Trigger Warning: Hawke has some pretty depressing thoughts in this chapter that might be a trigger to some. It's pretty mild to me, but still, I don't want anyone to be distressed by my story so please be warned if you're emotionally sensitive to self-deprecating thoughts.

"'Help me up,' said the eagle to the dove
'I've fallen from my nest so far above,
oh help me fly, I am too afraid to try
now saddled with my fear of heights, I'm
praying you can set me right.'"

"Minnow and the Trout," A Fine Frenzy

31. Drift

I woke to the hum of talk around me; but the smells and the feelings were the same as the day before, so I didn't panic when I came to.

"Look at who has rejoined the living," Varric teased, but when I looked at him - with both eyes open – I could see the caution in his face.

I didn't feel like smiling – so I didn't. I calmly, slowly sat up on the small cot and stared at the hands in my lap, waiting for my mind to adjust to the world around me.

"You slept for a long time; do you feel any better? Not that you slept for too long, or that you it was a problem to wait, because I didn't mind, but I've just heard what everyone else said about yesterday and-"

"Daisy," Varric warned, cutting off her rambling.

My eyes slid up and over Varric and Merrill – and I knew exactly who they were; I knew their stories, their struggles, their quirks – and I realized that I was happy to see them both.

"Daisy and I – well, all of us – we've been worried about you, Hawke. You haven't said a word since you came out of that spell, or whatever it was – do you feel all right?"

I touched the tips of my fingers to my lips – my eye was there, the stitches were not. I looked back up at them both. I have been acting strangely.

How is this any different than me waking up in Tevinter?

I reminded myself that the people here knew and cared about me. The place was familiar and the recognizable faces and places were comforting.

I nodded belatedly. It doesn't hurt anymore. The imaginary pain lingered in a way that I could sharply recall, but nothing had changed since I had been transported to the past.

So I didn't disappear – I was here, unconscious. For months? Years?

I opened my mouth – but the air touching my tongue shocked me, so I closed it again. Silence settled awkwardly between the three of us before Varric took up the responsibility of filling it.

"I bet you're a little confused – hell, so are we. Let's try and clear up some of this mess so we can start to help you. Sound good?" Varric waited for only a second before continuing, guessing that I wouldn't answer. "You were in the Black Emporium. You dropped like a sack of potatoes; Fenris grabbed you and ran the entire way here. Still following?" At this, Varric paused until I nodded, yes, I'm still paying attention. "Anders said he looked you over, top-to-bottom, and couldn't find a single damn thing wrong with you that would make you fall out on us. Which is odd for people in businesses like ours – there is usually some real reason for us to collapse off our feet.

"Anders said the only explanation he could come up with was that some kind of magic was being wreaked on your mind – and Fenris said Xenon told him that you would wake up eventually. You were out for two days and woke…well," Varric paused, looking rightfully sheepish. "You know the rest. Seem right?"

Two days. No, months – years – a lifetime - forever.

Two days?

I nodded. I couldn't say no to Varric, even if I knew it was wrong. It had to be.

Pets don't disagree.

My hands worried the scratchy blanket in my lap. He's lying. Why is Varric lying to me?

He's working with Danarius. He isn't my friend – we've never met in this time. Does he know? Do they all know?

Does Fenris know?

I chill swept over me and I shuddered – I could only see his glaring, hate-filled gaze or his scathing ignorance that broke me.

"Hawke?"

My head snapped up immediately and my hands dropped the fabric.

"Do you remember anything?"

All of it.

Every bit.

Every disappointment, every touch, every beating, every coveted happiness.

I could only stare – I couldn't say yes, but I couldn't say no; couldn't tell, but I couldn't bring myself to lie.

After a few minutes of this uncomfortable stalemate, Varric sighed.

"Are you hungry?"

-D-

Someone went out to fetch me food while Merrill gathered my clothes and helped me dress. After I was fully and properly clothed in robes, I was once again staring at a plate of food – but this time it was all fresh fruit and bread. I knew I should eat it myself without any prompting or assistance – shouldn't I?

Should I?

I looked up at Varric, Merrill and Anders, all expectant. I felt strange, like I would be punished if I did but would disappoint them all if I didn't.

So I picked up a slice of fruit between my trembling fingers and smashed it against my lips, trying to work it inside my mouth.

I stopped once I realized I was being stared at by my companions – with various expressions of confusion and concern on their faces.

"What is she doing? Do humans normally eat this way while recovering? Am I missing something vital?" Merrill asked, glancing from face to face.

"No, Daisy," Varric supplied, sounding a little defeated. "This isn't normal."

I took a deep breath through my nose. I'm not slave Marian – I'm Hawke. Malcolm's daughter. I deliberately opened my mouth – the air hitting my tongue made me tremble, but I slid the piece of fruit inside quickly, relishing in the taste and flavor of something so sweet and juicy and dear Maker, that's delicious.

I finished the fruit soon after the first bite, unable to restrain myself from such divine tastes – the bread came last, but it was filling and it felt good to rip my teeth into the hard grain.

After my meal I froze once I realized what I had done – my heart began to pound even as those around me resumed their easy conversation, satisfied that I had eaten.

Hadriana will be so angry -

I shut my eyes, bracing for the pain – but forced myself to relax, forced my muscles to unclench. There is no danger.

Anders moved towards me and I flinched away, stilling again – but he only slowly took my plate away, making his moves obvious and exaggerated.

What is wrong with me?

I knew that no one here would hurt me – I knew that. They weren't lying, they weren't working with Danarius – they were my friends, my companions.

Everyone stopped speaking for a while after that, regarding me cautiously. I felt ashamed.

A hard knock was heard at the door to Anders' private quarters; he answered it, the recognizable redhead at the door.

"We visited the Antiquarian again," Aveline began with her sharply accented voice, entering the room with great difficulty, bending and ducking through the doorframe so as to not scrape it with her armor. "We told him that Hawke finally woke. He didn't seem surprised."

"Good afternoon to you, too," Varric said with mock sincerity.

"What did he say?" Merrill asked, perking up in her seat.

"He admitted finally that he gave her a magical object that put her in such a state. I wasn't familiar with the name, but I wrote it down – he wouldn't tell us much more than that, I'm afraid, and didn't let us even look at whatever it was."

"Let me see it," Anders said, extending his hand, palm up. Aveline dug into one of her pockets, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it to him. Anders regarded the parchment for a moment with a furrowed brow before taking the two steps toward his desk and pulling out a book full of leaves of parchment.

"Looks like Blondie is on the case," Varric said, placing a gloved hand on his chin. His eyes turned to me a moment later, the sound of Anders' mumbling filling the room. "You know, Hawke, you scared us all pretty badly. You can't leave us for more than a day without some disaster happening – what were we supposed to do without you up and around to keep us in order?"

More like you didn't want to have to end your story of the "Legendary Hawke" so soon.

I bit back a smile and stared down at my hands again.

"There it is, I see your smile," Merrill said happily, sitting up straighter in her seat with crossed legs. "Look, she's getting better all the time."

"That she is, Daisy. That she is."

"Having much luck?" Aveline asked, stepping closer to Anders.

Anders sighed and pushed away from his desk. "No. Not much, anyway. Whatever that object is, it's old – ancient – so the magic inside of it is just as ancient. I'll have to write some friends, see if I can turn anything out from them."

"I'll ask around, too," Varric said, leaning back in his seat. I glanced up, looking from face to face without landing on one long enough to make eye contact.

I realized that I didn't want them to figure it out – I didn't want them to learn how badly I had failed. I was ashamed, too, that I had let a man control my life so strictly that I had damaged myself to learn to please him.

I put myself through hell and had nothing at all to show for it.

Foolish, stupid woman.

No lasting differences could be made that weren't meant to be in existence; the Maker – or perhaps Time itself - saw to that, correcting any damage I would have otherwise done in my efforts to "save" Fenris from his fate.

None of it even mattered in the end. None of the tireless days spent running, the planning, the lovemaking, the terror – it was all a distraction from the end goal that will always be inevitable.

Why did I ever think that I could change time?

"It can't hurt to put some lines in the water," Aveline agreed, looking at me. I blinked stupidly, having forgotten what they had been talking about; I had wandered so far into myself that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. I felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny and shifted, looking down again. "What say you, Hawke? Do you remember anything at all that happened after you collapsed?"

The silence was thick; I wanted to crawl into a dark corner and forget anything ever happened – I wanted to get their eyes off of me, their knowing, staring orbs making me self-conscious. My skin itched and burned.

"She hasn't said a single word since she regained consciousness," Anders observed quietly.

"Is something wrong with her tongue?" Aveline asked, turning her attention to the healer.

"None that I could detect," he said, worrying a loose thread on his sleeve. "It's highly possible that the magic did something to her to make her voluntarily mute."

"She just needs a little time," Varric supplied, standing. "It's Hawke – whatever it is, she can work past it. Right, Hawke?" His eyes returned to me, a smile full-force on his mouth.

I couldn't bring myself to return it, but I nodded.

"See? Try not to worry too much, Blondie. Now, I need to go see a man about a horse. You coming, Daisy?"

"Oh, yes!" Merrill jumped up, green eyes bright. "I love horses. They aren't as calm as the halla, but they are no less graceful – or so I've found, I suppose."

Varric chuckled as he led Daisy out. "Take it easy. See you soon, Hawke."

It was quiet for a moment after the door shut. Aveline looked amused.

"My father used to say that he was going to see a man about a horse whenever he had to visit the toilet," she said, making an effort to stop smiling and failing at Varric's choice of words. "Oh – before I forget –" she turned to me, eyes suddenly serious and face drawn. "What did Fenris do to you?"

Angry eyes, unrecognizing, breaking-

"I would like to know as well," Anders said sternly, crossing his arms. "Has the elf done anything to earn that reaction yesterday? I understand that it could have been coincidental, but –"

"-but you haven't had such a drastic reaction to anyone else," Aveline continued, "if he's done anything to you, I'll have him locked up-"

I shook my head vehemently. No – he hasn't – but -

He has.

But it wasn't him.

I felt like crying.

There was no way I could explain any of it without seeming mad – they would put me in the Circle of Magi for my own good, or make me tranquil for being crazy if I tried to explain what happened to me.

It isn't his fault – none of it was his fault -

All mine.

"Are you sure?" Aveline asked, looking directly in my eyes. I almost glanced away – but instead held her gaze firmly, forcing her to accept that Fenris has done nothing wrong. I nodded once, pressing my lips together.

Anders sighed and Aveline straightened. "You hurt his feelings, I think," Aveline said wryly. "He holed himself up in his dirty mansion after you nearly broke your neck trying to get away from him yesterday. I have no patience for him when he's in a mood like this, so he'll have to come off it himself."

"Maybe she's finally realized how dangerous he is," Anders muttered, earning a sharp, tired glare from the guardswoman.

"No more dangerous than you or me," Aveline retorted before turning her attention back to me. "I think it's about time you went home, don't you?"

"What?" Anders asked, startled. "She hasn't fully recovered –"

"She seems fine to me," Aveline said. "She's awake, she's eating, she's responding – what's wrong with her?"

"She –" Anders sputtered, at a loss. "She's not speaking, she – she isn't at her best –"

"Does she have to be at her best to go to her family home? Don't you think she needs rest more than anything?"

"I have reservations about her being away from the clinic until she seems more like herself," Anders said. "What if she collapses again?"

"We'll check on her," Aveline promised. "Every day. Every meal time, if necessary."

Anders sighed. "I doubt I'm going to win this argument."

"You aren't," Aveline said shortly. "Come on, Hawke. I'll walk you."

-D-

Anders ended up tagging along to walk me home – darkness was falling, but we weren't attacked. It seemed that we had cleaned up the streets enough to not fear walking home late, but none of us were ones to chance fate.

We made it to the Amell estate without incident – until Anders offered to spend the night and keep watch over me.

"I think she can handle herself," Aveline said, shooing him away. "She's old enough to take care of herself for a night – besides, what would the neighbors think?"

"A crazy apostate man spending the night with messere Hawke!" Anders said, rolling his eyes. "Maker forbid they tell stories about our sordid affair. She's unwell, I'm a healer. It is what it is: an offer. My intentions are clean."

"I believe you," Aveline said. "But I also believe she could use some privacy. You people have been dogging her every waking moment; if she were me, I would want some alone time."

"'Alone time' could kill her if she collapses again," Anders pointed out, only to receive a heated glare. "Very well," Anders said with a sigh, stepping out of my foyer, outmatched by the warrior. "Good night to you both."

"Have a safe night," Aveline responded, bristling. She held her tongue until he was completely gone, out of the door and on his way back to Darktown. "Hawke, I know what I just said to Anders, but – would you like someone to stay the night?"

Completely serious, Aveline held my gaze, regardless of her having nearly pushed Anders out the door for making the same offer.

I knew that having Aveline around would make me feel safer – already, I could feel the shadows of the empty rooms crowd around me, waiting for an opportunity to overcome – but I also knew that being weak, that asking Aveline to spend the night would not be something Marian Hawke would do.

Ignoring my fears, I shook my head. I shouldn't keep Aveline from her duty just because I'm scared.

There was no reason for me to fear. Nothing has changed between now and when I was transported to the past.

Except my entire world had changed – so much had changed.

"Very well," Aveline said slowly – reluctant, but unwilling to be invasive. "I'll be patrolling in Hightown tonight, so don't feel too lonely. Bodahn and his boy are away for the week – we learned that when we sent someone to alert them to your situation a few days ago and there was no one here but a note. If you get lonely or feel threatened, feel free to yell for me out your window. I'll come running, because if I don't someone will complain about the disturbance and I'll have to come anyway."

I cracked a smile, feeling small again.

I tried not to look around at all the dark corners of my house, knowing it would only make my skin crawl.

"Have a restful night," Aveline said, backing away towards the door. "I'll stop by first thing in the morning, so be awake."

I didn't respond in any way, but I waited in the foyer until the door shut behind her. I rushed forward immediately to lock it, blowing out the candle Anders had lit when we entered my home, dropping me into darkness.

I felt along the wall, creeping until I made it into the great room – and then to the stairs. I knew my home by heart, but it felt like ages since I had walked its halls. The dark corners felt unfamiliar, unsafe – each turn made my heart leap in fear, imagining demons and sadists around each corner, ready to burn and maim me.

My hands were shaking by the time I made it to my bedroom, my knees weak when I reached my bed. When I lay down, I froze, uncomfortable and tense. The bed felt too soft. I couldn't close my eyes, couldn't rest – it felt like I was breaking rules by lying on my own bed.

Fighting back bitter tears, I crawled off my bed until I reached one of my closets – a hulking armoire, with four stout legs – and I threw it open, crawling inside, away from all the eyes in the dark, hiding from anyone that would do me harm.

I felt ashamed for being so weak – but as ashamed as I was, I was still too afraid to crawl out.

So there I slept, a bare sliver of light creeping into the closet to peek at my face; every scratch, every whisper of wind causing me to wake in a cold sweat.

-D-

I win.

I gasped and tumbled out of the closet, stringing clothes and belts out behind me as I skittered across the room. The stone floor chilled me, but the sun shone through the high windows and heated the stagnant air.

My chest pumped rapidly with my heart and breaths as my eyes darted around the room.

I heard what had woken me – a pounding at my front door.

I crawled under my bed and stayed quiet until the pounding had passed.

-D-

"Messere Hawke? You home?" called a light, male voice as the door slammed. I jolted awake – my head hit a beam of wood and a sack of flour fell into my lap, coating me with a light dusting of powder. I panicked, scrambling to put the flour back into the sack but only succeeding in making a bigger mess.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

"Serah?" Bodahn asked, pulling open the door. "Sweet Andraste, what are you doing in the pantry?"

I opened my mouth to explain myself, but my tongue caught and the words wouldn't leave my throat. I sat with a package of flour dumped in my lap, at a loss for words to explain myself.

Bodahn waited a moment before sighing. "Just when I thought humans couldn't get any stranger," he said with a chuckle. "I'm sorry for returning at such a late hour, but my cousin, you understand, wouldn't let us go when we wanted. Wouldn't hear a word of it; we had to drag ourselves out. Isn't that right, Sandal?"

"Enchantment?" Sandal returned, swinging his legs on a chair in the kitchen. I stood up with Bodahn's assistance; he placed the flour back on the shelf. My head smarted.

"That's right, he did a lot of enchanting," Bodahn continued. "My apologies for putting you out of a manservant for nearly a week. But you're a big girl – not that you're big, you know – but you can handle yourself for a few days, I thought. You seem to have managed well. I suppose I'll start the dinner; is that okay with you, messere Hawke?"

Already out the kitchen door, I started my walk to the stairs. I didn't remember finding my way to the kitchen or crawling into the pantry – so lost.

I made it to my room, but no further. I stood in the center of my room, staring up at the high ceilings, out of a window far above my head. The sun was setting at a slant not visible from that window, making the light coming through shaded; dull and dark.

I felt eyes on my back – dangers around every corner.

Why?

Why?

I spent two days hallucinating; dreaming.

It never happened.

I've never even been to Tevinter.

Why am I so afraid?

I didn't realize I had slid to the floor until my forehead touched the cold stone; I felt my shoulders shuddering with dry heaves.

A dream.

Not real.

It's not real and I'm letting it control my life.

I had spent the last few days in my house catatonic; ignoring my friends, unmoving except for necessary reasons – crawling from hiding place to hiding place, unwilling to confront reality.

But reality found me on the floor of my bedroom, curled up and weeping like a baby.

Weak.

Fool.

I squeezed my hands around my head, fighting the oncoming headaches.

All of that pain and nothing to show for it except realizing how monumentally stupid I am.

Everything in the past… in my hallucination… would have turned out fine, if not for me and my meddling.

Worthless.

I heard footsteps on the stairs; I rolled over and backed away from the door until my back hit the footboard of my bed. Someone knocked on my bedroom door.

"Messere? I brought you a plate of dinner. Since you seem busy, I'll just set it on the ground right here. Better get it soon; Aveline might send your pooch back and he'll gobble it right up if you don't claim it."

He turned and left. My head swam; I knew I needed to eat to regain my strength, power over my thoughts.

So I crawled to the door and rescued my plate of food – ate it with my mouth wide open, unafraid but trembling.

-D-

My washroom felt unsafe – I expected Hadriana to come out and seize me in my most delicate state.

My study was no better, even though my reason for being afraid made me guilty. Amongst the tomes and smell of parchment, I expected the order punish her to ring out; expected the wrath of a manipulated Fenris to bear down upon me until I was broken and bleeding, unable to even cry out.

Fenris never hurt me.

I had to keep reminding myself that the past that I endured didn't actually happen to me. It was impossible; even if it had, I could never blame Fenris for the orders of Danarius. Never.

No matter what he was ordered to do to me, I knew that he cared for me, loved me – that he would have never done any of the cruel things that he did to me in his right mind. I knew that.

Maker damn it, I still loved him. Even after the brutal punishments and indifference and heartbreak, I still loved him. But every so often, while sitting in my house, I would realize that he never existed and it broke my heart all over again.

Most of the days in my home I spent holed up in my room, where there were no corners to turn around – no risks. My friends came and were turned away by Bodahn, who said I was 'unwell' or busy and refused to leave my bedroom – not even for meals.

It was so unlike me to wallow; I never did this, not when my sister died or when my brother left; not even when my mother was brutalized. I never pulled into myself and refused life.

It didn't feel like anyone died – but it felt as if I was dying, fading away, forgetting who I was.

I was plagued by memories of events that never occurred; in my nightmares, my heart was broken over and over again by a man I never had the opportunity to love.

"I can promise nothing else but to try."

I felt a pang in my heart as I heard the low, raspy words – I could see him in front of me, with his dark brown hair and emerald eyes teeming with life, worries, nervousness and excitement.

He had been willing to try for me – and what had I done for him in return?

I covered my mouth in horror, falling into the trap of hating myself again as I tried to stifle my oncoming tears.

I ruined his life. He gave everything to me, and I ruined him, and now I'm sitting here, useless and dumb, unable to face the life he wanted to give me.

I knew I needed to push past this – I couldn't let a few nightmares control my life. The memory of my Fenris – my Fenris, not Danarius' twisted pet – begged me to.

It never happened. Stop acting like it did.

He would have wanted me to be strong for myself. I wanted to be strong for myself - this cringing, frightened creature was not me.

But it is.

I decided that I would face my fear directly, without shirking confrontation. There would be no fear; I could handle myself – there were no mage collars, no magebane, no wounds – and he wouldn't hurt me. Night had fallen hours before, but I still crept to my kitchen, as silent as I had been taught to walk as a slave.

Which never happened.

Fresh produce abounded in my kitchen and I was thankful to Bodahn for keeping it well stocked. I worked for a few hours, cooking and seasoning until I had a decent meal assembled from excellent ingredients. I packed the food into bowls, and then into a basket – which I also stocked with a bottle of wine and a fruit.

With a heavy chest, I started out the door, basket in hand – forgetting my boots and gloves and even my robes, so used was I to walking around in barefoot and rags. Finery would have to do for this trip. My destination wasn't so far away – but I hadn't seen him for a week, and the last I had seen him I had such an adverse reaction to him that I apparently "hurt his feelings".

I had to do this; I couldn't cower in my room for the rest of my life – my life wouldn't be complete without this closure. I needed to do this; I needed to see him and know that we had never met prior to Anso's letter. That this was the only Fenris that I would ever know and he would never intentionally cause me harm.

Despite my initial confidence, my trepidation grew with each step.

I knew, somewhere inside, that I had nothing to fear from this Fenris. This one knew me as a companion, a friend; he had defended me, had my back as I had his time and again – he wouldn't hurt me.

Fenris of the past, pet Fenris, this Fenris – what made them different? Why weren't they the same?

The ground was cold as my feet slapped against the stone. I hunkered over, suddenly aware that Hightown was dangerous after dark – but this step was more important than being afraid of gangs or imposter guards.

When I reached the dusty mansion, I didn't have the bravery to knock on the door. I suddenly didn't want to alert him to my presence – standing there, looking up at his door, I realized that I couldn't see him.

Not like this, not as I am.

He gave up everything for me, only for me to be reduced to this?

But he didn't. It was just a dream – it never happened. All wishful thinking that I would have never wished for.

He has stood at my side through many horrors. I owe him more than this.

All this Fenris knew was that I passed out for a few days and woke up only to scream at his presence. I owe him more than that. Even if I never see him again after this – I owe him so much more than that, for fighting by my side and being my companion, let alone the romantic interest that may have once been between the two of us.

So with a deep breath, I crossed the threshold, pushing the heavy door open and shouldering my way through.

As soon as the door shut behind me, I knew I had made a mistake. The entry way was so dark, cold and cramped with old crates and belongings that my blood pressure raised just by being there. I set the basket down on a table just past the entryway and tried not to panic – but before I could steel myself, I was back in my cell, begging for food, hunched over until I lost blood flow in my legs -

I hugged my arms around myself, standing awkwardly in the center of the room, hating myself, hating the situation. My hands shook from the cold – I began to feel empty and scared. I shut my eyes, trying to calm myself, taking deep breaths.

The cell never existed.

You were never in Tevinter.

Fenris will not hurt you.

"What are you doing here?" a loud, deep voice asked a mere few feet away.

I screamed and was out the door in a heartbeat, pounding my way across Hightown in the cold of the night.

"Hawke!" I heard him yell behind my back, calling me – but the sound of his voice, barking and loud, made me flinch – all I could hear were his hard, rough pants and grunts as he drove his heel into my bones and planted a fist into my cheek.

Halfway back to my home, I fell and busted my knee – but that didn't deter my running, even with a slight limp. My adrenaline and over worked heart kept me running, the tears coursing down my cheeks, running off my chin as I reached my home and ran straight up the stairs, feeling foolish and weak, like every action I could ever take would be futile.

Futile and worthless. Sobbing, I grabbed a pillow from my bed – still too soft to sleep on – intending to crawl into my closet but ended up scooting beneath it, pressing the pillow towards the wall and curling my body around it.

I didn't move for hours, crying into the soft fabric of my pillow. I eventually – blessedly – fell into a light slumber, my eyes and lips raw, my heart resuming its normal beating patterns.

I'm so happy to have gotten this far; I feel like me and Marian have come a long way together and it gives me the honey nut feelios.

How do you feel about the possibility of the Warden and Hawke (and potentially their LIs) making appearances in DA:I? I've heard a bunch of different rumors, but I don't know anything for certain…and I'm not sure how to feel. :I