Year 3

The Free Marches

On a Tuesday

It had been grating at her all day. The snipping banter staying about ten feet behind her at all times, a pair of irritated voices back and forth bickering about the same old subject all day long. Hawke felt a throbbing behind her right eye and she longed for a dark, and most importantly, silent room to curl up in. This wasn't the hangover kind of headache, this was a pain bestowed on her from listening to these two all day. All week, more like. For that long, she was able to ignore it, but now she was at her breaking point where she couldn't block it out anymore. It ceased to be background noise equivalent to the wind blowing or the distant sound of waves crashing against cliffs.

"If you two are going to fight, do it where I'm out of earshot," she had said about six days ago, knowing she was in for a long week. At that point she had been debating the entire time if it was even worth it to have both Anders and Fenris with her, and at that point she was short on other friends to travel with her for such a lengthly period. Fenris had no real responsibilities, and he was always up for doing anything. Aveline was apologetic, wishing she could get away with Hawke for a week's adventure, but there was no way she could leave the guard without a captain for that long. Hawke agreed. Then there was Merrill, who Hawke could really tell didn't want to go anywhere with Fenris, but made up some wild excuse on the spot as to why she couldn't. Hawke just let her be. What was surprising was Varric, whom had never let her down before, saying he was tied up in business for the next while. Whatever that meant. Isabela was in the bar, rolling her eyes at him and offering her help if Varric was, "too chicken shit," to go along. She didn't mind being around the handsome, broody elf for so long anyway.

So it came as a massive surprise when Anders was able to lend a hand. He had noticed a lull in all activity at his clinic, believing all his years working had finally improved the overall health of the residents in Darktown. He could afford to leave for even a week's time to go spelunking in caves. Besides, he really did owe her. Hawke couldn't say no to such a generous offer, even though she had hoped he would refuse. Anders insisted, even knowing Fenris was among them, which should have tipped her off from the start that he intended to spend his time arguing, but the four were soon off outside Kirkwall.

And now they were finally heading home, and the venture was barely worth it. It was certainly worth the time spent, but no amount of heavy coin weighing down their belts was worth the racket. Night had fallen, and though Hawke was hoping they'd be home by the evening, the hills leading toward the city of Kirkwall seemed more treacherous than she remembered. They were forced to set up shelter on the Wounded Coast, Hawke and Isabela spending their time finding wood to burn for a fire. After a brief supper of rabbit, the group sat around the fire in complete silence. Isabela and Hawke were splitting the last of the whiskey they had brought along with no intention of sharing with their tormenters. Hawke had barely said a word the entire day, but her face was weary, which she hoped signalled she didn't want to hear any more bickering for the rest of the night.

Anders was watching her more closely than Fenris. Hawke slugged the whiskey back quickly, blinking watery eyes as it burned her throat. She just wanted to think back to her home, her bed, the absence of petty squabbling from the two men she was currently reluctant to call her friends. But as she stared into the flames, her mind began to wander towards what they had been saying the past few days. She did have to admit, if she were to take a side in the argument, she was behind Anders, although she would never say it. She wasn't about to defend some of Fenris's usual comments about mages and how they were all apparently too weak to deserve basic freedoms. That she could disagree with, but if he wanted to think that way, she didn't know his life experiences. But as the days went on, each snippy comment got harsher and harsher, and they were starting to feel personal.

It wasn't like Anders wasn't pissing her off either. At least she was willing to accept that the situation in Tevinter seemed deplorable as Fenris described it, but Anders wanted to brush it off as, "one bad experience". When she heard that during their trek through the woods near Sundermount, she actually shot a glare back at him. That was the last time she acknowledged either of them. Since then the argument was nothing but, "mages are shit," versus, "mages are not shit".

Isabela was half asleep on Hawke's shoulder, passing out from the alcohol and she was waiting for the snores. Hawke just enjoyed the quiet, the soothing sound of the roaring and crackling fire. The two men had to be enjoying it over their fighting as well, but soon she would be corrected.

"We should be in Kirkwall by tomorrow afternoon, shouldn't we?" Anders asked and Hawke looked up, grateful for the benign question.

"Yes," she answered flatly.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, until he cracked an awkward smile, clearly trying to get a conversation out of her. "Hopefully Darktown hasn't fallen apart this week."

Fenris just gave him a sharp laugh. Oh, Maker, here we go. "Wouldn't be surprised to see it improved, no apostates running around."

Hawke just closed her eyes when Anders went to retort. "I heal people, Fenris. Save their lives, treat the sick-"

"How long until you slip up with that demon of yours and kill someone you intended to help?"

"And why would I do that? Oh, mages can't control themselves, you've been saying it all bloody week, you're still here in the company of two of us."

Don't fucking get me involved, Hawke seethed in her head, resting her head against Isabela's to appear asleep. She just hoped their collective noise would somehow knock her into a coma.

"I trust Hawke. You, not so much."

"Why Hawke, and only Hawke, when not a single mage can resist temptation from demons?"

"She's not possessed, for one."

"Neither are most mages!"

Hawke's eyes opened, staring at both of them, seeing they had now stood up, both of them trying their best to appear physically bigger than they actually were, voices raising. If she weren't so annoyed, she would find the display hilarious, seeing two men chesting out at each other over an argument so stupid. She nudged Isabela awake, she couldn't miss this. They kept arguing, and Hawke felt the other woman just slightly shake with laughter. At least she could still find humour in their situation, but Hawke wasn't having any of it.

"Hey," she said, cutting through their argument and allowing silence to fall around them. "If you two could finish up, some of us would like to sleep." She made no effort to stand up, looking back at the fire, and it was like they had ignored her. That sparked something inside her.

"So, really what you're saying is that Hawke should be locked up in that Circle."

"Free mages is just asking for the return of the old Imperium."

"So, yes, then."

Were they trying to get her involved? To get her riled up and step in to settle their argument once and for all? First, they ignored her asking them to stop, now they were getting her involved. And, to add the cherry on top, Fenris was essentially saying she should have been in the Circle. Isabela had been quiet the whole time, probably drunker than she realized, but Hawke had had enough. If Anders was trying to get people on his side, Fenris was not the person to ask. Finally she stood up, grabbing their attention.

"Will you two just shut up," she began, her voice full of all the built up stress over the past week. "Anders, he's never going to agree with you, Fenris, most mages aren't horrible, and am I not a shining example that?" It seemed to get through to them, but she had been so wrong about that so many times before. She looked between them, hoping for their grumbled agreements, but they never came.

"You do know she's helping me, right?" Anders said, his attention directed at Fenris once again. "You should know Hawke's best judgement is with the free mages."

Hawke rolled her eyes. She was hoping to be able to tell Fenris that fact herself some time, and she supposed she should feel angry that Anders had spilled the secret, but mostly she just felt more exasperated that she was now getting involved. She could tell by the look on Fenris's face that he wasn't going to let it go.

"Is that right? You'd let apostates go, endangering the masses with god knows what blood magic?" he snarled, and it surprised her, but not as much as the rage that was bubbling inside her.

"What blood magic?!" Anders snapped at him. "I've not seen one single blood mage pass through Darktown in all my time being here, and you're flinging wild accusations around! That is a serious accusation to make."

"And just how can you tell?"

"I don't care!" Hawke all but screamed at the two of them. "I don't give a flying nug shit about mages and abominations so long as I have you two telling me all about them until I'm buried in my fucking grave!"

They were finished with looking at her confusedly. Now she was involved in the argument. "And that will be much sooner if you go on carrying on with this abomination the way you do," Fenris growled.

She shifted her weight, sticking one hip out and tilting her head to the side all in a jerking motion. "Could you at least try to be open-minded to what I do and trust my judgement, just a little but, like this much?" She held her finger and thumb out, the two nearly touching. "This isn't Tevinter, this hasn't been Tevinter for almost a thousand years."

Something lit up in Anders' eyes, but Hawke caught it before she would ever let him think she was picking sides. "And would you stop saying horrible things to him as fucking if mage Circles and slavery in Tevinter are the same bloody thing?"

"Horrible things?" Anders challenged and Hawke was already walking towards him, eyes screaming murder as she got right in his face.

"I will slap you," she snarled. "I will fucking slap you if you dare say anything about slaves like you know anything about slavery." Her eyes were narrowed, and Anders looked genuinely surprised for a second, before she felt that familiar twinge of Justice's presence. She stepped back as his eyelids flashed ice blue, but he balked, squeezing them shut before he lost control.

Fenris hadn't moved, but he was still glaring at Hawke, and she was ready for him to say something. He just scoffed, and Hawke nearly felt her head explode.

"Alright, can we stop!" Isabela stepped forward, pulling Hawke back by the arm away from Anders. "This fighting is doing nothing for us!"

It was as if Isabela hadn't even been there, because right away, Anders, still just Anders, had shot back at Hawke. What happened next was an unintelligible flurry of words between all four of them. In the chaos of their voices, one constant existed; with each new insult, accusation, or retort, each voice grew louder than the last, amounting to a screaming match between the four. Hand gestures became more violent, fingers were pointed, the most blasphemous of expletives were shouted. Hawke was a boiling pit of rage, spitting while she screeched, hands flaring up with involuntary magical energy. Soon enough, no verdict was reached, and their volume gradually dropped only due to the fact that they had all screamed themselves hoarse.

"Fucking fight me, then!" Hawke wheezed as loud as she now could, and the voices stopped.

"Fight you?" Fenris asked, but she wasn't just addressing him.

"Hawke, are you-?" Anders began, but he was cut off.

"Yeah, let's go bitches, me and you. Gloves are off." She glared directly at Anders. "No magic, no… swords."

There was a pause, everyone lost for words, before Hawke clumsily charged forward, slamming into Anders' chest, taking him down to the sandy ground below him. The force of which she basically fell into him was going to leave a bruise on her arm later, but she was overtop of him, fists clenched, booze on her breath, her wrists restrained by his hands. Anders look utterly shocked as he gripped her wrists, fighting desperately to keep her fists from his face. Suddenly she was lifted up by two pairs of arms, Anders let go of her and she was on her feet again, Isabela and Fenris holding her back.

"Fasta vass, you drunken-"

"Call me a drunk, would you?!" Hawke snapped at Fenris while fighting against his and Isabela's hold but they were far too strong. "Please, we all know you spend your time in that shitty mansion getting fucked up on that fancy Tevinter wine! There's a whole cellar of it, I know it!" She was jerking her elbow back, trying to land a hit on Fenris, but he held her too firmly.

He was beyond a response now, baffled by her mad display, but Hawke wasn't finished. He let go of her as she turned towards Anders, her eyes blazing. "And you. Don't even get me started-"

"Hawke, I-!" he began, holding up his hands, his defences on high.

"Say one more thing, say one more thing!" she challenged.

"And I'm sure he won't," Isabela said firmly, heaving her friend away from the others. Hawke finally shook her off before turning away with whatever was left of her pride, walking towards her tent without another word.

—

Isabela turned toward the others once Hawke had retreated back to her tent. "Well that seemed personal," she mumbled, giving a sideways glance to the two men. "But you see what you do to her?"

Fenris had stood up, brushing himself off, still clearly in shock over what had just happened. He and Anders exchanged glances before looking away like children being scolded.

"That would have been me, and that would have been less pretty," she said, her voice becoming serious for only a second. Right after, directed at Fenris, her gaze became sultry again. "And it wouldn't have been fighting I wanted pinning you down. But seriously, you two need to stop provoking each other." She turned away, heading towards where she and Hawke had set up their individual tents. "Had you been on my ship, would've capsized you two long ago."

Isabela bent down only to take the empty bottle of whiskey from beside the fire and found her tent. She could already hear the shitfaced Hawke in her own tent snoring softly. She smiled, seeing Fenris and Anders going their separate ways to their own tents.

The next day, there wasn't a single word uttered between any of them before returning to Kirkwall.