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"Catching the Wind"
Chapter forty "Searches and Heartbreak"
Crestwood was a wet mess. Grey skies, shining green grass and trees, and rain falling every moment it seemed. Hawke sneezed, burrowing further under her hood. She was soaked and utterly miserable. Seeing her children's faces in her mind's eye added to the misery. She imagined the twins would love the rain, pushing their hoods back and running about splashing in the puddles. Magpie would try to stay dry under the tree branches. She absolutely hated getting wet and she'd actually speak up if the twins tried to splash her. Sparrow was too little to risk the wet.
But her boots were about soaked through from the mud puddles and Hawke was tired of it all. She wished it would stop raining, but that was a futile wish. The skies were a dark uniform grey and clouds blanketed the lands.
Hawke found a partial trail of flattened grass from a previous traveler and followed it past a rocky hillside. Further down she could see the tell-tale signs of a cave and ducked in to enter. Nugs ran quickly from her long stride and Hawke squinted in the near dark. There was a fire further back and a makeshift wooden door was erected, separating what was back form the cave's hall. Hawke carefully pushed it open and stepped in.
A larger cavernous room, a firepit taking grand residence in the center. A few make-shift tables were placed near it, papers and other tools scattered across the surfaces. Hawke glanced; the papers on one was full of locations, instructions, your standard Grey Warden mess. Hawke wondered if Stroud knew where her sister was at present when the man ducked in from another unseen hall. Hawke's hand flew to her sword hilt before she relaxed.
"Stroud," she said. The mustachioed man smiled; the long lines of his facial hair pulled with the movement.
"Hawke. How do you fare?" he asked as they shook hands. Hawke shook her head, trying to dry off her damp hair.
"Wet, miserable. Any word on where Corypheus's forces are?"
"The Wardens have traveled further north. They're scouting the terrain there," he mused conversationally. "We will meet our journey's end once he's cornered."
Hawke couldn't stop the grimace on her face. "I will help seal or kill Corypheus. You have my word."
"It should end with us," Stroud agreed. Hawke tapped one wet boot on the dirt floor. She hoped his words were devoid of a hint of finality.
"The Inquisitor's party is nearby. Shall I lead them here soon?"
Stroud nodding, stirring the pot over the cook fire.
"Of course. I dare say we should get started."
Hawke ducked back under her wet hood into the driving rain. The sooner they could garner their information, the sooner they could get to Corypheus. And hopefully she'd be on her way home all the sooner.
Cassandra Pentaghast was on watch near one end of the Inquisitor's camp as Hawke came up over the hill toward it. Hawke gave her a curt nod. She didn't think they'd ever be friends after what she'd seen in that room with Varric, but she didn't need the Seeker's friendship to finish her mission.
"Hawke! Any good news?" Varric crowed from the campfire. The Inquisitor was looking over a deck of playing cards with their own Grey Warden, Blackwall. The man looked put out as the woman's attention went from him toward the Ex-Champion and Varric noted it. Hawke hoped he could use the erstwhile love triangle in one of his future stories. Blackwall was probably hoping to get close to Inquisitor Cadash without her apparent beau present.
"Aye," Hawke called. She huddled nearer the campfire hoping to dry off for a few minutes. Some well-meaning soldiers had spread tarps in the tree branches above so at least here the rain wasn't dripping on her. She gave a sudden sneeze and swore she could feel the imprints of her children's hands clutching at the edges of her cloak. Hawke sighed deeply. "I've found Grey Warden Stroud's camp. We're not that far from it."
"That's good," Cadash said, a smile darting across her features. "Shall we leave soon?"
"That's fine," Hawke agreed. Varric laughed as he sidled up with the Inquisitor.
"What'd I tell you, Inquisitor? Hawke always delivers," he grinned. Hawke was glad for his cheer as she knelt beside the warm fire. She sighed and pulled her hood over her damp hair as the Inquisitor's party stepped back out into the steady rain.
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The sailor ran up the gangplank and crashed up onto the wheel deck area. Isabela looked up from her maps. Craven took the large parchment and rolled it up.
"Well, what is it?" she asked of the out-of-breath sailor. The man wheezed to catch his breath.
"I was asking around the square and a notary clerk said….he's got letters for you!" he said. The look on Isabela's face was odd. She found herself nodding though.
"Good…show me where his shop is," she said. The sailor led her to town. Craven watched her go. When Mel stopped at his shoulder, he sighed, patting her hand as she leaned on him.
"We should go with her."
"Let her go by herself. If she's not back soon, then we'll search," Mel said sensibly. "she probably needs to be alone to read a letter left by Hawke."
Isabela barely registered the clerk's flirting as she obtained the leather satchel left by her mate. She glanced inside as she paid him; there were several sealed letters.
"Why don't you come to the tavern later? You remember my friend, right?" the clerk went on, trying to get her attention.
Isabela heard only every other word. "Fine, bloody fantastic," she muttered, heading for the door, ignoring the bright smile on the man's face. Out in the busy square, she looked around. The sun was out, there were families and businessmen and women holding daily court together. But she couldn't acknowledge their world when hers was in the gutter.
Isabela's footsteps took her slowly along. She rifled through the satchel. There seemed to be one letter for each pup, one for Merrill…and one for her. How bloody considerate of her. Isabela frowned to herself.
"Sit for a moment, ma'am?" A waitress asked as Isabela walked through an outdoor café. Isabela sank into a chair beside the water and pulled her letter out. Her fingers trembled.
"Whiskey. Bring the bottle," Isabela ordered. The waitress nodded her head and rushed off. Isabela slowly opened her envelope and smoothed out the parchment.
'My dearest Isabela…..' Isabela sighed as she read and re-read the apologetic and somewhat flowery words. She had to read it all over again to get the gist of it. Many apologies, gentle reminders to take care of their children. 'I promise I won't take on anything too dangerous and will return as soon as I can…'
Isabela's fingers crumpled the letter into a ball. She should just throw it into the water beside her….but she found herself smoothing out the rumpled paper and with a sigh, shoved it back into the satchel. The poor pups…. And Merrill! She'd left Kitten for far too long and without any good news. No hint of where Hawke was.
"Damn you…" Isabela mumbled aloud.
The waitress set a glass and a bottle of whiskey on the table before her. "Did you say something, ma'am?"
Isabela looked up, blinking through the tears forming in her eyes. "No…..thank you, lass."
Isabela sat sipping and drinking for far too long. The bottle was over halfway empty when she set a few gold coins down and picked up the satchel.
Her remaining sailors were going about tasks and chores on her deck as Isabela climbed the gangplank to the Stormy Lover.
"Where are the rest?" she asked Craven. The large man frowned with concern at her. All of Isabela's ire was gone, replaced with a resolute depression.
"Some went to the brothel and market. A few of us stayed….Cap'n are you alright?" he asked suddenly. Isabela gave a crooked smile that held no joy. She patted the satchel slung over one shoulder.
"Got some letters. Hawke left that at least," she said trying to sound jovial. Craven wasn't convinced. "We'll sail back tomorrow morning."
"Shall I have Cook send dinner to your cabin?" Craven called. Isabela waved one hand idly. She disappeared below deck. Craven sighed. Mel climbed up to the wheel platform and leaned against his shoulder.
"She doesn't look angry anymore. I don't think that's good," she mused. Craven leaned into his lover's warmth.
"No, it's not….."
"I'll bring her dinner. She may forget it," Mel said. Craven nodded.
"I'm worried about her."
"I am too." Mel turned and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Craven knelt down and met her halfway. A few moments of warmth and he felt like his world was turning back to rights again. Mel smiled up at him as they parted. "We'll keep an eye on her."
"As much as we can."
The two sailors stood on the deck watching the sun arch overhead toward setting. Their colleagues rambled up the gangplank, finished with their chores or outings, laughing and joking. Craven hoped better days would come for Isabela and her family.
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"She's back!" Falcon called. Lark rushed up beside him, Magpie hot on their heels. A shout erupted behind them and Lark winced. He ducked back and picked up Sparrow who was toddling slowly on the sand. Merrill was close by too, the family lined up on the beach as the Stormy Lover pulled up and weighed anchor.
Falcon felt his heart pounding in his chest as the dinghies were lowered and rowed toward the beach. He saw his mother, captain's hat on her head. Craven and Mel and a few other sailors were in the dinghy with her. No Papa. His eyes darted to the other boats and his heart sank further.
"She didn't find her," Lark muttered morosely. Merrill gave a soft sigh and covered her eyes with one hand. Lark took her other hand and squeezed. Merrill tried to smile for him and the other pups, but tears were in her eyes.
"Well, let's welcome Mama back. She probably had a rough trip," Merrill said wisely. Falcon stepped into the water, to help pull his mother's dinghy onto the sand. He held a hand up and helped Isabela hop down out of the spray. Isabela's hands clapped onto his shoulders and she pulled him in for a quick hug. Falcon sighed against her as she moved to the other pups. Lark got a tight hug, and Magpie tugged at Isabela's tunic hem. Isabela knelt and picked her and Sparrow up in her arms.
Sparrow's arms twined around her neck and Isabela exchanged soft words with her quiet daughter. Magpie gave her a silent nod, eyes wide with worry.
"Bela," Merrill said. The pirate set Magpie down and propped Sparrow on one hip. Merrill accepted half a hug from her, and the two women stared at each other, silent agony in their gazes. 'Don't worry the pups' was in their look. Also, the failure to find Hawke was in Isabela's dark eyes. Merrill squeezed her waist. "I'm sorry…."
"I…well I found she'd left us letters…" Isabela shrugged. Sparrow tugged at the collar of her tunic and she captured her pudgy hand, kissing it. "I have yours….."
A cold shiver of fear went through Merrill. She gave a brave nod, but agony was in her gaze. "Oh, Bela…."
"Nothing else. I looked. Several ports." Isabela's lips pressed into a tight line as her sons hovered, unsure of what to ask, or say. She shook her head and tried to flash a mad grin to her daughter staring up at her. "Well, we'll go search again. But I had to come bring these back for you."
"Thanks, Mama…" Falcon took the satchel and took his letter out, passing Lark's to him. They picked out the envelopes labeled to Magpie and Sparrow. "We'll just…read these to them…."
"Good idea, son." Isabela moved toward the captain's house, her stride sure. "I already read mine so…."
That made sense. Falcon knew his mother tried to fluff off bad feelings sometimes and it was in her every gesture the hurt of being left behind. He and Lark met eyes, worry exchanged between them silently. They made to follow Isabela, but she ducked through the kitchen and into the attached storeroom after passing Sparrow off to them. She shut the door firmly behind her.
The twins sighed. Sparrow gave a sharp cry and reached for the door. "Mama! Mama!"
"What do we do?" Lark asked miserably. Falcon took Sparrow to the main room. Magpie was clutching her envelope, staring at it.
"Letters….then get Mamae. She'll help," Falcon decided. He stared out at the beach where their second mother was walking along the sand listlessly.
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Merrill picked her way across the beach.
The sailors of Isabela's crew had the odd bonfire raised up and down the expanse of land. The rest of the crew were inside their houses. Lantern light marked the windows she passed. Merrill wrapped her arms around her middle as she moved. The nights were cooler with the departure of the sun, and she should have grabbed a cloak.
But she wouldn't be gone long. The pirate must surely understand her want to be alone with her thoughts. They weren't nice ones. Isabela hadn't found Hawke. But she'd found a satchel of letters kept for them. She took hers out of her tunic front and broke the seal with her thumbnail. Merrill sat on the cooling sand and unfolded the piece of parchment. Her fingers trembled as she read, and tears quickly filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks to gather and pool off the edge of her jaw. Sniffles filled the air and Merrill gave an audible sob, rubbing her sleeve against her eyes. She'd been too afraid to open it until she had a free moment, and definitely not in front of the children. They'd been given their own letters and the twins took care of reading aloud the girl's and there had been small sniffles already.
Hawke had written she loved her. That she was sorry. That she would come back. But her heart still hurt, as if it were permanently cracked and wouldn't heal over until her mate returned. Hawke still loved her, of course! She shouldn't cry as if she didn't. But Merrill couldn't stop her tears from overflowing. She hugged her knees to her chest, arms going around them as the letter fell to the sand. The sun was setting, on better days, on warm embrace.
"She'll be back….she promised," Merrill murmured aloud. She scrubbed her wet eyes with her damp sleeve again. "Oh, Hawke…."
After several minutes of crying, Merrill was starting to gather herself when she heard the whisper. A deep guttural voice hissed a question. The elf looked around sharply. None of the sailors were near, and the bodiless voice sounded as if it were coming from a different plane entirely. The Fade? Perhaps...for as she focused, she could make out the question coming toward her, overlapping in hissing tones barely audible to her pointed ears.
"…Will you trade? Blood for a glimpse…..your lost mate…."
"What are you…" Merrill began, when she clasped her forearms with both hands. Her fingers splayed over the thin white scars across her arms. "You want blood magic….don't you?"
The bodiless voice snickered, and the laughter rolled over her like the tolling of a small bell. Merrill shivered.
"Yes…and you want it too, I imagine. Only I can show you your beloved mate, where she sleeps, what she's doing so far away….You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Demon. It had to be. Merrill shivered, scanning the beach as the sun set and the darkness began to creep over the island. She should get back to the captain's house, her house. Pick up her daughters, touch her sons. The demon's voice wouldn't follow her there….would it?
"I…no! I can't!"
"Why not?" The voice was very close now. Practically inside her ear. Merrill shivered and picked up Hawke's letter, folding it clutched against her chest for protection. "Just a cut. A small one if you wish. Give me blood…and I'll show you your Hawke…."
Merrill stood, sand brushed against her leggings. She didn't bother wiping it off as she darted back up towards the woods and the houses. "No!...I can't…I can't….."
"Can't what?" Suddenly, Lark was in the doorway of the captain's house, backlit against the bright lantern light inside. Merrill was never so glad to see one of the children as she was then. She reached and trembled, wrapping her arm around the tall boy. Lark hugged her back and Merrill leaned on him gladly.
Falcon pushed forward, Magpie on his leg, and holding Sparrow to his shoulder. His wide worried eyes met hers and Merrill leaned forward, heart melting with guilt.
"Here, let me take her," Merrill offered and took Sparrow into her arms. Falcon knelt and picked up Magpie from the floor.
"Mama's in the storeroom," Falcon said, and his worried tone said it all. The bottles of brandy and wine that had been gifted to their papa were stored there. Merrill sighed aloud.
"Is she now? I'll go check on her. Don't worry, son. Can you stir the stew on the stove?" she suggested. Falcon nodded and he and Lark pushed toward the kitchen. Merrill sighed and hoisted Sparrow on one hip as she moved through the kitchen. She paused at the storeroom door then opened it, admitting only herself the baby.
The door closed behind her.
End for now
End notes: like it, drop a review. Stay strong, lovelies.
Pen 11/2/2019