A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction. Since I started my fourth play through with a mage Hawke, this story will not shut up and so here it is on paper. So to speak. I would appreciate any comments and please enjoy.
The time line is left purposefully ambiguous. Currently taking place in Act I, between Fenris and Theresa Hawke, my force mage/spirit healer. And who said a mage hawke can't have a friendly and loving relationship with Fenris! Bah!
She was there again, lost in the Fade. Painfully, agonizingly aware of her time here. Mostly a place of comfort among the more placid spirits of the Fade, but not now. Not since Bethany...her sister...simply gone. They had shared such a special bond, traveling together in the their dreams. The Fade was their garden, a garden that now was simply empty. Filled with regretful memories and lingering shadows.
She couldn't stop it when the shadows took the form of her memories, replaying the events of her sister's death over and over again in the mind. She could smell the ogres foul breath. Watching helplessly, futilely screaming for her sister. Theresa knew that she couldn't save her, that she was in the Fade and none of it was real.
Just when she thought the Ogre would turn to devour her she felt a warm pulse. The Ogre melted away. A warm, lovingly light washed over her. Never did she hesitate to open her eyes when it came, her shadow self the remnants of a spirit that saved her life. She could neither see or hear the spirit clearly but all its meanings were known to her.
It had been with her all her life chasing away the demons and nightmares that plagued her mind, the curse of being a mage. No matter how many times she would curse the spirit, curse being a mage it would always return chasing her nightmares away and easing her suffering. She felt its touch filling her with love and comfort.
"I miss her so terribly." Was all Theresa could force out, she knew she did have to speak for the spirit to know her inner most thoughts she felt the need to hear the words spoken "I know there was nothing else I could have done, but I...Maker I wish it had been me instead of her." It was what the spirit always impressed to her, something do with the Maker and his grand design. She could not help but feel like there was something she could have done to save her.
The spirit knelt closer, enveloping her in it arms. Her head resting over where the spirits heart would be. There was no singular beat but a series of vibrations that resonated where ever the spirit touched her. Closing her eyes she let the spirit comfort her.
She felt the spirits feelings and words, nothing could have been done and the spirit as before was unwilling to let her die yet. Sitting with the spirit in the Fade she allowed herself, as always, to be comforted by the one being that truly understood everything about her.
She slowly and peacefully came to awareness as always after a visit from the spirit in her dreams. Opening her eyes she was aware of Swiftrunner laying across her legs on the narrow bed that was too short for her, her feet hanging off the end of the bed.
She was aware that she was no longer in Lothering, yes she was in Kirkwall in her Uncles squalid house sharing a room with her younger brother that resented her and blamed her for his twins death. Looking in his direction she could see he was still asleep and judging from the window it was just before dawn, the sky behind the torn curtain turning a pale blue.
She lay in bed for a few more minutes allowing herself to digest everything that happened in her dreams. Where she would be without this spirit astounded her. It gave her so much strength and an otherwise hard and lonely life. Swiftrunner huffed at her when she began to stir.
"Shhhh." She cooed quietly at him "Don't wake him, I'll take you out now before the people are out."
He made a quieter huffing sound before jumping off the bed waiting patiently for her to wash her face and hands and don a clean, well most clean, dress and soft shoes. She would prefer to go barefoot but the streets were dangerously unkempt. Leaving the house quietly, careful not to wake her mother or uncle she took Swiftrunner out for a walk in Lowtown before the bustle of the day.
It turned out to be a pleasant morning. They stopped down by the docks to watch the sun burn off the morning fog, watching it rise over the water. She smiled, feeling an overwhelming since of peace. When she heard the dock hands starting to stir she rose gazing at her hound.
"Come, lets return before it gets busy." She smiled at him when he barked at her.
She stopped by some of the earlier opening shops and bought food for the day. When they returned home everyone was still sleeping, it wasn't more than an hour past dawn. Her dreams often woke her early, unable to sleep afterward, she usually the first one up. Starting on breakfast with Swiftrunner's help of course, she began getting ready for the day being sure to pack some of her cooking for Varric.
Carver was the first one to step out. He watched her for a few moments, he was always jealous of all the attention she got even if it was unwanted. No one ever saw him or he had to work really, really hard to get it only to have her steal it without a thought. He swallowed his rising anger and stopped next to the cooking pot.
"You were tossing and turning last night...again" he added after a moment as if it had disturbed him terribly, it had but not the way he was willing to admit.
She was didn't immediately respond. He grew impatient with her, grabbing her shoulder and turning her to face him when she stood. He searched her face but obviously didn't find what he was looking for and frowned.
"What do you want me to say, Carver?" she asked softly.
"Can't you make those...things..." he had no other words for them " stop?"
"Not every bad dream is plagued by demons Carver." She replied prying his hand off her arm.
"Isn't it?" he asked in an accusing tone.
"I'm not going to argue with you about my dreams Carver, I just don't have to energy to fight with you." She said looking rather weary herself, worry lines having taken hold of the corners of her eyes and at the corners of her mouth, it had even started graying her hair. "Besides we have work today, we have a promise to keep. So get ready." She said changing the subject and moving away from both the pot and her brother.
Varric was up and waiting for them when they arrived, not that he was happy about being up so early. He was waiting for them in his suite.
"I hope you brought me something to make up for being up at this ungodly hour, Hawke." He groused at her when she walked in.
She smiled as warmly as she could "I didn't forget." She said quietly, handing him the still warm and steaming bundle "hot off the cook fire."
"I'm going out to the Taproom," Carver said suddenly not wanting to be near his sister.
"All right..." she said her voice trailing away at his retreating form. She looked back at Varric and smiled "I have a promise to keep on the top of a mountain. You up for it?" she asked trying to sound cheerful.
"Ready as always, Hawke." He said between bites.
She smiled at him, suddenly very glad she met him and that he agreed to help her and her family. It was nice to finally have a friend.
She closed the journal, her fingers lingering over the embossed cover. Wolves howling at the moon. It reminded her of Bethany. Bethany had given it to hear just before they had to flee Lothering, it was the only thing she could grab beyond what was in her hands when they fled. She was grateful that she had the chance to grab it.
"What's that?" Anders asked taking a seat across from her.
"My journal, it was a gift from my sister." She explained slipping the leather bound book into her canvas bag, another memento from Lothering.
"It's beautiful." He said "like..." he was cut off when Varric came up to the table with two tankards and a glass of water. Like you, he though sullenly displeased by the interruption.
"I don't know how you drink the water here Hawke." He griped setting her glass down "Here you go Blondie." Handing Anders a tankard "where's that elf anyhow?" he asked sitting down in his usual spot.
"I don't know. I haven't seen him today, I thought I would stop by on my way to the Chantry." She replied.
"The Chantry?" Anders asked "Why would you go there?" he asked he tried hard to keep the anger out of his voice. Talking about the Chantry gave his voice a hard edge.
"That is personal business on my part." She said firmly, though the volume of her voice had not increased, staring at him "Not all of us hate the Chantry, Anders. Some of us find peace there."
Varric coughed at the tension rising at the table. "Well..." he began " I have had my ear to the ground and I may have some work for us."
"Not more smuggling jobs?" she asked.
"Not sure yet, nothing concrete but I will talk to my contacts. "
She left her water untouched, rising from the table. "I'll see you two tomorrow."
She stared at his door for a long time from the Chantry steps. Sighing she felt it was too late to pay him a visit and retreated into the Chantry for some much needed prayer. The door to the chantry opened in front of her and she stood face to face with a young brunette coming out to light the torches.
"Your pardon, miss." His accent thick and unfamiliar.
He had a kind face, expressive eyes and a comforting demeanor. He held the door open for her, stepping out of her way. She smiled at him when she stepped past. He must have sense something was wrong or saw it in her face. Letting the door close behind her he stepped to catch up with her.
"Are you all right miss?" he asked touching her elbow.
"Oh." She gave a short chuckle "I am that transparent?" she asked.
"You looked like you needed to talk. I can take your confession if you like. " he offered guiding her to a more private area of the chantry where they could talk "My name is Sebastian." He introduced himself smiling, "What is your name?"
He had such a disarming smile. She couldn't help but relax and trust him. "Theresa Hawke. It's true I came her seeking solace. I just didn't expect to find it so quickly. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me."
"Take your time Theresa." He said squeezing her hand "I have lots of time."
"What about the torches?" she asked.
"Another brother will light them. You seem to need me more at the moment. Where are you from Theresa, I haven't seen you in here before."
"Lothering." She was looking at her hands as she said it.
His heart sank, he could only imagine what could be weighing so heavily on her. "I heard what happened there. A terrible loss of life. "
"I lost my baby sister to the darkspawn when we fled." She started "Both my mother and my brother blame me for her death."
It was like opening a flood gate, once open it came pouring out. Sitting quietly beside her he waited it out for her to finish letting it out.
"Now it plagues my dreams," her voice had become tight and the tears unbidden fell from her eyes "and my brother keeps picking fights with me. I don't know how much more of this I can take. " he barely made out her last words as they were nearly choked out by her sobs. Anything else she may have said he couldn't understand, but the amount of pain she was in was evident. He held her like he would a child, waiting for her to let everything out.
"The Blight has been hard on everyone from Ferelden," he spoke to her softly, handing her a cloth to clean her face "know that you have done no wrong in the eyes of the Maker." He said softly "The Maker holds them now, they live in peace. Take solace in that knowledge."
She thanked him quietly taking the cloth she cleaned the tear stains from her cheeks and wiped her nose. She took a few deep breaths. When she looked up he was glad when he saw her mood lighten.
"Thank you, Sebastian."
"No thanks are needed for doing the Maker's work." He replied "I will walk you to the door."
She took his out stretched hand and followed him through the Chantry to the door. Releasing her arm he opened the door for her, holding it open. Giving him one last smile before stepping out.
