Author's note: Rectified for reader's satisfaction. :D
Hawke inhaled sharply as she opened her eyes. She blinked a few times letting out her breath slowly, trying to focus. Her eyes shifted left and right and soon she realized that she was in her room, on her bed. She felt incredibly comfortable as she laid there, having no inclination whatsoever of moving. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, her soft, warm bed covers sitting right below her chin.
"Hawke."
Hawke opened her eyes again and turned her head slowly. A tired smile formed as she recognized her friend.
"Hello Aveline." she said softly.
Aveline made her way over and sat on the edge of Hawke's bed. She, too, wore a smile, but her eyes were full of worry.
"You look better, considering." Aveline said, patting her arm. "I didn't think you'd ever want to wake up again after what you've been through."
"I think you'd miss me too much, Aveline." Hawke replied. "Your guards would become fat and lazy, if it weren't for me."
Aveline chuckled at this. Then her face turned serious as she asked, "What do you remember, Hawke?"
"Ooh, that's a difficult one." Hawke said, sighing. "I remember this strange dream I had; a giant of a man with menacing horns was bearing down on me, his beastly teeth ready to chomp at my neck." She paused. "Then I distinctly recall someone sounding a lot like Merril. She said she'll 'miss the Qunari', they were 'easy on the eyes,' she said."
Aveline scoffed humorously and muttered. "Merrill. Well, at least your memory seems fine."
Hawke gave a small laugh. "Believe me, it is certainly something I'd rather forget."
"All of us would." Aveline said to her, frowning. "You gave us all quite a start, Hawke. You have some very good friends."
"How long has it been?"
Aveline shook her head. "Three and a half days, I suspect. Although, you look as if you could use a fortnights worth of rest."
Hawke chuckled. "I do enjoy sleeping. But somehow, I don't think that will happen...my needy friends and all."
"And you're about to have a lot more." Aveline said. "You've become quite the popular citizen, Hawke."
"How do you mean?"
"You have a new nickname." Aveline told sounding slightly amused. "You've defeated the Arishok in single combat. You are now, the 'Champion of Kirkwall'."
"'Champion'?" Hakwe sputtered incredulously. "You can't be serious."
"It's all everyone talks about." Aveline said shaking her head. "I can't walk through the Keep without hearing your name said at least twice. I've even heard rumours that you are on your way to becoming Kirkwall's new Viscount."
Hawke balked at this, not knowing what to say. Then, "I wonder if they'd change their minds if they knew my father was an apostate blood mage? That I lived in a hovel with my dear uncle Gamlen in Lowtown. That I have a sister in the Circle."
Aveline shook her head again, leaning back. "Chances are they already know. You are the savior of Kirkwall and considered the most important person in this city. Some would even say you hold as much influence as the Knight-Commander and the First-Enchanter."
"Ah, and how are the lovers doing?" Hawke replied with a grin. She sat up then, but not without feeling an intense amount of pain on her left shoulder. "Bloody…!" she cried out reaching for it.
"Hawke..." Aveline started, standing up.
"No, no," Hawke said waving her hand in Aveline's direction as she sucked in her breath, pushing herself up. "I'm fine. I'm fine." She leaned back and closed her eyes, exhaling through her teeth
When Aveline was sure Hawke was all right, she continued, sitting once more. "I'd rather not, Hawke. The one thing you need now is rest. Not the current politics that govern Kirkwall."
"More rest? Is the Champion of Kirkwall allowed rest?" Hawke asked her. When Aveline did not smile, she sighed. "That bad, is it?"
"It's that bad." Aveline told her, frowning. "I'd rather not discuss it here. But, I've brought you something."
Hawke looked curiously as Aveline shifted her body and reached for something that was sitting on the floor by her feet. She pulled it up and handed a wine bottle over.
"Aveline..." Hawke started, staring at it as she took it in her hands. It was a favorite of hers that she had discovered while attending some noble party she was asked to be part of. It strongly reminded her of her mother because of the flowery smell that filled her nostrils whenever she put her nose to a bottle. It was an expensive gift. "I don't know what to say."
"A 'thank you' would suffice." Aveline said, looking satisfied. "Perhaps we'll share it, later. There are more bottles I'd like to open. Soon, I daresay."
"Only with you, Aveline." Hawke said, reaching out with her goo arm.
Aveline gave her a firm hug and said, "I'm glad you are just fine, Hawke."
She stood up then with a sigh. "I must be off. There are...certain matters I need to discuss with my men." She paused looking at Hawke, a soft smile on her lips. "Fenris has been by. More often than any of us, I think."
"Ha-has he?" Hawke said, swallowing, her grip tightening around the neck of the wine bottle.
Aveline nodded her head. "He cares about you, Hawke. He saved you. That's all."
Hawke didn't say anything right away. "Thank you, Aveline. For coming by. It means a lot to me."
Aveline gave her another smile and inclined her head. "I'll tell the others, they'll be happy to know you've recovered. I want to see you walking about by tonight."
Hawke saluted as Aveline made her way out, shaking her head, amused. She took a deep breath and slowly reached for her covers, her shoulder burning. She pulled them back, slowly, here eyes furrowing and was just about to try and get out of bed when she heard a familiar sound.
"Hello!"
Hawke looked up and saw Sandal at the door with a food tray in his hands. Her hound was right beside him as he bounded up on the bed and began licking her face.
Hawke laughed, "Down, boy. The last thing I need is a bath from you."
Sandal was slowly and carefully shuffling forward, with the tray balancing in his hands. His tongue was sticking out at the side of his mouth as he gently placed the tray on a table beside her bed. He looked at her then, and smiled.
"Thank you, Sandal." Hawke said, scratching the head of her mabari. "It looks splendid."
"It's good to see that you're awake, Lady Hawke. Or should I say, 'Champion of Kirkwall'."
Hawke looked around and saw Bodhan walking forward with Orana in toe. Hawke made a face and said, "I don't think I like being called that, Bodhan."
"Ah, nonsense." Bodhan said, waving a hand as he gave his son a pat on the back before placing his hands behind him, balancing on his toes. "You saved all the people of Kirkwall. It's merely a title of thanks. You've earned it, and the people thank you."
"It is good to see you awake, Mistress." Orana cried out, running to her side. She looked as if she had been crying. "I was so worried."
Hawke smiled and gave Orana a hug. She felt the little elf stiffened but she relaxed after a moment, hesitantly hugging back. "I could never leave you, Orana. Who would play the lute for me?"
There elf's eyes lit up. "Would you like to hear me play?"
Hawke smiled and nodded, patting a space on her bed. "I'd love to."
Hawke had fun as she listened to Orana play. Bodhan and Sandal were asked to stay with Hawke for the elf's performance. After Orana had played a particular favorite of hers, Hawke found herself involved in a mean card game of Diamondback and Wicked Grace with the two dwarves, Orana watching fascinated as she sat beside Hawke. Sandal was surprisingly quite good at each game and had won the right to ask for salamanders whenever he wanted, if Hawke was making her way to the markets. Bodhan was not so pleased with this outcome, but he had to shrug his shoulders at his son's brilliant playing. Hawke felt this was the most she had ever laughed in ages.
The day quickly turned into night and Hawke found herself up and about in her study room, looking over letters that had been sent to her (Bodhan had asked if she could look over the massive pile of letters and notes that were accumulating on her desk). She found them annoying as she tossed each one of them carelessly onto the floor after she read the first two lines. Most of the letters were invitations to noble parties, others were complaints, sometimes anonymous, against either Meredith or Orsino. She didn't much care about any of them, but finally found what she was looking for (Bodhan had hinted a surprise). She took it in her hands and ripped it open. She unfolded the letter inside rather hastily and sat on a chair, reading Bethany's delicate hand.
I hope this letter finds you well,
I was so happy to hear that you finally awoke. Aveline had contacted me straight away as soon as she had left your home. I wish I was there, sister. I wish I was the one to see your eyes before anyone else. The Knight-Commander has been keeping a closer eye on the mages in the Circle, and has forced the First-Enchanter to apply stricter rules to 'govern' us. She's gone mad, sister. I did visit you, once and only once. And it wasn't even for that long. I could not go into the house alone without two templars escorting me everywhere I went. I was lucky, though. Not many mages are allowed to leave unless they're a senior mage and even then, the Knight-Commander demands a close watch on them at all times. I think she gave me an exception because it's you. I'm sure by now, you've heard of the name they keep calling you; "Champion of Kirkwall". I think I know you better than anyone else, and I know you would hate that name; I can just see the look on your face when you first heard it!
You've come so far and I'm so proud of you. I know mother would have been proud, too.
Love,
Bethany
Hawke read it over and over, happiness and sadness filling her up. She was glad Bethany wrote, but it seemed she would never be able to see her sister again at this rate. After reading it for the tenth time, she folded it up gently and placed it back in the envelope. Hawke stood up and stretched, wincing slightly from the pain in her shoulder. She doubted whether the presence of the scar would ever go away. Even Anders was incapable of healing it completely, Bodhan told her, shaking his head sadly. There was a soft knock on the door. Hawke walked over to open it to her study and felt skinny arms wrapped around her waist.
"Surprise, Hawke!" she heard from Merrill, a wide grin on her face as she pulled back.
Hawke had to smile back as she looked up; all of her friends had taken the time to visit. Bodhan had setup a large table out in the main room by the fireplace, complete with food and drink, but he was nowhere in sight.
"Well," Hawke started. "it seems I have guests."
"We could have done it at the Hanged Man." Varric started, fingering his crossbow with one hand, the other already holding a large mug. "But Blondie didn't think you'd make it."
"She just fought the Arishok." Anders retorted, irritably. His arms were across his chest, looking at Hawke warily. "I don't think anyone would need any less rest."
"We're all so happy you're all right, Hawke." Merrill stated as she settled herself next to Varric.
"Yes." Sebastian agreed, standing beside the fireplace. "The Maker seems to certainly have a plan for you."
"Must be my charming good looks and sharp wit." Hawke said to Sebastian, making her way to the table. Chuckles filled the room. Another door slammed and everyone turned their heads to see Aveline come in from outside, Fenris following close behind.
"Sorry, I'm late." Aveline said. She was wearing her guard uniform meaning she had just come back from the Keep. She looked slightly harassed. "The few times I'm happy your home is so close, Hawke."
Fenris looked at her, inclining his head. He gave her a soft smile as his eyes looked her up and down concernedly.
"I thought of you, Aveline, when I moved in. A challenge, really." Hawke said. She was completely aware of Fenris's eyes, and she was having quite a difficult time knowing how to react. She had to ignore it, though, for now. "I asked myself, 'who knows what sort of trouble I can get into with the Captain of the Guard constantly looking over my shoulder?'"
Another series of chuckles, in which Aveline joined in. She then took a bottle from the table and fell into a chair on the other side of it and with a sigh she said, "Cheers, Hawke."
Hawke looked around again. "Where's Isabela? She hasn't left, has she?"
Aveline looked at her, then frowned. "The Keep. Ten days. She cannot go unpunished."
Hawke gave her a small smile and nod. "I understand, Aveline."
"She sends her regards." Aveline continued, eyeing her.
Hawke nodded, and motioned the others to seat themselves. They complied began making their way to sitting at the long table about to feast. Fenris had walked over and placed himself beside her. When this happened, she felt the hairs on her arms tingle, and her heart begin to beat rapidly. She refused to look at him; it took all of her energy to focus her attention on the others as they spoke. It did not help when Fenris brushed his arm against her as he leaned over to place food on his plate. She didn't know if this was deliberate or an accident. Whatever it was, it was making her head explode. She did not forget Aveline's words, "He cares about you, Hawke. He saved you," and she also did not forget Aveline mentioning how often he visited. She felt touched and exhilarated that he cared for her, but she also knew this. She knew he cared for her, she just didn't know how to best respond. She had it in her head that pushing him would only cause problems and had an understanding that her internal struggle is just something she would have to deal with. But he was not making it easy for her.
There was a cheerful, but sleepy sort of air as the night wore on. Varric took it upon himself to talk about how Hawke had beaten the Arishok to the other who had not witnessed the event, Merrill completely taken in. Hawke had to assume that most of it was completely exaggerated; for instance, Varric mentioned that Hawke was able to float in the air for long periods of time, greatly confusing the Arishok ("I didn't know you knew magic, Hawke!" Merrill said, amazed.), and through some unknown spell of strength, she had actually thrown her weapons to the ground in fury and started beating up the Arishok with her mere fists. The story also seem to change every time one of her friends asked him to retell another part of the fight. Hawke had to laugh, though. The others who actually witnessed the fight knew the truth, but she had to admit, and was sure they would too, that Varric's stories were a lot more fun.
The mood turned serious, however, when a discussion erupted about what was happening around Kirkwall. According to Aveline, Meredith has taken it upon herself to become the new "temporary" viscount and has placed the people of Kirkwall under martial law, refusing the attempts to replace Dumar. Aveline also warned Hawke that the Knight-Commander finds her to be a threat because of the amount of influence she had.
"You would do well to keep out of her way, Hawke." Aveline said, looking at her. "Maker knows the amount of power she holds now."
"She plans to kill off all mages." Anders said heatedly. "She's completely lost it."
"You're exaggerating, Anders." Aveline said looking annoyed. "The Knight-Commander is doing what she believes is best for the city and its people."
"You think I don't know the city guard is not another arm of the templars?" Anders retorted, standing.
"That is completely unfair." Aveline said, her eyes flashing as she stood up facing him. Aveline was already at an impressive height and had no problems matching Anders's tall frame.
"If they show up at my doorstep in Darktown, I'll know who to blame." Anders growled, not backing off. "That's all I'm saying."
Aveline looked as if she was going to hit him as she stood there practically nose to nose, but she slowly sat down again and took a deep swig from her mug.
Anders, however, continued, moving in front of the fire. "People are blind. The Archdeamon was slain by the help of two mages, one of them an apostate. The Chantry set us on this path long ago. It would take something truly catastrophic to change people's thinking now."
Hawke looked at him. His attitude seems to have turned for the worst. She wasn't sure if she should be worried about him. "You know, Anders," she began trying to keep the mood light, "between ruling the city and torturing mages, it's a wonder how she keeps that sword of hers so shiny."
"The crush of hope for mages is nearly extinguished." Anders said roughly, turning to face the fire. "The mage underground is all but destroyed and the mages left have turned to blood magic as their only option."
"That sort of proves her point, though, doesn't it?" Hawke went on, frowning.
"No." Anders said, waving his hand as he whirled around. "It proves nothing."
"You would do best if you kept your thoughts to yourself, mage." Hawke heard Fenris snarl beside her. She shuddered slightly as she felt his arm again.
"You should just become another one of Meredith's lackeys," Anders said, pointing aggressively at Fenris. "Your attitude is as bad as hers, if not the same. You've had one bad experience color your whole world."
Fenris narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw
"Don't you want someone more open-minded, Hawke?" Anders said abruptly, turning back around, his eyes upon her. Hawke felt taken aback. "He seems less a man then a rabid dog."
Hawke was fully aware of the stares she was getting, but ignored them and recovered. "Don't call him that. You just don't know him."
"That's right, mage." Fenris snapped beside her.
Anders frowned, his eyes still on Hawke. "I'll know him as much as I ever will."
"Huh." Fenris said, not at all amused, shaking his head. "What company you keep, Hawke."
There was a moment of awkward silence that followed this. Varric and Merrill who were often not ones up for serious political conversation, or serious conversation at all, had taken upon themselves to ignore the others and busy themselves by drinking. Well, Varric was. Merrill had made her way over to Hawke's mabari and was cooing as she played with him.
"Perhaps you should take up the mantle to become Viscount, Hawke." Sebastian suddenly said.
All faces turned to him.
"Me?" Hawke said with a laugh when she realized he was completely serious. "You want me to be Viscount?"
"You have great influence, Hawke." Sebastian stated, seriously. "When there is famine and war, people look to their leaders. Who does Kirkwall have, beyond you?"
"What about you, Sebastian?" Hawke challenged with a raised eyebrow. "Ready to be the prince of Starkhaven?"
"Who better to serve the Maker?" Sebstian said with a shrug. "A Brother of the Chantry? Or a prince who could sway a whole city?"
Hawke looked at him, frowning. "You'll never know what the right choice is. Might as well just make one."
Sebastian fingered the table cloth. "Elthina is risking her life by not deserting her flock. Could I do the same? It's been 15 years since I left Starkhaven. The people there are only a memory to me. Kirkwall, the Chantry-that's real. That's where I belong."
Hawke smiled. "Well, good." She picked a pint of ale and handed it to him. "Glad that's settled."
He laughed as he took a sip with Hawke. "I appreciate you hearing me out, Hawke. I stay as much for you, as her grace. No matter your choices."
"Cheers." Hawke said with a grin.
The mood of the night had become better after that, but not as it once was. Anders refused to speak for the rest of the night and cast dark looks at Aveline and Fenris from his corner as Fenris watched him beadily from his own seat beside Hawke. Hawke was aware of Anders trying to catch her eye as well, but she did not want to look at him. How dare he? she thought. It did not take long for the others to realize it was probably time to head out. Varric was trying to teach Merrill the tactics behind bargaining. ("No, no, no, Daisy, it's all about the approach.") Anders merely nodded in Hawke's direction not really looking at her and turning in a huff, he left the estate, completely ignoring Aveline and Fenris. Sebastian was following behind and gave a preoccupied nod in Hawke's direction. After she said her good nights from the door, she turned around to see Fenris and Aveline talking in not-so-soft tones.
"…an elf matching your description, on the ship you named. And alone as far as I could tell." Aveline was staying, looking highly annoyed. "You're making me repeat myself, Fenris."
"I need to know if it's a trap!" Fenris yelled out, slamming the table. Bottles fell and drops of wine began to stain the table cloth.
Aveline stood up quickly, and looked at him heated. "I did as you asked, Fenris. Now, it's up to you."
She turned away and walked over to Hawke. "You talk to him, Hawke. I've had my fill for today." she sighed a placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's good to see you walking."
Hawke smiled at Aveline as she made her way out the door. She turned her head to look at Fenris, his fists still on the table. His eyes were staring darkly at the stain that was now spreading quickly.
"Fenris..." Hawke began. She didn't like him acting this way.
"Venhedis! Fasta vas!" Fenris shouted. He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes softened slightly, but he looked away and began to pace.
"Fenris. Maybe I can help."
The elf sighed and stopped to look at her once more. "It's my sister."
"Sister?" Hawke asked, moving closer to him.
"Yes." Fenris said, pacing again. "I followed up on Hadriana's information. Everything she said was true."
Hawke slowly sat in a chair, looking at him. He looked furious, and scared. She waited until he continued.
"I had to keep it quiet, but I eventually contacted Varania and sent her coin enough to come meet me here." Fenris stopped pacing once again and looked at Hawke, leaning over the table. "And now she's here."
"Varania? Is that your sister's name?" Hawke asked. "So, she was in Qarinus, then?"
Fenris nodded, sitting opposite her, his leg pumping up and down. "My sister left Magister Ahriman's service, and I found her in Minrathous. That made things more difficult. I paid some men, and they told me she was not a slave, but in fact, a tailor." He paused. "I wrote to her. Getting a letter to her was difficult, and she didn't believe me at first…but she's finally here. Now."
Hawke watched him stand up again, unable to sit still. "You believe Danarius knows."
"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I become, he does!" Fenris said, angrily. He moved around the table bent down to look at Hawke in the eye. "Come with me, Hawke. I need you there when I meet her."
Hawke stared at him. He looked frustrated and scared. Hearing those words however, made her stomach flip. She nodded her head, "Of course, Fenris. Where is she?"
"The Hanged Man." Fenris said with a sigh of a relief, straightening up. "She said she'll contact me again as soon as she's settled. I suspect a letter, if not tomorrow, very soon."
Hawke slowly stood up and nodded once more.
"Thank you, Hawke." Fenris told her. "This means a lot to me."
"I'm sure you would have done the same thing." Hawke said with a smile.
Hawke saw his lips quirk up as he stood gazing at her. "I'm pleased you're all right, Hawke."
Hawke swallowed and turned her attention to the table. "Aveline told me something, Fenris. About what happened after my fight with the Arishok."
"What happened?" Fenris asked curiously.
Hawke swallowed again, reaching for the empty bottles, her hand was shaking. "She said you saved me, Fenris." She didn't look at him, as she righted up the bottles and began gathering the plates of food.
Fenris reached over and took hold of her hand. Hawke looked up at him, startled, the plates forgotten.
Fenris was not smiling, She could not understand what he was thinking, but his touch was making her feel uneasy, and she did not know why. He was gripping her hand tightly, now.
"Fenris…" she began, not really knowing what she wanted to say. She tried to get out of his grasp; but he would not let her go.
Then, the elf finally dropped her hand quickly and took a step backward. "I must go." He politely inclined his head and turned on his heel to leave.
Hawke could say nothing as she watched him stride toward the door and close the it softly behind him.
Hawke stepped out of her estate early in the morning some few days later, after feeling restless staying inside for so long. As under orders by Aveline, no less, she obediently stayed inside, but the Guard-Captain was right, she needed rest and Hawke took advantage of it. She felt like an old maid whenever she got out of bed; her bones ached, her muscles were sore, and the wound the Arishok had given her never seemed to get any better. She had to stretch her shoulder constantly throughout the day. Anders had noticed this some days before when he stopped by again (another editing job for his manifesto) and had brewed some horrible smelling potion that reminded Hawke greatly of the odor the ale at the Hanged Man often reproduced. He also had her drink it, which made her sputter and gag, but she felt the effect of the potion immediately. It was complete bliss as the pain from her shoulder dissipated, but unfortunately it was only temporary which means Anders had to make it again often. He also seemed to have calmed quite a bit from the first night she had recovered.
"I'll need to come in twice a day." Anders told her as she watched him pour some green pasty liquid into his smoking concoction.
Hawke made a face and complained. "Can't you put some spices to make it taste any better?"
"It would effect the potion." Anders said with a small smile. "I might accidentally turn you into a toad."
"I might enjoy that." Hawke said, rubbing her hands on her face. She motioned over to a large pile of papers on her desk when she saw Anders's curious look. "Woulsn't have to answer any letters."
"Ew." Anders said looking at the highly-decorated parchment. "What is all that?"
"Invitations. Noble parties." Hawke said, feeling disgruntled. "Don't the people here have anything better to do?"
"Their nobles." Anders said with a shrug, now mixing his potion with a wooden rod. A green smoke cloud hovered over it for a moment before dissipating. "They don't do anything."
"Except ask me to parties." Hawke sighed. "How many can these nobles hold in a week?"
"As many as your willing to partake in, my lady." Anders told her, handing the potion over. "Drink."
Hawke obeyed, holding her nose. She coughed as she downed it, and felt tears welling in her eyes, but her shoulder felt completely better.
"Will this ever go away?" Hawke said drinking water. There was also an awful aftertaste that made her nose burn.
"The pain? Yes, I believe so." Anders told her, leaning against the table, his arms crossed. "He broke your shoulder when he threw that blade into you. That isn't going to heal fast, even if Justice is around to fix it. You're lucky, Hawke. Anyone else, and they would have died."
"All thanks to you, no doubt." Hawke said looking at him with a smile.
Anders nodded staring at the floor. "It was frightful seeing you fight that Qunari."
"Wasn't really much of a choice, was there?" Hawke said moving over to the papers on her desk, not comfortable with they way he was now looking at her. "Now where's your manifesto, Anders?"
"Here." Anders said pulling out some papers from underneath her own mess. "It's a little neater, I think."
"Truly." Hawke agreed nodding her head, looking at the neatly stacked papers in his hands
They ended up settling on the floor that day and went over his work together late into the night. Hawke had to admit that his arguments were pretty strong…and long, there was no doubt that he could acquire some attention from the rest of the Chantry. And as promised, Anders stopped by twice a day to remake the potion.
"The Champion!" Hawke heard, alarming her out of her reverie.
She turned her head and noticed not a few nobles heading her way, broad smiles on their faces and some cheering. Feeling heat rising to her cheeks, she gave an embarrassed smile and wave and continued walking. She was intending to walk over to Fenris's mansion, receiving a message from him through Varric. Apparently, his sister was planning to stay at the Hanged Man for about a week. But these…nobles were not making it easy to travel anywhere. She had to stop several times as people were walking over to her; congratulating or explaining to her how brave she was to save them all. She had to admit it was nice that people appreciated her efforts, even if it was a complete accident, but she did not appreciate the level it has become. She found Aveline's description of her popularity quite accurate and annoying. There were also not-so-subtle hints of wondering whether Hawke was married, and if not, she should come to another get-together at Ser what's-his-face's mansion for a time for a more intimate gratitude. Hawke had to use every bit of willpower she had not to disappear in her usual clouds of smoke.
She finally made it to Fenris's mansion, wishing to hide in there for just a moment, but she noticed Fenris was already standing outside his door, pacing impatiently as he waited for her.
"All right, Fenris?" Hawke walking over to him.
Fenris turned quickly and made his way over, his face looking quite determined.
"Quickly." Fenris said shortly and began walking to Lowtown. "She's there, now."
They walked together in silence, well, as much silence as they could with a gangly crowd following them as they walked, or rather jogged. Hawke could hear whispers behind her as they continued, but she could not quite make out what they said, except for "elf", "friends", and of course, "Champion". Oh, she hated that name. It was also quite obvious Fenris was aware of the crowd around them as he eyed their warily.
"This…attention." Fenris started shortly, following Hawke. "It's intriguing…but alarming. I'm rather conspicuous as it is, I don't need the extra scrutiny."
"I'm sorry, Fenris. You are the friend of the 'Champion', unfortunately." Hawke said, sympathetically, then took in a deep breath. "You are a free man. You can always…leave." She spoke what she feared the most, knowing that she was in no mind to stop him, no matter what she wanted. His choice, she reminded herself.
She felt his eyes on her but he did not say anything as they quietly made their way past the markets and into Lowtown. The nobles, of course, did not follow the pair into the ghastly streets of Lowtown which suited Hawke just fine, thank you very much. Fenris was keeping a keen eye out, however; he had certainly become much more rigid as they continued past the streets of markets and further into Lowtown. Besides the usual greeting of bouts and fights that often occurred in and out of the Hanged Man, nothing unusual was apparent. Fenris took the lead when they spotted the tavern and slowly opened the door. It was unusually quiet and this was making Hawke uneasy. The frequenters of the tavern Hawke recognized were eyeing them wearily as they passed. One man didn't realize he was spilling drink down his front as he watched them slightly open-mouthed. Fenris suddenly stopped in his track, Hawke nearly bumping into him.
"Varania?" Fenris said softly.
Hawke craned her neck to see around Fenris and saw a young female elf with sleeked back bright red hair, not unlike Aveline's. She looked up when Fenris said her name.
"It really is you." Varania looked sad and despondent. Oh, shit, Hawke thought to herself, a trap…? She leaned over to him to whisper his name, trying to relay a message, but he was too preoccupied as he stared at his sister.
"I…I remember you." Fenris said, his eyes distant. He was not paying attention to the commotion in the tavern that Hawke surely was. The patrons were noisily standing and edging themselves by the walls to rush out the doors. Varric was in where to be seen, but she knew he would not have left them if he knew what was happening. "We played in our master's courtyard as mother worked." he continued looking at her dreamily. "You called me-"
"Leto." Varania said standing, but she turned her head away. "That is your name."
Fenris finally noticed something odd. "What's wrong? Why are you so-"
"Three guesses, Fenris." Hawke said loudly.
"Ah, my little Fenris." said a voice from above.
Hawke and Fenris turned to see a man with a conceited smile on his face as he slowly took his his time going down a set of stairs. "Predictable as always."
Hawke watched as Fenris face changed from absolute horror to hatred.
"I'm sorry it came to this, Leto." Varania said, looking at the floor.
Fenris growled slamming his hands on the table, making his sister jump. "You led him here!"
"Now, now, Fenris." Danarius said, walking closer. "Don't blame your sister. She did whatever good Imperial citizen should."
"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius!" Fenris yelled. "But I won't let you kill me to get them."
Danrius looked him up and down, a smile still on his cold face. "How little you know, my pet." He turned his attention to Hawke, surveying her. "And this is your new mistress, then. The Champion of Kirkwall. Quite lovely."
Hawke narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "Fenris belongs to no one, slaver."
"Do I detect a note of jealously?" Danarius said with a laugh. Hawke furrowed her eyebrows at his audacity. "It's not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?"
"Shut your mouth, Danarius!" Fenris shouted, his marking beginning to glow.
Danarius sighed, annoyed. "The word is 'master'." The mage took out his staff and disappeared in a cloud of smoke just as Fenris brought down his sword. A nasty echoing laugh followed.
"Coward!" Fenris yelled into the open air, his voice ringing the very walls.
Deamons began to make their appearance, roaring as they climbed out of the ground and walls of the tavern, knocking empty tables and filled tankards all over the floor. It did not take long for Fenris and Hawke to become surrounded.
"You weren't always this way, Fenris." They heard Danarius echo somewhere in the Hanged Man. "Once upon a time you had affection for me. I remember it fondly."
"Show yourself, malelificar!" Fenris growled a few feet away as he sliced the head off of an attacking daemon.
Hawke already had her attention on two others that were forcibly making their way to her, pushing and shoving themselves and the tavern furniture. She threw a grenade a them but it seemed to have no effect as they continued. With a grunt, she turned around and ran up the stairs they had last seen Danarius walk down from. As she predicted, they followed her and with her two faithful daggers in her hands, she jumped and fell into them, her blades successfully striking their targets. Fenris was faring fine, as he slew one deamon after another, malice clear on his face. Hawke was able to fight her way toward him, the battle won.
"Danarius!" Fenris yelled out again, looking around. "Your pets have failed you! Danarius!"
It was tense silence, until another echoing laugh startled them from behind. Hawke and Fenris quickly turned around to face the mage. He maliciously licked his lips as he looked at them. Without warning, he threw up his hands and yelled a spell in Hawke's direction. She jumped out of the way, but not before she saw the effects of the spell behind her. Several menacing looking icicles and embedded themselves deep within one of the columns that held up the Hanged Man.
"A worthy adversary." Danarius said to Hawke, as she was quickly jumping to her feet. "I propose a wager. Fenris as the prize."
Hawke took no time and threw one of her knives at him. He grunted as it sliced into the side of his face. He reached up to touch it, and after noticing blood, he snarled and began singing curses under his breath. More deamons. Fenris swung his sword in a wide arch, missing Danarius by inches. However, before he could make another move, he was pushed to the side by an abomination who was pounding at him with his fists. It did not take long for Fenris to move out of the fray, killing it by slicing at its torso, but not before sprouting a black eye. Meanwhile, Hawke was trying to reach Danarius, but his curses continued to call out more deamons around them.
Just then, there was a sound of a slamming door and an arrow hitting directly on Danarius's staff. Losing concentration, the mage stopped and looked around, as did Hawke. Varric was the door, a wide grin on his face as he winked at Hawke, and began to reload his ever faithful Bianca. Anders was close behind. He waved his staff and hands in a complicated gesture as he muttered something under his breath and let loose a spell that forcefully lifted and slammed Danarius across the room. Fenris ran after him, but the mage recovered quickly, initiating another sequence of deamonic spells.
"My palatial suite is your palatial suite, Hawke." Varric yelled out, aiming his crossbow at the deamons ready to attack her.
Hawke had to smile when he said this as she made her way over to Danarius; she need to force him to loose his concentration. Fenris already had the idea; he was slashing his sword this way and that, but unfortunate for him, it was obvious that Danarius also knew his way around a sword. He was using his staff to block Fenris's erratic strikes, almost lazily. Hawke reached around and felt for her last smoke bomb. She slowly made her way as close as she could behind Danarius. Fenris saw what she was doing and he forced Danarius to turn his back on her, a new sense of strength flowing through him. Hawke waited for an opening and with all her strength, slammed the grenade into the side of his head. The effect was almost immediate. Danarius cried out as the mixture from the bomb coalesced with the opening of his previous wound, beginning to sizzle. Hawke and Fenris had to jump out of the way as Danarius began swinging his staff around rather aimlessly, screaming in pain. Fenris then rammed his sword into the mage, puncturing his leg. Danarius grunted as he fell to the floor, whimpering. Fenris took a foot and stomped hard on his head, the mage's nose and lip openly bleeding. Fenris then reached down and picked him up by the throat with one hand, his markings lighting up the darkened tavern. Danrius's eyes were wide in fright as he gasped in futilitly, grasping at Fenris's hand.
"You are no longer my master!" Fenris snarled. He reached further into the mages throat and squeezed. He threw Danarius to the side, disgusted and turned his head, his bloody fingers still tightly wrapped around what was left of the mage's throat. He growled and headed straight for his sister, throwing his bloody gauntlet to the floor making a loud clang.
"I had no choice, Leto." Varania said, desperately, her back pressed against the wall.
"Stop calling me that!" Fenris said, slamming his hand over her head.
"He was going to make me his apprentice." Varania said, her hands now over her face. "I would have been a magister."
"You sold out your own brother to become a magister?" Fenris said, appalled, turning away angrily.
"Your sister's a mage?" Anders asked appalled. Hawke put a hand on his arm to stop him but he pulled away angrily. "You hypocrite. You're really just jealous of us, aren't you?"
"You have no idea what we went through." his sister said, her voice stronger. Angry tears welled in her eyes. "What I had to do since mother died. This was my only chance."
Fenris barred his teeth as he said, turning slowly around to face her. "And now you have no chance at all."
"Please!" Varania screamed to Hawke. "Don't do this! Please, don't let him kill me!"
"Fenris, wait!" Hawke called, swiftly moving in front of his sister. "Don't do this."
Fenris took a step back, surprised at her then looked indignant. "Why not? She was ready to see me killed!"
"She's your sister, Fenris." Hawke said, reaching for him. She touched his arm softy, and he did not move away. "She's your family."
"Please, elf, Fenris." Varric spoke up, his face worried as he stood beside Hawke. "It won't help. I promise you, that."
His markings slowly subsided in color as he looked down at his sister. With an angry grunt he moved to the side, allowing Varania to leave. Hawke, rather roughly, reached behind her and pushed Varania away from them. Varania ran forward and almost reached the door before she turned around and said as an afterthought, "You wanted those markings. You fought for them. You did whatever you could so that you would win our freedom, Mother and I."
"Why are you telling me this?" Fenris asked painfully, looking around at her.
Varania shook her head. "Freedom was no boon. In all this time, I think you are the one that had it better." With that she ran out, not looking back..
Fenris said nothing for awhile as he looked at the floor. Quietly he began, "I thought discovering my past would bring a sense of belonging. But I was wrong." He turned away from Hawke. "Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone."
"You're not alone, Fenris." Hawke said softly, her emotions letting loose. "I'm here."
He eyed her almost suspiciously, but he slowly reached for her cheek and caressed it with his thumb, his half-smile forming on his lips. She closed her eyes against his touch, reaching up to grab his hand, but he dropped his arm quickly and frowned, looking away.
"I feel unclean." Fenris told her angrily. "This magic has not only etched into my skin, but stains my soul." Hawke could say nothing as she watched him. He straightened up then, and walked past Hawke. "I need to get out of here.
"Fenris-" Hawke began.
"No, I don't want to talk about it." he said gruffily, walking away. "I need to…go."
Hawke looked at the others, Varric merely shrugged his shoulders, his crossbow still in his hands, and Anders looked at Fenris's back distrustfully, his arms crossed. Hawke bit her lower lip and watched as Fenris stormed out.
"Come on, Hawke." Varric said suddenly beside her, walking to the door of the Hanged Man. "He won't be hard to spot."
They walked out of the Hanged Man and stepped out into the sun. They looked around, but did not see Fenris anywhere, only the usual patrons staring at them curiously, no doubt wondering if the commotion had ended. Furrowing her eyebrows, Hawke began to wander around the streets of Lowtown with Varric, (Anders had left in a huff) discussing the events that had just occurred, and keeping a somewhat alert eye out for him. Hawke did not feel too worried; Fenris was more than capable of taking care of himself, and she also understood that if he did not wish to be found, he would not be. She had to wander where he had run off too, however. Certainly, not the alienage; he felt disgusted seeing them live as they did, and he would never seek the company of Merrill. Perhaps he went home. Shrugging, Hawke found herself in front of her uncle's hovel. She crossed her arms as she looked at it. She had not seen her uncle for quite some time, maybe once in the past month. Hawke surmised he still blamed her for her mother's death. She wavered at the thought of visiting and listening to her uncles latest exploits, not that he told her much at all. She felt vaguely curious on whether he had even visited her after the Quanri coup.
"I was going to say this is better than living in Darktown," Varric told her as he looked up at Gamlen's home. "But I can't."
Hawke chuckled at this.
"I want to check on Daisy, Hawke." Varric said, making his way to the alienage.
"Is she alright?" Hawke asked, following him down the steps.
"The last time I saw her was at your place." Varric told her, walking past the vhenadahl tree. "And just as I thought..."
Hawke looked at Merrill's door and saw several bags of produce piled up against each other. She was surprised there was still food in the bags, considering the way the elves in the alienage live, mostly by thievery. Could they be afraid of Merrill? Hawke chuckled at the idea.
Varric grunted as he reached down to pick them up, handing a few over to Hawke. He shifted his crossbow on his shoulder, squared his chest and knocked on the door.
"Daisy?" Varric called out. "Daisy, I'm coming in."
Varric turned the unlocked handle and opened the door. They did not hear anything as they dropped the contents on a table she had by the fireplace. It was oddly quiet, but the house was not a very large one and they quickly found her in her room staring at the eluvian mirror.
"Come on, Daisy." Varric said, throwing his hands up. "You've been holed up in here for days. If you don't get some sunshine, you'll wilt.
"I'm not a plant, Varric." Merrill said, sounding annoyed. She turned around to face him and Hawke. "I'm just fine."
"Just take a walk around the Lowtown market." Varric said. "Get some air, and I'll stop bothering you."
"I…know you mean well." Merrill said not looking at him. "But I have too much to do right now."
Varric grunted and turned around heading for the door. "Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Hawke."
Hawke watched as Varric starting reaching into the bags of produce and began arranging them in her cabinets.
"Varric…is sweet." Merrill said watching him, a small smile on her face. "Often over-bearing and terribly intrusive, but sweet. It's good to see you, Hawke."
"Something wrong, Merrill?" Hawke asked.
Merill looked at her sadly, then shook her head. "In the market the other day, out of the corner of my eye…I thought I saw Maharial. I blinked and she was gone." She sighed and walked over to the mirror, fingering the decorations on it as she continued. "I don't know what it meant. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm going mad. I miss them all. Even the Keeper."
Hawke smiled and chuckled, "I'm sure they miss you too, Merrill. Even the Keeper."
Merrill eyes her suspiciously, but her eyes softened as she walked over to her bed and sat down. "I'm sure she would. She loves to lecture. I bet her new First appreciates that."
Hawke sat beside her but said nothing.
"It doesn't matter." Merrill said, shaking her head. "I'm here now."
The elf slapped her thighs and stood up then with a firm nod and turned to Hawke. "Maybe Varric is right. Shall we go out for a bit? I could use some sunshine."
Hawke stood up and made her way toward Varric, who did not look very happy.
"I'm fine, Varric." Merrill said, emerging behind Hawke out of her room. "Let's go outside. It's a beautiful day."
Surprised but looking relieved, Varric nodded his head with a smile. The three of them spent their time outside, hearing stories of the Dalish that Merrill knew about. Merrill had made a few friends as she lived there, and soon they found themselves in a circle with other elves and children, listening to her speak. Hawke had to smile at Merrill, remembering how very shy and unsure the mage was when she first came here. Merrill seemed to throughly enjoy herself.
Hawke eventually had to leave, noticing the colors of dusk beginning to form. With a wave to the others, she back-tracked from the alienage, and made her way back to the Hanged Man. She wanted to speak with Isabela. To be frank, Hawke was still a bit fumed that Isabela left her with the intention of selling the relic, but she also needed to remind herself that Isabela certainly had a lot more heart that even the pirate would admit, and she was grateful for it. She opened the door to the tavern to a few weary eyes, but most of them were to drunk to pay attention to her. She looked around, however, and noticed Isabela already by the bartender. Didn't she just get out today? Hawke asked herself. Hawke made her way over but Isabela already noticed her. She narrowed her eyes and roughly looked away, waving at the barkeep. She was annoyed. She got her drink and chugged as fast as she could then slammed the tank back onto the table.
"Oooh," Hawke began, watching her. "that looks like the house special. Whiskey flavored rat droppings."
"I served my time. You don't have to check up on me." Isabela said shortly, not looking at her. "I'm fine."
"I'm just here for the whiskey." Hawke said, defensively.
Isabela gave her a look then sighed. "Remember what you said after the mess with the Qunari?"
"Isabela." Hawke walked over to her, and leaned against the bar. "I'm glad you came back. I'm proud of you. You did the right thing."
The pirate shook her head. "It may have been the right thing, but it was also stupid. That relic was mine, rightfully stolen. I should have kept running."
"You helped save Kirkwall, Isabela." Hawke told her, softly. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Bullshit." Isabela said, but she looked pleased. "You could've stormed the Keep and slaughtered all those Qunari if you had to." She paused, her eyes twinkling. "You and Aveline. I mean, look at her, she's a woman-shaped battering ram."
"So, care for a game of Wicked Grace?" Hawke said, slowly. "I've gotten quite good."
Isabela frowned. "Why are you here, Hawke? We have nothing in common anymore. You're a Champion, and I'm just a...lying, thieving snake."
"You're my friend, Isabela." Hawke said, crossing her arms. "And you're afraid of that."
Isabela said nothing as she looked at Hawke, surprised.
Hawke laughed. "You've a heart of gold in you, Isabela. We'll dig it out, then sell it for a nice price. Would that do?"
Isabela blinked then a warm smile spread across her face and nodded. She sighed, "I need a drink."
Laughing, Hawke waved a goodbye to Isabela and went outside, feeling much happier than she has been since she found out about her newly appointed title. With a sigh, she made her way over to the less-then-honest merchants and started to peruse their wares before they closed. People knew her here too, and the merchants were more than happy to give her a discount on everything they had. Citizens in Lowtown were emerging from their homes to congratulate her, and oddly, she found it more satisfying to hear it from her fellow Fereldans than the strangers in Hightown. She was also quite pleased to know that not one parent gave her an offer in marriage.
She was about to make her way back up to Hightown when she suddenly felt a strong tug on her arm. She turned, reaching for her knives, but it was only Fenris, emerging from an alleyway, behind her. He took a step forward, his face still half-covered by shadow. He had not let go of her as his eyes reached hers. She could not read the look on his face as he stood there, silent.
"Fenris?" she asked him skeptically.
The elf said nothing, but began walking back into the alleyway, pulling her with him. She complied as she followed, curious at his odd behavior. He finally stopped and dropped her arm. He did not look at her when he did this, but simply stared further down the dark passage. Hawke could feel a strong wind as she stood there, in the silence.
"You've been gone a long while..." Hawke started.
Fenris turned to look at her and nodded his head slowly. "I've been thinking."
Hawke waited for an answer, but Fenris did not say anything more. Instead, he took a step toward her and threw his arms around her, taking her in for a strong hug. It was a tense and forceful hug; it almost felt awkward as if he was unsure of what to do. Hawke was beside herself with surprise, but she hesitantly reached up and stroked his hair. He placed his head against her neck and shoulder and seemed content in doing so for awhile, his body relaxing. Hawke slowly laced her fingers through his hair, as he snuggled deeper into her neck.
"I am...baffled, Hawke." Fenris finally muttered into her shoulder.
"What about, Fenris?" Hawke said soothingly.
Fenris sighed as he moved away from Hawke and began to pace in the dark alleyway. "Danarius is dead. I am free. But...something feels wrong."
"Revenge not your cup of tea?" Hawke said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
Fenris paused to look at her, a small smile on his face. "I suppose not. I thought if I didn't need to run and fight, I'd be able to live like a free man does. But how is that? How do I move on?"
"Don't tell me you'll miss the attention." Hawke asked him with a tease, crossing her arms.
Fenris laughed at this and shook his head. "Hardly. It's just difficult to overlook the stain that magic has left on my life. If I seem bitter, it's not without cause. Perhaps it does mean to move forward. I just don't know where that leads. Do you?" He looked at her, is eyes unreadable as ever. She felt he was almost testing her.
"Fenris, you can't blame magic for everything." Hawke said gently.
Fenris frowned. "Look at you sister, Hawke, you mother. Magic spoils everything it touches. I…just…" Fenris sighed, not finishing his sentence.
Hawke bit her lower lip, then, "If you'd like, we can stay together, Fenris."
Fenris hesitated as he took a step forward. "Hawke," he replied, softy. "I've always wanted that."
Hawke swallowed again, not looking at him. "Why did you leave, Fenris? That night?"
Fenris put a hand to her chin, making her look at him, "I felt like a fool. I thought it better if you hated me." He sounded dejected. "I deserve no less, but it isn't better." Fenris brought her in for another hug and continued. "I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I should have asked for your forgiveness long ago-I hope you can forgive me now. I was a coward, Hawke."
Hawke pulled away and looked at him. He sounded annoyed with himself. "You told me my door was locked. What would have said if you had kicked it open?"
Fenris brought his face closer to hers and whispered again, his eyes on hers, intense, "'Nothing could be worse then the thought of living without you.'"
Hawke felt her heart beating again, rapidly as she shuddered at his words. She looked at him and cocked her head, teasing him, "Well, I guess this can be fun to hold over you for awhile."
Fenris chuckled at this and brought his face close hers, whispering in her ear, "If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly by your side."
Fenris kissed her then, passionately, one hand across her back and the other on her head, his fingers entangling through her hair. He missed her, he truly did and Hawke accepted this as they stood in that darkened alleyway, opening their hearts to one another, once more.
They made love that night after Hawke led him back to her estate, and this time Fenris did not flee. His motions were not hesitant as before but tenacious and even slightly aggressive as he swayed with her exuberantly throughout the night. He touched her and felt her and loved her more than he knew he was capable of doing. Hawke felt his eagerness and reproduced his sensations, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers, once again. She could feel herself flushing as his passion took over her, but she would not lean away from it as he continued. He showed her that he would never cease and she understood he had no intention of doing so. She was his
