Chapter warning:
Fighting/Action
Cursing
Blood/Gore
"When can I fight?" Hawke crossed her arms and stared down at Varric, the fight club's owner.
"Tonight. You'll fight both The Queen and The Knight than we'll schedule with Broody and set up a date with him for next week." Varric looked down at his book and nodded.
"Broody..?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.
"My own nickname for the Tattoo'd Stick," Varric smiled and pushed himself out of his chair, "Tattoo'd Stick doesn't sound like him."
"And...Broody does?" Hawke tilted her head, crossing her arms.
"Well, he's Broody, has glowing tattoo's – seems like a good fit." Varric shrugged and walked over to his bar, pouring himself some ale.
"Glowing...tattoo's?" Hawke stared at Varric, her mouth open.
"Heh," Varric chuckled, nodding, "Yes, his tattoo's glow when he draws his power from them. He's killed a few men in fights. I'd watch out when his fists start glowing."
"He's allowed to kill?" Hawke stared in shock.
"I rather he not but some fighters just don't know when to quit," Varric sighed, moving back to his chair with his ale in hand.
"Where's the fight taking place?" Hawke pushed out all thoughts of this Broody Tattoo'd Stick out of her mind and focused on tonight.
Varric picked up a scroll lying next to his chair and threw it at Hawke, "Everything you need to know is in there."
"Do I need a name?" Hawke asked, pulling at the string that kept the scroll closed.
"Not really," Varric shrugged and drank more of his ale, "Usually the contender picks a name after their first official win. If you beat Queen and Knight tonight, you get to pick one. For now, you're nameless."
"Nameless," Hawke nodded, "Perfect." Hawke opened the scroll and skimmed through the paragraphs, "Weapons?"
"How did you expect to fight?" Varric laughed, drinking, "With your fists?"
"Sorta." Hawke mumbled, looking back down at the scroll, "I'll be at the foundry tonight. Does it matter what weapon I choose?"
"As long as it can cause damage, we're good." Varric nodded and smiled to her before she left the room. Hawke took a deep breath as she stepped back into Lowtown. Where the hell am I going to get weapons?
As she was about to step forward she felt something nuzzle against her leg and start purring. She looked down to see that Anders cat, Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, had followed her. She looked around, checking to see if Anders by any chance had followed her as well. She looked back down at the cat as she felt it lay on her foot.
Hawke glared down at the cat and sighed, "Why are you following me?" The cat meowed at her before nipping at the lace on her boot. Hawke sighed and picked up the cat. The cat jumped onto her shoulder and curled around her neck. Hawke smiled, "I see you've mastered being a fierce feline." The cat meowed again before resting his head in it's paws as Hawke started walking deeper into darktown.
"You know anyone who can get me a weapon?" Hawke asked Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, earning a purring response.
"I can't tell if that's a yes or a no." She rolled her eyes before staring at the cat from the corner of her eye. Ser-Pounce-A-Lot huffed and jumped off of her shoulder. He stuck up his tail before looking over his shoulder at Hawke. Hawke tilted her head and raised as eyebrow as she followed the cat towards the Lowtown entrance.
Hawke let Ser-Pounce lead her into the Lowtown Market. It was dusk and the vendors were cleaning up their merchandise, putting them away for the night. Ser-Pounce jumped onto a table full of weapons and stared up at Hawke, his head tilted. The merchant for this table had slipped away, probably setting another pack to put his weapons in...or chasing down thieves to stole from him.
"I am not stealing," Hawke crossed her arms and glared down at the cat. The cat stared up at Hawke, one of his paws pushing against a sheathed great sword.
"Don't." Hawke hissed, looking around. Ser-Pounce continued to push on the sword until it were at the edge of the table.
"Ser-Pounce-" Hawke quickly caught the sword in her hands before it hit the ground. Hawke looked around, seeing no one near by any longer. Ser-Pounce jumped off the table, as Hawke started walking to the foundry district. Ser-Pounce followed close behind her, looking up at her as she unsheathed the sword.
"Wow." Hawke breathed out, "This is amazing." Hawke walked down the stairs into the Foundry district, placing the sword back in it's sheath. She clipped the sheath's belt around her chest and made sure she could pull the sword out.
"Fuck!" Hawke hissed, her arm not long enough to pull it out, "How the hell do people use these things?"
"Not like that."
Hawke turned around quickly, letting go of the sword to put her hands up, ready to fight. A male elf stood behind her in the shadows, leaning his shoulder onto the wall. His facial features were covered by a hood but Hawke could hear armor clanking under the robe when he moved towards her.
"I'm not here to fight." The man chuckled as he moved towards her, "Well, I'm not here to fight you. I'm simply here to watch tonight."
Hawke took a step back as he neared her. "Please," He held his hands up, "Do not be frightened."
"What should I be than? Grateful?" Hawke narrowed her eyes. Ser-Pounce-A-Lot had disappeared. Probably back to Anders, Hawke thought.
"That's a start," The man tilted his head down as he entered into the light. He pointed towards the swords hilt, "I can help you." Hawke slowly stood up straight as the man walked over to her.
"Take it off." He mumbled, slipping his arm into his robe. Hawke unhooked the belt and pulled off the sword, handing it to the man. He pulled the sword out of his sheath and stepped behind Hawke, attaching something to the sword that she couldn't see. She heard a snap before she felt the sword pressed onto her back, it clipping onto the back of her coat.
The man stepped back in front of her and nodded, "Try it." Hawke stared at the man as she unclipping the sword from her back and swung it forward.
"I guess I am grateful...Thank you." Hawke smiled and clipped the sword onto her back.
"Good luck tonight," The man nodded before heading towards the door to the foundry. Hawke watched him disappear before pulling out the scroll Varric gave her and reading the time.
"I need to get ready."
The Queen stepped into the ring, Hawke on the other side.
"The Queen of the Eastern Seas versus Nameless–!"
"Wait," The Queen smiled and held her hand up at Varric, walking towards Hawke, "I have my own tradition, if you very well remember." Varric grumbled some things and turned his back away, waiting for Isabela to finish.
Isabela held out her hand to Hawke, "I'm Isabela."
Hawke raised an eyebrow and looked down at Isabela's hand before shaking it, "...Hawke."
"Good to meet you." Isabela laughed, "Glad to see another woman contending. May the best win, yes?"
"Yeah." Hawke nodded to her before Isabela walked backward, in clipping her daggers from her back.
"Whenever you're ready, sweetie." Isabela calling to Varric, rolling the daggers in her hands before getting into a comfortable position. Hawke nodded and unclipped the sword from her back and moved it in front of her.
"Begin!"
Isabela was first to attack, light on her feet and able to cut and nip Hawke a couple times before Hawke could read her moves. Hawke pushed Isabela's daggers away with her armored arm and swung her sword toward Isabela. Isabela quickly twirled around the sword, her daggers dropping from her hands as the sword cut her outer arm.
"Shit!" Isabela cursed, holding onto her arm, "That fucking hurt."
Hawke opening her mouth, ready to apologize, before she saw Isabela reach for a hidden dagger in her belt. Hawke quickly dropped her weapon, picking up on of Isabela's discarded daggers and tackled Isabela to the ground, slamming her hand onto the ground until she let go to the dagger. Hawke held the dagger up to Isabela's throat until she admitted defeat. The crowd cheered, some boo'd as they lost money. Hawke helped Isabela up, seeing another wound her on side that she didn't notice before.
"Do you need help with that?" Hawke asked, tilting her head to look at the wound.
Isabela laughed than hissed, clutching onto her side, "No...I'll be fine. We have a healer in the back room."
"It was a good fight." Hawke bowed to Isabela.
"That it was," Isabela smiled, "Good luck, Hawke." Isabela hissed in pain and held onto her side as she forced herself to bowed at Hawke.
The night hadn't even really began and Hawke was already a wreck. Isabela was nothing compared to Aveline. She was a tank. She saw Aveline walk into the clearing from the other side. Hawke stood in a large bunker, the ceiling pealed off so everyone could watch the fight above them. Varric stood above them, announcing the fight was going to begin in a couple of moments. Hawke could feel herself trembling.
Why am I doing this again?
"–One hundred sovereigns to Nameless if she succeeds in defeating Ser Aveline!" Cheering erupted from the crowd above.
Hawke nodded, That's right. Money.
"Let the fight begin!"
Hawke stared at Aveline as she pulled out her sword and picked up her shield. Hawke watched her inch closer, watching every step, twitch, spasm she could find on Aveline. Hawke placed her hand on her hilt as Aveline started running towards her, a battlecry erupting from her lips – catching Hawke off guard. Hawke bent forward, twisting under Aveline's blade as she thrusted it towards her. Aveline placed her shield in front of her before slamming into the wall. Hawke looked up at Aveline as she still knelt on the ground, placing a hand on the hilt of her sword. Aveline quickly turned back around and swung her sword at Hawke. Hawke stands and avoids the attack, unclipping her sword and swinging it in front of her just in time to block a thrust from Aveline.
The two women clashed, the crowd's cheers could be heard over Hawke's heart beat in her ears. Hawke ducked and slashed, Aveline twisting around her blade and bashed Hawke in the face with her shield. Hawke grunted as she fell on the ground. She looked up at Aveline, smirking down at her. Aveline had kicked Hawke's sword behind herself.
"Give up?"
Hawke growled and lunged forward, pushing Aveline to the ground with her. Hawke summersaulted towards her sword, picking it up just before Aveline stood back up.
"Nope." Hawke stood up and smirked, getting back in her stance. The crowd cheered as Hawke fought back. Soon the weapons were completely discarded and only fists were being thrown. Hawke could feel blood slowly fall from the cut above her eyebrow, some falling into her vision when she jerked away from Aveline's punches. Hawke had never been in a fight this long or in a fight that involved her winning. She could see Aveline had started to wear down, her punches less forceful and painful. Soon her stepped began slowing down, making an opportunity for Hawke to swing her leg under Aveline's.
Aveline gasped and groaned as her back hit the ground. Aveline curled onto her side and waved her hand up, "I-I'm...done." Hawke panted and took a couple steps back before falling against the wall. She panted and moved her legs against her chest as the crowd cheered. Hawke let her head fall back against the wall, the dried blood on the side of her face cracking as she moved around. Everything hurt. Hawke didn't feel it before but now. She didn't want to move, didn't want to breath. Her eyesight refusing to focus on anything, making her hand ache even more. Hawke heard the door to the bunker open, someone running towards her. She could hear someone calling her name, her vision was to blurry to see who knelt in front of her.
"Help!"
Hawke grabbed onto the person's arm, "An...Anders...clin...ic...darktown...near lowtown...entra...nce.."
Hawke's vision completely faded, her falling unconscious, as two other people ran into the ring.