Storming the Coast
"Of course, you must look me up the next time you're in Rivain," Isabela's smile curled wickedly across her face. "I'm always happy to entertain my friends."
She received nothing in return and huffed out a short breath, her hands on her hips as her eyes swept over them. The gathered remnants of their group were quietly collecting their meager possessions and disembarking from the small landing dinghy, silence hanging over them like a cloud. Garrett wished he could summon a smile for her, but he felt like all his smiles had curdled to dust back in Kirkwall.
He managed a grimace, just to give her something for her troubles, before he gave up entirely.
"Thanks for the ride, Bela," he muttered, clapping one hand to her bare shoulder. "I know it was out of your way."
Isabela sniffed, doing her best to maintain a breezy air of sultry unaffectedness.
It set his teeth on edge. Everything did that now-a-days.
"Of course," she said, "I couldn't leave you behind to be interrogated by that horrible Cassandra bint." Garrett saw Cullen's shoulders tense, but the Templar said nothing. He heaved his worn leather pack out from the bottom of the boat onto the shore before turning to Merrill and offering her his hand. Merrill, still deeply green from the voyage eagerly accepted the help and scrambled out of the boat, unsteady on her feet as she took refuge on the steady shore. Garrett pulled his own pack up and out of the pile. He strapped it to his back, carefully checking each buckle and snap before looking back up to see Isabela studying him, her face closer to serious than he had seen it since the Arishok.
The boat rocked as first Bethany and then Carver jumped out and into the shallow water. A few drops of water hit his side.
"Garrett," Isabela stepped a little closer. She was sure-footed on the unsteady surface in a way none of them could hope to match. "I want you to be careful."
"You know me, Bela, I'm always careful." Maker, he couldn't even lie right anymore. What kind of rogue was he?
Isabela reached up and cupped his face in her hands, fingers brushing across the fine cuts on his skin. A gift from the explosion no doubt. "Do not die, Hawke." She held his gaze for a few long seconds before patting his cheek twice and stepping away, her loose smile firmly back in place.
"Now, get off my boat. I have place to be, people to fuck."
Garrett nodded to her. The others were all off the boat now, only he and Anders remained, face pressed against the siding and arms thrown over the side. Garrett smiled at him, forcing the cracks he was beginning to feel down for his sake. Anders wasn't moving, he had not even attempted to sit up or get out of the boat, but he managed to turn his head and peer up at him, eyes clouded and confused. Garrett reached down and slid his arm under Anders, lifting him to his feet.
"Come on, love," he whispered into the other man's hair. Anders' head tilted so it rested against his shoulder. His breath was even and still smelled like the potion Isabela had found for them, acrid in Garrett's nose and affecting in just its smell. She had refused to allow Anders on her ship unless he was contained, either with a potion or ropes. Fenris had argued fiercely for both but Garrett put his foot down. It wasn't Anders' fault, Vengeance did those things, Anders did not deserve the punishment.
"Where're we?" Anders slurred and Garrett's gut clenched. He hated this. It wasn't fair or right.
"Home," he said as he negotiated the edge of the boat, careful to avoid the few protruding nails as he delivered Anders safely to the shore. "Welcome to Ferelden."
"Nooo," Anders groaned. "Don't wanna be back."
Garrett hadn't known Anders had ever been to Fereldan. He filed the knowledge away to ask about later, when Anders was sober again and in a more agreeable mood. His boots splashed into the water and he looked up to see that the others had already reached the shore. They had paused next to a large piece of driftwood. Carver and Merrill were sitting on the log with their sides pressed against each other. Cullen stood in front of them, he shoulders tense and his head turned slightly towards Garrett and Anders. Garrett could not wait for the other man to hurry up and leave them all alone. He did not think Merrill or Bethany were terribly comfortable having the Knight Commander around, and he knew Anders was going to be much happier once they were free of him.
He started slogging his way towards shore. Anders feet were slow, but he tried to help as best he could. Garrett felt fondness for the man twist his heart. It hurt. Everything about this situation hurt. But he had a plan. They were going to fix it. He reached the shore and made his way slowly towards a large rock slightly away from the others. Leaning Anders against it, Garrett made himself busy for a moment making sure he was comfortable before he turned back to group. Anders lifted one clumsy hand to brush his back, fingers lingering at the base of his spine before they fell away. The touch felt like home and he resisted the urge to lean into it, there would be time for that later, when Anders was free.
Fenris watched him, pinning him in place with an acidic glare that seemed heavier than anything Garrett had ever felt. Garrett shifted slightly, shielding Anders from his view.
"Well," he said, clapping his hands together and forcing a bright smile. "Shall we find a more sheltered place to post up?"
"What?" Carver asked. He looked up from the boot he had been trying to scrape the sand from. Merrill's eyes were wide as she looked between Garrett and Carver, mouth popping open and closed like a little fish. Maker but Garrett hoped Carver wasn't about to turn this into a whole thing. He'd really thought they were making progress recently.
"What what?" Garrett parrotted back. "We need to find a safe place to rest before we get to work on saving Anders."
Cullen snorted and the tension in Garrett's gut ramped up.
"Garrett," Bethany started to say, stepping towards him with her arm outstretched. Her palms were bandaged from where they had been burned in the aftermath, angry red marks peeking out from the edges of the stained linen. Anders would have to fix that when he was better. She looked apologetic, expression so much like their mother's it was scary, and Garrett suddenly had no desire to hear what she was about to say.
"We are going to help him, right? That's why we're all here?"
"No." That was Fenris, firm and certain and exactly what Garrett feared.
"I mean, I know not everyone is here for that," Garrett said. He knew he sounded a little desperate. "Knight Captain Cullen is leaving of course, but-"
"Yes," Cullen said. His armor shone in the sun that was just beginning to peek through the clouds, bright and offensive against all of their much more sensible leathers and dark plate mail. Garrett eyed the flaming sword with distaste. He didn't know how Merrill was so comfortable around him, but she seemed enchanted by him, having hung on his every word on the rare occasions he spoke during their journey across the sea. Perhaps she thought he was handsome, although Garrett had never quite understood the appeal. His hair reminded him of overcooked pasta and he smelled of arrogance. Nice eyes, though.
"In fact," Cullen continued, turning his back fully to Anders and Garrett for the first time since they had left Kirkwall. "There is something I have been meaning to ask." He turned to Carver, lowering his voice enough that it was hard for everyone to hear him. "I must make for Haven with all haste if I'm to arrive in time for the start of the Conclave."
"Why do they want you again?" Garrett couldn't help but ask, a bite of unkindness in his voice. "I mean you of course did a stellar job in Kirkwall with the mages and all but-"
"Garrett!" Bethany hissed.
"Bee!" He snapped back, surprised to see Fenris' hand twitch towards his blade. He wished he would take it up. Garrett was suddenly spoiling for a fight. There was a real task ahead of them; Anders needed them focused and here they were talking travel plans.
"Seeker Cassandra has requested that I report on the situation in Kirkwall to the Conclave," Cullen cut in. He sounded very dry and official and Garrett wanted very badly to hit him. "Carver, I hoped you might accompany me? I could use your perspective on the events."
The breath rushed from Garrett's chest. Of course Carver wouldn't go, he would stay with-
"Right, of course," Carver said. He leaned down and pulled the boot back onto his foot, stomping his foot for good measure to make sure the fit was right. He'd done that since he was a child wearing Garrett's hand-me-downs. "Merrill?"
Merrill was nodding and Garrett's stomach sank directly to his feet.
"Oh yes," Merrill chirped, "I would like to see this very much, all those important people in one place!"
Carver's face was soft. He wrapped his hand around Merrill's and turned back to Cullen as he pulled her to her feet.
"There's still plenty of light, we could make it to the road before dark if we get going now."
"Wait-" Garret tried. But, Bethany had stepped forward and was wrapping her arms around first Carver and then Merrill, placing soft kisses on each of their cheeks.
"I expect letters at least once a week," she informed them. "Any less often and I will be forced to hunt you down."
Carver grinned at her, "Of course, Bee." He pulled his pack up from the ground and onto his back before looking Garrett dead in the eye. "Take care," he said. Garrett opened his mouth to respond but could find no words. They were leaving, really leaving. Anders was still drugged and limp and needed their help and they were leaving. Carver stared at him for a long, silent minute before turning to Cullen. "Come on," he muttered, "Let's get on the road."
They left. Garrett stared after them, shocked and more than a little hurt. He and Carver had been getting along so much better, he even thought- well, it did not matter what he had thought now.
Bethany followed them for a few paces, hands gripped tightly together in front of her stomach. It had been many years since she had lived with Carver in the same house, but Garrett imagined this pain was much worse. If Garrett was not so blinded by his own anger, he might have moved forward to comfort her, but instead he found himself pinned in place, anger and panic and fear washing over him in waves.
"He'll be safe," Bethany said after a long moment, voice shaking slightly.
"You'll help me right?" The words tore themselves from his throat without his permission. He'd planned to ask her more carefully, when they had settled in camp for the night and he had managed to pry her away from Fenris' constant, and quite frankly unnecessary, chaperoning. She turned back to him, eyes wide. The water from the ocean made the fine hairs around her forehead stick to her skin, making her look a bit like a drowned rat. She wrung her hands together more tightly, her normally tanned skin so pale it was almost translucent.
Garrett stared at the two of them, solid and secure next to each other and felt his eyes prickling. They weren't going to help. Oh, Maker. He was going to have to to do this on his own.
"Fine," he said. He yanked the straps of his pack tighter, they were cutting into his shoulders now. "Fine," he said again.
"Garrett," Bethany said. Her voice was very small. He looked up. She did not look sorry, only sad.
"What, Bee?" he snapped. "Because, unless you're about to say of course I'll help you save the man you love, frankly I don't want to hear it!" He voice had risen by the end so he was very nearly shouting. Bethany took a small step backwards and Fenris a small step forward. Garrett turned away from them.
Anders was still leaned against the large rock. His eyes tracked Garrett as he moved close, although he wasn't sure if he could really see them, see him.
"Hey, love," he whispered, "Let's get someplace more comfortable, yeah?" Anders did not respond. Garrett reached out and carefully maneuvered Anders' arm around him. He stood, pulling the other man to his feet and turned back to Bethany and Fenris, unable to contain his bubbling anger any longer. "You know, when Danarius came, we stood by you."
Fenris' lip lifted in a snarl, the lyrium markings beginning to glow ever so faintly. His hands curled into fists as he started towards Garrett.
"If you weren't so foolishly besotted you would see that Anders is not me, he's Danarius," Fenris bit out. "You just don't want to give up the only man stupid enough to give you the time of day."
"Yes, how dare I think the best of someone else, you vint fucking bastard." Garrett started looking around for a place to lean Anders if this came to blows.
"I think the abomination's dick has-"
"Fen, stop." Bethany's voice was quiet, barely audible over the wind coming off the waves, but it cut through them both. Garrett stared at her. She was very pale, her eyes wide and her hands limp by her sides.
"Fine," he said. "I'm going." He turned on his heel and left as quickly as he could with Anders dead weight at his side. There was a cliff ahead of them with a small copse of trees atop it. Before all this he'd been thinking about suggesting it to the others as a safe place to camp out. Now, well, it would be just as good for two as seven.
The trek up from the beach was difficult, made all the more hard by having to fight the urge to look back every few steps to see if Bethany was watching him. He didn't know which would be worse; if she wasn't, if she'd turned away from him entirely or if she was watching him struggle without stepping in to help.
Eventually he reached the edge of the sand. Slowly, the few small pebbles grew in size and became boulders, grass straggled through the stone, and then suddenly it was like they weren't at the beach at all. Even the air smelled less salty as they stepped into the trees. Garrett steadily climbed the thin game trail upward, looking for any hint of shelter. The sky looked like rain and he had no desire to try and keep flames alive in an ocean storm.
Then, for the first time in weeks, their luck turned. Ahead, at the end of the trail, was a small, worn fisherman's cabin. It looked long deserted but still sound. He kicked the door open, breathing in the musty air with a grimace. There was a tatty bed just off to the side that he carefully laid Anders down on before collapsing into the solitary chair. It creaked with his weight. Anders twisted his head to look at Garrett, eyes starting to clear for the first time since they left Kirkwall.
"Hey," Garrett said, "Are you with me?"
"Mmm," Anders hummed. "Maybe."
Garrett smiled at him.
"Good," he said. "We're going to get you fixed. I promise."
Anders smiled back.
Obviously this is an AU in which all the Hawke siblings live! This is a collaboration with Nytewing, if you want to check their stories on here. We're so excited to explore this story!
Warnings moving forward: Violence on par with canon, pervasive language, and fade to black sensuality.