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3. Showdown

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Run-run-run-I'm going to die-run-run-

"Is that all you have?"

Run-run-Shut up-run-health potion crap I'm out-run-run-run-

Millie scrambled around the pillar, barely ahead of another sweep of the Arishok's blade.

Tar bomb? Out. Incendiary? Ditto. Stun bag? Too close-Aargh!

She ducked and the double length of steel imbedded itself inches deep into the marble over her head. She landed a few quick strikes before the massive Qunari wrenched his blade free along with a sizeable chunk of the masonry.

Mommy?

The Arishok paused to shake the rubble loose.

Okay, need more space...

Hawke dove forward, intending to roll under the giant's reach and come up behind for a backstab. Just as she launched herself, he shifted his stance and she slammed face first into hard skin and muscle. There was a sickening crunch in her nose, and as her feet skidded out from under her she frantically threw herself to the side, hearing the clang of the Arishok's blade chopping into the floor behind her.

Scrabbling ungracefully to her feet, Millie ran a few paces and turned, daggers at the ready.

Hello?

There was a surprising lack of Arishok nearby.

Blinking through the mask of nasal gore and sparkly lights in her vision, she made out the massive shape of her opponent standing in an oddly hunched position, sword hanging loosely in his grasp. He let it go with a clatter, uttered a faint mewling noise, and gradually folded over to the floor into a gigantic fetal curl.

"Hawke!"

"Hawke, buddy, you okay?"

Her posse was gathering around her in a babble of excitement and concern.

"Wait, whud...?" Mille's nose already felt like it had ballooned to the size of her head.

"Interesting tactic, sweet thing." Isabela seemed torn between admiration and laughter. "Typically one uses a knee or a foot, but why not go all out indeed?"

"I did a face plad idto his leg-"

"Is that what you're calling it?"

"-ad I thig I broke by dose."

Anders snorted. "Good call." He touched it gently. "I'll have to set it before I can heal it." Millie pushed his hand away.

"Waid, are you sayig I broke by dose od his jugk?"

"His what?" Isabela's eyes twinkled. Aveline had her palm over her face and was shaking her head in despair.

"Jugk! His ju- Adders, leave be alode - his backage, okay?"

"That would appear to be the case," Fenris said dryly.

"Holy crab."

"Hawke, you never cease to impress me," Varric said solemnly. "I now have an entirely new appreciation for the concept of the finishing blow."

"Will you hold still for one minute, Hawke?"

"Hey! Fidishig blow...thad beads I bead hib! Righd? Righd?"

"You certainly incapacitated him," said Fenris, eyeing the pitiful heap of Qun.

"Woo!" Millie leaped up, to Anders' exasperation, and began a war dance. "Yes! I wid! I wid! I ab the Chabiod! Woo-hoo!"

"Gracious in victory as ever." Aveline spoke from behind her palm.

"Hawke, get over here!"

"Id your FACE, Arishok!"

"Strictly speaking, it was the other way around, sweet thing."

"You know," Fenris mused, watching Millie glad-handing the crowd, "I may be able to get some payback for all those 'magical fisting attack' comments now."

Varric cocked an eyebrow at the elf. "You think so?"

"Woo! Righd id the ol' Arishcock!"

"Yes, well, probably not."

"Ow! Dabbit, Adders!"

"I told you to hold still!"