a/n: Are you ready for something so cute you'll puke?! I know I sure am! :D
I had a lot of fun with this chapter, because of how Hawke gets when she's nervous. Well, how headcanon says she gets when she's nervous. Because in-game, she's pretty stupid confident, isn't she? Like, about everything. It's like she knows she's the protagonist or something. Anyway, make up a story that Hawke just finished telling as this chapter opens. Because I have an idea in my head, but I'm sure you can come up with something much more entertaining.
t h r e. e
The Light shall lead her safely
Through the paths of this world, and into the next.
Transfigurations 10:1
"And then!" Hawke exclaimed as they slowed their pace on an empty stretch of the battlements. "Then, the children come running through the market, chased by two elves in jesters' clothes!" She couldn't stop from laughing; Cullen, too, was unable to keep his amusement silent. "Aveline," Hawke started after a moment, catching her breath, "Aveline burst through my front door that evening, demanding to know who the elves were, and how I had convinced two dozen children to play along so convincingly."
"How did you manage that?" Cullen asked as she leaned forward against the low stone wall. "It seems like it would have been quite the challenge."
"A magician never reveals her tricks," Hawke told him with a grin and a wink. "That was probably the most fun I had in Kirkwall," she continued with a nostalgic kind of sigh. "No wait, I take that back; honestly, I had quite a bit of fun any time I was messing with Aveline."
Cullen chuckled. "I can imagine. And yet, all traces of those incidents are quite absent from Varric's book."
Hawke smiled a bit mischievously. "Oh? You read it, then?"
"I, er- y-yes, I did," Cullen admitted sheepishly. "A handful of copies were passed around the remaining Templars in Kirkwall with great interest. I… wanted to see what the fuss was about."
"Oh, don't be ashamed. At this point, who hasn't read that book of his? Though, I kept telling Varric that the story would be so much more interesting if he left in the parts about me playing pranks on the City Guard, or all the times Merrill and I entertained the Alienage, or that time Fenris and I replaced a shipment of slaves with mabari. The looks on those slavers' faces! But Varric insisted that those stories were for another book."
"I thought the story was quite interesting as is," Cullen told her.
"It certainly had all the makings of a great epic, or so Varric says," Hawke offered with a shrug, glancing out over the nearly-empty courtyard, bathed in the last rays of sunlight that would make it over the mountains. "A refugee rising to power, losing her family, falling in love; a Champion at the center of intriguing plots, starting the mage rebellion, having her heart broken." She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. "I read the book at a friend's insistence, and I admit, I hardly recognize myself in it."
"Was it exaggerated?" Cullen guessed, earning a giggle. "Varric does love his extravagant lies."
"Actually," she told him, turning to lean back against the wall to face him, "our favorite dwarf lied very little in his retelling of Kirkwall's downfall. I can't say I blame him; it already sounds far too fantastical to be real. Any additional exaggeration would have made it entirely unbelievable."
Cullen agreed with a slight chuckle. They lapsed into silence for a long moment. Hawke watched him as he glanced out over the courtyard as well; she could see words forming in his mind, but they seemed to dissipate before they reached his lips.
"Is it a question?" she asked eventually. "Everyone always has questions for me."
He looked up at her. Hawke was smiling easily back at him. "Perhaps it's not my place to ask," he said.
Hawke smirked with a light laugh. "Oh, don't let that stop you. Everyone has something to ask, regardless of 'their place'. Are you wondering about the Arishok? That's a popular question, but Varric tells that story much better than I do. Ooh, or about the Deep Roads? I hear there was a lot of confusion about what happened there. Ah, no; you would want to know why I chose to support the mages over the Templars, even while I supported a Chantry-sanctioned Circle? That's a complicated matter that has to do with my experiences with other apostates and the things Father taught me about magic."
"No," Cullen said. He looked troubled. "No, I… I can understand why you would support a Circle even while you supported the mages."
"Oh." Hawke looked surprised. "Really? I don't hear that very often. But… you do have a question."
"Yes," he said slowly. "But-"
"No buts. I'm sure it won't be the worst thing I've been asked. One person actually tried asking me why I didn't have Isabela executed!" She scoffed with a chuckle. "It was as though he had no sense of how much I despise death. But." She looked up at Cullen again. "My point is, whatever your question is, feel free to ask."
He sighed. Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it. "I wondered about… about Anders."
"Oh!" Hawke waved the matter away with an airy, dismissive laugh. "Of course. Everyone wonders about Anders. And the answer is no, I honestly had no idea what he had been planning. Trust me, if I did…. Well, let's just say things would have gone very differently that night."
"No, I meant-" Cullen looked up at her with a slight wince; he didn't want to ask the question, but she seemed determined to pull it out of him. "I meant that I wondered about Anders… and you."
"Oh," she said in a distinctly more tense tone, a look of faint surprise crawling across her face. "I… see."
"Like I said, it isn't my place," Cullen said quickly. "I'm sorry; forget I said anything."
"No, no," Hawke said, shaking her head slightly. "No, it's… it's fine." Cullen watched her as she avoided his gaze, brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes, and glanced over the courtyard again without seeing it. "That's just… not what I had been expecting." He waited for her to work out whatever thoughts he imagined were tumbling through her mind. "I… haven't…. Hmm. I don't know entirely what to say, honestly. Anders and I were… well, we… hm."
"Were you… happy?" Cullen asked carefully.
"Happy?" Surprisingly, Hawke laughed; it was a cheerless kind of laughter, perhaps a little bitter, but signified her amusement with the implication nonetheless. "Maker, no. As much as I'd like to delude myself into believing otherwise, aside from those first few weeks, I don't think there was ever really a time when he and I were… happy. Together, anyway. We found happiness in other things: me, in my friends and mischief-making; Anders, in his cause to help the refugees. But there was always this… this space between us. When he and I…" She sighed, rubbing her head. Cullen wanted to break in, to tell her that she didn't have to continue, but he suspected that no one had ever offered her the chance to talk about these things, except Varric. And while he knew that Varric had likely pulled all of this out of her already, he also knew that this was one of those things that Hawke should be allowed to talk about it in her own time. "When we were together," she continued, looking everywhere but the man in front of her, "it was as though the world was about to end, in so many ways. We would comfort each other like children hiding from an imaginary monster. We would tell each other 'I love you' as though that was enough to delay an apocalypse. We would smile and laugh, but it was nothing more than lies to each other, and ourselves."
"Then why-" Cullen began, but stopped himself when he realized he hadn't actually considered his words before he opened his mouth. The question was an inappropriate one, and one that Hawke did not need to be asked.
But Hawke smiled slightly, knowingly. "Why was I with him?" she guessed, correctly. "That's the natural response, of course. And… well." She chuckled awkwardly, rubbing her neck and glancing up at the darkening sky. "There were a few very good reasons, and a few …not so good ones."
"What were the good ones?" Cullen asked curiously.
"Well," Hawke began, adjusting her position against the wall, crossing her legs and leaning back on her arms to watch the sky and continue avoiding eye contact, "if the world was truly going to end - which, let's face it, it might as well have - I think we both wanted someone to share it with. I know that I, at least, wanted to believe that there was someone at my side if I ever had to face down Oblivion."
"I suppose I can understand that," Cullen agreed. "Then… if you don't mind my asking, what were the …not so good reasons?"
Hawke smiled to herself, then finally looked back at Cullen. "You'll have to forgive me if I'd prefer not to say."
"Ah," he agreed. "That's fair. I apologize; it's not my place to make you admit to poor judgement."
Instead of dropping it, Hawke giggled behind her hand. "Oh, no, Commander, nothing like that," she insisted, a playful look in her eyes. "It's just not polite for a lady to say such things in front of a man."
Cullen felt his brow furrow, and he tried to figure out what she might have meant. A few ideas occurred to him, but none that he was willing to suggest. Surely… surely it was something else. He couldn't imagine that this woman had justified - from his understanding - a painful relationship just for a physical attraction.
"Have you ever been in love?" Hawke broke through his musing. She was still smiling at him. "If you ever were, you might understand what desperation can do for what would otherwise be a failing relationship."
No, he had been right; her "not so good" reasons revolved around physical intimacy. "Hawke-"
She laughed, effectively cutting him off. "By the Maker, this is an inappropriate topic of conversation we're venturing into," she exclaimed. "I wouldn't want to make you blush. I apologize, Commander; we can talk about something else."
But his curiosity was piqued. This was a side of Hawke that he had never imagined seeing, and it was difficult to leave unexplored territory. Curiosity was a cruel mistress. "Make me blush?" he said, more to himself. "Now I'm worried what I might have gotten into."
"So far," Hawke said, giving him a playful smirk, "I don't think you've gotten into much of anything. Was it your intention to…" she had to stop to giggle again behind her hand before continuing with a grin, "to… 'get into' something?"
"What?" It took a moment before the implication of her words sunk in, and Cullen looked aghast. "Maker's breath-" Hawke laughed again, and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "I assure you, I had no such intentions when I agreed to join you for a walk."
"Oh?" The smile - or smirk, Cullen couldn't decide - that curled her lips seeped into every word that left them. "That's truly a shame, Cullen. Such intentions would have been… happily considered." She straightened up, taking a few steps closer to him. "But, Commander," she continued, her voice lower, becoming almost alluring, "I think I have kept you from your duties for long enough."
"I-it was…" Reflexively, he had started to say that it had been a pleasure to spend the time with her, that it was a welcome reprieve from his duties, but Hawke took another step closer. Her hands were behind her back, and she was smiling/smirking up at him with a very playful glint in her eyes. "Hm," he hummed, almost wondering why he hadn't taken a step back yet. She was making him very slightly apprehensive, standing so close. While she was making it quite clear what her intentions were, Cullen still couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking things through. He could definitely recall a few memories from Kirkwall where things went very badly, and the Templars - or city guard - had found this woman standing over the mess, shrugging blithely and saying, "Well, what can you do." Clearly, she was not one for the big picture, and tended to think in the short term only. Which had worked out for her thus far - evidenced mostly by the fact that she was not dead - but the lack of foresight had to have taken its toll on her. Yet here she was, strolling into what could be another mess without regard for the consequences. "Hawke…"
"Yes, Cullen?" she asked.
He couldn't decide what he wanted from her. He knew that she had been through quite a bit- "quite a bit". That was putting it mildly. She would have been better off facing the Blight back in Lothering than what she had gone through in Kirkwall. She had experienced enough to break a stronger woman, and yet here she stood, flirting with him, as though her history with Anders meant nothing. He couldn't just ignore that like she obviously could. She was attractive and charming, smart and witty; he was not entirely opposed to her intentions. But he wouldn't feel comfortable with proceeding until the obvious was talked about. "Did you love him?" he asked before he could ponder the question too much further.
"Did I-?" Hawke took an almost unexpected step back, eyebrows lowering in consternation. The question startled her. "Did I love him?" She looked down at the stone under their feet, as though the shattered remains of what had been a light-hearted conversation there might let her see where the question had come from so suddenly. She looked back up at him. "…Anders?"
"Yes."
"Hm." Hawke looked as though she was trying to decide whether to laugh or frown as various emotions flashed in her eyes. Amused and confused, she half-turned away as she considered the question. "Did I love him…" she mused under her breath, to herself. What a question to be asked! And yet, it had stopped her in her tracks and was forcing her to think on things she had done her utmost to bury in a dark, forgotten corner of her mind. "Why?" She looked back at Cullen with a questioning sort of smile. "Why would you ask that?" Her question wasn't accusatory, but Cullen felt that it should have been. He really had no place to ask that, he realized.
But he had; there was no taking it back. And it was something that needed to be discussed if she really intended on continuing down this blind path of whatever she was trying to do. Flirt. Seduce. Court. Cullen doubted she even knew. "Because you weren't… well, he couldn't make you happy," he said, earning a surprised "huh!" as Hawke's eyebrows shot up into her bangs. "And if you weren't happy…. Did you love him?"
"I…" It was becoming more and more clear that no one had actually asked her this question outright before. Her difficulty in answering, at the very least, indicated that she had her own doubts about the topic. "I… did…" she said very slowly, almost as though she didn't trust her own words. "Yes… I did," she said, a little firmer. "But… I don't see how that's entirely …relevant," she finished.
Cullen sighed; it was a very relevant question, he thought. "Because you've been hurt," he said gently. "Many times. And I suspect that Anders is the cause of more scars that you're willing to admit."
Hawke chuckled, bitterly. "That is unfortunately true, yes," she muttered. "So, you won't …hm. You won't humor me because I'm… I'm scarred?" she asked, words sharper than she had intended.
"On the contrary," Cullen said quickly; he hadn't meant to imply that at all, merely that she needed to consider the repercussions, "I think those scars are all the more reason that you should be… crudely put, but as you said, 'humored'. But not before they're acknowledged." He took a step towards her now, reaching out to put a hand lightly on her arm. "You've been hurt, Hawke; you can't just ignore that."
"We've all been hurt," she countered, failing entirely to meet his eyes. "But wounds heal. And I'm sure you'll understand that I'm not entirely ready to reopen the deeper ones."
"Of course," Cullen agreed softly. "Hawke." He reached up to touch her cheek, turning her back to face him. "For what it's worth, if you need someone to talk to-"
"No," she cut him off. She frowned, and reached up to put her hand over his. "Don't say that. I don't want your pity, and you don't deserve my burdens." She sounded like she was trying to reject him, but when she looked up at him, her eyes were pleading. "I want to believe that if I don't acknowledge it, it'll go away, like a bad dream."
Perhaps, then, she had thought these things through. She was, however, only avoiding things that needed to be faced head-on. "You know that's not the case."
Hawke sighed, leaning into his hand. "I know," she said. "Cullen, I won't do this," she continued in almost a whisper. "I won't drag you down with me. That's all that can possibly come from you trying to 'help' me. I don't need help. I need… I want to escape from the pain, not face it. For once-" She chuckled, closing her eyes. "For once, I mistakenly hoped that maybe, just maybe, something could be simple."
Cullen stifled a sigh. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was better for her, for now, to avoid the topic entirely. There would be a day when she would indeed need to face it and acknowledge it, hopefully even accept it. But maybe, just maybe, she was right in that today didn't have to be that day. "Hawke," he said, leaning forward, running his thumb over the fading scar on her cheek, "You've been alone for too long. I'd like to be here for you, and if all you need for now is an escape…"
"It's not fair of me to ask that of you," she said.
"I offer it willingly."
"I don't want you to think I'm some broken… thing."
"I won't."
"I'd really rather if you could just continue seeing me as that hero in Varric's book."
"I always will."
"I don't… I…" Her arguments were falling apart, they both knew. "Cullen, I… I just want…" She sighed, and leaned closer. Then chuckled lightly. "Actually, if I'm honest," she breathed against his lips, "I don't know what I want anymore. But I think you'll do nicely." She tilted her head slightly, and kissed him, softly. It was a question, but not for him. Some semblance of an answer must have come to her, because all at once, she pulled closer with an almost inaudible moan, reaching up to hold his face in both her hands as she kissed him deeper. Desperate. Cullen held her close, held her gently, and kissed her back with certainty that whatever was going to happen, she was safe. Safe from the world, safe from her past. Safe from herself.
Slowly, deliberately but tenderly, she broke away. Her cheeks were red, and her hands hesitant on his cheeks. She smiled, chuckling under her breath. "Cullen," she said, voice breathy.
"Yes?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her again.
"I'm supposed to meet Varric and Alice for drinks."
He stopped. Cullen pulled back slightly to see her face. She was all smiles, and the pain that had begun to creep into her eyes earlier was entirely gone. "I'm sorry?" he asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.
"Drinks," she repeated. "Varric said that Alice wanted to ask about the pranks I used to pull, and I'm supposed to meet them for drinks so we can talk." When Cullen failed entirely to express any understanding about why she was mentioning this, she laughed again. "I'm sorry; I know that sounds out of place. But…
"Okay, look: twenty minutes ago, I would have had no problem telling you that I was going to meet them for drinks and cheerfully bidding you 'good day' as I left to meet them," she explained. "But now, here, like this- I knew I was going to have to leave you soon to meet them. I didn't think it would be difficult, but it is, because you're holding me, and you kissed me, and that's actually exactly what I wanted, but it's harder to think when you're so- so- mm, no." She cut herself off abruptly, and leaned up to kiss him again, but short and quick. "When you look like that," she continued, "I don't want to leave, and I laughed because you look like that and it makes me want to kiss you again."
"Look like… like… what?" he asked, still trying to grasp what she was talking about.
"All hot and bothered," she said simply. "You look harried, like someone caught you on your way out of the bath and started asking you about the weather. It's like you know exactly what you want to do, but you can't, because you're being talked at." Hawke smiled. "Sorry, I talk when I get nervous."
"You're nervous?" he repeated with a slight smile. "Why?"
"Because you're a Templar?" she said teasingly.
"Really?" he asked, taken aback.
"No, of course not," she said cheerfully with another giggle. "I'm nervous because I want to see what it is that you want to do when someone's not talking at you," she told him. "Because I think it's exactly what I want to do, too. But I can't, because I have to meet Varric and Alice for drinks. And I'm nervous that if I leave you like this, I won't ever get to find out what that thing is that you want to do."
"Oh," he said, chuckling. "Oh, Hawke, you shouldn't worry about that. Trust me, if we can find the time later, I will be more than happy to show you what it is that I want to do."
She laughed. "Oh, good. Good, that's definitely what I wanted to hear. Because I need to meet Varric and Alice for drinks-"
"You've said that," he noted, amused.
"I have, yes," she agreed. She was giddy, smiling a little too wide and giggling a little too much. "I have said that because I'm going to meet them for drinks and they're going to ask why I'm late, and I won't get to tell them, because I can't admit that I'm trying to seduce their Commander."
Cullen chuckled, and leaned forward to kiss her again. "Then it sounds like you should get going before they get too suspicious. Don't worry," he assured her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as they broke apart, "you'll still have plenty of chances to try to seduce me."
"Ha! Perfect. Well then, Commander," she said playfully. "I will see you around."
"I look forward to it," he agreed with a smile.
