There was an eerie silence. The only sound Fenris could hear was the crackle and popping of the charred skeleton in front of him, the heavy breathing of Carver on his right, and the blood rushing in his ears. The sight in front of him and his companions had shocked them and every templar surrounding them into profound quiet as they observed the twisted figured of the former Knight Commander.
"Is she...is she lyrium?" Merrill, the blood mage, asked. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. There was blood dripping from her palm into the cobblestones. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was looking at the back of Hawke's head. Hawke hadn't moved. Her fingers were still gripped so tightly on her staff that her knuckles were white. A breeze caught the strands dark hair that had come loose during the battle. Fenris could smell the smoke on the wind. The city was burning while they stood here. They had to move, they had to go now.
"Hawke." He called quietly. She looked over her shoulder at him immediately, as she always did when he called. Her lyrium blue eyes were weary. He hadn't noticed prior, but her other arm was pressed to a wound just above her ribs. That wound was dangerously close to her heart and whatever weapon had caused it had cut through the chainmail she wore. It was still bleeding through her fingers, but slowly. It wouldn't be fatal then and she'd probably already begun to heal it. He had to check though, he couldn't lose her. Not after all this, not now.
His first step toward Hawke broke whatever spell had held all the templars still. His second step brought a woman in armor running toward the Knight Commander's skeleton. His third step brought him close enough to touch Hawke, to run his fingers through the fur at her neck and feel the blood matted there from a scratch on her neck. He peeled away her hand as she winced. Her eyes jumped from him to the glowing skeleton, then back to him as her checked the wound. "Venhedis." Fenris swore. The stab wound was deeper than he thought.
"Ah, for a moment I thought you'd never swear at me again." Hawke whispered, her lips quirking just a bit.
"Heal it." Fenris commanded. Hawke shook her head.
"I've done what I can for now. I'm out of mana, I'm out of lyrium. It won't kill me before you do."
Fenris swore again and turned to the blood mage. She shook her head. "I used my last lyrium potion."
"Here." Carver was beside his sister now. Fenris noted that his shining Warden armor was streaked with soot and dented in several locations. He popped the cork on a healing potion, pressing it into Hawke's hand. Hawke took it with shaky fingers, downing it in one swallow.
The templar who had been kneeling in front of the former Knight Commander, or the monster she had turned into, looked up at the Knight Captain. There was something hopeless in that glance. Hawke let out a hiss, her eyes flicking around them. They were surrounded by templars, most likely what was left of the templar order. They were exhausted, out of supplies, and out of options. At the very best, they had stopped a madwoman with two apostates in their group. At the very worst, they had led an armed insurrection by siding with these mages.
"They'll make her tranquil." Anders had taunted during one trip to the Wounded Coast. Isabella and Hawke had been up ahead. Their heads had been pressed almost together, occasionally Fenris could hear giggling. Fenris was trying desperately not to show how much he adored that sound, Hawke's laughter ringing on the cliffs. He couldn't stop himself from being mesmerized by the sway of Hawke's hips in her leathers.
"There is no reason to make her tranquil. Hawke is not a danger." Fenris replied as evenly as possible. Hawke would be upset if he fought with the abomination. He did leave the words "unlike you" unsaid. They hung in the air like fog.
"You will betray her. You will turn her over to the templars. They'll make her tranquil and she'll never laugh again. You'll have no one but yourself to blame." Anders had a patronizing tone that made Fenris want to turn and plunge his fist into his chest. He let out a low growl of warning.
"Fenris!" Hawke yelled back to them. He looked up and his heart caught in his throat at the sight of her milk and honey skin, flushed pink with delight. She was wearing a wide grin the way lesser women wore diamonds. She was a vision. "You'll never guess what Bela is trying to get me to tell her about you!"
He couldn't help himself or the low chuckle that escaped his mouth as he picked up his pace to leave the abomination behind. "I'm sure it has something to do with my smallclothes." He answered easily. Isabela cackled and Hawke continued to grin. As he caught up to the two women, he let his gauntleted hand pass slowly over Hawke's hip. Just a casual touch, common between two lovers. Isabela didn't even common on it, she continued on her mission to determine the color of what Fenris wore under his armor. Hawke's eyes took on a molten heat as she looked up at him, before tearing her eyes away and focusing back on Isabela.
Fenris spared a glance over his shoulder at the sullen figure in his new black robes. Anders was glaring at the gauntlet on Fenris's left hand like it had called his mother a whore. Amber eyes flicked up to meet his own. Fenris glared back cooly. This mage wanted what Fenris had, that was all. But Hawke didn't laugh for Anders, he wasn't able to touch her heart, and Anders had never heard her moan his name while buried inside her. Anders had tried to crawl into Fenris's place multiple times, but had never been able to. So Fenris simply turned away from the abomination and enjoyed the freedom of the day with Hawke on his left, where she belonged.
If Fenris had known then what Anders would do, he'd have turned back to the mage and ripped his heart out of his chest and spat on it. Fenris knew that the mage was dangerous, he should have stopped him. Why hadn't he stopped him? Now Hawke, his Hawke, was surrounded by templars. If anything happened to her, the blood would be on Anders's hands as surely as the hundred of dead littering the Gallows and Kirkwall's streets.
Knight Captain Cullen was looking at Hawke. Hawke was staring back at him. Around them, swords were drawn. Despite his exhaustion, Fenris felt his marking burn weakly as he shifted into a defensive stance. His sword hovered in front of Hawke, a dare to any who would approach him. Hawke's hand reached out, fingers still covered in her wet, warm blood. Her small fingers closed around his arm tightly, but she was still looking at Cullen.
"Cullen, not them." She whispered. "Me if you have to, but not them. Please."
Fenris's marks glowed brighter, a flash of fury and power. How like her, he thought. Before he could say anything, another voice cut in.
"No!" Varric half shouted. Fenris heard him shift Bianca and felt a rush of affection for his friend, his diamondback partner. Cullen took a breath, the whole world seemed to tilt precariously on its axis. Fenris realized for the first time, he had never actually told Hawke he loved her. She knew, she had to know, but Fenris had never formed the words with his mouth even though she had many times.
Cullen sheathed his sword. There was another terrible moment no longer than a heartbeat when he stepped back and none of the other templars did that Fenris thought they would disobey the signal. Finally, he heard the rattling of swords being slid into scabbards. Hawke released a breath he hadn't realized she had been holding. "Go." Cullen said, turning to the skeleton glowing brightly red. "Maker's breath. Go."
Fenris didn't have to be told twice. Hawke swayed with uncertainty, but he had twisted to grab her arm now. He didn't put away his sword, although if he had to drag her it would certainly hinder him to fight one handed. Varric backed out slowly, Bianca only slightly lowered. Isabela dashed ahead. Merrill was limping, putting as much of her weight as possible on her staff. Carver shouldered past Hawke and Fenris, sweeping the blood mage up in his arms as she sputtered ineffectively in gratitude. Aveline brought up the rear, shield and sword still out and eyes darting warily.
Isabela's hands were like lighting as she began to ready the small dingy they'd stolen to get to the Gallows in the first place. Fenris shifted to help Hawke into the boat, she was short even for a woman. He tossed her staff in after her, then swung himself in as well. Aveline wasn't even settled in before Isabela was shoving off, adjusting the sails.
"So sweetness." Isabela began. "Do you know how I was waiting for something really exciting to happen before I left Kirkwall? I think I'm over it."
Varric snorted. "Honestly Rivaini, I'm willing to bet Kirkwall is over us."
"Where will you go?" Hawke asked, kneeling beside Merrill and Carver and gently taking Merrill's leg. She sighed as she looked at it, shaking her head.
"Is it very bad Hawke?" Merrill asked.
"No Merrill. But I'm afraid I can't do anything now. I'm sorry." Hawke paused, swallowing hard. "I'm so sorry about everything." She said again.
"Yes, it was your idea to blow up the chantry. I forgot about that." Fenris commented.
"Well now, sweetness." Isabela cut in. "I've been thinking I need some additional crew members. We'll figure out where to go next, but I think this is the time for a proper escape. For all of us."
"Sister, you can't stay here." Carver interrupted. "There will be more templars. They will be out for revenge."
"Don't forget choir-boy." Varric's lips were pressed together in a thin line of displeasure. "He wasn't happy. I don't think he was lying Hawke, at the very least you need to disappear until he has a chance to reconsider."
Hawke slowly looked around her companions. This motley group made up of misfits and pariahs. She bit her lip, releasing a deep sigh. "Aveline, I thought I said I'd never flee a burning city again."
Aveline smiled sadly. "This time I won't be going with you Hawke. I must stay here, with Donnic. We have a duty to the people here to keep them safe. When the templars come… I'll throw them off your trail. I swear."
Hawke hadn't cried. Tears sprung to her eyes now, although she didn't let them fall. "Besides Carver, you're the only one left. The only one who remembers Bethany, the only one who knows about Lothering."
"And you two are all I have left of Wesley." Aveline replied simply, reaching for Hawke's hand and squeezing. "You will come home someday Hawke, I believe in you. I always have."
Hawke took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the tears were gone. Her blue eyes were determined. "Well. I suppose we're fugitives then."
"I have had practice at least." Fenris responded wryly. Hawke sighed and put her head in her hands as Varric let out a low laugh.
"The Wardens will want me back soon, but I can help you get out of the city." Carver offered glumly. "You can drop me somewhere and I'll make my way back after."
"They'll be angry with you, won't they?" Merrill inquired.
"Maybe." Carver shrugged, his eyes on the Gallows as it receded and Kirkwall's harbor came into view. "But some things are more important."
Isabela swore that she could round up her crew and what remaining supplies she needed in an hour. She brought them to the ship, then vanished with Varric in tow. Varric stated he needed to see what could be salvaged from his suite at the Hanged Man.
"Orana is in the estate all alone." Hawke stated. "People could break in. She could be in danger."
"Fasta vass." Fenris swore. "You're right. I'll go. Stay here."
"Wait! No! I'm coming with you." Hawke contradicted.
"No you are not." Fenris argued, pushing his hands through his hair. "The city is a powder keg. If riots haven't started yet, they will. The people will be hunting mages, and there is a very large chance they will turn on their champion and forget all the good you've done for this city."
Hawke opened her mouth to continue arguing, then shut it. Her hand went unconsciously to her abdomen, to where the Arishok's sword had impaled her. Her eyes traveled to where the chantry once loomed above the city, then back to Fenris. "You won't come back. I've made you a fugitive again and you won't come back. I wouldn't blame you, not really." She tried to crack a smile. "I wouldn't come back to me either."
Fenris had left her once. He flinched at the memory, she'd looked the same then. Vulnerable and alone. "Reyna." He whispered. Her eyes closed and he took her cheek gently, careful with his gauntlets on her sensitive skin. "Reyna Hawke. Nothing in this world or the fade could keep me from your side now." He lowered his voice, tipping her chin up and kissing her softly. "I love you." He whispered against her lips.
She jumped like she had been electrocuted, blue eyes flying open. He couldn't help the small smile. "I will return. Keep the ship safe for us."
"I will stay with you." Aveline volunteered. "Until you leave. I'll try to keep order here."
"Merrill has potions and supplies in the alienage." Carver stated, her arm around his neck now. "We'll go get them, then meet back here. In an hour."
Fenris was only looking at Hawke as he nodded in agreement. "One hour."
The situation in the city was deteriorating by the moment. Halfway through Lowtown, he had to cut his way through the first mob looting the merchant stalls. He was unable to take his normal route into hightown because it was clogged with debris. Carta members were industriously making off with anything that wasn't nailed down.
The Hawke estate hadn't been touched yet. He opened the door, then slammed it shut behind him. It was a blessing that Bodahn and Sandal had left last week. If only Orana would have left with them.
"Messere Fenris!" Orana called from the balcony. "Where is Messere Hawke? Is she hurt? Will she be okay?" Orana was scurrying down the steps, eyes wide and frightened. She had to be badly shaken to be running towards Fenris, typically he made her as anxious as blood magic made him.
"The abomination blew up the chantry." Fenris tried to remain calm, to not growl, to not startle her. He kept his hands where she could see them, putting away his weapon. Orana's eyes grew even wider. "Hawke is okay. We have to leave, Orana. People will be hunting her."
"Slavers?" Orana squeaked, bringing her hands up to her mouth.
"In a manner of speaking." Fenris was too exhausted to explain. "They could come to the estate looking for us. You're in danger. We need to go."
"Go where?" She asked. Fenris was startled by this question, and more startled that he hadn't thought of it. Vehendis, where would she go? They couldn't ask her to go on the run with them. Orana was an admirable cook, a great housekeeper, and utterly devoted to Hawke. She wasn't a fighter.
"Where do you want to go?" Fenris asked, feeling more stupid when she looked confused. She'd been free for three years, but he'd been free for much longer and sometimes he still felt the chains. He took a deep breath.
"You can come with us, but it will be hard. We don't know where we will go or who will follow. We will probably have to fight our way out of the Free Marches. You can stay in the city, but not here. I can give you money, you can pack a bag, and I can take you to the alienage. Many don't know you and you won't be in danger if you're not here. Aveline is staying in the city and she will look out for you."
Orana still looked puzzled. He took his gauntleted hand and slowly, lightly put it on her shoulder. She didn't flinch. "Pack a bag and think about what you want to do. I need to gather supplies. I will escort you safely wherever you wish, but we must hurry."
Orana nodded, scurrying away. Fenris took the steps as quickly as he could. There was a supply pack under the bed, they took it to Sundermont or the Wounded Coast sometimes. He grabbed his few belongings first, although he still had clothes at the dilapidated mansion he was still stubbornly staying at three nights a week, there would be no going there for them. He grabbed the clothes he had available, the the Book of Shartan (besides the Blade of Mercy, his most prized possession), and his weapon polish. Then he grabbed some of Hawke's tunics, breeches, a few skirts and blouses, a dress. From the casket near her bed he pulled out the most prized things, her parents' wedding rings and a pendant that had belonged to Bethany, plus a dagger with a hilt the same color of her eyes (this had been his first Satinalia gift to anyone, the first gift he'd ever given her). There was some elfroot wrapped in paper and three small bottles of a lyrium potion that always buzzed uncomfortably in his hand. He filled his coin purse up as much as he could, then filled another. Gold meant nothing to Hawke, but they may need it, and Orana would too.
She had been quick, which he approved of. She had a cloak on and one thrown over her arm. This one was Hawke's, he recognized the white fur lining the hood. There was a pack over her shoulder and a basket slung over her arm. She was stroking the fur nervously as she waited.
"I cannot fight Messere. I would not help if I went, would I?" She asked, trembling with emotion. Fenris wouldn't lie to her, he shook his head. She let out a breath. "Then I will go to the alienage, but you must take care of her. You must promise!" She demanded, clutching the basket even tighter.
"I will Orana. I promise." He swore solemnly. She nodded, accepting, as he led the way to the door.
He had Orana by the elbow, guiding her around the worst of the riots that had begun to break out. Windows were being smashed, chants were rising up. Fenris heard "Death to all mages!" from a drunken dwarf and felt a chill up his spine. Orana stiffened next to him.
He hadn't needed to fight his way back through to Lowtown, it seemed most of the flow of traffic was going towards Hightown. Arriving at the alienage though, he was confronted with a desperate looking Carver. "Fenris!" He called.
"What are you still doing here?" Fenris hissed, letting go of Orana.
"They won't let humans in." Carver confessed, glaring at the gate. "Merrill went in alone, but she hasn't come out. I can't get in, what if she is hurt too badly to come back?" Carver questioned.
"I will get the blood mage." He growled, cursing his luck. "Go back to the boat, the rioting is getting worse in Hightown. I pray the docks are not as bad." Carver hesitated just long enough to irritate Fenris. Fenris let loose a stream of Tevinter cussing that made Orana's ears go pink. "I will not leave her, get to your sister you great oaf!"
Carver backed away, then spun on his heel, taking off to the docks and Fenris pounded on the alienage gates. An elf appeared, then cracked the gate. "Fehendis!" The elf swore. "Get in here!"
Fenris took Orana's elbow once more and guided her past the vhenadahl tree. "You can stay in Merrill's home." Fenris said gently. "You'll be safe there for now."
He didn't bother knocking, opening the door. The first room was quiet, an abandoned pack laying on the table. "Make yourself at home." Fenris said, disappearing around the corner.
Merrill was staring at her mirror, as he knew she would be. His marks flashed in irritation again and their reflection in the mirror caught the blood mage's attention. "Fenris! By the dread wolf! How long have I been standing here?"
"Too long." Fenris growled, avoiding looking at the mirror. "Are you coming or staying? We have to go."
"I can't believe he did that. All those people. Banal nadas." Merrill sniffed. "But he was the monster he always said he would become."
"Yes." Fenris could say nothing else. "He was."
"I will not be that!" Merrill was vehement, reaching out to touch the eluvian. "I will not become a monster."
"We cannot take that thing with us." Fenris scowled at the back of Merrill's head.
"No, we cannot. And we should not." Merrill closed her eyes. "I am going to do something I should have done a long time ago."
Fenris didn't expect what came next. Merrill pulled her hand away from the mirror, raising her fingers up, then snapped them. Cracks formed in the mirror, then it shattered, the pieces falling to dust at her feet. A broken sob escaped her as she keeled almost forward. Fenris swore again under his breath and rushed forward, grabbing her around her waist.
"That was most likely the wisest thing you have ever done." It was the most praise he had ever given the blood mage, and she knew it. She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Carver is waiting for you."
Merrill nodded, she was still limping, but not as badly. Fenris saw a discarded potion bottle on the ground, she must have had a health potion stashed here. She paused momentarily when she saw Orana, but then nodded in understanding. "Ir abelas, for the mess." She said shyly.
"Here." Fenris pulled out the second coin purse, pressing it into Orana's hand. "This is yours. And when it is safe, feel free to take Aveline back to the estate and take whatever you require."
"Thank you messere." Orana said softly. "Vitae benefaria, Fenris."
"Vitae benefaria, Orana." He inclined his head, in a small bow. Then he pushed Merrill out the door.
There must have been a hundred people at the docks. Were they all trying to flee? What if the ship had sailed? His mouth went dry at the thought of Hawke, adrift without him. But they were going down the steps, halfway down now, and there was the ship. Isabela was at the helm, her crew scurrying over riggings. Aveline was handing boxes up to Carver, who was slinging them behind him. Hawke was at the rigging, a perfect job for her small size, untangling the lines. He kept Merrill in front of him, but Fenris knew he stood out in a crowd. If Hawke were to turn and look, she would see them.
Varric saw them first, his hand raising in greeting. They were not far now, Fenris could swear he heard Isabela yelling. Varric turned, to tell Hawke they were coming he was sure, but then froze. His eyes were fixed on something, someone behind him. Fenris felt a cold shiver up his spine. He turned, gripping his sword tightly. Merrill whirled with him.
Anders was several steps above them. His eyes were glowing, fade blue. Fenris felt red clouding his vision. Blood lust for the abomination. He could kill him, rip out his heart, present it to Hawke on a silver platter for all the pain, for the betrayal. Except, except… Hawke had his life in her hands and had chosen to send him away rather than sully her hands with his blood.
"May the dread wolf take you!" Merrill yelled.
"Go to the ship." Fenris commanded, pushing Merrill back behind him.
"Not without you." Merrill persisted stubbornly.
"She sided with the mages. Despite your undue influence, she sided with the mages." Anders mouth curved into a smirk.
Fenris lost his fragile control, charging. Anders didn't stop him. This gave him pause as he broughT his sword up to the abominations neck, his hand phasing through the mage's ribcage, clutching around the still beating heart. Enough to hurt...but not to kill.
"You did this." Fenris growled. "You almost killed her."
"So end me." Anders coughed, grinning up at him. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. "Show her what a wild dog does."
This was what he wanted. Was Hawke watching? Had she jumped from the rigging, racing to his side to stop him? Would she be too late? Merrill tugged on his gauntlet. "No Fenris. Not now. Not like this."
Fenris spat on the mage, allowing Merrill to pull him back. "Your life was hers to give or take today. Next time I see you, it will be mine. Do not come near us again, or I swear you will beg for your death."
Fenris let go of Ander's heart. Anders doubled over, coughing. Merrill pulled him, quickly through the crowd, until he lost sight of the mage. He looked back toward the boat. Hawke wasn't watching, but Varric, Carver, and Aveline were. They all wore mixed expressions. As Carver grabbed for Merrill, he looked at Fenris.
"You should have done it." He said. "I would have."
"Perhaps." Fenris answered.
"You're here! Cut the line, Aveline!" Isabela yelled. Aveline met Hawke's eyes, smiling softly. Hawke jumped from the rigging, landing rather too hard, and raced to Fenris's side, leaning over the edge of the ship.
"Goodbye my friends." Aveline said, swinging her sword through the rope with one swoop. Fenris allowed his arms to curl around Hawke's waist as the ship began to move.
"Andraste's tits, they're raising the chains." Varric pointed to the gears on either side of the harbor. There were people there, struggling with the heavy machinery.
"Those nug humpers!" Isabela roared. "Men, let's move!"
"Fenris, did you grab the lyrium potions? From my room?" Hawke asked, her eyes clear. Fenris opened the bag, and she dived for the glowing blue vial. She uncorked it and tossed it back placing the cork back in the bottle. "Isabela! Prepare for a strong wind!" She yelled.
Isabela didn't ask questions, she raced toward the sails. She yanked and pulled, until they were right where she wanted them. Hawke took a deep breath, Fenris felt the pull of her magic, and when she let out her breath, a gust of wind blew past them, straight into the sails. Isabela let out a throaty whoop as they raced past the chains, out into the open water.