#proeliari

❝ have i --- are you MAD at me, hawke? ❞ the question was sudden -- blurted pass her lips in between quiet sips of tea.  ❝ oh, i -- its been so LONG since you’ve stopped by. I’ve been worried I might have...said something BAD again. did i? ❞ 

                  ❀│ ( I cannot find this meme thing ) 

                ❀│ ( five times kissed ; still accepting )

i. fast and skilled fingers found her sides, resulting in squeals and an endless streams of giggles. her face was red and eyes shut tight, tearing at the laughter which sputtered form her lips. she wiggled about, her own hands attempting to catch the tickling fingers of her attacker. but Alethea’s hands were much stronger than her’s-- and faster. she ended up caught, like a rabbit pinned beneath the paws of a fox, her emerald eyes staring up at the woman in wonder, panting from her efforts. and Hawke--- beautiful and glimmering within the pool of the moon’s light, stared down at the elf with a sense of victory and adoration glittering in her azure stare. Merrill was left breathless-- the woman above her far more beautiful than anything she had ever seen: more than the moon, more than daffodils, more than her favorite jewel. she didn’t resist when Alethea leaned in, when her lips were stolen with a kiss, her hands now intertwined with the other’s instead of pinned-- pale fingers holding calloused hands as lips longed for the lingering sweetness of their kiss. 

ii. she couldn’t believe it-- what she had done. Creators, she betrayed her, turned on her-- threatened her, even fought her. no, no-- how could she have done such a thing? Surely Alethea would not forgive her. but she was selfish-- she had to ask. Merrill paced the floor of her small home, fingers fidgeting as thoughts ran in endless circles about her mind-- until the door opened. Hawke. Merrill paused in her steps, turning sharply to face the door and the woman who emerged from her doorway. “ Hawke! ” she cried, tears dampening green eyes as she rushed towards her, not asking-- not waiting for permission. Merrill took her face in her hands and claimed her lips for her own-- desperation clearly upon her lips. Lips strayed, pressing to the corners of Alethea’s lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her nose-- crying the entire time. “ ...I’m so sorry... ” she whispered between kisses and sobs, “ ---forgive me, vhenan--- please...I’m sorry... ” lips sprinkled about the woman’s features before finally landing upon her lips once more-- more desperate than before and sobs keeping the dale from keeping the touch upon her lips...

iii. the Hanged Man was truly an interesting place filled with interesting people, however, this one, this woman--- not so interesting, though Hawke had certainly found her so. Merrill sat besides her lover, arms crossed over her chest as Alethea joked and chuckled. perhaps it was due to her lack of knowledge in this area, or maybe it truly was happening right before her eyes: flirting. either way, it made the dale fume with anger-- was this anger? oh, she wasn’t sure-- it sure felt like something bitter... she sat and fumed and bitterness soured her until finally, Merrill couldn’t take it any longer. hands reached for her lover’s face, turning her head, leaning in to press a fierce and possessive kiss upon those lips-- claiming the Champion her own before all to see. she pulled away with a flame within her eyes and a frown upon her brows moments before she turned to the other woman-- a challenge within her eyes, willing her away with just a simple glare.

iv. she had been asked to meet her lover beneath the Vhenadahl, and so she waited patiently, rocking on her heels, hands held firmly behind her back-- green eyes staring upon every face which passed her by, searching for those ever familiar blue eyes. finally, she had seen them-- along with that signature grin. Alethea Hawke-- her one love. she beamed the very moment she had laid her eyes upon her, grinning, a soft blush upon her cheeks. but excitement quickly morphed into surprise the moment Hawke had revealed a beautiful bouquet. she knew it was for her, and yet, Merrill’s gaze searched for another-- as if such a beautiful gift could never be given to her hands. but they were, and Merrill happily accepted. she was truly cherished, wasn’t she? truly loved. eyes lifted, gaze admiring every feature-- each one more beautiful. “Oh, Hawke...” she breathed, grasping upon her flowers as she leaned upon her toes, closing the distance between them, lips meeting for the sweetest kiss-- her daily reminder of how much Merrill  l o v e d  her. 

Hawke cannot help but laugh; in a genuine manner. She smiled, waiting for the smaller woman to elbow her gut. Her amusement is honest, and Alethea loves Merrill all the same. “Oh Merrill,” she teases, through drawl. Her beloved tumbles over embarrassment with hints at frustration. Merrill, indeed, had been trying.

     “If you were flirting, shouldn’t my cheeks be red and not your own?” Hawke jests, admiring the rouge that had cascaded along the Dale’s cheeks. “But it is I, who is enarmoed by the red before me~”

Arms crossed over her chest, a pout upon her lips, vallaslin cheeks bright with a blush -- oh, she knew she shouldn’t have tried. It had proved far more embarrassing than she had originally thought  -- Darn Varric for convincing her otherwise. “ Haaaaaawke~ ” She whinned, gaze shying away. 

    Her diligent footfalls came to a stop; eyes falling onto the elf that broke the ongoing silence. Hawke’s eyes are skeptical, but there’s no words to be found. Did she deserve that? That one the Champion surely deserved. She certainly deserved a lecture for the gross stupidity.

    “Someone had to do it,” despite the rebuttal, Alethea doesn’t use this as an excuse. She steels her resolve; finding a subtle pace with her approach. The Champion is only inches away from Merrill. “Can you forgive your idiot?”

Amber green eyes stared as she approached, studying intently-- she had to be sure. But there was only one woman who could stir so many emotions within her -- and she was feeling those now. A tornado-- no a whirlwind of feelings crashing against the walls of her mind.

                         ❧ ( terrible choices; accepting )

“ Clusterfuck? ” She repeated, head tilting, bright and innocent green eyes gazing upon the woman ever so curiously. “ I...I don’t understand. Isabela said that fuck meant--that it meant, oh-- you know : ” Voice dropped to a whisper. “ making love. ” 

The curvature of a smirk speaks across Hawke’s demeanor. She’s enticed by the former statement. “Oh – ?” Alethea drawls. “And why is that?” She may know the answer, but curiosity plagues her. Hawke wants to know it, just by Fenris informing her so.