Our Ghosts Are The Same

Dragon Age 2

Chapter 27: A Strange Case of Mistaken Identity

A/N: Uh, I've been listening to the Life Is Strange soundtrack nonstop. Also, apologies for the long break. I'm getting to the last leg of training and it's getting real.

Marian Hawke was not particularly agile or quick. Hawkes were built tall and sturdy, just like her father. The life of a rogue had never been an option for her, even if she hadn't been born a mage. If she had taken after the Amell side, perhaps then, but it was not meant to be. She was her father through and through. And while she had no chance in hell of being able to take on Aedan fucking Cousland in close combat, a long range battle was another thing all together.

So Marian did what Hawke's did best; she ran fast and far. The fade took shape around her as she put as much distance between them as possible.

He called her a coward and a murderer and his voice broke on both.

Well, he's not wrong, some nasty part of her chimed in.

Self reflection would have to put off until a much, much later time. Cousland ran incredibly fast for someone of his build. Without that ton of metal padding he always wore he was surprisingly quick. She guessed if he wasn't he would have died a long time ago.

Hawke should have guessed that killing the Hero of Ferelden wouldn't be so easy.

His vision blurred as Aedan chased after what he believed was the disappearing Rendon Howe. The ground beneath him was even and his footsteps sure. Aedan was shocked at how quick a man of Rendon's age was, but that thought was quickly shoved to the back of his mind.

Something's not quite right...

Once more any sense of perception Aedan had was clouded and his focus was forced only on Rendon Howe's back. Aedan ran after him, one hand at the blade on his hip. Rendon turned a corner and when Aedan followed a short blast of lightning nearly struck him. Aedan ducked as another quick flash was sent his way and nothing was making a damn bit of sense.

Rendon is no mage. What is this...

He was suddenly flooded with grisly images of his family, cut down in their own home, and he was no longer so concerned with all the tiny details that didn't all add up.

The few shots of lightning that she managed to get out all fell shy of their target. And the Warden kept on coming. And running was still looking like the best option. She faced forward again, her lungs screaming, and ran until the fade formed a sudden wall in front of her.

Hawke forced herself to a halt, her heels skidding in the dirt. Whirling around, she managed to raise her staff in time to meet the sudden downswing of Aedan's sword. Her knees buckled underneath the strength and the hate behind the blow, but before he could overcome her Hawke twisted her staff to the side. Aedan's blade was jerked away though he swung it around back to meet her again quickly enough.

Stay out of his reach, idiot. Why are letting him get so close?

As Hawke chastised herself she realized her last question had quite a few possible answers.

She distanced herself and, using her teeth, bit into her wrist until she drew blood. Blood magic was supposed to used as a last resort, or when she was really bored, and trying to kill a Cousland was a probably a good enough reason.

She used a variation of her 'puppeteering' spell; using blood magic to slow down Aedan's movements rather than control them. Unfortunately, as Aedan was a reaver, he was rather skilled a fighting off her blood magic as his own skills were similar.

Aedan was using his father's blade as more of an ax. He hacked away at Rendon's halberd again and again. He didn't want to cut him down. No, that would be far too quick and far too noble a death for a snake like Rendon. His jaw was clenched. His teeth ground together. He would disarm Rendon, take him down, and throttle him with his bare hands. It was what he deserved.

I deserved...more.

"You blood sucking coward."

"Blood mage, yes. Blood sucking, no," Rendon corrected him and instead of responding to his nonsense, Aedan resorted to answering with his blade.

He struck down with both hands and Rendon raised his halberd with both hands and caught it on the wooden staff. The force behind the blow caused Rendon to stumble back or it may have been his uneven footing.

Hawke swore. This bloody demon was making the fade work against her. While trying to block Aedan's hacking and slashing, the ground beneath her became rocky. As a result she had tripped and fallen flat on her ass. Which was rather embarrassing considering she was trying to duel Ferelden's greatest hero.

When Isabela asked for a duel we should have actually practiced dueling.

There was no time to reflect on past regrets, which was probably to this particular demon's chagrin. Aedan had literally pounced on her, wrapped both hands around her throat, and slammed her repeatedly against the ground.

Two hands was excessive. Honestly one hand would have been enough.

You know what they say about a man with big hands-

Hawke had to cut her own self off that time. While she being throttled to near death was probably not the best time to be addressing such thoughts.

Instead, Hawke laced her fingers together and quickly brought her hands up above her head. It broke Aedan's hold on her for a second before his hands reached for her again.

Hawke decided to try something.

"You blue-blooded prick, get off me!" Hawke blocked Aedan's attempts to choke her again. She realized it would be much easier to kill him if he wasn't trying to kill her. "It's Hawke, you daft bastard. Hawke. H-A-W-K-E."

For a second she thought she might have reached Aedan. He certainly had paused, that clever brain of his was certainly struggling to believe the lie the guilt demon had fabricated. But, alas, he fell back under it's spell. A fact Hawke was brought to terms with rather violently.

"You broke my damn nose," Hawke hissed, her mouth filling with her own blood. "This was, ugh, a great nose. A Hawke nose. And you broke it."

When Aedan's arm reared back for another punch, Hawke caught his fist in one hand and, calling up flame into existence, burned him until Aedan pulled away. Seeing an opening as Aedan tumbled backwards, without thinking, Hawke lunged forward with the knife she kept hidden on her belt.

She had meant to gut him. She plunged the blade into Aedan's right side but at his surprised grunt she had quickly recoiled. And Hawke paid for it dearly. Aedan kicked out at her, catching her right in the face. Her arms windmilled as she was knocked backwards.

"The nose again? That's just excessive," Hawke joked as she scrambled backwards to flee.

She wasn't nearly quick enough. Hawke couldn't help but let out a hoarse yell as Aedan took her own dagger and caught her in the calf. Her lightning strike this time reached its intended target. Aedan let go of the dagger and Hawke took the opportunity to run.

As she stumbled along she barely had enough time to yank the blade out of her calf. Hopefully Aedan bled out before she did, which was not a thought she'd ever thought she'd ever have to think. If she was going to fall apart every time she had to stab the man this was going to be a very long fight.

Aedan lunged after Rendon as he ran away and only succeeded in catching a face full of dirt. Swearing, he raised his eyes from the ground to search for the man and found himself staring into someone's black leather boot.

Placing both his hands on the ground, Aedan pushed himself off the ground. The effort made him wince. Rendon had managed to get a blow in. And Aedan's pride was only to blame.

But now was not the time to focus on his many faults. Someone new had entered the arena. Aedan focused pale eyes on the haughty form of a woman. Dark hair and dark makeup smeared over each eyelid. The woman was eerie if Aedan had to pick a word.

And somewhat familiar.

There was no time for that. Aedan tried to push past her, grunting, "Move. Now."

She did not. A well manicured hand shoved at his chest and, before he could respond, that same hand slapped him across the face. Hard enough to make him see stars.

Goddamn.

"What the hell was that for?" Aedan rubbed his jaw and glared. Rendon's getting away, a voice told him and yet something made him stay.

"Tis for being a moron," the woman sneered. "Something I'd expect from Alistair. Not from you." She walked past him, tracing a path across one shoulder and down his back with a painted nail. "Perhaps there is a first time for everything."

Morrigan. The name came to him suddenly and laced with regret. But how could she be here? In his home? Not a damn bit of this was making sense.

"He's finally starting to figure it out." Morrigan observed him passively. "If we're not in Highever then where exactly are we?"

It was like walking through fog, trying to think rationally in this place. "There's only one place we could be in where I wouldn't be certain where I was."

"There he is," Morrigan or what was passing as Morrigan smirked.

He had to be in the Fade. If he was filled with so much uncertainty that Aedan was certain where he was. "We're in the Fade." It wasn't a question; Aedan only wanted this spirit to know that they were on the same page. "And you're not Morrigan."

"How could you tell?" the spirit asked, not even attempting to keep up the pretense.

"Morrigan would have hit me harder." Aedan watched as the spirit faded into a wisp. "But I thank you all the same. You showed me true compassion."

"That was the intent."

Aedan stood still for a moment, applying pressure with the heel of his hand to the wound in his side. If he was in the Fade, then it wasn't Rendon who he had been chasing. Who had he tried to kill?

Who was trapped in there with him?

And who the fuck had stabbed him?

"Hawke, you dumb, magnificent bastard." She congratulated and insulted herself at the same time. She had a complicated relationship with herself.

The Warden had stopped chasing her ages ago and yet Hawke was perfectly content to hide behind a nice, mossy rock and wait it out. It wasn't because she was unable to run (limp) any further. Nah. It was simply a precaution. If she just sat tight and caught her breath, Hawke was sure she could come up with a fool-proof plan to outsmart the Warden. It was only a matter of time.

"I should have known that it'd be you."

Hawke nearly jumped out of her own skin. Aedan Cousland was standing over her, one hand pressed to a knife wound courtesy of herself.

Step one. Hide from Cousland. Step two. Kill said Cousland.

Failed step one.

Dammit, there were only two steps. How had she fucked up so badly?

He wasn't making a move, not yet, and that threw her off. Preparing to either raise a barrier or run, Hawke gave Aedan a curt nod. "What's up, good looking?" Her fingers tingled as she considered what spell to try first. Why wasn't he attacking? Had he broken free of the demon already? It would certainly make things much easier.

He was very monotone as he replied, "You stabbed me."

Of course he would focus on the negative. "You remember that, do you? Do you know who I am?"

"It's not very hard to forget." Aedan grimaced as he slid down next to her. Wait, was that the answer to her first or second question? What was it about the fade that made everyone so damn mysterious? Hawke watched him shift around a bit, still on edge. She could try to kill him now but if whatever she tried didn't kill him instantly... Aedan was much to close to risk it. Hawke would have to find a way to distance herself from him. A little bit of lightning might be enough to do it.

"Before you ask, you don't want me to try to heal that. I tried to heal Aveline once and I think I saw her almost tear up. And I know you really don't know Aveline but that's terrifying. It kept me up at night for nearly a week."

Hawke was blathering. She was also prepared to defend herself. Aedan could feel the tickle of electricity in the air; it made his short hair stand on end. Though she was reacting rather well to his sudden appearance considering he had been trying to kill her only minutes before. She had a very short memory. Or very select.

Speaking of memory, as Hawke continued to babble, Aedan tried to recall how he ended up in the fade. If he was correct, and he usually was, he had been brought into the fade alone. Which led him to believe that he was either sitting with a spirit in the form of the Champion or Hawke had somehow brought herself into the fade to find him.

And he had thanked her for that by trying to murder her.

He had been in the fade when he had first entered Ferelden's Circle, which had been probably the worst thing time he'd ever had in his life. And he had been to Orlais.

Aedan could vaguely remember a man named Niall, the one that sloth demon was using as a sort of power source. He had died after having been completely drained of life.

Perhaps he was dying as well.

"Stop talking."

Hawke snapped her mouth shut. Not because she was fine with people, particularly some blue-blooded warden, telling her what to do. It was more of the fact that she still wasn't sure Aedan was completely out of this guilt demon's hold. He hadn't said her name yet. Perhaps he still wasn't sure who or what he was talking to. But not trying to beat the living shit out of her was definitely a step in the right direction.

"Stop talking," Hawke repeated. "Got it. Just pretend I'm not even here. Let me fade into the background. Fade into the background. Ha ha."

Aedan's grimace was rather impressive. Sure, Hawke had seen better, but it was still rather good. He rubbed his temples and growled, "I truly believe the Maker created you specifically to torment me."

Well, that sounded like Aedan was back on the 'I think you slaughtered my family and I need to extract vengeance' whole bit. "Dear Maker, please tell me you don't still think I'm that Howe person."

She watched him reach into his overcoat pocket and pull out a bit of cloth. "I know you, Hawkling. Only you would laugh at your own pun for that long." He wiped at her face none too gently, cleaning off smeared blood and dirt. She leaned away, wincing. "Hold on, this is caked on."

"So you're you? I mean, you're really you? Say something only the real-"

"You live in the worst city in Thedas, you're a mediocre mage, your dancing will be talked about in Orlais for at least the next decade-"

She covered his mouth with her hand, smacking away his handkerchief in the process. "Okay, okay. That's enough of that."

He peeled her hand off him, holding her by the wrist. "But I didn't even get to your finer points." What a sarcastic shit.

"For some reason I don't think I want you to."

He was squeezing her wrist a little too tight. "Why would you come for me? I must be dying back home. What logical reason could there possibly be?"

Hawke clicked her tongue, shaking her head at him. "If you're assuming I work logically the fault is there. And you're not dying. I'm a blood mage, remember?"

He wasn't pleased at all at her obvious sacrifice. "That is foolish of you, Marian. Very dangerous. This could backfire on you in a hundred ways-"

"You are welcome, Warden," Hawke lathered on the sarcasm heavily. "My sincere apologies for trying to save your ass. Particularly your ass. I have mentioned that your backside if proof of a divine hand."

"Oh no, you've never mentioned that," Aedan muttered but Hawke couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "And I am grateful to you, even if you are being self destructive. But I've come to realize that that may be your natural state." He made an attempt to stand. Hawke let him try a few times before she helped him up.

She laughed dryly as he leaned against her for support. "Not that this little chat hasn't been fun, but it hasn't. The fade is the worst. Let's get you out of here."

He looked genuinely shocked at that, pale eyes flashing up to meet hers. "We haven't taken care of this demon yet. Granted it will be harder to do now that I am wounded. It will be safer, though, for our families, if we kill this demon here in the fade."

That didn't bode well. "We're both wounded and this demon's been playing the two of us like...something that is easily played with. I'm sorry, that one got away from me."

"I am not leaving." Maker's dangling sack, he was getting that damned look in his eyes again. There'd be no reasoning with him now. Aedan retorted, "People have died for this. More will die the more we stall."

Frowning, Hawke stood directly in front of him. "We cannot do this," she said, stretching up on her toes to fully catch his eye. "Perhaps you aren't dead yet, but you are fading. Please trust me on this." Couldn't he be selfish at least once? Or at least self-preserving?

Still he protested. "I cannot let anyone else-"

Oh, she was a fool. Hawke knew she had to kill him quickly and get the two of them out of there. So she kissed him.

She was already in his face, toes stretched to make her as tall as she could manage. Most of her work was already done for her. He certainly wasn't expecting it. When Hawke broke it off Aedan simply stared down at her, silent and...was he a little flushed? That could have been an infection setting in, on account of the dagger wound, but a girl could certainly dream.

"Well, that got you to shut up," Hawke laughed, crossing her arms behind her back. She was trying to hide her knife up her sleeve without him noticing. "I'd almost rather you say something. Actually, please say something. Anything."

He didn't say anything. Not unexpected, the man had never done as she asked before. Instead he craned his neck down enough to kiss her back. It was rather sweet and surprising and made Hawke feel worse as she wound one hand into his short hair and used the other to cut his throat.