Chapter THIRTY-ONE
It was hot out. Way too bloody hot. Aria decided she hated the Wounded Coast. Weren't coastlines supposed to be mild in climate? They were in Ferelden. Apparently nearly everything about Kirkwall was designed to incessantly invoke misery.
The day had been a useless trek into hard terrain under a cruel, unrelenting sun. She just had to find that damned flower for her Formari herbalist friend in the Gallows. Along with Anders, he'd been smuggling letters and money to Bethany for Aria, and from Bethany, Aria got her prized soaps and lotions. She'd tried some of the things the other craftswomen in both Lowtown and Hightown had offered, but they just weren't as good. Bethany was an artist.
"How can you stand wearing all that armour in this heat?" Merrill asked Fenris.
Aria had brought Anders and Merrill for their arcane knowledge of the different herbs. Apparently this flower was extremely rare and it was hard to discern from other similarly appearing plants. She'd needed the trained eyes of the mages. She almost never went anywhere without Fenris.
"It's hotter where I come from," Fenris resignedly answered her.
"Do you like it then?"
"No."
"Do you like anything? Besides Hawke, obviously," Merrill snarkily goaded him.
"I like quiet," Fenris growled.
Behind them, Anders chuckled. Aria couldn't help the giggle that rose in her own throat. The sound literally perked Fenris's ears and the corner of his mouth tentatively tugged upward the slightest bit. He put his arm around her shoulders and briefly touched his lips to the top of her head before he released her again and went back to scouting ahead of the group.
"I don't understand," Merrill said, shaking her head once Fenris had disappeared from view over the next knoll.
"What?" Aria asked. She looked back at Anders, who was smiling and shaking his head.
"He's so... Mean. And he has the emotional capability of a Golem," Merrill said. "I just wish he'd be nice for once."
Aria sighed. "Merrill, that's like asking a miner to get ore using nothing but a hammer. All you're going to do is break your hammer. Or your hand. Take your pick."
"You help mages. Your sister is a mage. Your father was a mage. Your best friends are mages. He hates magic. Hates it! To his very bones! And yet... He loves you," Merrill groused.
Anders chuckled at this. "He just likes women who can kick his ass. With or without their clothes on."
Aria threw a pebble at him for that remark, but the blushing smile on her face told them she wasn't going to comment on the subject, neither to negate nor prove it. They crested the hill and Aria groaned in agony at the sight before them.
Miles of hot, dusty trail that went up and down and to and fro haphazardly. She could see the heat of the earth distorting the air around it in shimmering waves. Kirkwall rose a few miles in the distance, its white and black spires undulating on the horizon. She looked to her right, where the cliff edge gave way to the sky, and twenty feet or so below that, waves of cool, beautiful water crashed against the rock. White spray lifted high enough to gently spatter her face.
"Don't even think about it," Anders softly said by her ear. "At least, not at this juncture."
Aria swatted him on the chest. "I'm not daft."
"What?" Merrill asked, joining them. She looked down at the water as longingly as Aria had. "Ooooh, but a nice dip would really lift our spirits. Not here though."
"Not here, though," Aria laughingly parroted.
They continued on for a couple of miles before they reached a softer slope to the water, and where the waves wouldn't drown them against the rocks. They all stripped down to their underarmour and waded out into the small cove. The water wasn't as cool as Aria had hoped, but it was better than the cloying, stifling heat of the road.
Once they were refreshed, they continued back to Kirkwall, reaching the gate by early afternoon. Aria had an audience with the Viscount to attend that evening. Rumour had it his son had gone to the Qunari compound to commit himself to their one-track way of thinking. Aria had "rescued" Seamus from them once before, and had urged the young man to speak his mind to his father. Ascribing to her own sense of individualism and freedom of thought often made her into somewhat of a political headache. Secretly, she enjoyed being an agent of chaos.
This time however, was different. Sister—Mother—Petrice, a revered follower of the Chantry, had once employed Aria and charged her with the task of smuggling a Qunari Sarebas, their shackled version of mages, out of Kirkwall. The task had been a set-up, meant to incite hostilities between the Chantry's faithful and the Qunari zealots. Except, Petrice hadn't counted on Aria's survival. Now, rumours of the Chantry's involvement in provoking war with the unwelcome foreigners had grown to incidences.
Last week, Aria led Varric, Anders, and Fenris into a Darktown meeting where Petrice's former body guard was holding a rally. At the Viscount's behest, Aria sought to locate delegates from the Arishok who had gone missing straight from the Keep. Petrice's body guard, Ser Varnell, had abducted them and murdered them before Aria could stop him. Varnell paid for his crimes, but still Petrice eluded her.
She didn't want to deal with it, but eventually something was going to break. Aria's money was on the Viscount, with his severe lack of backbone. The Arishok would crush him, for sure. And this rumour of the son going to the Qunari was foreboding. If Aria hadn't known better, she'd have thought the Arishok had this pawnsplay planned out well in advance.
"Do you wish me to join you this evening?" Fenris asked as he prepared to leave her at her doorstep.
"Yes," Aria instantly replied, tucking a particularly long stray lock of his reckless hair behind his ear.
"I'll...make myself presentable then," he wryly chuckled as he caught her hand and grazed his lips across her knuckles.
"Meet me here in a couple hours," she said with a girlish smile.
"That long?"
"You can come whenever you like. I will not be meeting the Viscount for another couple of hours," Aria stated, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lingeringly on the lips.
"I'll be right back," Fenris murmured when she pulled away, nudging the tip of her nose with his before he darted off in the direction of his mansion.
Aria watched him go, then saw several nobles in the square had turned to witness the display. A few ladies covered their mouths theatrically with their hands. The elderly ladies clicked their tongues and shook their heads with disapproval. One man near her spat at the ground, cursing the bloody knife-ears.
"Haven't you got your own lives to live?" Aria yelled at them, her glare a challenge to anyone who didn't immediately mind their own damn business. She slammed the door as she went inside, muttering to herself. "Blue-blooded, self-righteous, hypocritical, nonsensical, dull-witted, loose-lipped, conniving..."
"It's good to see you too," Gamlen's voice greeted her ears when she tromped into the study.
"Ugh!" Aria huffed, slumping down into the chair by the hearth. "Put this fire out! For the love of the Maker it's a thousand degrees in here!" She started stripping off her armour. "Hello Uncle. To what do I owe the...pleasure?"
"I was supposed to have lunch with Leandra today, but she never showed. Do you know where she is?" Gamlen asked. The true note of worry his tone eluded to sent a cool wave of dread down her spine.
"No, uncle. I'm sorry. I've been out..." she grunted and tugged off a boot, which she promptly whipped across the room, "all day and have a dinner to attend with the Viscount. In a little while."
"Blast! Probably went off with that suitor, then," Gamlen grumbled.
"Suitor?" Aria asked, incredulous. "What suitor?"
"Mistress, Lady Leandra received those white lilies," Bodahn informed her. "With as socially active as the Lady is, I figured she'd garnered some attention at last.
"Wait, what? Mother never told me about a man," Aria grumpily murmured as she fought with the other boot. She stopped suddenly and sat bolt upright. "White lilies?"
"Yes-" Bodahn started to say, but Hawke ran and retrieved the boot and tugged it back on. She hastily re-donned every battle implement and went over to her weapon rack. She yanked out the two new daggers she'd just bought a few days ago and tossed one to Sandal. "Striking, Fire on that one, Devastation and Nature on the other. Bodahn, get Fenris. Now. Tell him it's urgent," Aria barked.
"You were just kissing the face off that elf but ten seconds ago—he probably hasn't even made it home yet," Gamlen sniggered.
"Shut up, or so help me I'll gut you. Now is not the time," Hawke venomously snarled. She turned to Orana, her tone sweet and sincere as she said, "Be a dear and run to get Aveline, the Guard-Captain. Tell her to send a message to the Viscount—I've an emergency to tend to, then tell her to send for Varric, and to meet me here as quickly as possible."
"Yes Mistress," Orana promptly replied, fleetly running for the door, Bodahn hot on her heels.
"Aria, what in the Maker's name is going on?" Gamlen asked, his voice shaken. He sat down in the chair she vacated while she paced in front of the still-lit hearth.
"I need...I need... Anders! Shit, I forgot to have her send for Anders!" Aria bolted for the cellar, where she knew the tunnels in the sewers would take her straight to Darktown, just outside the clinic. Gamlen followed her as quickly as he could and she was forced to slow down for him.
"Andraste's ass, Aria! What's wrong?" Gamlen hollered as they surfaced by the clinic.
"Mother. He's got Mother," Aria spat, then ran for the clinic.
Anders greeted her at the door, staff in hand. "Maker! What is all the—Aria?"
"Come with me. Now!" Aria said, sliding to a halt in front of him, only to jet back towards the sewers.
Anders bolted after her, glaring at Gamlen as he ran past. They didn't wait for him. They ran all the way back to the mansion, emerging from the cellar just as Fenris and Aveline came in.
"Where's Varric?" Aria asked, her limbs starting to tremble. Adrenaline-fueled anxiety thrummed through her veins. She gracelessly sat down in the chair, nearly sending it over backwards.
"Donnic is getting him now. Hawke, what happened?" Aveline replied.
"Remember that serial killer? The one we thought was Gascard duPuis?" Aria asked. Her voice shook.
"Yes, you killed him. I remember," Aveline answered, her eyes wide in alarm. "What happened?"
"Didn't the killer send white lilies to all his intended victims?" Aria asked, then pointed to the vase on the table across the room.
Aveline's face drained of colour. Anders clapped a hand over his mouth. Fenris strode over to Aria and knelt next to her.
"We'll find her," he vowed.
"Yes, we will," Aveline agreed from next to him.
Anders went over to the flowers and started inspecting them. They were not native to Kirkwall, he surmised. They grew only in the Frostback Mountains, in Ferelden. He'd seen them before, once, while traveling the Deep Roads and running from the Templars.
"These are...very hard to come by," Anders mused.
"They're Frost Lilies," Aveline said, helping Hawke to her feet.
"You've seen them before?" Anders asked her, touching the petal of one.
"They're nearly every woman in Ferelden's favourite," Aria grimaced.
Fenris gently took Aria's shoulders. "We will find her."
Aria nodded, then abruptly turned as the front door flew open. Donnic and Varric trotted in, their expressions full of worry.
"What's happened?" Varric breathlessly asked as he stopped in front of Hawke. He doubled over, heavily winded from the run he and Donnic made.
"Leandra's missing. She was said to have had a suitor, who sent her white lilies this afternoon," Anders filled them in.
Varric straightened and he leveled his gaze on Anders. "Blondie, did you just say white lilies?"
Anders solemnly nodded.
"We've got to hurry," Varric pressed then, looking to Hawke. His eyes softened. "We'll find her, Hawke. But we aren't going to accomplish anything by just standing around here."
Aria jerked her chin up defiantly and went over to the work desk where Sandal was just putting the finishing touches on the runes in her new daggers. She took them and whirled them around in complex kata. They possessed superb balance and felt lighter, but more lethal than her last set. The blades had been honed so keenly, they could have split the hair from a sprite's head. She sheathed them on her back and strode to the front door.
"Fenris, Anders, Varric, on me. Aveline, I want you and Donnic to start canvasing the neighbourhood, see if you can find someone who knows something," Aria barked as her fingers plucked at the bracers she wore around her forearms, tightening the laces down again.
"Right away, Hawke. I'll dispatch two patrols, have them start searching Darktown and Lowtown," Aveline replied with celerity. She and Donnic ran out the door, back towards the barracks to raise the alarm.
"DuPuis had leads to a foundry in Lowtown," Varric said as they left Hawke's estate and headed for Lowtown.
"That narrows our search down to about ten buildings," Aria snorted, keeping her pace to a brisk jog so that the dwarf could keep up.
"That's better than anywhere in Kirkwall," Varric retorted.
"I know, I'm…sorry. I just have to find her before we're too late," Aria recanted.
They ran down the steps into Lowtown and saw Gamlen quarreling with a street urchin near Lady Elegant's potion stand.
"Wait, wait!" Gamlen pleaded. "You said you saw her?"
"I told you!" the dirt-covered little boy yelled back. "I told you already! I saw her!"
"Did you see where she went?" Gamlen prodded.
The boy looked at the four new arrivals with growing suspicion. His eyes narrowed momentarily at Hawke before he turned to glare back expectantly at Gamlen. "What do I get for telling you?"
Aria tossed the kid a coin purse. "Silver. Get yourself some food and new shoes," she distractedly stated.
The boy caught the purse and hastily counted the silvers, his eyes going wide. "Oh! That's real silver, that is! I'm your man, through and through! Tell you everything I know!" he gushed.
"Well?" Aria demanded.
"That lady was here. She looked like she was going to take the bridge to Hightown. But then, a man came up to her. He stumbled and fell over right at her feet, like he was dead. His hands were all bloody, like he'd been in a fight," the urchin relayed quickly. "The Lady shook him, and I think he said, 'help!'. She got him to his feet, and he was wobbly. Uh…It…it was funny. Anyway, they left. Th-that's all I saw."
Aria turned to Gamlen. "Mother always has to find some way to help," she rued. "We might not be too late!"
"Why would anyone take her?" Gamlen asked, his voice choked. Aria found herself shocked by the sincerity he exhibited in worrying for her mother. "It doesn't make sense!"
"The man left some blood," the urchin said then, pointing to a dark stain on the cobblestones about thirty feet away. "That's where he fell over. You could follow him."
"Do as the boy says," Gamlen needlessly ordered. "I'm going to go home in case Leandra shows up."
Aria didn't wait. She dashed over to the blood, her eyes darted over the area, looking for a second stain. She found it but a breath later and started tracking, the pools getting smaller and smaller as she went on. Fenris, Anders, and Varric followed closely, their own eyes peeled for signs.
Eventually, the trail led them to the Lowtown Foundry she recalled from a couple years ago. Dread and fear rocketed down her spine and she sprinted up the steps to the building. She didn't bother picking the lock; her rage grew enough that she could have split an ogre in half with her bare hands. She crashed through the door and scanned for more blood. She finally found it on the stairs leading to the second floor of the foundry, then tracked it to a trap door.
"This wasn't here last time," Aria worried aloud. She threw the door open and launched herself down into the hidden chambers. Her companions silently pursued, no one really knowing what to say, and all of them hoped for the same thing.
Fenris and Anders shared an extremely worried look. They both knew too well what a blow this would be to Aria, if they didn't find Leandra. Neither of them ever wished to see Hawke in that sort of pain. She'd been through enough.
"Spread out, start searching for her," Aria barked, much more harshly than she intended.
They did as she asked and started looking for clues. The blood trail was gone, and time rapidly ran away from them. To make matters worse, a rage demon and his flock of shades appeared. Aria screamed as she felled each one, hating them for running out the hour glass she raced against so desperately.
Once she and her companions defeated them, she continued searching. Aria's eyes landed on a table at the far end of the enormous underground hall and her heart leapt into her throat. A woman's form lay there on her side, her back to the group of them.
Aria raced over. "Mother! Mother!" she cried, turning the woman onto her back. Aria gasped in horror and her hand flew to cover her mouth. She had the same colour hair, the same skin tone, the same coloured eyes as mother, the same build, but her face was different. "Alessa!"
Alessa had been a captive of Gascard DuPuis, the blood mage Aria and everyone else thought had been the killer. Aria killed Gascard and freed Alessa. The bitter flavour of defeat stung Aria's tongue and brought bile into her throat. She'd been wrong. DuPuis's story had been true.
With a scream of rage, Aria slammed her fist down onto the table, then righted herself. She stormed further into the subterranean hideout, her malice and bloodlust growing. When she found this man, or woman, she was going to rip them to shreds. With her teeth and bare hands, if it came to it.
She found a few notes on the work tables scattered throughout the place, which reeked of death and decay. One of the notes talked about using quick lime to preserve her feet. Aria gagged after reading it, but continued on. Her toe nudged a small silver trinket in the earth, next to a pool of somewhat fresh blood. Aria bent and reverently picked it up.
"I know this locket," she whispered, opening it to see the familiar faces of her family in the pictures inside. She snapped it closed and squeezed it in her fist, her eyes going around the room. "She's here. That bastard has her."
The group descended the flight of stairs before them into what appeared to be a bed chamber. It also housed a shrine of some sort; pictures adorned the wall and there were book cases all around, filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. Aria didn't get to search it for but a few seconds before yet another rage demon and herd of shades attacked them.
Aria was in full rage mode. She whirled among them, disemboweling their twisted bodies, cleaving their disgusting heads, a whirlwind of carnage that ripped through their ranks. Finally, as she came upon the rage demon, weakened by Fenris's continued onslaught, Aria launched herself at him.
Her feet slammed into the demon's chest, sending both of them tumbling into a book case. The case fell backwards and Aria landed with her knees on its sinewy, putrid-smelling arms. She dropped the smaller of her daggers to the dirt and grasped the hilt of the larger one with both hands.
"Tell your master he's next!" she screamed, bringing the dagger down with such force between its eyes that its skull cracked violently into two pieces. The lava-like slime of its brain burst out and splattered her breastplate, black scars that would never reach her skin.
Aria twisted the dagger in the beast's skull, then wrenched it free. She stood and swiped her other dagger from the dirt and wiped it on the cloth that spilled from her waist in tatters, what used to be the fine coverlet she always wore. She turned to survey the sprawling map of madness that adorned the wall.
"What…is this?" she asked in horror, surveying the many pictures and scribbled, obsessive notes of the demented shrine. At the center of it all was a portrait of a beautiful woman who bore a striking resemblance to Leandra.
"That…that looks like Leandra," Fenris stated, his own horror evident.
"A shrine. Dedicated to a wife? Or a sister, maybe?" Anders weighed in his own opinion.
"It doesn't matter. He's dead all the same," Aria spat as she whirled to continue through the vile creature's lair.
"This book, here—It's on necromancy," Anders said as they resumed searching for clues. He shuddered. "This is dangerous work."
Aria snatched up another scribbled note from a table at the far end of the chamber. It said something about a wedding anniversary, an apology on a failing promise, and then… The face he'd know when he at last saw it. Aria crumpled the note in her hand, her body trembling with fury.
She pushed through the door at the end of the hall and raced through, hearing voices coming from somewhere in the next room. She turned the corner and saw a man kneeling in front of a large reclining chair, in which a woman sat with her back to Aria. The man smiled and stood as Aria approached. Aria twirled her daggers in anticipation of the kill, her demeanor predatory.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," the man said, sauntering away from the reclined chair. "Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."
Aria crouched into her battle stance, her ochre eyes flashing with malice. "Where is she?" she venomously demanded.
The mage smiled wickedly, then tenderly looked over at the figure in the chair. "You will never understand my purpose," he snarled at Aria. "Your mother was chosen because she was special. And now, she is part of something…greater."
Aria snapped one of her daggers up, rearing to her full height, the blade aimed at the man's heart. "Release her. Now."
"She is here," the mage purred, his eyes shifting to the chair. "She is waiting for you. I have done the impossible. I have touched the face of the maker," he smugly continued, his eyes lifted upwards as though he transcended by merely uttering the words. "And lived! Do you know what the strongest force of the Universe is?"
Aria watched him turn and walk back to the chair, her feet deftly bringing her closer in silence. One clean blow. That's all she would need. A tiny window and she would sever his skull from his spinal cord.
"Love," he continued, his back to them. He touched the back of the chair and shifted it so the figure within sat forward. The movements were jerky, uncoordinated. "I pieced her back together from memory. I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers, and…at last…her face." He rounded the chair and lifted the figure's chin up so he could look down upon the countenance. "Oh…this beautiful face!"
Aria scampered back a few steps when the figure rose, horror taking root in her. The portrait had been uncannily similar to her mother's. She begged whatever deities that may exist to spare her what she knew would come. She fought between denial and reality, knowing the outcome but refusing to accept it. This just wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.
"Oh! To find you again, beloved!" the lunatic butcher reverently cried as the figure took a few clumsy steps. "And no force on this earth will part us!"
The figure turned and Aria's worst nightmare was realized. The abomination before her bore her mother's head, crudely sewn to the body of some other unlucky woman. Different eyes existed where Leandra's had been, but the face was the same. Aria took another step back, stumbling blindly, her grip on reality slipping.
The mage counted on this for a diversion, and he launched his attack. Fenris and Anders closed in front of her, taking on the army of demons and shades the mage summoned to his defense. Varric tugged Aria away from the fray, launching bolt after bolt from Bianca.
Aria couldn't look away from the woman that swayed in the background, her eyes never leaving Aria's. The woman fell to her knees behind a line of shades and something inside Aria snapped.
With a blood curdling scream of righteous fury, Aria bolted past Varric and launched into the battle. She was a terrifying sight to behold, sending gore flying at every angle, felling everything that stood in her way. She fought tirelessly, the creatures seemingly unable to get a read on her movements fast enough to quell the devastating onslaught she unleashed on them.
She didn't think. She just reacted. All the sorrow, hate, and fury galvanized her considerable combat ability and she tapped potential she hadn't known she possessed. She had to break before she could reach her full ability. She was devastated, but she wasn't going to take it lying down. She wrought merciless, savage, vengeance upon everything that disgusting excuse for a human being threw at her until at last she reached him.
He whirled, his staff missing her face by a hair's breadth, but it was all the window she needed. With one final scream of rage, Aria drove her blade through his navel and ripped it upward until it caught in the bone of his sternum. She savagely twisted the blade, lifting the mage's body in the process. She was covered in his blood as he looked helplessly down at her, his life force flowing out of him with every beat of his dying heart.
"You were right about one thing," Aria hissed, spitting in his face. She threw his dying body down and straddled his chest. "Love is the strongest force in the universe." She slammed her hand into the hole her dagger created and ruthlessly gripped his heart, the muscle twitching and writhing, hot and sticky in her clenched fist. His blood rushed out of him and onto her, covering her in its gore. His eyes grew wider and he watched her rip the precious organ from his body, then crush it under the merciless turn of her heel.
Aria whirled abruptly and whipped the throwing knife in her belt at the last undead creature that still stood, shambling toward her in a flanking attempt. The keen little blade buried itself to the hilt in the creature's eye socket and it fell, revealing the fallen caricature of her mother behind it, struggling to stand.
"Mama!" Aria cried, racing to the woman before she collapsed again. She cradled her in her arms, sobbing openly as she rocked the woman back and forth.
"There's nothing I can do," Anders helplessly stated, his voice cracking. "His magic was keeping her alive."
"I knew you would come," Leandra weakly stated, her eyes riveted on Aria's. "I knew my Birdie would fly to me."
"I'm so sorry Mama. I'm so sorry," Aria sobbed, cradling the woman closer to her. "I failed. I failed you again."
"Shhh," Leandra whispered. "Don't fret, darling. That man would have kept me trapped in here. At least now, I am free. I can see Carver again, and your father. But you'll be all alone."
Aria kissed her forehead, her tears falling onto Leandra's face. She ran her fingers through her mother's hair. "I should have been there more often, I should have been with you…I should have…"
"You have become the strongest woman I've ever known. I love you," Leandra whispered, her voice faltering. "You've always made me…so…proud…"
Leandra's body went limp and her eyes no longer saw. Her last breath spent, the last beat of a foreign heart shuddered to stillness. Aria rocked her back and forth, tears spilling from her eyes, her breath unable to enter or leave her chest as she writhed in silent agony, clinging to the remnants of the most noble woman she'd ever known. Anders, Fenris, and Varric looked on in stunned silence, for the moment rendered paralyzed by the severity of the situation.
Aria screamed at last, the air trapped in her lungs breaking free. She buried her face against the hair that had once belonged to her mother. She screamed and screamed until her voice gave out and all she could do was sob silently. She fought them when they lifted her away, fought them when someone else carried her mother. This wasn't fair. How could anyone do this, let alone to her Mother?
They dragged her, kicking and sobbing from the foundry. Aveline met them in Lowtown and she sank to her knees when she saw Fenris and Varric struggling with the hysterically distraught Aria, who was virtually unrecognizable under the gore that covered her. Donnic ran over to take Leandra's body from Anders, whose own visage was mottled and covered with tears.
Merrill came running then, having been informed by one of the patrols that they were looking for Hawke's mother. When she saw Fenris struggling to hold Aria, she cast her sleep spell, and blessedly sent the rogue into a magically induced coma. Fenris nodded his thanks to her and cradled Aria in his arms. Merrill and Varric followed Fenris towards Hightown, a complement of guards in tow.
Isabela joined them, along with a few friends from the Hanged Man. She helped Aveline to her feet.
"I…have to tell Gamlen," Aveline stated, her body cold and numb. She couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe the madness and cruelty of this. Guilt slammed into her. They'd gotten it wrong—and now, tragedy fell upon the Hawke line once more.
"Hasn't she suffered enough?" Isabela's voice hitched as she asked, a rare instance of compassion in her eyes as she watched Fenris carry Hawke up the steps to Hightown. Donnic followed, carrying what remained of the Hawke matriarch.
"Merrill had to put her down," Aveline quietly stated. "I…fear…I fear she's…broken."