This is a little idea triggered by a post on the Dragon Age Wiki forums - someone theorised that the Seeker could interrogate other members of Hawke's party (I have no idea who though, so shout out to you if you said that!). My imagination then kicked that up a notch and came up with this: the Seeker searching for answers from Hawke's LI...who of course is the only one not to leave Hawke at the end. This fic then came to me and I wrote it in one sitting. Other than a spell check, this hasn't been proof-read so if you see any errors, please tell me so I can correct them! Thank you, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to Bioware.
She'd known that the tales the public were so fond of were not true. To them, the Champion was a legend; almost mythical. She had ceased to be a simple human and had been elevated to a being of immense power and impossible capability. But what she'd learnt from the dwarf had turned even her own suspicions on their head. The Champion...wasn't responsible. The woman had even tried to quell the budding war; tried not to take sides. But despite the Seeker's recent revelations, she was still certain of one thing: the Champion was the key to ending this war before it truly began.
As she walked away from the Champion's old estate, the rhythmic beat of her soldiers' boots against the paved streets forming a familiar background noise, Cassandra Pentaghast returned her thoughts to the one point the dwarf had let slip. Another option.
Not all had left the Champion.
It took quite a few weeks for the reports to start to filter through; of the lone elf with the silvery tattoos. He never lingered; appearing briefly in a town, to buy food or stay a single night, then moving on, always leaving people talking in hushed whispers. But slowly, a pattern was emerging.
He was moving towards Kirkwall.
Though two tense months had passed from the first report arriving to him finally reaching Kirkwall, the wait was worth it. The Seeker had let him reach the city, monitoring him carefully. She wasn't surprised when he made contact with the storyteller, Varric, in what was apparently their old haunt – The Hanged Man.
Rather than his old master's mansion, however, the elf retired to the Amell estate as night fell. It was there Cassandra went, leaving her guards in the foyer. When she found him, the elf was standing in one of the bedrooms, looking at the dust-clogged fireplace, apparently as entranced as he would have been had a fire danced there. A great sword rested against the mantle; matte black from the pommel to the tip of the blade.
He didn't seem surprised when she entered. He gave no sign of hearing her until he spoke.
"You wish to speak with me, Seeker? Varric said that you'd been watching my movements closely. It is good fortune for you that Varric's informants are so reliable, otherwise you and your men would not have entered this house safely." He gave a low, darkly amused laugh, finally half-turning to face her. Though she expected to see them, his lyrium veins were still unnerving to see, especially coupled with the cold cast to his eyes that contrasted sharply with the faint tilt of his mouth. "You certainly wouldn't have left here breathing,"
Cassandra drew herself up, refusing to be intimidated.
"Are you threatening me, elf?" She demanded, though made no move to draw a weapon. He just smiled emotionlessly and turned to face her fully.
"Only if you are threatening me with your twenty men downstairs," He said, dry but honest. After a beat of holding his eyes, Cassandra nodded in understanding and relaxed enough to lean against the wall, arms folded. Similarly, Fenris walked around the giant four-poster to face her as sat on the edge of the Champion's bed, hands clasped loosely as he rested his elbows on his knees. A glimmer of red stood out from his dark armour; a scarlet band around his right wrist.
"What was it you wished to know, human?" He sounded suddenly weary, as if now they were under an uneasy truce he could show the bone-deep exhaustion eating at him.
"Varric said that you still travelled with the Champion. I am searching for her. Do you know where she is?" She asked, and saw just an instant of pain flicker across his face before he wiped it away with a sigh and a nod to himself, as if confirming something.
"The dwarf said as much." He murmured, before raising his eyes to meet hers. "I cannot help you, Seeker. I know as much as you do," Again that bitterness had crept into his voice, the grief.
For a moment, Cassandra heard the loss in his voice and thought the worst.
"Varric said that the Champion was alive. He said that of all her companions, you were the one who refused to leave. What changed?" The tone of demand was starting to wrestle with her reluctance to antagonise the elf. They had to find the Champion, before this war tore the world apart. Fenris had passed a gauntleted hand over his eyes as she spoke, as if not wanting to think about any of it.
"Hawke...the Champion was alive when I last saw her." Cassandra watched, surprised. The elf had lowered his voice to keep it steady, closing his eyes on his memories. On a softly expulsed breath, he whispered, "Maker, I hope she still is," When his deep green eyes were revealed again, he took a steeling breath and sat up straighter to address the Seeker directly. "We did not part company willingly. When we fled Kirkwall, our company headed north. We didn't have a set destination in mind...we were too concerned with avoiding the Templars and the battles. We all agreed that it was in our best interests to disappear for a while. As you know, people started leaving as they each found some cause to follow. Isabela and Merrill left first, I believe. The pirate planned to circle around back to Kirkwall and take back her ship, in the hopes that Kirkwall had become less treacherous in the time we'd been running. She was going to sail to Antiva and lay low there for a while. The blood mage wanted to go with her – the two had always gotten on well, like sisters. Having the Dalish along would have been good for Isabela, I imagine. She would have been more cautious." Even as he said the words, he gave a doubtful snort. Caution wasn't one of Isabela's strong points.
"While we were in the Vimmark Mountains, Aveline and Donnic went west towards Orlais. They'd spent some time there on their honeymoon; they felt they'd be safe there for a while. We had to give Starkhaven a wide berth; Sebastian was still out for Anders' blood. Personally I wouldn't have minded leaving the abomination at the Prince's door, but we were all wary that his vendetta would extend to Hawke and the rest of us, by association. So, we travelled east along the Minanter River, trying to find a safe place to cross. We encountered a small group of apostates trying to do the same thing; all but one were apprentices. The single enchanter had managed to get them out of the Kirkwall Circle before it fell; she knew Bethany from her years in the Gallows. Once we crossed the river and reached the vicinity of Ansburg, the mages decided to split from us and flee to the Green Dales. Anders and Bethany went with them. I think the abomination was trying to atone for some of the damage he'd done by helping them out, and Bethany stayed with him. They were both safer in a group, and one not associated with us. That left me, Hawke and Varric heading for the Weyrs, then Antiva. We'd decided at some point along the road to try and find Isabela and Merrill in Antiva City, but as we did the Templars found us. Varric was on board the ship, but Hawke and I had been out in the city. We told Isabela to cast off; she wouldn't." He sighed, shaking his head. "Her conscience has wonderful timing," He muttered, though there was a begrudging respect in his tone, Cassandra noticed. He lifted his eyes to hers again as he continued, forcefully driving detachment into his voice.
"We cut the ropes and broke the gangway so that the Templars couldn't get onto the ship. Obviously, that meant we couldn't board it either. Isabela had to take control or be cast adrift. Merrill froze the Templars from the ship, which gave us some time to run. It took us quite some time to lose them; we were chased to the Arlathan Forest where we finally shook their pursuit." Here he paused, and Cassandra sensed that he was steeling himself to tell the critical point, when the Champion had gone. "We couldn't travel any further north. We considered trying to reach a port and travel to Seheron. Maybe even go to the Fog Warriors. They would not demand we convert to the Qun; yet they would defend us loyally should the Templars come looking that far for us. We were even looking forward to it; we'd be free for the first time in months. We could stop running," For an instant, a genuine smile flickered to life on his tired face. He'd taken to absent-mindedly brushing a thumb over the red band at his wrist, with the distracted air of someone who didn't realise their own actions. Then his face darkened again and the light went out of his eyes. "The only problem was reaching a port town; the closest was Carastes in the Imperium. Both of us were loathe to go any closer to that place; we were practically on the border as it was. The next port in the opposite direction was Kont-arr in the Rivain, but to reach it we would have to cross back into Antiva, where we'd been actively hunted just days before." He sighed, standing and pacing quietly to the window, resting against the wall and looking out at High Town. It was almost unrecognisable from his time there; the battle had hit this area hard. The nobles rank hadn't spared them this time. Even after all these months, the tiles were cracked from toppled statues, the once lush plants withered and uncared for. Houses had clearly been ransacked; doors hanging off hinges, windows smashed in. Fenris smiled humourlessly. His old mansion had only been spared because it was already picked clean, short of a few pieces of heavy furniture that no thief would bother with. The home he stood in was spared by everything except dust out of fear and respect. It was as if people thought they would be cursed if they stole from the old Champion's estate, likening it to haunted tombs of ancient, superstitious Kings. Hawke would have laughed to hear the wild tales that bore her name now. They were getting quite ridiculous.
Hawke.
For a long moment, Fenris bowed his head, eyes squeezed shut.
The Seeker shifted, no doubt desperate to break the suspense of his tale but knowing enough to stay silent until he spoke. Lifting his eyes to the night sky, Fenris continued, his voice resigned, weary.
"As it turned out, we didn't have to choose between the two ports. There was a storm; we were searching the forest for somewhere to shelter before it broke. We finally found some half-destroyed ruin. It had half a roof, and the rest of the room had a thick canopy that barely let any rain in. It was enough to weather the storm in. Despite the thunder and the cold, we managed to sleep. But..." He shook his head slightly, as if in wonder at a long-standing question he still did not have the answer to. His hand had curled into a fist, as if trying to drive away the memory. He'd fallen silent, as if hesitating to relive the event. Quietly, respectfully, Cassandra prompted him.
"But?" She asked. He glanced sharply over at her, before nodding as if to remind himself of his surroundings and continuing.
"That night was...strange. Such odd dreams...we woke several times during the night, both from an experience too real to be a simple dream. After the second time, we decided not to sleep – we'd rest the next day, when we were out of the forest. Yet we couldn't keep our eyes open; it was like being drugged or sent to sleep with a spell. That final dream I don't remember much of, but the last part I was in the ruins, but in that odd light of the Fade. There were two women there. When I saw the first, for a moment I thought it was Hawke, there was such a similarity. The second stood back, and didn't speak throughout the exchange. She had eyes like a hawk; amber and watchful. The first woman stepped forward and said not to worry, that they were with Hawke. I distinctly remember her saying that 'she would let no harm come to her cousin. The Amells have lost enough without losing her too.' She told me not to look for Hawke when I woke; I wouldn't find her. Then she turned, revealing a large mirror some way behind her. It was like the one the blood mage kept in her house; an eluvian. The women walked towards it, then straight through it. I admit, I panicked. I tried to wake up; but couldn't. I knew I had to; that Hawke was in trouble, but nothing I did would release me from the dream. I tried passing through the eluvian after the women, but when I touched it, it was just glass. I ran through the ruins, trying to find an exit, and found the room Hawke and I had fallen asleep in. I-" He stopped abruptly, had to start again. There was a tone of disbelief lingering in his voice. Disbelief and...something else. Finally, Cassandra placed the rough emotion.
Pain.
"I was lying there, asleep. I was looking at myself. But Hawke wasn't there. I tried to wake myself, and finally as I was shouting I woke. But too late," His voice dropped, became even quieter, rougher. The bitterness was back. "She was gone. I searched everywhere; every corridor in the ruins, shouting past every pile of rocks in case she'd been trapped behind them. I went outside, but there weren't even any footsteps in the mud to follow. I searched the forest anyway, but to no avail. Whatever had happened to her had happened in the ruins." His voice became distant as he fell deeper into his thoughts. His eyes were glazed, their focus in a distant forest as he searched for his love. "I left, eventually. I knew she wasn't there. I wasn't going to go to Seheron without her, so I followed the only route available to me: I went south, avoiding both the Imperium and Antiva. I wandered aimlessly for a time, not knowing where to go or do, other than stay as invisible as possible. Eventually, I remembered something. Varric had shouted to us as the ship moved off, back in Antiva. 'Ostwick. Find us in Ostwick.' It was very close to Kirkwall, but it was a clever gambit. Fugitives try to get as far away from the place they ran from as possible; so to go to the next closest town was unexpected; if we were careful, it should be safe enough. I headed there, trying to stick to the small hamlets and towns on the occasions I needed to buy or steal food, or seek shelter from the weather. When I arrived, I found Isabela and Merrill at the local bar. Apparently," Here he sent a wry glance at the short-haired woman across the room. She just looked at him levelly, knowing now what was coming. "Some Seekers of Truth had burst in one night. The two had been upstairs playing cards, but Varric was downstairs spinning his tales. These Seekers apprehended Varric and left. Of course, this being Isabela, she told Merrill to stay in the inn and slipped out of the window. For highly trained agents, your men were apparently very easy to follow. Unobservant, too – Varric saw Isabela shadowing the group, but none of your men so much as glanced backwards." Fenris was baiting her, and it was starting to tell. Cassandra was frowning, and snapped brusquely at him.
"Continue your tale, elf. My men's training is no concern of yours." Ignoring his dry smirk took some self-control, but Cassandra managed to curb her tongue until he deigned to speak again.
"Isabela heard the men speaking of Kirkwall. On her own, she couldn't challenge all of the Seekers – even Isabela knows a lost cause when she sees one. So she returned to the Inn and continued what they'd been doing – lying low. Only this time, Isabela put Varric's contacts to use. She confirmed that he'd been taken to Kirkwall; she knew when he arrived, and where in the city he was taken. This very building, as I understand," Fenris sent the Seeker a questioning look, but she didn't give him a clue either way, simply staring at him and waiting for him to continue. Taking the hint, he smiled and looked back out of the window, raising his voice so she could still hear him clearly.
"When I arrived, Isabela and Merrill directed me here. The pirate told me that Varric had been released, but was apparently staying in Kirkwall. She also told me that your focus had shifted." He turned now, leaning easily against the windowsill, arms folded, mirroring her earlier stance. His smile was darkly challenging. "Shifted to me, that is." Finally, Cassandra nodded.
"I thought that you would be able to tell us more about the Champion; being as close to her as you were," She expanded. He lifted his head, scrutinising her with narrowed eyes.
"'Are', human, not 'were'. I am almost certain she is alive, so do not speak as if she is dead," He murmured quietly, with such an undercurrent of danger that Cassandra took a half step back. Her heel hit the wall. Silently, she cursed at the flicker of a smile that fluttered across his face at her action. She could easily see why his appearance would intimidate others, even as she straightened her back and glowered at him.
"Tell me more about these women in the Fade." She demanded. A suspicion had started to form at the back of her mind and she wanted it confirmed.
Fenris rolled his eyes to the ceiling before closing them with an irritated sigh.
"As I said, the first – the one who spoke – was very like Hawke, and called her a cousin. She had dark hair, to her shoulders. Blue eyes...very similar to Leandra's, in fact. Pale skin, like Hawke. She wore a single earring; I remember thinking it a bit odd. The second had dark hair; held up in some sort of bun and wore...revealing clothes. The leggings and belts she wore looked like leather, but not the highly treated, glossy kind you used to see in High Town. She wore dark make-up; purple eyebrows and lips. She was pale too, and looked distinctly mistrustful as I recall. Both were mages; they wielded staffs. I would have placed the first as a Circle mage from her robes, but the second was almost definitely an apostate." The elf lowered his eyes to Cassandra's again and raised a dark eyebrow. "Is that detailed enough, Seeker?"
She nodded, a rare smile breaching her lips.
"It is sufficient, but for one thing. Have you any idea who these women might have been?" She asked, her eyes not daring to show the triumph she felt. She was right, she was certain of it.
She saw a glimmer of realisation in the elf's eyes, before he veiled it with an air of speculation.
"I have heard quite a few rumours as I travelled, many from Varric. He catered to his audience, and there were two tales in particular he was asked to tell. That of the Champion of Kirkwall...and that of the Hero of Ferelden. Both are women, both belong to the Amell family. From what I've heard of the Warden, she appeared quite similar to her cousin. Of her many companions, one was a fabled Witch of the Wilds; an apostate from the Korcari Wilds, rumoured to be the daughter of Asha'bellanar; the Flemeth of Ferelden legend. By all accounts, she was a match for Isabela – desired and feared by many, in equal amounts. I wouldn't presume anything, but the second woman in that dream looked as though she stepped straight out of the Wilds, and her eyes were very similar to those of the old shape shifter. If pressed for an answer, I would say that the two women were the Hero of Ferelden, and Morrigan, Witch of the Wilds."
Cassandra nodded, shifting. She was suddenly impatient to leave – she had learned a lot in the past hour or so, and needed to inform Leliana before they chose to act.
"Those would also be my suspicions. Fenris, thank you for this." She was genuine. This could provide a key to finding both women. However he waved a dismissive hand at her, almost scornful.
"I do not need nor want your thanks, Seeker. I only help you because you stand a good chance of finding Hawke." He moved from the window, effortlessly lifting his great sword from its place at the fire and swinging it onto his back. He caught her reflexive tensing relax and offered her a humourless smile.
"I would hardly tell you all that and place my hope in you, only to remove your head from your shoulders, human. You will keep me informed of your investigation. You will find me at the Hanged Man, or here. Do not think to exclude me from this search, Seeker. You are not the only one with contacts," He had approached her as he spoke, and only now did he release her from the bolt of his stare and turn to walk out of the door. Cassandra let her breath loose again, and followed him out. Her men relaxed their weapons from being levelled at the elf's chest at the sight of her unharmed. He hadn't been perturbed; he'd continued walking down the stairs and towards the front door. Her men, highly trained though they were, discreetly backed away from the elf as he walked by. Cassandra saw the blue glow reflecting off of their armour, and saw the gleam of lit lyrium in the veins on his arms as he walked away.
"Fenris," His name stopped him; he half turned his head to glance at her through the strands of silvery hair that obscured his face.
"The Templars will not trouble you or your associates whilst you remain in Kirkwall. The Seekers will ensure that," She promised him. It was the least she could do until his information brought up any useful leads. The elf nodded, and the lay of his shoulders softened slightly as he relaxed.
"That would be appreciated, Seeker. Thank you," His footsteps barely made any sound as he left. By the time Cassandra had given her men their orders and followed, the elf had vanished as effectively as his Hawke had.