A/N: A one-shot connected to my future storylines. Seen from Varric's point of view.
*Vigilance is the quest item sword of the Warden Commander at the end of Dragon Age: Awakenings.
**Yes, Varric's poem is an allusion to Shakespeare.
The sound rang throughout the square, metal against metal ringing in their ears.
Everyone cringed, expecting the worst. After everything that has happened tonight, what else where they to expect? Varric Thetras tightened his grip on Bianca, and stared up to see who dared block the Champion of Kirkwall, Aedrian Hawke's killing blow.
What the hell is going on? Varric thought. The Champion of Kirkwall, his enchanted mace crackling with the power of a hundred thunderstorms was locked in an intense stare with a woman no less formidable in stature. Though smaller than Hawke, this woman stood her ground, copper brown hair blowing in the ill wind while in her hand, a sword of intricate craftsmanship and power parried the blow that would have ended Anders' life.
Varric took note of the sword in her hand, the storyteller in him immortalizing every detail in his mind. Why does it look so familiar? He had heard stories of this weapon and its description; had seen countless copies attempted by master blacksmiths to mimic its creation. Vigilance. If that sword is Vigilance, then this woman is…
Anders finally opened his eyes, looking up from his defeated slump on the ground. "Commander?" he breathed.
Well, well, well. The plot thickens, Varric thought.
"I am sorry, Champion," the Grey Warden Commander said, addressing Aedrian Hawke and ignoring Anders completely. "Justice will be served today, but not this way. There are greater things at stake than Kirkwall, mages and templars…"
"And keeping this maleficar alive will save the world?" Fenris spat at her.
"Yes," she said calmly, glancing behind her as if to confirm her answer with a hidden ally. From the shadows behind her a form appeared and Varric heard Isabela cussing for not noticing the rogue early on.
"Nathaniel Howe," Aedrian said, remembering the dark-haired Grey Warden they met in the Deep Roads.
"Champion," Nathaniel said, bowing his head. "The Commander is, unfortunately, correct. There is a bigger threat to the world, and we will need all of our allies – alive – to defeat it."
"But – I – blood is in my hands! Let Hawke pay blood with blood," Anders cried, desperation in his eyes. He has come undone before their eyes, each companion no longer recognizing the mage they once called their friend.
Both the Commander and Nathaniel Howe stared at their former companion with pity. Varric watched with held breath, wondering what his leader would do. Aedrian Hawke lowered his mace slowly. The Champion of Kirkwall, Aedrian Hawke and the Hero of Ferelden, Warden Commander Alissandra Cousland shared a look of understanding. Then, in one swift flick of her wrist, the Commander's hand brought the hilt of her sword to Anders' temple, sending him to crumple on the ground.
"I'm sorry, old friend, you have no say in this anymore," she said.
Aedrian, ever practical, nodded once, as if considering the matter already settled and moved on to the situation at hand.
"The templars plan to massacre every single mage in this city. I condemn Anders and his actions but I will not have innocents die for one mage's act of terrorism," Aedrian said, looking at Fenris the whole time. The elf angrily shifted his gaze to the ground, as if accepting his leader's decision, though anger remained burning in his eyes. "Will you help us, Commander?"
"Of course," the Warden Commander said without pause. "Though it is against our rule to intercede in such matters… but there will be no mention of this outside this company." She gave a sideways glance at Varric.
So, my reputation as a storyteller precedes me, he thought.
"Your secret is safe with us, Warden," Varric smiled.
As the Champion began barking tactical orders at his companions, taking each person's strengths and weaknesses into account, the Hero of Ferelden let out a call and two more shadows revealed themselves to be Wardens.
"Carry Anders to our safe house. Tell Velanna to heal him but keep him sedated until I return. Tell Zevran and Oghren to meet me at the entrance to the Circl. Tell them to be ready for the fight of their lives."
Varric felt shivers running up and down his spine, and not in anticipation of the battle. It was the idea of seeing these two great figures in battle, side-by-side. As they began to make their way towards the Circle tower it was no surprise to anyone when the Hero of Ferelden began to jog alongside the Champion of Kirkwall at the head of their party.
Two heroes, both alike in nobility, in the city of Kirkwall, against forces unseen, Varric composed the opening of this story in his head, his steady footfalls serving as meters to the rhythm of the poem. What an opening to an epic. He would be lauded all over Thedas for this tale. But no…
"What a big tragedy," Varric muttered under his breath.
"I agree, Ser Dwarf. This is indeed a great tragedy," Nathaniel Howe said beside him.
"A tragedy: the greatest story ever told and I cannot tell of it."
