The First's Sister

A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, drum roll please. I have to announce that this story… FINLAY has a direction. There’s a plot arch there will very soon be a plan written down and everything. All those little one shot scenes in my head suddenly just fell into place. I can’t wait! Now I know where I’m going to take this it’s going to start moving forward, not this chapter though, we need to finish at least this quest. Plus I need to get Hawke and Lyna in that place where they can acutely talk to one another.

 

So were ganna start just where we left off last time. :D Please R&R

 

Chapter 6

Hawke’s POV

 

Fire curls deep in my chest, growing in intensity with every passing moment, burning against my lungs in a desperate plea for air and travelling up my throat to stings behind my eyes.  I have nothing to distract me but the pain and I am left just standing there, waiting for the warden crouched silently on the floor to openly disapprove of my relationship with her sister. Effectively ending any hope I might harbour for it’s continued existence. My eyes stinging as I stare at nothing, needing to be anywhere else, listening to any other conversation in the whole a Thedas.

 

Why would Merrill ask such a question? To openly ask Lyna if she disapproves of our union, to give her space to condemn the best thing that has ever happened to me. When it could have easily just been left alone. A discussion never to be had, just held as a tension between the Grey Warden and myself, something that by all rights Merrill should have been unable to even notice.

 

"Would it make any difference?" Lyna asks calmly.

 

My heart begins to hammer so hard in my chest that I am certain all of my companions can her it bashing against my plate armour in a bit to burst from my chest.  The pause that follows is impossibly long, a heavy silence that threatens crush me where I stand. My jaw clenches of it’s own violation so tightly that I hear the joint creak in protest and still I cannot draw breath. Still unable to move and physically distance myself from the display.

 

“No.” What? At the softly spoken word my eyes shoot to my elven lover who is not paying me any attention. Her gaze is on her sister, and for the longest heartbeat they do nothing more than look into each other’s impossibly bright eyes.

 

It’s then that I see the edges of Lyna’s lips pull up into a smirk. “Good.” She says and abruptly opens the door. Turning to run her practiced eye along the mineshaft and thankfully either obvious to or ignoring the effect their exchange has upon me. I reach out to the wooden over hang to steady myself against it, my lungs finally allowing me to draw breath and my knees threatening to give out from under me in relief. Thank the maker for small mercies.

 

Unfortunately for me Isabella, who has remained silent up until now does not miss the action and is it not within her nature to let such a reaction go unnoticed. “Don’t often see you out of breath Hawke.”



I shoot her what I hope to be one of my more intimidating glares. Though all she does is pull her full lips into an amused grin, remaining in her relaxed pose with her back leaning against the wall.

 

Out of the corner of my eye I see Merrill making to stand from her crouched position only to be stopped by the other elf’s hand pressing against her shoulder. “What’s the matter?” She asks dutifully lowering herself closer to the ground.

 

Lyna’s eyes have not left the inky darkness on the other side of the open door. She turns her head slightly and I see her ears twitch. Just once and the movement was barely there, however it is a practice that I have never seen before in either Merrill or Firenze.

 

“Do you hear something?” Merrill gently prods, having also noticed the strange movement of her ears but completely unfazed by it.

 

Lyna’s head shakes in a negative gesture. “Not a breath.” She says sounding disturbed by the realisation.

 

“Surly that’s a good thing?” Isabella says at my side and I find enough strength to push off from the wall to stand on my own two feet.

 

Lyna then makes a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat, her back still facing me so I cannot see the expression on her face. “Why bar the door then not post a guard?” The three of us fall silent, presumable both Isabella and Merrill are finding it equally difficult as me to come up with a logical answer to the Warden’s question. Lyna’s hand reaches upwards to once again take the shaft of Merrill’s staff in her grasp and pull the head closer to the floor, illuminating the ground. She reaches out, plucking the damp earth between her forefinger and thumb and examine it, running her two digits together so the dirt freely falls at her feet.

 

“Okay.” Isabella starts, becoming increasingly frustrated. She has never been one to be able to stand around idly and we have made her do so for several minuets now. “I’m beginning to think you have a mud fetish.”

 

“That may be.” Lyna says, a smile once again laced through her voice. “But how many mines have you been in with freshly dug floors?” Lyna finally taking her eyes off the dank tunnel turns her head to look over her shoulder at us her eyebrows raised in question.

 

I turn my gaze to Isabella just as she turns to me, shrugging her shoulders to show her confusion to the statement; which I fear must be showing on my face. “Perhaps they kicked up some dirt when they marched back in here.” Isabella says and then sighs, her very short fuse quickly coming to an end. “I don’t know Warden. Does it really matter?”

 

Lyna’s eyes are on the floor and she finds a shovel propped up against the wooden wall. “They didn’t kick it up. They dug it up.” She takes the spade turning it around and resting her hands high up the shaft she jabs it into the earth.  With a loud clatter the leg hold trap springs up from beneath the freshly dug earth, the moment making it jump into the air throw the earth that was covering it all around out feel, a single glisten of sharpened steal passes into my vision as it caches on the limited light source a fraction of a heartbeat before deadly metal teeth strike the thin length of wood with such a force that it shatters on impact.

 

“Oh balls.” Isabella exclaims and I must say that I agree with her. While underground bear traps are difficult to spot at the best of times. If these creatures have taken the time to dig them in one of us could very likely be going back to Kirkwall with one less limb. “Is there any other way in Hawke?”

 

“A few, but none to my knowledge connect with this tunnel.” I say crossing my arms across my chest, seriously considering coming back after nightfall to face the blasted things in the open air, where they have had less time to make such preparations.

 

“I can get us in this way.” Lyna says pushing herself gracefully to her feet and taking the time to brush off her knees. “I just need a studier trigger.” She turns to make her way out of the alcove only to stop and look up at me expectantly. It takes me a moment to realise I am firmly in her way and I step to the side to let her pass. She throws me a highbrowed, amused smile and disappears around the corner.

 

Merrill also stands from her crouch, trying to look anywhere but at me. Something I had noticed her doing from the moment Lyna had mentioned she could not become an adult within her clan because she failed to marry. Implying that Merrill had at the very least had once been close enough to someone to enter into such an arrangement.

 

“Oh, tension.” Isabella says, doing nothing to alleviate it. “Bugger that.” She swiftly turns to follow the Warden back into the yard calling out to her as she goes.

 

So we are left alone and in silence, save for the slight shuffle of her toes against the loose earth. I let my eyes run over her nervous form. Remembering all the other times she jumped to an explanation without being asked, all I would normally be required to do if stay quiet and listen intently to her quickly spoken words. Something is different this time, for some reason she refuses to broach the subject. Whether it be her sisters presence or the nature of the secret she has been keeping.

 

Her eyes flick up to meet mine for only a second before they once more fall the to ground at her feet. Though she only lets me see her bright pools of green for a mere moment it is enough to see her fear within them. She fears me, or rather she fears my reaction. 

 

After taking a moment to check the other two are out of earshot I drag my booted feet to stand before her, putting my steel graves directly in her line of sight. My gauntlets squeak as the plates of metal grind against each other so I can rest my hand against her shoulders. She flinches slightly not expecting the gentle contact but does not pull away. “Merrill.” I say trying to remain gentle.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She starts still speaking to our feet. “There never seemed to be a right time and it was so long ago that...”

 

My gloved palm presses against the side of her neck and my thumb pushing against her chin to turn her face skywards as she being to speak almost to quickly for me to understand. Leaning down I press my lips to her cutting off her fearful ramblings, being unable to hear such an emotion in her voice especially when I am the one who put it there. I pull back and when I open my eyes I am pleased to see that the action has at the very least calmed her enough for her to be able to meet my gaze. “Slow down.” I request quietly, only now noticing that her hands have migrated up my chest to rest against the cool steel of my breastplate.

 

Unshed tears glisten in her eyes and they dart from side to side, searching my face. “You’re not angry?”

 

“About you being married?” Even though I see her bit her bottom lip so she cannot correct me on the term she nods. “No. Very surprised and a little hurt that you didn’t mention it, but not angry.”

 

She lets out a shaky breath. “I never thought about it. It just didn’t seem important. I certainly didn’t mean to keep it from you.” Her eyes still search out mine and I remain quiet, waiting for her to spring to a clarification. I am not kept waiting long. “We were little more than children really. So much so we didn’t understand. But the clan needed a first, that’s why I was given to them and you cannot be a keepers first if you are Da’halen.” I feel a scowl spread across my face. They just gave her away? Passed her around between the clans like she was nothing more than a story to be shared. “It means child.” She clarifies, misreading my expression.

 

I make no move to correct her not wanting to inadvertently offend her or the ways of her clan, something I must admit I have very little knowledge of. “Do you have any other surprises for me?” I ask.

 

“Urm.” Her eyes hit the low ceiling deep in thought. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think this was important until it was said out loud.”

 

With a shallow smile I shake my head, convinced that this will not be the only shocking revelation that will be uncovered while the Grey Warden remains in Kirkwall.  Slowly as not to catch her in the folds in my armour I run my hands around her back to press her against my chest in a brief embrace. “I can accept that.”

 

“… Its… Pathetic.” Isabella’s exasperated voice filters to my ears from outside, indicating the return of the rest of out party.

 

“People need help. Someone has to.” Lyna argues back. I give the elf in my arms a further squeeze and rest my lips against the top of her head, pulling back so her sister will not witness the tail end of the exchange. “Looking after number one all the time is no way to live your life.”

 

I brace myself for the explosion, knowing that this is a touchy subject for the Pirate but find that my fears are ill founded as both round the corner and come back into view. With Isabella pointedly staring at the shorter elf in disbelief. “Yes, but why does it have to be us?” It is odd that Isabella would not completely dispute the statement. I have had this discussion with her many times and have received nothing but thinly veiled sarcasm.

 

Lyna shrugs and quickly squeezes to the front of the group carrying a long shaft of iron in one hand. “Has to be someone.”

 

“Said like a true hero.” Isabella’s taunt catches a nerve within the Warden who shots her gaze over her shoulder only to be met by the pirates amused expression.

 

“The only hero’s I know are dead.” The elf’s tiny hands reach above her head for the lantern hanging at the top of the doorway and she quickly strikes a flit to light the paraffin, bathing us all in a warm glow. “Alright then. We go in single file and you need to walk in my footprints.”

 

Isabella shows her teeth in a grin, nodding at the instruction but still unable to resist a jibe at the Warden’s expense. “Doubting your skills?”

 

A single raised eyebrow is her response before Lyna turns towards the doorway, bending her knees to lower her lantern to the ground as soon as she passes the threshold she uses the long tube of iron to prod at the ground in search of hidden traps. I can’t help but think that Lyna’s solution to our problem is a little on the simple side but after hearing another pair of steel teeth clatter shut I have to admit it is effective.

 

With Isabella just in front of me and Merrill just behind, holding the illumination of her staff close to the floor so we are able to see the rouge elf’s footprints in the freshly dug earth, we slowly make our way down into the mine. The level ground near the doorway very rapidly falling into a steep decent, my heavy sabatons pressing into the damp ground and threatening to slide into the back of the other two women with every step.

 

Thankfully the two rouges remain quiet, Isabella choosing to hang back a few paces to give Lyna enough space to hunt for the deadly traps in a wide arc. The warden finds three further traps laid for us, before pushing against the close door into the next chamber.

 

The room we walk into is much more caverns than the tunnel we left behind. Flecks of silver glisten from deep within the rocks in the dim light and after Lyna is happy that we will still keep our feet we fan out. My eyes searching into the darkness around us and I am frustrated to find that I an unable to see more than three feet from soft glow of the lamp in Lyna hand.

 

“Any idea where that goes?” The elf asks, her arm outstretching to point into the gloom.

 

“Where what goes?” The pirate at my side says leaning forward to squint into the darkness. “I can’t see a blasted thing.”

 

“The creators gave you a bum deal when they gave you those Shemlin eyes.” Lyna says, provoking a small giggle from Merrill. “You should get a refund.” She turns her head towards the pirate, her blue eyes catching the dim light as it passes and flash impossibly bright in the darkness. “There’s a tunnel. Come on.” Abandoning her caution approach she begins to stride in the vague direction of where she had been pointing. Pulling far enough ahead to be swallowed by the gloom, only the echo of her confident footsteps the tiny speck of light from her lantern belay her position in the large chamber.

 

A sound early similar to that of a twig snapping in the forest rings through the room echoing off the walls and ceiling. Up ahead I watch Lyna stop in her tracks and look down at her feet. “Oh.” Is all she says and her ridged posture has me quickening my steps. Another crack of wood and a cry of fright hit the air and the Grey Warden is quickly swallowed up by the ground and taken from my sight, replaced by a shaft of shining light that is almost blinding against the murky cavern.

 

My sword slides easily from its sheath at my hip and I approach the jagged hole my companion had fallen through. After shielding my eyes against the brightness so I am able to allow my eyes to adjust my gaze searches out the fallen elf, finding her lying face down at least ten feet below out feet. With a groan of protest she pushes against the floor to lift her torso from the ground and shakes the debris from her hair. “Ow.”

 

“Well.” Isabella starts, her voice laced with her smirk. “That was clever.”

 

“Remind me to thank for you’re your concern.” She with several heavy breaths she pushes herself up to sit back on her hunches, one arm reaching round to rub at the shoulder joint of the other. Hey eyes search the ceiling and find the three of is looking down on her. “I’m fine, by the way.”

 

“Never had any doubt of that.” The pirate says only smiling wider at the wardens incomprehensible grumble from below.

 

“Maybe we could throw you a rope.” Merrill states in excitement, at first failing to see the key flaw in her plan. “If we had any rope.”

 

“There has to be another way down.” I say hopefully.

 

Below us an echo of what I can only describe as a strangled scream pieces the air and has Lyna shooting her gaze begin her. “Oh great.” With another grumble she pushes herself up onto her bent knee and her sharp blades slide from their scabbards to rest easily into her hands. “I could do with some help down here.” Before I know it she’s on her feet, dropping into a defensive stance and pushing into a sprit so she leaves out sight.

 

My eyes catch Merrill’s and I realise a split second to late exactly what she intends to do. All she does is step forward and she falls down the fresh crevice made in the ground my eyes shoot downward following her decent my heart once again hammering against my breastplate. I needn’t have worried, she lands gracefully on bent knees a spell already changed and ready at the head of her staff. Her clumsiness within the city walls sometimes makes me forget that she is a graceful creature of the trees.

 

I let out a relived breath only to have a flash of white enter my sites and Isabella follows suit, her knees bend on impact and she pushes herself into a forward roll, her swords slipping from her back and into her hands in a single graceful movement.

 

I grunt to myself in frustration, knowing that my own decent will not be as elegant as that of the others. Handing myself over to the inevitable I unhook my shield from my back, letting it slip into my hands so I am at the very least ready for battle. After altering my grip on both of my weapons I check there is no one still in my landing zone then walk forward, my stomach jumping up my throat as I fall.