Our Ghosts Are The Same

Dragon Age 2

Chapter 14: Meddling In The Affairs Of Dragons

A/N:Sorry, for the late update. New job and all that. And maker, I'm curious to know what pairing people are expecting to see here because honestly it could go any way at this point. Would be curious to hear everyone's feedback.

Also, 100 followers!

Taking on the dragon on their own was starting to seem like not such a good idea to Hawke. She voiced this aloud as the mother dragon's offspring swarmed from several small cavern openings along the walls.

Aedan could not have disagreed more. As much as he had tried to keep from being stuck behind a desk at Vigil's Keep, some days had to be spent indoors, pouring over maps and logs. He hadn't fought a dragon since...to the Void, the last one he had taken down had been when Anders had still been a part of his team. And that had been years ago. It wasn't as if he had many years left, thanks to Duncan's parting gift. Not only did grey wardens have to spend their days in stinking pits and caves, fighting rotting man-beasts, but they also only had thirty years to live.

Best not to think on that now. Aedan had several giant lizards and a sarcastic mage to contend with.

He's used to fighting with a mage, Hawke couldn't help but notice. Aedan circled around her, keeping the largest of the drakes away from her and allowing her to take them out at a distance. He also seemed to sense when she was running low on mana and shielded her until she was rejuvenated fully. It was a nice change from having to run in circles until she regained enough mana to stand and fight.

It was also different from fighting alongside Fenris, who was trained to fight for a mage, not with one. But that had been Danarius's fault.

Still, the two of them weren't perfectly in sync. Twice now she had accidentally been shoved aside by Aedan's shield as he moved past, but she was almost certain it wasn't personal.

When they got a slight break by dashing away from the man-eating beast and ducking behind a large rock formation (that Hawke had to mention looked like a certain part of the male anatomy), Aedan asked her, "Do you regret this yet?"

Hawke stared at his bleeding and dirt smeared face and then looked down at her own filthy hands. "Not for a second."

"Not even when you tripped and that drake jumped on you? You shouted, 'whoops-a-daisy'."

"Nope. Not even then."

"Really?" He seemed skeptical. "Those might have been your dying words."

Hawke grinned and moved out from behind the rocks, having realized the dragons had caught up to their scent. There were still half a dozen of the dragon's brood and the dragon herself to deal with. She shouted over to him, sending ice in an arc around her, "I'm sure you would have told them that I had died saying something much more clever and heroic."

"You have a lot of misplaced faith in people, don't you?" Aedan had moved out as well, his shield thudding up against a dragon's lower belly as it reared up on it's back legs.

"Had a Lot of Misplaced Faith In People could be the title of my autobiography. That I'm sure Varric will write for me."

Aedan didn't answer that. Instead he focused on taking out the rest of the dragon's brood so that they could focus on the big bitch herself. He moved quickly around the dragon, half spinning to dodge the dragon's teeth as she snapped at him.

The dragon had sustained only minor injuries., but without her dragonlings underfoot Aedan was sure he and Hawke could change that. Aedan darted underneath the dragon, a dangerous position but the quickest way to reach the dragon's soft underbelly. While he focused on hitting the dragon where she was most vulnerable, Hawke ran in circles and distracted the lizard with elemental spells and bombs she tossed haphazardly in the dragon's direction. One of her bombs landed too close to Aedan's right and he was thrown against one of the dragon's hind legs by the explosion. His right ear was ringing as he staggered about and sank his blade into the dragon's stomach. And that was where it stayed. The dragon decided Aedan had become more annoying than Hawke (which was quite the feat in Aedan's opinion) and was now doing her best to squish him into non-existence. Abandoning his father's sword, Aedan dove out from underneath the dragon, barely escaping what would have been a most embarrassing death by getting sat on by a dragon.

Now mostly weaponless, Aedan pulled out his hunting knife and tried throwing it the way Zevran had taught him. It merely bounced off the dragon's thick hide and fell to the ground. Thinking back, he wasn't sure why he had thought it would have been effective in the first place. Cursing he stepped backwards and searched desperately for Hawke. Luckily for him she had seen the dragon go after him and was already making her way to him.

"That was a nice try," Hawke observed with a tired laugh. Damn it all, she had used her all of her mana trying to keep the dragon's attention away from Cousland.

She suddenly grabbed Aedan's armored arm and pulled him to the left as the dragon sprayed flame their way. "Shit." She ducked down as she continued to lead them out of harm's way. Hawke glanced at him, expecting to see some sort of battle plan forming in the warden's eyes, but instead she found his eyes and hands to be empty. "Uh, Cousland, where the fuck is your sword?"

She was surprised to see him flush pink in irritation. "Right now? It's stuck in that bloody lizard's belly."

"Then what do you suggest we-"

Their little rendezvous was interrupted; the dragon had found them again. Hawke made a snap decision and shouted ever so bravely, "Fuck it, run!"

She and Cousland barely avoided becoming roasted champion and warden. Running saved them for a few seconds, but it wasn't long until they found themselves backed up against a cavern wall and facing the dragon head on. Smoke flared from the dragon's nostrils and the lizard lowered its head down to the mage and the warrior's level.

Just as Hawke gripped her father's staff, preparing to spear the dragon in its open mouth, Aedan wrapped his own hands alongside hers and helped her thrust upwards. They speared the dragon through the roof of its mouth, but missed anything vital. Aedan grunted and tried digging the staff in further. "Hawkling, you can electrocute this dragon any time now." The dragon inhaled deeply which Aedan knew meant the beast would be spitting fire soon. "Hawkling," he repeated with a grunt.

"Out of mana," she gasped, struggling to keep her staff from being wrenched out of their hands.

"What?"

It was starting to get warm, Hawke couldn't help but note. Aedan was yelling at her again. "It's going to breathe flame at us, do something."

Shitshitshitshitshit. Hawke let go of the spear and placed one hand gently on Aedan's chest. "I'm very sorry about this." Before he could respond she took part of his life force, feeling his pulse quicken as she used his blood to fuel her next spell. It was odd, his blood responded so well to her spell, it was almost as though this was routine for him. Whatever the reason, Hawke was able to send enough electricity through the dragon to fry its brain. Seconds before death the dragon reared up, taking her staff with it. Aedan ended up having to tackle her to get her out of the way as the dragon came back down, nearly getting her final revenge by crushing them to death as she died.

"Get off me," Aedan barked. He had rolled them out of the way and thus Hawke had ended up on top.

Hawke squirmed and half-laughed, still breathless. "What? Don't like being the bottom?"

Aedan merely gripped her shoulders and tossed her off to the side. "Not when the person on top doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

"Ouch."

Sitting up and trying to brush dirt and goo he didn't really want to identify out of his hair, Aedan briskly brought up the elephant in the deep roads. "So...was that blood magic back there?"

Here it comes. The hero of Ferelden is about to slay Kirkwall's champion for being a maker-damned blood mage. If it actually came to that at the very least she could probably outrun him, seeing as he was draped in two tons of armor. Hawke had wandered over to the dragon's though dead, still quite terrifying jaws and was working on pulling her staff out of its brain. She worked in silence for a few moments while Aedan tapped his foot impatiently behind her. Maker, he could be such an Oleasian diva sometimes. Though she supposed blood magic was not a topic that could ever be taken lightly. Without turning around she answered softly, "Yes."

She could almost hear the shrug in his words. "Okay."

"What?" Hawke whirled around, her staff still stuck in slowly decaying lizard flesh. "Did you just say 'okay'?"

Now she could see his shrug. Aedan said simply, "I'm a reaver." As if that would explain anything.

Her snarky reply left her before her brain had time to check it. "And I'm left-handed."

Aedan's reassuring smile seemed forced. "No, it means my body is used to converting blood into energy. I do something similar to your blood spell myself during battle quite often. Only difference is I'm not a mage. I suppose we've found something in common, as terrifying of a concept as that may be." He paused then. "So unless you're sacrificing virgins or using the blood of the innocent..."

Her head shook violently. "Only my own. And from those who are trying to kill me. And, I guess, from you." Hawke had gone back to trying to dig her staff out, desperate for something to do to relieve the sudden tension in her gut. "Hey, Muscles, can I get some help over here?"

"Muscles?" He snorted contemptuously, but he walked over and helped all the same.

At such close quarters Hawke felt comfortable enough to tell him, "They don't know." When the warden didn't reply, he simply paced a boot against the dragon's skull and started tugging on the stuck staff. She tried again. "My friends. They don't know-"

He cut her off. "I get it, Hawke. I won't say anything. And, here." Aedan handed the now freed staff off to her. "It's going to need a cleaning. And probably resharpening."

"Thanks," she nodded solemnly. She still felt the urge to vomit despite Cousland's promise. It wouldn't surprise her if she woke up the next morning in the Gallows. Maker, she couldn't imagine how Anders would take that. He and Justice would probably tear Kirkwall apart. Hawke didn't think the mage would ever believe she was ever involved in blood magic, no matter what his former Commander claimed. Or so she desperately hoped. "For this, and, you know."

"I know." He was obviously distracted. And totally oblivious to the minor panic attack she was having. "You haven't seen a sword sticking out of that dragon, have you?"

The two of them were interrupted by a large chorus of armor clattering and hushed battle cries. Aedan, momentarily over his lost sword, smirked. "Looks like the cavalry is finally here."

Was he surprised that the Ferelden apostate turned champion was a blood mage? Not particularly. Did he care? Not particularly. Hawke was the type to turn to blood magic only when it meant survival. He sincerely doubted she was up night summoning the dead and forming packs with demons. No, he guessed her nights were filled with heavy drinking and passing out on tavern floors. But, again, that was just a guess. The proper thing would be to inform the Chantry; at the most he'd watch her carefully for any suspicious behavior.

At any rate, his wardens and the champion's friends had caught up with them. A blessing, since he needed help finding his family sword. If it was underneath the bloody lizard he wasn't sure what he could except wait for the beast to rot away and pick the sword from its bones.

Warden Sierra was the first of his to arrive, just trailing behind the elf whose name he was fairly certain started with an 'f'. Or a 'h'. It was debatable.

The elf, whatever consonant his name began with, stopped short at the sight of the now deceased dragon. Hawke stepped up, a little shakily albeit, and spread her arms wide to indicate the dragon. "Ta-daaa!"

The elf was less than amused. "Ta-da? That's what you have to say?" He continued talking but Aedan tuned him out rather quickly. He already knew how that conversation was going to go. Why didn't you wait for backup? Do you have any idea how reckless that was? Blah, blah, blah. It was all so predictable. Hawke could handle that by herself.

"Warden Sienna," Aedan motioned for her to come closer. "You see that dragon over there?"

"I don't know where this is going but I know I'm not going to like it." Sienna, as usual, looked reluctant to serve.

"There's a sword in that dragon and I need you to help me find it."

Her dramatic sigh was uncalled for. "I knew it."

While he and Sienna searched the dragon, the elf and Hawke's argument changed from shouts to hushed whispers. Seemed the elf wasn't used to not being a direct part of Hawke's team. Aedan was half-inclined to listen in, though before he could the rest of their party burst into the cavern.

Ohgren growled so loud Aedan feared he was going to cause a cave in. "I ran all this way and you nug-humpers already killed the damn thing?"

Hawke jumped at the chance to talk about anything else besides what she and the elf were still fighting about. "Yes! Two badasses like ourselves against one dragon? It was child's play."

"Obviously," the elf sneered. "That must explain why your cloak is on fire."

"Shit," Hawke whirled around to get a look at the flames licking at her back. "How'd I miss that?"

"Stop twirling, Hawke. Stop, drop, and roll." Varric sized up the situation. "Ancestors, no one's going to believe this."

Hawke stayed down on the floor, lying on her back where she had dropped. "But this actually happened, Varric. Not like that one time you told everyone I arm-wrestled an ogre and won."

"Honestly, Hawke, knowing you it could have happened."

Aedan knew Cartier was rolling his eyes as he said, fully irritated, "Doesn't make it any more true, dwarf."

Ah, there you are. Aedan barely kept himself from running over to the glint of silver showing underneath the dragon's bloated belly. As he worked the sword out form under it, he called Sienna off the search. Not that she had really been looking for it. The blade had survived the Blight; he'd have been right pissed if he lost the family sword on some political jaunt to Kirkwall. Fergus wouldn't have been pleased either.

Ignoring the glares of the elf piercing her back, Hawke watched Aedan meticulously pick dirt off the blade and hilt and grinned. "So, Cousland. You going to buy the drinks or what?"

Aedan could not begin to express how much he hated taverns. He'd be the first to admit he was a little stuck-up (growing up as a lord in a castle it was hard not to be), but the dirt and vomit and piss all over the damn place would forever be a turn off. Despite however much he tried to change. And all this bloody pipe smoke... They were only at the Hanged Man under Hawke's insistence that a dragon slaying called for celebration. And drinking. She had mostly emphasized the drinking.

"What in the Void are you making that face for?" Hawke had seated herself across from him while her friends filled in the spaces around them. Sienna and Cartier had found their own table, mostly Aedan assumed so their commander wouldn't see them fraternize with the locals.

Crinkling up his nose and trying to ignore the burning in his throat, Aedan replied, "I don't spend a lot of time in taverns."

She appeared taken aback by that. Hawke turned thoughtful and held her chin in one hand, propping her elbow on the table. "I think I've spent half my life in taverns. There's nothing else to do in Kirkwall. And you should just be glad we're out of the damn Deep Roads."

"I prefer the Deep Roads." The bugger sitting behind him was blowing obnoxious smoke his direction. "Hold on." Aedan turned round in his seat, squinting at the offending man. "Ser, would you mind putting out that pipe-" He had to stop talking; the man smoking just blew that maker-awful smoke directly into his face. Quickly turning away until the coughing subsided, Aedan turned back ready to pull this Kirkwaller's intestines out until he remembered where he was and who he was with. While his title and story were well known in Kirkwall, his face wasn't. And since Varric had let them all use his suite to change out of their armor and into common clothes, there was little chance that the bastard would ever have recognized him as a noble. Thus, the whole "ripping his intestines out" thing might be overdoing it.

Instead Aedan discreetly dropped a sovereign on the tavern floor, said 'you just dropped a gold piece', and waited for the man to lean over to pick up the fallen coin. That was when Aedan drove his elbow down onto the back of his skull. Instant knockout. Gesturing to one of the serving girls, he lied, "Man had a little too much to drink. Needs an escort home."

The serving girl didn't look pleased. "The ass can lie there all night for all I care."

That was good enough for him. He could breathe now. Putting all that behind him, Aedan turned back to his companions and spread out his hands in apology. "So. What were we talking about?"

"We all saw you do that," Anders said, shaking his head and pretending to be disappointed in him.

Aedan tried to come up with a lie, he really did. The fact that he couldn't was distressing because he was usual so damn good at it. Finally, "I'm allergic to pipe smoke."

"The Hero of Ferelden has allergies?"

Hawke knew she shouldn't be laughing. It wasn't funny. Spring had always played hell with her sinuses. But hearing Cousland, who acted so damn invincible all the time, had allergies? It was just too good.

Also, it distracted her from Fenris who was still pissed as hell at her. While taking out the dragon by themselves had impressed her and Cousland's friends, it had only thrown Fenris back into his usual 'I can't leave you along for two minutes without you putting yourself in another life and death situation' state. He wasn't wrong, by any means, but it could become irritating. Especially considering they weren't 'together' anymore.

Damn, this was a depressing train of thought. To move on, Hawke went back to her new favorite activity; picking on Cousland. "If you don't like taverns, how do you pick up women? Or men? Or both? Because most of my action involves letting men spill their drinks on me..." She trailed off at the end to watch Varric blatantly signaling for her to stop talking. When she just looked confused the dwarf sighed and nodded towards the elf on her right. "Oh shit, right. I don't do that anymore. I'm a solid, reformed citizen..." She paused. "Okay, I don't even believe that."

"Well," Aedan gingerly stood up and nodded to each of them. "It's been fun, but I need to get back to-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Hawke passed her drink across the table to him. "We're getting you drunk and I don't want to hear any excuses."

"Hawke-"

"No excuses!"