Chapter 10: With or without you
Another fire is burning against the autumn chill, wood crackling loudly, as I sit cross-legged in my robe, in contemplation. My father's journal rests in my hands, its worn brown cover staring back up at me in defiance. I take a deep breath and sigh. Since last night, while Fenris lay asleep so peacefully in my lap I have thought about opening it. The compulsion to do so is getting stronger, and with it my willful nature pushes it away. My stomach flips and I put the journal down. Anders is right. I am who I am regardless of what some book says. The past is done, I can't change it, but I can learn from it. My magic was taken away for a reason and I've survived these twenty nine years without it. I can stay cut off from the Fade and keep the demons at bay. There is no sense in delving in the past when it has no bearing on my future. It is time I cut the ties that bind me.
Standing up quickly, I intend to throw the journal into the fire but hesitate at the last moment. With a long drawn out sigh, I place it on the mantel. For some reason, I am unable to let it go so flippantly. Running my hands through my frizzed out hair that sticks up like I've been struck by a bolt of lightning, I head to the mirror, and tie it back. After receiving the letter this morning concerning Feynriel my mind has churned with uneasiness but I can't avoid this call for help since it was my fault he joined the Dalish in the first place. I dress quickly, deciding I'll get Fenris first then go to the Hanged Man and recruit some of the others for the trip. The elf should be awake and if he isn't I'll have the pleasure of watching him sleep again. My chest warms and I smile at the thought. I grab my things and head for his mansion.
There is still so much about him that catches me off guard, just like last night. After watching him sleep for a time I finally gave into the temptation to touch him, my thumb grazing the side of his jaw. His eyes snapped open and an instant later I found myself with my back on the floor starring up in numb shock at the elf on top of me. A second after he was off of me and apologizing profusely, but not before my heartbeat picked up and I gasped in surprise. I can't seem to get the memory out of my mind, hands pinned to the floor with his face inches from mine; the thought is intoxicating. For a moment, I swear I smell him, that blend of leather and spice that permeates the room he stays in at the mansion. I look up, almost expecting to see him heading my way, but the faces are those of strangers.
Its warmer out now having finally reached midday, the chill of the early morning has dissipated; although, I love that brisk air that catches your breath on the first inhalation, shocking your lungs and waking you instantly. I spoke to Anders briefly this morning just to make sure he was alright after the incident in the Gallows and the whole time the conversation between us seemed forced and halting, as if we are now unsure of each other. Perhaps we are. I worry for him now, that someday he will lose himself completely to Justice and I will be forced to do something I don't know if I have the strength to do. But it is a problem I can't solve, one he won't want me to, so I push the thought away.
I stand in front of the dilapidated mansion and push open the front door; it creaks eerily, sending a tremor down my spine. I close it behind me, although I don't know why, since it is about ten degrees cooler in here and the air smells old and stale. Shaking my head, I think that I really need to convince Fenris to get out of this place, not only does it look horrible but it's like walking into a vortex of doom. No wonder he is scowling all of the time.
Walking into the main bedroom, I expect to find him in his customary place only to recognize his breastplates, and all the pieces of his armor lying in a pile on the chair. I am about to call out his name when he enters wearing a towel around his hips, running one hand quickly back and forth through his wet hair, as tiny beads of water glisten on his chest and stomach. He stops abruptly upon seeing me and I am stricken silent by the beauty of him. The beads of water drip down slowly, following the contours of his muscles until they reach the towel. I realize my mouth is hanging open and quickly snap it shut. Face flushing in embarrassment, I instantly turn my back to him, although the image is now branded in my mind.
"I'm sorry Fenris, I didn't know. Should I come back?"
His feet pad softly behind me, barely audible in the deathly silent air. There is a rustle of movement followed by the slap of a wet towel falling to ground. The desire to turn around and peek is overwhelming. I am struck by the sudden need to press myself against his slick body, running my hands up his arms, over his chest and down his abdomen and yet lower still onto unexplored territory. My breath hisses inward and I have to close my eyes to gain some measure of composure back. Stop it Cassie, you're acting like a simpering school girl.
A hand brushes the back of my arm and I jump.
I turn towards the elf to find him smirking at me. "On edge, are we?" he asks. He is only half way clothed now. The expanse of his chest and back are exposed as well as part of his arms. This is somehow even more appealing to me, taunting me to reach out and touch him. With a great difficulty I pull my eyes away, his metal plates still sit ignored on the chair. He is doing this on purpose, he must be.
An embarrassed laugh escapes me and I look away, "Apparently only around you."
He frowns and backs away a step, his eyes holding a measure of hurt. "Do I frighten you?" he asks.
My eyes widen momentarily then I look away again as the blush creeps further up my cheeks. I am afraid of what I want to say, how he will react. I should give a nonchalant answer, but I can't, not anymore. "No," I say. "I am only afraid of what I want."
"And what do you want, Cassie?"
My breath catches. It is rare to hear him use my first name. I cross my arms over my chest in a vain attempt to keep myself from touching him. Doesn't he already know? Haven't the signs been obvious? I'm scowling when his hand pulls my chin upward to look at him. His gaze is terrifying in its intensity but the words won't come out, refusing to leave the safety of my mouth.
"What is it that you want, Cassandra?" he asks again, searching my face for an answer. He is pushing me when he already knows. Flaunting his bare chest that is so tantalizing close that I have to close my eyes or risk losing myself to him. I don't like being teased. His thumb follows the line of my jaw and I jerk back and glare at him.
"I would think the answer would be obvious," I snap.
He takes a step back, the ambient light in the room making his brands glimmer. His brow furrows and a frown forms on his face. I look away and change the subject.
"I was wondering if you would help with rescuing Feynriel," I say, irritation still evident in my voice, and glance at him. His face knits in confusion at the name then realization as the scowl forms and I plow ahead before he can respond. "I got a letter this morning from his mother begging for my help. I feel responsible since I sent him to the Dalish in the first place. I feel like I should help."
His jaw clenches in condemnation. "I told you sending him away was a mistake. He belongs in the Circle."
My nostrils flare and irrationally I lash out, "And do I belong in the Circle too, Fenris?"
His face falls and I can tell he is unsure of what to say. "You are not a mage, Hawke," he tries, but his rejection of the thought is evident, and I can't help but notice he used my last name instead of my first. Something in my chest twists.
"I am. You proved it yourself when you gave your lyrium to me."
He glowers, "And you avoid using it at all costs."
Yes there is truth to that statement. I don't want to use it for fear of what it will do to me. My breath comes short before I can snap back at him, as the full realization to why I don't, hits me. I don't use it for fear of what it will do to me. Makers Breath, am I such a hypocrite?
I turn away from him and start pacing. How have I not realized this? How have I become so blind to my own actions? "When did I become such a coward?" I say to myself.
He sighs. "You're not a coward. It's just easier to run than it is to face what you fear."
I wheel on him, "I am a hypocrite. I shout for mage freedom and yet run from my own magic. You can't get much more hypocritical than that."
He frowns. "Then do something about it."
I look at him and think of my father's journal at home sitting on my mantel. "What? Learn how to use it? Confront the-" my mouth snaps shut as I almost admit to the voices I hear.
"Confront what?" he asks, but it is something in his expression that tells me he already knows the answer.
I look away, unable to bear the accusation in his eyes. A sigh leaves my lips. There is no point in avoiding the obvious now. "The voices I hear when I do."
From the corner of my eye I see him nodding his head, his brows drawing together as if he has just heard something particularly disappointing, "I thought so."
My eyes jerk to him. "So, you knew?"
"I suspected."
I let out a disgusted groan and sit into the filthy chair making it puff out a huge layer of dust. "I am surprised you didn't inform the Knight Commander yourself, then," I reply angrily, although the anger is more directed at myself than at him but he replies in kind anyway.
"If you were anyone else I probably would have," he retorts, his head whipping back to shake the hair out of his eyes. The movement makes his brands glint again and I find myself balling my hands into tight fists, nails making little half-moon circles in my palms just to avoid closing that distance. Whether it would be to strangle him or kiss him I don't know. Perhaps both.
I fix him with a fierce look. I hate that he stands there distracting me with his bare chest and abdomen, and the fact that he doesn't even know he is doing it. I hate that every part of me is screaming to touch him and run my hands over his exposed flesh and I can't do it. And mostly I hate the fact that he seems to know more about me than I know about myself. He has given me a convenient outlet for my frustration and I take it. "Then why not turn me in? Why not turn Anders in? Or Merrill? You already think so lowly of them. Why not turn them in? And I've just told you I hear voices, demonic possession in the making, right? Or what's that word you like to use?" I'm being vindictive now and I know it. His hands clench into fists at his sides and I know he is close to snapping at me. "Oh yes," I say, like I've just remembered. "Abomination. So why not turn me in, Fenris?" I sneer. "Why not make the city safer?"
He glares at me, chest heaving in aggravation and shouts, "Because I care about you too much to do it!"
My breath leaves me in a whoosh and I fall back into the chair I sit in and stare at him open mouthed for a few seconds. He avoids my gaze and continues, "And I don't turn Anders or Merrill in because I respect you too much to do it. You should be the one to make that choice. Not me."
My anger vanishes, like water dousing a fire and that horrible feeling of guilt lays over me like a wet blanket and I look away, ashamed. "I'm sorry," I say. "That was completely undeserved. I just…" and I struggle for the word, then sigh. I get up and turn to leave, pausing with a hand on the top of the chair I was sitting in. I can't look at him for fear of what I will see in his face if I do. "I'm scared. I'm scared of the voices, scared of my magic." And I pause, my throat suddenly tight with fear. "But mostly I'm scared that I will become a monster, become like Danarius."
I hear nothing from him and I'm not surprised. If he had any feelings for me I'm sure I just crushed them with this admission. He knows what I can do; he knows better than any what I can become. I'm about to open my mouth to tell him to forget my asking him to join this excursion into the Fade, when strong sinewy arms wrap around my chest and shoulders, pulling my back into him. A breath that I didn't even know I was holding escapes me in a sigh and I melt into him, the top of my head resting against his cheek. I close my eyes, my hands closing around his arms in comfort of his acceptance, the heat of his chest warming my back. What I wouldn't give to stay like this, I think. His lips glide along my ear and my heartbeat picks up.
"You will not be like Danarius," he murmurs in my ear. "Of that I can promise you."
I open my eyes, staring at the open bedroom door. "How can you be so sure? You don't know the things I've done. Or what I am capable of."
"You are more stubborn than anyone I have ever met," he says, and there is laughter in his voice. "If any demon could deal with your tenaciousness I would be shocked."
My lips curl into a smile and I turn my head into him, "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or flattered by that."
I feel him smirk against the side of my temple. "A compliment, I assure you."
He lets me go and I wish he wouldn't. I turn towards him and he has gone over to the chair to put his steel plates on. It seems a shame to cover up something that is so beautiful but then he obviously can't go out fighting without them.
"So, does this mean you're coming with me?" I ask, as I watch him put on his armor.
He frowns down at his breastplate and begins to buckle it in place. "I don't think you should enter the Fade, Hawke." My last name again, he's back to business. "Especially if you have voices that you hear, it will only be asking for trouble."
"I can block them out. I can make them go away," I oppose.
"Not if you are in the Fade. They will find you. They will tempt you," he states. He is not looking at me but I know he isn't happy.
"So what would you have me do, let his soul go to the demons?" I say a little too sarcastically.
He scowls, "I expect you to be practical. It is not smart to be entering the place that will expose you to them."
"But I can't ignore the problem," I cry, exasperated. "I am responsible for putting him with the Dalish and now he is lost in the Fade by my doing. I should help him get out."
"How is this your doing?" he remarks heatedly. "He chose his path, not you."
"I let him," I spout back. "Damn it Fenris, I am going whether you do or not."
"And saving every foolish, idiotic mage you come across will not bring her back!" he shouts.
It is like a knife in my heart and I already feel the tears welling in my eyes. "How dare you," I seethe. "You have no right to bring Bethany into this." He doesn't even look regretful, just immobile, as if waiting for the brunt of my attack. Yes, I've been helping the mages in my off time, but it's what I would have done whether she were around or not. "I know she won't be back," I say, slowly. My voice takes on a death like quality as I deliberately take the time to annunciate every word. "I wake up every day with the knowledge of what I did and it eats at me, Fenris. It eats away at my soul like some sort of parasite. So yeah, I help set mages free. And every time I do I get a small part of my soul back. The part that was stolen from me when she died. When I killed her." I feel hollowed out now, numb and hard to the world.
"It won't help. It won't matter," he states.
It could be the detached way in which he says it but I don't think, I just yell back, "I. Don't. Care!"
Making a noise that is somewhere between a growl and a shout, he turns away from me raising his arms in the air in agitation and yells, "Festis bei umo canavarum
I narrow my eyes at his turned back, "And that means?" I ask indignantly.
He wheels around and glares at me. "Are you trying to get me killed?" he asks.
I stop abruptly, remembering a few days ago when he was yelling at me for an entirely different reason. Should I have just gone alone? "No one is forcing you to go," I say, more resigned.
He raises an eyebrow, challenging me boldly, seeming to get a grasp on the trail of my thoughts. "How else do you expect to get out? I've said my piece but if you still insist on this suicidal adventure then I don't have a choice."
"I am still going." I say, staring back insolently.
"Then I am following."
Just like that the debate is over. He straps his sword on his back and waits. I don't understand this. One second he is shouting at me, the next holding me, then we are back to yelling again. And yet he follows. He still follows even though he doesn't agree with me at all. It makes no sense. Its madness. Intoxicating, blood boiling, addicting, madness.
"Well…" he declares and makes a dramatic motion for me to lead the way.
I glare at him defiantly then walk out. I don't have to turn around to know he is following.
An hour later, I stand in the little home of Feynriel's mother with Fenris, Varric and Anders. I would not have chosen Anders to come for fear of his little accident with Justice becoming worse, but he was with Varric when I asked so the mage gave me little choice. Keeper Marethari has sent the other three away but it is redundant as the home is so small they can hear what she says anyway.
"Hawke, I must prepare you for the consequences of this situation." Her gaze is intense as she tries to convey the gravity of the situation. "The demons cannot be allowed possession of Feynriel. Because of his abilities he could become extremely dangerous. So I ask you, should you fail in rescuing him, you must kill him."
I open my mouth to object but she silences me.
"He will not die should you kill him in the Fade. He will only be made Tranquil."
Small difference, I think. "Is there no chance to save him then, if I fail."
She shakes her head, "You are the only chance."
Fantastic. "I understand. I will do my best."
Anders makes a disgusted sound but I ignore him. We go to lay down in the appointed room for the ritual, but before I can, Fenris grabs my hand.
"Hawke, please, I implore you. Don't do this." I am ready to be angry until I see the expression on his face. His eyes are pleading, concern causing the lines around his eyes to stand out. He is truly worried about me. In fact I've never seen him so anxious. Why is he suddenly so apprehensive? Of all the trials we've faced over the years and not once did he show an ounce of misgiving about anything. He just took it as it came but now he reacts. It's…strange.
I intertwine my fingers with his. "I will be fine. We will be fine." I say, holding our entwined fingers up. But the worry on his face does not dissipate, it worsens.
"Cassie, please." His hand tightens in mine and I am shocked by his use of my first name. He doesn't use my first name around people we don't know, he rarely even uses it when we are with our friends. I falter. "Cassie, I've seen this. Please, you must believe me. I didn't realize it until we entered this room but I've seen this. I've dreamt this place so many nights. Ever since the Deep Roads. This is the place-" and he abruptly silences.
"This is the place?" I prompt him, calmly.
He sighs. "This is the place you die," he says quietly, "this is the place that I kill you."
The blood in my veins turns to ice, and the hand that holds his, drops. "How?" I ask.
He holds up his fist and stares at it with repugnance. "With this."
In my chest, I think. I've had that dream too.
Our conversation is cut off.
"Is there a problem, Hawke?" Anders asks, jealousy clear in the cadence of his voice.
I glance at him and I know I must look ashen. The Keeper comes up to me and searches my features.
"Are you ok, child?" she asks.
I nod my head, although that is far from the truth in any sense.
She seems unconvinced but nods nevertheless. "Good, then we must get started. I feel his soul weakening."
"Keeper, I have one question. Should I die in the Fade what will that do to me?"
Her eyes bore into mine and she says, "Nothing other than experiencing the pain of death. However, the fight for survival will begin once the demons take control."
It eases my anxiety and I look over at Fenris. "See, it will be alright. We can't die in the Fade."
The concern in his face does not lessen but he no longer stands in my way.
…
One moment I am laying on the wooden floor and the next I stand in some grand hall that I don't recognize. Fenris, Varric and Anders are all with me, although Anders is no longer the Anders I know. Justice travels in his place commenting about how he never thought he would return to the Fade in such a way. If only there were a way to keep you here, I think.
Shaking my head in discomfort, I can't seem to dislodge this strange feeling of belonging, although the resentment here is so thick that I feel I am coated with it, like slick viscous oil that cannot be washed away. Focusing is not coming easy, although I don't hear voices; the emotions running through this place are enough to make me sick.
"Are you alright, Hawke?" Fenris' hand touches my elbow. Instantly my skin ignites, my entire body coming alive as the lyrium from his brands is pulled into me. It's like taking a shot of my favorite liquor, reveling in the burn it creates going down my throat. Too fast, it's too fast.
"Sweet Andraste," I say, but the words come out as a growl until the elf is jerked away from me by Varric. I am panting heavily and Fenris is on his knees. "What in the Void just happened?" I ask.
Fenris shakes his head, still trying to catch his breath.
"Right," grumbles Varric, "You," he says pointing at the elf. "Don't touch her. And you," he says pointing a finger at me, "Try and contain yourself."
Like I meant for that to happen. "It wasn't on purpose," I mutter.
Anders stares at us for a few moments until he speaks and I am reminded that Justice is driving. "You're a mage," his deep voice rumbles. "And you have deprived your body of its most needed resource." Justice's disdain and revulsion of my actions is easily heard. "You're starving it. So it will fine any means necessary to survive. Especially in the Fade. No matter how much you might want to stamp it out it will not go away. If the Rite of Tranquility didn't do it, nothing will," the spirit says snidely. "Welcome home, Hawke."
I glare at Justice. "I don't deny what I am."
The spirit in Anders body shifts on stolen feet, and switches his staff from one hand to the other. "No, you ignore it," he derides. "The one person who has the power to change the course of history and free mages from their bonds and you are too much of a coward to do it," he says.
"I am not a coward," I hiss. But the comment hits a nerve. Justice sees me for what I am. A hypocrite dressed in the clothes of justice.
I turn away from him, unable to bear the accusation in his demeanor any longer. I don't get three steps before something powerful touches my mind. My eyes close and my steps waver as I feel it dig into my thoughts, searching for something. The cool marble of the column braces me and when I open my eyes, I see the courtyard below me and the demon standing there, waiting.
I take a few more steps before staggering into the railing that protects me from falling. A powerful thrust in my head causes me to cry out. It digs its claws in deeper, delving further until I feel my mind is being ripped apart.
Get out, I think.
Somewhere behind me Fenris' voice sounds, shouting my name but it seems displaced, apart from reality.
You think you can win, a voice mocks in my head. You think you can save him? An evil chuckle erupts in my mind. The dreamer is mine. You will fail, just as you have failed so many others, just as you have failed your sister. You will fail because you fear. You will fail because you are unwilling to do what must be done. But mostly, you will fail because fate has deemed it so. Crouching, I cover my hands over my ears and scream and still I hear it laughing at me. You cannot fight what is meant to be. With that, a sharp force rakes my mind, driving further until it finds what it is looking for and the pain vanishes just before the blessed relief of unconsciousness takes me.
…
I wake on the beach to the sound of my sister's voice calling to me. I raise my head off the sand, blearily looking around in the bright sunlight. About a hundred feet away sits Bethany, calling out my name with a hand raised up to shield her eyes from the sun.
"I can't believe you fell asleep," she says loudly after seeing me awake.
I look at her confused. "What?" I slur. "I wasn't sleeping, I just…" and I pause not being able to remember where I just was or what I was doing. I shake my head and get to my hands and knees, sitting back on my heels. I brush the sand off my face and look around. "Where are we?" I ask, trying to get my bearings.
She laughs, "You must have drunk more than I thought."
I slowly get up, feeling unsteady on my feet and stare at her bewildered. "I didn't drink I…"I close my eyes as something stabs through my temple and I shake my head again. What in the world is wrong with me? My head begins to throb and I rub my eyes. Maybe I did drink too much, I feel like I have the worst hangover ever. I open my eyes and start stumbling towards my sister. Yes I definitely indulged in something too much. "For the sake of argument, what happened?"
Her lips quirk in their characteristic smile and she answers, "Isabela challenged you to a drinking contest which you obviously lost."
I frown, and try to remember but it all seems blank. "Isabela?" I look around. "And we did it here?" I ask incredulously.
Something strange flickers behind Bethany's eyes before she replies, "Well, where else? You wanted to come to the beach so we came to the beach."
Squinting, I look up at the sun and see it's about midday. There is no way I would suggest something like this in the morning. The time, the drinking, the beach, none of it adds up. Frowning again, I ask, "Did Fenris and Aveline and all the others come too?"
My sister gives me a wry kind of smile. "When does Aveline ever come?"
True. "What about Fenris?"
Her face distorts harshly before quickly turning back to normal. What the fuck? Agony lances through my head and I groan, falling to my knees on the ground. This isn't right. This is all wrong. What is wrong with me? The pain digs deeper, claws tearing through my mind until I am on all fours, panting. Memories flash before my eyes, like flipping through a picture book and somehow I know this isn't real.
"Who are you?" I growl as reality sets in. "You are not my sister. My sister is dead."
Her smile becomes malicious and looks completely unnatural on her features. Then with a fluid like grace that she never possessed, she lunges at me, knocking me onto my back, her hands pinning my shoulders into the sand. Her hair falls to either side of her face, giving her demeanor a sinister look, her eyes change, the irises turning black then spilling like oil to swallow the entire eye whole.
"Who are you Dreamkeeper?" she mocks, but the voice is no longer hers. "I feel your magic like fire on my skin. Sooo powerful," she drawls, bending over and inhaling me deeply like one would savor a delicious meal. "We could do much together you and I. Rip the veil and see."
Rip the veil? "No," I snarl and gather all my strength to push her away. A massive force bursts out of my core in a wave of invisible power that throws her off me. The scenery changes then, melting away, and I find myself sitting on the cobblestone courtyard in the Fade with the sloth demon a few feet from my grasp.
Disoriented, I backpedal on hands and feet when an explosion of ice flies past me to smack the demon in the chest. Its gaze flicks to the mage behind me and makes and inarticulate sound. A war cry tears the air as Fenris sprints past me, sword wielded in his two handed grip. The demons stance becomes defensive when the elf slashes in a flurry of strikes that should not be possible with such a large blade. Three arrows successively sink into the black flesh of its chest, blood oozing from every orifice in large quantities. Its eyes meet mine for only a fraction of a second and it whispers in my head,
This is only the beginning-
Fenris decapitates the demon a moment after and I'll never know if there was meant to be anything more at the end of that thought. He wheels on me in fury, blade dropping before he falls on me, the weight of his body pinning mine to the ground. Startled by this turn of events, I struggle under him, confused and more than a little frightened at his actions. His brands light up, giving his skin and mine and eerie glow. His hand slowly rises up in preparation to strike, his face contorting in an unknown pain as his eyes stare into mine from inches away. His breathing is labored, his features striking even now in their ferocity and determination from this proximity, but anxiety fills me on being on the receiving end of such a look.
Oh Maker. "Fenris…" I say through a closed throat, fear slicing through me at what he must intend to do. Something shifts behind his eyes but he does not move. "Fenris, please, what are you doing?" Alarm seeps through in my voice and I know he hears it. "Fenris, don't kill me, please don't do this," I whimper. His gaze hardens; I panic and begin to thrash under him. His forearm slams into my chest jamming me back into the ground, my head cracks against it making my vision blur. His face is now so close to mine that I feel his warm breath on my skin. "What are you doing?" my voice cracks in terror and I struggle futilely underneath him again. "Anders! Varric! Don't let him do this!" I scream.
Both of them stand off to one side staring at me sadly. Am I still possessed? Is the demon now Fenris? Am I hallucinating again?
My skin prickles, coming alive with the burning lines of fire that travel up my veins into the core of my body. Fenris inhales sharply and his expression turns murderous.
"You will not take lyrium from me demon," he spits.
His fist plunges downwards. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold my breath against the coming pain that I am sure will be horrific. A wordless scream rents the air next to my ear, making my ears ring, followed by his quiet sobs.
"I can't," he whispers in my ear. "Oh Maker forgive me, I can't do it."
I grab both sides of his face, seeing the swell of tears in his eyes that make my heart soar. Misery is etched over his entire face and I want so badly to kiss it away. He couldn't kill me; he cared about me so much that he couldn't do it.
"So take it back," I whisper back at him, "take back what I have stolen."
The anguish in his expression lightens with the spark of hope. I press my lips to his forehead, relishing the feel of the lyrium rushing out of my body and back into him. A sound that resembles a sob and a laugh leaves him as he pulls it all back into himself taking part of me with it. His breath hisses inward and his eyes roll up into his head as he closes his eyes. Our bodies press together and I gently pull back the little that is mine.
"Oh Maker," he mumbles next to my ear, his breath coming in a gasp.
"So, when are the clothes coming off?" Varric asks, his voice threaded with amusement.
"They aren't," I say with a laugh, as Fenris gets up, gazing down at me with a look I cannot describe. His hand reaches down to help me up and the moment our skin touches again the lyrium tries to equalize itself. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.
"Riiight," Varric cajoles, "Should I let you two have some privacy? Take Justice off somewhere before his body has a fit."
Standing shakily, I glance over at the spirit who has possession of my friend and wonder how Anders would be reacting right now if he was in the driver's seat. The mage's body ripples with a shiver and then his eyes lock with mine, hard and unfeeling.
"Now that we have determined the demon is truly gone we must move on. Feynriels's spirit falters and Anders' isn't much better," Justice says, bitterly. Well, now I know Anders isn't happy.
"So, I take it she's not possessed?" Varric asks.
Fenris shakes his head no and Justice makes a disgruntled sound. A sharp pain stabs at my head, like a stake being pounded into my skull. I sway on my feet ready to drop when Fenris' hand grabs my arm and instantly the pain subsides as the lyrium makes its way into my body. I shake my head to clear the dizziness and the memory of the pain.
"They're attacking you?" he asks.
Looking over at him my eyes widen in recognition of what is happening.
"Yes. But when you touched me they were…pushed out," I reply, frowning. "Odd that it should work that way."
He grunts but says little else and we head to the first door we can find.
…
The vision around us fades away revealing the desire demon that was Feynriel's father. I pull out my daggers to ready the fight when the demon's head tilts to the side curiously, a hand running absentmindedly over its breast.
"I know you," it says seductively. "Your blood sings with recognition. You're spirit has been here before."
Justice snaps, "All mages are tied to the Fade, of course you would have felt her before."
The demon turns her head to give him a withering look. "Stop speaking you pathetic excuse for a spirit. Her blood sings because her soul knows this place though her mind may not. She is pulled to it much like I am, you imbecile. Now, can you guess what I mean?" she mocks.
Justice says nothing, frowning.
"I'm just a mage, nothing else." I exclaim.
"Dreamer," it purrs. "You run but you can't hide forever. Eventually we will find you. Eventually you will fall."
Visions of desires held long in check assault my mind in an endless series of possibilities and I stagger on my feet as if I've been pushed. A voice moans in pleasure.
"So many desires," it says in a sultry voice, "so many that circle around…him." The demon points a clawed hand at Fenris and laughs.
I groan and curl in on myself when the flashes grow worse. Fenris sleeping in my lap when I read to him, holding me in his arms, pinning me into the ground, kissing my forehead. There are so many to choose from, a voice whispers in my head, and I can give you so much more. Then they progress to the elf storming into my house and asking me to end his agony and be with him. A lyrium branded body thrusting into mine again and again until we are both screaming our pleasure to the sky.
"Stop," I mumble.
Handfasting, children, a place in the middle of nowhere to call our own, they come faster and faster until I am both crying in pain and laughing at the ridiculousness because most of these will never come to pass. Anger swells with a deep burn in my chest with each cascading image of pleasure and happiness that I will most likely never live to see. My vision clears until I see the demon in front of me, close in front of me, smiling with a hand held up waiting for mine to enfold it. If I take that hand the possession will be complete and I'll live a life of a lie although it will be a happy one and my body will become a husk for her to fill. She beckons me closer, with whispers of seduction like poison on her lips. Hatred fuels my body until I feel like I might burst with the rage. I control my destiny, no one else. Magic bursts forth when I am within arm's reach and her smile falters then falls completely, fear taking its place.
"Mother of Dreams," she mumbles, staring at me horrified. "I didn't mean…" she stutters, backing up, "Oh no."
She turns to run, but it is too late. The blade is planted through her back in-between the ribs and into the heart seemingly of its own accord. Vaguely I know I am responsibly but the how doesn't seem to want to come together. The desire demon falls with a wail and vanishes into mist.
"What did you just do, Hawke? I've never seen you look so…" and words seem to fail the dwarf.
I fall to my knees utterly drained, cursing Feynriel for being a mage, and myself for wanting to help him. Justice/Anders stares at me, like he's never seen me before, as if I am some sort of freak. But I can't even muster the strength to say something back. Mother of Dreams the demon called me and my heart begins to pound hard in my chest, echoing in my ears. What does that even mean? My mind feels like it has been torn to shreds already and I am far from done. My only desire now is to curl up in my favorite chair with a blanket and a fire burning and try to forget everything that has happened on this excursion. I yearn desperately for something that will never happen, peace and quiet to lead my own life. Living happily ever after, what a stupid dream. After four years I am no closer to that happy ending and have lost so much more in the progress. What exactly am I fighting for?
Yes…my mind whispers…why fight the inevitable.
My eyes close in exhaustion and I sit back on my heels. Yes, why fight? It would be so easy to let go, not care anymore. I am always at everyone's beck and call. Mercenary for hire…yeah right, more like work whore for hire. I get to do all the jobs that no one else wants to do and get paid little to nothing for it. When did I become the one that would save the city? So I can end up like the Hero of Fereldan, dead and revered? But what did it get her? Nothing, other than an early grave. I don't want to end up like that. No family, no children, no one to cherish my life with; I can't lead a life so…empty.
A hand caresses my chin and an invisible tether to something malevolent snaps. I gasp and my eyes snap open. The touch to my mind was so delicate that I hadn't even realized what was happening; a demon manipulating my thoughts. The thought scares me more than I can say. I have always thought it would be like mind rape but this was something completely different, more like the power of suggestion. The grip on my chin tightens forcing me to raise my face up to meet his but I already know the holder. Fenris stands above me pulling my face up so our eyes meet. His expression is so fraught with distress that I stare at him bewildered.
"Don't leave me," he says, coming down to my level. His hands brush up either side of my jaw until it feels like a current of electricity is running rampant in my skin. "Please, stay with me."
My heart skips a beat as I stare up at him, mystified by how we exactly we have gotten here. How he has come to care about me even though we disagree over almost everything, even though he hates mages and all that they represent. It seems almost impossible, doomed for failure before it even begins. How would this possibly ever work?
"I'm not going anywhere," I say, sheepishly.
His eyes grow concerned, "You started to fade, become one with this place."
My face falls as that icy shot of fear goes through me again but then I grab his hands, feeling stable and hopeful. "And I have you to pull me back," I say and smirk, although I know it doesn't reach my eyes.
We both stand together, our hands joining for a moment before letting go. I place my daggers over my back and head out the door, the others following behind me. There is still a demon here; I can feel it in the core of my being. We aren't done yet.
…
The next vision falls but not before the demon was able to confuse Feynriel enough that he runs away in terror, his mind breaking under the stress. The pride demon's hold has been broken but unless we kill it the freedom will only be temporary.
A faint tickling begins in the back of my mind, tiny and insignificant at first but when I go to act something tries to push to the forefront of my consciousness and I end up staggering in confusion. The creature growls in frustration until its eyes find another source.
"You do not seek recognition or power and yet you have both in large quantities. The Maker's sense of humor is astounding," the creature says. It is the first time I have ever heard a demon refer to the Maker. Perhaps even demons believe in a greater power yet strive to subvert it. Its gaze shifts until it lands on the elf. "But do you think this slave would choose you over his freedom?"
"Cast your eyes elsewhere demon. I won my freedom from the magisters long ago."
"But you fear them still. They left their marks on your body, on your mind, with my aid you could be free forever. You could have power enough to challenge any who would change you."
He looks at me then back at the demon. Panic so thick it racks my body sets in when his hesitation becomes apparent. The words tumble out of my mouth in a desperate plea, "Fenris, don't listen to it. Please, I need you. I would never let anyone change you again."
He looks over at me completely torn. "But to have enough power to challenge Danarius?" he whispers deep in thought. "I could end this now without risking you, keep you safe."
"I will never be safe. It's all a lie, can't you see that? Don't let your hatred blind you," I implore.
He turns to me and I know without him having to say a thing that this battle is already lost. "Sometimes my hatred is all that keeps me going." His sword tip touches the ground and his body relaxes as he looks back at the demon. "What would you need from me?" he asks.
Betrayal sharp and sure pierces through my chest so hard that I think I will look down and see his sword impaling me already.
"Just a moment of your time," the demon replies with something that resembles a smile.
Fenris turns to me and for a moment hope surges, but the vacant look in his eyes is a stab through the heart again as he comes towards me, sword raised high.
No.
His blade swings almost faster than I can keep track of and I somehow avoid the first two strikes but the third cuts across my chest. I groan as the warm liquid soaks my clothes dark red in seconds. Something unknown flickers behind his eyes, so quick I am not sure I saw it at all. The demon shrieks with glee and I hear it say, "Dream Keeper."
"Fenris, please, stop. I will not fight you."
He does not respond but his blade swings again and I get my dagger out just in time to deflect the blow, crying out when I twist my body. Three bolts strike into Fenris' shoulder, throwing him into the ground. I turn to see Varric and Anders both fighting off abominations that have risen out of nowhere. They are quickly overwhelmed and I know I will be getting no more help from them. The only time I get is enough to down a healing potion before the elf is on me again. I turn aside his next two attacks, grimacing with the wound that is not completely healed when he lunges, taking me completely by surprise. Collapsing, I take the full brunt of his weight and mine when I smack into the ground. The breath whooshes out of me and I gasp helplessly like a fish out of water as the air refuses to enter my lungs and a horrible choking sound emerges from my throat. Adrenaline surges in my veins as I panic for the air that will not come. A laugh comes from above me, his sword forgotten at his side. His brands flare to life and I can see my end in them. His arm plunges into my chest and agony unlike any I have never known erupts over me and it feels like I and being burned alive.
Submit, a voice whispers in my head.
My brain forms the only response I can think of. Screw You.
Submit Dream Keeper.
Something within me begins to rise up in challenge. A feeling I recognize in my times of great stress. A feeling I've experienced only a handful of times. First when we fled the Blight. Then when Bethany died in my arms. And now. Something foreign and yet not, screams its fury at the demon. No!
Fenris' fist twists and if I had the air to scream I would have.
Submit, the voice demands.
A resounding crack echoes deep within me as something long bottled up pours forth. Images of memories I have never known assault my mind.
I hide in a closet, making myself as small as possible in hopes that maybe they won't notice me, while voices argue outside my door.
"Do you even hear yourself!" my mother cries. "You are going to make our child Tranquil, make her a husk of a human being. I'd rather she be dead than be walking around like a ghoul!" she shouts.
Cringing in fear, I whimper, quiet moans emerging from my lips.
"We have to Leandra or she will tear this world apart."
"That is a lie. Whatever it is that creature told you was a lie." she says, repulsed.
"Leandra, our daughter is already gone. Can't you see that? This is the only way." he replies sorrowfully.
"Malcolm please. She's little, she doesn't understand. Try and teach her."
The voice comes hollow and resolute, "No she doesn't understand and now it is too late. She will never be ready. The world is not ready. If they try to break her she will destroy them all".
"Maker damn you. I will never forgive you for this."
The door thrusts open, light pours in and I scream.
My soul cries out as magic that has been blocked up for so long floods from my core to my fingertips in a gush of power I can't control, it bursts in an outward wave throwing everyone and everything back to the furthest reaches of the room. Pure energy sings through me and I open my eyes and gasp. Rage recoils and explodes burning alive every abomination in the room in a great inferno of power.
As my vision slowly begins to clear I look around the room for my companions. Varric is cursing colorfully, slow to get to his feet and Anders/Justice leans feebly against the wall scowling at me. My eyes search frantically for the last to find his huddled form thrown against the far wall. Without thinking I get to my feet and run to him, barely staying upright along the way. My world sways and I almost collapse when I reach him. My body feels empty and exhausted like I've just fought a month long battle with no break. I fall to my knees beside him and turn him over. When my hand touches his skin the brands flare then quickly go out. My breath catches and I look him over. He seems whole and untouched, though unconscious.
Justice walks to my side and Varric comes up behind me. "Hawke he must be killed. He is possessed by the demon," the spirit says.
"No," I growl, not bothering to look at the disapproval that I know is written on his stolen face. "The demon is gone. Fenris will be fine."
"How do you know? Did you kill it? Did you see it die?"
I scowl and say nothing. There is truth to his words however loath I am to see it. He won't die, not really, just go back to reality. I must convince myself of this but I know that while my head may understand what is happening my heart does not.
I pull the knife from my boot, watching the unconscious elf as I do. His face looks so peaceful and young with the pain and hatred of his past washed from his features. You can do this, I tell myself, he will not die just go back. He will not die. He will not die! I harden my resolve and raise up the dagger, my eyes following the action. He will not die.
I look back down and see Bethany looking placidly back up at me. Dropping the blade I back pedal fast, screaming in terror as my vision blurs with the sudden tears that have sprung in my eyes. She's not there, she's not there, she's not there, repeats like a mantra in my head. My little sister, staring at me with her dull lifeless eyes. I rock back and forth hiding my face as tremors of an intense pain that I had forgotten strike my heart. She's dead and you killed her, a voice says. Will you now kill the only other person you have ever managed to love? I shake my head rapidly back and forth, beginning to hyperventilate.
Hands grasp mine, pulling them harshly away from my eyes, and I see her staring down at me through the veil of my tears. Will you kill him, like you killed me, her voice says in my mind. A wail rents the air.
A loud crack accompanied with a blinding pain on the side of my face clears my vision. Varric stands in front of me, holding my hands back, calling my name as if he has been saying it over and over again for quite some time. My eyes lock with his and my body begins to shake as I realize everything I've just experienced wasn't real. I try and steady my breathing but it doesn't seem to work as the pain of my sister's death rips my heart in two again. I can't do this, I can't keep doing this.
"Hawke," Varric says calmly as he still holds my now unresisting wrists. "It's going to be ok. Everything is going to be alright."
A bitter laugh escapes me through the quiet sobs and I look over at the still prone form of Fenris as I tell the dwarf, "I'm beginning to wonder if it will ever be alright, Varric. I am not as optimistic as Bethany always was." Pain stabs through my side making my breath come out in a shudder.
Justice steps into my field of vision, blocking my view of the elf. "We need to leave. The fabric of this reality is tearing along with the dreamers mind. I fear there is little else we can do." Varric is frowning at the comment as he still looks at me, eventually sighing and says, "Blondie and I will take care of…" and he trails off and sighs, "you take care of Feynriel." I nod numbly and get up, glancing at the elf one last time. His eyes snap open and he gains his feet as the three of us grab our weapons.
"Hawke! GO!" shouts Varric, "Get out of here! Save Feynriel!"
I hesitate and stare at the two of them as Varric shoots of a volley of arrows that Fenris somehow dodges and deflects. The dwarf curses and screams, "Hawke, GO!"
Backpedalling, I turn and sprint from the room, with the sounds of battle ringing in my ears.
I find him, the half elf that has become the plague of my existence in the main courtyard. He paces and rants to himself, talking and answering, sounding half out of his mind.
"Feynriel?" I say hesitantly.
He whirls on me in shock only now having noticed me.
"Voices…so many voices…" he shakes his head and begins to pace again. "They whisper things to me. The dreamer is near, they say. Find the dreamer. Twist the spirit. Tear the veil" his voice is half mad, ranting like a lunatic. "We will come, we will come. Can't hide now, can't hide."
Oh Maker he really is mad. I look over my shoulder quickly then back at him. "Feynriel, it's ok. You can break free. I know you can. The demons are gone. Break free of the Fade." My voice comes out panicked as I look again to find no one is there.
He is shaking his head side to side so fast that I worry he might snap his neck. Frustration makes me grab him, framing his face between my hands as his eyes dart from side to side and then they focus on something behind me and he inhales sharply. I let go and turn to see Fenris staring at the pair of us.
The half elf wails, sounding like a strangled cat, holding his ears and curling into a ball. "Make them stop. Make them stop. Make them stop," he pleads, rocking back and forth. Then a scream rips from his throat.
There is no saving him.
My stomach twists with the knowledge that I just killed both of my companions with my unwillingness to end Fenris' life when I could have. What have I done?
Feynriel laughs high pitched and maniacal as the elf with dead eyes stalks forward, blade drawn. I pull out my daggers and raise them defensively. There must be a way to break the demons hold on him. Somehow I must get through to him.
"You have to fight it, Fenris. Please, I don't want to hurt you."
His lips curl into a feral grin. "Don't want to hurt me?" he mocks. "You have done all of the hurting you will ever do." His eyes harden and he lunges. I barely dodge the blade that pierces the air next to my side and elbow him in the face. The follow through of my blade misses its mark as he spins away wiping the blood from his mouth.
"Use your magic, you leach!" he screams. "I did not endure years of your torture to have you go soft on me now. You will pay for what you have done to me."
The comment catches me off guard and for just a moment my daggers drop. In a quickness born of fury he is on me, swiping my useless daggers to the side as we collide to the ground. He pins me to the ground and the look of pure vile hatred paralyzes me.
"Danarius," he spits, venomously. I have a moment of terror and then his brands light up, his fist enters my chest and all I know is pain.
…
Someone is shrieking, a hideously death like sound, until I realize that person is me and it cuts off to a pain filled groan. I open my eyes to a sideway view of the world, curled in a ball on the floor. The planks of wood creak under someone's feet but I am too haunted by the phantom hand that pulled out my heart to notice. My chest throbs and heaves and it is in that moment I feel the tears running down my face. I've failed again. Feynriel is now a husk for a demon all because of my stupid heart. Love can be our greatest strength but also our greatest weakness. My father used to say that to me and I never understood it until now. I swore I would never let an outsider get that close to me, losing almost every member of my family had driven home that fact, but now, lying here I realize that somehow I let it happen again. I let someone in. The wrong someone.
I curl in tighter on myself, wanting to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. A hand pushes back the curtain of my hair that covers my sight from above. Anders kneels above me, or at least I know it must be him because Justice would never touch me in such a fashion, carefully, tenderly. Our gazes meet and he lets out a breath in sadness.
"Feynriel is lost, then?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
I look away, misery setting in like a dull blistering burn I will never heal from. His hand pulls away but he stays there kneeling by my side.
"Fenris," he says, although I know he is asking for my confirmation, he states it like a fact.
Fenris betrayed me. He actually betrayed me for power. Of all the remarks he has made over the years about power corrupting and turning mages to blood magic and at the first temptation of power he betrays me. My misery of my failure fuels my rage. How- after everything we've done together over the last week-could he do this to me. How could he cast what has happened between us aside like garbage? Don't leave me, his voice says in my mind. Please stay with me. Then my mind fights against my heart bringing up images of his lips pressed to my forehead as he cradles me in the elevator. Whispering what have you done to me in my ear with such emotion and longing in his voice that it shocks me. Reading the book to him only to find him asleep in my lap. That was the moment I…
Screaming the aggravation that I will not give voice to does nothing to placate the wrath that now boils inside me like venom. I thought I felt something more, something like… My mind can't even think the word; he does not deserve such emotion from me. Deception, betrayal, I should have known from the beginning what he would do. He is my greatest weakness and will continue to be until I can cut him out.
"Yes." I say, answering Anders question as something in my chest twists with the word. It is then I see the shadow looming at my side. Carefully I get up and come face to face with Fenris. "Feynriel?" I ask, but at this point the answer is obvious.
He looks away ashamed and shakes his head.
I get to my feet slowly, ignoring the looming shadows of my companions as they watch our exchange. "I hope your betrayal was worth the price," I remark snidely.
"Hawke, I-"
"No," I growl and point a finger in his chest. "You do not get to apologize." I push him, though he barely moves, and get right in his face. "Because for all of your pretentious, judgmental remarks about mages it turns out you are no different than anyone else." A bitter laugh escapes my mouth and I look away, "And now I know where your loyalties lie," I say, wanting revenge for the pain that throbs like a second heart beat in my chest. I want him to hurt. "Turns out my first assumption of you was correct after all. As soon as we deal with Danarius you'll leave. Good to know I'm just a means to an end." And I turn to walk away.
He grabs my arm and jerks me back around, anger at my words showing on his face, in his voice. "How can you think that? You think I stick around just because I like to be an easy target, because that's what I am by staying here," he shouts at me.
Varric's and Anders' grumbling reaches my ears and I am reminded that we have an audience. A rather large one at that.
"If you don't like being a sitting duck then leave!" I yell. "No one is asking you to stay." I regret the words as soon as they are out of my mouth because the truth is I don't want him to leave but I can't ignore the fact that he betrayed me. The one person I hoped would follow me to the ends of the earth, betrayed me. The truth hurts like a thorn twisting in my side as I feel the traitorous tears welling in my eyes. I won't let him see me cry, I won't.
His face is impassive when he says quietly, "If you want me to leave, I will. You need never see me again."
My breath catches and I hesitate. He stares at me, his expression unreadable, willing to do whatever I tell him. I don't know if I could bear not seeing him again, yet if he stays I will always wonder if he is just waiting to stick the knife in my back again. He waits, the intensity in his stare striking me cold and I know I've left him little choice, he has nothing left to win and nothing left to lose. The first tear falls and I hate myself for it. He notices and watches it trail down my cheek. I brush it away angrily and glare at him.
"You betrayed me," I hiss. "You chose the offer of a demon over me. You had to know what it would cost. You yourself said you saw it ending with your fist in my chest. How…" and I struggle against the trembling that is threatening to take over my body. "How could you?"
More tears fall, slowly trickling down my face, one after another. His eyes close and his head tilts down towards his feet. It is only a moment before they rise again and something in them has hardened. "I told you what would happen and you went anyway, you risked yourself anyway. I refuse to be held accountable for choices you forced me into."
I stare at him flabbergasted. Did he really just say that? Did he really just turn this around to be my fault? I can't take it. I can't take it anymore. This constant filling up and wringing out of my emotions. He'll kill me. This has to end…now. My jaw clenches and I shake my head and turn around to go to the door. I am sure rumors of my supposed love life will be flying. There sure are enough people here to witness its demise. My hand tightens around the doorframe, the cool autumn air drying the tears on my cheeks. "I can't look at you anymore, Fenris." I pause and stare at the storm clouds that loom in the darkening sky, "I can't bear its price." And somehow I manage to walk out.
PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL