The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel.
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-- The Waking Sea - aboard the Recon Hawke: This wasn't a big ship, almost all they had on board was fish, and we were in their contraband locker. So why take the ship? Were we the targets? I looked at Anders and Merrill as the fighting sounds got fewer.
We had so many enemies with ships to hunt us, and a huge bounty would multiply that. 'Who' would make for a long list. Templars? Warriors for the Chantry, or Orlesian navies in revenge of the Chantry? I'd never heard of darkspawn using ships. Maybe the Qun? Though the sword-hunter implied they weren't holding a grudge. That left Tevinter as the only powerful country not wanting our hides; I suspected they lost a lot of their slave hunters other than from us, so we weren't of that much interest.
Not the least of these threats was Sebastian, a sneaky bastard if he ever focused. He had to have been the author of that assassin attack in Cumberland, and there we left a trail, a small one I hoped. I could only pray he had other groups looking in other cities and they got in trouble too.
Mouthing the question,
Wait or break out? I checked my daggers.
Merrill shrugged and bowed to me.
Anders looked up and waved his fingers and counted on his fingers to ten-ish. His count said they might be too many, if they were competent or any of another dozen factors like they were using grenades. They could pick us off as we came out, so we would hide and wait.
Figuring out what to do without a crew would come later. Too many people wanted us dead to trust. I refused to think on that.
Gesturing for silence like so many times before, I returned to undermining the latch area quietly.
Feeling a warmth on my back I turned and smiled at Anders. He'd knelt behind me and put his hand there, so not to distract. I wished we could hold each other.
Leaning back against him for a moment, I continued carving the hard wood, jamming my fingers and nicking my hands as I hurried. I'd pause if I heard speech even if it was muffled. It was all tense waiting and sore fingers.
I was listening and smelling for burning as I undercut the hatch's structure, but I smelled no smoke. This seemed to be taking forever. If it came to that, we would fight, but letting the attackers finish looting and go on their way was safer when we had so many enemies. Enemies who might be the ones moving around the ship with the occasional curse and thump of something heavy being moved. Letting them pass over us, or killing them all still leaves us with the problem of getting to shore. What they could be looting puzzled me.
The noises were closer, but Anders gestured with four fingers, and I relaxed a tiny bit.
Then I heard some piercing small shrieks.
My stomach sinking, Ser Mew had a rat that looked nearly as big as he was, and the rat had been trying to get in here with us through one of the water sluices, away from where I heard the searchers. Before I could even gesture I heard the tiniest crunch and the rat was dying. Ser Mew meowed very loudly with pride.
I froze and looked at Anders helplessly.
Anders' face had gone pasty-white, enough to be visible in the dimness. He looked panicked; he scooped his kitten up to encircle and muffle it.
Cupping his cheek, I mouthed that it was fine, and kissed his cheek. I had a terrible vision of him doing something horrible to prevent Templars from finding us by sound. He'd be heartbroken, even if his spirit thought it necessary.
I grabbed Paws' basket and pointed to it, so we could fight when they came. And remove any temptation from his spirit.
Even as we shifted, the silence outside went on far too long before some calls came from above. There was no doubt they heard something.
After a few minutes I heard knocking and the occasional call. I almost wished I was able to open the hatch, just to get it over with. When I looked at them, they looked ready, from Paws to Merrill.
Anders pulled me close, his staff-spear still in one fist as he held me.
The knocking got closer, and they eventually discovered the hatch. Those were definitely swear words, so it looked like the mechanism was just as annoying on that side too. Finally a slit of bright light came through the crack, and I had to blink against the glare.
“Get out here, you dogs... It'll be nice to see who was being smuggled out of Jader these days,” came from one male voice.
“Andraste's tits, they have one of those demon hounds!” one of the five men said when I walked out in the lead, trying to look harmless as I could in armor.
“Belay that, you fool. The First will be done with the inventory and back wondering what these guests have to offer for ransom.
Putting wobble in my voice, I suggested, “I'm the only one with relatives, and mine's not rich.” I felt nauseous, hoping we didn't look salable to slavers. I'd much rather we talk our way out of this.
“They look pretty enough, I'll take either human,” the third smacked his lips and said.
Leaning back against Anders, I worried. I really didn't want a situation where his spirit acted. Out at sea, we didn't really have to worry about witnesses, just getting safely to shore even if we had to give them equipment or money. Still, I'd kill them all before I'd let some things happen. Never again would I risk his sanity for long term strategy.
The first sailor punched the third in the arm, saying, “You'll lose your share if you even suggest this where the First can hear. You, with the pricy armor, does your relative have pull? That might do in place of money.”
Readying myself, I admitted, “Not exactly, my sister's a Gray Warden, no rank or pull there.”
“Piles of riches in those dwarven tunnels,” the second said while rubbing his hands.
“That might do,” the first one said with consideration, “At least we found the damn cat you heard.”
The third one was sent to bring the officer, and a tall, dark-haired, compelling man entered the hold to look at us doubtfully. Nothing more was said, and Anders waved his fingers a little, so our odds were not improving. Another set of boots came down the stairs.
I could only blink.
“Kitten? What are you...? Hawke! And the stick-in-the-mud, too... Maybe I shouldn't have bet on Tevinter at the Falls, but the odds were good and Glowy would have lots of things to blow up there...”
“Isabela!” I launched at her for a hug, glad to see her after four years.
“Captain Isabela,” she managed to say warningly, because Merrill hugged Isabela as well.
I caught a glimpse of Anders hanging back with a too-blank expression. After a moment, I heard a chuckle from Isabela just before a grope.
I yelped and moved back, only to see her grinning at me. The other sailors had already gone, even the last, silent one who left with a smirk tossed in Isabela's direction.
“Why didn't you send a letter at least? I worried that Castle-loon had killed you like that other agent of his tried. Or the Qun got you. I didn't even hear anything from about you and hoped you hadn't been sold, but I didn't have any idea where you'd gone to even look. I...” I knew I was about to start babbling...
“She nearly died a dozen times, run through and more, fighting the Arishok and his men because she wouldn't give you up to them,” Anders interrupted from behind me, sounding angry and close to Justice emerging.
Her face darkening, Isabela snarled back, “Looks like she didn't give you up either. Hawke never would have helped kill that many people. Only fools could think that.”
Anders got too silent with a weight that filled the air around us, so I interrupted. “But more than just fools do, Isabela, even after that many years working for Kirkwall.”
Stepping up against me to put an arm around me, Anders added with a tired voice, “For all my weaknesses, I was prepared to face the consequences of what I did. I made sure they knew I did it alone, and that Hawke was not to be blamed.”
“Doesn't look like that worked,” Isabela taunted him. “Hawke's blamed
more than you. You're a mage, people expect
you to be a blood mage with a demon army at your beck and call. You have that kind of power.”
Anders leaned against me, but Isabela continued in almost a hiss, “Look at you now! Did you think you were going to be the new Andraste, sent to free the mages by swinging your sweet ass to always get your way with Hawke as your puppet? That you'd lead some March of all the mages against the Chantry? When that wasn't enough, you decided you had to also play as the betrayer Maferath to satisfy your sense of drama? You greedy, stupid sot.”
I was worried about Anders and Justice staying calm, but I was getting angry too. Reaching back, I pulled both his shaking arms around me.
Taking a deep breath, I had a question I'd wanted to ask her for years, the one thing I never understood. I'd asked Anders essentially the same question weeks ago.
My stomach hurt with my renewed unease, but then I felt angrier and clenched my teeth. “Why didn't you come to me for help, Isabela? Why the fuck do you people think I won't help you when someone wants to hurt you? I want to help my friends. If I'm willing to work for people I hate if the mission itself will do some good, how could I balk at killing some asshole slaver for my friend's life?”
She paused in whatever she was going to say in a speechlessness I thought foreign to her.
I heard Paws whine beside me and I reached down to scratch his ears. He managed to lick my wrist as I did, which always made me smile.
Isabela spoke finally, “I've been the captain for a long time now.
I decide for ship and crew, unless another is elected.
She'd been all about fun when I knew her, but she must be more serious out here on her own vessel. How much had I really known her on land? But this wasn't really an answer.
Now I wondered, “I wanted to hunt down Castillon if he was a slaver and just end your problem with an assassination if needed. You know Fenris would have helped with a slaver, he might have even smiled...”
I didn't get any laughs from anyone with that.
My stomach clenched, but I added, “Anders doesn't like slavery either, and you would have gotten a laugh at him and Fenris grumbling at each other. That Qun book was like stealing Andraste's own original prophecies. The Chantry would stop at nothing, especially if an enemy had a relic like that. The Qunari waited for years before acting. We could have done something else.”
“It was my book! I bled for it. I lost my sweet ship for it and almost every single member of my crew! They counted on me to get us profit, not swept away to die because those horn heads are that attached to things like everyone else, like us inferior cattle!” Isabela shouted.
Moving closer, I demanded, “And selling out Kirkwall, selling out all of us meant nothing to you? Like that would bring your crew back? Giving that ass Castillon what he wanted would fix it after he sent that shit to kill you? That's sucking up to ass-hole men, and I wouldn't have thought it of you... Captain! Good job, you've rewarded him for being an ass to you. Did he give you a handful of sovereigns too, when he gave you a ship?”
“I made a deal with him for that artifact. I finish my deals,” crossing her arms, Isabela's eyes were flashing with her anger.
“He's a slaver. He'd class you as worth selling if he thought he could get away with it. That makes him another prick to be killed, not catered to!” I glared at her, leaning closer.
Putting her hands on her hips, Isabela insisted, “I could take him, he thinks he can duel. I've killed weasels like him for many years before you ever left Ferelden,
little girl.”
“That type isn't worth a duel, but a shiv in the alley behind a cheap tavern. I'd be glad to help you make it happen, just like any of my friends...”
“Like you helped the choir boy with his last problem?” she said while goating. “Like you went after so many murderers over the years? Do you have any idea what the count of the Kirkwall dead was? Do you even give a piss about all those people, Messere Champion? What's holding you back now, Hawke?”
I'd just touched the halts of my daggers and started shifting my weight, when I was tumbled like a log in a flooded river, ending up against the wall and squished closer against Isabela then ever before.
“I am,” Anders said with his voice so very flat as he pulled me up to a sitting position. “I started a war, even if I didn't want Hawke in it.”
“Isabela,” Merrill said with determination as she stepped closer. “Your path left years before the city became truly lost, a fowl with its head cut off, running around in circles, making a horrible mess on the rug. His actions, wise or not, were part of the weave of that cold and stony place. It became a tainted pool with a foul miasma. Templars and Circle mages drank of it and lost themselves as if they were infected by the Blight.
We all helped fight against the madness, do not judge if you were not there at the end.”
Isabela looked at Merrill as if she'd grown another head.
I sighed and looked down at the floor as Anders dropped to brush my cheek with his hand. My cheeks were hot and wet with fading angry tears and growing embarrassment. To top it off, I started hiccuping and they stopped suddenly as I leaned against my mage, his warmth a comfort.
Not sure if the silence had become too weighted. I managed to say, “I'm sorry, Isabela. I'd been worried for so long when I didn't hear from you. I thought...”
I thought we were closer, that she trusted me more than this. That my friends trusted me like I trusted... But they didn't, did they? Putting my arms around myself, I took a deep breath. I'd just sound pathetic if I even mentioned that cache of things I'd set aside for her, hoping she's come back. Like I was bribing her, instead of hoping she'd return. All I wanted was an apology, but.
“I thought something had to have happened to you and I'd never know what. I'm glad you got your ship and you're fine,” I said, pressing my lips together as soon as I was done speaking. If I said more, I'd probably start a fight again.
“Are we friends still?” Merrill sadly asked what I was now afraid to.
Sighing, Isabela said, “We're still friends, Kitten. Hawke, too...”
A meow came from the basket riding on Paws. Anders opened the basket in a crooning rush.
“Like the other kitten,” Isabela said with a smirk, before waving at Anders with a frown. “He's not Sparklefingers anymore.” Seeing him fuss over the kitten, she looked a little surprised.
I wasn't going to interfere.
“What are you going to do with us, Captain?” Anders asked flatly.
“I haven't decided yet. What would you want, Hawke?” the captain asked.
Looking at the rest of my group, I admitted, “I'd like to exchange news and be left off on the southern side of the sea, near the Dale Lands if possible. We hope to find something for some elves there.”
Isabela's laughter sounded more forced than amused, “Nothing's changed has it? Aside from... all the people who want you dead.” Crossing her arms, Isabela asked, “What were you doing on
The Recon, Hawke?”
“Sweating in the stink, mostly,” I said, miming how bad my clothing stank.
“You didn't have some sort of deal with that reptile captain with his very long tongue?” Isabela asked with a smirk.
Ignoring the innuendo, I said, “Of course I did, smuggling us away was not something for a passenger ship...” I stopped when something under her banter sank in. “No, we only met the ship the evening before we left Cumberland. Why?”
Her laughter was not amused, “You obviously did not learn much about some things while you were with Athenril's gang. The ships owned by Qun members or sympathizers, always have crappy names. They just have to use descriptive names for their people and ships. Not all their people have the horns or skin, some are humans or elves, and as blind to fun as anyone I've met. A ship named for reconnaissance, Hawke?” Her smile was smugly nasty.
Oh, shit. I wanted to beat my head against a wall, but Anders wrapped both arms around me. “I thought we were okay since the Qun... One of the Qun hired me to retrieve some of their blades after the battle.”
“Who knows with them? You're a bit west of Kirkwall right now, and even a fishing vessel knows the Dales are west of Cumberland,” Isabela said with a sneer of contempt on her lips.
Rubbing Anders' hands clutching my stomach, I had to wonder, “I don't think they knew Anders is a mage on the ship...”
“I don't want to know what happens to mages who 'submit to the Qun,' nothing good I think,” Anders admitted.
“Well, it may have been me then,” Merrill said sadly. “They answered all my questions about their boat...”
Isabela winced from what Merrill said.
“They had some plan before you set out, Kitten, as they didn't have anything written about you or their next port of call,” Isabela said with a frown.
I almost asked why she attacked the ship, but realized it was a stupid question. I was trying to remember if anyone had used one of their strange honorifics at me, but none had. We'd only used the new names for Anders and I. The Waking Sea wasn't that wide, where were we going?
I decided I could live without knowing any more about the Qun, I liked being able to change my lot. If they had their way, my father never would have had any children, and my sister and Anders would have no voices.
“Got anything to drink, Isabela? I think we'll need it for these tales,” I said as I rubbed my forehead again.
“No, Hawke. You'll have to suffer like my crew.” Isabela said gleefully.
“Got it.”
Rapidly, we were escorted over the gangplank to her new ship,
The Sea Cockerels, which made Anders snort when he saw it. One of the younger sailors, an elf, started following Merrill with his eyes and she had a tinge of a blush for a moment.
We formally met her officers: the dark one was her first officer. The Second was the one that found us, and to our surprise an apostate who seemed part quartermaster, part healer.
Anders had trouble hiding his smug smile at Isabela, as she'd usually scoffed at his lectures. The Third had enlisted his help at collecting more water using ice spells before we'd eaten.
Over plain food and strong tea in the Captain's cabin, we exchanged tales, at least the generalities that evening. Isabela made her deals with Castle-loon and somehow got a ship. Since he wanted slaver profits I did not want to know more about their deal, but he was on my list for elimination someday if the chance arose for me.
I told her about those things we did to try to stem the tide between Orsino and Meredith. Bethany's kidnapping angered her. The gangs of Templars and blood mages only made her roll her eyes. The dragon swarms, the wardens, and the Crows. The apprentice who only wanted laid, made her laugh, and after a quip from Anders, they both had relaxed enough to trade suggestions for the boy's education.
Winding down, I had trouble starting about Sister Nightingale and her warnings for Elthina, dire enough I added to them with Vael's help. Anders' face was neutral, even when she looked at him. Then the fights and missions for Orsino and Meredith that ended with them arguing in the street again, and Orsino wanting to ask Elthina to break the deadlock.
Remembering the two factions in that small square, I couldn't continue after that, remembering everything all at once and in little scenes. Pulling me closer with my eyes shut, and Anders continued the tale in dry detail.
Only when my eyes opened did I realize he was glowing a bit, but he kept talking, through his expected execution, fighting our way in to prevent another annulment, and defending against the Templar push. The anger when we discovered Orsino certainly knew blood magic when the only ones for him to attack were us. Then the possessed Templar and finally Meredith and the statues that boomed the doom Meredith wanted for me.
I didn't feel as sorry for Orsino anymore since he dipped into Blood Magic but did nothing for his mages.
Her news was of battles and raids, mostly against Qun and Tevinter since they weren't liked. Orlesians for booty. I could agree they sounded as 'dreadfully exciting' as Merrill thought.
The First offered us his cabin and a hammock was to be slung up for Merrill.
But when they left, Isabela held my arm to keep me back, “Hawke...”
Letting Anders go ahead was the hardest thing in weeks, but I asked, “Yes.”
“You've changed, you almost look like you've been beaten, have you? You didn't say anything about where anyone else is. You don't even look right. I was mostly mad at him, dragging you into his mad March, and you don't deserve his death. Cut him loose, you and Merrill can stay here. It'll be fun,” Isabela pleaded.
Squeezing her arm, I smiled and said, “He's mostly right. You never saw my father, a proud and a good man, who only happened to be a mage. He aged too fast, from hiding all he was because of fear. Bethany stayed sweet, but she only had the choice between losing herself in the tower and having so very few chances to be herself. She's much prettier and should have had the chance to marry and have a garden of kids if she wanted to. Circle mages can't, they often suicide. Apostates usually don't, most are caught like Anders. I'd bet most of those were because he didn't know enough about the outside to not stick out. She's in the wardens, but, they can't have families either. Tranquil don't have anything.
“My sister should have been able to just have a normal life as long as she doesn't harm others, isn't that what the Chant actually says? But she had to hide so much. Mother thought she'd have grandchildren by now...”
“What? Haven't you been trying hard enough with Sparklefingers? There's a few positions that might help, from what I heard,” Isabela said with a leer. “I'd be happy to help.”
I could feel myself flush, as I realized how close together we were without my noticing. “N..no, thanks, we're fine.” Seizing on the topic again, I admitted, “Anders is right, even if I sorely wish he'd had better timing and done no harm to innocents in his attack. It had been a slow war of attrition, and the mages are supposed to just take it because someone has authority over them. A battered child is not right, even if the parents are responsible for their care.”
Shaking her head, “You're insane too, Hawke. I could wish you're parroting, but your arguments are less repetitive than all justice and the oppression and the Templar bogey man. So...”
With that she kissed me. I froze, and jumped back, saying after I was several feet away, “Isabela, you know I prefer men.”
She started to pout, and suggested, “It's not like I haven't bedded him. It'll be great.”
I hurriedly added, trying not to babble, “That's fine, I'm sure it would be memorable, but we'll be fine.”
Isabela snickered, “That is an amazing shade of pink, Hawke, I wonder how far... I will have to ask him won't I?
My mouth stopped working, and I wondered if I could flee without being rude.
“Don't worry, Hawke, this does make it pretty sure blood magic isn't making you say and do these arguments.” She was still grinning when I looked up, and she added, “Calm down. That you stammer as badly as ever, says magic's not forcing you to do whatever it takes to win the argument.”
“I didn't win that many arguments since you saw me last, unless it involved blood.”
There wasn't much to say at that point, so I found myself escorted to a small cabin. Swinging above to the side was Merrill. Anders had the bunk, and he helped me get settled in his arms where I felt safe.
It took another three days until we reached a marshy stretch of shore. It was fun at sea, like Isabela always told me, and I got more used to climbing the rigging like her. We exchanged more news about Varric and Aveline and the current and winds in the sea.
I might have found it fun in another life, but I wanted to feel grounded again and make a difference. This would be great if a life of pursuit was all I wanted.
If we have to tromp through Nine Riven Marshes to help, I'm willing to get muck in my boots. Still, I had a small pang when the ship's boat started moving back out into the sea and Merrill waved as long as they were identifiable.
We were alone in a strange coast, with no road in sight. Joy and raptures.
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A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
