Posts Tagged 'malcolm hawke'

Writing is underway!

…and thanks to my three prompters for this round of the committee prompt game, it shall include the baking of bread, a suspicious pool of water, and a litter of kittens! So far we’ve just got to the kittens point though, so here is a tiny preview wherein not even Hawke can probably tell which of her children is speaking which line as they talk over each other so fast in their eagerness to beg for a kitten.

There were four of them, mostly grey, one the color of the ripe peaches on Papa’s favorite tree. The mother cat, white with grey patches, purring as her brood kneaded greedily at their dinner, cast a shrewd yellow eye at the children as they approached. Her tail twitched, but when they kept a fair distance, she seemed to relax, shifting to give the kittens more space in the crate.

“There you are,” came Mum’s voice as she caught up with them. “Oh!” She noticed the feline family holding their attention. “Hello again, Jasmine,” she greeted the mother cat, bending to pat its head – a gesture which met with the cat’s approval; she thrust her head to meet Mum’s hand, purring louder.

“How do you know her name, Mum?” Mal asked, inching closer to run a finger down one tiny grey back while Mum had the mother cat’s attention.

“Oh, Merrill named this one years ago,” Mum answered, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “I’m surprised she’s still around. Cats in Darktown…”

“She likes you,” Mara giggled, following Mal’s lead and poking carefully at the orange kitten.

“She should!” Mum grinned. “Most of the cream Anders used to put out for her came from my kitchen, after all.” And then Mum suddenly looked sadder than anyone so near to a purring cat ought to look, and stood, brushing her hands over her knees. “All right, we’d best be getting home now.”

“But Mum!”

“Can’t we –”

“Why don’t we have a cat, Mum?”

“Oooh, can we have a cat, Mum?”

“Yes! Can we take a kitten home?”

“Can I take the orange one?”

“Let’s name it Peach!”



so we all agree that Malcom Hawke looked like this right




hi @bettydice you have been asking for the thing for so very very long so here you go

here is the thing I am sorry it is not beta’d but hopefully it is still pleasing unto thee.


Leandra is awake.

She is also exhausted and her thoughts are running circles
in her mind, mostly about how tired she is and how much she would like to be
asleep but also about the unfairness of life, how any poet who had ever said “follow
your heart” had clearly been clueless as to just how difficult that advice turned out to be.  Not that she had thought being an apostate’s
wife would be all fun and excitement—well, all right, she had, though Malcolm had tried to tell her otherwise.  Had tried to talk her out of the whole thing,
in fact, but the little detail of her Condition had settled the matter.

Though when he’d disappeared, just up and left with a vague
note promising freedom, and she’d been a prisoner in her own bedroom and even
Gamlen had been unable to meet her eyes with a reassuring roll of his own when
their father started ranting—

She could have settled matters herself, of course, but she
hadn’t.  She loved him, and she trusted
him, and she’d known he’d come for her, though by the time he arrived it was
nearly too late and she’d rather thought the Grey Wardens were a bit
dramatic.  She’d enjoyed the drama,
though, right up until Malcolm had set her swollen feet on Ferelden ground
without a penny to their name, let alone a roof over their head.



is this the only time thistle is ever laughing happily


Hesta finds a cat. Can be sappy or fluffy. Or both. ^_^



Malcolm’s eyes shifted upwards from his grimoire. Fifteen years was long enough to recognize the nuances of his daughter’s variations in that one word – and this particular tone was usually reserved for breaking something she shouldn’t have. He supposed there was that one time he accidentally forgot to disenchant a plant and it kept dancing in their windowsill, but his theory stood strong otherwise.
“What’d you do now, Hesta?” he called back, laughing.
“First of all, rude,” she yelled back. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my entire life.” From the kitchen, Bethany and Carver giggled and groaned in chorus. “Second of all, come outside. I need your help with something.” 

With his grimoire safely beneath a floorboard again, Malcolm met his eldest offspring outside and let her lead him to the flower garden Leandra had insisted they start behind their modest little farmhouse. He knew it was her way of praying that they’d stay in Lothering, but he said nothing about it. That promise is not one an apostate could make. 

“You brought me outside to show me… the garden? Did you not know this was here?” Hesta rolled her eyes as she dropped into a low squat. Malcolm couldn’t see what she was looking for, but by the time he’d half a mind to squat down next to her, she was already gathering something into her arms. 
“The whole town knows it’s here, Pops, you wouldn’t shut up about it for a month.” 
“Do you see anyone else in this town with a garden as beautiful and perfect as your mother? Cut your old man some slack. What am I supposed to brag about? My kids?” 
“Uh, duh,” she said. “Speaking of which, congratulations! You’ve got four more.” Before he could ask, the kid rose slowly to her feet and turned to face him with an armful of … kittens. “Their mom’s dead. Barlin’s dog attacked her last night.”
“I think I need to have a word with your mother. They look nothing like me.” 

Leandra had been initially opposed to the idea of nursing kittens, but it was very hard to resist four gray little fluffy lumps with stubby little kitten paws who hadn’t even opened their little kitten eyes. Even Carver had been completely pacified by the tiny creatures, lying shock still on the floor as to not wake the one lying on his chest. 
“Can we keep them, pop?” 
“I don’t think four cats in a tiny farmhouse is a good idea, Carv.”
“Well, I think it’s a purr-fect idea,” Hesta chimed in from her post at the kitchen table. Armed with a half-filled basin of water and Bethany to keep it warm and be on drying duty, he’d turned his kids into a lean, mean, kitten-washing machine. “We’ll  be the meow of the town.”
“Shut up, Hesta,” Carver groaned. “Bethany, do something.” 
“I’m busy,” Bethany said, trying to mask her giggles. 
“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” 
“Pop, make her shut up.”
“What a bad cat-tiude!”
“Hesta, stop tormenting your brother,” Malcolm conceded. “Paw-lease.” 
“Fine, Pop, but only because you’re so purr-suasive.” 
“Maker help me.” 

Malcolm snorted, settling further back in his chair. Once the kids quieted, he could just pick up the sound of Leandra’s humming leaking in through a window they’d left cracked open. There was a moment in which he felt – Maker, was there even a word for it? Blessed gave a little more credit to the Chantry than he’d care to, and content seemed insufficient. But between his wife’s humming and the fire in the hearth, the girls giggling in the other room and Carver whispering secrets to the kitten asleep on his chest, there was a fullness between his ribs that he’d always been careful not to feel too fully, lest he lose it. 

“Pop,” came the call from the kitchen, this one colored with ease. “Did you hear me? I said we’re finished.” 
“Sorry, kid. I was having a meow-ment.” 

Carver groaned. It wouldn’t be home if he didn’t. 

11 and 15 for Fenris, Lisbet, and Malcom, please!

Oooh these are fun ones. Thanks for asking!

11. What’s playtime like? What kind of games does the character tend to play with the children? Are they GOOD at it? 😀

As soon as he could crawl Malcolm liked to play the game of “How far from Mum and Da can I get before they catch me!” and never quite lost his love of that trick. For a kid who never stops chattering when he’s within eyesight, he can be alarmingly quiet when he’s found a good hiding place and will wait them out for hours before he gets bored or hungry enough to give up on being found.

As he got older though, Malcolm adored every sort of board game, card game, game of skill or chance he could discover. Varric had him playing Wicked Grace (of a sort, gambling being forbidden by Hawke) by age six. Malcolm also HATES to lose at any sort of game, so he’s utterly ruthless. He and Fenris both learned to play chess from Metis (at around the same time…) and did Malcolm ever crow when he managed to beat his grandfather at it before Fenris did! (Metis, for all his gentle good-naturedness, is pretty ruthless in board games too and never would just let the boy(s) win.)

Adding a younger sister, Mara, to the mix meant that playtime involved a lot of make-believe because he could boss his little sister around in assigned roles. Mara’s her brother’s shadow and compliant enough, but she’s nowhere near the natural thespian he is, so playtime also often involved a lot of lecturing Mara about how she was supposed to play a role, while she just looked on thoughtfully.

15. Is there a toy/book/game the character is almost as excited about as the child (or even MORE so than the child? :D)

Lisbet’s very fond of the book of children’s tales Josephine gave her during her first pregnancy, especially one called Andraste’s Gift to the Dragon, but Malcolm never cared for that one near as much as she did. He likes The Big Blue Mabari much more.

Fenris developed a fondness for a set of building-blocks gifted to Malcolm by Aveline and Donnic, and could often be found still carefully aligning some elaborate tiny edifice long after Malcolm had lost interest in playing with Da and run off to pester his mother or find a good hiding place.

Ask me about my characters and their kids!

Number 13 for Malcom, and number 21 for Metis & Kid!Fenris.

Yay, thanks for asking!

13. Does the character have any meaningful items they pass on to their children? Like an old toy, or a piece of jewelry, or some other family heirloom?

Unlike either of his parents, Malcolm grows up to be a Rogue, so he has little use for his parents’ old weapons and such, as if Fenris or Hawke could ever retire enough to pass down their weapons anyway, heh. But one day Fenris sits him down, gives a very serious speech about how Malcolm needs to remember that his actions reflect upon the Hawke/Amell name, etc. etc., most of it went over Malcolm’s head actually, but at the end of it Fenris presented him with the Amell crest that he used to wear along with Hawke’s red favor (the favor, now very tattered, Fenris still wears). Something about this tangible piece of his parents’ history got through to the boy. Malcolm incorporated the heirloom crest into a dagger sheath and just may have kept out of trouble a little more after that.

21. Talk about a time when the children got into trouble!

Hm…well Metis never met Fenris (or even knew he had a son) till he was an adult so can I talk about Metis & kid!Varania? 

I…am totally going to steal a story from my own childhood for Varania, just because my Dad, like Metis, is a gardener and so this was the first thing that came to mind. 😀 Not long before the slaver raid that separated Metis from his wife and little girl, Varania, around three years old at the time*, considering herself a Big Girl Now and ready to pull her own weight in the harvest and help out with the family business and all, went out to the orchard to help collect the apples. She did this by whacking all the branches she could reach with the biggest stick she could find. This might have actually been a clever and effective method, had it not been so early in the season that all the apples were as yet unripe. Metis was uncharacteristically furious at first, for money was tight in those days and every apple counted, but the humor of the situation struck him when he was explaining what had happened to Mara later that night after Varania had been sent to bed early. And at least it wasn’t the peaches.

*I think I was actually four myself when this happened, and it was a baseball bat. I remember nothing of the incident, but Dad sure likes to tell the story. I have no idea why I decided to harvest apples with a baseball bat, but I’m sure Varania had good reason.

Ask me about my characters and their kids!

Help. The allure of is irresistible. I slipped and made Hawkes. 

With the mabari is Lisbet Hawke, my canon Champion. The other two are her and Fenris’ kids, Malcolm and Mara.

(Why is Hawke a cheerleader? It was…the reddest outfit available, I guess?)

Blogger Gatherings!

Click the button for reports from the 2010 Spring Blogger Gathering, hosted by Linett of Nimrodel!

Berethron of Brandywine hosted the 2010 Summer Blogmoot.

The Winter Blogmoot was held on December 4, 9 p.m. EST at the home of Telwen of Silverlode.

Next up: The Spring Blogmoot of 2011 shall return to Nimrodel with Tuiliel (Whart, aka user-1027520) hosting! Linett is looking forward to another local moot!



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