#pikascout | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me: Complete

Chapters 38 & 39 of my and @schoute‘s beloved Cullen/Lavellan and FenHawke pirate AU are up on AO3!!

In which something special happens and WE’RE VERY EXCITED and I’m maybe a little scare because I HOPE I HAVE DONE WELL BY SCHOUTE’S BABES, AHHHH.

First chapter is ~5350 words. Read both chapters on AO3 instead.

***********************

- CULLEN -

Two weeks later...

“Wake up, Golden Boy,” Piper whispered.

He smiled sleepily and opened his eyes. Piper was naked and splayed across his hips, and brilliant rays of the morning sun were slicing through the windows and bringing out the silver of her wild hair.

“Good morning, Piper,” he murmured.

She smoothed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “It’s a good morning indeed,” she said cheerfully. “In fact, this is a morning you’ll never forget. D’you know why?”

Of course he knew why this was a special morning; he’d been looking forward to this morning since they’d left the Arlathan Forest ten days ago. But he tucked his arm behind his head and gave her a quizzical look. “I’m not sure. You may have to remind me.”

She clicked her tongue and playfully pinched his ear. “Some first mate you are. This, Golden Boy, is the day that you make an honest woman out of Captain Piper Lavellan.” She shifted her hips slightly – just a subtle shifting of her hips, but it was enough to make his early morning wood pulse with interest.

He breathed in slowly. “You’re already an honest woman, Piper. Marrying me won’t change that.” He slowly slid his palms along her thighs.

She barked out a laugh. “Captain ‘Honest’ Piper? I don’t know her.” She rolled her hips slowly over his, and another pulse of pleasure rippled through his abdomen.

She continued to talk in a sultry voice. “Captain ‘Mad’ Piper, certainly. Captain ‘Dangerous’ Piper, absolutely.” She pressed herself firmly against his hardened shaft. “Captain ‘Honest’ Piper? I don’t think so.”

He exhaled shakily. His drowsiness had completely evaporated, leaving him fully alert and awake and wanting: wanting more of the slick warmth that Piper was smoothing over his manhood with every wavelike roll of her hips.

He slid his hands up to her hips. “You are an honest woman,” he insisted breathlessly. “The most honest pirate I have ever met.”

She threw her head back and let out a throaty laugh. “Cullen, you naughty boy. You’d better keep this slanderous talk between us, or you’ll have my ruined reputation on your conscience.” Then, to his surprise, she pushed his hands away and started rolling off of him.

“Wait,” he protested. “Where are you going?”

“Getting ready for our wedding, of course!” she said. “I have to get all tarted up for you.” She gave him a roguish wink.

He stared at her, muddled by the sight of her naked body and the fact that she was walking away from him. “Tarted…? What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips – her bare hips, which were as bare as the rest of her lithe and tempting body. “I have to get dressed up like a fancy bitch for the wedding. So you need to get up.” She snapped her fingers at him. “Up, up! And not just that kind of up.” She grinned and eyed the tented sheets over his groin.

Cullen gazed at her imploringly. “But–”

There was a knock at the door. Cullen flinched and pulled the sheet up to cover his naked chest. “Who in the Maker’s name is that?” he demanded.

Piper laughed loudly, then called through the door. “Who is it?”

Hawke’s bright voice replied. “Me and Merrill! Your handmaidens for the day!” she chirped. “Well, us and–”

“And myself,” Dorian cut in. “I’ll be supervising the preparation, if you don’t mind. And even if you do, well, that’s too bad. I’m not missing out.”

Piper raised her eyebrows at Cullen. “Well?” she said expectantly. “Am I letting them in to see your morning glory, or are you getting out?”

“I’m – I will get out, of course,” he stammered. He slid out of the bed and hurried over to the armoire, then tried his best to dress quickly in the clean and pressed clothes that he’d selected for the wedding.

He dragged his trousers on halfway and pulled the white linen shirt over his head, then struggled to button the trousers over his damnably hard shaft. Piper, meanwhile, was sauntering toward him, and as he tried to fumble with his blasted buttons, she slid her arms around him from behind.

“Need help?” she asked, and she slid her hand down over his belly.

He choked out a gasp. Her fingers were sliding into his trousers. Given the present situation, he genuinely couldn’t decide if he wanted her to stop or to keep going.

“Piper,” he begged.

She chuckled. Then someone banged on the door more insistently. “Excuse me,” Dorian called, “but we’re still standing here, and I’d certainly like to come inside and have a glass of champagne with the bride.”

“Me too,” Hawke said.

“Me three!” Merrill chirped.

“Coming,” Piper yelled. Then she turned back to Cullen. “Not you yet though, Golden Boy,” she purred, and she stroked his manhood.

He gasped, and Piper pulled her hand out of his trousers. Lightheaded with lust now, he braced his palm on the armoire and shot Piper a pleading look. “Is there a reason you’re choosing to torture me?” he asked breathlessly.

She grinned at him. “So you can make an honest woman of me later,” she said. She gave his bottom a smack. “Now go on and get out so the others can make me beautiful.”

He pulled on his vest and gave her a resentful look. “You are already beautiful, Piper. Cruel and beautiful, like a siren from one of your tales.”

She laughed. “That might be the best compliment I’ve had all month.”

He shot her a chiding little smile, then stuck his feet into his boots. By the time he was fully – if haphazardly – dressed, Piper’s nakedness was hidden by a fine silk robe, and she was standing by the door.

Her face was wreathed in the most wicked grin, and he shook his head as he approached her. “Captain ‘Minx’ Piper,” he murmured. “That’s what they should call you.”

She let out a soft and sultry laugh. “That’s what you can call me.”

“Hmph,” he said, and he reached for the doorknob. Then, on a whim, he wrapped his arm around her instead and pulled her into a kiss.

She gasped in surprise and clutched his shoulder, and he hungrily dipped his tongue into her mouth. Then Dorian called out again. “Come now, Piper, we have a lot of work to do. Your hair, for starters – I’m fairly sure I saw a twig in it yesterday. I fear there may be an entire family of birds roosting there.”

Piper grinned against Cullen’s lips, then leaned away from him. “Now who’s the minx?” she breathed.

“It is still you,” he whispered. “I’m simply serving justice.” He released her and smoothed his hand fondly over her hair, then opened the door.

Hawke was holding what looked like a bundle of clothing wrapped in a sheet, and Merrill had a basket of gold-handled combs and brushes and other cosmetic tools hanging from her arm. She clasped her hands together when she saw him. “Oh Cullen, your hair is so curly! It looks very sweet!”

“Yes, very sweet,” Hawke said. Her tone and her grin were heavy with innuendo. “Should we come back later?”

Cullen raised his eyebrows. Had that been an option? “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind–”

Dorian pushed past him into the captain’s quarters. “No, Hawke, that just won’t do,” he said loudly. “Cullen, thank you, please be gone. Piper, sit down, we have work to do.” He plonked a bottle of champagne on the table.

Piper chuckled. “Insolent swine. This will be the one and only day I let you give me any orders.” She winked at Cullen, and a moment later, he found himself staring at the closed door to her cabin.

He sighed, then ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and made his way up to the poop deck. The helm was unmanned, given that they’d been anchored in the Rialto Bay since their arrival yesterday evening, but Varric and Fenris were sitting at the table behind the helm playing wicked grace with Anders, Rylen and Sera.

Sera cackled when she saw him. “Who made a nest on your head?” she asked.

Cullen self-consciously ran a hand over his hair. “I’m aware that it looks like a bird’s nest, thank you,” he mumbled, and he took a seat beside Rylen.

Varric chuckled as he arranged his cards. “Rough morning, Curly?”

“He’s really curly today!” Sera said.

Cullen shot her a resentful glance. “I was ejected rather unceremoniously from the captain’s quarters,” he said. “I didn’t have time to, er, prepare.”

Rylen shrugged and picked a card from the deck. “It looks just fine to me.”

Sera laughed again. “Only because yours is even more nesty.”

Rylen shrugged again. “Says the lass whose hair looks like a bundle of seaweed washed up on shore.”

Sera guffawed. Anders smirked at them, then glanced at Cullen. “Don’t worry about your hair. No one will be looking at you anyway.” He put down a card and selected a new one, then raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t mean that in a rude way. I just meant — er, nothing.”

Cullen frowned in confusion, but Varric chuckled again. “You can’t say something like that and just leave it hanging, Blondie.”

Anders sighed. “Fine, fine. I just heard what the dress looks like, that’s all.”

Cullen looked up in surprise. “You did?” he asked. He was very eager to see Piper’s wedding dress. All he knew was that it wouldn’t be anything like a traditional wedding dress, but Piper and Merrill and Hawke had refused to tell him anything more.

“Yes,” Anders said. “Hawke described it to me. She’s pretty excited about it.” He glanced at Fenris. “Did she tell you about it?”

“No,” Fenris said, and he threw down a card. “I saw it. Also, I win this hand. Give me the pot.”

Anders’s eyebrows jumped up on his forehead. “You saw the dress?”

“I did,” Fenris said. “Hawke and Merrill were working on it in my quarters. Now give me the pot.” His tone was very neutral, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Anders grunted and shoved the pile of coin on the table toward him. Cullen shifted restlessly in his seat and glanced at Fenris. “So, the, er, dress,” he said tentatively. “What does it —”

“No!” Sera blurted. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. Bad luck for the bride. Don’t tell ‘im, Fenny, or she’ll fall on her face.” She paused, then snickered. “Actually, maybe tell. That could be fun. Bet she’d swear up a storm.”

Fenris ignored her and raised an eyebrow at Cullen. “Do you truly wish to know?”

Cullen sighed and sat back in his chair. “No, that’s all right. It would ruin the surprise.”

Varric tapped the deck of cards on the table and started shuffling. “All right, Curly. Can I deal you in, or are you too nervous to play a hand?”

“I’m not nervous,” Cullen said. But even as he said it, a little jolt of nerves tweaked in his belly.

Anders raised his eyebrows. “You’re not? Maker, I would be. Marrying Mad Piper Lavellan? I’d be shaking in my boots.”

Fenris and Sera snorted, and Rylen squeezed Cullen’s shoulder. “He’s got no reason to be nervous. The vows are nice. Short but sweet, just how I’d like them.”

Sera gaped at Rylen. “You heard ‘em already?” she said.

“I had a look,” Rylen said. “Made sure they’re all right.” He smiled at Cullen. “They’re finer words than any speech you gave us in the barracks.”

Cullen smiled faintly in return. “I certainly hope so,” he said. These words would matter far more than any navy speech he’d ever given. These words — his marriage vows to Piper: these would be the words he used to tell her what she meant to him, and to bind them together for the rest of their lives and beyond. Truthfully, he had lost a few nights’ worth of sleep fretting over these vows, and it had taken Rylen’s calm and pragmatic eye for him to trust his judgment that his vows were both sufficient and succinct.

“So, Curly?” Varric said. “You going to play a hand with us?”

“I would, but…” He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I would still like to be presentable. Varric, might I borrow your quarters–”

“You can use mine,” Dorian said as he sauntered up the stairs to join them. “I’ve got two mirrors, combs, and any kind of unguent you might wish to keep those lovely locks of yours in place.”

Fenris shot him a dismissive look. “What are you doing here? I thought you were supervising.”

“Don’t criticize me, Fenris, I do as I like,” Dorian said airily. He pulled up a chair between Fenris and Anders. “Deal me in, would you? Your bride looks beautiful, by the way,” he said to Cullen.

Cullen perked up, but Fenris snorted. “Did Piper kick you out for your incessant commentary?”

Dorian shot him an annoyed look. “As I said, I do as I like. Including taking your cards, since Varric won’t deal me in.” He reached for Fenris’s cards.

Fenris shirked away from him. “Get your own,” he complained. “Or take Anders’s hand.”

Anders jerked his cards out of Dorian’s reach. “I don’t think so. I’ve got a great hand.” Then his face fell. “Oh, Andraste’s pants.”

Fenris, Sera and Dorian chuckled, and Varric ruefully shook his head. “All right, Blondie blew the round. Everyone give me back your cards.”

Fenris frowned. “Wait a minute. That is hardly fair. Why should we be punished for the doctor’s indiscretion?”

Varric smirked. “So you admit that you had a good hand too.”

Fenris blinked, then hunched his shoulders defensively. “Kaffas,” he muttered.

Dorian, Sera and Anders laughed. Cullen exchanged a smile with Rylen, then went to Dorian’s quarters to fix his hair. Once his hair was blessedly in order, he went to the galley to find a cup of tea and emerged laden with a tray of tea, coffee, biscuits and fruit plied on him by the crew who were helping in the kitchen while Merrill was otherwise occupied.

He took the tray back to the poop deck to share with the others and promptly got pulled into a round of wicked grace. Some time later, Kaaras called down to them from the crow’s nest. “Small craft on the approach on the starboard side!”

Cullen straightened, and Varric looked up distractedly. “Small craft? Did Piper invite someone from the mainland?”

“I don’t believe so, but I did,” Cullen said. He rose from the table and went to the starboard taffrail to look, and he smiled: there was a small dinghy on the approach, and its occupants waved as they glimpsed him.

He raised a hand in greeting, then made his way to the deck and threw down the rope ladder so they could board the ship. A few minutes later, he was holding out a hand to help a smiling Aemeris onto the deck.

“Avanna, Cullen,” she said warmly. “And congratulations.” She greeted him with a gentle kiss to both cheeks.

“Don’t congratulate him yet!” Deshanna said. “Piper hasn’t reeled him all the way in. He still might escape her.” He was carrying Jos in a sling on his back, and he grinned at Cullen as Aemeris lifted Jos out of the sling.

Cullen smiled and bowed his head. “You have nothing to worry about there,” he said, and he held out his hand to shake.

Deshanna let out a rolling belly laugh. “Don’t give me those manners. Get over here and give us a hug like a real man.”

Cullen smiled sheepishly and hugged Deshanna, who clapped him heartily on the back. A moment later, a number of the crew were crowding around to greet their former captain and his wife and to fuss over little Jos, who was clutching Aemeris’s collar and gazing wide-eyed at all the new faces.

Cullen sidled up to Aemeris and Jos. “Hello, Jos,” he said politely. “Do you remember me—?”

He broke off in surprise; Jos was reaching eagerly for him.

Aemeris laughed softly. “All right, amatus, hold on,” she crooned, and she handed the toddler to Cullen.

Cullen hefted Jos on his hip and smiled. “Welcome to the Lady Luck,” he said softly. “It’s the finest ship in all of Thedas.”

Jos stared at Cullen and tucked his thumb in his mouth. Then a loud voice called out from the entrance to the officers’ quarters. “What’s going on here? A mutiny on my wedding day? It better not be! What’s—” Piper broke off suddenly, and Cullen looked up with a smile.

And his belly burst into a breathless storm of butterflies. Piper was barefoot and wearing a floor-length dress made of some light and flowing fabric that was painted with a geometric pattern of warm olive and rust tones. The dress was sleeveless and appeared to tie around the neck, and it was so low in the neckline that her tattooed breastbone was visible. Her hair was more lustrous and wavelike than ever and studded with what looked like tiny silver cuffs, and she was…

Maker, she was absolutely radiant. Cullen had never seen a more perfectly beautiful woman in his entire life.

And her face was a perfect picture of surprise. “Deshanna? Aemeris?” she gasped. “What are you—?”

“Seapup!” Deshanna exclaimed, and he opened his arms.

A second later, Piper smashed into him in a full-body hug. She buried her face against Deshanna’s shoulder, and Cullen and Aemeris exchanged a smile.

Piper pulled away and hugged Aemeris as well. “It’s great to see you! What the fuck are you doing here? Oops, sorry Jossie,” she said hastily, and she gave Jos a noisy kiss on the cheek.

Jos chortled and pulled her hair, and Deshanna gave her a chiding smile. “You thought you could tie the knot without us? It’s a good thing Cullen wrote to us.”

Piper turned to Cullen with wide eyes. “You wrote to them?” she asked.

Her eyes were shiny with tears, and Cullen suddenly felt nervous. “Yes,” he said. “When we stopped for supplies in Seere. I thought you might like – well, I hope it’s all right that I asked them to come–”

“Yes, of course!” Piper exclaimed. She hastily dabbed her eyes with her left wrist. “It’s — I didn’t even… fenedhis, I didn’t even think about it.” She looked up at Deshanna. “I didn’t even think about it! How shitty is that? Ah, sorry Jos…” She winced and ruffled the toddler’s hair.

Deshanna chuckled softly. “Don’t be sorry. You had other things to think about.” His eyes were on Piper’s left stump, and his expression was sympathetic.

Piper, of course, noticed and reacted as Cullen expected: she laughed and waved the stump in a cavalier manner. “Yeah, other things like this dress. What do you think?” She batted her eyelashes in a very Hawke-like way and swayed back and forth.

“It’s lovely,” Aemeris said warmly. “I never thought we’d see you in a dress.”

Piper laughed. “Don’t be fooled. I’ve got two daggers strapped to my thigh under this thing.”

Cullen double-taked at her, and Deshanna let out another loud laugh. “Ah, seapup. You wouldn’t be Mad Piper if you didn’t have two daggers on your thigh on your wedding day.”

“Damn right,” Piper said cheerfully. Then she hugged Deshanna once more. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said softly. She pulled away and kissed Aemeris and Jos, then gestured to the crew. “Come on, you salty sea dogs,” she yelled. “Come help the second-best-ever captain of the Lady Luck to get settled in!”

There was an uproar of jeers and laughter and cheering, and Deshanna laughed again and chucked Piper’s chin. “An ungrateful monster, you are. All right, Aemeris, let’s get comfortable.” He took Jos back from Cullen, and they joined the happily chattering crew.

Cullen turned to Piper. “You look–”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Surprised and delighted, he happily returned her kiss until she pulled away with a grin.

“You sweet man,” she murmured. “I can’t believe you thought to write him.”

“O-of course,” he stammered. “I thought you would, er, like them to be present.”

She laughed. “Cullen, my eyes are up here.”

He dragged his wayward eyes from her dress up to her face. “I apologize,” he said. “It’s simply – you look wonderful, Piper.”

She beamed at him. “Keep up the compliments, Golden Boy, and you’ll get all kinds of rewards later.” She tilted her head. “Did you write to your family, too?”

He froze. “Oh. Er.”

She burst out laughing, and Cullen winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maker’s breath. Mia will murder me. I – well, I suppose it’s too late now.”

“She can’t murder you if a pirate captain is your wife,” Piper chuckled. She gave him one more quick kiss, then stepped back. “Well, I’ve got to get back to my cabin.”

“What?” Cullen blurted. “Why?” Everyone was here and waiting, and now that he’d seen her in her dress, he didn’t want her to walk away.

“Ah, Rynne said something about doing something to my face,” she said cheerfully. “We’ll be out soon!” She turned on her heel and hurried back to the officer’s quarters, and Cullen realized with a heated jolt that her dress was backless.

He stared stupidly at her back until she disappeared, then wandered up to the poop deck to wait with the others. Deshanna, Aemeris and Jos joined them soon after, and some time later, after Cullen had lost a few rounds of wicked grace and more than a few silver thanks to his distraction, he heard Hawke’s voice.

“I have a message from the Captain!” she yelled. “She said for everyone to pay attention and shut the fuck up, because she’s coming out.”

There was a wave of laughter from the crew. Cullen perked up, and Deshanna chuckled. “Easy, boy. I’ll bring her out to you.” He patted Cullen heartily on the shoulder and made his way down the stairs.

Varric smirked at Cullen. “We better get in place too, or she’ll skin us.”

“Yes, of course,” Cullen said quickly, and he followed Varric to the cleared deck space where the crew usually did their sparring practice.

The crew patted his back and his shoulders as he passed them by, and he smiled sheepishly as he took his place next to Varric. He forced himself to stand still as he waited, but as much as he hated to admit it, he was feeling rather jittery now.

Varric smirked at him. “Nervous yet?”

“Quiet,” Cullen muttered, and Varric chuckled.

The chattering of the crew suddenly softened, and everyone turned to look at the officer’s quarters.

Cullen straightened up. Breathless with anticipation now, he gazed toward the officer’s quarters until he spotted Deshanna’s taller head, and a hint of Piper’s silvery hair.

Then the crew parted to let them pass, and his heart lodged itself in his throat.

Piper’s face was brilliant with happiness. Hawke had painted some sort of green pigment around her eyes, making them look bigger and more catlike than ever, and she was smiling at him so widely that she looked ready to break into laughter any second. Her left arm was looped through Deshanna’s, and in her right hand she was holding a simple bouquet of that elven flower: the felan’asahngar that had protected him and Dorian from the Dread Wolf, and that she’d given to him when she’d proposed.

He smiled back at her, completely helpless to do anything but smile at the sight of her face. As she drew closer step by step, a funny feeling of surreality stole over him: he, Cullen Rutherford, the former commander of the Kirkwall Navy, was about to marry a notorious pirate on a pirate ship just outside of the most notorious pirate city in Thedas. Agreeing to marry Captain Piper Lavellan was undoubtedly the most unusual and unexpected choice he had ever made in his life. It was certainly not a choice he would have imagined making even a year ago.

But no choice he had ever made before had ever felt this perfectly right, or this perfectly and entirely his.

And now she was standing in front of him. She was kissing Deshanna’s cheek and handing her bouquet to Merrill, and then she was holding his hand and grinning at him so brightly that he couldn’t look away.

“You’re staring, Golden Boy,” she whispered.

He nodded. He couldn’t deny it; of course he was staring, because she was exquisite.

“You’re wonderful,” he said dumbly.

She laughed, and the tips of her precious ears began turning pink. Then Varric cleared his throat. “All right. Ladies and gentlemen–”

“Try again, Varric,” Piper interrupted. “There aren’t any of those on my crew, are there?”

The crew broke into a storm of cheering and stomping, and Cullen chuckled. When the noise died down, Varric smirked and started again.

“All right, fine. We, the rough and rowdy crew of the Lady Luck, both past and present, are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Cullen Rutherford and Piper Lavellan.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly at the crew. “Or, as it’ll be known in the captain’s log, Cullen Rutherford making the greatest decision and the greatest mistake of his life.”

Piper and the crew laughed, and Cullen ruefully shook his head. Varric smiled at them and tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “All right, it’s time for the vows. Piper, you’re up.”

“Excellent,” Piper said happily. “Actually, I don’t have vows, but I do have a story.”

A ripple of laughter rose from the crew. Cullen smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad,” he told her softly. “You know I am fond of your stories.”

“Good, because this is a good one,” she said. Her tone was jaunty, but her hazel eyes were soft and warm and rendered more golden than ever by the delicate green makeup around her eyes, and Cullen’s heart pounded as he stared into her lovely eyes.

She launched into her tale. “There once was an elven girl who was the captain of the best ship in Thedas. She had dirty feet and tattoos from her neck down to her ass, and she had a hearty crew of the most fearsome fighters and drinkers in Thedas.”

The crew cheered and clapped briefly, and Piper’s smile broadened as she went on. “The captain was happy, because all she needed was the wind. She sailed her ship and she killed slavers with her crew, and she went where the winds of fortune took her.” She tilted her head. “One day, the winds carried her to a place called Kirkwall. And in Kirkwall, the captain met a commander who was handsome and fair and who tried – and failed! – to catch her for committing a crime.”

The crew laughed and Cullen scoffed, and Piper’s grin widened before growing soft. “From that day on, the captain’s life was never the same. Before she met the commander, the captain was happy. After the captain met the commander, after he left the navy and joined her ship, she wasn’t just happy. She was… complete.”

Cullen’s breath caught in his throat. Piper broke off and rubbed her nose with her left wrist, and Cullen gently squeezed her hand.

She looked up at him once more, and her bright hazel eyes were shining. “Cullen,” she said firmly, “the winds of fortune brought me to you, and I couldn’t be happier that they did. And you will always remember this as the day you finally caught Captain Piper Lavellan.”

The crew chuckled softly and murmured their approval. Cullen gazed into her eyes, her brilliant eyes brimming with happiness, and he nodded, unable to speak for the lump of emotion that was swelling in his chest.

“All right,” Varric said softly. “Curly, your turn.”

Cullen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then squeezed her hand once more. “Piper, you know I am a lawful man,” he said. “All my life, I have been accustomed to following the rule of the law. I believed laws and policies were there for a reason: to protect people and to keep order. I followed my commanding officers believing that they would keep the peace.” He smiled. “And then I met you.”

The crew laughed, and Piper grinned. Cullen returned her smile, then sobered as he went on. “You, Piper, follow no rules but your own. You follow your sense of right and wrong, and you do what is fair and just. With you as my captain, I… I no longer blindly follow the rules. Instead, I follow you. I would follow you to the world’s end, and not because you are the captain… but because following you means following my heart.” He released her hand and gently cupped her cheek. “Piper Lavellan: it is my honour to make you my wife, and I love you very much.”

She sniffled and beamed at him. “I love you too, Golden Boy,” she whispered. She glanced at Varric. “All right, can I kiss him already or what?”

Varric smirked and shook his head. “All right, all right. By my authority as the first mate on the Lady Luck, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go on and kiss–”

Piper leapt into Cullen’s arms and wrapped her left arm around his neck. He hastily supported her weight, and he barely had time to register her smile before she was kissing him.

The crew burst into stomping and cheering and applause, and Cullen sank shamelessly into Piper’s eager kiss. But he couldn’t stop smiling and neither could she, and a moment later they broke apart laughing.

He carefully set her on her feet, but before they could say anything else, Varric held up a hand. “Oh, hang on. Did you guys have rings or something?” he asked.

“They do,” Rylen said dryly. “Here.” He held out a small velvet pouch.

“Oh shit,” Piper blurted. “I forgot about that.” She laughed raucously, and Cullen could feel his cheeks warming. He gave Rylen a sheepish smile as he took the pouch, then carefully tipped the rings into his hand: a simple gold band for himself, and a ridiculously gaudy gold-and-emerald cocktail ring that Piper had chosen from the Lady Luck’s treasure trove as a joke and would wear only until tomorrow, when she would have a more permanent analog tattooed onto her finger while they were in Rialto.

He carefully slid the gaudy ring onto Piper’s right hand, and she slid the gold band onto Cullen’s left ring finger. Then she grinned at Varric. “Does this mean I can kiss him again, since we fucked it up the first time?”

Varric snorted and waved his hand. “You’re the captain. It’s up to you.”

“Damn right,” Piper said, and she pulled Cullen in by his collar and kissed him once more.

Her kiss was sweeter and more passionate than before, and Cullen blissfully slid his fingers into the silken waves of her hair. The crew laughed and cheered and whistled, and Piper’s beringed hand was stroking his neck, and in this moment, he realized that Piper’s vows were absolutely and unequivocally correct.

Here and now, with his pirate bride in his arms on the ship they both called home, Cullen wasn’t just happy. He was complete.

Pop over to AO3 to read the second chapter! (Spoiler alert: it’s SMUTTY.)

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullavellan #piperford #piper lavellan #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

40 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Photo

Here with Hawke, Fenris didn’t feel tense. His body was sated and replete, and his chest felt deliciously full with all that he’d confessed, and this feeling of goodness and wellbeing was still so new and precious that all he wanted was to lie with Hawke and savour it.

- Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me, Chapter 27

****************

@schoute MADE SO MUCH AMAZING ART THIS WEEK. IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL FAM, I CAN’T EVEN COPE.

Please check out the chapter on AO3 to see the full painting! YOU WON’T REGRET IT, I PROMISE.

#SERIOUSLY GO LOOK AT IT RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOWWWWWW #fenris #fenris smut #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #schoute draws #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

144 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Cullen/Lavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Kindness

YAY @schoute AND I ARE BACK with another chapter of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me!!

In which Piper, Cullen, and a handful of friends go on a rescue mission.😱 The full chapter is >10k words; only a small excerpt here. Read the whole thing on AO3.

************************

- PIPER -

The moment they stepped back into the Arlathan Forest, Piper heard it.

Garas amahn. Come here.

It was the voice again, and it was clearer – and louder – than before. She rubbed her forehead uncomfortably, and Cullen grasped her arm. “Piper, what is it? Are you all right?”

Cole answered for her. “He calls to her, calls through her, louder through the link. He misses her, but it’s not her that he’s missing.”

Merrill’s eyes widened. “Does Fen’Harel really think that Piper is his lost love, then? Is that why he’s calling to her?”

“Confused, clouded with rage and revenge,” Cole said sadly. “He doesn’t understand.”

“That makes two of us,” Piper muttered. She patted Cole’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s move. The faster we get to the temple, the sooner we can figure out how to stop this curse.”

They set off through the forest at an even jog, and Cullen spoke to Cole. “Do you really think it’s possible to make this… this Fen’Harel monster understand that Piper is not his missing love?”

Cole shot him a worried look. “He didn’t want this. Justice, not revenge, but–”

Dorian interrupted. “The faces were close, yes yes, you’ve said this already. But Cole, if you tried to explain to him that we were here to help and it didn’t work, then why do you think persuading him will work a second time around?”

“We have to try,” Merrill said. “We have to try every option to get Hawke and Sutherland the others back from the Well.”

“But what if persuasion doesn’t work?” Dorian said.

Cullen scowled. “Then we destroy the temple if we must.”

Dorian grimaced. “Won’t that just make Fen’Harel more angry?”

“Angry, yes,” Cole said anxiously. “He’s angry already, and that will make it worse.”

Dorian awkwardly rubbed his chin. “So if persuasion doesn’t work, and destroying the temple won’t work–”

“We kill him,” Piper said.

They all looked at her, and Dorian raised his eyebrows. “What’s that now?”

“You heard me,” Piper said in a hard tone. “We’ll kill Fen’Harel. If he doesn’t give Rynne back, I’m going to kill him.”

Merrill wilted slightly. “But Piper–”

Piper cut her off. “I’m sorry, Merrill, but I mean it. I know you’ve been looking for evidence of the elven gods for years, but he took my fucking crew. He gives them back, or he dies.”

“No,” Cole protested. “No no, that’s not helping. Protecting and caring, yes, but not kindness.”

Piper shot him a chiding look. “Listen, Cole, you’re a sweet kid, but if you brought us here because you thought I could be kind to this magical fucking fog that stole my crew’s souls and is keeping them trapped in a nasty black pool underground, then you picked the wrong girl for the job.”

“Wait,” Cullen said suddenly. “This just occurred to me.” He slowed to a stop and folded his arms. “Cole, did you make Piper crash the ship on the shore of Arlathan Forest?”

Merrill’s eyes went wide, and Piper looked at Cole in alarm. Had Cole been the reason for their near-shipwreck on the shores of the Arlathan Forest? He had been oddly calm during that insane storm, after all. And now that Piper was thinking of it, he had told her to listen to the mysterious voice…

“No,” Cole said.

Cullen’s frown deepened. “The way you spoke of Piper made it sound like you led us here on purpose,” he said accusingly.

“Not led,” Cole said. “Being led. It was always her choice. I waited, wandering, watching for someone who felt like her.” He looked at Piper with his vacant blue eyes. “You feel like her: helping, protecting, save the small and heal the hurts. That’s why I came. That’s why I joined.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So… so you purposely joined my crew because you thought I could help Fen’Harel?”

He shook his head again. “Because you helped them. All of them. ‘Crew, lazy load of layabouts, beautiful bilgerats’: different words when they leave your lips, but they sound the same in your heart. Family.”

Her stomach jolted. She stared at him, stunned into silence by how personal he was being. And also how correct he was.

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Save the small, heal the hurts, join the Lady Luck if they want to. Part of the ship, part of the crew.” He nodded approvingly. “You helped them. You can help him, too.”

His words hung softly in the warm forest air, and Piper looked away from him to hide the sudden and inopportune burn of tears in her eyes. All these things Cole had said, nice things about her helping people and the crew being her family and his weird and likely-incorrect belief that she could help Fen’Harel… She couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to hug Cole, or smack him for exposing her so thoroughly in front of the others.

Cullen took her hand. She darted a quick look at him, and the tenderness in his eyes made her heart swell even more.

She squeezed his hand and rubbed her nose, and Dorian jauntily clapped his hands. “Well, I’m certainly won over by that speech. Captain, any thoughts?”

She cleared her throat before speaking. “Let’s just, um, get to the temple and see what we can find. The plan still stands: we’re looking for a way to break this curse, not to put it back into the orb.”

Cullen nodded. “All right, Captain. We will follow your lead.”

She looked up at him. His tone was businesslike, but his chestnut eyes were soft and warm.

Piper smiled at him, then playfully patted his bum before leading their little group through the forest at a brisk jog.

Min vir. This way.

She gritted her teeth and reluctantly followed the voice as it led her deeper into the fern-laden forest. A minute later, Merrill sidled up to her.

“Piper,” she panted. “I just wanted to say I – you – do you think this is my fault?”

Piper glanced at her in surprise. “Huh?”

Merrill winced. “I just… Fenris thinks this was all my fault, but he’s so grumpy and always looking for a reason to fight. But do you...” She broke off, then gave Piper a pleading look. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think anyone would get hurt!”

On Piper’s other side, Cullen spoke up. “There were clear signs of danger, Merrill.”

“But I thought that being with us elves would protect you!” Merrill protested.

“It’s okay,” Piper said firmly. “It’s… nobody could have known. Everything here is weird. And…” She sighed. “I’m the captain. I could have ordered us to go back to the Lady Luck at any time. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Merrill’s face fell with dismay. “Piper...”

“It’s fine, really,” she said quickly. “I’m going – no, we’re going to fix this. All of us together. We’ll make it fine.”

Merrill blew out a breath. “Yes, exactly. We’re going to find a solution at the temple, no matter if we have to look all night long! Though I hope we find a solution before it gets dark, it’ll be much harder to see in the darkness, although that’s what lanterns are for–”

Cullen cleared his throat, and Merrill broke off with a giggle. “Oh dear, I’m babbling again. I’ll just, um, pop over to Cole and see what else he can tell us about the Dread Wolf’s lost lady. If she was anything like you, Piper, she must have been lovely!”

Piper snorted and elbowed her. “Suck-up. Get out of here.”

Merrill giggled and fell back to join Dorian and Cole. A moment later, Cullen took her hand.

She shot him a sidelong glance. His eyes were on the forest ahead, but his expression was quite relaxed, and Piper tilted her head quizzically. Given the seriousness of the situation, she was frankly surprised that he wasn’t wearing his usual worried frown.

He glanced at her, then tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No, actually,” she said. “You just… you don’t look worried. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer you looking not worried, but I’m surprised.”

He hummed a rueful acknowledgement. “Truth be told, I am worried. But not in the same way as before.”

“Why aren’t you as worried?” she asked. “Things are just as bad as they were yesterday.”

He gave her a fond look. “Because you told Merrill we will fix this together as a group. You’re willing to accept our help.”

She wilted a bit. “Was I really scaring you that much yesterday?”

“It scared me that you wouldn’t talk to me,” he said gently. “You wouldn’t let me be privy to your thoughts. But we are working as a team now, as it was in Kirkwall during Meredith’s attack on the docks.”

She grunted. “Probably not a great sign that you’re pleased about things being like they were during Meredith’s attack on the docks.”

He squeezed her hand. “I gave you a hard time last night, and I am truly sorry for that,” he said. “But now, this feels… I have more hope now.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “If you’re less worried, then I’m glad.” But in truth, her stomach was churning with guilt. She’d been so preoccupied trying to make up for the disastrous consequences of the storm that she hadn’t realized just how much of an impact her attitude was having on Cullen’s state of mind.

They spent the majority of the day running, albeit at a more measured pace than their frantic race back to the Lady Luck the day before. By the time they reached the ancient elven temple, evening was falling and the forest was growing dark.

Piper and her companions paused at the mouth of the temple to catch their breath and light their lanterns. Merrill looked at them all with wide and worried eyes. “Should we start by searching the outside the temple for engravings? We know there was only the one obelisk inside, so maybe there’s something more on the walls out here.”

Dorian shrugged as he lifted up a lantern. “It’s as good an idea as any. Piper, what do you think?”

“Huh?” Piper said distractedly. “Uh, yeah. Search outside.”

Cullen placed a gentle hand at the small of her back. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m… it’s just loud,” she said. “And annoying.” She rubbed her forehead and looked at Merrill. “It’s not bothering you? The… Fen’Harel’s voice?”

To Piper’s dismay, Merrill made an apologetic face. “I… I don’t hear it anymore, Piper. I think maybe only you can hear it now because of the cur– er, the light in your hand.”

Piper frowned to hide her growing distress. She was annoyed and scared and further annoyed by how scared she was. It was just a stupid voice, after all, and she was going to get rid of it, so there was no point in being scared.

“Do you understand it?” Merrill said softly. “The voice?”

“Yes, actually,” Piper said slowly. “Which is weird, because I didn’t really before.”

“What is it saying?” Cullen asked.

Piper licked her dry lips. “It’s…” She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes to let the voice enter her mind.

You found me, at last. Come, vhenan. This way.

She blew out a breath and opened her eyes. “He thinks I’m her,” she said. “The old Lavellan. He called me ‘vhenan’. He wants us to go back inside the stupid temple.” To ward off her growing fear, she elbowed Merrill playfully. “You think this Fen’harel fog thing is going to try and, uh, commune with me?”

Cullen eyes widened, and Merrill let out a little giggle, albeit a nervous one. “I doubt it. Why don’t we–”

“You doubt it?” Piper interrupted in surprise. “What does that mean? You think there’s a possibility?”

“Yes, what does that mean?” Dorian piped in. “I’m torn between being horrified and intrigued.”

“That is not going to happen,” Cullen said loudly.

Despite her nerves, Piper gave him a roguish smile. “Feeling a little possessive, Golden Boy?”

He scowled and folded his arms. “I can hardly be blamed for wanting to keep a confused and lustful, er, god-entity away from my future wife.”

Piper snickered and elbowed Dorian. “He really knows how to woo a girl, wouldn’t you say?”

Dorian chuckled, and Merrill shook her head in despair. “Oh Piper, you’re so silly. We should stay on track. I think we should follow the voice.”

Cullen wilted in exasperation. “Merrill, following the voice is what led us into this trouble in the first place. Perhaps we should consider doing the opposite of what the voice tells us.”

“But that means just standing here and doing nothing!” Merrill complained.

“Or,” Cullen said pointedly, “it means following your original plan of searching the outside of the temple for clues.”

Merrill frowned at him, then sighed and turned to Piper. “Captain, it’s your call. What do you want to do?”

Piper hesitated. She was genuinely torn about what to do next. On the one hand, searching the outside of the temple was the more logical plan for the reasons that both Merrill and Cullen had outlined; they had come back in the hopes of finding information that might help them to break the curse, and the last time they’d followed the voice, only harm had come of it.

But Piper couldn’t stop worrying about time. The faster they fixed this problem, the faster Rynne and Sutherland and Shayle and Marie would be back to themselves.

She nibbled the inside of her cheek for a moment. Follow your instincts, Fenris had said. It was advice she’d never needed before; she’d always followed her instincts before, unless both Varric and Fenris had expressed very clear and vocal concerns about her course of action. But now that this series of disasters had occurred, Piper was full of doubt about her own instincts.

She toyed with her braids while she tried to think. Then her gaze fell on Cole.

He was standing near Dorian and looking around at the forest in his usual dreamlike manner, and Piper eyed him speculatively for a moment. She’d honestly never paid that much attention to Cole, even on the Lady Luck; she’d sort of gotten into the bad habit of seeing him as an extension of Dorian, given how closely they worked together in their navigating roles.

But Cole wasn’t anything like Piper had thought. He wasn’t just a strange young man she’d recruited during one of their shore leaves. He was some sort of… spirit-god-boy who was friends with the trickster god of elven legend, and was somehow able to pick his way right down to the most sensitive parts of everyone’s souls.

If Piper was honest, it made her scalp crawl a little bit to think that Cole might know everything that was going through her mind. But at the same time, Cole saw her intentions. He saw that she meant to take care of her crew – her family. He saw what she was trying to do, and he seemed to think she was on the right track, even if she’d fucked it up along the way.

On instinct, she made her decision: to leave the decision to him. “Cole, what do you think we should do?”

“Inside is where he hurts the most,” Cole said. “Hurt and hurting, howling, deep and drowning in the well.”

Merrill raised her eyebrows. “Do you think we’ll find more information on how to break the curse if we go inside?”

Cole blinked at her. “I tried before, but I tried alone. If we try, we aren’t alone, and he might see.”

“See what?” Piper said.

“That he’s not alone, either,” Cole replied.

Piper frowned. This didn’t really make sense, but it seemed clear enough that Cole thought they should go inside.

She shrugged. “All right. Let’s go on into the temple, then.” She swallowed hard, then squared her shoulders with a confidence she didn’t feel and led the way.

Read the rest on AO3!

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullavellan #piperford #piper lavellan #may the dread wolf take you...#O_o #pikapeppa writes #pikascout #cole #cole dragon age #merrill #dorian pavus

33 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Sunday Snippets

Tagged by @rpgwarrior4824 - thanks love!!

From the next chapter of my and @schoute’s project, Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me (i.e. pirate AU with Cullen/Piper Lavellan and Fenris/Rynne Hawke.

SPOILERS, so don’t read if you aren’t caught up!

*******************

To ward off her growing fear, Piper elbowed Merrill playfully. “You think this Fen’harel fog thing is going to try and, uh, commune with me?”

Cullen’s eyes widened, and Merrill let out a little giggle, albeit a nervous one. “I doubt it. Why don’t we–”

“You doubt it?” Piper interrupted in surprise. “What does that mean? Do you mean there’s a possibility?”

“Yes, what does that mean?” Dorian piped in. “I’m torn between being horrified and intrigued.”

“That is not going to happen,” Cullen said loudly.

Despite her nerves, Piper gave him a roguish smile. “Feeling a little possessive, Golden Boy?”

He scowled and folded his arms. “I can hardly be blamed for wanting to keep a confused and lustful, er, god-entity away from my future wife.”

***********************

CULLENNNNNNN. 😂❤️

Tagging forward to everyone! It’s quiet out here today! WIPs for writing or for art, anyone? @schoute @elveny @faerieavalon @serial-chillr @johaeryslavellan @solas-disapproves @midnightprelude @kita-lavellan @kittimau @mrscullensrutherford @barbex @star--nymph @levikra @lethendralis-paints @scharoux @kourvo @stella-minerva @fandomn00blr @myfeyrelady and anyone else who’s in a sharing mood!

#tag meme #fanfic writer's life #cullen rutherford #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #piperford #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #pikascout #pikapeppa writes

35 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Cullen/Lavellan and FenHawke pirate AU: Sorrow

After making you wait for 238957 years, Chapter 35 of me and @schoute‘s beloved pirate project Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3!

In which we find out what happens now that Piper has TOUCHED THE ORB. DAMMIT PIPER KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF.

Only an excerpt is here (the chapter is ~9200 words); read the whole thing on AO3.

*******************

- CULLEN -

Don’t, he thought, but it was too late. The jade orb was already in Piper’s hand.

He darted his gaze to her face. She and Merrill were staring at the orb, Piper with a frown and Merrill with huge wondering eyes, and… nothing was happening.

Cullen released a slow breath. Of course nothing was happening. It was just a piece of jade, after all, so of course nothing was happening.

He ignored the anxious buzz in his chest and frowned at her. “Now that you have what you came for, might we return to the ship?”

“Yes, quite,” Dorian said. “Or at least to the upper part of the temple. It’s far more charming than this, er, rustic cavern.” He grimaced at the glassy black surface of the pool that occupied most of the cave.

Hawke grinned at him. “What’s the matter, Dorian? Not fond of dark and scary caves?”

“Shockingly enough, no,” Dorian said. “Are you?”

“I don’t mind,” she said cheerfully. She patted Fenris’s arm. “Not since I have this big handsome elf to… Fenris, are you all right?”

Cullen looked at Fenris. He was scowling, but his eyes were fixed on the orb in Piper’s hand.

Cullen turned to look at her once more. She and Merrill were still staring at the orb, even though nothing was happening.

“Piper,” he said loudly. “We should return to the Lady Luck.”

It was Fenris who replied. “It’s pulsing,” he said blankly. “The orb. It’s… pulsing.”

Cullen gazed at the orb with growing alarm. It wasn’t pulsing. It wasn’t doing a blasted thing. But everything that had been happening revolved around the elves, and Cullen wasn’t an elf…

He took a step closer to her. “Piper–”

The orb suddenly burst into light, and Cullen flinched at the intensity. The light was blindingly green like a firework flare, making Dorian jump in alarm while Fenris pulled Hawke against his chest, and Piper…

She was gaping at the orb, and her hazel eyes were huge and scared.

She looked scared. Piper looked visibly scared. Since the moment they’d sailed into the storm, she’d been trying so hard to pretend she wasn’t scared. Now, to see the fear spilling across her face like wine on a tablecloth…

Cullen grasped her arm. “Put it down!” he commanded. “Piper, drop the orb!”

“I can’t,” she snapped. “I’m trying, I – my fucking fingers are stuck!”

“The water!” Hawke cried. “It’s – there’s something in it!”

Cullen looked up, and his jaw dropped in shock. The surface of the pool was no longer a smooth and glassy surface. It was writhing with movement now, almost as though something below the surface was rippling and shifting.

He turned to Piper once more. The orb was still flaring with light, and Cullen squinted as he reached for it. “Piper, we need to leave this place. You must leave this here. I’m–”

“No!” she blurted, and she tucked it against her chest. “Don’t touch it, it’s–”

“It is worthless if we fall prey to this uncanny danger!” he shouted. “Leave the blasted orb and let us take our leave!”

“I can’t!” she bellowed. “It’s – ah!” She clutched her left wrist and hunched over. Her face was twisted in a snarl, and the orb was still clasped firmly in her left hand.

Cullen’s chest seized with fear. He curved his arm around her. “What’s wrong? Is it hurting you?” he demanded.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I’m trying to – fucking – drop it,” she gritted. “I…” Her fingers were trembling with effort, and as the seconds ticked by without her dropping the orb, Cullen’s panic ratcheted higher.

He reached for the orb again, determined to pry it from her hand if he had to. Before he could knock it away, something burst out of it: a thick greenish fog that rose into the air, roiling madly like steam from a kettle.

He recoiled in shock, and as he watched in horror, the mist gathered and above them before splitting apart into clouds.

One cloud shot away toward the stairs and out of sight, and Dorian grimaced. “I don’t think that’s a good thing,” he said in a shaking voice.

“Those voices aren’t good either,” Hawke said. She looked up at Fenris and clutched his arm, which was clasped tightly around her waist. “Is that what you’ve been hearing all this time?”

Cullen dragged in a breath. Now that she mentioned it, he could hear voices too. It sounded like someone – many someones – crying out in pain. But the cries were muted, as though he was hearing them through a brick wall.

“Look out!” Fenris barked.

Cullen looked up, and his whole body seized with terror. The green fog was plunging toward him and Piper–

He dragged her against his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. Dorian cried out in shock, and Hawke let out a strangled little scream, and the muted cries of pain sounded louder than before…

“Cole?” Dorian yelped. “What are you– How–?”

Cullen looked up. Cole was – Cole was here? Cole was here? What in the Maker’s name was Cole doing here?

He gaped at Cole in shock. The pale young man looked dishevelled and scared, but he was bent over a crouching Dorian, and the green fog was peeling away from them and off toward the stairs.

But the fog wasn’t leaving Fenris and Hawke alone. Fenris’s face was a picture of terror, and Hawke…

Her body was arched and rigid like a bow in Fenris’s arms. Her mouth was open, like a silent gasp for air, and the fog was pouring into her open mouth.

“No,” Fenris rasped. “S-stop…” He tried to cover her mouth, but the fog poured through his fingers and between her lips.

A split second later, almost faster than Cullen could blink, the fog retreated from her body and plunged into the writhing black pool. A soft wail of despair rose from the pool, and the hair on Cullen’s arms stood on end.

That was where the cries of sorrow were coming from. They were emanating from this pool, this roiling tar-black pool full of… of what, exactly? It wasn’t just water. It couldn’t be. Water didn’t behave like this, like it was trying to roll its way out of the confines of its own receptacle.

A solid thunk made him jump. The orb had finally dropped from Piper’s fingers, and it was no longer flaring with light.

She slumped against his chest. “Fuck,” she whimpered.

He released a heavy breath, but there was no time for relief; she was cradling her left hand against her chest as though it was injured. Before he could say anything about it, Fenris’s sharp voice rang through the cavern.

“Hawke!” he barked. “Hawke, look at me. Hawke.”

Cullen looked up once more, and a dull thump of horror twisted in his gut. Hawke was lying on the ground, and Fenris was patting her face and shaking her shoulders, but she wasn’t moving at all.

Read the rest on AO3.

#where the winds of fortune take me #cullen rutherford #fenris #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullavellan #piperford #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #fhawris #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

37 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Last Line Meme

Been a while since I did this one - thanks for the tags to @schoute and... I swear there were others but my notifs seem to have swallowed them. NO MATTER, I’LL JUST TAG EVERYONE AT THE END.

From a little Witcher/Dragon Age Crossover AU piece That is 100% SCHOUTE'S FUCKING FAULT. CAN’T WAIT TO GET TO WORK TOGETHER ON THIS FUCKING AU AS SOON AS I FINISH MY OTHER WIPs.

In which Fenris is a witcher and Rynne Hawke is, predictably, a sorceress. Here is the last line I wrote:

Rynne chuckled and settled on her side again. “You should train yourself in using different swear words. Try a little ‘fuck’ here and there.”

GOD DAMMIT RYNNE KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS.

Tagging forward to @johaeryslavellan @serial-chillr @faerieavalon @charlatron @midnightprelude e @solas-disapproves @lethendralis-paints @elveny @kita-lavellan @lyrium-lavellan @iarollane @the-rogue-mockingjay @river-of-asgard @mrscullensrutherford @oops-gingermoment @alyssalenko @obvidalous @myfeyrelady and anyone else who would like a turn!

#tag meme #fanfic writer's life #fenris #the witcher #witcher au #BECAUSE WHAT I REALLY NEEDED WAS ANOTHER WIP #(TRULY THOUGH I'M THRILLED ABOUT THIS IDEA AND WE'RE HAVING A BALL)#fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

45 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Felan’asahngar

Chapter 32 of me and @schoute‘s lovechild project Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3! In which the babes wind down for their first night in the mysterious Arlathan Forest. Warning: lots of talky-talk and schmoopy feelings.

This week we have Fenris and Cullen’s POV’s; only the first part is here. Read the whole thing on AO3.

- FENRIS -

Fenris was ten paces away from the camp when he realized he shouldn’t be stomping so noisily through the ferns. The more noise he made, the more likely he was to attract enemy attention, and then Hawke would be in even greater danger than she already was.

Though if he was worried about making noise, he supposed he shouldn’t have been shouting at Merrill.

He slowed to a stop and dragged a hand through his hair. Merrill was just so infuriating. Fenris was appalled that she was prioritizing the thrill of discovery over the safety of the crew. But he supposed he should expect nothing less from someone who had left her clan behind for the sake of her search for elven relics.

That was the real reason that Merrill was so blasé about the potential danger here: she had nothing to lose in the course of this ill-advised venture. Fenris, on the other hand, could lose the person who mattered to him the most. He had everything to lose from this cursed quest.

So did Piper, for that matter. Fenris could only imagine the wrath she would bring if any harm came to Cullen. But Piper trusted Merrill too much. Despite Piper’s incessant playful insults to the crew, Fenris knew she had the utmost confidence in the competence of everyone on the ship. And in Merrill’s case, that was a problem.

Fenris didn’t care what Merrill said; she couldn’t know for certain that the forest was safe for Hawke and the other humans — or even for herself and Fenris and Piper, for that matter. And yet she refused to entertain the possibility that she was wrong.

“Fenris?”

He whipped around. Hawke was picking her way through the foliage with a lantern in hand and a smile on her face.

He rushed over to her. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “You can’t be wandering around on your own.”

“Why not? You are,” she said archly. “Besides, we’ve hardly wandered off. The others can still hear us talking if they listen hard. Which, let’s be honest, they probably are.”

“We are not,” Dorian yelled from the camp.

Fenris curled his lip, and Hawke laughed. “Come on,” she said, and she took his hand and pulled him deeper into the forest.

When they were far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard, Hawke came to a stop and soothingly stroked his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he repeated incredulously. He gestured angrily at their camp. “Merrill waits until we are deep in the heart of this forest before revealing that it was an omen of danger that led us here, and you ask what’s wrong?”

Hawke pulled a little face. “All right, touché. But nothing bad has happened yet.”

“Just because nothing bad has happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t,” Fenris retorted.

“But that’s like everything in life, isn’t it?” she said. “You can’t just sit around doing nothing in case bad things could happen. Maybe nothing bad will happen to you, but nothing good will happen either.”

“I am well aware of that,” he snarled.

“All right,” she said cautiously. “Then why–” She broke off and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh shit, Fenris, I didn’t mean just you.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “I meant in general, not just you. And I mean, I’m the same, right? I could have stayed in Kirkwall and done nothing. And maybe nothing bad would have – well, there was that whole engagement thing…” She awkwardly tugged her ear, then waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, my point is that if I hadn’t run away from Kirkwall, I wouldn’t have joined the Lady Luck. And sure, joining the Lady Luck could have gone terribly, but it didn’t. Instead of bad things happening, the best thing happened instead.”

“And what’s that?” he said grumpily.

“I found you, of course.” She smiled and tilted her head. “You might be scowling at me now, but I like your scowl far more than any smile I ever saw in Kirkwall.”

He gazed at her lovely face. She looked so content and hopeful, and here he was snarling at her when his ire wasn’t even her fault…

A mixture of affection and guilt prodded his heart. He sighed and finally squeezed her hand. “So you truly think this venture is worth pursuing, despite this warning about ‘knowing sorrow’?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I think we don’t know enough to say it’s not worth pursuing. I mean, Merrill didn’t even say who that warning is about. Maybe the people who are going to ‘know sorrow’ are the rude ones who step on critters and try to cut down the trees. We haven’t done any of that.” She looked up at the forest canopy and did a curtsy. “Thank you for having us, by the way, O Mysterious Forest.”

Her tone was polite, but the curl of her lips was cheeky. Fenris huffed and folded his arms. “The forest can’t hear you.”

“I don’t know, Fenris. Maybe Fen’Harel is watching,” she said. She lowered her voice and took a step closer to him. “We should go have ritual sex in front of his monument. He sounds like the sort of god who’d appreciate that kind of hedonistic tribute.”

Fenris huffed again. “Truly, Hawke, you are an idiot,” he said. He pinched her waist, and she squeaked and slapped his hand.

“Only for you, Fenris,” she giggled. “Only for you.”

He smiled at her, then idly rubbed the red ribbon on his wrist before giving her a sideways look. “So I take it you don’t believe the voice is Fen’Harel, then.”

“I honestly have no idea,” she said cheerfully. “That would be a lark if it was, though, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine if an elven god was real? The Chantry would shit themselves.” She snickered, then blinked at him. “Why do you ask? You don’t think it’s Fen’Harel, do you?”

“No,” he said. But even as he said it, his belly started to writhe with uncertainty.

Hawke tilted her head, and he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s…” He swallowed hard. “This voice. This… odd feeling of being led somewhere by a force beyond my control. I don’t like it, Hawke.”

Her expression softened, and she took a step closer to him and stroked his forearm. “Don’t think of it like it’s controlling you,” she suggested. “Think of it like… like a sixth sense. An extra sense that lets you know something that we humans don’t! I kind of wish I could hear it. I’m so curious what it sounds like.” Her eyes widened suddenly, and she winced. “Maker’s balls. Is that an awful thing to say? I know you wish you didn’t hear it at all–”

“How are you so optimistic about all of this?” he interrupted.

Her expression grew cautious, and he shook his head slightly. “I am not angry,” he assured her. “I am…” He broke off and frowned at her curiously. “You are genuinely not worried about the ominous nature of any of this?”

She shrugged and tucked her hands in her pockets. “I don’t know, I just… I don’t see a reason to assume the worst. No point worrying if we don’t know if there’s anything to worry about. I mean, imagine Merrill is right and everything is fine, and you spent all that time brooding for no reason.”

He grunted. “I don’t brood.”

She chuckled. “Worrying in a very handsome manner, then,” she said, and she gently pinched his chin. “Let’s just go with the flow. We’ll be like a river and go where the path takes us. Or this mystery voice, as it were.”

Fenris studied her in silence for a moment. Now that Hawke had mentioned it, she really was rather like a river, but not for the reason she thought. Rivers did take the path of least resistance, certainly, but a river could also eat its way through even the hardest stone, gradually but patiently carving its own path and leaving an indelible mark behind.

If Hawke was a river, then… then Fenris was the stone. He knew he could be inflexible and unyielding, yet here Hawke was, bleeding through his boundaries bit by bit and carving herself permanently on his heart.

He sighed and pulled her close. “Your enthusiasm is infuriating,” he said fondly.

She grinned and slid her arms around his waist. “Thank you. I try.” Then she perked up. “Maybe next time we run into some more enemies, I can even try to fight them!”

He raised an eyebrow at her non-sequitur. “If we run into more enemies, I would hope you would fight them,” he said slowly.

Her smile melted slightly with surprise. “Am I allowed to fight them?”

He frowned. What sort of comment was that? “Of course,” he asked. “You should fight them. Why else have I been training you to defend yourself?”

She peered at him carefully, almost as though she didn’t believe him, and Fenris frowned more deeply at her odd expression. Then she smiled brightly. “Maybe because you like practice-fighting as foreplay? I know how much you like pinning me to the floor before you fuck me…” She pressed her pelvis closer to his.

His body flared with interest, but he forced himself to ignore it. Why was she behaving so oddly?

“What is this about?” he asked.

She laughed lightly. “Nothing, nothing! Let’s go back to the others before Dorian and Piper drink all the rum.” She released him and took a step back, but Fenris grabbed her hand before she could move away. Her tone might be cheerful, but she wasn’t looking at him – a sure sign that she was upset about something.

He pulled her close once more. “Hawke. What is this really about?”

She dropped her gaze and nibbled her lower lip, then finally met his eyes. “Why didn’t you let me sneak up on the pirate camp?”

Ah. He wilted slightly as she went on. “Did you think I couldn’t do it?” she asked. “That I’d ruin the ambush?”

“No,” he said. “That’s not why.”

“Are you sure?” she said. “You were pretty adamant that I shouldn’t do it.”

“It is not because I doubt your skill,” he insisted. “Your combat abilities have been improving. You know this. Besides, a stealth kill is technically simpler than killing someone who is attacking you.”

“Then why didn’t you let me try?” she said plaintively.

He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “A stealth kill is… different from killing someone who attacked you first. It is not just a matter of technique. It is the knowledge that you are the attacker this time.” He gazed at her seriously. “When you kill someone in cold blood, you aren’t defending yourself. You aren’t blameless. You are the murderer. I wanted to spare you that.”

“But… but we were defending ourselves,” Hawke said softly. “They would have killed us if they had found us first.”

“I know that. I…” He sighed. “Perhaps it was misguided. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair again, then dropped his hand to his side.

She gently squeezed his arm. “I’m going to have to do it eventually. Especially if there are more strange pirates wandering around in this forest.”

“I know, Hawke,” he said testily. “I just wanted…” He trailed off. The truth was that he didn’t want Hawke to grow accustomed to killing. Fenris’s life as a fighter and a dealer of death was not something he would have chosen for himself, and it was a life he didn’t want for her.

“You are not a murderer,” he said quietly. “Not yet. I wanted you to keep that for a little longer.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that what you think you are? You and the rest of the crew?”

He dropped her gaze. He couldn’t speak for the rest of the crew, but he himself… He knew what he had done in the lyrium mines in Tevinter.

“These unprovoked kills are… corrupting,” he said. “I don’t want you to be hardened by this.”

She suddenly cupped his face in her hands. “You are not corrupted,” she said fiercely. “You’re not corrupted or spoiled or ruined or any of those things, all right? And I won’t be either. It’s like you said when I joined the Lady Luck: everyone has to know how to kill. It’s a necessary part of pirate life. But it won’t corrupt me, and it hasn’t corrupted you either.”

His throat felt thick. He took a deep breath and met her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you question your skill,” he said quietly. “That wasn’t my… Hawke, I…”

“It’s all right,” she said. She stroked his cheek, then shot him a cheeky smile. “I was worried you thought I was useless, but as long as—”

He clasped her neck and cut her off with a hard kiss, then pressed his forehead to hers. “You are not useless,” he told her fiercely. “You’re… you are indispensable.”

She let out a breathless little laugh. “I don’t know about that. The Lady Luck could certainly get along without me.”

He shook his head roughly. “I don’t mean the Lady Luck. I mean…” He broke off and let out a slow exhale. In the space of the few short months that he and Hawke had known each other, everything had changed. Fenris no longer moved mindlessly from day to day in a rote and static manner. Because of Hawke, he was happier, less lonely, less angry. Every day held something new and interesting and amusing because he was seeing it through Hawke’s curious eyes. His life was irrevocably changed, heightened and shaped by Hawke’s arrival, and now that she was here, he couldn’t imagine living any other way.

The thick feeling in his throat was swelling, warming his chest and filling his ribs with a heated wave of emotion that was rising to his tongue, and he opened his mouth to set it free before his long-held inhibitions could get the best of him.

“Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you,” he blurted.

Her mouth popped open in surprise, and Fenris waited tensely for her to reply. A heartbeat later, a smile burst across her face.

She hiccupped suddenly, and a tear ran down her cheek. “Oh Maker,” she said, and she hastily wiped her face. “Now you’ve done it. My eyes are going to get all puffy and hideous–”

He exhaled in relief. “Shut up, Hawke,” he said, and he kissed her again.

She twined her arms around his neck as he pulled her tight against his chest, and for a sweet, suspended moment of bliss, he sank wholeheartedly into the plumpness of her lips and the delicious taste of her tongue.

Then Dorian’s jovial voice yelled out from their little camp. “Fenris? Hawke? You two had better not have gotten eaten by wolves or some such horror.”

Fenris growled in annoyance, and Hawke laughed brightly and kissed his cheek. “Shall we go back to the others and assuage their concerns about our being eaten?” she murmured.

“If we must,” he grumbled.

She chuckled and gently pinched his chin. “So grumpy, you are. Lucky for you that I love your pout as much as your smile.”

He shot her a chiding smirk, and they slowly made their way back to the camp.

Dorian was sitting beside Merrill, who was still working on her charcoal rubbing from the wolf monument. Fenris raised an eyebrow at Dorian. “Where are Cullen and Piper?”

“Gone to fill our waterskins, or so they say.” Dorian stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “It’s my personal belief that the Captain’s real intention is to lure Cullen into swimming naked in the nearest body of water, but that’s just my thought.”

Hawke snickered. “I would bet that you’re right if I had any coin to bet.”

Dorian smirked at her. “And what about you, my dear Hawke? Did you enjoy your romantic stroll through the haunted forest?”

“Dorian, I told you,” Merrill said vaguely. “The forest is not haunted.”

Hawke clasped her hands dramatically. “Oh, it was lovely, thank you for asking! Ghosts serenaded us with a romantic ballad while we kissed beneath the moon…”

Dorian tutted. “Now that’s just completely untrue. You can’t see the moon through these leaves.”

Hawke winked at him, then took Fenris’s hand and led him over to their bedrolls, which they had laid out earlier that evening on a nearby patch of moss and grass. Hawke immediately settled down with a yawn, but Fenris seated himself cross-legged on his bedroll and reached for his whetstone.

He began to sharpen his dagger with brisk, careful strokes. A moment later, Hawke sat up on one elbow. “You’re not tired?”

He glanced at her, then tilted his head subtly at Merrill and Dorian. “I can’t sleep like this,” he said quietly. In truth, however, the problem was not only the presence of other people. Now that Fenris knew the unsettling dream voice was linked somehow to the forest, he was reluctant to allow it to infiltrate his sleeping mind.

Hawke’s eyebrows rose in sympathy, and Fenris shook his head. “Don’t concern yourself. I will keep guard.”

“But Dorian is keeping guard,” Hawke said softly. “You should get some rest.”

He gave her a flat look, but she wasn’t looking at him; she was inspecting their surroundings with a thoughtful look on her face. A moment later, she smiled at him.

“Come on,” she said. “I have an idea.” She stood up and gestured for him to get off of his bedroll.

Somewhat reluctantly, he followed her over to a nearby fallen moss-covered tree. She arranged the bedrolls alongside the fallen tree, then sat with her back resting against the trunk.

She patted the space between her legs and smiled up at him. “Come sit here.”

Fenris glanced self-consciously at Dorian and Merrill, but they were talking animatedly and ignoring him and Hawke. Somewhat reassured by their lack of attention, he gingerly sat between Hawke’s legs.

She pulled his shoulders. “Get cozy,” she urged. “Come on, loosen up that lovely lanky body of yours and make yourself comfortable.”

He scoffed, then settled back against her chest and stretched his legs out. “Fine. Now what?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Now I hug you until you fall asleep,” she said brightly. She tucked some of his hair behind his ear and kissed his temple. “You threw away that flower I gave you, hmm?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re not wearing it,” she said.

“That doesn’t mean I threw it away. It’s in my pouch.”

She barked out a surprised little laugh. “You’re serious? I’m… I didn’t really expect you to keep it.”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I keep it? You gave it to me.”

Hawke was silent for a moment. Then she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. “And because I love you so much, I’m going to put you to sleep.”

Her affectionate words made his heart flip, just as they always did. He smoothed his palm along her forearm. “You can try,” he said. “I don’t think you will have much success.”

She chuckled softly. “Ever the pessimist, Fenris.” Very quietly, she started to sing.

When we arrive, sons and daughters We'll make our homes on the water We'll build our walls of aluminum We'll fill our mouths with cinnamon now

A shiver of warmth ran down his neck. Her voice was breathy and quiet but just as sweet as he remembered from that night at the Hanged Man in Rialto. Her whole body was like a warm embrace, her arms around his neck and her thighs cradling his hips, and Fenris closed his eyes to better focus on the clarity of her voice flowing into his ear.

These currents pull us 'cross the border Steady your boats, arms to shoulder 'Til tides all pull our hull aground Making this calm harbour our home

He let out a long, heavy sigh. The last dregs of his anger and uncertainty were finally leaving him, drifting from his belly and his lungs and out through his mouth.

He settled his head back against collarbone, and she chuckled softly. “Are you cozy yet?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Keep singing. Please.”

She kissed his temple once more, and Fenris could hear the smile in her voice as she continued to sing the simple repeating melody. He wouldn’t be able to sleep; of that he was certain. But it was nice to be able to relax after the frustration of his argument with Merrill.

It was the last thought he remembered before he drifted off to sleep.

Read the rest from Cullen’s POV on AO3!

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #fenris #cullen rutherford #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #cullavellan #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #piperford #schoute draws #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

59 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Cullen/Lavellan and FenHawke pirate AU: Wake Up

Chapter 36 of @schoute and my love project Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3!

In which Fenris tries to cope with the outcome of the old elven temple. ~5700 words; read here on AO3 instead.

**********************

- FENRIS -

Fenris went to his cabin as quickly as his aching legs could carry him. His calves were trembling from the nearly non-stop running and his stomach was almost hurting from hunger, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was Hawke. She was alive, and she needed to stay that way. If there was a chance to undo what that cursed orb had done, she had to stay alive. She had to stay alive and breathing and warm to the touch, because if she – if Hawke–

His gut twisted with nausea at the thought. He gritted his teeth and stumbled toward his cabin, then shoved open the door.

Hawke was laid out on the bed. Her shirt was unlaced down to her bustier, and Anders was resting the side of his face against her chest.

“What are you doing?” Fenris demanded.

“Shh. I’m listening to her heart,” he replied. He shot Fenris a baleful look. “What do you think I’m doing? Testing the unconscious woman’s bosom for a new pillow? I’m not that bad of a doctor.”

Fenris scowled as he closed the door. He stood tensely at the foot of the bed until Anders lifted his head.

He sighed and nodded. “Sounds good. Slow but steady. It really is like she’s just asleep and won’t wake up.” He rubbed his stubbled chin. “It’s odd. None of them are reacting to anything. Sternal rub, trapezius pinch–”

“We tried all of that,” Fenris interrupted.

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Don’t snap at me. I’m just thinking out loud.” He reached for a basin on the floor beside his stool and lifted a cloth from the bowl, then squeezed it out and began wiping Hawke’s sweat-and-dirt-streaked face.

Fenris stepped around the bed and held out his hand. “Let me do that,” he said.

Anders gave him another exasperated look. “You look terrible, you know. You need fluids and food, too. You should go to the galley.”

Fenris looked around his cabin, then picked up the nearest cup and drank the contents – a stale and stone-cold infusion of elfroot, as it so happened. He put the cup down and held out his hand. “Give me the cloth. I will do that.”

Anders sighed loudly, then slapped the cloth into his hand and stood up. “Fine. Knock yourself out. I can set up the fluids in the meantime.” He left Fenris’s cabin, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Fenris glared at his departing back, then turned to Hawke. She really did just look like she was sleeping; her face was so relaxed and still. But even unconscious, the corners of her lips were turned up in the slightest hint of a curl, like she was smiling at him even in her sleep…

His eyes were burning. He sniffed hard, then moistened the cloth in the basin and carefully brushed her bangs back from her forehead before wiping her forehead in soft and careful strokes.

The sweat and dirt wiped away easily, revealing the pale golden smoothness of her skin, and a memory suddenly jumped to the front of his mind: the time that she had cleaned his skin in just this careful way, right after that terrible altercation with his sister in Afsaana. He’d been covered in blood and dirt, and Hawke had wafted into his room with her doctor’s kit and that damned unshakable smile on her face. She’d helped him to clean the dirt from his shoulders and his back, her tender fingers sluicing the water away from the waistband of his breeches as it carried away the evidence of his ordeal…

A tear streaked its way down his cheek. He finished cleaning the left side of her face, then squeezed out the rag before moving on to clean the delicate dips around her eyes and nose.

She’d been so kind to him that day – and every day, truly. Kind without being pitying, funny and maddeningly flirtatious, full of hope and optimism, and… and now she was silent and still, all because Fenris had been incautious. He’d known in his gut that this trip into the forest boded poorly. He knew it was a bad idea, but Hawke wanted so badly to go on her adventure with Piper, and he only wanted to make Hawke as happy as she made him.

But now this had happened, and she wasn’t waking up. What if – what would he do if…?

His vision blurred with tears, and he impatiently wiped them away. He dampened the cloth once more and wrung it out, and by the time Hawke’s face was clean, his own cheeks were wet and stiff with salt.

He took a deep breath to ease the ache in his throat, then rinsed the cloth again and began cleaning her neck. He cradled her nape carefully as he wiped the streaks of sweat from her throat and her collarbones, and the longer he spent cleaning the perfect column of her neck, the more the contrast between this moment and the other moments they’d spent on this bed began to torture him. The thought of Hawke stretched out beneath him with his hand cradling her neck just so, her eyes closed like they were now, but her lips parted in rapture as they moved together in perfect time…

A fresh rush of tears burned his eyes. He dropped the cloth in the basin and stroked her face. “Hawke, open your eyes. You must open your eyes.”

She didn’t move. Her eyelids remained stubbornly shut, her dusky eyelashes dark and still against her cheeks without even the telltale flutter of a dream.

He took her hand. “You said I didn’t need to be alone,” he whispered. “You promised you would stay with me. I… I need you to stay with me.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t speak or blink or squeeze his hand, and his breath left him on a sudden sob. He bowed his head and clenched his free hand in his hair, gripping the roots until they hurt, but even the pain that rippled across his scalp wasn’t enough to distract him from the horrible lung-crushing ache in his chest.

He needed her. He didn’t know quite when it had happened, but at some point in the last few months, Hawke had twined herself so thoroughly in every part of his life that he couldn’t imagine living without her anymore. She was everywhere and in everything, in his job as the master-at-arms and in his bed, in his arms and his closely guarded heart, and he couldn’t remember what his life was like before she’d come bursting into it.

If she didn’t wake up, Fenris would be alone again. But it wouldn’t be like before, because now he would know what he was missing. He would know what it felt like to have someone see him, to truly see even the ugliest parts of him and to want him anyway. He knew what it was like to have someone light up his life like a flaming beacon calling forth the happiness he’d never believed he could have. If Hawke didn’t wake up, he would know what he was missing, and that knowledge would torture him more than anything Danarius or any other slaver had ever done.

He lifted his head. “Rynne,” he rasped. “Don’t leave me. I am begging you.”

She didn’t reply. Her chest rose and fell very slowly with her breaths, and Fenris just held her hand and stared at her in rising misery.

“Can I come in?” Anders said quietly.

Fenris flinched, then hastily wiped his face and shot Anders a glare. “Are you incapable of knocking?”

Anders huffed. “Sorry for announcing my presence in the usual manner,” he muttered. He sidled into the room with a tray of ominous-looking items: two glass bottles of clear liquid, a strip of cloth, a looped length of narrow rubber tubing, and something that looked like a slender and very sharp silver quill without the feather.

Fenris frowned. “What is all of that?”

“This is boiled water with a special mixture of salts,” Anders said. “It’s going to keep her hydrated. And no, I’m not going to try and feed it to her.”

“Saltwater?” Fenris said archly. “You think saltwater is going to keep her alive?”

“I know saltwater is going to keep her alive,” Anders retorted. “Now move, will you? I need her arm.”

“Why?” Fenris asked.

“Because I’m going to inject the saltwater directly into her blood.”

Fenris gaped at him in horror. “You’re going to do what?”

He sighed loudly. “Fenris, it’s safe. I have done this at least a dozen times for various members of the crew. Sutherland and Shayle and Marie all had fluids injected today, and they’re fine.” He raised his eyebrows. “In fact, you should go to the infirmary and see how–”

“I am not leaving,” Fenris said loudly.

“Worth a try,” Anders muttered. In a louder voice he said, “Either way, you need to move, or you can explain to Piper how your stubbornness killed the assistant doctor on the Lady Luck.”

Fenris scowled at him, but finally moved aside.

“Thank you,” Anders said, slightly acidly. He picked up the larger bottle of fluid and removed the cork. He affixed the rubber tubing to the mouth of the bottle, then looked around vaguely. “Have you got any rope here?”

“What for?” Fenris said suspiciously. Anders wasn’t going to tie Hawke down, was he? If he even suggested tying her down…

“To tie the intravenous fluids to that wall sconce,” Anders said.

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “The intra…?”

“Fenris, just find some rope, will you?” Anders snapped. “Maker’s breath, are you going to be like this all night? Let me know now, and I’ll fetch some cotton balls to plug my ears.”

Fenris shot him a glare, but found some rope and handed it to Anders. Anders quickly formed a makeshift harness for the bottle, then hung it upside-down from the wall sconce so the tubing was hanging down.

He held out the tubing to Fenris. “Take this. Pinch the end, or the fluid will leak out.”

Fenris did as he was told. He watched warily as Anders sat on the stool beside the bed and wiped the back of Hawke’s wrist with the contents of the smaller bottle – hard rum, if the heady vapours were anything to go by. He wiped his own hands with the rum as well, then wiped the silver quill nib.

Then he took Hawke’s hand and lowered the sharpened tip of the nib toward the back of her wrist.

“Stop!” Fenris blurted. “What are you doing?”

“I’m inserting the needle into her vein,” Anders said. “Then I’ll attach the tube to the needle, and the fluids will go into her blood.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never seen you do this. How did you learn to do this?”

“A medical tome from Tevinter, as it so happens,” Anders replied. “It’s very modern medicine. Not many doctors–”

“Tevinter?” Fenris interrupted. “They likely gained that knowledge through the torture of slaves! You would benefit from the torture of slaves?”

Anders gave him a hard look. “Are you going to shout at me, or are you going to let me save Hawke’s life?”

Fenris glared venomously at him, then waved bad-temperedly at Hawke’s arm. Anders turned back to Hawke and swiftly slid the tip of the needle into the back of her hand near her wrist.

Fenris winced, but he gave the rubber tube to Anders when he reached for it. Anders swiftly attached the tube to the needle, then jerked his chin at the tray. “Hand me that strip of cloth.”

Fenris silently handed him the cloth. Anders tied the needle flush to her wrist to keep it in place, then sat back with a sigh. “All right. Now I’ll just watch her for a bit to make sure she doesn’t have an adverse reaction to the treatment.”

“Adverse reaction?” Fenris said in horror. “You said you’d done this a dozen times! You said this would save–”

“Fenris, stop this!” Anders complained. “There’s a risk involved in any medical treatment! Elfroot salve holds a risk if someone is allergic. Even those stitches that Hawke sewed into your skin could become infected.” He gave Fenris a pointed look. “Every treatment holds an element of risk. You have to accept it if you want the problem to get better.”

Fenris closed his mouth and glared at Anders. This talk about risks, the benefits and payoffs of taking risks… Anders might be talking about medicine, but his words were uncannily like something that Hawke would say.

A horrible pang of longing swelled in his chest, and he rubbed his face roughly to ward it off. Then Anders’s sardonic voice pierced his thoughts. “You know, you might want to try being nicer to the man who’s keeping your girlfriend alive.”

Fenris lowered his hands and glared at him. “Is that a threat, doctor?”

“No!” Anders exclaimed. “It’s a reasonable suggestion. Don’t be so bloody touchy. Maker only knows what she sees in you.” He rose from the stool and waved impatiently at it. “Just sit down, all right? You look like you’re about to fall over. Looking at you is making me tired.”

Fenris shot him a resentful look, but he sat in the stool that Anders had vacated. He reached for Hawke’s hand, then stopped himself; the evil-looking needle and tube protruding from her skin made his stomach roil.

“You can hold her hand,” Anders said in a gentler tone. “Just don’t touch the equipment.”

Fenris gingerly took her hand. He stared breathlessly at her face, waiting and hoping for her eyelids to flutter or her lips to part on a sleepy murmur…

He waited and watched her face, but she didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell in time with her slow breaths, but she was otherwise completely still.

Behind him, Anders slowly took a seat on the chest where Fenris kept his clothes. Fenris ignored him and continued to watch Hawke’s sleeping face.

“This won’t wake her up, you know,” Anders said quietly. “It’s just to keep her from dehydrating.”

“And from starving,” Fenris said. “Right?”

Anders hesitated for a moment. “Not… no, it won’t stop her from starving.”

Fenris whipped around in alarm. “What do you – then what’s the point?”

“You die sooner of dehydration than starvation,” Anders said. “This gives her more time.”

“How much more time?”

Anders paused again, and Fenris scowled at him. “How much?”

He made a little face. “It’s hard to say exactly. Seven to ten days, maybe.”

“You’re not sure?” Fenris demanded. “How are you not sure?”

“Intravenous fluids are a new science,” Anders said. He shot Fenris a baleful look. “I’m one of the few doctors outside of Tevinter who performs it, you know. You should be grateful.”

Fenris glared at him for a moment longer, then turned back to Hawke. “Vishante kaffas,” he muttered.

They sat in a rancorous silence for a moment. Then Anders spoke again. “As I was saying, this won’t wake her up. You should go get something to eat. You won’t do her any good just sitting here.”

“I am not leaving her side,” Fenris insisted.

Anders tsked. “Do you think she’d want you to starve?”

“Don’t talk to me about what Hawke wants,” Fenris snapped. “You don’t know what she wants.”

Anders scoffed. “Oh, of course. Because you’re the only one who knows her, right? Wrong. Everyone on the ship knows her. She’s friends with everyone.” He jerked his head at the door. “Everyone out there is worried about her, you know. And about you.”

“Me?” Fenris said in surprise.

Anders grunted. “Half of them heard your little diatribe at the captain. They’re worried about how you’re doing since Hawke was, er, attacked. Seriously, you should go to the galley. Have a drink and something to eat with the others. They’ll want to know you’re okay.”

Fenris stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Hawke again. “I don’t need their pity. Or yours.”

“Nobody pities you, you miserable grouch,” Anders said in exasperation. “They respect you as the master-at-arms. And they like you for some weird reason.” He shot Fenris a sardonic look. “Most people enjoy having their friends around when someone they love is sick.”

Fenris curled his lip. “That hasn’t been my experience,” he muttered.

“What part?” Anders said.

Fenris shrugged irritably. “Any of it. Having… company when you’re ill. I was left alone to heal when I was ill.”

“Your parents left you alone when you were sick?” Anders said.

“My parents are dead,” Fenris said harshly. “They died when… when I was young.” He shot Anders a scathing look. “I spent most of my life as a slave in Minrathous. I never had the luxury of companionship when I was ill.”

Anders raised his eyebrows, then folded his arms. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Fenris frowned. “What?”

“That you were a slave in Minrathous before Piper freed you from that slave ship. You never talk about yourself,” Anders said. “No one knows anything about your life before you joined the crew.” He gave Fenris a careful look. “Actually, this is the most you’ve ever said about your life before the Lady Luck.”

Fenris eyed him mistrustfully. “Why do you want to know about my life before the Lady Luck?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Maker’s mercy, you’re so suspicious. It’s hardly unusual to know things about the people you share a ship with.”

Fenris scowled at him, then turned to face Hawke again. He ran his thumb slowly over the back of her hand and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and for a while, he and Anders were silent.

“I was taken from the alienage when I was twelve,” Fenris finally said. “I was forced to become a fighter. A personal bodyguard for a wealthy merchant.”

Anders was quiet for a moment. “What about before that?”

He shrugged and traced Hawke’s knuckles with his thumb. “Before that… I suppose my life was better. It is difficult to remember when what came after was…when it made such an impression.”

Anders hummed a soft acknowledgement. “And the, er… tattoos?”

Fenris clenched his jaw for a moment before replying. “They are lyrium and ink. Markings meant to strengthen me and to intimidate.” He shot Anders a pointed look. “A medical experiment, forced on me by Tevinter doctors. A failed one, I should add.”

Anders’s face fell into a look of unguarded surprise. “Oh. Well, now it makes sense.”

Fenris pursed his lips, then turned back to Hawke.

Anders shifted slightly on the chest of clothes. “You could have said something earlier,” he said. “It would have made both our lives easier if I knew.”

Fenris shot him a sharp look. “Forgive me for not sharing my life story with you, a stranger, in order to ease your discomfort.”

“I’m trying to be nice, you ass,” Anders said loudly. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry you had a hard time of it. If it makes you feel any better, my life wasn’t exactly sunshine and daisies before I joined the Lady Luck.” He shot Fenris a resentful look. “Not that you would know anything about that either.”

Fenris frowned. It was true; Fenris knew very little of Anders, aside from the fact that he was from somewhere in Ferelden and he was unnervingly lax in his medical practices.

He shrugged. “You have no reason to be sorry. Not to me, at least.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anders said sarcastically. “I was incredibly choked up that I might not have your forgiveness for something I didn’t do.”

Fenris glared at him. “You are an ass.”

Anders huffed. “We have something in common after all, then.”

There was another tense and loaded pause. Fenris pointedly turned away and ran his thumb over a tiny birthmark on the back of Hawke’s hand.

“What happened out there?” Anders asked quietly. “Out in the forest?”

Fenris took a deep breath. “We found an ancient elven temple,” he said. “It turns out that Fen’Harel is real. That is what – well, Merrill thinks that’s what attacked Hawke and the other humans. A curse laid by the Dread Wolf of elven legend.”

Anders raised his eyebrows. “That’s… no. That’s ludicrous.”

“I would agree if I hadn’t witnessed it myself,” Fenris said flatly.

Anders released a heavy sigh. “How are we supposed to undo an elven curse?”

“We were hoping you might undo this and wake her up,” Fenris said tensely.

Anders let out a mirthless little laugh. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified that you thought I could.”

Fenris didn’t reply. He was loathe to admit it, but he really had been hoping that Anders’s medical training would bring Hawke out of this intractable sleep. Knowing now that the best they could hope for was to keep her alive for more than a week, alive but trapped in the silent and unmoving shell of her body…

His eyes were prickling again. He hunched his shoulders self-consciously and blinked hard.

Anders shifted on the chest again. “Look, if anyone will undo this, it’s Piper,” he said. “You know her: she’s like a mabari with a bone. She won’t let this go until Hawke and the others are awake.”

Fenris nodded silently. His throat was swollen, and he couldn’t risk opening his mouth right now for fear of what might come out.

Anders was quiet for a moment longer. Then he stood up. “No adverse reaction,” he said. “Hawke is doing fine. I’ll get you a biscuit or something. You really should eat.” He made his way toward the door.

Fenris subtly cleared his throat. “You have my thanks,” he said gruffly.

Anders paused by the door and eyed him for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he said. Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Fenris drew a deep breath, then released it in a sigh and bowed his head. Venhedis fasta vass, he truly was exhausted. His entire body was aching, and his stomach was cramping from hunger in a way that it hadn’t done since before he’d joined the Lady Luck.

He slowly rose from the stool and trudged around to the other side of the bed. Carefully, so as not to disturb Hawke, he crawled onto the bed beside her.

Then he remembered that no amount of jostling was going to disturb her from the cursed sleep that had taken her.

The lump in his throat swelled once more, and he swallowed hard to force it down as he stretched out beside her. He lay still for a moment, his eyes tracing over the curves and lines of her sleeping face, but the longer he lay beside her, the more the ache in his chest seemed to swell.

This was so unnatural – lying beside her without touching her. If she was awake, she would never permit the lack of touch. Hawke was constantly touching him when she was awake or asleep, her hands stroking his arms and her fingers on his neck and her naked chest pressed to his back when they slept, and the easy intimacy of her touch had somehow sunk so deeply into his everyday routine that he could practically feel the chill that her missing touch had left behind.

Carefully so as not to jostle the needle and tubing in her arm, Fenris shifted closer to her and slid his arm around her waist. He tucked himself as closely against her side as he could without disturbing her arm, then inhaled the scent of her hair.

She smelled like dirt and rain and the sweat that he’d wiped away from her beloved face, but underneath the rougher scents of their ordeal was her scent: the warm smell of sandalwood that always seemed to linger faintly in her hair and skin, like some sort of permanent perfume.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but to no avail; the tears were already coming, trickling along his temple to drip onto his folded arm. He took a breath to try and calm himself, but instead he gasped out a sob.

I love you, he thought. Please wake up. He needed Hawke to wake up. If she didn’t wake, nothing would ever be right again.

He pressed his lips to her hair. “Hawke,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

****************************

“Fenris, wake up.”

His eyes snapped open at the first syllable of his name. He sat up suddenly, already reaching for his dagger before he could even register the time of day. But the intruder spoke before he could pull out the weapon.

“Easy, Fen. It’s just me.”

“Piper?” he croaked. He released the handle of his dagger and rubbed his face.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Sorry to wake you. It’s urgent.”

“What?” he said blearily. Then he belatedly remembered what had happened yesterday. The temple, the orb, the insidious fog that sank into Hawke’s open mouth–

He frantically looked down at her, torn between hope and terror. Was it possible she’d woken…? But no, she was still silent and unmoving but for the rise and fall of her ribs.

He slumped in disappointment. The needle and rubber tube were removed from her hand, however, and the fluid equipment was tidily stacked on top of the chest where Fenris kept his clothes, so he decided to take this as a sign that she didn’t need more fluids for now.

He looked at Piper, who was sitting on the stool near Hawke’s head. “What is it?” he said.

“I have to go back to the temple,” she said.

He frowned as she went on. “Merrill translated more of the rubbings. The curse in the orb… apparently it’s some kind of transference thing. It stays dormant in the orb until someone touches it – an elf, I mean – and then it transfers to that person and takes out any humans in the area until you put it back.”

He frowned more deeply. “Put it back…?” Suddenly he realized something. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Those dead men outside the temple. A previous iteration of the curse?”

She nodded. “We’re thinking the last time the curse was active was when that qunari-Tevinter treaty was signed. The one that Merrill found with no date? The elf that touched it was probably a slave, unfortunately. Someone probably forced them to return the curse to the orb, and then they made that treaty to keep any humans out of the danger zone, including the human converts among the qunari.”

“So if you put back the curse, Hawke will be cured?” he said hopefully.

She hesitated just long enough to drop his hopes once more. “Not… no,” she said apologetically. “If I just put the curse back, Merrill and Cole think that the curse won’t strike anyone else, but it also won’t be lifted from Rynne or the others.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “But then–”

“We’re going to figure something else out,” Piper interrupted. “We’ll find a way to break the curse when we get back to the temple.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m going to get her back, Fen. I mean it.”

He swallowed hard. “I know you do,” he said. But just because she meant it didn’t mean it was possible.

She frowned. “You believe me, right?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. His life had held too many disappointments for him to believe the best of anything, especially since the best thing in his life had been stolen from him by some ineffable evil fog. But Piper was determined, and expressing his doubts would only make her more belligerent.

He nodded silently, but his response didn’t seem to satisfy her. She sat back on the stool and folded her arms. “I’m going to get her back,” she said confidently. “I’ll outwit the Dread Wolf, you’ll see. That’ll make for a good tavern story. Watch me get free drinks at the Hanged Man next time we go to Rialto.”

“Better yet, you’ll finally have a story to tell at the Hanged Man that’s true,” he retorted.

She snorted with laughter. “Fuck you too, Fen.”

He gave her a feeble smile, then shifted into a cross-legged position on the bed. Hawke’s head was tilted slightly to the side, and Fenris carefully repositioned her head on the pillow.

Piper cleared her throat. “Listen, I, um… I swear I didn’t think there really was a Fen’Harel.”

He shrugged wearily. “I didn’t either. But that voice we were hearing was undeniably ominous. Even you must admit that.” He cut her a sharp look. “I know you had your doubts about the temple and that orb. Why did you touch it?”

She sighed and looked away, and they were both silent for a moment. Then she turned back to him with a determined scowl. “I’m the captain, okay? I’m the captain of the Lady Luck. It’s my job to look after you bunch of salty assholes and make sure everyone’s happy. I just… wanted to…” She shrugged irritably. “I didn’t want it to be for nothing.”

He eyed her sternly. “You look after the crew well enough by listening to your instincts. You should listen to them next time.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I think.”

They fell silent again, and Fenris gazed sadly at Hawke’s beautiful unconscious face. Then Piper broke the silence again. “Cole was right, you know. This wasn’t your fault.”

He clenched his jaw before replying. “I should have protected her.”

Piper scoffed softly. “There was no way to protect her from that fucking fog shit.”

“There was,” he retorted. “We should have stayed here on the ship.”

Piper gave him a skeptical look. “So what, you’re going to keep Rynne locked away on the Lady Luck just in case anything bad ever happens to her?”

He glared at her. “I won’t be doing anything with Rynne unless she wakes up.”

“She will,” Piper said fiercely. “I’ll make sure of it. And when she does, she’s going to be pissed if you try to be all ‘we’re staying on the ship forever’ with her. No one ever has any fun by just staying put.”

He scowled and hunched his shoulders. An awkward moment later, Piper tapped her palms on her knees. “Okay, well. Now that I’m done arguing with your stubborn ass…” She smoothed a hand over the braids at her temple before rising from the stool.

Fenris slid off of the bed as well. He suddenly felt strange for the informality of sitting on his bed while Piper was here. “When are you going back to the forest?” he asked.

“Now,” she said, to his mild surprise. “I just wanted to, um, check in on Rynne first.”

He met her hazel eyes in silence. Her arms were folded, and there was something about her defensive posture that made him realize why she was really here.

She was trying to apologize.

He tugged his ear. “I’m not… I am remaining here with Hawke. You are aware–”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t even going to ask. If it was Cullen who got hit, I…” She trailed off, then waved her hand vaguely. “Seriously, don’t even think about it. You’re right where you should be.”

He nodded, and they stood there in an increasingly awkward silence.

Finally he spoke. “There is a saying in Tevinter: na via lerno victoria.”

She cocked her head. “What’s that mean?”

“‘Only the living know glory’,” he said. “Be careful, Captain.” He extended his hand to her.

Piper eyed him silently for a moment. Then she hugged him.

He froze, startled by the hold of her wiry arms and the ticklish cloud of her hair in his face. A second later, before he could speak or move or hug her back, she released him and gently punched his shoulder, then left his cabin without looking back.

He slowly made his way over to the stool and sat down, then noticed the plate that someone – likely Anders – had placed on the bedside table. It held a hardtack biscuit, an orange, and a generous slice of salted beef.

His stomach clenched eagerly at the sight. He picked up the orange and dug his nails into the peel, and when the heady citrus scent burst from the peeled skin, he held the fruit over Hawke’s nose.

“It is your favourite,” he said softly. “Can you smell it? I would share it with you if you woke.”

She didn’t wake. Fenris gazed longingly at her, then began to listlessly eat the fruit.

Piper will fix this, he told himself. It was a hope more than a plan and he knew it, but he had no choice now but to cling to it and to pray that Piper would bring Hawke back to him.

He swallowed the last segment of orange along with the lump of misery in his throat, then went on to eat the dried meat. He would need to regain his strength in case Piper’s plan failed.

If Piper’s plan failed, Fenris would be returning to the elven temple. And he would burn that fucking temple down until it was nothing more than ash.

#I'M KIND OF DRUNK WHILE POSTING THIS #LET ME KNOW IF THERE ARE ERRORS IN IT PLS THANKS #where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenrynne #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/femhawke #piper lavellan #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

25 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 5 years

Text

Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Dreams

Welcome to Chapter 26 of my and @schoute’s pirate AU, Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me! In which there are TWO PIECES OF ART BECAUSE SCHOUTE SPOILS US.

It’s a longer one (>10k words), so only the first part is here. Read the rest on AO3, picking up from Piper’s POV!

********************

- RYNNE -

One by one, the buttons on Lady Marielle’s extravagant bustier came undone. She breathed more easily with every loose button, and by the time the bustier fell in a rumpled pile to the floor, all she could say were three simple words: “Take me, Donnen.”

Rynne breathlessly flipped to the next page of Varric’s manuscript, then froze as Fenris shifted beside her in the bed. He was fast asleep still, but there was a frown puckering his brow, and Rynne remained stock-still until his handsome face relaxed.

When he was still and peaceful once more, she delicately brushed a strand of snowy-white hair from his forehead. He was sleeping flat on his belly, and Rynne solicitously pulled the sheet up to cover his bare back before returning her attention to the pile of parchment in her lap.

She was fortunate that Varric had still agreed to let her read his pages even though she’d declined his generous offer yesterday. But between her regular morning lessons with Anders and the blissful afternoon she’d spent in Fenris’s cabin alternating between sparring and sex, the current hour – which was very late indeed – was the first moment she’d found to finally sit down with Varric’s unpublished book.

Incidentally, this was also the first time in three nights together that Rynne had actually witnessed Fenris sleeping. It seemed that he was both an early riser and a late sleeper; Rynne always seemed to fall asleep before him and to wake after he’d already had a chance to wash and dress. But it appeared that she’d finally managed to wear him out: for once he’d fallen asleep before her, leaving her with an opportunity to read some of Varric’s book.

Her greedy eyes returned to the top of the page, and as she read, her belly started to tingle with anticipation.

Donnen’s eyes were wide and admiring as they scanned Marielle’s bare bosom. She waited for him to move, but the longer she waited, the more impatient she grew.

The wait was too long, and her desires were too strong to be denied. She took a bold step forward and grasped Donnen’s immaculate coat. “Donnen, I need you to

Fenris jerked and grunted, and Rynne twitched in surprise at his sudden movement. She looked at him, then frowned worriedly; his face was twisted into a pained-looking grimace.

He inhaled sharply through his nose and thrashed his head, then grunted once more, and Rynne carefully shifted Varric’s pages off of her lap. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Fenris’s back. “Fenris–?”

He snapped awake and recoiled from her, and Rynne’s heart seized in her chest. His lips were twisted into a sneer, but he was wild-eyed with panic, and that panic was focused on her.

She reached for him. “Fenris, it’s all right–”

He flinched and shoved himself away from her. “Stay back,” he barked. “Keep your hands off of me.”

She hastily withdrew her hand. Her heart was pounding a panicked pulse in her throat. She could tell by the unfocused look in his eyes that he was still half-asleep, but she wasn’t sure how to rouse him fully without alarming him further.

She swallowed hard to try and calm her own distress. “Fenris,” she said loudly. “Wake up.”

He flinched again and blinked, and Rynne slowly released her breath as the twisted rage in his expression faded into surprise. “Hawke?” he croaked.

“It’s just me,” she said softly. “Are you all right?” Her heart was still pounding, making her feel slightly dizzy. She twisted her fingers together in her lap to keep them to herself; she wanted so badly to reach for him again and to settle close to him, both for her own comfort and his, but she was afraid to touch him against his will.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m… I’m fine.” He stared at her for a moment longer, then shifted slowly onto his back and settled into his pillow.

She eyed him apprehensively. His face was turned away from her, but the longer she watched him, the more his frown softened into a sad sort of resignation.

She gingerly settled onto her side facing him. “Do you often have nightmares?”

His jaw tightened for a moment before he replied. “Sometimes,” he said quietly. “But it’s been some time since I was plagued by them.”

“How long?” she asked softly. “Do you remember?”

He took a deep breath, and Rynne waited quietly until he spoke again. “When I first joined the Lady Luck,” he said. “I couldn’t… the crew’s quarters were…” He shook his head slightly. “It was a poor fit. I was a disturbance. Piper gave me this room within a week.”

A painful surge of tenderness burned the back of her eyes. She shifted closer, wishing more than ever that she could press herself against him, but before she could speak, he turned his head and met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Sorry for what?”

“For frightening you,” he said. “I did not want to scare you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t scare me. I was worried about you. You seemed… whatever you were dreaming about must have been, er, not… not good.” She trailed off lamely; as she was speaking, his expression seemed to close.

He turned to face the ceiling once more. “You don’t need to pity me, Hawke. I do not need it.”

She gazed at him painfully. He often said this when she was trying to offer him some sort of compassion for what he’d been through, but she knew him well enough by now to know what he was really thinking.

It wasn’t just that Fenris didn’t want her sympathy. He also didn’t feel that he deserved it.

“I don’t pity you, you handsome fool,” she said. “I admire you. I think you’re strong and brave. And don’t scoff at me,” she added when he shot her an annoyed look. “That’s what I think, and you can’t change my mind.”

Then something occurred to her. He’d said the nightmares were worse when he first joined the ship, and that Piper had given him this room for himself. If he’d needed this private space to feel comfortable…

A painful surge of guilt filled her throat. “Oh Maker,” she breathed. “Maybe that’s why.”

“Why what?” he said.

“Why you’re having nightmares,” she said sadly. “Maybe it’s because I’m here.”

He frowned. “Hawke–”

“You’re not used to sharing your sleeping space with anyone else, are you?”

His eyebrows rose, and his expression was so unguarded that Rynne knew she must be correct.

Fenris licked his lips. “I… Are you?” he asked.

“I kind of am, actually,” she said. “Bethany and I often shared a bed, especially when we were younger. Mother tried to stop us; she said we had our own rooms and we ought to use them. But Bethany often had nightmares when she was little. If I petted her hair, she would eventually fall back asleep.” Even once Rynne and Bethany had grown up, however, they continued to have the occasional sleepover whenever Rynne could cajole her obedient younger sister to break their mother’s stupid rules. The nighttime tradition had continued right up until Bethany got sick.

The night that the scarlet fever had finally stolen Bethany’s last laboured breath, Rynne had gone to Carver’s bedroom where he was staying during his compassionate leave from the navy. And during the few nights that Carver was home, he had actually allowed her to share his bed – with complaints at first, of course, but he’d allowed it.

She shunted the painful memories aside and looked at Fenris. He was frowning still, but he looked troubled rather than angry.

“You’re used to sleeping alone,” she said softly.

He glanced at her, then sighed. “Yes,” he admitted. “I had a solitary room in Danarius’s mansion.”

“You did?” she said in surprise. Somehow she’d imagined Tevinter slaves being forced to share cramped quarters. It seemed oddly luxurious that Fenris had his own bedroom. Even the Hawke family’s paid servants had to share rooms.

He shot her a sharp look. “Do not mistake it for a boon. It was a glorified cage for his favourite pet.”

She steadily returned his gaze. “I would never mistake anything that asshole did to you for a boon,” she said quietly.

His expression softened. “I know. I’m… I’m sorry, Hawke.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I didn’t mean that.”

She nodded and picked idly at the mattress. She didn’t want to say her next words, but for Fenris’s sake, she felt like she had to.

She swallowed hard, then forced herself to speak in a pleasant tone. “Maybe I should go back to the crew’s quarters at night, then,” she said. “That way you can get some sleep before I come bursting back into your life and wearing you out.” She wrestled her face into a suggestive smile.

His gaze darted to her face for a split second, then returned to the ceiling. “Is that what you want?” he said.

His voice was even, and Rynne’s aching heart squeezed. How long was it going to take before he understood that all she wanted was him?

She shifted a bit closer to him on the bed. “Of course it’s not what I want,” she said earnestly. “But I also don’t want to make you…”

She trailed off. Something else had just occurred to her – something that made her heart seize with guilt.

She looked at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t sleep the past couple of nights while I was here, did you?”

His jaw tightened again. “Not… particularly,” he muttered.

She stared at him in a stricken silence. That was why he was always awake before and after her. It wasn’t because he was an early riser who didn’t need much sleep. It was because he hadn’t really slept at all.

Her chest was hurting – both for him and for herself. She forced herself to inhale. “Fenris, why… why didn’t you say anythi–”

“I wanted it to stop on its own, all right?” he snapped. “I didn’t want – I had hoped–” He broke off and took a deep breath, then exhaled sharply. “I didn’t want these cursed dreams to spoil anything.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “These – those damned slavers. They spoil everything they ever touch. I wanted this to remain unspoiled by all of that.” He gestured angrily between himself and her.

Unable to stand the distance between them, Rynne reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers were tense and cold, and Rynne pressed his knuckles to her lips before cradling his hand close to her chest. “Nothing is spoiled, Fenris,” she said.

“I’m–” He broke off abruptly and looked up at the ceiling once more.

Her heart felt like it was breaking, but she forced herself to breathe evenly. “They didn’t ruin you,” she insisted. “There’s nothing spoiled about you.”

Fenris turned his face away from her and pressed his lips together, but Rynne refused to let him hide away. She shuffled close and pressed herself firmly against him, curling her arm around his shoulders and tucking her face against his hair.

She kissed his temple. “You’re not spoiled, all right?” she murmured. “You’re selfless and smart, you’re a fantastic teacher, you’re sarcastic and funny when the mood strikes–”

“I’m unkind,” he said suddenly. “I was unkind to you at first. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You’ve more than made up for it,” she assured him.

He shook his head, even as his hand rose to squeeze her arm. “I… I can’t read,” he said.

“Who fucking cares if you can’t read?” she exclaimed. “You’re still the second smartest man I know. After Varric, of course.” She drew back and eyed him curiously. “Do you want to learn to read?”

He shrugged silently, but he was nibbling the inside of his cheek, and Rynne watched him tenderly for a moment before speaking again. “I’ll teach you to read if you want,” she said. She kissed his forehead again. “Honestly, Fenris, anything you want, all you have to do is ask.”

He squeezed her arm and didn’t reply, but his gaze darted down to Varric’s manuscript, which was sitting at the foot of the bed in a slightly untidy pile. Rynne’s belly flipped with excitement. Would he actually let her teach him to read? Maybe allow her to return the favour for all the careful and patient weapons training he’d done with her over the past two months?

He was silent for a moment. Then he gestured vaguely at the manuscript. “What was that you were reading?”

She fought back a giddy smile. “Oh, it’s Varric’s next novel,” she said casually. “He finally started writing a sequel to Swords and Shields. I suspect he’s writing it just to get me off his back.” She snickered.

Fenris huffed in amusement and ran his fingers idly along her arm. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes,” she said brightly. “Very much. I was just about to read the scene where the main character and his leading lady make love. Or, well, I hope they do. I just started reading the bit where he’s getting her naked.” She wiggled her eyebrows salaciously.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I see,” he said slowly.

She grinned at his skeptical tone, then sat up and gave him a wheedling look. “Can I read some of it to you? Maybe you’ll get a taste for romance novels yourself.”

He scoffed. “I suppose. If you insist.”

She eagerly sat up and pulled the manuscript close. A few moments later, she and Fenris were curled together against the head of the bed, and Rynne reverently smoothed her fingers over Varric’s pages before turning to look at Fenris.

“All right,” she said cheerfully. “All you’ve really missed is that the Lady Marielle is now naked from the waist up, and Donnen is staring at her.”

Fenris sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Rynne grinned, then traced the lines with her finger as she read out loud. “Donnen’s eyes were wide and admiring as they scanned Marielle’s bare bosom. She waited for him to move, but the longer she waited, the more impatient she grew.”

Fenris snorted softly. “This Lady Marielle’s attitude sounds familiar.”

Rynne laughed and playfully pinched his earlobe. “You can’t fault her. She’s just a girl who knows exactly what she wants.” She turned back to the book and wiggled her toes excitedly before going on. “The wait was too long, and her desires were too strong to be denied. She took a bold step forward and grasped Donnen’s immaculate coat. ‘Donnen, I need you to–’”

“Hawke,” Fenris said suddenly.

“Yes?” she said distractedly. She turned to look at him, and her heart did a little flip. The expression on his handsome face was so serious.

“Stay here. Please,” he said quietly. “Don’t go back to the crew quarters.”

Her chest squeezed with a nearly-unbearable rush of fondness. She reached up and gently stroked his chin with her thumb. “I won’t,” she promised. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

He exhaled slowly, then shifted closer and pressed his forehead to hers. “That is all I want,” he whispered.

A burn of happiness lit the back of her eyes. She took shaky little inhale and cradled his neck in her palm. Fenris gently nuzzled her nose, and Rynne giddily held her breath until he pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss.

She ran her palm along his bare chest and returned his kiss with every scrap of enthusiasm she could muster. A moment later, he haphazardly shifted the manuscript off of her lap before pulling her beneath his body, and for a wonderful, peaceful moment, Rynne savoured the plushness of his lips and the firm stroke of his hand as it slid along the length of her leg from her ankle to her knee and up to her hip.

She gently nipped his lower lip and enjoyed the sound of his breath catching in his throat. Then his hand was sliding beneath her loose shirt and up to trace her ribs.

His fingers played across her puckered nipple, and Rynne broke their kiss with a fitful gasp. “Don’t you want to see what the Lady Marielle is going to do next?” she breathed.

He smiled at her – that beautiful, genuine smile that never failed to steal her breath. “I’m more interested in finding out what you will do next,” he whispered.

She beamed at him and twined her legs around his waist. A moment later, she was panting for breath as he rocked himself against her, smoothing his hardness through her softer flesh, and when she moaned with longing, he captured the sound with his heated tongue and groaned into her mouth in kind.

Fenris cradled her neck in his palm and slowly slid inside of her, and Rynne exhaled her pleasure into his parted lips. If he wanted her to stay here in his quarters with him, that’s exactly what she would do. If he wanted her to teach him to read, that’s precisely what she would do. She would give him anything he wanted, because he’d given her everything.

He gave her his affection and his protection and his intelligent words. He gave her bliss with the firmness of his hands and his cock and his gorgeous sculpted lips. Fenris gave her everything she had ever thought to want, and as they shifted and breathed together in the coziness of his plain cotton sheets, Rynne’s delirious thoughts distilled to one simple idea: she loved Fenris, and she would give him whatever he needed to be happy.

Read the rest on AO3 from Piper’s POV!

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #fenris #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullavellan #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #piperford #pikapeppa writes #schoute draws #pikascout

92 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Cullavellan & FenHawke pirate AU: Voice

Chapter 30 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3! Just the first section here; Read the whole thing on AO3 instead.

In which I resolve those cliffhangers from yesterday’s chapter. HA.

Wonderful art as always by our talented mastermind @schoute!! Fun fact: this was the first piece of FenRynne pirate art I requested, and I’m thrilled to finally use it in the fiiiic!

- CULLEN -

Piper ran straight at the nearest pirate with an animalistic howl, and Cullen took a split second to be stunned by her chaotic attack before following her into the fray. Two other men were about to attack Piper while she was occupied with her foe, and Cullen parried one man’s blow before kicking the other in the hip, sending him sprawling before swinging back around to cut down the first man with a slash across the belly.

As Cullen continued to fight, he tried to get a swift headcount of their enemies. There seemed to be… seven of them alive now, perhaps eight. Unfavourable odds, certainly, but it could be worse. Piper was jabbing and snarling at her foe like a rabid wildcat, and it was obvious to Cullen that the vehemency of her attack was throwing him off, particularly given her diminutive size. Fifteen paces away, Fenris was handling himself with the same silent and brutal efficiency that he’d displayed during sparring sessions on the deck: in the two seconds that Cullen spent watching him, he trapped a man against a tree with one arm to his neck, headbutted him, then stabbed him through the gut before spinning to block a blow from another foe who was just behind.

He’s all right, Cullen thought, and he turned back to assist Piper instead. Her enemy was dead, and she was engaging two others with a boldness that was both admirable and terribly worrying, given that both men were almost twice her weight.

One of the men reached for his pistol. Cullen rushed him and slashed at his arm, causing the man to dodge away with a cry of shock. He tried to aim his pistol, but Cullen grabbed his outstretched arm and pulled him close, then elbowed him in the face before slicing him open from throat to hip.

He glanced at Piper once more, and his heart leapt into his throat. She was ten paces away, and she and her foe were on the ground, Piper scrabbling through the sand for her dropped épée while her sorely-injured foe shoved himself clumsily to his feet. As Cullen watched in horror, Piper’s enemy reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt.

Cullen bolted toward her. The pirate was dragging Piper back through the sand, and now he was hauling her to her feet and reaching for her throat with one large meaty hand…

“No!” Cullen bellowed.

The man twitched in startlement and loosened his grip on Piper, and she spun around and slammed the heel of her hand into his nose. Then Cullen plowed into him in a hard tackle.

They skidded painfully across the sand with Cullen on top. The pirate was gasping in agony from a wound in his side but still reaching for the dagger on his thigh–

Cullen grabbed the dagger and ruthlessly stabbed the blade into the side of the pirate’s throat. He pulled the dagger free, and the copious spurt of blood was accompanied by the man’s choking cry.

Cullen shoved himself to his feet and turned to Piper. She was glaring at the pirate, her chest heaving with angry breaths as she wiped some blood from her mouth. She spat a gobbet of bloody saliva on his body, then looked up at Cullen. “Come on,” she snapped. “Fen needs us.” She began running back toward Fenris, who was battling three men at once.

Cullen hastily caught up to her. “Are you all right?” he shouted.

“I’m fantastic,” she yelled back. “I bet I can kill more of them than you.”

Her smile was blood-tinged and angry and not at all reassuring. But before Cullen could say anything more, Piper looked past him at the treeline and slumped slightly. “Fenedhis lasa,” she complained. “More on the approach.”

Cullen looked, and his heart sank into his stomach; six more men were approaching, and there were the three that Fenris was fighting, and – oh Maker’s breath, was that shouting he was hearing from up on the ship itself?

Piper stopped in her tracks when she heard the sound, and as Cullen watched, she seemed to swell with rage. “They’re on my ship?” she shrieked.

Cullen reached for her hand. “Piper–”

She pulled her hand away and pointed her épée at the oncoming enemies. “We kill these assholes, then we destroy anyone who dared to set foot on the Lady Luck,” she snarled. Without another word, she bolted straight at the six incoming men, and Cullen ran after her.

She flew into the enemies’ midst like a tornado, screeching like a banshee and jabbing her épée in a flurry of chaotic strikes as she reached for her flintlock, and the element of surprise gave her a clear second of advantage: she shot one man in the face and another in the belly before swinging the flintlock into another man’s jaw. Then one of the men grabbed her around the waist.

She snarled and flailed wildly, inadvertently elbowing him in the face and forcing him to drop her, and Cullen swiftly joined her to control the fight, keeping the remaining men back as best he could. But the odds were clearly against them now. His muscles were starting to ache from every parry and thrust, and Piper was gasping for breath between curses, and Fenris was still fighting one of his three foes – a clear indication that he was getting fatigued himself.

Then three more men burst from the treeline.

Maker save us, Cullen thought in dismay. Then an arrow punched through one man’s chest.

Cullen looked up in surprise. Varric and Dorian were approaching, and Dorian was reaching for a second arrow from the quiver at his hip.

Varric felled Fenris’s final enemy with a crossbow bolt. Fenris looked up and nodded brusquely at Varric, then bolted toward the Lady Luck without a word.

Varric looked over at Cullen. “Need a hand, Curly?” he shouted.

“Absolutely,” Cullen called in relief. Within a few blessedly short minutes, most of their foes were dead with three making an escape back to the treeline, and no more were emerging from the forest.

Cullen straightened and blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you,” he said fervently to Dorian and Varric. “I was concerned for a moment.”

“I wasn’t,” Piper said belligerently. “We would have had them. You hear that, you rotten sack of swine?” she yelled at a nearby dying man. “You were dead the second you dared to come anywhere near the Lady Luck.” She bent down and opened his throat with her dagger, then rose to her feet and started striding back to the rope ladder that they’d used to get down to the beach. “We need to get back to the ship. The crew–”

Cullen took her hand to stop her. “Piper, take a moment to breathe,” he begged.

She pulled away from him with a glare, and Varric held up his hands. “Cap, it’s under control,” he said quietly. “The bad guys were outnumbered on the deck. With Fenris up there now, I’d bet good money that none of them are left alive.”

Piper took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “Fine,” she said in a calmer tone. “But we still need to get up there. And I want to know who these bastards are,” she said with a vicious kick to the nearest enemy’s body. “No one is getting the jump on us again. We’ll be ready for them next time.”

“Of course we will,” Dorian said jovially. “And I’ll make sure to wear my crimson linen trousers from now on. It hides the blood spatter so much more effectively.”

Piper scoffed and punched his arm before leading the way back to the rope ladder. Dorian and Varric made idle jokes as they followed in Piper’s wake, but Cullen couldn’t find it in him to feel lighthearted, not when Piper was so upset.

He picked up his pace and reached out to take her arm. “Piper–”

She pulled her arm away. “Don’t,” she snapped.

He hastily moved his hand away, then peered at her carefully. Was she angry at him? “Piper, if there is something I have done…”

She exhaled slowly, then gave him a serious look. “Not now, Golden Boy,” she said quietly. “My crew need me.” She started climbing up the rope ladder.

Cullen’s heart squeezed at her dismissal, but he tried not to worry too much. She’d called him Golden Boy, after all, so that meant she couldn’t be too angry.

At least that’s what he hoped it meant.

Read the rest on AO3, picking up from Fenris’s POV!

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #fenris #cullavellan #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #piperford #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenrynne #pikascout #schoute draws #pikapeppa writes

66 notes · View notes