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Free as a Bird	By : Letticiae Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9737 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor do I own the characters. I do not make money/profit from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14 – Getting Better (Part 1)

The next morning Hawke met all her companions, Fenris included, at the Hanged Man. She announced Bartrand had accepted her as a partner in the expedition and that they would leave in three days.

"I can only take two people with me," she said and all eyes turned to her. "Anders, I know you hate the Deep Roads and you have the clinic, but you are a Grey Warden and a healer. I– "

"I'll go with you, Hawke," he readily agreed.

"Thank you. Maybe Bethany could spend the next days in the clinic with you. You could teach her more about healing and she'll take care of the place while you are out," she suggested. Her mother and sister had already discussed the expedition with her and they had decided Bethany would not go. The Deep Roads were no picnic. If something happened to Hawke down there, at least Leandra would still have her younger daughter.

"It's a good idea," Anders smiled. "Who else is going?"

He rolled his eyes when Hawke turned to Fenris.

The elf noticed how unusually unsure Hawke looked and sounded when she asked him if he would go. It was his fault she still didn't know if she could count on him. To show her he really meant to be part of her band, he accepted without hesitation, his eyes locked with hers.

"You're a partner too, Varric. Aren't you taking anyone?" Aveline asked.

"No. Bartrand has hired too many people already. In my oxcart it is only going to be me and as many barrels of ale I can fit in there," the dwarf replied.

"What about Garrus?" the guardswoman asked Hawke.

"He'll stay. I don't think all these weeks underground would be good for him," Hawke answered.

"May I take him to the barracks while you're out, then? He could help train my guards."

"Of course. He could use the exercise," Hawke agreed.

"Good. I think it's time they faced down a good old mabari charge." Aveline turned to the dog. "How about it, boy? Want to chew on some recruits?"

Garrus barked happily, wagging his tail.

"So it's settled," Hawke said getting up.

She left for the market with her mabari, Varric and Fenris, to buy provisions and everything else they might need for the expedition while Anders went to get Bethany so they could start practicing. Isabela and Merrill stayed behind to plan a farewell party for their companions that would be leaving at the Hanged Man and Aveline went to wrap up their business in the city before they set off to the Deep Roads; mostly giving trinkets and other stuff Hawke had found during her quests around Kirkwall back to the rightful owners.

Varric, Hawke and Fenris spent the whole day at the market. After they had finally gotten everything they needed and were ready to head back home, Hawke let out a tired sigh. "I just wish I could take a real bath before we leave on this expedition."

Fenris had a bathtub in his mansion. If he wanted to do something nice for her, to make up for all the times he had pushed her away, this was his chance. He could offer her his bathtub and they could also take the opportunity to share a bottle of wine and talk. Maybe he would hold her hand and show her he was fine with that or at least that he was trying to be. But then she would be naked, taking a bath in his house. Maker, could he handle that?

"You can order a bath in my suite at the Hanged Man whenever you want to, Hawke," Varric offered.

"Thank you, Varric. I'll do that," she replied, smiling.

Fenris muttered a curse under his breath. While he was over-thinking the issue, the dwarf was acting on it, always there for Hawke when she needed him.

"See you tomorrow," she said, waving goodbye to the elf and taking the stairs to Lowtown with Varric.

The next morning, Varric smirked when he noticed Fenris struggling to keep his usual stoic face at the sight of Hawke entering the Hanged Man wearing the new armor she had gotten from Olaf the day before. The elf hadn't thought she could possibly be any more distracting, but there she was wearing a leather skirt that wouldn't leave much to the imagination considering the way she moved during a fight.

Fenris cleared his throat. "I see your new armor fits you well."

"It's much better than your old one,"Anders remarked.

"They mean you look hot and wish you would never wear those manly breeches of yours again," Isabela said, making both men blush.

Hawke shook her head and pulled a chair to sit next to Anders. Fenris was instantly pissed when he noticed the mage running a finger on a small scar right above her knee. She had been sitting there for no longer than a second and that abomination already had his hands on her.

"Where did you get this?" the mage asked.

"At Ostagar," she answered drily and shifted on her chair, moving her leg away from his touch. Damn it, she thought, now they'll start questioning me. "You all know how great that went. If you want any gruesome details, I'm sure Aveline can fill you in," Hawke said and left the table pretending she wanted to get something from Corff.

"It's not easy to talk about Ostagar. Much more than a battle was lost that day," the guardswoman uttered, somehow justifying Hawke running away from the subject. "Everyone knows about the betrayal – the signal went up but the flanking charge never came. What really crushed our spirits was that moment when the tower lit and then… the fight just kept going. It was the oddest feeling. Hope answered with… nothing," she spoke.

Those words and Aveline's grave tone got everyone thinking silently for a brief moment.

Anders remembered when he was with the Hero of Ferelden fighting the darkspawn invasion in Amaranthine and they got word about the attack at Vigil's Keep. She abandoned the city to save the Keep. It was not a betrayal, but a choice. One so tough he thanked the Maker he was not the person having to make it. How must the villagers have felt to see the ones who were fighting for them suddenly give orders to burn down the city and turn on their heels and leave?

Fenris stared pensively at Hawke for a moment and wondered. He didn't remember ever having a home or anything that he could lose and he didn't know what it was like to love your country and fight for it. What were the feelings of a soldier losing a battle to save his homeland? That experience had surely had its toll on Hawke and was part of the person she was today. He hated that he couldn't understand or relate to any of that.

Varric knew Hawke had lost her fiancé at Ostagar. Bethany had told him, though the girl didn't know the circumstances of his death, since her older sister had never talked about it. No one else seemed to know anything about that matter and the dwarf decided not to mention it, at least not until Hawke herself felt ready to talk about it. Or maybe he would just get her drunk someday and make her talk. She had to make peace with her past if she wanted to have a future.

Hawke came back to the table with a tankard of ale. Her companions wouldn't miss the opportunity to make some snide comments about her drinking that early in the morning and they would surely drop the conversation about Ostagar. Varric saw right through her little scheme but played along, calling everyone's attention to the drink in her hand.

The next day Hawke went to the Hanged Man a few hours before the farewell party Isabela and Merrill had organized so that she could take the bath Varric had offered her. The dwarf had some errands to run in Hightown and assured her he wouldn't be back until the evening, giving her all the time and privacy she might need.

It didn't take her that long though, and one hour later she was opening the door to leave the room smelling like jasmines, hair still wet and wearing the only dress she had, the one she had used the night Elegant had invited her out.

One step out of the room and someone tried to pommel her. She ducked, but before she could grab the knives strapped to her thighs two strong men seized her arms and a third one came behind her and, with a firm grasp on her hair, tilted her head back.

"Magistrate Vanard sends his regards," he hissed in her ear and then pommelled her in the back of her head. Before everything went black, she caught a glimpse of a blond man peeking at the scene from a slightly opened door across the hall.

Vanard's thugs dragged her to an empty room next door to Varric's and threw her on the floor. When she came to with a kick in the gut, her arms were tied behind her back, she was gagged and lying on her side. There were six, maybe seven men around her in the room. A throbbing pain in her head was keeping her from thinking clearly. She probably had a mild concussion.

"You'll pay for killing his boy, bitch!" one of her attackers shouted and kicked her on the stomach again, making her curl into ball on the floor.

"That's a nice piece of ass. Let's have some fun with her first," another thug said, his hands already unbuckling his belt.

WHAT?

All the men laughed in agreement and two of them were immediately upon her, forcing her on her back and pushing her legs apart. This is not going to happen to me. I will not allow it,she told herself as she squirmed and kicked, trying to get away from them.

Suddenly the door was burst open causing a distraction that gave her just the couple of seconds she needed to clear her head and concentrate in untying herself, an easy task for her trained rogue fingers once she was fully alert. The blond man she had seen earlier had stormed into the room, a shiny longsword on one hand which he wielded with ease, and a shield emblazoned with the Grey Wardens' insignia in the other. She freed herself and got rid of the cloth stuffed in her mouth. Grabbing her knives, she got on her feet and joined the fight. Together the two of them dispatched all foes in no time.

As his eyes met hers, he lowered his blade and his expression softened.

"Where is your shining armor, oh brave knight that came to my rescue?" Hawke jested.

"For a damsel in distress I'd say you have a couple too many knives under your dress," he replied.

"Thank you for your help. I'm Hawke, by the way," she said, beaming.

"Alistair at your service, my lady," he grinned and bowed slightly.

"Haven't I seen you before? Downstairs, I think, claiming to be the Prince of Ferelden?"

"Oh, you heard that?" He looked embarrassed.

"Who didn't? But seeing you so expertly wielding these fine pieces of weaponry I almost couldn't tell you were that same…"

"Sorry ass of a drunk?" he sighed sadly.

"Yes, but I would have put it in nicer words," she said, trying to keep a smile on her face, but failing. The adrenaline had died down all that was left now was a headache and a sharp pain in her stomach.

"Come with me. I'll get you a health potion," Alistair said, noticing she was hurting.

She followed him to his room and leaned against the doorframe glancing curiously inside while he retrieved a small chest from his wardrobe and browsed it for the appropriate potion. By his bed there was a stand for his sword and shield. Inside a big trunk on the far corner of the room she wagered a heavy armor could be found. There was also a round table with a stool and some empty bottles underneath it. About a dozen unopened letters scattered over a stand by the door piqued her interest. She could read the sender's name in five of them and they were all the same – "Elissa Cousland". Wasn't that the Hero of Ferelden?

Alistair came back with a flask and she quickly downed it.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you again."

"Um, would you like to join me for a drink? And maybe tell me who those men that attacked you were?"

Hawke was utterly intrigued by that warrior. He was not just another drunk patron. Fereldan accent, really good with a sword, getting letters from the Hero of Ferelden, carrying a Grey Warden's shield, not to mention his striking resemblance with King Cailan. Alistair probably was who he claimed to be. Someone must have screwed him over royally for him to end up wasted in the cheapest tavern of the Free Marches.

"All right, but I'll go clean up first. I had just taken a bath and there's blood on me already," she said, looking at her bloodied hands and arms.

"You know, that's what happens when you cut people's throats," he remarked playfully.

"Yeah, it's too messy. I don't know why I keep doing it," she kidded.

"What about those dead bodies?" he asked.

"Ah, don't worry. I'll give Corff something extra for him to deal with them."

"You sound like someone who has a habit of leaving corpses behind for other people to clean up," he observed, his tone still playful.

"Why would you think that about me? I'm the damsel in the distress you just saved, remember?" she said sarcastically.

"Right! I know damsels like you. I've spent a whole year fighting alongside a… ah, never mind. I'll go clean up too. We'll meet downstairs in ten minutes?"

"Sure," Hawke agreed and went back to Varric's room.

When she arrived, Alistair was already on his usual table and she sat down across him.

"Nice armor," he said.

"My only dress has blood stains on it. Again," she sighed.

"You sound Fereldan. How did you end up in Kirkwall?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied.

"I might need a tankard or two before I answer that."

"Oh, well, the same here."

"Norah!" he called.

Almost two hours had passed and Alistair and Hawke were still talking and drinking. They had gossiped about Leliana and had fun comparing Ferelden to Kirkwall. She had told him about her upcoming expedition and he had given her advice on what to expect from the Deep Roads. Their eyes had shimmered with tears when they had shared their stories about Ostagar and all they had lost that tragic day. They had talked about their many adventures and when he had told her how Flemeth had saved Elissa and him just for them to kill her later on, they had to laugh at the irony that while he and his companions were having a hard time defeating the witch, Hawke was making sure she lived.

Hawke felt so comfortable around him, it was like she knew him for ages. For the first time since his death, she had talked to someone about Arthur and having Alistair strong, warm hand reaching for hers as she spoke made it easier for her to open up, even though she had not gotten into much detail for she didn't want to risk crying her eyes out in public.

She couldn't help but to admire that brave man, who had done so much for Ferelden, who had played such an important part in the process of stopping the Blight. And now he was a drunk people looked down on or even laughed at sometimes. He didn't deserve his fate.

Alistair looked deep into her eyes and closed his hand around hers. "Hawke, I know we've just met, but – "

"Hawke!" Isabela cried, getting into the tavern with musicians, a cake and all members of Hawke's party, Bethany and Garrus included.

"I'm sorry. My companions had this farewell gathering planned and… Would you like to join us?" Hawke asked Alistair as she got up on her feet. Her friends were already settling around the largest table in the bar, which had been reserved for them.

"Oh, no, thank you. I don't want to intrude. It was really nice talking to you," he said, a hint of disappointment on his voice and a lot of it in his eyes.

"Thank you again for coming to my rescue," Hawke smiled brightly at him and left to join her companions.

"You are going to love him! He has a great cock. Huge!" the pirate remarked.

"What on Thedas are you talking about, Isabela?" Hawke asked, startled.

"Alistair, of course. You may be sitting here with us, but your eyes have not left his table," Rivaini replied.

"And you have been sleeping with him, obviously," Hawke rolled her eyes impatiently. "Damn it!"

"Hey, don't get upset. I would gladly share him with you if I were sleeping with him, but I'm not. It happened over a year ago, back in Denerim. He and the Hero of Ferelden used to be a couple and I had a threesome with them once. I asked her if I could borrow him for a few weeks, but she wouldn't let me and that was the end of it."

Before Hawke could say anything else, Varric interrupted. "Hawke, Norah said you got into a fight here earlier today. What happened?"

"A fight? Are you okay? Do you need healing?" Anders asked.

"Does it look like she needs healing, mage? You just want an excuse to grope her," Fenris chimed in.

"Not this again," Hawke muttered under her breath. "Remember Magistrate Vanard? He sent some men to beat me up, rape me and kill me. That's all," she told them, dismissively.

"Sweet Andraste, Hawke! Don't treat this like it's nothing serious. Thank the Maker they didn't get you!" the healer exclaimed.

"They did," she uttered.

"Shit, Hawke. Why didn't you say anything?" Varric looked worried.

"Maker's balls, if they put their hands on you, I swear –" Anders started.

"We should go find him," Fenris spoke, getting up on his feet.

"Hey, people, put some faith in her. She looks fine," Isabela said and turned to face Hawke. "You slaughtered them, didn't you? I bet they didn't stand a chance."

"Relax, everyone. They knocked me down and tied me up, but some guy had seen them take me and he came for me. We killed Vanard's men before they could do anything to me," she explained.

"You know I believe you, Hawke, but I can't just arrest a magistrate. Did you search the bodies? Was there any proof of his involvement?" The guardswoman sounded concerned.

"Don't worry, Aveline. It's all taken care of," Hawke calmed her.

"Are you sure? How do you know he won't send more people?" the red-haired woman questioned her.

"Who helped you?" Bethany interrupted.

"Oh, I know! It was Alistair, wasn't it? Now I see what got you interested in him in the first place," Isabela figured.

"Are you interested in that whiny drunk?" Fenris couldn't refrain himself from asking.

"What if Vanard sends more people after you?" Aveline insisted.

"I'm leaving for the Deep Roads, Aveline. He is last in my list of concerns right now. And Alistair is not a drunk, Fenris. He's a fellow Fereldan, a warrior and a Grey Warden," Hawke answered them.

"So you are interested in him," Anders asserted, a look of despise on his face.

"Isabela, how about we cut the cake?" Hawke changed the subject.

The pirate agreed and started slicing it. Norah came by with a pile of plates to serve it and Hawke asked her to take a slice over to Alistair and be discreet about it. She had had enough of her companions meddling in her every business.

From his table the Warden watched intently as Hawke finished up her piece of cake and licked some frosting from her lips. She was so enticing and she wasn't even trying. When Norah came over to hand him a slice, he decided to give up on the ale for the night. Since the rogue had left his table, they had been continuously exchanging glances and smiles. No doubt she was as interested in him as he was in her and if an opportunity came along for them to be together he didn't want to miss it for being drunk.

Hawke too stopped drinking, for she was already slightly tipsy and her sporting a hangover on the expedition's first day would look very unprofessional, after all she was a partner.

The musicians were playing a cheerful song and Isabela invited Merrill to dance. Also feeling like dancing, Hawke ran her eyes through her companions' faces, looking for a partner. Fenris was brooding, Anders was pouting and Varric was busy teaching Bethany and Garrus how to play Wicked Grace.

"Don't even look at me. I don't dance," Aveline said.

Hawke wasn't giving up. "Fenris, would you li–"

"I'll dance with you, Hawke," Anders chimed in.

"I don't think she was asking you, mage," the elf spat.

"The man is supposed to ask the woman. Not the other way around. But I guess you wouldn't know that," the healer scoffed.

"What are you implying, abomination?" Fenris' markings started glowing faintly. "Do you really want to dance with her or is this just another excuse for you to feel her up?"

"Oh, get over that, will you? People who care about each other, they touch each other. They don't wince every time someone gets close. Plus, I don't see her complaining.

"Don't bother, Glow Boys," Varric interrupted them. "She's not dancing with either of you."

They looked around and noticed Hawke's empty chair.

"Where is she?" Anders asked.

"Prince Drunk invited her. You two seemed more interested in each other. What did you expect?" Varric snickered.
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Free as a Bird