This is too much...
The thought ran around and around in Hawke's head as she tried, desperately tried, to think. Tried desperately to find the right answer to a question when there was none to be found. The ashes of the Chantry raining around her might as well have been stones on her back weighing her down to the ground. The little knife in her hand felt just as heavy as an executioner's axe, fitting since that was the action in question right now.
She wanted to hide, find a hole and never come out. It was all just too much for one person to decide. Too much for her to decide, too much for her to deal with, just too much.
I didn't want this...
She had not had nearly enough empathy about Merrill's loss of Marethari. She could remember being less than nice about that to the little elf because of frustration over the dalish girl's refusal to listen to others. Now she could appreciate it much more, stuck in the same boat of good intentions that lead elsewhere.
The thought had her looking at her companions again. Sebastian with his lip curled, the picture of righteous fury that was liable to boil over any minute. Isabela with her eyes darting around, checking for possible attackers. Aveline looking stern as ever as she watched Anders, ever the guard making sure the perpetrator did not escape judgement. Fenris, looking far more like the executioner then Hawke herself with one hand on his sword and hate carved into his face as he stared at Anders' back as well. Merrill looking sad but full of her usual compassion. Then there was Varric, his eyes closed and jaw set. He could have been singing a dirge to himself or resisting putting a bolt into the possessed apostate's skull, Hawke wasn't sure.
I never wanted this!
Her own bright eyes squeezed shut as her fist clenched hard enough to feel the hilt of her knife digging into her palm. Damn it all to the Void! She glared at Anders' back, part of her wanting to scream at him to just look at her. He had not looked her in the eye since the Chantry exploded. He sat on his box, slumped over and seeming not to care what he had done. Not once had he said he was sorry for anything. Not the people he murdered or for lying to her. This...this was a far cry from what she had thought when he claimed they would end in disaster or that he would hurt her. She had never thought it would run so deep or hurt so much.
"You have to choose" he had said earlier when both Meredith and Orsino had been yanking on her, saying she needed to side with them. She still was not even sure she made the right choice there either! She did not make the choices dammit! His comment seemed to be far more than the original argument of mages and templars now though. To choose his fate as well as that of the mages in the Gallows.
Hawke did not make decisions like this though. She did not make decisions period! She did jobs, work, maybe picked what she wanted for breakfast. She certainly had not wanted to go into the Deep Roads, it had been the only way to get money and influence quick enough to keep the templars off Bethany. She never decided for the Qunari to attack, she reacted to it! She did jobs for people because they needed help and it was the right thing to do to help those people. She never decided their fates! She didn't want this!
How had Aveline handled this pain? To have a loved one's life in your hands. To remember them as they laughed, cried. To remember the first time you met or the first time you kissed. To remember them comforting you when you suffered and you doing the same for them.
No it wasn't the same...this was far, far worse than Aveline had faced.
"Say you're sorry..." Hawke whispered so quietly she doubted anyone could hear over the rumbling and commotion echoing through the streets of Kirkwall as the pain start to crack her into pieces. Tears clinging to her eyes that no one could see because no one moved to look. No one thought about what they had done to her personally. "Please...just say you're sorry. Anders...please just say it love..."
If he said that she would stay her hand. If he just showed some part of the man she knew who put milk out in hope of feeding a few stray cats. Who always worked to help people, not murder them. Who braved the wrath of armed men to save a friend and granted a plea for mercy. That wrestled powerful spirits to keep them from murdering innocent girls that were just afraid.
Anders said nothing, did nothing. No one did. No one pressed at her, no one moved to comfort her, and no one said a word. They left it all on her, weighing her down and crushing the soul out of her as they all waited for her. They all waited for Hawke to act and lead, not realizing how their silence cut and mangled the woman underneath the mantle of Champion. It was Anders' silence though that cut the deepest and drew the most blood. Shattering her as fully as the death of her mother had done...if not crushing the pieces to ash as well.
You're not sorry...
The tears fell now even as Hawke felt her throat tighten until she was sure she would choke. Her stomach rolled and she was sure she would be sick. Her hands were like ice even as she felt herself move. The knife jerked in her hands as it hit cloth, then flesh, and then bone. Her eyes screwed shut and her mouth clenched against bile and the urge to howl her own pain out, for she might as well have driven the knife into her own heart as well. The hot blood on icy hands was scalding acid that had her releasing it as she heard the thump of Anders hitting the ground.
Internally she fell with him, mentally curled on the ground dead with her hand on her lover's head. Externally though she stayed standing, having no idea how her legs did not simply give out. She heard Varric say something about needing to get to the Gallows. Instead of moving though Hawke stood there, her eyes screwed shut as if that might make all of this turn into a bad dream instead of a harsh reality even as she felt the blood on her fingertips drip and slowly start to gum up.
"Hawke?" she heard Varric say then, much closer than before. Fingers circling her forearm and shaking some. "Hawke we need to go. Your sister is going to need your help to survive this mess."
She had to open her eyes then, looking at the body of the man she had loved, and now killed. She could feel all the pain start afresh but forced it down her throat and she was sure swallowing glass shards would have caused less agony. She could only nod at Varric's comment though and turn away as her face lost expression and her eyes lost their fire. Her heart in pieces laying invisible with Anders' body.
I'm sorry...