Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2 or 3." Nada thing.
Author's notes: Outside the Fade, events going on. Here we go; I'm not ready but I hope you all are! Anything that was talked about plot wise that came from CharlieBarrow is credited to her. Or what I could remember. Enjoy, readers.
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter forty-five "Harrowing News"
Isabela walked single file with the other villagers traveling high on the mountain pass toward Skyhold. A year. A whole bloody year, of half living, searching, and watching her children try to get through their days. Craven and Mel were with her now, sensing a need for silent aide as it were. Isabela was silently grateful, but she still jested with her sailors offhand. She'd left her sons at home on this trip. If Hawke were still out in the field, she didn't want them to feel that slice of disappointment again.
The rumor mill among the villagers was promising. Apparently, the bulk of the Inquisitor's forces had returned weeks before, and among petitioners, there were relatives of Inquisition soldiers who hoped to seek their family members.
Isabela flicked her eyes skyward and said a silent prayer to….something. She didn't believe in the Maker, not really, and she could never be called sincere when it came to prayer. But if she prayed to anything, it was for continuation of love and her bond with Hawke. If she had to pray to a whiskey bottle to do so, she would.
"Line up! Line up…." Inquisition soldiers manning the open gates of Skyhold commanded. The nobles and peasants alike formed up and Isabela tried not to tap her boot in frustration.
"Are we to use our names?" Craven murmured next to her shoulder and up, a good two heads taller. He'd slouched so his words would reach only hers and Mel's ears. Isabela shrugged.
"Their big mission is over and done. I say we go in as we are and maybe…" Isabela's eyes focused on the horizon, thoughtful. By turns, she seemed angry, agitated and just overall fearful. The 'maybe' didn't have to be spoken aloud.
"Aye, Cap'n," Mel agreed.
"You, what's your name?" One soldier asked Isabela. She gave a jaunty smile.
"Captain Isabela. I'd like access to search for my mate."
The soldier glanced over at his partner. He scratched her name on a scrap of parchment with a quill. "And your companions?"
"My sailors. Don't mind them, they're just along for the ride."
"Mind your business and your manners, Captain," the man said, standing aside so Isabela could stride into the gate and into the grassy courtyard.
"Will do…" Isabela murmured. She shaded her eyes with her gauntlet, staring up at the sky. The commotion in the courtyard and among the soldiers and their families gave her pause. Here, a man was embraced by his children, his wife slinging her arms about his neck; there, a teenaged soldier greeted by his elderly parents. Hope, bloody stupid and surging within her, flooded her heart and Isabela had to swallow several times to clear her mouth. Spirits, she could use a drink. Hawke first, drink later. Then they'd have a fight, or a tumble, or whatever came first depending on how her reaction was. Isabela wasn't certain how their reunion would go, but she needed to find her.
Now that they were in Skyhold itself, Inquisition soldiers and castle workers moving about her in lines of people, urgency flooded Isabela's stomach like a stone. She scanned the people, young and old, male and female, alpha and beta and even omega, trying to scent her mate, to find the head of dark hair and see the scar across the face she knew so well. Strange, she didn't know many Grey Wardens had signed up with the Inquisition…
One slender woman with shoulder length black hair turned, clad in Grey Warden's robes. And Isabela stopped, mouth dropping in surprise. Bethany noticed her at the exact same moment, and she rushed toward Isabela.
"Isabela!" she greeted, a smile darting across her lips. Isabela was surprised when Hawke's sister threw her arms about her and she couldn't begrudge the meeting.
"Well, hey yourself!" she laughed. Or tried to. The stone in her stomach wouldn't go away.
"Where are your pups?" Bethany asked eagerly and Isabela's heart went out to her. Being a Grey Warden meant she was always at her duty. They couldn't release her for her own family business it seemed, not with the mess the Inquisition's forces had been fighting for years. But Corypheus was dead, and that hopefully meant an end to Hawke's duty…
"Back home, I'm afraid. Mel, Craven, this is Hawke's sister," Isabela introduced. Her eyes went back to darting over the men and women around them. As the sailors greeted Bethany, Isabela tried not to grimace. "Looks like we'll have to go inside and knock some heads for news. That or get Varric. He has to be back here."
"Varric's here?" Bethany positively lit up at the news. "Oh, how I missed him! How's he been doing?"
"Afraid I don't know. But he'll be glad his sunshine came to see him." Isabela had to smile at the memory. Varric liked to gift everyone with nicknames and that's what he'd landed on Hawke's good-natured sibling.
Moving through the jostling crowds, Isabela gave a sigh. There was still quite a line to petition at the Inquisitor's throne, and they probably had to wait a few hours just to get close. Luckily, someone tugged at her sleeve suddenly, someone short. Isabela looked down and was startled to recognize Varric. He gave her a look that was somber and said far too much she knew she wasn't going to want to hear. Then he grinned noticing Bethany and the tall Grey Warden leaned down to hug him.
"Varric!"
"Sunshine! How the heck are you?" Varric crowed. The grief in his eyes lessened as his lips stretched in a wide grin. He patted Bethany on her lower back, and she leaned back to run her hand over his shoulder in a friendly caress. Isabela then wondered if Hawke's sister had ever had a crush on their silver-tongued writer and filed it away for later. It was obvious Varric had news for her and wouldn't submit her to waiting with the rest of the rabble.
And Varric was leading them away down a side hallway to an empty room, free from the soldiers and people. "I figured you two need a quiet moment….just come with me…" The dwarf cast a curious look to the two sailors trailing after Isabela, the massive brick of a man, and his thinner companion. But Isabela gave him a nod and they were fine with him. The empty room had a desk and sofa, a dwindling fire dying on the stone hearth. Isabela braced herself as Varric took her hand in his.
"Well, out with it, Varric. You look like you ate a rotten apple," Isabela said, trying to sound flippant and strong. But the dread in her old friend's eyes told her she was bound for bad news, like it or not. Bethany, it seemed, had been too far away to notice the bad tells from their friend.
"Is Hawke back? A lot of the Inquisition's soldiers seem to have returned," she said merrily. The bad look on Varric's face escalated. He took Bethany's hand in his free one, squeezing tight.
"I sent letters….to whoever can handle affairs from Weisshaupt, to the same port I sent Hawke's letter before…." Varric began to explain. Then he couldn't keep the façade and tears filled his eyes. Uncharacteristically, and Bethany's face fell as the stone in Isabela's stomach dropped all the way to her feet. Slight dizziness rocked her equilibrium and she had to force herself to breathe.
"She isn't…" Isabela began and Varric nodded. Tears leaked down his cheeks to slide off his jaw as he sniffled.
"We all went into the Fade…..and she….she fell…." He made out.
Isabela stared at the dwarf, refusing to give in to the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She stared at him as if to glean every bit of information of the unwitting trip to the other world. "Why….how…."
"But….it's the Fade! You all went there once to help that lad Feynriel…."
Varric shook his head, a light sob escaping. "We all were sent through a dream; we weren't there in our physical bodies like we'd gone at Adamant…. We were truly there, and only Hawke and Stroud never came back out."
Bethany's face fell and she began to cry. It upset Isabela more than she could say, but she couldn't fall to despair, not yet. This, this was why she'd never wanted to fall in love, why she'd left that young man so long ago. When you loved, you lost part of yourself. And Hawke had gotten herself good and killed and part of her heart was severed, as surely dead as she was. Why, why did she allow this to happen?!
"I can set money aside for your four pups…." Varric was saying next to her as her sailors shifted behind her. Mel looked to near tears and Craven put an arm around her. Before Isabela could fall to tears, the door opened, and a tall hardened woman entered. Varric greeted her by name and Isabela only knew her to be the Seeker who had arrested Varric before all this mess with the Inquisition had started.
"Well, are your friends to be staying long…." Cassandra was saying when Isabela rose, reaching for a dagger.
Varric saw her movements and rose to his feet. "Rivaini, don't!"
"You left Hawke behind!" Isabela screamed, her mind roiling to red rage. Good, the fury of rage could carry her awhile longer. Until she had to bloody accept the state of her union and her heart…. Damn her! Isabela didn't know who she silently cursed, Hawke or Cassandra, as she advanced, throwing one dagger that the Seeker managed to knock away expertly, before raising her gauntleted fist back.
The look on Cassandra's face was one of complete surprise as Isabela punched her with all her might. The door of the study cracked open behind their momentum and both women spilled out into the somewhat quiet hallway.
"You're mad!" Cassandra yelled, holding her cheek with one hand. Isabela advanced on her, but a few soldiers near the end of the hall noticed the fracas and advanced toward them.
"Seeker, are you alright?" one of the woman asked. The man at her side moved his hand to his sword hilt. Isabela barked a mad string of laughter.
"Oh, you're not gonna be needing that!"
"Cap'n!" Craven called behind her. But Isabela bulled into the soldiers, flying over with one, and then it was all a riot of punches and kicks.
The fight spilled over into the throne room, and surprised nobles and peasants tried to get out of the way of the wailing pirate. Soldiers lined up before the dais, but the dwarven woman on the throne climbed down quickly and darted around them.
"What is going on!" she yelled in a very commanding voice. The soldiers lined up at the walls moved to flank her on reflex and several snapped to salutes. Varric spilled out into the throne room behind Bethany, and he darted a glance up toward the upper ledges and balconies topping the throne room. Ordinarily, they had been observation seats for nobility, but the Inquisition filed soldiers atop there to keep an extra watch. Now, he noted bowmen lining arrows to their bows, and taking aim at his friend.
"No!" he yelled, darting a horrified glance at the Inquisitor. Cadash rushed forward at his side and the two dwarves stood before the tumbling four men and women, keeping their bodies between the arrows and the brawl. The bowmen unnotched their arrows hurriedly, lest they strike their Inquisitor. "Get off her!"
"Stand down!" Cadash commanded her soldiers. The three men and women gave her a confused look, as Isabela continued to throw punches. But the dwarf moved forward and laid a hand on Isabela's fist. The pirate finally stopped at the gentle touch and gave the Inquisitor a furious look of roiling rage. Tears were in her eyes and Varric nodded at her, so Cadash led the woman away, through the whispering throng.
Then Bethany's hand was on her shoulder and Isabela finally began to cry as they were led away. Cadash shut the door of the room she'd led them to, tutting the commotion with a click of her tongue. "What in all…"
Varric cleared his throat. "Inquisitor, this is Hawke's mate…..Captain Isabela."
And then understanding dawned on Cadash. She gave a curt nod toward the now crying pirate. "I wish the circumstances were more pleasant, Captain. I am truly sorry…."
Isabela's tears had ahold of her, but she wasn't quite done with anger yet. "She has four pups! How could you take her there?"
Cadash winced as if struck. Every day she was aware of her responsibilities to her forces, and each reminder put a weight on her soul.
"I ….I didn't know she had four children…." Cadash said carefully. Varric stood before the bed Isabela was seated on. He patted her knee.
"Believe me, the trip into the Fade, body and soul, was not something we'd planned on," Varric said gently.
"Still, she shouldn't have been there!" Isabela scrubbed her wrist across her eyes. "You didn't know Hawke, her selflessness, her want for helping others, ANYONE….. putting everyone ahead…."
"Aye, she's always been like that…" Varric said carefully. Useless tears blinded Isabela's vision and she scrubbed at them uselessly. Bethany was sniffling beside her.
"What are we going to DO?" She moaned aloud to everyone. Isabela shook her head fiercely.
"Dammit. Now I can't kill her for dying." The words were flippant, but more sobs erupted from her throat. Varric put an arm around her and leaned her head on his shoulder. Isabela finally settled in to grief and cried against his tunic collar.
"I am sorry…. It's my fault. All my fault…." Varic was saying and Isabela was struck by the grief in his eyes. He DID blame himself. He'd sent the letters; he'd asked Hawke for her help…. But Isabela couldn't find it in herself to lay more guilt at the feet of her erstwhile friend.
Cadash rocked from one foot to another in front of her, obviously nervous. "Can I get you anything? Anything at all."
The words left Isabela's lips before she could take them back. "Just Hawke…."
The depth of regret in the Inquisitor's eyes was fathomless. "I am sorry, Captain…."
Craven pressed an arm to the doorjamb and quietly exited with Mel in tow. The woman was overly concerned, and she had every reason to be. He was more concerned himself. How WERE they going to go forward? Their captain had lost her mate. She was going to be lost for who knows how long.
"What am I gonna tell the pups?! Maker's ass, I never thought…." Isabela was saying. Craven cringed.
"Those poor pups," he murmured. Mel sighed.
"We'll be there for them. This is going to affect those lads and lasses for years to come. Poor things…"
"And the Cap'n. We have to watch for her…and Merrrill. She used to do blood magic. She may go back after this…."
Mel sighed. In one fell swoop, the family she worked for was breaking apart at the seams, one well-placed stitch tugged abruptly out of the family unit weave.
"We'll keep an eye out. As long as they need us." Mel turned to press her face into Craven's chest. His large hand rested on the back of her head.
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Varric led the two women to his chambers, taking them up high on the somewhat quiet parapets. In his chambers, a maid was straightening his things; she brightened at the sight of him. Varric gave her a curt shake of his head and the girl beat feet. Varric led Isabela to his wide bed and pulled the covers back.
"In, Rivaini. You need to rest."
Isabela shook her head. In one hand was a bottle of brandy and she kept taking long pulls from the lip of the glass neck, the liquid cascading down her throat. "Not until I've….what am I gonna tell Merrill…."
Varric was dumb struck to the new press of guilt. He gave a ragged sigh. "Poor Daisy…."
Bethany looked confused. "Merrill lives with you?"
Isabela gave a short bark of laughter. "She's Hawke's second mate. She got us both and the marks held…." Then angry sniffles clogged her throat. Hawke had gone and died and now Kitten was going to be heartbroken too. WHY did Hawke have to go?! "Oh, Kitten, I'm sorry…."
Varric patted her arm and went to the door to signal another servant. He ordered what sounded like an odd platter of food and pastries, complete with a few choices of brandy and wine. Isabela took another long pull of the bottle in her hand, tears drying on her cheeks. Well it wasn't like she couldn't use the extra drink….
Bethany beside her was lamenting on what they were going to do. In the wake of such earth-shattering personal grief, Isabela didn't have a clue. She merely scrubbed her eyes with her wrist and passed the bottle to Hawke's sister. Bethany took a brave sip, giving a small cough as she did so.
A servant arrived with a large platter and Varric set up the makeshift dinner on his small table. Bethany forced a few bites, but Varric almost had to hold Isabela down and hand feed her. She forced down a bite of stew, and then some of a chopped apple to satisfy him. Her belly roiled with how empty it was, with a little too much brandy. And in went more drink.
Bethany only stared at the food, a lost look on her face until Varric poured her some wine. He poured himself a glass and sighed. "Well, we may as well drink more…."
"A Grey Warden doesn't need any temptations…." Bethany began but Varric groaned.
"Please, for me, Sunshine," he pleaded. Bethany sipped her wine and Varric sighed. Isabela sighed herself as she chugged on the brandy again.
"Don't tell me you both are gonna bundle into the bed with me," Isabela gave a short laugh. Varric held up one hand, palm up.
"I'll be sleeping on the floor, thanks. Bethany, if you need the bed, too….."
Bethany shrugged, looking lost. "I guess…"
Isabela was oddly touched, somewhere, that Varric would look after them the first night. 'Oh, Hawke….you stupid bloody fool!' she thought. Isabela squeezed her eyes closed and drew hard on the brandy bottle. Funny, her mark still felt normal. She must be in shock.
"Not too much, Rivaini!" Varric said. Isabela gave him a dull look.
"I'll have as much as I need." In a world without Hawke, Isabela needed any grasp at comfort.
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Merrill sat up, pulling the sheets to her chest. She could hear the faint rasping of the ocean waves crashing on the shore nearby, and a sailor or two quietly talking elsewhere. But everyone had quieted down, and the community bonfire had gone down a few hours earlier. She missed Hawke. She missed Isabela too. Missed was an understatement. Her heart, nay, her very bones ached with her missing erstwhile mates.
As always when she couldn't sleep, Merrill padded as quietly as she could to check on the pups. The twins always sprawled across their thin beds, taking up as much room as possible. Merrill's heart was in her eyes as she went over each trace of Hawke's looks reflected in her sons. Their hair was getting too long; tomorrow she'd suggest a trim.
The youngest pups were a different manner. Oft times, Magpie would be awake, watching her toddler sister across the room as if on guard. It hurt Merrill's heart to see the forlorn looks on the child she'd carried herself. Magpie was awake now, wide green eyes keeping silent vigil over her sister. Merrill quietly pushed in and smiled at her mage daughter and then cast a glance in the crib. Sparrow was still asleep, one pudgy fist stuffed into her mouth. She straightened her blankets and sat on the edge of Magpie's small bed.
Magpie scrambled across the blankets and laid her head in her lap. Merrill sighed, a moment of happiness as love for her child panged her heart. Hawke's child…. She ran her fingers through Maggie's somewhat wavy black hair, tangled from sleep. A small giggle, and the child was silent again. She was ever so silent, but that was just her way.
"Can't sleep?" Merrill murmured. A nod against her thigh. "I couldn't either….your mama gone and all…."
Even Merrill couldn't fully understand the new bond she had with Isabela, other mate of her mate. But perhaps another mark could hold to connect them more to each other and to Hawke…. It could only make so much sense. Both her connections were gone from the island and she couldn't help feeling empty. Even with a houseful of children to care for….
"Pa…" Magpie said suddenly, and Merrill strained for more words. She stroked Magpie's hair encouragingly. "Will she come home?"
"I think so. I hope so," Merrill said fervently. With all her heart she wished it. "Just like your mama will be home soon…."
Magpie stretched trustingly in her lap and Merrill stared out the window at the sliver of a moon outside. Maybe, just maybe…. What she wished would be so.
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The days stretched by and Merrill was cooking a simple stew on the cast iron stove in the captain's kitchen when Falcon surprised her. The tall boy had silently slunk into the kitchen and waited for her to notice him. She almost jumped when she did, he'd been so quiet.
"Fal!" she gasped then gave a small smile. "Did you want to help me?"
"Yeah." Falcon reached for a spoon and leaned closer. "I also wanted to ask you something…."
"Like what?"
"Like…why you mated with Papa when she'd leave us like that." The words came out in an angry rush and Merrill gasped. She felt punched in the chest and had to pause to catch her breath. Slowly, she ran her fingers through the boy's hair. Falcon put up with her affections even in his simmering anger. There, that flash of anger in those green eyes; she'd seen it in Hawke's gaze when she'd been upset. When Isabela had first fled Kirkwall, and her….
"I couldn't stay away," Merrill admitted. "Your papa, she and I…. we were good with each other at the start. And your papa needed happiness. And I wanted to make her happy…."
It was a very watered-down version of the rage Hawke had felt at Isabela's departure. Her loneliness, her strive to survive each week that separated her from the pirate. Merrill knew, as in love with Hawke as she was, she'd have to do something about it, and lo, Isabela had seemed to give her the chance… their first time together, Merrill gasping beneath Hawke, trying to take as much of her thick member as she could. How patient Hawke had been, then how she'd strove for orgasm, grunting and sweating above her, trying not to thrust too hard to force herself completely in a smaller channel….
Falcon bit his lip. His bangs hung into his troubled eyes and he bowed his head. "But she didn't make you happy…not now."
Merrill sighed. She cupped the boy's chin and lifted his head to look her in the eye. "No, I'm not happy with her choosing to leave without talking to any of us. But I still love her. I hope you still love her too."
Falcon's shoulders slumped. "I….I do but…."
"I know, son." Merrill slung an arm around his neck and Falcon leaned into her embrace. "It's okay to be mad. But when she comes home, please don't take it all out on Papa. Promise?"
Falcon sighed raggedly. "Okay, Mamae."
Merrill tried to feel content with the boy's answer, but a nagging feeling was tugging at her heart. It had been that way since she'd sat up watching the sun rise with Sparrow on her shoulder. No, she had to be strong. Isabela needed her to hold it together, and Hawke would be pleased when she got back.
She would be back. Wouldn't she? Even with the somewhat hazy heat of the kitchen, Merrill shivered.
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Isabela was dreaming a pleasant dream. In it, she and Hawke were tangled in each other, her legs wrapped around her lean hips, their mouths meeting in hot kisses as they thrust against each other. Isabela was naked but Hawke still had her trousers on, damn her, but they couldn't stop the full-on friction of moving against each other to take them off. The small bits of frustration with the laughing teases they gave each other made Isabela smile in her dream.
A jolt and the masthead Isabela had been leaning against rumbled as the ship scraped something. Isabela's eyes fell open and she gave a long yawn as she covered her eyes from the blasted sun. Her sailors hopped away nearby, asking about the reef as Craven steered from the wheel platform.
"Stop tearing up my ship," Isabela called, then reached for the bottle at her side. Someone had wisely corked it for her, and she yanked it free to take a sip of brandy.
"Aye, Cap'n! I think it was just a love tap. No harm done," Craven called. A few sailors were tying off to rappel down the side of the prow to check what they could anyway. Isabela blinked tiredly at him and thunked her head against the masthead, looking straight up. The sails flapped overhead languidly in the breeze. Then the crushing reality settled in and she hugged her knees to her chest.
"Hawke, you ruddy fool….." Isabela could almost damn herself for greeting her in the Hanged Man that first night. But she just looked so handsome, and after her flirtatious greeting, had agreed to help her. 'No harm done,' she'd thought so long ago. And she lingered on Hawke's attractive smile.
But she'd ensnared her from that first joined look.
"Fuck my life," Isabela muttered, falling to curses. The daunting task of giving the news of Hawke's demise to her family soured her mood and mind. It had to be done. It didn't mean she had to enjoy it.
End for now
End notes: Like it or not, drop a review. Sorry for the length of time between chapters. Work was crazy but finally settling after the holidays. Peace.
Pen 2/29/2020