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The Last Dance	By : kireinakittie Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 7585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II or Dragon Age: Inquisition, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 3 - The Wrong Approach
Evelyn woke at dawn to overwhelming guilt and a dull ache in between her thighs. What had she been thinking, taking advantage of Cole like that? Not to mention betraying the promise of something more with Cullen? She couldn’t even blame the alcohol, she knew she hadn’t been drunk. The way Cullen had touched her was intoxicating, but she knew it was no excuse.
The inquisitor slid out of bed and hastily pulled on some clothes. She needed to do something to clear her mind, preferably getting as far away from Cole and Cullen as possible.
Downstairs at the war table the Grey Warden Alistair and Hawke were in debate.
“Morning” Evelyn greeted the pair, moving over to the table and peering at the section of map they were referring to. The Western Approach. “Is there a problem?”
“Inquisitor” Alistair greeted her, crossing his arms over his chest “No problem as such, I was just discussing with Hawke the possibility of more wardens in the approach. We know there are extensive cave systems throughout the area, frequented by darkspawn, it stands to reason that some wardens may have fled to the tunnels, darkspawn or no.”
“And I will say again, you’re talking about the hills surrounding Griffon Wing Keep. Don’t you think by now if there were any wardens in those hills they would have found the Inquisition’s people?” Hawke countered.
“We have sent patrols into those hills, as far as I know there hasn’t been any sign of Grey Warden activity.” Evelyn told the pair.
Alistair sighed.
“I know” He said “But I just can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something. I’d like to check it out, with your permission.”
“The wardens don’t answer to me” Evelyn replied “But you’re right, I think it’s worth a look. Perhaps a grey warden can see something we missed?”
“Exactly.” Alistair smiled, relieved that she shared his point of view.
“I’ll assemble a team and meet you both this afternoon at Griffon Wing Keep.” She said with a smile, pouncing on the perfect opportunity to leave Skyhold for a little while.
“Err, what?” Hawke raised an eyebrow “Why do I have to go?”
Alistair looked at the Champion with a small smirk.
“Do you really want to stay here?”
The blonde rogue thought about it for a moment, then sighed heavily.
“I –hate- the western approach!”
-
Heat, wind and sand. Evelyn wasn’t particularly fond of the western approach either, but as she looked out across the empty expanses she was still glad to be away from Skyhold and able to put the guilt and confusion from her mind. And she was extremely glad to be back in her much loved black leather armor, tight lace up breeches and vest, and her pride and joy, a white, sleeveless, dragon scale duster. Alas it was way too hot for the coat, so it remained packed in her gear, but still.
She trudged to the top of the rise and turned back to the others, pulling the lightweight white scarf down from her nose and mouth.
“If memory serves there should be water at the end of that gully.” She said, pointing, as Alistair and the others joined her at the top of the hill. The warden nodded breathlessly, struggling with the heat in full armor. Dorian seemed to be wilting like an exotic flower, but Iron Bull, Hawke and Varric remained unruffled.
With the end of their trek in sight their steps seemed charged with renewed vigor, so it was a short time later Evelyn was able to dump her pack in the dirt by a clear, cool pond that seeped up out of the rock.
“We’ll camp here” she said, though the others already seemed to have decided the same, and took little notice of her statement. The site was covered on two sides by sheer stone cliffs that blocked the wind and sun, offering a clear view of the plains on the other two sides. Straws were drawn, and Varric, Dorian and The Iron Bull went separate ways to keep watch.
Hawke folded her long legs up and plopped down by the water’s edge, content to clean her weapons and hunt for blood lotus reeds in the shallows. Her shoulder length blonde hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and she hummed while she worked.
Alistair shed much of his armor, though he made sure he could put it back on in a hurry, and clad only in tight armored breeches and boots he began to collect firewood, eventually locating a dead tree that he dragged back to camp and proceeded to chop with a hand axe. The wood was dry and brittle, splintering easily.
Evelyn figured that Hawke had the right idea, so she sat down next to her in the dirt. She pulled her dragon daggers out and set them in front of her. But instead of cleaning her weapons her focus turned inward once more. She knew that this was only a momentary respite, when they got back to Skyhold she would have to deal with her guilt and face Cole, try and make him understand why what happened was so wrong. And she would need to talk with Cullen. But what she would say to him she had no idea. With a soft sigh she lifted her pale gaze and absently watched Alistair chop firewood.
Sweat glistened on the Warden’s torso, outlining the play of muscles in his arms and chest with every swing of the axe. He was thinner than Cullen, not as tall or broad shouldered. Though still blonde his hair was also slightly darker than Cullen’s and straight where the commander’s was a riot of golden waves. Sweat dampened hair hung over his brow and he periodically caught his bottom lip between his straight white teeth in concentration.
“You ought to be careful, looking at him like that. His wife will kill you.” Hawke interrupted Evelyn’s thoughts with a wicked smile. The inquisitor’s cheeks flushed, but she laughed and turned to look at the champion.
“I have enough man trouble already, I’m not looking to add to it!” she protested. Hawke laughed in turn.
“Mm,” she said, agreeing “I heard about that, you and Commander Cullen.”
“Yeah…” Evelyn replied, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap. Hawke had the good sense to let it go.
“What about you?” The Inquisitor asked.
It was Hawke’s turn to look away.
“Once, not anymore.” She said quietly.
They lapsed into silence again.
“I’m sorry,” Hawke said “I’ve never been very good at girl talk.”
“Me either.” Evelyn laughed.
Hawke picked up her daggers and held them in her lap.
“You’re an assassin, right?” She asked “Wanna spar?”
“Yeah, but, I haven’t been training very long. What’s your discipline?”
“Duelist. And don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you!”
Evelyn smiled and picked up her own daggers, nodding her assent. Anything was better than sitting around feeling sorry for herself, or checking out married men. She admitted to herself, if no one else, she had been looking at Alistair, and she’d liked what she’d seen. But she meant what she said, her life was complicated enough already. With a slight shake of her head she sheathed her daggers and got to her feet. The pair moved to a clear space and faced each other.
“First blood.” Hawke declared, then she whipped out her daggers and dove toward the Inquisitor.
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The Last Dance