[Hawke slows as she reaches the last set of stairs, trepidation gripping her again. She almost turns on her heel and walks off again, to give herself more time. But instead, she steels herself and takes the last flight carefully, readying herself for the inevitable.
She comes around the corner and sees him there, leaning against the wall, and she approaches with some caution, though she hopes it isn't as apparent to him as she feels it must be.]
Ezio.
[His name comes out gently in greeting, not as neutral as she'd like. Gone is all the anger she'd felt weeks ago. Now, she's simply tired.]
Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.
[And it's there in her voice, genuine gratitude and nothing less.]
[There is a twinge of guilt upon seeing her- the look on her face and the sound she made when he told her the truth. Words she needed to hear, but perhaps should have been left unsaid, or eased into rather than brought to face so openly. But he knows better. Inwardly, at least. That things as dire as caring for yourself, sharing your burdens, and depending on others... those were not only important for survival- but to simply live. To deny yourself that was to walk down a narrow and dark road, one he had walked along for almost twenty years before he saw the light.
Hawke's greeting causes his head to turn, and a small smile as she gently approaches. The both of them are on unstable ground, ready for the earth to give out at their feet any moment, should things turn out for the worst. But he understands her gratitude and feels the same, nodding slightly.]
I will always come when you ask, Hawke. You shouldn't worry.
[He still wants to be close to her, but the lines between them have become fuzzy and muddled since they last talked, and he is unsure where he sits in her eyes. In an effort to help her, he's hurt her, and that is one of the last things he ever wanted.]
[It's nearly impossible to hide the surprise on her features when Ezio insists he would have come anyway, despite the argument they had, despite how angry she was at the time. The word on her lips nearly tumbles out - why - but Hawke is more controlled than that, biting down on it before it has any chance to betray her conflict and the small, lingering need she feels to turn around and run, to apologize for wasting his time.
No one stays. It's a fact of life, one she's needed to learn most earnestly. Anders will not return to Kirkwall nor to her; Isabela will take Fenris and hopefully Bethany and flee altogether; Hawke, herself, will not go back to her home anytime soon. She cannot expect Ezio to want to stay either, not when she's lashed out so foolishly and hurt him.
She swallows the trepidation in her throat.]
I... I wanted to talk about what you said before, back in the cavern.
[It's a terrible way to begin their reunion. But if he wants to leave, she'll let him, only after she's said her piece. Hawke leans just slightly against the wall, a window separating her and Ezio to give them both the space they properly deserve, side pressed against the corner. She keeps her gaze leveled with his own, undeterred, unyielding.]
Last week, when those people were taken, when there were children in those cages-- I was stupid. I tried to go down there and help them.
[The attempt had been short-lived and altogether painful. She'd tried multiple times right then and there, pushing back, striking the void. Though she'd been unharmed for the most part, the feeling was almost as painful as her altercation on the Ishimura, forcing her to stop.
And it had been there, staring out at the cages and knowing she'd failed, that Ezio's words had come back to her. She couldn't save them, just as she couldn't save Carver or her mother, or Anders, or any of the numerous people who had fallen during her time as Champion or before, or when the ashes settled in Kirkwall's courtyard.]
I know you weren't trying to hurt me. [Even if you did is an undercurrent though, unspoken, because she had hurt him too in her denial and her refusal to listen. She'd turned her back on him when he had only been trying to help her.
Her eyes flit to the window just briefly, out to the courtyard. Her reflection catches her eye and she forces herself to look back at him.] And you were right. You always were. I can't save everyone. And I can't fault or hate myself because of it.
[She always will, though. The guilt will always be carried with her, a shadow and a burden on her heart, even if she can accept that people will fall under her watch no matter what she tries to do. She wonders if her cousin, Solona, knew this pain as a Warden.
At length, Hawke turns herself so she's facing Ezio this time, no longer leaning, hands at her sides.]
I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for...for pushing you away when you were only trying to help, when you had put yourself in danger to save me. [If he hadn't been there, she would have surely died, all because she was chasing the ghosts of her own failures.
Her voice falters for a moment, pained at the edges, and she closes her eyes briefly to steel herself.] And I'm sorry for hurting you because of what I said. I was out of line and I wasn't fair to you.
[When she begins with their talk in the caverns, he hesitates. Not because he doesn't want to hear what she has to say, but there is a part of him that thinks she may simply twist whatever words he has spoken and construe them to make the rift between them grow.
But those words never come. Instead they are ones of apology, of explanation, and where he was once convinced that the bridges between them were long burned, here they are being mended and made stronger, to withstand what broke them before. As soon as the apology is out, he reaches out to her, gently tries to pull her towards him, a sign of forgiveness. There is no anger to be found anywhere, only kindness and a smile.]
I forgive you. [It is simple, but effective.] And I am sorry for hurting you even when I felt there was no other way to show you the truth. [Ezio never wanted to hurt her, never imagined it would go so poorly as it had when they had spoken to each other. He had thought she would get upset, but not to the point of where she nearly broke in front of him, a woman overburdened with too many tasks, and only one of herself to keep it all together. She cannot do this alone, and that was why he had tried to help.
Instead, he only made it worse.]
Hawke. [His voice is gentle, caring and genuine in the words he is about to say.] When I was seventeen, my father and brothers were hung in the city square, killed for a crime they did not commit. I became an assassin to avenge them, to destroy the men responsible for their deaths and to restore honor to my family name.
[It is the first time he has told anyone of his past in the entirety of his stay. From the island, to the boat, now to the city.]
I spent twenty years convinced that revenge was the only answer to my pain. That if I managed to ruin their lives as they had ruined mine, perhaps my failures as a son would be made less, and that it would make things easier to bear as a whole. It was to the point where it almost consumed me.
[His hands gently place themselves on her arms, an indication that he is being honest and open. He is quiet, careful, but it is not because he is afraid. Rather, it is because he wants Hawke to hear every word, and understand them for what they mean.]
I do not want you to suffer as I did, I want you to avoid going down the same road I had. No one should go through that pain, even if you believe you deserve it. And I know it is hard to accept everything I told you, because you are a good person and want to help everyone as much as you can.
[It is more than apparent he cares for her, very much, in how he speaks to her, how he brings her close the second she wants to see him again. That he is willing to forgive almost instantly, no matter the pain caused.]
But you must care for yourself first, love who you are and accept your flaws. That is not only necessary to survive, Hawke, but to live. To love. [A beat.] Without love, it really isn't much of a life at all.
[He stops there, face suddenly becoming conflicted as the thought of saying too much strikes him far too late. He knows if he says any more, it will hurt more than he intends. He's probably made it worse already. Cazzo.
The worry is apparent in his face, but he does not press any further. Instead, he keeps quiet, for fear of blindly just destroying what they were trying to rebuild in an effort to make her see what took him so long to discover on his own.
Before, he was afraid he had burned his bridges. Now, he fears he's destroyed more than that, and will never be able to repair it again.]
[She's hesitant at first, uncertain if he'll accept the apology for what it is. It might be too late. She's resolved herself to follow what Ezio wishes instead of hoping for anything more than she may deserve. But he takes her by the hands and encourages her closer, forgiving her so quickly that she can't do much more than gape in surprise, not expecting it. Ezio's always been kinder than she's given him credit for, because their roles in life - and their respective "jobs" - keep them from expressing that sort of tenderness outright. It's a weakness.
But Ezio and she are very much alike: they care too much.
Hawke's eyes find his when he speaks of his family, her gaze sympathetic and pained.]
Oh, Ezio. I'm so sorry.
[His family gone, killed for no reason. He's lost so much. And all he has is Claudia, as she only has Bethany. Their lives are so parallel to one another that she begins to see, at last, what Ezio means when he warns her against vengeance.]
It's not about vengeance. I just...don't want to lose anyone anymore. I have nothing left but my sister and even now, I have to send her away. She can't be with me after Kirkwall.
[She's never told him about that battle with Meredith and even now, she's not ready yet. But she wants him to know that she understands his caution.]
My father is dead, my brother killed by an ogre when I left my home, and my mother... A blood mage did horrible things to her. I can't tell you-- [And couldn't, even now. That night has been burned into her memory forever. Her grip tightens on him briefly.] I just don't want it to happen to anyone else. I don't want to keep losing the family I've gained. But we've already left Kirkwall and we've separated.
Once I've left Zelien, I'll probably never see them again.
[She and Anders will be hunted down, Anders for his destruction of the Chantry, and Hawke for her aid to the mage uprising. And though she's lived so much of her life on the run for one reason or another, she suffers no illusions about keeping alive with the Chantry and Templars actively looking for her.
It takes a moment, even in his arms and in his gentle grip, for her to comprehend what he's trying to say. The first, of course, because Hawke does not love herself first and never will, having learned from her father that life is not worth living without others, without their love, and without the hope that they give simply by being alive.
Her voice is quiet when she speaks, a smile on her lips that is all too self-deprecating.]
No, it's not. It's not a life I care to live.
[Without those she cares for, she knows she will never live as she once did. Hawke never wanted gold or an estate, a title or the respect of a city. All she wanted was to be loved and to have a family to call her own, people she could care for and to adore in her own way. To protect, to serve. And absent of those people, her friends and blood family, she has nothing.
And it's not much of a life.
Her hands cover his and squeeze gently. For all that he has hurt her, he has only tried to make her see. He's only tried to help her and care for her in his own way.]
I'm so sorry I've pushed you away. That I've pushed them away. It's been a long, long time since I've even considered... It's never been right, to me, to be happy when the people around me aren't. There's always been something more important and I've never wanted to interfere with that.
[And she almost lost him because of that. Her chest tightens and her heart twists at the thought. Her eyes meet his.]
I'm sorry.
[Because 'thank you' doesn't seem to be the right choice of words.]
[His hands take hers when she grabs him, and quietly he finds his fingers interlocking with her own as time passes. The sorrow they share, it is a burden, but it is one they both understand and can try to help each other with. Something that Hawke is finally coming to learn after such a long time.
She's been through so much. It's a common theme between them- their pain, their loss, each a strong part of who they are and what they stand for. Assassins are not meant to reveal what they feel when asked. They keep people at a distance, speak well but are sure to guard themselves and others from their kindness. If it ever shows in the open, it brings liability and danger to all those who know them. That's how it's always been.
And yet here they are, stuck in a city with no escape, and once again crossing paths. Ezio wonders sometimes if COMPASS plans for them to meet like this or if it happens against their wishes. He'd like to think it was the latter- the company only hoping for them to wallow away in misery, instead being thwarted by the strength and compassion of others helping where they could. Like him. Like Hawke.
So when her apology, her way of thanking him is said, he only smiles and leans forward, pressing his head against hers. He says nothing, but hopes the gesture is enough.
"You're welcome."
The last time this happened, the last time they were this close, she was in his arms and bleeding out on the Ishimura, him uncertain whether she would live or not. Being here, with COMPASS, has brought them through hell and back, and it has been anything but pleasant. But it has also allowed them to meet people from different worlds, see views they could not have seen otherwise, understand and work together as a team to overcome their kidnappers. To learn.
To love.]
You do not need to apologize, I understand.
[He is so, so thankful she has not pushed him away this time, chosen instead to listen and to accept his help. It is not easy, and he doesn't expect it to be, but even this step, small as it is, is progress.]
You give so much of yourself to ensure others happiness, Hawke. Remember that they would want for you to have happiness as well.
[And it's true- he can see it in how her companions care for her. How they treat her and look after her as family, protect her where they can and fight alongside her. Hawke is as much a part of their lives as they are in hers.
He doesn't say much after that. With the silence there is, he feels there's no need to. There's a tense feeling in the air, after all- not one of hostility, but one that he's gotten quite familiar with over the years. It stands the hairs on the back of his neck and makes his nerves come alive, but for a good reason. One that he keeps to himself, and rather just enjoys the moment as-is. No qualms, no arguments.
Everything that's happened so far is quiet, calm. And for him, that is enough.]
[Hawke laughs softly, beneath her breath, and shakes her head at his comment.]
Their happiness is my own. That's why I try as hard as I do to make sure nothing happens.
[Nothing else got Hawke out of her slump when her mother died. It's a selfish wish, but she knows her own happiness is always been tied up in others. Ensure they're content to give herself the peace she wants. But she also genuinely wants them to be safe, to be well, and to be loved. They've always come first for her, and always will. So everything about them - needs, wants, wishes - are first and foremost in her mind, even if she can't acquire all of them.
She looks up into Ezio's eyes and has to wonder what he wants out of life, what his wishes are beyond returning home and protecting his loved ones.
And where she could fit into all of that.
Her hands tighten on his.]
Ezio.
[She speaks his name softly, with a kind of reverence and care.]
You make me happy, if that means anything.
[On the Charon, when they said goodbye. The necklace he gave her. The kiss they shared. She left the boat knowing she might never see him again but being content with the time they had together, the care they'd given one another, and the support between them. Zelien hasn't changed that, even after their argument. She wants him to be happy. And she wants...
With Ezio leaning against her head, forehead to forehead, it only takes a tilt of her head to lean in even further so she can press her lips against his. It's not a quick peck; she lingers a few moments before she relents to look at his face and into his eyes, hoping the gesture is not unwanted.]
The words themselves are something he swore he would never hear again, after everything he has been through. Especially after he lost Cristina. A moment of holding her in his arms as she died, a reminder that everything that he cares for will perish, so long as he lives and breathes and continues on the path he has for so long.
A part of him withered that day, and he has never forgotten that.
But here, in this space, in the quiet, there is something welcoming found in just the two of them, the closeness of everything that they are. He doesn't find it often, and when he does, it tends to last for forever and never long enough.
So when Hawke speaks, his first reaction is surprise, one he does not completely know how to react to. You make me happy. He freezes, if only slightly, and suddenly she's moving and her mouth is on his and madre del dio this is where he should be kissing back but his body can't respond because he can't get over the words she's just said. It's like being stuck in a horrible point in time, knowing you should do so much more than you are, but you feel as if every part of you is numb and unable to respond when it needs to.
And just as he's able to respond decently, she pulls away, and he's worried he's offended her. But the look in her eyes only ask if that was all right for her to do, if she had chosen wisely. Inwardly, he panics, thinking he's missed it, made things worse- but no, no, he's not... he won't let it end just like this.]
Hawke...
[His eyes are gentle, a bit surprised, but kind. The gesture was not unwanted.
No, if anything, it was wanted more.
Less than a second later his hands slip out of hers and wrap right around to her back, pulling her closer, making their entire space as intimate as possible, just them and the heat that sets between them as the seconds tick by. His arms rest on her hips and he is perhaps far more forward as he kisses her back, passionate and with fire, mouth on hers like he is drowning, depending on her for air. For all he knows, he probably is.
He's a good speaker, most of the time. For many things, words come to him easily. But sometimes actions speak far better than words, and he hopes his own gesture, his own way of returning what she means to him, can be seen in how he holds her, responds and simply stays with her, right where they are.
[Hawke is taken by surprise when Ezio pulls her in for another kiss, further still at the passion and the care behind the press of his lips, the depth of the emotion she can only fathom. But it's enough to entice her further, and she puts an arm around him, the other hand going up to cradle his face, fingers sliding against the coarse hair on his cheek. It's been so long since she's tried to care for someone like this, to allow herself to love--
Is it love? Her head is spinning and her heart is tight; she can't think or parse out what this is. But she knows Ezio makes her happy, protects her, and cares for her. And that's enough.
His mouth is hot, goading her, and she gives him as good as she's gotten. She tries with desperation to let him know how much she cares, how much she wants him, how much she dearly wishes to prove his worth to her. He is her air right then, the heat against her chest, the guard against her back. She can't get enough.
She breaks from this kiss only briefly to breathe, their noses centimeters apart. Her smile is obvious against his lips.]
Ezio.
[There is nothing short of admiration and desire in her tone, a fire sparked that cannot be put out.]
[Holding him that close to her is an automatic tease, and when she smiles, so does he. His is more playful, however, a spark lit in him that crawls from the pit of his stomach upwards, teasing him of what is to come. He leans forward and kisses her again, hands moving from her back to her hips and a growl emitting from the back of his throat, one that speaks of desire and approval and want, far more than he expects of himself.
Hawke is his rock at this moment, someone who is steady and can keep him grounded when things begin to fall apart. She is his desire, his flame, the thing he needs and craves more than anything else in the world right now. She is beautiful, perfect in everything she does, flaws and all, and she, in this moment, is his. His mouth leaves hers then, trails along her jaw in kisses, buries his face in the crook of her neck and breathes gently, mouth hovering by her ear.]
Tu sei bella, Hawke.
["You're beautiful."
It is quiet, spoken for her and her alone, in the confines of their hallway- which, thinking about it now, is probably not the best place to continue this activity- but it is simple and intimate and an admittance of who he is, and what he sees. He softly kisses her again, starting at the top of her neck and going as far as he can without her collar interfering.
They are on dangerous grounds, a moment where it is being pushed further and further into territory where they can't go back. For once, in this place, Ezio doesn't seem to mind.]
[It's been so long since someone's touched her, since she's allowed someone to be this close. It's both frightening and exhilarating, a tremble sliding up her spine, but she stays close and enjoys the feeling of warm hands on her hips, lips against her throat, and a deep voice by her ear. She exhales, the sound coupled with her voice, and her hands grip his shoulders tightly for a moment.
She needs some grounding before she drowns in sensations.]
Marian.
[She says it so abruptly that she has to clear her throat and try again, pulling away briefly so she can look him in the eye.]
My name is Marian.
[It's been years since she's given her first name away so freely. No one has called her that since her mother died. The privilege is a high one, trust given freely, and it forces her to swallow in some discomfort. She's given a part of herself to him now and she can't deny it, no matter how she may wish to at a later date.
Instead of lapsing into silence and uncertainty, Hawke takes his hand instead. Her smile is small but confident.]
Maybe we should take this elsewhere. My room, perhaps?
[Where he can continue to speak lowly to her, to touch her, to kiss her. And she can reciprocate openly.]
[When she pulls away he thinks he's done something wrong, worries that he has pushed too far, until she speaks, and he hears her name. Marian. It surprises him a little, to know that she does have a first name- and of course she does, but he has gotten so used to calling her by her last, he never thought to call her anything more than that. It is a sign of utmost trust, a moment in which he realizes that for them, this is a turning point. A moment in time where they cannot go back, cannot be the same people that left the ship and went home, thinking they would never see each other again.
His eyes darken in intrigue as she continues, the suggestion of moving to her quarters perhaps something he takes a small pleasure in, and he squeezes her hand gently, smile on his face.]
Lead the way, Marian.
[There is a desire that has been there from when they first touched, or perhaps even before that. He doesn't know. What he does know is that in this moment and the ones proceeding now, he will gladly take her as she is. Faults, flaws, imprefections and all. For that is what makes her beautiful.]
[Hawke nods, a single gesture in the middle of so much emotion and fire, and she guides him to the adjoining door that leads to the three separate dorm rooms, and then again past there to her own room. The doors are all closed behind her, her own locked once he is inside, to ensure that they have some privacy, no matter where this may lead.
Her first inclination is to be skittish and uncertain, afraid that if they push too far now that they'll never be able to go back and fix things again. Repairing a bridge is one thing; this is going further than she's thought to go with anyone in years. But something seems right about this, a feeling she can't put her finger on.
She'll just have to trust her instincts.
Rather than give him a moment to question if she is all right or to believe she is having second thoughts, no matter where she's taken them, Hawke steps right back in to kiss Ezio again, the gesture immediately heated and wanting, one hand cradling his jaw and the other in his hair, fingers in the strands of his ponytail. Hawke is bold when there's something she wants.
[He follows her easily, into the main room and then into her own, noting the locked door and how this has become something far more than he ever expected of her. His hood is pulled down and he can feel her hands run through the bottom of his hair, hand to his face, taking delight as she pushes back into him, her mouth to his. His hands travel all over her as they kiss, hot, wanting, needing for so much more than what they are, of what they have been. It is a dance, a whirlwind of lips and teeth and tongue, caught in the fires of desire and the simultaneous beating of hearts as a symphony, a cascade of unending sound.
It's enough for him to feel the ache that suddenly makes itself known below his gut, reminds him that while Hawke can be bold, he can be downright dangerous. The seconds pass and a low rumble rises from his chest, one that promises to devour, consume, destroy everything that Hawke is and make her whole at the same time. He is like a great and terrible storm, crashing into the tide at full force, decimating everything in his wake and creating new life as he leaves.
And so, in one swift movement, his arms change their position to her back and below that and he lifts her up off the floor, cradling her as he carries her right to the bed. He is forward in his intentions, not to mention impatient as he puts her back down, letting out a growl as he greedily buries his face in her neck again, mouth pushing past the collar of her jerkin and teeth beginning to nip along her neck. His hands are just as eager, palms tracing down her front and to her belt, fingers drifting over the buckles and trying to find just where exactly he has to pull to get them undone. He wants her and he wants her out of her clothes, Zelien or the Charon or the island be damned, they have gone through too much together to be denied this now.]
[Dangerous is something she's never attributed to Ezio. Dangerous is the sort of word she'd use for killers, for those who would hurt the people she loves. She would throw the word around to people who harm and steal and hate, for those who destroy others without a second thought. But when he picks her up and settles her on the bed, climbs onto it after her and begins to tug at her clothes, she realizes that it's a word that's all too apt for Ezio, who burns and claws, and who will not be satisfied with a kiss and turn.
And that's exactly how she wants him.
Her smile is there, against his forehead as his face buries itself in her throat, and her hands slip down to coax his along the clasps and latches of her jerkin. She helps him with the belt, shedding the first layer of her clothes like a second skin, and moving her body back so she can lead him further onto the bed, where they can stretch out and fumble better, all kisses and heat and erratic breathing.
She's already reaching for the sash at his waist and the catches of his robe, seeking more, craving it. As an act of good faith, she only undoes half of his tunic before she's reaching for the ties of her own, the buttons too tedious for her growing impatience.]
[The pace at which they're moving is fast, heated, barreling full speed towards an end they both know and are eager for at this point. When her hands touch his and guide him on how to undo her belt, he feels a spark of energy shoot down his spine, heart pounding in his ears as he moves right with her further onto the bed. It is a tangle of limbs and clothing, a frantic mess of lust and craving, and one that only grows as time pushes forward.
But there is something of a chuckle when Hawke grows with impatience in trying to get herself out of her clothes, Ezio finding it a little ironic compared to his own demeanor towards her. He knows she's already started on his robes, and so he makes it easy for her as she fusses with hers- he pulls away just a little, and with one hand trailing down her side and caressing her hip he undoes the belts with the insignia, allowing the sash to unravel with ease. It lands with a soft clunk on the floor as he tosses both aside, closing the distance between him and her again, mouth to hers in another long heated kiss. With her now occupied, the same hand and arm that got rid of his sash now slips right out of his robes, leaving him half exposed, almost like a tease. He switches sides after that, lowering that same hand to touch Hawke while the other proceeds to remove itself and help him get out of the remaining heap on his shoulder. When that is done, he throws that to the floor as well, leaving his torso bare and open for her to explore, just as he explores her. There are scars there, ones that tell stories, of trials, and of heartache, but all that is buried now in favor of helping the woman underneath him wrestle out of her clothes and triumphing over the obstacles that presents.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She comes around the corner and sees him there, leaning against the wall, and she approaches with some caution, though she hopes it isn't as apparent to him as she feels it must be.]
Ezio.
[His name comes out gently in greeting, not as neutral as she'd like. Gone is all the anger she'd felt weeks ago. Now, she's simply tired.]
Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.
[And it's there in her voice, genuine gratitude and nothing less.]
no subject
Hawke's greeting causes his head to turn, and a small smile as she gently approaches. The both of them are on unstable ground, ready for the earth to give out at their feet any moment, should things turn out for the worst. But he understands her gratitude and feels the same, nodding slightly.]
I will always come when you ask, Hawke. You shouldn't worry.
[He still wants to be close to her, but the lines between them have become fuzzy and muddled since they last talked, and he is unsure where he sits in her eyes. In an effort to help her, he's hurt her, and that is one of the last things he ever wanted.]
no subject
No one stays. It's a fact of life, one she's needed to learn most earnestly. Anders will not return to Kirkwall nor to her; Isabela will take Fenris and hopefully Bethany and flee altogether; Hawke, herself, will not go back to her home anytime soon. She cannot expect Ezio to want to stay either, not when she's lashed out so foolishly and hurt him.
She swallows the trepidation in her throat.]
I... I wanted to talk about what you said before, back in the cavern.
[It's a terrible way to begin their reunion. But if he wants to leave, she'll let him, only after she's said her piece. Hawke leans just slightly against the wall, a window separating her and Ezio to give them both the space they properly deserve, side pressed against the corner. She keeps her gaze leveled with his own, undeterred, unyielding.]
Last week, when those people were taken, when there were children in those cages-- I was stupid. I tried to go down there and help them.
[The attempt had been short-lived and altogether painful. She'd tried multiple times right then and there, pushing back, striking the void. Though she'd been unharmed for the most part, the feeling was almost as painful as her altercation on the Ishimura, forcing her to stop.
And it had been there, staring out at the cages and knowing she'd failed, that Ezio's words had come back to her. She couldn't save them, just as she couldn't save Carver or her mother, or Anders, or any of the numerous people who had fallen during her time as Champion or before, or when the ashes settled in Kirkwall's courtyard.]
I know you weren't trying to hurt me. [Even if you did is an undercurrent though, unspoken, because she had hurt him too in her denial and her refusal to listen. She'd turned her back on him when he had only been trying to help her.
Her eyes flit to the window just briefly, out to the courtyard. Her reflection catches her eye and she forces herself to look back at him.] And you were right. You always were. I can't save everyone. And I can't fault or hate myself because of it.
[She always will, though. The guilt will always be carried with her, a shadow and a burden on her heart, even if she can accept that people will fall under her watch no matter what she tries to do. She wonders if her cousin, Solona, knew this pain as a Warden.
At length, Hawke turns herself so she's facing Ezio this time, no longer leaning, hands at her sides.]
I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for...for pushing you away when you were only trying to help, when you had put yourself in danger to save me. [If he hadn't been there, she would have surely died, all because she was chasing the ghosts of her own failures.
Her voice falters for a moment, pained at the edges, and she closes her eyes briefly to steel herself.] And I'm sorry for hurting you because of what I said. I was out of line and I wasn't fair to you.
no subject
But those words never come. Instead they are ones of apology, of explanation, and where he was once convinced that the bridges between them were long burned, here they are being mended and made stronger, to withstand what broke them before. As soon as the apology is out, he reaches out to her, gently tries to pull her towards him, a sign of forgiveness. There is no anger to be found anywhere, only kindness and a smile.]
I forgive you. [It is simple, but effective.] And I am sorry for hurting you even when I felt there was no other way to show you the truth. [Ezio never wanted to hurt her, never imagined it would go so poorly as it had when they had spoken to each other. He had thought she would get upset, but not to the point of where she nearly broke in front of him, a woman overburdened with too many tasks, and only one of herself to keep it all together. She cannot do this alone, and that was why he had tried to help.
Instead, he only made it worse.]
Hawke. [His voice is gentle, caring and genuine in the words he is about to say.] When I was seventeen, my father and brothers were hung in the city square, killed for a crime they did not commit. I became an assassin to avenge them, to destroy the men responsible for their deaths and to restore honor to my family name.
[It is the first time he has told anyone of his past in the entirety of his stay. From the island, to the boat, now to the city.]
I spent twenty years convinced that revenge was the only answer to my pain. That if I managed to ruin their lives as they had ruined mine, perhaps my failures as a son would be made less, and that it would make things easier to bear as a whole. It was to the point where it almost consumed me.
[His hands gently place themselves on her arms, an indication that he is being honest and open. He is quiet, careful, but it is not because he is afraid. Rather, it is because he wants Hawke to hear every word, and understand them for what they mean.]
I do not want you to suffer as I did, I want you to avoid going down the same road I had. No one should go through that pain, even if you believe you deserve it. And I know it is hard to accept everything I told you, because you are a good person and want to help everyone as much as you can.
[It is more than apparent he cares for her, very much, in how he speaks to her, how he brings her close the second she wants to see him again. That he is willing to forgive almost instantly, no matter the pain caused.]
But you must care for yourself first, love who you are and accept your flaws. That is not only necessary to survive, Hawke, but to live. To love. [A beat.] Without love, it really isn't much of a life at all.
[He stops there, face suddenly becoming conflicted as the thought of saying too much strikes him far too late. He knows if he says any more, it will hurt more than he intends. He's probably made it worse already. Cazzo.
The worry is apparent in his face, but he does not press any further. Instead, he keeps quiet, for fear of blindly just destroying what they were trying to rebuild in an effort to make her see what took him so long to discover on his own.
Before, he was afraid he had burned his bridges. Now, he fears he's destroyed more than that, and will never be able to repair it again.]
no subject
But Ezio and she are very much alike: they care too much.
Hawke's eyes find his when he speaks of his family, her gaze sympathetic and pained.]
Oh, Ezio. I'm so sorry.
[His family gone, killed for no reason. He's lost so much. And all he has is Claudia, as she only has Bethany. Their lives are so parallel to one another that she begins to see, at last, what Ezio means when he warns her against vengeance.]
It's not about vengeance. I just...don't want to lose anyone anymore. I have nothing left but my sister and even now, I have to send her away. She can't be with me after Kirkwall.
[She's never told him about that battle with Meredith and even now, she's not ready yet. But she wants him to know that she understands his caution.]
My father is dead, my brother killed by an ogre when I left my home, and my mother... A blood mage did horrible things to her. I can't tell you-- [And couldn't, even now. That night has been burned into her memory forever. Her grip tightens on him briefly.] I just don't want it to happen to anyone else. I don't want to keep losing the family I've gained. But we've already left Kirkwall and we've separated.
Once I've left Zelien, I'll probably never see them again.
[She and Anders will be hunted down, Anders for his destruction of the Chantry, and Hawke for her aid to the mage uprising. And though she's lived so much of her life on the run for one reason or another, she suffers no illusions about keeping alive with the Chantry and Templars actively looking for her.
It takes a moment, even in his arms and in his gentle grip, for her to comprehend what he's trying to say. The first, of course, because Hawke does not love herself first and never will, having learned from her father that life is not worth living without others, without their love, and without the hope that they give simply by being alive.
Her voice is quiet when she speaks, a smile on her lips that is all too self-deprecating.]
No, it's not. It's not a life I care to live.
[Without those she cares for, she knows she will never live as she once did. Hawke never wanted gold or an estate, a title or the respect of a city. All she wanted was to be loved and to have a family to call her own, people she could care for and to adore in her own way. To protect, to serve. And absent of those people, her friends and blood family, she has nothing.
And it's not much of a life.
Her hands cover his and squeeze gently. For all that he has hurt her, he has only tried to make her see. He's only tried to help her and care for her in his own way.]
I'm so sorry I've pushed you away. That I've pushed them away. It's been a long, long time since I've even considered... It's never been right, to me, to be happy when the people around me aren't. There's always been something more important and I've never wanted to interfere with that.
[And she almost lost him because of that. Her chest tightens and her heart twists at the thought. Her eyes meet his.]
I'm sorry.
[Because 'thank you' doesn't seem to be the right choice of words.]
no subject
She's been through so much. It's a common theme between them- their pain, their loss, each a strong part of who they are and what they stand for. Assassins are not meant to reveal what they feel when asked. They keep people at a distance, speak well but are sure to guard themselves and others from their kindness. If it ever shows in the open, it brings liability and danger to all those who know them. That's how it's always been.
And yet here they are, stuck in a city with no escape, and once again crossing paths. Ezio wonders sometimes if COMPASS plans for them to meet like this or if it happens against their wishes. He'd like to think it was the latter- the company only hoping for them to wallow away in misery, instead being thwarted by the strength and compassion of others helping where they could. Like him. Like Hawke.
So when her apology, her way of thanking him is said, he only smiles and leans forward, pressing his head against hers. He says nothing, but hopes the gesture is enough.
"You're welcome."
The last time this happened, the last time they were this close, she was in his arms and bleeding out on the Ishimura, him uncertain whether she would live or not. Being here, with COMPASS, has brought them through hell and back, and it has been anything but pleasant. But it has also allowed them to meet people from different worlds, see views they could not have seen otherwise, understand and work together as a team to overcome their kidnappers. To learn.
To love.]
You do not need to apologize, I understand.
[He is so, so thankful she has not pushed him away this time, chosen instead to listen and to accept his help. It is not easy, and he doesn't expect it to be, but even this step, small as it is, is progress.]
You give so much of yourself to ensure others happiness, Hawke. Remember that they would want for you to have happiness as well.
[And it's true- he can see it in how her companions care for her. How they treat her and look after her as family, protect her where they can and fight alongside her. Hawke is as much a part of their lives as they are in hers.
He doesn't say much after that. With the silence there is, he feels there's no need to. There's a tense feeling in the air, after all- not one of hostility, but one that he's gotten quite familiar with over the years. It stands the hairs on the back of his neck and makes his nerves come alive, but for a good reason. One that he keeps to himself, and rather just enjoys the moment as-is. No qualms, no arguments.
Everything that's happened so far is quiet, calm. And for him, that is enough.]
no subject
Their happiness is my own. That's why I try as hard as I do to make sure nothing happens.
[Nothing else got Hawke out of her slump when her mother died. It's a selfish wish, but she knows her own happiness is always been tied up in others. Ensure they're content to give herself the peace she wants. But she also genuinely wants them to be safe, to be well, and to be loved. They've always come first for her, and always will. So everything about them - needs, wants, wishes - are first and foremost in her mind, even if she can't acquire all of them.
She looks up into Ezio's eyes and has to wonder what he wants out of life, what his wishes are beyond returning home and protecting his loved ones.
And where she could fit into all of that.
Her hands tighten on his.]
Ezio.
[She speaks his name softly, with a kind of reverence and care.]
You make me happy, if that means anything.
[On the Charon, when they said goodbye. The necklace he gave her. The kiss they shared. She left the boat knowing she might never see him again but being content with the time they had together, the care they'd given one another, and the support between them. Zelien hasn't changed that, even after their argument. She wants him to be happy. And she wants...
With Ezio leaning against her head, forehead to forehead, it only takes a tilt of her head to lean in even further so she can press her lips against his. It's not a quick peck; she lingers a few moments before she relents to look at his face and into his eyes, hoping the gesture is not unwanted.]
no subject
The words themselves are something he swore he would never hear again, after everything he has been through. Especially after he lost Cristina. A moment of holding her in his arms as she died, a reminder that everything that he cares for will perish, so long as he lives and breathes and continues on the path he has for so long.
A part of him withered that day, and he has never forgotten that.
But here, in this space, in the quiet, there is something welcoming found in just the two of them, the closeness of everything that they are. He doesn't find it often, and when he does, it tends to last for forever and never long enough.
So when Hawke speaks, his first reaction is surprise, one he does not completely know how to react to. You make me happy. He freezes, if only slightly, and suddenly she's moving and her mouth is on his and madre del dio this is where he should be kissing back but his body can't respond because he can't get over the words she's just said. It's like being stuck in a horrible point in time, knowing you should do so much more than you are, but you feel as if every part of you is numb and unable to respond when it needs to.
And just as he's able to respond decently, she pulls away, and he's worried he's offended her. But the look in her eyes only ask if that was all right for her to do, if she had chosen wisely. Inwardly, he panics, thinking he's missed it, made things worse- but no, no, he's not... he won't let it end just like this.]
Hawke...
[His eyes are gentle, a bit surprised, but kind. The gesture was not unwanted.
No, if anything, it was wanted more.
Less than a second later his hands slip out of hers and wrap right around to her back, pulling her closer, making their entire space as intimate as possible, just them and the heat that sets between them as the seconds tick by. His arms rest on her hips and he is perhaps far more forward as he kisses her back, passionate and with fire, mouth on hers like he is drowning, depending on her for air. For all he knows, he probably is.
He's a good speaker, most of the time. For many things, words come to him easily. But sometimes actions speak far better than words, and he hopes his own gesture, his own way of returning what she means to him, can be seen in how he holds her, responds and simply stays with her, right where they are.
You make me happy, far more than I can ever say.]
no subject
Is it love? Her head is spinning and her heart is tight; she can't think or parse out what this is. But she knows Ezio makes her happy, protects her, and cares for her. And that's enough.
His mouth is hot, goading her, and she gives him as good as she's gotten. She tries with desperation to let him know how much she cares, how much she wants him, how much she dearly wishes to prove his worth to her. He is her air right then, the heat against her chest, the guard against her back. She can't get enough.
She breaks from this kiss only briefly to breathe, their noses centimeters apart. Her smile is obvious against his lips.]
Ezio.
[There is nothing short of admiration and desire in her tone, a fire sparked that cannot be put out.]
no subject
Hawke is his rock at this moment, someone who is steady and can keep him grounded when things begin to fall apart. She is his desire, his flame, the thing he needs and craves more than anything else in the world right now. She is beautiful, perfect in everything she does, flaws and all, and she, in this moment, is his. His mouth leaves hers then, trails along her jaw in kisses, buries his face in the crook of her neck and breathes gently, mouth hovering by her ear.]
Tu sei bella, Hawke.
["You're beautiful."
It is quiet, spoken for her and her alone, in the confines of their hallway- which, thinking about it now, is probably not the best place to continue this activity- but it is simple and intimate and an admittance of who he is, and what he sees. He softly kisses her again, starting at the top of her neck and going as far as he can without her collar interfering.
They are on dangerous grounds, a moment where it is being pushed further and further into territory where they can't go back. For once, in this place, Ezio doesn't seem to mind.]
no subject
She needs some grounding before she drowns in sensations.]
Marian.
[She says it so abruptly that she has to clear her throat and try again, pulling away briefly so she can look him in the eye.]
My name is Marian.
[It's been years since she's given her first name away so freely. No one has called her that since her mother died. The privilege is a high one, trust given freely, and it forces her to swallow in some discomfort. She's given a part of herself to him now and she can't deny it, no matter how she may wish to at a later date.
Instead of lapsing into silence and uncertainty, Hawke takes his hand instead. Her smile is small but confident.]
Maybe we should take this elsewhere. My room, perhaps?
[Where he can continue to speak lowly to her, to touch her, to kiss her. And she can reciprocate openly.]
no subject
His eyes darken in intrigue as she continues, the suggestion of moving to her quarters perhaps something he takes a small pleasure in, and he squeezes her hand gently, smile on his face.]
Lead the way, Marian.
[There is a desire that has been there from when they first touched, or perhaps even before that. He doesn't know. What he does know is that in this moment and the ones proceeding now, he will gladly take her as she is. Faults, flaws, imprefections and all. For that is what makes her beautiful.]
no subject
Her first inclination is to be skittish and uncertain, afraid that if they push too far now that they'll never be able to go back and fix things again. Repairing a bridge is one thing; this is going further than she's thought to go with anyone in years. But something seems right about this, a feeling she can't put her finger on.
She'll just have to trust her instincts.
Rather than give him a moment to question if she is all right or to believe she is having second thoughts, no matter where she's taken them, Hawke steps right back in to kiss Ezio again, the gesture immediately heated and wanting, one hand cradling his jaw and the other in his hair, fingers in the strands of his ponytail. Hawke is bold when there's something she wants.
And tonight, that's him.]
no subject
It's enough for him to feel the ache that suddenly makes itself known below his gut, reminds him that while Hawke can be bold, he can be downright dangerous. The seconds pass and a low rumble rises from his chest, one that promises to devour, consume, destroy everything that Hawke is and make her whole at the same time. He is like a great and terrible storm, crashing into the tide at full force, decimating everything in his wake and creating new life as he leaves.
And so, in one swift movement, his arms change their position to her back and below that and he lifts her up off the floor, cradling her as he carries her right to the bed. He is forward in his intentions, not to mention impatient as he puts her back down, letting out a growl as he greedily buries his face in her neck again, mouth pushing past the collar of her jerkin and teeth beginning to nip along her neck. His hands are just as eager, palms tracing down her front and to her belt, fingers drifting over the buckles and trying to find just where exactly he has to pull to get them undone. He wants her and he wants her out of her clothes, Zelien or the Charon or the island be damned, they have gone through too much together to be denied this now.]
no subject
And that's exactly how she wants him.
Her smile is there, against his forehead as his face buries itself in her throat, and her hands slip down to coax his along the clasps and latches of her jerkin. She helps him with the belt, shedding the first layer of her clothes like a second skin, and moving her body back so she can lead him further onto the bed, where they can stretch out and fumble better, all kisses and heat and erratic breathing.
She's already reaching for the sash at his waist and the catches of his robe, seeking more, craving it. As an act of good faith, she only undoes half of his tunic before she's reaching for the ties of her own, the buttons too tedious for her growing impatience.]
no subject
But there is something of a chuckle when Hawke grows with impatience in trying to get herself out of her clothes, Ezio finding it a little ironic compared to his own demeanor towards her. He knows she's already started on his robes, and so he makes it easy for her as she fusses with hers- he pulls away just a little, and with one hand trailing down her side and caressing her hip he undoes the belts with the insignia, allowing the sash to unravel with ease. It lands with a soft clunk on the floor as he tosses both aside, closing the distance between him and her again, mouth to hers in another long heated kiss. With her now occupied, the same hand and arm that got rid of his sash now slips right out of his robes, leaving him half exposed, almost like a tease. He switches sides after that, lowering that same hand to touch Hawke while the other proceeds to remove itself and help him get out of the remaining heap on his shoulder. When that is done, he throws that to the floor as well, leaving his torso bare and open for her to explore, just as he explores her. There are scars there, ones that tell stories, of trials, and of heartache, but all that is buried now in favor of helping the woman underneath him wrestle out of her clothes and triumphing over the obstacles that presents.]