Never Alone
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"Anders, look at me," she begged as ash continued to rain down upon them, from the ruins of the Chantry he had just destroyed. "Please, love" she said, her voice breaking.
He finally looked up at her, those amber eyes once so full of life now dark and devoid of all emotion. He looked as broken as she felt. She crouched down in front of him, her hand reaching up to cup his face despite the anger rising in her throat. She wanted to scream at him, to hurt him the way he had hurt her, but how could she when he looked so haunted? So lost?
He hadn't always looked at her like that. There had been a time when there was love in those bright amber depths. There was a time when he was happy. She could remember their first kiss like it was yesterday. She'd only come to check in on him. He was so often lost in his work at the clinic that she would sometimes go weeks without seeing him. In those times, she would try to think up any sort of excuse to visit, she even took the most daring jobs she could find, in hopes she might get hurt or have a good enough reason to bring him along with her. The rest of the time, she fantasised about him, imagining him touching her, kissing her, whispering in her ear. If Bethany were still alive she would have kicked her ass into telling him sooner about how she felt about him.
That day she had finally had enough and decided to go say hi, friends could say hi to friends, after all. She couldn't remember what they had discussed before the kiss. It was immaterial compared to the scorching lips that had engulfed her in flame, and flooded her with joy. When he had pulled away there had been so much longing in his eyes, so much love, and she had been lost to him from that day forward.
She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. "Is… is this what you want?" she quietly asked, her fingers grazing his stubble. "You…want me to end it for you?"
His brow furrowed slightly. "I warned you that I would hurt you." He stared down at the ground. "What I've done…It cannot go unpunished."
She lifted his chin, urging him to look at her again. "You could fight, help me to save the mages."
His eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. "I cannot control him, love. It has to end." Her hand dropped away from his face and she bit on her trembling lip.
She blinked back her own tears but one slipped down her cheek; his finger wiped it away with a tender caress and she leaned into his touch. "How did it come to this?" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.
"This is how it was always going to end. I hope that, in time, you forgive me for hurting you." She lifted her hand to cup his as a sob escaped her lips. "For what it's worth," he continued. "I'm glad it's you. At least I was happy…for a while."
Their happiness had been blinding at first, both of them unable to wipe the grins from their faces. It didn't last long. The honeymoon phase they called it. Theirs had ended after a few weeks, once he had moved in, before the rows, arguments and fights had begun. He was always at the clinic or writing his manifesto, whilst she was out risking her life, saving the city. They tried to carve out time in their busy schedules to see one another but they were both very troubled people. Anders had Justice, a constant presence in his mind telling him Hawke was a distraction, and Hawke had lost everyone she had ever cared about; her father, Bethany, Carver in the Deep Roads, her mother… Isabela had betrayed and abandoned her, Fenris had fucked her and left in the middle of the night, Aveline barely spoke to her and Merrill hated her. So, she buried herself in work in an attempt to distract herself from the pain.
They had thought not discussing polarising topics or how they were truly feeling would help their happiness to last, instead it just bottled their problems up until they erupted in a violent explosion. Between the hardships they had faced and the problems they had, there had been moments of tenderness, of love and of happiness. Her heart belonged to him and his to her. Or so she had thought, as his heart had always belonged to the cause, first and foremost. Nothing would ever be as important to him as freedom for mages. She should have known that. Should have figured out what he had been planning, so many were dead because she hadn't seen, because she hadn't been fast enough.
She leaned in and kissed him - their last kiss. She found some comfort in the fact that he tasted as he always did, a little of lyrium and honey. He smelled of elfroot too, and some herbs that she could never quite identify.
He didn't kiss back at first but she needed him to, wanted him to. She wouldn't be able to do this without his help. She dragged her fingers through his golden strands, caked in ash, and found the tie at the back of his head. She pulled his hair free, letting it fall around his face as she kneaded his scalp. Finally, he kissed her back, achingly slowly, with all the compassion and tenderness he possessed. She could taste her tears and perhaps his as well as she clung to him.
Her hand rested on the hilt of her knife as her fingers curled around it, gripping it tight. She tugged on his hair, deepening their kiss as she slowly lifted the dagger. It came to rest over his heart, whilst she took a strangled breath. Her eyes opened to see his watching her. He glanced down at the blade, a sad smile touching his lips.
"I love you," he croaked, his hand joining hers around the knife's hilt.
"I love you too." She leaned in and kissed him again, her tongue pushing into his mouth greedily, desperate for him.
Together, they plunged the knife into his heart. He gasped against her lips, his whole body stilling. Her eyes opened and found his open too, the colour dimming.
She swallowed hard. "I'll join you soon, my love," she uttered as she pulled the blade back out. His breath left him in a rush as he fell forward into her arms. She pulled him into her lap, gripping him tightly and sobbed into his chest, her hands clutching his bloodied robes. As she pulled back she found his dead, colourless eyes staring up at her and she knew that he was gone. He had been for a long time and now so was she.
She had stopped the Circle being annulled at least and the Qunari invasion too. She hadn't completely failed but she had failed where it mattered most - with her family. She was the only one left. They were all up there at the Maker's side and she was down here, alone. Well, not completely alone, Varric wasn't far away from her; he was back at camp with the two elves. They were the only ones that had stayed with her and even then the elves were only present because they didn't have anywhere else to go. She had been their leader for so long that they didn't know what else to do but follow her. Some leader though. She had failed time and time again.
She had gone for a walk, just wanting some fresh air. She hadn't meant for her thoughts to grow so sombre, or perhaps she had? Isn't this what she wanted? She sat down in the tall grasses, it was too dark to see much, and her little spell wisp was the only source of light in the gloomy forest. It bobbed up and down in front of her, making the gnarled branches of the trees hanging over her grassy spot look ominous and creepy. She willed the wisp to return to the Fade, preferring the darkness. It's how she had felt for so long; it's what she was used to.
She pulled the knife out of her belt. She couldn't really see it but she knew it was still coated in Anders' blood. She ran her fingers along the ornately decorated hilt, feeling the swirling engravings and ribbed edges. The wood felt smooth in her palm, heavy too without Anders to help her hold it. She lifted a finger to run along the flat of the blade; the metal was cool and she could feel the crispy, dried blood covering much of it. Her finger touched the tip and a twinge of pain shot through her finger as the blade drew blood. She moaned at the feeling and then sucked on the metallic liquid at the pad of her finger.
She knew she wouldn't have the strength to plunge the knife into her own heart, no, instead, just like the rest of her life, it would be painful, drawn out and lonely. She had thought long and hard about carrying on, about fighting through this 'bad patch' as her mother would have called it. Her entire life was a bad patch though. She had no fight left in her; she had been slowly beaten down again and again and she could only get back up so many times.
She leaned back against the tree with the gnarled branches hanging over her, looking as if they might swallow her up. She wished they would. The silence of the forest was eerie. She had grown accustomed to the noise of others around her, even if she hadn't truly heard them. She knew Varric was always telling stories, Isabela had always dished out unwanted and unhelpful advice in between lewd comments and over-the-top flirting, Aveline had always been scolding someone for something or other, Merrill had always been asking questions, mostly, if she missed a joke as the others laughed, Anders and Fenris had often been quarrelling or preaching about mages, and she had sat in the corner, watching them all, ever sober, ever vigilant.
It was strange that they were all gone now. It felt wrong somehow that the only sound that she could hear was the rustle of the leaves as the wind brushed through the trees. Weren't these sounds supposed to be peaceful? She didn't feel calm, she felt numb, just like she always did. She supposed feeling numb wasn't so different to feeling calm though. It was about as close to being at peace as she was likely to get while she was still breathing.
She let the dagger rest against her wrist, her hand trembling ever so slightly, the coldness felt nice though. With a deep breath, she gripped the dagger tightly, sliding it up her arm. She bit down on her tongue to stop from crying out, and then pulled the blade away, moaning as the sweet agony coursed through her arm. She could feel the heat of her blood trickling down her skin and into her hand, it pooled in her palm before slipping through her curled fingers. She let her arm rest at her side, the grass tickling her skin, a sigh escaping her lips.
Her eyes were suddenly blinded as the sky lit up around her, a fork of lightning cutting through the dark clouds and the wind gusted around her, whipping her hair away from her face. A smile spread across her lips, she had always felt like she was at the centre of a storm; it seemed to rage around her, destroying everything she cared about, while she was always left relatively unscathed. How fitting then that she would die during one. She had to wonder if her death would be felt heavily by many. Varric would be sad and would no doubt spill some heroic tale of her untimely demise, Merrill would be sad too even though they weren't really friends, Fenris…she wasn't sure what he would feel. Despite leaving her all of those years ago, he still remained at her side; he had even helped her save the mages, despite the hatred he still harboured for her kind.
She felt light-headed now and considerably colder. She managed to grip the dagger enough with her bloodied hand to slide it along her other arm, not quite as deep as the first cut but enough to draw blood. She let the dagger fall into her lap and let her head lull back against the tree with a blissful sigh.
She watched the lightning tearing across the sky and found herself counting the seconds that passed before the thunder sounded loudly. The storm was close, overhead almost. She wished Anders was with her, to hold her in her final moments; dying alone suddenly seemed so unappealing.
Her eyes began to flutter closed as her life's blood leaked out of her arms, she felt dizzy and so very tired. She shuddered as a shiver ran down her spine; her skin covered in goose bumps and a thick sheen of sweat.
Her ears pricked up as she heard something over the roar of the wind and thunder. She turned her head, searching for the source of the new noise. In a bright flash of lightning her eyes caught sight of white hair. Their eyes met briefly, green, wide in shock, locking onto her blue ones.
"Hawke!" She heard him properly that time as he lunged toward her, panic all over his face. His eyes darted down to her arms. "Foolish woman!" he hissed as he fell to his knees. "What have you done?" He grabbed her arms, lifting them above her heart.
"Don't," she rasped as she yanked her arms free with what little strength she had left.
He stared at her, unbelieving. "Hawke, you can't." His voice was hoarse.
She dropped her arms back to the ground, a frown on her face. "Why not?"
"Because you are a fighter," he urged, leaning closer to her to stare at her through his thick fringe of white.
She smiled sadly. "I have nothing, Fenris." Her finger lifted, shakily and traced the line of lyrium on his chin, his markings lit up as they always did when she touched them. "I just want it to end. I want to be with them all; I miss them too much."
His face was cast in the eerie blue hue of his markings, his brow furrowing at her words. "This is what you want?"
She nodded feebly, the dizziness back again. His shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. "Then I will stay with you." He locked his eyes with hers. "I should have, all of those years ago."
"Fenris…" she murmured, her hand moving to cup his face.
"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I was a coward, Hawke. Leaving like I did, I have regretted it every day since."
She let out a weak laugh. "You have terrible timing."
He gave her a sad smile, his eyes full of sorrow. "I know, but I am here now. You need not die alone, Marian."
His words flooded her with warmth and she nodded at him. "Then hold me, I'm so cold." She leaned forward and he slipped in behind her, his back against the gnarled old tree, his legs either side of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned back against his chest; he was only in a tunic and his leggings and she could feel the heat pouring off of him. She let out a contented sigh and her hands held his in her lap.
"Are you warmer now?" he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her flesh. She nodded and he pulled her closer to him. "I don't want you to go," he muttered.
She felt tears well in her eyes. "I've been gone for a while, Fenris. I just hadn't realised it."
He was quiet for a moment and then he nuzzled her neck, planting a kiss on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for any part I played in that…"
She turned her head, slowly, to face him, their noses touching. "I always understood." Her fingers pulled at the red fabric tied around his wrist. "You even sleep with this on."
His head tilted to look at the fabric. "I let you slip through my fingers. I had you and I was happy but I fled, like a fool. I wanted it as a reminder for what I had lost but also so that I had a piece of you close to me."
She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady compared to her frantic one. Her eyelids fluttered closed again, her breath coming out in shorter pants. He squeezed her hands and pressed a kiss to her head before breathing her in.
"Are you in pain?" he asked quietly.
"No. I feel calm… at peace." She smiled widely. "I will be with them soon."
"I do not know what I will do without you to follow," he admitted.
"You are a slave no more," she said between gasps as her hands tugged at the fabric around his wrist. "Not to me, not to anyone."
"I was with you, out of choice. I was yours, out of choice."
She started to shake, her breaths ragged and fast, he pulled her across his lap so that she was staring up into those gorgeous green eyes of his. Her heart thundered in her chest as he gripped her tight, his forehead resting against hers.
"Now we're both free –"
She gasped as her heart beat its last.