A Little White Lie: Part 7
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Beta'd by the fabulous Aphreal. I don't know what I would do without her.
Title: A Little White Lie - part 7/?
Author: signcherie
Rating: T for this chapter
Pairing: Anders/f!Hawke
Spoilers: End of Act 1
Summary: Hawke is awkward with men. To get her to loosen up around Anders, Bethany and Isabela tell her that the apostate is only romantically interested...in other men.
crossposting to swooping_is_bad
If you missed the beginning, previous chapters are archived here
And the whole thing on the kink meme.
So this was the old Amell estate. The Hawke estate, now.
The sale on the mansion had gone through just a few days ago, and Hawke was spending all her time working to make it “inhabitable.” Anders was just dropping by to see if he could be any help. He knew she had servants now to help her cook and clean, but an extra set of hands was always welcome, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t seen Autumn in three days and couldn’t wait any longer to see her face. Or so he told himself.
Hawke had told him he could come by any time and just let himself in, so he pushed open the heavy door and entered the mansion. “Hello?” he called into the empty foyer.
This would take some getting used to, Anders thought, looking around. It had already occurred to him that he would no longer have the “I was just in the neighborhood” excuse for stopping by after business visits with Lirene. Was there any excuse he could have to be in Hightown that Hawke might believe?
Anders stepped through the foyer into a large room full of boxes and sheet-covered furniture. Hawke was standing near the back of the room, reading a piece of parchment.
Maker, she was beautiful. It always startled him to see her out of her armor. The heavy plate almost seemed to be a part of her sometimes. That was how he saw her--tough, strong, powerful. Seeing her without the armor was like seeing into her soul to the vulnerability underneath.
She was wearing a little housedress that clung to her body suggestively, accentuating her voluptuous figure. Anders didn’t mean to stare, but his eyes were drawn to her against his will. They lingered on the soft curve of her breasts, the smooth roundness of her backside. The skirt was short, showing her long, shapely legs to exquisite advantage.
Maker help him.
She was chewing on her bottom lip as she read, her brows pushed together. Anders adored it when she bit her lip. It made him want to start nibbling on it, too. Unfortunately, she often started doing it at the most uncomfortable times--like that one time in front of the Arishok.
From the way she was absorbed in her letter, Anders guessed that this was probably one of those inappropriate moments.
He couldn’t keep standing there, ogling her like some kind of lecher. He cleared his throat.
Hawke looked up, startled. “Anders!”
She didn’t look happy, and that made Anders nervous. “Is...everything all right?”
Hawke looked at the letter in her hands, then back at him. Wordlessly, she held it out.
Confused, Anders crossed the room and took the letter from her fingers. The wax seal was broken, but the imprint of the Grey Warden griffon was unmistakeable.
“Oh,” he said.
He looked at Hawke, who nodded mutely.
Anders looked back at the letter. He recognized Stroud’s handwriting. That was a bad sign. If Bethany had survived, she would certainly have written herself. It was short. That was a bad sign, too.
“Oh,” Anders said again, shakily.
He read.
Mistress Leandra Amell,
Your daughter, Bethany Hawke, wishes me to inform you that she has survived the Joining. She is currently in training and adjusting to her new life. She hopes you are well.
Sincerely,
Warden Stroud
Anders first reaction was an immense relief. Bethany had survived.
Relief was followed immediately by dismay. Bethany must be truly upset to refuse to write herself. The letter was addressed to her mother and made no mention of Hawke. Bethany had always adored her sister. If she would deliberately snub her...
She must be very angry.
Bethany was not a cruel girl. If she was that upset with Autumn, it could only mean that she was very unhappy in her new life.
Anders felt awful. This was his fault. He’s suggested this for Bethany, and look what he’d done. He’d destroyed Bethany’s life. He’d destroyed her relationship with her sister.
He remembered how hard his own Joining had been, how difficult it had been to adjust. One day he’d been a regular person--well, a regular escaped mage--and the next day darkspawn taint was coursing through his veins and he was tied to a strict military order with ideals he didn’t share. In peace, vigilance; in death, sacrifice--he’d just wanted to be free, just wanted to live his life the same as anyone else. At least he’d had Raven Surana--a familiar face from the Circle and a kind soul to lean on. Bethany had no one.
Would it have been better if he’d allowed Bethany to die? Maker, he didn’t know.
Anders looked up at Hawke. Her face was blank, expressionless.
“Well,” Anders said, feeling extremely inadequate, “she’s alive.”
Hawke’s face didn’t change. “I was wondering,” she said. “Are there any rules in the Grey Wardens that would prevent a new recruit from writing to her family herself?”
Anders could lie. He could tell her that there was such a rule, and it would make her feel better. But...he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want a deception. She was strong enough to face the truth.
He shook his head.
Hawke took the paper back from Anders. “That’s what I thought.”
There was so much he could say, so much he ought to say, but he didn’t know where to start. So he just said, “I’m sorry, Autumn.”
Hawke looked down at the paper in her hand.
And then she crumpled it in her palm.
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m not. What does that say about me? I should be, right? My sister probably hates me. She must be absolutely miserable. And it’s my fault. I made the decision for her. She was doing what I wanted.”
“There were no good decisions,” Anders murmured.
“I know. And you know what? If I were back in the Deep Roads right now, facing the same decision, I would do it again. I’d hand her over to Stroud, just the same as I did before. And I don’t care that she’s miserable. She’s alive.” Her eyes were burning fiercely. “Misery is temporary. Death is eternal. As long as she’s alive, there’s hope. There’s possibility. There’s chance.”
She couldn’t know how strongly her words hit home for Anders. There had been a time, especially after he’d joined with Justice, when he’d first lost control, that he’d wished he’d simply died in the Joining. It would have been easier than dealing with the fight he faced every day.
But things had changed. He couldn’t quite believe it sometimes, but he was happy now. He owed that to Autumn, mostly. It was true there were days--most days--when he cursed her for being his own personal desire demon, days when he thought he might explode with the frustration of having her so close and never being able to touch her. But she gave him purpose. She looked at him with those generous eyes and saw someone valuable, someone worth her friendship, someone who could make a difference for good in this world. He liked being the person he saw in her eyes. It gave him hope for his own life.
If he had died in the Joining, he never would have shared with her any of the moments that he held so dear. He never would have sat with her in the Hanged Man, teaching her to play diamondback. Never would have bared his soul to her in his clinic in the middle of the night. Never would have held her in his arms, huddled under blankets against the cold of the Deep Roads.
He hadn’t thought there was anything worth living for, but he’d been wrong. He’d been very wrong. Autumn was worth living for, and he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.
Hawke sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Am I crazy, Anders?”
“No,” Anders said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Hawke met his eyes and something passed between them, some shared understanding.
She smiled. “We should go get the others. Bethany’s alive. This calls for a celebration.”
Beta'd by the fabulous Aphreal. I don't know what I would do without her.
Title: A Little White Lie - part 7/?
Author: signcherie
Rating: T for this chapter
Pairing: Anders/f!Hawke
Spoilers: End of Act 1
Summary: Hawke is awkward with men. To get her to loosen up around Anders, Bethany and Isabela tell her that the apostate is only romantically interested...in other men.
crossposting to swooping_is_bad
If you missed the beginning, previous chapters are archived here
And the whole thing on the kink meme.
So this was the old Amell estate. The Hawke estate, now.
The sale on the mansion had gone through just a few days ago, and Hawke was spending all her time working to make it “inhabitable.” Anders was just dropping by to see if he could be any help. He knew she had servants now to help her cook and clean, but an extra set of hands was always welcome, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t seen Autumn in three days and couldn’t wait any longer to see her face. Or so he told himself.
Hawke had told him he could come by any time and just let himself in, so he pushed open the heavy door and entered the mansion. “Hello?” he called into the empty foyer.
This would take some getting used to, Anders thought, looking around. It had already occurred to him that he would no longer have the “I was just in the neighborhood” excuse for stopping by after business visits with Lirene. Was there any excuse he could have to be in Hightown that Hawke might believe?
Anders stepped through the foyer into a large room full of boxes and sheet-covered furniture. Hawke was standing near the back of the room, reading a piece of parchment.
Maker, she was beautiful. It always startled him to see her out of her armor. The heavy plate almost seemed to be a part of her sometimes. That was how he saw her--tough, strong, powerful. Seeing her without the armor was like seeing into her soul to the vulnerability underneath.
She was wearing a little housedress that clung to her body suggestively, accentuating her voluptuous figure. Anders didn’t mean to stare, but his eyes were drawn to her against his will. They lingered on the soft curve of her breasts, the smooth roundness of her backside. The skirt was short, showing her long, shapely legs to exquisite advantage.
Maker help him.
She was chewing on her bottom lip as she read, her brows pushed together. Anders adored it when she bit her lip. It made him want to start nibbling on it, too. Unfortunately, she often started doing it at the most uncomfortable times--like that one time in front of the Arishok.
From the way she was absorbed in her letter, Anders guessed that this was probably one of those inappropriate moments.
He couldn’t keep standing there, ogling her like some kind of lecher. He cleared his throat.
Hawke looked up, startled. “Anders!”
She didn’t look happy, and that made Anders nervous. “Is...everything all right?”
Hawke looked at the letter in her hands, then back at him. Wordlessly, she held it out.
Confused, Anders crossed the room and took the letter from her fingers. The wax seal was broken, but the imprint of the Grey Warden griffon was unmistakeable.
“Oh,” he said.
He looked at Hawke, who nodded mutely.
Anders looked back at the letter. He recognized Stroud’s handwriting. That was a bad sign. If Bethany had survived, she would certainly have written herself. It was short. That was a bad sign, too.
“Oh,” Anders said again, shakily.
He read.
Mistress Leandra Amell,
Your daughter, Bethany Hawke, wishes me to inform you that she has survived the Joining. She is currently in training and adjusting to her new life. She hopes you are well.
Sincerely,
Warden Stroud
Anders first reaction was an immense relief. Bethany had survived.
Relief was followed immediately by dismay. Bethany must be truly upset to refuse to write herself. The letter was addressed to her mother and made no mention of Hawke. Bethany had always adored her sister. If she would deliberately snub her...
She must be very angry.
Bethany was not a cruel girl. If she was that upset with Autumn, it could only mean that she was very unhappy in her new life.
Anders felt awful. This was his fault. He’s suggested this for Bethany, and look what he’d done. He’d destroyed Bethany’s life. He’d destroyed her relationship with her sister.
He remembered how hard his own Joining had been, how difficult it had been to adjust. One day he’d been a regular person--well, a regular escaped mage--and the next day darkspawn taint was coursing through his veins and he was tied to a strict military order with ideals he didn’t share. In peace, vigilance; in death, sacrifice--he’d just wanted to be free, just wanted to live his life the same as anyone else. At least he’d had Raven Surana--a familiar face from the Circle and a kind soul to lean on. Bethany had no one.
Would it have been better if he’d allowed Bethany to die? Maker, he didn’t know.
Anders looked up at Hawke. Her face was blank, expressionless.
“Well,” Anders said, feeling extremely inadequate, “she’s alive.”
Hawke’s face didn’t change. “I was wondering,” she said. “Are there any rules in the Grey Wardens that would prevent a new recruit from writing to her family herself?”
Anders could lie. He could tell her that there was such a rule, and it would make her feel better. But...he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want a deception. She was strong enough to face the truth.
He shook his head.
Hawke took the paper back from Anders. “That’s what I thought.”
There was so much he could say, so much he ought to say, but he didn’t know where to start. So he just said, “I’m sorry, Autumn.”
Hawke looked down at the paper in her hand.
And then she crumpled it in her palm.
“I’m not,” she said. “I’m not. What does that say about me? I should be, right? My sister probably hates me. She must be absolutely miserable. And it’s my fault. I made the decision for her. She was doing what I wanted.”
“There were no good decisions,” Anders murmured.
“I know. And you know what? If I were back in the Deep Roads right now, facing the same decision, I would do it again. I’d hand her over to Stroud, just the same as I did before. And I don’t care that she’s miserable. She’s alive.” Her eyes were burning fiercely. “Misery is temporary. Death is eternal. As long as she’s alive, there’s hope. There’s possibility. There’s chance.”
She couldn’t know how strongly her words hit home for Anders. There had been a time, especially after he’d joined with Justice, when he’d first lost control, that he’d wished he’d simply died in the Joining. It would have been easier than dealing with the fight he faced every day.
But things had changed. He couldn’t quite believe it sometimes, but he was happy now. He owed that to Autumn, mostly. It was true there were days--most days--when he cursed her for being his own personal desire demon, days when he thought he might explode with the frustration of having her so close and never being able to touch her. But she gave him purpose. She looked at him with those generous eyes and saw someone valuable, someone worth her friendship, someone who could make a difference for good in this world. He liked being the person he saw in her eyes. It gave him hope for his own life.
If he had died in the Joining, he never would have shared with her any of the moments that he held so dear. He never would have sat with her in the Hanged Man, teaching her to play diamondback. Never would have bared his soul to her in his clinic in the middle of the night. Never would have held her in his arms, huddled under blankets against the cold of the Deep Roads.
He hadn’t thought there was anything worth living for, but he’d been wrong. He’d been very wrong. Autumn was worth living for, and he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.
Hawke sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Am I crazy, Anders?”
“No,” Anders said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
Hawke met his eyes and something passed between them, some shared understanding.
She smiled. “We should go get the others. Bethany’s alive. This calls for a celebration.”