Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 40
- 41
- 42
After nearly turning his entire cabin upside down searching for the chart he needed the previous evening, Garrett made the decision to look elsewhere that morning, but he was unsure where to start. Even his leisurely soak in the tub at the foot of his bed didn’t help to clear his head. He needed to go somewhere, do something that would give him a fresh perspective.

Once he was dressed and ready for the day, the captain made his way out of his cabin to head toward the helm. He hadn’t gotten two steps out the door, when he spotted Miriana’s temporary quarters and stopped. He wanted to see her, to talk to her. They hadn’t spoken since she ran into the cabin the previous evening, and he felt the need to apologize for any offense she may have taken to his behavior. Somehow, he felt disturbing her for the mere sake of an apology wasn’t excuse enough to bother the lady. He needed another reason to approach her.

The growling of his stomach presented him with the perfect solution. It was still fairly early in the morning, and the captain surmised the young woman probably hadn’t eaten. Even if someone had thought to take her breakfast, the meal would have consisted of something Ramirez cooked, so he knew she would still be hungry. Since the galley’s larder was well stocked from just leaving port, Garrett would have his choice in what he could prepare for the mage. He wondered if she liked hearthcakes with blueberries. They were a specialty of his, and in truth, his favored morning meal.

When he reached the galley, the captain found Ramirez and the cabin boy, Carlos, scouring pots dirtied from the crew’s breakfast. Carlos was small and appeared to be even younger than his thirteen years. His wide mouth was set in a scowl as he scrubbed out a large kettle, one of the duties he detested the most. Ramirez bore a stark contrast to his helper. The man was about one hundred and fifty years old, at least that was he looked to be with the small tufts of white hair over his otherwise balding scalp and flesh so wrinkled it appeared he had stepped into the skin of a man three times his size. When the old man spotted Garrett, he presented his captain with a broad, toothless grin.

“Mornin’ Captain,” he greeted in his typical croak. “I was gonna have the boy bring up yer meal as soon as we finished the pots.”

“It’s alright, Ramirez,” Garrett reassured him as he made his way to the larder to gather the supplies he needed. “I’ll be cooking for myself this morning.”

“What about that pretty lady?” the cook inquired. “Will she be needin’ a plate delivered?”

“No, mate,” the captain informed him. “I’ve got it covered, but you could send down breakfast to our other guest.” Carlos shivered at that order, prompting Garrett to regard the boy with an arch of his brow. “Something wrong, Carlos?”

The young man shrugged. “Sorry, Captain. That guy just gives me the willies.”

Garrett gave the cabin boy a light tap to his shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, son,” he chuckled. “He does the same to me, but he’s paid his fare so we have to treat him as we would any other passenger. Unless he does something stupid, that is. Then I’ll let you be the one to hold the sword to his back when I make him walk the plank.”

Carlos grinned brightly at that suggestion, and began to scrub with renewed purpose. Somehow, Garrett got the feeling the boy hoped Remus would raise the captain’s ire so he could perform such a duty. Garrett, on the other hand, wished only for the Tevinter to stay quietly in his cabin and leave both his ship and his crew alone. The whole feel of that bastard was wrong, and the pirate was looking forward to getting rid of him as soon as possible.

As Garrett began to prepare breakfast for himself and Miriana, his vexation over the missing chart returned. The space between his brows disappeared as he concentrated on the problem at hand. His dad always charted everything, every route, every trip. There had to be one for the trek to Calenhad.

“Somethin’ botherin’ ya, Captain?” Ramirez inquired, bringing Garrett out of his introspection.

He hadn’t considered it before, but the cook might have been the key to discovering the whereabouts of the lost map. The old man had been working the Call since before Garrett was born. In fact, he was the one who discovered Garrett in the larder all those years ago. Ramirez may have been as ancient as the tides, but he had the mind of a steel trap.

The younger pirate scowled. “Actually, mate, you might be of some help to me.”

“Anything ya need, Captain,” the cook said with another wide grin.

“Do you remember that voyage to Lake Calenhad we took about fourteen years ago?” Garrett asked.

Ramirez bobbed his head. “Aye. Marko took that little spit of a girl to the tower,” he recalled. “I remember him chewin’ over that one for days. He considered just throwin’ those bastard templars overboard, but he wasn’t sure what he’d do with a little girl on a pirate ship.”

The captain had to smile at that revelation. It was just like his dad to contemplate such a thing. The old man may have been a pirate, but he had a soft spot when it came to children and people who were in trouble when they did nothing to warrant the strife. Besides, Captain Marko’s hatred of templars and the Chantry was well-known. It was a contempt he passed on to his son.

“Well,” Garrett continued. “The fairest of our passengers desires to be taken to the tower, and I’ll be damned if I can find the chart that will get us there.”

“Did ya check yer old cabin, Captain?” the cook queried. “That cabinet in the corner? That’s where old Marko hid the maps he didn’t use too often.”

Garrett sighed with a waggle of his head. Of course, he should have remembered that. It had been years since he had to peruse that cabinet for charts. He had completely forgotten about it. He only hoped Miriana wouldn’t mind his rifling through her quarters to find it.

“Thank you, Ramirez,” said the captain with a slight bow of the head. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” His face contorted in disgust as he spied the plates the old man had laid out for the ship’s passengers.

It certainly isn’t for your cooking.

“Happy to help, Captain,” the old man said with a smile, ignoring the younger man’s disdain for his culinary skills. “Anytime. Ya know, I remember when I found you.” He pointed to the larder. “Right in there. You were wailin’ like a siren. Scared the shit right outta me. I thought we mighta picked up a damned demon somewhere along the way.” He wagged his head with a chuckle. “But there ya were, layin’ there in a crate of bananas with nothin’ but a soiled nappy and slip a parchment.” His emaciated chest shook as his laugh grew louder. “Those bananas never did taste right.”

It was a story Ramirez had relayed to Garrett dozens of times over the years, but it always drew a good laugh from the old man. The captain didn’t mind. He was simply grateful the cook had taken him to Marko instead of dumping him over the railing. The old man should have retired years before, but Garrett didn’t have the heart to let him go after everything the cook had done for him.

The captain finished his task then placed the two plates of food on a large tray along with a pot of fresh tea and two cups and saucers. He almost wished he had a flower for the center when he presented the meal to Miriana, but that would most likely have been overly trite. Garrett was sure it was something Gerard would have done, but he refused to lower himself to the standard of Varric’s imagination again.

Damned dwarf.

Miriana pushed up on the bridge of her spectacles with the tip of her index finger as she perused her favorite book. When she awoke to the light of that morning’s dawn, she immediately fished through her pack to locate the text. She wanted to read it the previous day when she left Captain Hawke, but she was feeling too ill to do so.

A sudden rap at the door of her cabin startled the young mage. She quickly removed her eyeglasses and stuffed them under her pillow before jumping to her feet and scurrying to answer the knock. When she opened the door, she had expected to see one of the crew members, possibly even Mr. Martinez, but was instead greeted by Captain Hawke’s aquamarine eyes and angular smirk. She sucked in an abrupt gasp and her gaze dropped to concentrate on the silver dagger amulet nestled in his dark hair of his chest.

“Good morning, love,” the pirate greeted.

“Good morning, Captain,” Miriana replied with a squeak.

The mage was frozen in place under the weight of his presence. Her hands began trembling as she clutched the handle of the door to steady herself and to keep her buckling knees from giving way completely. She only hoped the man couldn’t hear the rapid beat of her heart as she tried to catch her breath.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he told her. “So, I took the liberty to bring you some breakfast. I hope you find blueberry hearthcakes to your liking.”

Miriana’s eyes trailed the length of his arm to observe a large tray holding two plates covered by silver domes, a white teapot with delicate gold trim, and two matching cups and saucers. He intended to dine with her in her cabin. Her body began shaking in earnest with that notion. She wanted to open the door wider to allow his entry, but she couldn’t seem to will her feet to move.

“Or…” he hesitated. “I could just have the cabin boy bring something to you later if you wish.”

What are you doing, stupid?

“N…no,” she stammered. “I…I mean…please come in, Captain.”

The mage inhaled a deep breath and held it as she finally managed to force two steps backward and open the door wide enough to allow both the pirate and the tray he carried entry. He strode to the small table in the left front corner and began laying out the fare on the heavy wooden surface. When the platter had been emptied, he propped it against the wall. For several moments, Miriana simply watched his graceful and precise movements. Everything about him was perfect. When his task was complete, he took a step toward her and offered his hand.

“Shall we, love?” he asked.

Miriana gave her full attention to the handle gripped within her fingers and mustered enough resolve to push the door closed. After another deep breath, she let loose of the brass and turned to face the pirate. His lips were once again set in a sexy, lopsided grin and there was a slight arc to his left brow as he awaited her response.

With a timid smile, she stepped forward and took his hand. He guided her to the closer of the two chairs at the table and waited to ensure she was comfortable in hers before taking a seat in the other. The captain then removed the domes from the plates and poured two cups of tea.

The mage blushed when a small rumble rose from her stomach upon observing the steam rising from a most delectable looking stack of hearthcakes. The only thing she had eaten in days was the bit of bread she had taken a few nibbles from at the inn where she and the captain met, and that wound up in a bucket the prior evening.

Miriana concentrated on her food as she picked up the silver fork and knife lying next to her plate. With still trembling fingers, she cut a small piece of the pancake and took a bite. It was absolutely delicious. Even if she weren’t starving, it was still the best hearthcake she had ever tasted. After she had taken a few bites, Captain Hawke finally broke the silence between them.

“Not too bad, then, love?” he questioned.

She waggled her head with a shy smile, still unable to meet the man’s eyes. “It’s delightful, Captain. Thank you. My compliments to your ship’s cook.”

The pirate produced a hearty chuckle. “Trust me, love, Ramirez has never cooked anything that even closely resembles food, let alone anything palatable. I thought your first meal on my lady should be something that wouldn’t make you want to throw yourself over the rails.”

A small giggle escaped her lips. She had to wonder, if it wasn’t’ the cook, then who? He was the captain of the ship. Surely he hadn’t prepared the meal himself.

Don’t be stupid, Miri. Gerard would never cook his own meals. He’s a pirate captain. He has a crew to perform such tasks.

She looked up to observe him insert a forkful of his own meal into his mouth with the same smile he bore upon greeting her that morning. He studied her thoughtfully as he chewed his food, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Miriana took a sip of her tea before asking her next question.

“So your cook’s assistant, then?” she questioned.

He shook his head. “No, love,” he replied as he picked up his own cup. “I’m afraid I’m the guilty party.”

The mage nearly choked on her tea upon hearing his admission. She could scarcely believe he had gone to so much trouble for the likes of her. Her book never once mentioned that Gerard cooked, let alone did it so well. She presented him with another smile.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said. “But you needn’t have gone through so much effort for me.”

“No trouble at all, love,” he told her. “Most days, I just suffer with Ramirez’s concoctions, but I didn’t want to put you through that kind of torture. You’d have been begging me to drop you off at the nearest port, and I must admit…I am rather enjoying your company.”

Miriana felt her face grow warm, and she was forced to return her attention to her food. Was he being genuine in his compliment or was it just empty flattery? She was so awkward, how could he possibly find pleasure in spending time with her? Before she could stop herself, she gave voice to her inner musings.

“You’re so different than I imagined,” she whispered.

“How’s that, love?” he queried. She peered up to note the puzzlement in his green-blue eyes. “What do you mean by different?”

Her face flushed crimson as she struggled to find the words to best retract the statement she never meant to make. “I…I mean,” she hesitated. “For a pirate.”

“Oh,” he chortled. “Just between you, me, and my lady, I’m not much of a pirate. Leastwise not these days.”

She watched his gaze fall to the bed behind her and immediately felt fluttering in her stomach. Miriana held her breath, awaiting a proposal she was certainly not prepared for. Is that why he said he enjoyed her company? So she would allow him into her bed? Could the kindness he showed to her have been leading up to him expecting a more intimate payment for her passage on his ship? Her shoulders slumped. Of course, it was exactly the sort of thing Gerard would do.

He indicated to the piece of furniture with a tilt of his head. “So you read?” he asked.

She exhaled the air she had been holding in her lungs. It was not the question she expected. She immediately chided herself for thinking the worst of the man. So far, he had done nothing to indicate he had any desire for her. Her brow creased when she realized she was actually a bit disappointed.

“Yes,” she finally answered.

“I do a bit of reading myself,” he told her. “It helps with the downtime on the ship. In fact, one of the walls of my cabin is little more than a bookshelf. You’re welcome to borrow any of my books if you’d like.”

For the first time since she met him, Miriana really looked at the man sitting before her. Her lids narrowed as she studied his face. His physical description matched Gerard’s almost perfectly. He was a bit older than Cirrav Sarthet had written him, but it was to be expected given the age of the book. At the same time, there were differences, subtle, yet glaring. Was it him or not? She had to know. She wrestled past her apprehension to finally ask the question that had been burning in her mind.

“I take it Hawke is a surname?” she inquired, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by her forwardness.

“Yes,” he replied with an uneven grin. “My given name is Garrett. Terrible moniker for a pirate. So, I decided to drop it in favor of Hawke.”

“I think Garrett is a lovely name,” the mage said with a smile. “But I suppose it isn’t very piratey.”

The captain shrugged. “You can call me Garrett, if you prefer. I certainly don’t mind the sound of it coming from your lips.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Cap…Garrett. And you may call me Miri, if you wish.”

His smile broadened. “Miri, hmm?” He paused to take another sip from his cup. “Well, Miri, I’m curious. What kind of stories do you like? I prefer a good mystery myself, but I have all sorts of books.”

“I like adventures,” she replied, she leaned forward in her seat, her timidity completely forgotten in light of the topic of their conversation. “Epic tales of heroes and the struggles they face as they fight malevolence and evil. And stories of pirates on the open sea battling great storms and the creatures of the deep.”

“I’m afraid it’s not all that exciting most of the time, love,” he admitted. “Most days, it’s just sailing calm waters and praying to the spirits that you catch a fair wind to your next port of call. But there’s a freedom to the sea that I wouldn’t trade for all the gold in Thedas.”

The mage ran her fingers across the rim of her teacup. “I suppose I must sound rather childish to you,” she whispered with a morose frown.

“Not at all, love,” he assured her. When she peered up at him he gave her a wink. “I never said there weren’t any adventures.” He leaned back in his chair with cup and saucer in hand and took another sip before asking, “So what’s your favorite book?”

She grinned. “It’s called, The Pirate Gerard. My father gave it to me as a present for my last birthday before I was taken to the Circle.” Garrett answered her admission with a roll of his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he sighed. “Let’s just say, I’m not a fan. The dwarf who wrote those books is a friend of mine. I was less than pleased when he used my ship and my image for his own profit. Piracy at its finest, if you ask me.”

“I knew it,” Miriana whispered then quickly covered her mouth in hopes he hadn’t heard.

The annoyed expression he wore altered to another friendly smile. “I have the entire collection in my cabin, if you’re interested, signed by the author. Every time he finishes one, he sends me an advanced copy. I don’t know why I’ve kept them, except for the fact that they might become valuable someday on Varric’s hopefully untimely demise.”

“There are more than just the one?” the mage inquired, unable to hide her excitement even in the light of the captain’s obvious distaste for the books.

“Six in all,” he told her as he set his cup and saucer back on the table. “I’ll send the second volume along with Carlos when he comes to gather the dishes.” He pointed to a small cabinet in the opposite corner. “For now, though, if you don’t mind, I need to look through that cabinet for a chart. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Miriana’s shoulders slumped with a small sigh. Her enthusiasm over the tales of Gerard had obviously agitated the captain. She hadn’t meant to upset him. It was the last thing she wanted to do. It figured. She was just beginning to grow more comfortable in his presence and then completely mucked it up.

“Of course, Captain,” she said with a slight shrug as he made his way to the opposite corner.

She assumed her offense earned a retraction of his earlier offer to refer to him by his given name. He rifled through the cabinet a few minutes and withdrew a large piece of parchment. After scanning it for a long moment, he rolled it up and strode back to the table. He took her hand and bowed before placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“Thank you, love,” he said with a smile then let go of her hand as he returned to his full height. “For allowing me to invade your privacy and for sharing a meal with me. And it’s Garrett, remember?”

Miriana’s cheeks flushed as she returned his grin. “If you’re certain…Garrett.”

“Of course I’m certain, love,” he reiterated. “Perhaps we can speak later? If you don’t mind the company of an old pirate.”

“That would be lovely, Garrett,” she answered. “I look forward to it.”

Ramirez really was the worst cook I had ever met back then. The crew often recommended using his concoctions as weapons during battle. I thought many times about getting someone new for the ship, but, even ignoring the fact that he saved me as a young babe, he was sharp as a tack and a loyal and honorable man.

It was quite some time yet before Miri allowed me to see her with her reading glasses on. Her need for them embarrassed her, but I thought she looked stunning in them. Back then, Miri and I couldn’t have been more different. She was timid and shy, soft spoken and a bit naive where I, on the other hand, was none of the above. The one thing we most certainly shared, however, was our love for reading. We spent a great deal of time over the years discussing the different books we had read. Thankfully, other than asking me to relate the true tales of those stories, she rarely made me discuss those ridiculous Gerard books. Damned dwarf.

-G
- 40
- 41
- 42
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight