Chapter Eleven
We are forever as one in what remains
You're in my blood
From the cradle to the grave
I don't like to think about the pieces
Or the cracks and the breaks that still remain
If I could breathe, I'd ask you
To look in my mercy mirror
I need you more than I have known
My heart like a planet, the sun forgot
Where now? Orbiting the light that I had lost
More than words, the silence teaches
How to see and to feel what is real
When sunlight reaches my soul
It's a wicked game life plays
How it gives and takes away
No turning 'round, touching ground
What we had was so much more than I realized
If I could, I'd embrace you
And look in my mercy mirror
I need you more than I have known
So look in my mercy mirror
'Cause I'm not ready to let you go
Now I know, now I know
I'm not ready to let you go
~Mercy Mirror by Within Temptation~
Cullen walked at a steady pace up the stairs from the docks, passed by the Hanged Man in Lowtown, toward the steps that led past the Blooming Rose into Hightown. It was a journey that was so familiar, easily traversed hundreds of times since he came to Kirkwall, that his mind was able to wander freely. With dawn still nearly an hour away, the city was quiet and empty of people. Since the day he had confronted Wilmod, stared death in the face in the battle that followed, then been saved by the hidden magic of Marian Hawke, he was doubting everything he ever thought he knew.
Despite spending hours at a time in the Chantry, he found he couldn't even pray, not really. He felt numb, and when he wasn't numb, he alternated between rage and grief. But it wasn't the same emotions he experienced when struggling for his sanity amidst Uldred's corrupt actions and the blood magic torture years before. No, looking back, that seemed somewhat mild compared to the misery and conflicted feelings he was currently suffering.
Though he had been furious at Marian for not trusting him at the time, since their last encounter his fury at her had time to cool, and instead his rage had turned inward, at himself. To him, Marian was the kindest and best of women, inspiring everyone she met to be comfortable in her presence. To open up and tell her whatever she wished to know, or to unburden themselves in the face of her willingness to listen. She often seemed equally frank and open, or so he had thought, until his eyes had been opened to just how much she managed to conceal.
Though he had accused her of using and deceiving him for her own purposes, had cruelly called her love a lie, he had spoken out of his hurt and anger then. He believed she did love him, he had seen the truth of it in her eyes more than once, heard the sincerity in her voice when she declared it. The only conclusion he could come to that made any sense after mulling it over so many times, was that she did not confide in him because in her eyes, he simply wasn't worthy of trust.
The pain of that insight was the worst he had ever suffered; his heart was torn asunder by the knowledge that he had failed the only woman he had ever loved, would ever love. She didn't feel safe with him, she feared he would take her life without doubt or compunction! He had brought it on himself, speaking to her of all mages as the lowest, least trustworthy individuals in all Thedas. But that wasn't completely true, was it? Marian had never been in a Circle, nor apparently been Circle-trained, yet she was clearly one of the most formidable and seemingly in-control mages he had ever encountered; able to hide her vast power from any and all templars.
He still struggled to come up with an explanation for how she did it, obviously at will. Did a mage with such abilities even need templar protection and guardianship? Or, conversely, did she need it even more than other mages? A larger part of him still thought mages needed to always be watched, but what if that were wrong too? Was Chantry teaching true in every instance, might there not be some exceptions to the rule? Was he a traitor to his Order for thinking the way he was?
He was certain of one thing, if Marian Hawke were ever forced into a Circle it would break her, and that was something he would never be a party to. Nor would he stand by and allow others to take her captive. No one else must discover she was a mage, or she would be in peril. Maybe...if he could only speak to her, perhaps they could come up with a plan for her protection. But what if she despised him now, after he had stubbornly refused to hear her pleas, and would have nothing more to do with him? It would serve him right, being no more than he deserved, as he had been the one to walk away from her, after all.
A startled gasp had him lifting his gaze from the ground and coming to a sudden halt, the woman who had been occupying his thoughts standing just in front of him, her gaze suddenly wary and her body tense. He made sure to relax his own muscles and present no threat, for she well looked ready to bolt.
"Marian," he called her name softly, glad when some of the tension seemed to ease from her. He drank in the sight of her eagerly, noting she looked a little pale and tired, as though she had not gotten much sleep, but otherwise seemed well. He cleared his throat and met her eyes again. "What are you doing out here at this hour?"
She opened her mouth, shifted her weight from one foot to another and shrugged. "I'm leaving Kirkwall today, in just another hour or two."
It was his turn to draw in a sharp breath, and he took an unconscious step toward her. "Leaving? For good? Is it...because of me?"
With furrowed brows she examined his face before dropping her gaze to the ground in front of her feet. "I hope it isn't for good, but I suppose that partially depends on you. Do you want me to leave? I thought you made it quite clear that you never wanted to see me again, Cullen."
He made a pained sound and moved closer, taking one of her hands in both of his, feeling like he could breathe again for the first time in days, just from touching her skin. She shuddered and lifted tear-filled eyes to look at him, her pain palpable.
"Forgive me, Marian," he murmured in a low, fervent tone. "I didn't even thank you for saving my life that day, like the ungrateful wretch I am, and for healing my wound. That wound alone would likely have killed me, if not for you."
"But you hate me," she said in a small voice, a single tear gliding down her cheek. He shook his head and brushed away the tear.
"Hate you? No. Surely you must know, I care very deeply for you," he declared, quietly but firmly. "I regret what I said in my anger, deplore how I wounded you with my words. Upon reflection, I realized I had never shown myself as someone you could trust with all your secrets." His eyes searched hers and he looked around anxiously before guiding her into a hidden doorway where they couldn't be observed before he continued. "But I still want to strive to be the man worthy of your trust and your love...if...you will still have me, that is, after all my idiocy and blundering." A moment of silence stretched between them while they stared into each other's eyes.
She let out a low, frustrated wail. "Will I always take the damned fool's path where you're concerned? But...I...Yes," she finally said on a choked sob, reaching for him blindly through her tears. "I want that too. So much, Cullen."
Exhaling in relief, Cullen pulled her against him, resting his chin on the top of her head. Whatever else happened, Marian Hawke would remain his and he would not give her up, come what may. They were only right together, not apart, he had no desire to question it. Somehow, he would find a way to do his duty and still remain true to her; he must, the alternative was unthinkable.
She lifted her head and he lowered his, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that had them both sighing for more. He rested his forehead against hers, smiling as he gazed into blue eyes that were no longer filled with pain, but soft with tender feeling.
"How long will you be gone on this journey?"
"Some weeks, perhaps longer, I'm not really sure." She smoothed a hand over his hair and down the side of his face, looking thoughtful. "I can't tell you how relieved I am this happened and we were able to come to an understanding before I left, it's almost like a too perfect dream. I would have been utterly miserable had things been left as they were, tormenting myself over all my mistakes, and certain you despised me."
"I'm equally glad we could speak. It's odd, I was just thinking of wanting to seek you out when I came upon you." He pressed his lips to hers again in a slow, searching kiss, conscious of the fact that their time was short. Lifting his head at last, he gave her a curious look. "I've been trying to figure out why I couldn't feel you were a mage. Can you explain how you are able to conceal it so completely? I have never known of anyone who could do that."
Marian shrugged, lacing her hands together behind his neck. "Apparently, it's some sort of shield I developed when I was young. My father was from the Kirkwall Circle, Malcolm Hawke, and he met my mother here and fell in love with her. His friend, a templar named Ser Maurevar Carver, helped him to flee the Circle, I assume by destroying his phylactery, and they married and took ship to Ferelden. Anyway, Father always stressed the need to hide our magic to me and my sister, and as a result, I learned to shield it, though I didn't know that was what I was doing until Anders figured it out."
Cullen grinned and shook his head. "Ser Carver? Do you mean your brother is actually named for a templar your father honored?"
Laughing, Hawke nodded her head. "Just so. Apparently, you aren't the only wonderful templar in the Order, though you're certainly my favorite. And I just realized I am following in the family tradition: a mage falling in love with a non-mage in Kirkwall." She smiled mischievously. "I also think I outdid my father. He fell for a noble, but I fell for someone who is supposed to be my mortal enemy, Knight-Captain Cullen."
He slanted his mouth over hers in a slow kiss. "It seems you like to live dangerously, Lady Hawke."
"I've never tried to, but it does seem drawn to me, for some reason."
Cullen lifted his head, giving her a long, thoughtful look. "Would you mind releasing your shield so I can feel you properly? I'd like to get a sense of your magic, so I am not surprised should I feel it again."
"Very well." Hawke's eyes went unfocused while she dissolved the barrier she habitually kept in place.
As her magic rose and spilled free of its confinement, Cullen drew a slow, steadying breath. His arms tightened around her as fade power thickened the air and thrummed through his body, surrounding them, teasing his templar sensibilities with the proximity of such a gifted magic-wielder.
"Maker's breath, Marian." He gave her an astonished look. "That's more magic than I have ever felt from any Circle mage, including those that have held the title of First Enchanter. How, in Andraste's name, are you able to so fully conceal that?"
Digging her teeth into her top lip, a little embarrassed by his praise, she shook her head. "I don't know how it happened, really, or what exactly I did, it's just habit from so many years of hiding."
Looking around in concern, noting the sun was well up and more people were out, going about their business, Cullen pulled Hawke tighter against his chest. "You'd best shield again, if you can." After a moment, he relaxed, no longer able to feel her magic. "Remarkable," he murmured, nuzzling against her throat and breathing in her scent.
"Hmm, you feel remarkable to me." Marian ran her hands across his broad back in appreciation, then caught his lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it. He groaned and reached down and filled his hands with her full backside. "Maker, Cullen, I'm positively aching for you. How am I ever going to survive the Deep Roads in this state?"
Determined to do something about that while he still could, Cullen pushed her further into the shadowed corner of the doorway they occupied, slipped his hand into the front of her trousers to touch her there, and kissed her like both their lives depended on it. After no more than a moment of his focused attention, she moaned into his mouth, shuddering with release. He stilled at last, removing his hand and resting his head against the side of hers before pulling back to smile at her flushed cheeks and half-lidded gaze.
"I hope that will last you until your return, or perhaps even hurry you back to me if I am very lucky."
Before she could reply, his smile faded and he tilted his head as though listening before looking at her in alarm. Her eyes widened while she clutched at his shoulders in a desperate grip. "Wait! What's happening? Cullen...no!" she screamed.
With the sound of her voice still ringing in his ears, Cullen returned to the full awareness of his body, still pulsing with arousal. He was on his knees, with his arms and head resting on the Chantry alter, where he had apparently fallen asleep. Lifting his head, he glanced around discreetly, but there were no others nearby, not surprising in the middle of the night. His mouth tightened as he quickly recalled everything that had just transpired.
What exactly had that been? It hadn't felt like a dream at all, each second of it vivid and real in his mind. Blood magic? He shook his head, immediately rejecting the idea. He knew instinctively Marian would never have anything to do with such a forbidden, dangerous kind of magic. There had been not a wisp of evil intent or he would have sensed that. It was just a conversation and the physical touches that were as likely and tangible as any they had ever shared.
He pushed to his feet, turned and quietly walked out of the Chantry. Standing on the overlook beside the Chantry stairs, he gazed out at the activity that he could just make out nearer the merchant courtyard. Clenching his jaw, his whole body alight with tension, he was down the stairs and striding toward the Dwarven Merchant's Guild before he knew what he was about. He needed to get to the bottom of what had just happened, one way or another.
Hawke constantly checked the shadows either side of her while she walked at a quick trot through the Darktown tunnel, just shy of running, quickly emerging into Lowtown. She didn't care that it was still the middle of the night and she was meant to be sleeping, there would be no more sleep for her. She shuddered in memory and wrapped her arms more closely about herself, a protective move done unconsciously. When she had woken herself screaming for Cullen, it was with Anders standing over her with an inscrutable expression.
Her cheeks burned with mortification to realize he had clearly witnessed her dream, likely right down to the orgasm she had clearly had while caught in some fantasy imagining of Cullen touching her. Maker's breath! She had stammered some silly excuse of needing to leave early to complete an errand she forgot, which she was certain didn't fool him in the slightest, and got quickly away from the clinic. Stupid.
She huffed in anger, kicking a loose pebble into the Lowtown stairs before she started ascending them. What kind of a bastard was her own mind, to tease her with something she had secretly longed for? Such a perfect, romantic reconciliation and understanding with Cullen was as likely as the Chantry declaring her the new Divine by week's end. She even recalled commenting that the whole thing was like a dream. Clearly, because it was! Pressing her lips together, she shook her head in annoyance at her own absurdity.
The Merchant's Guild square was already bustling with activity by the time she arrived. Carts were loaded with supplies and provisions, with yoked animals ready to pull it all. She didn't recognize any of the dwarves preparing, other than Sandal and Bodahn from her past purchases of their excellent runes. She briefly greeted them both before wandering away. Hawke found herself longing to go and find the doorway she had stood in with Cullen in her dream, so instead, she resolutely made herself climb a staircase just off the Merchant square. Settling down in a hidden corner at the top of the stairs, she opened her pack and pulled out a book of spells and magical theory Anders had loaned her, losing herself in reading for quite some time.
"Ah, I thought I might find you tucked away up here," Anders said in a light, teasing tone, coming to stand in front of her. "And look at what a good student you are, devouring that tome with all the speed of a dwarf swilling ale. Just as well I brought another with me for this journey."
Smiling, Hawke squinted up at him in the bright dawn light and shrugged, glad he seemed to want to make her comfortable and not mention her unfortunate start to the day, which was fine by her. "You know I love to read and seldom have as much time for it as I would wish."
He offered his hand, pulling her to her feet when she took it and gave her a long, searching look. "I won't pry, but I must ask, are you well this morning, Marian? Do you feel ready for this great adventure of ours?"
She nodded, grateful for his tact and gentle inquiry regarding her well-being, which was exactly what she had come to expect of her healer come best friend. "I am, more than ready. It will be a great relief to leave Kirkwall and all its troubles behind for a time, don't you think?"
Anders' eyes softened in understanding, his head tilting thoughtfully. "I suppose a break from Kirkwall could be a positive thing, for both of us. Not exactly a holiday in the deep roads, but a change of pace, to be sure." Taking her arm, he led her to the stairs, both descending as he spoke again. "Your mother is here, I believe she wishes to take leave of you. Shall I wait for you on the other side of the courtyard while you speak to her?"
Biting her lip, Hawke shook her head. "No, come with me, please. I may need your moral support to get through this." She gave him a pleading, ironic smile, winding her arm around his when he smirked in understanding. They made their way to where her mother waited, closer to the market square.
Spotting them, Leandra Hawke walked forward and pulled her daughter into an eager hug. "Oh, Marian, Carver told me you were setting off this morning. I had to come see you before you left, and to thank you for leaving Carver behind with me. He won't have made that easy for you." She held her daughter at arm's length and gave her a sad smile. "I know you feel you need to take this terrible risk, my darling girl, but to have both of you gone from me, into such danger…"
"I understand, Mother. I wouldn't hazard us both, and I'm doing this for you, for our family. I'm going to give you a better life, you'll see." She turned toward her friend. "Mother, have you met Anders? He's a Grey Warden and a very gifted healer. He's been doing me a favor by keeping me hidden away the past few days. I think you may rest easy, knowing I will be in his excellent care for this journey."
Leandra turned to him with a calm smile and a considering look. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting you, Anders, but I know you by reputation, of course. You have done much good for the people of this city, we all owe you thanks, and I owe you a personal thanks for healing my children, very likely on a daily basis," she added with a charming laugh.
He smiled. "Mistress Hawke, an honor to meet you after getting to know your delightful children. I am less acquainted with Carver, though he is clearly a fierce and tenacious guardian of his sister, but I feel I know your daughter, Marian, quite well." He glanced at her with mischief clear in his eyes, his smile growing wider before continuing. "She is an extraordinarily talented woman, as well as kind and beautiful. I feel very privileged to be able to call her my friend, perhaps I may even have the honor of calling her something else in the future. And please know that I find healing its own reward, no thanks are needed," he added graciously.
She looked shrewdly between the two mages, noting her daughter's blushing cheeks with a pleased expression. "My husband was gifted at healing as well, you know. He was trained here in the Kirkwall Circle, before we married and ran away to Ferelden." She sighed with a faraway look. "Those were better days, before the blight came." She shook herself from the sudden melancholy and reached for Anders' hand with a warm smile. "I will happily entrust Marian to your capable hands then, Anders, and with a healer as captivating and handsome as you, I shouldn't be surprised if you find she injures herself frequently. Goodbye dears, good fortune and safe journey!"
"Maker's breath," Hawke muttered under her breath, blushing more deeply as her mother hurried off. She gave Anders an apologetic smile and winced. "I'm sorry about that, my mother seems rather fixated and eager to foist me off on some poor, unsuspecting man, ever since I hit the ripe old age of twenty-two. But you may come to be very sorry for what you implied in your great desire to laugh at me, my mother can be like a mabari with a bone when an idea takes her."
Anders grinned, clearly enjoying her embarrassment and discomfort, fully ready to tease her further. "Did you get the sense that your mother would like me to recreate her history by having you fall madly in love with me, then whisking you away to Ferelden to give birth to my charming, magical offspring?"
She gave a loud chuff of laughter and rolled her eyes. "I can't think of anything less likely to be my future, than that."
"Really? Not yet fully overcome by how captivating and handsome I seem to be?" Anders wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, dropping a careless kiss to her forehead. "I suppose neither of us is cut out for parenthood, but remember, my offer to teach you lots of wonderful and amazing things still stands. Just say the word."
She shoved him away playfully. "Any captivating and handsome bits get completely drowned out by how loudly you snore, but I'll be sure and let you know if I ever happen to change my mind. Don't hold your breath for it."
"Are we ready to depart?" Fenris asked, strolling up beside them and crossing his lyrium-branded arms, soon joined by Varric.
"As soon as Bartrand gives the word," the dwarf shrugged, "anytime now. Looks like we're going to have nice weather to start, let's hope our good luck holds all the way there and back."
A loud signal whistle sounded soon after, the caravan slowly moving down the road leading out of Kirkwall. Just before Marian followed her companions out of the square, she felt a strange shiver of awareness creep up her spine and frowned. Turning, she looked behind her, back in the direction of the Chantry. There on the steps to the Viscount's Keep, Cullen stood watching her. Their eyes met and held, his arms crossed and brows drawn together. Taking a step forward, he leaned against the metal railing, his mouth opening slightly, as though he wanted to speak to her, impossible across such a distance. And wasn't that thought just a perfect description of their relationship?
She felt a sharp twinge of regret in her chest at all the things still unresolved between them, and maybe they would never be resolved, but she still hated to go and leave things as they were. Not that there was a choice in the matter now, with her leaving. Remembering the fool's hope of her dream and the pain it still brought, she stiffened her spine and turned away from the watchful eyes of the Knight-Captain. Marian Hawke walked on toward the deep roads, and she didn't look back.
Anders is trying to do what he wants in this story, and I'm just letting the characters tell me what they want to say and do, so not exactly sure how that will all turn out. Guess we'll see. ;)