Knight's Bloom

by R2s Muse

Disclaimer: Dragon Age, its characters and in particular, the verses from the Chant of Light, belong to Bioware. I'm just borrowing and enjoying putting words into their mouths.

A/N: Hawke and Co. proceed with their planned assault while Cullen grapples with the fallout from their fight.

Chapter 21: Best Laid Plans

Cullen had felt unsettled all day and wondered if it was because of his encounter with Marian the day before. The last week and a half without her had been difficult and they didn't seem to be coming any closer to a resolution. Every time he saw her she seemed a little more withdrawn and now she could barely look him in the eye. He had no idea what to do at this point. He'd been hopeful that she had come to the Gallows to talk, but she had instead seemed anxious to leave. Leon said that he had talked with her briefly but mostly about the Seeker.

The Seeker was a continuing mystery to him. Their only interactions had been perfectly cordial, if uninformative of the man's true purpose in Kirkwall. Cullen still couldn't tell what kind of threat he posed, if any at all, truth be told. Except for seeming to shadow Marian's steps, Frollo had done very little to raise suspicion. He had kept to himself since his arrival but always seemed to be in the background, watching.

Nevertheless, Cullen had asked Leon to discretely keep an eye on him. Leon had added a guard to the tower where the Seeker was quartered, ostensibly for the protection of their honored guest but also to watch and report. So far they'd heard nothing out of the ordinary.

As he walked into his office, he saw that someone was waiting for him. Tilda. He checked himself at the door but realized there was no diplomatic way to leave now that she had probably heard him enter. He had avoided her since the fight with Marian, dreading any discussion of the First Enchanter's new proposal. But now it seemed inescapable.

He plastered a smile on his face. "First Enchanter."

"Ah, Knight-Commander! I hope you don't mind that I waited. I had something rather particular to discuss and I've had some difficulty tracking you down this week." She spoke brightly, but he knew her well enough to see that she was also a bit irritated.

"I'm sorry I've been hard to find. Busy week, as always."

"I'm sure," she murmured. "Would you mind if I . . . shut the door? I'd like to keep our discussion private for now."

When she had returned to her seat, she took a deep breath. "Am I correct in assuming that the Viscountess has told you of my proposal?"

His face hardened. "She has."

"I see. Well, at least that's gratifying. She told me that she wouldn't." She sighed. "But it seems she wasn't very . . . convincing?"

He felt his face flush with anger, as Tilda reminded him of how she had manipulated Marian, and then also with guilt, as he acknowledged to himself that he had done the very same thing. Or worse. After manipulating Marian into telling him about the proposal, he had added insult to injury by running out on her when things got difficult.

"First Enchanter, I deplore your involvement of the Viscountess in this business. It is inappropriate and unprofessional for you to capitalize on my friendship with her in pursuit of your own ends. If you have Circle business for the Order, you come to me!"

"But . . . you must have seen at least some of the advantages of my plan? Surely she must have pointed out some of those . . .? Some of the safeguards we envisioned?" She leaned toward him beseechingly. It was like she hadn't heard anything he had said.

He ground his teeth in frustration. "The Circle is necessary. It is the only feasible model we have for protecting all the mages and the city at once. End of story."

"Surely that's not what she said . . ." Tilda countered.

"Marian and I have al— always agreed on this point!" He was taken by surprise at the sudden resurgence of pain that this basic fact was no longer strictly true.

Tilda's eyes narrowed as she watched him closely. "But, what about Hawke herself? Surely she has demonstrated that there are other ways to treat with mages?"

As Cullen felt his temper start to flare at this fact being thrown in his face again, part of his mind couldn't help but wonder that Tilda thought this was a wise strategy. "The Viscountess of Kirkwall has no bearing on this discussion and you would do well to remember that!"

"So then, the rules don't apply to her?" Tilda pressed desperately. "She's fine with being the exception to that rule? Or does she get a pass because she now has her own Templar in her pocket?"

Tilda's words hit so close to the mark, he surged to his feet in anger. "You overstep, mage!" he shouted. "I have given you quite a bit of freedom to run the Circle as you see fit. But this proposal of yours ends here. I will not discuss it or Viscountess Hawke with you any further. Don't give me reason to reassess the scope of your position."

She glared back at him, nostrils flaring, and then stalked to the door. Over her shoulder she gritted, "You should check your allegiances, Templar." Then she jerked open the door and was gone.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to regain his composure. He had lost his temper more times in the last several months than he had in all his previous years in Kirkwall combined.

Ruefully, he could recognize that his reaction to Tilda was also an echo of his arguments with Marian, and those wounds were still too fresh. Too unresolved.

He sighed. How can that woman upend my world so completely?

For a moment, he wondered if he should find a way to apologize to Tilda but decided against it. Anything that dissuaded her from trying to use his sympathies for her own agenda was probably good.

Nonetheless, his sense of unease deepened.

ooXXoo

Hawke was finally feeling somewhat confident about their plan. Now all they had to do was execute it.

They had successfully entered the Gallows undetected and now she, Varric and Aveline were hiding in an unused passage at the foot of the Seeker's tower. Donnic and Merrill had just left to implement their diversion, which would coincide with the change of the guard. Hawke hoped that in all the commotion they could easily gain the third floor of the tower unseen.

While she nervously counted the minutes, Varric was completely unfazed, looking as complacent as if he were sitting in his suite at the Hanged Man. Aveline, on the other hand, looked lost.

Aveline had radically improved since the most recent rounds of Merrill's healing, but it seemed her confidence was fundamentally shaken. As Hawke watched her leaning her shoulder against the wall in a pale replica of her accustomed stance, Aveline fretfully rubbed her hands together and twitched minute buckles on her armor. Always impassive, her expression now was more blank, like she was forcibly suppressing the turmoil seen only in her eyes. Not for the first time Hawke wondered if including Aveline had been such a good choice.

Feeling her scrutiny, Aveline looked up at Hawke and gave her a tight smile. Hawke nodded. Maybe everything would be fine.

She heard a distant shout, and then several more. "Show time," she whispered. They each prepared to move out as they heard running feet and saw several guards run past in the direction of the noise.

They slipped out of hiding and snuck toward the stairs that led up into the tower. As they passed a window, a glance outside showed Hawke the expected light show. The training yard below them was filled with a massive blizzard, pelting the flagstones and walls with glittering ice pellets that merrily reflected the raging firestorm licking throughout the yard at the same time. The combination of the two made for a truly impressive fireworks show that Merrill had been perfecting for its aesthetics and harmlessness.

Importantly, Hawke could see the yard surrounded by the outline of legions of mages and Templars drawn by the disruption.

She moved to catch up with her friends, heading up the stairs and passing the entry to the second floor just as a Templar burst through on his way down. They all shrank against the wall, where they stayed for a few minutes after they heard the Templar exit the stairwell at ground level. Soon after, they were tiptoeing out on to the third floor toward the Seeker's quarters.

Moving slowly around the curving hallway, they immediately stopped when they heard the familiar clank of Templar armor. They exchanged wary glances as Varric stole forward on silent feet.

When he returned he whispered in Hawke's ear, "Only one. No way around."

Hawke nodded, making a gesture for them to stay put while she tiptoed around the bend until she had the Templar in her line of sight. With a subtle gesture, she murmured a sleep spell and soon the guard was slumping to his knees and snoring softly where he leaned against the wall.

They quickly crept to the Seeker's door and Varric made ready to pick the lock. However, he looked up in surprise at Hawke as the handle merely clicked open, already unlocked. With everyone on high alert, they quietly eased open the door. Varric stealthily moved in first, but as he rounded the door, he immediately froze.

Guessing what they would find, she and Aveline quickly followed him in. Sitting in a high-backed chair that faced the door, fingers familiarly steepled before his face, the Seeker smiled at them like a spider watching a fly land in his web.

"You've brought friends this time," he purred. He glanced over his shoulder to the large, open window behind him. "Nice show, by the way. That should have the magic sense of every Templar in the building ringing for a while. At least long enough to mask any suspicious casting. Clever."

As always, he was dressed in black, but this time he had his Seeker amulet hanging outside his jerkin. Hawke watched it pulse in time with her rapid heartbeats and came to the terrible realization that he had known all along that she was closing in.

Aveline took a few almost involuntary steps closer, face drawn in confusion, and then froze. "You," she said in surprise. "I . . . know you."

The Seeker's mocking eyes fell on Aveline. "Ah, my dear Aveline, so nice to see you again. Indeed, for a few short moments, we were actually quite close. Such a shame you recall it so little."

Aveline trembled, her face contorting as if in remembered pain.

He turned back to Hawke. "And you. Yes. I see. You now remember too much." He lowered his hands, his eyes becoming cold and calculating. "So. Come to murder me, mage? Finally pieced together how I now own the Truth of you? How I can keep stripping away the Truth, little bit by little bit, whenever I choose?"

"I'm here to stop you from hurting anyone else."

"How noble. Not revenge, but protecting the honorable Knight-Commander. Never something as base as revenge, right my dear?" He chuckled.

"Oh, there will inevitably be some revenge mixed in. Never doubt that. But the reason you will die is so no one else need seek revenge on you ever again."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I see. The Divine will certainly find this turn of events . . . interesting. As will your Templar, no doubt."

Some twinge of guilt must have shown in her face, for he laughed again. "Oh, wonderful. He has no idea that you're a murderer now. Outstanding! Well then, that shall be my continuing gift to you, mage."

He stood up slowly but made no other move. She, Varric and Aveline stood still in a small semi-circle before him, each poised to attack the moment the standoff ended.

He lightly clasped his hands together and murmured, "So, shall we begin?"

Before he had finished speaking, Hawke's hand shot out, fingers outstretched and then quickly clenched. A glowing cage of blue interlocking lines appeared, surrounding the Seeker, and then slowly started to crush him. At this cue, Varric fired off a quick round of bolts at the same time as Aveline rushed in to pummel him with her shield.

One of Varric's bolts lodged itself in the Seeker's shoulder as the blue cage moved inexorably in on him, but the man didn't even flinch. Instead, he touched his fingers to his forehead, almost like a benediction, and seemed to shrug off the magical cage, sending a spherical disturbance in the air around him rippling out in all directions.

When the ripples hit Aveline an instant later, the guardswoman was suddenly hurled backward through the air, and when they reached Hawke, she felt her own magical cage somehow reflect back on her. Immediately, the blue strands of telekinetic force wrapped around her, tightening painfully as she gasped for breath, but before she could panic the spell ran out and disappeared, dropping her heavily to her knees.

As she took a deep breath and tried to stand, she saw that Aveline and Varric had been knocked down and were both reeling while the Seeker had already healed himself. Gritting her teeth, she immediately dipped into her magic and whipped out both hands to shoot arcs of lightning straight at the Seeker's heart.

He dove behind his chair at the last second, but not before the spell caught his arm. She heard the satisfying sound of sizzling as she quickly circled around the chair to face him.

Varric nimbly jumped to his feet and threw a small explosive flask at Frollo, in an attempt to stun him. But the Seeker was just as fast and already had backed away closer to the window.

Aveline had anticipated this move and was already on him. The determined look on her face was almost fanatical as she engaged him, smashing him back with her shield. The blow was deflected, however, by two wicked-looking, serrated daggers that had appeared in the Seeker's hands.

"Trying to regain something of what you've lost, Aveline," he jeered, making two quick thrusts toward her face which she just barely dodged.

"I stand for all of us," she declared, although her face paled at the jibe. She counterattacked with a heavy swing of her sword, but this time he caught her blade between his own, deftly ripping the sword from her grip with a practiced flip of the jagged edge of one dagger.

As the sword skittered away, Frollo followed with another touch to his brow which threw Aveline back again with a blast of pure force that knocked her into the wall with an audible crunch.

"Aveline!" Hawke cried. A quick glance showed Aveline tenderly picking herself up, but she seemed to have difficulty fully raising her shield arm.

With a roar of anger, Hawke closed in on the Seeker, hands crackling, but realized that she no longer had the advantage of surprise. Just as she released the electricity she felt a wave of spirit energy smash through her, knocking her and her companions all off their feet again. Her heart raced as she struggled to stand, but her mana had been drained. She scrambled for a lyrium potion to replenish herself just as another wave crashed over. The potion shattered at her feet as she toppled over, stunned.

Her senses reeling, she feebly rose to her knees while her stomach clenched and threatened to empty itself. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it and risked a look around the room. She fought a surge of despair when she saw that Aveline and Varric were both down. They were losing.

Concentrating on getting one foot leveraged underneath her, she heard chuckling. She looked up at the Seeker's ever-present smirk as he said, "Now, now, we can't have that." He hit her with another spell that roughly slammed her down to the floor and knocked the wind out of her. She groaned and tried to get up again, but realized she was frozen in place this time, pinned down by the invisible force of his spell.

He brushed his hands together and then sniffed disdainfully. "Now that that's done, mage, let's see if you have anything else hiding up your sleeve."

She saw his eyes flash red and the dark tendrils again stretched toward her, searching out her secrets. She tried to scream, but couldn't tell if she was successful before she was overcome by the invading darkness.

As before, Hawke felt dark magic crawling over her mind, seeking a weak point to enter and then the Seeker was pulling thoughts from her head like unraveling a ball of twine. She desperately tried to hold them back, at least one back, but she was slowly losing the battle. The blood-tinged images again flickered across her thoughts as he pored over them.

This time she saw herself sitting on the floor with Merrill. She felt again her joy as she discovered the baby, joining the despair and revulsion she felt from her revelations about the Seeker.

She heard Merrill's voice in her head, saying again, "Maybe the baby has magic of his own. Maybe it was the baby that . . . protected you."

"Ah ha!" Frollo crowed exultantly. "Now this interruption becomes worth it. A lovely new tidbit for the Divine. Indeed the Chantry will be very interested that the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall has a mage baby on the way. How delightful of you to come and share this news with me. My report to her will now be complete." He cackled. "Three new inmates for Aeonar!"

She was starting to shake through her paralysis with the effort to hold back on the one memory she didn't want him to see. At last he started to notice this focus and his magic shifted, probing more urgently and painfully. She moaned as this new violation made her physically sick.

Finally, as he started to unravel that one thread, she smiled. It was now too late.

He congratulated himself and dug into this new memory with relish, completely unaware of the silent shadow that had slipped in through the open window behind him. Just as he discovered the last-minute addition to their plan that Hawke had tried so desperately to hide, the shadow came to life. But before he had time to react, the Seeker toppled over, unconscious, and standing over him triumphantly was Isabela.

"Perfect timing, Isabela," Hawke said faintly, picking herself up off the floor.

"Well, Hawke, at least you still know how to show a lady a good time. Not even a day in port, and already I'm assassinating highly placed Chantry officials."

Hawke grinned at her, delighted that the serendipity of Isabela's surprise return just that morning had given them the edge they had needed.

Hawke quickly moved to the Seeker's inert body, seeing his sense starting to return. She knew she had just a few moments before his attacks would begin anew. She downed her last lyrium potion and cast a silencing spell on him even though she wasn't sure if it would even work on his strange brand of magic. She followed with a pulse of healing to the room, relieved to feel Aveline and Varric both recover, and drew her dagger.

But looking down at the etched blade, the same one that had killed Anders, she hesitated.

A terrible question rose unbidden. Am I a murderer now? She felt again the agonizing regret of that moment when she had last cast herself as executioner. When in the heat of the moment, tormented by shock and betrayal, she had enacted her own justice upon her friend. And, here she was again, being judge, jury and executioner. Just like Meredith.

She recalled the Seeker's comment about his final "gift" and knew that he was right. This would continue to gnaw at her, especially in light of Cullen's uncertain reaction to the whole situation.

Cullen. She then recalled the Seeker's threats toward Cullen, her family, and a cold certainty settled over her. She hesitated no more.

She took a determined step forward but only had an instant to notice silver eyes looking up at her as a roiling black cloud of darkness swiftly grew around the Seeker.

She and her friends all dove away as the cloud churned violently around Frollo, who had now regained his feet. Eyes glowing red, he began a monotone chanting with hands again steepled before his face. In response, the odd tattoos on his hands pulsed with light and the darkness at his feet branched into looming tentacles that reared and nodded above him.

So much for the silencing spell, Hawke thought drily, watching the Seeker in alarm.

As soon as the chanting ended, the massive tendrils of darkness attacked. Like giant versions of the magic he'd used to pillage their memories, the tentacles wove hungrily through the air and struck out at them all simultaneously.

Aveline deflected several blows from one with her shield, but on its third pass, the branch of darkness split in two against her shield and slithered around the edges toward her. They wrapped around her arm and although Aveline easily severed them with a slice of her longsword, Hawke could see the bright red scores on her arm where they'd attached themselves.

At the same time, Isabela was performing an intricate dance with another tendril, bobbing and weaving as it tracked and followed her swift movements. After a few moments, the pirate had completely tangled the tendril around itself, allowing her to begin slicing off sections with efficient swipes from her paired blades. The darkness recovered quickly, however, reforming itself and beginning the dance anew.

At the edges of the room, Varric tried a variety of tricks that hit the darkness multiple times at once, from fire bomb bolts to bolts that split in mid-air into multiple smaller, faster projectiles.

Hawke took all this in with a blink. Recognizing that their progress against the darkness was steady but slow, she decided their best approach was to go for Frollo himself. She could barely see him at the roiling core of the darkness, but his eyes were still a bright, burning red and he grinned maniacally at them.

"Your petty ploys are still no match for the ancient might of the Seekers of Truth," he shouted. Then he started to quote from the Chant.

"Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

Hawke centered her power with a deep breath. Throwing her hands into the air, she summoned a massive electrical storm that rent the air with crackling lightning strikes. She watched the powerful bolts make contact with the eerie tentacles, tearing gaping holes in the darkness with a flash of blue light and a puff of smoke.

Frollo, however, sprang to life, dodging and weaving away from the deadly strikes with astonishing speed. Disconcertingly, his words never faltered.

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.

In their blood the Maker's will is written."

Isabela must have come to a similar conclusion about the Seeker, as she abruptly darted in behind him for a quick, two-handed strike. But just as she was about to connect with his spine, a massive branch of darkness wrapped around her waist and lifted her bodily into the air. She cried out as the tendril bit into her bare flesh, which was little protected by the typically brief tunic she wore.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him."

Aveline charged in, swinging her sword in frenzied arcs around her as she cut her way toward the tendril holding Isabela. One stout chop and the pirate was free and tumbling to the ground.

"Foul and corrupt are they
Who have taken His gift
And turned it against His children."

Varric started a flurry of attacks to distract the Seeker while Aveline grabbed Isabela's arm and dragged her to safety.

"No one kicks your ass but me, strumpet," Aveline grunted. Isabela smiled briefly through her grimace of pain. Meanwhile, Hawke stretched out with her healing magic to soothe the bleeding and weeping lacerations crisscrossing Isabela's dark skin.

"They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones."

Hawke was so focused on the healing that she didn't see the tendril coming for her until it had wrapped around her legs and was dragging her unceremoniously across the floor toward the Seeker. She was so taken off guard that it took a moment for her to feel the lancing pain from where the tendrils touched her, burning even through her robe.

"They shall find no rest in this world
Or beyond."

She let electricity crackle up from her hands and tried to burn through the darkness entangling her, but she couldn't get a good angle as she flew awkwardly across the room.

Next thing she knew, she was dangling upside down before the smirking Seeker. Immediately, she cast glittering streams of ice at him, but at the same time, felt the familiar wash of spirit energy draining away her remaining mana. She shuddered from the smiting as well as the encroaching feeling of helplessness.

"There is no escape for you, mage," he taunted. "Soon you will cower before the Chantry in repentance for your sins. You . . . and everyone you care about."

She fought back her panic, closing her eyes and reaching inside herself for the last shreds of mana. As she searched for a calm center from which to think, she felt an odd lurch, again like a key fitting into a lock, and then out of nowhere there was a surge of energy pulsing out of her. Opening her eyes in astonishment, she saw the pulse ripple through the air, cutting through the darkness and dispelling the dangerous tendrils. As they withered and evaporated before this strange new magic, she was of course summarily dropped on her head with a thud.

Scrambling back to her feet, she saw for the first time uncertainty on the Seeker's smug face. He staggered back, red eyes widening in shock. "How can this be?"

Her mana curiously renewed, Hawke reached out with both hands and bound him again in glowing lines of force, which this time seemed to hold him. His eyes darted in panic as she slammed him with a wave like his own spirit energy which seemed to draw the remaining darkness out of him. As she watched, the glow in his eyes sputtered out to a dull silver.

Her companions approached in a ring around them, breathing heavily but eyeing Hawke curiously.

"You still cannot win, mage. The Divine will hunt you down. No one defies the Maker himself without consequence!" Frollo sneered.

Hawke chuckled humorlessly. "Indeed. However, merely being a mage does not defy the Maker's will."

"Your Templar cannot evade judgment. Even if you murder me, you will all suffer the Divine's righteous justice!" he continued.

She felt a sense of foreboding at this very real threat. But before she could finish drawing her knife, suddenly Aveline was there, sword flashing. With a quick, brutal thrust, the Seeker was dead, his life's blood pooling beneath him.

Hawke gaped at Aveline, who stood over the Seeker's corpse with an implacable look on her blood-spattered face. In a hollow voice, she murmured, "Justice." Then she moved away to stare out the window.

They were all stunned to silence at Aveline's ruthlessness, but Isabela was the quickest to recover. Impatiently wiping a smear of blood from her cheek, she said, "Well, come on then. Let's get this cleaned up. We need to ditch the body before someone comes looking."

They tidied up the room as well as they could, lowering the corpse in a sack down to the base of the tower where a small boat bobbed silently on its mooring. Isabela attached a big grappling hook to the windowsill and dropped the heavy rope over the side.

"Down we go, my lovelies. I'll climb down once everyone's out."

"Bela, was it a difficult climb?" Hawke asked as she waited for her turn.

"Between the rough masonry and those bright white flowers burrowing their way up the tower, it was a piece of cake. But, whoever thought to add such vines to the Circle Tower is just asking for trouble . . ." she replied in amusement.

Hawke chuckled, imagining mages escaping down the Tower that way and wondering if the Knight's Bloom story might have some truth to it.

It was an easy task to immolate the Seeker's remains and scatter them into the waters of a nearby cove where no one would ever find them. It was soon done and Cullen and the baby were safe.

They all stood silently, watching the waves wash the evidence out to sea. Hawke held the Seeker's amulet in her hand, morbidly fascinated at how it continued to pulse in time with her heartbeat.

She wondered how she could ever tell Cullen about any of this. Even if she had not struck the final blow, the Seeker's blood was still on her hands. Literally, she realized in chagrin, making a mental note to take a long, hot bath when she got home.

On top of everything else, she had infiltrated Cullen's Gallows to perform this foul deed. What would he think? She tried to imagine his expression as she owned up to the night's events, but she could only picture the distant, hurt look in his eyes every time she'd seen him since their fight. He was so principled, he may not understand. She wasn't sure she wanted him to understand her shameful, burning need to destroy the Seeker before the man could destroy them. Cullen was too good. Certainly too good for her.

Finally, Varric spoke up, drawing her back from her dark thoughts. "So, Hawke, what was that back there? I've never seen you do anything like that before."

Aveline and Isabela watched her wordlessly, clearly also curious.

Hawke sighed. "It seems that the littlest Templar wanted to do his part as well . . ." She put a hand protectively over her stomach, still in awe of the remarkable power she had tapped there.

Everyone's faces reflected her own surprise. Then Varric chuckled. "Well, at least you've finally picked out a nickname . . ."

ooXXoo

As Hawke tiredly stepped into her bedroom just before dawn, she had that sense again of another presence. Not taking any chances this time, she immediately pulled on her magic, electricity crackling wickedly between her hands as she tried to counter any threat. Then, just before she released the energy, her mouth fell open in surprise.

In the bluish flickering light she saw Cullen sitting calmly on her bed. He was clad only in tunic and trousers, his face unreadable as he watched her impassively.

She let her magic evaporate away, throwing the room into darkness again. She quickly lit a lamp and approached him cautiously. She saw his eyes flick down the front of her robe which she knew was scorched from her struggle with the darkness and splashed with the Seeker's blood.

They were both silent until his mouth quirked up at the corner. "Expecting someone?" he asked dryly.

She laughed, hearing a slightly hysterical edge to it, and then swallowed nervously. "Not . . . exactly."

He was quiet for a beat and then, in a deceptively casual voice, said, "There was a bit of a disruption at the Gallows tonight. And, I hear the Seeker is . . . unaccounted for."