Chapter 11

Riding alongside a maleficar. That was something Fenris thought he'd never do. But here he was. And technically Hawke was now a maleficar- a blood mage. He had gotten new robes from a trader on the road and they seemed to complement his dark decision. They were rough and dark with billowing fabric that seemed to add to Hawke's grandeur. The grey feathered collar distastefully reminded Fenris of Anders. While a gnawing worry sat in Fenris' stomach, Hawke did not seem to be phased at all. His expression was content though Fenris noticed something in Hawke's eyes. They were hard and determined. He even thought he saw a wrinkle or two under Hawke's eyes, which wasn't surprising considering Hawke was entering his thirties and had been under a lot of stress in the last few years. He was eerily quiet during the ride, and Fenris was unsure whether he wanted to talk or not, especially with the demon listening in. Instead, they rode in silence.

It took a few days to get back the fortress. Hawke spoke little on the way, but his lack of conversation was for a different reason now. He was reluctant to say anything while under the possible sway of a demon. When they finally could see the fortress up ahead, the sun was setting, casting orange light over the grey stone. They made camp on an overlook that looked down onto the rugged land where the fort was situated. Fenris set up camp while Hawke sat near the edge of the precipice, gazing at the fort below. It wasn't like Hawke to contemplate, though it had been some months since Fenris had been around Hawke. A lot could have happened in that time, and Fenris knew that it likely had. He also knew that the events in Fort Dival probably had a painfully scarring effect on Hawke. Fenris looked down at his tattoos, and recalled the pain he had endured when he received them. Hawke had gone through that pain, though on a smaller scale. Not to mention the beatings and the whippings and the fact that Hawke had a demon floating around in his head. Fenris looked back up, and panicked when he realised that Hawke was nowhere to be seen. Only a second ago he had been sitting at the cliff. Now, he was nowhere in sight. Fenris ran over to the cliff and peered down. On closer inspection he saw that the cliff was in fact a slope, and Fenris could see the signs on this slope where Hawke had slid down. He looked down into the forest below and caught the last glimpse of Hawke's cloak as he darted into the trees.

"Hawke!" Fenris shouted down, though there was no reply. Fenris knew what Hawke was doing. He was going to Fort Dival, and he was going alone.

Hawke was struggling. He had thought he could keep the desire demon's will at bay, but it was proving to be difficult. The plan had seemed good at first. Dreamweaver's added power would ensure he saved Anders, and then it was as simple as getting Anders' presence into the Fade to kick Dreamweaver out. But things were never as simple as that. Even now, Dreamweaver's desires were forcing him towards to fortress, against his will. Hawke fell forward onto the ground, as he fought against the demon's control.

"I am in charge here!" he said aloud. Of course there was no reply, but a strengthened response from Dreamweaver proved that he had heard. Was this what Anders felt like when Justice was in control, Hawke thought? Did he feel this helpless? Hawke gritted his teeth as Dreamweaver vied for control of his body again. He was regretting ever getting mixed up with demons. Hawke rose to his feet, and felt a little strange. Dreamweaver had given control of himself back, but he still didn't feel quite altogether. He controlled what he did, but he was compelled to follow silent orders that he would rather not accept. And so he continued on to the fortress.

Hawke was crouching outside the entrance to the immense building. It brilliant orange sunset had been obscured with angry grey clouds that promised rain later on. The fortress was uninviting and depressing. Made of varying shades of grey stone, the builders obviously were not thinking of aesthetic appeal when they built it. It was tall and solid, and black birds circled round its highest points. Two Templars stood on guard at the gates. Hawke readied his staff, planning to take them out with a few quick bolts. But as he grabbed the staff on his back, he felt Dreamweaver fight for the reins again.

Use blood magic.

The whisper had sounded like it was right in his ear, but no one was anywhere near Hawke. He shook the whispers away. Blood magic had done enough damage as it was. While it had served its purpose back in Kirkwall, Hawke was reluctant to use it now. He knew one wrong step could lead to him becoming an abomination. He ignored Dreamweaver and continued to unsheathe his staff. Suddenly, the lyrium tattoos on his arm flared. Hawke held back a muffled cry of pain as the burning sensation returned. The lyrium in his arm was reacting to the desire demon's efforts. And to his dismay, he realised that the red lyrium was fuelling Dreamweaver's control. His hand reached down to the knife tucked into his belt. Hawke fought the motion, but the more he struggled, the brighter the lyrium glowed, and the stronger Dreamweaver's control became. He raised the knife up and brought it down across his wrist in one smooth motion, sending rivers of blood running down his arm. He felt the familiar surge of power as he tapped into his blood magic. Like how the scent of blood excites a pack of wolves, the rush of power from his blood seemed to send the demon into a frenzy. A frenzy that Hawke was powerless to control. But he would not stop fighting, not for a second. It was true he wanted these Templars dead, but he wanted them dead at his hand, not the demon's. But Dreamweaver was too empowered now to fight against. Hawke raised his hand, and using his blood powers took control of the Templar on the left. Hawke felt himself control the Templar, and ordered him to attack his comrade. The Templar drew his sword and swung at his companion. The other Templar was taken off guard, and his possessed friend quickly killed him before turning the sword on himself. Hawke watched in horror as the guard took his own life. He had used blood magic a lot in Kirkwall, but he never touched people's minds. That was something he vowed never to do. But now he was just a bystander in his own body as Dreamweaver had his fun. He screamed out in anguish as he tried to tear away from the demon.

Hawke, I want this to be fun for both of us.

The whisper was back, and it seemed to have more power. Hawke struggled as much as he could but the demon was stronger. But Hawke would not let it possess him, not while he drew breath. But the events of the past few days proved to be too much. He was weakened both physically and mentally. Hawke panicked as his felt himself loose control of his own body- as he slipped into Fade, and as Dreamweaker filled the body that was once his.