Isabela thought she would die. Right there and then. It was not feasible to her that she would survive another second after she saw Hawke fall. She ran to her, ignoring the collapse of the Arishok, ignoring any other person there. She only saw Hawke, her eyes shutting as she tried to heal herself, the magic flickering in her hands.
Isabela cradled her in her arms, kissing all over her face. Hawke sighed, her bloody hand reaching up to touch Isabela's cheek. Her hand fell away just as Anders reached them.
Isabela's heart stopped. She was torn from Hawke as Anders tried to revive her, Aveline carrying her kicking and screaming out of the room. Isabela pounded on her back, screaming, threatening, anything to get her back to her.
Aveline dropped her back on her feet when they heard Anders crying. Isabela ran back to Hawke, holding her to her. She sobbed into her hair, kissing her face.
Anders tried to justify, "There was too much damage...her soul already separated, I couldn't...oh Maker..."
Isabela held Hawke in her arms as she stood, covered in her lover's blood. She walked out of the Keep herself, ignoring the stares of the others, ignoring everything else except the body in her arms. She tried not to cry. She just kept walking.
She returned to the Amell estate, laying out her body on the body. Her hair spilled out behind her as Isabela crossed her arms and laid a coin over each eye. Hawke looked asleep, peaceful. She kissed her lover's hands for the last time and she left. There would be a funeral, of course, there would be public mourning for the one who had saved them all. But there would be no place for Isabela there. She had risked her life to save Hawke, it was supposed to be her.
But here her love lay.
Isabela left the room, closing the door. She snuck out into the night, looking for a ship going anywhere. She couldn't stay here, not without her.
oOoOo
Hawke groaned, her body aching. She opened her eyes blearily, panicking. She could remember bleeding, she remembered the touch of Isabela's cheek, but she could not remember how she got here, wherever this was.
She looked up, her vision fading and she saw a woman standing before her. She smiled kindly and looked over to another, giving an instruction. Hawke tried to reach out to her, but found herself falling into unconsciousness.
oOoOo
Hawke woke again in a panic, fighting against the magical restraints around her wrists. She tried to push back and found herself being tackled down by two men. She gasped for breath as she felt the mana sucked out of her body. Templars. Maker, she had been kidnapped by Templars.
She stopped fighting when she saw the woman again, now dressed in white, her black hair braided back.
She instructed, "Hawke is clearly strong enough now. You can go, men. I'm sure she has a lot of questions."
Hawke rubbed her wrists as she was released. She tried to summon her magic, only recognizing the buzz of lyrium in the other woman.
"You're a mage?" Hawke asked in confusion, "But you're working with Templars...I don't understand, what the hell is going on? Why am I here? Who are you?"
She sat beside her, "My name is Miranda. I've been assigned to bring you back to your peak physical condition, Serah Hawke. I mean you no harm. Try to relax. You've been unconscious for almost three years, you need to rest."
"What the hell do you mean three years?" Hawke growled, "Where is this place? What are you doing to me?"
Hawke jumped up, but Miranda sat patiently, almost bored with the display.
Miranda informed, "I work for an organization called Cerberus. We work for the welfare of mages throughout Thedas, ensuring the development of new talent and creating the best possible environment for us. Mages first. We have a few allies here and there with other skills, but they are under our command. We brought you here the night you died, Hawke. You must remember that, do you not?"
Hawke felt a pain in her chest and she sat down. She remembered Isabela...she remembered the fight, she remembered the sword nearly slicing her in two.
"This is blood magic," Hawke whispered.
"It is only a tool," Miranda said, "It took a very long time. We healed your body, anchored your soul back into you. Your bones were even reinforced with the strongest of silverite. You are still you, but simply improved."
"Why all this work just for me?"
Miranda replied, "Change is coming to Kirkwall, to all of Thedas. You have a chance, Hawke. The people respect you, listen to you. You're a symbol of mage freedom and of this very city. They will need you, but we will need you too. You will be working for us as we take down the Chantry. War is coming. We need you to be our Champion."
"You should have let me die," Hawke whispered, "You should have just let me die..."
"Don't be so narrow minded," Miranda argued, "You have a chance to do something great. You've fought for mage rights all your life. Now you have the power to do something about it, backed by all the Tevinter gold you could possibly want. We have the same goals."
"I know about people like you," Hawke retorted, "Any means necessary. I don't want war. I want peace."
"One begets the other," Miranda replied.
The door opened and Hawke turned, seeing Anders standing in the frame. She saw his face pale and they walked to each other slowly. He hugged her softly, as if afraid she was made of glass.
"You're alive," he choked, "They told me they had finally fixed you...oh thank the Maker."
Hawke pulled away, "Where's everyone else? Where's Isabela?"
Anders said quietly, "We all thought you were dead, Hawke. You have to understand. I didn't even know until a few weeks ago myself. They brought me here. They said I might be able to talk some sense into you when you woke up."
"We are intrigued by the possibilities Anders represents," Miranda admitted, "I haven't seen such a beneficial relationship between spirit and mage before. We are happy to have him on our team."
"You've joined them?" Hawke gasped, "How could you? Anders, you saw what they did...you...you were there when we found..."
Miranda apologized, "Quentin's research took some unfortunate turns, but we learned so much-"
Hawke punched her directly in the face, Anders pulling her back. Miranda spat out the blood, healing the bruise quickly.
"That bastard killed my mother," Hawke hissed, "And so many other women. Don't you dare tell me it was worth it because you made a few new potions."
"It was worth it because we were able to bring you back."
Hawke felt incredibly ill. She wanted to hit her again, but the urge to vomit was too strong. She dry heaved, falling to her knees. Anders rested his hand on her shoulder and she shoved it off.
"You should have let me die," she whispered, her hands running through her now short hair, "You should have let me die."
"We need you," Anders said, "You know we can't do this without you. Kirkwall needs a leader."
Hawke laughed darkly, tears streaming down her face. She eventually stood, drying her eyes on her shift.
She asked, "Who else knows I'm alive? A lot of people saw me die."
Miranda replied, "We'll send you out in the field shortly There's already been rumours that you're still alive, people seeing you in crowds. They've been wearing the red mark across their faces, the Mage Underground. It won't be hard to slip you back in. We've been building momentum, we just needed you ready. Of course, you can choose to run out that door and not help us, but I've gotten to know you well these past three years, Hawke. I've chased you into the Fade more times than I can count. I know you won't turn your back on your people now."
Hawke looked to Anders and asked, "Where's Isabela?"
Anders replied, "We all sort of scattered after your...your funeral. No one saw Isabela. She left carrying you from the Keep. Then they found you lying on your bed. There was no note, nothing. I heard she went back to Rivain, but I don't know. Aveline and Donnic got married, they're still here. Everyone else...I guess we were starting to move on."
"She...she just left?" Hawke whispered, her heart thudding in her chest.
"It doesn't matter," Miranda reminded, "It's been three years. I know it's only been minutes for you, but you need to pick up the pace. Any day now, this city could erupt into flames. We need to get your face out there. Now, we've gotten an apartment for you in Lowtown. Your estate needs quite a bit of cleaning, I'm afraid, and the help is already gone. We'll get you set up there after your big appearance. The official word will be that you were in hiding these years, working in secret. We don't need people to be more afraid of blood magic, not quite yet."
"I'm going back to my house," she said, "I don't care."
Hawke stumbled towards the door, Anders catching her arm. He held her elbow as she walked out of the facility, blinking. She looked around, feeling the cool chill of the autumn on her shoulders. It had been spring when she had died. She remembered the pink flowers Isabela had left her on her pillow before she had run.
They reached the Amell Estate by dusk. She broke in through the back and Anders left her alone. She made her way through the dust and cobwebs, looking desperately for anything Isabela could have left for her. But she found herself merely alone in the empty house. No one knew she was still alive, it only made sense that they should move on with their lives.
But it was only yesterday for her. Yesterday that Sandal had chased the door around the house, pretending to be the Dread Wolf in Merrill's stories. Yesterday Oriana was practicing the lute, flustered.
Yesterday Isabela had come back for her.
She slept on the floor in front of the extinguished fireplace, her body still aching.
oOoOo
Hawke woke with a groan, seeing a man stand nearby, his arms crossed as he watched the door.
"Did Miranda send you to babysit me?" Hawke muttered, sitting upright.
"More so bodyguard," he said, "You're an important investment after all. She was worried you'd jump off a bridge or something and we'd have to start all over."
Hawke glared and he laughed awkwardly, "She's a bit of a pessimist. The name's Jacob. I'll be taking you up the Wounded Coast today. There's a group of Templars patrolling the area. We're going to give them a rather nasty surprise. Your friend Anders should be joining us shortly in the Alienage. There's some clean clothes in the bag and some rations. I suggest you get ready."
Hawke rose wearily, grabbing the satchel. She made her way to the study and changed quickly, throwing the shift to the ground. The robes were loose, but they were functional. Her staff still hung on the wall, covered in dust. She picked it up carefully, wiping it off on her sleeve. She strapped it to her back and came back into the foyer.
"Why are we going to there?" Hawke asked.
"We're meeting another of your former companions, Merrill. She's been working for us for about two years. We've assisted her greatly in her personal projects and she has helped us make inroads in the community. Come on now, Serah. We have much to do today."
oOoOo
Isabela entered the Hanged Man, her hands trembling. She had been back in Kirkwall a week, but she had been avoiding returning here. There were too many memories here, too many drunken nights, some pleasant, some less so. She didn't know why she had come back. Things had not changed. And Hawke...Hawke was still gone.
She ordered a drink, sitting down quietly at the bar. She would go upstairs and see Varric, she just needed some confidence first.
She was on her fifth pint when she stumbled outside, feeling sick to her stomach. She took in the slightly fresher air, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
She looked up and saw them. Five mages, the distinct yellow patch of Cerberus embroidered on their robes. She had seen them on and off in her travels, with increasing numbers. She was about to lose interest when she saw Anders and Merrill. She thought about waving to them, but she imagined she would be not exactly welcomed back with open arms. She had abandoned them without a word. And now two friends were involved in...well, frankly, she didn't know what, but she was not optimistic.
She caught Merrill's eye and the elf stopped, waving. Anders gave her a gentle push forward, revealing the mage that had been walking on the other side of them.
Isabela's heart stopped.
The group disappeared into the crowd again and Isabela tried to chase after them. She lost sight of them, a dock worker accidently knocking her to the ground. She got back to her feet, shaking.
Isabela didn't believe in ghosts nor had she been anywhere close to drunk.
Hawke was alive.
oOoOoOo
Hawke readied for bed, unbraiding her hair as she listened to the mages downstairs. Cerberus had basically set up camp in her home, the unit assigned to her scattered throughout the Estate. She had not allowed them in Leandra's old room. It had seemed too morbid. The only place Hawke had found any peace was her old bedroom.
She had been alive again for four weeks. She was less resistant to working with the group, though she did not agree with their methods. But what did it matter? She had no family left, only two friends knew she was alive and both of them were involved in this scheme. There wasn't much for her. She had been brought back for one purpose and she found herself grudgingly fulfilling it.
She heard the window slide open and she grabbed her staff, attempting to knock the intruder out. The intruder grabbed the staff, throwing it across the ground. In the cold moonlight, Hawke saw her face.
"Isabela," she whispered.
Isabela responded by punching her in the mouth.
"Shit," Hawke muttered, spitting out blood.
Isabela hissed, "I thought you were dead, I carried your body. I saw you die, Hawke. Three years. Three years I blamed myself...three years I've been in hell, and you're still living the high life? What, you couldn't bother to write me a letter or-"
Hawke murmured, "I can explain, but you have to be quiet. They'll hear us downstairs. I don't want them to throw you out."
"Who's they?"
"Cerberus. Isabela...Isabela, I was dead. They brought me back. I've only been conscious for the last month at most and Anders told me you were gone and no one had any idea where you were...Isabela, he told me you left, you didn't even go to the funeral, you just..."
"I carried your dead body in my arms," Isabela hissed, tears streaming down her face, "I laid you out, I put coins on your eyes...there was nothing more I could do. I had nothing here and I couldn't face them, knowing you died for me, knowing you died for nothing-"
Hawke interrupted her with a kiss, cupping her head in her hands. Isabela cried and Hawke kissed her, undressing her silently. Isabela stood naked before her, her body slightly changed over the years. Her belly softer, a new scar across her thigh. Hawke hesitated before stepping out of her robes. Her body was scarred, thinner. Isabela embraced her, kissing her softly.
"I died for you," Hawke whispered, "Because I love you. I love you so much. I missed you, I missed you every day. I can't imagine...if it had been you...Isabela..."
Isabela kissed her again and pulled her towards the bed. They kissed for a long time, holding the other in their arms. Isabela's hands dipped south, touching Hawke's sex before dipping her fingers inside. Hawke reciprocated, groaning along with her. Hawke's hands trembled as Isabela thrusted her fingers inside of her, curling them against the perfect spots. Hawke came, shaking as Isabela kissed her again. Hawke could feel Isabela shake around her fingers and she pushed her down into the bed, spreading her legs before kissing her sex. Isabela threw her head back, moaning as Hawke licked every inch of her, her tongue tasting her sweetness. Isabela came twice before Hawke finally stopped, her mouth growing tired.
Isabela returned the favour, her mouth eager and urgent. Hawke tried not to cry out, holding onto Isabela's hair between her fingers. She gasped, shaking. She looked down, seeing Isabela on her knees, touching herself as she thrusted her tongue into Hawke. She came once more and pulled Isabela up in a kiss.
Exhausted and sated, they lay in each other's arms.
Isabela whispered, "I love you."
Hawke smiled tiredly, kissing the top of her head. They fell asleep, finally comfortable beside the other. Hawke didn't care what they said tomorrow when they found them. She had found Isabela again. That was all that mattered now.
