Fic: Choice
What was intended to be a oneshot has now spawned yet another part and the plot bunny who originally wandered in, is biting me to cover all the companions. Mostly Fenris I'm having bother thinking of how to do it, since I've never written for him. And Anders is easier and I still have a pile of plot bunnies for him.
Title: Choice
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Characters: Hawke, Aveline
Summary: Aveline gives her advice to Hawke about dealing with grief.
Part 1: The One Who Never Grieves Part 2: Blame
It's a few days after Carver has visited that Aveline asks to see him. He hopes it's more work, if only for the distraction.
He leaves Anders at the clinic, he doubts he'll need him even if it is more work dealing with slavers or whatever else turns up. He wanders into the Viscount's Keep, gives Donnic a nod of greeting. He's still awkward around the man after Aveline and the whole debacle with setting them up. Something he'll not forget in a hurry and will continue to tease Aveline about.
Donnic points to the office and he pushes it open without so much as knocking. She'll probably scold him for that. She notices him, stands up from her desk and comes over to him, pulls him into a hug. Holy Maker something's wrong. In all the time he's known Aveline, she's never been one to suddenly hug someone. She lets him go a moment later, shuts the door behind him then goes over and leans on her desk.
"We haven't spoken about Leandra. More to the point, you didn't tell me," she says, frowning at him. "I had to hear it from the dwarf."
Balls.
She sighs. "How are you?"
He almost snaps, almost makes a sarcastic remark that'll likely get his arse kicked. When did such a simple question hurt so much and have a thousand and one ways to answer? He tries to at least appear normal, that he's fine. "I have a smile on my face, that should be enough for some people," he tells her. The smile is weary, completely fake and nowhere near enough to convince Aveline of his words.
She gives him a look, one Mother used often when he and Carver were fighting and started blaming one another. And it hurts. He does wonder when Aveline became so good at that. "Not to me," she pauses and sighs, "I knew her too."
And there's the guilt. She's right. Mother often asked after Aveline, how she was getting on in the guards, was she liking Kirkwall, had she not found anyone to settle down with. The last one he was quite happy about, it saved Mother from trying to set him up with the Reindhart's daughter until Anders had moved in. That put a stop to her plans.
"I...I'm sorry Aveline, you should've heard it from me," he tells her, and he means it.
Aveline shakes her head. "You weren't ready. I understand."
He raises an eyebrow.
"No one can tell you how to grieve. You do it at your own pace, your own choice." She gives a small, sad smile. "I'd like to think my own mother was like her."
His curiosity is peaked. "You don't remember her?"
Aveline shakes her head. "Just flashes. Her long hair mostly." She glances away for a second then her gaze returns to him, steady. "My father on the other hand. Would you like to hear one thing?"
He nods. "You've never talked about him."
For the first time, she speaks of her father, Benoit du Lac. She speaks of him training her, teaching her the skills she has now, of how she lost him in a Denerim ward and her final days with him. That part hits home, reminds him too much of losing his father. Now Mother's gone...What would he say? How would Father react to his failing Mother? And Bethany? Who else is he going to fail? Anders? He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to pay attention to Aveline again.
She has a tear in her eye when she finishes and she wipes it away, takes a breath. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."
He's the one who reaches out this time, puts one hand on her arm, despite she's still done up in her captain's armour.
"Drink?" She nods to the cabinet.
He clears his throat. "I could use one."
Aveline goes over to the cabinet, finds two glasses and a bottle. She hands him his glass, takes a sip of her own. "Don't let anyone tell you when to mourn. Take their hand and say 'my choice'."
"Not in public, I hope. Anders might have something to say about that," he answers, trying to joke. Trying to get some sense of normality again.
Aveline laughs slightly. "All right, Hawke. Have your joke."
He takes a long drink from his glass, almost draining it. "Thank you, Aveline. I think I needed that."
"What, the drink or the talk?"
He smiles, a real one this time. "Both, really."
They spend more time talking, about everything, anything, the weather. He's sure Aveline can tell he's putting off going back to the estate. In the time he's in her office, he's unsure just what he'd do without her. He leaves her office a few hours later with the promise that she'll drag herself away from her duties, come down to the Hanged Man more often. He knows it won't last, she'll do it for a while, indulge him then go back to her normal routine. It's enough, for now at least.
Title: Choice
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Characters: Hawke, Aveline
Summary: Aveline gives her advice to Hawke about dealing with grief.
Part 1: The One Who Never Grieves Part 2: Blame
It's a few days after Carver has visited that Aveline asks to see him. He hopes it's more work, if only for the distraction.
He leaves Anders at the clinic, he doubts he'll need him even if it is more work dealing with slavers or whatever else turns up. He wanders into the Viscount's Keep, gives Donnic a nod of greeting. He's still awkward around the man after Aveline and the whole debacle with setting them up. Something he'll not forget in a hurry and will continue to tease Aveline about.
Donnic points to the office and he pushes it open without so much as knocking. She'll probably scold him for that. She notices him, stands up from her desk and comes over to him, pulls him into a hug. Holy Maker something's wrong. In all the time he's known Aveline, she's never been one to suddenly hug someone. She lets him go a moment later, shuts the door behind him then goes over and leans on her desk.
"We haven't spoken about Leandra. More to the point, you didn't tell me," she says, frowning at him. "I had to hear it from the dwarf."
Balls.
She sighs. "How are you?"
He almost snaps, almost makes a sarcastic remark that'll likely get his arse kicked. When did such a simple question hurt so much and have a thousand and one ways to answer? He tries to at least appear normal, that he's fine. "I have a smile on my face, that should be enough for some people," he tells her. The smile is weary, completely fake and nowhere near enough to convince Aveline of his words.
She gives him a look, one Mother used often when he and Carver were fighting and started blaming one another. And it hurts. He does wonder when Aveline became so good at that. "Not to me," she pauses and sighs, "I knew her too."
And there's the guilt. She's right. Mother often asked after Aveline, how she was getting on in the guards, was she liking Kirkwall, had she not found anyone to settle down with. The last one he was quite happy about, it saved Mother from trying to set him up with the Reindhart's daughter until Anders had moved in. That put a stop to her plans.
"I...I'm sorry Aveline, you should've heard it from me," he tells her, and he means it.
Aveline shakes her head. "You weren't ready. I understand."
He raises an eyebrow.
"No one can tell you how to grieve. You do it at your own pace, your own choice." She gives a small, sad smile. "I'd like to think my own mother was like her."
His curiosity is peaked. "You don't remember her?"
Aveline shakes her head. "Just flashes. Her long hair mostly." She glances away for a second then her gaze returns to him, steady. "My father on the other hand. Would you like to hear one thing?"
He nods. "You've never talked about him."
For the first time, she speaks of her father, Benoit du Lac. She speaks of him training her, teaching her the skills she has now, of how she lost him in a Denerim ward and her final days with him. That part hits home, reminds him too much of losing his father. Now Mother's gone...What would he say? How would Father react to his failing Mother? And Bethany? Who else is he going to fail? Anders? He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to pay attention to Aveline again.
She has a tear in her eye when she finishes and she wipes it away, takes a breath. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."
He's the one who reaches out this time, puts one hand on her arm, despite she's still done up in her captain's armour.
"Drink?" She nods to the cabinet.
He clears his throat. "I could use one."
Aveline goes over to the cabinet, finds two glasses and a bottle. She hands him his glass, takes a sip of her own. "Don't let anyone tell you when to mourn. Take their hand and say 'my choice'."
"Not in public, I hope. Anders might have something to say about that," he answers, trying to joke. Trying to get some sense of normality again.
Aveline laughs slightly. "All right, Hawke. Have your joke."
He takes a long drink from his glass, almost draining it. "Thank you, Aveline. I think I needed that."
"What, the drink or the talk?"
He smiles, a real one this time. "Both, really."
They spend more time talking, about everything, anything, the weather. He's sure Aveline can tell he's putting off going back to the estate. In the time he's in her office, he's unsure just what he'd do without her. He leaves her office a few hours later with the promise that she'll drag herself away from her duties, come down to the Hanged Man more often. He knows it won't last, she'll do it for a while, indulge him then go back to her normal routine. It's enough, for now at least.