She blinked awake at the feel of sunlight and squinted as it hit her bleary eyes head on, creating an explosion of every colour in the spectrum behind her eyes. She stretched herself under the warm fur coverlet, yawning like a cat. Pure, unfiltered sunlight was hard to come by in the Lowtown slums where she used to live, and sometimes she would venture out into the marketplace, isolating herself from the endless crowds of haggling shoppers, finding that particular spot where sunshine would creep between a hollow in the sandstone blocks and stand there, letting the sunlight warm her face and fuel her imaginings of ascending into Hightown with a mansion of her own. Sometimes, Bethany would accompany her, twining her slim fingers in her own as if that link between their bodies would convey thoughts without them ever being said. Now that she thought about the scene, it occurred to her that the scene never really was complete without her sister by her side, sharing in the radiant gift from the sun.
Her eyes adjusted to the bright rays in no time, but she made it a point to remember the feeling. A feeling most took for granted.
Bethany.
The name tolled in her like a bell, reminding her of the words she had had with her mother the night before. She started to push the coverlet down her body, then paused abruptly as she remembered the last words Leandra said to her before she slipped out of the door.
"That healer, Anders, placed a spell over you to keep you from dragging yourself out of bed too early. He said you needed the rest."
"A spell, I see." Clarissa murmured to herself, assessing her options. Her limbs, after three straight days of rest and recuperation, were once again fully under her command, with the bulk of her strength at her disposal. She deemed herself fit for discharge.
"Can't break through what's tailor-made to drain me just by trying to break through…" she mused, letting spoken word put her into perspective and into her thinking shoes. An idea came to her almost instantly, making her giddy for its potential but wary of its consequences at the same time.
She closed her physical eyes, letting the one within her mind spring open. A mass of jumbled thoughts greeted her, taking the form of sparkling, dazzling colours and discontinued images that, should she focus on them closely, would have formed a cohesive shard of her memories. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and bid her chaotic thoughts tranquility, smiling to herself when she felt serenity wash over her mind. Then, she dug deeper, brushing past errant thoughts that suggested a more forceful approach to her problem.
She found it in no time whatsoever, being guided by the memory of the Dalish Keeper, Marethari and her voyage into her thoughts. She felt her mind collapse upon itself, her thoughts coming full circle as she beheld the magnificent spectacle of a hawk, larger than life but just as strong. It stared at her with piercing eyes, its spread wings and poised talons calling to her, awaiting her embrace of the power hidden within her blood. She silently nodded her assent.
The hawk took flight, gliding on intangible air, soaring on untouchable wind and alighting on her shoulder without pause or hesitation.
Her eyes flared as liquid fire suffused her blood, replacing brute physical strength with raw magical power. All at once, she felt the mana in the air, the magic radiating from her sword and bracer, which she now saw had been stored within the wardrobe at the side of the room and, most of all, the tentative but omnipresent tendons of magic that permeated and constituted everything she saw, smelled, heard and felt.
She focused her newfound power on herself and saw the ethereal manacles Anders had placed on her to prevent her disobedient escape. In her mind's eye, it looked akin to physical manacles clamped onto her wrists, though they gleamed with an unworldly light that would have been gone unnoticed by people not attuned to its nature.
Easy.
She willed the manacles release, feeling them snap apart like a string stretched impossibly taut. She raised her hands into the air experimentally, feeling no sudden plummet of her strength. She added the other and then, satisfied that the spell had been broken and secretly pleased that she had done so with so little effort, sat up, grunting as she heard her bones crack from their time in inactivity.
She gasped when an obscenely large mass of fur, wagging tails and ears and slobbering tongue leapt from the side of the bed and landed squarely on stomach, pinning her back onto the mattress as her Mabari hound, Buffy, assailed her with long, sweeping licks and sharp, playful nips.
"I missed you too, Buffy- Hey, okay! Okay!" she giggled as Buffy ran his moist tongue from chin to forehead, an act he knew to disarm every man, woman and child he could ever come across.
"You've gotten fat, Buff! Has mother been feeding you more than you were supposed to get?" Clarissa asked, knowing that he, to some extent, understood her.
Buffy barked twice, loudly and happily, a mischievous and slightly guilty glint in his puppy-dog eyes betraying him. That was something she had, and still loved about him – His eyes never lost their childishness, ever after he had turned ten years old already.
"How'd you do it? Relentless assault or pouting beg?"
His eyes grew as wide as saucers and the joy in them was replaced with mock craving. That was something else she loved – He never grew out of his tricks, especially the ones she had taught him.
"That's my boy." Clarissa said, scratching him behind his ears, making him whine and lie flat on her stomach, panting contentedly.
"I do hope you haven't been doing this to Mother every day while I was gone." Clarissa huffed, pushing the weighty Mabari off of her flat stomach, which was starting to hurt from his immense weight. She landed feet on the ground and stood, pleased to find that her soles did not wobble after lying in bed for three days. She opened the wardrobe and slipped on a loose-fitting tunic that felt warm like cotton but soft and crisp as silk. She tied a sash around her waist to keep the light garment from flying free, then tugged on an equally lightweight skirt. The floor was, to the unwary eye, essentially a carpet, and as such Clarissa deemed footwear to be unnecessary. Turning round, she saw Buffy curled up at the side of the bed, unmoving save for his persistent panting.
"Giving me the silent treatment, are you?" Clarissa wagged a finger at the motionless lump of dog at her feet. She lightly stomped on the short, quivering tail of the Mabari, eliciting an exaggerated yip from the hound and making him roll over, flailing his stubby legs in the air as if in pain.
"Confess!" Clarissa exclaimed, keeping her voice down so as to not wake Leandra.
Buffy whined nonchalantly and shot her a look that said, "Maybe just every other day."
She chuckled, then tickled the sensitive skin on his stomach, making his legs flail even more wildly and his breathing to come in what sounded like huffing giggles.
She laughed as got back on all fours and bounded towards her, a giddy, carefree expression in his puppy-dog eyes. She quickly flung open the door and escaped out onto an interior terrace that, when she leaned over the carved marble railing, gave a clear and empiric view of the main hall below. Bright sunlight streamed in from full-height windows on her left, accompanied by crisp birdsong. The blinds were curled up at the sides, and Clarissa had a clear view of the adjacent mansion, whose owner she could not quite recall.
"Now where did my armour go…?" She wondered aloud, looking to the now-obedient Mabari in askance, "do you know?"
Buffy cocked his head and whined.
"I thought as much." Clarissa ruffled the fur on his head, then descended the stairs on her right, finding a door that led to the estate's study on her way to the center of the hall where a fireplace lay dormant. Buffy struggled to keep up, his paws making for poor stair-climbers.
"Maybe it's out back somewhere." Clarissa said, turning herself full circle and surveying the walls and the ceiling above, finding the portrait of a man in regal raiment above the messenger's desk directly below the terrace.
That must be grandfather.
Just as she was about to take a closer look at the rendering of the grandparent she never met, she heard the clatter of horse's hooves on the cobblestones of Hightown's streets, which stopped right outside the front door. She crossed the boundary between the hall and the entryway, the cool granite underneath her feet making her wish she had plucked those shoes from her wardrobe.
"Lady, we can't have horses here!" called the voice of a man, most likely a guardsman.
Who would be so anxious to get to this part of town to not leave her horse at the stables? She wondered. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she flung open the door.
And felt her entire body freeze over as honey-brown eyes, framed by wavy, jet-black hair favoured her in a sideways stare.
Bethany secured her horse's reins on the hook conveniently placed at the side of the estate's front door, the shock in her eyes quickly vanishing as she composed herself. She took in the ruffled, tousled head of flame-red hair and the spotless tunic her sister wore, judging her to be well on her way in terms of recovery. She felt her insides tighten despite herself, at the sight of the one who she loved the most and hated the most all at the same time. She did not think such a complexity to be possible, but there it was. They were similarly clad, with Bethany's own white-and-blue high-collared tunic and hunting frock being geared for travel over comfort, her leather sash outdoing Clarissa's more simplistic cloth sash in its utility and her tanned, polished leather boots being travel-worn yet stately all at once.
She saw she had made Clarissa's heart stop. A part of her was immensely pleased that she was still capable of such a thing.
"I- It's alright, guardsman. We're… acquainted." Clarissa stammered, not quite able to look past Bethany's face. She had never stopped thinking about every single thing about her.
"Ah, you must be the new Lady Hawke!" the guardsman said, "well, if it's fine by you, it's fine by me."
An uneasy silence pervaded long after the guardsman strolled off on his morning rounds.
"So… May I?" Bethany asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Oh, yes, of course." Clarissa sidestepped and held the door wide as Bethany stepped through. She smelled the fragrance she left in her wake, a tingling scent of spring flowers. Was it just her, or was everything about Bethany designed to entice and seduce? In another time and place, she would have slammed the door shut, pushed Bethany against it and showed her just how much she missed her.
But not here. Not now.
They had some talking to do.
She waited, unsure of what to say as Bethany ran her eyes around the interior of the Amell estate, noting with apparent interest the Amell seal at the top of the overhead terrace.
"Lady Hawke, then, is it?" Bethany mused, "how things have changed."
Clarissa was at a loss for words.
"I thought you're still with the Wardens," she said.
"I left Delvin in charge. He seemed perfectly capable," Bethany said, "unless you don't appreciate me being back…"
"Oh, no! No! I would want nothing more…!" Clarissa exclaimed, quickly but not quickly enough in catching herself. Bethany smiled, warmth coming from the depths of her heart.
So she did miss me.
"How did you get here so soon?" Clarissa asked.
"A few spells to help me recuperate faster than I should've, and a few spells to encourage my horse to exceed his limits, after what you did." Bethany said, noting that Clarissa's own magic has not fully manifested yet. Or at least, not in the way that it was supposed to yet.
"I'm sorry, Bethany. I-" Clarissa stopped herself this time. She did have a choice with the Keeper's decision.
"You had no choice. I understand." Bethany said. She took one step towards Clarissa, then another, "it was that or both of our lives."
She cupped her hand on Clarissa's face, feeling the hairs prickle under her skin as she stiffened at her touch.
"You chose wisely," she whispered. She could hold it no longer. She inched forward.
"No, wait!" Clarissa shook herself, edging away. There was uncertainty in her voice, "I need to talk about this first."
Bethany sighed, feeling the delicious tension between them drain from them.
"Clarissa…" She began, but was cut off.
"No… You listen to me," Clarissa said, adamant.
"Yes?"
Clarissa took a deep breath, her eyes focusing on something far away as she put together her choice of words. She was ready. It was now or never.
"I was stupid." Clarissa said simply, bluntly. It actually felt good, "I was stupid and selfish and just downright dumb. I was wrong about what had changed between us; I was wrong about everything."
"Lies! Lies!" She had screamed when Seryna showed her the darkness that resided within her, solid, tangible proof that Clarissa, her one and only love, had lied to her. But at that moment, deep inside her torn heart, she knew it to be truth and what her sister had told her to be a lie.
"I thought I still needed to protect you, in every which way I could, but now…" Clarissa's voice broke, her composure shattering into a million pieces, "now that I've seen how wrong I was, now that I've paid for it by hurting both you and me… I-"
Bethany couldn't move. Her legs were rooted in place by the torrent of emotions flooding her, pity warring with anger, love battling against hate. Tears spilled from her eyes; it only seemed to push Clarissa's self-loathing even further.
"I think I know now."
"Know what?" Bethany asked softly, tentatively, her eyes pleading for the answer.
"I know that, despite every single fiber of my being wanting to hurt for you, die for you, the past three days have been the most painful of my life." Clarissa croaked, her back against the wall, shuddering with every sob.
"And I know that I don't want to have that hole in me again," she said, an undercurrent of pleading making itself known, "I don't want to lose you again."
"Are you about done?" Bethany asked, trying but failing to keep her voice from breaking by injecting a tone of mock exasperation. She waited until her violet-blue eyes were upon her once more, then swallowed and began to speak.
"You're not alone in this, Clare," Bethany said, her fists clenching as she fought to make herself heard, "I had been so angry, so blinded with rage that I pushed you away, that I forgot something so dear to me, it's clawed at my heart, my soul for every minute of every hour."
She strode forward then, brushing past Clarissa's arms and pressing directly into her trembling, heaving body until her face was inches away from hers and her breath was hot and heavy on her lips. She ran a finger over Clarissa's left cheek, scooping up a droplet of moisture that has escaped her eyes and cried out softly when Clarissa whimpered, her knees going weak and her eyes clenching shut.
"You're the one thing I couldn't live without." Bethany whispered, slowly closing the distance between them and capturing Clarissa's lips in a long, meaningful kiss. She mirrored her when she moaned, pinning her against the wall with the soft caress of her body, feeling her taut muscles yield to her soft curves, once again.
Yes…
Bethany broke the kiss, leaving a flushed Clarissa in her wake.
"And do you know what's changed in the last three days?" Bethany cooed, tracing a finger on Clarissa's lower lip, making their hearts hammer and their blood to sizzle. She barely acknowledged her shaking her head.
"Nothing."
She kissed her again. This time she kissed back, their lips embracing one another and their mouths taking in the inching, caressing touch of their tongues. A contented warmth fell over them, shared between their twin fires of burning desire to taste, smell, hear and touch. Bethany snaked her arm underneath her sister's flowing tunic and around her waist, bringing her ever closer; Clarissa broke her lips from hers, planting fleeting kisses on Bethany's skin until she reached that crook between the flawless skin of her neck and the elegant tilt of her chin.
Then she pushed her away.
Bethany gasped with surprise and puzzlement as Clarissa separated them, her addled mind finding it difficult to decipher the coquettish gleam that resided within her sister's violet-black eyes. They were smoky with desire. It drove her crazy.
"How about a grand tour?" Clarissa asked, taking Bethany by the hand instead of waiting for her answer. She half-guided, half-pulled the flustered young woman up the stairs, passing a number of doors that she neglected to mention. It would seem that she wasn't much of a tour guide.
"I thought-" Bethany was cut off when she led her through an open door that led to a surprisingly spacious room dominated by a lofty king-sized bed. A knowing gleam passed over her eyes. She felt the heat between her legs intensify tenfold.
"What about the grand tour?" She teased.
"This is the first stop." Clarissa said nonchalantly, winking salaciously at her.
Bethany pushed her onto the soft fur coverlet, trapping her head between her outstretched arms. She bit her lower lip, feeling a giddy pleasure stoke the burning fire in her loins as Clarissa stiffened.
I'm your only weakness.
"Bethany, I need to ask something of you," Clarissa said. Her voice suddenly took on a heavy, serious tone. Even in her throes of numbing desire, Bethany did not miss the feel of magic rising around them, driven by the woman pinned underneath her.
"Yes, Clarissa?" Bethany asked. Her name never sounded so delicious, so lovely.
She felt a hand reach for her sash, pulling it from its place. She felt her tunic come undone, baring the plain bra she had underneath. She felt her violet-blue eyes, darkened with desire and smoked with lust, undressing her.
"Make me feel alive again." Clarissa whispered.
Then she pulled her down. She willingly fell down.
/So, this is it. This is Echoes of the Heart, in all its entirety. This is arguably one of the first novel-length fanfiction stories I've written, discounting ones that crashed-and-burned when I wrote them at 6. It's been a fun ride for me, as I hoped it would be for you as well, dear reader. It also served as proof, to myself and to my parents, that I was perfectly capable of maintaining an ongoing effort. It did help, however, to have such lovely characters at my side, courtesy of Bioware and their awesome character designers and writers. Jennifer Hepler, I believe it is? You are an awesome person and I tip my non-existent hat to you. And of course there's you, dear reader, be you sticking by my at-times-horrible writing from start to finish or simply dropping by to say hello. I would never have made it this far without you. Yes, YOU. Stop looking around.
Thanks to my parents, my computer blablablargh, I think that's how it goes...
Oh and did I mention the sequel./