romdeau | a fishing date;

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a fishing date;

There were no impromptu trips to Sundermount, in fact. Merrill had holed herself up with the Eluvian, avoiding Hawke whenever possible. The Arulin'Holm stayed at the estate, locked away somewhere, and the Dalish woman didn't want to see or hear from Hawke without good cause. Which was understandable (upsetting, but understandable), and she let Varric and Isabela take over Merrill's undertaking. They'd update her whenever possible and she was infinitely grateful, though she knew things couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually, they'd need to talk, and that would happen when Marian was good and ready. For now, she wasn't.

First on her mind was Anders and his mage underground. He would disappear for days on end, surfacing only to work in his clinic where he would refuse to go on any errands. Too busy, he'd say, occupied with his patients and his manifesto. It didn't stop him from pressing worn papers into her hands at every opportunity, the bastard. Her desk was full of Anders' scrawl, damning evidence if anyone should walk in and ask about it. She'd been certain to lock them in the bottom drawer, out of sight and out of mind, but she couldn't put him off any more than she could push aside the trouble she had with Merrill.

With her hands full of Kirkwall's smaller troubles - bandits, a few raiders on the outskirts, and a blood mage or two - she had nearly forgotten her plans with Cullen until she returned one night to a note on her desk at the end of the week. Even such a simple thing was enough to brighten her mood considerably and she packed that evening, though she wasn't to meet him for two more days.

She used the time to tell only a few that she'd be gone from the city, that no one was kidnapping her, and that she'd be very cross if she came back to find Kirkwall burning in her absence. Only Isabela and Varric gave her a hard time for her attempts at discretion, asking for details and gaining nothing.

By sunset on the second day, she was down by the docks to meet him, a pack slung over one arm and her blades across her shoulders, her eyes on the ships and the few workers lingering around. She couldn't be too careful, even now.

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He nodded. "There was a lot of resentment at first. I had an uphill fight on my hands." He didn't seem as though he resented the fact. He had expected it. Promotions like that didn't happen without people doubting and talking.

"No, her rank...that has nothing to do with what I meant," he agreed. Meredith wasn't the sort who was supportive for empathy's sake alone. If she hadn't believed him up to the task or useful, he wouldn't have received the time of day from her. He knew that.

"It helped a lot, having someone see me in a way I had a hard time seeing myself. Eventually, I didn't need that any more. I'm still grateful. I doubt I need to tell you what that's like. You've gained the admiration of an impressive array of people difficult to impress in your time in Kirkwall, well before this Champion business."

"She's just that sort of person. When she says something, you believe it." A testament to Meredith's personal strength. It wouldn't have been the same at all if she was a frequently empathetic person.

She shook her head. "Your strength is your own. She knew you'd rise to the occasion if you just believed in yourself. I'm glad she gave you the promotion; you're a more responsible and dedicated individual than many of the others who could have had the title." The thought of Ser Alrik ever having that sort of power made her bristle. "You made the title worth the admiration of others."

"Yes, exactly so," he said. It was a relief to hear someone he respected say something in Meredith's favor. The criticism had grown through the years to the point that at times he wondered if what he thought he still saw was really there at all or if he wasn't blinded by his own gratitude and loyalty. It was a disturbing thought. Nightmares weren't the only thing that sometimes kept him awake at night.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence. I truly do." It meant even more coming from someone he was almost certain had hated him at one point. "And I try. That's not going to change. For all of its flaws, Kirkwall is home now." Perhaps his reasons for feeling that way had room to expand. He glanced at her from the sides of his eyes and took another swallow of his ale. That thought disturbed his equilibrium to a degree, unbidden and out of the blue as it had come.

"When she was there in Hightown during the Qunari attack, she rescued my companions and I from a Saarebas on her own. She took its head off without batting an eye." At the time, she'd only been awestruck and grateful for the assiassistance. It hadn't been until later, days after the fact, that she'd imagined the downward stroke of the sword might have been used on plenty of other mages before that one. It didn't diminish her respect for the woman but it did remind her that there was a reason why she was feared.

One eyebrow rose in curiosity as she took another swig of her drink. She couldn't read the look in his eyes, even if she met his gaze easily. "Do you think you'll never go back to Ferelden? Not even to visit?"

"That was a crazy night, people being dragged away, others killed. I was grateful the Qunari look so differently from the rest of us. It made it easier to know who you were attacking in the darkness, at least," he said. He recalled Meredith's account to him later about the meeting and everything that transpired afterward. She had been genuinely impressed with Hawke, if not uneasy about her choices in friends.

"I'm not sure if there's anything for me to go back to. I don't know. I haven't given it much thought since coming here. I was so focused then on putting everything behind me, and I've been so busy since then. What do you think you would have done if you hadn't been forced to leave Lothering? What might you be doing now?"

She nodded. "One point in our favor. Aveline and I were right there when the Arishok gave the order. I was afraid the fighting and destruction would be so bad that we'd be stuck at the docks for too long." And then Aveline's men and the nobles might have perished, hoping for help. Or perhaps Meredith and Orsino might have managed.

"Nothing so grand as what I do here, I assure you," she joked, a faint smile on her face. Ironically, her next sip of ale left a more somber expression on her face. "I don't know what I'd be doing. Maintaining our tiny home? Running from Templars again to protect Bethany? Killing giant spiders? We had a spider problem, you know." She was left shrugging with uncertainty. "Small things. A quiet little life looking out for my family."

"I'd say it's a miracle you got out of there, except that I don't lay those kinds of odds when it comes to either of you." Hawke or Aveline alone were forces to be reckoned with. Together they managed things that kept them the talk of the city in different ways.

"I had heard that about Lothering, believe it or not. It must have been a Void of a spider problem for word to reach us all the way at the Hold." He couldn't remember how he had heard it or in what context, likely talk from Templars who traveled there on duty. "I feel like I can't say that would have been...a waste of talent without delivering some sort of unintended insult, but I genuinely believe that. I suppose it's testimony to how good things can come from bad."

"Nothing stops Aveline. Not darkspawn, not the undead, not Qunari." There was pride there, in her tone and in her small smile. She might get on Aveline's had side and get an iron cuff to the back of her neck every now and then, but she would always have her back. "When I met her, she tackled a darkspawn, beat it in the face, and then take off its head. She's every bit as fearsome a fighter as Meredith to me."

She chuckled. "Large, nasty things. As bad as the ones on the Coast." She stretched out her legs and rolled her shoulders back. "Kirkwall saved me from a droll life in a quiet town and it's taken just as much as it's given me. But it's where my home is now until I have reason to leave."

Edited 2012-09-16 04:04 (UTC)

"I can believe it easily," he said. "And I can't disagree with you. The Guard-Captain is highly impressive."

He gave a light shudder. "Have I mentioned I hate those spiders?" He would rather fight wolves and bears, even undead, rather than the large arachnids. He couldn't begin to catalog the reasons why. There were far too many.

"It has taken from you, yes," he said a little more quietly. He knew that he was part of that, like it or not and for better or worse. He tipped his bottle neck toward hers. "Here's hoping you don't have any reason to leave any time too soon. I think I've gotten more than a little used to having you around. I would have said that before the dates, too."

She laughed softly. "You make it sound as if someone likes the blighted things. I have it on good authority that no one does...except that man in the Gallows who needs their webbing for Maker knows what." And he still didn't like dealing with them himself.

After a pause, she met him halfway to touch bottles, neck to neck. Her smile was small but no less genuine. "Flatterer. Have no fear; I won't be leaving Kirkwall anytime soon. You'll be seeing me around for some time yet if I have anything to say about it." After all, Bethany wasn't going anywhere. She at least had one reason, if nothing else, to stick around...though she'd be lying if she said it was her only motivation to remain.

"Sol?" He chuckled. "I'll give him this. He's dedicated to his craft. It means he doesn't get out much, but anything you bring him will be put to good use."

His smile lingered and he took a long swallow of the ale. "Good. I plan on holding you to that, Sera." He settled a little further down and stretched his legs out, looking up at the star speckled sky. His head rested against the mast behind him, and he let out a sound of contentment. His limbs felt heavy and relaxed, both from their previous activity and the alcohol. He took the last bite of his cheese and licked his finger free of a couple of little crumbs.

"Oh, he's very good at what he does. I simply wish I didn't need to cut through spiders and dragons to get what he needs." And, frankly, she was fairly curious to see how he worked, what he did to create his more unique items. But that was probably just her.

Her smile curved at the edges. "If I skip off somewhere without word for far too long, you have permission to kick me when I return. Maker knows my sister would cuff me at the very least for it."

She contented herself to finishing her ale and then standing once more to walk the short length of the boat. Her eyes roamed over him once until they settled on the other bottles at his feet. She couldn't help her grin. "Anyone who gets a look into this boat is going to think we drowned ourselves in liquor." Which couldn't be further from the truth, she realized, as she glanced over the side where they had let out their bait traps.

"It does seem unfair that the most useful things are also the hardest to obtain, doesn't it? Why can't elfroot be the key to invulnerability?" he asked.

"I may decide to come after you if that's the case. You never know." It would depend upon if she left a good enough trail and how concerned the friends of hers who had stayed behind were as to whether they'd share the information with him. He could easily see himself trying.

"That's the story I'll be telling. What did we do? Funny you'd ask. All I remember is drinking and spending half the night hanging over the side of the boat paying for it." He managed to get it out with a straight face.

"It probably is. But no one has the coin to pay for a potion at every meal. Although...something like powdered dragon teeth do seem poetic enough to make for the recipe for something special. Eternal life, perhaps."

Something flickered behind her eyes, perhaps the old instinct of fight-or-flight, though her smile mitigated it. "Would you? Meredith might not take too kindly to her captain running off." Unless she authorized it, which was equally an exciting and frightening prospect.

She chuckled. "Added chum for bait?" Immediately, she winced. "Ugh, never mind. Bad joke."

"If you can pull a dragon's tooth, do you need a potion for that?" he asked.

He saw the look, not entirely sure how to read it, his head tipping very slightly. "I haven't taken a day off since I got here. Do you have any idea how much leave I have built up?" There was a teasing light in his eyes.

That had him laughing. "Ohhhh. That was awful. Really awful."

"How about I bring you next time and you can find out? It'll be some hands-on experience," she said with a sly look in her eye. "And then you can impress all of your recruits when you come back with it."

She raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like you have weeks in reserve." Which brought a thoughtful look to her face. "...Do you?"

Hawke knelt to drop a hand over the side into the water. She brought it back to flick water at him with what might have passed for a scowl if she wasn't nearly in the throes of laughter. "Shush, you."

"Oh, sure. Ruin me for every other date ever," he said. "Well, I'd like to go to dinner with you, I suppose, but it's no dragon hunt with Marian Hawke." He sighed dramatically.

He simply smiled for the question, brows lifting slightly. He had lost track some time ago of how much he actually had, likely more than he would ever be allowed to take at one time without a very compelling reason beyond "I want to". Snickering, he flinched away from the water droplets as though they were colder than they were. "Trying to melt me?"

Since he had seen her looking toward the traps, he found himself doing the same. "You know if we pull them up, we probably can't put them down again. Whatever we have or don't is what we're stuck with. What do you think?" He had no idea what time it was, only that it was important that they get back to the docks before there was too much of a crowd in the morning, because they also needed to haul their catch back to her place.

"I know. It's terrible how I'm spoiling you," she lamented. "There's also the hike there, the camping, and trudging all the way back after you've been thoroughly thrashed around like a rag doll. On the brighter side, dragon scales will put some gold in your pocket and you'll have a fascinating tale. Recruits will watch you go by and will gaze in awe and wonder at the Knight-Captain. What demon could ever hope to challenge a man who's felled a dragon?"

That smile only piqued her curiosity. She didn't follow up with further questions. Instead, it relaxed her somewhat; if he had enough days to take as a vacation, she wouldn't feel like she was getting him in trouble for dragging him away. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Melt you? Perish the thought. I would have to row myself back to Kirkwall only to be beheaded by Meredith. But if that is some great weakness, I'm glad I know of it now. I can put it to good use another time," she teased.

Honestly, she hadn't the slightest clue if they'd been successful or not. She glanced upwards at the sky, trying to gauge the time but to no avail. "I don't know. It would be a shame if we brought them up and had nothing." She frowned, glancing at the water as if it would give her an answer. "...We have to have gotten something. What do you think?"

"So when do we leave?" he asked, eyes bright. It was very difficult to tell whether he was joking or not. Perhaps not even he knew for certain.

"You could just tell her I fell overboard trying to save us from sea monsters. She'd never think to check the boat for residue. She doesn't know I'm sweet." That was it. He couldn't get another word out without dissolving into laughter. Now who was being awful with the humor? He rolled his eyes at himself and put his face in his hands briefly.

"I say let's do it. Do or die. Never say never." He stood and reached down for the pole with the hook on the end specifically designed for raising the traps. He offered it to her with a flourish that had him staggering a step or two to keep his footing. Clearing his throat and pretending it didn't happen, he said, "Would you like the honors of the first trap?"

Her laughter, this time, was much longer than before. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled or laughed so much with someone. She had to wait until they weren't both chortling before she could speak again. "Offering to go on suicidal adventures and giving me excuses to get out of trouble with your commanding officer? You're either entirely insane or I've corrupted you already." Her smile was definitely fond, something she'd realize later. "Not that I'm complaining in the slightest, mind you."

Never say never. But he was full of surprises tonight, wasn't he? Hawke grinned at the faint stumble, saying absolutely nothing. Instead, she bowed her head as though she was accepting the title of Champion once more, taking the pole from him. "It would be my honor, Sera." Careful with it, she dipped it into the water until she could feel it tap against the side of one of the traps. A flick of her wrist maneuvered it into place, the hook grabbing one of the rungs. She balanced the weight and set one foot back, uncertain how heavy it'd be until she started moving it.

"Oh, this one has something," she said. It could have mostly been water, of course, which was a thought that didn't cross her mind until she pulled the trap out of the water. The weight lifted for the most part, and there were two crabs inside of their first trap. One was much smaller than the other, hardly enough to be boiled and fed to a cat. The other, however, was large enough to be suitable. Her grin was wide. "There we go."

"It could be both. There's a scary thought," he said cheerfully.

He watched her, eager to see what might be in the trap. It looked like it might be heavy. He braced himself against the side so that he could lean for a better view. He laughed when he saw what they had managed. "Maker, if this is what we have to look forward to in all of the others, we'll have just enough to make some fancy Orlesian dish that's all plate with a tiny dollop of food. We ought to throw that little one back. There's bound to be some natural retribution for eating babies, wouldn't you think?"

When she had it close enough to the boat, he reached over to help pull it in and set it out of the way. "That was our test trap." He straightened up and gestured at the water. "The next one is the full one. I'm sure of it."

"And dangerous." But she wasn't afraid of the implications. Not yet.

She chuckled as she brought the trap closer for him to grab and she peered into it with him. "If the dog doesn't eat it first," she said, eying the smaller crab. "Better to send that little one back if we don't want to be stuck out here. Or eaten by monstrous crab creatures." One eyebrow raised. "They could exist, you know." She might have been joking a little.

She stepped back to the side to dip the pole right back into the water in her search for the second trap. "That's confident of you. All right, this one is it." It took her a few more moments to find the second cage and she twisted the hook to grasp the trap. She pulled, surprised at the weight. "Ah. Hold on..." This was going to require a little more effort already. She pulled, dragging it above the water with some difficulty. Even without the weight of the water, it was still heavy, and it became apparent why: there were five, good sized crabs in the second trap, with one smaller one hanging on at the bottom.

"We're off the Wounded Coast. I'm not discounting the possibility of anything," he agreed. "Giant crabs are no less plausible than giant spiders. The only difference is we don't run around underwater to see them." He opened the trap and reached in to fish out the little one, tossing it back into the water before it could reach down and pinch him.

By that time she had the other one on the way up. He looked genuinely pleased with that haul, and as he had with the last little one, he pulled the smallest away and tossed it back. He hauled the dripping box over the edge and set it beside the first. "Now I wouldn't mind sharing with the dog," he said, flashing her a grin.

"The Maker has a sense of humor," she muttered, mostly believing it. If Lothering - little, quiet, bumbling Lothering - could have giant spiders, wolves, and bears...then Kirkwall probably had giant crabs at the very least, if not some other blighted monstrosity somewhere in the city itself. Varric had her convinced of that.

Stepping back, she helped ease the box onto the boat for him to take. "Careful. He could still probably eat this many without any trouble." Glutton dog. She knelt down to look at them better. "If he thinks he's getting more than one for himself, then he's delusional." She said that now but those big, sad eyes could get her every single time.

"You know, I've always believed that," he said. Too many things in life were far too absurd for him to see it any other way. The fact that at times He seemed to be laughing at His creations wasn't lost on the Templar. He saw no reason to be bitter about it. It was just as often it seemed He was laughing with them.

"Hmmm." Did he sound skeptical? Perhaps just a little! He flashed her a knowing smile and stood to take the pole. "Does he like them cooked or raw?"

He pushed the hook beneath the water and felt around beneath one of the floating bladders. It took a little twisting until he felt it catch. Weren't things in water supposed to be lighter? As he hauled it up, the reason for the weight became apparent, a large mass of water weed atop the trap. "Oh, here's the salad," he said with a grunt, dragging it in close so they could get rid of it. Three decent sized crabs and two small ones clicked and waved their legs from between the slats once the trap was revealed.

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