.xxvi.
"Aleka. Aleka!"
Someone is calling her, but she doesn't want to move, doesn't want to respond. She's too tired. She presses her eyes shut tighter, willing herself to sink back into abysmal slumber.
"Aleka!" Deep, incessant, and frustrating, the voice won't stop calling her name. "Aleka, wake up, please!"
She doesn't really want to, but the impassioned plea makes her pry her eyes open. Wherever she is, it's dim, and it takes some time for her vision to adjust. Familiar; that brocade curtain is familiar. Where... the Keep? What could she possibly be doing asleep in the Keep?
"Her eyes are open!" another voice announces, not the one from before, a woman, well known though it seems like it's been so long since she's heard it.
A face comes into focus above her own, brow wrinkled with concern, the corners of her hazel eyes crinkling the way they always do when she's worried. Her heart jumps. Bethany. It's Bethany.
"Beth...?" she asks, reaching for her sister.
"And she still remembers your name. That's a good sign." Anders, she recognizes. Her head snaps to where he stands, making a short bout of dizziness assault her, but there he is, crouching beside her sister, looking equally concerned.
"But does she know her own?" That's Aveline, calm and collected as ever, standing just behind them, watching over their shoulders with the air of a concerned mother.
"Depends on how much she's had tonight. Just a look at an ale and she starts staggering." Carver. Smart ass. Despite his unconcerned approach, he is kneeling on the tile beside her, holding her hand supportively.
She forces herself to sit up, eyes still locked on her sister in an effort to keep from dizzying.
"Sister! Are you alright?" Bethany takes hold of her face and checks her eyes, rotating her head.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." She waves her sister's worried hands away. "I think. What happened?"
"You collapsed." Fenris! She turns to find him perched behind her, supporting her by her shoulders. He offers her a small, calming smile and her heart jumps at sight. He is more and more handsome every time she looks at him. It's like when she doesn't see him she forgets how beautiful he is.
"Have you eaten today? Are you getting enough sleep?" Bethany renews her efforts at investigation, brushing hair out of the way and testing her tracking ability with a finger. Hawke takes her sister's hand away with a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm fine. Like Carver said, probably too much to drink."
"Now stop fretting, love," Anders commands gently, taking Bethany's hand and helping her to her feet. She smiles up at him, lost to the world for a moment.
"Oh, get a room you two," Carver snorts, tossing his head. Bethany shoots him a sly look. "Oh we will when you stop kissing Merrill when you think no one can see you."
Carver goes beet red, and mutters something about getting a glass of water before bolting out the door.
"Nice one," Hawke commends her little sister, who smiles brightly.
"We'll leave you to recuperate. Come get us if you start feeling faint or sprout any extra limbs or anything," Anders offers with a grin. Now Bethany is the one tugging him to the door, shaking her head.
"Feel better, Sister!" she calls out over her shoulder before leaving the room, Aveline following.
She pushes to her feet, and Fenris offers her his hand which she gratefully takes, not trusting her own legs at the moment. When she is safely seated on a plush bench, he settles down beside her.
"Are you eating enough?"
She scoffs at his question. "Oh don't you start too. Of course I am!"
"Are you getting enough sleep?"
"Fenris honestly, I'm fine!" she laughs, more than a little pleased at his intent questioning.
"You... worried me."
"Promise not to again." She reaches out and brushes a lock of white hair out of his eyes. He reaches up and twines his fingers with hers.
"Please don't." His voice is low and gruff, and he's leaning toward her, eyes locked on her lips. She is again struck by how perfect he is; the fine line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth as he approaches-
Sudden lightheadedness washes over her again and she braces herself against him, grabbing hold of his arms and biting her lip, working to stay upright.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling it again?" As soon as he speaks, though, the feeling is gone, almost as if it had never been there.
"Ah, just an aftershock I suppose. In fact, I'm feeling much better now." It's mostly true. She stands and takes a deep breath, catching snippets of cheering from outside the room, which she has now placed as Aveline's office. "We're in here missing the festivities? That won't do. Come on!" She grasps his hand, gently tugging him to the door. She wants to dance. It feels like she hasn't had fun in forever.
"I don't think you should-" Before he can protest anymore, she's pulled him into the party proper.
It's amazing. Hundreds people are swirling around in brightly colored party clothes, dancing in time to the cheerful music. Lights twinkle in the chandeliers, servers twine in and out of the crowds with gleaming silver platters and goblets. A waltz is beginning, and couples are joining up all over the floor.
"I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no." Fenris says firmly, following her gaze to the dance floor. "I don't dance, and right now you don't need to. We should go back-"
"Look at Mother and Father!" she laughs, pointing across the room. Sure enough, Malcolm Hawke is exuberantly spinning a reluctant Leandra about the floor, grinning devilishly through his white streaked beard. He dips her low and she squeals in delight, clutching his back. Fenris sighs, crossing his arms. She looks pleadingly at him. "Just one dance?"
"If you promise to take a break afterwards, very well."
Not giving him a chance to change his mind, she shoots off down the hall towards the dancers. Isabela intercepts her, grabbing her by the arm.
"You look marvelous. I told you that dress was perfect."
"I will admit you chose well."
"Of course I did. I always do."
They spin past Ser Emeric, who nods to the both of them with a small smile that tips the edges of his beard up. "Serah Hawke." His partner smiles as well, a young elven enchanter from the Circle. She smiles warmly. "Hello again, Hawke!"
Before they can say much else, the music draws them away. Isabela dips her showily, much to the amusement of the other guests.
"I hope I'm not making your date jealous," Hawke grins. The dark haired woman tosses her head in amusement, bright gold jewelry, and gold brocade gown catching the candle light. "I doubt Varric will mind too terribly much. Besides, he's been eyeing another woman all night."
"Bianca doesn't count."
"You try and say that when Fenris starts offering his sword drinks and not you."
A distinctly Ferelden song begins to play as the previous Antivan style waltz ends and Bela bows, with a big grin. She goes twirling off into the crowd. Looking around for another partner before Fenris comes to drag her away from the fun, she catches Aveline's eye. The guards woman is grinning ear to ear, having recognized the tune. They pair up, and she sees Carver throwing his head back in genuine laughter. He's always enjoyed this dance.
No over-thinking it, she allows the rhythm to wash over her and reacts to it, locking arms with Aveline and swinging around to the next person, moving in set patterned lines. Those who aren't dancing are clapping in time, cheering them on. Varric, Isabela, Merrill, Carver, and her mother all meet her coming one way. Her father is at the end of the line, eyes twinkling with the intensity of his smile.
"You look beautiful tonight, darling," he tells her as the music begins to reach its climax, signally the end of the dance.
"You don't look so bad yourself!" Her laughs outright at her, lifting her by the waist and swinging her in an arc through the air. The cheers get louder.
"Fenris is a Maker-blessed man." At the mention of him she casts her glance around the room, finding him leaning against the wall, watching the other dancers with a small smirk. "I am a blessed woman." The last strains play, ending as the music swells for the last time, and the assembly applauds.
"You'd better claim him for the next dance. I heard the Comte de Launcet's daughters speaking appreciatively of him. I on the other hand, better go find your Mother." With a last affectionate pat, he sends her on her way, toward the corner where Fenris is perched. He scowls a little bit less when he sees her approaching, straightening up and making an effort to brush the wrinkles out of his pristine clothes.
"That was more than one," he scolds.
"I got a little carried away," she admits sheepishly. "And besides, I'm alright. See?" Spreading her arms, she turns in a little circle, the plentiful skirts of her dress twirling in tandem. "No harm done."
"Even so, we had an agreement."
With over-exaggerated annoyance, she assents, taking his offered arm and following him past those eagerly preparing for the next dance, past Carver and Merrill with arms wrapped around each other; past Anders and Bethany who are speaking to one of their associates from the Circle Karl Thekla; past Sebastian who is instructing Isabela on the next dance; past her parents who smile and wave at them as they walk by; and past Seamus Dumar, who is excitedly introducing his friend Ashaad to a couple of bewildered looking people.
They do not go to Aveline's office, but one of the other rooms located outside of the throne room where the sounds of revelry grow fainter. Away from the energy and excitement of it all, fatigue does grip her a little, a strange feeling accompanying it, but she ignores it, not wanting to worry Fenris any more than she already has.
She ventures a question as they bass through the room onto the balcony, noticing his odd silence and fixed gaze on her. "You haven't been enjoying this, have you?"
"Parties can be... wearying. But this has been...nice. I have enjoyed spending the evening with you." He looses her arm and leans on the balcony, staring out into the star speckled night sky.
Joining him, she puts her weight on one arm and threads her other one through his."Ever improving upon that flattery of yours, I see."
His head dips, bashful smile crossing his features.
"Bethany and Anders seem very happy," she mentions, genuinely glad to see her little sister so taken with her good friend. They make a nice couple.
"Yes, they do. It was very generous of the Viscount for offering to host Anders and your sister's engagement party."
"We have Seamus to thank for that." She leans on the stone railing next to him, shoulders brushing. "She used to talk about getting married all the time as a child. She was always afraid that she'd never get the chance, being a mage on the run from the Circle."
"And now she has, thanks to the changes they've made. I overheard Isabela taking bets on which Hawke sibling would be getting married next."
"Meddlesome pirate. Doesn't she have anything better to do? Like raid a few noble vessels, or piss of the Qunari again, something? Though if the way Carver and Merrill were looking at each other was any indication, I'd put them up there." He slips an arm around her face, speaking into the gathered up tresses of her hair.
"I may have let slip that my bet was on us."
Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she laughs quietly, face burning with the intensity of her blush.
"Is that so? I suppose I'll have to change my wager. When were you planning on telling me we were throwing the competition?" Her heart is racing as she casually flirts, as it always does when she's around him.
"Now." He draws her face up to his, noses touching, lips just a breath away. "Marry me."
Part of her wants to laugh, surely this must be a joke. He's too used to picking up and leaving, running if the odds are not in his favor, it's all he's ever known. Marriage is too much of a commitment, isn't it? If she laughs now, she can hide how much she wants this to be true.
She opens her mouth to ask if he's being sincere, but he presses his mouth to hers. The contact is weakening. She has never been able to resist him. She has always wanted this. Nothing else matters now.
"Marry me, Ava," he demands.
Ava.
Her blood turns to ice.
She shoves him away, lurching back.
"'Ava'? Why did you call me that? That's not my name." She's stumbling away, and he's following, reaching after her. "You've never called me anything but 'Hawke'."
"Come back to me," he commands, extending his arms. Something is wrong about him, something terribly obvious. How did she not see that before? He looks different. His hair is parted wrong and his eyes aren't set right on his face- everything about him is off.
"This-this isn't right, you aren't right," she's shaking her head, quickly approaching the corner of the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye she notices her friends and family filing in. They look wrong too. The world is changing, shifting and twisting.
"Listen to him, darling," her Father prods, reaching for her, beckoning her forward. "Come here, don't run from us."
"No." Vivid snippets of the past flash in her mind. Her father, as he was when she had last seen him, smiling, unaware of what was to come. "You're... you're dead, Father. I remember your last words. You told me I was in charge then. I was responsible for keeping everyone safe." Her little sister draws closer. "I failed. Bethany, I couldn't save you either."
"That was all a bad dream, Sister," she tries to mollify. "Everything is fine now. All is well."
"No. It isn't. Mother, you're gone too. I wasn't fast enough." Mother shakes her head. "Listen to us. This is how things should be. You saved us all, remember?"
She ignores the fake consolation. "And you, Carver, you've been tainted. You had to leave. I sent you to that slow death." He gives her a lopsided grin. "Stop being dramatic, Sister. Crack one of your stupid jokes and let's get back to the party."They keep encroaching upon her. "I failed you. This isn't right. This is an illusion."
Clarity hits her like a force blast and she remembers everything, where she is truly. What the reality of the situation is. In light of her understanding she ceases to cower, standing up straight and holding out her hands to ward the invasive beings back.
"Away from me demons, in the Maker's name! 'The one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, she shall know true peace!'"
Collectively, they all draw back with the exception of one, who continues to draw closer, eyes set on her.
"'O Maker, hear my cry: Guide me through the blackest nights, steel my-" Fenris grabs her by the neck, cutting her off mid chant, hoisting her off the ground and tossing her through the air like a rag doll. She lands on the flat, cold stones of the balcony, rolling into the barrier surrounding the edge. Her dress twists around her legs, ripping as she goes.
"That does work on my minions, but not on me."
She scrambles to her feet, attempting to throw up a magical barrier, but nothing comes. "Danarius. I should have known. You're a terrible actor, you know."
He tsks, and with a wave of his hand the demons wear her friends' guises no more. They hiss and jeer at her. Danarius, however, does not change. He pretends to be Fenris but now his semblance is obvious. Fenris would never stare at her with those cold eyes. He is not capable of such cruelty, despite it being visited upon him by the monster in front of her.
"Ah. I was too eager. Gave myself away. Pity, really, it was great fun. You have such beautiful dreams, full of color and life. And what quaint hopes you have: surrounded by the ones you love, all happy and safe." He reaches out and brushes the face of one of the Shades, making it's form flicker briefly into that of her her little sister. "And you remember people so vividly, even with all the time that has passed." She sneers at him, forcing down the urge to tear his arms off for touching Bethany. 'Not her, that's not her' she reminds herself, even as the thing leans into the magister's touch, an expression of ecstasy on it's face.
"Release me from this hallucination."
"I could feel how much you wanted me. How your body warmed to mine. Do not pretend you felt nothing."
She nearly gags. "You're disgusting."
"I'm right. There's no need to be afraid. Come back to me. You've suffered so much. This doesn't have to be unpleasant for you. We can work together. We can be together."
His offer might be tempting if he wasn't included. Seeing her family again, everyone safe and sound...
But it's a lie. It will always be a lie, no matter how much she wants it to be true.
"Get away from me. You know what my answer is." She hoists herself onto the stone rail, swinging her legs over the side. "Release me or I will make my own way out."
"You will give in, one way or another, I assure you my little bird."
The sky begins to melt, stars falling in fiery streaks.
She jolts upward wrenching her arms from the twisted mess of her blankets. A dream. All a dream. "In, out, in, out," she breathes, trying to dispel the lingering terror of the dream. The faces of her family and friends. Fenris...
Alba enters, looking surprised to see her awake.
"Bonum manum, Ava. The Master calls for you."
With a weary sigh, she drags herself out of bed and readies herself for another day of work.
Author's Note: Ah! Sorry for the late post guys! Life always seems to get in the way you really want to write. Anywhere, here is 26. Would you believe we're only a little over the projected length of this piece of crap story?
Hope you guys are still liking it! Please leave reviews if you have any thoughts, ideas, or criticism to share. I'm open to all!
Next up: Carver finally stops throwing up. Thank the Maker! Stay tuned!