Author's Note: This is a completely revamped edition of my discontinued fic, One More Hawke. With help of my awesome beta, Apollo Wings, you should notice a dramatic increase in the quality of writing and several changes from OMH. I will try my best to keep the plot and major events from the original story intact in this version, but this won't be exactly the same. Specifically, you'll notice right away that the character Lizbeth is now male and named Roderick. All the romances from the first fic will still be present in this one, so they'll be: Roderick/Nathaniel (m/m), Olisa/Cullen (f/m), Marianna/Seamus/Fenris (f/m), Isabela/Merrill (f/f), and Zevran/Orana (f/m). Lots of romances. This is totally a chick fic. :3 Also, I should note that you needn't have read One More Hawke to understand this story. Anywho, let's get on to the new first chapter! :)
…...
Olisa
Olisa is bringing up the rear, urging her family to move along with shouts and pleas – the darkspawn are advancing, and it's her duty as eldest to see to it that they're safe. Her leathers feel damp against her skin, chafing around the shoulders and her midsection as if too small there, when she knows it's just sweat and poor linens beneath that have hiked up beneath or bunched, and she is unable to adjust them in their flight. Why didn't Roderick take Mother and flee long ago? Why did he wait until they returned from the massacre at Ostagar, with the darkspawn at their heels? He had no assurances of their survival from that fateful, rain streaked battle! She, Marianna, and Carver were in no state to be much help at all regardless, wounded and tired as they were. The two warriors out of the triplets especially – Anna and Carver were on the front lines out of the men from the Lothering militia. The militia was decimated; they were lucky to be alive, let alone as lightly wounded as they were. Still, they were hindered by their as of yet, untreated wounds. The warriors had sought out their older sister amongst the line of archers when they saw the King fall. There was no hope. Desertion was the only option they had to save themselves. It was dishonorable, but they didn't want to sacrifice themselves needlessly – Ostagar had fallen, and Lothering would be next to be in the throes of destruction from those cursed beasts. Their prediction, unfortunately true by the time of their arrival.
Olisa takes a quick glance back at the ever approaching darkspwan. She so wishes Roderick had just taken Mother and her mabari, Dagger, and fled. At least they would be safe, but now they're all doomed.
She sees Mother's steps falter, she wasn't made for running this long, and Carver steadies her by her elbow. Olisa signals to her mage-born brother, who in turn doesn't hesitate to let loose a wall of flame against the advancing darkspawn. Olisa's arrows sing and pierce the beasts' eyes with a squelch as the fetid stench of their burning flesh penetrates the air. With the darkspawn down, she turns towards her siblings. They're only safe momentarily, but they need the brief respite. Marianna is panting with her hands on her knees under the weight of her huge double-bearded axe, and that concerns Olisa. Marianna is the fastest runner of the lot of them with the greatest stamina to boot, if she's struggling already then that doesn't bode well. Carver's talking to Mother in quiet tones, for once, his blue eyes filled with worry even if he's trying to hide it well. Roderick is leaning on his enchanted pole-axe, adorned with a mean looking hammer opposite the blade. All the while he's holding a vial of lyrium in hand as he's trying to determine if he needs it or not. He had already used a fair bit of mana as they rushed to escape the overrun village proper while they left their farmhold.
"Take it Roddy," Olisa advises as she wipes the sweat from her brow and she pushes her bangs aside. It seems like she's done nothing but sweat and run with the occasional pull of her bowstring back to stop their pursuers. "We're not out of the woods yet."
He nods, the short, brown tail of his hair bobbing with the movement as he pops the cork with his teeth and downs the contents in one go. His eyes, as blue as the lyrium he drank, glimmer as his mana is restored in a rush. Olisa pats him on the shoulder of his padded leather vest before turning to the rest of her family, "Everyone alright?"
Nods go around as Roderick mumbles from Olisa's side, "We need a plan. We can't just wonder aimlessly."
"We could go to Krikwall," Mother offers as she leaves her youngest by mere minute's side, and walks tiredly towards the rest of her children. "We have family there – an estate!"
"There are Templars there, Mother," Marianna scowls as she straightens her chestplate. "Roderick's a mage, lest you forget, and Father always said that city was crawling with those lyrium-addled brutes."
"What choice do we have?" Carver huffs at his eldest triplet, wiping a rivulet of sweat off his furrowed brow. "There's darkspawn everywhere! We don't have a chance if we stay!"
Olisa examines her taller albeit younger mage brother. He could pass for a swordsman. Thank the Maker he's never been foolish enough to try and wear robes. "Roderick's a warrior," she looks at everyone pointedly. "He wields a blade, not magic, got it?"
Roderick nods and smirks, the edges of his mouth crinkling briefly, "What magic?"
Olisa allows herself to smile briefly too. "We should go, before more darkspawn try to eat us." She nods her head forward. "We can catch a ship in Gwaren. A shaky plan's better than no plan after all, and a roof over our heads is better than a lean in some Maker-forsaken alley."
They head up the hill before them, Carver aiding the siblings' mother, and Olisa's mabari warhound taking point. There's a rustling in the shrubbery ahead, and all six stop as grunts and the clang of metal on metal reaches their ears. Olisa edges into the shadows along the treeline, and spies a warrior with flaming red hair and another with raven locks battling a group of darkspawn. She quickly pads back to her family, and urges Dagger to protect Leandra as the siblings go forward to aid the outnumbered unknown warriors after she quickly makes the gesture for only those fighting to follow her. Olisa stands atop the hill in the long shadow of an oak tree as her three younger siblings remove their blades and rush towards the tainted beasts. Roderick may not have been at Ostagar as the others, but he's quickly learned how to best the darkspawn. He's remembered not to use his magic either, as she watches him use his pole-axe blade to fell a 'spawn, where he would normally use a flame. Olisa pulls the string back taut on her longbow, the wire digging into the leather pads of her gloves, and releases her red-fletched arrow on an exhale into the neck of the darkspawn swinging a bastardsword at her only sister. Marianna finishes the 'spawn attacking her with a downward gutting of the beast, at the same time Olisa lets loose another painted arrow into the poorly armored shoulder of a darkspawn slashing at the ginger warrior. Carver finishes the last 'spawn with a pommel hit of his broadsword to the face, and a quick and efficient decapitation to the stunned enemy.
Olisa takes a skeptical look at the ginger-haired warrior. She's a woman in heavy plate emblazoned with a regal lion – possibly a shield maiden, or at least one of the royal guard by way of the lion. Another deserter, quitter of the field. It seems deserters find each other without rhyme, reason nor much hope. She watches as the woman helps the other stranger to stand, and Olisa momentarily freezes as she notices the Sword of Mercy gracing his chestplate – a Templar. Her deep brown eyes flick over to Roderick. The normally sweet and happy young man's face is pulled into a harsh frown, his utter disbelief at their situation marring it. His knuckles are white around the lyrium-weaved grip of his pole-axe, and Marianna takes a step protectively in front of him with her impressive dual-bladed axe still drawn. Thankfully, Roderick's magic wasn't revealed in this battle.
Olisa looks to Carver, "See that Mother's safe." The warrior scowls at the offhand order, but hurries after his mother nonetheless. If she knows her warrior brother half as well as she did, she'd still know he'd think the order given to him on purpose rather than Roddy or Anna. Olisa looks to the strangers again, and moves closer to Anna and Roddy as she does so. "Are you friend or foe, strangers?"
"Friend," the Templar gasps, clutching his left side as blood covers his thick leather gauntlet, dripping over his fingers slowly – so not fatal if they're out of the darkspawn taken lands soon enough. "Thank the Maker for your timely arrival."
"I am Aveline Vallen," the woman introduces herself, "And this is my husband, Ser Wesley." Olisa raises a brow at the couple. She didn't know Templars married, nor that anyone would care to marry a Templar either. She was sure they had to remain chaste after all – married to the Maker. They were responsible for Father's death, as well, and couldn't be trusted around even mage-blooded people such as herself, Marianna or Carver with their bigoted views on magical inheritance. They'd more than likely be culled than allowed the possibility to have children of their own in case of passing down the gift of magic.
"We're the Hawkes," she turns to acknowledge Carver, Dagger, and her mother briefly, "We're seeking ship in Gwaren. You can join us if you want. Safety in numbers, and all that." The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Olisa almost smiles at remembering the proverb. You had to keep friends close but enemies closer in times of desperation lest you receive a dagger to the kidneys. If the Templar doesn't get wind of Roderick's abilities while traveling together, then it's possible that he'd be safe in the City of Chains too. A test, but needed to make sure her family stays safe.
"Are you sure that's wise, sister?" She can feel Carver's scowl on the back of her head. "We don't know them."
"But they have blades," she turns to the young warrior. "More darkspawn dead, the better I say."
"This is pointless," Aveline sighs. "The way north is overrun. We had to turn back."
"Blast. That just leaves us with the Wilds," Marianna shakes her head as she places her axe onto her back. "We can try to avoid the horde, but..." she shrugs.
"We have to try something," Mother visibly shakes in fear. "If we can just get around the darkspawn-"
"I say we try," Aveline interrupts. "The lady's right, we haven't much choice."
"We still have east toward Gwaren you know." Olisa puts it dryly – as if only two directions remained for travel. That or west which would take them away from the south-eastern Teyrnir.
Minds made up, the group alters their path. They can only hope that they find safety.
Unfortunately they head right towards more darkspawn, one of which is an ogre. The beast is huge with a frame completely comprised of grotesque corded muscles of grey flesh. The creature is bigger than any such darkspawn the archer had ever seen before. Marianna and Carver had said that the King was killed by an ogre, but she hadn't really thought on what that meant – she was too focused on fleeing the horde. And now she's too focused on the menacing horns and rancid spittle seeming to coat the creature, as it streams thick from its mouth to create slick muscles no boot could find proper purchase on. She freezes, as impossible as that seems to the archer, she can't seem to force her muscles to cooperate with her mind. Her thoughts are screaming for her to move, but she can't. The ogre roars, and seems intent on her over all others but still she feels crippled with fear, the sweat that sticks over her body clammy and cold, the pinch of leather and bunched under-linens like heavy iron stocks and chains.
"Sister!" She hears someone shout through the white-noise drowning her ears, "Sister! You have to run!"
Her feet won't move. She doesn't know what's wrong. The ogre's charging, and she's hyperventilating, having a panic attack, and she just can't move. She's unable to save herself – the horned darkspawn is sweeping one meaty arm her way... and then something hits her. She's flung along the packed earth on her sweat-damp leathers with enough force to land her several feet away. Something hit her hard, but she's not dead. Far from it as she gasps and shatters the rhetorical irons around her body, only to peer up at her savior in time to see them scooped up by that meaty hand that was so intent on her. Her savior, her brother, Carver. He's yelling, cursing at the darkspawn in a feeble attempt to have its hold around his body loosen. His greatsword was dropped, and it seems his armor isn't able to protect him from that darkspawn's unholy strength. The ogre squeezes and Caver screams terribly in pain – pain that Olisa was so sure she was going to feel, and not her dear youngest brother. Someone who she loves so much. Someone who she's sworn to protect, and yet he's hurting because he protected her. The weight of that hangs heavy in her heart as she forces every coherent muscle and fiber of her being to act according to her will.
Roderick seems to have forgone any desire to hide his magical talent in front of a Templar, and lets loose fireball after fireball at the ogres legs. The ogre merely stomps until the packed earth shakes and the mage falls back, struggling with his concentration of spells to have righted himself with the shaking, and it squeezes Carver harder, causing him to choke and cry out in worse pain. When Olisa finally regains her control of her traitorously uncooperative body, she's completely horrified and focused on stopping that Blighted ogre, she notches two arrows into her bow and pierces the neck of the Maker-forsaken beast. It's only an irritation to the ogre, but it does get it to release her brother – Carver is thrown, and does not move from the boulder he was unceremoniously dumped at. The pain that stabs Olisa in the gut as she looks to her gore-covered warrior brother and sees him unmoving, is the same kind of pain she felt when she had held her father's corpse years ago. Fury blinds her vision – she needs to kill that ogre. The only impulse she has is to have that ogre as still as he is, as if by doing that Carver will move again. As if the end of a fight would mean all wounds disappear and everything's alright in the world once more.
She yells to Roderick to fall back to her position, no need for him to get scooped up too – his magic has been exposed, and he can very well use it from a distance. Marianna though, she has to get in close to the ogre, but at least she has the shield maiden there to help her. And where is that Blasted Templar? Shouldn't he be trying to stop this thing too?
Her train of thought stops as the ogre pounds a mighty fist into the earth just a couple feet from Marianna, and the hit was so close that the warrior falters, the earth beneath her feet slanting dangerously. Olisa, not daring to lose another sibling, coats one of her arrowtips in the poison extracted from a Wilds'-toad, by cracking the thin poison-filled vial from her leg-pouch over the tip. The poison is strong enough to knock three full-grown men down, and she hopes it will at least weaken the ogre enough that they have a chance. It's only mortal and experience told her that if you can cripple something it can be killed – this wouldn't be in vain! She takes her time and a steadying breath before she carefully aims her shot at the ogre's vulnerable eye. It lands true, and the ogre roars in pain at the bolt rupturing the soft tissue of its eye. Olisa counts to five and the ogre sways, taking knee – the poison works. She doesn't waste time, and instead focuses her shots to the darkspawn stragglers approaching and intent on protecting the ogre. The other three able-bodied persons, warrior and mage, focus their combined strengths on the weakened ogre. By the time Olisa readies her fourth-to-last arrow, she sees the black ichor of the ogre's blood leaking from several gashes on its arms and legs. Burn-marks adorn its face and chest – the skin completely charred along its stomach, and Olisa eagerly targets her arrow to the already ruptured and blackened eye she had shot before. She pulls back on her bowstring with all her strength, near ripping the leather of her glove in her fervency, and the arrow flies with enough speed and power to pin a man to a tree, she feels. The beast bellows and falls to both knees, and from beside Olisa, Roderick focuses his power to manifest a stone fist hard enough to crush the ogre's windpipe – killing the weakened creature with his magic.
There are no cheers of victory however, as the remaining Hawke siblings all look to the crumpled body of their fallen sibling. Mother is weeping over his unmoving body with Dagger ever-vigilant at her side. The siblings all move slowly towards her, the shield-maiden seeking out her husband, and grieve silently at their loss. Carver might have been the youngest of them, but he was well known to be the bravest. And he sacrificed himself for his sister's sake. The most noble of them by far for that gesture.
"Mother," Olisa whispers in a watery voice – knowing she's not able to comfort her mother, and dreading what she must say. "Carver's with Father now, Mother... We... we have to go, before the darkspawn-"
"He's your brother!" Mother says angrily at her eldest. "We can't just leave him!"
"We can't stay and let the darkspawn take us either," Marianna tries to reason in a voice laden with anguish. She too – knows that carrying a corpse will hinder their own efforts to live. It's a bitter pill to swallow.
"We can make a ceremonial pyre for him in Kirkwall," Roderick offers softly, "There's nothing we can do for him now."
They hear an in-human shriek, and all turn to see more than a dozen darkspawn quickly advancing. Olisa touches her remaining arrows in her quiver – she only has three feathered shafts left that she can feel. Maker's breath, they're not going to make it to build that pyre. This slice of tainted mud might be their communal graves… it likely would be actually. Maker preserve her if the hatred of herself for letting Carver sacrifice himself for her, but she might welcome it if only to say thanks to him on the other side of the Veil.
…...
Author's Note: Another thanks to Apollo Wings, for all the beta-ing put into this chapter and bumping the quality up a few notches!
