Another shorter one. Apologies about that, but it's just how the story wants to go and I must abide by it!

Night time, The Fog Dream

Fenris woke up at his usual starting point. Darkness and fog ruled the dying forest, the light so far away. He missed that two-headed rooster now.

"We must return to the theatre," he said to the red band.

But it didn't say anything…

He swallowed his loneliness and marched on. He followed the trail of pain flowers through the dark forest, like before, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red braid snaking through the grass.

He rushed towards it, but it kept moving away from him. On and on it went, leaving him behind, as if it was allergic to him.

Then it was in a different place entirely. Or there were… two? No, three, four, eight different red braids, sneaking through the bushes, all going away as he tried to catch them, making him dizzy.

He wanted to scream, when a hand went gently on his shoulder. He saw a likeness of himself, wearing a little spiky crown with faded violets. "You do not want to do that…" he said.

"You're the… boring condom guy aren't you?" Fenris said, looking up at him.

"I believe you call me the boring band-aid bath guy," he said, soft-spoken. He was much taller than him. He had a short dark cape burnt at the edges and he had fully-plated dark grey armour. He looked like he had his shit together.

Fenris looked down at himself. He was still what Hawke called "The Lover". In fact, he had his new chestplate, making the pink heart have a nice dark indented edge to it.

"I call you the boring condom," another likeness of himself said in a gruff voice. He was topless in black trousers, and he looked like he just finished working out. He had two black straps in a criss-cross on his torso with daggers and grenades. He had black fingerless gloves and a spiky belt. He was leaning against a tree with crossed arms. "Because that is what you are."

"Hey, I came up with boring band-aid bath guy," a hard-up grinning lunatic said suddenly from behind. This one was also topless and had little black horns. His weapons were more… unconventional. A spiral of black rope on his belt and a pink dildo sticking out of a sheath that was too small for it. His real dick was stuck in the hollow of a tree.

"It's not a competition," the boring band-aid bath guy said.

The hand on Fenris's shoulder was calming and comforting and filled him with immense willpower. He needed to get back to the theatre. He needed to take to the stage. No more staying back and watching.

"Take the throne that is rightfully yours," the gruff one said with a fist.

"In a minute," the hard-up grinning lunatic said, trying and failing to free himself from his terrible choices.

"I wasn't talking to you, wanker," the gruff one said.

"Alright, shut up," Fenris commanded. "Everyone grab a braid when you see one."

"Or you could just follow the pain flowers," the boring band-aid bath guy said.

Thud!

"No! We need to find adora!" the hard-up grinning lunatic said, fallen on the ground and finally free. He buttoned up his trousers, but the top of his dick was sticking out. He stood up.

"Come on, man," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "Put that thing away."

The hard-up grinning lunatic looked down at himself and pulled up his trousers. It was still poking out a little. "Eh. It's fine," he said, brushing it off.

"Abandon this silly theatre thing. Let's find the Patriarch and destroy him once and for all," the gruff one said, raising the sword out of his sheath.

"Thank you for the suggestions," Fenris said flatly. "Do as I say."

The gruff one bumped his chest twice with his fist. "Respect."

They walked through the dark and deadly quiet rainforest. It wasn't a good sign.

"So… what… how…?" Fenris said.

"We are parts of you," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "You just hadn't been… in your own self enough to notice."

"I'm the best part. Obviously," the hard-up grinning lunatic said.

The gruff one scoffed.

"What about the… poet, and the half-blind man?" Fenris said.

"At a guess, the poet's stuck in the theatre with the others," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "And you do not wish to have the half-blind man at your side."

"He's pretty loud," Fenris agreed, thinking. "And an idiot."

"Don't be arrogant," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "Everyone serves a function."

"Fair enough," Fenris said, sighing.

"Wait, you're making this guy your lieutenant?" the gruff one said unhappily. "Surely you want someone tougher and stronger."

"No offense, tough guy, but this one crackles with restrained power," Fenris said.

The gruff one grunted, while the boring band-aid bath guy made a little modest smile.

"Why not me?" the hard-up grinning lunatic said. "I'll bring anyone to their knees."

"And make them suck your dick," Fenris said.

"True…" the hard-up grinning lunatic said, scratching his balls. "We'll be here all day."

"Braids!" the gruff one alerted. Like red serpents, they were going through the bushes, coiling around trees.

Everyone hunted their own. The hard-up grinning lunatic lassoed his rope at a braid and missed, the boring band-aid bath guy tried to negotiate with another one around a tree into giving its power, while the gruff one stepped on a braid and held it in place. "Done," he said.

"Excelle—" Fenris said, but in the next second, he was yanked away by the neck. He saw his brethren running after him, but they disappeared inside the fog.

A painful blink, and his vision was blurry. He was still in the dark foggy rainforest but… it was snowing. Another blink, and he saw Hawke in front of his eyes. The forest was coated in the white gleam of snow.

"Wakey, wakey," she said playfully.

"Thank the Maker," Fenris said, closing his eyes with relief.

But when he opened his eyes again, and saw her in earnest, Hawke had a dark red cape and hood over her head, two loose strands of hair in the front. She was dressed for the winter, in a dark wool dress with long sleeves ending in fingerless wool gloves. Over it was a leather corset, and she had dark grey tights in her big stompy boots. She had a little messenger bag, grey fur around her neck and her lips were dark red and cruelly playful. She had eight braids coming out of the hood, six of them binding his neck, wrists, torso and ankles to an upright, dark metal Chantry sun. The other two braids were levitating and hissing like serpents.

"No, thank you," she said with a smile in the falling slow.

"What are you?" Fenris demanded.

"I'm not taking questions right now," Hawke said, raising his chin with one of the levitating braids. "Are you?"

"Get lost," Fenris said gruffly.

"Nah. I like knowing where I am," Hawke said. "Would you like that privilege?"

"Where am I?" Fenris demanded.

"In a dream."

"Yeah, no shit."

Hawke chuckled cruelly. "You've been getting good at lucid dreaming. I'm impressed."

"There are only so many times one can have the same nightmare before one sees through the Veil," Fenris said.

"The Veil is necessary," Hawke said, winking. She walked away, her braids elongating comfortably, and she spun around casually. She raised her hands and made the realm shake, the snow falling from the trees on them both. "It shouldn't come crashing down."

"Never," Fenris said, shaking off the snow.

"But it'd be so fun," Ravena's voice came from one of the free braids. "Wouldn't it be fun, darling? You could finally live as a person, the way you always dreamed to."

"I don't know…" the other free braid said in Crowley's voice.

"You could have your own real house, your own real garden, you could be your own man…" the Ravena braid said, swaying around the Crowley braid. "No more playing pretend… You've trained for it your whole life with Hawke."

"You… have a point…" the Crowley braid said weakly.

"All you need to do is wait for the next crisis, and use your influence as her eldest to convince her it's a good idea. You have been at her side for so long, people might not even notice a difference," the Ravena braid said, bobbing her head towards Hawke. "After all, who knows her better than you?"

"I do," Fenris said. "She wouldn't do that. She is not weak."

"Isn't she?" the Ravena braid said, coming at him. It almost had something like a face, and its teeth were sharp. "If you say you know her so well, then you know she has weaknesses. Blind spots. Like… who knows? A burning village? Her family?"

"She didn't do it then, she wouldn't do it now," Fenris said flatly.

"True," the Crowley braid said, tilting his head. "She has a weakness for family and people, but ultimately, that is what makes her strong."

"Stellar point, darling. You are so very wise," the Ravena braid said, coming back to her lover. She turned her tail towards Fenris. "What becomes of Hawke if she ends up alone?"

"What becomes of her when her freedom is taken away?" the Crowley braid said.

The metal Chantry sun Fenris was bound to started shining and burning him. A Chantry bell tolled through the dark forest, causing a roaring blizzard. Hawke fell on her knees, hugging herself.

"Alone," the Ravena braid said.

"Alone," the Crowley braid said.

"Alone," the Patriarch's deep voice resounded through the forest. He was standing tall in wolf form behind the despairing Hawke. His giant shadow coated her, the full crimson eyes opening in the falling snow. "Left to a Templar to do with her as he pleases."

"No…" Fenris said softly.

Hawke hugged herself even more tightly. The shadow of a Templar came on her, and his eyes opened, red and vengeful. Her half-open eyes gave her the look of a dead woman. But she was in there… and she was not enjoying herself. She screamed the world's most terrifying scream.

"Stop!" Fenris shouted in tears, but it was useless. He couldn't free himself. He too was all alone.

Her eyes became fully black as she looked up, and a third one opened on her forehead. The Templar shadow got his neck snapped from nowhere, and disappeared.

"Stop this…" Fenris said, crying as his head fell in defeat. "Please… just stop."

"See what becomes of you when you make love your resistance?" the Patriarch said. "A bleating child, weak and soft. You do not have the strength to do what must be done."

"I… No…" Fenris said, his tears falling in the snow below him. "I can't…"

"Do not despair, little wolf," the Patriarch said, assuming Fenris's form in a black shadow silhouette with the crimson eyes. He took out his sword and put it around Hawke's neck, making her stand in front of him. The Patriarch tilted his head over her shoulder and looked at Fenris. "Daddy's here to take care of it."

This… this is why it bothered him when she called him that. He couldn't shift the meaning. This asshole ruined it from the start. He thought he was the all-knowing, all-powerful father. That he knew better, what was good for him.

"You know what happens to naughty mages?" the Patriarch said to Abomination Hawke as he held her from behind.

"Stop!" Fenris yelled.

"They get…" the Patriarch said, slitting her throat with no compassion or remorse, "… what they deserve."

"Thank you, Daddy…" Abomination Hawke said, falling dead in the snow. The blood bloomed around her like a pain flower.

"No!" Fenris shouted with all his being. "I will kill you. I will fucking kill you!"

"Good luck with that, little wolf," the Patriarch said, stabbing the sword in the snow beside him as he held onto it. "While we're waiting for that day to come, I urge you to revisit your sensibilities. Because when this day comes," he said, pointing to the dead possessed Hawke bleeding towards him, "you must be prepared for it. She will not look the part, just like that garbage mage didn't in the tunnel. She will be smart about it, escape the Circle, and find you. And then what will you do?"

"I will… I will try to help her," Fenris said, breathing heavily. "I will find a way to return her back to herself."

The Patriarch laughed a low timbre laugh. "Do not fool yourself with thinly veiled illusions," he said. The blood was reaching Fenris's feet, and his legs trembled. Every organ inside him hurt, as if they each played their own nasty little song. But his heart, that one was the destroyer, the bane of all happiness. "There is no returning from this."

"We can come back from this…" Fenris said, in barely more than a whisper.

"You're not coming back from shit," the Patriarch said, almost laughing. "Look at you. Crying and thrashing and acting like a wounded puppy. Who are you kidding? She will destroy you."

The blood reached his feet, and immediately he hissed and curled into himself. He couldn't take it. Her hand was in the red snow. He couldn't, couldn't, couldn't—

"Do you love her?" the Patriarch said.

A painful cringe inside every vein, strangling his heart. Burning.

The Patriarch stepped over her and came to slap him. "Do you love her?" he growled.

"I love her!" Fenris growled back at him.

"Then you must distance yourself," the Patriarch said. "Watch over her from afar. You will not be able to do what must be done like this. Who else do you think will do it? Varric? Who can't even speak his mind? Aveline? The one who is scarred for life having put that sword through her husband?"

The realisation was so painful he couldn't take it. Fenris cried and his head fell back on the metal. He didn't want to open his eyes.

"Open your eyes, boy!" the Patriarch demanded, his claw digging in his face. "Your blindness will be the death of you!"

"No," Fenris said with a grimace.

"This is for your own good," the Patriarch said.

"No," Fenris cried, shaking his head.

"I am not your enemy!" the Patriarch said angrily. "I am your protector! All that I am, all that I do, I do for you, child!"

"No, you don't…" Fenris said, refusing to open his eyes.

"But I do. It is the whole reason I exist, you foolish boy!" the Patriarch said.

"You want me to be miserable," Fenris said weakly.

"I want you to survive, child!" the Patriarch growled. "Maker be my witness; I will not let you be a fool and make the same mistake again!"

"What mistake?" Fenris said.

Silence. The blizzard howled without another sound.

"Do you really wish to remember?" the Patriarch said.

"No…" Fenris said.

"That's right," the Patriarch said. "You do not wish to remember. That is why I am the Patriarch, and you are the little wolf. You are a child and cannot take any of this. But I can. I keep every death with me."

Because I keep every death with me, Hawke's voice resounded crisp and clear through the forest, a memory. It was when they met. She helped him, he was an asshole, then he helped her find her grandparents' will. Morning came and she invited him into her home, so he'd get something to eat other than demon spit. If you want to share that burden, be ready to take it!

Everyone in the house was chilled by her sudden stern tone, her cold manner of being. He wished to know what it was all about. And now he knew.

It was the voice of a mother, who could take anything and everything.

"Please, stop…" Fenris said.

"Then open your eyes."

"I can't…"

"Open them, child."

"I can't!" Fenris cried. He went on and on, the tears were infinite.

"Very well," the Patriarch said softly. The blizzard stopped. "I will make you a deal. If you cease with your fool's journey, when the time comes—and you know it's coming with her reckless war against the Chantry—I will slay her for you… No more the weak one. No more the frightened one… I will rise above and do it for you. You will not remember. You will leave the city and I will make you forget…"

Fenris didn't speak. He wanted to die. He just wanted it all to stop.

"I will give you that sweet oblivion, child…" the Patriarch said, soft-spoken. "You have my word."

He wanted to say yes. He was going to say yes.

"Hey, Daddy?" he heard himself say suddenly.

Fenris opened his eyes. The hard-up grinning lunatic was behind the Patriarch. When the latter looked behind him, the horned elf slammed the Patriarch in the face with the pink dildo. The Patriarch tripped sideways, and a sword came out of his chest from the gruff one behind him. The hard-up grinning lunatic lassoed his rope around the Patriarch and tied him up against a tree. The boring band-aid bath guy was beside Fenris. A hand on his shoulder. "Let go," he said.

"Let go? I'm bound," Fenris said.

"She is gone," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "You are the one not letting go."

Fenris looked at the braids around his limbs. "I don't… I…"

"It's not real. None of this is real," the boring band-aid bath guy said. "Let go."

Fenris closed his eyes, remembering this was all just a horrible nightmare. Images came up, a lazy morning in bed. Hawke was beside him, her hair messed up all over the pillow and she was smiling. The chilly morning sun was darting through the window, through the flowerpots. He was laughing.

The braids came off him. He was free.

The Patriarch laughed inside his bindings. "You will not be free. If you go down this fool's path, the only freedom you can kiss is in the next world, to Fuck-All-Borough!"

"That's enough out of you..." Fenris said, nodding towards the hard-up grinning lunatic. He made the rope go over the Patriarch's mouth.

A Chantry bell tolled a hard, ominous sound as the blizzard came back.

"I am nothing and everything," the Patriarch's deep voice resounded through the forest. "I am nowhere and everywhere."

The shadows of the trees started moving and taking three-dimensional shapes. The short wolf-headed mortal shadows. They descended into battle. The gruff one snapped arms and necks, the hard-up grinning lunatic beat the shadows with his dildo, the boring band-aid bath guy used steady, controlled swordsmanship, and Fenris ripped their hearts out.

"I don't remember…" Hawke's voice came from behind. Fenris immediately looked back and abandoned the battle. She was waking up.

Fenris fell in the snow and hugged her tightly. "It's alright."

"I can't remember…" Hawke said over his shoulder.

He took her face in his hands.

His heart sank with a low, deep thud.

She was no longer an abomination. She had a Chantry sun brand on her forehead. She was Tranquil. She looked exactly like herself, and yet she was somebody else. But it wasn't on the surface. She had no happiness, no humour. She had no love for him, no emotion, no soul.

The Chantry bell tolled.

"I'm cold…" Hawke said softly.

Fenris's neck trembled, as did his hands on her face. His own face started spasming out of control. Seeing her die had been the worst thing he'd ever witnessed… until now. She was worse than dead. She was a ghost.

THERE ARE TWO DARKEST TIMELINES, LITTLE WOLF! the half-blind man's voice resounded through the chaos, a memory. WHICH ONE WILL SWALLOW ALL THE LIGHT?

This one...

"Snap out of it!" the boring band-aid bath guy shouted as he fought the shadows.

"I want to go back to the Circle," Hawke said monotonously.

It wasn't her anymore. He was hearing someone else.

"This isn't real!" the boring band-aid bath guy shouted.

"I must serve my lord Templar," Hawke said, staring straight through him.

Lungs shut down. His throat reached maximum contraction, his heart a graveyard.

"Over my dead body," he said, taking her arms to stand up. He needed to take her away from here. He needed to find shelter. He needed to protect her.

"Take him!" the gruff one shouted. "This fucker is done for!"

He felt the boring band-aid bath guy's plated armour wrap around him, pulling him away. "You must return to the theatre!"

"No!" Fenris shouted, thrashing against him as he was being dragged away.

She was all alone, in the snow.

"It's for your own good!" the boring band-aid bath guy said.

She was helpless and heartless and so, so alone.

Night time, Fenris's Mansion

"Noooooooooo!" Fenris screamed, waking upright in sweat and tears.

He couldn't… he couldn't breathe. His chest was heaving uncontrollably.

The bedroom might as well have been upside down.

He sat at the edge of the bed, hugging the purple pillow, burying his face in it.

He cried. He cried so hard there was nothing coming out of him but painful howls.

Night time, The Hawke Estate

Fenris couldn't stay in that house anymore. He couldn't see her either. He didn't… he didn't know what to do. He just wandered in the night with no thought or plan, tripped on himself and ripped his trouser leg in a fence, and ended up at her door.

"Why don't you lock your door, Hawke…?" Fenris said disapprovingly, going inside the mansion.

In the first hallway, on the little bench on the left, under a big, dirty coat, someone was sleeping. They were waking up now.

"Do not make another move," Fenris commanded. Except… he didn't have his sword. His hand went through the air, grasping at nothing.

"I got 'ere first, laddie," a random Fereldan woman said, her coat falling off her. Her hair was a wavy amber mess. She looked poor. She looked homeless.

"Get out," Fenris said.

"It's cold," the woman said, putting the coat back on herself and turning her back on him on the bench.

I'm cold… Hawke's soulless voice and eyes flashed before his own.

He swallowed it.

"I don't care. This isn't your home," Fenris said flatly.

"Excuse me, Sir Cuntbag, but oi have a right to be 'ere," she said, showing him the middle finger through her ragged fingerless gloves.

The wool fingerless glove on her hand, on the snow, in the blood…

He closed his eyes and breathed in.

"Says who?" he said.

"Says the lady 'erself," she said without turning to him.

Fenris tried the next door, to the main hall. That one was locked. A dog barked in the night.

"There's another bench on your right," the homeless woman said. "You ain't getting this one."

"I don't need shelter," Fenris said flatly.

The homeless woman turned around, giving him a confused look. "Then why do you look like that?"

"Like what?" he said. He looked around for a reflective surface.

"Like yer 'omeless..." she said, looking up at him.

He saw himself through the gong. His hair was completely messed up, and he was topless. He had bitten his lip in his sleep. It was all swollen and cracked. He looked tired, broken, lost.

At least he had pajama bottoms, ripped as they were…

"Maybe I am…" Fenris said softly, curling up on the other bench to sleep.