The Hawk has Fallen
The situation was dire. Not as bad as some things they had gotten themselves into, but it was up there on the scale. Hawke was already regretting the decision to take on the band of slavers with just one other person. Then again, that person was Fenris. His precious elf. Hawke's eyes darted around the room, searching for the elf's mop of silver hair. His heart started beating faster when he realised his lyrium-lined partner was nowhere to be seen. Hawke lumbered forward but tripped forward as a burning pain shot from a wound in his chest. His right hand instinctively went to the wound and it came away bloody. He was losing blood fast and for a blood mage that was bad.
Hawke heard a scuffle from the next room followed by the sound of a sword clattering across the floor. He burst through the door to see Fenris on the floor backed up against the wall next to him with three slavers encroaching with blood covered weapons. One raised his axe in a killing blow.
"No!" Hawke shouted. Fenris' head snapped to Hawke in the doorway. Without thinking, Hawke raised his staff and thrust it through his abdomen, as was per usual with blood magic. His blood would fuel his vicious magical attacks but as the magic infused blood began to seep into the air around him, Hawke's vision faded. He knew he had already lost too much blood and to use such a dangerous blood magic tactic now could spell his death. But Hawke knew he had to do it. He couldn't let Fenris die. Using what seemed the last of his blood, Hawke slaughtered the three slavers. When they fell to the ground dead, Hawke's blood covered staff slid from his fingers and clattered on the ground.
"Hawke..." Fenris said soft behind him. Hawke fell to his knees as the weight of standing had suddenly become too much.
"Hawke!" Fenris shouted. His lyrium tattooes flared with emotion. The elf scurried forward to now crumbled, bleeding heap that was Hawke. Fenris took Hawke's head in his hands. Fenris' eyes widened in fear as he felt Hawke's chest quiver with laboured breaths and saw his grey eyes lock with his.
"Fenris..." Hawke coughed.
"Hawke, of all the stupid things you've done, this tops it."
The raven haired man laughed. His laughter suddenly stopped as it made his chest heave with pain.
"Same as always, isn't it? Me having to save your skinny ass. Your fine, skinny ass," Hawke said with a smile. It was a smile that was fading quickly. Fenris lifted Hawke's head in an attempt to keep his life hanging on.
"You stay with me Hawke. Don't leave me again."
Hawke lifted a blood stained hand and brushed it against Fenris' face, leaving a bloody smear on his cheek. Tears ran down from Fenris' eyes to mix with the blood.
"I...love you Fenris," Hawke said with fading breath.
"Hawke...I...I'm getting you to Anders. You're not going to die!"
With that, Fenris lifted Hawke onto his shoulders. Hawke was a muscular man and Fenris was a light boned elf and he struggled with the weight of his partner on his shoulders. None the less, he trudged forward with the dying Hawke on his back.
"As always, I'm on top," Hawke said with a chuckle and sharp intake of breath.
"I don't think this is the time for this Hawke," Fenris grunted under the weight of his partner.
"That's what you said first time, hey Fenris," Hawke said softly. His voice was weak and growing weaker, "Too bad it...ended like this."
"Hawke..."
Hawke leant around and kissed Fenris on the cheek,
"Stay out of trouble you lyrium tattooed beauty you."
With those words, Fenris felt Hawke slump on his shoulders.
"No..."
Fenris placed Hawke on the ground and with a shaking hand checked for a pulse. There was none. His chest that so often heaved with laughter was now still and his eyes closed. Fenris let out a sob that was most unlike him.
"Hawke no...you selfish bastard...no..."
Fenris started at Hawke's still body, wishing and praying to every god he knew that he would jump back up again and laugh it off. Soon, the realisation sunk into his brain and he let out another mournful sob and collapsed on Hawke's bloodied chest, his tattoos glowing with a pain he had never felt before. The Champion was dead and Fenris felt he was too.