This was cut from the chapter I just posted earlier today, but I like it, so I think it’s going at the beginning of the next! Hopefully that one doesn’t take me another 6 months to polish up…but in case it gets cut again, HERE! HAVE SOME OF MY MESS!
Context: Merrill, Isabela, and Hawke have just gone out for the first time in a month because they’ve been sailing around as fugitives post-DA2. Fenris has also not been drinking much because the wine they had on the ship was crap. But he apparently found something he liked…(I actually really like port, but there’s a reason they serve it in cute tiny glasses…and this was inspired by a fancy dinner with my MIL, who didn’t quite understand that…)
“Oh thank the Maker you’re back!” Varric huffed as Isabela led the search for late-night snacks into the galley.
“What happened?” Isabela asked, looking around for any sign of intruders or a fight.
“Hawke…come and get this drunken idiot!”
Fenris slowly looked up from where he’d been sitting with his head down at the other end of the table. “…Hawke?” He looked like he was struggling to support the weight of his own face, let alone the rest of him.
“We were just playing Diamondback and he was drinking this…” Varric nudged the bottle toward Isabela with his elbow. It was unlabelled, but it looked just like any of the other wine bottles they’d found on board.
Isabela took a swig. “Ugh!” she grunted in disgust. “That’s not wine! It’s Antivan port…it has like, triple the alcohol content. Where did you find this?”
“In the cabinet…” Fenris muttered, setting his head back down on the table. “The one Hawke and I found the night she told me she loved me…oh Hawke!” He struggled to lift his head back up again. “You’re back…” he giggled.
Hawke felt her insides churn at the sound of it. She’d heard that giggle before…but he’d been asleep, dreaming about her, and Anders, and their children. Not drunk. She wondered if she might ever get a chance to hear it when he was awake and sober.
“Castillon probably kept it around as a tonic for head colds. A couple sips, and it’ll knock your ass right out, along with whatever ails you.”
“Well, he chugged half the bottle,” Varric informed her.
“Mmm…” Fenris mumbled. “It tasted like wine candy…”
“Oh, hun,” Isabela was shaking her head at him. “Your sweet tooth!”
“Is he going to be alright?” Hawke asked.
“No…” Fenris groaned.
“Yes. But I don’t know how he’s still conscious.”
“…festis bei umo canavarum!”
Isabela tried hard to stifle her own laughter, while Merrill’s eyes grew wide with concern. Varric just shook his head.
“Um, what?” Hawke asked.
“Nevermind…” Varric stood up and prepared to heave one of Fenris’ arms over his shoulder. “He insisted on waiting up for you, and now that you’re back…”
Fenris swatted him away, nearly falling to the floor in the process. “For Hawke! I have to wait for her. I promised Aveline…and I already failed the mage…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…well, look! Here she is! Time for bed, elf!”
“I don’t want to go to bed with you, dwarf!” Fenris hissed, trying to kick him even further away and missing him by three whole feet as he fell to the floor in a mess of limbs flailing in slow-motion.
“Not this again…” Varric threw his hands up in the air and stomped off toward his room.
“Hawke?” Fenris called out from the floor.
Isabela wasn’t even trying to hide her laughter anymore.
“Yes. I’m still here.”
“You’re back! I was so worried…”
“Oh, how sweet!” Merrill finally blurted out.
“I’m fine, Fenris. We’re fine. You, on the other hand…”
“Not fine…” Fenris shook his head groggily from side to side as he tried to stand up.
“No. It certainly doesn’t seem like it.” She was doing a much better job of not laughing at him than Isabela, who was nearly doubled over. “Would you like to lay down in a bed instead of on the floor?”
“Yes. With you. Please?”
Hawke blushed. She knew what he meant. Just sleeping. But she knew how the others would take it.
Isabela guffawed all over again, and Merrill was still beaming at them.
“You got this, hun!” Isabela winked, as Hawke helped Fenris up and then allowed him to slump half-conscious against her side.
She gave her one last exasperated glare before leading him toward their room.
“Poor Fenris…” Merrill lamented, tucking an arm around Isabela’s elbow.
“He’ll be fine…” Isabela turned to her, a giant smile plastered across her face. “It’s fucking adorable, isn’t it?”
“I really hope they don’t fuck it up…”
“They’ve already managed to make it through so many other horrible things. I don’t think they will.”
Isabela wrapped her arm around Merrill’s waist. “C’mon…let’s go to bed.”
I think I posted part of this as a WIP more than half a year ago. But…um…I finally revised/finished the rest of the chapter and posted it on AO3! Yay for progress on beloved, but long-neglected, WIPs!!!
Our supposedly-dead fugitives land in Brandel’s Reach and receive some encouraging news about Kirkwall.
Just Fly lockscreens edits made by me :)
No, this isn’t about Anders for a change! And nobody specifically asked for this, but I’m full of soft Merribela feels tonight, sooo…
(Please disregard the dead bodies…nothing to see there, really…)
Isabela sauntered over to where Merrill was bent down over one of the dead raiders, checking his pockets for interesting loot.
“You would think pirates would have more exciting things,” the little elf mused. “Or at least more coin on them…”
“These lads were desperate. Haven’t had a paycheck in months, I imagine. This place doesn’t exactly attract those who are doing particularly well to begin with.”
“Oh, it’s a shame, then, isn’t it?”
“Yes…? I suppose.”
“Are you going to hire some of them?”
“On you, mostly.” Isabela coughed. “I mean…and Hawke, and Fenris, though I assume his fate is tied to hers from here on out. And Varric.”
“Well, if you wish to stay aboard. For awhile. Or if you…”
“I don’t think the pirate life is for me,” Merrill muttered apologetically.
“No?” Isabela looked away from her, busying herself with rummaging through another dead man’s pockets. She didn’t want her to see the devastation in her face. “I didn’t think so…”
Merrill grabbed her hand, pulling it away from what remained of one of the raiders Fenris had just decapitated. “I already checked that one.”
She stood up, pulling Isabela with her, forcing her to look at her as she grabbed her other hand as well. “I don’t want to be a pirate, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want, ummm…what would you say we have?”
“A…relationship?” Isabela was being cautious, guarding her heart. A lifelong habit. Merrill knew this. Knew her. Knew all of her defenses and how to wait them out.
“Yes. That.” Merrill beamed up at her. “I want that, still!”
“Hmmm…good.” Isabela couldn’t help but flash an earnest smile at her. And Merrill felt as though the clouds had begun to open up and there were sunbeams shining down on her, even though it was the middle of the night. “Yeah…”
“Yes…for as long as you’ll have me!”
“What’s that, then?” Merrill grinned, and if Isabela didn’t know her so very well, she’d have completely missed the mischief in it. But Merrill wasn’t blushing or confused or hard of hearing. She looked up at her expectantly, waiting, with one eyebrow raised. She might as well have been tapping her foot.
Isabela groaned. “I suppose you deserve better than this.” She kicked the looted corpses off the edge of the gangplank and they hit the water with a clumsy splash.
“No!” Merrill gasped. “I mean…that’s not – it just would be nice to hear you say…”
“I love you, Kitten!” Isabela huffed. “Merrill. I love you!”
She took a deep breath, and felt Merrill squeeze her hands in excitement. Or to steady her, maybe? Why was she suddenly trembling like this?
“I love you,” she repeated, a bit slower this time. “With everything I’ve got. Everything I’ll ever have to give. I love you…”
It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from Isabela. A weight she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying. Her shoulders…her neck…her chest, and her heart, which had felt like it was being squeezed to death just moments ago, suddenly felt open and free. The relief was very nearly overwhelming, like she was about to be flung from the deck of the ship up into the clouds if Merrill weren’t still holding her hands. But now that she’d finally said it, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“I love you!” She was practically giggling now. And Isabela didn’t giggle.
Merrill laughed, too. “That’s…beautiful, Isabela! Mah vhenan…” She wrapped her arms around her torso and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Thank you. I love you, too.”
“How could you ask that?!” Merrill looked up at her in distress, her eyes near bursting. “You are my heart! Did you not know?”
Isabela laughed, and Merrill’s brows unfurled in relief as she gathered her into her arms. “I mean, I know what the word means. But…yours, eh?”
“It means that. Yes. And more…” Merrill blushed and nuzzled into her chest. Her small frame fit perfectly against Isabela’s warm, soft curves.
“Oh, Kitten,” Isabela sighed, a goofy, lovestruck grin creeping across her face. Why had she put this off for so fucking long?
“Hmmm?” Merrill purred against her collarbone.
“I don’t deserve even half of the happiness you bring me.”
“Oh psh…stop that!” She swatted playfully at her. “You sound like Fenris!”
“Fine. I do deserve to be this happy.” She buried her face into the top of Merrill’s head. “And so do you…” she muttered into her hair, closing her eyes and breathing her in.
“You make me happy, too!” Merrill tipped her head back and kissed her. She noticed then that there were tears in her heart’s brassy sunset-colored eyes. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss them away before they dared to stain her cheeks. “Um, vhenan…?”
“Do you think we could go back to our room? And…discuss…things…a bit more…in depth?”
The ever-wonderful @serial-chillr tagged me on this blessed WIP Wednesday (HAPPY Dragon 4ge D4Y, everyone!!!)…
Here’s something fun (I think) from an upcoming chapter of Part III: Fly Away, of my previously mentioned lifelong-WIP, Lost and Found: The Misadventures of Marian Hawke and Everyone She Meets, that I’ve been working on polishing up for…oh…six months? ;)
Context: Isabela and Merrill and Varric and Fenris and Hawke have fled via Isabela’s new ship to Brandel’s Reach at the end of DA2, and some of Castillon’s people ambush them, intending to reclaim his ship from Isabela. But, like, obviously, the good guys win…then it gets saucy! (In this world state, this is the first real kiss for Fenris and Hawke since “A Bitter Pill” and things have been heckin angsty…)
As Hawke straightened up from her last kill, panting, with a wickedly victorious grin in his direction, a couple of stragglers came flying down from the mast pole between them, swords out, aiming straight for her. Fenris phased across the deck of the ship, swinging his massive sword and separating their heads from their bodies before either of them even realized he was there.
He turned to Hawke, who was standing behind him in stunned awe, and in one motion grabbed her around the waist and pulled her all the way to his mouth for a kiss.
“You always celebrate your victories prematurely,” he growled into her mouth, without pulling away, even a little, as her hands, still holding her daggers, flailed helplessly behind her. She didn’t know what to do, what she was allowed to hold onto, if she could even kiss him back, and she certainly didn’t want to do anything that might put an end to this unexpected development.
He pressed his hand more firmly against her back, bringing her closer, leaning into her, over her, nearly bending her backwards, and her daggers fell onto the deck of the ship with two loud clangs. She felt like she was falling, and if it weren’t for Fenris’ hold on her, she’d be laying right there next to her blades on the floor.
He kissed her again. Her lips parted for him this time, and his tongue slid past her teeth, brushing against her own as she tilted her head back and slightly to the side, making more room for him, surrendering to him and letting his hand on her back and the arm he had wrapped around her carry the rest of her weight.
It was a different sort of kiss than the kind she and Anders had often shared in moments like this, with both of them reaching and grabbing impatiently at whatever they could get a hold of, tearing at clothes, intertwining limbs, pushing and shoving and wrestling with each other as their bodies negotiated haphazardly with one another for control, from nothing to everything as fast as they could manage.
There was no doubt that Fenris was firmly and decidedly in control here. And she was surprised by how much she actually enjoyed this feeling. Of being at his mercy…
Isabela stood watching them with her mouth hanging open, while Merrill and Varric both turned to see what had suddenly caught her attention, fearing another wave of attackers.
“Andraste’s flaming ass!” Varric muttered. “Now?!”
Catching sight of all three of them watching in varying degrees of shock and approval, Fenris let go of Hawke as suddenly as he had grabbed her, and she nearly fell backwards. His cheeks darkened instantly, the flush spreading all the way to his ears, and he ducked his head down, hoping he might become invisible. When he failed, he let out a disgruntled huff, then turned and stalked down the gangplank, in search of more murderous raiders to take his embarrassed frustration out on.
“Fenris! Wait!” Hawke shouted, before shooting Varric one of the dirtiest looks he’d ever seen as she caught her breath and chased after him.
“This doesn’t mean you win,” Varric grumbled to Isabela, as he slung his crossbow back over his shoulder.
“But I didn’t lose…” she grinned.
“You said two weeks. It’s been a month and a half! And they’re not exactly at ‘happily ever after’ yet.”
“No winners, then?” She stuck out her hand for him to shake. An extension of their little bet.
“No losers, either…yet.” He grasped her hand and shook it reluctantly. “And I hope, for their sake, it stays that way.”
Isabela smiled wide. “I’ll let you take me out for drinks when we get to Denerim.”
Fly away from here.
The sea houses the cold and cruel
I am there
The sky houses the warm and free
Rest on the surface and give me some time
I thought it was possible
I’d bleed on grass
Choke on the sun
Worth my last scream
I could pull
Drag to the depths of my cold
Closed in the wreckage of my soul
I’ll keep you safe
I’ll keep you hidden
Never fly again
Let me break them
I’ll be so gentle
There’s beauty here you’ll never see
Did you even want to
Can’t change what has been done
Go, let the wind take you home
The song of dreams is ringing
I’ll watch so near
As the first spring flowers blooms
There is no life here
Preach to the void it will listen
Harken to the silence, there’s pain
It’s okay, go without me as they do
Il desiderio di volare non tiene conto della paura di cadere
Mi hanno tagliato le ali, ma io andrò
Ph. by J. Knauer
‘Vorrei camminare in questa sera tranquilla, da sola e in silenzio
e in un tentativo impetuoso, alzarmi in volo, e planare, planare libera e straniera
e volare, e volare nell’infinita immensità del cielo’
Pic. by K. Derwinska
A poem by me.
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