AN: Based on reader feedback I edited out a couple of shots at humor that went awry and broke story immersion. So if you look at other reviews and wonder what they're talking about, that's what :-)
Misery sighed deeply at the sound of her sister's giggling coming from roughly a hundred feet behind her. She didn't need to look back to know that she and Anders were holding hands again while the party trudged along the winding trails leading upwards on Sundermount, the largest of the mountains making up the Vimmark Mountains north of Kirkwall.
It had been three days since she, Varric, Aveline, Anders, Bethany, and Revas had set out from Kirkwall for Sundermount. In that time they'd completed Aveline's job of intercepting the raiders planning the caravan ambush, and moved on from there further into the mountains. The two mages had gravitated towards each other's company, and spent most of the days and evenings talking.
Varric chuckled at the sound of exasperation coming from the rogue to his left. "Sunshine and Blondie getting on your nerves?" he asked, his tone revealing his amusement.
Misery didn't bother turning her head to glare at him. "These mountains aren't safe. They need to pay less attention to each other and more attention to our surroundings. Not treat this like we are out for a casual stroll."
"Uh huh… you've already got your guard dog back there with them. So what's really bothering you? You've been very quiet all day today, even by your standards." He already had a good idea that she strongly disliked how close Anders and Bethany had become in the time since the group had set out from Kirkwall, but he wanted to see if Hawke would admit it on her own.
Misery briefly closed her eyes at the sound of rather loud laughter coming from the pair of mages. She knew she'd become increasingly irritable about those two, and that their lack of awareness wasn't the key reason. And it certainly wasn't jealousy over Bethany meeting someone, which the younger girl had all but accused her of during a private conversation the night before.
She glanced up at the sky while considering if she wanted to reply, and if so what she wanted to say. Probably a few more hours until it will time to stop and camp, she thought absentmindedly. Much to her chagrin, they weren't going to reach where they'd been told the Dalish camp was located before nightfall.
Turning her thoughts back to Varric's question, she finally decided on a partial answer. "Anders has obvious commitment issues and Bethany is being naïve in thinking it will be different with her."
"Oh, I don't know. Merging with Justice was a damn big commitment."
"Do not even get me started on the abomination stuff," she replied, her tone carrying an undercurrent of warning. After several moments of silence she continued, "How committed to Karl could he really have been if less than a week later he's already moving into a new relationship? Not only that, I saw the looks he was giving Bethany at his clinic the morning after he killed Karl. He was already moving on to his next conquest."
"Conquest? You make it sound like he's trying to take advantage of her."
Misery waved her hand. "Conquest, experience, whatever you want to call it. I got the impression from his spiel about loving men and women equally that he goes for whoever strikes his fancy at the moment. That does not impress me."
"Maybe he wasn't as close to Karl as we think?"
"Well, what about the Grey Wardens? I don't know much about them, but even Anders admits it's supposed to be a life commitment. And he bailed out on them."
"Yeah…" he mumbled before falling silent. He could see her point, but he also thought this was Sunshine's choice to make. Not that he was going to tell Misery that.
"I know it's her decision," Misery added a couple of minutes later, as if reading his mind. "But it doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking out for her best interests."
Varric started to reply, but loud barking at the rear of the group got everyone's attention.
"Bandits!" Misery shouted while drawing her bow. "Form up!"
-==0==-
The raven haired rogue fumed at Bethany's apologetic gaze while the younger girl healed her. The battle had started off poorly because the bandits had gotten the jump on them from behind. Despite the warning from Revas, the oblivious mages got hit by crossbow bolts before becoming aware of the number and locations of the enemies.
Aveline and Revas took off after the archers while Varric and Misery covered them. But by the time the pair of mages got involved on the offensive side of the battle, the two rogues had been overrun and were at a significant disadvantage. If not for the former Grey Warden's healing magic, the battle likely would have been lost.
Misery spun away from her sister as soon as she finished with her. "Loot the bodies!" she ordered. "And cut the emblems off their armor."
"Why's that?" Varric asked.
"These guys match the description of the Flint Company mercenaries that we have Sebastian's bounty for. He would have to be pretty damned stupid to simply take our word for it that we took out a group of them, so we'll take the emblems back as proof."
"Good thinking, Hawke," Aveline replied with an approving nod. She moved towards to start collecting emblems.
After finishing up with the mercenaries, Misery silently continued up the path, the unspoken expectation for everyone to follow clear. Several minutes later she pointed to a small clearing off the trail that she'd spied. "We will make camp there," she declared.
She scowled at the puzzled expressions her order raised on her companions' faces, knowing they were all questioning why they were shutting it down for the day earlier than usual. But she didn't feel like she needed to explain herself. Instead, she harshly issued additional orders.
"Bethany, you're on cooking duty. Aveline, set out the bedrolls. Varric, dig a fire pit. Revas, keep watch for more bandits. Anders, come with me to collect firewood."
"Hey!" Varric protested, "Why do I have to dig?"
"Isn't that what dwarves do?" Misery asked. Under different circumstances she'd have winked or flashed a grin to show she was teasing, but in her current mood she let her remark stand on its own.
"See, now that's just stereotyping. Not all of us are into the whole tunneling miles underground thing."
Misery only scowled further at the look that passed between Anders and Bethany. It wasn't lost on anyone that Misery taking Anders away from the others was premeditated, but the two mages were the only ones to overtly acknowledge it.
"Sister…" Bethany began before Misery waved her off. The mage sighed, halting her protest.
"Good luck, Blondie," Varric offered with a wink, hoping to defuse the tension. Anders chuckled a bit uneasily, but followed Misery into the wooded area.
-==0==-
Anders took a deep breath. He'd been off with Misery for several minutes gathering fallen branches, and though his companion was visibly agitated, so far she hadn't said anything. The anticipation was making him tenser by the minute.
"So… I'm sorry about earlier…" he began, trying to break the ice. "You know, for getting caught off guard. I won't let it happen again."
Misery turned around to face the mage. "If I can't trust you with a little thing like watching out so bandits don't get the drop on her, how can I trust you to have her best interests in mind with bigger things?"
"Ahhh… so that's what this is about." Anders folded his arms over his chest. "You're worried about the big bad abomination being close to your sister."
"That's part of it," she admitted. "You said it yourself that Justice knows no mercy and that you have no control over him when he takes over. Can you guarantee you'll be able to protect her from him?"
Anders sighed in frustration. This is why I don't tell people about Justice. "It's not like that. Justice is an extension of me, and me of him. Even when I do lose control of myself and he comes out, he's not without the ability to reason. I've never regained control afterwards and found out that he'd caused me to attack a friend or ally."
Misery nodded. "Still, you haven't been merged with him for so long a time to know for sure it won't happen."
"I… suppose not…"
"Tell me, Anders, is Bethany just another notch in your bedpost to you?"
"Wh-what's that supposed to mean?"
Misery's eyes narrowed. "I noticed how quickly you got over Karl. The next fucking morning you were exchanging looks with Bethany. Some commitment to him, eh? And the stuff about loving men and women equally makes it clear you've had multiple relationships in the past."
"Look, Karl and I were lovers, but not in love, if that makes any sense. I cared deeply for him, but it would've been more accurate to say we were good friends that occasionally enjoyed each other's physical company than to say we were together."
"Yeah… not making me feel any better about your commitment issues," Misery replied sarcastically.
Anders scowled. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? Are you telling me to stay away from Bethany?"
After a several second pause, Misery began to shake her head slowly. "No… she's my little sister, but she's a grown woman capable of deciding for herself. I just don't want her getting hurt by her desperation."
"Desperation? Desperate for what?"
"Bethany is the type that wants nothing more than to grow up, get married, have children, and live happily ever after. She's not unaccustomed to guys being interested in her, but always having to worry about being discovered as an apostate and how that would affect both her and the family, she's never been in a position to return anyone's interest before now."
Anders silently filled in his own conclusion. So her interest in me could be nothing more than I'm the first man she's been around that knows what she is and can relate to it.
"Anders?" Misery asked when he didn't reply for a minute or so. The mage drew his eyes from the ground in front of him and looked over at her, silently prompting her to continue.
"Despite all we've been through, Bethany has somehow managed to retain some of her innocence. She's such a sweet girl… everything I am not. And I guarantee she is not looking for a 'friends with benefits' relationship, so you need to think very carefully about what your intentions are with her before it progresses too far," she warned.
"So how did you two come from the same environment yet end up so different?" he asked, mostly trying to redirect the topic of conversation away from him.
"Coming from the same environment doesn't mean we have the same life experiences."
"True…" he replied, trailing off in expectation that she'd continue. When she didn't, he asked, "Are you saying your life has been rougher than hers?"
Misery detected the tinge of accusation in the former warden's tone, implying that Bethany's life as an apostate was by default more difficult. She shook her head.
"Not rougher. Just… different. I imagine you've done quite a few things you're not proud of in the name of survival, in the name of freedom?"
Anders shrugged as if to say "Of course," without actually verbalizing his response. Misery nodded before continuing, "Yes, well, as you know, Bethany is not an escapee of the Circle. She's been free her whole life, at least as much as an apostate can ever truly be free. But whereas you had to survive on your own after breaking free of the Circle, she grew up with a strong family around her that functioned as her sword and shield."
Nodding slowly, Anders concluded, "So you were raised to be her shield."
"Sometimes… but more often I've been her sword. And she doesn't know the half of what Father and I did over the years to ensure both that he would never go back to the Circle and that she'd never spend a single day there. Mother knows even less. And I've kept both of them in the dark about much of the wickedness I was forced to carry out in Athenril's service, jobs I made damned sure Bethany was excluded from."
"Your father… he sounds like a great man."
"He was."
"After he died, it didn't fall to your brother to… you know, take up his stead?"
Misery briefly wondered how much Bethany had already told him, knowing that her sister had a more outgoing personality that she did. Still, she trusted Bethany to be careful with personal details.
"Carver was an immature 14-year old at the time. Father knew he was dying and there simply wasn't time to finish Carver's training. I was already at the age of majority, I already knew many of Father's contacts, the merchants he used to procure things we couldn't produce on our small farm, and how to proactively keep prying eyes away from the family."
"'Proactively keep prying eyes away'… An awfully fancy way to describe killing," Anders replied with a smirk.
Misery shrugged unapologetically. "If necessary. It was also knowing how to mine information at the tavern from travelers passing through. Sometimes keeping us safe merely involved a well-timed out of town journey to visit cousins."
"I-I suppose I've only considered the difficulties of being a mage on the run from the point of view of actually being the mage. And here I'd thought you would've had the easier time of things. I… I guess not."
"In any case, I am still Bethany's sword and shield, and I will not hesitate to strike down anyone that hurts her or is a threat to do so. So again I tell you, think very carefully about your intentions with her. Do not pursue this relationship if you aren't willing to commit your heart to it."
Misery's expression began to turn dark as she continued speaking. "Because I swear this to you now – if you ruin what innocence she has left and expect to simply walk away afterwards, you are sorely mistaken. There will be no escape from me, and I will make you beg for the templars to come save you."
Anders bristled at the verbal dressing down he was receiving, his sympathetic mood from moments earlier shattered. He felt his anger rising, but fought to keep it suppressed. To lash out now would only confirm in her mind that he was a danger unable to control himself. He gritted his teeth at having to just take it.
"Are we done here?" he asked pointedly.
Misery nodded curtly. "Finish gathering wood and we'll head back."
-==0==-
Bethany turned towards the sound of boots scuffling the earth, which signaled the approach of the firewood she was waiting on. But more than that, it was the approach of the two people at the forefront of her mind. She was anxious to find out what transpired between them while they were off alone.
Varric groaned as he looked over at their approach.
"Told you so," Aveline stated smugly while holding out her hand.
"Yeah, yeah…" Varric muttered while digging in his pack. He made a production out of painstakingly producing five silvers and dropping them one at a time into the warrior's outstretched hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Varric."
"What's that about?" Misery asked as she dropped the wood she was carrying into the pit the dwarf had dug. "By the way, nice work on the pit, Digger."
Varric blanched. "'Digger' will not be my new nickname, Hawke."
"Varric bet me five silver that you'd be coming back alone," Aveline explained.
Anders chuckled sardonically while shaking his head at the dwarf. "You sound rather disappointed that she didn't."
"Only about the coin, Blondie. Only about the coin."
Misery scowled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." She walked away from the group in a huff.
"Shit… that was supposed to make her laugh, not get more upset," Varric said once she got out of earshot.
After roughly thirty yards, Misery plopped down and leaned back against a large boulder, briefly staring back at the group she could still plainly see but wasn't close enough to hear.
Revas, who had followed automatically, lay down and curled up at her side. He had the uncanny ability to sense what she needed from him, whether it was being a vigilant protector, a playful companion, or to merely provide reassuring comfort with his presence like he was doing now.
Just as automatic was Misery's hand gravitating to her dog's head, absentmindedly scratching him behind the ears and massaging the back of his neck and shoulders while closing her eyes and losing herself in thought. A slight smile tugged at her lips after a couple of minutes when his steady breathing turned to snores. Feeling some of the day's stress washing off, she indulged her own weariness and drifted off.
-==0==-
"So, Blondie," Varric began in an amused tone after Misery had gone and sat down, "You appear to still be intact, so I guess it could've been worse, huh?"
Bethany glanced up from the pot she was working over. She'd planned to pull Anders aside as soon as she could to find out what happened, but it looked like Varric was going to bring it up for group discussion.
Anders scoffed. "For now at least. I might need to cast a ward to keep my balls from being cut off in my sleep though."
"What did she say?" Bethany asked softly.
Loudly exhaling a deep breath, Anders rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. "Oh, it was a 'Come to the Maker' meeting. Complete with threatening my life to reinforce her point."
"Maker's breath…" Bethany sighed in frustration. "I'm so sorry she did that to you."
"Yeah, well… fortunately you're worth the abuse," he replied with a wink that caused the female mage to blush and Varric to laugh.
"We'll see if you're still saying that a year from now," Aveline replied dryly. She didn't intend to stick her nose into the younger Hawke's business, but she was with Misery in doubting Anders' long-term staying power.
Anders held his hands over his heart. "You wound me," he said mockingly.
The redhead waved her hand dismissively, but couldn't suppress a grin even though she didn't say anything further.
Bethany giggled lightly at the silliness of her fellow mage, thankful for him lightening the mood. When Anders smiled at her she winked back, and with a nod indicated that she'd talk to him more about what happened later when they could have some privacy.
The group fell into a comfortable silence while Bethany worked on dinner. That is, until noises coming from a little ways away got everyone's attention. They looked over to see Misery thrashing, grunting, and groaning.
"Sister!" Bethany yelped, taking off running immediately. The others quickly followed.
-==0==-
Misery jerked awake with an audible gasp. The strong hands of Aveline held her arms in place, preventing her from immediately lashing out. As it was, it took the rogue a couple of moments to become fully aware of where she was. She pulled her knees up to her chest and her head slumped forward while she took fast, shallow breaths.
"Misery, what happened?" Varric asked.
Aveline released her grip on Misery and stood back up once it became apparent she was back in control of herself. Misery put her face in her hands. "N-nothing… I-I am fine," she grunted.
Varric frowned. "Everyone who believes that raise their hands." When no one did, he added, "Sorry, Hawke, it's unanimous. You're full of shit."
"The witch…" Bethany stated knowingly. "Flemeth haunts her dreams."
"Shut up!" Misery growled.
"That damned amulet," the young mage continued. "I think it's a medium of sorts. I don't know why it matters so much, but the witch somehow senses through the amulet that it hasn't been given to the Dalish keeper yet. And it's clear she won't leave my sister alone until the task is done."
"I said, shut up!" Misery coughed violently before biting down hard on her bottom lip to suppress the groan that tried to escape.
"Is she okay? Do we need to do something other than stand around watching her suffer?" Varric asked in concern.
Anders thought about sending some healing magic her way, but he was still irate with her for earlier and not above being petty. So he did nothing.
"Let her be…" Bethany said softly. "Give her a few minutes to catch her breath."
It was Aveline's turn to frown. "Does this happen to you too?" she asked Bethany. "I haven't experienced anything like what you're describing."
"No, it doesn't," Bethany admitted.
Aveline shook her head. "Why just Misery then? You and I were there too when the deal was made to deliver the amulet. And just how long has this been going on?"
Bethany shrugged at the redheaded guard. "Since about a month after we arrived in Kirkwall. At first it was maybe once a month. That I know of anyway. Lately it's been every few days."
"Bethany… stop it… just… stop it." Misery said weakly. Her head was still pounding. She felt like someone had driven spikes right behind her eyes, which she kept clenched shut because during the brief time she had them open earlier she had to fight back the urge to throw up.
Ignoring her sister's protests, Bethany continued, "Maybe the witch only torments her because she's the one that actually made the deal and accepted the amulet."
Varric sighed. "So this is what she meant when she said this trip was necessary." Bethany nodded solemnly in response.
"Damn it, you two," Aveline began, her tone stern. "You should have told me this was going on. Even if Athenril refused to let you make the delivery on her time, I would have made sure it got delivered. It wasn't like I didn't have the time."
"Don't think I didn't try to convince her to let you take it," the younger Hawke replied.
"Is she that stubborn about everything?" Anders asked.
Misery growled again. "It is my duty, my responsibility. I don't abandon my commitments," she said without looking up. Her implication was clear though.
"All hail the bloody fucking Divine herself, Misery Hawke," the former Grey Warden replied acerbically. He'd had more than enough of her attitude.
Misery finally looked up. The pounding in her head had subsided to a dull throb and she was incensed by the whole situation. "It doesn'ttake being divine to have honor. So why don't you run along now? After all, running away is what you do, isn't it?"
"Hawke…" Varric began. He could see this getting ugly and was trying to head it off.
Before he could continue, however, Anders took an aggressive step forward and the magical energy around him began to glow. Reacting on instinct, Misery immediately raised her hand and began to utter words in a foreign tongue.
"No!" Bethany screeched, practically leaping forward to clamp her hand over her sister's mouth. "Don't you dare! Anders, back off!"
The male mage caught himself even before Aveline stepped in front of him, and he let the energies dissipate while taking a few steps back. As he turned back towards the central part of the camp he frowned for a different reason.
"Bethany, your pot is boiling over."
"Maker's breath!" she swore as she turned and bolted to save the group's dinner. Anders and Aveline followed at a much more leisurely pace.
Varric chuckled, offering his hand to Misery. "Come on, Divine, let's go eat some burnt porridge. It'll make you feel better."
Misery smirked and accepted his help getting up before replying, "Lead the way, Digger."
"Ummm… yeah… how about I don't call you 'Divine' if you don't call me 'Digger'?"
"Deal."
-==0==-
"Got this one during my second escape," Anders said with a slight chuckle while gesturing to a long scar running up his right forearm. "Or maybe it was my third?"
It was a few hours later and darkness had settled in over this part of Thedas. Not having bought tents for the trip, the group was sitting around the campfire on their bedrolls. Fortunately, the hostility between Misery and Anders had cooled as rapidly as the mountain air after sunset, and they were coexisting peacefully as the group conversation bounced from topic to topic.
Varric shook his head. "How many times did you get caught before finally getting away for good?"
"For good?" Anders repeated softly. "An apostate can't think in those terms. I'm currently on my seventh escape, which has fortunately lasted longer than any of the previous ones. But we can't ever think we're beyond the Chantry's reach. As soon as we do, the templars swoop in… and as Warden Commander Alistair liked to say, swooping is bad."
Aveline briefly wondered if Wesley had ever tracked down and caught Anders. She knew of course that her husband had been a mage hunter, but he rarely spoke of the specifics of individual missions.
"Seven…" Bethany said quietly. Anders had already told her this in previous days, but it was still hard for her to believe. She admired his persistence, the strength of his resolve.
"Templars are a rather persistent lot, huh?" Varric asked. He'd heard plenty of stories, but as a dwarf that didn't deal in lyrium either legally or illegally, he rarely had cause to interact with mages in general or with the Chantry organization.
"It's their job," Aveline said simply.
Anders scowled. "Bunch of bloody sadists using Andraste to justify the oppression and horror they inflict."
Misery cleared her throat lightly after glancing over and catching Aveline close her eyes briefly. "You might not want to toss all templars into the same basket in present company," the rogue began. "Aveline's deceased husband, Ser Wesley, was a Fereldan templar."
Anders opened his mouth to speak, but closed it and fell silent. He racked his brain trying to remember if he'd ever encountered a Ser Wesley either at the Circle Tower or during his escape attempts. He came up empty though. He took a peek at Aveline to his right, on the other side of Bethany. He noticed that the warrior was staring blankly at the fire.
"Aveline, how did Wesley die?" Varric asked.
She sighed, not taking her gaze from the fire. "Misery killed him," she finally answered in a solemn tone after a few moments.
Anders and Varric both stiffened at the revelation, while Misery merely rolled her eyes at the way Aveline presented it.
"What?" Varric asked in surprise. "H-Hawke? You killed Aveline's husband?" How in the Void are these two women friends after that?
"Only in the most literal sense of the word."
"The 'most literal sense'? What other way is there to kill someone?" Varric asked incredulously.
The raven haired rogue glanced over at Aveline. "It's your story to tell, not mine."
Aveline shook her head. "No, it's fine, go ahead."
Sighing, Misery took a moment to collect her thoughts before beginning to speak. "It was right after we had been saved by the Witch of the Wilds and I'd agreed to take the amulet to the Dalish keeper outside of Kirkwall…"
-==0==-
Mireille nodded solemnly, taking in the witch's heavy gaze.
What was it she called herself again? Mireille asked herself. Flemeth? Asha'somethingsoundingelven? Probably not going to go over well just calling her 'Witch of the Wilds' she thought.
"Thank you, Flemeth. I will see that the amulet reaches the Dalish keeper," Mireille replied.
The witch nodded once before looking over Mireille's left shoulder. "Before I clear a path to Gwaren, however, there is another matter." She brushed past the rogue and stalked in the direction of Ser Wesley, who was sitting propped up against a boulder, holding his arm over his stomach in obvious distress. His skin had paled, the veins underneath creating dark lines across his face and neck.
Aveline, who had been knelt down at her husband's side, leapt to her feet immediately. "No!" she declared angrily. "Leave him alone!"
An almost sympathetic expression formed on the witch's face. "What has been done to your man is within his blood already. He will not make it."
"That's a lie!" the warrior declared, refusing to accept that she couldn't save him.
Wesley coughed. "No, Aveline, she's right. I can feel the corruption inside me. Th-the blasted darkspawn that wounded me… I f-feel its t-taint."
Mireille looked over at Flemeth, who had only a short time ago transformed from a dragon into the human standing before her. The woman looked ancient, yet ageless at the same time. Striking amber eyes were framed by shadows of stories untold, smooth skin marked with the deep lines of age only around those eyes. She wore a metal headband that almost reminded her of a tiara, though it was nothing like the tiaras worn by princesses in portraits and storybooks Mireille had seen in the past.
The headband rose upwards from the middle of her forehead to a sharp point, and around the back of her head served as a sort of terrace that held up much of her long white hair. Four bundles of hair were tied off stiffly in red cord, giving the appearance of horns. It was an unusual but undoubtedly carefully crafted look.
Along the same lines, Mireille strongly doubted that Flemeth's body was the result of natural aging. She wore tight, dark red leathers that hugged her shapely curves, exposing smooth skinned cleavage despite the impracticality of the armor not covering her chest. Then again, when she could turn into a dragon it was possible she never had to worry about fighting anyone as a human. Flemeth carried herself with grace, but her appearance suggested danger, much like the low even tones she spoke in.
"Is there nothing you can do for him?" Mireille asked. "You are obviously a wielder of powerful magic."
A very slight smirk crept across Flemeth's face. More than you know, Child, she thought to herself before replying, "The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden."
Aveline's expression fell further. "And they all died at Ostagar…"
"Not all," corrected Flemeth, adding, "but the last are now well beyond your reach."
All eyes turned back towards Wesley, who was in the process of drawing his ceremonial dagger from a boot sheath. He wore a look of resignation to his fate on his face.
"Aveline… listen to me…"
"No, Wesley. You can't ask me this! I won't!"
"Please, my love… The corruption is a slow death. I can't…" he fell into a coughing fit that lasted several seconds before subsiding. "Please…" he pleaded.
Aveline closed her eyes. The proud warrior was obviously fighting not to cry.
"Bethany," Mireille said while gesturing back towards the main trail, "take everyone up around that bend. I will be along shortly. Aveline… go with them please."
The warrior frowned at the raven haired scoundrel, thinking back to first encountering her earlier in the day and how the girl had been more than prepared to kill Wesley then if he hadn't backed down about Bethany. She did not want to have to put her own husband to the blade, but she also wasn't sure she could leave it to Mireille either.
Mireille saw the conflict etched on the woman's face. "Aveline…" she began gently, "Remember him in life… not in death granted by your hand. I will be quick and merciful, I promise you this."
Aveline hesitated, but finally closed her eyes again and nodded sadly. She opened her eyes again, staring for a long moment into the eyes of her husband through unshed tears.
"Be strong, my love," Wesley softly pleaded. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded again before leaning in and kissing him one last time. Her eyes and trembling lips gave away the emotion she refused to give voice to. But she silently communicated everything that needed to be said. Finally she pulled away and left to join the others, leaving Mireille and Wesley alone.
"I trust you will keep your promise to be quick and merciful," Wesley said with more than a little bitterness in his tone as he handed Mireille his dagger.
"Duty places us in conflict, but I take no pleasure in this, Ser Wesley," Mireille replied softly. "And for whatever value it holds for you, you have my word that I will do everything I can to see Aveline to safety. I will protect her as my own family."
The tension drained from Wesley's face and a slight smile formed. "Thank you…" he whispered.
"M-may the Maker guide your soul…" she whispered back, her own eyes beginning to glisten.
Mireille lined up the point of the dagger with the seam of his armor underneath his left armpit, then closed her eyes and thrust hard and fast. Only a brief hiss came from Wesley as the blade pierced the skin on its way to his heart.
After a few moments she backed the blade out, placing it in his hands before resting them on his chest. She then reached up and gently closed his eyes. Standing up, she nodded one last time at the body.
"May the Maker guide your soul…" she echoed softly.
-==0==-
Misery trailed off as she finished the story. As with Aveline, her gaze was locked on the fire in front of her. "Fucking Blight…" she muttered after half a minute went by in silence.
"You lost your brother right around that same time, didn't you?" Varric asked in a somber tone.
"Yeah… not even an hour before Wesley."
Bethany sighed deeply. "And the Blight claimed Father three years before that."
Varric raised an eyebrow curiously. Realizing he needed to tread very lightly with his question, he gently asked, "The accounts I've seen and heard say the Blight only lasted a year. Did it really go longer than that?"
Misery scoffed. "The darkspawn don't issue a formal proclamation announcing the start of a Blight. It began long before the idiots in Denerim ever declared it as such."
Anders nodded solemnly. "Back when I was at Vigil's Keep, the Grey Warden fortress in Amaranthine, the Warden Commander told me that he and the Hero of Ferelden spent more time trying to unite the armies of Ferelden than actually fighting darkspawn. It was only formally acknowledged by the nobility and the crown as a Blight about a week before it actually ended. But the darkspawn were active in southern Ferelden long before that."
"A week long Blight, huh?" Varric asked. "Bet that was anticlimactic."
Anders gave a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, except apparently afterwards the nobility looked back and decided to consider the betrayal of King Cailan and the Grey Wardens at Ostagar as the official start of it. I got the impression giving Amaranthine to the wardens was the queen's way of apologizing."
"You make it sound like you weren't around at the time," Varric noted. "You didn't help end the Blight?"
"No, I was recruited maybe six months after they took down the archdemon."
Varric raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Ummm… how long did you say you were in Amaranthine again?"
Anders shrugged. "Well, we did some fighting, rebuilt a keep, did some more fighting… I'd guess about nine months. Why?"
"That makes no sense, Blondie. From what you're saying, it'd have to be a good year and a half from the end of the Blight until you arrived in Kirkwall, but the Blight only ended five or six months ago."
"Maybe Anders tells time as well as you do," Misery suggested in a sarcastic reference to the dwarf not waiting anywhere near a full hour before following her into the Amell estate cellar.
Varric waved his hand as if to say, "Whatever."
Bethany glanced questioningly over at her sister. Misery caught the glance and knew what she was asking. With a sigh she reluctantly nodded.
"We didn't know it was Blight sickness at the time, but that's what Father died from," Bethany said. "He'd read an entry on apostates in a codex at the Lothering Chantry and got intrigued by the mention of 'hedge mages'. They are a type of apostate living in the Hinterlands, which run about as far south as you can go in Ferelden, and they apparently practice magic that is very different than the common Circle of Magi tradition."
"Anyway," Bethany continued, "Father took me with him and his friend Barlin, and we traveled down south in search of some of these hedge mages to possibly learn from. I remember Father was especially interested in possible techniques for hiding magical abilities, saying the vagueness of the codex entry suggested that these hedge mages were a bit of a blind spot to the Chantry."
The young mage paused briefly, shaking her head. "We only came across a couple of smattering of houses that passed for villages out there in the middle of nowhere, but the people were so far removed from civilization that they didn't speak the common tongue. So not only was the trip fruitless, we ran into small packs of darkspawn several times."
"The last time… on the way back… my mana was spent and I was barely holding back a genlock, and Old Barlin was across the field with a hurlock. Father left the hurlock he was battling to come to my aid. He ran the genlock through, but the hurlock followed and slashed the back of his arm with its claw."
Anders could tell that the story was already starting to get to her. He slid closer and put his arm around her in a gesture of comfort. Misery noticed but returned her gaze to the fire without showing any reaction.
Bethany gave a slight smile in appreciation as she continued her story. "We finished off the darkspawn, then afterwards I cleaned out the wound and bandaged his arm, and he healed himself… but I guess it wasn't enough. Father didn't complain, but it was obvious he never felt right after that. Healing magic… potions… salves… antidotes… didn't do anything but delay the inevitable. He knew he was dying, but he fought it for as long as he could. He'd grown pale and sickly like Ser Wesley, though Father managed to hang on for about a month after being wounded."
Anders sighed loudly. "Even if your father had known the Grey Wardens might be able to help him, he'd have been hard pressed to actually find them in Ferelden back then."
Bethany and Misery both nodded solemnly in acknowledgment of that. The younger Hawke took and released a deep breath before starting the last part.
"One morning he called all of us children into the room where he and Mother were… he told us he could feel something changing inside… said that he needed to end it before it was too late. We stayed with him all day, and after nightfall he said his goodbyes and left the house. He… Mother told us later he had already arranged it with Old Barlin to kill him and cremate his body immediately to ensure whatever had corrupted his body didn't spread."
"Remember him in life," Aveline said softly, staring across the fire at Misery. She now understood why Hawke had insisted on her not actually seeing Wesley's death. Misery met and held the warrior's gaze for a moment before nodding once and averting her eyes back to the fire.
"Yes…" answered Bethany for her sister. "He made sure our last memories of him were him standing at the door smiling and telling us he loved us. And… th-then he was g-gone…" Her breath caught after the last of her words came out in an unsteady quaver.
The group let the silence envelope them. Neither of the Hawkes had anything else to add, and the others were conscientious enough to give them some emotional space. After a few minutes, Misery tapped Revas on the side before standing up and walking a short distance away.
Varric cleared his throat. "Hey, Aveline? How about we walk the perimeter before turning in, just to make sure we're alone out here?" The redhead nodded and stood up to go with him.
"I doubt my sister will sleep tonight," Bethany said, "but I don't want her to keep watch alone. You two decide on a watch order and just let us know when you get back." Varric and Aveline both nodded in agreement as they left Anders and Bethany alone.
-==0==-
"Are you okay?" Anders asked gently.
Bethany leaned further into him, causing him to turn a bit so she could rest her head on his chest. "Yeah… you know, that was the first time I was ever able to tell that story and be completely truthful, without having to alter or gloss over the details." She smiled. "It feels good having friends I can just be myself with. That I don't have to lie to or hide things from."
"I can imagine how difficult it would have been growing up, forced to keep so much of yourself a secret, for your own safety and for others'. I wonder if your brother and sister understood how lucky they were to not have that burden."
"Lucky? No… they sacrificed so much for me. Miri especially. I was four when my talents first manifested, I barely even remember it. But I know that was basically the end of her childhood."
"Who is Miri?"
Bethany stiffened, sitting up straight and covering her mouth with her hand as her eyes opened wide. "Wh-what? Where did you hear that name?"
"You just said it a second ago."
"Shit…" she swore before silently scolding herself. She glanced up at Anders' confused expression, her expression hardening. "Do not ever say that name in the presence of my sister, please."
"Uhhh… okay." A few seconds later it clicked. "That… that's her real name?"
"Yes. At least, that's my nickname for her anyway. It's a shortened version of her real name. She didn't start calling herself 'Misery' until right after we arrived in Kirkwall."
"What's her actual name?"
Bethany shook her head vehemently. "Sorry, you won't hear it from me. It's hers to tell if she chooses to. But I'm dead serious about not repeating what I let slip. Father and I are the only two people in this world that ever called her by that nickname, so she'll know immediately where you learned it. And you've already seen what her temper can be like. Do not make me face that."
Anders would have laughed at the seriousness of Bethany's expression over something as silly as a name, except that he did know what her sister's temper was like. Instead he sighed gently and nodded. "You have my word."
After the female relaxed and settled back in his arms, he asked a question that was beginning to burn in his mind. "Do… do you need me to rescue you from her?"
"What do you mean?"
The former Grey Warden felt his irritation beginning to rise again as he thought back to earlier in the evening. "I know what she was doing when you interrupted her during that argument before dinner. Does she use those templar skills to keep you prisoner under the guise of protecting you?"
Bethany immediately pushed away from him, staring at her fellow mage in shock. "Are you insane?" she asked incredulously. "My sister is no templar! And she is most certainly not keeping me held prisoner!"
"You don't have to lie to me, Bethany. I've been on the receiving end of what she was casting far too many times not to recognize it."
"She isn't lying to you," an approaching voice stated firmly. Bethany gasped at the sight of her sister standing a few feet away with Revas at her side, while Anders scowled in defiance.
"H-how much did you hear?" Bethany asked weakly.
"I heard enough. I came back to get my bow and to tell everyone that Revas and I were taking first watch." She leveled a glare at Anders while calming her fury at him. She didn't want to make Bethany regret leaping to her defense by overreacting anyway. Finally she began to explain.
"If you haven't figured it out by now, our father could be quite unorthodox when it came to gaining an edge in the fight to stay free. The reality is that not all apostates are good people simply looking for freedom. Some are pissed off at the world for their lot in life and don't care who they crush underfoot trying to take back what they think they deserve. Some are all too willing to seek out other apostates and bend them to their will to further their own agenda."
Misery decided to give a specific example, even though normally she wouldn't have even considered revealing something like this. "When Bethany was twelve, Father had to deal with this apostate that had the protection of a noble patron and tried to extort him into giving Bethany to him in marriage with the threat of having the templars crash down on our family if he refused."
"Wh-what?" Bethany gasped in shock. "I-I never heard about that!"
Misery waved her hand. "There are many things you never heard about. Anyway, the fight was bloody and Father was hurt badly. A friend of his got him out of there alive, but they weren't able to take down the other mage. I went to his estate late that night… snuck up on and killed two guards, then climbed the wall to the window of the mage's room on the third floor. Fucking pedophile had a girl in bed riding him that couldn't have been more than nine or ten. I lost count of how many times I stabbed the bastard."
Shaking her head, Misery continued, "Father was furious the next morning when I told him what I'd done. I'd never seen him that angry before, at least not at me. I didn't realize it until much later, but he was scared. He knew what that mage had done to him, and the thought of what he'd have done to me considering both that I was Malcolm Hawke's 16-year old daughter and that he obviously had a thing for young girls… I think it terrified him."
"So he taught you to defend yourself against magic wielders?"
"He didn't, but he had a templar friend, Ser Maron, who taught me a couple of useful skills. Though probably the most important thing he taught me was to not let myself become a lyrium addict in the process."
"I admit… I find it rather strange that a mage would willingly have their child trained in anti-magic. And that an apostate and a templar would be friends."
Misery smirked. "It was a templar that helped Father originally escape from the Circle. Not all templars are rabid Andrastians bent on abusing mages. And not all templars are templars by choice. Some are handed off to the Chantry as children simply because their parents don't want to deal with them or can't afford to. And some are sympathetic and willing to overlook an apostate that's a good citizen, has the sense not to draw attention to what they are, and are just trying to make a life for their family."
"Your father was a lucky man. I can't say I've met anyone in the Templar Order like that," Anders admitted.
"Anyway, the two templar skills I have are purely defensive, so don't think I'm going around smiting anyone. And no, I've never once used them on Bethany, not even in practicing or sparring. Though silence is rather tempting every now and then."
Bethany bowed her head slightly but didn't reply right away. Misery picked up her bow and began to walk away when the younger sister asked, "What happened to the girl?"
The rogue stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes. "I… was really hoping you wouldn't ask that…" she said softly before opening her eyes and turning back around to face the pair.
Bethany gulped at the expression of sorrow on her sister's face. "You didn't… please tell me you didn't…"
"Sh-she… I tried to get her to be quiet, to explain I wasn't there to hurt her. But she kept trying to yell for help. She was livid that I killed her… lover. I didn't understand how a little girl like that could even think in those terms, b-but… I think I knew there was something wrong with her for her to be so possessive of that creep, something unnatural."
"Blood magic…" Anders whispered before trailing off into silence.
Misery nodded. "That… that's what Father thought too when I told him, that the mage had been using blood magic to control her and had completely screwed up her mind."
The rogue took a deep breath before forcing herself to look her sister in the eyes. "I… I am sorry… the girl didn't leave me with any other choice. I didn't want to… but I couldn't let her cause me to be caught. I… told her I was sorry… right before I took her life."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Bethany whispered hoarsely. "On my account… again…" she added even quieter.
Misery sighed. "I guess there's no point in not telling the whole truth now… that little girl was the main reason Father had me learn the templar skills. He thought if I'd been able to cleanse the area of magic I might have been able to save her. He wanted me better prepared for the future."
Anders felt a twinge of heartache at the realization that he'd never had anyone devoted to him the way the Hawke family had obviously been to each other, the way Misery and Bethany still were. He also realized that prickly personality aside, he was seeing the older Hawke sister in an entirely new light than he had earlier.
"Misery? I… I apologize for saying what I did to Bethany, for suggesting you were disingenuous about protecting her. I think I understand now just how wrong that was."
The rogue smiled very slightly, nodding in acceptance of the apology. "Get some rest guys. I want to get an early start tomorrow so we can hopefully reach the Dalish camp by mid-day."
With that, she quickly moved away into the darkness. She'd quelled her emotions for almost as long as she could, and what she wanted now was a healthy dose of privacy where she could turn them loose. And first watch was as perfect an excuse for that as any.
.
AN: I got caught in kind of an in-between chapter. The content I'd planned I felt was too short for a complete chapter, but then going all the way up to the Dalish camp was going to be too long. So I took the opportunity to fill in more of the past. And then the length ran away from me anyway!
I couldn't find anything 'official' about how Malcolm Hawke died, just what Bethany says in-game about him having died in the Blight. So the backstory I gave him is completely my invention. I "borrowed" a couple of bit characters from DA:O Lothering (Barlin and Ser Maron) just for a little bit of familiarity.
If it didn't make sense to anyone, in my DA:O story I had Alistair become the Warden Commander instead of the typical PC warden.
Yeah, I know... in-game rogues can't get templar skills, only warriors can. But I like how Misery having just a couple of those skills fits the story context here.
