HAWKE

She sat by the fireplace turning another page of the book she held in her hand. It was an outline for a novel about her adventures. Before she turned the next page she glanced at the cover. "Tale of the Champion." Title was pretty good, but the things Varik wrote in there made her laugh hysterically at times. Dwarf had an imagination, she had to give him that.

Her blue gaze returned to the contents of the book. Sleeping by her feet, the mabari muttered something. She glanced at him and smiled. Suddenly the dog's ears snapped and he raised his head abruptly. He looked around the room alertly and barked throatily. Hawke put down the book and stroked her pet.

- Take it easy boy. You must have had a dream. - she said in a calm voice. But mabari did not relax. The muscles in his neck were like a rock. The dog stood up abruptly and ran to the door. Quiet growls had already turned into loud barking. Dog's concentrated eyes were looking at the door handle and then at its owner. The animal obviously wanted Hawke to follow him. Marian furrowed her brow and rose from her chair. Could it be that they had an intruder? She grabbed the daggers lying next to her bed and went after the dog. As soon as she opened the door the animal shot out like a slingshot heading straight for the basement entrance. She tucked one dagger into her belt and with her free hand grabbed a small lantern hanging from a long nail. She carefully opened the door letting the mabari go ahead. The dog ran down the stairs and disappeared into the darkness of the basement. She followed him slowly. Her left hand wielded a dagger ready to fend off a potential attack. Her right hand held a lit lantern illuminating her path. The damn thing didn't give much light, but without it, she would be completely blind. The wooden stairs creaked under her weight. When she was at the bottom, she called quietly to her dog.

- Ori. Ori where are you?

After a moment she whistled. In response, she heard a quiet whine somewhere a few steps ahead of her. She squeezed her dagger and headed in the direction of the sound. When she reached her dog the lantern almost fell out of her hand. Her legs went soft. She recognized him at once.

- Anders. - she whispered. The mage was lying on his back, not moving. The coppery smell of blood filled the air. Ori stood over him and, whimpering softly, licked his face gently as if that would wake the man. Marian quickly hung her lantern on one of the nearby nails and, tucking her other dagger behind her belt, knelt beside the mage. Mabari stepped back slightly and put his head against Anders' head. The quiet whimpering stopped. Hawke supported her body on her right hand momentarily feeling the wetness under her fingers. She lifted her hand. The liquid, brown in this light, glazed over. She looked at the floorboards. The puddle of moisture wasn't large, but still, fear entered her mind like a hurricane. Her breathing quickened and her heart began pounding like crazy.

- Maker, don't let the worst happen. - she whispered. She wiped her fingers on her pants and put two of them on the mage's neck. She breathed slightly when she felt a faint pulse. Blue gaze went to his calm face. Another spike of fear entered her mind. Sweet Andraste, he was so pale. Dark circles bloomed under his eyes. A quick inspection gave her a preliminary picture. A broken arrowhead of a bolt protruded from between the ribs of his right side. The gray piece of silk with which the spar was wrapped was almost entirely soaked in blood. By the Maker, she wasn't a mage, she wasn't even a medic. She had no idea what to do. Blue gaze returned to his still unnaturally pale face. She put her right hand to his cheek and shook it slightly.

- Anders. Anders, wake up I beg you. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you.

She heard her voice tremble more and more with each successive word and her throat tighten relentlessly. She screamed in anger when he didn't respond. He was always the one who dressed their wounds. He was the one who always knew how to act. Now that he needed help himself she didn't know how to give it to him. She was a master at taking lives. He was the one who always saved them.

She heard someone calling her name. The voice came from somewhere above. After a moment she recognized Varric.

- Varric! Varric I'm here!

The mabari responded to her raised voice by barking. She looked at her animal companion and said: - Ori, go get him.

At her words, the dog rose abruptly and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, which seemed like an eternity, he returned, leading the dwarf with him.

- Hawke, my book couldn't be that bad to bury me in your basement for it. If you want I can do something... - he fell silent in mid-sentence when he saw the Champion kneeling on the floor. She was holding the unconscious Anders' head in her lap and her blue eyes were filled with fear.

- Blondie? - muttered the dwarf and quickly approached Hawke. - Andraste's ass what happened?

- I found him here in this state a while ago. Someone shot him with a hand crossbow. It doesn't look good, Varric. - the last sentence ended in a shaky voice.

A broken piece of bolt lying nearby caught the dwarf's eye. He picked it up and looked at the ornate feathers finishing the spar.

- Templars. - he muttered under his breath. - Damn, they must have sniffed him out eventually.

Hawke carefully placed Anders' head on the floor and rose.

- We need to get him out of here. Help me.

The dwarf just sighed and nodded. As gently as they could they transported the mage to her bedroom and laid him on the bed. Hawke stood still and, staring into Anders' face, tried to get her breathing under control. Varric measured her with his eyes and furrowed his brow. He had never seen her so helpless. He looked at the motionless mage. Blondie looked really bad and if they don't do something he will extinguish like a burned candle. He heard Hawke loudly draw in and let out the air. Determination returned to her blue eyes. She walked over to a small cabinet and, opening its wooden door in a vigorous motion, reached for one of the many bottles inside. She walked over to the bed with it and, grabbing the mage's cheek once more, shook it lightly.

- Anders. Anders, wake up. This is elven root extract. You must at least take a sip.

Seeing no reaction she put the bottle down. Maker, she felt so useless.

- Do you have anything that will temporarily restore his senses? - the dwarf asked. She turned to him and measured him with a questioning gaze. - Some kind of sobering salts?

She frowned in thought. After a moment, she approached the cupboard, rummaging through it with such eagerness that she nearly broke the bottles inside. Sensing her unease, Ori barked several times. Varik approached the creature, calming it.

The sound of the bottles bumping into each other died away suddenly. Hawke clenched another potion in her hand and walked over to the bed.

- Hold his other hand Varik. If he makes too sudden movements he will make the situation even worse.

The dwarf walked over to the bed and followed the instructions. Hawke uncorked the bottle. A pungent peppery smell wafted through the air.

- Oh Maker. - muttered Varric almost choking. - This has to work.

Marian slowly put the mouth of the bottle into Anders' nose and waved it a few times. There was no reaction. After a moment she repeated the action. She gnashed her teeth when the effect was the same. She squeezed the flask harder, applying it a third time. Suddenly the mage's eyelids twitched slightly. Seeing this, Hawke did not take the potion away and continued. Anders furrowed his forehead and groaned quietly. He slowly turned his head as if he wanted to get away from the source of the unpleasant smell. His breathing quickened slightly. Suddenly his eyes opened abruptly and he jerked up on the bed. Varric and Hawke held him in place.

Honey's lost gaze looked around. The Champion leaned over him, drilling him with her blue eyes.

- Hawke. - he said weakly. He furrowed his brow and clenched his teeth. His right side burned like hot iron.

- Anders, please drink this. Just a sip.

She put one hand under his head lifting it slightly. With the other, she held the dark glass to his lips. She watched the mage swallow the bitter liquid with difficulty. His strength surge was negligible, but in his situation, it was still a success.

- Anders. - she said in a warm voice. - You must tell me how to help you.

He reluctantly opened his eyes. She could see in his gaze that the memories of recent events were hazy.

- How... how does it look like? - he finally cried out.

- Well, Blondie. There's a piece of a bolt from a templar crossbow sticking out of your right side. You look like a ghost yourself and I think you have bloodied Hawk's best bedsheets. - said the dwarf in his sarcastic voice. Hawk looked at him indulgently.

Anders took a shallow breath. He wasn't coughing up blood, which was a good sign, but the heat and cold he felt at the same time were not. He remembered the crack of the spar just before he fell and lost consciousness. He hoped that the metal head from the crossbow bolt had not done much more damage.

- Need to remove... - he muttered.

- The remains of the bolt. - Marian finished in understanding. She rubbed her forehead with the top of her right hand. - Sweet Maker, how can I do that Anders? - the slight panic returned to her voice.

- Royal... elf... root. It will help stop the... bleeding. Felandaris... for the pain.

He closed his eyes visibly relaxing his muscles.

- Anders? Anders, don't fall asleep! - yelled Hawke shaking him slightly. He wrinkled his forehead and opened his eyelids again. He wasn't looking at her. His gaze stayed on the canopy of the bed.

- Head of the bolt... did it go in deep? - he asked mechanically.

Hawke took a closer look at the shredded spar.

- About ten centimeters. - she concluded after a moment.

- The spar... how far does it extend beyond the wound? - he asked another question.

- Not very much. - Hawke answered again.

- I found a large piece on the basement floor. - said Varric. - Your unfortunate fall must have broken it.

Anders closed his eyes for a moment and made a sour face. Hawke trembled. It wasn't a good sign.

- We're going to need some tools... some pliers... the wound will also need to be incised.

He closed his eyes again.

Hawke gnashed her teeth. Maker's breath, he will not survive this. Anders needed a healer, not an amateur like her.

- Hawke. - she heard beside her. Varric held her arm. - We can do this. Blondie will make it. We need to prepare what he asked for.

She sighed quietly once more gathering her strength.

- Bodhan will stay with him. - she declared. - I must go to the Lady Elegant. She should have the necessary herbs.

Varric shook his head in disapproval.

- Half of the Order is probably looking for him now. They know he's injured so they'll be monitoring all the suppliers. I'll handle it through my contacts. You stay here with him.

The Champion only nodded as she heard the dwarf walked away. She turned back towards Anders. The mage looked like he already had one foot in the grave. She propped her elbows against the edge of the bed and covered her face into her palms. She sighed loudly then shifted her gaze to the mage again. Drops of sweat glazed the tortured face. Hawke once again looked at the spar stuck in his side. The gray blood-soaked piece of cloth had already stiffened. Fortunately, she didn't see any new marks, which suggested that the bleeding had stopped, at least for now.

She recalled one of their conversations, ending in a terrible argument. Hawke had once again tried to dissuade Anders from his insane plans to start a revolution. What did he say to her then?

- "How can you be so antagonistic by day and so passionate by night? You will understand when it's me Meredith is coming for."

The memory of those words pricked like a thorn. She understood.

- I'm sorry. - it broke out of her. She grasped his inert hand. It was as hot as an oven. She bit her lip. When her mother died at the hands of the mad mage, she argued with him one last time. Powerlessness had driven her to fury, and he had been on hand to vent her pent-up emotions. She shouted in his face that mages should be locked in the Circles. Maker's breath she regretted that so much. After all, she had lost her sister to the Circle.

Her touch made Anders twitch slightly. His eyelids opened and Honey's gaze fixed on the canvas of the canopy. His ribs rose and fell in shallow nervous breaths. He looked as if he had diverted all his will to this basic activity. "Maker, don't take him away from me too." - she begged in her mind. A long nervous night awaited her.