Chapter Text
Knight-Captain Cullen knew the great queen of the undercity was from Ferelden, a fact she never really shared with those in Kirkwall who had not known her before. He had heard about her escape from Lothering and hoped she was as sympathetic to the plight of their people as he was, having come here only after the Blight was over. But when he reached the harbours of Kirkwall and found her already running her own smuggler’s ring, taking out opponents by violent and often deadly means, he understood the nickname which was used by allies and enemies alike; The Spider Queen. It was as if she had always been there, as ancient as the city itself. People couldn’t really remember what it had been like before her arrival. When Cullen interrogated the poor individuals in touch with her, they either; cowered in fear from the mentioning of her name alone, or ; spoke of her with such fondness that Cullen thought they must be under some spell. Which he wouldn’t put past her, since she was also a powerful mage with skills taught to her outside the Circle.
Her den or centre of the web, as it were, lay deep within the tunnels of Darktown. A place where she was the law, tough but fair. Somehow she’d brought both the Carta and Coterie into her dealings and every gang who opposed her, was either killed, bribed or recruited. Every soul in the undercity was afraid of her and kept to the shadows when she strolled through her Queendom on the rare occasion she did so. Cullen had never seen her, but had been told about her by others less fortunate. Beautiful to behold, with venomous purple eyes and a smirk to terrify the fiercest warrior. Long, sleek body with pale skin and a heaving chest, which entranced men into doing her bidding. Tales told of her melodious voice, both fair and captivating, promising everything but giving nothing. Rumour had it she was so like a spider that she killed her mates after taking their body and soul, destroying, even devouring their bodies. Cullen was sure it was just gossip, recruits trying to scare each other while on guard duty. Nevertheless, he remained on edge each time the name Hawke reached his ears.
He was, when it came down to it, very superstitious and mages had kept him on his toes ever since the incident at Kinloch hold.
Thus, Cullen was nervous to have business in the Undercity with said demonic female mage named Hawke. He brought two knights with him, Waltina whom he knew from Ferelden and Emmer, a born Kirkwaller, given to the Chantry at an early age when her family couldn’t feed their many children. They marched through Darktown, beggars and poor folk scrambling out of their way. Templars were just as hated down here as they were in the Circle. People spat after them, shouting slurs and profanities. His first week in Kirkwall, he had been shocked to see such hatred, but after his first year, he’d gotten used to it.
They were here, in this maker-forsaken place to deal with the issue of the five escaped mages, who had disappeared in the dead of night by mysterious means. As he suspected foul play and nobody on the upper levels of the city could be of service, he’d decided to quit the case. However, his taskmaster Meredith was not so willing to drop charges. She wanted the mages back into her fold and as such had ordered Cullen to consult the Spider Queen.
Therefore, Cullen found himself and his two knights outside of her lair, guarded by two carta dwarves with thin, agile armour and a black dagger in each hand. Their faces obscured by cloths, except for the eyes. They got to their feet as the three Templars approached.
“Good morning, gentlemen” he saluted. “May I speak with serah Hawke?”
The carta dwarves took one look at Cullen and burst out laughing. “She done take no templers in ‘er den. Leave.”
The knights behind him began rattling in their armour, but Cullen made his best attempt at being non-dismissive. “Please. I can leave my sword and shield outside, if it would make serah Hawke feel more comfortable.”
After a brief glance at each other, one of them twitched his head towards the door. The other slunk inside and was gone for maybe five minutes. When he returned, he nodded promptly.
“If you leave the underlings and weapons outside, the Spider Queen will see ya,” said the dwarf.
Cullen looked over his shoulders at the young Templars behind him and sighed. “Fine. Ser Emmer, Waltina. Stay here. I’ll be along shortly.”
Waltina’s eyes widened. “Ser Cullen, are you sure?”
“There can be no trust of Templars if none is shown,” said Cullen and patted her arm. “It’s alright. They know better than to mess with the Order. If anything happens to me, at least you know where and how.”
Cullen stuck his sword into the street and hung his shield on it. Waltina and Emmer stayed behind when Cullen let the two dwarves lead him inside, shutting and locking the door behind. He clinked noisily through the dark room, which appeared to have been a wine-cellar at one point, with large shelves on every wall and a smell of grapes heavy in the air. Their walk was short but Cullen walked slowly, hesitantly, as though approaching the lair of hungry predators. He thought constantly of the rumours, gossip in the ranks of his subordinates, and tried to dismiss them as nothing but tall tales. But the darkness and smell of liquor made his stomach turn and his throat close up.
The dwarves finally stopped in front of a menacing door with a Hawke painted in a shade of red disconcertingly similar to that of blood. There they left him, giving no further instructions before hurrying back to the entrance. Out of other options, Cullen took a deep breath, and then pounded at the door with four hard beats like those of his heart.
A moment passed in absolute silence, the world seemed to halt then the door slid open, slowly and quietly. The room inside was warm, covered in red fabrics from floor to ceiling. He stepped inside, a stair went up to higher levels in the corner, but it was locked with a metal gate. There was a large double bed in one corner, a desk with a comfortable chair in the other. But standing in the middle of the room, just below a chandelier with red crystals and burning candles, was the most beautiful woman Cullen had ever seen. She had dark hair flowing in curls over her shoulders. Her purple eyes shone with power. And oh, she was completely naked. The black curls just barely covered her round breasts. Her long limbs moved silently towards him. Her smile glimmered in the dark-lit room. When she spoke, Cullen almost dropped to his knees from the sound alone.
“Knight-Captain. To what do I owe the pleasure, hm?” She dragged out the syllables of the last word and added a sweet hum at the end. That, combined with her movement, reminded Cullen more of a cat than of a spider.
He didn’t answer her. He could only stare into her mesmerizing eyes and give a slight: “Er, I, uh…”
“Excuse me for being so scantily clad, dear Knight,” Hawke said sweetly as she walked around him. Even though she didn’t touch him, he could feel warmth coming off her like fire. Her very skin prickled with lightning. He was sure that if he tried anything, she would electrocute him like a lightning strike from a thunderstorm.
“This place gets so very stuffy sometimes,” she continued. “Please tell me what I can do for you?”
Cullen felt how her grip on him loosened enough for him to speak sensibly, though it came out faster and a lot less eloquently than he had intended. “Mass-breakout of the Circle!”
“Dear me!” she exhaled and put her pinkie near her lips, her swelling, red, perfect lips. “I wonder how that could have happened.”
Cullen gulped. “My commander wondered if you might have any …”
Hawke flipped her hair behind her shoulders, revealing her ample cleavage, and nodded for him to continue. But how could he? He gawked like a schoolboy at her.
“If you …” he stammered. “That is…” Cullen watched her breasts heave as she inhaled. “Do you?”
Hawke exhaled again in a confident laugh. “How should I know? Many mages run about town without me knowing about it.”
Cullen mustered his courage and peeled away his eyes from her chest to meet her gaze. “I thought that you knew everything worth knowing in Kirkwall, messere.”
Hawke nodded slowly and turned her back to him. Her form was that of an hourglass. Her backside gloriously round, ending in muscular thighs. Cullen bit his tongue, tried fixing his eyes on hers as she turned again, and sat down on the edge of the bed as if it was a throne. He was flustered and hot, his groin aching with need. He was thankful for the groin cloth that prevented the viewer from seeing his current state, but he realized she probably already knew the effect she had on her victims.
Hawke spread her legs and Cullen stared up into the ceiling. She smirked. “But if you had a mass-breakout that I didn’t know about, it might not be so bad. They will come right back, don’t you think? Why in the Maker’s blood did they break out if the Circle is such a nice place?”
Hawke’s disdain for the Circle was not un-heard-of, and frankly not unfounded, but as she took the Maker’s name in vain while being ironic over his beliefs, he felt flustered with anger. He refused to believe she had nothing to do with it, let alone knew nothing about it.
“Messere Hawke,” he said sternly. “Tell me what I need to know. I know you are interested in keeping people safe. That’s all your dealings in a nutshell, misguided and disguised as they are.”
Hawke hissed. “Oof, Knight-Captain. Bordering on threats there. That’s not your style. Should I call my boys back in?”
“I really want us to work together on this,” said Cullen having finally gotten over the initial shock of seeing the Spider Queen in real life. “You have a lot of influence above your station. You hear whispers others fail to notice. You have eyes in the darkest, deepest places. Help me with this.”
“I’m flattered you think I know more than I do,” said Hawke spreading her legs even further apart, if that was even possible. “But why do you think I should help you? I would not send any of my kind into your prison.”
Cullen gulped at her complete exposure and tried his best to avoid staring at those, neatly trimmed, bulging red lips slick with need. It would be so easy to just walk over there, undress and enter her. He fought his urging instinct with waning strength.
“I, uh, you wouldn’t,” said Cullen, losing his focus again. “Not for free anyhow.”
Hawke smiled, suddenly intrigued. “What are you suggesting?”
“We can make a deal,” suggested Cullen. “You provide information and I’ll give you something in return.”
Hawke paused and tilted her head to the side, pondering something, wondering. Sizing him up for the slaughter? For someone so exposed, so vulnerable, she was as fearsome as a demon of the Fade. He waited patiently as she made her decision.
“You were right in that I did hear about the mass-breakout, even though I myself had nothing to do with it,” said Hawke, carefully weighing each word. She hesitated and the purple flicker of her eyes seemed to diminish.
Cullen came to an awkward realization. Was she equally afraid of him as he were of her? Or was it something about the break-out? Did the escaped mages scare her? He wondered if one of the mages had been one she herself had put there in her early years in Kirkwall. Was that why she obscured herself within this wine-cellar? Suddenly, the powerful Spider seemed to shrink before his eyes and looked more human than ever.
“So you know who it might be?” he tried tentatively.
Hawke arose. “Perhaps.”
“Tell me,” he urged with his new-found courage.
“Hold,” she said and walked closer to him again. “You mentioned a deal.”
“I did,” said Cullen solemnly. “If it’s in my power to give, I’ll do it.”
“That desperate, are you?” Hawke purred. She was so close now; he could feel her warmth again and longed to be a part of it. She glanced quickly down at his groin, which had not died down in the least. “In more ways than one, it seems.”
Cullen sighed in frustration over himself and her. “Please, mistress. Let’s resolve this matter first. What do you need?”
Hawke smirked again and circled him. He felt very exposed, as if she could see right through his armour. His anxiety was proved right when she reached up and undid his shoulder pieces, one after the other. He said nothing, just stood there and let her work. The metal clanked heavily onto the floor as she continued taking apart the rest of his armour, starting with his chest piece. It rattled to the floor, followed by his arms and gauntlets. Underneath, he had a chainmail, and he silently begged her to remove it as well. She unclasped the buckle at the neck where the chainmail hung and it thudded to the floor. She stripped him of his greaves and unbuckled the belt that held his groin cloth but not his leather trousers and white, linen shirt. She stopped and looked up into his eyes.
“Very nice armour you have there,” she whispered and nodded towards the set. “It looks even better on my floor.”
Cullen swallowed. This was it. The rumours were about to prove true. It was hard to determine if he was more eager than scared. But she didn’t go any further. She stepped back and took in the full view of him. “You only wanted my armour?”
Hawke smiled demonically. “Not precisely.” She nonetheless picked it up with surprising strength and placed in the dark corner by the stairs. “I want you to walk back to your tower not wearing your armour, and see how people greet you when you’re not in Templar gear. That must be a first for you.”
Cullen felt confused. “Are you not going to …?”
Hawke hissed again. “Oh, you came here to …” She seductively tilted her head raised her eyebrows. His eyes once again fell on her chest.
Cullen blushed. “No, that’s not what I … You just have a … reputation. But I’m grateful to find out it’s unfounded.”
Hawke laughed. “I don’t take Templars in my den. My carta boys told you that, did they not?”
Cullen shook his head. “I will never understand you.”
“So I believe I owe you some information now, that you’ve so graciously given me a new armour set,” said Hawke amusingly. “Ask.”
