Chapter THIRTY-NINE

Maker, but the Arishok was huge. Aria paled when he drew his sword, but was careful to keep her expression flat. She almost would have preferred the great axe he'd sported earlier. That sword was as long as she was tall and had nasty hooks on either side of the blade's tip. It was not meant for efficiency; it was meant to mangle and obliterate creatures softer than itself. Aria was pretty sure she was softer than that sword.

She unsheathed her daggers and swung them with impressive flexibility and speed, limbering up her sore shoulders and wrists. Aria's combat prowess was exceptional and she tried to gather courage from that confidence. She also checked to make sure her shots of health and stamina potions were easily and readily accessible on her belt. It was going to be a long, hard battle and she wasn't going to survive without every edge possible. She took deep, slow, calming breaths and focused on the righteous fury she'd possessed just moments before. She needed it. Needed that reserve. Needed that will, that credence.

Fenris, Aveline, Isabela, Varric, and Anders stood behind the behemoth, escorted there by the Qunari guards clearing the battle field. Aveline's visage bore signs of extreme worry, though she tried to smile when her eyes met Aria's. Isabela shook with silent sobs, her eyes pleading with Aria. Varric smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up. Anders's expression was impassive, though his chocolate brown eyes were unnaturally bright. And Fenris…he smiled confidently at her, nodding. That was all she needed. At least one or two of them believed in her.

The Arishok charged, his great horned head down, his shoulder ready to buffet her should it connect. She leaped sideways, slicing his back with one of her daggers as he drove past her. It reminded her of an Orlesian bullfight, except this was not mere entertainment. She whirled to see where he'd stopped, springing into a back flip to evade him as he charged again. She heard Aveline gasp to her left.

"Filthy human," one of the Qunari behind her growled.

The Arishok lunged for her and she blocked his blade for a moment with her offhand dagger, whipping her sharper mainhanded one across his bared abdomen. It hardly scratched his tough hide. He tossed her defense backwards and brought the pommel of his sword down hard on her right shoulder with a sickening crunch. Aria clenched her teeth as the pain tore through her entire right side, managing to snag a miasmic flask from her belt with her left hand. She tossed it and kicked it with expert precision, showering the Arishok with the fog and broken glass. His eyes glazed over and she realized, with a sudden rush of hope, that the stun potion... Had worked. It was a gamble she'd taken and for once, it paid off.

Fearing that she had no time to waste, she lunged toward him and stabbed deeply at his abdomen, her blade biting shallowly into his hard flesh. His shoulders were still stooped, and he was wobbling, so she vaulted swiftly over his head and unleashed a bevy of attacks at his back, viciously cutting and slicing away at him. She nearly whooped aloud when she saw blood start to seep from the wounds she inflicted.

He recovered a few seconds later, angrier than she'd ever seen any creature get. His entire body shook with his fury. He roared and unleashed a flurry of devastating blows. Most of them missed, but the few that landed broke her ribs and severed a few muscles. She evaded him again, quickly snagging a health potion, then stamina potion in rapid succession. The healing potion raced through her blood, healing the severed tissue and broken bones. Her muscles cooled quickly as the stamina took effect. Almost in the same instant, the Arishok heaved a great swing at her legs and she sprang over his head, flipping in the air and landing on her feet behind him, crouched with daggers at the ready.

Cheers erupted from her companions at her narrow escape while the Qunari present grunted their displeasure. It was clear to Aria now how she was going to win this fight. The slightest misstep would mean death. And she was already exhausted from the fighting earlier. Evade, stun, damage. Evade, stun, damage. It was a dance of death.

"Quit running, basra coward!" one particularly disgruntled Karashok shouted then.

Aria gritted her teeth as she spun around, dancing away, only to face the Arishok again, who was charging for her. She strafed sideways, the way a bird of prey does when caught by a swift crosswind, easily avoiding the onslaught the Arishok sought to unleash. She hardly contained the laughter that bubbled in her throat when he slammed into one of the hall's enormous pillars. He shook it off, every bit the angry bull, and came at her swinging again. She ducked under the heavy sweep of his enormous sword, spinning so that she came up behind him again. She quickly lunged at his back before he could recover; dealing several swift blows to the same areas she'd opened up earlier.

The Arishok spun, roaring his rage that she'd managed to evade him again. He unloaded on her with a flurry of devastating blows that did more damage than the last she'd endured. Gasping for breath, she bolted away from him, her fingers quickly snatching the needed potions from her belt. She was mid chug on the stamina as he charged again. She dropped the stamina vial and quickly snagged another miasmic flask from her belt. She whirled and kicked it over his head.

Aria capitalized on his momentary stupor, flipping over his head again and burying both daggers into his back as she came down. She yanked them free, spun, and delivered another barrage before he came out of it again. But, by the time he whirled to face her, she was across the room, drawing deep, heaving breaths to recover from this exhausting battle.

They continued in this fashion for nearly three hours, though Aria was showing a slight bit more progress. Blood stained both of their visages and bodies. Both of them were gasping for breath. Both of them were experiencing difficulty in their movements.

Aveline shouted from behind the Qunari line, egging Hawke on as best she could from the sideline. Varric struggled to get a better vantage point on the battle. Isabela cheered and screamed, shouting out maneuvers. Anders had set his staff down and kicked it away to prevent him from healing her, though the look on his face showed how much it was paining him to watch her get hurt like she was. It occurred to Anders then that he might lose her today. She was bleeding, utterly exhausted, and looked as though she might drop at any moment.

Fenris was awestruck. The heart she showed in this battle, taking on someone of such huge stature and skill, and still managing to best the formidable enemy, impressed him more than he already was with her. He was beside himself as much as the others, wincing every time the Qunari leader dealt his devastating blows and feeling her pain right along with her. But he had faith in her. She could do this. He'd seen her take on dragons and darkspawn ogres. He knew she had it in her—she would just be tested more sorely than ever before today, Maker bless her soul.

He prayed fervently against any doubt that she'd be the victor. He didn't think he could stand it if she lost. The conversation he had with Anders about suicide came to the forefront of his mind, the one in which the mage had encouraged Fenris to kill himself if he found his plight so unbearable, the same way Fenris had egged on the mage to do so. When Anders had asked him why he would not commit the act, Fenris had replied that it was a sin, and he could not do it. Today, Fenris actually entertained the idea. If Aria died in this battle, he would not be far behind, Maker be damned. She'd become the light to his night. She was his first thought upon waking, and the last before sleeping. She kept the pain, the helplessness, the rage away. She could not lose.

After another two hours of grueling battle, the Arishok was showing definite signs of fatigue. His blows were losing strength and accuracy. His charges were nowhere near as fast nor as powerful. His years of inactivity within Kirkwall were no match for the years of battle-hardening that Aria had endured. She could sense he was nearing his breaking point and it fueled her attacks, lending her strength beyond what she already possessed.

He charged her again, his attempt half-hearted. Aria decided to try her luck, knowing that it could cost her her life, but she was done with this battle. She was done with the idea that they would all be converted to something they did not hold belief in. She was done with people trying to tell her what was right, what was wrong, and how to live her life. She was done having those she cared about taken from her. She was going to exact revenge, starting with this zealot. And she'd carve the heart out of every other zealot that sought to use her as a pawn again. This was for her family, for her friends, for her life.

With a bloodcurdling scream of pure, righteous fury, she drove towards him as he charged, vaulting into the air just before they collided. She dropped her offhand dagger and gripped the hilt of the wickeder forehand blade with both hands, driving it hard and clean up to the hilt just below the Arishok's neck between his shoulders. He fell, his own sword flying across the room and landing with a deafening clatter as it skittered to the other side of the room.

The room went absolutely silent. Aria's chest was heaving and her muscles ached severely. But her rage gave her strength and she drew upon it further. She snatched the dagger up that she'd cast away and strode wearily up to where the Arishok had fallen. She yanked her other dagger out of his back and turned him over, poised to strike again should he move.

"This is not the end," he gurgled, blood rising in his throat, his eyes glinting cold, hard malice. "We will come again."

"Then, I look forward to it," Aria venomously whispered, dropping one of the daggers again to bury the other into his heart. She gave it a vicious twist, glaring down into the beast's cold eyes until they no longer saw. Then, she wrenched it free, spitting on the Arishok's corpse as she stood over him. She swiped at her lips with her sleeve and turned to regard the room.

The Qunari stood in stunned silence as they watched Aria send their leader to the Void. They had never thought this insignificant human capable of felling the ferocious Arishok. It was an oversight that they would never again make and paid dearly for now. Without a single word, the remaining Qunari soldiers filed out of the great hall and disappeared down the steps, their heads down, and their spirits broken.

Aveline charged Aria and swept her into the air, crushing the battle weary rogue to her in a giant hug. Aria winced and bit back her cry of pain, her cracked ribs and spine paining her excruciatingly in the process and nearly rendering her unconscious. White lights flashed before her eyes and when her vision returned, it was spotted with black and red. She gasped for breath and fought to speak.

"Aveline," she choked, "Please put me down. I have a great many broken bones at present."

"Hawke, I'm so proud of you, I could kiss you!" she squealed girlishly, a sound Aria never wanted to hear from the warrioress again.

"Please don't. People talk enough already," Aria laughingly wheezed, slumping over and falling sideways to the ground. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes for a moment, ignoring the gasps of the onlookers around her. Let them think she was dying. She didn't care for anything right now.

For the moment, all she wanted to do was exist in darkness and focus on breathing. Anything else might break her now. Just…breathe. She weakly and appreciatively grinned when a wave of magical healing crashed over her, stealing her pain and exhaustion. Though he was weak from the previous battles, he saw to it that the worst of her her injuries were mended.

"Thank you, Anders," she whispered, opening her eyes again. He had knelt over her, and inclined his head in a bow, his deep brown eyes shining merrily.

Isabela knelt by her and helped haul Aria to her feet. Tears flowed freely down her mocha cheeks and she embraced the battle-weary Aria almost as hard as Aveline had. When she released Hawke, she kissed her soundly on the lips. "Don't ever do that again! I fight my own battles!" Isabela cried as Varric joined them.

"That was the stuff of legends!" Varric cheered, clapping Aria on the back. He was going to have a heyday with this one, Aria well knew. She actually looked forward to his version of the story; hers hurt too much.

"I can't believe you did that. You should have seen you! Just dodging and parrying, a shadow he could hardly manage to hit!" Aveline gushed as Aria bent over to take another deep breath.

"Oh, he managed to hit me quite enough," Aria wheezed, exhausted beyond any measure she could previously recall. Potions and magic would only go so far after a fight like that. What she needed now was a good hearty meal, a cask of mead, and a week in bed.

Aria looked around the room at the faces of the people she'd just saved from terrible indoctrination. They were all cheering and crying, exuberant and relieved. Aria smiled at them all, a city saved. She continued scanning the hall and her eyes finally landed on the steady green stare from the steps. Fenris hadn't moved. He was watching her, his expression blank, his eyes intense, his arms folded across his chest. She grinned at him and found herself dazzled by the one he returned to her, his eyes sparkling brilliantly in the low torch light of the hall. It was very rare indeed that Fenris smiled, really, whole-heartedly smiled, and it disappeared from his ethereally handsome visage all too quickly.

Fenris strode purposefully toward her, his strides powerful and graceful. He snatched her hand and yanked her to him. He crushed her against him, burying his face against her neck. His arms trembled as he held her and his lips caressed her neck.

"I knew you could do it," he whispered next to her ear.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she fought to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. She did have a reputation to keep, after all. She held him closer, burying her own face against his neck, drawing on the warmth he radiated for strength and sanity. Despite the rocky road their relationship traveled, she knew, here and now, that he was hers—and she was gladly his. They stayed there for a moment, until Aria realized how quiet the hall had gotten around them. Aria gently turned in his embrace to see what was transpiring.

Meredith had arrived and was glowering at the display before her, ignoring the dead Arishok at her feet. Fenris released Aria, but kept one arm around her waist as they faced the Knight Commander. His eyes radiated cold, emerald fury.

"Is it over?" Meredith asked with incredulity, the templars and Orsino at her flank.

Aria nodded. "It is over."

"The city has been saved!" one of the noblemen cheered from the crowd. "Hawke has saved us all!"

The crowd of former hostages converged on Aria, cheering, lifting her up. As they carried her past, Meredith sheathed her great sword, but her eyes shot pale blue daggers at the rogue. Aria didn't care. Today… Today she didn't lose.

The sun was rising in the east as they emerged from the Keep, crowds gathering as word spread. The refugee from Ferelden, traveler of the Deep Roads, mage-friend, and elf-lover, had prevailed. The crowd set her down on the steps and she hailed everyone, her arm upraised in victory.

Orsino joined her, his expression jubilant, his sparkling eyes slightly misted. "Your sister will be so very proud."

"She was not in this fray, I hope?" Aria said then, the familiar chill of fear rushing back.

"No. She is safe, in the Gallows. Thank you, Hawke. We all owe you a great debt," the mage said as Meredith joined them.

"Well done. It appears Kirkwall has a new Champion," Meredith icily said. She silently led the surviving templars and few mages away from the Keep.

"Aria! Aria!" someone shouted from within the crowd. People moved to make way for the frantic man. "Aria! Oh! Thank the Maker!"

Gamlen collided with her on the top step, embracing her so tightly that her mangled armour let go of a couple pieces.

"Uncle…" Aria groaned. He hugged her tighter. "No really… I'm crying uncle!"

He released her just enough to look her in the eyes. "You damned fool girl! You gave me a fright! How in Andraste's name did you survive?"

Aria sighed and gently stepped away from him, patting him on the shoulder as she did so. Bodahn, Orana, and Sandal came then, fighting through the crowd. They were all safe. Finally. Aria fought the overwhelming urge that would reduce her to tears. Her family was safe.

"Let's…let's save that story for later. Right now… I just want to eat an entire dragon, take a long hot bath, and sleep for ages," Aria wearily laughed.

"Right! You must be exhausted," Gamlen said, hooking her arm with his. He started to lead her down the steps, but Varric sidled up to him.

"Free drinks at the Hanged Man, and I'll tell you the story," Varric smoothly stated, winking at Hawke.

"Well you can't bloody well turn that offer down," Aria chuckled.

Fenris appeared then. Gamlen kissed her on the cheek and released her, winking as the elf took her arm in his stead. Aria watched them bound down the steps through the crowd. She shook her head, smiling as she watched them disappear into the celebrating throngs of Kirkwallers.

"Let's get you home," Fenris whispered by her ear as he drew her closer to him.

"Music to my ears," Aria replied, allowing him to guide her through the mass of people. They clapped her on the back and cheered her name as they passed, many of them also praising Fenris. Aveline, Anders, and Isabela followed in her wake, along with Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana.

The damage done to the city was a sobering sight. All these happy faces seemed out of place amidst the broken stones and corpses of Qunari and humans. She tried not to think about it. None of their deaths had been in vain. The casualties of this skirmish were avenged.

As soon as they got inside, Anders and Aveline went up to ready a bath. Orana and Bodahn went into the kitchen to start preparing a meal. Sandal took Aria's armour and weapons as Fenris removed them, and he set to the task of mending them straightaway.

Fenris led Aria to the sitting room and sat on the sofa with her, his arms around her. Isabela sat in the chair across from them. Early morning sunlight lit the room and made Aria feel the most at peace she could ever remember.

"Aria, I don't even know what to say," the rogue pirate said once they'd settled.

"You needn't say anything. That you came back is enough," Aria wearily replied.

"That was the most spectacular fight I've ever seen!" Isabela gushed. "You were amazing!"

"I don't feel amazing, but thank you," Aria laughed.

"You were. And you are," Fenris huskily stated. He looked as exhausted as Aria felt. She gently touched his face, her thumb tracing the dark circle under his eye. It was slightly swollen, and the bruising was spreading down his cheek.

"I am forever in your debt," Isabela said then. "And I've no doubt we can handle Castillon."

"He may think twice about coming after you, knowing you have me in your corner," Aria airily laughed.

"He may indeed!" Isabela chortled, throwing her arms up in the air. She sniffed her own armpit and groaned. "I need a bath."

"I would offer you mine, but I've only the one tub and I plan on utilizing it," Aria chuckled.

"Well we could share it," Isabela said with a wink.

"The other seat will be occupied," Fenris admonished, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oh, very well then. Do come to the Hanged Man when you wake up. Or what's left of it, I should say. When I came through, half the roof was on fire," Isabela relented, standing and stretching.

"I think half the city was on fire," Aria groaned.

"Never you mind that," Isabela laughed. "We won!" She danced from the room chortling and spinning like a crazed traveler. "We won, we won, we won!" she chortled, grabbing Sandal who cried out when she kissed him soundly on t he cheek. She left the estate to cheers from the crowds still gathering outside.

Anders and Aveline walked into the sitting room then. Aveline's eyes misted when she saw Hawke, and they sat in the chairs near the hearth.

"What a fight," Aveline sighed. "I'll never doubt you again."

Aria chuckled. "See that you don't. But about those elves..."

"You need rest," Anders gently stated, cutting her off. Aveline looked ashamed. "How you're still standing is beyond me."

"Technically, I'm sitting," Aria replied. "Food first. I'm starving."

Aria was quiet then and listened as Fenris, Anders, and Aveline recapped the previous nightmarish day's events. They laughed and congratulated each other, truly joyful, and Aria was decidedly happy. At peace. Aveline broke out a couple bottles of wine, which they drained in mere moments.

At last, Bodahn and Orana came in to tell them the meal was ready. Fenris all but carried Aria to the dining room and her stomach nearly howled at the sight of the feast before them. Leftover roast beef from the other night, even more tender and flavorful now. Stir fried vegetables glazed with one of Orana's signature sauces. An entire cask of mead sat on the table, tapped and ready for drinking. Decadent chocolate cake that was Aria's favourite.

They ate until they were stuffed, chattering merrily about their victories and debating who the new Viscount would be. Aria mostly ate and listened. She was much too weary to actively engage in conversation. With their bellies full and their minds at ease, Aveline and Anders departed. Anders took the cellar route, so as to avoid the increased templar patrols Meredith had sent out.

Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana cleared the table and cleaned up while Fenris led Aria to the stairs. She stopped him and looked dubiously at the steps.

"I'm so tired. I could just sleep down here on the sofa…" Aria started to say, but he swept her up into his arms.

"No," he gravelly whispered. He carried her up to her bedroom and set her gently on her bed. Then he went over and poured the steaming water from the hearth into the tub. She watched him, fighting the war with her eyelids that now each seemed to weigh as much as Kirkwall itself.

Aria did not protest when he helped her undress. She worked at his own accoutrements, though she moved much slower than he did. She let her hair down and he combed it out for her. Neither of them seemed to have the energy to speak. He carried her to the tub and they lay in its bubbly bliss for quite some time before moving or saying anything again.

Aria rested her head on his chest as he poured water over her head to soak her long, silvery hair. His heartbeat was slow, steady, and strong against her cheek. Her fingers traced lazy patterns over his lyrium brands on his belly and chest. He dispensed his favourite of her shampoos into the palm of his hand and started to wash her hair.

"I love you," Aria whispered, her eyes closed as he rinsed the soap from her hair. She heard his breath hitch in his chest. She slowly lifted her weary head so that she could look into his eyes.

His hand caressed her cheek, his expression unreadable. "I…love you."

She smiled and returned her head to his chest. He finished rinsing her hair and grabbed the bath sponge. He scrubbed it with the bar of soap until a thick lather frothed over the entire thing, and he gently set about to scrubbing her back. Aria sat up and took it from him after a moment, finishing scrubbing herself before she did the same for him.

They were both bruised, cut, and sore all over. Anders hadn't had time to deal with their most minor injuries. There was a large cut that ran down his cheek, his bottom lip was slightly swollen and starting to bruise. One of his eyes was going to be quite the shiner on the morrow. He had numerous scrapes, cuts, and contusions down his abdomen and thighs. When she washed his back, it was much the same.

He reveled in her touch, gentle and attentive. His pulse quickened the longer her hands scrubbed over him, her touch flooding his veins with fire. He just watched her, watched the care with which she tended him, the way her eyes followed her hands, the tenderness that took to them when she inspected an injury. He'd never had this before—someone who truly, unselfishly, unconditionally loved him. He had the proof of it, word and deed. It was terrifying as it was overwhelming.

"What a pair we make," Aria softly laughed as she helped him rinse.

He chuckled and held her back to him, his fingers combing her conditioner through her hair. "What a pair indeed." He poured more water over her head to rinse the cream from her hair, then gingerly and slowly removed himself from the tub. He fetched two towels and her robe from the closet, and all the while she just watched him move.

He was, in a word, beautiful. Lithe and steely. Controlled and precise. Aria loved to watch him move, she loved to look at him. His eyes caught hers and she swore he might have blushed. She allowed him to help her from the tub, and as she bent over it to pull the drain plug, his hand smoothed up her back. His fingers traced the tattoo of the hawk between her shoulder blades.

Aria stood and turned to face him, laughing as he threw a towel about her shoulders and he used it to pull her against him. His mouth claimed hers, needy, hungry. She kissed him back, their naked bodies colliding and entangling. He pulled away just long enough to turn the blankets down, then he swept her up into his arms and deposited her gently onto the bed. Fenris lowered his body over hers as she pulled the blankets up to cover them.

His head rested on her collarbone, his lips caressed her neck. Aria combed her fingers through his damp hair, and she started to hum softly. After a moment, she felt him relax completely, and his breath came in deep, slow draws. Aria smiled to herself and kissed the top of his head, her fingers intertwining with his. If there ever existed a heaven, this was it.