Title: Also, I Can Kill You With My Brain
Characters: Mage!Hawk, most of the gang
"There you go, trying to boss me around again! I'm not doing it!" The younger Hawk crossed his arms, scowling at his sister with a mutinous look on his face.
"Carver, stop being childish! If you have a better idea, tell me. If you don't then please, for the love of the Maker, shut up and put... it... on!"
"But... It's... Purple!" Carver sniped back. "Why can't you wear this one? I'll wear the green one!"
"Don't be silly Carver, the green one will never fit you. We are doing this for mother, and by the Void, you will do this and pretend to be happy about it! Besides, Varric is wearing his and he looks dashing!"
"Actually Hawk, I'm really not sure about the padding around the stomach... It... It hides all my chest hair!" The dwarf picked at front of the red and white jacket, trying to pull the neckline lower.
Fenris emerged from Hawks rooms looking confused. He strode up to her waving a black and white ball of fluff and velvet in her face.
"Hawk, I can understand that it is cold, so I can understand the fur around the edges... but do the pants have to be this tight?" He let the bundle in his hand drop so it hung by it's fluffy white pompom. "I will not however where this."
"I think the pants show off your ass-ets nicely!" Isabela drawled, leering at his velvet clad backside. She was lounging in the stairwell, looking perfectly at home in a diaphanous version of Andraste's robes.
"That's not very nice Fenris, Hawk ordered that outfit especially for you!" Merril bounded over, swiped the hat and placed it gleefully on the scowling elf's head before skipping off to hang up pieces of Harlot's Blush at the top of the doorways around the main hall. She swished the fur hem of her extremely short velvet skirt as she worked, humming to herself under her breath.
Aveline and Donnic walked in dressed in matching antique soldiers uniforms. Aveline's usually stony countenance slipped as she broke into a fit of giggles, her eyes shining as she looked around the room at the festively dressed group.
"Oh that's great!" Carver muttered. "They get to wear armor, why can't I?"
A subdued chorus of 'it's not fair', 'I don't want to', and 'you can't make me' ensued.
"Enough!!" Roared Hawk, stamping her foot. "I'm going to signal Anders that he can bring mother back. If you lot aren't ready to revel, carouse and have fun when I get back, so help me..."
"You'll what?" Asked carver with a sneer, gathering up his costume despite his defiant tone.
"Well, if the repercussions of annoying me, pissing off Gamlen and ruining mothers night isn't enough of an incentive, then remember this. I pay your wages, I'm friends with the managers of the Rose, and I can KILL YOU ALL WITH MY BRAIN!" Hawk turned on her glittery green heel, and flounced out the door, slamming it behind her.
As the room cleared Varric sidled over to Fenris looking perturbed.
"Broody, did a four foot three fairy in green and red lace and sparkly high heels just threaten to kill us with her brain?"
"Yes." Replied Fenris trying not to laugh.
Isabella sauntered over to offer the men her flask of whiskey.
"Well boys," she said, with mischief in her eyes "she certainly made sure we were combustible enough, perhaps we shouldn't test how serious she was."
The men looked at each other for a moment, and ran for their places, just as the door opened.
Carver reached into the sack of gifts that Varric was carrying and handed one to Leandra, who sported a huge smile and teary eyes.
He grinned down at Leandra, hugging her with one arm and flicking the ball of purple fur from his hat out of his face with the other. "Happy feast day mother!"
Upstairs Anders and Hawk put the finishing touches on his outfit and paused at the top of the stairs to survey the festive scene below.
"You put on quite a show love, how did you get this done so fast?" He asked putting an arm around her shoulder.
"Oh, you know, promises, favors, my silver tongue..." Hawk shrugged with a look full of guile.
"Ahhh love I know that look, what did you really do?" he drawled pulling her into his arms beneath a sprig of Harlot's Blush.
Hawk chuckled against his lips, eyes shining with mirth.
"I threatened to show them why Mages are feared..."
Prompt/title: Unexpected 2 (Of Dragons, Griffins and Chantry Mice)
Rating: T (some rough language)
Characters: Carver, M!Hawk, Anders, Isabela, Sebastion, mentions of others.
A/N Wow this is late, but meh, at least the block finally broke lol. I have a couple more coming, but this is all I have atm.
Anders' back slumped in resignation as he heard Hawk's words. He had known that this might happen. Hawk and that Chantry Prince were thick as thieves, and Sebastion was never going to understand the plight of Mages. The Chant was too ingrained into his psyche and the man was far too much of a "momma's boy" to think for himself. If he called for blood to avenge the Grand Cleric, Hawk would supply it.
Hawk accepted Sebastian's dagger and walked up behind Anders.
The mage took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the blade to pierce him. Typical that his closest friend, who was a mage himself, would opt for a rogues weapon to do the deed. Or perhaps he would give the bratty archer the honors after all, and an arrow would do the piercing instead. Didn't THAT thought make his head swim.
Or maybe it was lack of oxygen. He expelled the breath in a rush, wondering what was taking so long. He heard Isabella make a tutting sound, and finally turned around to face the angry group behind him. He steeled himself and turned to see...
A gigantic sword drawing just the slightest trickle of blood as it rested gently at Hawk's throat.
Anders vision swam a little as his mind tried to catch up to his eyes. He vaguely registered the sound of Hawk's staff hitting the ground as he slid his gaze over to Sebastion. The nug loving tosser had a blade pressed to his groin even as a rather bountiful bosom wrapped in white cloth was being pressed to his face. The frigid git looked as if his head may explode.
Anders let out a slightly hysterical giggle.
He looked to the other person in the group who would likely want to see him dead, to discover Alistair with his boot planted squarely in the elf's tattooed back, and his shield lodged at the base of his neck.
Anders giggled again.
Deciding he was going slightly mad, the mage stood and turned to face the group of people who were currently pointing too many weapons at each other. Just behind the group he spotted... was that Amell?!?. The Warden Commander was happily chatting with Knight Captain Cullen, and gesturing wildly with a huge shit eating grin on her face. Wait, was Cullen... Blushing? And... Smirking?? Was he even capable of smirking?
Anders' poor brain, unable to take any more weirdness, forced his eyes back to the immediate issue at hand, namely the man who was about to kill him.
"Anders, are you alright brother?" Carver asked in a serious voice.
"Carver what the bloody hell!" Hawk sputtered, looking fit to kill the younger man.
"Don't. You. Dare. This man saved my LIFE!!" Bellowed Carver. "What would Father think? Andraste's perky tits, you are A MAGE!. Would you stab Bethany in the back as well if she has survived the blight?"
"No! You don't get to be surprised, OR pissed off, you amazing shitheel. You get to show some integrity for once and fight for the damned cause that you and father rammed down my throat for the past 27 years." Carver slowly lowered the massive sword from Hawke's throat and sniffed.
"But I..." Hawk was looking nervously at Sebastion for guidance only to realise that his friend was currently suffocating in cleavage, as Isabela laughed and prodded his thigh with her extremely sharp dagger. He looked back to Carver and gulped.
"No buts, you will apologise to my fellow Grey Warden here for threatening his life, and then you will go and discuss strategy with the Knight Captain and the Hero over there. Oh and when this is over, we are going to have a long chat about loyalty."
To the horrified fascination of all present, Hawk swallowed convulsively, nodded and wandered away to do as he was told.
As the tension dissipated, Varric sauntered over to Anders and clapped him on the back.
"You still with us Blondie?"
"Um... Yeah... That was just... unexpected."
"No shit, even I couldn't have planned that..."
Word count: 581
Lyriana Hawk muttered under her breath, watching the mage struggle through several failed attempts at mixing his "potion". She sat perched on one of the rafters of the clinic alternating between chuckling at Anders expletives when he burned his fingers for the tenth time, and wanting to slap him upside his pretty blonde head.
He really had no idea...
She deserved to know what her best friend was doing, and she damned well had a right, no responsibility, to be involved in his revolution.
She was the champion of Kirkwall, yet who had she really been champion to?
Feynriel? The countless mages who had been murdered because the Templars were trying to meet a quota? The lives destroyed by lyrium smuglers? The dozens that had been made tranquil before the "Tranquil Solution" had been quashed? The tens of thousands like Anders who had been beaten, abused, tortured and broken? The countless children who had been stolen from their families because a religious leader enforced their interpretation of the wife of a god? Father who was murdered... mother who was dismembered and defiled because the institution was too busy chasing power to do it's damned job? Bethany who's only crime was being born a healer?
Or how about the Templars who had suffered, had she championed them? Thrask? Wilmod? Keiran? Maker even Cullen, who was sentenced to live in this sewer of a city because he dared to feel compassion?
Face after face flashed across the back of her eyelids, taunting her. The lives that were destroyed because of senseless fear, the lives she had taken playing Merrideth's games... So much blood on her hands, and for what?
Even the rulers were slaves in this city. Bound as tightly by piety and fear as the giant bronze slaves at the gates were bound by their chains.
No more. It was time to BE a champion, and if that meant being hated and hunted, so be it.
Anders let out a squeak as he felt the magic he was trying to infuse into the powder backlash on his fingers for the dozenth. His hand was midway to his mouth when he heard a soft chuckle and a gentle thud behind him.
The mage grabbed his staff and did a quick patrol of the clinic. When he turned back to his work bench he let out another not at all manly squeak.
"Hawk! Where, um, what, err... that is, it's not what it looks like."
Hawk finished her final measurement on the now finished black powder batch, and gently funnelled it into a container she had prepared while sitting in the rafters.
"What." She raised an eyebrow as she watched Anders' mouth open and close like a fresh caught fish. "I'm a rogue, did you really think I didn't know what refined "Drakestone" and "Selapetrae" are used for?"
Anders continued to stammer as Hawke started mixing the next batch of powder.
"Oh I took the liberty of adding a couple of extra ingredients to my version. I'm guessing a modified lightning spell to set the spark? Trust me this will have a bit extra kick."
"Um Hawk... I... um..."
"Um, what?""You are a brother to me, but if you EVER fucking lie to me like that again, I'll kill you myself. Now, close your mouth and give me a hand. We don't have much time."
"What it it with you and helping cute elves with no self preservation instincts?"
He was lookin' right at Fenris when he said it too * maniacal cackle*
Aw why didn't I have it recording *cries*
I need to go write some fic now *does happy dance*