Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2!" Nothing.
Authors notes: Abit more to do this chapter :P For the amount of time between each chapter, I've been trying to pump more plot points in. Above all, review review if you see anything you liked or have something to suggest for our favorite Champion and pirate queen and elf mage :P
QueenTyzula: Thanks for keeping up with this one :P
Guest reviewers: thanks for the kind words :P Sorry so long in between postings.
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter eighteen "New Beginnings, Endings, and Revelations"
"Mama, look! Tarts!" Lark tugged at Isabela's hand, pointing with the other. The pirate squeezed her son's hand. Hawke slung an arm around her waist as they strolled through the market. Merrill was on Hawke's other side, hugging her arm. Falcon clung to her hand, swinging it as he skipped beside the elf.
"Then we should get some. Unless they haven't finished their drills with you, love?" Isabela asked her mate. Hawke gave her an easy grin.
"We have more swordplay to do later. But I don't see why my warriors shouldn't get a treat." Hawke ruffled both boy's hair. They giggled as the small family stopped at a stall and ordered a bag of the flaky treats.
The merchant pushed his bandana up on his brow and smiled at the Champion. "Your children's mother is very pretty, Champion Hawke," he said. But the man was looking at Merrill when he said it. Isabela straightened and shared a confused knowing look with Hawke and Merrill. The boys didn't notice the strange vibe between their parents and favorite "auntie" as they chewed on their tarts, trickles of jam pouring out of the opposite end of the treats.
Hawke kissed the side of Merrill's head as she wrapped an arm around her waist. She whispered something close to her pointed ear that Isabela couldn't hear, but she was fine with that. The sweet elf may not have been the boy's mother, but she was as close as one. Again, those kind of thoughts encroached on Isabela's mind, but it made her think in circles. Merrill brightened at Hawke's side, and when Falcon offered her half his tart, she gave him a bright smile, putting the boy at ease.
"Come on, Fal!" Lark nudged his brother's arm and the two scampered ahead.
"Not too far ahead, boys!" Hawke barked. The boys heard and slowed. But they were still a good distance away. The cobble stones of the market at the edge of Kirkwall receded and sand extended before the small family. The edge of the shoreline was a beautiful sight, children playing games and fisherman hard at work.
Hawke winced as sand seemed to find ways into her boots. Isabela was rigid at her side.
"Where are the boys?" she asked sharply. Hawke scanned the landscape with a sharp eye. She caught motion at the edge of a rocky cliff. Of course. Now her boys wanted to learn to climb. She jogged forward, one hand holding her sword scabbard from banging into her hip.
"Falcon! Lark! Get down!" she ordered. The boys paused in their climbing, looking chastised.
"We wanted to see how high we could get!" Falcon called. Isabela crossed her arms, tapping one boot.
"Get down NOW!" She put all of her authority into her voice. The twins cringed but before they could begin to attempt to try and get down, there was a scuffle and Hawke's heart stopped when the two small dark figures slid off the cliff wall.
Before she could move, Merrill was charging beside her. She stabbed the air with her staff, a burst of magic sprouting to surround the flailing children. The magic net caught the boys a good five feet off the ground and their feet waved in midair as they stared at the panting elf with wonder.
Merrill plucked both out of midair, dropping her staff to the sand. She clutched the twins to her, showing an incredible amount of strength.
"What were you thinking? You could have been hurt, da'len!" she scolded softly. The boys awkwardly clung to Merrill.
"We're sorry, Mamae," Falcon said. Merrill flushed then looked incredibly happy as Hawke flashed a confused look with her mate.
"Where'd you get that word?" she cast a pleading look to Merrill to explain the elvish term.
Merrill flushed, hugging the boys to her chest. "It means 'mother'. Last I took the boys to market, a merchant asked them if that was what I was."
Isabela felt something turn over in her chest. It wasn't jealousy, but recognition. She liked Merrill well enough, heck even a lot. She found herself as protective of the thin elf, maybe more, than Hawke was. They were all a family unit whether anyone would question it or not.
Hawke met her eyes, flushing to herself. Isabela leaned to kiss her cheek.
"Well, you are as close as one," Isabela said. Hawke huffed in her mind. She didn't know whether her mate was teasing her or not.
Back at the estate, Merrill kept both boys on her lap, checking their thin limbs for scrapes or cuts, giving them kisses and making them giggle. The twins had quickly gotten over their near-death experience and insisted on finding a treat for Merrill from Orana in the kitchen.
Isabela led Hawke in the family study and tried to get her to wrap her mind around things.
"Merrill loves our sons. Maybe more than we do," she teased. Hawke crossed her arms and huffed. For some reason, she felt quick to defend her mark with her mate.
"Yes, but you are my mate. Merrill is not."
Isabela leaned one voluptuous hip against the edge of Hawke's desk, leaning down toward her mate. The Champion's eyes darted toward her cleavage and one bare thigh.
"Why are you putting her off? I know where I stand. We are well and together, Hawke," Isabela leaned to kiss her lover. Hawke perked up against her. Isabela trailed a hand along her mating mark through Hawke's clothing. Hawke seethed under her touch. "Maybe… Merrill could be more. We couldn't ask for someone more loyal."
"Makes me think you want her too," Hawke huffed. Isabela kissed her.
"Couldn't you try to….. make her yours too? If you love her, couldn't you consider it?" Isabela asked gently. Hawke gave her a rueful grin.
"No one's marked two at once. One mark would hold over the other," Hawke mused. Isabela fingered the etch of Merrill's teeth across her bare throat. Hawke flushed.
"But it hasn't healed. Not even the slightest," Isabela mused. Hawke nodded.
"I could try…"
"That's the spirit, sweet thing," Isabela purred. She settled into Hawke's lap and twined her arms around her neck. "Now go take our sweet elf to bed and mark her."
Hawke blushed against her shoulder. "Are you certain you don't want to do it?" she asked wryly.
Isabela swatted her shoulder. "Oh, quit being salty, Hawke."
"That's your persona," Hawke grinned. Isabela kissed her again
"I'll put the boys to bed after dinner. Use the spare bed chamber," Isabela suggested. Hawke nodded, face bright red.
"I'll broach the suggestion to her," Hawke said.
"Go get her, Champion," Isabela said.
The pair joined Merrill and their sons in the sitting room. As Isabela took Falcon on her lap, Hawke settled his hand over Lark's head and ruffled his hair. When she leaned to whisper into Merrill's pointed ear, Isabela noticed the shy woman blush bright red.
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"Are you sure about this?" Merrill asked shyly. Hawke leaned against the sideboard in the spare bedroom they were occupying. She'd had Orana dust and lay down fresh bedding. Candles were lit, and Hawke was pouring wine into two goblets. She held one up to her girlfriend, eyebrow raised and a soft smile on her lips. Merrill's heart beat a staccato rhythm. Hawke was wearing just her under-tunic, arms bare. Her belt was off, and trousers half laced. Merrill's mouth went dry as her eyes went south.
"More sure than I can say," Hawke admitted. She scratched at her belly idly and lifted her own goblet in toast.
"But why?" Merrill wanted to know. Hawke trailed her fingers down Merrill's cheek softly.
"Because you love my sons as if they were your own. And I love you. I couldn't ask for a better mate," Hawke murmured. Merrill was touched by the reverence she saw in the Champion's eyes.
"But you already have a mate. For two bites to hold…." Merrill stammered. Hawke pressed a sweet kiss against her cheek. She set her goblet down, hands roaming softly over the elf's sides. Merrill sighed happily. The goblet shook in her hands, but Hawke caught it and set it aside.
Then Merrill was free to twine her arms around her Champion's neck.
"I'll make it work," Hawke murmured against her collarbone. She unfastened Merrill's tunic, helping her undress slowly. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the elf's small breasts and she bent her head low. Merrill's hands scraped through Hawke's dark hair. Hawke lifted her head and captured Merrill's lips in a kiss that heated up rapidly. "Besides….it hasn't healed."
At her grin, Merrill's eyes went down to her lover's throat. Her own bite marks were still visible, raised and white along Hawke's pale throat. Merrill's heart leaped in her chest. She hugged Hawke tightly, her hips rubbing against her lover. Hawke groaned as her shift slammed to being, stiffening up against her lover through their clothing.
"Where….will you mark me, vhenan?" Merrill stammered. Hawke kissed along her throat, nipping and sucking.
"Maybe here…." Nip.
"Or here…" Nibble.
"Or maybe I'll just put it in the middle of your back, as I'm taking you…."
Heat slammed between Merrill's thighs and her pussy dampened. Hawke didn't just say things, she made promises. She wriggled in the Champion's arms, her own hands unable to stay still. "Hawke…"
Hawke's hand was low, helping slide her leggings off. "Maker's breath, I want you, Merrill. All to myself too…."
Merrill was beginning to far understand how Dalish elves could be seduced to the human sides of communities when her Champion stared at her with love and desire in her eyes. Merrill grew a bit bolder, tugging at the Champion's under shift and mussing Hawke's short dark hair as it came off.
Hawke groaned, pleased, as Merrill's small hands unlaced her trousers the rest of the way. One hand slid inside, cupping her erect shaft as the other pushed the fabric off her hips.
"Oh, Champion…." Merrill murmured. The cock in her hand throbbed and seemed to grow even harder. Hawke gave her a roguish grin.
"I love the way you look at me," Hawke admitted. She wrapped her arms around the thin elf, lifting her feet off the ground. She walked Merrill backwards toward the bed and laid her down on it. "I love your tits. So perfect…."
Isabela was far more voluptuous than she was, but Merrill felt more than desired as Hawke climbed on the bed, cupped one breast and bent to take the other in her mouth. She writhed beneath her, trying to rub herself against any part of Hawke she could, her leg, her thigh, her waist. Hawke chuckled above her. "I love this belly. So small…."
Merrill was suddenly reminded that Hawke had never knotted her and more than likely never would be able to. Their differences in size made sex much slower between them and while Merrill loved the way Hawke devoted her attention to her needs, she felt guilty that she wouldn't be able to bear the Champion a pup of her own. Tears pricked her eyes.
Hawke laved kisses along her belly, one large hand on her inner thigh, caressing the smooth skin there when she noticed. She crawled back up Merrill's body to lean against her and was relieved when Merrill's arms went around her back. Hawke leaned to kiss the corners of her eyes.
"Don't…..don't think about that. I love you. Let me love your body and make it mine…." Hawke murmured. Merrill began to heat up once more as she felt the hardness of Hawke's cock rub against her inner thigh. She rubbed against it wantonly, pleased when Hawke gave a soft groan.
"So eager, little one. Let me get you ready…." Hawke's mouth was dipping down her body as she traveled to the apex between her thighs. "I won't let you go so easy tonight."
Merrill cried out when Hawke's mouth leaned between her thighs. Her calloused hands held her thighs open and all the elf could do was writhe in place as Hawke laved her tongue along her clit, and down to her entrance, thrusting her tongue to lap up the wetness Merrill produced. When Hawke pushed a finger inside her, she was sopping wet. Hawke carefully added another finger and thrust them back and forth. Merrill's stomach concaved as she writhed on her back. She scraped her palms over her eyes, giving a shuddering gasp.
"Please, Hawke…" she murmured. Hawke leaned up, grinning, her mouth covered with Merrill's juices. When she knelt between her spread thighs, Merrill could see her cock straining. Small drops of precum dotted the slit of the head.
"Are you ready?" Hawke was so sweet to always check in. Merrill wrapped her legs around her sides, hands cradling the Champion's jaw.
"Yes….please, Hawke," she pleaded. Hawke kissed her heartily, rubbing her tip against her wetness. Hawke's heart was in her throat as she watched her lover's head tilt back. Merrill's pale throat was so open, so ready….
Hawke worked herself in with slow steady thrusts. When Merrill's feet scraped along the back of her thighs, Hawke kept up a steady pace. Sweat sprung along her temples and hair line as she strained to keep her thrusts even and firm. She never wanted to hurt her little elf.
When Hawke sank her teeth into the edge of her throat, where it met her shoulder, Merrill cried out. She clutched Hawke's head with grasping fingers, urging her. After she was pushed to a climax, Merrill urged Hawke to her back and took her in from on top. Hawke was sweating profusely, eyes shining with lust as she watched Merrill ride her, the last stubborn half inch of her cock outside of Merrill's clutching silken walls.
Merrill leaned down and brought her lips to her own mark made in love and affection in this same position. It seemed like ten years ago. Hawke writhed beneath her, hands clutching the elf's back as she thrust toward her own release. Merrill kept her mouth over her mark, sucking and biting, renewing it, as she winced on top of Hawke's slightly harsher thrusts. She always tried to be gentle with her, but at the apex of her climaxes sometimes needed that extra push.
Merrill sighed happily when she felt Hawke explode, hot spurts of come filling her. Hawke's hips kept rolling, but slower, as she spent herself.
"Oh, fuck me, Maker's tits, Merrill," Hawke cursed. Merrill lifted her head and smiled down into Hawke's flustered and smug face. She leaned to kiss her, and Hawke ran her hand through her short hair.
"We're mates now," Merrill stammered, not daring to believe her good fortune. Let her old clan gossip and talk. She had a good woman and family now.
Hawke nodded, beaming. She rolled Merrill to her back and gave a languid thrust inside her, keeping them connected. "I hope it holds," she admitted, voice filled with happiness. "You mean so much to me, little one."
Merrill ducked her face into the crook of Hawke's neck, sighing happily. She inhaled the sweet musk that was all her Champion and clutched her back gently. She was where she belonged.
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Hawke didn't mean to keep the spare bedchamber until almost morning. A few short hours before dawn, she and Merrill woke, trading kisses and touches. When Hawke took her hand and guided her to the master's bedchamber, she didn't complain.
Isabela was half covered with the sheets, dark flesh showing in patches. Hawke's eyes lit up seeing her, and she helped Merrill in after her. The two shucked their robes and the three cuddled in the sheets in the middle. Hawke turned to wrap her arm around her pirate queen. Isabela pressed her face into her shoulder, yawning.
"All done?" she yawned. Merrill giggled behind Hawke, curling up along her back. Hawke grinned like a fool.
"I think it'll hold," she whispered. Isabela kissed her. She reached over her side to clutch Merrill's hand,
"Good. Our kitten's with us," she said sleepily.
"I am," Merrill chirped. The three faded out but a few short hours later the boys knocked hard on the master's chamber door, calling to be let in. They had been taught to always knock now and not just barge into any potential embarrassing situations.
Isabela pulled her shift on and tossed one to Merrill and Hawke before letting in the twins. Lark and Falcon wrapped their arms around her legs and then jogged to the bed, climbing up and jumping up and down, calling for their papa and Merrill.
"Wake up, Papa! Wake up, Mamae!"
The elvish word sounded strange to Isabela's ears, but knowing what it meant, she had to reflect it suited Merrill. The thin elf was blushing, and she opened her arms, hugging Falcon to her. Hawke leaned to kiss Merrill's cheek, ruffling Lark's hair as he flopped on her lap, giggling.
Hawke held her hand out to Isabela and invited her back on the bed and the pirate grinned as she climbed up. The small family lounged together, giggling with the twins and listening to their excited plans for the day.
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Weeks passed.
Merrill adjusted to her new life as second mate to the Champion of Kirkwall and rarely did she see her own kind for she didn't have much want to frequent the city's Alienage any longer. She had a secure and safe home with Hawke and only too happily did she collect her meager belongings to live at the estate fully.
It was passing that she had left the elvish mirror artifact behind. The last time Merrill went to her old shack, the mirror was gone. Merrill was inclined to think brigands or thieves as Hawke would have suggested. That was until she found the note.
It was written in elvish and signed by a few she knew of her old Dalish clan. Not her keeper Marethari, but several of her highest acolytes. No one that she knew of had been selected as the new Second, but Merrill knew neither of them had the forthright to wish her new life well.
Well, aside from Marethari. The old Dalish elf had always been fond of her and had sought to find her a safe new life when she had chosen blood magic. It was only Merrill's extreme luck and fortune that Hawke had encountered Asha'bellanar and been sent to her clan.
"Come back to the last hunting ground and see what you've done," the letter had ordered. Merrill sweat to herself. What would her new family do? Isabela would have laughed and torn the letter to shreds, cursing the writer for a fool. Hawke would have sought information to the writer and either ignored the exchange or met it with blade in hand if she deemed it a danger to her person.
Neither were with her now. Merrill leaned against her old table, thinking hard. She wanted more than anything to just go home and ask Hawke would she should do. But she was a second mother now. Merrill wanted to embody all the honest traits of a good mother; honesty, virtue and above all else, courage. Hawke deserved that as well in her. Merrill straightened her shoulders.
"I'll go see the clan and see what they want. Back home in time for supper," Merrill chirped aloud. Her heart dragged as heavy as her fears. As she left her shack for the last time, Merrill hurried to the outskirts of Kirkwall to head for the Sundermount foothills outside of the city.
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"Bela! Did Merrill make it back yet?" Hawke called. She sauntered out into the back garden, Falcon slung casually over one shoulder. The boy giggled from his vantage point and was tilted sideways by his sire with one easy arm.
"Papa!" he squealed. Hawke patted his rump with her other hand idly. Isabela looked up from the garden's stone bench. She was drinking whiskey from a silver flash, watching Lark "help" Orana with the wash. His help seemed to be splattering the soapy clothing onto the cobblestones by accident, but the elf maid didn't chide him. She helped him pick up one of Isabela's short tunics and squeezed out the water, so they could hang it up on the clothesline.
"I thought she had. Kitten said she wouldn't be long," Isabela said, brow furrowing. "Should we check on her?"
She knew that look on her mate's face. A rictus of determination was on Hawke's features. She nodded simply and slung Falcon to his feet, righting the boy with steady hands.
"Orana, will you look after the boys? Bela and I will be back soon," she called to Orana. The maid nodded, wiping her wrist across her brow.
"Of course, Mistress Hawke."
The twins clung to her sides, babbling jokes to the smiling elf and Hawke held her hand out to her mate. Isabela pocketed the flask and accepted her hand. The two strolled through the house, picking up weapons. Hawke stood still as Isabela helped Bodahn attach her breast plate and gauntlets. The dwarf knelt to attach her greaves and adjust the skirt mail.
"Thank you, Bodahn," Hawke said. Isabela adjusted her bandana, earrings flashing. She cocked one hip out.
"Should we check her old home first?" she suggested. Hawke nodded.
"Hopefully she just lost track of the time."
"She can be absent-minded about that. Only that," Isabela said hurriedly. Hawke chuckled and took her hand. The two exited the manor and hurried toward Lowtown and the Alienage. One quick venture in and no Merrill. Looking around the shack, both were quick to find the discarded letter.
"Well I don't know elvish, sweet thing," Isabela lamented. Hawke adjusted her sword belt.
"I don't know what this is about. Maybe it was sent by her old clan? We could check their last camping ground," she said, worry in her tone. Isabela nodded and the two dashed through Lowtown toward the edges of the city. Merrill was their family and they would help her if trouble were upon her.
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Indeed, trouble WAS upon Merrill.
When she'd arrived at the hunting ground, several Dalish ignored her pointedly, until one of the acolytes hissed at her to find Marethari in a cave further up in the hills. She would know what she'd done when she saw her, was implied.
Merrill made her way into the cave, throat dry. Her old keeper was kneeling, looking as if she were in the most excruciating pain and torment. She smiled seeing Merrill and Merrill knew that despite her decision, she had loved her.
But hope died like ashes in Merrill's mouth as she saw the demon inside her Keeper's eyes.
"Keeper! Why?" Merrill cried. Marethari held up a trembling hand, as if to deflect her.
"Because it could have possessed you. And I couldn't let that happen," Marethari tried to smile but it was a painful look. Tears filled Merrill's eyes.
"But but…..you didn't have to!" she cried. The acolytes entered the mouth of the cave, effectively blocking her way.
"You see what your accursed blood magic has done? If you hadn't been her Second….! She wouldn't have...!"
Merrill's world was falling apart around her, and she didn't have the want or inclination to defend herself. Not while her mentor was dying before her eyes.
"I…I…."
"You can't even explain yourself! Let's be done with her! She's killed our Keeper…."
A glance behind her shredded Merrill's heart. Marethari was indeed laying on the ground and she wasn't moving. Her chest was still rising and falling, but her breaths were slowing. And suddenly, her chest wasn't moving anymore.
Blackness dimmed Merrill's vision as a part of her heart died with her Keeper. Marethari had still loved her to the end to offer herself to the demonspawn in her place. Seething grief filled the darkness and a wail rent from her throat.
That was when the acolytes clasped her arms, yanking her to her feet and far away from Marethari's frail bent body.
And then Hawke burst into the cave, drawing her sword, fury in her eyes as she ran pell-mell toward her. Her sword was raised, and the acolytes screamed around her as she rained blows. A whirlwind of motion and Isabela danced around Hawke's side, daggers flashing. Blood splattered the pair, and Merrill as well.
"Don't….don't…." Merrill choked. Hawke knelt beside her, spots of blood dotting her cheeks.
"Merrill! Are you okay?!" she demanded. Merrill felt the overwhelming love of her mate surging through their link and she fell into Hawke's arms, wailing with fear and grief.
Isabela let the last acolyte scamper out of the cave, injured and running for her life. Isabela tutted her and wiped her blades on one of the acolyte's tunic. "Are you okay, kitten?" she demanded.
Hawke her let her sword fall to the dirt, and her arms were around Merrill, rocking her back and forth. She recognized the silver-haired Keeper not far off and instantly knew why Merrill was in such pain.
"Marethari….is she…." Hawke asked gently. Merrill's eyes squeezed fat tears as she pressed her brow to Hawke's tunic and wailed.
"She's dead….because of ME!"
"Oh, kitten, not because of you," Isabela said gently. She rubbed the elf's thin back, kneeling beside her mate and Merrill. "How could you think that?"
"Because….because….they were right….. my blood magic called a demon….and the Keeper let it take her….!" Merrill was inconsolable. And Hawke knew nothing but time and patience and a whole lot of love would set her second mate's world right again. Some day.
She let go of Merrill briefly to sheathe her blade and stood, picking her mate bodily up in her arms. Isabela stood close, hand patting Merrill's leg as they made their way to the cave. Outside, the rest of the Dalish clan stood at the ready, and they looked downright enraged.
Isabela tensed, one hand going for a dagger and Hawke's shoulders concaved. She clutched Merrill in her arms, a fierce glare on her face.
"If you're going to demand Merrill, you'll never get her. I'm taking my mate home," Hawke declared. Her tone made it not an option to ask otherwise. Several of the elven clan shifted and one of the remaining acolytes pressed their luck.
"She caused the death of our Keeper. I don't trust a shemlen to understand how important a Keeper is to the Dalish, and she died needlessly to protect one NOT OUR OWN."
Merrill shuddered in Hawke's arms and while Hawke knew she didn't doubt her love for the elf, Hawke was worried about the grief her old clan was causing her heart and mind.
"How could you…!" Isabela began. Hawke growled beside her.
"If you don't let us through, I swear to the Maker I will cleave a way through."
Several of the Dalish cursed in elvish but Merrill's quavering voice sounded.
"I….I…. I'll leave….I won't return…." She promised. Hawke clutched Merrill to her chest, trying to soothe her shaking.
Murmurs arose from the clan and finally one of the more outspoken sniffed. "Go. And never return."
"With friends like you, she doesn't need enemies," Isabela sniffed at the Dalish. The elves stared at the three, stone-faced.
Hawke hurried her steps and did not feel the slightest bit of relief until the rolling hills of the Sundermount were far behind and Kirkwall loomed ahead.
Merrill wouldn't stop crying and her soft sniffles and wails tore Hawke and Isabela's hearts. They shot a worried look over her head. Hawke was slightly relieved that her mate was on board to help soothe her other mate.
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Back home, Hawke kept the elf easily in her arms, walking Merrill inside. The twins charged up to greet them and were dumbstruck at the sight of their mamae grieving.
"Whas wrong, Mamae?" Falcon gently tugged at Merrill's leg. The elf couldn't answer, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.
"Ssh, boys. Let's put your Mamae to bed. She isn't feeling well."
"Why?" Lark asked plaintively. They kept pace with their sire's long strides upstairs and scampered onto the bed with Merrill. They cuddled tightly on either side of her, clutching her. Merrill wrapped her arms around them, crying softly.
"Because…." Hawke sat on the mattress and soothed her hand over Merrill's short hair. "Mamae lost someone very important to her…and that always hurts."
"Ooooh…." The concept of loss wasn't too recognizable to the small children, but they understood their second mother was hurt. "We're sorry, Mamae…"
Isabela sat on the other side of the mattress, watching Merrill sadly. "We'll bring you dinner, sweet kitten. You don't have to do a fricking thing if I have anything to say."
"T-thank you…..Isabela…." Merrill sniffed. A fresh round of tears filled her eyes and she gasped trying to catch her breath. Falcon handed her his handkerchief and giggled when Merrill blew her nose loudly.
That first night was rough. The twins brought their picture scrolls into the wide master's bed and explained the stories through memory alone, making up stories to go along with the etchings to amuse Merrill. The elf listened, nodding, but her eyes had a glazed, glassy look that worried Hawke. When dinner came, she begged and urged Merrill to have at least a few bites of Orana's stew, even picking up the spoon to feed her.
Merrill took a few bites to appease her mate, but she soon slid onto her side, hugging her knees. Her eyes closed with exhaustion.
"Come on, boys, time for bed," Isabela ordered. Falcon and Lark protested they were protecting Mamae's heart which touched Merrill so much she began to cry again. Alarmed, Hawke rubbed her back, leaning to caress her hip.
"I'm here, love, I'm here," she urged. Merrill turned her cheek into the mattress, closing her eyes.
"Put the boys to bed, Hawke," she said softly. Always, Merrill was concerned for the twin's well-being. Hawke leaned to gently kiss her temple.
"Be right back," she said. Hawke helped Isabela bathe the boys and tuck them into their small beds in their chamber. Isabela told the bedtime story and wrapped it up in a hurry.
"See you tomorrow, loves," Isabela said. Hawke blew out the room's candles and laid her hand at the small of Isabela's back.
"Good night, boys," Hawke said gruffly. The twins chirped out their goodnights as the door was closed. The parents could hear the brothers giggling in the dark, but they were too concerned for Merrill to tell them to quiet it down for the night.
Back in the bedchamber, Merrill was sitting on the mattress, arms wrapped around her thin legs. Hawke and Isabela climbed up onto the mattress. Hawke wrapped her arms around her mate from behind, nuzzling her throat.
"My love…..it will be okay one day. I promise," Hawke choked. Merrill's eyes filled with tears again. Isabela wiped her tears with a corner of the sheets carefully.
"I just…."
"Sssh, kitten. You need to rest. You look exhausted," Isabela said gently. Isabela fetched a shift for Merrill as Hawke carefully undressed her. When the neckline of the shift was tugged over her head and smoothed over her lithe form, Hawke urged Merrill to her side. Hawke rubbed the elf's back gently, urging her to sleep.
Finally, Merrill drifted off. Hawke watched Isabela take off her earrings and choker and undress for bed. "I'm so worried, Bela…"
Isabela gave her mate a gentle look. "All we can do is be there for her. She is going to need us more than ever."
"I know…"
Isabela watched Hawke shuck out of her tunic and trousers, sliding under the sheets in only her under-tunic. She blew out the candles and the two of them cradled Merrill between them.
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Getting over a loved one's death is never easy. Each day that passed proved troubling and tiresome in its own way. But Hawke extended her patient love and Isabela her support. Having two small boys to care for helped Merrill as well and slowly but surely, she was able to be happy again with her new life. Losing her Keeper was hard, and so was being ejected from her clan.
But Hawke was sure Merrill was secure in her new life with her.
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A few weeks passed.
Hawke cursed as she trudged home. Anders had had the bright idea to look for….something he needed from the sewers, and she had fallen into a pool of sludge. She was covered head to foot, her armor and clothing ruined. She fumbled with her house key until Bodahn opened up. His smile died on his lips and he actually retreated a few steps from his mistress.
"Mistress Hawke!" he cried, voice laden with dismay. Hawke cringed, dripping sewage on the rug.
"I fell into a mishap," she explained lamely. "Please look after my armor."
Bodahn helped strip her on the spot, tears in his eyes at the mess he'd have to clean up from the floor as well as her ruined armor. It would have to be scoured and scrubbed for days. Orana was called over and she cringed a good five feet away, eyes fearful of the mess.
Down to her soiled smallclothes, Hawke winced at her kind maid. "A towel please?"
Orana dashed off like a mad woman and when she came back, she had an armful of linen. She tossed one at Hawke's face and the Champion grunted as she tried to wipe the worst of the gunk from her flesh, carefully drying her feet so she wouldn't trek any more in.
"Papa!" her boys crowed from somewhere in the distance. Hawke groaned in the towel and shoved it off her damp hair. She caught sight of the twins stopping in their tracks, plugging up their noses with their hands. "Ew!"
"For fuck's sake!" Isabela snapped. She stopped a good five feet away as well. Orana darted behind her. "Hawke, what did you DO!"
Hawke groaned, rubbing the soiled towel over her body, trying to pick up more sewage. She sputtered and coughed. "PLEASE just get some buckets of water…."
"Oh, I will, and you are going to the garden and out of this house!" Isabela snapped. Merrill's voice chirped a hello from the study and when she came up front, similarly her smile died. Then she began to giggle uncontrollably.
"Oh, ma vhenan, Anders wanted you to get that dirty?" she giggled. Hawke pouted at her mate but was oddly touched her misfortune could cheer her mate further. At least there was THAT.
"Yeah well…."
"Please, Mistress, walk on the towel so you won't ruin the rug in the whole house!" Orana begged. Hawke took mincing steps, making sure the towel stayed under her. She was careful not to touch anything and once out in the garden, she tossed the towel aside.
"Okay, drench me," Hawke said. She held her arms wide, small breasts bared. Orana worked the garden pump and Merrill and Isabela carried buckets over to her. Hawke winced and stood her ground as she was doused with cold well water from head to toe. Flakes of sludge worked out of her hair and down her shoulders. She shivered and sneezed, nipples erect. "Damn!"
"Oh, quit your bitching….." Isabela smirked. She tapped one boot on the cobblestones. "Small clothes off, Hawke."
"Okay, okay…." Hawke wasn't concerned with her boys being present. They'd all had baths together since they were small after all. She shucked the soiled small clothes and Merrill groaned.
"Can her clothes be salvaged?" she wondered to Orana. Orana shook her head.
"I think her tunic and trousers need to be thrown out. She has other outfits…"
"You heard her. Only your armor is going to be saved from this debacle," Isabela said coyly. Hawke hugged her arms over her breasts, goose flesh covering her skin.
"More water, please."
"You asked for it," Isabela retorted. After several buckets later, Hawke was sufficiently rinsed. She still felt unclean and asked Orana to bring the tin tub out to the garden, so she could scrub down and keep the rest of the filth from the house. The sun was setting, and Merrill lit the lanterns. Orana brought soaps as well and soon the tub was filled. With cold water. Hawke stepped a foot in, wincing and then took a deep breath, sitting down. Her teeth clacked.
"Fuck that's cold!"
"Language, Hawke," Isabela retorted.
"Oh, you're one to talk, pirate queen!" Hawke snorted. She cried out when Isabela poured a bucket of water over her head. Merrill worked in shampoo over her scalp and Isabela began scrubbing soap over her shoulders and torso. Hawke sputtered, gooseflesh raised. Her boys helped scoop up water and toss it over her.
"Brandy, please!" she begged Orana. The maid went to the kitchen and came back out with a mug of the drink. Hawke accepted the ceramic mug and sipped, trying to get warmed up as her mates washed her. Finally, she began to feel clean. The bathwater was a dingy gray and brown as she stood up, water cascading off her muscled form.
"Alright, sweet thing, out of the tub. Final rinse!" Isabela held up a bucket, grinning. Hawke sighed and held her arms out.
"You are SO getting it for enjoying this," Hawke glowered but she couldn't keep a devilish grin from her lips. Lark ran to get a towel as Hawke accepted the last thrown bucket to rinse off and made a point to wrap her wet arms around her mate.
"Hawke!" Isabela squealed. Hawke picked her up, naked flesh pressing into her, planting a kiss on her cheek. Merrill brought a towel with Falcon and both began drying off Hawke in sure passes of the fabric.
"Thank you, loves," Hawke said, smiling and feeling like herself again. She wrapped a towel around her waist and followed her family inside.
"I love the view, but please get dressed, Hawke. Orana and Bodahn have seen enough of you today," Isabela teased. Hawke blew her a kiss and made to limp upstairs. Merrill eyed her thigh as the towel pulled up.
"You're cut, Hawke," she said gently. Hawke glanced down, unperturbed. The cut was shallow with only a few flakes of blood that had seeped through.
"It's nothing."
"At least patch it, Hawke," Isabela urged. Hawke nodded.
"Okay, okay…."
The rest of the night passed normally. As the three women prepared for bed, they had no way of knowing how their small world would be upended soon.
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It began as a sore throat and cough the following morning. Hawke complained of light fatigue and still made to get up and dressed to aide Aveline with any tasks.
"Maybe you should stay inside, sweet thing," Isabela suggested. Hawke leaned against the pillows, grinning.
"Why, got plans for me here?" She gave Isabela's hip a firm swat.
"Really, love, you're not feeling well. Get some rest," Isabela retorted. Hawke leaned in for a kiss and slung an arm around Merrill's waist.
"Are the boys up? I can hear them talking in the other room," Hawke said. Isabela let the twins in and the small family cuddled as normal on the bed.
As the sun arched overhead in the sky above Kirkwall, the small family's day started simply enough. But by midday, Hawke was coughing continuously, and her limbs trembled. By night she was wracked with fever, her brow clammy and lined with sweat, her flesh hot to the touch.
"What did you do in that sewer?" Isabela worried. She accepted a clean rag from Orana and wrung cold water from it to press against her mate's brow. Hawke flinched at the cold water and fabric, green eyes fluttering open anxiously.
"I….we just.." she slurred. Merrill's brow furrowed with worry.
"Hawke?"
But as their mate continued slurring her words, Merrill knew she was delirious with fever. Isabela looked downright panicked.
"What can we do?" she begged Merrill. Merrill frowned, tugging up her mate's shift. Her eyes and fingers skimmed over every inch of Hawke's pale flesh, looking for irregularities. She was ready to ask Hawke to roll onto her belly, so she could check her back, when she happened upon the shallow cut along Hawke's thigh. It was a small thing, too shallow to consider a threat, but the skin around it was flaming red.
Merrill traced carefully around the edge of the puckered red flesh and Hawke cried out in pain.
"Oh, Hawke." Isabela's heart was in her eyes. Hawke shivered and seethed in her nest of sweat-soaked sheets.
"I'm…sorry…" Hawke wheezed. Merrill laid her hand over her brow, and fetched herbs to clean Hawke's cut out with.
"For what? I'll patch it in no time," Merrill said.
As the hours wound on toward night, the twins poked in, pouting and upset their papa was so sick. With Hawke sweating profusely under a pile of blankets, Merrill and Isabela were half-wild with worry. She couldn't seem to keep warm and her body kept wracking with tremors as her teeth clacked with cold. Hawke's body was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat despite this. It conflicted, as well as her continuous fever.
"Go and get Anders," Merrill finally said as the hour drew on nine o'clock. She cared not one whit if the mage would be mad for upsetting his night routine. Their mate was nearing danger in her health, she knew it. Isabela nodded, face blanching. She ruffled the twin's hair idly and told them to go to bed. Orana gently collected the boys by the hand and led them away, as they called out plaintively why Papa was so sick.
When Anders was led into the master bedchamber of the Hawke estate, Isabela was pleading with him, as she led him by the wrist. Anders was so confused to her somewhat contrite and odd behavior he didn't have it in him to rib her. Casting eyes on Hawke put a bad taste in Ander's mouth and he got the gravity of the situation instantly.
Rushing to the bed's side, he knelt beside Merrill and pushed the blankets off to do a quick scan of Hawke's body with his staff.
"How long has she been like this?" he asked Merrill. The elf's eyes were wet with worried tears, but she looked more put together than Isabela. Another look at Hawke's rolling eyes and pain-wracked face made the pirate begin to weep on the spot.
"Since morning," Merrill fretted. She clung to Hawke's hand, trying to ignore how clammy it was. She couldn't voice in her head the possibility that Hawke could die. It was unfathomable to imagine. The Champion of Kirkwall was nigh invincible; death would never come to Hawke's door.
But Anders pushed aside the bandage covering Hawke's thigh and gasped at the red flesh around her cut. "This is bad. When we were traipsing in the sewers well….she must have cut herself there. It can only explain this bad an infection."
Merrill had figured it was an infection, but not how bad it was. She stammered and listed the herbs she had used to bind Hawke's cut. Anders nodded and counted on his fingers.
"We'll need Fever Dream and Forget-Me-Not. That should bring down the swelling and flush out the toxins," Anders said. The servants were peering into the bedchamber, horrified expressions on their faces. Anders called to Bodahn. "You, good sir, please run to Master Hemlock's shop in LowTown. He'll be closed, but tell him I sent you. And get the herbs back post haste."
"Right away, sir!" Bodahn yelped. He paused to collect coin from Anders and ran for the stairs.
"Mistress Hawke…." Orana gulped in the doorway. The kind woman that had saved her and offered her a job looked to be near death's door and she didn't know what she'd do. Her poor boys….and her poor mates. Merrill tried to help Anders, but the pained expression on her face was heartbreaking to see. Isabela lay on the other side of the bed, not intruding on Hawke's space, but clutching her hand despite herself. Tears streamed down her face as Hawke babbled aloud.
"Not like Father….Bethany…. Merrill?" Hawke panted. Merrill wiped her sweating brow with a damp cloth, trying to smile for her. It was a pained attempt.
"Yes, my love?" she murmured. Hawke's eyes swung toward her rather wildly. And then she spoke utter nonsense for what she said next made little sense in context.
"When the new one arrives…..if she's like Bethany…don't let her….demons…." Hawke murmured, panting. Her eyes shone with a feverish plea. "You must promise me!"
Merrill had no idea what she was promising but when she clasped her love's hand and murmured "I promise," Hawke seemed to relax. Only so slightly. She turned her head on her sweat-soaked pillow to gaze at her pirate queen. Isabela was crying, clutching her hand. Hawke tried to reach up and touch her cheek with trembling fingers.
"I'm so sorry….not to see the princess….." Hawke panted. Isabela gave a shake of her head. She clutched Hawke's hand to her cheek.
"What are you talking about, sweet thing? If you've been seeing someone else, I swear," Isabela tried to give a haughty laugh, but worry was naked in her gaze. She blinked wet eyes. "I can't…. please, get better, Hawke, or I'll never forgive you."
Hawke groaned as Anders washed her cut out again. "I want to meet her too…the little princess." Her hand grazed Isabela's flat belly and the pirate shared a confused look with Merrill. Anders got the gesture and snorted.
"With child again, Rivaini?" he raised an eyebrow. Isabela flung her hands up.
"I don't know! No!" she decided. She hadn't had a proper heat in a few months. Well there had been that small half day that felt like half a heat but it was no proper few days of rutting…..
"Why do you think she is, Hawke?" Merrill asked sweetly. Hawke gave a mad grin, sweat rolling down her cheeks.
"I just know. Father told me," she said. The next look between Isabela and Merrill was of more worry.
"Hawke, your father has gone to the Maker," Merrill said carefully. "Years ago, you might add."
"Tell him you can't go then," Isabela was more to the point. "You're staying with us and the boys…."
"My boys…." Hawke's eyes grew wet with worry. "I'm so sorry, Bela…."
"You'll get better….and train them right," Isabela murmured. She leaned down to press kisses across Hawke's cheeks. "Please…."
Anders reflected the normally cocky pirate must indeed be worried if she was showing such naked concern even in front of him. Their dislike for each other was openly known but he would not rile the woman on Hawke's apparent death bed. Bodahn returned within the next ten minutes with the needed herbs and Merrill helped him grind the medicinal plants to a pulp.
"Here…..this should help," Anders murmured. He lined the open cut with the mixture and Merrill carefully covered the cut with a fresh bandage. Now all they could do was wait.
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As the hours wound down toward dawn, Hawke's fever broke, and she finally stopped sweating. Merrill and Isabela lay on either side of her, dozing on and off. When Hawke asked for water, they woke instantly, and Anders stirred on a chair across the bedchamber.
"Hawke! Are you okay? How do you feel?"
Hawke groaned and tried to sit up. "Wasted. What happened to me?"
"You had an infection. I'm sorry for asking you to go down the sewers. It was my fault," Anders leaned on his staff and walked closer to the bed, smiling down at the confused Champion. Merrill tucked the sheet carefully around her mate's body and Isabela fetched a cup of water.
"I feel exhausted," Hawke murmured. Merrill pressed kisses across her face, making Hawke smile. Isabela pressed kisses along her brow as she settled an arm around Hawke's shoulders, helping her to sit up.
"Please rest. It was really touch and go for awhile," Merrill chirped. She scrubbed moisture from her eyes. Hawke leaned to kiss her cheek.
"I'm sorry," Hawke murmured. Isabela tilted her chin toward her and kissed the Champion.
"Thank Anders. He came out in the middle of the night to help patch you up," Isabela said. Anders was surprised her usual snark for him was absent from her tone. He inclined his head politely to the three on the bed. As he left the bedchamber, two small dark figures darted past, white nightgowns flapping.
Anders left, letting his thoughts circle around. True, he was never alone with Justice inside him, but seeing Hawke's family life made him want the same thing she had.
End for now
End notes: Is it evident I don't like Anders? He started all that mess in the city after all. Like it, drop a review! And I so made up those two herbs. They're nowhere in the game.
Sincerely, pen
6/14/2018