Warnings(s): None that I can think of, except maybe language.
Rating: Teen
Review responses:
YoshisSupport: Yes, I'm a total perv too! I think a threesome would be so hot!
David9999: Thank you very much! :D Eventually, Sten will grudgingly respect Hadrian and the only DLCs shown in this chapter are Return to Ostagar, Soldier's Peak, and The Stone Prisoner. I haven't played the other four yet so they most likely won't show up here.
Aki: Yes. Actually, I was strongly considering in doing a collection of smut involving various couples. How does that sound? Your request fics will be included of course. :D
Thanks again, everyone!
A Change of Plans
The group, which had increased from three people plus a dog to now five people, were heading in the direction of the end of Lothering's bridge. The sun had already descended down to the horizon, plunging the town into twilight. While the leader of this misfit group was happy to be out of the town, he was at the same time anxious. Would Hawke be there to meet them? If so, then his journey would be more interesting than ever and more arduous as well. It was difficult enough with Morrigan and Alistair going at each other like rabid wolves. Now, he had to contend with a suspicious redhead and a noble Qunari who only wanted to atone for his killings of the farmers that were unfortunate enough to be in his path.
Having four more people traveling with them would, truthfully, burden him but Hadrian liked the elder Hawke sibling. He felt a sense of kinship with him and had wanted to know more about the man. Oddly enough, he wasn't sexually attracted to Arren; he wasn't even sure if the man swung that way to be begin with. Being fey wasn't exactly easy for nobles.
They had been waiting for the Hawkes for almost two candlelights. As time passed though and with his group getting increasingly agitated, Hadrian knew that he couldn't stay on any longer. Even Alistair was growing rather impatient as he fingered the hilt of his sword and eyed the newcomers with a wary eye.
"Why must we wait here?" The tall Qunari finally asked. "Shouldn't we be taking our leave now? This town offers nothing but hypocrisy and bigotry."
"He's waiting for someone, the way two lovers have a rendezvous," Morrigan grinned like a cheshire cat, something that Hadrian did not appreciate.
"We're not lovers!" Hadrian ranted angrily at Morrigan. A vein popped into his forehead. Leliana giggled at the sight of the stoic Hadrian and Morrigan arguing with each other on the terms of the relationship. Sten just grunted in great annoyance at how extensive humans could be in expressing feelings.
"Anyways, they're not coming," Hadrian said a few minutes later, his face more serious. "we're moving out."
He walked ahead of the group and his companions fell in behind him. Alistair spared a last glance behind him and he couldn't see anything running after them. Although he was happy to see that the Hawkes weren't following them, a small twinge of regret tugged at his heart. He much rather endure this odd feeling of something in seeing them together than the disappointment shown on Hadrian's face.
Someone had called his name and he knew by the slight tenors of that voice that it was Hadrian who had called him out. He turned to the group and found that they were still walking away from him. Better go and catch up before they really leave me behind! With that thought in mind, Alistair hastily went after them.
It didn't take the group too long to procure a spot to camp for the night. Hadrian's eyes scanned the area they had come upon a few moments later.
There was a nice flat area located just off the trail and the still smoldering embers of a campfire indicated that someone had previously used this site. At first Hadrian thought it might have been bandits that had recently left their abode but the wagon tracks left in the packed dirt said otherwise. Must have been merchants or something. Other than those two signs, Hadrian could see no other evidence of someone having been here.
He learned from his experiences that it was a bad idea to camp right after someone else. The campsite, warm and welcoming, would lure in unwary travelers and leave them vulnerable to bandits and thugs, who would be waiting in the shrubs and trees for an opportunity to ambush them.
Taking a quick glance at his group, Hadrian smiled. With three warriors, an Assassin, a Mage, and a Mabari whose sense of smell was unrivaled, the Cousland warrior doubted that any group of unruly thugs would want to even think about attacking them. Additionally, he felt bad for making his companions wait so this was an ideal time to settle down for the night.
By the time everyone had their tents set up, the moon was almost at the apex of its course in the clear sky. Also, two certain dwarves showed up in the midst of it. The sounds of the wagon wheels grinding into the dirt alerted everybody, who came out of the tent, ready for battle if necessary.
"Whoa! We are not here to hurt ye!" Bodahn yelled, his hands swiftly coming up to show that he bore no ill will towards him. "Son, bring ye hands up!"
"Enchantment?" Sandal asked innocently, not treating the scene of armed warriors with great care as he slowly brought his hands up.
"Not this time, me boy!"
"Bodahn? Sandal? What are you two doing here?" Hadrian was completely taken aback by the two dwarves, who still held their hands up. Realizing that his comrades were still armed, the young Warden sheathed his weapon, thus indicating that the visitors were not hostile. In fact, they were more than welcome if the grin breaking out on Hadrian's face meant anything by it.
"We just happened to be on our way to, umm, yes, to Denerim." Bodahn's voice hitched but everybody could easily tell that he was lying.
"You were following us, weren't you?" Hadrian didn't need any more people adding to his merry band of men and women.
"Yes, we thought that merchants like us are less prone to robbery and murder in the presence of you and your friends."
"You can put your hands down." Hadrian pointed at their still raised hands and Bodahn's blush, if it were daylight, would have been a comical sight indeed, especially on one of the dwarves' face. "And you don't have to lie to me. My friends and I won't hurt you."
"I know; otherwise you would have let those nasty darkspawn have us."
"Well, you can stay with us; I can't guarantee you that it'll be a life of luxury for you, but you and your son will be safe with us. We'll talk more about it when dawn breaks."
"Thank you so much, good ser! Yes, we'll make sure to stay out of your way! Come on, boy! Let's take this monstrous wagon over here." Bodahn clasped around the wagon handle while Sandal held unto the other one.
Together they lifted the wagon and pulled it off to the side of the main campsite.
Satisfied that the two dwarves didn't need his help and were just getting along fine, Hadrian headed back to the campsite. His new companions had already gone off to bed, apparently fully trusting that Hadrian could take care of his own person. The only person standing outside was Alistair who was warming his hands next to a small-sized bonfire.
The templar almost looked sad, his eyes staring gloomily at the flickering flames. His body was hunched in slightly and Hadrian was sure that if Alistair stayed in that position for too long, his back and legs were going to be sore afterwards. Was something bothering his fellow Warden?
"Alistair?"
The older Warden looked at him in response and there was a smile there, but Hadrian knew it was a fake one.
"Is everything ok?
"Yes. Just tired, that's all."
"I can take first watch," Hadrian offered.
Alistair shook his nod in disagreement. "I'm already up. Besides, I'm not the one who has to walk up early to talk to those two over there." He gazed in the direction of the two newcomers.
"Alright, I'll see you in the morning."
Alistair bid his friend goodnight, watching him enter the tent. After the sounds of settling into bed quieted down, the remaining Warden stared back into the flames, thinking of just how long this journey might take and where it may take them.
The night passed uneventfully for the sentinel and he too was about to nod off when he heard a quiet moan followed by sounds of thrashing. His eyes snapped open and he clambered onto his feet, thinking that the darkspawn may have discovered where they were holed up and had just offed one of his friends. When no attack came, his guard relaxed. However, the moans continued and he realized that it came from Hadrian's tent, set off to the right of the bonfire and closer to the exit of the campfire.
Should I go and check up on him? Maybe I should stay here…he could be…While Alistair was a virgin, he was of course not naïve enough to know what boys do in their own time and with their own hands. In fact, he was guilty enough of it himself and his cheeks flushed when he for some reason imagined Hadrian doing that particular act. No! Don't think of that!
He pinched himself very hard and he let out a sharp hiss of pain. Only the dog, Regus, woke up, its ears perking straight up and alert, black eyes roving over him and the tent. Seeing no immediate threat to its master, Regus' head laid down and the Mabari returned to its interrupted slumber.
There was another soft cry, but it was of someone's name, followed by hiccuping sounds, as if the lad was crying in sleep. Alistair couldn't take it anymore and he slowly strolled into the tent, fully aware of Regus watching his every move. Alistair wasn't fooled by how lazy the Mabari was acting lately for he had personally seen the canine in action. Its powerful legs would propel him forward unto his enemies who would be unfortunate enough to have their last sight on Thedas be a Mabari tearing their throats out. Its hide, although incomparable to human armor, was strong enough to at least soften the blows of clubs or other weapons.
His friend was indeed crying in his sleep and he could hear him mumbling incoherently. Names like Fergus and his parents escaped his lips. Maybe he was missing his family? Alistair's eyes drifted from the man to his belongings, which were sparse. A sword was lain at the side of the cot, on top of a shield with a peculiar coat of arms etched on it. A Wolf? So he really is a Cousland. I thought he was a vassal of the Couslands. Now it all makes sense. No wonder he was searching like a madman for Fergus earlier!
Only the immediate family members were permitted to bear the arms of their family. Those working for them were given shields with a lesser noble symbol. For example, King Maric and his son both bore the shield of twin lions while those in their personal Bodyguard entourage held shields with a golden sun wielded into the sheet of metal.
Hadrian shifted in his sleep and he curled into a fetal position. His moans had disappeared, as his presence soothed him of his pains even in sleep. Happy that his friend's face relaxed into a more peaceful expression of sleep, Alistair began to step out.
As if on cue, the moans started again and his friend thrashed around again. The templar sighed. The Maker certainly was picking on him today. You make your own path, Alistair Theirin. The little boy's voice rang out inside his head. He almost forgot about that odd dream. My own path? I don't even know where to start!
He hovered between the interior of the tent and the outside. Regus was now on all fours and had padded his way to the Templar. He gave such an odd look to the Templar, almost as if he knew what the man was thinking. Then he walked inside and let out a small whine at sensing his master's distress. Alistair watched at how the Mabari could be so affectionate towards a man. A pink tongue lolled out of its mouth and it licked a sweaty fist in comfort.
The affectionate gesture calmed the man down a bit and a hand unclenched itself from where it was grasping the sheet. Another lick and soon the hand itself fully relaxed, opening up the palm and exposing itself to more licks from Regus.
Seeing his master go more relaxed, Regus circled around the spot several times before laying down. Before it did so, it gazed at Alistair again, as if saying I'm watching you, human before closing its eyes and then, to all appearances, falling sleep.
Alistair left the tent and he saw that a crescent moon had hung gloomily in the dark sky. It was going to be long night.
-o0o-
Arren Hawke had every intention of going to meet with the amiable stranger he had befriended earlier that day. His sister wholly supported him in his decision but both his mother and Carver opposed the idea outright.
"We've just managed to settle down and now you want to move on?" She practically screamed at him. "Your father sacrificed everything for us to get this life and now this?"
"Mum, the Darkspawn are coming this way. You've seen it yourself when you went back with Bethany to get me and Carver."
His mother's face paled at that and Arren thought she was going to pass out. She was a tough woman though and she scowled, her brows furrowing in strong disapproval.
A tense silence came upon mother and son, which was later broken by a door bursting open and revealing a familiar face and a not so familiar person.
"Carver!"
"By the Maker! He's heavier than he looks!" Carver struggled to keep a hold on the limp man, who emitted a weak moan. "A little help here, please?"
Arren Hawke rushed over to the pair immediately and aided his brother in lying the stranger down on the wooden floor. He, like his sister, wasn't a professional healer, but he had enough experience to know through inspection that the man had suffered quite a few internal injuries as well as some broken ribs and his leg seemed to hang out of place. To make it even more interesting was the crest of the armor the senseless man wore.
"This man is a Cousland!" Arren exclaimed, his hands brushing the slick blood off the chestplate. Both Carver and his mother gasped at seeing the bloodied features of a wolf's head.
"Isn't that the same one found on your friend's armor too?" His mother asked, the anger gone and replaced by that of a motherly concern. "Where's your sister, Bethany? She could help you in healing this man."
"She was helping Miriam out in making more health poultices." Arren replied. He watched Carver unclasp the buckles of the breastplate and the trio was pleased to see that he bore no penetrating wounds. They all knew that to receive a wound from a Darkspawn's tainted sword would irrevocably seal the poor man's fate. If he had any such wounds, it would have been their duty to slay the man whence he laid. To not do so would have been cruel.
"Thank the Maker, he has no gaping wounds," Carver breathed in relief. He hadn't seen anyone be put to the sword of their friends because of this but reading tales of this did not make it any easier.
"Carver, go and get Bethany. Mother and I should be fine on our own for now," Arren commanded his brother. If Carver had no objections to being ordered around, he kept them to himself. The situation was dire after all, at least for the Cousland man he had found. His brother nodded and quickly left the house in search of their sister.
Meanwhile, Arren knelt beside the man and closed his eyes, gathering the magic in his hands. He felt a warming sensation in his hands and then imagined the body in his mind. There, he saw a multitude of contusions and internal bleeding. How the man survived this was a mystery even to him. However, in his examination of the Cousland man, he stumbled unto something he had never seen before.
In every being, regardless of race, was an aura and the hues depended on the temperance of the owner. Green was the common colour found in a typical man, sometimes tinged with orange and even red, due to the sudden passions that would overtake him, whether it be passions of desire or rage. Elves had a bluish tinge often associated with them while the Keepers were gray. In the dwarves, theirs was a murkey brown, as if their association with the stones they worked with had bled even into their very souls.
But this man, this man's being was blue but it was streaked with silver hues. He had never seen such a combination of colours before. In the books he had read about the Fade, the only ones who could possibly have this were mages for they were closer to the Fade than any other being. Could he be an actual abomination? But this, this is unheard of!
Piqued by this oddity, he focused his will and tried to get closer to it. He tried to reach for it but something stopped him or rather a voice stopped him.
Hawke, aien no volae
He startled at the voice and there apparating itself in front of him was an adolescent boy, his blue eyes looking piercingly at his own.
I don't…I don't understand… He said to him.
Save this man.
What?
Save this man and seek out the caged one.
Caged? Him?
Arren was even more confused by all this. The little boy was starting to disappear, his essence melting into the silver strands before disappearing entirely. Wait! I don't understand! The Caged one?
Go to Amaranthine. Seek him out.
Arren's eyes snapped open and he found that he was no longer sitting by the patient but lying in another bed, as if he was a patient too.
"Arren? Are you ok?" Bethany's face swam into his view and he could see the concern swimming in her soft brown eyes.
Arren slowly got up from the bed and, from the moonlight shining into his room, found that it was already nighttime. Maker! They were supposed to meet with Hadrian and the others! His eyes alighted on the other bed, where his mother was bathing the man's face, singing softly while doing so.
"How is he?"
Bethany turned to the duo. "He's doing much better now. The majority of his injuries were healed by the time Carver and I returned."
She saw her brother frown and continued speaking. "You collapsed over him and mother was extremely frantic. She said you kept saying 'Amaranthine,' Arren."
"Oh."
Arren's monosyllable reply had Bethany think that maybe he struck his head too harshly when keeling over before. She felt his body temp by placing a hand on his forehead. He wasn't abnormally hot but not cold either. Maybe he was just confused still.
She pulled back her hand and discovered that Arren had dozed, his soft snores emanating quietly into the little room they were all in.
Carver walked in on them, carrying a small tray of food and drink.
"Still asleep?" He asked as he offered a cheese and meat sandwich to her, along with a cup of water. She placed her items on a little tableside that was close by and brought up the blanket, tucking it neatly around his shoulders and underneath his chin.
"He woke up a few minutes ago," she replied and her mind worked around the reason behind the recent events. She had a strange feeling that they weren't supposed to meet these men, first Hadrian and now this Cousland man, who caused her brother to mumble that name. Amaranthine was far away from Lothering, almost six months of traveling easily and that was by horseback. Then again, she and her brother had been working on a teleportation spell…
"Bethany, what are you smiling for? Are you up to something?" Carver's tone was playful and she regarded him in a cheeky manner.
"I think I know what we're going to be next and we better start packing now."
Carver raised an eyebrow and Bethany could feel almost the confusion coming from her twin brother. Oh yes, this part was going to be fun. If only she and Arren could figure out how to teleport without losing pieces of themselves, they all should make it to Amaranthine in just a day or two.
-TBC-
Ok, I know you all have questions to be had but the only way to get them answered quickly enough is for you to present them to me. I can't read minds, but that would be a cool ability to have, ne?
Also, don't forget to vote for who will earn Fergus' heart. I only have ten voters... I'm sad. For Fergus/Zevran lovers, you better vote now otherwise Zevran will be very lonely...