tarysande: (Default)
tarysande ([personal profile] tarysande) wrote in [personal profile] owlmoose 2012-02-08 02:45 am (UTC)

Aftermath: Cullen/f!Hawke PG

"Where do you think you're going?"

Hawke jumped, startled, and then cursed herself for jumping. The last thing she needed was to show weakness. "Elsewhere," she retorted. "Unless you've changed your mind and have come to haul me in for my crimes?"

The Knight-Captain (no, she reminded herself: acting Knight-Commander, now) crossed his arms over his chest. The sound of metal scraping against metal put her teeth on edge and made her want to cry all at the same time. "You know that's not why I'm here."

It wasn't fair, really. He had no right sounding quite so wounded. His wasn't the life turned completely inside out and upside down by... by everything. Maker, he'd landed himself a promotion. She turned away from him, pushing random articles of clothing and spare potions and a ribbon that had once been her mother's into a pack.

"Hawke."

"In case you've forgotten, I was involved with some magnificently horrifying business earlier, Cul--Knight-Commander. Your support may have bought me time, but somehow I don't think the majority of your brethren will be quite so willing to turn a blind eye--"

"Hawke."

Pulling the drawstring tight, she hugged the pack to her chest as she turned, holding it like a shield between them. "I couldn't let them invoke the Right of Annulment. I couldn't."

He bowed his head, but not before she saw the sorrow and fear and, yes, anger crease his brow. "I know," he said. "Hawke--"

"So I--I'm sorry. I am sorry. But I wouldn't change my own actions today, not for anything. Not... not for anyone."

He raised his eyes to meet hers. "I wouldn't expect you to. It... it wasn't an easy choice you made today, but it was the right one. And I--"

She shook her head roughly. "Please, Cullen... please don't make this harder."

"Maker's breath, would you let me finish? I'm coming with you."

Her pack fell to the floor with a heavy thump--and the crash of what was most certainly a broken potion bottle--but Hawke only stared, lips slightly parted, eyes wide.

"I'm... I'm coming with you," he repeated, softly. "I-if you'll let me. If you'll have me."

Then her feet moved and she had her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to his before she could even think about stopping them. Seeking. Finding. He caught her about the waist with one arm, while his other hand swept up to tangle in her hair, and the feel of his lips on hers was the closest thing in the world she had to home.

"Good," he said, when they reluctantly parted. He still had his arms tight around her and his forehead pressed to hers. She felt inordinately pleased that she'd made him sound so breathless. "Good. That's settled, then."

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