Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2." Everyone but the pups belong to Bioware.
Author's notes: The part about the sailor overboard was suggested by CharlieBarrow. Creds, creds.
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter twenty-eight "We are family"
Merrill woke first. The baby moved restlessly sometimes, and the heavy sensation always jarred her from a deep sleep or a light one. Her hands on her belly and whispers only did so much. Hawke's voice seemed to soothe the pup everytime, but her mate was fast asleep. And she didn't want to wake her yet. Isabela was asleep too, and Merrill was loath to wake her. She'd had a traumatic time of it losing the baby. They were all lucky it was inside her now.
Merrill carefully climbed off the edge of the large bed and made her way to the cabin's small washroom to pee. The baby seemed to rest on her bladder half the time and she felt ungainly navigating there and back. Climbing back on the bed carefully, Merrill soothed Hawke's bangs out of her eyes, her fingers tracing her face lovingly. Hawke… she was so lucky to have gotten her child anyhow. Hawke's under tunic was pulled high along her belly and Merrill traced the scars there slowly. The raised puckered edges of the scars were traced smoothly, and Merrill couldn't help leaning on her side to plant a kiss there. Her poor mate had had a time of it through the years. Her body had so many scars and sometimes her limbs trembled. Merrill had seen it.
Hawke spread her legs, head lolling on her pillow. Merrill licked her lips. She was already half shifted so Merrill helped it along, small fingers curling around the shaft and tugging until her shift was complete. Hawke groaned in her sleep. Merrill leaned on her side, making sure to stay off her belly as she gently wrapped her lips around the head. Hawke's sleepy moans filled her ears and Merrill blushed happily. She worked the shaft deeper into her mouth and when Hawke opened her eyes and groggily stared, her lips where wrapped around the base of her cock.
"Merrill?" she croaked. Merrill's eyes twinkled merrily up at her. She released her cock and kissed the side of the head.
"Morning. I think you're up." She gave Hawke's cock a slow pump to emphasize her words.
Hawke gasped, hips levitating up. She stared up at the ceiling of the chambers, panting. "You don't have to do that," she groaned. Merrill took her in again and Hawke's words faltered again. "At least let me make you comfortable!"
Merrill had to agree, her back was starting to hurt from the angle she was in to avoid smushing her belly. She laid her cheek against her mate's thigh, stroking her.
"What were you…..oh!" Merrill blushed when Hawke picked her up effortlessly and laid her against the pillows. Merrill half sat, half lay and Hawke touched her cheek gently with her palm. The bobbing erection between her thighs belied the tenderness on her face.
Isabela began to stir and laughed when she noticed what was going on. "Getting your way while she can't move, sweet thing?"
But the pirate was teasing and both of them knew it. Hawke barked a laugh and rubbed her thumb along Merrill's lower lip.
"Kitten started it."
The elf's mouth opened, and her eyes widely pleaded with her mate. Hawke braced her arms against the headboard and aimed her cock for that sweet mouth and groaned when warm wetness engulfed her again. She fought to keep her hips from thrusting harshly. Isabela rolled closer, rubbing Merrill's leg, then swatted her mate's naked ass. The muscles there clenched from the impact and her small subtle movements to establish some kind of rhythm.
"I'll bet she did. Go ahead and give her what she wants," Isabela urged.
Merrill murmured around her and Hawke gazed down at her mate, lust and love in her gaze. Her toes dug into the sheets as her sweet mate bobbed fervently onto her. Hawke closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Merrill's eyes traveled along her mate's muscular torso, greedily taking in the movements that heralded her orgasm. The clenching of her teeth, her up tilted chin, her eyes closing, her hand tangling in Merrill's short hair affectionately.
Hawke gave a startled gasp as she began to come. Merrill lapped at her eagerly and took the head into her mouth for the next few spurts. Isabela reached to clasp Hawke by the base and help stroke her off. Hawke fell back onto her rear and rolled to the side to keep from falling onto Merrill. The elf wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and reached for her. Hawke twined their fingers together as her breathing thundered in her ears.
The three could hear commotion down the hallway outside the captain's quarters and Isabela sighed. She patted Merrill's leg affectionately.
"Make nice, you two, I'll get the boys," she offered. Hawke reached for her hand and kissed the back of it lovingly.
"Be at breakfast in abit," she promised. Merrill blushed as she settled against the pillows. Her hand descended upon the swell of her belly.
"Thanks, Bela," she chirped. She ran a tongue over her lip, gathering up the rest of Hawke's release. Isabela gave her a naughty smirk.
"Taught you well, did we?" she asked. Merrill blushed. Hawke curled against her side, leaning close, hand roaming along her inner thigh to part her.
"Go on, love," Hawke purred. Isabela gave her a pointed look.
"I expect some time later," she said. Hawke tensed but the saucy wink the pirate gave her told her she was clear to take her time with the pregnant young mother-to-be.
"Yes, my queen," she breathed. Isabela sidled out of the captain's quarters. Hawke huffed a sigh against Merrill's shoulder. Her mate twined her fingers through her tousled dark hair.
"Hawke," she pleaded breathlessly. Hawke hardened as her shy mate skillfully wove her chi teasingly through hers in a very un-shy manner. The look she gave Merrill was of delighted surprise. Merrill's small hand went between her legs and found her hard. She pumped her hand over her, not even trying to mask her efforts. Hawke sighed with pleasure as blood surged between her legs, thickening the shaft. She skimmed her fingers gently between Merrill's thighs, carefully tracing her wet vaginal lips.
"Can you take abit more?" Hawke asked. Her thumb rubbed teasingly around the elf's clit.
Merrill nodded eagerly. Her rounder breasts bobbed.
"Yes, ma vhenan. Just come here…."
Hawke was delighted to fall into her mate's arms. She had to position her weight on one arm and her shoulder to stay off her belly and the pup inside, but her hips still had traction to pump steadily away. Merrill cried out against her head, fingers clawing down her side and back. Hawke grinned to herself and her eyes made out the sweat forming at the elf's temples, her pale body moving beneath her. She leaned to gently kiss her brow, furious protection for the second mother of her pup surging through her. She would die to protect them both, she would fight to her last breath…..
Merrill felt it. The protective fury of a new sire. And all of its benefits directed at her. She clenched around Hawke's shaft, but her eyes were wide with love. Hawke grinned roguishly down at her. She crested the height of her orgasm but kept it back long enough to bring Merrill over, clawing at her and crying out. Her little elf was so sensitive carrying her pup. Her walls accommodated her even better and if Hawke could find traction to angle a look between them, she wondered if her elf had taken the last stubborn half inch of her fully. She couldn't tell. With her mate pregnant, her pheromones weren't calling to trigger a knot so Hawke couldn't test the thought.
Hawke braced her weight on one upper arm to lean and kiss her Merrill across her face over and over as she shook against her. Merrill's thighs squeezed around her hips. Merrill was catching her breath, smiling up at her. Hawke stroked her hair out of her eyes and kissed her. Their tongues meshed but the kiss was more loving.
"I love you, little mother," Hawke murmured. Merrill smiled happily and Hawke's heart could have broken. Merrill trailed her fingers up and down the sweat along her back.
"I love you, Hawke."
After a few more soft nothings, the pup stirred and kicked up a storm. Merrill cried out in surprise, but Hawke was quick to rub her warm hand over the bulge, talking to it.
"Ssh, pup, be good to your mother. Papa says it must be so," she growled softly. Merrill giggled. She laid her hand over Hawke's over her belly.
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When Hawke emerged with a refreshed Merrill, Isabela was glad to see her mate take up possession of their sons again. Hawke sat her pregnant mate into a chair in the galley and got her meal from Cook. After eating, she called for the twin's attention.
"Falcon, Lark."
Both sat up straight.
"Get your weapons. We're going to do our exercises and drilling. I'm sorry I had to wait so long to do it…."
The boys exchanged a look. They knew there had been a lot going on with their parents, all three of them, and most of the feelings revolving around an unborn brother or sister.
"It's okay, Papa! And we're ready," Falcon promised. Lark nodded, setting his spoon down. The look of relief on their sire's face was refreshing to see after all had happened.
Isabela finished her morning whiskey and raised an eyebrow at Hawke over the rim of her cup. "Don't run them over the ship's prow."
"I would never," Hawke promised. The boys grinned as their parents bantered together. Hawke made sure Merrill had her tea and took a cup for herself.
Cook took the twin's bowls and patted them on the head.
Once on deck, Hawke ran with the boys up and down the deck, hopping over stray lines of line and rope. The twins were tireless and outpaced her, but she did far more sit-ups correctly when it came time for that exercise. Hawke regrettably didn't have her old practice stave, and Isabela's sailors had had to cut and shape a piece of tree trunk to match the height of her usual practice weapon. It was as high as her shoulder, and the handle was tied off with rope for some form of a grip, but Hawke was not pleased with it. She'd like to purchase a new wooden stave, accurately weighted and carved off.
But for now, she danced backward, easily holding up the heavy carved off tree trunk. Lark was faster with his twin wooden blades. He landed two solid thumps and danced back, grinning. Falcon grunted as he charged, raising his practice sword and ducking behind his wooden shield. He used the shield to deflect Hawke's low swipe and whacked with his other hand.
Hawke called out low words of encouragement and suggestion as she trained her boys. Finally, after a solid hour of hits, with more than a few bruises gained by both, Hawke suggested a new dance partner. Craven had been watching and he sincerely hoped it wouldn't be him. He didn't want to hurt the captain's boys by accident.
One of the skinny betas was called over. He held up a sword scabbard for a practice weapon instead of a blade and paired with Lark. The boy was doing well against him when the beta accidentally lunged instead of falling back. The sharp cry of pain from the boy was more of alarm but Hawke still froze hearing it.
Suddenly, Isabela was beside her, both rushing the beta male up until his back collided with the prow of the ship.
"I, I didn't mean to! He's not hurt, is he?" the man was sweating heavily now as Merrill made her way to the crying boy to check his wrist.
Isabela seethed in his face. "I don't care! You're gonna pay for that hurt with your hide! Hawke!" she snapped. But her mate was right at her side, fists clenching the fabric of the man's tunic at his shoulders, keeping him in place.
She shook him bodily. "Yes, Bela?"
"Over the side! Now!"
The man began to cry with fear as he was hoisted up. Craven pushed beside Hawke, taking one of the man's legs easily with one fist, letting Hawke grasp his other leg with both hands. Together, they lowered the flailing begging man upside down over the side of the ship and held him there.
Isabela turned toward her son, kneeling beside a concerned Falcon asking after his brother, to check on his hurt. Merrill was holding his thin wrist with her hands glowing, indicating a healing. She let him go with a kiss to his palm and Lark carefully swung his hand and angled his wrist.
"Are you okay?" Isabela asked. Lark nodded. His brother cuffed his shoulder with his fist playfully.
"I'm okay! Mamae helped," Lark said. Merrill smiled affectionately down at him. Isabela hugged one of Merrill's arms smiling.
"Glad you're here, kitten."
Merrill nodded, smiling at her friend. "Me too. On your ship, I mean. Captain."
"Enough with the formalities, kitten. You've got my baby in there, it's not like we've not seen it all," Isabela teased. Merrill giggled, blushing.
Hawke wished she were closer to hear her mate's words, but her focus was taken down to the wailing over the side of the ship.
"Pleeeeease, Captain, I'll be good! I'm sorrreeeeee!..."
Craven lifted a thick eyebrow as he and Hawke glanced at each other.
"It was an accident," he offered. Hawke nodded. She braced her hip against the side, leaning to hold onto the thin man's calf more evenly. Craven's one-handed grip on the other leg filled her with a touch of envy.
"We'll wait for Isabela's command," she said. Hawke was used to waiting. But Isabela didn't make her wait these days. But she did, however, make the beta sailor wait a good ten minutes. His cries were beginning to sound pained.
At her signal, Hawke nodded, and she and Craven pulled the sailor back on deck. The man wheezed, falling to his knees as his hands shook. All the blood had rushed to his head, and his coloring was slightly purple.
Isabela sauntered up and when her boots came into focus, the sailor jumped up and shakily saluted.
"Don't touch my sons again."
"Aye, Cap'n!
Hawke leaned against the prow and gave her mate a wry grin. "Way to crack that whip."
"You love it."
Craven turned from their bantering to gaze at the sea. The sun was still high overhead and the chatter of the crew at work and the twin boys drilling filled the air. He was just glad to be here, far from his old life. There were deep gouging scars along his wrists where he'd been manacled for years. Isabela had seen them but didn't question their origin.
He hoped his stalwart service would be enough to excuse his sordid past.
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"Bela, wait!"
"I can't! The boys are running ahead…Boys!" Isabela shouted.
The twins yelped and sprinted back along the town's dirt road.
"Yes, Mama!"
"You wait for me…."
"Yes, Mama….."
Hawke walked along with Merrill, her hand in the crook of her arm. Hawke's eyes gleamed as she took in her pregnant mate. The elf was positively glowing. Her shorter hair was growing out and fell past her neck. She was fit to burst any day now and she insisted she wanted something sweet and she was going to leave the ship to find it. Hawke could only agree to help her stretch her legs and try and secure some pastries at the local inn.
Isabela, for her part, was just glad nothing strange seemed to have fixated on them. They'd had enough trouble at ports for a lifetime. Merrill squeezed Hawke's arm as she was led into the local tavern. Hawke hovered, and made sure no patron got too close to the pregnant elf. She wore a rogue's cloak and hood to keep her features hidden as the last port they'd been in had a notice up concerning the Champion. Anyone who had seen Hawke was to report to Kirkwall authorities. Merrill wondered who was in charge now and what they wanted with her mate, so they weren't taking any chances.
She knew the old Knight-Commander had blamed Hawke responsible for the rupturing war between the mages and templars. And many might consider that apt information. Isabela took the boys to the bar and bantered with the barkeep. She juggled a few gold coins and after an exchange, came back with a tray of pastries. Merrill squealed with delight at the sight as Hawke helped her into a chair. She leaned back, patting her belly.
"Thanks, Bela!"
"Go on, kitten. I know you've had a sweet tooth lately. I'd rather have my meat." Here Isabela winked saucily at her mate. Hawke's blush was visible from the folds of her hood. She served a pastry to the boys, one a piece. The rest were going fast.
"The baby will come soon," Falcon chirped. The adults shared a look. Without a home but the ship, Merrill would be giving birth there. It was odd to think about. But Isabela accepted a rolled-up scroll from Mel who flagged her down in the inn.
"It will. I don't know if we'll have secured this by that time….but the baby will grow up on land as well," Isabela promised. Merrill only nodded, trusting her, but Hawke took a peek at the scroll, taking it from her mate. A map of a string of islands was inked and drawn on the heavy parchment.
"Where'd you get this idea?" Hawke asked her. Isabela grinned.
"Castillon left many documents in my quarters. We're lucky this one has us landing within rights of an island."
Merrill beamed. "Our own island? Oh, the baby will be so happy."
"He will. And you too, kitten," Isabela declared. She leaned to rub the swell of her belly.
"I still think it's a girl," Hawke lamented. Her boys grinned.
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Outside the tavern, a couple of men were following Craven. He frowned, trying not to slouch his wide shoulders. He had agreed to meet Mel for SOMETHING. She had asked him for some of his time, and he had no idea what the sailor wanted. On his way, nibbling on some purchased roasted nuts, Craven noted the two men had been staring at the brand tattooed on his inner arm. A sleeve usually covered it, but they had seen.
Slavery was illegal in the Free Marches and Ferelden, but still, there were unsavory people that would skirt any laws they thought they could to earn a profit. Such as Castillon. Craven sighed in his head. The Antivan had purchased the lot of slaves he'd been in years ago, and on their way to port, the captain of the vessel had launched anchor and struck the chains from everyone below deck. Isabela had been younger, and quite frantic, as she yelled at everyone to take off for the trees. She and her men would handle Castillon's approaching forces themselves.
It must have been fate that put Craven in with Isabela's company once more. He'd needed a job, but she seemed not to have recognized him. He didn't blame her. It'd been a rainy night and lightning had arched high overhead, as he ran with the other slaves toward freedom.
"Hey you! Who do you belong to?" one of the men called. Craven ignored him. He saw Mel ahead, and when the woman waved, he gave a curt shake of his head. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand went to the blade at her belt. He hurried toward her.
"No one," he was forced to say when the man kept pace. His partner sneered.
"I seen your mark. You were bought by someone, and we'll take the bounty on you. You shouldn't have run, slave."
Craven saw red by that point. He turned and picked up the man by the throat, his large hand gripping hard. Mel dashed up beside him, unsheathing her blade as she went. The other man barely had time to grab his own weapon and steel rang on steel. Several townsfolk stopped to watch the fracas.
"Craven!" Mel was yelling beside him. Craven blinked. The man's face was purple, so he dropped him. And gave him a kick for good measure.
"I'm not. I'm not," he muttered under his breath. Mel gave the second man a kick to get him going. She sheathed her blade and leaned against his stolid arm.
"Not what?" she asked. Craven winced. Apparently, she had missed most of the shouted words. She had, right?
"I….I'll tell you sometime," he muttered. She took his hand. His large hand dwarfed both her own as she turned it over, looking for hurts.
"What'd they say to make you so mad?" Mel asked. Her eyes were very blue as she stared up at him. Craven swallowed.
"Later," he promised. Mel nodded and let his hand go. They collected several of the sailors on their way back to port. Together, they walked up the gangplank onto the Stormy Lover.
End for now
End notes: Like the story, smash the button and do that review thing. It honestly lets me know if anyone is bothering to read this. Is anybody still reading this? Think how much time goes into trying to write something halfway good. And then hit the review button.
Pen 2/02/19