DA2 Fic: Undeniable Grief - Aveline/Leandra (G)
Title: Undeniable Grief
Fandom: Dragon Age 2
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Aveline/Leandra
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: Hawke is adjusting to Kirkwall pretty well, and tells Aveline so - she also mentions Leandra was not doing as well though. Kink Meme Prompt. Never written these two before, so let me know what you think. 1383 words.
“Mother isn’t adjusting as well.”
Hawke’s words play on Aveline’s mind as she patrols Lowtown.
She hasn’t been to the Hawke’s home they share with Gamlen for months. She has plenty of run-ins with the Hawkes, and their uncle, she doesn’t need to to go their home. Between the Blooming Rose and The Hanged Man she sees plenty of the whole family.
Except Leandra.
She would see her from time to time in the market place with Bethany. Occasionally at Lirene’s Ferelden Imports helping the refugees or being helped - Aveline wasn’t sure which but that had been some time ago now that she thought about it. The last time she had see the woman had been in Ander’s clinic when she’d had a cold.
With her patrol coming to an end anyway she headed up the dusty steps to Gamlen’s house and knocked on the door, waiting patiently for an answer.
Leandra opened the door looking much unlike the determined woman she had met outside Lothering a year before.
“Neither Marian nor Bethany are home,” the woman said, voice dull.
While she was dressed a smartly as ever, her hair was limp and her face pale, grey circling her eyes as she looked around Aveline but not at her.
“I know,” Aveline said, “I-”
“Gamlen isn’t home either,” she snapped.
Aveline didn’t know but didn’t say anything.
“I came to see you,” she said, before the older woman said anything else.
“Oh.”
There is an awkward pause and Aveline suddenly can’t remember what possessed her to come her and speak to the woman, but the empty look in Leandra’s eyes spurs her forward again.
“Hawke says you aren’t doing so well,” Aveline blurts. “She’s worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“We’re all worried.”
When they remember, Aveline thinks to herself, and it’s a terrible thought and she feels guilty but Leandra can’t read her mind and her hand falls away from the door limply and turns back into the house without a word. Aveline pauses and takes of her helmet before going in after, assuming it was the woman’s intention to invite her in. She places the helmet on Hawke’s desk and looks around.
Nothing has changed.
There’s a little less dust and dirt, a testimonial to Leandra’s work to try and make it liveable but she knows it’s hard, the Hawke’s are sharing a room, while Gamlen sleeps in the other room. Aveline has been in the guard barracks since she got to Kirkwall, she doesn’t mind sharing at all, but she suspects Leandra must hate it. For all their hardships on the run from the Templars in Ferelden, this is something else.
Something worse.
Leandra has sat down at the table, staring into the dying fire and Aveline wonders how often she does that and for how long. Does she just sit and wait for her children and brother to come home?
Aveline moves to add logs to the fire, filling the small metal kettle with water and hanging if over the building flames. She’ll make them both tea and try and coax the woman out of herself. When they first arrived here she was a fireball, she gave the Hawke siblings reason to work each day, and Gamlen hell for losing the family home but now she seems to have lost that fire.
She sat down opposite her, fiddling with the red band around her head for a moment.
“When was the last time you went to the market?”
Leandra shrugged.
“You need to get out of Gamlen’s hovel more often Lady Hawke,” she said, “It’s not healthy here.”
It wasn’t. It was dark and dreary and it was no wonder both Hawke siblings spent most of their time fighting their way around the city or in the Hanged Man.
“I see no reason to.”
“I do,” Aveline said, “so does Hawke, this isn’t you Leandra. When we first got here you were different.”
“You don’t know me,” Leandra snapped.
This had been a bad idea Aveline decided and she pushed away from the table, knocking her chair back as she stood up. Leandra didn’t react and that was what saddened the guard the more she realised. The other woman had been so quick to anger once, to berate but now she just stared at the growing fire as Aveline left the house.
She went back.
She wasn’t sure why.
Possibly the dreams she’d had of the journey across the waking sea. Dreams of crying over Wesley curled up in Leandra’s arms. Dreams of the woman urging Bethany to eat and Hawke to calm down. Dreams of Leandra grieving over Carver when she thought they were all asleep.
So she went back.
She went back and had the same conversation about Hawke no being home, nor Gamlen. Followed her inside and removed her helmet. Stroked the fire, filled the kettle with water for tea and sat opposite her.
“Have you been out this week?” she asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m not sure.”
“Would you like to go for a walk with me? Today?”
“No, thank you.”
She was more civilised today, but continued to stare into the fire as she spoke to her. Aveline sat for a little longer until she heard the kettle whistle and stood to make them both tea. They drank in silence, Aveline watching Leandra carefully and the older woman staring into the fire. But there was less tension this time and when she finally left that afternoon she didn’t feel as bad.
xxx
Aveline kept going back.
Week after week, the same routine. She followed the woman inside, stoked the fire, made tea and sat with Leandra as the table. Some weeks the talked a little - about the market, the Hawke siblings (but never Carver) and Gamlen.
They never spoke about Carver, nor Ferelden, or their husbands.
Aveline didn’t really want to, though she knew Leandra had barely dealt with her grief for her husband before losing her only son. She didn’t push, and didn’t want to be pushed either. She was settling into a nice life, making new friends that were apostates or criminals - thinking about her old life didn’t seem like it would accomplish much for her at least.
She wasn’t sure if Hawke knew that she came to have tea every week. The rogue certainly didn’t mention it when they were together but that didn’t mean anything.
She wasn’t sure if Leandra enjoyed her visits, it was hard to tell when the woman hardly made eye contact and never smile but Aveline wasn’t deterred. She spoke softly, listening carefully, occasionally reaching out when she thought Leandra needed a hand to hold, a little human contact and comfort.
She didn’t react one way or another. Neither leaning in nor pulling away.
Aveline persevered.
One day, Leandra responded.
They finally spoke about Carver. It had been a slip of Aveline’s tongue almost, she’d mentioned that Wesley had a brother back in Ferelden - talking about all three unmentioned topics in one fail swoop because she had been too tired and too sad after a night of bad dreams and a double shift to censor herself.
A brother she had never managed to write to and tell him that his brother had died.
She saw tears well up in Leandra’s eyes and wasn’t sure whether she should stay or go. Whether she should reach out to the older woman once more or sit and wait. She didn’t know if she should apologise or say more and eventually she stood and turned for the door.
“Aveline,” she softly, and the guard looked back. Leandra was looking up at her, sad but smiling. She turned back, moving the heavy wood chair closer to the other woman’s so they could talk quietly, speak their secrets without risk of their voices carrying out the little windows - as if the lost of their loved ones was something they had to keep close to themselves at all times.
“Talk to me.”
Aveline put an arm around her, pulling Leandra close until she was resting her head on her broad shoulder, her entire posture changing as she finally relaxed, even if it was just a little. And Aveline talked, and Leandra listened.
They both cried.