Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2!" Nada thing. Bioware holds all the rights.
Author's notes: Further into the plot we go. Ready for some bittersweet, some heartbreak and hilarity? In case it hasn't been clear, I am dearly loving these characters :P
CharlieBarrow: Thanks for keeping everyone in character.
QueenTyzula: I hope you like the story's continuation! :P
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter nine "Hiding out"
Hawke woke in good spirits and moved around her estate in her dressing robe. Orana was cooking breakfast in the large kitchen and the elf gently chided her for stealing a piece of bacon. Munching, Hawke turned to transverse the large common room toward the staircase. She was starting to ascend when the large door knocker rapped attention at the front door.
Bodahn greeted the runner at the door, accepting his letter and exchanging it for a few copper pieces. Hawke leaned against the banister, swallowing the rest of her bacon.
"Who's it from?" she asked her servant. Bodahn smiled good-naturedly and handed her the letter.
"The lad didn't say. Seal says it's from Varric," he suggested. Hawke raised an eyebrow. If Varric had something to say, he'd do it in person usually. How unusual. She broke the seal and started to climb the stairs, reading the scrawled words languidly. She stopped and reread the letter again, fingers clutching the parchment desperately. Bodahn noticed her actions and craned his head to watch.
"Serah Hawke?" he asked. Hawke turned a pained face to the man, and tried to work out the letter. It was hard; her brain felt like it was shutting down from the news.
"Nothing! It's nothing!" Hawke rushed up the stairs, flinging off her dressing robe as she did. As she dressed in tunic, trousers and knee-high boots, Hawke's mind was awhirl. Isabela was back? She was alive? More than alive, she wanted to see her? It was everything Hawke had dreamt of and wanted for three years.
Or was it? Hawke grunted as she swept a hand through her short hair. It was fairly tousled from sleep, and she didn't have the mindset to groom herself fully. She called for Bodahn to help with her Champion's armor, settling for breastplate, greaves and gauntlets. He finished and Hawke stalked toward the staircase.
She was moving on! She wanted to pick Merrill! Hawke touched the raw bite on her neck as she went. She stomped down the stairs, ignoring Orana's call for breakfast. She collected her coin pouch and longsword, and left for the day.
It was still far too early. The morning merchants hadn't even opened their stalls at market. Hawke sighed, but kept going. She wanted nothing more than to go to Merrill's and greet her at her home first thing. But it was literally down the road from the Hanged Man! Isabela would be sure to find her there. She knew where Merrill lived as well.
What to do? Hawke scowled, upset. It WOULD be just like Isabela to show up and turn her whole world upside down. As usual. First, she'd left without even a letter to break her off cleanly, but now she was back trying to see her like nothing had happened! Hawke pressed a fist against her heavy tunic, over the belly. She had almost died for her and she couldn't even say goodbye!
Well, Hawke had been the one to say goodbye in her heart. As turmoil and heartbreak warred in Hawke's heart, one emotion stood out clearly in her mind; anger. How dare she show up again? Hawke was over her! She wanted to be left alone to seek Merrill. But Isabela would be looking for her. She didn't want to be found, especially not that day. What to do?
As the sun steadily rose higher, the merchants opened stalls and wheeled carts out, crying out their wares for the day. Shutters of nearby houses opened and the streets finally started to come to life. Hawke nodded her greetings as many called salutations to her. Hawke's eyes alit on a brown-haired woman in a fancy dress. She carried a list, and her servant carried her basket.
"Champion Hawke! Finally, I get a moment alone to speak to you!"
Hawke made herself smile politely. Dulci de Launcet was an exhausting noble and one of the many fawning types that wearied her as of late. "Good day to you, Lady de Launcet."
"It's Dulci, Hawke. Please, won't you join me?"
Hawke knew what she was angling at. She had had her fill of admirers from the noble class as well. But the opportunity did present a way out, at least for the day. And she did need time to think…..
"Of course, Lady de Launcet. Can we go to your estate?"
Dulci's eyes widened. Hawke tried her most winning smile and was pleased when the lady blushed noticeably. Dulci tucked her arm through Hawke's and led her away.
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Hawke grumbled. She had barely gotten one bloody SECOND to think over her heartbreak and situation. The servants at the de Launcet household were just as fawning as Lady Dulci and Hawke was hard-pressed to avoid them. Dulci was angling for sexual favors and while Hawke wouldn't have faltered at that a short while ago, she was destroyed by her heart. Merrill…. she was waiting for her. Isabela, her heart's desire, had resurfaced. It was all too much strain and she didn't need a sexual partner for the day on top of it all.
She was frustrated, but Hawke was too exhausted emotionally to think about sex. It didn't mean Lady Dulci didn't try. Her innuendos were bordering on salacious and it was driving Hawke up the wall.
"Won't your husband mind?" she found herself asking at some point. Dulci pursed her lips.
"He has his hobbies and I have mine," she retorted. Hawke was ready to turn Dulci out on her ear after being referred to as a hobby, but realized she couldn't. She was here at the pleasure of Dulci's leave, and might have to go ahead with what she wanted. Hawke sighed, apologizing to Merrill and Isabela silently.
"Oh?" Hawke said coolly, but she did sidle up to the lady, and slid a hand down her plunging cleavage to fondle a breast. Dulci cooed appreciation and Hawke sighed inwardly as her trousers were unlaced. Hawke made undressing far more longer than it had to go, and forced herself to kiss the woman. Dulci couldn't fathom her slow responses and kissed her harder. She made to undress Hawke fully, but the Champion kept her tunic on. Only Merrill saw all her scars, and loved her for it.
Hawke made Dulci turn into someone else, anyone else, to get through the moments. She fondled her round breasts, and hitched her thighs round her waist, guiding Dulci to the bed. Just as she was starting to find pleasure, the dratted noblewoman began moaning in a high way that sounded borderline fake.
It made Hawke want to pull out and stalk out of the room. Dulci's squeaks and laughs beside her ear made the fine hairs at the back of Hawke's neck stand upright. She longed to fling herself off of Dulci but she had to finish up. At the very least, she could finish off Dulci and take her pleasure elsewhere. It wasn't like this was going to make a good finish for the Champion.
Hawke focused on Merrill's small curves in her mind's eye as she plunged in and out of the noblewoman. Dulci was screeching beneath her and Hawke grit her teeth, wishing she'd stop. When Dulci made the mistake of grazing her lips over Merrill's mark on her throat, Hawke truly saw red. She put her palm over the lady's face and pushed her face into the mattress, turned away from her. The rougher treatment got Dulci off, making Hawke raise an eyebrow.
She pulled out, erection bobbing. Dulci made to embrace her but Hawke climbed off the bed and stalked toward the chamber door, pale legs moving quickly.
"Wait, you don't have to go," Dulci called. Hawke scratched her thigh and opened the door.
"I have to piss," she lied. Dulci was already half asleep. Stepping into the hallway, three servant girls appeared to be eavesdropping and they all squealed at the sight of the half-naked Champion. Hawke gave a hint of her roguish smile and went in search of the washroom, her shift fully visible between her legs.
While she was in there, one of the bolder girls sidled in. She hesitantly reached between Hawke's legs and touched her rigid shaft.
"You don't look like you're finished…. "she offered, blushing. Hawke sighed as she got to work, hot mouth moving over her erection. At the very least, she could do with some good head.
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Hawke grunted as she swung the axe high overhead. She was half-dressed, in trousers and her under shirt, muscles in her bare arms flexing as she made the axe sing. There were several sections of tree waiting to be chopped in the courtyard and no one had gotten started. It all started when one of the servant girls fussed over how to chop firewood and Hawke had stepped in.
It was better than shagging Lady Dulci, who turned out as dull a companion as Hawke feared she would be. And the servant girls and a few boys gathered round to fawn attention over her, calling out encouragement and suggestions. Hawke liked their attention now, but she feared she was in the wrong place as it were. She grunted on each upswing, pulling the axe down hard to split the wood. Isabela…Merrill… Isabela…. Merrill…
In between each upswing of the axe, Hawke grunted with the exertion and the male and female servants watching giggled and squealed amongst each other. Lady Dulci appeared at the doors to the courtyard, watching and frowning, but Hawke couldn't find it in her to care. When she set the axe down, a bold servant girl ran up, fawning over her, offering a glass of water.
Hawke drank it quickly, a line of water dotting off her jaw. The girl held her arm, and traced her fingers along Hawke's waist, guiding her by the cock as it were to a quiet corner. Hawke stood under the partial shade and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. The girl's mouth was hot and wet, and she was pulled along on a tide of pleasure. Hawke groaned lightly, mouth opening as she started to let herself go…..
"What are you doing?!" Dulci's shrill voice rang out and startled, the girl jerked off of her erection. Hawke groaned aloud, but caught the girl's wrist as she got to her feet.
"I was just entertaining the girl. You'll excuse us," Hawke growled. Dulci was not so placated.
"You are here as MY guest!" she shrieked. Hawke ignored her, and half-laced, walking on tiptoes to accommodate her swollen erection. The girl blushed and went with her. In the store room in the kitchens, Hawke let herself go in the girl's throat. As she wiped her mouth, Hawke pulled her to her feet. The girl blushed as her dress was hitched up around her waist.
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"Oh, pardon me, Serah Hawke!" the older nobleman stood hastily from his chair. Hawke grimaced; she was the one to barge into his privacy, not the other way around. She shut the door to his study and awkwardly greeted Lord de Launcet. He was as dressed down as she in a velvet dressing robe. The eager servant girls had all but stripped Hawke, claiming they were going to wash and press her clothes. At the very least, Dulci's husband seemed friendly. If he knew about her tumbling his wife, he seemed not to care.
"Pardon my intrusion, Lord de Launcet," Hawke gave a tense smile. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"
"No, not at all! Wait 'til I say how the Champion shared brandy with me," he grinned. The older man ran a hand through his beard, and poured a cup for Hawke. She accepted and clinked her glass to his. They sipped, staring at the fire blazing in the study's hearth.
"I must say, all the servants are astir with you here, Serah Hawke! Are you enjoying your stay?" Lord de Launcet poured Hawke another glass of brandy without being asked. Hawke gave a small smile.
"In some ways, I am…. pardon me for avoiding your wife."
"Bah." Lord de Launcet waved a hand. "I avoid her as much as I can."
Hawke snickered in her head and sipped. Guilt assuaged her heart when she thought about Merrill, though anger tinged her mind when thoughts of Isabela crept in. She was why she was here in the first place. "May I have pen and paper?" she asked.
Lord de Launcet got up and rummaged around his desk. He produced a quill, a pot of ink and a piece of parchment. Hawke took his seat at the desk and carefully penned a thoughtful and rather apologetic letter to Merrill. Once she was finished, she waited for the parchment to dry.
"Could you have a runner send this to my estate?" she asked the lord. Lord de Launcet nodded.
"Instructions for your servants?" he asked. Hawke shook her head.
"No…a message for…a friend." She hated she had called Merrill that. In her heart, the elf was so much more. But she truly was sorry for skipping out on her decision for her for a few days. Isabela had right and messed everything into a jumble yet again.
Lord de Launcet watched Hawke seal the letter and he called for a boy runner to collect it and sent him on the streets of Kirkwall. Hawke sighed and followed him to the chairs in front of the fire.
"So…would you be upset to my seeing what has all the staff riled up?" Lord de Launcet made far more interesting company than his wife. Hawke gave a smile.
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A bright-eyed servant girl woke the lord and his guest the next morning for breakfast. They had drunken themselves to a stupor and things may have progressed. Progressed to a shagging against the desk, that is. Hawke didn't bottom for anyone, so Lord de Launcet had spread cheeks for her. Besides, she found the beta male highly more receptive than his wife. The two woke in front of the hearth, dressing robes askew, and the lord brightly gave orders to his servant.
Hawke scratched the itch growing between her legs and moved to the desk to pour herself another brandy. She made a face as the aftermath of the night before slammed into her head. The servant girl cleared her throat at her elbow.
"I have your clothes pressed, Serah Hawke. If you'll join us in the dining hall….." she said. Hawke followed the girl and dressed for the day. Lord de Launcet rejoined her in the dining hall, similarly dressed for the day. He grinned and conceded as Hawke took the place at the head of the table. The servant boys and girls bustled about, setting out the morning dishes, and Hawke nodded as strong black coffee was poured into a cup for her. She sipped quickly, wincing at the slow dull ache in her head.
Lady Dulci entered and regarded Hawke with surprise, then turned to glare at her husband as he sat at the wrong place. Hawke ignored her, slowly eating strips of bacon, dipping them into the yolks of her eggs. Lord de Launcet kept up a lively banter and Hawke answered him. At least he wasn't annoying.
After breakfast, Hawke ambled to the courtyard to see if any more firewood needed to be chopped. She found the axe where she'd left it, embedded in a tree trunk. She worked it loose and walked across the courtyard, giggling servants following in her wake. Hawke sighed. She didn't want to think what Merrill would think if she could see her now.
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Merrill had stopped at Hawke's estate, under the pretense of merely bidding her good morning. She had learned over the years not to beg for Hawke's attention. She merely received it by being sweet to her. She had been received kindly by Bodahn and the strange news that Hawke hadn't been home in two days. Merrill sighed. Of course, Hawke would revert to her vanishing ways. She probably had found a new….companion to be with until she came home.
After she'd bitten her, Merrill couldn't say that that didn't hurt. But Bodahn surprised her further by handing her a sealed letter. The seal was plain and when Merrill left the estate, she broke the wax covering and read the letter as she walked along. Hawke was indeed staying with someone, but the letter made it sound like she didn't want to be there. She had apologized to Merrill and promised to be back soon. She further riled up Merrill's heart by mentioning Isabela. Isabela? Was the pirate queen back? It could only account for Hawke's sudden disappearance after seeing only her for the past several months.
On her way back to her home, Merrill almost jumped out of her skin when she noted the familiar shape and bright blue bandana of her old friend. Was she her friend still? If Isabela had bothered to talk to any of the regulars of the Hanged Man, she may very well know she'd taken Hawke to bed while she'd been gone.
Despite what she'd found out, Isabela was glad to see Merrill, and she was glad the elf looked well and healthy. She hailed her, and walked closer, offering a friendly arm around the shoulders. Merrill went concave, but did smile back at her.
"I was going to call on you, kitten! I'm back in the city, and wondered where all my friends were. Do you…. have time to talk?" A hopeful light lit the pirate's dark eyes and Merrill couldn't find it in her to say no.
"O-of course! I'm so glad you're back, Isabela," Merrill said sweetly. The two made their way into the Hanged Man and the bartender set up two drinks in Merrill's usual table in the corner. He made to raise an eyebrow as if to inquire about Hawke but Merrill waved him off. Isabela took a long sip of her whiskey, sighing.
"First drink of the day. I'm so glad to be back, Merrill. I just…. I haven't found Hawke yet. Is that strange?"
She looked so perplexed that Merrill felt bad for her. The twinges she'd gotten from Hawke's scrawling words indicated she didn't know what to do about Isabela being back. Her old hurt and feelings must be flaring up. Merrill had to be patient. Even if the object of Hawke's old desires sat opposite her. It WAS an old desire, wasn't it? Suddenly, Merrill didn't feel so good about her prospects.
But still…. Merrill had to admit she was glad to see her old friend. Seeing Isabela's bright smile put her at odds, and made her heart hurt all the same. She could see what Hawke had loved.
"So…to talk point-blank about the elephant in the room, where IS Hawke?" Isabela's words almost made Merrill jump.
"I…I don't know!" Well, it wasn't a total lie. Merrill fisted Hawke's letter in her pocket. She had no idea WHERE she was.
Isabela stared at her. "Drop the act, kitten. I know."
Merrill looked confused. "You know where Hawke is? Then why'd you ask me?"
"No! I…" Isabela took a deep breath. Sometimes Merrill's ramblings got the better of any conversation. "I know about you... and Hawke. You're in love with her."
Merrill's eyes widened but there was no hiding. 'Caught' was all over her features. "I should have known you'd find out. Nothing gets past you, Isabela."
Isabela took another sip of whiskey to clear her mind. "I'd like to talk with Hawke. Do you know where she is?"
"I.. I wish I could say where." Merrill couldn't keep the sad frown from her face. Her Hawke wasn't hers and she was off drowning her sorrows. "I was just at her house. Bodahn said she'd hadn't been back in two days."
Isabela frowned into her cup. That didn't sound like the Hawke she knew. "Does she do that often...? Go off for days on end?" The 'who with' was like to make Isabela mad if she dwelled on it. She took another sip.
Merrill sighed. "I probably shouldn't say anything about it. Considering how close you two were. But that was three years ago and well, three years is a long time to be gone…. "
Isabela's heart gave a twinge, seeing the odd quiet play for Hawke spreading across the elf's kind features. She swallowed. "I know you love her, Merrill…but I have to try. You understand I have to try, right? If I don't, I know it is completely my fault. But…at the least, I owe her an apology. She does deserve that…"
Merrill's lips pursed together sadly. Despite herself, she agreed with Isabela, heart be damned. And her good heart wouldn't tell Isabela no. "Of course! You should….. at least apologize. I …I don't know if she'll see you or accept it, but you should try…."
Isbela's eyes softened. She reached over and touched Merrill's hand. "Thank you, kitten…"
Merrill looked at Isabela, tears in her eyes. "You're welcome."
The elf hoped she hadn't ruined a possible future with her Champion.
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Hawke growled as she sidled into the de Launcet's estate kitchen. She had sated herself a few times but word of her prowess spread among the staff and several girls and men vied for her…. attentions. She was starting to get sick of it.
Were she home, she would twine with Merrill and talk in gentle tones. And now everyone wouldn't leave her alone. She was better off just leaving! But Isabela would call at her estate and then…. well, Hawke didn't know what she'd do.
The kitchen was oddly empty in this area of the cavernous room. A few cooks were basting turkeys and chopping vegetables but they were keen workers who didn't care about a dalliance with the city's Champion. Hawke sighed with relief. Her pressed tunic was open down the collar and almost to her breast band from some foolish servant girl trying to be forceful and the clasps had torn. She sighed heavily.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" a soft voice squeaked. Hawke craned her head to the side. A servant girl was staring at her, but not with blind lust like all the rest. She looked truly repentant for intruding on Hawke's thoughts.
Hawke's smile wasn't forced. "Don't be. I'm… sorry if I disrupted your work. I'll get out of your way."
"No! That's okay, I mean, you don't have to…." The girl's jumbled words reminded Hawke of Merrill. Heart twinging, she took another look at her. The girl was human, young, and slightly muscled. Her breasts were a good size, but she was very skinny all over.
"Girl!" The aggravating tones of Lady Dulci rang out and Hawke groaned, aloud and not just in her head. "What are you doing to the Champion? Get away!"
Hawke wrapped an arm round the girl's waist and held onto her. "That's enough of that, Dulci. Leave the girl with me."
The girl in question was blushing as Hawke's arm held her waist. "I…"
Dulci's lips pursed in an annoying manner. She made to shrill again, but the sharp look Hawke shot her made her rethink her strategy.
And Hawke took the moment of indecision to escort the kind girl to a quiet corner of the large kitchens. "Thank you, sweet girl. Believe me, you've helped me."
The girl's face was positively red. "I… you're welcome…"
"What's your name?" Hawke let go of the girl's waist and gazed curiously at her. The girl swallowed.
"Tara, Serah Hawke."
"Thanks for getting me away from your mistress, Tara. She IS annoying."
"I….she can be…." Tara bit her lip as if she'd get in trouble. Hawke merely laughed.
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"Will you take a nightly brandy with me again, Serah Hawke?" Lord de Launcet's eyes gleamed as he grinned at the Champion. Hawke paused at the door to the kitchens, giving a smile.
"Not tonight, my lord. Thank you."
"It's Hawke!" the flurry of excitement at her entrance to the kitchens was to be expected. Hawke strode in, glad she wasn't clad in just a dressing robe. Her pressed clothes still looked fine despite the torn tunic collar.
"No, I don't need any help. Just a kettle of water to boil. And tea leaves for two cups. Thank you."
Hawke couldn't help smiling as she found Tara talking to one of the kitchen matrons about her tasks. The older woman scowled at Hawke, unperturbed to her status.
"I was wondering if I could steal Tara for a few moments. Thanks." Hawke didn't make it a request. Tara came with her, blushing.
"Do you need help with that, Serah?
"No, no." Hawke wouldn't allow Tara to take the tray. She pushed out into the estate gardens. The moon was high and a few lanterns were lit along the well-manicured pathways. Hawke took a seat on a stone bench, and set the tray on a table beside it. "Please, join me."
"I…thank, you, Serah." Tara's blush remained rosy as she sat, folding her hands over her skirts. "Why do you want to have tea with me?"
"Because you were kind to me. And I'm done with everyone fawning over me." The winced smile Hawke gave made Tara's heart thunder faster.
"But…you're the Champion. A warrior unrivaled," Tara stammered. Hawke waved a hand.
"Please, enough of me. How about you? How long have you been working for the de Launcets?"
Hawke poured for Tara, despite her protestations. Tara regaled her with her being hired on two years ago and tried to make her tasks sound more interesting than they were. Hawke did listen readily. When Tara timidly asked her about herself, for more of a tale, the story Hawke told her could have made her weep. How she'd arrived in Kirkwall, running with her siblings, mother and dog from Ferelden. Hawke's eyes went distant as she admitted her little brother had fallen in battle protecting their mother.
Tara couldn't help it. She set her tea cup on the tray and leaned to tentatively place her hand over Hawke's calloused one. "I.. I'm sorry. I heard stories how you arrived in the city…I didn't know about your brother…"
Hawke gave her a bright smile. "Ah, I'm sorry, sweet thing. I didn't mean to distress the situation. It's just such a nice evening, and I found good company. Thank you."
Tara blushed. As they conversed, more of Lady Dulci's practices came up. Hawke was startled to learn that the omega servants of the estate were locked below the manor in a hidden chamber during their heats.
"Why that wench…I'll tell her a thing or two!" Hawke cursed. Tara blushed.
"Oh no, it's not as bad as all that! It's well furnished and insulated and no one is locked in alone. But it doesn't give one much opportunity to…. find someone during those times."
"I can imagine," Hawke lamented. Her eyes moved over the girl's figure before she could stop herself.
"And….well….even if I had my eye on someone…I wouldn't know what to do," Tara confessed. Hawke started.
"Who do you have your eye on? Tell me, sweet thing, I'll put in a good word for you." The gentle palm Hawke caressed beneath her chin forced a further blush from Tara.
"I…" the earnest look in Tara's eyes explained things and Hawke needn't have felt surprised. Unlike the other servants in the household, she was truly flattered.
"Well…. Sweet Tara…. Perhaps I could help you do something about this…." Hawke stood and held her hand out grandly. Tara took it. She found herself not caring they left the tea tray out in the gardens for the moths to alight upon. Some other servant would pick it up.
As Tara led Hawke back to the servant's building behind the gardens, she could feel the eyes of her colleagues crawling over her. When she caught their gazes, Tara got the stink-eye outright and several threatening gestures. Hawke's arm round her waist made her feel confidant and only when the Champion stepped into her room far from everyone's eyes did Tara feel a twinge of fear.
"I….it's not much…" What would Hawke think of her? A Champion, really, in her tiny room? Hawke gazed round at her dressing table and narrow bed. A small vase with a fresh flower cut from the gardens was on the dressing table and Hawke's eyes softened. She urged Tara to sit and the girl blushed as Hawke knelt on the ground before her.
"It's enough. Tell me if you want this, sweet Tara."
Tara leaned down and kissed Hawke. The firm lips of the Champion brushed against hers as she leaned up on her knees, coaxing her tongue into the girl's mouth. Tara clutched her strong shoulders and pulled her closer.
End for now
End notes: Don't worry, Hawke will come to address the hens that have come home to roost! :P Like it, smash that button and do that review thing :P Stay strong my lovelies.
Most sincerely, pen
10/07/2017