[...]
And from it made his firstborn.
And he said to them:
In My image I forge you,
To you I give dominion
Over all that exists.
By your will
May all things be done.
[…]
Canticle of Threnodies 5
Neria's fingers gripped his hair tightly, her moans and whimpers swallowed by their heated, urgent kiss. Hawke adjusted her legs on his hips, setting them higher and thrusting at the new angle, sliding deeper than before. She arched against him, biting on his lower lip, pressing her breasts against his clothed chest as he picked up the pace.
They didn't have time for anything longer than a quick tryst in a dark corner, hurried and hushed.
He pounded into her, feeling her grow steadily tighter. Release was so very close. Hawke freed a hand, gripping her hastily exposed breast and broke their kiss without warning. Neria's breath hitched dangerously as his lips closed around the nipple. A moment later she shattered around him, taking him with her.
For one moment both remained still, chests heaving, relishing the pleasurable buzz, but they couldn't afford to linger.
Hawke set her down onto her own feet and glanced around surreptitiously while straightening his underwear and robes. The hallway was still abandoned, thank the Maker. "I'll see you later."
Neria winked and without another word they parted ways.
Many things had changed in the few years Hawke had been in the tower. If someone said that the Circle was a steady, stiff environment, they lied. The dynamic of the fraternities had shifted quite often in three years and now the Libertarians counted a number almost as big as the Aequitarians. As a consequence, templar supervision was harsher than ever before which resulted in even more resentment from the Libertarians. All in all the circle was an explosive powder keg and Hawke wasn't entirely sure what it would take for the keg to explode.
People like Neria and Anders, fully supportive of Uldred's fraternity, would have that disaster sooner rather than later of course.
Speaking of Anders – Hawke had found a friend in the healer, enjoyed his company and found in him the one of the few people in the Circle who could make boring times worthwhile.
That said, he wouldn't ever willingly rely on Anders for anything. A year ago the friend had disappeared without a word of goodbye, only to turn up at the doorstep three days later, held between two templar hunters. That the blonde hadn't asked him to join him didn't faze Hawke in the least. Instead he appreciated the perfectly reasonable logic: The chance of success was infinitesimal as it was, a companion brought along would hinder any progress.
The way Anders approached him as one would a skittish animal the day afterward told Hawke, however, that Anders didn't think in such reasons. Still it didn't matter.
A life on the run had taught him that reliance on or trust in something was foolish. Villagers who were perfectly sweet one day would turn on him without hesitation when they found out that he was an apostate. He couldn't rely on them to keep his secret. More importantly, he couldn't trust them with his secret. It was a life lesson hard learned and it held fast even in the safe environment of the Circle. So he laughed with friends, he joked with friends, he cared about friends but he would never trust friends. Even if they were mages too – there were always secrets that demanded to be kept quiet.
"There you are!"
Hawke glanced down as Esanne latched onto his right arm, grinning up at him. At fifteen his cousin still was rather short but slowly she filled out quite nicely as the baby fat disappeared gradually. No doubt that she would be a beautiful young woman in a few years time.
"Where have you been, Hawke? I've been looking everywhere for you!" She rolled her eyes theatrically and Hawke smiled down at her. "So just the library?"
"You bet." She leaned closer and gave his robes a quick sniff. A smirk appeared on her lips and she regarded him shrewdly from under her thick lashes.
"Oh I see. Had fun, yes? Did you finally confess?"
The templar they passed cleared his throat rather loudly and looked at them suspiciously. Hawke waited until they were out of hearing range, then he snorted.
"I don't love her, Esanne. I told you a million times already."
"But why would you sleep with her if you don't love her?"
Why, she asked. Why indeed. Not about to corrupt the rare innocence of his cousin, Hawke held back his laugh and didn't reply. In a few years, she would know why. Intimately.
"So did you look for me for a reason, Ann?" Esanne shrugged but there was an uneasy expression on her face. He blinked and decided to drop it.
"So where's your pet?"
Esanne stiffened. Huh. Or not. "He's not my pet and he's perfectly capable of being away from me. Glad about it actually, or so he told me."
And there's the problem.
Now that she'd begun, Esanne didn't wait for him to prompt her to elaborate. Maybe because she knew that he wouldn't. Personal business was... personal. Esanne's voice trembled slightly.
"Yeah, glad to be away from me 'cause I'm a teacher's pet. And Irving's favourite."
Hawke's eyebrows rose slightly. "Jowan's jealous."
Esanne huffed. "He's an arse. I don't have anything he should be jealous about."
"Talent."
She blinked at his laconic reply. "Huh?"
Hawke resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Talent," he repeated patiently, "is something that you have in abundance and he doesn't have at all."
The girl frowned disapprovingly at him, pursing her lips. "That's not a nice thing to say, Hawke," she said reproachfully, tightening her grip on his arm.
Hawke smiled lopsidedly. "Truth rarely is."
They greeted Senior Enchanter Torrin politely as he passed. None of the Enchanters had ever taught Hawke and he didn't feel obliged to show them any respect but life was so much easier when they just dismissed him as another mage.
Entering the library, Esanne jumped when the templar guarding the door spat at them both.
Hawke kept his mouth shut and led her away quickly to where Anders was most likely waiting for him.
"So that means," Esanne concluded, "We're not talking right now. And I'm... kind of lonely."
Anders was indeed sitting in one of the chairs near the hearth, book in his lap and looking up at their approach.
"So you tracked down your cousin. I see."
Hawke nodded his greeting to Anders and settled into the comfortable chair right next to him. Esanne frowned and glared at the other mage, disgruntled. She had never liked Anders, him being the rule-breaking, overly amorous, disrespectful lout that he was, breaking every ideal that she'd ever had.
Hawke leaned back, stretched out his long legs and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Be nice now, both of you," he said lazily when they shot venomous glares at each other.
Anders made a hmph and closed the book. Making a point of ignoring the apprentice he said: "D'you hear, Hawke? They caught a templar with one of their charges."
"Ser Rylock," Hawke barely blinked. "I don't think I have to guess as to who was the 'charge', do I?"
Anders smirked wryly. "She deserved it. Got a reprimand and the promise that she'll be reassigned or fired if she steps out of line again."
Esanne sniffed derisively. "Only you could sink so low, Anders."
Hawke sent her a sharp look that shut her mouth and made her stare at him defiantly. "She didn't suspect anything when you came onto her?"
Anders grinned. "Who said that it was me who made the first step?" He digressed when Hawke just raised an eyebrow. "Oh well, yes. And no, she didn't."
"Most likely she'll want to flay you alive now." Hawke found it morbidly amusing and judging from Anders' unimpressed look, the other noticed.
"Once again I'm amazed at how endearing you are, my friend." But Anders smiled good-naturedly. Then his demeanour changed on a moment's notice as he turned to Esanne.
"By the way, Amell, I stopped by earlier when you had your Creation lesson. I'm sad to say that your healing spell is quite pitiable."
Esanne choked and flushed, anger making her speechless. Hawke harrumphed but unlike the girl before, Anders simply ignored his warning and instead launched himself into a debate about proper healing. As an abysmal healer at the best of times, Hawke didn't even attempt to follow their discussion.
They had given up on trying to teach Hawke how to heal half a year ago. And really, he was astonished that Anders had tried for that long when it was clear to everyone that he didn't possess even one talented cell when it came to Creation.
Soon enough Esanne stood up and with a huff and a shrill "I hate you, you dirty mongrel!" she stormed away.
Anders chuckled and leaned back. "Good riddance."
Hawke met his eyes and saw the grin drop as soon as the other took in his completely blank face. "That," he said, sounding completely indifferent "was uncalled for, Anders."
The healer pursed his lips. "Alright, I'm sorry. It's really easy to rile her up."
Hawke stared at him a moment longer, then he averted his gaze. "That's no excuse."
"I know, I know. 'To each his own blame', right?" Anders exaggerated the phrase greatly, sounding quite derisive.
"Exactly," Hawke stood up "You know where to find me when you're in a more tolerable mood." And without looking at the other mage, he swept out of the library.
-DEAR TO ME –
"Great. Just a little less energy... perfect." Neria surveyed the small ward Hawke was conjuring critically. At the moment it was pure Fade he wove, nothing else, and as such only the brim glowed a bright blue, the rest could as well have been air to any warrior. To a mage it was a complex circuit of energy, ethereal and mesmerising.
"Is it stable?"
Hawke adjusted his mental grip on the Fade, watching the energy flow for one moment. Then he nodded, eyes never leaving the ward. "Alright. A small strand of primal energy next."
"I'm taking lightning," he informed her so that she would know what to do should he lose focus. Neria nodded seriously. "Go ahead."
Hawke closed his eyes. This part required his mental eye more than it did his physical.
It was easy for him – keeping one mental hand on the Fade construct and reaching into his very core for the primal power with the other. He'd chosen lightning because it was the one elemental form that came to him without even a thought. The difficulty was rather that he had to make sure to only use a tiny bit of elemental energy – too much too quickly could result in total chaos. Anything to do with the Fade was to be treated with much care – he was quite sure that it would create a thin tear should his ward collapse violently.
Tapping into his primal core, Hawke withdrew only the tiniest bit and began weaving it carefully into the Fade construct.
"Oh Maker... good, that's very good, Hawke. I guess it's safe to take more."
He only saw the energy currents flow in a wild spectacle and it was tempting to open his eyes to see what had Neria so breathless but he didn't dare to. This was only their second try as the first had determined that Neria may be brilliant in theory but not so much in practice.
Hawke set some more pure lightning free, listening to her gasping. "Amazing. Let's leave it at that for the moment."
He opened his eyes and blinked, trying to take in all at once. The former colourless ward was now an intricate pattern of arcing lightning and shimmering light, forming a beautiful but lethal weapon should one pass through.
"Now to try to hide it from view," Hawke said slowly, going through the plan in his head once again. This shouldn't be too difficult either but too much self-confidence had killed greater man. Making sure that he had not only good but perfect control of his element, Hawke focussed on the Fade once again. It had changed only marginally but it proved their thesis nonetheless: The longer the ward was activated, the more the elemental energy would draw upon its Fade construct to power itself even further. As a consequence the construct would slowly disintegrate until there was none left.
Hawke strengthened the existing frame further and proceeded to mould some more Fade energy, weaving it tightly around all the elemental currents until they couldn't be seen anymore.
And like that the ward was completely invisible to every eye but a mage's. But...
"I can't see the primal energy at all," Neria sounded baffled "That's incredible! All I can see is the Fade frame. Ingenious!"
Hawke smiled wanly at her excitement. "The ward has an expiry date. We were right, the element burns its way through the Fade energy, powering itself."
Neria glanced at him, mouth half open. "So that means..."
"Sooner or later it will become visible again and a bit later only the elemental energy will remain. But I'd wager a guess that it takes a few hours, maybe days for this construct to vanish completely." Hawke moved a hand over his eyes, keeping his mental ones under tight control.
"Well," Neria said, sinking onto Hawke's bed. They had had to use the mage chambers because of the precarious nature of their research. No doubt the templars would have cast them down with a Holy Smite almost immediately had they done this in the library.
"Of course the ward itself is stronger than what the caster initially aimed for. How destructive it would be, Hawke, if you had given away all your primal power? I don't dare imagine!" But telling from her thrilled behaviour she did. Hawke frowned instead.
"It means that I will never use such a ward lightly, Neria," he replied quietly, staring into her hazel eyes. "Because it would be fatal if anyone triggered it."
His elven companion grimaced. "Maker, have some fun, Hawke." Then she sighed. "But you're sensible. And right. I think it might be enough to blast an entire castle off the face of Thedas."
Hawke closed his eyes and began to dismantle the small ward. He really didn't want to think about the damage a fully powered ward could cause, especially powered by his abnormally large mana.
Layer to layer he tore down very carefully and within seconds, the ward was gone.
Neria dangled her legs, regarding him expectantly. He sighed and gave in.
"Let's try it again." But smaller. Much, much smaller.