.xxx.
Hawke can't sleep.
Fury keeps her up into the night. She paces, and when she physically cannot bring herself to do so anymore, she collapses on her bed, arms spread, legs hanging over edge and toes grazing the dirt floor. Her head is spinning, though if it is Alba's revelation or the scant meals she's been allotted, there is no telling. It's difficult just to lie there, every muscle in her body aches. And so, so very tired.
She shouldn't be as irate as she is, she had been quietly formulating a plan of escape. It had been her intent to find some way to escape early on in the first days of her servitude, but her plans had been quickly shot down: Danarius had the only key to the collar that kept her power bottled up, and to escape him would mean death by the thing before she could find someone skilled enough to remove it without killing her.
"Bastard," she hisses for what may be the millionth time, voice soft and nonthreatening in the least. She is so weak. Even lying stationary on the bed seems a challenge. And she has done this to herself out of her foolish pride. Perhaps she was wrong in thinking that they could not protect themselves. Whatever she mistakenly thought before, doesn't matter. "I should just kill him."
She will kill him.
It abruptly becomes clear to her what she must do. She cannot escape him without dying, and abandoning the other slaves to their continued subservience, and that is not an option. The way things are, either she dies trying to get away from him, dies serving the monster for the rest of her life, however long that may be. But the third choice: she dies. But she takes him with her.
The pieces begin to fall into place. It's not as if she hasn't faced death before. This is no different. She'll have the best chance at his masquerade. He had informed her days ago that she would be dressed and displayed for all to see, and that she was expected to behave. A possession. A pet. If Danarius intended to drag her around all evening, certainly at some point she could find a way to end his life. And in doing so, she can protect Fenris, protect all of them. Fix her foolish mistake.
"You won't have him, you snake," she breathes, picking herself up.
It is a tremendous effort, but she makes it to the main room of the slave quarters, carefully shuffling around the sleeping forms of those unfortunate without real beds. Quietly, she takes a quill, ink pot, and blank piece of crumpled parchment from Alba's desk, sneaking back to her own curtained space. By the light of the moon, she begins her last letter, cross legged on the floor, in the dirt.
My dearest companions,
If this letter finds you, then I have died, hopefully successful in my mission.
I tried to protect you all. Perhaps I was a fool for not thinking you capable of protecting yourselves. I had hoped that in signing myself over to Danarius' possession that I would be able to escape and warn you of the danger coming especially you, Fenris. I could not bear to see you in his clutches again, I couldn't. I overestimated my abilities. That doesn't matter now, though, if I have done what I came here to do.
This is my last letter to you. An apology for the last, and a thank you.
Varric, I'm sorry for the anticlimactic ending to this tale. Feel to use your artistic license to make it more interesting. Something involving dragons. Lots of dragons. Possibly me as a dragon, just a thought. Thank you for telling my story, and for letting me be part of yours.
Aveline, take good care of Kirkwall for me, please? That suicidal city has grown on me. Live long and get old with Donnic. Have lots of redheaded babies. I was fortunate to encounter you when escaping Lothering. Thank you for your friendship, even when it wasn't so convenient for you.
Anders, behave yourself while I'm gone. Take care of yourself, too. There is no mage rights movement if there's no one behind it. Thank you for teaching me so much. I'll miss working in the clinic with you. Stay safe.
Isabela, I hope your days on the sea are long and many, Captain. I knew I always said I'd visit Antiva with you. Rain check? Don't anger any more religious sects, please. Thank you for all the fun, and for dragging me home when I had too much to drink.
Merrill, keep working on those spells we practiced. I think you were on the verge of something great. Make sure to go out and get some sun, or you'll wilt. I'll never forget all of our talks, thank you for telling me so much about your people. And don't let one mistake foil you. I believe in you.
Sebastian, follow your heart. If you do only what you think is expected of you and not what you want, you'll never find contentment. Trust the Maker. He knows what he's doing better than we do. Thank you for your guidance exactly when I needed I, I have no doubt the Maker made sure our paths would cross. May Andraste guide you.
Carver, I'll miss you. I'm sorry we didn't always agree. And I'm sorry for letting the last of the Hawke line fall on your shoulders. Thank you for putting up with me all those years, little brother. I'll say hello to everyone for you.
Gamlen & Charade, take good care of each other. You have a lot of lost time to make up for. I'm sorry we never got to know each other as well as I would have liked, Charade. You are everything I wanted in a cousin. Gamlen, remember what's important. Thank you for everything.
Fenris,
This one is the hardest to write. The quill hovers over the paper, shaking. There is so much she wants to say, so much she wants to tell him. There aren't words for how much she cares about him, and not enough space at the bottom of the paper she has filled with shaking scrawl. How can she tell him how sorry she is for selfishly pursuing him, and subsequently repulsing him? How sorry she is for taking advantage of him when it was so much wiser to stay away?
Fenris, I'll miss you dearly. You deserve more than you have been given. It has always been my desire to give you everything I could. I hope you find happiness, and peace. I will always hold our times together close to my heart. Thank you for everything, and, I'm sorry.
I wish I could say more to all of you. Too many words and too little space. My father used to tell me: no goodbyes, just good memories. I've never much liked goodbyes, so that will have to do.
I love you all.
Aleka Hawke
She signs the crinkled paper with finality, folding it delicately and holding it close, parting with the last delusions of seeing them again. Letting go of the last of lingering hope.
It hurts, but there is no other way.
"Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental," she chuckles quietly, swiping away a few tears.
She folds the wrinkled paper carefully and tucks it in her bodice, close to her heart. And then she begins to prepare herself for the end.
Author's Note: Agh! Writing this one was terrible. Fenris :'(
MC: Wow, you really think so! I didn't know if I wanted him throwing people over board, or bottling it up. Guess I picked the right one!
To my new followers/faves: I see you guys there:D And I'm happy to see each of you! Thank you very much!
Next chapter: The Merry Band decides to work with Primus. What will they learn? How long before Fenris snaps and kills someone? Does Varric's chest hair go grey when he's anxious? Stay tuned!