solitae (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
solitae) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
peopleofthedas2011-04-10 11:45 pm
solitae) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-04-10 11:45 pm
The Thing with Feathers, Ch. 2 (DA2 fic)
There's so much fantastic stuff to read that I'm having trouble finding time to write! (I'm pretty sure I'll cope.) You guys are awesome and spurring my creativity massively, so thanks ;)
Also, much love todrakontion for the hard work as a beta.
Title: The Thing with Feathers, Chapter 2
Characters: Lilian Hawke (mage), Isabela, Varric, Anders, Aveline, Fenris, Merrill
Rating: T (I think?)
Word Count: 3500
Summary: "I want everyone in Thedas to have a chance to hear our version of it. This is just the beginning. Mages will be free." - Lilian Hawke. It may have started in Kirkwall, but now the revolution spreads with Hawke and Anders at the center.
In this chapter, reactions and arguments.
--------
The crowd’s roar surged through her, tingling into her fingertips to lend strength to the crackling light filling the sky overhead. Do not falter. She could taste the words on her tongue still, the surge of righteous fury they had provoked in Ostwick’s people rippling through her mind. It fed her power, that rush of adrenaline, but as it dulled in the distance, her energy flagged. With a weary sigh, Lilian backed down from the railing and watched as the last jagged flashes ripped across the night.
Her eyes closed, and she breathed in the silence after the storm, the salt from the sea, the tar on the planks. Sails snapped and ropes creaked, but so far, no one dared to speak, even the crew momentarily struck dumb. She had to smile. It was rare that anyone could render all of them speechless at once. Without looking at her friends, she knew they were all staring at her, expecting her to explain why in all the blighted hells she had just done that. They could wait a moment more.
A slow laugh spilled from her lips to break the moment, and she spun toward Isabela, the pirate perched near the wheel, command in her eyes as she directed her men.The mage’s gaze swept over her appreciatively, lingering on the curve of her hip for a long moment. With a grin, Lilian waved at her as she called out in a sing-song voice, “Perfect timing, as usual, my dear Captain.”
“But of course,” Isabela purred with a wink, before swinging down a short ladder to join her. Her head canted thoughtfully, dark eyes dancing with the light of the lanterns. “It seems that went as planned, no?”
“Indeed it-”
Lilian finally felt the others snap loose of their shock, and suddenly, they began speaking at once. It was such a jumble of voices that Lilian couldn’t make out a word of it. Laughter overtook her as Isabela slunk in behind her, and Hawke let her head fall back against the pirate gratefully, exhaustion beginning to catch up with her. Isabela smirked, arms tightening.
“I- I’ve never seen anything like that,” breathed Merrill, her eyes so wide Lilian thought they might actually fall from her head. She hoped they wouldn’t. That would be messy. “I didn’t know you could do that! Those people were so angry!”
“That was the point,” and there was Aveline, sniping, her voice hard. When did Aveline ever approve of what she was up to? In truth, Lilian wasn’t even sure why she was here...an overgrown sense of loyalty she supposed, since she surely thought this mage business was madness.
“Hawke’s just incited a riot, and seems all too pleased with herself,” growled another predictable voice, and she just smirked as Fenris stalked closer, trying to loom over her, to make her cower for her audacity. Not bloody likely.
“I did,” she admitted with a grin as she reached out to tweak Fenris’s nose, giggling openly when he slapped her hand away with a growl. “Awww, you didn’t like my speech, sweetling? I gave it just for you.”
“Don’t call me that,” his green eyes narrowed, and there was the briefest hint of light ripping over his markings. Lilian arched a brow at the elf as she held his gaze. It was a game they played too often, Fenris still possessed with some belief that he could actually intimidate her, but when her lips curled suggestively and she arched back against Isabela with a small sway, he flinched and suddenly found the deck very interesting.
Varric’s smooth voice broke the second silence, and he mock-scowled at her with his arms crossed over his lovely chest. “Maker’s breath, Hawke. Couldn’t you have told me first?”
“I could have, but I thought you deserved a good surprise.” Lilian cooed, winking at him. “Wasn’t it you who told me history is just the best stories? I thought I’d give you more to work with.”
“You don’t think I have enough already?”
“Maybe, but you can always use new material, right?” She shot the dwarf a wide-eyed look of innocence before grinning wickedly, dangling temptation in front of him. “This could be the best story in centuries, Varric, and you’ll see it all. And tell it.”
The look he shot her was slightly doubtful. “If the Chantry wasn’t going to kill you be-”
“Lilian.” Until that moment, Anders had been silent, standing where he had throughout the speech. Not a word about that halo of fire, not a question of what she had been doing, just stunned and staring through her. Now, his voice, ragged with raw emotion, broke her jovial mood, and she found his dark eyes locked on her face.
Merrill and Varric both swiveled to look at him curiously, while Fenris turned his back on them, instead leaning out to look at the sea. Aveline was still standing stiff and straight as if she was on duty. Perhaps she was. Perhaps it was her duty to stand there and look disapprovingly at Lilian.
Ignoring her, Hawke stretched out a hand toward the healer and offered a reassuring, if tired, smile. “Yes, Anders?”
“Do you really believe what you said there?” His hands shook, his dark eyes never wavering from Hawke though he moved no closer.
Lilian quirked her brow slightly at him, not quite certain what to make of his reticence or his question, but her throat was suddenly dry and something curled in the pit of her stomach. Fear. It was a strange sensation after all that had happened; she had been too angry to be afraid, too defiant to let herself recognize it. Even assaulting a crazed Meredith, she had been more fury than terror, but now, faced by her one of her dearest friends with such a demand in his eyes, she felt it pool at the base of her spine. What if she said the wrong thing?
Her tongue wet her lips, and no one else dared speak, every eye on the two mages, the leaders of this revolution.
“You hesitate,” Anders began to withdraw, and her throat clenched. “Does that mean-”
“No! Anders, listen,” Please listen, her blue-green eyes begged too, and Lilian pushed off Isabela to grab his arm tightly, pulling him a step closer. “You know I’m not sure what I believe about the Maker.”
She felt him begin to crumple. His shoulders slumped, and his chest hollowed before she could go on. “Listen to me, Anders,” she demanded, nails biting at the sleeve of his coat, and he stared at her with dull pained eyes. “But I do believe in this. In you. I do believe that you are a champion of the just.”
All her companions stared, and she wasn’t sure why, unaware of several small tears streaking down her cheeks. “I do believe that Meredith was evil and insane, and turned to stone because of her pride, and that Elthina was a coward and deceiver. I know that more fiercely than I’ve ever known anything in my life, and I know what you did was the right thing. I ...” Blast it, she was crying! What was wrong with her? But the tears refused to stop, even when she swept them away angrily. Get it together, Lil!
If it wasn’t for Isabela’s light touch to the small of her back, Lilian wasn’t sure she would have managed a steadying breath. Even with it, her voice was ragged, pleading, “I couched it in terms of Andraste so they would understand just what you did, so they would understand the necessity. So they would know your courage.”
A quiet Tevinter curse was all she heard above the pounding of her heart as she stared at Anders, ignoring the fact that Fenris had just stalked off in a rage. Lilian never felt so bared in her life, those words pouring out of her the absolute truth. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. His expression was little more than shock, and she felt Isabela’s warm hand soothing gently, the familiar sensation enough to keep her anchored.
“She did it for-” All she heard was the beginning of Isabela’s sharp interjection before she realized Anders was moving. Toward her. Rather quickly, in fact. Lilian’s breath stuck in her throat. Maker’s blood, what was that look on his face? His fingers dug hard into her shoulders, and Lilian braced herself for a sudden shake.
Instead, he just held her there, stripping bare what little mask remained as his eyes scoured her so hard she swore he could see into the back of her skull. She had never been able to lie to Anders, to put him off with mocking dishonesty. He always knew and always called her on it, but this...this was different. It felt as if he was searching for some doubt, some disbelief that she didn’t even know she possessed. Lilian’s head ached with the effort of not blinking.
It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it seemed he would never be satisfied, never look away. As suddenly as Anders’s hands had been on her shoulders, they cradled her cheeks, and Lilian felt rather than saw the smile on his lips. Six years they’d kept a solid line between them, and he obliterated it in less than a heartbeat, his mouth crushing into hers with a low murmur. His fingers curled into her hair, clutching Lilian to his chest, and as her arms wound around his shoulders, she found she didn’t care...whatever purpose the line had served, it was gone now.
The deck swayed beneath her, or perhaps it was her knees, but all she knew was that another warmth pressed up behind her, steadying her. Anders lingered against her lips, parting from her slowly with his mouth slightly open. His fingers against her cheek calmed, and she felt his breath caress her aching lips as he smiled down at her. Lilian hadn’t seen that particular smile in years, and it eased her, that crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the faint twist of his lips, eyes actually twinkling.
Isabela coughed theatrically behind Lilian, and Anders’s head jerked up as the pirate snaked a possessive arm around Lilian, drawing her close. Color suffused his cheeks; he looked faintly horrified until laughter spilled out against Lilian’s back, Isabela’s warm amusement spreading through her until she was giggling too, hand pressed to her lips. Dear Maker, she was feeling slightly hysterical, what with Anders kissing her, the speech and a her lack of sleep.
Anders’s hip suddenly pressed into her, and Lilian looked down, confused until she realized Isabela had hooked her fingers through the mage’s belt and dragged him against Hawke even as the woman’s lips played against the side of Lilian’s neck. She shivered between them, nuzzling into Anders’s hand as her eyes lifted to his face once more, her pleased grin and the tease of her lips on his palm encouraging that smile back to life.
“I do hope,” purred Isabela next to Lilian’s ear, her smirk loud in her voice. Lilian knew that tone all too well, and she winked up at Anders, Isabela’s tug on his belt rocking Lilian between them in the most pleasant fashion. Her toes curled as her lover continued, breath playing over her neck, “you intend to give me one of those too, Anders. I helped her plan this after all.”
His mouth opened once, twice, and Lilian realized she’d never seen him blush quite that spectacularly before. Isabela snickered and caught Lilian’s jaw with her free hand. “Guess I’ll have to take one from Lil instead,” she murmured, lips and tongue just grazing Hawke’s mouth, “this time.”
Isabela’s mouth was warm and demanding in all the right ways, the suggestive touch of her tongue pulling a low moan from Lilian, but it was Anders’s chest she clutched and his fingers curling around her neck. The sensation was utterly surreal, and by the time Isabela let her up to breathe, her legs no longer worked. Only the two of them pressed against her kept her from becoming an undignified pool of mage on the deck. They were doing this to her on purpose! Of course they were, and why was she complaining about that?
“Didn’t,” Her mouth still worked...sort of, the words spilling out in a breathy ragged whisper, “you say something about lightning, Bella?” She smirked up at him as her head lolled back on Isabela’s shoulder, one hand dipping to graze the pirate’s hip slowly.
“Lilian!” Anders choked over Isabela’s delighted laugh. Hawke giggled with her, dark lashes fluttering playfully at the healer, who, despite his protests, had a rather wicked gleam in his eyes.
“What about lightning? You don’t think there’s a storm coming, do you?” A trace of panic hitched in Merrill’s voice, and Lilian choked back a giggle as she buried her face between Anders and Isabela.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this touching scene, Hawke,” Aveline’s voice broke in. Andraste’s hairy arse, couldn’t she at least let them have one pleasant moment? She didn’t sound the least bit sorry! “we have to talk about this.”
Lilian rolled her eyes against Isabela’s’ shoulder. “I thought her getting laid would make this better,” she muttered.
“Hawke! This is serious!” When wasn’t it serious with Aveline? Hawke, you can’t steal the Knight-Commander’s smalls. Hawke, you can’t swear at the Grand Cleric. Hawke, the next time I catch you and Isabela outside...
With a sigh, Lilian disentangled herself from the other two and turned to face the irritated guard-captain. Although, she supposed that was now former guard-captain since they weren’t in Kirkwall any longer. “Then talk, Aveline.” She felt Anders and Isabela arrange themselves supportively behind her, and off to the side, she could see Merrill watching attentively with Varric next to her.
The redhead squared her shoulders, and set her powerful jaw stubbornly. Lilian could already feel a lecture coming on. “You just incited a riot! You can’t expect me to stay and watch you do things like that. Especially if you’re going to celebrate,” disgust crept into the words, “like that.”
“I thought it was a rather appropriate way to celebrate,” Lilian laughed sharply, “and I can expect whatever I want. Whether you’ll stay, however, is entirely up to you, Aveline.”
Aveline pulled an annoyed face at her. “What was the bloody point of that, Hawke?” Her hand shot back toward Ostwick, pointing angrily.
“What was the point?” Lilian asked incredulously, even though she had known this was coming... She could feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets. “You’ve known me how long, and you have to ask me that?” She spat with disbelief.
“The point, Aveline, is that we have to make sure this story is heard. Trust me, the blasted Chantry will tell a very different one that’s meant to end with Anders and me dead, cursed by the Maker. We may die anyway, but before that happens I want those people...” she pointed back toward Ostwick too, her eyes blazing. “...to understand. I want everyone in Thedas to have a chance to hear our version of it. This, Aveline, is just the beginning. Mages will be free.”
Anders’s breathing had quickened behind her as she spoke, and she saw Varric’s eyes widening at the unusual venom in her voice. Merrill’s head cocked curiously, and of those facing Lilian, she was the only one to offer even a hint of a smile.
“This is chaos, Hawke!” Aveline growled. “You can’t want this. You can’t do this.”
“I can, and I have, and I intend to keep doing it,” Lilian snapped. “Do you think change comes in neat little rows with polished armor?”
“This was never going to be a peaceful change,” Anders remarked quietly, sounding as weary of the discussion as she was. “The templars and Chantry have too much power. They would never allow it.”
Aveline’s green eyes flashed furiously at him, her anger at the mage still fresh. When she took a step toward him, Lilian slid in front of her, a hand pressed flat against her breastplate. “How can you support him, Hawke?”
“How can I not?” She hissed. “We weren’t left with many choices, were we? You can be angry with Anders all you like, but I still believe he is right as I have said before, clearly, without reservation.” A hint of a purple-black haze laced with snapping blue wriggled around her fingers.
“This has been happening for a long time. He just brought it to a head. Compromise was only prolonging it. Maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in five it would have come crashing down. I don’t know. All I know, Aveline, is that it was coming. It was inevitable.” Each word snapped in her mouth, and she heard the guard hiss softly when she saw the magic leaking from the mage’s fingers. Lilian defiantly kept her hand right where it was. Let her be afraid.
“But what you’re doing is not inevitable, Hawke,” Aveline’s voice was low as she tried to stuff her anger beneath concern.
“Perhaps not,” Lilian suddenly turned from her to sweep toward the railing of the ship with her arms outstretched. “But it’s this or cower in fear that all the pretty boxes that make up our lives are crumbling, Aveline.” A smile crept over her lips, visions of what might be dancing in her mind. All the possibilities. Maybe it would all end horribly, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. “I never really liked the boxes anyway. The templars, the Chantry, the Qunari...they all want to put everyone in their proper place. But this...”
She spun, laughter erupting from her as she loosed a shimmering bolt of spirit out into the sea. “This is freedom, Aveline, and it’s glorious.”
“Hawke is right,” Merrill’s voice rang out firmly, interrupting whatever Aveline had been about to say. Maker bless Merrill. When they’d all doubted her, the Dalish woman still believed.
“Why do you say that, Kitten?” Isabela encouraged gently, obviously more interested in listening to what the elf had to say than Lady Manhands’ ranting.
Color crept to Merrill’s cheeks, but she stood straight, eyes on Aveline. “People need to know the truth, Aveline. It won’t help to keep stacking lies on top of lies.”
“The truth?” Aveline looked like she was about to explode. “Is that what that was?”
“A version of it,” Merrill answered coolly. “Stories help us understand the truths behind them, and that’s what Hawke was doing.” Lilian felt the elf’s shining eyes slide to her, something in the tilt of her jaw reminding her of Marethari and that this girl should have been a Keeper. “Yours is an important story, lethallin,” she pronounced with the air of one making a vow, “And I’ll make sure people hear it.”
Lilian couldn’t help slipping over to the elf, her arm curling affectionately around her shoulder for a warm hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s not that simple,” growled Aveline. “This could make it worse.”
“It could,” agreed Merrill, “but it is that simple. You always make it more complicated than it needs to be.”
Aveline opened her mouth, and Lilian vaguely wondered just how angry she would be if a sudden surge of magic sent her flying onto her arse, but then she’d have to deal with more yelling. No magic then. Time to use her words. “Enough.”
An obstinate look crossed the redhead’s face, forcing Lilian to punctuate her command with a glare which came all too easily at that moment. “This is the route I am taking. If you want to be a part of it, fine. If not, then you and Donnic are free to go when we arrive in Hercinia as is anyone else.”
Despite her annoyance, she gently squeezed Merrill’s shoulder, glancing away long enough to offer the girl a faint smile.
“Hawke...”
Lilian pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. Why were they even still discussing this? “It’s not up for debate, Aveline.”
“As if debate would change anything now,” Varric remarked quietly, and Lilian felt another small flash of concern. She glanced at him with a tight nervous smile. Don’t you leave me too. But the dwarf winked warmly at her, “I’m staying, Hawke, don’t you worry. Like you said, best story in centuries. I’ll make sure it’s told.”
Relief crept through her, and her smile loosened. “Thanks, Varric.”
“Anytime, Hawke.”
Weariness and the sway of the deck threatened to topple her, so when Anders stretched out a hand for her, Lilian took it gratefully and wound up leaning against his chest with his arms wrapped protectively around her. Maker, he felt good, steadier than her at the moment and solid, and she didn’t care that Aveline and Anders were glaring at each other over her head. Her arms tightened around his waist as his long fingers glided through her hair, that ghost of magic in his touch making her smile even as she yawned.
Isabela chuckled near her ear, her breath playing over Lilian’s neck as she leaned close. “Go with him. I have to find us a safe place to anchor for the night.”
--------
Mods, would it be possible for me to get a "The Thing with Feathers" series tag? Pretty please with Fenris on top?
If anyone is looking for it, Chapter 1 is here.
Also, much love to
drakontion for the hard work as a beta. Title: The Thing with Feathers, Chapter 2
Characters: Lilian Hawke (mage), Isabela, Varric, Anders, Aveline, Fenris, Merrill
Rating: T (I think?)
Word Count: 3500
Summary: "I want everyone in Thedas to have a chance to hear our version of it. This is just the beginning. Mages will be free." - Lilian Hawke. It may have started in Kirkwall, but now the revolution spreads with Hawke and Anders at the center.
In this chapter, reactions and arguments.
The crowd’s roar surged through her, tingling into her fingertips to lend strength to the crackling light filling the sky overhead. Do not falter. She could taste the words on her tongue still, the surge of righteous fury they had provoked in Ostwick’s people rippling through her mind. It fed her power, that rush of adrenaline, but as it dulled in the distance, her energy flagged. With a weary sigh, Lilian backed down from the railing and watched as the last jagged flashes ripped across the night.
Her eyes closed, and she breathed in the silence after the storm, the salt from the sea, the tar on the planks. Sails snapped and ropes creaked, but so far, no one dared to speak, even the crew momentarily struck dumb. She had to smile. It was rare that anyone could render all of them speechless at once. Without looking at her friends, she knew they were all staring at her, expecting her to explain why in all the blighted hells she had just done that. They could wait a moment more.
A slow laugh spilled from her lips to break the moment, and she spun toward Isabela, the pirate perched near the wheel, command in her eyes as she directed her men.The mage’s gaze swept over her appreciatively, lingering on the curve of her hip for a long moment. With a grin, Lilian waved at her as she called out in a sing-song voice, “Perfect timing, as usual, my dear Captain.”
“But of course,” Isabela purred with a wink, before swinging down a short ladder to join her. Her head canted thoughtfully, dark eyes dancing with the light of the lanterns. “It seems that went as planned, no?”
“Indeed it-”
Lilian finally felt the others snap loose of their shock, and suddenly, they began speaking at once. It was such a jumble of voices that Lilian couldn’t make out a word of it. Laughter overtook her as Isabela slunk in behind her, and Hawke let her head fall back against the pirate gratefully, exhaustion beginning to catch up with her. Isabela smirked, arms tightening.
“I- I’ve never seen anything like that,” breathed Merrill, her eyes so wide Lilian thought they might actually fall from her head. She hoped they wouldn’t. That would be messy. “I didn’t know you could do that! Those people were so angry!”
“That was the point,” and there was Aveline, sniping, her voice hard. When did Aveline ever approve of what she was up to? In truth, Lilian wasn’t even sure why she was here...an overgrown sense of loyalty she supposed, since she surely thought this mage business was madness.
“Hawke’s just incited a riot, and seems all too pleased with herself,” growled another predictable voice, and she just smirked as Fenris stalked closer, trying to loom over her, to make her cower for her audacity. Not bloody likely.
“I did,” she admitted with a grin as she reached out to tweak Fenris’s nose, giggling openly when he slapped her hand away with a growl. “Awww, you didn’t like my speech, sweetling? I gave it just for you.”
“Don’t call me that,” his green eyes narrowed, and there was the briefest hint of light ripping over his markings. Lilian arched a brow at the elf as she held his gaze. It was a game they played too often, Fenris still possessed with some belief that he could actually intimidate her, but when her lips curled suggestively and she arched back against Isabela with a small sway, he flinched and suddenly found the deck very interesting.
Varric’s smooth voice broke the second silence, and he mock-scowled at her with his arms crossed over his lovely chest. “Maker’s breath, Hawke. Couldn’t you have told me first?”
“I could have, but I thought you deserved a good surprise.” Lilian cooed, winking at him. “Wasn’t it you who told me history is just the best stories? I thought I’d give you more to work with.”
“You don’t think I have enough already?”
“Maybe, but you can always use new material, right?” She shot the dwarf a wide-eyed look of innocence before grinning wickedly, dangling temptation in front of him. “This could be the best story in centuries, Varric, and you’ll see it all. And tell it.”
The look he shot her was slightly doubtful. “If the Chantry wasn’t going to kill you be-”
“Lilian.” Until that moment, Anders had been silent, standing where he had throughout the speech. Not a word about that halo of fire, not a question of what she had been doing, just stunned and staring through her. Now, his voice, ragged with raw emotion, broke her jovial mood, and she found his dark eyes locked on her face.
Merrill and Varric both swiveled to look at him curiously, while Fenris turned his back on them, instead leaning out to look at the sea. Aveline was still standing stiff and straight as if she was on duty. Perhaps she was. Perhaps it was her duty to stand there and look disapprovingly at Lilian.
Ignoring her, Hawke stretched out a hand toward the healer and offered a reassuring, if tired, smile. “Yes, Anders?”
“Do you really believe what you said there?” His hands shook, his dark eyes never wavering from Hawke though he moved no closer.
Lilian quirked her brow slightly at him, not quite certain what to make of his reticence or his question, but her throat was suddenly dry and something curled in the pit of her stomach. Fear. It was a strange sensation after all that had happened; she had been too angry to be afraid, too defiant to let herself recognize it. Even assaulting a crazed Meredith, she had been more fury than terror, but now, faced by her one of her dearest friends with such a demand in his eyes, she felt it pool at the base of her spine. What if she said the wrong thing?
Her tongue wet her lips, and no one else dared speak, every eye on the two mages, the leaders of this revolution.
“You hesitate,” Anders began to withdraw, and her throat clenched. “Does that mean-”
“No! Anders, listen,” Please listen, her blue-green eyes begged too, and Lilian pushed off Isabela to grab his arm tightly, pulling him a step closer. “You know I’m not sure what I believe about the Maker.”
She felt him begin to crumple. His shoulders slumped, and his chest hollowed before she could go on. “Listen to me, Anders,” she demanded, nails biting at the sleeve of his coat, and he stared at her with dull pained eyes. “But I do believe in this. In you. I do believe that you are a champion of the just.”
All her companions stared, and she wasn’t sure why, unaware of several small tears streaking down her cheeks. “I do believe that Meredith was evil and insane, and turned to stone because of her pride, and that Elthina was a coward and deceiver. I know that more fiercely than I’ve ever known anything in my life, and I know what you did was the right thing. I ...” Blast it, she was crying! What was wrong with her? But the tears refused to stop, even when she swept them away angrily. Get it together, Lil!
If it wasn’t for Isabela’s light touch to the small of her back, Lilian wasn’t sure she would have managed a steadying breath. Even with it, her voice was ragged, pleading, “I couched it in terms of Andraste so they would understand just what you did, so they would understand the necessity. So they would know your courage.”
A quiet Tevinter curse was all she heard above the pounding of her heart as she stared at Anders, ignoring the fact that Fenris had just stalked off in a rage. Lilian never felt so bared in her life, those words pouring out of her the absolute truth. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. His expression was little more than shock, and she felt Isabela’s warm hand soothing gently, the familiar sensation enough to keep her anchored.
“She did it for-” All she heard was the beginning of Isabela’s sharp interjection before she realized Anders was moving. Toward her. Rather quickly, in fact. Lilian’s breath stuck in her throat. Maker’s blood, what was that look on his face? His fingers dug hard into her shoulders, and Lilian braced herself for a sudden shake.
Instead, he just held her there, stripping bare what little mask remained as his eyes scoured her so hard she swore he could see into the back of her skull. She had never been able to lie to Anders, to put him off with mocking dishonesty. He always knew and always called her on it, but this...this was different. It felt as if he was searching for some doubt, some disbelief that she didn’t even know she possessed. Lilian’s head ached with the effort of not blinking.
It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it seemed he would never be satisfied, never look away. As suddenly as Anders’s hands had been on her shoulders, they cradled her cheeks, and Lilian felt rather than saw the smile on his lips. Six years they’d kept a solid line between them, and he obliterated it in less than a heartbeat, his mouth crushing into hers with a low murmur. His fingers curled into her hair, clutching Lilian to his chest, and as her arms wound around his shoulders, she found she didn’t care...whatever purpose the line had served, it was gone now.
The deck swayed beneath her, or perhaps it was her knees, but all she knew was that another warmth pressed up behind her, steadying her. Anders lingered against her lips, parting from her slowly with his mouth slightly open. His fingers against her cheek calmed, and she felt his breath caress her aching lips as he smiled down at her. Lilian hadn’t seen that particular smile in years, and it eased her, that crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the faint twist of his lips, eyes actually twinkling.
Isabela coughed theatrically behind Lilian, and Anders’s head jerked up as the pirate snaked a possessive arm around Lilian, drawing her close. Color suffused his cheeks; he looked faintly horrified until laughter spilled out against Lilian’s back, Isabela’s warm amusement spreading through her until she was giggling too, hand pressed to her lips. Dear Maker, she was feeling slightly hysterical, what with Anders kissing her, the speech and a her lack of sleep.
Anders’s hip suddenly pressed into her, and Lilian looked down, confused until she realized Isabela had hooked her fingers through the mage’s belt and dragged him against Hawke even as the woman’s lips played against the side of Lilian’s neck. She shivered between them, nuzzling into Anders’s hand as her eyes lifted to his face once more, her pleased grin and the tease of her lips on his palm encouraging that smile back to life.
“I do hope,” purred Isabela next to Lilian’s ear, her smirk loud in her voice. Lilian knew that tone all too well, and she winked up at Anders, Isabela’s tug on his belt rocking Lilian between them in the most pleasant fashion. Her toes curled as her lover continued, breath playing over her neck, “you intend to give me one of those too, Anders. I helped her plan this after all.”
His mouth opened once, twice, and Lilian realized she’d never seen him blush quite that spectacularly before. Isabela snickered and caught Lilian’s jaw with her free hand. “Guess I’ll have to take one from Lil instead,” she murmured, lips and tongue just grazing Hawke’s mouth, “this time.”
Isabela’s mouth was warm and demanding in all the right ways, the suggestive touch of her tongue pulling a low moan from Lilian, but it was Anders’s chest she clutched and his fingers curling around her neck. The sensation was utterly surreal, and by the time Isabela let her up to breathe, her legs no longer worked. Only the two of them pressed against her kept her from becoming an undignified pool of mage on the deck. They were doing this to her on purpose! Of course they were, and why was she complaining about that?
“Didn’t,” Her mouth still worked...sort of, the words spilling out in a breathy ragged whisper, “you say something about lightning, Bella?” She smirked up at him as her head lolled back on Isabela’s shoulder, one hand dipping to graze the pirate’s hip slowly.
“Lilian!” Anders choked over Isabela’s delighted laugh. Hawke giggled with her, dark lashes fluttering playfully at the healer, who, despite his protests, had a rather wicked gleam in his eyes.
“What about lightning? You don’t think there’s a storm coming, do you?” A trace of panic hitched in Merrill’s voice, and Lilian choked back a giggle as she buried her face between Anders and Isabela.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this touching scene, Hawke,” Aveline’s voice broke in. Andraste’s hairy arse, couldn’t she at least let them have one pleasant moment? She didn’t sound the least bit sorry! “we have to talk about this.”
Lilian rolled her eyes against Isabela’s’ shoulder. “I thought her getting laid would make this better,” she muttered.
“Hawke! This is serious!” When wasn’t it serious with Aveline? Hawke, you can’t steal the Knight-Commander’s smalls. Hawke, you can’t swear at the Grand Cleric. Hawke, the next time I catch you and Isabela outside...
With a sigh, Lilian disentangled herself from the other two and turned to face the irritated guard-captain. Although, she supposed that was now former guard-captain since they weren’t in Kirkwall any longer. “Then talk, Aveline.” She felt Anders and Isabela arrange themselves supportively behind her, and off to the side, she could see Merrill watching attentively with Varric next to her.
The redhead squared her shoulders, and set her powerful jaw stubbornly. Lilian could already feel a lecture coming on. “You just incited a riot! You can’t expect me to stay and watch you do things like that. Especially if you’re going to celebrate,” disgust crept into the words, “like that.”
“I thought it was a rather appropriate way to celebrate,” Lilian laughed sharply, “and I can expect whatever I want. Whether you’ll stay, however, is entirely up to you, Aveline.”
Aveline pulled an annoyed face at her. “What was the bloody point of that, Hawke?” Her hand shot back toward Ostwick, pointing angrily.
“What was the point?” Lilian asked incredulously, even though she had known this was coming... She could feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets. “You’ve known me how long, and you have to ask me that?” She spat with disbelief.
“The point, Aveline, is that we have to make sure this story is heard. Trust me, the blasted Chantry will tell a very different one that’s meant to end with Anders and me dead, cursed by the Maker. We may die anyway, but before that happens I want those people...” she pointed back toward Ostwick too, her eyes blazing. “...to understand. I want everyone in Thedas to have a chance to hear our version of it. This, Aveline, is just the beginning. Mages will be free.”
Anders’s breathing had quickened behind her as she spoke, and she saw Varric’s eyes widening at the unusual venom in her voice. Merrill’s head cocked curiously, and of those facing Lilian, she was the only one to offer even a hint of a smile.
“This is chaos, Hawke!” Aveline growled. “You can’t want this. You can’t do this.”
“I can, and I have, and I intend to keep doing it,” Lilian snapped. “Do you think change comes in neat little rows with polished armor?”
“This was never going to be a peaceful change,” Anders remarked quietly, sounding as weary of the discussion as she was. “The templars and Chantry have too much power. They would never allow it.”
Aveline’s green eyes flashed furiously at him, her anger at the mage still fresh. When she took a step toward him, Lilian slid in front of her, a hand pressed flat against her breastplate. “How can you support him, Hawke?”
“How can I not?” She hissed. “We weren’t left with many choices, were we? You can be angry with Anders all you like, but I still believe he is right as I have said before, clearly, without reservation.” A hint of a purple-black haze laced with snapping blue wriggled around her fingers.
“This has been happening for a long time. He just brought it to a head. Compromise was only prolonging it. Maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in five it would have come crashing down. I don’t know. All I know, Aveline, is that it was coming. It was inevitable.” Each word snapped in her mouth, and she heard the guard hiss softly when she saw the magic leaking from the mage’s fingers. Lilian defiantly kept her hand right where it was. Let her be afraid.
“But what you’re doing is not inevitable, Hawke,” Aveline’s voice was low as she tried to stuff her anger beneath concern.
“Perhaps not,” Lilian suddenly turned from her to sweep toward the railing of the ship with her arms outstretched. “But it’s this or cower in fear that all the pretty boxes that make up our lives are crumbling, Aveline.” A smile crept over her lips, visions of what might be dancing in her mind. All the possibilities. Maybe it would all end horribly, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. “I never really liked the boxes anyway. The templars, the Chantry, the Qunari...they all want to put everyone in their proper place. But this...”
She spun, laughter erupting from her as she loosed a shimmering bolt of spirit out into the sea. “This is freedom, Aveline, and it’s glorious.”
“Hawke is right,” Merrill’s voice rang out firmly, interrupting whatever Aveline had been about to say. Maker bless Merrill. When they’d all doubted her, the Dalish woman still believed.
“Why do you say that, Kitten?” Isabela encouraged gently, obviously more interested in listening to what the elf had to say than Lady Manhands’ ranting.
Color crept to Merrill’s cheeks, but she stood straight, eyes on Aveline. “People need to know the truth, Aveline. It won’t help to keep stacking lies on top of lies.”
“The truth?” Aveline looked like she was about to explode. “Is that what that was?”
“A version of it,” Merrill answered coolly. “Stories help us understand the truths behind them, and that’s what Hawke was doing.” Lilian felt the elf’s shining eyes slide to her, something in the tilt of her jaw reminding her of Marethari and that this girl should have been a Keeper. “Yours is an important story, lethallin,” she pronounced with the air of one making a vow, “And I’ll make sure people hear it.”
Lilian couldn’t help slipping over to the elf, her arm curling affectionately around her shoulder for a warm hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s not that simple,” growled Aveline. “This could make it worse.”
“It could,” agreed Merrill, “but it is that simple. You always make it more complicated than it needs to be.”
Aveline opened her mouth, and Lilian vaguely wondered just how angry she would be if a sudden surge of magic sent her flying onto her arse, but then she’d have to deal with more yelling. No magic then. Time to use her words. “Enough.”
An obstinate look crossed the redhead’s face, forcing Lilian to punctuate her command with a glare which came all too easily at that moment. “This is the route I am taking. If you want to be a part of it, fine. If not, then you and Donnic are free to go when we arrive in Hercinia as is anyone else.”
Despite her annoyance, she gently squeezed Merrill’s shoulder, glancing away long enough to offer the girl a faint smile.
“Hawke...”
Lilian pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. Why were they even still discussing this? “It’s not up for debate, Aveline.”
“As if debate would change anything now,” Varric remarked quietly, and Lilian felt another small flash of concern. She glanced at him with a tight nervous smile. Don’t you leave me too. But the dwarf winked warmly at her, “I’m staying, Hawke, don’t you worry. Like you said, best story in centuries. I’ll make sure it’s told.”
Relief crept through her, and her smile loosened. “Thanks, Varric.”
“Anytime, Hawke.”
Weariness and the sway of the deck threatened to topple her, so when Anders stretched out a hand for her, Lilian took it gratefully and wound up leaning against his chest with his arms wrapped protectively around her. Maker, he felt good, steadier than her at the moment and solid, and she didn’t care that Aveline and Anders were glaring at each other over her head. Her arms tightened around his waist as his long fingers glided through her hair, that ghost of magic in his touch making her smile even as she yawned.
Isabela chuckled near her ear, her breath playing over Lilian’s neck as she leaned close. “Go with him. I have to find us a safe place to anchor for the night.”
Mods, would it be possible for me to get a "The Thing with Feathers" series tag? Pretty please with Fenris on top?
If anyone is looking for it, Chapter 1 is here.