Chapter 7

Title: My Dearest Calenhad Chapter 7 – Untitled because I couldn't think of one.
Author: Shaleene1
Game: Dragon Age 2
characters/pairing: Carver, Calenhad, Serendipity, Merrill.... mention of some others.
Disclaimer: Dragon age ©Bioware--- Calenhad, ©Shaleene1

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Serendipity lay in the protective circle of Carver's body as his fingers carded gently through her hair, rough lips planting soft kisses on the top of her head. Her own tender delicate fingers gently stroked the light dusting of dark curls that trailed down the center of the warriors broad chest as she whispered sweet nothings against his throat. Eventually the young warrior dozed off and Seren couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as she ran her fingers through his sweat damp hair.

This was how it always was with the young Carver Hawke, when he came seeking her services at the Rose. Carver was always so gentle and loving, treating her with the utmost care and tenderness. Not that she minded the special treatment, it was an all too welcome change from the abusive manhandling she usually suffered at the hands of men like Vanard and Brann. It always made her a bit sad though, the desire she could see buried deep within those tawny eyes of his as he gazed down at her, lost in the dark emerald of her own. There was a need there, a yearning to have another in his arms writhing beneath him. A longing for another's touch against his dark skin as he mumbled incoherently against her throat. Someone who belonged to a name she could never quite catch hidden within his breathless groans. After, he would lay there quietly caressing and kissing her, eyes wet and lost in untold thoughts until he fell asleep in her arms. It was all very tragic, the young man running into the arms of whores to bury some forbidden desire or deep seeded guilt. She was fairly certain it was a fair mixture of both.

Carver gave a small annoyed grunt and rolled onto his back as Seren gently pushed his arm away and slipped silently from the bed. She smiled at the snoring boy before making her way to the vanity in the corner of the room. Carver would sleep soundly for about an hour lost in the fade where he could be with the one he desired. She however was never keen on sleeping beside her clients no matter how gentle or loving they seemed to be. She had learned early how hazardous such things could be, but she wouldn't leave either. Being beside him as he opened his eyes was part of their time together. When she had inquired about it once, he had told her he took comfort in seeing the color green as he woke but would offer no more of an explanation then that. Not that he needed to.

Once in awhile she spoke to Jethann about the young man and the way he acted. Jethann was the only other whore Carver would frequent besides herself and she found his meetings with the two elves were very different. When he was with Jethann it was far more wild and unabated, ending with a few good natured barbs and a playful slap on the ass as the warrior left the Rose. It seemed more a way for the boy to unwind, a few drinks and a tumble in the sheets to forget for a few hours that he was nothing more then a Ferelden refugee and Red Iron thug. With Serendipity he seemed to be trying to find a replacement for whomever it was he truly wished for. To have something that reminded him just enough of what he couldn't, or wouldn't have. The only similarity between the two encounters was the amount of care he took to never harm or disrespect them. He was a good kid if a bit on the tragic side.

Serendipity finished her routine and slipped carefully back into bed beside the sleeping warrior, resting her head carefully on his shoulder and ran her fingers lightly down the center of the young man's forehead and over the bridge of his nose. Carver mumbled something as his head turned to the side and his eyes fluttered open and their gaze met. He stared lovingly into her eyes for a moment, lost somewhere between the fade and the real world, rolling on his side and wrapping his arms lazily around her for a moment. His lips curled in a warm sad smile as he leaned forward and gently kissed the elf's soft lips before giving a tired sigh and slipping out of bed. Serendipity helped Carver dress silently. As she smoothed out the front of his tunic, he gently brushed a thumb across her cheek and pressed one final kiss to her lips.

Carver grabbed his sword from behind the door as he left, shoulders slumped and his mind a torrent of guilt and regret. Guilt of running to the arms of a whore more and more often, and the regret of not being able to admit what his heart truly wanted to whom he wanted. It had gotten worse since the letters. When their mother had sent them into the old Amell estate to find their grandfather's will, Calenhad had found a couple letters between Leandra and Malcolm that had laid mention to another mage in the gallows. Carver had found out later that Calenhad had managed to persuade Aveline to go and speak with the mage, and had returned with a rather large stack of letters between their father and a Templar named Maurevar Carver. His namesake. A stack of letters Calenhad had given him as some sort of odd gift. It was a rather sweet and endearing gesture actually.

He had read the letters dozens of times since then and had learned a great deal about his father and the Templar who had eventually helped him escape Kirkwall. He felt an odd sort of kinship with the other warrior. There was a warmth in the man's writing that could easily be passed off as friendly and caring. But to one who read deeper, as Carver had, it spoke of more. A secret desire that could never be spoken or acted upon. Maurevar had loved Malcolm, heart and soul but he was a Templar, and Malcolm a mage. He often wondered if Maurevar died regretting never telling Malcolm how he had felt, even if those feelings would never be returned. Or perhaps he died knowing he had made the right choice, understanding that sometimes things like that are better left hidden deep within the shadows of your heart.

Carver thought of his own predicament, so like Maurevar's yet so different. He had his own secrets, his own unspoken love, one he swore never to utter aloud. But now he felt torn. Seeing the pain and sadness in those letters made him reflect on his own situation. Reflect on the guilt he felt each time he ran to the Rose, regret of every sleepless night he lay awake listening to the soft snores of his brother as his mind wandered to places it ought not be.

He let out another loud and frustrated grunt as he descended the stairs into Lowtown. Going home was not an option right now so he opted for the Hanged man, a dirty little place in the heart of Lowtown that smelled of bad liquor and piss. There was a self-proclaimed pirate captain that recently ran aground in the marches. She had many stories of the the Ferelden Wardens, some of them heroic, some a bit more intimate. He had to laugh at her when she told him about the nights she spent with the senior warden and his lover, but after getting to know her better and the detailed descriptions of the mens body tattoos he found he could almost believe it.

..~~

Calenhad had taken to sitting against the wall near the stairs leading to the docks during his off hours, watching the people come and go. It wasn't the most productive of past times, probably not the most exciting either, but it was this or sit at home with Gamlen and mother. It had been nine months since that day yet his mother still would not let him forget his failures as a protector and brother, not that he could ever forget. He was reminded every day and night as he looked at his brother's face, his thoughts dwelled on it when he had nothing to do but sit here and watch the Kirkwall residence returning home from work, or in many cases taking their measly pay to the hanged man to waste on foul smelling whiskey and week old bread. He had gone to the Hanged Man once for Meeran, after a few minutes in that place and a couple rather unsavory glances his way he swore he wouldn't ever go there again.

He wondered if Carver was there now, at the hanged man drinking away his day's pay. He seemed to be going there more often lately, or so he assumed. His younger brother had been disappearing more often and would come home smelling of cheap ale, whiskey and smoke. He often wondered about the reasons behind the behavior, if it was his fault somehow earning his brothers ire. He wondered if Carver finally gave in to believing their mother, blaming Calenhad for his twin sister's death. Or maybe it was something far more simple, he had found a girl and was spending his nights with her, or off at the Rose where Gamlen wasted all the money he didn't lose gambling.

It was all moot really, what he hated most about it all was being stuck at home without a buffer between him and his mother. Gamlen he could stomach, the man wasn't so bad once you got past the piss and vinegar. He was a bit of an ass, stealing his sister's money, losing the family estate to slavers, gambling and flitting his money away on whores and booze. But at least he wasn't like his mother, constantly on everyone's back about things they may regret but can do nothing to change, although he had to admit he was a bit grateful that now his mother had something else to complain about. Splitting her anger between him and Gamlen gave Cal a few almost peaceful nights.

Both Gamlen and Carver were out tonight though, and Aveline was working. There was no one to take the heat off of him and his mother was in a particularly foul mood today. That usually meant her words would be particularly venomous as she threatened him with the Gallows again. He was pretty sure she wouldn't turn him in if for no other reason then Carver refused to do so. Despite all her bitching he was still head of the household and usually had last say in matters of the Hawkes. But there was always that small chance their mother would do something drastic and so Cal thought it better to stay away. Better safe then sorry their father had always said.

Calenhad grunted softly as he pressed the heel of his hand against his right eye, he could feel one of those headaches coming on. Thanks to Dar's inked needle, or maybe he was to blame since he was the one who flinched, he was now partially blind in the one eye. The small red dot in the white of his eye a bonus reminder to never get on Meeran's bad side again. He didn't actually need his vision to live, no mage did, but after twenty four years living with blurred vision was not an easy thing to get used to. He couldn't read for hours on end anymore or spent too long trying to focus clearly or he would end up with rather painful headaches. Carver had learned of this about a week or so after and ended up giving Dar a black eye and a split lip. Calenhad had laughed... in his mind anyway.

He sighed again as he pushed himself to his feet, knees popping from sitting in one position for too long. He dusted himself off and began slowly wandering down the road toward the alienage. He had been avoiding that part of Lowtown for near two months now, or rather avoiding the blood mage speaking with demons and stalking the streets down that way. But now Calenhad had found he was rather lonely, Meeran kept him rather busy, but never at the same time as his brother or Aveline. When Carver and Calenhad did have the same time off Carver was never around, off doing whatever it was he did that brought him home at odd hours of the night. The fade hadn't been the same since Bethany was gone either. The kingdom had been restored to it's former glory, and he even recreated Bethany from all the memories he and the fade held of her. But it would never be the same, she was a memory, she would never age and her personality would never develop past the age of eighteen.

Calenhad stood for a long time staring at the door, old wood warped and splintered, rotting slowly from the elements. The leather hinges were worse, a few of the mails were missing and the leather itself looked as if it would fall apart soon. Calenhad kicked a small rock that lay beside his left foot and watched it disappear into the shadows and thump against a hard surface. Something else scurried unseen away from the noise and headed further into the corner. Calenhad blanched at the thought of what it could be and finally decided it was in his best interest to stop being a scaredy pup and knock on the door.

He stared at the small knothole in the door just barely below eye level, shifting nervously from one foot to the other as he waited. Soon he heard the quiet tapping on the other side of the door, more leather bands that were holding the door closed no doubt. At least Gamlen had the good sense to get metal bolts for his door before he pissed away the rest of his father's money. After what seemed like an eternity the door finally opened bathing him in yellow candlelight.

"Calenhad? Calenhad HI! I wasn't expecting you!" Merrill said fumbling with the door handle nervously. She began shifting from one foot to the other as her eyes glanced from Cal's face to somewhere behind him. She was wearing normal clothing now, or at least normal for the elves of Kirkwall, some kind of mixed weave that looked as bad as it probably felt. " Ummm... I wasn't expecting to see you again." She repeated her eyes darting over his shoulder again as if expecting someone else, a Templar perhaps, or his brother Carver.

"Hi Merrill." Cal said softly as he forced himself to stop his own nervous shuffling. "I umm.. I was just... Well I thought I... I was walking... I thought I might come check up on you. See how you settled in."

"Oh I'm... fine."

The two stood there for a long time, Calenhad's eyes flicking from Merrill to the door and back again while Merrill kept looking behind him still half expecting something to jump out of the shadows and take her. "You...You changed your hair." Cal finally said trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had been building.

"Oh umm, yeah I thought I would try a new look." She ran her fingers through her hair. It was down this time, longer then it looked when it was up in those weird knots scattered randomly across her head.

"It's...better."



"Thanks." she looked down as her cheeks taking on a dark crimson.

"So...Uh... Can I … " Cal gestured to the interior of her house with one hand.

"What..Oh OH! Yes please do come in, I am so sorry yes come in!" She barked in a high pitched tone moving quickly to one side allowing him room to step inside. "Sorry for the mess I wasn't expecting company." She mumbled as she pushed the door shut.

Calenhad looked around the interior, he didn't think houses could get any smaller, or uglier, then the two bedroom hovel he shared with his family, three if you counted the crawlspace in the living room ceiling Aveline used as her own little bed area. But this place had only one tiny bedroom, with an even smaller closet. The living area shared space with a small wood burning stove and a round table, three chairs, and one bench along the far wall beside a single cupboard leaning against the wall under a small shelf. The place smelled of rotting wood and dead flesh, rats or cats lodged behind the walls no doubt. Gamlen's place suddenly didn't seem so shitty.

"...Nice place." He said softly as he moved to sit in the cleanest of the three chairs at the table.

"You are kind to say so, you get used to it after awhile I suppose. Do you want something to drink? I have …. water. It's still warm, I had to boil it." She said apologetically.

"No blood magic right?" A stupid question, but the only one he could think of.

Merrill smiled as she pulled two chipped earthen cups from the cupboard and filled them with water from a large pot. "No blood magic, just fire and wood. Well I used normal magic, to make fire as normal as conjuring fire can be anyway. Errr... sorry I am babbling again." She set one mug in front of Calenhad as she sat across from him with the other.

Calenhad wrapped both hands around the mug and pulled it closer. "Thank you, Merrill." He said as he carefully sniffed the water. "So you... are ok here?" He asked looking up at her as a thin layer of ice began forming over the water in his own mug.

"I am ok. It is not exactly what I expected though." She said as she watched, her eyes flicking between his mug and hers asking a question she didn't want to risk verbalizing. "it's been interesting, I don't think people here like me much."

"Why do you say that?" Cal asked as he smiled and slid his mug toward Merrill switching it with hers.

"I.. Oh thank you!" She grinned from ear to ear as she took a sip. " No one really talks to me, I think they know I am Dalish. The tattoos give it away I think. Most flat-ears don't seem to like Dalish very much."

"Probably because you call them flat-ears."

"Maybe." She said thoughtfully. "OH! And I saw someone get mugged right outside my door the other day! It was fascinating!"

Calenhad frowned. "Merrill that is Terrible!"

"Oh it's not so bad. I get lost a lot though, this city is so big!"

"You will get used to it soon enough I am sure."

"Perhaps. So I was umm just about to make dinner. It's not much but if you want to join me you are welcome to." She said as she stood and moved toward the small shelf in the corner.

"I... would like that Merrill, thank you." He smiled as he stood to help.