Chapter 34: Love
It was something of wild night in Lowtown.
Celebration was in the air, after months of fear and suspicion the citizens had something to be happy about for the first time.
IOI
Two days earlier, Ser Graydon Stark and Ser Avery Howell had stood in the chantry before Grand Cleric Elthina. All of the nobles had gathered in attendance to witness these two brave warriors marching off in defense of Kirkwall.
They had kneeled before Elthina as she had anointed them with holy oil, proclaiming them the shields of Kirkwall, and asking the Maker to grant them his strength, skill, and wisdom in the defense of their beloved city.
Ser Avery ate up the attention that he was receiving. For so long, people had looked at him with disdain, the one who held the leash of the Fereldan dogs outside the city.
Now…now the nobles of Kirkwall had to acknowledge him for what he was, a true nobleman, and perhaps…with Lady Bethany's aid…something more.
Stark was uncomfortable with the ceremony. He was a soldier first, he understood the value of morale, but this…this seemed unnecessary to him.
He had won no victories yet…
…emphasis on the word yet.
Everyone in Kirkwall assumed that his forces would march tomorrow, that they would leave the city with great fanfare. It was the illusion that both the Viscountess and Grand Cleric Elthina alluded to. It promised to be quite a show for the nobles…
Except that it was a show that would never take place.
Ser Stark and Ser Avery rode out of Kirkwall shortly after the ceremony, linking up with their men. Most were volunteers from the Ferelden refugee camps, but the core of Gray's officers were Tevinters freed when Solona defeated their Magister Hadriana.
Gray preferred to surround himself with these men and women. He trusted them. He had fought and bled beside them. They were loyal to both Solona and him, in that order.
Having people you could trust at your back was the only way to carry out a successful campaign. The Teyrn had taught him that, along with what could happen when you trusted the wrong person…
Loghain had taught him that too.
Howell had his people. There was no way that Gray was going to war without his.
He and the Tevinters had much in common; they had both found a home with Viscountess Amell. A home they had come to care for, to love.
Any of them would gladly die for it.
That night another of Baron Lafaille raiding parties had tried to attack one of Kirkwall's merchant caravans. The Kirkwall guard patrols had been on the other side of the wounded coast at the time, and would never arrive in time to save the merchant's and their goods.
It was by no means a small force, a little over a hundred men, including a dozen chevaliers on horseback.
The merchants played their part well. They drew the Orlesian Baron's men in; they no doubt expected an easy victory.
It was only when they were fully engaged that Stark and Howell's men struck.
The Captain of the Chevaliers had been the first to die, knocked off his horse by a charging Brunt. The man's helmet had fallen as he clattered to the ground. Before he could recover, Gray's warhound was on top of him.
Powerful Mabari jaws ended the man's life.
Gray and his Tevinter's targeted the chevaliers, while Ser Avery and his volunteers dealt with the pikemen and archers.
On the surface the battle went perfectly to plan. Had Gray been able to look into the mind of Ser Avery Howell he would know better.
Not everyone was pleased with this success.
IOI
Avery found his eyes drawn to Stark, his mouth twisted into a grim line.
It would have been so easy to end the man's life. Battle raging all around him, few would be able to prove if one of his Fereldans stabbed Solona's guard dog in the back.
Battle could be so confusing, all that blood and anger, all the pain and death.
Accidents happened in many such circumstances.
Sometimes they even happened for a reason.
Avery glared at Stark, the man he had come to see as his one true rival on the royal court.
Kirkwall would mourn the man's passing, and Ser Avery would take full command of the operations against the Viscountess's enemies. He would be able to prove himself, and gather more allies for when he decided to make his play for the throne.
It would have been so easy.
Howell shook his head.
Almost…too easy.
In the end, he resisted temptation.
Gray Stark was a skilled commander. That fool Loghain had trained him well. Under his command, Kirkwall would win many victories. Ser Avery would share in those victories. If the man was able to defeat either the Red Witch or the Baron, so much the better, it would be one less enemy that Avery would have to deal with later. Those victories would make them all legends. When their legend rose a little higher, Stark would die his warrior's death. Avery would have earned the respect of the men and the nobles of Kirkwall by that time.
Then…Ser Avery would be in a much better position to claim that he deserved.
What he knew was his by right.
A bride with Amell blood, and the chance to ascend to the throne, the Viscountess and her twins would have to be dealt with of course, perhaps the Qunari would do him a favor and eliminate her while he and Gray were out here dealing with Kirkwall's other enemies.
It would be for the best, he did not think that the Kirkwallers would accept a Viscount who had murdered his predecessor, but he would be smart about it. He would not turn into the power mad idiot that Death's Hand had become.
No, he would be smart about it and with Bethany at his side, who could oppose them?
At long last, House Howe would be right where it deserved to be, at the top of the world!
He thought of the Lady Bethany, the poor woman had suffered so much. He would do his best to ease her suffering, and give her the life that she deserved, that they both deserved.
She had had so much tragedy in her life.
It was a shame that she would soon endure more, but it was sadly necessary.
Sad indeed…
…but necessary.
IOI
Aveline Vallen made her way down the rowdy streets of Lowtown, word of Stark and Avery's victory was on everyone's lips.
Her mere presence checked the atmosphere; she did her best not to interrupt. She understood the value of letting off steam, as long as the people remembered that the law was still in effect.
The law was always there, even though the Captain found herself wishing she could be elsewhere, like out in the field with Gray and Avery.
The Guard Captain pursed her lips. As a career soldier, part of her wanted to be out there, fighting at Stark's side. She sometimes wondered if her skills were not being used to the best in this war. She liked being Captain, but she was a good soldier as well.
Kirkwall could no doubt use a few more good blades.
As she made her way through the crowd she heard all the rumors and gossip as those who had not been there debated the success of the battle.
Some said that the Baron himself had been a part of the battle and had been badly wounded. Another rumor was that the attack had been masterminded by Neria Surana and that the elf had fled the battlefield, frightened away by Shields of Kirkwall.
Aveline said nothing as she passed by, she understood the value of morale. Let the people celebrate this small victory, a trade caravan protected and seven chevaliers slain.
A minor skirmish it might have been, but as far as the people were concerned, it had been a major victory in the war.
Let the people believe that.
They deserved to feel good about themselves, and Kirkwall.
One battle did not win a war, but it was a start.
It was rare that the guard captain went on nightly patrol herself, but with the celebratory air of the city, she wanted all the guard out on the street reminding everyone not to get too out of control.
She could have stayed up in Hightown she supposed, but she had always liked the Lowtown route. She always felt this patrol gave her the best chance to do some good.
She found herself standing outside of the Hanged Man.
Aveline swallowed hard.
She…she had tried to remain true to her duties these past few months. She had rededicated herself to her guard, if her personal life suffered so be it.
Duty was tangible; it was something that she understood, something that had been drilled into her since her earliest memories sitting on her father's knee.
Duty endured, and it was far less messy than feelings…
…Particularly her feelings for Garrett Hawke…
She looked up at the Hanged Man and shook her head.
She had not been back in Hawke's estate since the morning he suggested that she move in with him. On the surface it made sense, until that morning, she had been spending at least three or four nights a week in Hawke's bed. In wasn't like the guard did not know how to reach her either, her lieutenants knew that she and Hawke were in…a…a…
Well, she was not quite sure what she and Hawke were doing. A relationship would suggest that they were sharing more than just pleasurable nights in his room.
Moving in together, that was a quite a step…
Hawke was a scoundrel, a charming scoundrel, but a scoundrel non-the-less. Lord or not, it did not seem fitting that she throw away her duties to a man like that, no matter how much she cared for him…
Aveline found herself worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
Maker…she was so pathetic!
She found herself thinking about the night that they had officially become lovers, the night of the Grand Ball of 9:32. He had been her escort for the parade of ladies, and after about an hour the two of them had found themselves upstairs in one of the keep's many guest rooms.
They…they had spent the rest of the night making love, it had been so…so…Maker…she had no words to describe it.
At the time…it had felt so perfect, and yet she still had walked away.
It was for the best, they both had their obligations, their duties.
She had tried to stay focused on that.
The Corypheus thing had not helped, once again she found herself fighting at Hawke's side. Fighting beside him, her handsome scoundrel, it had always seemed so right, so natural…
Sometimes it felt like she had been fighting at his side forever.
Aveline started to walk into the Hanged Man, but found herself frozen with fear.
What if he was in there?
What could she possibly say?
When Isabela had come back she had thought that Hawke would throw her off in the name of saving his former lover. The pirate queen had always been better at navigating the waters of the opposite sex. When they had discovered that Isabela was technically not Isabela anymore, she had expected Hawke to move the fade and the void to save his old friend.
The fact that he had not…was troubling.
So…she had broken away from him, waiting for him to move on to some new woman, waiting for him to forget about her so that she could go back to her work and forget all the doubts that he had caused.
Strangely, he never had…
Before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself walking through the doors of the Hanged Man. Raucous laughter and scent of ale and piss blasted her senses.
Corff nodded to her as he always did. The bulk of the taverns patrons gave her a cursory glance before returning to their conversations.
Aveline almost swore.
The Hanged Man was a hive of scum and villainy; she knew that every city needed an outlet, but…
These dogs needed to learn that the law was to be respected.
"AVEEE!"
A pair of tiny arms wrapped around her, with a speed far greater than she would have suspected. The smell of fine liquor almost made her gag.
"EET IZ SOOO GOOD TO SEE YOU AVEE! 'Ave you come for my name day?"
It was then that she found herself released; she glanced at the giggling figure standing in front of her.
"Ser…Serene?"
The bard giggled.
"Who else," she slurred, "Eet is so good zat someone remembaired my name day!"
She grinned and turned to the Hanged Man crowd.
"'Appy seventeenth name day to me!" she crowed.
The assortment of toughs, nobles and mercenaries raised their glances and shouted in response.
The elf grinned from ear to ear.
Aveline almost rolled her eyes.
"You're drunk," she said flatly.
The elf's ears twitched, she blinked her glassy eyes.
"Am I? Well…zat would explain zee slurred speech…Merci Avee."
The guard captain did not know what to say.
Maker's mercy! Where was Varric when she needed him!
The elf was his protégé.
Aveline managed a quick look around at the toughs and scoundrels here tonight. Many regarded the pretty elf with hungry eyes. A young girl that was this drunk was easy prey in places like the Hanged Man.
Aveline intended that the girl not become just another Kirkwall statistic.
"Come with me Serene," she murmured, "I have a name day gift for you."
The elf brightened.
"A geeft!" she exclaimed, "For moi? Oh, Avee, you shouldn't have."
"I know the guard captain said glaring at any toughs who might be getting any ideas about the girl. Once she had gotten Serene out of here, she intended to remind Corff that Serene was a favorite of the Viscountess…
If anyone hurt the elf tonight, they would answer to her personally.
The guard captain wrapped her arm around the girl's waist, she giggled as Aveline led her up the stairs towards Varric's room.
She did not trust any of the other rooms in the Hanged Man, Varric had a good strong double lock…
It was the perfect place for a drunken girl to sleep it off.
Serene gave her a warm smile.
"You are sooo nice Avee," she purred.
"Thank you," the guard captain sniffed.
All the cheer faded from the elf's face, she sniffled weakly.
"You…you are a truuue friend," she whimpered.
Oh Maker, Aveline thought, now the tears started.
"You're zee only one who came to my name day," she pouted, "Varreec could not even bother to come."
The elf sniffled.
"Can you…can you believe that?"
Aveline shook her head.
"Did you tell Varric it was your name day?"
Serene snorted.
"Why would I," she said indignantly, "Eet…eet is not like he cares about me anyway."
Aveline had just managed to wrestle the girl into Varric's room and close the door. The bard almost fell as she tried to make her way to the bed.
Aveline was there, catching her before she fell and hurt herself.
Serene held her in a bear hug.
"A true friend," she murmured, "Not like my Varreek. He doesn't like me."
Aveline sat the girl on the bed and helped her out of her boots.
"I'm sure that Varric likes you."
Tears began to roll down the girl's cheeks.
"But…but he doesn't," she whimpered, "He sees me as a child, an enfant!"
A string of Orlesian curses came out of the girl's mouth, Aveline tried not to blush, her Orlesian might be a little rusty, but there were some words that you never forgot.
"You should 'ave heard heem today," she groused, "I'll be gone to the keep all day today Ruby. Try to behave yourself. Like I was some child, or like 'Awke's bloody ma…ma…puppy dog."
The bard eyes radiated hurt. It was hard not to feel sorry for her. Even with a soldier's training.
"Lay down," Aveline soothed. The girl obeyed, her drunken mind so rattled that she could do little else.
She grasped one of Varric's pillows, pulling it tight against her chest.
"Why does he not want me Avee," she asked, "Am I not pretty?"
Aveline almost rolled her eyes.
Taking care of a drunken lovesick teenager was a little beyond her job description.
She promised herself that Varric Tethras would pay dearly for this evening.
"You're very pretty," she said trying to sooth the girl's wounded pride.
"Then why," she said with a pleading look in her eyes, "Why does my Varreek not want me? Iz it someting I have done?"
Yes, she would have to kill Varric for this, Lord Hand or not.
Serene yawned, the alcohol finally sapping her strength, if she did not pass out soon, Aveline would be surprised.
It would be better than the girl crying herself to sleep.
She covered the girl up; her strength was clearly fading fast.
The bard sighed.
"You are sooo lucky Avee," she sighed, "Awke is a wonderful man."
The Guard Captain's eyes widened.
What was that?
"I'm sure that Hawke has forgotten all about me Serene," the guard captain said.
The elf giggled.
"Non," she purred, "Not true, I…I know a secret."
She gave the guard captain a sly look.
"Would you like to hear eet?"
She nodded.
The elf leaned in close, so close that she could smell the honey liquor there.
"You must promise not to tell Aveline though," she said conspiratorially, "My Varreek made me promise."
Aveline nodded.
The elf yawned and lay back. She sighed, and seemed to be starting to snore.
Aveline pulled her upright, the bard blinked.
"Allo," she said dreamily, "What are you doing 'ere."
"What did you hear about Hawke," she demanded.
"Awke?"
The elf said sounding confused.
"Yes, you said you knew a secret."
The elf smiled slyly.
"You can't tell Aveline," she repeated.
"I won't. I promise."
Serene grinned.
"Awke's is sooo cute and nervous. He…he can't decide how he is going to tell her. How he is going to give eet to her."
"Give her what?"
The elf sighed.
"Zee ring," she murmured, "It is so pretty Avee, so very pretty… it…"
Serene hiccupped and fell on to her side.
"So…prett…tee…"
The elf began to snore loudly.
Aveline just stood there not sure how to respond.
Her hands clenched and unclenched, her mind trying to wrap around what she had heard.
Hawke…Hawke still cared about her, and…and he had bought a ring.
He…she… they…
The Guard Captain's eyes narrowed.
Damn you Hawke!
She stormed out of Varric's room, locking the door behind her. Serene would be quite safe locked up inside.
She stormed out of the Hanged Man, she barely had presence of mind to inform one of her guardsmen that she was feeling under the weather, and asking if he would finish her patrol tonight.
A pretty ring indeed!
After all they had been through, Lothering, the deep roads, and now this!
This could not stand. It would not stand!
She made her way up the stairs towards Hightown.
She needed to speak with Garrett Hawke, now!
He might not be glad he did!
IOI
She found herself standing before the door to the Hawke estate; she was having trouble keeping her calm. She knocked politely, though part of her wanted to break down the Maker damned door!
Did Hawke know what he had done, had he any clue?
She intended to let him know.
Bodahn ushered her into the estate.
Aveline tried to keep calm, but it was a losing battle.
A ring.
A ring.
A sodding ring!
"Aveline?"
Hawke stood looking down at her from over the bannister; he was dressed in his finery, violet lounging pants, and dark maroon coat.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"May I come up?" she said coolly. He motioned her forward and she climbed the stairs, he returned to his desk where he had been writing in his journal.
Aveline closed the door.
She turned to him, her eyes blazing.
How dare he!?
How could he even think…?
Hawke noticed the strange look on her face, he rose and approached her.
"Is there something wrong?"
She swallowed hard, trying to calm the emotions raging in her.
She wanted to tell him off! After over a soddening year she wanted to.
"Aveline," he said his voice so soft and warm….
"What is the matter?"
She finally found her voice.
"Y…Y…"
"What," he repeated, his brow furrowing with concern.
She grabbed him, throwing him hard against the door.
"Whoa there," he gasped, "What is this…?"
The guard captain was done talking.
Her mouth fell upon his like a hungry lioness.
Hawke gasped, but did not pull away; he wrapped his arms around her.
They remained that way for…for a time that neither could identify. When they did separate Aveline was crying.
"Yes," she murmured, "Damn you, Hawke. Yes. My answer is yes, damn you!"
She began to smother him with kisses licking and biting his neck and ears.
Hawke groaned.
"Aveline, what are…?"
"The ring," she moaned, between kisses, her hands tore away his coat, even as he worked on the straps of her armor.
"The ring Hawke," she sighed as he kissed up the front of her throat, "My answer is, yes!"
The rogue smiled, for him the guard captain's armor was familiar territory, he had wondered how fast he could get her out of it.
Oh well, he thought, no time like the present.
"Who told you?" he sighed.
Aveline did not respond.
That did not matter right now.
The rogue chuckled.
"Well," he panted, "this was easier than I thought; I thought I might have to…"
Aveline threw him down onto the bed, she yanked off his lounging pants a hungry look in her eyes.
For so long she had waited, after so many long and lonely months.
Finally he had done it.
Done the one thing she had both wanted and feared.
She was quickly out of her armor and in bed with the man she loved, her new fiancé.
It was such a tiny thing a ring, and an even tinier word, but one that could make everything right with the world.
The perfect word.
Yes.