A/N: This story was written for the 2014 Summer Competition on Facebook's Dragon Age Fanfiction Writer's Group. All of the contestants received a randomly generated topic with both genre and characters to write a story about. It had to be between 10K and 50K words and needed to be completed and posted before 31st August to be eligible for the judging. Since I am a judge for this competition (along with Apollo Wings and Meli Landry), my story is ineligible for any of the awards that will be handed out. However, I wanted to participate with everyone else and this is what happened. I appreciate any reviews you'd like to leave. This is a difficult story to write and is very sad.
Prompt: Title – To Sleep Perchance To Dream. Genre – Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort. Characters – Choice of Mage!Hawke, Fenris, Anders & Leandra
Warning: This story contains a lot of suicidal thoughts, death and tragedy. Please don't read if you are sensitive to any of these subjects. This is your only warning.
Chapter 1: "A Sea of Troubles"
"She'll be ok, Hawke." Anders was saying from somewhere behind her as she, Anders and Fenris walked the tunnels underneath Darktown. "Your mother is a strong and capable woman. She'll be alright. You'll see."
"Stop speaking, mage." Fenris growled at the healer. "You aren't helping."
Marian Hawke ignored both of the men following her. She didn't want to deal with the jealous bickering they tended to get into while on missions with her. She needed them at their best and if they were arguing, this would be a disaster. The tunnels ahead seemed to stretch for miles as she wound her way through the dull and dank place. Water dripped somewhere in the distance. The smell of urine and damp earth assaulted her nose and instead of retching like she wanted to, Marian just breathed through her mouth.
The elf and the mage couldn't sense it, but Marian's nerves were frayed. Turmoil warred with fury, putting her on edge. She was prepared to slit the throat of the first person to cross her path. Shades and abominations appeared from the darkest corners of the tunnels and she cut through each new foe with the rage of a demon.
Twirling her staff over her head briefly, she then brought it to the ground with a thud. Her elemental magic channeled itself through the steel rod before lunging towards the closest abomination. Electricity erupted around the creature, frying it where it stood. Burnt flesh mixed with the other smells of the tunnels, but Marian was too focused to notice. She was determined to kill anything that stood between her and her mother. Nothing would stop her. She would save the woman who raised her if it was the last thing she did.
Marian knew Fenris and Anders were probably staring at her strangely, not completely sure how to handle her sudden burst of destructive energy as she fought the monsters in front of them, but she didn't give a shit. She was sick of people worrying about her. She was sick of worrying about the fucking mage plight. She was sick of dealing with blood mages and possessed Templars. The only person she had left, her mother, was in the clutches of a murderer. Marian didn't know if Leandra was dead or alive, but she wasn't going to give up until she saved her mother or blew the fucker who hurt her to pieces.
The smell of sulfur assaulted her senses and gripping the cold metal of her staff, Marian whirled around to face a Rage demon. Its eyes glowed red hot in a caricature of a face. Something that could be considered skin was pulled tight over its form, gray and twisted like an old tree. Fire burned from inside its body out and Marian wasn't sure if it would bleed liquid fire or regular old blood.
Only one way to find out, she thought as a grim smile spread across her pretty face. The staff she held in her hands wasn't just for focusing her magic through. At one end was a crystal that helped her direct the energies of her electricity and frost spells towards an enemy. The other end, however, was sharpened into a very deadly dagger that could pierce even the toughest flesh.
With a deranged chuckle erupting from her throat, Marian pulled from her pool of mana, a tingle flowing through her veins as the Fade touched her. Whispering the words of Winter's Grasp, she swung the crystal encrusted end of the staff at the demon. Ice coated its skin, glittering in the dim torchlight of the passageway. Spinning the staff in a quick circle, the bladed end collided with the solid ice, shattering the demon into thousands of tiny specks. Her breathing was heavy as she turned around to face her companions.
Brushing her dark hair from her eyes, she caught the strained expressions on both of their faces. With a grunt and slanted topaz eyes, she leaned on her staff as the bladed end sunk into the dirt beneath her feet. "What is the problem?"
Anders and Fenris exchanged a quick glance, neither doing much to hide their concern. The two of them rarely agreed on anything, but seeing them share the same look irritated Marian.
When neither of them spoke, Marian felt her anger flare dangerously. "I have fucked both of you. The least you could do is be honest with me. I've never asked for much else."
Fenris accepted her words as the challenge they were. "You fight as if possessed. It's… worrying."
"Worrying?" Marian spat, at the end of her patience. Anders and Fenris argued worse than two elderly women and if it wasn't about mages, then it was about her. As if she wasn't there. As if she wasn't a person with feelings and desires who cared little for what they thought of her. "My mother is the captive of some psycho and the two of you are fighting over me! Forgive me for not giving a flying nug shit!"
Anders' amber eyes widened at her outburst while Fenris' nostrils flared, obviously heated at her disregard for his distress. She had more important things to worry about than a pissing contest between her two lovers.
"Are you done?" Fenris asked, looking more hurt than she'd ever seen him before.
With a snort, Marian turned away from them and stomped forward. Her emotions were a complete mess. She was hot and cold, fire and ice. One moment, she wanted to cry then the next she wanted to kill something. At least she got to fulfill the second part. Abominations were popping up in her path every few feet.
It wasn't much farther in when the area opened up into something like looked similar to a living space. A small bed had been set up in one corner, a wrinkled and dusty quilt laid out across the straw mattress. A chest was placed at the foot of the makeshift cot, a padlock secured at the opening to keep thieves out. Marian almost wished she had brought Varric with her. He would have made easy work of the blasted latch. Frustrated, she was searching through the papers on a small table by a fireplace when Anders let out a startled gasp.
Glancing up, she saw he was staring at a fixture somewhere behind her. Marian followed his gaze and almost let out her own gasp at the sight that met her eyes. A portrait of a beautiful woman hung over the mantle of the fireplace, but it wasn't the fact that she was attractive that caught Marian's attention. The woman looked eerily similar to her missing mother.
"Hawke…" Fenris' deep voice spoke up from beside her. "That woman resembles your mother, doesn't she?"
Marian's breath caught. As she stared at the painting, her heart began to race. What was this psycho planning for her mother?
"A shrine dedicated to a wife? A sister?" Anders asked no one in particular.
Marian didn't care who this woman was. Her only concern was finding her mother and getting them all out of these dreaded underground passages alive. "I need to find her. Now."
Neither man spoke again as they fought even more ferociously. Time was even more of the essence and Marian wouldn't rest until they'd finish what they'd set out to do. The man the trio was searching for turned out to not be far from his little 'home'. As Marian approached him, she took in his features quickly. Tall, lanky, gray hair slicked back to reveal a prominent widow's peak. His skin was wrinkled with his age. The robes he wore were wrinkled and filthy. He'd clearly been living in the tunnels for some time now. He seemed to sense his guests because a pair of oddly pale eyes glanced up at her.
With a wide smile, as if welcoming an old friend, the man spoke. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."
At the mention of her mother's name, Marian couldn't calm her temper. This man was a threat, to her, to her mother, to her well being and the safety of Kirkwall. She'd end his reign of terror tonight no matter what. This man would feel death's kiss. Allowing her rage to consume her, Marian took a threatening step forward. "Where is she?"
A sadistic grin replaced his genial one. It chilled her blood. "You will never understand my purpose. Your mother was chosen because she was special, and now she is part of something… greater."
"Spare me the demented rambling. Where is she?" Marian was getting sick of these insane blood mages, for that was what he obviously was, and their desire to gain more power. If it wasn't for Merrill's sweet demeanor, she would have put a blade through the elf's heart long ago.
"She's here. She's waiting for you." The man glanced over his shoulder towards a large chair that faced away from them. "I have done the impossible. I have touched the face of the Maker and lived." His attention returned to where Marian stood and a strange expression descended upon his face. He looked as if he were somewhere far away. Somewhere no one else could touch him. "Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is? Love."
The man turned and walked away from them, back towards the chair he'd been standing by when she and her companions had arrived. Marian had a clear idea of who was sitting in the chair, but not knowing what she'd find scared her to death.
"I pieced her together from memory. I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers…" As he spoke, the man's voice became lighter, happier, as if whatever he'd done had been exactly what he needed. Marian could feel dread overtake her and unable to shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, she continued to listen to him speak. "And at last, her face… oh, this beautiful face."
The figure in the chair began to move.
"I searched far and wide to find you again, beloved, and no force on this earth will part us."
The figure, quite clearly a woman wearing a pure white wedding dress, began to turn to face Marian and as she waited to see the face, she knew who it was before her mother's eyes even met hers. The woman who had once been Leandra Hawke was no more. Instead there stood a creature of terrible proportions. The blood mage had done as he'd described and stitched a woman together from the body parts of others. The face was Leandra's, but the rest of her wasn't. Milky blue eyes stared at her and in that single moment, Marian knew the meaning of true fear. She'd faced demons, abominations, darkspawn… but none of that could prepare her for what she saw as she gazed upon the visage of her dear mother.
Marian could feel the pull of magic from the man in front of her, but she couldn't care. Tears clouded her vision, her heart no longer beat normally. It was fractured inside of her chest. The pieces were scattered to the wind and she knew that there was nothing that would mend her again.
Fenris, with his greatsword in hand, rushed the blood mage, intent on killing the man as he pulled on the Fade. Anders put up a spirit shield around Marian to protect her from harm as skeletons began to rise from the ground. She could hear fighting, shouted orders, the screams of the undead creatures, but none of it truly registered. Her gaze was fixed on the dead eyes of her mother. Leandra took a few steps forward, as if trying to reach for Marian, when her legs gave out and she fell to the dusty ground of the tunnel.
Marian ran to her mother as fast as her numb feet would carry her. Sinking into the dirt and shit that covered the ground, the mage pulled her mother into her arms without conscious thought. Leandra's eyes gazed up at her and for a moment, Marian could almost forget the horror that was taking place. That her mother was well and that they were back at the estate, Leandra smiling brightly at her as they laughed about old times in Lothering.
But this wasn't the time for memories. Leandra was dying in her arms and Marian couldn't stop it. Why couldn't she stop it?
The sounds of battle faded and all that was left was nothing. A desolate calm fell over Marian. It was over, but then again, she knew it couldn't end any other way. Her father, Bethany, Carver and now her mother… where would the death end?
"There is nothing I can do." She heard Anders say though the words didn't seem to make sense. "His magic was keeping her alive."
Tears burned her cheeks, warm like fire against her cold skin. Oh Maker, what had she done to deserve this life?
Her mother's head lolled back enough that she could see Marian's face. A sad smile was in place and it nearly destroyed her. "I knew you would come."
Leandra's voice wasn't her own. It was too low, too scratchy to be that of her mother. The thought of being alone invaded her mind, but Marian knew it was not the time to dwell on her pain. That would come later. Her mother was fading fast and she could not waste these last moments on herself.
"Don't move, mother. We'll find a way to help you. I'll-"
"Shh…" Leandra whispered, hushing Marian's words. "Don't fret, darling. That man would have kept me trapped in here. But now… I'm free. I get to see the twins again… and your father. But you'll be here alone."
Teardrops fell from her eyes and to her mother's wax-like skin. It was too hard to keep the despair from engulfing her so Marian let it. "I should have watched over you more closely. I should have…" A strangled sob broke from her throat leaving her unable to complete her sentence.
"My little girl has become so strong. I love you. You've always made me so proud."
With one final breath, Leandra's eyes drifted close. Pulling her mother's body close to her own, Marian finally lost her control. Her cries turned to screams within the small confines of the dark tunnels. Her companions left her to her inconsolable grief.