He'd hoped never again to see the inside of the Templar Hall, but Kirkwall would always have its way with him. Not that one could see much of the hall from the tiny room in which the Templars had sequestered them. He'd take the room over the Knight-Commander's office any day. He supposed he should be grateful that he and Andra hadn't been marched up the steps of a true gallows to matching nooses. The abomination was making it impossible to feel any gratitude, however, as he paced the perimeter. Perhaps it was premature to feel any sort of gratitude at all, for the noose could still very well be forthcoming, depending upon the Knight-Captain's whim. No matter what Andra had done to help the Templars, it likely hadn't been enough to sway Cullen.
"Sit down, Anders! Maker's breath, you're worse than a caged mabari!" Bethany said.
"Blighted Templars!" The abomination muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like, "Tranquil."
"Yes, Anders, they're going to make us all Tranquil," Andra said. The warmth of her hand suffused him and drove his worst thoughts away . "All of us, me included."
"Fine, laugh at me, Hawke," the abomination said. "You may not have anything to fear, but a mage has more to lose. The worst the Templars can offer you is death."
"If you insist." She broke out into titters.
"You're not making things better, Lyssie," Bethany said.
"If I have to fight them, my blades are ready. Rest easy, Anders, the Champion of Kirkwall will save you!" The tittering turned into gasping laughter. "Oh, Maker… I really did it this time, didn't I?"
He slipped his hand out of her grasp and slid his arm around her waist before she could protest. Then again, she'd never been one for protesting when laughter took her. Whatever it was you did, I helped you. What sort of fool does that make me? Yet she hadn't been the one to do anything—that had been up to the now-twitchy abomination, the possessed First Enchanter, and the crazed Knight-Commander. Kirkwall itself had been the cauldron that had contained their bubbling stew of madness. He'd only been amazed that Andra had kept the lid on the damned thing for so long before the abomination's explosion had sent the cover sky high, and scalded them all with unholy spew.
"You did what was right, sis," Bethany said.
That quieted her shaking in his arms and the queasiness in his stomach.
"It would have been better if you'd killed me, Hawke."
The abomination stopped right in front of them, and he fought to keep the lyrium beneath his skin from flaring. Too close. Far too close. Just one little punch, and some squeezing, and he'd never again have to listen to the pathetic mage's whining. He suppressed a bitter laugh. Sebastian was more of a coward than even I have been. All it would have taken was one arrow, a small one, shot from that magnificent bow, and at least this waiting would have been bearable. Yet the fool Prince had left his deed to the one person who would never carry it out: Andra was not one to turn on those she called friend, even if they seemed to delight in betraying her. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he'd betrayed himself in aiding the mages; her unflinching loyalty was what he loved most in her. He may well have loved her less had she killed the abomination, an irony that irked him more than the Sword of Mercy lying at his feet.
"Yes, that would make everything much easier, wouldn't it, mage?" Finally that laugh escaped. "There would be no uncertainty, no suffering for you, while the rest of us live with what you've done."
"Can they even make you Tranquil, Anders?" Andra asked. "What would that do to Justice? Wouldn't he keep your memories alive?"
"I… I've never thought about it," the abomination said.
"No, you've never thought about anything, have you? Not the least bit about the consequences of your actions." Andra shot him a look, but the faint twitching of her lips gave lie to its sternness.
Fortunately, the Templars beyond chose that moment to slam the door open, and they shoved the what remained of Andra's lunatic companions inside. He still marveled at the change in their attitude in the bare hour since they'd fallen to their knees before his baffled Champion. Templar loyalty and admiration only extended so far, it seemed.
He'd never seen Aveline strain so hard to smile, even the bitter line that narrowed her lips. "Well, Hawke, it looks like this is the last time you'll drag me along into your madness."
"We're no longer friends?" No jokes from his Andra this time, just a sharp, stricken tone that stabbed him deep. "You think you could have told me before you came along."
"Did I say that? No, the Templars want you gone, today if they can find a ship. Me, well, they need me, they said. Who else would make a proper Guard Captain?"
"Who else, indeed?" Andra said, and her own smile seemed almost genuine.
"Gone? Gone to where?" Bethany asked.
The Templar grunted. "Out!"
"Then we're free to go?" the abomination asked. A strange note of hope contaminated the otherwise delicious fear in his voice.
"So the Knight-Capt—Commander orders. He says you can visit the Champion one at a time if you must. Champion, you're with me, and you as well, elf."
It seemed that the Templar distinction between the Champion and her lover had finally evaporated.
"That's a fine thank-you," Varric said. "They've forgotten all the favors you've done for them, Hawke."
"Would you prefer to hang, dwarf?" the Templar asked. "Only the Champion's 'favors' saved you all."
"No, no. Point taken. I'll see you later, Hawke."
"Just shut up, Varric," Andra muttered to herself.
"We have our eyes on you, mage," the Templar said, nodding at the abomination. Yet he studiously ignored the blood mage.
"I need to speak with Hawke," the abomination said. "Might I accompany her?"
Clearly, the sniveling coward feared to be alone with Templars so near, a surprisingly rational fear from an unstable abomination. Who else did the mage have left to trust, beyond the blood mage and the dwarf? And neither had the skill Andra did to keep the Templars at bay. The Templar shook his head and gestured to Andra. Out. Out into what, he didn't know, but at least he could breathe again when her arm encircled his waist.
"Come here, Blondie," the dwarf said just before they passed out of earshot.