Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2." Nothing.
Author's notes: More of Magpie, more of the twins. And a hint of more? Progressing the family along. So we can get to the Inquisition! The lines about Hawke's thoughts on her pride joy and princess are from CharlieBarrow.
CharlieBarrow: thanks for the reviews and good words.
Tautiana: and you as well, thank you.
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter thirty-three "Wanted Poster"
Isabela hugged Merrill as they watched their mate across the sand. She was playing with the twins, little Magpie hoisted to one of her strong shoulders. Isabela giggled as their daughter shrieked with laughter once then lapsed to her usual silence. Hawke tickled her and got another giggle before she fell to her bum in the sand. Isabela noted her mate's legs were as shaky as theirs since their heats ended yesterday. Falcon and Lark took the opportunity to tackle Hawke and Hawke's laughter was loud and happy as she fell to her back, covered with her pups.
"Hawke….she's sure something," Merrill sighed. Isabela kissed her cheek affectionately. Hawke stopped and tickled Maggie. Maggie giggles carried across the breeze. She then quieted as was her way it seemed. Only Hawke would get a word or two from her when prompted.
"That's an understatement. Just wow," Isabela sighed. Her heart swelled with pride and love. Their shared heat with Hawke had worn them down to sleeping for a day and a half after the last vestiges of lust had left their bed. Their poor sons had watched Maggie faithfully at Mel and Craven's, and were just happy to be back in the captain's household. Now weeks later, Isabela had cause to wonder if Hawke's seed had done the job yet again. She felt nauseous and exhausted, yet strangely happy. "Was that….the first time you knotted?"
Merrill sighed, a touch of joy lifting her heart. She gave the pirate a shy grin showing all of her teeth. "I can't even begin….to thank you enough. Having Maggie must have loosened something up, even having me cut open like that. We never could…before now!"
Isabela gave her mate a rueful smirk across the sand. Hawke hugged the toddler to her shoulder and waved to her mates. They waved languidly back, studying her form across the way.
"We both birthed a miracle with Maggie. She is all of ours," Isabela declared. She giggled. "I didn't mean to intrude….but with both of us like that…."
Merrill leaned her head companionably on her friend's shoulder. "I didn't think it'd happen. It's okay, we were both in heat! So Hawke would want us both near."
"Aye, for the harsh pounding and then you going in for the kill, you sweet kitten," Isabela teased. It was true she could handle Hawke's unleashed passion. She liked the somewhat rough treatment Hawke was forced to when Isabela stoked her lusts high. It suited her needs. But afterwards, Hawke had sunk into Merrill's arms, and through the soft murmurs and kisses was welcomed between her thighs at a slower pace. It was that slower pace that had worked. Or maybe Hawke hadn't been at full engorged levels of arousal after knotting Isabela, but they had finally joined fully.
Merrill blushed as she remembered her shrieks. The fullness of her mate's knot had her yelping with pleasure as she tried to adjust to Hawke's size. Hawke had been patient with her pace, and she had Isabela to thank for that. Hawke had been as entranced, aiming glances between their bodies where they were joined. The kisses she brushed along Merrill's collar bone were meant to be comforting, but Isabela had seen the shudders that had run through Hawke's body. Hawke had meant to offer her comfort through their first knotting, but Merrill had wound up being the one offering her comfort. As much as she could while shuddering and shaking through a series of orgasms Hawke had pulled from her. The knotting….it could have been too much. Even now two days later, Merrill was still walking funny and the twins had even commented on it. But damn, if it hadn't been enough to accept her mate's knot at last.
"Do you think…." Merrill blushed to herself. Isabela smiled.
"Maybe. Here, there's room for more."
"My old clan was wrong." Merrill's tone sobered. "Hawke saved me. All humans aren't out to destroy the Dalish."
"That she did," Isabela drawled. Hawke approached the two, Maggie raised high. The dark-skinned girl with sharp-tipped ears shrieked happily once, a cry to recall she did have speech before she reverted back to her silent adoration of her sire. She grinned and reached for her mothers. Isabela accepted the babe first and bounced her to her shoulder. "Hawke…."
"Hi," Hawke grinned. She was wearing a sleeveless tunic and her lean biceps gleamed under the afternoon sun. "What were you two going on about, loves?"
Merrill giggled, leaning in for a hug. She slung an arm firmly around Hawke's waist, holding onto her. She aimed a whisper to her mate's ears and Hawke flushed happily. Merrill giggled as Hawke slung her arm around her waist and lifted her.
"Oh, were you talking about more?" Hawke purred. Merrill slung her arms around her neck.
"Me next, Papa!" Lark called, asking for a rare lift. He and Falcon were getting bigger and were rarely lifted as it were. Ten was a big age. But Hawke slung an arm around both her sons and lifted them with Merrill. When she lowered her giggling family, she noticed Isabela watching her with a soft expression. Her daughter was snuggled against her shoulder, thumb stuck into her mouth.
When Hawke leaned in to nuzzle her other shoulder, lips going for her bare throat, Isabela shuddered with pleasure. Magpie's eyes opened from her sleepy blinking as her sire gave attention to her mother.
"You know if you….are….." Hawke's eyes darted to her flat middle. "You'll tell me?"
"Of course, sweet thing," Isabela relaxed under the kisses her mate pressed along her mating mark. She had left her golden choker off over the past few short years, proudly wearing Hawke's mating mark for all who would see it. It was a huge transition from how she was, and Isabela didn't reflect on if it wasn't strong. She loved Hawke. Would be loved by her. And she was pleased with the life they had built.
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A few months had passed. Hawke was delighted when Isabela began to show with proof of their joining and was happy to dote on her proud pirate queen. Isabela barely put up with it at first, aiming daggers and shouts at her happy mate, ordering her away from her every step. Only her pups would she allow to dote on her first in the morning.
Until one morning, Isabela called for Hawke and her mate came running as usual.
"I missed you," was the sheepish response.
Their joy was only slightly tinted sad by Merrill's response. Even able to knot at last during their shared heat, Merrill hadn't conceived. It certainly wasn't by lack of trying. Hawke had consoled her mate when she'd cried. For hours she soothed her, the pups coming out to the beach to give treats and random presents to cheer Merrill up. Craven even bought a few flowers he'd picked from the forest. They were white and beautiful, and Merrill's hands trembled as she accepted them, thanking the large sailor who only gave her a gentle smile and a nod to Hawke as he walked back to the beach.
Magpie's random spurt of magic got her tears to stop.
And, as Hawke had whispered to her second mate, they'd have years still to try for another. If Merrill wanted that. Merrill had perked up. Maggie was as much as hers as Isabela's and she was assured that she had done her part in having Hawke's children.
Hawke was secretly worried. The Stormy Lover had pulled into port at a large town on the main continent, just below Antiva. The port was bustling, and her family was carefully watched over as they made their way through market. The sailors had pulled straws to who would stay on the ship and the rest peeled away to do shopping, to visit an official bathhouse or the local brothel.
On that note, Hawke noticed Mel had disappeared with Craven and smiled to herself. The two had decided to share a small house and seemed to have grown closer.
"Oysters! Oysters and clams!" A vendor cried to Hawke's right. She set her hand on top of Lark's head out of habit as she cast a side glance to her pups. They were dressed in their best and Maggie had pushed her new bonnet off her head. It bobbed along her back, dangling around her neck by its ties. Falcon had a firm hold of her hand.
Merrill was giggling by the children and her soft voice make Hawke smile. Then she saw the wanted poster. There was a few copied by hand and pasted up by the port's announcement board. There was a crude sketch of her, her scar looking far too jagged and large across her nose. The poster read "By order of the Inquisition, report the Champion of Kirkwall to…" There was further instruction, citing her as the culprit of causing the Mage and Templar conflicts, and she was to be turned in. Hawke swallowed. At the bottom of the posters, was a stamp. The fiery eye of the Inquisition seemed to stare at her mockingly.
"Ma, can we?..."
"No! No clams at port. You'll be sick for a week," Isabela said. She covered her mouth with her wrist and gave Hawke an agonizing look. Hawke took her arm and led her to a nearby alley. As Isabela leaned to retch, she stayed, patting her back calmly.
"Your child sickness is lasting longer than last time," Hawke murmured. She rubbed Isabela's back. Isabela wiped her mouth and stood up shakily.
"Your pups are taxing on my strength," she retorted. But she gladly took her mate's arm and leaned against her. "You should cover your head, Hawke."
"You saw the posters?" Hawke asked, tugging her rogue's hood forward. Her features were darkened in shadow. Isabela nodded. She inhaled her mate's unique spicy musk and sighed, feeling better. Her stomach stayed still as they made their way back out to the stalls. Falcon was holding Maggie on his hip, his stockier strength apparent. The boys were close to 11 name days and their height was alarming. Hawke was sure she'd be looking up at them in a few years.
As her eldest son met her eyes, Hawke found herself grinning. She looked between Falcon and Lark, noting the small differences that could tell them apart to those that knew them well. The small mole along Lark's jaw picked him apart. But lately Lark had taken to parting his black hair a separate way. Their clothing still matched, however. It could be a trick of her eyes, but Falcon looked to have stronger arms than his brother. Lark was more lean than his twin. Falcon may have inherited her musculature in the end. They were still growing though. Time would tell.
Hawke sighed in her head. Falcon, her pride. Lark, her joy. And Magpie was her little princess. Maggie struggled against her brother when she caught sight of Hawke. Falcon struggled to hold her, then helped juggle her to Hawke's waiting arms.
As the warm small body pressed against her shoulder, small arms round her neck, Hawke sighed again with happiness. "What are we getting?"
"Foodstuffs. And some more kitchen knives. We shouldn't have to keep using your blades or Craven's machete," Merrill chirped. Hawke nodded.
"We should get a new whetstone for the island. Everyone can use it."
"Good idea, Hawke," Isabela said. She clutched their pouch of gold and silver tightly. Hawke's mother's stash of gold was almost gone, and it was more silver than that, but enough to get what they needed and save the rest. Isabela had half a mind to open up her small island to let new sailors come to live. They had need of a local seamstress and tailor as it were.
Her own crew still kept a schedule to watch her ship and the beach in their day-to-day. Even now, three had been left behind to guard the island community. It was theirs. Isabela would make sure of it.
A few workers of a local restaurant were calling out prices for tables and platters of their dishes and Isabela smiled. "Let's sit, shall we?" Merrill took her other arm and Hawke followed, daughter raised to her shoulder.
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"Be done in an hour," the bent woman said. She held out a wrinkled hand and Mel dropped a few silver coins in. The woman clinked the coins together, smiling. She shut the door to the tiled room.
Craven sighed as he disrobed. Mel's eyes roamed over his large torso, along the thick flesh along his side, and the muscles of his arms. As of late, her gaze always settled between his legs and he half stiffened out of reflex, giving her a shy grin.
"Well, we'd better get in," Mel said briskly. But it was Craven's turn to stare as her robe fell around her feet. She wasn't as buxom as many ladies, and her arms were all wiry muscle from years of sailing. But her belly was flat and her thighs soft, and the rest of her just as soft. Mel was smiling when his eyes traveled back up to her face. "Aye, I'm still here, Craven."
"Me too. Let's get in."
Island life had its own area of ways to obtain daily hygiene. Isabela had had several wooden tubs made and everyone got their soaks in. But the water was mostly cold unless they took time to boil pots of it over a fire.
Sometimes, a good soak in a bathhouse was just the thing. Mel had made the suggestion so Craven had fixed the straw drawing so they could get away. He was congratulating himself as they slid into the hot water. Steam rose up around them. Mel grabbed two chunks of soap and handed him one. They got to work then Mel angled around him to wash his hair and then scrape the soap down his broad back. She lathered it all in, grunting as she kneaded his large muscles. Craven smiled to himself, relaxing in the hot water. Mel's hands were small, sure, but she had the callouses of a sailor. He didn't mind the rough prodding into his muscles.
She crept around his broad side, pushing at his large arm to scrub along his chest and belly. Craven waiting, smiling down at her. Mel traced her fingers softer down his inner forearm. Her fingertips traced the edges of the brand mark. And Craven felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Cold tendrils crept up his spine despite the water's heat.
"That looks like a seal," Mel said. Her pretty face was pursed in concentration. She worked the soap around, then over. The brand was well and scarred. It wasn't going anywhere.
Craven grunted in response. He lowered his eyes. Suddenly, the heat between his legs dissipated, deflating his ardor.
"I thought you'd had a hard life too. Most sailors do," Mel was saying. She lifted Craven's jaw in her hand. The look of understanding in her eyes was too much. Craven swallowed. "I didn't know it was…."
"It was Castillon," Craven rumbled. "I was sold to his possession. The captain…she broke all of our chains and let us free a few years ago. But I'd been a slave for years before that."
"I see…." Mel's voice was soft. She traced her fingers down his chest, smoothing stray wisps of hair down his front. "Isabela wouldn't stand for an injustice. That's not how she leads our crew."
"Aye…." Craven swallowed. "It….it doesn't bother you?"
"Bother me?" Mel raised her head, confused. "Slavery is illegal. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen. When I was a girl, a nobleman came to my father's shop. There were two men in chains beside him, carrying his parcels. I went to offer them water, but the nobleman got upset and my father made me go to the back." She bit her lip. "I just wanted to give them water. My father didn't report the nobleman. So yes, that bothers me."
When Craven made to get out of the tub and away, Mel's hands were on his face. She pressed her brow against his. His beard rasped against her cheek.
"But not in that way. We're still a team. If you'll have me."
Craven wrapped his arms around the thin woman, burying his face against her shoulder. The soft hands that wound down his neck and back were gentle and made him shudder.
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Hawke carried the sack of new bottles onto the Stormy Lover. A few merchants had recognized her and shortly after accepting more gifts of wine and brandy, Hawke had ushered her family onto the ship quickly. Granted, this port was part of a larger city than the island communities around their home, but it was alarming that she was recognized. There were probably wanted posters of her in many ports across Thedas and the isles surrounding it. Everyone, possibly.
"I have to get the rest of the crew….Who went to the brothel?" Isabela asked one of the crew that had been left behind, rather matter-of-factly. He counted off two male betas and one female omega. She sighed. "I'll be back, sweet thing."
"I'll go with you," Hawke said. She pulled her hood forward, collecting her blade. "Stay here, boys."
"Papa!" Magpie cried out once, reaching. Merrill rocked her, saying something softly in elvish. Magpie stuck her thumb in her mouth and settled down. Hawke leaned to kiss her brow and then Merrill's cheek.
"Should I be alarmed you're being recognized here too?" Isabela mumbled to Hawke. Hawke took her hand as they walked off the gangplank.
"I don't want that to be, Bela. I don't want them to come after my family."
"But what about you?" Isabela asked. She relished the feel of Hawke's hand in hers. "Will they find you?"
"No. If I have to stay on the island, so be it, love," Hawke promised. But even as she said it and saw the smile on her mate's lips, she couldn't help it. Guilty. She felt guilty. She had been at the base of the conflict between the mages and templars of Kirkwall. That conflict had erupted and spilled out across Thedas. And blame was pointed directly at her. What did the Inquisition want? What could she even do?
Hawke pushed into a few of the brothel's rooms, knocking hard and finding Isabela's sailors. Isabela was teasing the omega about her choice of a time, a rather large and muscular lad. He blew the blushing woman a teasing kiss as he hitched his trousers up. Hawke kept her gaze from his many….endowments as she helped the omega walk to the front room. Her legs were just so wobbly.
"Out, out, I don't care," Isabela was saying to the two betas she'd rounded up. The young men grinned sheepishly but were dressed and accounted for.
"Why are we leaving so early, boss?" one of the beta men asked. He yawned, scratching at his side as they were led to the street and port. The omega gave a soft cry and her legs tumbled. Isabela didn't mind when Hawke swung her up into her arms to carry back to the ship.
"I'll explain once we leave," Isabela said. "Had a good tumble, girl?" The omega squeaked in Hawke's arms. Her arm twined uncertainly around her neck.
Hawke gave her a smile and gently asked she keep her hood pulled forward while her hands were full. The sailor nodded.
Once on the Stormy Lover, preparations were underway after roll call was essentially ticked off. The omega staggered on wobbly legs when Hawke set her down. Hawke gripped her elbow to keep her upright and the sailors teased her.
"Went to the brothel, eh?"
"Who was it you picked? They wore you out!"
"Hawke, can you take her to the barracks? She needs to rest and get her legs back," Isabela suggested. Hawke sighed and picked the omega back up. She tried to ignore the flicker of interest from the girl's aura and kept her chi resolutely still.
Back on deck, Hawke saw her mate had called attention. Those that had work to secure the lines kept an ear open as they guided the Stormy Lover out to sea.
"There are agents looking for Hawke. And I don't have to ask you to keep silent on where she is," Isabela was saying. The sailors nodded. All of them liked the couple and their island home. They would protect both in an equally loyal fashion.
Hawke settled by her sons and listened to their stories of what they'd seen at the market stalls. But her mind went back to the city they'd fled, the damage her joining the mage's side had caused, the templars that had shown her respect and let them leave. Was Varric alright? Was Aveline and her husband? Was the city a fire-laden crater of what it once was, or had there been steps to rebuild?
And if the Inquisition did have the right to question her, what could she possibly do to help? Hawke couldn't keep the guilt from twisting her gut in knots. She had been partially responsible for the expulsion of thousands of citizens, and the deaths of countless others. Hawke flicked her eyes to her mate who had finished her speech and was joking with Mel.
She had to keep those thoughts at bay. They'd left, fled in the wake of the flames erupting from her mistakes. They were safe, their pups were growing, and her mates were happy. Hawke felt a more genuine smile curve her lips as she approached Isabela.
And their new pup would be born into loving arms.
End for now
End notes: A bit of a time jump here, at least a few months so Bela's in second trimester. On we go! Like it, leave a review :P
Pen 5/19/2019