Summary: She's lost so much already. But could this be the last straw? F!Hawke/Fenris

Disclaimer: Phaedra is all mine, but I have nothing else.

Queen's Quornor: So we'll get into the angst in the next chapter. But here's a little something to tide you over, a nice cliffhanger.

Victory...

Thanks to Orsino's distraction, Phaedra and her comrades were able to slip into the Viscount's Keep with minimal resistance. The young woman felt her heart sink upon seeing the many bodies piled about the entrance, but told herself to keep some hope - not all of the nobles were dead. These corpses were all guards.

Fenris joined her as they picked their way up the blood-washed stairs, and leaned close to her.

"You already have the Arishok's respect, Hawke," he breathed. She surpressed the urge to shiver at his proximity, his breath close enough to stir her hair from her ear. "That means you have the right to challenge him to a duel. Without their leader, the qunari will be free to return to Par Vollen."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a fighter," she whispered. She could hear the Arishok's voice now, a booming litany of his views on Kirkwall and its elite.

"You are very good at keeping your distance. He will have no defense against your magic."

"I..." The words caught in her throat as she envisioned the horned behemoth charging towards her, intent on cutting her down. If she slipped, and let the Arishok get close, her baby would die as surely as she would. She cast a worried glance at her one-time lover, wishing she could tell him why she couldn't fight the Arishok.

His calm green eyes told her otherwise. He had utmost confidence in her and her abilities. Phaedra cursed softly - he knew she couldn't deny him anything.

"You don't play fair," she finally sighed.

"Against you, Hawke, fair play is pointless."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The duel had begun, but it certainly had not commenced in the manner Phaedra had expected. Isabella had sauntered in with the Tome of Koslun, proving Merril's earlier prediction that she would return. However, the Arishok wanted the pirate as well, something Phaedra could not allow. True, Isabella had betrayed them, but now she was back. How could the mage simply hand her over to the qunari, when she was risking so much to do the right thing?

So now she faced the Arishok in single combat, with her friends, the nobles, and the qunari looking on.

Well, maybe it's not a duel, her mind whispered crazily, since technically it's two-on-one.

Then the Arishok charged, and the fight began.

Phaedra danced out of his way, hurling a ball of pure cold at him as he collided with the wall. If she didn't slow him down, she'd be a smear on the floor.

The ice was followed with a bolt of lightning, and then she was running, weaving between the room's columns in a mad attempt to keep some distance between her and those swinging blades.

Thus it continued, with Phaedra running for dear life in a small enclosed space and casting spells only when she dared. In a distant corner of her mind, she wondered if any of the great heroes of yore had ever been forced to run in circles in their own legendary duels. She couldn't be the most awe-inspiring figure at the moment.

But knowing Varric, the average citizen would probably believe she tore the Arishok's head off with her bare hands. If she survived.

She should have kept her mind on the fight. The Arishok, growing weaker and weaker with each spell, kicked into a charge just as she rounded a column.

Time seemed to slow as the giant came at her, and Phaedra couldn't dodge this time. She watched with detached interest as the Arishok's massive sword slid beneath her staff, plunging into her abdomen and scraping along her ribs and spine to pierce the back of her robes.

Then he lifted her high into the air, and the agony came on a wave of horrified terror.

"You have lost, Hawke," he panted, raising his axe with a trembling arm.

Phaedra thought of her baby, just beneath the blade impaling her torso.

"No, you dumb son of a bitch. No," she choked.

Grasping the blade with her hands, she forced herself closer to the Arishok, whose dark eyes flashed with surprise. She heard Fenris and Anders shout her name, but she only thought of one thing.

"You're dead."

She pulled her hands away so she fell against the sword's hilt, then called a tempest into his body.