Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2/3."
Author's notes: Leave a review if you like. As we move into fall then winter let's hope the words still come.
"Catching the wind"
Chapter thirty-nine "Searching"
Hawke surveyed the room she'd been given. It was in one of the buildings around back behind the castle's tavern. There were adjoining rooms but luckily Hawke had been given her own. That was how she preferred it and she didn't want to hear the merriment of others when sleep and dreams may give her glimpses of her family.
Her mates…pups….Hawke fisted the brooch in her tunic pocket. She sighed. The surgeon in the room next door had introduced herself and her few patients still on bed rest. Hawke had shaken her hand readily enough but she still felt lonely.
Hawke pushed out the door to step outside. Her boots crunched on the grass and she covered her eyes with one wrist. The sky seemed closer up here and the blue was dazzling to her senses. Angela padded beside her, panting happily. And that's when Hawke heard the shout.
It wasn't one of the soldiers practicing swordplay nearby, but a familiar one, his tone anxious. That was Varric! Where was he and why did he sound so distressed? Hawke jogged to one of the nearby doors of the surrounding building and pushed in. She barely had time to let her eyes adjust when she made out Varric. The dwarf was bodily ducking and Hawke saw Cassandra fly past him, arm outstretched. Varric's dodge made her strike miss and she almost spun out on the floor from the force of her momentum. The sight would have been comical had Varric not looked fearful.
"Wait! Wait!" The dwarf was shouting to Cassandra, panting as he righted himself and ran around the edge of a nearby table. The Seeker was hot on his heels and Hawke was advancing, hand reaching for her sword hilt, and missing. She'd left her weapon in her room. But her dagger was attached to her belt, so she drew, charging the Seeker directly up against the brick wall. Angela barked wildly beside her and his jaws latched onto Cassandra's leather pant leg. She grunted with pain, pushing back up against Hawke's strength, but she could not be budged.
Hawke began to press her dagger into the soft flesh of the woman's throat when Varric pushed forward to grab her arm. "Hawke! I'm okay!"
Hawke flicked her eyes to him but kept her hold on the Seeker. "Are you sure about that?"
"I missed, didn't I?" Cassandra hissed between grit teeth.
"Just a love tap," Varric insisted. "Ease up, it's alright."
Hawke reluctantly let the scowling woman go. She re-sheathed her dagger and snapped her fingers to Angela. To her credit, Cassandra didn't cry out with pain the whole time Angela had his jaws on her. "Why were you swinging on him?" she demanded.
Cassandra smoothed her hair back and glowered at Varric who backed up again. "He lied to me about you. He knew where you were the whole time…"
Hawke blinked. "Not really. He didn't know where exactly."
"I had to leave a letter for her," Varric explained. Cassandra glowered. Hawke wondered whether she ever chose to look other than irate and constipated.
"You still were deceitful," she insisted. Hawke crossed her arms.
"You'll keep your hands off him. I'll be watching you."
Varric patted Hawke's arm, feeling suddenly pleased. "There's the watch dog I know."
Hawke gave him a confused look, as her battle high receded. She blinked to keep a headache back. "Watch dog?"
Angela barked.
Varric nodded. "I missed that in some ways. And lying for my friends? Oh yes, I'd do it again."
Hawke had to smile at that as Cassandra stalked off.
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Isabela cursed as the crew tied the ship off at port. Craven caught Mel's eye and they both nodded, charging after the captain as she ordered the gangplank dropped. Once it thumped onto the dock, she stalked off quickly.
"Tie off!" he shouted to the crew. They all nodded and went about their tasks.
Isabela's anger had not dissipated in the slightest and Craven was running on empty trying to keep up with her. He and Mel had barely gotten any sleep in the past few days. This was the third port and the third town. He feared they wouldn't find mention of Hawke here either and Isabela wasn't going to like that.
A few taverns and bars were looked through, but the owners and barkeeps alike had not seen her mate. Isabela was fuming when she ordered a bottle of brandy. She pried the cork off with her teeth and spat it out. Craven sighed as Isabela took a long pull then kept sipping, throat bobbing as she swallowed the liquor.
"Fucking hell," she cursed as she came up for air. Mel sighed.
"Maybe we should get a meal, Cap'n," she said. Isabela waved the bottle.
"I'll eat when I'm good and ready," she glowered. Mel held her hands up.
Isabela decided to sit at a table with a few rough and tumble sailors. Her own crew had stayed on the ship, and Craven could only be grateful. The captain was bad enough to babysit now without adding everyone else in. But Isabela was not proving tractable at all. She drank heavily, laughing raucously with the rough men who showered attention and compliments on her. Craven hoped Isabela wouldn't try to bed any of them, for he'd protect her. She was Hawke's mate. And she would feel bad about it later, he knew.
Mel tensed at his side and Craven drank a sip of water slowly. "We should stop this," she said tersely. Craven agreed.
"Let's interrupt. She'll be mad but…"
Isabela's punch at the man next to her shouldn't have surprised him yet it still did. He must have said something that riled the pirate up for she began a brawl with the sailors she had erstwhile befriended. The rest swore or laughed and tried to get the better of her. Craven yanked one of the sailors back with one large hand, tossing him up and over his shoulder for good measure. The crash behind him was satisfying and he knew the man wouldn't be back up for more.
"Cap'n!" Mel yelled. She unsheathed her blade and rushed to defend Isabela from one of the sailors. She shoved his sword back with hers. Isabela unsheathed and joined the fray, shoving one of the men back from advancing on her sailor.
"Back up, asshole!" she swore. Local soldiers flooded the tavern and Craven cringed as they surrounded his captain and lover. Mel offered her sword hilt first and held her other palm up. Isabela did not comply. She fought the armored soldiers and Craven grabbed one of them up by the throat to stop from knocking her out.
"Cap'n!" he pleaded. Isabela swore, then threw her dagger at one of the soldier's feet in a non-agreeable manner. The captain of the team reached to her other sheathed dagger, taking it quickly.
"Fine, fine! Hey, watch the hands!" Isabela cursed. Mel kept pace beside her as the soldiers clapped manacles on her wrists and led her to the jail house. Craven ran quickly behind.
"We'll get you out, Cap'n," Craven promised. Isabela cursed and kicked, finally having to be carried off by three of the soldiers. Mel wrung her hands as they were halted outside the jail house doors.
"She's going to get herself hurt the way she keeps going on!" she fretted. Craven patted her shoulder. He sighed when Mel pressed her face into his large shoulder
"They'll let her cool her heels, then let us post bail. Come on, we should look through the ledgers in her cabin and get the coin," Craven insisted. Mel nodded. They took off for the docks, ignoring the blond elf passing them, his own prisoner in tow.
"My, you have your hands full," the man observed to the soldier at the front desk. Angry feminine shouts erupted from further back in the jail house. The man sighed and scratched a name down on the ledger in front of him.
"Zevran. Thanks for bringing this lot in," the soldier said. Zevran handed the man over and collected a small bag of coins. He jingled it merrily, tossed it into the air and caught it with his other hand.
"Anytime. Good luck with that wildcat I hear," he grinned showing even white teeth. The soldier winced as another man poured from the back. His eye was darkening from a punch, swollen and angry.
"Could you help us? She's like a demon!" the man gasped for breath. The soldier jumped up and Zevran shrugged, joining the men at the back of the corridors. Five soldiers were trying to herd and or shove a woman into a cell. She was Rivaini by the look of her, then her head turned and Zevran gasped.
"Isabela!" he exclaimed. Isabela spit at the man beside her and was cuffed for it. The assassin angrily stepped forward. "Let her go!"
"Friend of yours, Zevran?" one of the soldiers growled. The elf nodded. He shoved at two of the men to back off his manacled friend.
"She is! What's she done? Come now, it can't be that bad." Zevran figured it wouldn't hurt to pour on the charm. Isabela rolled her eyes, but her wrists were released from their binds.
"Started a brawl at the local tavern."
Zevran snickered. "Again?"
"It hasn't been that often a thing!" Isabela huffed. Not since her pups, of course.
"Right." Zevran juggled his new coin pouch, hefting the amount. He then tossed the pouch to the captain of the soldiers and saluted him. "Well I'd say that covers her. And I'll take her off your hands."
"Oh, I bet you will," Isabela couldn't help drawling. Zevran's wit was easing her perpetual bad mood as of late. Damn Hawke….
"What say you?" Zevran pressed. The mustachioed captain nodded, pocketing the pouch of coins.
"Fine. " He aimed a huge finger at Isabela's face. "Don't let me catch you here again."
"As if I'd be caught in this cesspool again," Isabela hissed. Zevran took her by the elbow and led her away.
"Really, now, Isabela, they'll just lead you right back to that cell," he scolded. The grin on his face belied his words. Isabela cuffed his shoulder.
"Shut up, Zev," she retorted. "Not unless you got more to drink."
"And then some." Zevran led her to a small inn he was rooming at and bought another bottle of whiskey. They shared it in the corner of the main room, both drinking and catching up.
"She's gone? Truly gone? I doubt that," Zevran said. Isabela glared at her friend.
"Well she's certainly not at home! What the hell do you mean?" she asked. Zevran held his hands up.
"Anyone with eyes can see she loves you. And you have pups together. It's not forever. She's just off to do a thing for the Inquisition. She'll be back after it. I know it."
Isabela had to admit Zevran was making sense. Even if she didn't want to believe it. "She could have told me….."
Zevran nodded, sipping from the bottle. "Yes, she should have….You're mad about that. And you should be."
"Wait 'til I get my hands on her…."
"Could I have a turn before you turn her into a pulpified mess? She really is a skilled alpha…." Zevran drooled in memory. The smack he got he should have anticipated. But not the tears springing in Isabela's eyes. "Well, hell, this is serious."
"You think?!" Isabela spat out. She put her head on her arms. Zevran patted her hair calmly.
"It's a new look, Bela. But you're in for the long haul. I get that."
"Fuck her leaving!" Isabela said suddenly. Zevran nodded.
"I'll agree with that. Fuck her leaving!"
The bottle was passed back and forth and Isabela laughed as she and Zevran staggered through the streets back towards the dock, swaying every which way together. As they tripped up the gangplank to the Stormy Lover, the sailors on watch exclaimed and rushed to help them up.
Craven almost collapsed at the sight of her. "Where were you?! When we went to post bail, they'd said you'd gone!"
"Cap'n, we were worried!" Mel insisted. Isabela just laughed and waved her bottle, leading Zevran below deck. Craven kept a hold on their arms lest they trip and fall down the staircase.
"Met up with Zev! Zev, this is muh crew," Isabela slurred. The elf laughed and they stumbled into the captain's quarters. Isabela collapsed on her bed and sniffed at Zevran plopping in one of the nailed-down chairs. "Don't be getting any ideas."
"Never, dear friend," Zevran insisted. As they talked on through their inebriation, Isabela finally began to relax. For the first time in days. When she fell asleep on the captain's bed, Zevran covered her with the coverlet and blew out the lantern.
He hoped Hawke could be found. For Isabela's sake.
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Hawke sighed as she pushed into the castle's make-shift tavern. A Qunari was laughing boisterously in the corner, entertaining a motley crew of humans and elves. His large horns made Hawke look twice but she kept her hand off her dagger. Varric had explained briefly the Inquisitor's companions and knew to expect him. And the Iron Bull was far more tractable than the Arishok had been.
Varric was nowhere to be seen. He must be entertaining a maid or two in private. Hawke ordered a flagon of ale and took it to a corner table. She nursed it and ordered dinner from a passing servant.
The bartender didn't ask any questions or try to make small talk. When Hawke asked about his selections, he'd just said "Yup." Hawke knew she was in good hands there. She knew word would spread about her arrival to the castle and waned to minimize its impact. Kirkwall's burning weighed heavily on her mind and heart.
Hawke nursed her ale. The serving girl came back with a bowl of piping hot stew. Hawke thanked her and spooned through it listlessly. There were big chunks of beef and tomatoes that should have cheered her. The hot liquid going down her throat did loosen up some of the cold that had settled somewhere in her chest.
'You big idiot. You chose to come here. Without Bela. Without Merrill…' Hawke wondered how her pups were doing. The sadness she could picture on their faces made bile rise in her throat. She took a heavy pull at her ale to swallow it down. Isabela must be so furious. Imagining the ferocious anger on her beautiful face pitched Hawke's heart. And Merrill…. She would be teary-eyed. Hawke didn't know if her sweet elf would ever be mad at her.
'But now I bet she would be.' Hawke stared morosely down into the bowl of stew. She forced another bite then another. She had to take care of herself if she was going to get back to her family in one piece.
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Merrill sighed as she rocked Sparrow to her shoulder. The toddler was fussing, obviously unhappy with everything. She sang and whispered to her and tried to calm her but apparently Sparrow just needed to let it out. Merrill sighed as exhaustion threatened to weight her eyelids down.
Something tugged at her sleeve and Merrill opened her eyes, juggling the fussy toddler. Falcon looked solemn and held his hands out to take the baby. Merrill sighed. She held Sparrow out who struggled in her brother's grip, then leaned into his shoulder. "Thank you, Fal."
"Course, Mamae," the boy muttered. He looked as weary as she felt but sinking into the couch, Merrill couldn't find it in her to take her turn back. Falcon walked round the main room, rocking the toddler and humming softly to her. He couldn't carry a tune like Isabela, but it still was good enough.
Merrill closed her eyes a moment, listening to Sparrow's indignant wails. She remembered a quieter time with Hawke in Kirkwall, before Isabela had come back. She had been seated in her dining hall and had dragged Merrill to sit on her lap. An eager smile had been on her lips and Merrill had been too happy to receive her attentions, giggling as she was kissed and touched, held firmly on her alpha's lap like a prize she'd won. Hawke had always plucked her heart strings, coaxing her to open and give her affections. She always considered their love a lucky thing…..
Sparrow wailed again and Merrill's tired eyes snapped open. Sparrow had punched her brother in the jaw, but he took it in stride, wincing. A good thing too for she calmed, fisting the collar of his tunic as the strength seemed to deflate out of her. Finally, the toddler relaxed in his grip, and Falcon sank into the couch on the other side. Sparrow laid in his lap and her eyes finally closed. The tall boy's hand moved over her dark curls carefully. He gave a small smile to his watching mamae.
"She's not having an easy time of it," Merrill whispered by way of apology. Falcon's green eyes iced over slightly. He nodded, but Merrill noted how the oldest child tried to stave off his anger about Hawke's leaving.
"None of us are. She's just confused. Mama won't be back awhile longer, will she?"
Merrill blinked and the tall boy looked his age, his youthful visage suddenly worried. Merrill patted his arm.
"Soon enough, I hope. Someone needed to look for your papa."
"Why'd she leave?" That question wasn't easy to hear. Merrill swallowed.
"It seems an old friend wrote to her. And she felt she had to help….."
"Like back at Kirkwall?" Falcon remembered. Merrill nodded, remembering all the scrapes, the misadventures and missions.
"Just like back then. I just wish…..she took your mama. Or me," Merrill admitted. Falcon knew Papa had fought alongside both his mothers. Mamae had her magic and his mother was good with blades. Like how she was teaching Lark. He swallowed.
"I wish she told us," he said miserably. "Before she left…."
"I know…." Merrill stroked his dark hair affectionately. Small tears pricked Falcon's eyes. A tactile memory pressed in, of Isabela stroking his hair when he was so little sharing the same bed with Lark. "But your papa does love you. Of that I'm certain."
"Yeah…." Falcon hugged Sparrow close, watching her small chest rise and fall as she napped. "I just wish she didn't have to go."
"Me too, Fal," Merrill admitted. Lark entered the main room with Magpie in tow. She had gathered the herbs she was asked to in their previous lesson. Merrill sighed in her head but went over the lesson with her daughter. At least they could try to carry on with a sense of normalcy. Hawke would want that to be so.
End for now
End notes: Like it, hate it, leave a few words in a review. Music tracks while writing: Track "April" from "Mass Effect: Paragon Lost" soundtrack, "Glory of love" by Peter Cetera, various "Game of Thrones" show instrumentals, "I was lost without you" from "Mass Effect 3" and a few others.
Pen 10/5/2019