Dragon Age II: Defiance
By: Shadow Chaser
Author's Notes:
This will be a FemHawke/Anders story with a mage background. Carver was sent to the Grey Wardens and my Origins import had the Hero of Ferelden as a female Circle of Magi/Alistair pairing. Alistair also became the King of Ferelden by marrying Queen Anora. Fenris and Merrill were both rivals and I lost Isabela during the Qunari campaign. Sebastian vowed to find Anders and hunt him down after Hawke convinced him to be a part of the Chantry instead of retaking Starkhaven.
Summary:
Fleeing Kirkwall, Hawke and the rest of her companions seek refuge in Amaranthine and from there travel to Denerim for amnesty from the Templars through Hawke's distant familial connection to the Hero of Ferelden, Rinaran Amell. However, Denerim has its own problems as Orlais declares a renewed hostility towards the country for attempting to harbor the fugitives.
Story:
Prologue – The Storyteller
"You're safe now," she stayed in the shadows, watching the dwarf brush himself down and look around from where he sat, or rather, had been thrown into sitting.
"So you did hear the whole thing then," he stared at his fingertips, his tone mild and disinterested, but she knew better.
"It was better to hear the whole story then to draw up my own conclusions based on the stories I heard before I even met her," she shrugged, "I am flattered that you kept my meeting with her in your retelling."
"You were part of one story so it was natural to include you in Hawke's story too," Varric Tethras shook his head before heaving himself up from the chair, "well, unless you have further questions or would like me to continue directing your...friend there to another direction, can I have Bianca back?"
This time she smiled as she stepped out of the shadows and tossed him his heavily modified crossbow, "She was kept safe. What will you do now?"
"Same thing you will be doing, well, in a different capacity. Help out my friend," he holstered his crossbow after giving it a quick once-over.
"If you do see her..." she trailed off, trying to suppress the hope in her voice.
"I got it, Nightingale," Varric tossed her a casual salute; "I'll let her know that you're keeping the Divine off of her back."
"And if you also see the Champion?"
"Are you sure it's the Champion you want me to send a message to or is it to Choir Boy?"
"Perhaps both," she smiled, "tell them that they go with the blessing and hopes of all who are free."
"Will do Seeker Leliana," the dwarf inclined his head once in a respectful nod before heading out of the main room that used to be the home of Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. The story was told, but the aftermath was another one that had yet to be finished.
Chapter 1 – The Refugee
The rain was unnatural, a cause of Knight-Commander Meredith's insanity that ripped into the Veil and across the heavens. But even in its unnatural state, there was still some solace sought in it; that it would quench the fires that ripped across Kirkwall, saving most people. But this unnatural rain only served to diminish and dampen Marian Hawke's mood as she trudged through muddy ground near the base of the Sundermount. She looked up into the grey, stormy skies, her eyes blinking away the damp droplets before glancing back at the soggy party of people that were following her.
"We'll make camp here," she called out and silent nods answered her words. There was no visible sigh of relief, but she could feel it easily, especially from the pained look her younger brother Carver was giving her.
They all shuffled into a small cave, Aveline and her husband Donnic taking a torch Merrill had helpfully lit and went deeper in to make sure there was no immediate threats. Fenris had excused himself with a few polite gruff words to look for some kindling and perhaps an animal to eat for tonight's meal while Varric had asked Merrill to come over and check their supplies. Carver had gone to another corner and was shedding his heavy Grey Warden armor, leaving Anders the only one who hadn't volunteered or done anything.
She sighed, glancing back at the man who had been her lover for the past four years. The same man who had somewhat of a dual personality between him and a spirit of the Fade; and the man who had caused recent events to be so. "Anders..."
"I'll see if I can find a dry spot to start a fire," he murmured, not looking at her before wandering away, deliberately avoiding the others and giving everyone a wide berth.
Marian shook her head as she stared at Anders's back. She was angry, hurt, confused, her emotions a myriad of things she could not even describe. She still could not believe that he had the gall to deceive her, betray her, and then use her to blow up the Chantry just...a little over a day ago. But most of all, she could feel her own heart breaking each time she looked at him, yet somehow could not execute him after that horrific act.
It had cost her the friendship of Sebastian Vael, the Chantry priest to whom she had thought would be one of the more reasonable figures between the growing tension of the Mages and Templars in Kirkwall. He had vowed revenge against Anders and by extension her, for not killing him after what he had done. He had vowed to bring an army down upon him and to see that her "precious" Anders be brought to justice. Yet she still did not react to that, only feeling a resignation within her after he had left. She loved Anders, yet, hated him with such a passion for escalating the feud into a full-blown war.
And save for a few words, a plea for her to run away with him, to which she had agreed, Anders had said nothing else, silent during their escape from Kirkwall. She had not asked him nor engaged him in any conversation, not knowing if she would yell at him, curse him, or kill him. It was good for now, especially since the rest of her friends who had stood by her, had sent numerous death glares in his direction for his actions. She knew that they only tolerated him because of her, and they followed her because she had no other choice after siding with First Enchanter Orsino and the Mages in Kirkwall.
For the first time in a long time, she wanted nothing more than to go to a corner and scream her head off in frustration.
"Marian, we need to talk," Carver's voice startled her out of her thoughts and she turned to see her brother walking over to her, having sorted out his armor. Patches of dark spots clung to his undershirt where his armor hadn't protected it from the rain. Gauze was wrapped tightly around his shoulders, a wound courtesy of one of the statues in the Gallows that Meredith had conjured up during her rampage.
"Now?" she asked as she spotted Fenris re-entering the cave holding a bundle of kindle sticks and several hares. How the Elf had killed that many hares that quickly was beyond her, but she did not complain. She moved to the side as the Elf headed over to where Anders was, dropping his sticks and moving far away from the Mage as humanly possible, sitting himself next to Merrill of all people, and Varric.
The fact that Fenris was sitting next to the Dalish Elf who dabbled in blood magic was another sign that tensions were very high in the party. A jangle of armor clanking from the back of the cave made her look up to see Aveline and Donnic returning, the two of them carrying some more firewood before they situated themselves around the camp. Donnic immediately went to help Fenris skin the hares, the two of them having an odd relationship that she had overheard involved Donnic spending one day a week with the Tevinter Elf gambling in his mansion.
Aveline only reluctantly sat near Anders to help him with the firewood and even then, she noticed it was very reluctant. Out of the whole group, Marian knew that her dearest and longest friend was very affected by recent events, especially since she had declared Kirkwall to be her home. It was unbecoming of the Guard-Captain of Kirkwall to flee the city she had tried to protect.
"Yes now," Carver sounded a bit annoyed and Marian sighed.
"Fine," she closed her eyes briefly before following her brother to the cave entrance where their voices would hopefully be muffled by the thunderous rain. Behind her she heard the sounds of her friends starting to cook the hares and set up the rest of camp. She stared at her brother as he stood like a silent statue, staring out into the darkening sky, night falling. "Well?" she asked.
"What do you plan to do?" he finally asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
"I...haven't really thought that far-"
"I mean with him," her brother asked and Marian knew which 'him' he was talking about.
"If you're suggesting that I kill him-"
"What if I am?" he asked, finally turning to face her, his eyes hard, posture set.
"I won't kill him," she looked away, her voice quiet, "not after...not after all we've been through."
"He blew up the Chantry, sister, the Chantry," Carver replied, "even though you and I have had our disagreements, you know that this kind of act cannot be forgiven!"
"And I haven't forgiven him," she hissed back, her anger at Anders' action still hovering so close to the surface.
"Then why do you keep him around? Why is he alive?" he aborted his gesture to point at Anders lest the rest of the camp hear their argument.
"He's-" Marian abruptly shut her mouth as she glared at nothing in particular before staring at her brother, "it's none of your business!"
"It's my business, because I'm your brother!"
"Stop trying to protect me!" she realized what he was doing and gritted her teeth, "I never needed your lectures! I'm your older sister, not Bethany!"
"Just like you protected mother?"
Marian barely had enough time to even register her own actions before she felt the stinging hurt on her palm as she slapped Carver across the face. It was only after she had done it that she realized what had happened and it seemed that Carver had also realized his words as the shock registered through his face before he looked apologetic.
"I, uh, I'm sorry," he looked down, "I shouldn't have said that..."
She shook her head before gently touching the red mark she had left on his face, "I'm sorry too..."
"No you're not," he gave her a slightly hesitant smile and she nodded once.
"Yeah, you're probably right," she accepted his apology before he rubbed the back of his head in an awkward attempt to smooth things out.
"Look, just...be careful, okay?" he said, "I...don't want you to get hurt, that's all."
"I'll be careful," she replied.
"Okay, so then," he cleared his throat, "have you thought about where you're going to go?"
"Not really," Marian shrugged, "I told Anders that I would...um...run away with him after all of this was over, but I guess, maybe where he wants to go?"
She saw Carver suppress the visible urge to go on what was probably another lecture regarding Anders before shaking his head, "Have you seen him? He's following you...well, rather aimlessly. I don't think he knows where he wants to go."
"Can't go to the Tevinter Imperium," she shook her head.
"Why not? They're probably cheering at his achievement for blowing up a Chantry," Carver could not keep the bitterness out of his tone, and Marian had to agree with him. The Tevinter Imperium would be the most likely place that she and Anders could flee to, but that would also doom some of her friends, one in particular, Fenris. She could leave Fenris and the others behind, but they had stuck by her all these years, she could not abandon them now, especially since she was responsible for their exiles from Kirkwall.
"Fenris," she gestured with her head back towards the ex-Tevinter slave. The smell of roasting hares was starting to fill the cave and spread towards them. "And we don't really know what their society is like. It's Mage-friendly, but it seems like they treat all others who don't have magic like second or even third-class citizens. I don't want that for you, or for anyone."
"I can take care of myself," Carver frowned, "I am still a Grey Warden."
"Does Warden-Lieutenant Stroud know you're here?" she asked.
"Um...not exactly," Carver shook his head, "I'm technically supposed to be on leave."
"Some leave," her attempt at some light humor made a small smile appear on her brother's face.
"What about going west to the other Marcher cities?"
"That's out of the question," she shook her head. She did not want to go anywhere near Starkhaven and crossing the plains of the Free Marches meant going near Starkhaven, even if towards Nevarra.
"I'm not even going to ask why," Carver saw the look on her face, "Orlais is out of the question and Antiva will probably be crawling with everyone who wants our bounties."
"You thought this out," she had a slight suspicious feeling about where her brother was going with this.
"Yeah...I kind of did," he admitted, "had a feeling that this was what was going to happen after we defeated Orsino. So I was thinking that we could maybe head to Denerim..."
"I am not putting King Alistair in the middle of this," she shook her head. She had only briefly met the King before everything went straight to hell, but from what she had heard about him and from meeting with him, he was a good King. A little odd at times, but a good man.
"No I mean maybe we could see the Warden-Commander," Carver quickly explained, "you know...our distant cousin?"
"You think that she would help us?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "but she's the Warden-Commander and Anders...didn't exactly leave on the best terms!"
"Yeah, but she knows him, maybe she'll be a little sympathetic?" he said.
"Why would you do this?" she asked.
"Because you need a safe haven to let the initial storm blow over and I can help," Carver replied, "because I want to do this for you, not for him, but for you."
"How do we know that our cousin won't hand him over to the Templars in Ferelden or put him on a ship back to Kirkwall? As far as we know, his phylactery could still be in the Circle Tower in Ferelden," Marian was worried, "or she could even just re-conscript him to the Wardens to answer for what he did."
"Listen, I got to meet her a couple of times and based on the stories I heard, one of her companions that traveled with her to stop the Blight was rumored to also house a spirit of the Fade within her. It's only a rumor, but maybe we can talk to this companion too?"
"Are you sure about this?"
"What other choice do we have right now? I don't know about you, but I don't really want to wander around the Marches forever, waiting for someone to come after us," Carver replied.
"You have a point," she sighed, running a hand through her short hair, pushing her bangs away for a moment, "let me talk to Anders about it tonight and I'll let you know tomorrow morning when we break camp, okay?"
"That's all I'm asking," Carver nodded, "and just know that even if you don't go, I'm not holding it against you. I'll follow you wherever you do decide to go."
"Thanks, little brother," she absently ruffled his hair and he ducked from her touch, giving her a frown.
"I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"Still my little brother though," she smiled as he shook his head and went back to the camp, leaving her at the mouth of the cave. She stared out into the gloomy darkness for a few minutes before turning back and joining the others. She hoped that Anders would consider Carver's proposal, and if he did, she hoped that the Warden-Commander would be able to help them. Otherwise, she did not know where she would go.
Night had stretched into the fullness of the risen moon as Marian poked the embers of the smaller fire around camp with the point of her stave. She had taken the midnight watch, allowing the others to get some sleep. Carver had given her hints to talk to Anders after they had finished their meals as the others started a small game of cards, Fenris and Donnic winning most of the pot, though Varric was doing a good job at keeping up with them. She suspected the resident storyteller-merchant was cheating. But somehow could not make herself approach Anders and tell him of Carver's idea.
It was not that she did not want to talk to him, but it was more of the fact that she knew that if she opened her mouth, she may not even say what she meant to say and would say something else; something that she knew she would probably regret.
The sounds of night in the shadow of Sundermount echoed in the cave as she glanced over to the entrance, dimly lit by the moonlight. She had heard that after they had left in wake of Marethari's death, Merrill's clan had moved away from the mountain towards the northern plains of the Marches. She did not regret the harsh words she had spoken to Merrill after they had emerged from the caverns, but at least it was for the better that there was no chance the Dalish and Merrill would meet. She suspected that it was only out of the lingering respect Marethari had for her in taking Merrill under her wing that they had let them leave the encampment alive.
The glyphs and wards placed by the entrance and the other side of the cave they inhabited had not lit up indicating that no hostile creature was about to attack them. Anders had set those glyphs up before turning in for the night, diligently working on his task without a single word to anyone. She had pretended to be interested in the game the others were playing, but watched him go about his work.
She sighed, and poked hard at one of the embers, making it flare brightly before glancing over to where the Spirit Healer mage was sleeping and blinked in surprise to see his light brown eyes staring back at her, wide awake. "Did...um, I wake you?" it was the most words she realized, that she had spoken to him since they had left Kirkwall.
"No," he shook his head before pushing himself up from his bed roll and came and sat near her by the smaller fire. "Carver...said that I should talk to you."
"Carver," Marian rolled her eyes. Trust her brother to basically be as blunt as the giant claymore he usually carried around. Of course, that had started a minor showmanship between him and Fenris who carried a giant battle axe. It had taken most of her willpower and some head shaking from Aveline to refrain from antagonizing the two further as to who wielded the bigger sword. Of course, she could hear Isabela's phantom voice, still there even after the years since she had abruptly left her without even a single apology, comparing the weapon size to another part of the male anatomy.
"He didn't quite put it that politely though," Anders gave her a sad smile, his attempt at a joke to lighten the mood falling a bit flat.
She made no other comment other than to poke at another ember, making more sparks fly into the air.
"Marian, listen...I...know that you're angry with me-"
"More than angry," she muttered underneath her breath.
"This is why I wished you killed me back then. I was prepared to die," she heard him reply softly and glanced at him sharply.
"I told you that I would run away with you so why-"
"Nothing," he shook his head, "it's nothing...just ignore it. Justice, no Vengeance, is-"
"I thought you said the two of you are merged together," she raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
"We are, and we aren't," he pursed his lips, "it's...complicated right now. What I said back then, is true, but it also isn't true in some respects."
Marian stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head and resumed her absent poking of the embers. It was a conversation that would have to be hashed out later, perhaps when they were truly alone, not amongst others in the camp. "I was thinking of going to Denerim."
"Denerim? But that's where King Alistair..."
"I'm not going to look for the King," she replied, "I want to find the Warden-Commander."
"But she...uh...that's not a good idea."
"Why not?"
"You know that I did not leave the Wardens on good terms with them, right? I think the Warden-Commander would be furious with me if we went to find her."
"You never told me that she would be furious with you-"
"Yes, well," for the first time since he had blown up the Chantry, Marian saw a pained look pass through his features, "she was the one ordered that I not merge with Justice, saying that Justice's original host body, a fellow Warden named Kristoff would be suitable for the Fade spirit until he returned to the Fade itself. I...defied her orders."
"She knew something like this would happen?"
"I've always suspected that she knew something like this would happen," Anders shrugged, "never really got to ask her since, well, you know what happened. She had been one of the few friends I knew in the Tower in Ferelden before she had been recruited into the Wardens. She was one of the more promising students, even by First Enchanter Irving and very in touch with the more esoteric sides of the Fade and stuff like that."
"So what makes you think that it's not a good idea?"
"The Circle in Ferelden is one of the more scrutinized Circles right now, besides Kirkwall. When the Blight was happening one of the mages there Uldred, went completely crazy and tore the Veil in there. Even after it was fixed, the Chantry basically turned it into a second Kirkwall."
"So why does that relate to the Warden-Commander?"
"She hasn't done anything to try to free the mages in there! Not even after so many years!"
"Maybe because she's busy with her Warden duties?" Marian narrowed her eyes, "and I think that's Justice, Vengeance, not Anders talking."
"We're one and the same," he looked frustrated before rubbing his eyes, "sorry. It's...hard to keep him suppressed now, after what had happened. It's like rubbing a wound raw each day instead of letting it heal."
"It's our best chance, Anders," she said, "as much as the appeal of going to Tevinter is great, I'm not taking the chance to go near Starkhaven."
"You really think that...man would have an army ready by the time we reach the borders?"
"Yes," she stared at him, her gaze simple, "I do. And I believe he means it."
"Can't go to Orlais. Antiva would love to have our heads. I know you don't want to go to Rivain because of the mass amount of Qun converts there..." Anders looked resigned, "is going to Denerim really our only option?"
"For now, yes," Marian replied before finally giving him a serious look, "we can go anywhere after this, but right now, we need safety and shelter. We won't be able to find it by wandering the Marches."
"I'm sorry, you know," Anders said quietly, "sorry for ruining your life, asking you to promise to run away with me. I told you that I would break your heart-"
"Stop," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "just...stop."
The silence between them stretched before Anders stood up, "I'll take this watch, and check the glyphs and wards. You get some sleep."
She stared at him as he started to wander towards the entrance, "Anders..." He stopped, but didn't look at her. "If I find that you're gone when I wake up, I will personally track you down."
The ghost of an ironic smile flitted across his face, lit by the moonlight, "Of that I have no doubt, Hawke. Bird of prey indeed. Get some sleep."
She removed her stave from the embers of the fire and crawled into her bedroll. However, sleep did not come easily to her as she watched Anders work, his hands glowing slightly as he reinforced the glyphs around the entrance. The swirl of emotions still had not settled even with that conversation, yet she could not deny that a part of her wanted to follow him to the ends of the world, if not for her own sanity, but because there was no one else that truly understood what she was going through.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to try to drift off to sleep and it was only after she felt him sit down near her bedroll to take up his watch that she allowed herself to fall asleep.
Author's Notes:
This is definitely a reactionary piece to Anders' actions in Act 3 of the game and more or less my attempt at a continuation with what's happened. This is also definitely not a pro-Anders story since I will never condone what he had done, even if it was under the influence of Vengeance/Justice or his own twisted personality after the merging. However, this is also definitely not an anti-Anders story. It's more of a redemption story and both Hawke and Anders' attempt to find some modicum of peace in the midst of what is probably a terrible war. Next chapter will focus on the Hero of Ferelden to move the narrative along!