Re: A Little White Lie (15/?)
anonymous
May 17 2011, 13:50:22 UTC
Anders didn’t know what brought on the sudden change in topic, but he went along with it. “He seems to have made it through no worse for the wear.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. What do you think of him?”
Anders frowned.
“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he? He’s got nice eyes.”
Then he got it. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face.
“He...has nice eyes?”
“You didn’t notice? He’s not your type, then?”
“I...is he your type?”
Hawke chewed on her bottom lip. “I can’t decide.”
The Dumar boy? What in the Maker’s name could she see in him?
“He’s all wrong for you,” Anders practically choked. “You need someone who can take care of himself. You could never be happy with a man who had to hide behind bodyguards.”
Autumn Hawke and the viscount’s son? He couldn’t even picture it.
And then, probably because it was the last thing he wanted to do, he did picture it. The images rose unbidden to his mind. He saw all the things he wanted to do with Hawke, but with Saemus Dumar in his place. Saemus’s soft, babied hands running over the curves of Hawke’s body. Saemus’s fingers peeling open her clothing and slipping inside, Hawke’s head tilting back in pleasure. Saemus trailing kisses down Autumn’s neck as she moaned...
Anders’s hands balled up in fists.
“You need someone capable. Not a pampered noble who would be appalled at the things we have to do just to survive. Did you see how the battle unnerved him? He’s spent his life locked behind gilded doors. That can’t be what you’re looking for...is it?”
Hawke sighed. “No, you’re right,” she said. “That’s pretty much what I thought, too. I just...I get tired of being alone, you know?”
Anders knew. He knew that if he wasn’t what he was, neither of them would have to be alone. If he were a normal man, he could be the one to chase away her loneliness. He could hold her in his arms as they explored each other with hands and lips and tongues. He would make love to her all night long, slowly, tenderly, until she was trembling and gasping his name. And afterwards, he would be the one to lay in her arms, limbs entangled, as she told him all her innermost secrets, every unknown dream and hidden fear. He would listen and stroke her hair and promise her he would always be there for her.
But he was what he was: an apostate and a fool who had let a Fade spirit into his head. Justice was always with him, an inescapable presence in his mind, hard and unforgiving. Anders didn’t know how his story would end, but he knew whatever fate awaited him, it wouldn’t be happy.
He had doomed himself. He didn’t have to take Hawke down with him.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Hawke was saying. “It’s not like the viscount’s son is going to get romantic with a Fereldan refugee.”
For some reason, the idea of Saemus rejecting Hawke made him angrier than anything else. “He’d be a fool to refuse you,” Anders said. “You’re much too good for him. You’re beautiful and strong and...so, so kind....”
Hawke smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she said. “I...guess I’ll get Isabela to take a look at this chest.” With that, she hurried away.
Hawke and Saemus Dumar.
Anders was a Grey Warden. He was used to nightmares.
Now he would have one more.
-----
When Saemus was returned safely to the viscount and both sisters were back in Lowtown, Hawke brought the idea up to Bethany.
“So...what did you think of the Dumar boy?”
“The viscount’s son?” Bethany considered. “He certainly was good looking, but I rather had the impression he was interested in men. What with him running away with a male Qunari and all.”
Horrified, Hawke put her head in her hands. “Maker, I’m terrible at this!”
Bethany laughed and put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, Sister. The right person will come along. For both of us.”
Re: A Little White Lie (15/?)
anonymous
May 17 2011, 17:29:21 UTC
Oh gawd is it wrong that I giggled at this part a bit to hard. I just want Anders to say "I do like women you know!" Next thing we know Hawke is gonna try to set him up with some man or something, I will be just giggling all day.
Re: A Little White Lie (16/?)
anonymous
May 23 2011, 22:31:14 UTC
Maker, please, thought Autumn, not tonight.
The Maker apparently did not hear her, because the hum of voices in the next room, which had been growing steadily in volume for the past ten minutes, now broke out into out-and-out yelling.
“...don’t know how you could gamble away everything we had! It’s not just about money. That estate was everything we had of our history! Our parents, our grandparents, our great-great-great-grandparents all lived in that house, raised their children there!”
“Don’t start pretending like that matters to you, Leandra! You left! Ran off to Fereldan with that bloody apostate to raise your brats. If family was so important, you wouldn’t have abandoned it!”
“You want to talk about family? You put my children into servitude! For a year! What do you know about family?”
Bethany’s voice, quieter than the others, drifted in, “Let it go, Mother. Please. It’s not worth fighting...”
“Better I left the lot of you to rot outside the city, then? That’s gratitude for you. I had to pull in favors just to get those opportunities for your useless kids!”
Just ignore them, Hawke thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Just go to sleep.
“Pull in favors? My children took care of your debts to those smugglers!”
“And now they take up space, eat me out of house and home! If that estate meant so much to you, you bloody well should have stayed to look after it!”
And suddenly Hawke knew she couldn’t do it. Not one more night spent curled up in bed pretending she didn’t hear them, or pleading uselessly for them to calm down. Not one more night of them shrieking at each other until they had no voices left to shout with. Not one more night.
“My children contribute more to this household than you do!”
Hawke didn’t bother with armor. A pair of trousers, a tunic, her boots, and her sword strapped to her back. That was all she needed. With a bang, she pushed open the door to her room, stormed past her astonished mother and uncle, and slammed the front door behind her.
She stood in the cool night air of Lowtown, face upturned to the sky, and wondered what in the Void she would do now.
She could go to the Hanged Man. She knew Varric and Isabela would still be up. But she wasn’t sure she could muster up enough cheer to deal with them tonight.
There was really only one place she could think of.
Re: A Little White Lie (17/?)
anonymous
May 23 2011, 22:39:09 UTC
-----
It was later than usual when Anders closed his clinic that night. A gang fight in Lowtown had left a teenage boy near death, his body mutilated. He’d been carried in by his hysterical mother who pleaded through her tears for Anders to save her boy.
He was lucky the boy had been brought to him before he lost too much blood. Anders had been able to save his life...but the boy’s hand had been chopped off at the wrist, and Anders could not regrow limbs. He worried what would become of the boy now. It would be difficult to work, difficult to fight...would even his gang take him back if he could not be useful to them?
He wanted to berate the boy for joining a gang in the first place--and he had, half-heartedly--but he knew how things were. The gangs offered protection for poor Fereldan refugees with nowhere else to turn.
Anders sighed as he closed and locked the first of the two large doors to his clinic. First thing in the morning, he would go to see Lirene about the boy and his mother. See if there was anything she could do for them.
The mother had been exceptionally grateful. Anders remembered the adoring look in her eyes as she thanked him--and then the way her fingers shook as she reached for the buttons on her dress, offering to pay him with the only thing she had. He’d put his hand over hers, stopping her, telling her she owed him nothing. She’d grown even more worshipful after that, though that certainly had not been his intent.
He would leave the lanterns lit during the night, in case of emergency. Sometimes people would bang on the doors in the wee hours, needing help for some life-threatening injury. He always worried when he left to help Hawke, but he left the clinic in the hands of his trusted assistants, with a good supply of potions, injury kits, bandages--everything he could think of to help. So far, everything had been fine, and Maker willing, it would continue to be so.
As Anders started to shut the second door, a movement in the shadows caught his eye. Mentally preparing an offensive spell, he called out, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Hawke stepped uncertainly out of the shadow.
Anders exhaled and let the spell on the tips of his fingers dissipate. “Hawke,” he said in relief. “What are you doing here?”
She had a lost expression on her face that Anders couldn’t remember ever seeing before. It caused him a measure of alarm.
“It...I...” She let out breath. “My mother and Gamlen were fighting. Screaming at each other. I just...I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought maybe...you wouldn’t mind if I came here.”
Anders was touched and honored that he was the first person she came to when she had nowhere to go. “Of course you can come here. You can always come to me.”
He held open the door, but Hawke just shifted uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t intrude on you. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s so late...”
Anders was exhausted, but the only thing he wanted right now was to be with Hawke. He hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted it until she turned up on his doorstep. “I’m still awake,” he said. “Please. Sit and talk with me awhile.”
Hawke lingered a moment, glancing back the way she’d come from, then came inside.
Anders locked the second door. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said quietly.
“I just left Bethany there to deal with them all by herself. Maker, what kind of sister am I?”
“An absolutely devoted one.”
“A coward who can’t even deal with her own family.”
“You’re human. We all need a break sometimes.”
Anders gestured to a cot, and they both sat. A part of Anders wished he had nicer accomodations to offer her--his clinic wasn’t exactly the most impressive bachelor pad--but he knew that was foolish. Hawke knew what he was and what he did. “Your mother and uncle fight often, then?”
Re: A Little White Lie (18/?)
anonymous
May 23 2011, 22:44:50 UTC
“Every so often,” Hawke said, looking away. “Mother--well, she’s not really angry at Gamlen. I think--it’s Carver. She misses him so much. She just gets overwhelmed and she needs some way to let it all out. And Gamlen--well, he makes himself a convenient target.”
Anders noticed the break in her voice when she said her brother’s name. “You miss Carver, too, don’t you,” he said, and then felt like an idiot. Of course she missed her brother.
Hawke laughed mirthlessly. “Every day. He was such a tit, Carver. He blamed me for everything. I swear, if he were here, he’d be telling me how Ostagar was all my fault. And Maker’s blood, I’d give anything to hear him say it.”
“I wish I could have known him.”
“You only say that because you didn’t know him. Trust me on this. He would have given you hell.”
Tears hovered on her lashes, but her face was hard, as if she knew they were there but refused to let them fall.
Without thinking, Anders reached out and brushed one of the tears aside. Autumn’s chin jerked up, her eyes meeting his.
“I’m sorry you lost him,” Anders murmured. “I know how much you love your family. I know how deeply you must feel his loss.”
They were lucky to be so adored by her. In his most selfish moments, Anders would give anything to have Hawke feel the same devotion to him.
“Ah, balls,” Hawke said, and Anders wondered how many other phrases Hawke had picked up from Isabela. “What about you, Anders? Have you ever lost anyone?”
Anders hesitated. “You mean besides Karl?”
Hawke winced and looked at Anders with wide eyes. “Karl. I’m so sorry, Anders, I wasn’t even thinking.”
“It’s all right. Karl is the only one I’ve lost...that way.”
Hawke took a breath. “Did...you love him?”
She sounded a little nervous. Was that because she had feelings for him and was jealous of his first lover? Or was he just imagining what he wanted to hear?
“You mean, was I in love with him? I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it. Talking would have made it...too real, somehow. When we were together, we could forget that out in the world, we were nothing but Templar slaves. He was there for me when I needed him, and I...I tried to be there for him.”
Anders stopped talking, because he hadn’t been there for him, not when it counted. He’d promised to help him, but in the end, he hadn’t stopped the bloody templars from ripping his mind away. The templars didn’t give a fig for the person that Karl had been. His warmth, his laughter, his brilliant wit--they meant nothing to those who imprisoned him. He was just a mage, just another receptacle for evil, just another troublesome problem to be disposed of.
They certainly didn’t care that he could kiss with the ferocity of a tiger, that his eyes crinkled whenever he cast a healing spell, that he was as gentle and patient a teacher as he was a lover....
Hawke’s voice cut off his train of thought. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I should have been able to save him for you.”
Anders would always live with his own guilt, but he hadn’t expected it from Hawke. “What could you have done?” he said. “You can’t possibly think this was your fault. He was already Tranquil by the time I asked for your help.”
“I don’t know,” Autumn replied. “Something.”
Anders sighed. For a moment, they both sat in silence.
“Who else did you lose?” she asked softly.
Anders blinked.
“You said Karl was the only one you lost ‘that way.’ Who did you lose...other ways? Do you mean your parents?”
She didn’t miss anything. It was almost unnerving how well she knew him sometimes.
“I lose people,” he said. “I used to lose them when I escaped the Circle. People don’t like to be left behind, abandoned.” That was how things had ended with Karl, the first time. He’d been dragged back to discover that Karl hadn’t been willing to wait for him, couldn’t forgive Anders for leaving him behind. “But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be locked up like that, always watched by the templars. It’s simply not in me. I...don’t know if you can understand.”
Hawke nodded. “I don’t think I could stand to be locked up, either.”
Of course she understood. She was right. She might not be a mage, but it wasn’t in her nature to stay imprisoned any more than it was in his. In their core, they were the same in that.
“No, that’s not what I mean. What do you think of him?”
Anders frowned.
“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he? He’s got nice eyes.”
Then he got it. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face.
“He...has nice eyes?”
“You didn’t notice? He’s not your type, then?”
“I...is he your type?”
Hawke chewed on her bottom lip. “I can’t decide.”
The Dumar boy? What in the Maker’s name could she see in him?
“He’s all wrong for you,” Anders practically choked. “You need someone who can take care of himself. You could never be happy with a man who had to hide behind bodyguards.”
Autumn Hawke and the viscount’s son? He couldn’t even picture it.
And then, probably because it was the last thing he wanted to do, he did picture it. The images rose unbidden to his mind. He saw all the things he wanted to do with Hawke, but with Saemus Dumar in his place. Saemus’s soft, babied hands running over the curves of Hawke’s body. Saemus’s fingers peeling open her clothing and slipping inside, Hawke’s head tilting back in pleasure. Saemus trailing kisses down Autumn’s neck as she moaned...
Anders’s hands balled up in fists.
“You need someone capable. Not a pampered noble who would be appalled at the things we have to do just to survive. Did you see how the battle unnerved him? He’s spent his life locked behind gilded doors. That can’t be what you’re looking for...is it?”
Hawke sighed. “No, you’re right,” she said. “That’s pretty much what I thought, too. I just...I get tired of being alone, you know?”
Anders knew. He knew that if he wasn’t what he was, neither of them would have to be alone. If he were a normal man, he could be the one to chase away her loneliness. He could hold her in his arms as they explored each other with hands and lips and tongues. He would make love to her all night long, slowly, tenderly, until she was trembling and gasping his name. And afterwards, he would be the one to lay in her arms, limbs entangled, as she told him all her innermost secrets, every unknown dream and hidden fear. He would listen and stroke her hair and promise her he would always be there for her.
But he was what he was: an apostate and a fool who had let a Fade spirit into his head. Justice was always with him, an inescapable presence in his mind, hard and unforgiving. Anders didn’t know how his story would end, but he knew whatever fate awaited him, it wouldn’t be happy.
He had doomed himself. He didn’t have to take Hawke down with him.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Hawke was saying. “It’s not like the viscount’s son is going to get romantic with a Fereldan refugee.”
For some reason, the idea of Saemus rejecting Hawke made him angrier than anything else. “He’d be a fool to refuse you,” Anders said. “You’re much too good for him. You’re beautiful and strong and...so, so kind....”
Hawke smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she said. “I...guess I’ll get Isabela to take a look at this chest.” With that, she hurried away.
Hawke and Saemus Dumar.
Anders was a Grey Warden. He was used to nightmares.
Now he would have one more.
-----
When Saemus was returned safely to the viscount and both sisters were back in Lowtown, Hawke brought the idea up to Bethany.
“So...what did you think of the Dumar boy?”
“The viscount’s son?” Bethany considered. “He certainly was good looking, but I rather had the impression he was interested in men. What with him running away with a male Qunari and all.”
Horrified, Hawke put her head in her hands. “Maker, I’m terrible at this!”
Bethany laughed and put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, Sister. The right person will come along. For both of us.”
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Dang plotbunny! *goes chasing after it*
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It would be funny if hawke tried to hook him up w a dude! lols
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also I have included an image regarding my feelings on the quality of this post. I hope you find it satisfactory!
http://i51.tinypic.com/28uu29y.png
<3
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Thanks to all you wonderful anons for staying with me. I hope to have another part up soon.
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The Maker apparently did not hear her, because the hum of voices in the next room, which had been growing steadily in volume for the past ten minutes, now broke out into out-and-out yelling.
“...don’t know how you could gamble away everything we had! It’s not just about money. That estate was everything we had of our history! Our parents, our grandparents, our great-great-great-grandparents all lived in that house, raised their children there!”
“Don’t start pretending like that matters to you, Leandra! You left! Ran off to Fereldan with that bloody apostate to raise your brats. If family was so important, you wouldn’t have abandoned it!”
“You want to talk about family? You put my children into servitude! For a year! What do you know about family?”
Bethany’s voice, quieter than the others, drifted in, “Let it go, Mother. Please. It’s not worth fighting...”
“Better I left the lot of you to rot outside the city, then? That’s gratitude for you. I had to pull in favors just to get those opportunities for your useless kids!”
Just ignore them, Hawke thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Just go to sleep.
“Pull in favors? My children took care of your debts to those smugglers!”
“And now they take up space, eat me out of house and home! If that estate meant so much to you, you bloody well should have stayed to look after it!”
And suddenly Hawke knew she couldn’t do it. Not one more night spent curled up in bed pretending she didn’t hear them, or pleading uselessly for them to calm down. Not one more night of them shrieking at each other until they had no voices left to shout with. Not one more night.
“My children contribute more to this household than you do!”
Hawke didn’t bother with armor. A pair of trousers, a tunic, her boots, and her sword strapped to her back. That was all she needed. With a bang, she pushed open the door to her room, stormed past her astonished mother and uncle, and slammed the front door behind her.
She stood in the cool night air of Lowtown, face upturned to the sky, and wondered what in the Void she would do now.
She could go to the Hanged Man. She knew Varric and Isabela would still be up. But she wasn’t sure she could muster up enough cheer to deal with them tonight.
There was really only one place she could think of.
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<3 and will be checking in like mad for MOAR!
...Because we all know where she's going, teeeheeeee~
/is so happy
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It was later than usual when Anders closed his clinic that night. A gang fight in Lowtown had left a teenage boy near death, his body mutilated. He’d been carried in by his hysterical mother who pleaded through her tears for Anders to save her boy.
He was lucky the boy had been brought to him before he lost too much blood. Anders had been able to save his life...but the boy’s hand had been chopped off at the wrist, and Anders could not regrow limbs. He worried what would become of the boy now. It would be difficult to work, difficult to fight...would even his gang take him back if he could not be useful to them?
He wanted to berate the boy for joining a gang in the first place--and he had, half-heartedly--but he knew how things were. The gangs offered protection for poor Fereldan refugees with nowhere else to turn.
Anders sighed as he closed and locked the first of the two large doors to his clinic. First thing in the morning, he would go to see Lirene about the boy and his mother. See if there was anything she could do for them.
The mother had been exceptionally grateful. Anders remembered the adoring look in her eyes as she thanked him--and then the way her fingers shook as she reached for the buttons on her dress, offering to pay him with the only thing she had. He’d put his hand over hers, stopping her, telling her she owed him nothing. She’d grown even more worshipful after that, though that certainly had not been his intent.
He would leave the lanterns lit during the night, in case of emergency. Sometimes people would bang on the doors in the wee hours, needing help for some life-threatening injury. He always worried when he left to help Hawke, but he left the clinic in the hands of his trusted assistants, with a good supply of potions, injury kits, bandages--everything he could think of to help. So far, everything had been fine, and Maker willing, it would continue to be so.
As Anders started to shut the second door, a movement in the shadows caught his eye. Mentally preparing an offensive spell, he called out, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Hawke stepped uncertainly out of the shadow.
Anders exhaled and let the spell on the tips of his fingers dissipate. “Hawke,” he said in relief. “What are you doing here?”
She had a lost expression on her face that Anders couldn’t remember ever seeing before. It caused him a measure of alarm.
“It...I...” She let out breath. “My mother and Gamlen were fighting. Screaming at each other. I just...I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought maybe...you wouldn’t mind if I came here.”
Anders was touched and honored that he was the first person she came to when she had nowhere to go. “Of course you can come here. You can always come to me.”
He held open the door, but Hawke just shifted uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t intrude on you. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s so late...”
Anders was exhausted, but the only thing he wanted right now was to be with Hawke. He hadn’t even realized how badly he wanted it until she turned up on his doorstep. “I’m still awake,” he said. “Please. Sit and talk with me awhile.”
Hawke lingered a moment, glancing back the way she’d come from, then came inside.
Anders locked the second door. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said quietly.
“I just left Bethany there to deal with them all by herself. Maker, what kind of sister am I?”
“An absolutely devoted one.”
“A coward who can’t even deal with her own family.”
“You’re human. We all need a break sometimes.”
Anders gestured to a cot, and they both sat. A part of Anders wished he had nicer accomodations to offer her--his clinic wasn’t exactly the most impressive bachelor pad--but he knew that was foolish. Hawke knew what he was and what he did. “Your mother and uncle fight often, then?”
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Anders noticed the break in her voice when she said her brother’s name. “You miss Carver, too, don’t you,” he said, and then felt like an idiot. Of course she missed her brother.
Hawke laughed mirthlessly. “Every day. He was such a tit, Carver. He blamed me for everything. I swear, if he were here, he’d be telling me how Ostagar was all my fault. And Maker’s blood, I’d give anything to hear him say it.”
“I wish I could have known him.”
“You only say that because you didn’t know him. Trust me on this. He would have given you hell.”
Tears hovered on her lashes, but her face was hard, as if she knew they were there but refused to let them fall.
Without thinking, Anders reached out and brushed one of the tears aside. Autumn’s chin jerked up, her eyes meeting his.
“I’m sorry you lost him,” Anders murmured. “I know how much you love your family. I know how deeply you must feel his loss.”
They were lucky to be so adored by her. In his most selfish moments, Anders would give anything to have Hawke feel the same devotion to him.
“Ah, balls,” Hawke said, and Anders wondered how many other phrases Hawke had picked up from Isabela. “What about you, Anders? Have you ever lost anyone?”
Anders hesitated. “You mean besides Karl?”
Hawke winced and looked at Anders with wide eyes. “Karl. I’m so sorry, Anders, I wasn’t even thinking.”
“It’s all right. Karl is the only one I’ve lost...that way.”
Hawke took a breath. “Did...you love him?”
She sounded a little nervous. Was that because she had feelings for him and was jealous of his first lover? Or was he just imagining what he wanted to hear?
“You mean, was I in love with him? I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it. Talking would have made it...too real, somehow. When we were together, we could forget that out in the world, we were nothing but Templar slaves. He was there for me when I needed him, and I...I tried to be there for him.”
Anders stopped talking, because he hadn’t been there for him, not when it counted. He’d promised to help him, but in the end, he hadn’t stopped the bloody templars from ripping his mind away. The templars didn’t give a fig for the person that Karl had been. His warmth, his laughter, his brilliant wit--they meant nothing to those who imprisoned him. He was just a mage, just another receptacle for evil, just another troublesome problem to be disposed of.
They certainly didn’t care that he could kiss with the ferocity of a tiger, that his eyes crinkled whenever he cast a healing spell, that he was as gentle and patient a teacher as he was a lover....
Hawke’s voice cut off his train of thought. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I should have been able to save him for you.”
Anders would always live with his own guilt, but he hadn’t expected it from Hawke. “What could you have done?” he said. “You can’t possibly think this was your fault. He was already Tranquil by the time I asked for your help.”
“I don’t know,” Autumn replied. “Something.”
Anders sighed. For a moment, they both sat in silence.
“Who else did you lose?” she asked softly.
Anders blinked.
“You said Karl was the only one you lost ‘that way.’ Who did you lose...other ways? Do you mean your parents?”
She didn’t miss anything. It was almost unnerving how well she knew him sometimes.
“I lose people,” he said. “I used to lose them when I escaped the Circle. People don’t like to be left behind, abandoned.” That was how things had ended with Karl, the first time. He’d been dragged back to discover that Karl hadn’t been willing to wait for him, couldn’t forgive Anders for leaving him behind. “But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t be locked up like that, always watched by the templars. It’s simply not in me. I...don’t know if you can understand.”
Hawke nodded. “I don’t think I could stand to be locked up, either.”
Of course she understood. She was right. She might not be a mage, but it wasn’t in her nature to stay imprisoned any more than it was in his. In their core, they were the same in that.
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