and she rode me, sliding up and down the length of me.
"Macha," I gasped, "you have to stop. I can't -"
Her legs closed around me and her whole body shuddered. It was too much. I no longer cared about soiling my breeches. It was too late to prevent it, anyway. I pulled her against me one last time and surrendered.
She kissed me again. I tried to return it, but I was fighting for air. I was wracked by the most delicious ache I have ever experienced. Gradually, it subsided and I was able to breathe normally again. More or less.
"Oh, Macha," I sighed.
"That was..." she began, "... intense."
I nodded, unable to describe what I was feeling.
"Are you... alright?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes," I said. "Just a little winded. I've never done anything like that before."
"Never?"
"No, never. You've got an inexperienced lover, I'm afraid."
"I'm not much better," she admitted. "I've gone that far before, but no further."
"We'll just have to learn together," I smiled. "When you're ready. However long that will take."
"I don't think I'll keep you waiting that long," her smile turned devilish, then her face fell.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know how much longer we have," she said. "Today, I mean. Father could come home at any moment."
"Come away with me, Macha," I said. "I don't want to say goodnight quite yet."
"I'd better not," she sighed. "I want to go with you, but I'm afraid of what Father might do if he comes home and finds me gone."
"He won't hurt you, will he?"
"No, he's rude, but not violent. And he isn't usually this bad. Not this early in the day. But you'd better go. Drunk or sober, he won't hurt me, but I'm afraid of what he might do to you if he found you still here."
"Alright, I'll go," I said reluctantly. "I'll come find you the moment I get back."
She kissed me at the door and handed me the belt I had forgotten on the floor. I walked back to my uncle's house a very confused man. Despite what I said to Macha, I knew that my feelings were not as absolute as I declared them to be. I do care about her, and deeply, but there is something missing. Something hard to define. With Anders, there is a sense of spiritual togetherness even if we will never be lovers, but I do not feel that with Macha. Perhaps it has something to do with the magic? I expect too much. Nine tenths of the universe is still very large. Most men are content with a portion half that size.
I paused at the door. A cracked stair tread broke underfoot, causing me to stagger to regain my balance and pulling my clothing tight against my skin. The wetness against my abdomen was pronounced. I looked down and groaned. I dirtied my smallclothes myself, but I did not expect it to seep through to the outside, and it looked as if Macha had been leaking fluid of some kind, as well. I took off the tunic and held it in front of me. If I could reach the relative seclusion of my bedroom, I could change my clothes and Mother need never know that her son had gained some experience at last.
Mother was not at home when I arrived but Carver was.
"Catch!" he called out and tossed a packet of parchment toward me. I caught the letter, but I dropped my tunic in the process.
"Maker's breath, Iain," Carver laughed. "Did you piss yourself?"
"No," I snapped and fled to the bedroom. He followed me. "Get out, Carver. I need to get dressed."
"Little hint, brother," he suggested, still laughing. "Wash that yourself before Mother gets home. Unless you like lectures about the responsibilities of fatherhood, that is."
"Hello!" Mother's voice called from the kitchen. "Iain! Carver! I need help with the groceries!"
"I'll take care of it," Carver chuckled and left the room.
His advice was probably worth taking, but there was no time to do laundry now. I stripped off my clothes and hid them under the mattress. Once I was dressed again, I went out to see if Mother needed any more help.
"I got to the market late today," she said, "so it's dribs and drabs for dinner, I'm afraid."
"We'll probably eat at the tavern tonight," I told her. "We're leaving for the Bone Pit in the morning, so we'll need to make plans tonight."
"Oh, very well... What happened to the clothes you were wearing this morning, Iain?"
At that point, I had a decision to make. I could tell her a little lie and say that I spilled something on them or I could tell her a big one and deny changing my clothes at all.
"This is what I was wearing this morning." I felt extravagant with my falsehood.
"Oh," she said, shaking her head. "Were you going to the tavern right away?"
"I was going to, why?"
"I think I did something to my wrist when I picked up the ham. Would you take a look at it before you go?"
My guilty conscience was just getting started when she held up her arm. Her wrist was slightly swollen, so it seemed that this was not an excuse to speak to me away from Carver.
"Go on, Carver," I said. "I'll be along in a moment."
Mother's wrist was only lightly sprained, but I healed it anyway and then put the groceries away while she told me about who she saw at the market. I was not really interested, but it kept her happy. At last, she gave me leave to go and I dashed to the tavern. I found my friends gathered in Varric's suite while Carver entertained them.
" - walked in smelling like the sheets at the Blooming Rose and with a wet patch right here."
"So, did he or didn't he?" Isabela asked. She had her back to the door.
"He says it's none of your business," I said.
"There's a lot of money riding on this, Hawke," she said. "Who wins if it's true?"
Nobody spoke. Varric pulled out a pocket notebook.
"Looks like Aveline," he said. I groaned.
"So tell us what happened!" Isabela goaded.
"No."
Bickering ensued. It went on for quite some time. I bore it as long as I could.
"This is ridiculous! You're betting on the most personal thing I could possibly do. How do you expect me to respond?"
"You could tell us and get it over with," Varric suggested mildly.
"Alright, I give up. I'm not sure what my status is. There was no nudity involved."
"So, you dry-humped her, then?" Isabela asked.
"Shut up."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Which makes it a 'no'."
This time, they debated the exact definition of virginity. I was still wretched, but as they were speaking in hypothetical terms, it bothered me marginally less. In the end, they decided to split the pot between Aveline and whomever claimed the week when my status could no longer be argued.
Varric consulted his notebook again.
"So, the only ones still in the running are Carver and Fenris. And Anders, of course, but at this point, I think the possibility that the whole thing will blow over without Hawke getting lucky is pretty remote."
"You, too?" I asked my cringing friend. "I thought you refused to be party to this?"
"Hawke, I -" he began.
"Don't say it," I interrupted. I stood up and addressed the table. "Anyone going to the Bone Pit tomorrow should be back here by midmorning at the latest. Pack well. We will likely be gone for two or three days."
I was angry when I left. Angry, hurt, and confused. I looked for some thieves to wreak vengeance upon, but I found only silence, even in Darktown. It was there my steps led me, all the way to Anders's picture window. The setting sun reflected red and gold from the waterfall. I froze it with a glance. Shards of ice stung my face.
"Iain?" Anders's soft voice breathed in my ear. He was beside me, and I never sensed him approach. I stepped away. "Don't sulk."
"I'm not sulking," I said petulantly.
"No, I see that," he smiled gently. "I am... happy for you and Macha."
"Is that why you wagered that she would leave me?"
"I should not have done that. A moment of weakness. And that wasn't the bet I made. I thought that you would leave her."
"You think I'm that faithless?"
"I think you're that kind. You can never be equals. I thought you would spare her the pain of loving someone who can never fully return her devotion."
"Like you did? You saw how much I suffered."
"It's not quite the same thing, but it's probably close enough. The point is that, despite the pain you felt before, you're happier now. She will be, too, once she gets past the initial heartache."
"And then what? I go back to sniffing your pillow and getting hard every time you say my name?"
"You sniffed my pillow? No, you'll find someone who can share all of your life, not just the parts between your thighs."
"She can share my life."
"Can you even cast a spell in front of her?"
"I never tried."
"I don't recommend it. Listen, Iain, I'm not asking you to leave her. I'm asking you to think this through. Can you really be happy when you already feel that something is missing?"
"What? I never told you that!"
"You did. Just now. When I told you that you will never love her as much as she loves you, you compared your relationship with ours. You never said I was wrong."
"You aren't wrong," I sighed. "Something is missing, but unless I stumble across a mage who happens to not be possessed by a Fade spirit, I'm never going to find that person, am I? I'll have to be content with the next best thing."
"That person doesn't have to be a mage," Anders said in that same patient voice. "They just have to be capable of truly understanding everything about you and accepting you as you are. No secrets, no illusions, good and bad alike."
"People like that don't exist."
"Your father found one. Talk to your mother. Tell her your doubts. Ask her if there was ever a time when she did not feel connected to your father heart and soul."
"How can I talk to my mother about something like that? Besides, how would she know if he felt a lack somewhere. Maybe he hid it from her."
"Like you do with Macha? Do you think she doesn't know that something isn't right? Besides, no one who has heard your mother speak of your father would believe that he did not love her absolutely."
"Maybe he knew the electricity thing," I grumbled.
"You don't spend twenty years as a fugitive with someone and give him three children along the way because he's good in bed."
"What would you have me do?"
"Search your heart. If you love her that much, can you really ask her to bind herself to you without knowing everything that you are?"
"Well, I'll have three days to think about it."
"This is true."
"Thanks, by the way. This was the first time I've ever been physically intimate with anyone and you had to ruin it."
He went to stand by the ledge, placing his hands on the sill and staring out into the ravine.
"Maybe I'm wrong," he said. "Maybe you will show her all that you are and all that you will ever be, and maybe she will still love you, magic and all. And then, when you do lie together as lovers, it will be a union of hearts, not just the friction of cloth against skin."
"Was it ever that for you?" I asked.
"I wasted my innocence," he sighed. "I didn't know what it was worth."
I stood beside Anders and put my arm around his waist. Mist from the waterfall clung to his cheeks. I grieved for him, to have to live with so many regrets.
"Your heart is still pure," I said. I doubted whether he could hear me over the sound of the falls. His lips moved, but his words were lost in the rush of water. I wanted to comfort him, kiss him, tell him how much love I still have for him, but I could not. Even if there were no Macha, he would not allow it. I held him tighter and we watched the sun set.
"We should go before it gets dark," he said. He took my hand and led me to the shaft that led to Lowtown.
So I lie alone in my bunk while Wallace plays "pounce on the mouse" with my feet and Peaches hunts rabbits in his sleep. I think about Macha and Anders and the doubts I still have. Am I doing this because I care about Macha or because I do not want to lose her? I do not ask for much. I want only a home of my own and an amiable someone to share it with. But then I think of Anders by the waterfall and how I yearn for him still. Is it unfair to want Macha to love me, knowing that my own heart will always be divided? Then again, is it really so wrong to feel that way? Macha herself said that she had gone just as far with another. Will a piece of her heart always belong to him? Perhaps it is just as well that we cannot see into each others' souls. We all have something to hide.