Hawke's head hurt. Her head hurt, and someone was fussing at her, plucking and adjusting and otherwise making it impossible to sleep, "Go away, Carver," she mumbled.
Carver's dead, remember?
She opened her eyes. A grey stone wall. This was not her tiny room in the hovel. She'd never owned a pink rose patterned quilt, either, come to think of it. Where in the void?
Cullen put you down like a rabid dog, remember?
Hawke shot up in the bed before groaning and leaning forward, her hands going to her head to try and stop her brain sloshing around in protest.
"Oh, the Captains little pet finally decides to join us. Get up, girl." Someone kicked the little single bed she was sitting in.
Hawke looked around, moving her head gingerly, lest her brain detach again. A young lady, in a templar uniform, holding a clipboard. An elven servant who had apparently been the fussy one. She was in a cell. The gallows. The gallows used to be a prison.
No, please, Maker, no.
Tears filled her eyes and ran unimpeded down her cheeks. She complied numbly as the elf got her standing and started pulling off her robe. Her eyes were stuck on the door, the wooden door with a little window in it and iron bars. She was dreaming. She was still dreaming. She had to be.
The elf was lifting her arms one at a time, then turning her around as the templar examined her naked body and made notes on her clipboard. Hawke tried to catch her breath, "Cullen…"
"Captain's got more important things to do than deal with apostate bitches, girl," the templar cut her off, though she mostly seemed entirely uninterested than actually malicious.
When the woman had finished making her strange notes, the elf pulled a new robe over her head. A novice robe. Hawke stared at the elf, wide eyed before transferring her gaze to the templar, "I don't… What…" she wasn't even sure what she was trying to say.
The templar tilted her head before she sighed, her voice softening slightly, "Just follow orders and you'll be fine, girl. They've decided not to execute you."
Hawkes stared at the templar, just this side of entirely unresponsive. Cullen had decided not to execute her. Was that a favor? A bit of a nod to whatever affection he'd had?
The templar nodded at the elf, who scampered off and escorted Hawke to the door. Outside, two more templars were waiting and they fell into step behind Hawke as she followed the woman, "Where are you taking me?"
"Already got your blood, all that's left is the harrowing."
Something was wrong with Hawke's breathing, she sucked at the air but couldn't seem to fill her lungs. She was making funny, high pitched noises from her chest. They already had her blood. She was being taken to the harrowing, where a templar would hold a sword to her throat and…
Hawke's knees went weak and she stumbled before backing up. The two men behind her caught her by the arms without even losing step, dragging her forward, "Nononononono…" That could have been her voice, or possibly someone elses. This was a nightmare. This was a nightmare and she would wake up.
She struggled, yanking on her arms and pulling back, her feet sliding out from under her as she fell backward, slipping from the grasp of the two men. She rolled to one side and was halfway back up to her feet, already sprinting before something slammed into her side, knocking her into the stone wall with enough force to empty her lungs in a sudden rush.
She went down hard on the white streaked flooring with the second man landing on her back a second later, "Fucking apostates," she heard him grumble as he got a fistfull of her hair, yanked her head back, then slammed her face into the marble.
Notes:
Alternate title: In which I realize that both rape and torture are canon, so a little gratuitous violence doesn't require a big warning.