A/N:This took me longer than I thought, but mostly trying to combat putting everything I can into the chapter vs leaving out just enough. Also this drunk weather isnt helping me, but I will finish this story if it kills me. I also like to thank my beta Arista (who might be leaving me for New York, which I might do if it meant being close to a 24-7 pie anything shop)
It was hide and seek today. Rainy days were always hide and seek days whenever mother and father were out busy and left Carver and Bethany alone to make their own fun. They always did this whenever they needed to run around and exhaust themselves to act complacent around their parents. Especially since they argued at an alarming rate over the past months.
Carver never did like hearing his mother raise her voice and cry, especially when she was right and Father was in the wrong. How especially wrong his Father was whenever his Mother would have a fresh bruise hidden under some foundation. No matter how many times his Mother tried to hide it, Carver would run up to her to help her with everything and anything to keep her mind off it.
His plans never fell through whenever both parents went out to an event, because Carver wasn't old enough to stay up late and attend. He wasn't old enough to chaperone his Mother to make sure she came home safely. He wasn't old enough to stick a sword in his Father, like the evil dragon that he was, and save his Mother like a shining knight.
Bethany was the first to notice, being the other half of his soul, and felt the same. Yet how she dealt with it was much simpler than dark wishes and haunting daydreams.
So instead they played a game of hide and seek.
It would happen that for any other children they would get bored of the game after the first month. For these two, they cherished the game because it let them learn something new about their house that was never given any special attention. Like the small nook in the library that overlooked the foyer whenever Father came home late at night, or the blind spot on the balcony that overlooked the gardens from Bethany's room whenever they watched the stars or heard their mother weeping on the gazebo by herself. Or perhaps the greatest hiding spot: The passage into the cellars.
This was Carver's greatest secret, because not only were they never allowed to venture in there, but it was also his favorite hiding spot. True, he never told anyone except Bethany, keeping up the lie that he had respected his parents' wishes, yet he went there on certain days to play with his greatest treasures:
A small sword he plundered from one of the hired guards and a weird wooden staff.
The sword was there around the time his Father went from such a loving man to an ignorant ogre. Carver practiced with it every day and mimicked whatever he saw the Guard do in their training. The staff, however, showed up out of the blue. Carver never questioned how such an item had come into his possession. It had a carving of what looked like Andraste, arms open to greet all. He never looked at it for long, since Andraste should never be shirtless, but he couldn't help sneaking a look or a quick touch of the bust every now and then.
Whatever the reason, he always remembered seeing that staff with a sense of doom, like his world was being turned into another tale where he no longer mattered. Where his life with Mother, Bethany, and Father, despite his actions, were going to vanish leaving him alone in that cellar connected to Darktown where he would live out the rest of his days.
He rounded the corner, finding his sword wrapped up in cheap, sturdy cloth. He also spotted a large shadow in a corner fumbling and moving with erratic behavior. He went still in shock, thinking he came across something he wasn't suppose to see and wished to know more.
A small humming sound slowly filtered into the air, pushing away the shadows of sleep in the early morning. Fingers threading through hair and slowly scraping his scalp roused Carver to open his eyes. His entire vision was met with an expanse of pink areola, erect nipple and huge peach-colored breasts expanding and contracting with breath underneath his head.
"I went further this time tonight." It was a blunt statement that spoke of a routine, yet there was something new in the statement. "There was a shadow I stumbled upon that was large in mass and shapeless. Couldn't make out the rest."
"Perhaps, Sera Carver, it must be all the stress getting to you concerning your new business venture." The voice was rather sweet with its Fereldan accent; it suited these rare moments of rest for Carver. "I've noticed you've been buying my services more often. I'm afraid my other clients will be rather angry with you."
A large callous hand moves to caress the underside of her breast, earning a low rumble gasp. A thumb rubs around a nipple sending shivers down the woman's spine as Carver moves his head to press his lips on soft skin."Well, by all means my gold should be spent on you to make sure you're paid well. Maker knows if anyone from Fereldan deserves it, it's you Peaches."
"Sera Carver, you are acting too nice this morning," His tongue glides down her stomach at the apex of her thighs. "Mmmm, and far too attentive when I'm already worn out form last night. Won't you be late with your investor?"
Carver moved the sheets, looking back at Peaches' face with playful eyes, not breaking contact. He snaked out a tongue that flicked up to savor her taste. Peaches reached out a hand that gripped Carver's hair, pushing his face further and letting his mouth openly kiss and dive into her heat.
Peaches could feel that slow burn building with each wet flick inside her folds from the assault of his tongue. What happened next was natural as Carver moved toward his back, pulling Peaches with him, until she was on top his face. She rode his mouth like a shameless rider, grabbing her breasts from the high that was building up. She closed her eyes, feeling his teeth lightly tug on her pearl, knowing he was going to make her come closer than anticipated.
Peaches didn't know how right she was as her spine went ramrod straight and her pussy quaked with pleasure. It felt too good as she laid back on the bed glowing in the aftermath that she noticed, out the corner of one eye, that Carver was dressing himself.
"You usually make sure to fuck me like a Mabari in heat after that." Her voice was still weak from screaming but her tone was curious.
"It's nothing. I just want to make sure I don't over exert myself this morning since I'm meeting with Bartrand. That man just sucks the mental fortitude out of anyone who talks with him." Carver pulled on his boots, making sure they were buckled in right before moving to smooth out his pants and hunt down his shirt. "If anything, I can implore him to sign me up as partner to reap the rewards from this venture. Maybe I might end up richer to pay for your services till the next Age begins."
Peaches gave a sarcastic smile at the idea, knowing where this was leading. She knew she wasn't wife material since she worked at the Blooming Rose, then again this was her only option of work to pay for her family since barely escaping Lothering and the Blight. Still, as much as it shamed her knowing she had to pay with her body, it was the Maker's intervention that she had became Carver's mistress.
"Last I checked prostitutes make horrible wives, seeing as your neighbors will think I'll do nothing but throw orgies every night and teach our children to be whores." She chuckled at the idea, thinking back to that ridiculous book she read a few hours prior to his visit. "If anything, I'd be more suitable as a farmer's wife since I used to be more familiar with tending to fields and milking cows."
"I see you haven't lost that ability to milk a man to completion." Carver smirked rather mischievously leaning down to suckle, more so like engulf, a breast into his mouth. He let his lips meander over the skin before slowly pulling back with a nipple caught between his teeth. "For good luck then to ensure you'll have a big farm to till your gardens."
Peaches slapped Carver playfully on the ass for that subtle joke, wrapping the sheets around her. She waved back at Carver who left waving goodbye. It was a nice gesture on his part to ensure he would care for her, but he wasn't the only client who would say such things to her. She sat up, walking over to her dresser and looking into the mirror. She would have to take care of those love bites on her shoulder and breasts, or else it would give the other clients an awful idea for future play.
She applied foundation over her skin, making sure none of it was wasted since it cost her last week's tips to buy it off Grace at a discount. Still, her beauty was only superficial and no matter how much make up she added on, she still only ended up washing her face and reapplying it again. The thought was somber when reading between the lines but it was mostly the truth. Peaches was glad it was her off day, and decided it was best to spend time with her mother and go over their savings for a planned trip.
Hightown was bustling with activity per usual as Carver exited the Blooming Rose, ignoring the merchants still setting up shop. It wasn't surprising to them to see him exit the place like so many of the noblemen or clients; however it was surprising to see him out just when the sun was rising and not out in the late afternoon. Granted today was a day he did not want to fuck up when dealing with Bartrand over his future earnings, Carver was part of the illustrious Amell family and was on the cusp of earning his own finances that would lead him to a cushy life. However, after the death of Bethany his mother was slowly turning more reclusive at home and more controlling. He had suspected that it was only grief taking up manifestation, yet grief can only go so far before you end up controlling a man's life.
That was probably why he was staying more and more nights with Peaches, escaping his mother's burdening control so that he could feel free. This left him perturbed on some days until he experienced an rather embarrassing shouting match with his mother over a limited withdrawal with his bank.
That was the last straw for his pride and his way of finally gaining some control over his life. He made it clear that there was line he wouldn't let his mother cross. It was bad enough when she divorced father in an act of justice, but this fear of losing her only child was suffocating him at times that he slowly began feeding the urge to take care of his own affairs.
The Chantry bells chimed, marking the ninth hour of the day as the usual crowd of high born dwellers and their servants began their usual daily routines. Carver paid them no mind as he went to his usual restaurant, feeling rather hungry from last night's work out. He entered just as the concierge showed him to his table and prepared for his meal.
There was no need to tell the waiter what he wanted to order, since the staff knew by heart what he liked due to his frequent dining with his mother at the place. They made sure to get his meal ready as sson as possible. It wasn't news to the gossip circle that he was having a spat with his mother; however, they did value the sovereigns he paid if it meant feeding him before she entered.
The smell of eggs being cooked and mixed with the fresh summer vegetables was an intoxicating smell along with the morning mimosa that was brought to his table. Carver ate rather fast into his meal, feeling invigorated from the hot juices running down his throat. He went over in his head the day's events of what was needed. Bartrand was sure to be up until noon after another drinking party to find a partner in Hightown. Granted Carver was there buying rounds to try and get the Dwarf drunk into a deal that catered him.
The keyword was try, since it was a first-hand lesson at learning. Dwarves are more resilient to their cups when it comes to inebriation, something Carver would have to take into account on his own since Varric was oddly acting more like a responsible, sort-of, uncle to him than his uncle Gamlen. Of course Varric would demand to be entitled as the story telling, attention-seeking, debonair rogue with godly chest hair with the crossbow with a heart of gold. That almost made Carver choke on his last bite, laughing at the thought of Varric getting all uppity on him.
"Sera, was the meal alright with your taste buds today?" The waiter was asking rather nicely, seeing as they were new. "I saw you have difficulty eating now and I can go admonish the cook if you like."
"No, there is no need for that." Carver chuckled handing the man twenty silver for his troubles. "I was just thinking of something rather humorous that occurred last night. Nothing really to trouble you. Just inform the cook that breakfast was great as usual."
"Thank you, Sera Amell. We here at the Gilded Hummingbird do appreciate your patronage dining here. Do have a pleasant day."
Carver ignored the usual simpering from the man walking out without looking in his general direction.
The sound of heavy breathing was being strained as a mouth enclosed over shoulder and the smell of sex was creeping into the air in the alley. Hawke tried to keep mind in a pleasant place as she gripped the wall, ignoring the wetness that was forced by lubricate for this impromptu moment. Douglas, on the other hand, could care less since he was in pure bliss, thrusting away from behind. Getting a good grip on her hips, he humped away like a madman as he chased after his end. He felt like this was the last taste of heaven he'd ever enjoy, while Hawke felt like she was escaping this purgatory. She shifted her back and tightened her inner muscles in an effort to milk him faster and reach the fever orgasm he couldn't grasp for the last five minutes.
It was at that moment he stopped mid thrust, pulling out slow before going back in hard. Douglas emitted a shudder as his hand moved to envelope Hawke in a warm embrace. Something that she felt no warmth or any loving familiarity for.
"I'm sure you would like this to be over, but I can assure you, I will miss you greatly, little bird. For more than just your tight cunt." His breath ran over her ear, leaving Hawke to tighten her vaginal muscles, as he pinched her clitoris. "So give me this last fleeting pleasure, as my personal goodbye to you."
Hawke wasn't a fool to know what Douglas meant by those words, since he became more erratic and clingy during sex. The year spent training under Douglas was good in keeping up her physical condition as well as her spellwork with Owen; however, Hawke would have felt better to squash the rumor mills in the Red Irons. Some were saying she was a top paying whore bought by those two for a year and they were just humoring her with all this 'needless' practice. Despite Douglas letting his fists scare off the gossip mongers, it did little to elevate Hawke's feelings that she was nothing more than a private mistress. Thankfully her year was up and Douglas was putting her on the more dangerous travels under Meeran's orders.
This was a source of conflicting paranoia for Hawke since Meeran, on the few times she met him making inspections, tried to let on he was taking care of her with no strings attached. This thought shifted over the months that perhaps Douglas and Owen were acting out of bounds on something that was only for the leader. Or perhaps something else was amiss that kept her in the dark.
Several deep grunts echoed in the alley before Douglas finally emptied himself inside Hawke with a euphoric smile on his face. Hawke, however for lack of better words, gave him an elbow to the ribs while using a rag to clean herself up.
"Would it have killed you to come on the damn streets?" She whispered harshly while fixing her leggings. "I mean, Maker forbid I get accidentally pregnant by your damn urges to 'seal the deal'."
Douglas coughed up a wheezing laugh to ignore the pain. "Don't admit you didn't like it. Last I remembered you gave quite the effort last time I came inside your sweet hole, Hawke. Practically made the afterglow that much more enjoyable."
She ignored the lecherous tones from Douglas along with the deep seated anger of hearing that name uttered from his mouth while fixing her clothes. "That was due to Owen supplying me with the fail safe should you get more than affectionate than necessary. Besides, this is our last day and I for one would like to spend time with Owen since he promised me to show me hiding spots for apostates in this part of Kirkwall."
"Hmm. Perhaps I should join as well. You never know when ex-Templar info is also helpful in these situations." He placed a hand on Hawke's hip earning a small growl from her. "Or maybe we can look for a friendly place to stay until you find a steady job to replace Meeran?"
"Douglas," Hawke slapped his hand. "It's been a year and our deal is over. Stop it or I will do something not worth regret."
Douglas knew from her tone that she meant it and took his hand away from her. The year he spent training her was a liberating feeling for him. He had always dreamed of mentoring a person in the ways of a warrior, something that was left for dead during his years as a Templar. However, he knew there would be some complicated political reasons to arming an apostate to hide themselves in plain sight, let alone gain a foothold of training over spells they had no tutelage in. Douglas was grateful to have Owen to tutor the woman, with her frightening learning curve, but he couldn't help feeling perturbed at how she would easily move to use the nearest weapon than magic to aide in battle. A small part of him was ever thankful Hawke seemed more natural in the non-combative magical arts.
A small smile emerged on his face before he walked down the alley. "Right, I'll just treat us to breakfast as our final meal together. Can't say goodbye without a full stomach."
"And an excuse to have me rub your belly when you over eat." Hawke muttered walking ahead rounding the corner.
She didn't slow down for Douglas' quip, only moving forward to Elegant's stall to gain distance between them since the morning of her last day in service was ending so well. She spotted Lady at the stairwell, perking her head up in acknowledgment, before trotting over at the side.
Hawke felt a variety of questions she had for Lady were slowly answered on the wolf's intelligence, as it became severely agitated whenever Douglas entered their tent. Or when he pulled her aside for those quick trysts behind a tree or alley. Hawke knew Lady was restraining herself from attacking the man, for using her, but it was nice to know someone cared about her situation. If anything, it only made Hawke feel assured that Lady was more Mabari than wolf, listening to Hawke talk and take a risking saying her real name before it vanished.
The lull of the morning was rising with the sun as Lowtown was filled with those shopping in the early light of morning. Elegant was in proud form, showing off her potions as the usual mill of Lowtowners who could barely afford her wares, along with the servants venturing out to grab a good deal. Elegant was a woman of good business, but also the next best thing to a rumormonger.
Hawke rounded up to the stall slamming her coin on the counter."Good morning Elegant. I hope you have the usual today?"
"Why Hawke, it's so nice to see you back in Kirkwall again. Your name has been popping up lately with the Red Irons exploits. I was almost afraid you let all that traveling get to your head. While you were away I've recently married and became Lady Elegant now."
"That's nice to hear, since you prattled my ear off about the man courting you this past winter." Elegant could barely hide the smug grin on her face, and ring on her hand, as she handed Hawke a healing poultice and green potion. "I take it the wedding was worth it?"
"It most certainly was, is and currently the best Lowtown has seen. In fact we managed to have two receptions that would have seemed bland to Hightown." Elegant smiled at the memory twisting her finger around her ring.
Hawke wasn't one to talk of weddings ever since the debacle that happened in the Alienage. Thankfully the passage of time helped eased that scar for a bit. "Well, I fear I will have to leave you Elegant, I'm late for a meeting. C'mon Lady."
"Maybe later I will invite you to dinner Hawke, we can go over the details." Elegant shouted before turning back to her customers.
Hawke ventured over the stairs taking a quick swig of the unmarked potion, shuddering at the taste, before draining the contents in one go. She hated how contraceptives were produced in Kirkwall and how they couldn't make it in a easier form to ingest. Yet, it worked wonders right after said deed was done. Hawke wasn't one to hate sex, let alone with a shemlen, but that was her choice in the deal.
The change in atmosphere was pleasant on her mind as the smell of honey and summer fruits were on sell gathering attention from hungry eyes. They looked succulent and rather tasty to combat the oncoming heat, but Hawke knew better than to waste money on such luxuries. Hightown was a luxury she would never fit into, whether she be a foreigner or Lowtown inhabitant. In fact she felt more like an Alienage dweller.
Still, it was nice to fancy the idea of living in Hightown, milling about with the Lords and Ladies, gossiping about something other than Mister Fluffles taking a weird shit on the new Orlesian carpet.
"Stupid Knife-ear, this is pure silk! Do you know how hard the stains will come out?" A shrill voice was heard off the side making Hawke rethinking about her fantasy.
It was better to venture here than to think of another convenient lie to tell Douglas about why she was not meeting with Owen. The simple answer would be to say she wanted to venture up and check the wares. This, of course, would cover up two lies. The first lie being she knew where to hide in Kirkwall from both Athenril and the Templars since Owen was great in helping her hide mana, and the second lie would cover the news of the Blight ending in Fereldan in less than a year, earning others to think it was a huge conspiracy. Others spoke ofabout an expedition a certain Dwarf was trying to put together for unexplored riches. Hopefully, Worthy would have the details that she needed since he sometimes heard it through the vine about the Merchants guild.
It wasn't like she had any other sources to go by.