Catching the Wind Chapter 48: Welcome Home?, a dragon age fanfic

Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2/3." Nothing.

Author's notes: Drama, drama drama. More of that.

"Catching the Wind"

Chapter forty-eight "Welcome home?"

Hawke stumbled to get back to her one foot, leaning on the crutch. Angela surged forward, nudging at her side. She leaned on the mabari's thick neck, but her mate got to her and fast.

"Hawke!" Merrill gasped beside her and rushed to help her. Her hands hovered and ran over Hawke's side lovingly. And her arm was around her waist, helping her up. Hawke leaned trustingly into her, eyes closing briefly at the touch. Merrill looked so happy touching her, Isabela couldn't begrudge her that. But she still waited, unmoved.

Magpie cried out aloud and tugged at Hawke's elbow. The baby stood to the side, eyeing the apparent stranger with wide eyes. Hawke noted Falcon hanging back, anger in his green eyes. Isabela didn't know whether to be glad at his siding with her or upset for his sire's sake. Then she remembered her anger at Hawke and turned back on her.

Lark, however, rushed to Hawke's other side, placing the crutch in her hand and helping her up. Supported by her mate and one of her sons, Hawke looked alittle better, but her eyes were hurt flashing up to Isabela.

"I know you're mad at me and believe me I should have told you…."

"Should have told me you were leaving….YEAH, you should have!" Isabela thundered. Her crew scattered over the beach, taking off discreetly to their homes or for the trees. Isabela's feelings regarding her mate were long overdue and they did NOT want to be around for it. Isabela didn't blame them. "We didn't know where you were! If you were alive or…" she swallowed hard.

Hawke leaned on Merrill's shoulder, other hand running over Lark's back. "Larkie," she said affectionately, and her son leaned into her touch, giving a one-armed hug. She knew he had missed his sire too much and couldn't begrudge him.

Isabela bent to pick up Sparrow who could only stand and stare at the apparent stranger. "Sparrow doesn't even know who you are! Three years….you've been gone from your children three years….."

Hawke winced as if struck physically. "I….I'm sorry….I was trapped in the Fade…."

"Papa!...You were hurt?" Magpie clutched at the hem of her tunic in front of her, staring at the missing area where her right leg used to be.

Hawke bent with Merrill's help and took Magpie into her arms. She sighed as her daughter wrapped her arms around her neck and squeezed. "Oh, Mags….I missed you too…." She winced as her stump was jostled against the sand and hissed in pain.

Lark and Merrill knelt beside her, exclaiming. "I'll help you, Papa," Lark declared. Hawke squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you, son. I'll need your help," she agreed. The look of pride on her son's face hurt Isabela's heart. The injury itself softened her anger toward her mate and she wished that weren't so. She put Sparrow on one hip and stalked toward the captain's house. Falcon wasn't far behind his mama. Angela gave his mistress a whine and Hawke nodded.

"Go after him, boy." Angela took off across the beach after Falcon and the boy set a hand on top of his head.

Hawke stared after Isabela however, lip quivering. Magpie, Lark and Merrill all embraced her, and Hawke let the rest of her family hold her. She relaxed into their arms and questions, tears filling her eyes.

"It'll be okay, Hawke. She'll forgive you," Merrill said sweetly. When Hawke turned toward her, Merrill's hand slid into the shorter hairs at the base of her neck and drew her in. They kissed deeply and Hawke stumbled, almost tripping. Lark steadied her and Magpie gave a sniff beside them. But Merrill was smiling when they parted, cheeks flushed, a happy glint in her eyes. Just for her. Hawke sighed and leaned her brow to hers.

"I missed you so much," Hawke breathed. Merrill pressed a few kisses to her face tenderly.

"I did too," she said softly.

"What happened to you, Papa?" Lark asked. Hawke leaned on his shoulder, giving a tired smile.

"So many battles….so many Venatori and then the Fade…. But I'm home now."

Magpie tapped her child-sized staff in front of them, leading the way and Merrill chirped beside her. But Hawke's heart was ill at ease over the reunion with her other mate. Her eye was already beginning to swell from her loving touch as it were. Hawke sighed and went into the captain's house.

7
7

Inside the house, Merrill went to take Sparrow from Isabela, and Hawke noted them sharing a look that conveyed a message between them without words. THEY had been getting closer.

Then Merrill was back at her side, offering the child over. Sparrow was in her late toddler stage, legs still pudgy, and they kicked back and forth as Hawke tried to take her on her lap from her place on the couch. She could feel Isabela's eyes on her, and she flushed. Then Sparrow pushed against her shoulders, wailing loudly. Magpie darted close, concerned, and her sister calmed with her presence. But she still looked at Hawke with unfamiliar eyes filled with fear and Hawke's heart crashed.

"Sparrow, this is Papa! Remember Papa?" Lark said beside her. Sparrow stood on the couch and crashed into her brother's arms. She buried her face against his chest, hiding.

"I'm so sorry, Hawke…" Merrill said softly. Hawke tried to smile but it was an effort.

"That's alright….she was so small when…" Hawke looked around for her last child, but Falcon was sidling to the kitchen in the back. She sighed to herself. She hoped to have a talk with her pup and understand him. She HAD missed him. But his every action indicated the feeling wasn't reciprocated, or how Hawke could stand it. She swallowed. Then Magpie carefully climbed into her lap and she cradled the bigger child with one arm.

Merrill went on beside her, citing their mage child's lessons. Magpie beamed, sitting proudly on her sire's lap. Hawke moved a lock of hair behind her daughter's pointed ear and leaned to kiss her cheeks. Magpie hugged her neck tightly.

"Don't cry, Papa," she urged. Hawke's tears still came slowly. Lark looked uncomfortable, but he wasn't moving. He clutched Hawke's left hand in his. So tall, three years was it? Even as a fourteen-year-old, he was strong.

"Papa, it'll be okay. You're back," he said. Hawke nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Thank you, son." She paused and dreaded to ask. "Did….did your mama speak ill of my absence?"

Lark hung his head. "Not often….she kept most thoughts to herself."

Hawke nodded, sighing. That was Isabela's way, cut and run and avoid. But she'd kept her tethered to her through mate bite and children. Of course Isabela would be pissed and hold onto that. She didn't blame her. She'd been dishonest in leaving without a single word.

Hawke made to get up and winced when her stump was jarred as she tried to stand. Lark helped adjust her. "Do you need anything? Some food?" Merrill pressed. Hawke smiled. Always, she tried to serve her. Hawke cupped her cheek with one hand.

"Just the washroom. I'll be right back. I promise."

Merrill's eyes darted at that and Hawke knew she'd gotten to the crux of her furthering anxiety. Lark helped support her right side as she moved toward the washroom and Hawke smiled at him. He was almost as tall as her.

"Just give me a moment, son. Thank you."

Hawke opened the door of the washroom and set her crutch out. She started, noticing Sparrow sitting on her backside beside the door, the twin's old wood carved soldiers in her pudgy hands. They'd been repainted in Orlesian colors recently. Sparrow's wide eyes took her in, and she clutched the wall to bring herself to her feet. Hawke waited, patiently. Yes, she'd fought to get out of her arms, but apparently her youngest was over her shyness and was in the fascination stage.

Hawke wished Sparrow could remember her, all the nights she'd rocked her to sleep, and only Hawke alone could do it. But she'd take fascination over fear at this point. She toddled forward and ran her fingers over the pinned-up clump of trousers over what ended at her right knee. Hawke winced as a lance of pain surged through her as the baby unknowingly brushed against her bandage, but she bit her lip and waited. The toddler looked up at her, green eyes inquisitive.

"Owie?" she asked, patting the air beneath her knee. Hawke nodded.

"Yes. Owie."

"That's Papa," Magpie urged beside her sister. Sparrow gave a grin, showing off a few teeth.

"Pa," she agreed. Hawke had a feeling she didn't know what it meant but she'd take it. Her heart melted as the toddler walked beside her, keeping slow pace. Her crutch was only doing so much. In the kitchen, Hawke paused, taking in her mates. Falcon hovered near the back door. He glared at his papa under his black bangs. Hawke tried a gentle smile. Her pup was mad at her, yes, but if she was patient…

"Fal. I missed you, lad."

Falcon's eyes shimmered with what could only be tears, but he gave a curt nod. "Someone had to watch everyone." His tone indicated it'd been him and his brother. Hawke swallowed.

"Well….you both did a great job. Thank you…"

Falcon stalked past, broad shoulders hunched. Hawke wanted to put a hand on him and stop him, embrace him….but her right hand was on her crutch, holding her upright and she couldn't juggle it to reach him in time. She caught Isabela eyeing her injury out of the corner of her eye. She stood ramrod at the oven. Merrill poured a glass of wine and brought it to Hawke. Hawke was led to the small kitchen table and accepted it.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she offered to Isabela. Isabela regarded her almost thoughtfully. She was wearing her gold choker again, for how long, Hawke didn't know. She couldn't see her mating mark. Her heart saddened.

"I'm not calling you a liar. Just don't lie to me," Isabela said. Merrill stirred something in a pot on the oven and looked between both women. She set the ladle down and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Bela, Hawke's back. She missed you too. Don't you want to hug her?" Merrill's sweet voice rang out, making Hawke blush, and Isabela stiffen. She sighed.

"No. I don't. You left us high and dry, Hawke. Worse, you only left a letter, a blasted stupid letter to explain. You could have talked to us."

Hawke set her wine glass down, throat dry suddenly. She nodded, agreeing. "I should have…..I am so sorry, Bela."

Isabela put her hands on her hips, watching Sparrow settle to play on the kitchen floor. She kept an eye on her, and so did Hawke.

"Sorry wasn't here for these pups. Or Kitten…"

Hawke swallowed. She wondered if she would be sleeping on the beach when Merrill talked lowly to Isabela. The pirate growled at her but gave Hawke an even look.

"You don't have to sleep outside. Stay on the couch. Do whatever."

"I'm staying near you. I'm staying with the pups," Hawke said smoothly. She laced her words with chi pulses of strength and love. Isabela shivered but didn't move toward her.

"Yes. Be there for them," she snapped. Hawke sighed. She gently tried again.

"Falcon….. will he talk to me?"

"That's up to him," Isabela went on. "You can't blame the lad for being mad."

And Hawke truly couldn't. Ever since the pups were young, ever since they'd been introduced to her in Kirkwall, she'd taken them in hand, under her family wing so to speak, and they'd known a stable household ever since. But her leaving had shattered that sense of stability. Of course, a young pup advancing into the awkward feelings of adolescence would fall to anger at having an unknown thrust upon them.

"I'm sorry… " Hawke said again. Sparrow crawled toward her and used her good leg to pull herself to her feet.

Isabela sighed angrily and raggedly. "Just saying it doesn't magically fix everything."

Hawke's head hung low. "I know….." She offered Sparrow a hand under the table. Sparrow played with her long fingers, brows knit in concentration.

Merrill's hand ran over Isabela's back. She sent soothing feelings toward the pirate, then toward Hawke. Hawke watched them and wondered when all three of them could join together, not just in the physical sense, but the emotional link they'd once shared easily. She hoped she still had a good future.

Isabela stalked past. "Dinner's almost ready. Can you check the biscuits, Kitten?"

Merrill agreed and the pirate pushed back out to the living room away from her. Hawke sighed.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Falcon and Isabela ignored Hawke's efforts, but the rest of the pups and Merrill eased back into their love for her. Hawke was glad to see Magpie's smiles, Sparrow's stares, and answer Lark's questions about her battles. Falcon's twin had grown up leaner, but just as tall. Falcon certainly had inherited her broad shoulders.

"And how's your training? Did you and your brother still drill?" Hawke went on. Lark nodded.

"Mama helps with my dagger strikes. Craven and the sailors sparred with Fal," he reported. Falcon gave his brother a look across the table. Hawke nodded to herself.

"I'll have to thank them for keeping an eye out…."

The table was silent at that, everyone sifting through their feelings. Hawke took a bite of cabbage, the vegetable going down dry.

Magpie leaned over from her seat and patted her sire's hand. Hawke smiled at her and laced their fingers together. Sparrow stared from her high chair, stew smeared across her lower lip. Isabela leaned to wipe her mouth with a napkin. "Mamae showed me….some healing."

Merrill nodded, sipping from a cup of water. Isabela drank a glass of brandy, eyebrow raised. "We'll need to look at your wound. See if those bandages need changing."

Hawke nodded, looking morose. She had only gotten a look or two at what was beneath, but the village women had done a good job sewing up the jagged and torn flesh. It did hurt often, as well as her missing limb. She could swear she could feel it throbbing even now.

Hawke tried to get up to help Isabela clear the table, but Falcon was faster. Lark took his sister's plates up and Merrill helped Hawke lean on her to get to the sofa. She got a bowl of water, stirred in healing herbs, and gestured at Hawke's belt.

"Off," she suggested and a pang of want surged between Hawke's legs. She unbuckled her belt and eased her trousers down her hips. Her smallclothes kept her covered, but her bare skin open to Merrill's hands put longing through her. Merrill carefully tugged her trousers down her thighs and off, carefully tugging one edge of the bandage open and unraveling slowly. Hawke clutched the couch, sighing deeply.

"Ow," she muttered. Merrill got to the crux of the matter, and sighed, cleaning off the edge of the wound with a soft warm rag.

"Stitches look good…Maybe a few more days for those," she muttered. Hawke looked in pain, so she bent and kissed the top of her bare thigh affectionately. Hawke gave her a loving smile. Her fingers tangled in Merrill's hair.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Merrill turned her head and kissed Hawke's wrist. "Let me clean it up…" She carefully washed the edge of the stitches, then reached for a roll of bandages. Hawke sighed as she rewrapped her knee. Merrill leaned up between her spread thighs and hugged her mate softly. Hawke sighed and buried her face in her shoulder.

"I wish I could sleep near you…." Hawke murmured. Merrill shivered. She kissed her mate on the lips shortly.

"I'll talk to Bela. She just needs some time…." She murmured. Hawke nodded, stupid hope in her eyes.

"I can always rely on you, Kitten. And I do miss YOU too…."

Merrill kissed her again and got up. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll get you some blankets, my love."

Isabela tossed her a quilt and Merrill barely caught it. She gave her a soft exasperated look, but Isabela moved to put Sparrow to bed. But the toddler was fighting her, trying to get back to the living room. Magpie took her hand and the two girls climbed on the sofa, cuddling on Hawke's lap. Hawke welcomed them, murmuring to them and Magpie giggled. Isabela watched from the hallway, gaze unreadable. Hawke gave her a soft look.

"Goodnight, Bela…." She said. Isabela gave a curt nod.

"Goodnight, girls." She moved to the captain's bedroom, Merrill following.

"Papa, your leg okay?" Magpie asked softly. Hawke nodded, kissing the side of her head.

"All better. Thanks to your Mamae."

"Owie!" Sparrow piped up. Hawke ruffled her dark hair.

"It sure is," she agreed. After a few minutes, Hawke could hear raised voices from the twin's bedroom. Then Lark stalked out, clad in a sleeveless tunic and loose trousers. He was carrying his pillow and a blanket. He gave Hawke a shy grin and spread his blanket beside the sofa.

"I'm here if you need, Papa," he said. Hawke lowered her hand and her son took it from the floor.

"Thank you, Larkie. Do you all want a bedtime story?"

"Yeah," Lark grinned. Magpie put her head on Hawke's breast, eyes wide. Sparrow was already yawning, face pressed to her sire's stomach. Couldn't talk about the Fade. That was moments best reserved for hoping to forget. Hawke kissed Magpie's hair and talked about one excursion with Varric. The twins had known them when they were younger, and she could feel Lark's interest from the floor. He helped answer a few questions about the dwarf when Magpie finally spoke up to ask.

Hawke sighed as sleep began to tug at the corners of her consciousness. It wasn't the grand reunion she had been hoping for, but it had gone better than the worse case scenario. At least half of her family were happy she was back.

"Isabela…" Merrill said. Isabela shivered as she took off her choker and earrings. She shook her hair out after unfastening her bandana and turned to grab up the elf and toss her on the bed. Not as bodily as Hawke might have, damn her, but still with quite abit of enthusiasm.

"Please, don't, Kitten. I just…." She leaned down to kiss Merrill and the elf twined her arms around her neck.

"Hmm…. I know," Merrill whispered sweetly. She stroked Isabela's long dark hair. She pulled the pirate on top of her and rubbed her hands down her back, over the thin fabric of her shift. Isabela shivered and lay against the elf, eyes blinking with exhaustion.

"I just want…" she murmured. She didn't even have to say anything further. Merrill hummed against her, hands moving up and down her back.

"I know, Bela…."

After a few soft songs sung in elvish, Merrill felt when Isabela began to fall asleep. She gently rolled her to the side and stroked her dark hair out of her face.

"Everything will be okay. One day…." Merrill murmured. Isabela began to snore.

Lark opened his eyes. He could hear his sister's even breathing and for a moment, couldn't make out any other shapes in the dark. He panicked until he noticed his papa's arm half hanging off the couch. He reached to touch her hand, taking her fingers in his, sighing. She was here. Still here. There was a rustling at the end of the hall and Lark sat up, blinking. Someone, could have been Falcon, or Mama, or Mamae, shifted and moved away. He hoped they'd forgive Papa soon.

He'd woken earlier having thought he heard a sob out loud. And it had come from his Papa. Lark squeezed her hand. He'd be there for Papa either way.

Merrill moved through the living room, after getting ready with Isabela. Her erstwhile second mate had been kissing her throat, teasing her where she'd mark her when she got the chance. Merrill didn't take it to heart; after she resolved her anger with Hawke, she knew they could all move forward together. She'd done her best to soothe Isabela's riled emotions.

Passing the couch, Merrill's eyes met Hawke's as she lay on her back. The baby was on her waist and Magpie had her head on her chest. Hawke's left hand was sifting through Magpie's curls, her other hand was held by Lark who lay half asleep on the floor. Merrill's heart surged, feeling too large for her chest.

"Good morning, darling," Merrill whispered. Hawke's eyes softened and she smiled up at her.

"Good morning, my love," she said. Lark twitched and woke, sitting up, yawning. Magpie's eyes opened and as she sat up, carefully moving to Hawke's side to stay away from her stump.

"Papa sleep okay?" she asked. Hawke cupped her cheek, thumb moving over her dark skin.

"Yes, my princess."

Sparrow woke, giving a wail, and then looked around. She gave a sudden shy grin to Hawke and climbed off the sofa, onto Lark. The boy sat up, giving a woof of surprise, and patted her back.

"Do you have to pee, Sparrow?" the teenager asked, sitting up as she sat in his lap. The four-year-old grinned, showing her small teeth.

"Bafroom," she agreed. Lark stood up and took her hand. He gave a look to Hawke who was laying on her back, rubbing Magpie's back. He hadn't seen his little sister so happy in quite awhile.

"Do you need any help, Papa?"

Merrill glided into the room and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm here, off with you, laddie."

Lark gave her a smile and took Sparrow to the washroom. Magpie got up at Merrill's insistence, and gave her mamae a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll get Mama," she said quietly and took off, nightgown fluttering.

Hawke was pushing to sit up when Merrill carefully draped across her lap. Other thoughts sprang to mind, and Hawke's arm went around her slender waist. Merrill ran her fingers through Hawke's hair and held her head against her breast. Hawke sighed, inhaling Merrill's scent, very relaxed and somewhat happy. Hawke grunted as warmth spread through her and she shifted abruptly.

Merrill felt it move against her thigh. She kissed the top of Hawke's head, offering comfort through her chi. Hawke sighed against her, but her mouth moved against the front of her tunic. Warmth throbbed between the elf's legs. Should she move against it? She wanted to, oh, she wanted to, and Hawke seemed to want and need her, and oh she missed her….But Isabela was in the next room. Her second mate, at least very soon.

As Merrill tried to decide, Isabela moved into the living room. She noticed the twining figures on the couch and stared. Hawke blushed unhappily and Merrill slid off her lap. Isabela's eyes were soft for Merrill but glared right through Hawke.

"Don't stop on my account," she retorted. Merrill glided toward her. The arm Isabela linked through hers made her feel slightly better, but their mate was hurting. The forlorn look Hawke gave her hurt.

"Don't you think you should ease up on her?" Merrill whispered to her in the kitchen. Isabela sighed.

"Not you too, Kitten. Please, don't start."

Hawke sighed, flopping on her back on the sofa. Would she ever be forgiven?

End for now

End notes: Leave a review if liked or not. I can take the heat.

Pen 4/11/2020