A/N: Thanks very much for the favs/reviews/watches. I appreciate every one.
"Fenris?" she asked, eyes widening. Her eyes shifted up to the roof of a nearby building and Fenris' own eyes followed hers just in time to see a hooded figure leap to the next building.
Fenris knewwho that was. "You came here with him?" he growled.
"Fenris, please. You must understand," Hawke pleaded. "He needs help."
"He needs a fist in his heart," he replied, his voice dripping with venom. "And you're coming with me." In a few short strides, he grabbed the collar of her shirt, tugging her to him.
"What are you doing?" Hawke nearly squeaked.
"You and your petwill get what you deserve, Hawke. You cannot do what you did and get away without retribution."
"Why does everyone keep saying that? Technically I wasn't even knowingly involved in what happened," Hawke scowled, scrabbling to get out of his hands.
Fenris tightened his grip on her collar, pulling the fabric taut over her neck. If she didn't think he was serious before, she knew it now. "Letting him live was enough." With a shove, he ushered her to the door.
"If you were this angry, why didn't you just cut me down in Kirkwall?" Hawke said venomously. She wouldn't use magic on him. He knew that. She knew that he knew that.
Fenris remained tight lipped, continuing to drag her to the door. "See how loyal he is to you? He runs the minute trouble arises, leaving you to your fate."
"Actually, no. I was waiting for you to get distracted," Anders' voice came from behind. Not quite Anders' voice.
Fenris hissed and pushed Hawke to the ground, pressing his foot into her spine to keep her in place. Hawke gasped in pained surprise and squirmed under him. He unsheathed his blade and turned only to be struck backwards by a mana bolt. The scales of his armor sparkled as the magic singed him.
He skidded to a halt, steadying his feet. "You will pay,abomination," he growled.
Anders eyes burned a bright blue as he took a defensive stance. The cracks of his skin vibrated with potential. Hawke could feel the Fade inside of him. The power there scared her. She'd only felt it a few times before, but this time was the most potent. It was so intoxicating that she nearly forgot to roll away from Fenris' foot, but as soon as he was righting himself, she had started to crawl toward Anders.
"Anders!" she cried, tugging at his overcoat. "Please, control yourself."
His eyes cut to her briefly, but he wasn't Anders anymore. "Stand down, Hawke. This one has required judgment for some time." He swung his staff as quickly as lightning, sending another mana bolt hurling toward the elf.
Fenris, not one to be outmatched, dodged the projectile using his sword to balance his movements. In several long strides, he crossed the alleyway, swinging the weapon in an arc toward Anders' chest. Anders moved with inhuman speed, stepping back and bringing his staff around, cracking the head of it against Fenris' temple.
Fenris' movements stuttered, the strike leaving him stunned and stumbling. Anders lifted the bladed end of his sword to the elf's chest.
"Hey! Stop it!" Hawke cried, grasping Anders' leg, her hands igniting with magics that burned through his leggings and into his flesh.
With a howl he turned his rage to her. "I am saving your life and this is how you repay me?" The blade was turned to her, pressing into her chest with heaviness.
Hawke's eyes widened, "Anders, please. I know you're in there. No one has to die."
"They're back here!" Hawke heard from the mouth of the alley.
"Maker's balls," she huffed, her attention split between the blade at her chest and the girl she had just saved with the templar at her heels.
The templar took in the scene and in a moment's notice was on Anders, sword drawn and magic-nullifying abilities sucking the power from his reserves. The area was like a void, the Fade itself being blocked out. Hawke felt her own magic being yanked from her grasp as forcefully as she'd ever experienced.
"Stand down, demon!" the templar cried, raising his blade to Anders' throat as the mage fell to his knees.
Anders' eyes flickered back to their normal amber hue and he gasped in a sickly breath. "Hawke, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I would never hurt you."
Hawke didn't say a word. She merely sat in the dirt, stunned by her loss of magic and so very grateful that the blade was no longer at her heart.
"Stand up!" the templar barked, pressing his blade closer to Anders' pulse. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck. "You too, witch," he indicated to Hawke with a nod of his head.
Hawke paled. She wouldn't fight the templar. He was only doing his job. She couldn't kill him for that even if she had the reserves to do so. She stood on shaky feet, gulping as the templar grasped her neck painfully, dragging her beside him.
Behind Anders, Hawke could see Fenris finally stand. He was still dazed, but at least appeared to be understanding what was happening. For once, Hawke knew that Fenris would not help her. So she watched helplessly as he stood, his face a blank mask. She frowned, turning her eyes toward the ground.
"Fenris!" she heard a familiar voice from the direction of the pub. "What in the Maker's name...?"
"Stand back. I'm escorting these apostates to the Chantry," the templar said firmly, holding a hand out to halt the newcomer.
"Oh, Maker. This is rich," she heard the man laugh. It was Sebastian. How perfect. The sound nearly brought tears to her eyes. She had never heard him sound so ruthless and uncaring. "I come back here because of these two and we find them here."
The templar shifted, placing a hand on both Anders' shoulder and hers. His grip was as hard as steel and as cold as ice and she knew that if either of them tried anything at all, he'd sap them dry again and probably kill them.
"Sir, who could I talk to about having these traitors returned to the Free Marches with me?" Sebastian asked hurriedly before the templar could usher them away. If Hawke drew her eyes from the dirt, she'd have seen the wolf's grin on his face.
"You can speak with the Grand Cleric if you'd like. At a more reasonable hour perhaps." The templar ground his fingers into Hawke's shoulder, urging her forward. "Move your feet or I'll drag you, wench."
Hawke shuffled forward obediently.
"I'm sorry, Hawke," Anders said pitifully. "I'm so, so sorry."
The growing stack of paperwork was starting to spill over her desk. Elissa growled. She wished she could have gone abroad with Alistair. She knew it wasn't an option, but to be stuck here was torture. The morning sun was spilling into the window and already she felt like crawling back into bed.
Three short raps on the door made her sleepy head jerk back up from a particularly long missive from Gwaren requesting an audience to discuss trades or some such nonsense.
"Yes? Come," she said quickly, rubbing the sleep out of her eye with the back of her hand. "Elijah?"
The haggard servant entered the room, shutting the door immediately. His shoulder length black hair was tousled from his recent excursions. "M'lady, I have bad news concerning your charges." The young man stood in the doorway, twisting his cap in his hands.
"Yes? Go on, please." Elissa had been preparing the lyrium required to complete the ritual for Anders. Acquiring so much had been a problem and she was still waiting for her shipment from Orzammar.
"They were captured last night by the templars."
"Shit," she swore. "How many know of this?"
"They are being held in the Chantry under the direct supervision of the Knight-Commander."
"Shit!" she repeated loudly, making the messenger jump. She stood, the legs of her chair scraping the floor with a screech. "Have they made their intentions clear?"
"They plan the Rite of Tranquility, ma'am," Elijah replied.
At this, Elissa pulled her gloves on, buckling the armor in place. "Thank you, Elijah. Send word to Geoffrey that I will be out until later today, no appointments. And go get some sleep."
With that, the queen exited, making her way for the Chantry.
Fenris had searched Hawke and Anders' room thoroughly. He closed the unlatched window and retrieved their bags, poking through them to find anything nefarious. Hawke's bag was clean, containing only her violin, some books and letters, and her father's pipe. His brow furrowed as he turned the letters over in his hand. It felt unfair to read her personal effects, but did it truly matter at this point? He swallowed thickly at the thought.
He put the letters aside and picked up the violin. He scowled, his brow furrowed. She never had a case for the thing. He was surprised it had survived all of these years and still played properly.
-o-o-
"And th-then the Maker sealed the gates of the... Golden City," he swallowed and paused to glance over the sentence. "And there, he... dwelled, waiting to see the won... wonders his children would create."
"Maker, Fenris," Hawke said with widened eyes. "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of your progress."
"Thank you," Fenris coughed under her praise.
"We need to find you something besides the Chant of Light. Perhaps something else you want to study?" She moved, settling back against a few scattered pillows, ignoring the small pieces of rubble that still littered the mansion's floor.
"I enjoy reading the Chant," Fenris admitted, flipping the page.
"Then continue," Hawke smiled, drawing her bow over the strings of her violin, drawing beautiful, quiet music from the previously dormant instrument.
-o-o-
Fenris growled and slid the instrument back into the bag. Snatching up her staff, he tossed the bags over his shoulder and heading back to Sebastian.
Who'd have thought the Chantry would have a cell? Certainly not Hawke. She guessed it made sense to serve as an in-between for mages passing through to the Circle. For the first time, she wished desperately that she had learned shape-shifting magics from the Chasind in the Wilds near Loathering. It'd be much easier to escape if she could just become a mouse or something.
Anders sat like a lump in the corner, still massively traumatized from nearly running her through. Given the circumstances, she was glad that he at least felt bad, but, Maker blast it, it would be helpful if he added his thoughts.
"Anders," she whispered, prodding him.
He didn't respond.
"Anders, for fuck's sake, I forgive you. Now talk with me. Please,"she begged in a hushed voice. When he still didn't respond, Hawke propped up against the bars of the cage. Her eyes turned toward the ceiling as she thought about her predicament. She had survived nearly 30 years outside of the Circle as a free woman. Now she faced not only life in the Circle, but tranquility. Anders was right. It is no viable option for a mage who isn't completely in love with self-loathing. She sighed, resting her head in her palms.
In the distance, she heard the clicking of armor on stone. Someone was coming and they were coming fast.
"I was informed that there were two apostates retrieved," she heard a familiar feminine voice.
"Yes, my Queen. This way," a voice replied, their footsteps struggling to keep up with her blistering pace.
Hawke listened as the steps became more defined. At last the pair rounded the corner and Hawke watched as the queen strode up to their cell. Her long hair lay untamed at her back and she looked down at them with arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"Bring me the Knight-Commander," she said to the accompanying templar. "And bring me the keys to this cell."
"M'lady? These are dangerousapostates," the templar challenged as timidly as one could.
"Ser, I may be the queen, but I am also a Grey Warden. I will not sit by idly as the Chantry assumes control over one of our own." She turned her icy gaze toward the templar. "Now go and fetch the Knight-Commander and the keys."
The templar, looking much like a dog with his tail between his legs, hurried from the room.
At her words, Anders finally turned, his eyes wild. "Elissa? What are you doing?"
"They have no right to keep you, Anders. While you denounce the Wardens, you are still one," Elissa replied.
"You can't leave Hawke here. They will make her Tranquil!" Anders said through gritted teeth.
Elissa looked at Hawke with pity. "There is nothing I can do for her Anders."
Anders was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. "The Rite of Conscription!"
"I've already considered that and it won't work," Elissa said sharply.
"Why?" he all but cried.
"Oh, where should I start? Well, firstly it will appear that an already precariously positioned queen is using her Grey Warden status to save renegade apostates from their fate. I'm taxing that path by saving you and you're already a Grey Warden. Secondly, I cannot give mages in Ferelden more ideas than they've already formed since the tragedy in Kirkwall," she paused, frowning deeply at Anders. "Yes, I received word yesterday and after this I will not hear from you again. Understand?" At his angered nod, Elissa turned to Hawke.
"I'm sorry, Lady Hawke. I wish there was more I could offer you."
"Don't be sorry. I understand," Hawke swallowed. So much for the timely rescue…
Fenris and Sebastian had headed to the Chantry early the next morning in hopes of retrieving Anders and Hawke. The marketplace had yet to fully open, vendors still setting their wares on the stalls and a few servants ready to purchase items for their houses.
"Elissa, please. You have to do something," they heard as they neared the Chantry along with a series of sobs. "You can't just leave her."
"Shut. Up. And walk," a voice replied. "I'll already get an earful from the Grand Cleric later."
As they rounded the corner, they watched as a red-faced Anders was dragged along, hands in chains, by a woman in impressive Warden armor. Sebastian immediately recognized her for Elissa Cousland, now Elissa Theirin. The queen. A Gray Warden.
It took him only moments to realize what had happened. He was being returned to the Wardens. The worthless bastardwas being returned to the Wardens to pretend as if everything he had done, everyone he had killed, the chaos he had caused, hadn't happened.
He walked up to the duo, thrusting his finger in the queen's face. "What are you doing with this abomination?" Anders closed his watery eyes, shaking his head at Sebastian's words.
The queen glared at him in irritation. "Prince Vael. It is nice to see you again."
Sebastian fumed at her pleasantries, "You haven't answered my question."
"I don't know why people keep forgetting this, but I ama Grey Warden, Prince. This man is a Grey Warden and immune from any attacks by the Chantry."
"Attacks by the Chantry? How about the attacks he's made toward it?" Sebastian hissed. "The man in your care is a bloody murderer!"
Fenris stood at Sebastian's back, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold.
"He is by no means a free man, Prince Vael, I can assure you of that. But his fate is the Wardens' to decide. Not the Chantry's and not yours," the queen said seriously. "If you have a problem with this, you can speak with the Commander of the Grey."
"Where is Hawke?" Fenris asked before Sebastian could continue.
"She is at the mercy of the templars, I'm afraid," the queen replied, looking clearly unhappy about the outcome.
"I see," he replied, seemingly unfazed. "It appears as if you can add another casualty to your list, abomination."
"Hawke chose her fate. You lie with dogs, you will get fleas," Sebastian added.
"They won't kill her," Anders replied, sadly. "They will make her Tranquil. A fate so much worse than death."
"Now if you'll excuse us," the queen walked past the pair with Anders in tow.
Sebastian held his tongue and walked back toward the inn, but Fenris didn't notice...
Hawke had said when they had encountered Karl, Anders' friend, that she'd rather die than be made Tranquil. Fenris remembered Knight-Commander Meredith's assistant. The mage vendor in the Gallows. They all seemed... dead inside. He couldn't imagine Hawke like that...
Ending Notes: I've rewritten the ending about four times. Still not sure if I'm happy with this chapter or not, but what is done is done! Hope you enjoyed =) Also, I apologize for the -oooo-s I had to use to separate Fenris' thoughts. FF has quite possibly the shittiest editor on the face of the planet.