#also i guess. getting possessed to keep merrill safe (while she was as safe as 6 years ago) is not. the heroic move yall make it out to be. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hawkeish · 3 years

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3. You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke --- for (you know it) Carver/Merrill :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS PROMPT IT IS FANTASTIC, here’s 1400 words of modern Carver/Merrill fluff written for @dadrunkwriting because I have no restraint and too much time <3 I hope you like it!

no CWs, but there’s some swearing (I promise my Hawke siblings love each other, in a brutal way!)

also my modern Merrill’s a postgrad studing Art History & Cultural Studies - repairing the eluvian is her research project.

read on AO3 if you want!

It’s the evening before everything shuts down for Satinalia, and it’s started to snow.

Which would be nice, if only Carver wasn’t stuck outside Merrill’s door, trying not to break a magical mirror which possesses far too many poky bits as it pokes right into his side. Fingers numb with cold, he’s too busy fumbling with the ridiculous amount of keys she gave him to appreciate the beauty of the Alienage in Firstfall. Bedecked with wreaths, shining baubles and flickering garlands of lights, the vhenadahl is like something from a fairy-tale, dusted with a gentle sigh of snow.

Snow, lights, whatever. Any other night, Carver might let himself be enchanted. But right now, he has one priority—get the damn mirror into the damn apartment without breaking it even more.

And yet here he is, falling at the first hurdle: locked out, with Merrill’s most precious possession leaning on him at an angle that’s making him nervous. It’s not exactly going well. But it needs to go well. He promised he’d get the eluvian - carefully swaddled in some enchanted cloth to “protect him”, whatever that means - from her studio at the Viscount’s College of Art back to her Lowtown home in one piece. If he doesn’t, he’s not sure what might happen. He doesn’t want to know what might happen. Her degree? Ruined. A vital piece of her people’s history? Lost. And as for Merrill herself?

She’d probably never speak to him again, and shit, he can’t think of much worse—

Click.

The random key he’s shoved in the lock twists, and the door swings open before him.

“Thank the fucking Maker,” he mumbles, then picks up the mirror and barrels into Merrill’s tiny home.

Merrill’s flat is much like Merrill. As in, modest, pretty, and filled with a frankly terrifying amount of knowledge. There are small cairns of books dotted between potted plants and thrifted armchairs, alongside art prints leaned up against walls and notebooks littering her paint-flecked desk. Though she doesn’t celebrate Satinalia, there are a couple of decorations over the tiny fireplace, too. And—is that spice he can smell?

As Carver carefully sets down the eluvian by the window in the corner like she’d instructed, he catches sight of something in his peripheral vision. Two steaming cups of wine-dark liquid set on the coffee table by the fire, and beside them, a neatly-folded note.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Carver wanders over and gingerly picks up the paper, a frown puckering his brow as he unfurls it.

C. Merrill’s handwriting is pin-point neat. I just wanted to say - I do really appreciate you doing this for me. Creators, there’s no chance I could lift that thing on my own! You really are my chevalier in shining armour. I’ll send you a little something to say thanks. M x

That x does something strange to him; a small chill runs up his spine, and Carver puts the note back down in a fluster. Just as he does, the phone in his pocket vibrates. Still frowning, he pulls it out, then squints at the text that’s screaming up at him from the too-bright screen.

alright dickhead! hope you’re having a lovely day of being a burden on society! did you get the message?

Carver doesn’t need to read the sender’s name to know it’s from his sister.

Go back to making shit coffee for people who’ll never sleep with you, he types. And what message?

Surely Ri wouldn’t mean the note. Why would she know about the note? As far as he can tell, Merrill only asked him for help after Aveline and Fenris made some excuse about being far too busy washing their hair, or dancing round their townhouse full of half-decayed corpses, or whatever the fuck it is that they get up to instead of being friendly, helpful people.

Carver wasn’t the first choice. He never is. Which is fine. Totally fine. He’s used to it. Knowing he’s never a first thought definitely doesn’t itch at the back of his mind, or keep him up at night—

“Maker’s breath,” he scolds himself, trying to focus back on his phone.

And then, just as he presses send, another notification pops up. Unknown number; something in him tells him to tap anyway. When he does, a little jolt of static runs through him, warm and fuzzy and disgustingly sweet.

For you, the new message reads. To say thanks. I knew I wouldn’t need to ask anyone else. You’re all I need for Satinalia. Enjoy! <3

Below it, there’s a link to a playlist. A playlist which, he notices, contains about twenty versions of the same song, All I Want For Satinalia Is You. One’s in Elven. One’s a country version with, inexplicably, some late-night TV host caterwauling over the chorus. One’s by some Orlesian crooner called Michel de Bublé. There’s even one that’s just someone playing the recorder extremely badly over a muffled backing track.

It’s an…interesting mix. As he skips through the songs, though, he can’t help but smile. Whoever this truly ridiculous playlist was meant for is a lucky person. It certainly wasn’t for him.

At least, that’s what he thinks, until he taps back onto his messages app.

Then, his heart does a weird twist in his chest, and the phone suddenly feels like a searing hot coal in his hands. Because, in bold, in the small gap above the text where the sender’s name usually lies, there’s a small line that makes his pulse skip every time his eyes trail over it.

Could this be: Merrill Alerion

Carver nearly drops his phone.

This is a joke, right? It has to be a joke. Carver feels slightly seasick. Quicker than he knew his fingers could work, he’s sent a crappy screenshot to Marian.

This???????

A few seconds pass.

Ri replies with a voice message. The voice message is a long, horrible, joyous screech.

Fuck, Carver thinks. “Fuck!” Carver says, and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

His heart’s going wild, now; his palms are sweatier than they’ve maybe ever been. The mulled wine suddenly seems like a very good idea: he takes one in each hand, trying to convince himself he doesn’t fucking hate star anise. Time to chug—

Halfway through his first glass, there’s two light knocks at the door.

Carver freezes, glass still at his lips. Then, he realises that in his haste to get the mirror in, he’s left the door open. Panic spears through him, until he remembers that he’s a six-foot-stupid ex-farmer and could definitely take on a burglar. And that burglars probably don’t knock.

Still, this is Kirkwall. Better to be safe than sorry. Carver holds his breath as he sets the glasses down as quietly as he can and starts towards the door. He’s not punched anyone in a while. Maybe the anxiety coursing round his body from that text will finally give him a decent right hook. Maybe if he catches someone trying to steal Merrill’s stuff, it’ll add to the whole chevalier-in-shining-armour thing. Maybe—

A gentle gust of wind flutters through the apartment, and the door swings open, just as Carver’s barely steps away.

When he sees who’s behind the door, he makes a tiny squealing noise that instantly makes him want to cease existing. Rosy-cheeked and smiling, Merrill stands before him. Flecks of snow are caught in her dark hair and on the chunky knitted scarf wrapped around her neck, and her eyes are glittering beneath the Satinalia lights strung up on the street outside. It’s as if she’s haloed, glowing, a beacon against the dark winter’s night.

She looks beautiful.

“Merrill,” he breathes. “I thought you were...”

“Studying?” She’s smiling, and he feels a bit dizzy. “I was. But I finished - just in time, I think! Did you get the message?”

“Uh—the playlist?” he offers. “Yeah.”

“But did you get the message?” she asks again, a grin tugging at the edges of her lips.

Carver frowns. There was a message to get? “I—what?”

“Creators,” Merrill says, half-laughing, glancing up at something above him, then back down. When her gaze locks with his, he feels his heart flutter. “Hawke said making you a playlist would be very smooth. I’m not sure I’m ever very smooth. I guess I’ll not trust your sister again.”

“Smooth?” he echoes, like an idiot.

Then, he remembers what’s hanging above her door. A sprig of mistletoe, tied up with a neat red bow.

Merrill answers him with a laugh, and a kiss, and Carver thinks oh.

#carver x merrill #dragon age 2 #modern au #ish writes #thank you so much for the prompt!#I hope I did it justice #dadwc #da drunk writing circle #and yes I did listen to different versions for 2.5 hours as I wrote for 'research'#hollyand-writes #answered

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faerites · 4 years

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25, 27, 35, 84 & 89 for your hawkes? bonus question because i love hawkes: what do they think of the other companions? but if that would be too long an answer you can leave that one lmao

under cut for length, i got Too Many Hawkes

25. what is their biggest flaw?

ashes — ooh. his loyalty to people is usually a good thing, but i think it’d probably be his most obvious flaw, too. he can definitely take it too far; for example, if his friend is blatantly in the wrong in a situation, yeah he’ll try to persuade them to see/do differently but if he really can’t then he’ll always back them up rather than sticking to what he believes is right, even if he doesn’t like it. when anders blew up the chantry (yeah yeah #AndersWasRight etcetc but) it’s not something ashes would approve of if it had been anyone other than a loved one behind it; he Massively prefers diplomacy and peace and he doesn’t condone loss of life in any situation. but specifically Because it was anders he’ll work himself to the bone defending him and making excuses even if it puts him in a situation he really doesn’t want to be in amulet — god where to begin. i love her dearly but she is Made of flaws. it could be her materialism and how spoiled she is; she does have her reasons for it (she grew up poor and on the run, so when she finally has money and luxury she clings to it for all it’s worth so as not to lose it again), but she definitely takes it way too far. she’s obsessed w wealth and physical possessions and she places way too much value on having and getting them. it could also be her obliviousness; she really just Can’t Tell when she’s getting on someone’s nerves or when she’s being unfair or when she’s doing something wrong, and if someone says anything about it to her she’ll treat it as a personal attack that came out of nowhere. she’s also super self-absorbed, which ties into her materialism — she doesn’t do it intentionally, and she’s a genuinely sweet person if you dig under it all, but most people don’t see that side of her and the parts they Do see are pretty off-putting. ryan — Self-Deprecation Central Baby. they honestly jump to extreme lengths to blame themselves for everything; there are things like their mother’s and brother’s deaths, which they’ve convinced themselves they could have prevented if they’d been faster, stronger, more skilled, etcetera, but it’s also like… if something bad happens on the other side of the country and they hear about it, they’ll be like if only i’d been there, i could have helped, oh god it’s my fault which is. ridiculous. it Very much weighs them down and they are Not a happy person (after everything they begin to convince themselves that everyone close to them Will get hurt bc they’re like. a curse on people which is not fun) tristan — once again, where to begin. he’s just a bastard through-and-through. i guess i’ll go with his indifference. he just Does Not Care about you or your problems and he’s not going to pretend he does. he can watch awful shit happening in front of him and not bat an eye because, well, it’s got nothing to do with him. being named champion is A Nightmare because now people think they can ask him for help with the dumbest shit and he Hates it. he’s also super cold; he genuinely doesn’t particularly place any value on the lives of people he doesn’t know, and he Literally Has straight-up killed people who just happen to get on his nerves (see: javaris tintop). rowan — hm. probably his stubbornness. once he’s formed an opinion on something, or he plans to do something, you Cannot dissuade him from it no matter what, and no matter who the person trying to is. it’s gotten him in danger, it’s gotten his friends in danger, and it’s gotten innocent bystanders in danger.

27. what is their biggest strength?

ashes — his compassion. he’ll take you in off the streets and cook you a warm meal if you need it, he’ll help you out in any way you ask no matter what he’s doing, he’ll stitch you little gifts out of the blue for no particular occasion. he’s filled with a lot of love and he has no compunctions about sharing it around; he just wants everyone to be happy and safe. amulet — her generosity. she’s self-centered in a lot of ways, like i described in the last question, but she’s also genuinely charitable. she loves Giving to her friends and feeling needed and appreciated; she’ll help you with money, she’ll buy things for you at the slightest indication you like something, she’ll give you clothes and do your hair and makeup for you (along with some obliviously harsh comments about how awful it all looked before and how she has to help you fix it). ryan — it feels a little like repeating ashes’ answer, but their kindness. same as he does, they’re filled with love, and they want to make sure everyone gets more than their fair share of it, whether they know you or not. they’ll bankrupt themselves donating to people, and they’ll help out more than they can handle until they’re exhausted and worn, and they’ll never ask for anything in return. tristan — his intelligence or his honesty. he’s quick-witted in a street-smart kind of way; he knows how things work, is pretty good at reading people and seeing past what they say and how they act on the surface, and he can calculate what the most effective way of doing something is in Seconds (this can, of course, be bad too; he can fling a knife into someone’s head at the perfect angle before anyone else has even had time to realise what he’s considering). as for his honesty, he just really doesn’t see the point in lying; it’s not that he has a moral objection to it, but lying just feels useless to him. he doesn’t care enough about things to want to hide them or cover them up; if he doesn’t like someone, he’ll just tell them straight-out; if he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll say so; and if he wants to hurt someone, the truth can often do that far easier than a lie. rowan — probably his courage and loyalty. pretty self-explanatory; he’ll fight to the death for you, and if you’re loyal to him, he’ll be loyal to you until the end.

35. what is the easiest way to annoy them?

ashes — anyone being needlessly cruel and unkind is the obvious one, but that just saddens him more than it annoys him. i’ll go with people escalating things, choosing violence where it doesn’t need to be chosen; if there’s a peaceful solution viable, and someone decides to go in guns blazing instead of trying it first, he has no respect for that. amulet — honestly, just not appreciating her. if she feels ignored or put-down or disliked, she will throw something of a tantrum over it. she comes off as arrogant to people sometimes, but it’s more of an intense need to be liked and wanted; if she feels like she’s not getting that, it upsets her very easily and she’ll lash out and get defensive. ryan — any kind of injustice or bullying will fire them up. it’s pretty hard to anger or annoy them, but that’s a fairly sure way of managing it; they Do Not respond well to seeing the brutality mages have to endure, especially picturing bethany and anders and merrill and her father in those situations, and they do end up having little arguments with aveline here and there about how the guards treat city elves once their eyes are opened to that. they hate stereotypes and prejudice. tristan — just. be up in his face and don’t respect his boundaries. talkative people piss him off pretty quick (he’d Hate amulet). he doesn’t like people getting over-familiar (he is Not Your Friend, and he does not appreciate you acting like he is), and asking him for favours is also guaranteed to irritate him, especially if you Keep Doing It for things you could easily handle yourself or with someone that is Not Him. rowan — templars. templars. circles. anti-mage rhetoric. he Will get into a bar-fight over this. he will get fired up and passionate and Fervent over this in casual conversation.

84. which deadly sin do they represent best?

ashes — it’s kind of unexpected, but i’ll go with lust. somewhat by process of elimination, because he doesn’t really fit any of the others, but it does make sense from a certain perspective. amulet — easily greed, with pride and envy close behind. ryan — sloth. more the mental kind than the physical. DepressionTM. tristan — wrath. rowan — probably wrath too.

89. what is their d&d alignment?

ashes — neutral good. amulet — lawful neutral throughout the game, but post-game after travelling for a while with isabela and loosening up a bit she probably falls into true neutral. ryan — neutral good. tristan — chaotic evil? chaotic neutral? i could see arguments for both. rowan — chaotic good.

#oc: ashes hawke #oc: amulet hawke #oc: ryan hawke #oc: tristan hawke #oc: rowan hawke #asks #i'll answer the bonus in another post

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kirkwall-group-therapy · 4 years

Text

City of Blood, ch 7

[Mature content warning, Act 1: cursing, adult topics, violence]

Chapter Seven: Blood Magic

Blood magic was unusually common in Kirkwall, and had been causing problems the entire time Hawke had lived there. But the issues only got worse as time went on, and Hawke only found herself more and more involved with each passing day. In the next several weeks in particular, Hawke had handled a number of different jobs involving mages and blood magic. The outcome of the most recent job had ignited a rather heated debate, when Hawke had sent a number of mages to the circle instead of letting them escape.

“What if they were blood mages?” Hawke asked, bringing the loud argument into the Hanged Man.

“What’s this?” Merrill asked as the group approached. “You know there’s nothing wrong with blood magic. It’s all just a bunch of superstition, really.”

“Merrill, there are two other apostate mages right here, one of them possessed no less, and even they agree that blood magic is too dangerous,” Aveline said.

“Not so loud, Aveline,” Bethany whispered, looking around the fairly empty tavern.

“That’s not the point,” Anders said.

“I’mmm just going to be over here, not arguing …” Isabela whispered and sat down at a corner table.

“How could you just turn them over to the templars like that?” Bethany asked.

“Do you think the templars would have just said, ‘oh gee golly, I guess those blood mages got away. Guess there’s nothing we can do about it?’ No! They would have continued to hunt them, and when they found them, the templars would have killed them. I saved their lives by staying the templars hand, and returning them to the circle,” Hawke said.

“They are in just as much as danger in the circle,” Anders cried. “And there they are defenseless. If you had let them go, they could have escaped.”

“And endangered others when they inevitably turned to blood magic,” Fenris said.

“You don’t know that!” Anders yelled.

“Anders, these mages have never lived outside the circle, not since they were children. They don’t know how to defend themselves, or find food, or shelter, let alone how to hide from the templars,” Hawke said.

“What about Feynriel? You could have let him go to the Dalish,” Bethany said.

“A fine point, Bethany,” Anders said.

“He was literally plagued with demonic dreams, on a nightly basis! The Dalish don’t have templars. What if he wasn’t strong enough to fight them? And for how long could he maintain that kind of strength? What if he ended up killing the entire clan? The circle is the only place that can help him,” Hawke said.

“I appreciate that you were only trying to protect them,” Anders said, though clearly still angry, “but it still should have been their choice.”

“How can you not understand the danger that they possess, when already we have found the dismembered bodies of missing women?” Fenris asked.

“We don’t know that blood magic is involved!” Anders said.

“Anders,” Aveline said. “Even you must admit that the evidence so far leaves very few other possibilities.”

“Can we stop fighting? I don’t like it when we fight,” Merrill said.

“Yes, thank you Merrill,” Anders said. “I have had enough of this argument myself.” Anders marched out of the Hanged Man and slammed the door behind him, startling the other patrons.

“Shit Hawke,” Varric said coming down the stairs. “How did you manage to piss everyone off?”

“Personally, I think Hawke made the right decision,” Aveline said.

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Isabela whispered. Aveline turned around and shot Isabela a glare.

“Would you turn me in like that?” Bethany asked.

“Bethany,” Hawke pleaded.

“No, I want to know if my own sister would turn me in to the templars,” Bethany continued.

“If I thought it was the only way to save your life, yes,” Hawke said.

“I see,” Bethany said. “I’m sorry Varric, but I find that I’m not in much of a mood to be around my sister right now.” And she too left.

“Andraste’s tits,” Hawke cursed. She sat down next to Isabela and laid her head down on the sticky table, face first. “You’d think that I had just blatantly murdered a group of school children and their pack of adorable kittens.”

“I think you mean a litter of adorable kittens,” Varric corrected.

“You’re in a difficult position, and they are adults. They have to option to leave at any time. And whether they want to admit it or not, you’re the only one trying to protect everyone. Anders would let them all go free, regardless of who they might have already killed. And I, I would not be as merciful as you,” Fenris said. He meant well, but he wasn’t helping to ease Hawke’s frustration.

“Ugggh,” Hawke groaned, muffled by the way she was sitting, face down on the table.

“IIII think, it’s time for some drinks,” Isabela said.

“I have to return to the barracks,” Aveline said. “Good luck with Bethany later.” Hawke replied by banging her head on the table.

Hawke kicked rocks and bits of discarded trash as she slowly walked the three blocks back to Gamlen’s house. The journey didn’t take long enough. She circled the block once, and joined a few kids who were kicking a ball around, until their mother called them inside for supper. Hawke sighed, still not wanting to return home to face both Bethany and her mother, who undoubtedly had already heard the story from Bethany, and who of course would take Bethany’s side. She couldn’t avoid them forever, though she did actually contemplate seeing if Aveline or one of the others would let her stay with them for the night. But that was childish, so she accepted her fate, and went inside.

“Charlie, is that you?” Her mother called from the kitchen.

“Yes mother,” Hawke replied, less than enthusiastic.

“Is it true what Bethany says?” She asked, walking into the foyer wiping her hands on a raggedy old towel.

“Depends on what she said, I suppose,” Hawke smarted back.

“Did you really say you would turn her over to the templars?!” Leandra asked.

Hawke sighed heavily. “Did she also mention that turning her over to the templars would only be as a last resort, if it was the only way to save her life?”

“Charlie, really, I don’t know what’s gone on between the two of you, but you’re her sister. Her sister!” Leandra said.

“Which is why I would do just about anything to keep her safe. Mother, I’m really not in the mood to discuss this. I’ve already gotten the third degree from Anders and Bethany today. Can we just, not do this right now?” Hawke asked.

“Fine,” Leandra replied curtly. “Supper is ready. We shouldn’t keep Bethany or Gamlen waiting any longer.”

Supper was unusually quiet. Gamlen, who was usually quiet, did most of the talking. Bethany and Hawke remained silent. Hawke left the house to get some fresh air after supper, unable to handle the passive aggressive sighing and whispered whimpering, and the looks she was getting from both her mother and her sister.

“Guardsmen Donnic,” Hawke said as he approached her.

“Please, call me Donnic,” he said.

“Alright, Donnic,” Hawke replied.

“What are you doing out so late, and in your heavy armor no less?” Donnic asked.

“I need some fresh air, and thought I might clear out some thugs while I was out,” Hawke said.

“I’m not sure if there is such a thing as fresh air in streets of Lowtown,” Donnic said, looking around.

“Mm,” Hawke agreed. “Air then. I just needed air.” Donnic looked at her questioningly. Surely she knew that the air was everywhere, but it was Hawke that he was speaking to.

“Hawke, why don’t you join the guard? You seem to enjoy patrolling the streets as it is, and you are certainly capable of handling yourself. I know Aveline would love to have you in the guard,” Donnic suggested.

“Haha, yes, so she likes to tell me. Repeatedly. But the guard isn’t big enough for the two of us,” Hawke said. “Annnd, I wouldn’t be very good at taking orders from Aveline, truthfully.”

“I confess, I don’t understand. Were you not a soldier in the King’s army? I thought Aveline had said as much, but perhaps I misheard,” Donnic said.

“No, you are correct. I was a soldier in the King’s army. Aveline and I both fought at Ostagar, though I didn’t come to know her until later. But I … I can’t live that kind of life anymore. Fighting at the orders of someone else. Not after Ostagar. Not after Loghain,” Hawke said.

“I see,” Donnic said.

“It sounds like Aveline talks about me a bit?” Hawke asked.

“Yes. I mean, no. Truthfully, Aveline and I don’t speak much,” Donnic said, sounding strangely flustered. “But when we do, you often come up in conversation.”

“I’m flattered,” Hawke laughed.

“Aveline thinks very highly of you,” Donnic said.

“Mm, sometimes,” Hawke said.

They continued walking together through the dimly lit streets of Lowtown, in silence for a time.

“So how have your patrols been recently?” Hawke asked.

“Significantly better since Aveline became Captain,” Donnic said. “I cannot thank you enough Hawke, for what you and Aveline did for me that night.”

“It’s what I do,” Hawke said, trying to brush off the compliment.

“How has your … eh, work, been lately?” Donnic asked.

“I feel like I’ve joined the templars,” Hawke said, starring at the ground and kicking a rock.

“Oh?” Donnic asked.

“I’ve been chasing down and retrieving escaped mages, killing blood mages, and trying to find a bunch of missing women,” Hawke said. “What I don’t understand is with all the resources and forces that the templars have, why they aren’t able to do this on their own? What are they fucking doing, if they aren’t doing these kinds of things?”

“I’m sure glad that we don’t have to deal with blood mages,” Donnic said looking wide eyed. “That’s a royal mess, right there.”

They reached the road that split off and headed up to Hightown, and Hawke stopped. “Donnic, I think I’m going to wander around Hightown for a bit, before I call it a night.”

“Stay safe. Maker’s blessings,” Donnic said, and gave a short wave as they split off.

The Hightown market was empty and quiet. Peaceful. More peaceful than Hawke had hoped. The whole night was turning out to be a frustrating disappointment. Where were all the thugs? She was supposed to be able to take out all her frustration on them. Hawke wandered into the square in front of the Viscount’s office, the square it shared with the old Amell estate. Hawke sat on the ground, leaning her back against a stone pillar, and stared at the estate. This was their goal. Titles, fancy dresses, parties, and petty-coats. Silk slippers. Hawke couldn’t deny that it would be nice to be rich, but there was so much about the high society life that she wasn’t interested in. A bigger house, one that they didn’t have to share with Gamlen, would be nice. And at least Hightown did actually have fresh air. It even had trees and gardens. She plucked at grass that had grown between some of the paving stones beneath her, and just sat there.

A cool breeze flowed down the streets softly. The windows in Hightown were lit up and glittering off of the cool, grey stone walls of the buildings. The Chantry bell sweetly tolled midnight. She didn’t realize she had been out so late.

“Hawke?” Fenris said as he entered the square. “What are you doing here?”

Hawke didn’t reply immediately, searching for the words, and the energy, to reply. Fenris sat down next to her. He took a sip from the bottle of wine he was caring, and passed it to Hawke. She took a sip and passed it back.

“Still agonizing over the earlier argument?” Fenris asked. Hawke nodded.

“How come you don’t protest more whenever we do something that helps mages? I know there are many decisions I’ve made that you haven’t agreed with.” Hawke asked. “I mean, you certainly speak your mind whenever you don’t agree, but you don’t unleash a storm upon me like those two did today.”

“Hm. I supposed it’s because I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, Hawke. You’re … nothing like what I imagined, what I thought you were at first. I didn’t expect I would ever find someone like you. In truth, I had convinced myself that people like you don’t even exist. No, I don’t always agree with you, but it’s abundantly clear that you do not make decisions lightly. You always try to find a way to protect the innocent, no matter who they are. You always seem to know what the right thing to do is,” Fenris said.

“I feel like I never know,” Hawke said. “I try so hard, but it seems like all I do is piss someone off every time.” They were silent for a moment.

“Why do I have to be the leader?” Hawke asked. “Why does everyone follow me? Why can’t everyone follow Aveline, or Varric, or you?”

“Me?? Hah. That would be a sight,” Fenris said. “You were the leader when I met you. Why, you would have to answer for me. But from what I’ve seen since we met, everyone follows you because everyone respects you. You consider everyone, and all of their opinions, and try to make a decision that is good for all. Anders and I would both make lousy decisions that considered only our opinions. Aveline’s stance would be too harsh, too black and white. Varric is great guy, but he doesn’t have the backbone for it. He doesn’t want to be responsible for making decisions.

More importantly, you’re decisive. You simply take charge, whether you mean to or not. You do not waste time. You do not sit idly by waiting for someone else to do something, if you are capable of finding a solution. Too many others may say they want a position of leadership, but in truth they are too afraid to act. You don’t wait, you jump right in.”

“That’s only because I have no patience,” Hawke said. Fenris laughed.

“Do you truly not want to be the leader?” Fenris asked.

“I really truly don’t want to be the leader,” Hawke said.

“But there’s power in being the leader,” Fenris said.

“I’m not interested in power,” Hawke replied.

“Then what are you interested in?” Fenris asked.

“I don’t know anymore,” Hawke said. They sat in silence, enjoying the gentle night air.

“That’s the Amell estate, isn’t it?” Fenris asked after a time.

“Yes,” Hawke replied.

“It looks nice,” Fenris said.

“It is, or so I’ve been told,” Hawke sighed.

“There seems to be more bothering you than just the previous argument,” Fenris stated.

“I … I just … I feel lost,” Hawke said. “I feel so out of place here in Kirkwall.”

“I imagine you must miss Lothering a great deal,” Fenris said.

“I don’t know that I miss Lothering,” Hawke said, staring up at a cloud. “I hadn’t lived at home in several years, so I can’t say that I even miss our home. But I … I miss Fereldan. I miss my father. I even miss Carver,” Hawke laughed. “Carver was always so serious, so surly. I never understood why. Father wasn’t like that. I just, I think I just miss feeling like I belonged somewhere. Here, I have to fight tooth and nail so that I can carve out a better life for Bethany and mother. But it feels like I’m trying to force us to be something we’re not. Or at least, something I’m not.”

“Like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole,” Fenris said, then realized how it might have sounded. “I apologize, I wasn’t trying to make a lewd joke.” Hawke laughed.

“I finished that short book you gave me,” Fenris said. “’See Spot Run.’ “

“Oh? That’s great,” Hawke said.

“I enjoyed the pictures as well. I’ve always liked Mabari,” Fenris said.

“I have another book like that,” Hawke said. “I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”

Fenris sighed. “I will be glad when I am able to read more substantial material. Thank you again, for all your efforts, Hawke.”

“Of course,” Hawke said and smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I am glad of your friendship, Hawke,” Fenris said. “You know, had I known Anso would find me such a capable woman, I would have asked him to look sooner.”

“I’m glad I’ve been able to help,” Hawke said blushing a little, caught off guard by Fenris’s compliment. “And I’m glad to have you as a friend as well.”

“I’m sure you must miss your friends in Fereldan,” Fenris said. “Have you been in touch with them much, since you came to Kirkwall?”

“They … No. They all died in the blight,” Hawke said.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Fenris replied.

“Me too,” Hawke sighed. “Bethany is my closest friend though. She always has been. The age difference has sometimes been challenging, and,” she sighed again. “And her being a mage has its own set of problems.”

“Your father is the one who taught her magic then?” Fenris asked.

“Yes. He grew up in a circle and later left after he did some work for the Grey Wardens. He never talked about it though, or why the circle let him go. Bethany and I suspect that the circle didn’t actually let him go. He never specifically stated that they did, and he always danced around it. But was very skilled. He had an extraordinary talent for magic, beyond most mages as I understand it,” Hawke said.

“It seems he was an equally skilled teacher,” Fenris said. “I must admit that Bethany’s level of control is beyond what I had imagined possible.”

“But you still think she should be in a circle?” Hawke asked. She wasn’t angry. She was exhausted over the topic, in fact. She was so tired of the quarrel over magic. If Hawke only knew then how things would end.

“I … yes, I still believe Bethany would be safer in a circle. You and your mother would be safer too. What a tragedy it would be for her to lose the battle against demons, to lose all that she is, to transform and lose her identity, for her magic to be turned against the ones she loves. I … I just think the risk is too great,” Fenris said.

“Living in Kirkwall has … Maker, it’s been awful mostly, haha,” Hawke laughed. “But it has really made me rethink everything about the circles.”

“Oh?” Fenris asked.

“When we lived in Fereldan, we actually knew a number of apostates. Since my father was one, and then my sister, apostate wasn’t a scary term, or a frightening reality. They were rather normal. At least in our area. We still had to watch out for the templars, but that’s just it. They were the danger, not the apostates. And the circles were tortuous prisons. People talk a lot about blood magic when they speak of apostates, but we never knew any who practiced blood magic. Many towns folk were comfortable keeping their silence to protect a few apostates, but they would never protect a blood mage. For that reason alone, all the apostates I knew were scared of blood magic and condemned it harsher than anyone else. Back then, I never would have considered sending Bethany to a circle. But it was also easier to avoid the templars in Fereldan, and they were more … more humane, than the ones here seem to be.

And yet I feel like everywhere we turn, we find ourselves fighting blood mages. They don’t even give us a chance to end things peacefully. Anders keeps saying that it’s only because they’ve been backed into a corner, and I can understand that to a certain degree. It’s just become a viscous cycle, and it’s a huge. fucking. mess. But seeing some of these mages, and hearing about Feynriel’s dreams, I admit that I’ve started to feel that maybe the circles aren’t such a terrible place. Although the circle here sounds especially terrible,” Hawke said.

“I feel for mages, to be burdened with such a curse. And obviously not all mages are like those in Tevinter, but they all face the same temptations and the same dangers, and thus are all a potential threat to all others,” Fenris said.

“Fenris?” Hawke asked. “Do mages in Tevinter ever turn in to abominations? I guess, obviously they do sometimes, but is it common? We’ve seen it here recently with all these blood mages, but every time you speak of Tevinter mages, you only ever mention their greed and abuse of power. You’ve never mentioned any who became abominations. But with the kind of freedom they have, I would have expected to hear stories about abominations simply running wild in the streets every day.”

“Mm. True. Honestly, I’m not sure how common it is. The only ones I’ve ever seen were ones that willingly became them. They purposely summoned a demon into themselves,” Fenris said.

“In all my years, before moving to Kirkwall, all the apostates that we knew, none of them ever became abominations. And in Tevinter where mages live freely, you say that they only become them if they are seeking to become one. It seems to me that, generally speaking, becoming an abomination is actually a rare thing. Here, I think the issue is that conflict between the mages and the templars is so great, that it’s driving both sides to use extreme measures. And in Tevinter it sounds like abuse of power, both magical and political, is the real issue,” Hawke said.

“Hm. Perhaps. But I would not risk the lives of innocent people on an unconfirmed possibility,” Fenris said.

“I said I would turn Bethany over to the templars if it meant saving her life,” Hawke said. “But I honestly don’t know if I could.”

“It speaks highly of you that you are so loyal and protective of your sister,” Fenris said. “It is very admirable, even if it is possibly foolish.”

“I wish you would tell her that,” Hawke sighed.

“I believe she knows that you would do anything to protect her. In time I believe her anger will dissipate and she will see what you were trying to say,” Fenris said.

“I’m so tired of mages and templars, Fenris,” Hawke said. Fenris laughed.

“Indeed,” he replied.

They talked a little longer until Hawke started to get cold, her butt completely numb from sitting on the hard stone street. Her energy was quickly fading, and her eye lids felt heavy. Hawke wished Fenris a good night, and made her way back to Gamlen’s house.

__________________________________________________

This fanfic is based on the amazing Dragon Age games, specifically focusing on the DA2 game. Thank you EA/BIOWARE for such amazing games & characters!

I’m new to tumblr, so please bear with me as I figure out the best formatting.

#dragon age #da2 #f!hawke #blood magic #fenris #anders #aveline #isabela #merrill #bethany #champion of kirkwall #fanfic #2020

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