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vasshoth · 10 years ago

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First Kisses

[This fic is part of The Sacred OT4]

Dim candlelight flickered on the walls of the Hanged Man in a way that seemed purposeful to Rees. No matter how business was, their candles were cheap and bought cheaper from the ragged kids that sold them in Darktown. It was easy enough to say that the patronage was endowed with enough gold to keep the place lit brighter than the sun, but still the ale was watered and only one candle was lit per corner. Sometimes, if Norah forgot, one would hiss and splutter and spit out into darkness until the clanging of mugs got the attention of the keep. Rees’ own candle had gone out behind her hours prior, but she had no mug to clang and no intention of speaking up. Her eyes adjusted easily to the dark like the light was an intruder.

Years of work in Darktown would do that to you.

At the end of the table sat her newest… companion, she’d say. Employer seemed too formal for Luca Hawke. Her hair was a cloud of yellow curls lit on fire around the edges by the warmth of the hearth light. She’d seemed unreal since the night the templars had come. Rees had been stranded in a back alley of Lowtown, surrounded by the fuckers and out of the blue there she was. She wanted to explanation, no convincing, and the look in her eyes softened when Bethany had crawled out of the crates she was hiding behind to staunchly insist that she could be a companion of Hawke’s as well.

Rees had been following her like a dumbstruck puppy ever since. Luca, that is. And following her to where, Rees couldn’t really say. Luca had a knack for being in exactly the right place at the worst possible time. She’d watched with narrowed eyes as Luca worked, palming gold and taking out her enemies with ruthless efficiency. She was a force to be reckoned with. It was like something out of the dwarf’s novels. But she stayed true to her word, and kept Rees and her sister safe. Even popped by out of the blue with odd looking dishes of cheese and bread baked for too long in an oven too hot. Strangely affectionate for an employer. Companion, Rees thought, was a better fit.

She leaned heavily on the white haired elf that had ripped a man’s heart from his chest. Fenris. He was new to the group and it showed. He still had the awestruck look Rees had surely suffered each time Luca dug deep into her pockets to fill his cup then asked for nothing in return. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder and flushed from the ale. She stared lazily at her cards and made a poor attempt to hide them from his view. He looked like a cross between happy and wary. It made his hair look like a ruffled up goose squatting on the top of his head. Goose. That’s good. I should keep that.

A warm hand rested on her thigh and Rees looked down. Gold rings and bangles glittered at her from where they caught the light and she followed the skin up to an ample breasts bulging out of a tight corset. Isabela’s lips quirked to the side and Rees knew the hesitation was a fatality. Gold hidden under heavy lashes held her gaze as she wordlessly pinched the top of Rees’ cards, and shifted it two cards to the right. Rees squinted down at her hand and saw, plain as day, a full house. She slammed the cards down face up on the table with a grin and lavished the looks of surprise. Even Norah noticed the ruckus and bustled over quickly to light the candle in the corner.

The rogue sank back into her chair again, happy to slip out of the conversation and stare at the small pile of gold being shuffled towards her across the table. She glanced back at Isabela who was watching without embarrassment.

“Going to buy me a drink with that?” The pirate asked.

“That’s cheating,” the rogue returned smoothly, fingering one of the coins between deft hands. She flicked it upwards and Isabela caught it effortlessly. Her lips pulled down into a pout and her hands slithered over to catch Rees by the wrist. Panic fluttered through Rees’ ribs but warm soothing skin pressed cold metal back into the palm of her hand. Isabela’s fingers lingered just a second too long and the look on her face told Rees that she’d meant to be caught.

“It is,” Isabela agreed with a wink. “An abhorrent practice, sweet thing. I would never.” Rees grinned and the pirate looked overjoyed. “She does smile! I thought we’d never see it. It’s such a lovely complement to such a lovely face. ”

“I smile,” Rees said tersely. She felt her smile vanish and knew it wasn’t helping, but she was hardly going to sit there and look like an idiot. Varric passed her a new stack of cards and she pretended to be suddenly very interested in them. Isabela’s fingernails scratched along the backs of the cards where she held them.

“Then show me again, Starlight. Let me see your teeth.”

Starlight. Luca’s nickname for her. Rees bared her teeth experimentally and the pirate laughed low and deep again.

“Beautiful. I would have difficulty smiling as well, if I held your hand.” Isabela’s eyebrow raised suggestively and it was hard not to imagine holding those warm hands. The coin was still pressed in her fist by her side. She flexed her fingers around it in thought, then slid her cards back onto the table face down.

“How do you do that?” She demanded. “I never showed you my cards. I’d barely even seen them myself.”

Isabela giggled and hid a coy smile behind her nearly empty mug. “I told you, Starlight. I don’t cheat.”

Rees snorted. “Bullshit.”

Isabela watched her like she was gauging whether or not a cobra would strike. Finally deciding to venture in, she brought a hand up slowly and tapped the side of Rees’ jaw. The rogue flinched back instinctively but forced herself to stay put. It was a stubborn mix of pride and blatant interest in the smiling lips dotted with gold. She clenched her fist around the coin as Isabela’s finger dragged along her jaw and curled under her chin. The pirate tugged her forward gently.

“This line here,” Her eyes locked on Rees’ lower lip and the rogue felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart was beating hard against her ribs and she could taste the perfume Isabela wore. Her ringed thumb stroked the line of her lip with featherlight touches, pulling the middle down just so. “This line twitches upwards when you hear bad news. Like a bad hand. Or a hard puzzle. It’s your tell.”

Rees kept her lips purposefully still and dragged her gaze away from the hand cupping her face to find Isabela just inches away. The pirate met her evenly, watching her face like a particularly good hand of cards.

“Well?” Rees breathed. “What is my face telling you now, captain?”

Isabela’s eyes narrowed just slightly, looking for the trap. Rees’s heart jumped out of her chest and punched through the roof as she saw those golden eyes close and felt the warmth of the pirate barely a breath away. She stayed there and waited for Rees to close the gap. Rees swallowed thickly and took the plunge.

Her perfume was like honey laced with poison and her hand tucked under Rees’ dreads like she’d been meaning to since they’d met. Her lips were hard with passion and soft when she meant to tease and Rees was lost, more drunk than she’d been in years without a single drop of wine. The pirate grinned into the kiss and growled a little against her nose. Rees didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to know what the aftermath of this was.

“Don’t tense up on me now, Starlight. Just a bit of fun.”

Her voice was velvet on silk. Rees shuddered and risked opening her eyes a sliver. Fun. Just a bit of fun. The words were like magic. The weight of reality and responsibility was discarded and the rogue grabbed Isabela by the waist frantically needing the crash of hot lips and breath like she was drowning.

“Not the point, mora.” Fenris growled. Mutt. Each word was over annunciated, like each was a measured blow. Rees snicked and rolled the words off her shoulder.

“It is the point. You can’t just condemn magic. It appears regar’less.” She paused only to take a long pull from the bottle of wine he handed her with a scowl. She scanned his face lightly, checking to make sure they hadn’t reached a personal ground in their argument. Scowl and furrowed eyebrows aside, his eyes still held the light of the fireplace and his expression was no less animate than when he fought. Good. “Magic doesn’t have an agenda, mages do.”

“Show me magic without a mage then,” he retorted. “Show me magic that remains neutral.”

“Easy.” Rees passed the bottle back to him. “Bethy’s runes. Y’know. Where she does the…” Rees waggled her hands in the shape of some symbols and made a haphazard casting motion. Fenris snickered and coughed through a mouthful of wine. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He said. “Still cast to harm. It is not neutral.”

“Well,” Rees paused. She pressed her lips together and frowned. “The caster isn’t. But the rune doesn’t know, right?”

He gave her a blank look.

She huffed, got up and stumbled around the room, looking for something to draw with. Her fingers flexed out of habit and she reached for her daggers. She took one of the elegant knife out of its sheath and crouched down on the dirty wooden floor. Fenris leaned forward in his chair, resting his cheek in his hand and his elbow on his knee. The wine bottle sagged lazily to the floor. Rees used the back of her hand to brush aside a few of the empty bottles cast away from previous nights and the dust that had amassed from negligence. It flew up in a cloud of smoke, making her cough.

Fenris laughed again. “Are you sure you’re from a noble line? I’ve seen more grace in nugs.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She carefully drew her dagger across the floor, scratching deep lines into the wood. Fenris feigned a grunt of disapproval, but did not pretend he cared about the floors any more than he cared for getting up at that moment so she continued. It was a lopsided circle with scribbled runes made up around the edges and a symbol that looked suspiciously phallic. She pointed to it and looked back at him from where she sat on her haunches. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s a glyph.” She explained. He looked at it critically. She rolled her eyes. “It’s a glyph.”

“Sure, mora.”

Rees slung her dagger back into her sheath and stood up, gesturing for Fenris to follow her. He scowled again, clutching the wine bottle like it was a barrier. Rees grabbed him by the wrists quickly and tugged him to his feet. He slunk up to his full height only throwing back his shoulders in response to Rees pretending to steady him. She moved to stand by his side.

“Alright. I’m a mage. And you’re a templar.”

“Is this one of Isabela’s ideas?” The corners of his mouth turned upwards just slightly. Rees snorted and twacked the back of her hand gently on his arm.

“No. Just watch.” She placed her foot squarely in the center of the ‘glyph’, then looked at Fenris meaningfully. “See?” He stared at her. She stomped her foot in place, gesturing at the floor. “Oh come on. Look.”

“I don’t get it, mora.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

She groaned and knelt down to point directly at her foot and the glyph. “What is happening here?”

“You are standing on my floor. That you carved a dick into.” She shot him an exasperated look and he relented. “You’re standing on a glyph.”

“Yes. That a mage cast. Bethany, right? I forget.” She pointed again to emphasise the point. “What happens when you stand on glyphs, Goose? Or have you finally hit your head enough that you just barrel through them?”

“Alright, alright. I get it. The glyph goes off.” He moved to reach for the bottle resting in his armchair. “Just as intended. The magic harms someone. Or in this case, something--”

Rees rushed to her feet and grabbed his hands, preventing him from backing down. “No. Not just that. Now you stand on it.”

Fenris looked at her like she was mad. Or drunk. Or both. But he let the bottle slip from his fingers regardless and stepped on the glyph. “Now I’m dead too.”

“Exactly!” She grinned triumphantly. “The glyph doesn’t care who you are. It’s just a magic shit thing stuck in the floor and… I don’t know. It doesn’t know. It’s just there, no matter what. Maybe it won’t go at all. Some glyphs just sit there. Faulty or some shit. But it’s neutral.”

Fenris concentrated on the floor where his foot sat on the rune thoughtfully. He went still and Rees thought for a second that they’d breached that personal line where his eyes glazed over and that tone of ash took to the hollows of his cheeks.

“Fen, I didn’t mean that--”

“Rees. Hush.”

He held up a hand. His ears lowered slightly, and she watched him stare out into the blackness of the rest of his bedroom, past the light of the hearth. He moved away from the glyph and his eyes adjusted. A faint green glow lit up the tips of his cheeks. It would have been alarming had she not already had the uncomfortable experience of fighting alongside him in Lowtown after sundown. It was like two laser beams had found hands and a greatsword. Rees staggered to face where he was looking without trying to hide the sway in her step. She watched the line of the shadow and reached again for her daggers.

A man charged out of the darkness and got a mouth full of Fenris’ bottle. The smash knocked him to the side and bloodied his face, giving Rees enough time to drag her dagger across the man’s throat. He gurgled blood and a scream was garbled in wet dying gasps. Rees kicked forward, knocking the knife tip of her boot out into its locked position, then planted the tip into the temple of the dying man. His eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor with a thud. Fenris knelt forward and examined the fallen body while Rees tucked the knife at the tip of her boot back into the hidden slit in the soul of the shoe.

“Tevinter.” Fenris said quietly. “Probably a bounty hunter.”

“Probably.” Rees shrugged. “Are there more? What do your elf eyes see?”

He was shaken enough that he didn’t rise to the goad. “No more. Just… just the one.” He stared at the man’s body and the blood soaking into his wooden floor. Not his floor. Danarius’ floor. It was a stark reminder that the mansion he had crashed into wasn’t his. Not truly.

Seeing the glaze crawl over his eyes like a disease, Rees placed her hand on his shoulder roughly. “He’s dead, Goose. Any more come, and I’ll kill’em too.”

Fenris sat back on the floor, looking temporarily defeated. His eyes trailed to the broken bits of bottle mournfully and followed the wasted wine back to the glyph. He snorted a little. “Your glyph failed. I don’t think you make a very good mage.”

Rees let her hand slip back onto her lap and shuffled herself over to where he leaned on his armchair. She leant slightly against his shoulder and followed his gaze. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t be.”

That drew another laugh from him, more genuine. It faded faster than she would’ve wanted. She nudged him a little and looked around to see if there were any more unopened wine bottles. He put a hand on hers and she stilled.

“Why do you do this?” He asked quietly.

“Do what?” Rees asked groggily.

He gestured to the corpse on the ground. “This. For me.” He paused. “I assume, anyway. I don’t know the reason.” She frowned. He gestured frustratedly at the glyph on the floor. “I spent the night calling your sister a--”

“Don’t.” Rees interrupted. “You didn’t. I knew what you meant.”

“I don’t pretend not to know the source of your sympathies,” he replied blandly. “For a thief, you are anything but subtle mora.” He quieted again. “And I know the significance. Yet you still defend me. Why?”

Rees felt that awful clenching in her stomach again and wanted very badly to attribute it to the smell of the corpse but it was too fresh. She wanted to blame the wine, but there was not enough in her blood. She wanted to blame their debates and the anger that boiled in her gut at the thought of Bethany being in danger but their debate was cut short. Their excuses had run dry and he was right. She had no reason, but the clench was still there. The feeling of his rough hand on hers was as startling as it was comforting and he knew her.

There was a solemn comfort in finding the same world weary jadedness in another person. There was a small spark of hope to come across someone who fought like every battle was the one they wished they hadn’t won. Fenris’ fog warriors. Rees’ ogre.

She rested her head on his shoulder the way she’d seen Luca do at the Hanged Man. It was a bit more forced, as she was much taller than the mage, but she felt him lean his cheek against her head in acceptance. His lips pressed gently to her forehead and the feeling in Rees’ stomach stabbed ice cold through her chest. She looked up at him in a hurry and found him close, so close, impossibly close.

It felt fitting to lean in and press her lips to his as the smell of fresh blood and wine wrapped the air in thickness. She pulled away quickly, worried she’d pushed too far, but his hands grabbed at her face roughly and pulled her crashing back. She needed no further encouragement.

Luca only noticed it was sunny when the light made blue and purple spots dance along the cobbled road of Hightown. The weight of the loot slung on her shoulder was distantly painful. The spiked edges of statues and brittle gold coins clawed at her like the claws of the darkspawn. She felt a great shuddering breath run through her. It wasn’t real.

Fenris had offered a thousand times to carry her share, offering even to carry her staff. She knew it made him uncomfortable. Maker, I must look a mess, she thought.

And there they all were. Her friends. Her companions. All waiting for them to return with looks of worry plastered on their faces and baskets full of celebratory food that had certainly gone bad. Had it been so long since they’d left? It must have. Varric said it took weeks. She let the bag slouch to the ground with a harsh slap and her shoulders felt weak. A whole week of carrying enough loot to support her family from now until three generations pass. More even, now that--

No.

A small laugh bubbled in her throat and came out sounding like a sob. She clasped her hand over her mouth. Voices hissed in her ear that they could fix this. Could bring him back, make him whole. He’s just a child. Just a kid. Her baby brother and he was--

“Luca!” Fenris’ voice sounded like it was coming through water. She looked at him and he was blurry. Was she underwater? No, the cobblestone felt dry and cracked under her knees. Something was stinging but she didn’t know what. When did she fall? She didn’t remember. “Hawke! Can you hear me?”

She nodded numbly. Aveline and Merrill swarmed to her side, asking questions, questions, questions. She couldn’t hear them. Didn’t see the huge green eyes asking Fenris what was wrong with her, or doting on Varric.

She saw Rees moving like she had in the deep roads; steady. Eyes ahead. Her dreads were thick with grime and the silver bangles had fallen somewhere on the path here. Anders was saying something to her and Luca watched her shoulders tense. She saw the rogue’s grip on her bag tighten and recognized the look in her eyes when she finally bequeathed the raggedy warden with her attention. It was the Look she’d seen Fenris give slavers on the wounded coast. It was the same Look she’d seen when Carver got into fights with mother.

Fenris was beside her, his hand on her shoulder. He was trying to pull her to her feet. Failing that, he had knelt down to scoop her up when she laughed again. She thought she laughed, anyway. It could’ve been another sob. Her face was wet regardless, so what difference did it make?

Rees slammed her bag of loot into Anders’ face, using the weight of it like a makeshift morningstar. He staggered back but she didn’t relent. She swung the bag high and thrashed again. The bag ripped, spilling gold and trinkets out onto the street mixed with Anders’ blood. Rees dropped the leaking sack and pummelled the mage’s face with her fists, throwing him to the ground and planting an armoured knee in the square of his chest to keep him down.

“She’s going to kill him.” She mumbled. It didn’t seem real. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The voices whispered, it doesn’t have to be real.

Fenris’ warmth left her side cold and stinging. She watched through tears and he and Aveline struggled to pull Rees off of Anders, unable to muster any sympathy for the bloody man when she reached for her daggers. Fenris was shouting something but Rees shook him off. Aveline got her back far enough to let Anders scamper away to Darktown to lick his wounds. Rees didn’t see him. She was staring at Fenris with so much anger and pain that she looked like a stranger.

Something in Luca’s heart hurt. This was her fault too. This was her journey. Bethany’s blood was on her hands and--

Rees’ eyes slid to her and the anger lessened only slightly. Luca wanted to scream. She wanted to vomit. She wanted anything in the world but this wretched pity, this disgusting wetness that came with tears and shock. She wanted her brother back. I can make that happen.

Aveline guarded Rees with the skill afforded only by someone who’d done it before. Isabela had taken the hint and tried to guide Rees away from the scene without touching her. Smart, Luca thought.

Beside her, Fenris’ voice rattled through her skull again. “Luca. I need you to stand. Can you do that?”

She nodded but her knees knew better. Fenris grunted and lifted her up into his arms. She tried not to think about all the times she’d wondered what this would be like. And now she didn’t even have the right sort of skirt for him to spin her around. Spinning sounded bad at any rate.

He and Aveline exchanged words and she watched Rees grab whatever gold she could fit back into her back and bolt off towards the Wounded Coast. Luca raised a finger to point but Fenris nodded and tucked her hand back towards her chest.

She wasn’t sure when she got home, but she was glad that Fenris stayed. The voices said many things, but his voice was clearer.

She wasn’t sleeping. She rarely did, as of late. Especially with Fenris offering to take patrols with Aveline, he would keep her company until she feigned sleep to lessen his worry. It wasn’t as terrible as the first few nights anymore, but the voices still pressed their teeth into the base of her neck and pulled wherever they could find leverage. She didn’t respond. She knew better than to engage, but it was more out of habit than self preservation. The fire poker was starting to feel heavy in her grip. Absently she wondered if that meant she’d have to re-teach herself all the fancy staff moves she’d been so proud of. She allowed herself some under the breath grumbling about push-ups and stoked the fire with the tip of the poker.

Thump.

Luca whirled around as fast as her legs would carry her and ignored the wave of dizziness that accompanied standing up. Her knuckles were white on the poker and she clutched it like a barrier between her and her demons. On the floor sat Rees. Her face was covered in dirt and grime, dust clinging to her dreads like she’d tried to mop Lowtown with her hair. It would’ve been comical in any other context.

The rogue had a suspicious looking bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. There were rips and tears where she held it and she looked down at it like she was surprised it had made the journey up the trellis to Luca’s window. It had been the first time she’d seen the rogue make a face like that since… Well. Since.

Luca’s heart shrunk into her feet and she remembered again her responsibility. Her brother and Rees’ sister. The voices laughed at her and drilled into her, finding the leaks in her like water found cracks in a vase. She felt her breathing quicken. Was Rees here for revenge? She wouldn’t blame her. Luca had promised to keep her sister safe. Back in that alleyway, surrounded by Wicked Sisters, Rees’ face had flooded with hope when Luca cast her first sheet of ice. Rees’s face now looked like a paltry imitation.

With equally filthy fingers, she held out the bagged bottle of liquor to Luca. “Hey, Lucky.” She waggled the bottle for effect and Luca took it. “Can’t sleep?”

Luca shook her head.

“Yeah. I wondered.” Rees muttered. “Betha--,” She cut herself off, swallowing the name. “She used to have trouble too. Nightmares were worse, y’know? A whole Fade full of real shit. Can’t imagine. How do you do it?”

At the moment, I don’t. I’m just hoping it’ll pass. Luca didn’t say anything. She ran her fingers absently across the ridges in the crinkled paper. Rees gestured for her to drink. Luca thought about it, swishing the bottle back and forth in her hand. She didn’t need it. She wanted it, oh how she wanted the excuse to let her guard down. But Carver was still out there. He needed her. The demons would have to wait until she was cold on the ground to try anything. She steeled her nerves and shook her head again, passing the bottle back to Rees.

Rees shrugged and popped the cap off of it. She took a deep pull and leaned her head back against the windowsill. “I’m still going to help you.”

“Help me with what?” Luca asked.

“I don’t know. You’ll find something to get in trouble with.” A giggle that was anything but pleasant bubbled up her throat. “And someone has to protect you.”

“You don’t have to protect me, Rees.” Luca said.

“I know.”

She let the poker drop to the floor finally and Rees didn’t seem to notice it was there at all. When Luca sank to her knees to sit on the floor opposite of the rogue, Rees patted her thigh meaningfully until Luca scooted closer and rested her head in Rees’ lap. She was warm. Somehow. Luca closed her eyes and tried to pretend that it was an ordinary night.

“Are you mad?” Luca asked quietly.

Rees didn’t answer and the silence gnawed at her. Rees’ dark fingers brushed over Luca’s cheek gently, tracing patterns down the side of her neck and resting easily at the crook of her shoulder. From where she lay, Luca could only see thick white lashes blinking occasionally to know that she was staring at the ceiling. Luca looked up and couldn’t find anything particularly captivated. She adjusted and cleared her throat to ask again when Rees’ whole torso shuddered.

The mage sat up in alarm, attention focused on Rees more sharply than before. She scanned her body for cuts, bruises. Nothing. Rees’ hand came up to cover her mouth and her eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed as far as they would go. It took Luca a second to realize the rogue was crying.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks like glass and Luca knew what to do. She tucked the silver dreads behind Rees’ ear and smoothed them over as best she could. Without thinking, she stood again and fetched the pitcher of water she kept by her dresser and tore a piece of cloth from an old shirt. She dampened the cloth between the spout of the pitcher and her fingers and dabbed it slowly across Rees’ cheeks. Bruises showed up like snares in a battlefield, each one a nasty shade of dark purple less pleasant than the one prior. She’s been fighting, she thought.

“You’re going to be okay.” Luca hushed her. “Bethany is going to be okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know.” Rees hissed adamantly. Shards of wet grey peeked out from behind wet lashes. “I want to protect you. I will. I have to. I can’t... I can’t--” She trailed off, jaw twitching and sniffling like she had a bad cold. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and used the same motion to douse her sniffles with another pull from the bottle. “I won’t lose you too.”

Reality felt heavier. She lost Carver. He may not be dead, she told herself, but he was lost. It was a fitting word and a painful one. It stuck to the inside of her lungs like a burr she couldn’t cough away. The part of her she had dedicated to protecting Carver, ripped out and dragged away by the Grey Wardens. It hurt.

Tears were still streaming down Rees’ face so she took a deep breath and pulled the rogue closer by her shoulders. She plucked the bottle from her hand gently and placed it by the discarded poker. She rubbed Rees’ shoulders, shaking off handfuls of dust in the process and kissed the top of her head.

“You won’t lose me, Starlight.” She said as soothingly as she could. Rees grumbled something into her arm and Luca smiled. “Really. I promise.”

Rees huffed and muttered something else.

“I can’t hear you, Rees.”

“It’s not your promise to make.” She said, pulling her face away from Luca’s embrace. The tears had mostly dried now and there was cold fire in her eyes again. Grey eyebrows furrowed and her full lips took the shape of their usual disgruntled frown. “I said I would protect you when we met, and I will.”

Luca laughed and brushed her hand across Rees’ cheek. “I’ve seen you rip through Tal-Vashoth, Starlight. I am surprised anyone has heard of me at all when you’re on the field.

Rees snickered at that. “Varric’s calling you the Champion now, isn’t he? Champion of Kirkwall has a nice ring to it. For a Fereldan. I still think he should’ve gone with Princess.”

Luca made fake gagging noises. “Don’t encourage him! He doesn’t need more nicknames.”

“Why not?” She teased. “You make a good princess. Floofy dresses, you make picnics--”

“That’s not a princess thing!”

“--you sing to birds.”

Laughter burst out of her chest again and it felt better. Like the burr was still there, but slowly coming lose. Luca watched Rees grin back at her and saw the same feeling dancing around the corners of her mouth. With a grand flourish, she raised her arm straight out and rested it on Rees’ right shoulder. “Then you shall be my knight.” Luca said proudly, tapping each of Rees’ shoulders as if she held a ceremonial blade. “Seems like it would fit, dont’cha think?”

“Knight. Hm.” She leaned back against the window sill, shifting to make sure she kept her side pressed into Luca’s. “I like it.”

“Which makes Isabela--”

“The clever pirate,” Rees grinned. “She wouldn’t be caught dead without her damned ship.”

“Of course,” Luca relented with an easy smile. She tucked her head onto Rees’ shoulder. “I guess Fenris can be the prince. He’d make a dashing prince.”

Rees snorted but stayed silent. Luca could feel the frown before she saw it and sat back up. Rees’ eyes went wide and she put on her best poker face. For all the pockets she picked and shadows she danced in and out of, Rees Amell was one of the worst liars Luca had ever had the fortune of coming across. “What is it, Starlight?”

“Nothing!”

“Rees.”

Rees chewed her lip and her face got progressively more and more red. Grey eyes under silver lashes shot nervous looks at the mage. She swallowed a couple times and looked wistfully at the bottle sitting just out of reach. Luca shifted to grab it and hand it to her but when she turned around she was surprised to find the rogue on her feet already headed for the windowsill. Luca jumped up as fast as she could and caught her by the wrist as she hoisted herself out into the night.

“Would you just tell me what it is I said?” Luca pleaded. “I promised whatever it was, I didn’t mean for it to hurt you!”

Rees’ cheeks turned a dark shade of maroon and she looked like she desperately wanted to yank her hand out of Luca’s grasp. She sighed and let go, shrugging in defeat. She wasn’t going to physically restrain Rees if she wanted to bolt. It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“Wait.” Rees’ voice was small, but it caught Luca’s attention. “I didn’t… You didn’t hurt me. I just…Uh. Hm.”

Luca didn’t speak. Her breath froze on her tongue and she leaned out the window to hear the thief she’d rescued in the alleyway try to fumble over her words. Rees cleared her throat again, swallowed and put on the face that meant she was either going to rip Fenris a new one or try to charge into the middle of the battlefield.

“Does the knight ever get to kiss the princess?” She asked flatly. Luca’s heart stopped.

Just as quickly as the words left her, Rees looked like she’d deflated. “I just meant-- No, I didn’t mean-- I don’t want you to feel like-- ...Nevermind. Forget it.”

Luca’s hands darted out into the night air and caught Rees by the chin. She stared for a moment, marvelling at the way her hands looked next to the dark of Rees’ skin. Like the golden brown sun against a starless sky. Rees stared at her like a rabbit caught in a snare, grey eyes wide and locked. Slowly as she could she leaned forward and pressed their lips together. More gently than she’d ever seen the rogue be, she felt Rees’ hands grasp hers and squeeze. She leaned up into the kiss eagerly, nibbling at Luca’s lower lip and kissing it again just as soft as moonlight.

They broke apart and Rees looked unspeakably horrified. She yanked her whole torso away and slid down the trellis. She ignored Luca’s yell of surprise and darted off into the maze of alleyways before Luca could attest to the pounding in her chest.

#fenhawke #belahawke #hawkebela #fenris #isabela #hawke #the sacred ot4 #first kisses

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