The Night of the Hawke | By : DarkWolves Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 20087 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age and make no money by writing this. |
Epilogue
She was gliding through the air, soaring atop crimson wings. Her long brown hair fluttered in the breeze as she flew over the snow capped mountains of Sundermount, at the base of which grew a lush forest where the camp of her people grew larger and more prosperous with each passing year.On the horizon she could see the city of Kirkwall, its spires and towers of gleaming white rising above a city reborn after the flames of conflict had extinguished. A metropolis once ruled beneath the iron grasp of the Tevinter Imperium was now a free city unshackled by its dark past. In this city the elves were no longer confined to the slums of the Alienage, they were free to own property in Hightown, to trade and socialise with the humans, the dwarves and the many Elven tribes which passed through the city.
Feeling the happiness welling within her bosom she leant forward to nuzzle her nose into the soft neck of her proud mount, Feathers. Behind her Hawke wrapped her arms around her waist, burying the tip of her nose in the nape of her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin as she whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
Merrill leant back and held her arms aloft like wings gliding across the open skies. Finally, here she was safe, here she was free.
Merrill
She heard her voice being carried on the breeze and knew she had found her peace.
Merrill, Merrill, Merrill.
Merrill held her arms high, her eyes closed, her song of peace humming beneath her breath.
“Merrill” the voice repeated. “What are you doing?”
Merrill continued to embrace her fantasy immune to the reality of her human lover laid bare beneath her on the bed as she rode her stomach like a fine mount, her arms held aloft in an intimate parody of a golden griffon.
“I’m flying” the words blissfully escaped Merrill’s smiling lips.
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