"I told you to leave," Hawke said as she slowly walked down the stairs. She was tired, and the strength she had left in her voice surprised her. Her eyes were weary, her heart heavy, and her body exhausted. The weight of the world was upon her shoulders, and she was struggling to keep it together.
Somewhere in her heart, she had hoped that Anders would have left Kirkwall by now. But her head had always known better. He was always one for a cause, a fight, a struggle. No matter the cost.
"I cannot let you do this," Anders replied, his voice slightly cracking as he looked at her with a sense of desperation in his eyes.
"You gave me no choice," she said, her voice steady and firm.
The city was burning, the stench of death was all around them, and they had a knight-commander to meet. Hawke's companions were getting restless. She could feel their eyes upon her, Fenris's green ones in particular. They were waiting for her to make a move, to do something, anything, to get them out of this mess.
But she was struggling to think, to find a way out of this. Anders was standing in front of her, the man she had loved, the man she had given everything to, and he was now her enemy.
She searched for something familiar in his face, something to cling onto, a way to reach him, like she had so many times before. But it was no longer there. The struggle was over. Justice had erased every trace of the man she had loved and replaced him with vengeance.
"I won't fight you," she said, lowering her blades. "I won't fight you." He had torn her heart out earlier that day, torn it out and stepped on the pieces. She had risked open war with Starkhaven over him, but Maker, she did not have the strength to kill him. She could not end his life then, and she sure as hell couldn't do it now.
"I would drown us in blood to keep you safe" had turned into "there is no one in Kirkwall I wouldn't kill to see mages free" when she had been busy fixing other people's problems. He had slipped through her fingers like sand through an hourglass.
"We have to move," Fenris urged, pulling his blade.
He looked eager, the lyrium in his skin lighting up like the sun.
"Lower your weapon, Fenris," Hawke commanded.
"Look at him, Hawke," the elf agitatedly replied. "He will not hesitate to kill us all. I am telling you, I won't let it come to that."
As much as she hated it, Fenris was right. Vengeance was pouring through every crack of Anders' skin as he tightened his grip around his weapon. There was no doubt in her mind that he would kill them without so much as batting an eyelid.
She prayed to the Maker that he would actually go ahead and do it. It would be better to crumble to the earth in her own blood, right here in front of the gallows, then to admit that in spite of it all, she still loved him.
But dying had never been one of her strong suits.
Hawke's heart was racing, and her palms were sweaty around the hilt of her blade. She looked at Varric, who was standing next to her. His face held the same amount of desperation as hers did. This was as much his best friend threatening to kill them all as it was her former lover.
Anders took a step forward, his eyes blazing with an inner fire. The conviction in his voice was palpable as he spoke, "You don't understand, Hawke. This is for their freedom, for all mages, not just myself. You've seen what the Circle and the Templars have done to us, to our kind. I will not let it continue. I will fight for their freedom, even if it means I have to go through you."
Hawke felt her heart ache at the words. She understood what he was fighting for, she had seen the injustices done to mages, but she could not condone the violence and destruction he was causing. She could not stand by and watch as he killed innocent people.
"You're not fighting for freedom, Anders. You're fighting for your own vengeance," she said, trying to reach him. "You're hurting people, innocent people, and for what? To prove a point?"
"I have to make them see," he replied, determination in his voice. "I have to make them understand the injustices we've suffered. I have to make them feel our pain, so they'll know that this cannot continue."
Hawke shook her head, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "It's not about making them feel our pain, Anders. It's about finding a way to coexist, to live together in peace. Violence will not solve this. It will only make it worse."
Anders' face softened, and for a moment, Hawke thought she had reached him. But then, his eyes hardened once again, and he replied, "I'm sorry, Hawke. I truly am. But I have to do this. For our people, for all mages. I hope someday you'll understand."
As Hawke struggled with her thoughts and emotions, Anders took a step forward, his weapon still raised. The desperation in his eyes was quickly turning into anger, and his resolve was growing stronger with each passing moment.
"You must understand, Hawke," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "This is not just about me. This is about all the mages who have been oppressed and tormented by the templars. This is about justice for those who have been wronged. You must see that."
Hawke shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I do see that, Anders. But there has to be another way. A way that doesn't involve so much destruction and loss of life."
Anders' expression grew stern, and he took another step forward. "There is no other way, Hawke. The templars will never stop hunting us, never stop torturing us. It is time to take a stand, to fight back and bring an end to this once and for all."
Fenris stepped forward, his sword at the ready. "Anders, lower your weapon. You are not thinking clearly. This is not the way to achieve your goals."
Anders shot a glare at Fenris, then looked back to Hawke. "I'm afraid there is no other choice. You must put me down, Hawke. You are the only one who can do it. The only one who can end this madness."
Hawke's heart felt like it was breaking all over again. She had never wanted it to come to this, never wanted to have to make this choice. She had loved Anders with all her heart, and now she was being forced to choose between that love and the lives of everyone else in Kirkwall.
"I can't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do it, Anders. I can't kill you."
Anders stepped forward again, his weapon still raised. "You must, Hawke. It is the only way. The only way to put an end to this, to bring an end to the suffering of all mages."
Fenris stepped forward, his sword at the ready. "Hawke, do not listen to him. You do not have to do this."
But Hawke was no longer listening. She was looking into Anders' eyes, seeing the conviction and the determination there. She could tell that he was not going to back down, not going to let this end any other way.
She took a deep breath, her heart heavy with sorrow, and raised her sword.
The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity, their weapons raised, their eyes locked in a deadly stare-down. Neither of them spoke, neither of them moved. It was as if they were frozen in time, waiting for the other to make the first move.
Finally, with a scream of rage and despair, Anders lunged forward, his weapon blazing with magic. Hawke was ready, her own sword at the ready, and she met his attack with her own.