Our Ghosts Are The Same

Dragon Age 2

Chapter 22: Something New

A/N: Finally got my new laptop and started Inquisition. And these side quests are killing me. They're so tedious! I started a playthrough with Aedan as my Inquisitor which should be entertaining. This story won't have any spoilers for DA:I but I will be drawing on the new demon designs featured in the new game. I now have an account on wattpad and I'll be posting and updating this story on there. I'm there under vault_escape_artist

I also will be eventually posting a playlist for this story on 8tracks, mostly for my own amusement. And more information you did not ask for, Brave would be Aedan's favorite Disney movie. Hawke's would probably be Atlantis because it's a bunch of sarcastic assholes who almost destroy an entire city.

Last thing, how are you all liking Inquisition's multiplayer? If anyone wants to play I want you to know probably be on duty. So.

She was absolute shit at mixing potions but, with Sienna's help, Hawke was able to throw together a rather strong sleeping draught before the day's end. During her most recent trips to the fade Hawke hadn't learned anything useful about this demon because she forced herself awake before the experience grew too intense. Years of being an apostate on the run made her a light sleeper.

This potion would change that.

With it she would go to asleep and stay asleep, whether she wanted to or not. It was a dangerous ultimatum she was giving herself, though all parties involved knew it had to be done.

It tasted terrible and Hawke wished she had paid more attention to the few times Lady Elegant had attempted to teach her herbology. She wished she paid more attention in general.

"Carver," she turned to her brother and raised a glass filled with sleeping potion to him. "If I never wake up from this the estate falls to you. Like when we first came to Kirkwall it is currently filled with mercenaries you're going to have to get rid of first. Sort of promised Meeran he could have it. It's not on paper, though, so it'll never hold up in court."

"Why should you make things easy?" There was a pause before, "Are you certain about this?"

"Aedan's expecting results. This is the best way to get them."

He frowned more deeply than usual. "Yes, that's what I don't understand. Why are you even doing this? We're not being paid, you barely know what you're doing-"

"To be fair, that's a good description of most of the jobs I do."

"He's not a nice person, Sister. He's playing on your suicidal willingness to help people." Carver was being overprotective. It was so cute Hawke wanted to pinch his cheeks and coo. She would have if it wouldn't get her punched.

"Oh, he's made that perfectly clear," Hawke countered and took a huge gulp of potion. "Maker, that tastes awful. Why does lyrium taste like this? It looks like it should taste like blueberries."

Carver's sigh was unnecessarily drawn out. "Then why are you bothering with this?"

"Listen." After drinking the rest of the draught, she climbed into bed and tucked herself in. She knew he expected a long, wordy explanation but all he got was, "I'm working on that."

"Sister."

Bethany used to say that with the same degree of exasperation when her sister had tried to set her up on dates. Even Hawke herself had to admit that sometimes, most of the time, the exasperation was called for.

"Goodnight, Carver. If anything goes wrong go find the other mage girl. Quickly, if you would."

"I mentioned that I don't agree with any of this?"

"Of course you did."

Hawke sneezed. The fade sort of tickled and so she sneezed, though it was very unnecessary. Her eyes were closed. She had been in the fade twice now and whatever spirit was at work here had forced her to relive her mother's passing and then her sister's. As far as Hawke was concerned this couldn't get any worse.

She was often wrong.

Eyes open and she wished she had kept them shut.

Her legs were rooted in the ground. Hawke struggled to move, to make some progress, but she was stopped bothering when she heard her mother's voice.

"You're hurt! Let me help you. My daughter knows some clever people that can help you, I'm sure of it-"

"Not fair," Hawke hissed, falling to her knees. She never had to watch her mother get taken away by Quentin in real life, why should she have to watch it in the fade.

The fade. This wasn't real. Hawke forced herself to turn away from the vision of her mother helping that sick necromancer limp away. She instead turned to the image of Bethany being slammed repeatedly into the ground by the largest ogre she'd ever seen.

Not real. It's a lie. It happened, but it isn't real.

Hawke ignored this demon's attempts to distract her and worked on freeing her legs. A few minutes (she assumed it was minutes; time worked differently in the fade) of focused willpower on her legs eventually freed them.

She immediately began to run. She wasn't sure where she was going but the demon's only attempt to stop her was a blight stricken version of her brother, one that Stroud had refused to help. "You did this!" the thing cried.

"Blaming me even in the fade, Carver?" Hawke jerked away and kept on jogging. "Pretty convincing, but no cigar." While she was running, searching, the scenery around her gradually changed until what was once bleak, with glowing rock and empty sky and little else turned into something irritatingly familiar. "Demon!" This would be so much easier if this blighted demon would just try to kill her already. "Do you mean to kill me with homesickness? You'll be expected to try a bit harder than that!"

Her shouts did nothing to halt this demon's current state of action. The fade transformed into Lothering, or what it had been before the Blight in Ferelden. The city itself was empty; Hawke moved past that. Despite knowing this was a dream, despite knowing this was demon made, there was something Hawke wanted to see.

"Home, sweet home," she whispered even as she realized that the small house and accompanying shed were no longer that.

She didn't recall their place in Lothering being so small, but she supposed it had to have been. An mansion full of empty rooms had caused her to grow accustomed to a lot of open space.

She took a quick couple of steps back, suspicious. Hawke stepped backwards into something cold yet living and when she spun around, her fingers grappled to find purchase on her staff while she found that all that she had been running from had caught up to her.

Mother was back and not in that terrible white dress Quentin had placed her in. She was dressed as she always had, prim and proper and eloquent. It would have been normal if she had not been holding her own head in her hands. Leandra offered it to her eldest. "That man took me apart. Put it back."

That was highly impossible, even for a somewhat experienced blood mage. Hawke kept moving, trying to put as much distance between herself and her deceased parents as she could.

"I tried. I-" Hawke stopped. It was pointless arguing with apparitions. The demon at work here was trying very, very hard to make her forget that, to forget these people were only empty images.

It was almost a full family reunion. Carver and Bethany had finally shown up again. "Why did you take me with you?" Carver demanded, his face and eyes rotting from blight. "Why couldn't you leave me to find my own way? You took me into the Deep Roads to die."

"But you didn't." Why are you bothering to argue? What was this? She knew she had to do something or she'd wake before she'd even find the real cause of all this. Before Bethany's image had a chance to speak Hawke used her will to blast her cozy family circle away from her by a good ten feet.

"But he didn't?" It was hard to miss the hovering, cloaked figure that appeared so out of place in a Lothering homestead. It held a book, some sort of tome that the demon hugged close to it's chest. "One out of four? I would hardly call that cause for celebration. I know that you do not."

"Got ya," Hawke muttered and weapon raised she turned to face this skinny, pale demon. "Was wondering when you'd grow a pair and show up. Not that this hasn't been fun, but it hasn't."

"Do not speak to me so," it hissed, shuddering with suppressed anger. "You are not my intended target. I would not waste my true strength on you."

"Well," Hawke shrugged, not at all disappointed that she was being ignored, "that'll make this much easier."

It was dawn when the Warden-Commander nearly kicked down the door to Ohgren's door. Ohgren let out a startled shout and tumbled comically out of bed. The two wardens that shared the room with him merely groaned with displeasure. One of them muttered, "Looks like someone's feeling better."

"You said we were leaving at noon," the other complained and fell instantly silent when his commander stopped near his bed. "But first thing in the morning is better even."

"I think it's still tomorrow," the first whispered, his voice still dry from sleep.

Aedan yanked the covers off the two beds that still held wardens. There were protests of the cold air that he deftly ignored. "I have not felt the demon's influence for some time now. We should move now while we have an opening."

"I thought we were attending a wedding," Ohgren asked, looking outright ridiculous in the nightgown the mistress of the house had given him.

"We are. Unfortunately. It suddenly occurs to me that I have no outfits suitable for a Ferelden wedding. And if I wear what I wore to the Champion's banquet someone's going to point it out."

"That's lady talk you're spouting there, friend."

"It also occurs to me that you do not possess such clothing."

"You sodding stay away from me."

Hawke rolled out of the way, crouched down and moving until she was able to duck behind her old house. That demon had a frost spell that was vicious. It was either get out of the way of that deadly frost beam or enjoy being frozen for a considerably long amount of time.

"What are you?" Hawke asked (yelled) over the sounds of exchanged spells and hexes. "You're almost like a despair demon, but not quite." She peaked around a corner, trying to get a visual on this beast. Something that wasn't a curse came flying at her and Hawke barely avoided being struck by her own mother's decapitated head.

Knowing this was only the fade did nothing in the face of such horrifying images. Could one vomit in the fade? If so Hawke was really close to doing just that. This whole situation was unnerving. If this creature had taken her by surprise into the fade, into his domain, she would not be able to tell what was real from what were only his tortures. She was having trouble keeping a focused mind as it stood.

Tired of these games, Hawke covered herself with a quick barrier and ran out from behind the building. She fired lightning without thinking, aiming vaguely where she had last seen the demon hovering. She completely missed. But by less than she had expected.

The demon was using the spirits posing as her family, sewn together Mother, blight stricken Carver, and ogre crushed Bethany, to fight against her. "Do you see what you have done? Look closely!"

As Hawke recognized the emotion that was flowing through her she knew what kind of demon they were dealing with.

Her barrier was nearly gone; she'd have to make a move now.

She charged forward, using another mindblast to throw the spirit images of her family away and leaving her clear to face this demon alone. Ducking under the beam of ice and cold that was being directed at her, Hawke switched her grip on her father's staff, and, using it instead like a pike, she thrust up at the cloaked demon's heart.

She missed. But by less than she had expected.

A few inches left of it's heart, her staff pierced it by a good six inches. Hawke twisted the bladed staff until it slipped free and watched the demon fall, landing on his bare, over-sized feet. "I know who you are after, but that doesn't mean I'm someone to be underestimated because I'm not the glorified Hero of fucking Ferelden. Wait. That makes it sound like he's the hero of fucking Ferelden. It's a country. That's not possible."

The demon had gone easy on her and thank the Maker that it had. Hawke wasn't sure how this was going to go if it had taken her seriously. Coming off as a sarcastic jackass came in handy more often than she liked to admit. It was much, much quicker to defeat someone who thought you weak or foolish than one who knew how strong you could be. Thus the act. The Arishok had been the first adversary she hadn't been able to deceive so.

Ignoring the demon's weak threats and curses, she went in for the kill.

Hawke woke up to find her brother and that mage Warden staring worriedly down at her.

She sat up and immediately slammed her fists on either side of her bed. "Shit! I almost had him! Who the fuck woke me up?"

It was then that she saw there was a crying servant boy sitting in the doorway. "I dropped a pitcher, mum. I swear I didn't mean it. I knew you were doing important work and I was sweating and-"

She stopped him. If there was one thing she wasn't prepared to handle it was crying children. "It's all right. I'm clumsy, too. And usually when it really counts. Like this did. Wait, shit, I didn't mean to say that." Her words failed to stop his crying and she simply sighed and looked to her brother. "You were never this difficult. You more of made people cry, not did the thing yourself."

"The same has been said of you," Carver pointed out begrudgingly.

To the serving boy Hawke ordered, "We're going to discuss some scary magic business now so run along. And please stop making that noise. Maker's sake, someone get him a handkerchief."

Someone must have retrieved him because the crying sounds grew increasingly quieter.

Carver rounded on her. "I need a report. What happened? Were you successful?"

"As I am in all that I do, I was successful." Somewhat. She tried then to get out of bed but her dearest brother held her back. "You let me go or get me a chamber pot now because I went to bed with a full bladder and I-"

"Maker," he let her go in disgust.

The Warden's mage had been sitting patiently for the past few minutes and really that was her limit. Sienna abruptly cut in. "Hey! Is this fucking demon a problem or not?"

Hawke blinked a few times before her eyes narrowed and she answered stiffly, "No." It was slightly a lie. Actually, that was a lie. What she had said before was a very, very big lie. She had not killed the demon but it was weakened critically. Deciding to save that information for the man in charge, Hawke continued with, "I'll discuss more with the Teryn and then your commander. If you want more information-"

"If it matters the Warden-Commander will let me know. All I wanted to know was whether it was safe for us mages to take a nap now."

The siblings were now alone and Hawke was squirming with a terribly full bladder. She was trying to recall where exactly the privy was.

Her brother didn't ask immediately because she knew he didn't want to know. A few minutes later he decided he needed to know. "Did you find out what sort of demon was it?"

His sister was struck silent and Carver flinched. He almost wanted to take the question back and leave it to the Couslands, but when had he ever liked leaving things to nobles? Hawke quietly answered him, "It feeds off human guilt."

Aedan was overcome with that fatigue that accompanied the end of an illness. It was a struggle to even keep himself upright on his horse. Several times his head had bobbed and the only thing that woke him back up was the sensation of vertigo from nearly falling off the saddle. Ohgren noticed and had the common sense to avoid saying anything. His other men, men that had never traveled with their commander before, tried to baby him. Aedan quickly corrected that.

They stopped at Highever's Castle gate. It took them a long time to actually get inside. Hoping to reach the castle as quickly as possible Aedan had simply announced himself as the Teryn's brother, instead of any of his other titles, but he had not been able to visit Highever for some time and the gate guards failed to recognize him. When he tried to explain that they were Grey Wardens he was told that the Teryn already had some.

Aedan could feel his left eyebrow twitching and if he didn't set this guardsmen straight now it probably wouldn't stop.

He said a few words, made two grown men cry, and threatened conscription if he wasn't surrounded by fools before somebody said, "From what Teryn Fergus has said, this is without a doubt his younger brother."

Not particularly happy about that, but choosing to ignore it, Aedan led his men inside. He sent them to the stables to take care of their steeds and to rendezvous with the others while he strode to Highever's castle.

He stopped short of the fireplace that resided in the main hall. This was the first he had seen his home without the haze of a fever or some other fade cursed sickness afflicting him.

Overall, it was not what he had expected. No, that was wrong. It was what he had expected and that was the whole issue. Highever was unfamilar and cold and filled with people he did not know and did not know him.

A serving boy asked if he was lost. Aedan nodded and moved on.

Perhaps Highever did not feel as he had hoped, but the demon or spirit that had haunted him was now gone. Hawke had managed to do what he and a handful of Circle mages could not.

He shuddered to think how much he'd have to pay for this. Aedan was thankful that the Champion's Merchant Prince was not there to help her negotiate for her reward.

The Teryn was less surprised than Hawke would have thought. Fergus wasn't as concerned about the how's or the why's. He was focused mostly on the end result which made this all so much easier. As she sat in the Teryn's main work chamber, in his over-sized chair by his own insistence, Hawke was really not at all sure what she should be doing with her hands. She was trying to go over what had happened but Fergus kept pacing in quick circles around her.

"You're making me a little nauseous here, Teryn." She was going to break her neck trying to keep up with him. "Can I just-"

He stopped roving enough to slam his palm against the wall. Hawke jumped, certain that he somehow knew that she hadn't managed to actually finish the demon. When he looked up, however, she realized that the action had been one of delight and not of anger. "Champion, I don't need to hear the details; I've seen the results. My brother arrived this morning and I've never seen him look near as healthy."

Maker, she wanted to tell the man the damn truth! Why wouldn't he let her? It wasn't something she did often; he was in for a once in a lifetime experience. "Your brother is here?"

"Yes, I'm early."

Again Hawke jumped. She hadn't heard that quiet voice in only days but it seemed much longer. Hawke didn't want to think about what that meant.

She felt someone move behind her and stop at her chair, placing a heavy hand on the back of it. Cousland, the one that used to be the only Cousland in her life, was there; tall, grim, and looking well. The last was significant due to the fact the last time they had seen each other Aedan was unable to leave his bed.

She had stared at him too long; Cousland gave her a wink (damn him, he must have noticed his last wink had affected her so) and went to embrace his brother. It was then that Hawke wondered how long he had been standing in the doorway before he found the right moment to barge into their conversation. He seemed so smug about it now and she just had to.

It was a struggle to not break into giveaway laughter. "I had heard that you always come early, Warden. Heyyyy," Hawke laughed triumphantly and jumped up to high-five Fergus Cousland with more enthusiasm than was reciprocated. On the bright side, she did get a surprised, deep laugh out of the Teryn.

Aedan looked at them blankly for a long time. The other two shirked under his gaze in between extremely childish giggles. Then, "I abhor one of you. I'll let you two figure which one yourselves." His lack of a sense of humor hadn't changed. "Hawke I'll talk to you about a reward later. And I want the details of how you killed this demon. I haven't been affected by it's influence as of yet and normally I cannot be within a hundred yards of this place. We will talk when you're in a more professional mood."

"The end of the world is it."

"In an hour. I have to brief my people first."

Hawke sank down into her chair and waited as the two brothers exchanged a few words before Cousland went out the way he snuck in.

She shook her head at Fergus. "Why does your dear brother have to say "abhor"? Why can't he just say "hate?"

"He's always been a little-"

"Pompous."

"Pretentious."

"I don't think that's much better."

"No, it isn't really, is it?"

The Champion decided she liked Fergus Cousland. He was less intense and serious than his brother and had better jokes. Meaning he actually had jokes. She was going to hate disappointing him.

Ah, but who was she used to disappointing already? Hawke choose to take her leave of the Teryn, neglecting to share the real fate of the demon with Fergus.

She was saving that for Aedan.

Hawke was tramping down to the armory, looking for Aedan, when the broke-a-pitcher-when-it-mattered-most boy stopped her by tugging on a cloth piece of her armor and digging his heels into the stone walkway. "Wait! Wait!" He was incredibly loud for such a small child.

"Hush!" She was suddenly thankful that the Warden had found that elven child before her. She did not possess his patience with children.

"There's someone here looking for you!" He was still shouting.

After failed attempts to shoo him away with her hands, Hawke asked, "If it's someone in warden armour I'm looking for him, too."

His little dirty face looked confused. "This man was wearing a dress." He pointed up, towards the battlements. "He's up there now. But he said he needed to see a scary woman that sometimes forgets to comb her hair. It's okay," he sympathized quickly, still afraid he was in her poor graces. "Sometimes I forget, too."

Damn, she needed to check a mirror very soon. The child was standing there, looking at her expectantly. Unsure, Hawke reached into her purse and dropped a few coins into the child's hands. He looked even more confused. He asked, "Did I do good?"

"Yes," she said after too long of a pause. Hawke slowly reached out and patted his head. She knew she should have been better at this; after all, Carver and Bethany were many years younger than she was.

He ran away without saying anything which was weird. Children were weird.

Deciding not to dwell on it, Hawke searched for a way to get to the battlements without having to find a bloody grappling hook or a ladder.

The man in a dress turned out to be a man in mage robes. "Well," Hawke said with a smile. "I have no idea who you are."

"I know."

"That doesn't make anything any clearer."

"I've been following you since Amaranthine."

And he waited until now to approach her? Perhaps he did not want the wardens to become aware of his presence. The man must be rather skilled if Cousland's scouts had not picked up on him as they were marching to Vigil's Keep. "Andraste's tits, I really wish I had told someone that'd miss me that I was going to be up here with you." She moved around so that if need be she could just push him over the side of the battlements. That was her motto. Always be prepared to be murdered.

The mage had a hood pulled down to cover his face. "Before you left Kirkwall you had a disagreement with Knight-Commander Meredith. She sent a detailed account to each of the Circles-"

"And they want to kill me? Also, why do you care what happens to me?" Maker, why was it so cold?

"You have a friend in the underground. He asked us a long time ago to keep watch for any reports with your name in it."

Anders. Aw, that was sweet of him, though slightly alarming. Anders seemed to be more involved in the mage underground than Hawke even knew. "And what do the other Circles say about the little Chantry incident?"

"Most believe you did what any templar would have done." She visibly gagged at that. "Other's think that it's Kirkwall's business. You are the city's Champion, not simply an apostate like the man you killed. It's not a matter of what you did, more of how you did it."

"Give it to me straight. How many people want to kill me?"

"Most that know Meredith know she's simply upset at having her toes stepped on. Others..."

She didn't like that pause. "Shit. What?"

"By running away from Kirkwall and back to your homeland...it makes you look guilty."

Maker, Hawke wished Varric was here. He'd know how to turn this around. Would he, though? Would anyone? She had left Kirkwall in such a rush that she had left her dog behind and her home filled with Meeran and his mercenaries. Granted she hadn't had time to give the actual deed to Meeran, but it seemed he was making himself at home regardless. She just prayed he stayed out of her room and especially that one drawer...

She had given Anders's mage friend a few sovereigns for his trouble and sent him away. What was she going to do?

Oh, Meredith, I just went to Ferelden for a bit of vacation. I know it was poor timing but-

She was a decent bullshitter, not the best, Varric held that title, but even she couldn't sell that story. Sighing and giving up on, well, everything, Hawke settled herself down in the first empty room she found (the library) and waited for either Cousland to find her of for whoever he sent after her to find her.

When Cousland finally did show up he showed surprise at her current location before he immediately began complaining. "I said one hour, did I not?" He took the book she was currently reading. Or using as a pillow, depending on how you looked at it.

"You're not my commander, Commander. I don't take orders from you." Hawke was still trying to figure out how to make it seem not like she had run for her life but that fleeing to Ferelden and stabbing someone in the Chantry were completely unrelated. It was not going well. Most people claimed to be able to think better in a library but the only thought running through her head was, 'damn, someone needed to dust in here'.

"It looks like you do. You are in warden armour," he pointed out casually, taking a seat at the table as well.

She glowered up at him. "If you think I won't strip down in front of you, right now, just to prove a point-"

"Then I haven't been paying attention?"

"Exactly." Nervous, she started chewing on her pinky nail. "What did you wish to discuss?"

"Your reward." Suddenly Cousland stood up and motioned for her to do the same. He held his hand out, waiting.

Unsure what he wanted, Hawke took his hand and shook it. She felt very undeserving of the gesture and even more so when he tugged her closer and gave her a brief one-armed hug like he had given his brother. Uncharacteristically, Hawke turned stiff as a board, not daring to breathe as she waited for it to end. Cousland let her go quickly but the hand that had pressed against her back came to rest on her shoulder.

Maker, was he smiling? Cousland took a breath and said as sincerely as he was able, "You did my family, especially my brother, a great service. I heard Fergus laugh today. Granted it was at my expense but do you know how long I've been trying to do that? Make him laugh?"

She replied too honestly, "You're not very funny."

His grin turned wry. "Be that as it may, my brother hasn't looked better."

He said the same of you. These siblings really cared for each other. It was different. Carver would kill someone for her but say the words "I love you, sis"? Blights would come and go before that happened.

Her stunned silence failed to go unnoticed. Sensing her discomfort, Cousland went back to their original topic of conversation. "About your payment, then?"

He was waiting on to choose a reward. Hawke did not know where the words or ideas came from but they spilled out, unbidden, in a rush. "I want a formal invitation from your brother to attend his wedding. I want a copy of said invitation sent to Kirkwall and dated as if he had meant it to arrive weeks ago. Before-"

"Before you left."

"Stop interrupting. I also want you to spread word that I was hired to kill a demon for you and that I succeeded. Make it sound like you begged me to leave Kirkwall to aid you in this quest. Be really convincing."

He looked surprised, no, more of shocked. It was a little insulting. "Are you trying to pull some kind of political stunt to save your skin? I'm impressed."

"Don't patronize me!" Hawke shouted, her voice nearly breaking with the effort. Someone in another end of the library hushed her. "Shit. Sorry."

Cousland cracked his neck and asked quietly, "Is that all?"

"That's all," she repeated and then cringed. "Wait. One more thing. About the demon. It's, ah, not actually dead."