AN: First, a warning: For those who haven't, but intend to rival Anders to completion, this story contains spoilers for dialogues in Act 3.
My most recent play-through was on my first aggressive M!Hawke mage. I imagined him as an angry young man (especially after a certain event in Act 2) who tried to save his companions from their own stupidity/insanity.
I suppose at best, his efforts reached a limited success.
Also I played a little loose with the romance timelines, having Merrill come to him in the interim between Acts 2 and 3, instead of in Act 2 as she does in the game.
I'd like to thank Cadsuane for her beta reading skills, and being the muse behind this story after a long discussion on human nature and friendship. Also I'd like to thank Bioware for their engaging world of Thedas, without whom this story never would have seen imagining in my mind.
Vengeance is Mine
Chapter One
The Hawke estate seemed so quiet and empty the past few years. Even with Merrill having finally moved in today, it still would always feel empty without Carver, Bethany and Mother. William lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. Curled next to him in the protective circle of his arms, Merrill still occasionally sobbed, but it had finally subsided as she drifted off to sleep.
Today, they had been forced to kill her Keeper. William admired the woman's strength and courage. To protect her pupil, Marethari had taken the demon into herself. Even if it had been a stupid and drastic measure, it had taken just that to finally see Merrill turn from her self destructive path and smash that blighted mirror.
She hiccupped, and he stroked her arm absently with his fingertips until she settled down again.
After he had gotten her home, he set Orana to work making a hot bath for Merrill while he wrapped her in a blanket and tried to get some of her favorite hot tea into her. He knew he was no substitute for the clan she had lost, or the loss of the last seven years of her work, but he was here for her.
He knew what it was to grieve. His baby sister had died when they were fleeing the Blight years ago. That failure still caused his eyes to burn and the knot in his chest to twist. The pain was lessened by time and distance, but it would always be a part of him.
Carver he lost in the Deep Roads. Not to death. No, that would have been simple. As bad as losing Bethany had been, this was worse. Carver had been downed by the Blight sickness. If not for Anders, they never would have found the Grey Wardens in time to save his little brother. Yes, Carver lived, but he was so different now. Their foray into the Grey Warden fortress in the Vimmark had shown William just how different. But, at least he was alive.
Mother had been lost almost four years ago now, a failure that was still raw. Nothing he'd done in the city had mattered much to him after she was gone. It had all been for her. He wished she'd lived to see him named Champion.
He smiled in the darkness, imagining her face if she'd lived to that day. "She would've been so proud," Gamlen had told him and William believed it.
Beside him, Merrill finally stilled as she slipped into quiet slumber at last. He sighed. Lacing her tea with a little brandy, and her not knowing liquor, had been an inspired idea. It relaxed her enough to afford her a little rest so she could face tomorrow with a clear mind.
Varric stopped by the next morning. Merrill was still asleep, though William had been up for a couple of hours. Orana fussed, trying to fluff the pillows on the couch in the study, and fretted over the dust until Hawke sent her to fix them some of the little cakes she was so good at making to get her from the room.
"So how's Daisy?" Varric asked.
"As good as can be expected," William replied. "Last night, she smashed that mirror, Varric."
"And there it is," said Varric. William cocked a brow at the dwarf. "That 'I told you so' tone. Good thing I came here, I wanted to check up on you two."
"Me? I'm the one who's been telling her for years to forget that damn thing."
"And you'll probably say something stupid like that," said Varric. "Hawke, my friend, you're a good man, you get things done in this city, but Blight take you, you don't know when to just shut up and listen. Daisy isn't stupid, she knows this is her own doing. Just be there for her. She needs your support now, not your anger.
"Remember what I told you after Isabela took off with the book? At least she came back when you needed her to."
"I remember," William nodded.
The image of the pirate striding over the Arishok's guard, book in hand, ready to turn over the relic, danced through his mind's eye. They were lovers then, and William thought they were more than that, but her leaving had killed whatever had been growing between them.
Had it not been for her returning of her own free will, and Varric's intercession, William wasn't sure what he would have done. Probably, as Varric intimated, something stupid, no doubt.
It took three years to get their friendship back on track, but William no longer trusted her enough for any level of intimacy beyond that. Though from time to time they had still bedded each other—she was a tiger between the sheets and William was a man in his prime—what they had was only sex.
Merrill came to him not long after that, and they began sharing a bed as well. Somehow, though she drove him to distraction at times, Merrill had managed to touch him in a way no one else had. She was like a frightened little bird, fluttering against the bars of her cage, the cage being her feelings for him. No matter how crazy they made each other, or maybe because of that, they couldn't stop what was growing between them.
Why did he always seem to be attracted to the crazy ones?
"Anders said he needed to speak with you when you have some time. He has a plan to separate him and Justice."
William smiled. Thank the Maker. Maybe—just maybe—he'd managed to reach Anders after all. But Merrill needed him more right now.
"He's waited this long, a few more days won't matter much. I want to be here with Merrill until things settle down some first. I want to see them separated, too, but right now, Merrill needs me more."
After the death of his mother, all his companions had offered their sympathy, but it was Merrill who refused to leave him to grieve alone. At first he had closed up, wouldn't talk, but she didn't let him push her out. Pressing and pushing until he finally broke and yelled at her—he still felt ashamed of that—turning his grief into a personal attack on her.
Quentin was an insane and obsessed blood mage, and William worried that this would be Merrill's fate as well. He'd said such ugly things then, but she'd taken the worst he had to throw at her, and still refused to leave him. Proving, despite her apparent vulnerability, there were depths of strength within her she rarely showed to anyone. If she could bear the brunt of his anger and grief, he could do no less for her now.
"If you need me, just send a messenger," Varric said, rising to leave. "Isabela also says she wants to be here, too."
"I appreciate it, Varric and I'll let Merrill know you stopped by to ask about her, and that Isabela did as well. Right now, I think she needs a little peace and quiet to get through this. Maybe in a day or two, she'll feel up to company."