Hello! My semester and work just started so I will be incredibly busy, so this chapter is nice and long to make up for my future slower pace.
Keep reading to get through it, because the end of this chapter finally gives us some heat [NSFW warning] enjoy !
Thank you for reading!
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A week had passed since the Qunari uprising; just enough time for the bodies and blood to be cleaned from the streets, and reconstruction of the city to begin.
Lyra slid down against a brick wall, sitting on the ground on a main street leading to Lowtown, exhausted from the day of work and taking a moment to catch her breath. The people of Kirkwall were still rebuilding the few buildings and stands that had collapsed in the attack, and Hawke and his friends had spent the last week offering help wherever they could.
The resiliency of these people, Lyra thought to herself while she pulled out an apple and watched the people moving about around her. It brings me back to how the people of Ferelden managed after the Blight. Forging ahead, rebuilding the village, strengthening the community.
Merrill approached her from where she had been helping a family repair a broken door frame, her slender arms covered in dirt and her cropped hair a mess. She slumped down next to Lyra, needing the breather as well, and Lyra wordlessly procured another apple for her, the two happy to silently share their lunch in the shade from the midday sun.
I haven't walked around out in daylight like this, without my armor and hood, she thought to herself, feeling Merrill lean over and rest her head against her shoulder. The past week was a blur, she hadn't had time to worry about keeping her hood up. She wore her simple tunic and trousers with her boots, her hair pulled back into her braid for work but her identifying tattoos and pointed ears out for anyone to see. No one would recognize me, anyway. It's been years since the Blight, and the people here in my new home community have their own worries.
The two were resting when they heard some shouts from the street over, and they quickly stood and headed to where the noise was, the danger that comes with construction a common thing to look out for in these times. They rounded the corner and saw a large supply wagon in the center of the street with a dozen or so people around it in panic. The screams of a man sounded beneath, and Lyra quickly saw the broken axel and missing wheel that had caused it to fall on the man repairing it.
"Out of the way!" Hawke's voice boomed over the panic, the heads of all the people turning to see the tall, dirty, well-worn raven-haired human jog over to the commotion. The people parted to make room for him as he rushed to the fallen man being crushed by the wagon. Lyra and Merrill hurried forward as well as Hawke gripped the bottom of the wagon with both hands and braced himself, muscles in his thighs and arms tensing in preparation. He grunted in effort as he strained to lift the heavy wood and metal wagon, and Lyra stopped Merrill before they got too close, thinking quickly.
"Lethallan," she whispered to her, meeting her eyes meaningfully before she knelt down to the cobblestone. Merrill caught on quick as she did the same, and together they focused their mana in the way they had been practicing together, into the natural forces and energies around them. As one they pushed a force into the ground, focusing it and aiming it upwards to come out from the bottom of the wagon, adding an upwards force to aid Hawke's lifting.
Together the three raised the wagon long enough for a few onlookers to drag the injured man out from underneath, and they released the wagon once he was clear, the heavy weight landing on the ground with a loud bang.
"Hah," Hawke let out a breath as he wiped his brow, returning the smile of the man as the people around them cheered, "Champion of Kirkwall! Champion of Kirkwall!"
Hawke waved away the praise and immediately went to Lyra and Merrill, his blues flashing them bright from the adrenaline and from his energy. He raised his arms out to hug them with a grin and leaned in to whisper, "Thanks you both, you're getting better at that!"
Merrill giggled as the three walked away from the crowd together, elbowing Hawke with a soft smirk. "Oh no rush to leave just yet, go and enjoy the praise, Champion!"
"Stop," Hawke groaned lightly at Merrill's tease, looking down and giving Lyra a happy smile. "I'm lucky you both were there; your force magic, is so impressive." He spoke in a whisper only they could hear. The use of public magic was completely out of the question, now. Since the passing of the Viscount, Knight-Commander Meredith had stepped in, enforcing the strictest rules for mages with her army of Templars patrolling the streets.
"And silent, too," Lyra nodded up to him, returning his smile tiredly, but really happy to be walking with him, safe and sound, unhurt. Unhurt, after all that happened. All of us alive and well… I'm so thankful.
Hawke seemed to sense the depth of feeling she was in, for he slung his arm around her shoulders, the feeling so familiar and comforting. Aedan. She let herself turn her face into his shirt, nuzzling him briefly, uncaring how dirty they both were from the day of work.
Merrill piped up, drawing both their attentions. "I need to run back to the alienage to check on the neighbors; I'll see you both later!" She headed off, the three waving.
"Oh, now there's an old face," Hawke said with a curious tone, making Lyra look up as they ascended some stairs. Her eyes widened, and then squinted, disbelieving. Cullen?
"Champion of Kirkwall," the blond Templar greeted Hawke, and Hawke waved away the title, giving him a cautious smile. Cullen smiled down at Lyra, curious of Hawke's companion, and then stopped, stared, and he blinked, shocked. "Wait, you-? I've seen, no way…"
Lyra swallowed, memories flashing through her of when she first met this Ferelden Templar. On his knees, thinking she was another illusion, set to tempt him into blood magic. Begging her to kill him. Begging her to kill all the mages. Suffering, Tortured, Desperate, Terrified. Broken.
"Cullen," she said softly, walking a little closer to him so they could keep their conversation lowered. He was shaking his head, looking between Hawke and her in disbelief.
"Grey Warden… Hero, of Ferelden…" he made a fist and held it to his chest as a sign of respect, keeping his voice lowered like hers. "Of all places… have you been here, in Kirkwall, all this time?"
"I have," she nodded, giving him a small smile, noticing the small differences in him. Darker bags under his eyes, dented armor, ruffled hair. He looks… ever so cautious, and ever so tired. And just as haunted, as before. "It is good to see you are doing alright."
"Likewise," he chuckled softly, still surprised. "I can't believe it. They put out a missing persons' report for you a while ago," he glanced to Hawke and noted their familiarity, "but it seems like you don't need finding."
"It's just political, the missing person's report," Lyra explained, starting to feel the itch to cover her face again, clearing her throat and reverting back to the public official she once was. "The Ferelden government knows and wants my absence; managed it, almost. Due to noble relations, I have been tasked with lying low, in the interests of Ferelden's rule."
"Wait, they… kicked you out?" he frowned. "Though I know, you, and King Alistair… ah, forgive me." he looked down, shaking his head. "It's not my place." he glanced up to Hawke, curious. "Though now that I think about it I'm not surprised to find you here, in the rebuilding after a crisis. As I'm not surprised to find you here, Hawke."
"Ah, what can I say," Hawke said lightly, glancing between them. "I forgot you came from Ferelden too, Cullen. How are you holding up, after all of it?"
"Well," Cullen started, looking around the street and letting some of the exhaustion show on his face. "A lot has happened in the last week. Knight Commander Meredith has us all on strict schedules for patrolling; we don't get a lot of rest. But I do think it's for good reason. Kirkwall needs stability and structure after the Qunari crisis, whether the mages like it or not. Mages can't be trusted to account for their own danger in a normal setting; now, after the Qunari, we need to be extra watchful."
"You don't think her measures are somewhat extreme?" Hawke asked honestly. Cullen sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"People say she's gone mad with power; I've seen mad," he paused, his eyes briefly meeting Lyra's. In that one second of connection, she saw an ocean of shame, regret, and fear, before he looked away, gesturing to her. "We've seen madness, in Uldred, in the Ferelden Circle. The things there, Hawke… it's better to be safe, than dead. Meredith's not there yet. But, I can see where the rumors come from."
"It's vague, is all," Hawke said thoughtfully, his voice soft. "The Order's duties. What they stand for."
Cullen sighed again, nodding regretfully. "I know what I stand for, what the Order stands for. I knew it after that night in the Circle. But I'll admit, I often wonder whether I am serving the Templars, or the Knight Commander. They no longer always feel one and the same."
Hawke nodded, reaching out a hand to lay on his shoulder. "You sound like you need a stiff drink, friend."
"I wish," Cullen chuckled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "New rules for us, we shouldn't willingly give loss to our faculties. We have to stay vigilant. Can't be vulnerable..." he glanced to Lyra again. "...to temptation."
He smiled politely with averted eyes before making his leave, leaving Hawke and Lyra staring after him.
"Well damn," Hawke remarked, shaking his head sadly. "Meredith's going to have an unhappy group of campers if she's not letting any of them drink."
Lyra didn't say anything, lost in thought as she watched the haunted man walk away, her brows together in worry.
"Hey," Hawke brought her back to the present with a hand on her back, and she blinked up at him.
"Sorry, it was, just strange to see him again," she shook her head.
"The Ferelden Circle…" he wondered, staring off as well. "I can't imagine, what you both went through."
Lyra looked up at him, wrapping an arm under his in a hug. "What I went through, can't compare to the horrors he faced."
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What a long day, Hawke thought to himself as he trudged up the many stairs to Hightown, his whole body sore from the labor of the day. But a good day, he smiled to himself, feeling accomplished, knowing the many people he helped out.
This is the least you can do, after…
Hawke sighed as he turned the corner, frowning to himself. After you let the Qunari crisis escalate to how it did.
"Stop," he murmured to himself, the heavy feeling of guilt and regret swirling through him like a stomach sickness. Many people died. Many families were torn. The Viscount was murdered, and the Templars took over, swooping in to the empty space of power he left open.
Hawke breathed in deeply and begged the waves of anxiety he was feeling to die down, knowing it did nothing to worry. His stomach still felt heavy like lead as he walked up to this mansion.
Oh? The lights were on inside, did that mean-?
He opened his front door to feel the wave of warmth coming from the fireplace, the soft familiar voices pausing in their conversation as he closed the door behind him.
He walked in to see a group of people sitting on the couches around the fireplace, all of them making a smile come to his face.
"My son!" Leandra called happily from the couch, the older woman smiling at him. Isabela sat next to her on the couch, with Merrill and Lyra sitting on the carpet in front, all four of the women holding teacups and sitting comfortably.
"Mother," Hawke felt his face break into a smile. "Everyone," he nodded to the other three as he walked around to approach his mother, still wearing her travelling clothes. He reached down and met Leandra's arms in a hug, squeezing her gently and relishing in knowing she was home safe.
"You made it back," he said softly as Leandra gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
"Yes, finally, it's been so long," she gestured to her guests, holding her tea. "I ran into these three darlings on the docks when my ship came in, and they were so sweet to help me carry my bags up all those steps."
"Thank you," Hawke grinned at Isabela, Lyra, and Merrill, thankful for these considerate friends. Isabela waved it away, but spoke nicely.
"We've always loved your mom. Leandra's been telling us all the juicy tales of Orlais, you walked in on the after parties," she gave him a wink and he raised an eyebrow at her, looking down to meet Merrill and Lyra's gazes, Merrill piping up.
"We tried to fill her in, on, everything that happened."
"My son, the Champion of Kirkwall? I have to write all my friends," Leandra mused, and Hawke chuckled.
"Oh no, please, I'm hoping that doesn't stick." he bent to kneel down on the carpet to sit next to Lyra, crossing his legs and meeting her startling eyes briefly with a wink and a smile. "I smell your tea. But you added something…" he thought, cocking his head, leaning closer to her to better catch the scent. "Is it… cherry?"
"Yes," Lyra nodded with a knowing smile, offering him her cup for him to try. He took a sip, nodding in approval before looking up to his mother.
"I need to hear about everything, but let me wash up first; it's been a long day," he made his way back up to his feet, leaning down to give Leandra a quick kiss on her forehead, glancing again to meet his friend's gazes. "Thank you all again for helping her out; stay, I'll break open a bottle for us in a bit."
Lyra peered after him thoughtfully as he hurried off to the bathroom to wash, still feeling a lingering warmth where his knee brushed hers. Leandra, Isabela, and Merrill resumed the conversation and Lyra struggled to focus.
Ever since that night, she studied her tea, appreciating its newer shade of rose from the dried cherries. Ever since that night I stayed over for that hard anniversary, what was it, a month ago now? Did I imagine the spark I felt between us? The butterflies that threaten to explode in my stomach every time he meets my eyes is overwhelming. His touch… she shifted on the carpet, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear, remembering the ways he has held her, his touch is…
"...right, Lyra?"
Lyra blinked up when she heard her name, catching Merrill's knowing smile and Leandra's patient gaze. "Forgive me, I seemed to have fallen into a daydream."
Merrill sipped from her cup. "I was telling Leandra about the alienage, and how it's turned to a brighter place since you moved in."
Lyra smiled and shook her head, "It's thanks to you too, Merrill." she nodded up to Leandra. "We have a festival coming up; the Summer Solstice, if you'd like to come try the mead and Dalish cooking. We'd love you to visit."
"Oh how fun that sounds, I'd be delighted," Leandra nodded excitedly, looking over the three women with a tired smile. "Forgive me my exhaustion, my dears; I think I'll retire early and catch up on some missed sleep. Feel free to stay as long as you'd like; I'm sure my son won't be long."
The three said their goodbyes as the Hawke mother made her leave, complementing Lyra's tea and thanking them one last time for their help carrying her bags. Isabela shifted, glancing to meet Lyra's gaze with a hesitant look, catching Lyra by surprise by her more reserved expression.
"Robin, I've been meaning to talk to you, thinking about the elven festival and all, reminded me," she fidgeted slightly, and the two elves waited patiently for her to gather her words. She chuckled nervously. "I've uh… started spending time with Fenris."
Lyra blinked, surprised, and intrigued, quickly gauging Isabela's body language and feeling a smile come to her face. I'm honestly so glad to hear. And to think, I've been feeling the same way about her ex, what a coincidence. She opened her mouth to ask how he's been doing, but Isabela continued quickly, not meeting her eyes. "I know it's been a while since you two were together, but I still wanted you to hear about it from me first, and I totally get it if you-"
"Isabela," Lyra stopped her, meeting her eyes with a smile, "I'm not in the least bit angry, or annoyed, if anything I'm relieved-"
Lyra stopped abruptly, clearing her throat and continuing. "I'm happy, to think he might be happy, and you might be happy," she smiled at her and stood from the carpet, coming to sit next to her on the couch. She took Isabela's hands in her own, smiling encouragingly into her friend's eyes. "You're so brave, and so considerate, to tell me, and I love you for it."
Isabela seemed to melt slightly, letting out a breath and squeezing Lyra's hands. "Oh I'm so glad. It's all been a bit weird and all but I feel loads better telling you about it."
"I…" Lyra swallowed, looking between her eyes for a moment before glancing down to meet Merrill's too. "I… should also, tell you…" she felt her cheeks heat and she seemed to shrink.
Tell them? About my feelings for him?
"About the big guy?" Isabela pointed casually with her thumb towards the other room where Hawke had exited, and Lyra looked over there and back quickly, fear in her eyes. Isabela gasped, excited. "Wait, have you two finally gotten toge-"
"No!" Lyra hissed, eyes flitting to the other room, then looking between her friends who neither looked at all surprised at her indirect confession. Her gut dropped in dread as she slightly shrunk back, keeping her voice in a whisper. "Please, I don't wish to complicate our friendship if he doesn't also-, I don't know that he, I don't think-" she sighed and frowned at the amused grins coming from her friends, shaking her head exasperatedly. "Gods preserve me, I'm so obvious, aren't I."
"I wouldn't worry about it, lethallan," Merrill giggled softly, sharing a knowing look with Isabela, who nodded in agreement.
"Kitten's right, Robin. Honestly, no need to whisper-"
"Ah," Lyra shook her head, blushing hard, standing from the couch quickly and gathering all the teacups busily. "I, I'm, thankful, it doesn't bother you either, Isabela, I…" she fussed and took the teacups to the kitchen, needing to move to relieve some of the tension in her body. She came back, her face still in full blush, to Isabela chatting away happily.
"...and now my favorite fantasy involves the spiky glowing elf, the Champion human hunk, the beautiful exotic Robin, and me, drunk off my tits, all four of us together all at once on one giant bed would just sound so-"
"Isabela please!" Merrill laughed, stopping her from going further into her foursome fantasy details, Lyra shocked still for a moment and heavily amused by Isabela's teasing. Lyra unfroze, holding back laughter at her friend's ridiculousness.
"Enough of that, love, I'm not on the clock," Lyra winked at Isabela with a grin, swaggering over to her in their common flirty fashion usually found at the Hanged Man. The three devolved into common banter, the friendship among the three women never before stronger.
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"Lyra! Varric! Focus fire on the front legs!" Hawke shouted above the battle sounds, watching Varric turn Bianca's line of fire and seeing Lyra's arrows focusing from wherever she was hiding. The dragon in front of them stood taller than his mansion, with sparkling scales that were splashed with blood and with the ground around her littered with her dead dragonlings. She was magnificent. Deadly, but magnificent.
He felt Ander's healing magic strengthen his muscles, and he took advantage of the timing to charge the beast, taking her attention away from the three other long-range attackers.
She's weakening, he thought, seeing the large mother's attacks become slower. Her resolve may be fading as well, after seeing him and his companions kill so many of her offspring. They had been fighting for what felt like hours, but was probably not more than twenty minutes.
He blocked one of her claws with his shield, feeling the dull thud of the impact ripple down his legs to his feet, and then drove his sword from underneath, embedding the steel into the palm of her front claw, feeling it part muscle and scrape against bone. The roar that followed was deafening, and Hawke pulled desperately to dislodge his sword before she had a chance to send him flying. He was hunched under his shield, yanking on his sword, when he felt hands grab onto his shoulders and lightly push down on him, followed by the sight of Lyra vaulting over him and onto the front arm of the dragon.
She was clothed as usual, in her signature grey and black leather, and her bow was strapped to her back, replaced by her daggers in her hands. He watched her nimbly climb up the dragon's limb, onto its shoulder, grabbing onto a spike coming from its neck. He stopped pulling, and instead shoved the sword further into the flesh of the beast, in an attempt to keep its attention away from his friend.
Damn it, Lanyra, be careful!
"Anders!" Hawke shouted, and he watched the mage understand the message as a blue field immersed Lyra, strengthening her and protecting her. She clung onto the spike on the dragon's neck as she thrashed and roared, in pain from Hawke's sword as he used all of his strength to slice down into the palm of its claw towards its wrist.
He quickly reversed the motion, wrenching his sword upwards with a roar, and sliced through its palm through the webbing between its claws, cutting the claw clean in half and spraying himself with gallons of blood.
He jumped back quickly, but watched closely as Lyra clung to the dragon as it thrashed in pain. Then, in an instant, she pulled herself up and scaled its neck, clinging to the the spike closest to its head. In a second where the dragon wasn't thrashing, Lyra lunged and plunged her daggers into the eyes of the beast with terrifying speed and precision.
Hawke had thought he had heard the loudest roar possible, but the sound that came from the dragon was in absolute horror. In a state of pure adrenaline he charged the dragon, and as it lowered its head in an attempt to throw Lyra off, he stabbed upward, thrusting his sword up through the base of its jaw, and deep into its skull, marking the final blow.
He wrenched his sword out, spilling gallons more blood, and jumped back to avoid the large beast landing on him. The dragon collapsed right in front of him with Lyra still holding on to her daggers embedded in its eyes, and he panted heavily as the dust settled and the ground stopped shaking. He dropped his sword and shield on the ground, clattering as he approached his friend, still crouching on top of the dead dragon's head. Her hood was drawn, as always, so he could not see her expression, but as he strode towards her, she dislodged her daggers smoothly in a bloody spray, and rose slowly from her crouch, like a predator who had just made a perfect kill. Her face rose to meet his gaze, her blue-green fires scorching him from within the shadow of her hood, the deadly flames of her gaze burning calmly and controlled.
Hawke stopped dead in his tracks, his breath hitched from an invisible blow to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. There, standing in front of him, stood the most unbelievably beautiful being, a sight so completely captivating he nearly fell to his knees in shock. She simply stood there looked at him from the top of a dragon's head, but he felt like he was in the center of an amphitheater with a crowd of thousands strong around them, with this woman in front of him as the main event. The way her hands loosely held blood-soaked daggers that had just seconds ago gouged out the eyes of a dragon, the way she had risen from her crouch so gracefully on the head of the beast they just killed together, how her eyes looked at him with such raw, bright energy from the adrenaline…
Hawke stood frozen with his knees locked. The moment passed and he watched her let out a sigh of relief, her expression softening from her concentration as she realized they could relax and celebrate. Lyra's face broke into a smile so carefree and unashamed, feeling the energy of their victory as she looked at him...
She stepped down from the dragon's bleeding head and sheathed her daggers, but her eyes remained locked on his as she cocked her head at him. The way she looked at him, smiling at him so openly, with her joy spilling out from her that she shared with him so publicly on display for the world, made him just stare at her dumbly as a realization set in quite securely, without any room for interpretation.
I have completely fallen for this woman.
He vaguely heard the whoops and cheers from Anders and Varric behind him, but the rest of the world felt muted as she strode towards him with her smiling blue-greens, and he moved without thinking as she got closer to him.
When she was feet away he reached out and grasped her, pulling her firmly into an embrace. His arms encircled her and he held her to him tightly, feeling her arms wrap around him as well as she turned her face into the crook of his neck, the movement the most natural feeling in the world. He bent and hugged her securely, her scent and her form feeling so absolutely right next to him at this moment and his knees going weak when he felt her arms tighten around him. She is safe. She is safe. She is safe.
"You are uninjured?" she asked softly from beneath his jaw, and he involuntarily shivered from the intimacy, her breath brushing his skin. Not trusting his voice, he merely nodded. They stayed like that for a moment or two, before he felt her shift slightly to look at him. He looked down to meet her startling gaze, and he found her smile amused, though her eyes kind.
"Is it your goal to soak my clothing in dragon blood?"
He blinked and then looked down, suddenly remembering that he was covered head to toe in blood from the battle. He released her quickly and stepped away, chuckling nervously.
"Ah, just checking to see that you still have all your limbs after such a battle." She watched him as he fumbled awkwardly. "Ah yes, I count four."
She chuckled and shook her head, before turning away slightly to remove her hood, baring her bright braided hair to the sun. She glanced at him sideways, her eyes widened and curious, her smile small. Hawke felt every beat of his heart resonate through his being.
"That was incredible!" Varric cheered from behind. "Children will be talking about this battle for ages to come!" Hawke mentally shook himself before turning to him. Varric continued enthusiastically. "Drinks on me, tonight!"
"What a rush!" Anders agreed, the two coming to join them at the head of the dragon's corpse. Varric continued, still ecstatic.
"The Champion of Kirkwall, driving his Holy sword into the jaw of the 7 story tall dragon matriarch, after slaying countless of her offspring, each death adding a notch to her unrelenting malice!"
Hawke smiled and shook his head, before looking over to see Lyra near the head of the dead beast. She was crouched down, and at a closer look, she was filling a spare wineskin with the blood dripping steadily from the corner of its jaw. She must have felt his gaze, because she looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes bright.
"Dragon blood has incredible healing properties. It needs to be gathered fresh." she smiled and went back to her task, before glancing back at him over her shoulder curiously, her eyes perceptive, and asking him more softly. "Are you alright, Aedan?"
He blinked and realized he was staring again before quickly nodding and averting his eyes with a forced smile. "Killed my first dragon. I'd say I'm doing quite right."
She grinned at him. "Damn right. I'll buy you a drink tonight."
"He deserves more than that." Anders slapped Hawke's shoulder, buzzing from the adrenaline. "Hawke seriously needs to get laid tonight. Varric? That's our mission."
Hawke's eyes found Lyra's instantly. They both glanced away. Varric chuckled.
"I think we all need a damned nap, after that fight. I haven't felt this drained since the Deep roads."
"Fine, nap, then smash. I haven't felt this alive in years!"
Hawke chuckled and slapped Ander's shoulder back. "It sounds like we should find someone for you to smash, my friend."
"Yeah, maybe," he said with a spin of his staff.
"While you all are napping and smashing, I'll just go let the merchant know that the beast who was causing all of those deaths has been dealt with," Lyra teased. Anders saluted her, and Varric clasped his hands in dramatic praise. Hawke chuckled as she flicked them all off with a grin, and as a group, they headed back to the city.
Lyra fell in place next to Hawke, lagging behind the dwarf and mage eager to get home. She met his eyes with her soft ones.
"That was fun. I know I chose right, spending my retirement following you, if we are getting to kill dragons."
"A bit young for retirement, aren't we?" he cocked his head at her and smiled, his heart still quaking slightly from looking at her. Get it together. She nodded thoughtfully, something on her mind.
"You're right. Though I doubt it has anything to do with age. Retirement will be when I can disappear into some forest or another, when the restlessness to constantly be fighting for something has finally faded away."
He looked at her, meeting her eyes. She was tired, he could see, from the fight, but the same relentless energy that made him get up in the morning and fight every day was lighting her eyes.
"I understand that. I'd love to live a life of relaxation, but… I can't. Not yet. There's still so much to do."
She nodded in agreement. "I thought perhaps, after the Blight and everything that happened, I would be able to just fade into a new city, live the rest of my days in safety and comfort." she shook her head and smiled absently. "But then I had to go and find people like you who remind me, how amazing it is to live."
He felt his heart swell, and his brows upturned. She met his gaze, her expression reserved, but her eyes soft. He spoke without thinking, staring into her wells he felt so comfortable in.
"Fighting, every day, is all well and good for me. But I realized today, looking up at you after the battle, that it feels incredible to have someone to fight for."
Her eyes widened and a blush shown from under her Vallaslin. She blinked at him, and he swallowed when he really heard not just what he had said, but how he had said it.
What am I saying… What am I doing?
He looked away and chuckled nervously, trying to relieve the tension for her. "Forgive me, I must be dazed from all the blood. Does dragon blood give you a good high, as well as having healing properties?"
He kept his eyes averted, and heard the second of silence from her. It didn't last long, however, and she chuckled back to his relief.
"I don't think so, but I do know of something that will smoke us a good high, if you're interested. I'd have to talk to a friend first."
He glanced at her, slightly thrown off balance from her response, but intrigued. "Actually…hell. Yeah, why not?"
They smiled at each other, her eyes curious, his looking away after a short time. You need to watch yourself, Hawke.
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Lyra felt a hand roughly grab her ass through her apron as she passed a table, the feeling of alarm shooting through her. She stumbled from shock, doing all she could to keep the pitcher and glasses on the tray she was holding from toppling.
Her head whipped around her, eyes searching defensively, but all she found was the same suspicious group of men who had been bothering her all night, 5 of them sitting at a table in the Hanged Man, none of them looking her way and all of them snickering to themselves.
Damn it, she thought to herself uncomfortably, quickly walking away towards the safety of behind the bar. I want to throw them out, but the owner already left and Varric is passed out somewhere, and I'm the only one working...
Lyra absently filled her pitcher and cleaned some glasses, the loud ruckas of the Hanged Man a familiar background drone. Her neck pricked as she felt a pair of eyes watching her, and she raised her gaze to find the piercing blues of her companion and leader; Aedan Hawke.
He watched her from the far side of the Hanged Man at their party's usual table. Anders and Isabela sat on either side of him, but the full attention of this large warrior was on her. She stopped what she was doing to blink at him, slowly reading his expression through the haze of the dirty pub. His blues held a sharp edge, his shoulders were tensed. Her eyes widened.
He saw, the groping men touch me.
She smiled at him when she finally understood, shaking her head lightly and trying to reassure him nonverbally that all was well. He returned her smile, but his gaze did not soften.
Aedan. My watchful guardian. She thought with a smile to herself, a warm feeling entering her chest knowing she wasn't alone. Working as a waitress was rarely an uneventful shift, and though Lyra was more than capable of handling anything thrown her way in this rowdy bar, it still made her feel relieved to know she had someone looking out for her. Even more so since she and Hawke had become much closer in the passing months, and even more so since her feelings for him had only grown more severe. He doesn't know, what he means to me.
She finished refilling her pitcher and walked over to her friends' table, knowing they could go through a pitcher in mere minutes. She unconsciously took a wide berth around the table with the touchy men, trying not to let it show on her face as she met Aedan's eyes again.
"Robin! You're my angel," Isabela praised as Lyra set the pitcher down in front of the three.
"Anything for you, Isabela," Lyra cooed with a grin, bending over and giving her a light kiss on the pirate's forehead. Isabela swooned happily and Lyra giggled, before Anders eagerly filled his cup.
"I'm tipping heavily tonight, Lyra, your timing's perfect."
"How are you doing?" Hawke asked her directly, blues peering up at her knowingly, and Lyra blinked at him before letting a smile mask her face.
"Tired, as usual, but the rush is over, I'm just left with you lot and the other drunkards," she winked lightly before gathering their empty glasses and waving as she left to tend to another table.
All is well, she told herself, grabbing what she needed at the bar before taking a second to take a breath and steel her nerves. You are strong. You are powerful. You helped take down a dragon today, and it wasn't your first. You are strong.
She walked up to the table while watching all five of the men, their gazes less subtle and their smiles less polite from how drunk most of them had become. Their eyes felt like insects crawling under her clothes, the aura they held felt like having to walk through quicksand, slowing her steps and constricting her breathing.
She smiled grimly as she gathered the empty glasses on their table, her nerves held in uncomfortable suspension from hope that they would just leave it alone, when the one to her left with an eye patch reached out and let a heavy hand rest on the side of her waist. Her nerves seized up.
She flinched, masking a frown and starting to retract, when his drunken slur called out and his hand slightly tightened.
"You've got some fine assets for an elf, sweetheart," the man stunk of booze and sweat, and Lyra felt a shiver of disgust travel down her spine. She smiled politely and diverted.
"Can I get anything else for you all?" she pulled away from the man's grip with her tray, and took the delayed few seconds of the mens' drunken processing as a pass to leave, hearing a few crude remarks of 'get me a room with you,' and 'get on your knees,' as she quickly walked away.
Vile, she thought with a shiver, looking around self-consciously and hoping no one else had heard.
She reached the front of the bar and was dropping off some glasses when her instincts flared and she felt danger right behind her. She whirled around just in time to see the eye patched man block her vision, his frame blocking out the light and pushing towards her so she had to look up to meet his bloodshot gaze. His hands reached around either side of her to lean against the counter, blocking her in and letting a crude smirk twist his mouth.
Push him away! Her mind screamed at her, but her arms could only twitch from the shock, she was frozen. Push him away!
"Sweetheart, get ole' Sal another drink," he breathed down on her, and her chest seized in panic, overwhelmed by the smell and how close he was and how his hand reached down for her-
"Babe!" a booming voice rang out, catching their attention to the side. The familiar large, broad shouldered, muscular man approached them with the fiercest look in his eye, pinning them both in place as he stalked towards them. Aedan, Lyra thought with relief, pressing back into the counter to get as far away from the offending man as she could in that moment.
Hawke fixed a curious smile on the smaller man, though his eyes were like hardened, sharp diamond, ready to cut. "Who's this?" he asked directly, staring into the man's one eye as he came upon the two. Hawke's arm casually slipped around Lyra's shoulders, the weight so familiar and comforting, as he cocked his head and smiled dead-pan at the other man.
"Ah…" the eye patch fumbled, taking a step back from the intimidating strength, the distance slightly clearing the haze of fear away from Lyra's eyes and limbs. Lyra temporarily slumped into the support of her friend as her heart calmed from its fast beating, before the other four men at the table realized what was happening. One by one they stood from the table and approached, backing up their friend.
"Hey, we got a problem here?" one of them asked with a growl, glancing to Hawke before looking Lyra up and down with hunger in his eyes. Lyra's face twisted in disgust, and chilly ice flooded her veins from the look in his gaze.
"Yeah," Hawke said in a deadly monotone, now staring this man down. "You can't keep your hands off my girl."
Lyra swallowed and registered. Aedan knows these are frequent customers, and that the owner would want this solved peacefully. He's trying to intimidate them to leave, and making them think we're together is the fastest way.
"Your girl? This wench?" another of the drunk ones said, shaking his head in disbelief, causing a few chuckles from the others. "Come on, mate, you could do better than this knife-eared bi-"
Hawke moved with surprising speed, slamming his fist into the face of the man before he could finish, and sending him toppling back, falling into one of his friends. "Fuck you, bastard," Hawke growled, clenching his fist to get ready to punch another. The eye patch responded first, yelling out angrily and pulling his own fist back.
Lyra finally unfroze, seeing her friend in a fight and her instincts finally kicking back in. Eye patch swung his fist forward, and before it could connect with Hawke's face Lyra slapped it out of the way, her lightning fast reflexes back alight. The man stumbled forward, and Hawke took the pause to jump towards him, tackling him to the ground with a yell.
In an instant the entire bar erupted. Yells and shouts were followed by the sounds of breaking glass and thuds of brawling. Lyra dodged the hands of an angry man and pushed him away, and she took the chance to grab a bar stool and hurl it at him. Hawke pummeled the lights out of the one he had on the ground and then took a kick from the back from another. Anders came running in yelling to Hawke's defense, taking a punch but returning with his own drunken swings.
"YES, BAR FIGHT!" Isabela cheered from somewhere in the chaotic mess of the pub, while Lyra shot a messy right hook towards the man with the wandering eyes.
Punches, kicks, yells, punches, tackles, and booze was flying every which way the air was filled with it, and Lyra paused after a minute to slip over to the bar and get herself a shot of something, anything, whatever was on hand that was strong.
She sat heavily on a stool and downed two shots while chaos surrounded her, coughing slightly from how fast she took the punishing liquid, and then looked up at a bloody Hawke grinning towards her as he joined her at the bar amidst the chaos, bumping into her affably.
Lyra beamed up at him as she poured another half dozen shots and slid him a few.
"You come here often?" Hawke yelled to her jokingly over the noise, his nose bleeding and his knuckles bloody as he downed a couple shots, and Lyra laughed out loud, holding her fourth shot out to cheers with him, a random man toppling over the bar beside them from Anders throwing him.
"Hey!" Lyra yelled, shooting the hit of liquor she was holding before pointing with her dripping shot glass to their raging mage friend. "Not at the bar!"
Anders nodded to her impatiently, slumping next to Hawke briefly and taking one of the shots Lyra was continuously pouring before running off to jump into the fray again. Lyra shook her head, head buzzing from the booze, and the brightest smile bubbled up from her chest as she leaned against Hawke's broad arm, yelling up to him so he could hear her over the noise.
"You're the best, you know that?" she giggled, the successive shots buzzing through her hard, and Hawke looked down, meeting her gaze with his smiling blues before shaking his head.
"I don't know, I fucked that up, the diplomacy, pretty fast," he chuckled, and Lyra shook her head.
"Fuck those guys. I don't know what, what came over me, I just… just, couldn't..." she searched for words to describe her helplessness but just drank another shot instead. Hawke's arm wound its way around her shoulders again, and she immediately rested against it.
"I know you can handle yourself, I just…" Hawke shook his head and kicked back another shot, angrily slamming it down on the bar in front of them. His arm tightened around her shoulders protectively, the feeling like security. Lyra turned to him, then, with his arm still around her, and slipped her arms around his midsection, bringing her face into his shirt and giving him a hug.
Hearing him call me 'my girl', was… her insides shuddered. Even if it was for show, he… she asked out loud what she was thinking from the alcohol coursing through her, wiping away all her caution.
"You think they really believed it?" she mumbled into his shirt, and he lowered his face to hers to hear her properly. His body had stilled, somewhat, but remained comfortable.
"Believed…?" he asked, his other arm coming to complete their embrace. He squeezed her closer and Lyra sunk further, shamelessly burrowing into his arms with the world in chaos around them. Lyra felt a half-smile come upon her lips, raising her face slightly so her nose brushed his collar, memorizing what it felt for his hands to be holding her shoulder and lower back.
Alright Aedan, I'll say it.
"Believed that we're together," she whispered. She felt, the slightest skip in his heartbeat, the slightest intake of breath, the slightest…
"Well…" Hawke breathed, one of his hands running up her back slowly, his fingertips gliding up under her hair to tickle the skin on the back of her neck, making her shiver. His voice was low, low enough so only she could hear. "If they hadn't, I would have just, had to prove it to them."
Lyra swallowed, gut dropping from how he said that, in that voice, in her ear…
She pulled back slightly, just so she could open her eyes and look up at him.
Gods, his eyes bore into hers so attentively, watching, asking, seeing, an eyebrow starting to rise from how long she was staring at him…
"I don't know," she started, sitting up slowly and looking away aloofly. She sat up straighter, reaching to pour another glass, before eyeing him sideways, raising a challenging brow. "I don't know, if you could have convinced them."
She casually took another shot, feeling the liquid confidence swirl through her like the intoxicating substance it was, and feeling Hawke's eyes like how she had always wanted him to look at her.
"Really," Hawke cocked his head, biting onto her challenge like she knew he would, and leaning closer to her to reach for another shot as well. She glanced up at him when he brought the glass to his lips, and his deep blues stared at her the entire time he drank the liquor and set the glass down, his intensity making her shiver again. His voice was low, reaching somewhere deep within her. "I'll have to prove myself, then."
Just then they were both pushed forward by a random stranger being shoved into them, rudely being reminded they were still in the middle of the bar fight they had started. Hawke pushed the man away from Lyra with a growl, standing from the stool to bring an arm up around her as he quickly scanned the room for any more interruptions. Lyra stood from her stool as well, her chest a hair's breadth away from his, and looked up at him, meeting his wide eyes only inches away from hers.
She raised a hand slowly, resting it softly on the side of his jaw, before slowly running the pad of her thumb across his upper lip, wiping away the stray blood from his nose. He stilled, stopped breathing, blinking, swallowing, his blues flitting between hers and a glint entering his gaze. His lips parted slightly from shock and she lingered a second longer, her eyes flitting down to glance to where she caressed him. The feeling of his lips and his breath and his bristly stubble made her visibly shudder, and there was nothing she could do to try and hide it.
She let her hand fall to his chest for a moment, before stepping away, moving around the bar covered in their empty glasses and holding onto the counter top as she steadied on her drunken legs. She strode towards the back door that led to the side alley, feeling the heavy blue gaze rake her back before she looked over her shoulder to meet it.
"Need some air?" she let a flirty smile slip as she sauntered over to the door, her knees trembling from how he was just looking at her, like he wanted to… Gods, does he really? Does he also feel this?
She felt him before she heard him, his hard chest pressing against her back as she was turning the handle. She let out a small gasp as he pushed them outside together impatiently, the night cold and dark compared to the Hanged Man inside, and the door shut behind them, cutting off the light and noise, leaving them in a dark silence-
She turned and looked up to him and reached for his shirt as his hands rose to hold her face, and everything in her body just stopped as he bent to her and pressed his lips against hers with urgency.
She let out a sound and returned the pressure instantly, weight melting away in her chest in relief as she kissed him, finally kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck and chests rubbing against each other and his quiet moan in pleasure-
Hawke stepped into her, pushing them back, back, she stumbled back and grasped him for support until she hit the brick wall behind her and his lips crushed into hers. She let out a moan, her voice swallowed immediately by him, their lips parting for each others' effortlessly as their kiss deepened with their need. Hawke pressed her into the wall with his body, her back and the back of her head against the hard brick from how he kissed her, his hands gripping her waist as his legs pushed against hers.
Lyra tightened her hold on him, kissing him back with the same ferocity, panting from how hot they had become, how his forceful lips released hers to claim her jawline, the side of her neck, nuzzling into her as he suckled-
"Aedan," she gasped, feeling the sharp perfection of his teeth on her heated skin. She needed to feel, to feel more of him, his rough hands touched her where the rest of his body could not, she pressed her breasts and her hips against him, the friction so rough that she couldn't make up from down. Her fingers dug into his hair as he assaulted her with pleasure, her lips finding his collar and her tongue tasting the familiar scent of the man she felt the pressing need to receive.
One of his legs parted hers; his knee shoved between hers to hit the wall so that his upper thigh rubbed her most sensitive and intimate area. Lyra flinched in shock from a wave of pleasure that tore through her before immediately raising her leg up his side to welcome him closer, their lips finding each others' again like lost magnets. Hawke's breathing was rough, their panting growing louder as his hand left her waist to run down her leg rising to hook around his hip. Her waitress skirt and apron were hitched up as her legs were parted, and she kissed him like she would never kiss again, nipping his bottom lip and spurring him further, faster, harsher. His strong fingers gripped her thigh tightly while his fingers grazed her breast, and his hips pressed her into the wall, her gasp spurring him to kiss her deeper, hips needing to meet, hands grasping where they could, all of it incredible and all of it not enough…
"Lanyra…" Hawke whispered against her lips before kissing her again so earnestly, his arms suddenly decisive. One hand held her thigh, and the other reached down for her other. Lyra barely held onto his neck as he lifted her, still pressing her against the wall, now with her legs straddling him and his hands supporting her by gripping under her thighs. Her skirt was hiked up and hung from her hips, baring her legs to the cool night air, the raw skin of her inner thighs rubbing against his leather belt and her only intimate barrier her thin undercloth. Their lips and tongues battled as he grinded into her, causing them both to moan together into their kiss from the natural alignment of their lower bodies.
"Please, Aedan," Lyra panted her plea, hooking her legs around him and cradling his head to hold on, his lips finding her neck again as he grinded against her so perfectly, shooting a wave of pleasure deep through her from the pressure and friction and heating every last inch of her as he bit down on the soft and sensitive skin on the side of her neck…
Suddenly the door to the Hanged Man burst open with a crash, flooding the alley with light and the noise from inside, causing both Hawke and Lyra to jolt in shock when a familiar drunken voice sounded.
"Ah bloody tits, this room's taken," Isabela slurred, and Lyra clung onto Hawke as he shakily lowered her so she could stand on her own feet, both of them struggling to catch their breath and pull their tangled limbs apart. By the time they both turned to face the door, Isabela had already shut it again, cutting the side alley off from light and noise once again.
Hawke let out a breath and leaned against the wall, turning to her immediately, worried and overwhelmed blues finding hers as Lyra just struggled to stay standing. Gods, I, he's, his eyes are so, his arms, he just… Lyra slumped against the brick wall next to him, heart still hammering, her legs shaking from the shock her body just went through. She blinked up at his concerned gaze in a daze, and watched fear enter his expression.
"Maker, what did I...? Lanyra, are you okay? I…" he let out a shaky breath and shook his head, "I can't believe, I just…" he reached out and helped steady her, except the feeling of his hands grasping her arms, like they had just been gripping her thighs, oh spirits, made her legs even weaker…
"I'm okay," she whispered, smiling slightly and resting a hand on his chest, but he was shaking his head, concern radiating from him.
"We just drank so much, you're- I, shouldn't have, Maker…" he shook his head, backing away from her slightly in panic, whispering, "I'm so sorry, Lanyra, did I hurt you? Did I…" his cheeks were red, from the liquor and from the heat, and Lyra quickly shook her head, forcing herself to stand from the wall, giving him a reassuring smile.
"No, don't worry, Aedan. I'm, only stunned," she breathed, taking a step forward to close their distance, clutching onto his lopsided shirt and letting her forehead fall onto his shoulder, needing a moment for the world to stop spinning. "I don't think, I can serve any more drinks tonight, though," she murmured, her head foggy, and she felt Hawke's arms come around her, though leaving a little distance where he touched her.
"Let's go back inside, and either find a room, or wait to sober up before heading home," Hawke said shakily in a low voice, and they made their way to the door together, both wobbly, the distance of six or so feet feeling like a trek, and they opened the portal to the blinding light of inside with the drone of loud voices, both Lyra and Hawke stopping in their tracks from the overstimulation.
"Elgar'nan, give me strength," Lyra whispered, squinting around the bar to find the aftermath of the bar fight. Tables were toppled, chairs were broken, glass and groaning bodies littered the floor. If I leave this mess I'll be fired, so fast. She left Hawke's side to stumble to the bar as her mind went to survival mode, reaching down behind it to grab a broom and dustpan, knowing the broken glass offered the most danger and figuring that's where she should start. She walked around the bar and into the light, surveying the chaos in front of her, and summoned the remaining of her strength.
"All who can walk, help me clean, or get the hell out!"
She started her rounds of sweeping as the remaining men stumbled to stand, most just leaving and a few stopping to pick up a table. She found Anders among those not quite drunk enough to be useless, and she gave him a smile as he joined a group in flipping tables. Hawke was gathering parts of broken chairs to clear out, and when his gaze found hers, he looked away quickly, his shoulders hunching and his muscles tensed. Lyra could barely process enough with how drunk she was, but one thought pervaded all else in her mind.
I need to sober up and confess my feelings to him.
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