Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2 or 3."

Author's notes: More into Hawke's current state of being captured in the Fade.

"Catching the Wind"

Chapter forty-four "In Nightmare's Grasp"

When Hawke woke, it was to a hurt back, as the rocks beneath her poked her in several places, and water seeping up past her shoulders and to her ears. Hawke gave a startled gasp and sat up to avoid the rising stream. A few more moments and she would have drowned. Her right boot was clasped tight by…..something, and when Hawke tried to tug herself free, the pressure on top of it pressed down, trapping her against the rock. Hawke howled with pain.

"Oh good, you're awake." Nightmare sounded positively giddy. The tall horrific shape was in physical form, towering over her a few feet off. The large spidery entity had her foot trapped. A rope of saliva hung from its maw. It dripped lower and lower, threatening to dampen her pant leg, already wet from the stream. Hawke cringed, fingers tightening into fists.

"Where's…." Hawke was going to ask of Stroud, but the memory of him smashed flat by the large spider sprang to her mind's eye. He was dead, and horribly so. She swallowed hard.

"Stroud? Ah, brave Grey Warden he was, but he made such a red mess," Nightmare chuckled. Hawke suddenly wanted to push her fingers into its eyes. If it had eyes beneath the lowered part of its hood.

"Let me up, and I'll give you the fight you want," Hawke growled. She felt braver until the tall hooded figure seemed to stare at her and through her. A blink of her eyes and her mate was glaring at her in a disapproving manner. And Isabela had every reason to be angry with her. Hawke swallowed. She squeezed her eyes hard and when she opened them, Nightmare was back. Hawke wouldn't say it was an improvement, but she didn't want to think of Isabela being angry. She wanted to go home so she could help her through her anger.

"Hawke, you talk like you expect you can find a way out of here and from me. I have such a well of emotion to draw from and it's all dripping from you." Nightmare's deep voice sounded coaxing and deliciously smug. Hawke swallowed. Her head fell back, and her hair dampened in the low stream beneath her.

"What are you…."

"Ah…." Nightmare took a deep breath and more flash images erupted in front of Hawke's eyes and even behind her eyelids when she squeezed them shut. Isabela. Merrill. Isabela and Merrill, holding each other and crying. Her pups. The twins, tall and staring at her with rapidly growing concern. They didn't look glad to see her. Her daughters, Magpie holding Sparrow by the hand. How much time had passed since she'd fallen into the Fade with the Inquisitor's party? Sparrow was walking! "So many morsels. So many thoughts and feelings. Much of it rage. Directed at you."

Hawke swallowed, the lump in her throat growing larger. She wanted to cry herself, but she couldn't fall to despair. If she did, she had no way to get out of the Fade.

"Stop looking….get out of my head!"

"Isabela, Captain Isabela….." The smug smile her mate often gave her filled her mind. Hawke swallowed. "She so did not want to be tied down and you'd gone and tethered her heart. Twined her close to you with seeds of kin."

"Leave my pups out of it!" Hawke yelled. Her gloved hands tightened into fists in the water. The giant spidery creature stared down at her, then its other large leg tugged at her opposite leg. Hawke kicked out, but her boot was grasped tight. She went limp, trying to conserve her strength. The terror she felt coursing through her veins was a very real thing and she wanted to be sick with it.

Nightmare sounded even closer and Hawke flicked her eyes up and over her shoulder to the right. The tall figure WAS standing over her, and its large twig-like fingers stretched over her face. Hawke grit her teeth, as an image was flashed behind her eyelids. She howled at the pain of it.

Hawke was instantly elsewhere, on the beach of her family's home. A storm had passed through the area, and the rains were dying down. Branches and other debris were scattered across the beach and amidst the broken tree limbs, Hawke found the limp form of a dark-skinned child, limbs as equally broken as the foliage. Sparrow! Hawke collected the limp form in her arms, her mouth open and she was terrified to hear herself screeching with pain and sorrow. Her baby! What had happened, where was everyone, why was she out alone….

"You did this!" Isabela's voice cracked like the receding thunder and Hawke looked up from her knees, her eyes blinded with tears. Isabela pointed a shaky finger at her, her face a rictus of pain and justified anger. "You caused this! My baby….my Sparrow!"

"No…." Hawke shifted on her knees, Sparrow's limp form offered in her arms. She clung to the tiny body hard then as she shivered. "I didn't… I wasn't…."

"My child is dead!" Merrill was suddenly beside Isabela, arm about her waist as if to catch the pirate. "You did this!"

The truth of the vision seared Hawke's heart and she choked on her faltering words. She could only get one out through the hard lump in her throat as sobs clogged her breathing. "I…no!"

Nightmare's chuckles rolled over the beach and the pointing accusing figures. When Hawke blinked through her tears, her arms were empty, and she was again trapped under the spidery creature. "Dammit!" she cursed. It had seemed so real. Hawke tore her gloves off, losing them in the stream, and pounded her bare fists up and down on the stone beneath her. Small cuts covered her knuckles as she screamed helplessly.

"Oh, come now, that wasn't so bad." Nightmare sounded so condescending and Hawke wanted to choke the tall figure. How could it say that about the death of a child, HER child! Maker, please don't let that be true…. "Oh, and that was just one…..you have three more."

"No!" Hawke choked out before the twig hand moved over her face again. Another flash image and Magpie was rushing toward her, hands reaching. She had dropped her staff in order to cling to her faster, when she fell forward as if tripping over something. It was so abrupt it was as if she were a marionette whose strings had been cut. Hawke choked out a scream and flew to Magpie's side, pulling the limp child into her lap. Flipping Magpie onto her back, Hawke felt punched in the chest. Her mage daughter's eyes were clouded over with the Blight, and her lips were moving soundlessly. No, not again, not like Bethany… But she was still alive, if they could find a Grey Warden….

Stroud, where was Stroud?! Too late, Hawke had the nagging realization he was dead, smashed to pieces and far from able to help heal her child. Magpie's cracked lips parted, and she gave a whine of pain that killed Hawke to hear. She gently hugged Magpie to her chest. "What, what is it, baby?" she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Pa…..glad…" Magpie made out, sightless eyes moving around to glimpse her, but her tiny hands were on her face, touching. Hawke wanted to smile for her so she could feel it, but pain shredded her heart. She was sobbing as quietly as she could, cradling Magpie's sick form.

"You did this! You and your damned blood!" Isabela sounded as angry as before. Useless tears were in her eyes as she shook her finger at Hawke. Hawke stare uselessly at her.

"I….I…." Families that had potential for mages did have a higher risk of contracting symptoms of the Blight. It was true, but Hawke would take it all back if she could. "I didn't…" The helpless reality of her family's blood surged guilt through Hawke so palpable she couldn't move.

Merrill knelt opposite her, tears leaking from her eyes as she took Magpie from her, cradling the mage child she had carried herself. "If only you were Dalish….if only!" she whispered to Magpie and Hawke was struck again with debilitating guilt. Dalish had a higher immunity to the Blight. It was true, if she had gotten Magpie on Merrill, she wouldn't be like this now!...

"Merrill…" Hawke begged brokenly. But her mate wouldn't look at her; she only had eyes for the bigger concern, their ailing child. Magpie was whimpering and crying as the pain wracked her thin form and Hawke pounded her fists against her head. No!

"Mags!" Hawke blinked through her tears and she was again in the Fade, trapped on her back beneath a spidery creature that stared hungrily at her through many beady eyes. "Stop it!"

"Oh, but what about those boys? Spitting image of you, trained by you…. Let's take a closer look." Nightmare sounded almost clinical in his glee. Hawke wanted to spit up at him, but her mouth was dry. Before she could collect her senses to do much of anything, his large hand was against her face again. She squeezed her eyes shut as a flash image erupted again behind her eyelids.

"Do you boys want to come with me?" She was younger, by a few years, and there were only the twins, much younger themselves. They were playing on the rug in front of the hearth at her mother's estate in Kirkwall. Before the fall! It had to be. The boys glanced at each other and then at her.

"No, we'll stay with Mama," Falcon reported. Lark nodded silently. Hawke tried not to feel hurt at that, but she couldn't help it. She'd done everything she could think of to make the twins feel welcome, feel like this was their home. She was their sire! But the twins had shown no interest to get to know her and even Isabela couldn't help them see to rights….

"Shall we have lunch, boys?" Merrill came in and asked. The twins climbed to their feet and accepted pats on the head, but they barely showed her second mate any inclination as well. Isabela was heartsick over their children's behavior and she knew Merrill was feeling it too.

"Okay…."

The look Merrill gave her was hopeful, but an underlying sadness was in her large eyes. Hawke swallowed and tried to go to her. But the smoke from the fireplace wafted up into her eyes, strange, didn't Bodahn open the flue properly?...

Hawke blinked and again she was still in the Fade, and luckily far from that nightmare. "They don't….they didn't hate me…"

"You've been gone over a year." Nightmare sounded resolute. He tsked her unkindly. "Of course they'd grow to hate you in this time."

Hawke lowered her head in the low stream, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. They joined the water beneath her head.

"And who's to say your mates will wait for you?"

That thought was an agony for Hawke. The marks at her throat and above her breast burned at the entity's words. No, he was wrong, she could still feel a connection! Yes, mates could dally outside their union, but they usually felt their connection's displeasure for it. Most mated pairs mated for life in this case. But Hawke couldn't begrudge Isabela, or even sweet Merrill, if they fell to someone else's arms for comfort or pleasure, could she?

"They….they will. I can feel them." Hawke had a flash of happiness when Nightmare's jagged mouth curved down in an angry frown.

"Well, then, feel this!"

His hand was in front of Hawke's face again and she howled as she was thrust to another flash image. And this one she did not want more than anything, her mates with others. Other betas, other alphas, claiming what was hers, Merrill and Isabela willingly spreading for them. That hurt as bad as the children. They were alive but enjoying someone else.

One shadowy lover, female and alpha, was between Isabela's legs. Her arms flung above her head, one hand reaching for Merrill's across the bed. Their fingers twined as they enjoyed their erstwhile partners.

"You left them, Hawke. What did you really expect?"

"Get out of my head!" Hawke screamed.

The images became more obscene in their sweat-drenched ecstasy. Hawke wanted to gouge her eyes out with her fingers, but her limbs were as heavy as lead and she was forced to watch.

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Varric pushed at the mabari's shoulder with all his weight, trying to get him to budge.

"Boy, we have to move. You can't stay here by yourself," he pleaded. Angela whined, staring at the forest with wide searching eyes. The Inquisitor's party had moved back through the lands around Crestwood, heading toward Skyhold. Here the mabari sat his haunches down and refused to move further.

"Lord Tethras, we have to keep moving. Should we leave him?" One of the scouts asked. Varric sighed, pushing again at the mabari. Angela proved ever obstinate.

"Stupid beast!" he said. Varric leaned against the unmoving mabari who merely panted at him. "Hawke will never forgive me…"

The scouts looked at each other with concern. Ever since fighting their way out of the Fade, the Inquisitor's companions proved weary and wary, a potent combination for survival. Varric had been crying some of the journey, but he kept wiping his eyes on his sleeve so no one could chance to see. But everyone knew his friend the once Champion of Kirkwall hadn't come back out to the real world.

"My lord, we should continue…."

Varric sighed and stuck his pipe into his mouth. He chewed the end and moved the pipe to one side of his mouth as he searched for a match. "Fine, fine. Let's stop at the village on the way out."

The Inquisitor's scouts waited as Varric met with the new mayor of Crestwood village, and paid a small purse of silver to look after Angela. The mabari sat at the edge of the village, near the forest green. He seemed to be searching for something, thin tail switching slowly.

"Of course we'll look after him. If he won't move, we'll bring him food and water and covering," The mayor said. Varric sighed. He hoped the mabari had the sense to be brought indoors to one of the snug stone huts.

"Thank you, messere. Well, I'll be off." Varric made his way over to the mabari. He patted the beast on the shoulder, warm fur moving under his glove. "Farewell, Angela."

Angela panted at him almost happily as Varric met back up with the scouts in the village square.

"Shall we go now?"

Varric sighed, feeling his heart thud with a new weight in his chest. He couldn't help feeling guilty. "Yes." As they moved out of the village through the woods, Varric hoped Hawke would forgive him from the afterlife. He still had letters to write…..

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Hawke couldn't account for how long she was thrust into more nightmares, each more daring than the last to shock and damage her heart. It felt like hours, could be days. Maybe weeks. Sometimes she passed out from exhaustion and Nightmare let her sleep. For she could be driven to nightmares as easily asleep, of course.

Hawke would wake, jarring against the stone. Sometimes the large spidery creature would be gone, and she'd curl her arms around her legs hurriedly, to stretch stiff muscles, to feel like her body was her own….but the thing would be back, always when her limbs relaxed, taking hold of her legs once more under its crushing fore limbs.

Food and drink were a trial. Oft times Hawke drank from the stream of water on the stones, turning her head to slurp and lap at the water like a beast. She could taste dirt in it, but it didn't stop her from trying to quench her thirst.

Food was offered by Nightmare, but the first time was through such a cruel transition Hawke was loath to put anything to her lips since. She had been put into a pleasant image, Isabela and Merrill opposite her at her mother's table in her dining room in Kirkwall. The children weren't present, but the table was set for a lavish dinner, mutton cooked rare, mixed greens and other vegetables fresh from the market, glasses of wine and brandy set out beside her mother's china. Dessert was waiting on the sideboard and Orana served everyone a hearty portion from all the dishes.

"To you, love," Isabela declared, lifting her glass of brandy. Merrill's eyes twinkled as she raised her own glass. Hawke toasted them in turn and eagerly picked up her fork, slicing off a bite of mutton. Orana had used sage and rosemary to flavor the meat and Hawke's mouth watered as the smells reached her nostrils. She placed the bite into her mouth, when the image faded.

She was back in the Fade, she was sitting cross-legged for a change, the spidery creature merely staring at her. But in her hands was a fistful of rotting meat. As Hawke's teeth moved up and down, she was horrified to discover that was what she was chewing on. She spat out the mouthful, gagging, wiping at the saliva dripping from her mouth with her wet sleeve. Nightmare laughed nearby. She glowered up at the twenty-foot tall thing.

"Give me my sword back and we'll see who's laughing," she growled. Nightmare seemed to stare at her, through its hood. Again, Hawke was struck with the notion it did not have eyes but was still sensing her. It was a harrowing thought.

"No weapons. No armor. How can you think to defeat me? When I can see what makes you fear living…"

Hawke's shoulders slumped. It was true, her breastplate had been taken when she was sleeping, her greaves too. Only her gauntlets remained, and the metal chafed on her forearms without her gloves. The last symbol of the mark of the Champion. Hawke glowered through her damp bangs. She knew she looked a sight, like a bedraggled urchin in the gutter. She didn't know how long she'd been here, and a bath had not been an option the whole way.

Hawke wanted to be brave, to tell Nightmare to bring it, but her heart was already heavy with all she'd seen and been shown. She only hoped she could survive further assault.

End for now

End notes: Abit shorter, but we'll be getting along in plot :P More for Hawke's family! Leave a review. I think "Take me to church" by Hozier expresses Hawke's union with Isabela fittingly.

Pen 2/1/2020