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Two spiders, the sizes of horses, crawled down the wall of the cave in haste, their shadows flickering from the torchlight and their jittering sounds clicking sharply that echoed off the walls. Lyra pulled back another arrow and released it, piercing one of the beasts through the head and causing it to fall abruptly to the ground below, its outer carapace cracking from the impact with the stone. The other reached the ground next to its fallen brother, and Lyra panted as she quickly holstered her bow and unsheathed her daggers.
The spider lunged at her with a snarl and hiss, and she dodged to the side out of instinct, her thighs tightening as she stopped her momentum with a crouch before springing towards the spider's side. She brought her daggers down together, stabbing the spider in the side of its abdomen, killing it quickly before it had the chance to turn on her.
"Nice one, Robin!" Isabela yelled to her side, and Lyra glanced over with a smile to see the other rogue kill another spider in a similar fashion, the pirate's curved daggers dripping with the beast's remains.
"Nice yourself, love," Lyra teased lightly, and Isabela sauntered over to her with a grin, resting one of her daggers on her hip.
"Look at us, the deadly dueling angels! No wonder the boys take us with them," she winked at Lyra, and Lyra nudged her and smiled widely. Hawke and Fenris joined up, broadswords dripping. Hawke's blues flashed over Lyra before hesitantly meeting Isabela's.
"You both okay?" he asked awkwardly, and Lyra blinked as Isabela chuckled loudly.
"We're rightly swell, Hawke," she saluted him before turning to Lyra and leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Well, at least your bloke knows some good tits when he sees 'em, yeah?"
She giggled to herself as she walked down the cave, and Lyra scratched her head before looking sideways to their leader. Hawke was focused on wiping his sword, his shoulders tensed. He was unusually quiet, and Lyra wondered. Something happened in their relationship?
She heard the soft steps of her barefooted companion behind her, and she looked behind her to meet the greens of her fellow elf. He gave her a half smile and slid his hand over her lower back, lightly squeezing her hip. She smiled at him before catching Hawke eyeing them.
Hawke smiled from seeing them, from Fenris so openly showing affection, but Lyra could see it not completely reach his eyes. I will ask him later, if he would like to talk about it; whatever happened between him and Isabela. I can see it weighing on him.
He seemed to mentally shake himself before summoning his smile back, the light entering his eyes again. "Cave, cleared. Thank you all for helping me with this mine. The profit's nice, the spiders aren't."
He set off with renewed energy in his step, and the other three followed behind, exiting the cave and shielding their eyes from the sun.
"Drinks… drinks after all that. Little Robin?" Isabela started before they all stopped in their tracks, seeing a familiar blond mage running up the many steps that led to the mine. Anders was huffing, sprinting up the steps, sweat dripping and hair disheveled. Hawke immediately jogged down the steps to meet him.
"Anders?" he started, and the mage hunched over when they all reached each other, resting hands on his knees to catch his breath. He got out his message between pants.
"Hawke… it's Bethany… I thought she was safe in the clinic, I thought… I thought we were all safe-"
"Bethany?" Hawke stopped him, tone dead serious. Lyra looked at their leader with wide eyes, never having seen him this intense before. Anders straightened up, his brows knitted together in worry, his face flushed from running all the way from Kirkwall.
"Someone tipped off the Templars. We need to get back."
Hawke breathed in and nodded, taking out a stamina potion from his belt and giving it to Anders in one hand, squeezing his shoulder in thanks with the other. He looked over at the three other companions but Isabela beat him to words.
"I'm with you, sweet Bethany…"
Lyra nodded and met Hawke's gaze firmly. "We must hurry."
Fenris nodded silently, and the five turned and made off down the steps, starting at a jog and following Hawke's increasing speed. As they ran, thoughts flew through Lyra's mind, watching the stress build in her friend's shoulders. Bethany, no… the Circle here, she can't… Hawke must be distraught in worry…
The five sprinted without slowing, turning a bend into the outskirts of Kirkwall, and suddenly Lyra felt an instinctual fear stab her gut. Her eyes flew around them, seeing the hills on either side and, the rocks where behind could be a perfect ambush-
"Up above!" Lyra shouted, seeing a robed man stand up from the bushes, holding a staff and summoning a ball of fire. Her friends stopped abruptly and scattered, away from the spot that the fireball streamed down towards.
Lyra knocked an arrow, Isabela twirled her daggers, and Fenris and Hawke held their swords in ready stances. The man stood on the edge of the cliff above, peering down at them with a smirk of disgust.
"You there, you are in possession of stolen property! Release the slave immediately!" he glared down at Fenris like he was the most insignificant insect. Lyra's eyes narrowed. How dare he look at him like that. Her blood boiled.
"Fenris is not a slave!" Hawke yelled angrily, and Lyra glanced over at the elf, noticing his overly tight grip on his sword, the way his shoulders started to shake.
"Of course," Fenris said softly to himself, shaking his head, staring off into the distance. "Of course, he's still coming after me. It was only a matter of time"
"Release the slave, and we'll only capture you," the magister yelled, pulling out a knife. He reached out to his side and grabbed the scrawny arm of a teenage elf, dressed in rags, and barely enough meat on his bones. The boy simply looked up at the magister with fearful eyes, but made no move to resist. The magister nonchalantly gripped the boy's arm from the wrist, held his knife to the skin, and sliced a jagged gash down the boy's arm to the elbow, causing him to cry out in pain and blood to spill over his hands. The magisters eyes gleamed sadistically, and he smiled cruelly down at them as the blood flowed over his hands. "Fight, and we'll kill you all."
Lyra shot an arrow, aimed straight for his heart, but a wall of blood magic rose up and shielded him before it could hit. Hawke yelled out as he sprinted towards the slope, and Fenris and Isabela closely followed. Anders shot bolts of his magic from his staff as Lyra shot arrow after arrow at the magister, forcing him to block them and distracting him when her companions reached him.
More mages arrived in waves, each accompanied by elven slaves dressed poorly with swords and armor. Hawke and his companions fought them, his team more powerful than usual with five of them instead of four, and with a balanced combination of skills. Anders healed them all as the fighting came to an end, with Isabela yanking her daggers from a body and Hawke finishing off some with a final blow. Lyra backed up Fenris as he kicked the magister in the stomach, causing him to fall back and sprawl on the ground.
"Ah!" he held his stomach where an arrow had struck, and Lyra glanced at Fenris to see him fuming. The elf kicked him while he lay on the ground, making the magister cry out in pain, and then kicked him again, making him flip over onto his stomach from the force.
Fenris stood over the bleeding man and crouched down on top of him, reaching out with his armored hand and gripping the hair on the back of his head.
"Where. Is he?" Fenris slammed his face into the ground before yanking his face up, making the magister cry out again. Hawke and the others gathered around.
"I, I don't, I-!"
Fenris slammed his face again, his whole body tensed in anger, his greens piercing the man sharply.
"Talk!"
"Okay! Okay," he started, panting in pain, blood gushing from his broken nose and teeth. "It's not him, it's her," he gasped, but that answer only seemed to make Fenris angrier. His grip in the man's hair tightened and he yanked him up closer to his face, and the man whimpered. "It's, it's Lady Hadriana that brought us, I swear…"
Lyra watched Fenris roughly handle the man, a knot of worry tightening her stomach from the sight. I've seen him angry before. But I've never seen him this angry. She glanced up and met Hawke's eyes, his also worried.
"Where? Where can I find her?" Fenris growled, and the man gasped out an answer.
"In the Holding caves! That's where she'll be, I swear! I swear…" he sobbed, struggling slightly, and Fenris nodded to himself before the man began to plead. "Please, please just, just let me go, I just-"
"No," Fenris snarled, and violently jerked his head, snapping his neck and killing him instantly. He stood from the body and locked eyes with Hawke. His voice lowered in anger, his eyes narrowed in hate. "Hadriana. The only person I want to kill as much as Danarius. She's come for me, on his command."
Hawke glanced over at Anders, who met his gaze knowingly. He looked back at Fenris, pain in his expression. "We knew this would come. We will deal with her. You have my word, Fenris. But my sister, she's-"
"I don't have time, Hawke!" Fenris yelled, impatient. "Danarius is sending men to kill you and capture me as we speak, I need to go after her now," he fumed and gripped his hands into fists, and Hawke tried to reason, softening his voice.
"We will get them, Fenris, we will, we will go to the Holding caves and you will have your justice, but Bethany is in danger right n-"
Fenris lost it, his greens narrowing as he pointed his finger into Hawke's chest. "Bethany will be fine, Hawke, the Templars aren't out to kill her, the Circle is a blessing for mages and you need to wake up and realize it. Just look at what happens when they have power!" he gestured to the dead magisters, as well as the dead slave the magister had mutilated for blood magic. Hawke's brows came together painfully, but he held out a hand to silence whatever Anders was about to yell in response.
"It's fine, Fenris. You don't have to come to defend my sister. I can head to the Holding caves after and offer you back up, if you go there now."
Fenris glared at him and turned away sharply, grinding his jaw in irritation and anger. "Don't bother. I'll have dealt with her by the time you get there."
Lyra watched him silently fume, trying to get his anger under control, and she turned to Hawke, her brows knitted in worry, but he beat her to words as she opened her mouth.
"Go with him," he said quietly, and as she looked in his eyes, he asked her silently, 'Please, look after him for me.'
She nodded to him, smiling at him appreciatively, and looked over to meet Fenris's gaze, green eyes softening considerably as they rested on hers, his voice lowering as he reached out to touch her arm unconsciously. "Lyra, you don't have to-"
She stopped him by raising a hand. Her voice was soft, soothing out the rough edges of his anger, but firm. "I am with you." she holstered her weapons, tightening a few straps on her boots, and shook out her legs in preparation for long distance running. She met his eyes, smiling at him reassuringly, and wiping away much of the fear driving his anger. "And we will be followed and joined by Hawke, when he can. We will catch her."
Fenris stared at her for a few seconds, looking between her eyes, and she could see the the angry energy pulse lower, dimmer. He sighed deeply and nodded, reaching out and softly brushing her cheek with an armored hand. She smiled at him as he glanced over to Hawke and nodded to him without meeting his eyes, before he turned and set off at a jog in the direction of the Holding caves.
Lyra met Hawke's eyes, he and the others also preparing to run back to Kirkwall. He smiled at her softly, his eyes still full of worry. "We will see you again, soon enough. Good luck."
"You too," Lyra took off after Fenris, while behind her her three companions made for Lowtown. Her stomach knotted in worry, looking at the tensed shoulders of Fenris ahead of her. We are a capable pair, but to enter the Holding caves on our own… Please, be careful, Fenris.
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"Fenris! Wait!" Lyra yelled from across the cavern. He barely heard her, the damned elf, always barging ahead without a worry for his own. Damn him, I have so many grey hairs because of him.
She sprinted across the empty cavern, feeling extremely uneasy from naturally being at a disadvantage by being a rogue without any cover. She reached the tunnel he had disappeared into, and heard fighting up ahead. Shit. She heard an explosion, and maniacal laughter, probably from Hadriana, and she bounded around the corner, ready and eager to shoot the bitch who hurt Fenris.
Fenris was a reaving weapon, hammering the blood magister with his two handed sword, throwing himself into battle and giving his all into every swing. Seconds passed and Lyra shot arrow after arrow, beating down on Hadriana's shields and distracting her from her spells, allowing Fenris to slip through her attacks and reach her. He ran through her spells so recklessly, with no worry for his safety, and Lyra felt stabs of fear as he raised his sword to strike her.
Just then, she disappeared, reappearing on the other side of the room, and causing Fenris to stumble forward, having sliced downwards through air. Lyra's eyes flashed to where she appeared to her left, and she swung her bow and shot her the same second she materialized, before her shields could regenerate. The arrow drilled through her stomach, the fletchings catching on her robes so it didn't pass all the way through her. The scream that left her throat filled the caverns in echoes, and before anything else could happen, Fenris sprinted to her once again, and shot his hand through her heart.
She whimpered as he kept her standing, and after a few words, he tensed as she started to laugh. Lyra had felt relieved from hitting her with an arrow and seeing Fenris so close to victory, but the coldest of feelings entered her stomach, and for the second time that day Lyra's heart dropped in instinctual fear as she yelled to her companion.
"Fenris! Get away from her!"
His head twitched in her direction, but her warning was not nearly fast enough.
It felt like slow motion, the way she sprinted to them from across the cavern without a hope of reaching them in time, how Hadriana cackled as she took a spiked metal ball out of the folds of her robe, and how Fenris squeezed her heart to kill her, thinking that would end it.
Lyra screamed, but it was drowned out by the explosion.
She and Fenris were blown backwards, but everything was silent. Or at least, Lyra couldn't hear anything as she blinked and watched fire fall all around her like flaming hail. She felt a dull throbbing in her head, her back felt like it was ripped open from lying down on the stone ground, and she turned to her side and coughed, blood spattering the ground next to her her.
The loudest ringing heard in her ears, and she cringed as her hearing returned to her She forced herself to her hands and knees, wildly searching around her for her white haired elf.
Fire was everywhere, in patches on the ground, parts of the surrounding cavern walls, falling slowly in the air. A large crater was in the center of the cave, exactly where Hadriana had once been standing. Lyra had feared a self destruct spell upon death as something mad enough for Tevinter mages to pull, but Fenris had not once headed her requests to be strategic and work together, as he had instead ran ahead and thrown himself to danger.
"FENRIS!" she yelled, stumbling around the destruction. Her chest clenched tight in fear, wishing beyond regret he would have just waited so Hawke and Anders could come. She reached the edge of the crater, and she stopped, dead in her tracks, her heart frozen.
He lay there, a bloody mess, with a hole blown through his stomach the size of an apple.
Lyra fell to her knees next to him, staring at the hole the spiked ball had made, and watching the ground around him turn red with his blood. Red mixed with the stark white of his hair, and his eyes were closed, him barely breathing.
"No. No, no. No, no, no, no," Lyra felt the dread set in. That they were alone, in a deep cave in a large cavern, far away from Kirkwall, with no healer, and with Fenris on the verge of death.
She realized, with a start, with a stab of fear, with a overwhelming wave of shame and guilt, it was time.
It's time to stop denying my skills.
Lyra hadn't used magic, for years. For years. Since before she became a grey warden, since she decided to leave her clan instead of becoming the next Keeper.
But now she had absolutely no choice.
"Forgive me," she whispered, before she took off her fingerless gloves and tucked them in her belt. Her hands were dirty from the fighting and the traveling, so she wiped them as best as she could before kneeling right beside Fenris. She concentrated, aware that she hadn't had to use this skill in so long, she would be more than rusty if she was not careful. She had almost forgotten the dried up mana stores buried deep somewhere within her. She knew how to heal life threatening injuries, but the last time she had, she was only 16, still an apprentice to the Keeper and healing a man she barely knew. Now, she was in her twenties, much more experienced but definitely not in magic, healing a man she cared much more about than she could admit.
Also a man who, when he finds out I have lied to him about my identity, will never trust me again.
Lyra focused on the wound in front of her, blocking out her insecurities and her fears, and poured her unused mana into her hands, causing them to glow yellow. It felt alien to use this untouched part of her again, but she ignored the uneasy feeling, focusing instead on saving Fenris's life.
The healing energy poured from her hands faster than she had remembered, realizing her mana supply was so low due to her lack of practice. And yet she poured as much as she could, watching the hole in his chest begin to stitch together, and feeling the drain on her energy.
Minutes passed, and Lyra panted in exhaustion, pushing herself farther than she had ever pushed her body before, her arms beginning to shake from fatigue and the edges of her vision fading to darkness.
Stay awake. Stay awake. Keep healing. Keep healing.
Lyra had no idea how long she had been kneeling there, but she noticed the fire around them had died down. She was panting, sweating, utterly exhausted from her expenditure of the entirety of her mana, but was conscious enough to recognize that she had healed him enough. The hole in his stomach had been stitched together, and she knew the internal organs were healed properly. However messy her work was, it was good work, and she knew he would live.
But will I make it?
Her vision started to flicker, and she shook her head, trying to remain conscious. She saw Fenris's eyelids twitch, and the last thing she could remember feeling was the immense relief from seeing him awake.
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Pain, everywhere. His head was throbbing, his spine felt like he had been slammed on the ground multiple times, and he was soaked in something wet, warm and sticky, and he slowly realized it was his own blood.
Lyra.
The thought of her shocked his senses awake, and he breathed in deeply, for some reason not feeling any pain in his abdomen. Though that was where… Hadriana had…
He groaned as he sat up, and he looked around him, seeing the effects of the explosion, and to his left, saw Lyra curled on her side. Immense relief flowed through him when he realized she was breathing, and he placed a hand on her cheek, worried that she looked so unnaturally pale.
After ensuring they were in no immediate danger, he turned to her and was pulling her into his arms when he noticed. He noticed, the apple sized hole in his chest plate, with freshly healed skin underneath. He blinked, confused, and he remembered, the spiky ball Hadriana had held between them before she literally exploded in front of him. The ball must have…
...gone straight through my stomach? But how am I alive? He looked at Lyra, unconscious in his arms. And how did she get over here?
He felt a very, very cold feeling enter his chest and spread through his veins. He shook his head, staring at her face. No. No way, she could have healed me. There's no way, no way. His hand felt the skin on his stomach, the scarring evident of a fresh healing. A fresh magic healing.
No. No. There must be an explanation. No. There's no way she's...
He shook his head and decided he can worry about that later. Right now, Lyra and he were both in serious conditions, and he grimaced in pain and anger, knowing it was his fault they were here alone. I should have listened to her when she said to wait. But how could I wait? When my revenge was so close at hand?
He stumbled as he stood, and carried Lyra from the cave, his breath coming short from exhaustion and pain, his worry growing from how pale Lyra had become. He held her close to him, looking down at her every few seconds as if to make sure she was still there, and as he reached the entrance to the Holding caves, he saw the unmistakable glint of familiar armor lumbering up from the hill.
Fenris stumbled and leaned against the wall of the entrance for support as Hawke and Anders ran to him, both breathing heavily, and both with looks of defeat in their eyes.
Fenris made a mental note to watch what he says about Bethany, especially if she had just been taken to the Circle. His anger only caused these friends more pain, and holding Lyra in his arms as she seemed to wither away by the second made every last slice of anger freeze into worry.
He couldn't stop thinking, How? How was I healed?
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