Title: Questioning Beliefs
Author: Maqeurious
Game: Dragon Age 2
Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian
Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had.
Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.
Things take a strange turn, leading Sebastian and Hawke into a desperate situation.
Give me mercy
"HOW MUCH? Did the Maker Himself descend to sire the beast?" Isabela kicked her heel against the stable door and frowned. All she wanted was a bloody horse capable of carrying them to the coast, but that was proving more difficult then she first imagined. To be completely honest though, she'd rather walk. Her glorious ass belonged on a boat, not on the back of a smelly equine.
"It's like I said lady, he's all I got and you won't find another for sale in Chiglas." The bastard made a good point, but he didn't have to be so damned smug about it! She'd already searched the rest of the village for stockbreeders, but with so many traveling or escaping lately, horses were in high demand - but low supply.
"But ten sovereigns? That's preposterous!"
"He ain't a bleedin' farm horse missy," the salesman snapped, "he's a pure stallion. He's had endurance training and used to serve in the city guard in Nevarra. He's tough and worth every single coin. Take it or leave it!"
Behind them, Sebastian was pacing, watching with mild interest. Isabela was off on another tirade disputing the price. The horse was of good stock, but even he thought ten sovereigns was pretty steep.
A tiresome yawn overcame him. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning in his bed, the pirates words echoing in his mind. Did he really seem that desperate to kill Hawke? Was he that willing? Looking around for her, he spied Hawke sitting on the steps of the local chantry mussing the mabaris shaggy fur. She still looked half dead from lack of sleep and he wondered if she really did stay in the tavern after all. At least she looked like she'd had a chance to bathe. Her dirty blonde hair now shone with life, the bulk of which was pulled back into a loose ponytail while fly away strands framed her heart shaped face. Every now and then Merc would pounce around her and she'd smile, her emerald eyes coming alive if only for a second. Her smile was still the same, he realized. It still inspired hope in him where he thought there was none. But, according to Isabela, she hardly ever smiled these days. It was a shame. She was beautiful when she did.
"Full pouting lips. Green come-hither eyes. Slim swaying hips-" Sebastian shoved his hand over Isabela's mouth, muffling the remains of her sentence. He narrowed his eyes at her. How this woman seemed to get the jump on him every time frustrated him.
"Are you quite done?" he asked, unamused.
Isabela's eyes flashed and he felt a smile creep over her lips. She nodded. Sebastian removed his hand, against his better judgment.
"Oh come on, I'm just teasing." She thumbed to the steed behind her. "The bastard was tough but I managed to knock him down to seven sovereigns. Ten Sovereigns.. I swear!"
Up close, the horse was magnificent. It's coat was a deep black/blue that shimmered when he walked. He made Pudding look like a nag in comparison. "So all we have to do now is decide our route."
"We'll go south to Cumberland." Hawke suddenly appeared beside them, straightening the various buckles on her leather cuirass. "But we might come into some trouble. Word has it that tevinter magicars have been seen there, and with the troubles between the circles and the templars, well..." she shrugged and looked away.
He could guess what she was about to say. In the smaller villages it was easier for her to remain anonymous. But in a big city like Cumberland she'd easily be recognized as not just the Champion of Kirkwall, or even the run-away viscount. But as the woman who led the slaughter against the Kirkwall circle. The last thing she needed was a pack of magicars on her tail.
"And our alternative?" he asked her.
"We head back towards Nevarra City. From there we cut through the Fields of Ghislain and end up in Val Royeaux. Once there we can either follow the Imperial Highway around Orlais on foot, or cross the channel from the city. No matter which we choose, we'll have to pass over the Frostback Mountains, and at this time of year it's going to be... well, near impossible."
"That's just great," Isabela huffed.
So their options were limited. Either head to Cumberland and possibly go up against tevinter imperialist. Or take the long way, which could add days if not weeks to their journey, and brave the mountains only to die an icy death. Sebastian sighed. There had to be a better way.
"There's no point in delaying the inevitable," Hawke said, "we might as well take the most direct route."
"But-"
"Don't worry about it," she cut in, interrupting Isabela, "we'll stay low and avoid as much attention as we can. We'll head east until we hit the bridge, then go south to Cumberland. Once there we can take a boat to Jader, it's only half a days ride to Orzammar, and from there we can continue south to Redcliffe."
It seemed a solid plan. Foolish, but solid. The last time he'd been to Cumberland the presence of magicars were only minor. But with the uprising came an influx of mages, rife with ability and perfect for slavery. If they could be caught. Between the templars and the magicars, Sebastian didn't know which fate was worse.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked her, "if they catch you, Maker knows what they'll try to do to you." Not that.. he.. cared or anything.
Deciding to ignore his question, Hawke said, "Pack the mounts and we'll be off. We should reach the Imperium Bridge by mid afternoon if we leave right now." Then she was gone, leaving himself and Isabela to tend the horses while she resumed her place on the chantry steps, once again doting love on her trusty sidekick. He rolled his eyes.
o.O.o
Hawke shuffled uncomfortably. Sharing the saddle with Isabela was a giant pain in the ass. The buxom pirate at her back kept fidgeting, pushing her further up the saddle making her thighs rub against the brawny leather. Each time she managed to wriggle herself back, she'd squish into Isabela's chest which elicited a very colorful array of suggestive comments that were quickly becoming old. She was going to have a nasty rash by the end of the day.
They'd been riding – painfully, for most of the day at a gentle pace. She wasn't in any hurry to get to Cumberland. If it were up to her she'd rather be at battle with Sebastian. Finally. She'd waited so long for this chance. It was what she wanted. No it wasn't. It was what she deserved. Don't be stupid! It was her right to die in battle with him. No..no..NO! Hawke wanted to slap herself. Those voices had no place in her head.
He rode slightly ahead, concentrating on the path. The road that stretched between Nevarra City and Starkhaven followed the twisting curves of the Minanter River, and was the only means of safe passage for the dozens of villages that settled in between. Usually the roads were quiet. One or two people at the most, traveling from village to village or village to city to peddle their wares. Today, however, the road seemed much busier. They'd already passed a few groups of people, all looking the worse for wear and carrying very little if anything at all.
As they finally reached the Imperial Highway Bridge that lead south to Cumberland, she noticed a slew of people gathered around the bridge entrance. Once they got closer she could pick out small snippets of conversation.
'It was horrible...' '...so many dead...' '…to Nevarra...Cadfer is in ruins...'
Hawke had to do a double take. Did she hear them right? Did that man just say Cadfer? Her horse come to a halt before she realized it. Sebastian, too, had slowed his advance and was caught up in the gossiping. The color had drained from his cheeks, his face carved like stone.
'How could this have happened?' 'dead...all dead...' '...bandits everywhere...'
Sebastian vaulted off his horse in one leap, landing solidly and approached the small gathering with haste. "What did you say?" he asked, tripping over the words as they came faster then his mouth would move, "what was that about Cadfer?"
Breaking away from the group, one of the older gentlemen turned to him; his face scarred and fleshly wounded. "Aye Ser, I said Cadfer. Our home was raided by bandits and mostly burned to the ground. They came out of no where, a group of twenty or so."
Sebastian almost buckled at his knees, "Do you know of Madoc Casca?" he said desperately, clutching at the poor mans shirt, "does he travel with you?" His gaze passed over the crowd of people that milled around. Sad, hard-pressed faces that spoke volumes of the horror they had witnessed. Women and children were clinging to each other, and he noticed a disturbingly low number of men. He could only guess they'd stayed behind to defend their escape. His heart sank a little, they'd most likely be dead by now.
"He isn't here that I know of," the old man replied after a few moments, "last I saw his farmhouse was ablaze and he was no where to be seen."
"Are you certain?" Sebastian turned, his hand once again latching onto the old mans shirt, "does he still live?"
"I...I'm sorry Ser, I do not know."
Frustrated, Sebastian turned on his heels and mounted his horse, kicking poor Pudding with such a force she reared up before taking off in a full gallop.
Hawke watched him leave, absolutely dumbfounded. Behind her, Isabela groaned, "Great!" she exclaimed, "what do we do now? We can't let that idiot go off alone, he'll get himself killed if the raiders are still around."
"And what am I supposed to do about that," Hawke said nonchalantly, taking up the slack on the reins and turning her stallion, "he didn't ask for my help."
Isabela craned her neck, trying her best to let Hawke see the disgusted look she now held. "Makers breath girl, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that." With a start, she kicked herself off the horse, planting a very firm foot on the ground and spun towards the champion. "Take the horse," she growled, jamming her hands on her hips, "go after him you idiot! Put this silly feud behind you for just a moment and help the boy."
Hawke was about to argue, when Isabela cut her off. "I'll go to Cumberland ahead of you. I'll try and dig up some information on Tobias and charter us a boat. I'll wait for you two to arrive."
"I can't let you do that," Hawke said, shaking her head, "it's too dangerous for you to go alone."
Isabela threw her head back, roaring with laughter. After catching her breath she took the stallion by his bridle and led them through the throng of refugees. "Please Hawke, I'm not a child. I've had my fair share of dealings in Cumberland. I know some people, of less then reputable fame. I'll be fine. Besides... we have a friend there." Turning to Hawke, she flashed the bewildered champion a wink. "Just hurry and go after out fair prince. He's going to need your help." Her hand came down hard on the stallions hindquarters, sending him rearing and neighing his displeasure before galloping away at top speed.
Isabela watched them leave, quickly becoming nothing more then a cloud of dust. Merc followed closely behind. This was going all kinds of wrong. Turning back to the fleeing villagers, she blended in as much as she could thinking quietly to herself that maybe some time alone together might heal their fractured relationship. They were friends once. Happy. Each helping the other. But that was a long time ago now and so much had happened since then. Still, she thought with a smile, time does heal all wounds. Letting her mind settle she allowed herself to get lost within the crowd and readied her legs for the long, long walk that lay ahead.
o.O.o
Hawke followed at a lengthy distance, pushing her stallion to his limit. Ahead of her, Sebastian drove his horse beyond the creatures threshold. There was no way the mare could endure the pace for much longer. Hawke had a trained charger, bred for such treatment. Poor Pudding was a mere farm horse and child's pet.
For hours they'd rushed the lands, following the various mountain paths that paralleled the Minanter, until the sun began to fade in the sky and enough was enough. She couldn't stand the mares sluggish gait a moment longer. Kneeing her stallion she pulled along side him.
"Sebastian, we need to stop." She tried to reach out for his reins, but the prince pulled himself away.
"Leave me be Hawke, we can keep going. I have to get to Cadfer as quick as I can." He refused to look at her, his piercing blue eyes set dead ahead on the path before them.
"You won't make it to Cadfer if your horse had passed out and died from exhaustion!"
Sebastian's brow crinkled. He knew she was right. For the last hour he'd noticed the mares performance wane, but try as he might he just couldn't bring himself to stop. All she could think about was Madoc and Rin. What if they were hurt? Or worse, what if they were dead! The mere thought of Rin, lifeless and cold, frightened him terribly.
Once again, she reached out for the reins. "I know you're worried, but we're only doing more harm then good to our mounts. If my horse is knackered I can't imagine how she's feeling right now."
He considered her words a moment, before reluctantly pulling back on the reins to slow Pudding to a gentle stop. Beside him Hawke did the same. Her charger whinnied impatiently as she dismounted and came to Puddings side. The poor animal was breathing heavily and obviously exhausted. Raising a worried look to Sebastian, she urged him to get down.
"It will be dark soon," she said, leading both horses off the path and into a clearing up ahead, "We need to set up a camp and tend to them." Sebastian followed behind, his mind in turmoil as he pictured scene after scene of what he might find once they reached their destination. The images only served to torture him more.
Hoping to distract him, Hawke sent the prince out to gather wood for a fire while she set about fortifying the site with a few traps. With Merc at her side, he was all the alarm she needed if someone decided to bother them in their sleep. But it was always better to be safe then sorry. Looking around she couldn't see Sebastian anywhere, guessing he'd wandered off and needed some time alone. Fearing he would get lost, she sent Merc to keep an eye on him. Once she was satisfied she'd sent him adequate protection and a guide back to camp, she started to assemble the only tent they possessed. Her eye went to the sky, and she sighed. Those were definitely thunder heads in the distance. It was going to be a long night.
An hour passed by before Sebastian lumbered back to the campsite with an armful of wood and Merc yipping at his heels. It had become dark very quickly. In the din he could just make out the silhouette of a tent and the slight figure of Hawke who was sitting patiently on the ground with her arms wrapped tightly around her. A pang of guilt went through him. He dropped the pile of wood at her feet and watched silently as she stacked them up, working her flints and igniting the fire until it was raging with much welcomed heat and light.
"I'm... sorry I took so long," he said, taking a seat beside the fire pit. "I needed to calm myself. I lost control back there." Mesmerized by the dancing flames, he didn't notice the offering Hawke extended him until she practically forced it under his nose. The sweet smell of fresh fruit wafted around him, and with a shaky hand he took the apple and nodded his thanks.
"Don't worry about it," she said, tearing into a chunk of bread, "sometimes we just need to be alone and think."
They say quietly for a long while, dividing their rations of fruit, bread and some sweet meat strips until they were both full and finally beginning to relax. It was fully dark now, not even a sliver of moonlight could penetrate the thick cloud cover. In the distance he heard the low rumble of thunder and gaped as lightening flashed brightly, sending it's raging fury in every direction across the sky. On the wind he smelled the distinct aroma of impending rain. Once in a while, Merc would growl. His ears laying flat against his head while he bayed at the noisy sky. Hawke threw the animal some scraps to shush him before suggesting he go and hunt his own food. Sebastian ghosted a smile at the mabari as he sauntered off. The breeds understanding never ceased to amaze him.
"You take the tent Hawke," he said quietly after a time, leaning back to look at the tumultuous sky. "I'll be fine out here tonight. You need your rest." He expected her to agree. He expected her to not only take the only shelter they had, but question him on why she should do otherwise.
So it was a mighty surprise when Hawke said with a stern tone, "Don't be silly Sebastian. It's going to pour down soon enough. You won't have fire to keep you warm or shelter to keep you dry. There's enough room for two inside." She'd said it so matter-of-factly that Sebastian could do nothing but gawk at her.
"I...I don't think that's very proper..." he started, but was quickly hushed.
"It's all right. If you stay out here during the rain and get sick, you won't be any good to anybody. Least of all your friends in Cadfer."
The statement struck his as true, and he guessed he'd have to swallow his pride and comply. He gave her an accepting nod. Message received, he said, "OK then. I hear you. You go on ahead, I'm going to stay up for a while longer."
As he watched Hawke yawn loudly and crawl into the tent, his thoughts went back to Isabela. She must have gone ahead to Cumberland. Again, guilt went through him. He hadn't even asked Hawke about her. Since when did he become so careless? So... self absorbed? He closed his eyes and sunk to the ground. He'd really fallen far from the Makers side after all.
Cool smatterings of rain on his face woke Sebastian from his slumber. Surprised to find himself still outside and lying on the ground, he must have fallen asleep without realizing it. The fire was almost extinguished due to the rain, the heat and light now severely diminished. A shiver went through him, he was wet and cold.
Drawing back the flap on the tent, he crawled inside being careful not to disturb Hawke who in the dying light, was curled up on her side; asleep. To his surprise there did indeed seem to be enough room for two. But only just. Kicking off his boots he settled himself beside her. He could feel beads of rain drip down his chest and back, his shirt clung uncomfortably to his torso. In the darkness he groped around for his belongings. He was sure he packet a towel or handkerchief he could use to dry himself off. At least his pants were relatively dry. Damp, but not discomforting. His hands fell on his satchel and he began to rummage around when behind him Hawke roused from sleep.
"What's going on?" she slurred, rubbing at her eyes. "Is everything all right? What's wrong! What happened?" She sat up quickly, her hand reaching for the dagger that lay beside her. In an instant she'd gone from sleepy to on full alert.
"It's all right, it's just me." Sebastian said calmly, "I'm just looking for something to dry myself off with." He could have sworn he saw Hawke roll her eyes and shake her head in the darkness.
"You fell asleep... in the rain!"
He nodded, resuming his search, "I didn't mean - HUH!" Sebastian jolted, almost biting his tongue when he felt a hand on his back, clutching his sodden shirt.
"Makers breath man, you're soaking! Are you trying to make yourself sick? Do you think you need to add one more trouble to our steadily growing list!"
Sebastian froze as she growled him. He didn't know whether to argue with her, or laugh. She was acting like his mother. He could make out her shadow as she ruffled amongst her own belongings, muttering under her breath words of annoyance, and came away with her face cloth.
"Take your shirt off." She said simply.
"Beg pardon?"
"Your shirt," she said again, irritated at having to repeat herself, "take it off."
"That's not necessary Hawke, I can manage." He reached out and took the cloth from her. "I can do it, thanks anyway." Propping himself onto his knees, he peeled the shirt off his body, thankful for the darkness that not only concealed his naked chest but also the sudden rush of color to his cheeks. As soon as the shirt came away, cold permeated his skin, causing him to shiver. He wiped as much of the moisture off his chest and stomach before drying his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hawke was looking at him- silently. He twisted his arm, trying as he might to reach his back, before once again jerking away when her hand came upon his.
"Let me help," she said softly, taking the cloth from him, "turn around."
He stared at her darkened form a moment and felt the heat in his cheeks blaze anew, but turned from her anyway. His breath hitched as she swept the cloth across his back slowly, following the contours of his broad shoulders, before moving lower around his flank and finally to his waist. Without meaning to his eyes closed as she caressed him, the feel of her hand sending warm tendrils through his skin. So mesmerized was he by her gentle touch, he almost missed her question.
"Are you cold? You're shivering."
"I..I'm all right," he replied thickly, somewhat disappointed at the interruption of her ministrations. When her hand left his back, the warmth went with it.
"Turn around please." Her voice was so breathless, he had to strain to hear it. As he turned and came face to face with her, he was startled at how close she was. In the darkness, she moved, leaning towards him. Sebastian's mind reeled as her warm breath grazed his cheek and the itchy material of a woolen blanket was wrapped around him. She pulled the lip of the blanket up, covering him all the way to his chin and pushed him back, urging him to lay down.
"Get some sleep," she said, covering him now with her own blanket for added warmth, "you'll need your rest for the ride in the morning." Then she returned to her side of the tent and curled up again.
An overwhelming urge to touch her came over him. For some reason he felt a sort of... disappointment. He forcefully pushed the thought from his mind and instead settled on a more stoic approach. "Thank you," he managed to say.
For a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep, but smiled inwardly when her reply came from within the darkness. "You're welcome Sebastian."
o.O.o
In the days that followed, Hawke dared not utter a word about their close encounter. It was much too confusing for her right now and just seemed easier to try and forget about it all together. The memory of his form, of his closeness, still dogged her however, and no matter how hard she tried to push it out of her mind it kept creeping back in there. Taunting her. Sebastian also seemed reluctant to not only talk to her, but let his gaze linger on her longer then a moment. She'd even spent last night curled beside the fire with Merc, insisting the prince take the tent just so she could get some peace from all the tension. It did make for a very quiet journey though.
It was early afternoon when they reached the boundary of Cadfer. What they found made Hawke's insides churn. The village was all but razed to the ground. Some of the larger dwellings were still smoldering, expelling thick gray/white smoke. Stray embers flittered around the burnt out shells of once proud buildings, seeking more fuel to burn and keep themselves alive. As they rode through what she guessed was once the center of the village, she was horrified to see the charred remains of numerous bodies. Men, woman and children alike. Those that hadn't been caught among the flames, were either skewered or bludgeoned to death as they tried to escape.
Beside her, Sebastian rode in stony silence, his eyes devoid of emotion. Losing his usual bright glean and becoming several shades darker. His jaw tensed, the muscles in his neck straining, making him flush a deep red. He bucked Pudding forward, passing through Cadfer and out towards the lowlands ahead of her.
When Hawke reached the farm she saw Pudding wandering aimlessly, alone. The farmhouse was completely destroyed, reduced to nothing more then a pile of scorched timber. Sebastian was standing in front of it, his head lowered and fists clenched tightly at his side. Dismounting from her horse she came up behind him, unsure of how to proceed. The two people who had lived here must have been very special to him. She could relate to his loss.
"I'm... sorry Sebastian," she said with remorse, moving to his side, "I wish there was something I could do." She really meant it. There was no greater tragedy then the death of an innocent child. She let her hand fall on his shuddering shoulder and squeezed, watching with stunned breath as tears rolled off his chin.
"They...didn't deserve this Hawke," he cried, his voice wavering as he spoke, "this isn't right. She was just... a child.. a baby!" His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed here. I could... I could.. have.. saved them!"
She wanted to hold him. Let him weep on her shoulder. Console him like a friend should, but she couldn't. Each time she reached for him, something in the back of her mind warned her not to. And it wasn't just in her mind, she actually felt something around her... warning her... watching her.
Merc growled beside her, drawing her attention to the trees beyond them. A flicker of a shadow caught her eye. The mabari barked, stalking to and fro like he was sizing up a ghost. Hawke quickly went to her dagger, pulling it free and stepped in front of Sebastian. Protecting him. A slew of thoughts went through her, the raiders must have stayed to rob the corpses.
She was about to let Merc loose. Command him to seek out the blighter, when to her surprise a small girl stepped out from the bushes. She was covered in ash and soot, her once shiny brown hair now filthy and disheveled. Dirt smudged her cheeks, still plump with baby fat. Her dress was torn and her bare feet caked with dried mud. Hawke felt a hand clasp her leg, squeezing with vigor.
"R...Rin..?" Sebastian stared at the girl, wide-eyed. "Rin? Is that.. you?"
The young girl stepped forward carefully, her eyes searching Sebastian's face until a spark of recognition ignited and she bubbled up in tears, running with abandon into his arms and screamed. "LYON!"
Rin lead them through the smokey remains of the wheat and corn fields, until they came upon the outhouse used to store old farming equipment and furniture in disrepair. It was a small shack hidden quite cleverly in the thick of trees and tangled shrubbery.
"He keeps sleeping.." the little girl was saying, "..it's getting harder to wake him up."
In the corner of the single room, stretched out on a filthy, beaten cot; was Madoc. From where she stood at the door, Hawke could smell the unmistakable stench of rot, a smell so putrid it actually made her recoil. Madoc was still alive, though for the moment it seemed more a curse then a blessing. He was horribly burnt, the skin on his face and arms peeled or blistered. The smell was coming from the infection in the wounds. How the poor man had managed to survive this long was a miracle. Sebastian knelt beside him, his breathing erratic.
"Makers breath... Madoc! I'm.. I.."
Madoc gurgled, struggling – fighting- for words. Each time he moved the freshly scabbed over wounds would tear and ooze. "Sebasss... is that you?" Sebastian nodded, unable to speak as tears sprang in his eyes. "I knew you'd come back. I knnnew..." He convulsed, collapsing in a fit of sticky wet coughs. "Rin? Is she...?"
"She's right here old friend," Sebastian manged to say, "she's safe."
"G..good.." Madoc spluttered again, worse this time. "Take care.. of her.. pleassse. I can't.."
"Don't talk like that Madoc, you can take care of her just fine when you're all better." He laughed, trying to cover up the deep sorrow he felt. Trying to be strong.
"The Maker calls," Madoc said plainly, trying to smile up at his friend, "I will go to him. Take care of my girl. I beg you. Take her to my sister in Cumberland, she will...look...after," his breathing rattled, the words making him increasingly weak and tired. Hawke saw his eyes slide shut.
"I will," Sebastian cried, finally succumbing to his grief, "I'll take good care of her. You know I love her very much." He took up Madoc's hand and held it.
"Please Sebassstian, I want to hear it. The Chant. Send me... to.. the Maker.."
So he did. Through strained tears and with a quivering voice he recited the Chant of Light until Madoc's hand went limp in his. Hawke slid from the room, listening from outside as the Chant was spoken, and all she could think about was how this was just another death she could chalk up as her fault. If she hadn't called Sebastian away, Madoc would still be alive and Rin would still have a father.
o.O.o
Hawke watched from the bottom of the hill as Sebastian and Rin buried Madoc. Steeped in her own regret, she thought it was better to let the two have their private moment and not allow them to witness her decent into despair.
But under it all, she still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She thought it was just Rin, but there was something else bugging her. It was almost too quiet. There should be bird calls or insect chirrups, but there was none to be heard. In the twilight gloom she thought she saw shadows dancing within the trees again. One.. two.. she lost count. Then the gleam of something metal and the unmistakeable sheathing of swords. This time..this time, she wasn't expecting a child.
As if reading her mind, the forest came alive. A chaotic rush of flailing arms and weapons raised high came hurtling towards her. Panic flared in her. She could clearly make out at least thirteen bandits swathed in a different array of armors and leathers.
Turning quickly, she gunned it up the hill, her legs pumping "Sebastian!" she yelled, "Get out of here!" He turned towards her and she saw his face fall when he spied the coming tirade. Clutching fast to Rin, he asked what was going on.
"Raiders from before is my guess," to which Rin nodded in agreement, "you have to get out of here." There was no way she was going to lose two innocent people today.
"I can't let you fight them alo-"
Hawke snatched his shirt, cutting him off. "Merc will cover your escape. Take my charger!" Then while he continued to gawk at her, she screamed, "Damn it Vael! Take her and go! I'll hold them off!" Before he could argue further, she pushed him away. "GO! I'll catch up!" Then she was off, running towards the group of raiders that were baring down on her.
Her hands went to her daggers and in one leap she was on the first man, slashing and slicing at any piece of skin she could see. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from precisely carved wounds. Another man came forward, appearing out of no where, but he went down in much the same manner. She allowed herself a quick glance back and saw that Sebastian had done what he was told to. Holding tightly to Rin, he was speeding off on her stallion, Merc trailing behind. At least the girl was safe, she thought.
Turning back to the coming mob, she was surprised by a hard knock to the face. Hawke was sent crashing to the ground. Quickly gathering her senses she leapt back to her feet. One of the men rushed her, thrusting out with his sword. But his aim was too high and slightly wild, allowing her to block the blow. Sparks ignited between their blades before she broke off the connection and leapt backwards. He darted towards her again, this time too low. She parried him effortlessly and anticipating his next move; drove her dagger up and under his chin, through the bottom of his mouth as he stepped into her. He gurgled as blood dribbled from the wound and he fell to the ground in a heap.
Another two circled around her, clearly weary of her skill. She went for the taller man first, ducking and rolling around his ankles. His gangly frame was too slow to respond to her speed and she jabbed both her daggers into his thigh. He toppled like a dead vaterral. Unsightly and all legs. His companion was the better swordsman, his swings coming hard and fast. No matter how much Hawke tried to parry, retreating and attacking at different intervals, he countered just as expertly. She tried to dodge a flurry of blows, but she was too slow. His blade sliced into the leather of her arm guard. Pain seared through her, forcing her to retreat once again and gather herself. He came upon her again, raining blow after blow on her. The clanging of their blades vibrating down her arm, making her wound sing with agony. She noticed his movement slow and become sluggish. Taking advantage, she feigned an attack; tricking him into defending his right then slipped left, drawing her dagger up and slicing clean through his jugular.
"Drop the blades, woman!"
Before she could catch her breath, Hawke was on her defenses again, backing up and straight into the arms -and sword- of another raider. He caught her around the throat with his arm, pulling her backwards; choking her. "I said drop it!"
Spluttering curses, Hawke dropped her weapons. Her captor rubbed the side of his greasy face against hers, whispering in her ear. "I got you. You're mine now." His tongue snaked out and he licked the length of her cheek. His breath reeked of alcohol, the acrid smell burnt her nostrils.
"Hand her to me Grim, do you have any idea who you have there?" Another man was stalking towards them. He was taller. Bigger. Their boss, she guessed. "You have the famous Champion of Kirkwall in your filthy mitts. Release her!"
For a moment, Hawke thought she was safe. He seemed like he was trying to help her. The thug at her back grunted, swearing under his breath and shoved her into his superiors arms. Hawke struggled, the mans hold was tough. His hand came up and stroked her cheek, brushing aside a tangle of hair from her face.
"Oh yes, I'd know that face anywhere. The Champion of Kirkwall before my very eyes." His glare was unflinching, hard and dark. She saw no help, no mercy in those iron-cast eyes. He bent closer, his dirty black hair itching her nose, "I heard what you did back then. All those people dead. All those mages.. dead." He laughed, a sound so harsh it actually scared her. "Not that I care. Thedas would be better off without those demon breeders!" She struggled again, picturing in her mind all the ways she was going to kill him.
"Let me go!" she said, venom lacing her words, "or I swear upon the Maker I'll strip the flesh from your hides!"
Her words ignited a chorus of laughter from the remaining group of raiders. They had gathered in a semi- circle around them, looking on with lecherous stares.
"Such a mouth," the superior sneered, "I bet it tastes as sweet as those words you spit!" Then his mouth clamped down hard on hers. The taste of stale alcohol and sweat engulfed her. The more she fought, the more he pulled her closer to him. Without hesitation, she bit down hard on his tongue.
He pulled away, blood smearing along his lip. In a fit of rage he pulled back and dealt her a vicious backhand. She hit the ground hard, the air forced from her lungs. Glaring at her, the man growled, "You bitch! You'll pay for that!" Wiping the blood away he started to remove his gauntlets and sword belt.
Panic flared in her chest. She kicked herself backwards, trying to get as far from him as possible, and crashed right into the legs of one of his henchmen. Scrambling to her feet, the superior yelled to his men to grab her. They caught her easily, passing her roughly between them, laughing and jeering as she was bounced around while the leader wrenched open the front of his pants.
Dazed from the abuse, the men flung her back into his arms. A solid blow to the side of her face jarred her, knocking her to the ground once again. He fell upon her, pining her arms with one hand and delivered a series of punches with the other, until stars danced in front of her eyes and she tasted blood in her mouth. Suitably beaten, his hands moved and began to busy themselves with ripping and tearing at her leathers.
"I'm going to enjoy this Champion!" he sneered.
She tried to bring her legs up and kick him off, but a volley of blows to her stomach and chest staunched any attempt at escape. When he tore at her under garments, Hawke screwed her eyes shut; trying to block out the taunts and actions of her assailants.
Then as she braced herself for the worst, something hit the maniac with such a force, he collapsed on top of her. Through swollen eyes she saw the sky darken, and a shower of arrows descended on them. She pulled the unconscious body of her attacker over her more, hiding as much of herself as she could beneath him while the hail of arrows plummeted to the ground and skewered all in the way. All around her she heard the raiders scream, the tell tale whoosh as bolts hit bodies and they all fell to their deaths.
Sebastian was suddenly at her side, dragging away the dead body now peppered with arrows, that was covering her. His breath caught in his throat, and a look of concern marred his panicked face.
"Hawke! Makers breath..." His words trailed as he took in the sight of her. She was beaten, bloody and blue; her clothes shredded. He couldn't see a piece of skin that wasn't dirtied or wet with blood.
She tried to move, but heat coursed through her and she gurgled on the phlegm in her throat, crying out in pain. He held her down, fighting with her to keep her still, when she coughed up a wad of blood. Sebastian didn't know what to do, shock had frozen him in place. He'd raced back as quick as he could after stashing Rin safely away and left Merc to defend her, but he was much too late.
Then to his surprise, Hawke turned her battered face to him, her eyes drowned in sorrow, cut lips quivering as she spoke. "Please Sebastian, kill me. I beg you."
He choked back a sob and looked down at her. "I..I can't do that Hawke. You're going to be OK."
He tried to move her, but she wrestled free from his hands, ignoring as much of the pain that she could. "Of course you can. Use your dagger. End my pain, Sebastian...please. It goes much deeper then anything physical."
The look in her eyes tore at his heart. "Don't say things like that. Don't ask this of me. I cannot..."
"This is why you accepted my offer, isn't it? If you were ever my friend, then you will end my suffering. You don't know how desperately I want to die."
Sebastian swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Her injuries were ghastly to be sure, but it was the misery she exuded that worried him more. There is no honor in killing someone who is already dead in so many ways. Isabela's words came back to him. How could he do what Hawke asked? It was a cowards death, and Hawke was.. IS.. a warrior.
He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly, "You can't fool me Hawke. You say you desperately want to die, but I can see in your eyes just how desperately you want to live." With a steady hand, he drew away the strands of hair that matted to her face, and smiled. Despite her bloody and bruised cheeks, swollen lips and black eye; she looked every bit as determined to live then he had ever seen her. Even when the sudden flow of silent tears fell from her pleading eyes, did it sway him.
"Don't cry Hawke, I'm here. I'm going to help you."
At his words, Hawke shuddered; unable to hold her emotions back anymore. It felt like everything in her life came crashing down on her already broken and discarded soul. Her last attempt at holding her head above water was keeping her body strong, and now she didn't even have that. For eight months she'd struggled to put one foot in front of the other, trying to live day to day without sinking into guilt. But now she had no walls; no pillars to keep her strong. To keep her going. The tears came hard and fast, deep mournful sobs that sent both shame and terror through her. She tried to move away from Sebastian, but his grip was too strong. She wanted to hide, her pride and dignity now streaming in volume down her bruised cheeks.
Then she was moving, or being moved; she couldn't tell which, and arms were around her. Cradling her. Holding her tightly, but also carefully as not to hurt her further. She was in Sebastian's arms. He'd scooped her up, pressing her hard against him. His body was warm. Comfortable. Familiar. She felt his hand come up and cradle her head closer to his chest, and Hawke broke apart. Her fingers gripped his shirt, his back; anywhere she could get a hold, and she let herself go.
She didn't know how long she cried for. Minutes. Hours. All she knew was that she had so much she needed to let out, and the warm embrace from Sebastian and his earnest coos of comfort, remained in her ears long after she passed out.