Let It Go (Frozen) – Mage Hawke

Blood dripped from the walls into little scarlet pools at their feet as they passed. Hawke grasped her staff tightly, casting a shield without fear of the Templars. She was usually so careful, careful to the point that she sometimes left her staff behind in case she was recognised, but the Qunari attack had changed all of that. She couldn't afford to be careful now, not when the people she'd come to consider her own were being felled like trees by the Qunari axes around her.

They'd already seen her. A whole troup of silverite-clad warriors, Andraste's blade blazing on their chests, had appeared around a corner just as she had sent bolts of pure energy flying from her fingertips. And their faces had dropped, and some had readied their blades with mutterings of "Apostate…". And she had felled every silver-skinned giant that charged at them moments later.

"We've no time for this," she'd growled, her companions watching them cautiously, hands inching toward weapons. And they'd agreed, scurrying off into the fiery night like ghosts, hurrying to the Keep. Where Hawke had to follow – where, undoubtedly, Meredith would be hiding.

It was time. Time for Hawke to show them who she was – who she'd always been.

"The blood runs red through the allies tonight," she whispered to herself as they moved, felling ashaad after ashaad and passing all too many faces of those who'd not escaped. "Not a live soul to be seen. A kingdom of devastation… and it looks like I'm the Queen." She snorted, the gravity of her increasing influence over the city suddenly striking her. "The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside," she sighed, shaking blood from her robe. "Couldn't keep it in; Maker knows I've tried…"

She thought of her father's lessons as a chained saarebas slumped to his knees before Aveline's longsword. "Don't let them in," she chanted, remembering, "don't let them see – be the good girl you always have to be!" She thought of Carver in his Templar ranks. Would he be punished for not turning her in? Maybe… "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know…" she murmured as they reached the gates of the keep; she looked bolt upright, and charged.

"Well now they know…!"

Fire blossomed from her staff like a scarlet lily unfurling. "Let it go," she breathed, "let it go! Can't hold it back anymore!" She heard the terrified gasps and a few stifled screams that followed the crowd's sighs of "Hawke!", and she smiled to herself. This felt good. This felt right. "Let it go, let it go – turn away and slam the door!" There was no going back now, but that was alright. She wouldn't go to the Gallows. She'd die first. "I don't care what they're going to say," she decided, her staff's heavy metallic end cracking over the skull of an arvaraad. "Let the storm rage on…" The Qunari fell, blood trickling from his skull as a Templar watched her fearfully from across the courtyard. Hawke sniffed. "Their laws never bothered me anyway," she shrugged, before pushing past him.

"It's funny how some distance," she breathed, hurrying toward the purple flashes of saarebas magic at the head of the stone steps, "makes everything seem small… And the fears that once controlled me," she gasped, concentrating hard before unleashing flame on the giants, "can't get to me at all!" She was whirling her staff in every direction, the pure freedom of it exhilarating despite the circumstance. "It's time to see what I can do," she cried, "to test the limits and break through! No right, no wrong, no rules for me… I'm free!" She threw back her head as lightning rained from the sky.

"Let it go, let it go!" she exclaimed to no one, almost laughing as the Templars around her backed away. "I am one with the wind and sky! Let it go, let it go – you'll never see me cry!"

That was when she saw her – Meredith, silver-gold hair crackling with divine energy and eyes burning like raw lyrium as Hawke danced amid her own flames. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Hawke felt the old quiver of fear. No – she would not fear herself. No more.

"Here I stand," she called, defiantly, "and here I'll stay." Meredith narrowed her eyes as Hawke motioned to the carnage around them. "Let the storm rage on…" she repeated, clutching her staff as the Knight Commander made her way toward the mage.

But then they were at the Keep, and Hawke was still free, and the Viscount's severed skull was lying at the foot of the stairs, and the Arishok was charging. It was a blur. And she was basilit-an, and the fate of the city was in her hands.

"My power flurries through the air into the ground," she whispered to herself, reaching sinewy tendrils of spirit energy through the stone floor before raising them in an icy wall. "My soul is spiralling in frozen fractals all around! And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast…" She was thrown back by a powerful charge, and she lay there for a moment, dazed, as the Arishok readied his blade to plunge. "I'm never going back," she whispered, the hopeful-terrified eyes of her companions fixed on her, the watchful glare of Meredith burning into her. She couldn't go back now. "The past is in the past…!" she cried, sending forth bolt after bolt of magic until the horned leader staggered and fell backwards with a sickening thud onto the marble steps

And then Meredith was speaking, declaring her Champion, and she was lifted onto shoulders and paraded out, her friends shrieking with wild delight and the Templars watching agape, knowing they'd never touch her now, and Hawke let herself laugh as the moment's gravity hit her. She was openly a mage, and they couldn't touch her. She'd beaten them.

"Let it go, let it go!" she crowed, her eyes on the horizon, where the spires of the Gallows smoked as the sun rose behind them, "and I'll rise like the break of dawn! Let it go, let it go – that perfect girl is gone!" She raised her hand to the people as the crowd dropped her to her feet outside the Keep. They cheered, shouting her name, crying, screaming, all in adoration of their saviour. "Here I stand, in the light of day…!" Hawke continued, blinking back tears. "Let the storm rage on…"

She looked back at the stony faced Meredith, smirking.

"Their laws never bothered me anyway."


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Big big thank you to dominicgrim for suggesting this, and also to Sakura Lisel, Tequila se'lai, Briminick and Vain Hydra for your suggestions – this fic was a long time in the making because I couldn't pick from all your fantastic scenarios!

I wanted to do Let It Go for this ficlet as it was so successful, because…. This is the 50th Chapter of Thedas Does Disney! 50th! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, read, and waited patiently through uber-long hiatuses and beared with my rants. Thank you so much, it means the world to me. I should be writing some serious stuff soon too :)

Up Next: Fenris has just been taking the one he loves for granted.

(Remember to vote for your favourite 'Gaston' scenario at my profile, I've fixed the poll so it actually shows now :L)