"Don't you want to tell us something, Hawke?" Varric said while balancing his beloved Bianca in his calloused hands and shooting an inquisitive glare at their silent leader.
"I would appreciate some explanation, too, Hawke." Fenris scratched cautiously his nose with the tip of his sharp glove, and although he intended to look serious, he managed to look somehow funny, crinkling his nose while scratching it.
"What explanation? We can't waste our time with pointless talk right now. Maker knows how many nobles Aveline is trying to save with her own skin right now. And we still have no clue where Isabela is, so…" Samael tried to wriggle out of their questions as he quickened his pace.
"Well, something must be going on. Every Qunari we've encountered glanced at you and left us alone." Ichabod halted and leaned on his sword borrowed from Hawke's vast collection of weapons. He realized a second later he should have played his part instead of asking questions. He wanted to come to the Viscount's Keep just to keep an eye on his son and make sure he wouldn't do something stupid; nothing else. "I mean," Ichabod coughed and squinted at Varric who begged him with his eyes to stop talking. "Every horn-head we've seen just feeeeeee, and off he ran like we don't exist." Bane gestured with his hand how quickly the Qunari were running out of their way once they'd spotted Hawke.
"Well, I might have or might have not orchestrated some deal with the Arishok to leave me and several other people out of this. That's all you need to know. As you can see, the deal isn't working properly since the Guards Captain through her own stupidity and ridiculous wish to save everybody exchanged herself for her men, so they could help people on the streets during the Qunari invasion. And Ichabod's burning mansion isn't a great comfort either, so —" Hawke added and he rather gulped the next part since he had already said too much.
"But how? Why? Don't try to smear honey around my beardless mouth, Hawke. Are you trying to say you're now a Qunari-lover or something?" Varric wanted to know truth.
"And here's the Chantry, gentlemen. Shall we?" Hawke scowled at the meddlesome dwarf and started climbing up the stairs leading to the Maker's house.
"Why are we even stopping here is beyond me." Fenris snorted and observed several wounded Templars lying along the Chantry wall.
"I don't like Sebastian either, but he did help us countless times and I've decided to check on anyone who was supposed to be under my protection, Fenris." Hawke leaned closer to his elf, whispering those words because they were meant just for his ears. "Bah, so many Templars. Good that Merrill isn't… here." Samael muttered under his nose and cursed himself immediately since he had forbidden himself even thinking about her.
"Hawke! I am relieved to see you standing and unharmed. What brings you here?" Vael pushed his way through the Templars and scurrying Chantry Sisters to Hawke and his companions. Samael observed the prince carefully, but his armor was spotless and he didn't seem to fight the Qunari, which was confirmed with his next sentence. "Elthina banned me from fighting the invaders, although I would love to go out and empty my quiver into those heathens." Sebastian's smooth aristocratic face twisted into an outraged mask.
"Ah, well, glad to see you're well-protected in the Chantry." Samael channeled a bit sardonic bow towards the Starkhaven prince. "Aveline and Bela are currently missing and we're looking for them, so we have to go now." Hawke sighed, shook his head and headed for the door.
"Serah Hawke." A sly voice stopped the assassin from leaving the Chantry. "Your presence here astonishes me indeed, but I did not expect you to sit on your hands either, while your Kossith friends are attacking the city." Mother Petrice, her arms folded on chest, came out of a dark alcove filled with moaning injured people. Her expression could have been easily described as a triumphant.
"You forgot to add they're finally attacking the city, Petrice." Hawke frowned at her, while slowly approaching her. "Because nobody put more efforts to stir this war than you did." Samael hissed right into her face. "I didn't involve myself much into this secret campaign you've been leading, but it doesn't mean I haven't been watching you and your zealots all the time."
"Back off, you highwayman." Petrice made a hesitant step back. "Don't you forget where you are and who I am!" She straightened up and glanced around to make sure she was still surrounded by many Templars, several Guards, and Sisters of the Chantry. "You can't touch me, Serah Hawke. The Maker's will is clear now and Kirkwallers need to deal with those filthy Qunari stains on our beautiful pious city." Petrice leaned so close to the assassin now, so nobody would hear her gloating over her fulfilled plans. When she pulled away, Hawke was panting, infuriated, and clenching his fists to prevent himself from striking down this scheming woman who was supposed to help people and pray in her precious silent Chantry. Petrice sneered broadly when she noticed Hawke had no reply for her bragging. "And now scram, mercenary." Petrice purred and dusted her robes. "Go kill something grey and horn-headed or do us both a favor and die while trying." Petrice laughed and strolled away with a condescending smirk on her face.
"Hawke…?" Varric patted cautiously Samael's shaking shoulder. Obviously the dwarf had difficulties fathoming why the assassin didn't argue with the Mother or at least threaten her a little, although those threats would have been just empty words right now – nothing more.
"We have to go." Samael crushed these words between his clenched teeth, his fiery eyes still jabbed into Petrice's back. She might have considered her goal as fulfilled, but for Hawke this wasn't over by a long shot.
oOo
Hawke's group encountered only Carta thugs who were looting abandoned Hightown mansions and he had to admit, killing them was a great way to let out some steam. The disquiet inside of the assassin was growing with every step closer to the Keep and his companions were unusually quiet as well. What was waiting for them in the Keep? Where was the Viscount? What happened to Aveline? In whose damned bed had Isabela been hiding for the last several days?
"Hawke…" Varric hissed and stopped others with his raised palm. They all peered around the corner at whatever caught the dwarf's attention. Scattered around the whole Hightown square, there were Qunari corpses intertwined in deadly embrace with the Templars, Guardsmen and even a few Circle mages. Everybody dead and apparently after a vicious fight. A lone huge silhouette, enveloped in smothering smoke, coming from the burning mansion, stood in the middle of this mess, motionless, calm and clearly lost in thoughts.
"A Saarebas," Hawke breathed out while glancing around, obviously looking for his leash master. "His Arvaarad is dead, I suppose." Samael sauntered towards the giant Qunari, but his hand was clasped firmly around the katana hilt, ready to cut him down if necessary. "Uhm, Saarebas? Do you understand me?" Hawke's hand reached slowly for a leash and the Saarebas turned his masked face to him.
"C'mon, Hawke, you can't be serious. Let me shoot that overgrown thing!" Varric lost his patience, stroking Bianca impatiently.
"He won't attack us now when he lost his leash master. I'll take him to the Keep." Samael didn't even dare looking at his companions and their reaction at his charitable intent. Ichabod shook his head, but kept his thoughts about this mad idea for himself, Fenris rolled his emerald eyes and exchanged a disapproving gaze with the dwarf.
"I think we've got a survivor!" Ichabod remarked after a moment of silent examining the corpses. He rolled gently a man in long dark robes on his back, his hand fumbling for a healing potion in a small holdall, which was on his belt.
"Hum, an elf." Hawke strolled close enough to take a look at the stranger. "I haven't seen him before." The assassin poked the slender body with his boot, making the lyrium warrior giggle since the survivor was obviously a mage.
"No need to fret, elf." Hawke chuckled when the mage opened his eyes finally, blinking and groping his sore head before he started realizing he was still alive and surrounded with unfamiliar faces.
"Many thanks, friends. I am First Enchanter Orsino." The mage glanced around, his eyes widening with every dead body he had spotted. "What— How—" Orsino stammered when he saw who was standing behind Hawke – a huge Saarebas, who seemed totally oblivious to what was happening around him. "You have… a Qunari with you." Orsino's surprised eyes found Hawke, like he expected him to negate this statement.
"No need to be afraid of him either, Orsino. I suggest you go to the Chantry now and get a healer." Hawke reached an arm towards the still lying elf, who grasped it in gratitude and let himself to be pulled up on his feeble feet.
"First Enchanter Orsino, you survived." An unfamiliar arrogant voice came from around a column. "What a relief," the same voice snorted and a tall woman emerged from the smoke coming from the still burning house. Her armor was blood-stained and she was older than Samael would prefer, yet an odd strength and spirit was emanating from her, however tired she looked now. But the first thing the assassin had noticed were her eyes; bright blue clefts shooting ice at anybody who dared looking into them.
"Your joy over my survival overwhelms me, Knight-Commander Meredith." Suddenly Orsino's voice turned from velvety to somewhat pungent. But Hawke was much more interested in Meredith since this was the woman who had arranged many attempts to hunt down Merrill and only Samael's powerful friends and his own growing influence in this city made her attempts futile.
"Knight-Commander," Hawke nodded at her coldly, making sure she caught his own "overwhelming joy" about this unexpected encounter.
"I know you." Meredith's eyes narrowed when her freezing gaze landed on the unconcerned assassin. "I read the name Hawke in many of my reports. Can't say I would appreciate your bewildering contribution to this city, Fereldan mercenary." The Knight-Commander wanted to continue, but her eyes then spotted the poorly hidden Saarebas. Her response was clear here, since her hand ripped a sword from its sheathe.
"That Qunari is mine, Meredith." Hawke made a step forward, so he stood in Meredith's way now. Ah, he had heard well indeed his friends hissing at him to let Meredith have the head of this Qunari mage, but he simply didn't care.
"Mrmhhhhuuum." The Saarebas grumbled and sauntered by Hawke's side.
"Nice speech, my pet." The assassin sneered and poked his elbow into the giant by his side. "Everything he said is true. He's harmless and I am his Master, Knight-Commander." Hawke turned back to Meredith and took this opportunity to figure out just how much sense of humor and patience was under her impressive armor. Judging by her set jaw, freezing gaze and her hand twitching to resist her urge to cut the Saarebas' head off; not much. "I believe we all have some agenda here, so if you excuse me now—" Samael fell silent and gave a subtle bow to Meredith before he glanced at Orsino. "I'm glad we could help, First Enchanter. Charming to finally meet you, Knight-Commander." Hawke couldn't help himself and sneered at her while he pushed the Qunari to start walking away.
"So you won't help us defeat these heathens, Hawke." Meredith started orbiting around the assassin. "It seems you even protect them," she continued, hurling a scornful glare at the Saarebas. "Very well then. Your non-existent assistance regarding defending this city won't be forgotten. A day will come and you will crawl to me, asking for my help, mercenary. That day I will laugh into your face." Samael once more felt the tiny icicles of Meredith's voice, piercing him through. His only response was turning his back at her and heading for the Keep.
"What a bitch…" Varric pronounced out loud what they all were thinking at this very moment.
"At least she's got a nice ass." Ichabod cackled, poking the Saarebas' brawny arm with his finger. He shut up though, when Hawke and the others granted him a disgusted glare.
oOo
"Teth a! Bas!" A Qunari, patrolling on the Keep courtyard, shouted at his brethren when he spotted Hawke and his men walking without hesitation towards the Keep entrance.
"I'm Hawke. You should know better than throwing that spear at me." Samael scoffed while his hand clasped the katana hilt loosely to underline his words.
"The basalit-an. Yes. Yes, you are allowed to pass." The Qunari lowered the spear and gestured towards the Keep; his fish eyes observed Hawke and his companions with indifference.
"Before you start rambling about your precious Qun, Ashaad, here you are." Hawke handed the leash to the red-painted giant, pushing the Saarebas gently forward. "His Arvaarad's dead. Do as you will with him."
"I thank you for this courtesy, Hawke." A quiet husky voice came out of the Qunari's mouth. "It seems only you understand a little the way of the Qun in this pustule of a city. But what are you doing here? You were supposed to stay out of this." Ashaad peered askance at Hawke's companions – an unrelenting elf with strange markings on his skin, a peevish dwarf with huge crossbow and an inconspicuous nervous human who had averted his gaze once he realized he was under the scrutiny.
"You're right. I shouldn't be here." Samael shook his head. "But something has gone wrong. You have one of my own and I came for her." Hawke awaited in suspense the Qunari's reaction.
"I suspect you'll find more than one companion of yours inside, Hawke. But I have to insist you leave one of your men here as a guarantee you won't do anything… unexpected." Ashaad waited patiently for Hawke's reply, but the assassin remained silent; frowning while contemplating this disturbing condition. "Leave your Bas Saarebas here, and you'll be free to go inside." Ashaad suggested when the assassin gave him no reply still.
"Which Bas Saarebas?" Hawke arched an eyebrow. "I have no mage with me. You must be mistaken." He glanced around him like he half-expected Merrill would peer at him from around a corner. Ashaad's eyes were traveling between Bane and Hawke and he seemed genuinely confused when Samael denied one of his companions was a mage. "Ichabod?" Samael turned to him when he realized the Ashaad was looking straight at him.
"This is not the time, nor the place to discuss this." Ichabod Bane murmured towards his boots. "Go. Save your friends." Ichabod pushed the assassin to the heavy front door, not daring to look into his incredulous eyes.
"Templars are approaching." Samael warned the Qunari quietly, his eyes still following the fidgeting Bane though. "Do me a favor and take them down." Samael couldn't help himself and chuckled mirthlessly. "And don't you dare touch him." Hawke glanced at Bane kicking softly the wall with his boot, before he set his fiery eyes at Ashaad to underline his words.
oOo
As Hawke strolled cautiously through the silent Viscount's Keep, the Qunari were parting in front of him. Samael saw not all of them approved of the Arishok labeling Hawke as basalit-an, the untouchable. But as always, nobody dared defy the Arishok.
Hawke flung open the two-wing massive door leading forward, too afraid, too impatient about what awaited him behind it. In one quick glance the assassin learnt the situation here - kneeling nobles whining along the walls, several dead Guards, disciplined rows of silent Qunari, and the Arishok looming over the whole hall.
"Well, at least we found the Viscount." Varric muttered and nodded at the head lying right in front of them. "Well, at least a piece of him. Can't say he had a nice death, eh?" he added in uneasily when he noticed the horrified expression on the Dumar's face.
"Hawke." The Arishok addressed the newcomer casually. "I've been expecting you," he continued and glanced on his right. Samael mirrored him and to his relief, he spotted there Aveline with her hands tied behind her back. He raised his eyebrows though, when he recognized the unconscious Isabela lying right next to her. A thick rope tied around her torso and arms, a gag stuffed in her mouth.
"We need to talk." Samael stepped forward and kicked the Viscount's black crown out of his way. He barely kept his fury about his abused friends behind his clenched teeth. The Qunari leader nodded and walked away. Hawke marched right after him; behind the backs of the silent Qunari who closed the gap Samael had walked through. Varric glanced at the lyrium warrior by his side and yes, he was anxious just like the dwarf and Aveline.
"What the hell, Arishok?" Hawke couldn't hold himself back anymore. "This wasn't our deal, damn it? Why is Isabela bound like this? How could you allow the Guards Captain to sacrifice herself?"
"Hold, basalit-an." The Arishok raised his palm to silence the resentful human. "The red-headed woman offered herself in exchange for her captured men and insisted. I have to admit, I found her… annoying. I allowed her to make a deal to get rid of her. Regarding the other woman, I should be the one demanding an explanation, Hawke." The Qunari's bottomless eyes cut right through the assassin.
"I don't understand." Hawke droned in reply, glancing back into the hall, but all he was able to see was the Qunari's backs and their weapons strapped on them.
"A thief, Hawke. The one who had stolen the Tome of Koslun years ago. Your companion, Hawke. How could you possibly explain this?" The Qunari raised his voice. Samael kept opening and closing his mouth in disbelief.
"This can't be…" Samael whispered to himself, raking his fingers through the black disheveled hair veil. "What… How… When?" he managed to ask only incoherent questions.
"The Tome of Koslun was lost for several years, hidden from us. When we finally managed to find it, we learnt, that the Tome was supposed to be handed over to a Tevinter spy. Today. Despite all our efforts, your companion managed to steal it again and disappear." The Arishok started pacing around the frozen Hawke. "What was our surprise then, when we found the thief tied like a present right on the Keep's doorstep, several hours after she got away with the book?" he laughed bitterly and it was a sound that chilled Hawke's bones.
"And the Tome…?" Samael whispered and closed his eyes when he tried to calm his whirling thoughts down. Lots of things made sense now.
"Lost." The Arishok halted in front of the devastated assassin.
"What happens now?" Hawke looked up at the Qunari leader, his face tired and that feeling that was about to devour him, was painfully familiar. Betrayal. "Would you punish me? She was my companion after all and I was too foolish, too blind to notice. Too… silly… to figure it out." Hawke shook his head in submission.
"Her part is clear, Hawke. Your admission is… welcomed." The Giant rubbed his chin.
"I need to talk to her. Just a few minutes." Hawke set his pleading eyes at the Qunari leader. "I swear I won't help her to escape or something. I just… I just need to know." Samael's voice was now barely audible.
"I believe you. Talk to her. But I warn you, Hawke. She is beyond the point of redemption in the eyes of the Qun." The Arishok scoffed and dismissed Hawke with a brief gesture. "Hawke?" the Qunari stopped him a second later.
"Yes?" The assassin didn't turn back.
"You shouldn't have come here tonight." The Arishok murmured and Hawke was indeed puzzled by this quiet disturbing statement. But Isabela's betrayal was burning his pride and all he wanted to hear now was her version, as he made roughly his way through the Qunari. The pirate queen seemed to had regained consciousness in the meantime. Her widened eyes watched Hawke approaching her and she gulped when he pulled out a dagger and severed the ropes binding her. She groaned when she stretched her bloodless limbs, then she pulled down a rope holding a gag on its place, spitting the gag right away.
Wordlessly, Samael grasped Bela's bruised arm and dragged her to the front room, both being watched by the whispering nobles. The pirate sauntered in the middle of room, pressing the fingers on her forehead, while Samael started pacing around her. Isabela thought she knew well, how to soothe the fuming assassin, how to make him look on the bright side, and she was indeed about to convince him to help her here. They had been lovers after all, and even after that when Hawke lost his head over the Dalish girl, they remained close friends.
Without any warning, Samael slapped the pirate queen with all his might. Isabela tumbled down, gulping a scream of intense pain since Hawke didn't hold himself back.
"Why?" Samael snatched her hair and pulled her up again. "Why, Isabela?" His fingers clutched her chin roughly, so she would look at him. "I did nothing but protect you all those years. Your Ladyship needed money? Hawke was here to help! Your Pirate Highness needed to get somebody who was being persistent off your back? Of course the silly Hawke took care of that, too. Your Royal Slut-ass needed a place to live after the Hanged Man burnt to ground? No need to have a fright since the stupid Hawke was here to pay for a room in the Blooming Rose!" Hawke punched a wall rather than the cowering woman.
"Hawke… I… I stole that book. I did. But it had nothing to do with you! I just—" Isabela tried to explain.
"Damn it, Isabela! You could have told me anytime what that relic of yours was! You could have prevented the Qunari from staying in Kirkwall! You could have saved all those lives lost over the fight between the Chantry and Qunari!"
"Oh, don't preach me, Hawke! From you it sounds ridiculous!" Bela lashed out at the assassin pacing around the room. "I was betrayed here, too! Do you know that? Do you even care?" she tried to point out the facts important to her.
"Go fuck yourself, Bela." Hawke waved his hand like he couldn't care less. He started cackling a second later and it indeed sounded like he just lost his mind. "You know, I always thought Varric would get bored by this city eventually. That the endless rows with the mages and Templars, thin Veil beneath the city and all that would drive him away. Anders' destiny is quite clear since he is bound to get killed during his hopeless mages' revolution. I expect Fenris to go hunting the mages in Tevinter when his demons come back and yes, Isabela, they always come back. Merrill… is gone. I was a fool to think she loved me. But you…" Hawke shook his head and started ranting again. "It never crossed my mind you would leave or break our relationship in any way. All that we both have been through, our similar personalities, I don't know. Hilarious assumption, right? And stupid as hell!" Hawke's frightening sneer faded as Isabela watched his outburst in silence.
"I stole the relic all those years ago, Hawke. It's true." She started explaining cautiously. "The Qunari's dreadnought stuck right behind my ass, a storm raging in front of me. I was shipwrecked. See? I didn't lie about everything." Isabela hoped this statement would make things better.
"What a relief, pirate." Hawke scowled and kept pacing; now in the other direction.
"Look. I just wanted to sell the book to whomever, who would give me the best offer, but… My plan has changed." Isabela's voice sounded different now. Hurt. Hawke focused on her again, musing about this twist. "It was… him, Hawke. This was always about him. He claimed he needed the book. We were supposed to steal it and we did. Then we were supposed to take your ship and sail away. Get out of here. Together."
"MY WHAT?" Hawke counted to ten to prevent himself from punching her again. She looked wrecked as hell anyway. "So you do admit you were about to double-cross me and even steal from me. Nice, Bela. Even from you." Samael started laughing, but he felt like the biggest fool in Free Marches. "Really, now I feel a bit disappointed that this plot you've put together didn't work. Who was that master-lover that won your black heart and then left you behind like an old shoe? I want to congratulate him."
"You're such a bastard, Hawke." Isabela hissed at him, when he kept chafing her sore spot. "You really don't know who he is?" she asked after a moment, her voice perversely curious. She had now nothing to lose after all.
"Enlighten me," Samael shrugged, thinking he should go back to the Arishok. Since Bela remained silent, the assassin decided to nag her again. "One-legged Larry? Blind Barry and his parrot? Stuttering Simon? Or maybe—"
"Fawn." Isabela interrupted Hawke's mocking.
"Come again?" Samael approached the pirate, wondering how much surprise and betrayal a person could bear for one day without going insane.
"Your precious friend Mahariel. The one, who was living at your estate, Hawke. The one you've been protecting without knowing it. The one, who made a plaything out of our proud and highly respected Samael Hawke." Bela's voice reflected satisfaction when she was able to hurt Hawke back now.
"Shut up." Hawke pressed his palms on the pulsing temples. His head felt like it was about to explode.
"And of course, you had no idea, what he really was and what was he doing literally behind your back. That he intended from the very beginning to use you and hide at your mansion. That he counted with the fact you would protect him from the Templars and take care of his needs. Which you did. In fact, you did so well, Fawn had postponed our departure for a whole month." Isabela continued mercilessly.
"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Hawke roared in anguish, but it was too late. Isabela placed a mirror in front of Samael's face to see how Fawn had been toying with him the whole time. How he pretended, well, everything. How he had been piling up lies around Hawke until he was soothed into an impression Mahariel was his friend.
"Did I mention it was probably him who dragged your beloved back to the Dalish, hm?" Isabela purred, observing her broken fingernails. "It had something to do with their funny elven pride or something." She shrugged like this didn't mean anything.
"Liar." Hawke uncovered his face, watching the pirate with tormented eyes. "LIAR!" he threw himself at her, beating her blind as they both collapsed down. He stopped himself though, and got up on his feet again, since he didn't want her to die here by his hand. "Let's go, Isabela." Samael reached down for her and that fast change in his voice and behavior was both bewildering and unsettling.
"What are you going to do to me?" The pirate couldn't hide that panic undertone in her cocksure voice.
"Me? To you? Nothing, my friend." Samael slowly opened the door, all heads in the hall swiveling towards them again. Only now Hawke realized they had probably heard his shouting. He didn't care.
"Well?" The Arishok slowly descended the staircase; his ominous weapons straddled across his mighty shoulders.
"Well?" Hawke pushed Isabela towards Aveline and strolled in front of the Qunari leader with his head hanging. "I wish I wouldn't have learnt the truth." He shook his head mildly. "What happens now?" he asked; his voice colorless.
"The Tome was supposed to be in my hands by now, Hawke. It was stolen instead. Again. I am denied Par Vollen without the Tome of Koslun. You know that. I don't have the thief who stole from us years ago, nor do I have the thief who has the Tome right now." The Arishok seemed calm, but his fingers were nervously playing on the hafts of his weapons.
"Just tell me, how to fix this." Hawke rubbed his temples.
"Do you have the Tome of Koslun?" The Qunari asked a simple question.
"No, I don't." Samael kept staring at his feet, feeling utterly exhausted.
"Do you have the thief who is responsible for stealing the Tome this time? The one who escaped with it?" the Arishok continued in his investigation.
"No." Hawke shook his head mildly.
"Are you willing to give me the thief who stole the Tome years ago?" The Arishok folded his arms on chest; a pure impatience in his voice now. Hawke took a long moment before he replied this time.
"No." Samael gave the pirate a long gaze. "No. You can't have her." He turned back to the Arishok and his voice sounded steady now.
"So how would you see this matter resolved then, Hawke?" the Qunari started pacing around the assassin.
"Well…" Hawke started fidgeting and it was just now when he realized the whole hall had been gaping at him, waiting for his each word in suspense. "You sail away and look for your Tome?" he tried to sound cheerfully.
"Impossible." The Arishok didn't move and Hawke's heart started to beat faster. Only one possibility seemed to be here, but the assassin was sure he would do anything to prevent it.
"Just save yourselves!" Hawke burst out when he couldn't bear the silence anymore. "Sail away, for Maker's dirty pants! Go looking for your precious Tome of Koslun! Or give me this task instead! I can leave today and I swear I will find the thief and I will hunt his sorry ass down! Please, just…" Hawke's voice trailed off when he ran out of ideas.
"You shouldn't have come here tonight, Hawke." The Arishok repeated his previous statement, but this time his voice sounded deaf, like he had something very specific in his mind, but couldn't force himself to say it out loud. Samael fell silent and took a thorough look at the Qunari. It was written all over his face what was about to happen now; now, when the Arishok had no Tome and thief either.
"Take her then." Hawke glanced behind his back, his voice hoarse and very quiet. Judging by Isabela's reaction, she expected a punishment from Hawke, but surely not handing her over to the Qunari. "I actually think she'll make a brilliant Qunari agent once you… break her." Hawke made sure he said those dreadful words right into Bela's frightened face. Because Hawke was now able to see a choice in front of him – a lying, stealing, filthy pirate against the most unexpected Qunari friend. Samael silenced his companions shouting in disbelief with his raised palm like he wouldn't hear anything concerning this decision.
"Hawke…?" Isabela managed to rasp in disbelief.
"Satisfied, Arishok?" Samael asked, but his voice sounded broken. He perfectly ignored Isabela who had started spluttering at him any curse she could think of, until she was silenced with a gag again. If Hawke thought this was over, he was sorely mistaken, but it took him long moment to realize the Arishok wasn't pleased even with the thief in his hands.
"You… can't be serious." Hawke stalked to the Arishok, his eyes stuck at those thick bloodless lips which were about to challenge him to a fight to the death.
"This is the demand of the Qun, Hawke. I am Qunari. I have nothing more to say." The Arishok turned his back at Hawke, but Samael wasn't done, oh no. His desperate suggestions were interrupted when the Qunari leader whirled around and almost came running back to him.
"I can't battle just anyone, Hawke. You're the basalit-an. They are not. Fight me and you might win and save your brethren. Submit and they all die and you with them. This is the way of the Qun." The Arishok seemed losing his patience. Samael glanced around desperately, all spooked faces watching him in suspense, his companions awestricken and no doubt wondering how this had even happened.
"Please, don't. Don't do this. There has to be a better way." Samael whispered, so only Arishok would hear this desperate plea.
"Is that your answer?" The Arishok asked coldly and Hawke realized he had lost this battle already. The Arishok was Qunari in the first place, then there was a huge pile of Qunari shit and far behind it there was maybe a little place for Hawke and their brief unusual relationship. It was ridiculous to think the Qunari would prefer Hawke over his unshakeable beliefs in Qun.
"We shall fight if that is what you want." Samael replied after a moment with no expression on his ashen face.
"Meravas! So shall it be!" The Qunari leader exclaimed, but Hawke caught that tormented undertone in his deep voice, however hidden it was. Samael gulped when he realized those huge weapons he had been admiring many times were about to slice him into pieces. Once again, Hawke's katana and daggers looked here ridiculously… insufficient.
Hawke glanced at Fenris who stood there along with Varric, both speechless and worried. Samael intended to give them a soothing sneer, but he failed big time. Aveline, who was liberated from her binds, was gnawing at her fingernails and she clearly intended to encourage Hawke with a self-assured nod, but it wasn't convincing. Samael thought he hadn't been so close to a certain death than right now, but the enormous axe wheezing through the air had woken him up from his bitter thoughts.
Samael saw himself from above dodging the lethal Qunari axe and it all felt like a dream. Why would he even want to avoid that shiny blade? Why should he? His world was crumbling around him anyway and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His loved ones were disappearing out of his life one by one. Merrill was gone. Isabela had been lying to him for years and Fawn's betrayal was rooted so deep, Hawke couldn't breathe when he recalled Fawn's beautiful pale face. His words about the two of them being similar. His gift Occela, who had disappeared just like the elf. The Qunari blade approached Samael's face again, but this time Hawke simply stared at it, waiting for its embrace. The katana fell out of the assassin's hand and rattled on a flagstone as the cold steel stroked almost lovingly Hawke's face, leaving a thin long wound across his forehead, eye and cheekbone.
Blinded by the warm blood oozing out of the injury, Hawke staggered a few steps backwards, caught completely off guard by the pulsing pain. The Arishok seemed astounded by this easy victory, since his hands lowered when he watched Hawke tottering towards the column to lean on it.
If Samael's friends expected him to perform his usual exquisite fight style, when he became practically a ghost; untouchable, striking from the most unexpected angles with imperceptible moves, they were petrified now by the assassin's obvious reluctance to fight the huge Qunari.
Varric couldn't bear the silence anymore during which the Arishok had started approaching the motionless assassin again – to deliver a lethal blow no doubt. "By the Paragons' decaying fetid asses, Hawke! What do you think you're doing? Get your lazy ass back to that over-sized Kossith and chop his head off! Like always! Don't you dare! Do you hear me? Don't you dare standing there and get yourself killed!" Yes. This time it was Varric's shouting which stirred something in Hawke; something he had no idea it was still within him, but this something forced him indeed to spit out blood which had gotten into his mouth, and bend over to pick up the katana again. All that without taking his blazing eyes off the Arishok, who halter when he realized Hawke was about to fight back.
As they faced off, Hawke tried his best now. He parried vigorously the Qunari, trying not to admit he was barely able to dodge the speeding up attack and that he wasn't able to strike the huge Qunari in response.
Not to let him grab me. Maker, please, if you hear me, just don't let him grab me.
Samael fainted right, whirling around, and he managed to pierce the Arishok's arm with a dagger he had ripped out of its belt sheathe. The heavy Qunari axe rumbled on the cold stone, but that sound got lost in the Qunari's roar of pain. One careless move and the Arishok managed to kick Hawke's katana out of his hand, leaving the hand bruised and paralyzed in pain afterwards. Hawke was punched straight into his torso which sent him flying backwards while he listened to the lyrical creaking of his poor ribs. He moaned when he hit the column and collapsed down helplessly. Fenris' white hair was prominent in the crowd around Hawke and for a brief second Hawke was able to see Fenris' clenched armored hands, his set jaw, puckered lips challenging him to get up and convince himself it didn't hurt that bad. But as Hawke pulled himself up along the column, he realized, that yes – it definitely hurt like hell. No rest for the wicked, because the Qunari attacked him again, still enraged because of the crippling injury.
Samael realized vaguely his counterattack was woefully slow. Oblivious to Hawke's obvious exhaustion and lack of will to win this fight, the Qunari leader made a mistake and a few second later he stared at the assassin's knife jabbed in his side. He ripped it out of the wound, roared again, but then he realized there was nothing standing between him and the human. He seized Samael's torso; the katana, the Qunari sword and axe wallowing forgotten on the floor, and he squeezed. Maker, he squeezed until the human screamed in pain, begging him to end it for him. Samael's ribs gave up and broke and this unbearable pain allowed Hawke to defy the Arishok as he punched him into his face with the back of his head, leaving him stunned for a few precious moments.
Hawke slumped down and he was barely aware the Qunari were now holding the struggling Aveline, Fenris and Varric, so they wouldn't interfere. Hawke started crawling away from the Arishok, who was still shaking his head and swaying in the middle of hall. Samael's hands started desperately scrabbling around for the katana and he knew the Arishok was approaching again – to finish him off this time.
"This is the end, basalit-an. Embrace it." The Qunari spoke in a hoarse voice, painfully close to Hawke. Samael's numb fingers finally managed to find the katana hilt, but he only raised it a few inches above the ground when a huge Qunari foot stomped on it and an awful snap reached Hawke's ears. The self-locking part of the katana was destroyed by the weight of the giant, and Samael found himself toting the katana hilt, while the blade itself was lying short way off. Hawke's katana of Seheron was finally defeated.
"Now you die." A familiar voice from above left Hawke indifferent. Once again he saw himself rolling on the cold flagstones, dodging the Qunari axe which had only one purpose now; kill him. Samael looked up into the Arishok's face which was reflecting all demons tormenting his soul. Samael saw nothing but a face of an enemy. His hand found by touch the chilling steel of the mutilated katana and Samael actually smiled mischievously at his rival before he jabbed the blade into his foot.
The Arishok howled in pain and tumbled down while everyone in the hall covered their ears and eyes, unable to look at the brutal fight in front of them. Hawke didn't wait for the Arishok to pull himself together. He crawled on top of him, but it was just now when he realized he couldn't pierce his heart mercilessly like he intended. He didn't realize the katana blade had cut him as well; deep into his palm.
"I won. You lost." Samael pressed the katana blade at the Qunari's throat before he dropped it and fell off the panting Arishok. Was he a coward? He could have killed him a second ago. But how could he ignore those nights spent together in docks, talking to each other? How could he forget the Arishok had tended to his injuries and let him stay in his compound? Were they friends? Or were they just two persons who happened to meet each other, they had found comfort in the other one, and now was the time to say goodbye? But why like this?
"Finish what you've started, basalit-an. Or we'll finish it for you." The Sten stepped forward and his spear in his hand spoke for itself.
"I won. There's no need to kill him. I defeated him, I decide what to do with him, and I want him to live. Now back off!" Hawke clambered up along a column; just a pure willpower and final resolve to keep his friend alive was forcing him not to submit to the pain shooting throughout his body.
"One of you must die, basalit-an. This is the demand of the Qun and I don't expect you to understand." The Sten took another step towards the silent Arishok. Samael's hand moved imperceptibly and the Sten gave a death rattle. He collapsed down with Hawke's throwing knife stuck in his throat. All the Qunari started grumbling and unsheathing their weapons, making a perfect ring around Hawke and their Arishok. Judging by the shouting and curses, Hawke somehow found within him the strength to defend his friend, but he knew he was about to be pierced by countless spears. Once again, he didn't care.
A sudden dazzling light ball appeared right beneath the assassin's feet and when it exploded, all the Qunari were thrown away from the epicenter. Hawke himself tumbled down, too, watching in awe the blue flames licking his body which was about to give up. The Qunari started to get up one by one, clearly shaken and searching for whomever had cast that spell. Samael was relieved when Fenris landed right next to him and pulled him up on his feet hastily.
"Fenris, we have to—" Hawke started explaining his plan frantically. A plan to save the Arishok.
"— we have to get out of here, Hawke." Fenris growled in reply, ignoring Samael's groans of pain when the adrenaline started to fade in his blood and the pain was taking over.
"C'mon, Hawke. We have to leave before it's too late! Which was like twenty minutes ago." Varric glared at the nearest Qunari and pointed Bianca at him to let him know he would shoot him without regret if he'd approach them.
"NO!" Samael wriggled furiously out of the elf's grasp, well aware of the Qunari sneaking to the Arishok again.
A simple gasp of pain lingering on the Arishok's lips transformed into his name, which made Samael to stop his efforts at once. Like in slow images, Hawke turned around and his dagger slipped out of his hand. The katana blade was stuck in the Arishok's chest and apparently he was the one who had placed it there. Defeated, Hawke fell on his knees by the dying Qunari leader. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. The Qunari pulled back when they saw the fight was reaching to its end and one of the rivals was about to die, just like their precious Qun had demanded. The nobles in the Keep started dusting themselves, glancing at each other cautiously, whispering to each other like they couldn't believe they were saved.
"I can… I can see it again, Hawke." The Qunari set his eyes at his rival who wasn't surprisingly the one who had ended his life.
"See what?" Samael sobbed and touched the katana blade, only to pull his shaking hand back a moment later.
"The white shores of Par Vollen." The Arishok blinked and his face relaxed. He was looking through Hawke at something Samael wasn't able to see. When was the assassin able to look at the Qunari's face again, the Arishok was dead.
oOo
"Is it… over?" Meredith along with her men and Orsino dashed inside, staring in awe around them. Mingled among the Templars was Ichabod Bane.
"It's over." One noble approached the Knight-Commander and his self-important smug on his face looked like it was him who had slain the Arishok.
"The city has been saved!" The people started hailing and hugging each other. Meredith slowly walked through the cheering mob until she reached the dead Arishok and Hawke still kneeling by him, surrounded by his friends.
"It appears Kirkwall has a new Champion." Meredith stated the obvious, observing the silent Hawke, the blood smeared all over him, the ugly scar across his face.
"I need… a moment." Unbelievably polite, Hawke stood up and leaned on both Aveline and Fenris who led him away from inquiring eyes.
"Well, it looks like we found the rest of Dumar." Varric muttered and closed the door leading to the Viscount's office behind his back. The corpse lay right in the middle of the room, beheaded and already stinking. Samael saw no point in his pretended repose anymore. He simply fell down, clenching his torso. Every breath he took was a torment. The scar on his face felt like his whole head was on fire.
"Hawke!" Only twice Samael saw Fenris so terrified. The elf wiped away the blood bubbles coming out of the assassin's mouth. They all jumped up when the door flung open and Ichabod scooted inside like a mad man.
"What that giant did to him? I came here just now." Ichabod asked with such urgency in his voice, everybody glanced at him in suspicion. "I ASKED WHAT DID HE DO TO MY — TO HAWKE?" his voice thundered when they remained speechless.
"Well, he probably broke his hand when he kicked the blade out of it." Aveline peeped her opinion, holding Hawke's pale hand in both hers.
"His ribs! They're probably broken." Fenris growled and shot a nasty glare at her, like the silly Aveline should have mentioned the ribs first instead of a stupid hand.
"Deep in shit! Anders is in Darktown, Merrill is who knows where. What are we gonna do? We have to do something, right? Right! Where's that horse? Or that! What's his name…?" Varric started rambling exquisitely.
"Stop fretting dwarf!" Ichabod's oddly calm voice silenced him.
"I'm not fretting!" Varric yelled in reply." And I've already heard that line before by the way!" Varric was losing it.
"What are you doing?" Fenris snatched Bane's hands when he placed them on Hawke's shattered body. "Was it true then? Are you yet another filthy mage?" Fenris tightened his grasp on Ichabod's hands, jabbing his armored fingertips into them.
"Hawke is dying." Ichabod said plainly, his voice freezing. "Do you want to be responsible for his death when you know I can probably save him?" Bane asked the elf, their eyes locked. "I didn't think so either," Ichabod nodded, when Fenris let go of him. "Pour it down his throat," he handed him over a flask with golden potion. Bane placed his hands on his son's chest, taking several deep breaths before his hands started emanating warm orange light.
"Are you a healer then?" Aveline broke the silence after a minute.
"No." Ichabod replied tersely.
"No?" Aveline's eyes narrowed.
"Let him do his job, Aveline, and for all my ancestors, please shut up!" Varric lashed out at her while pacing around them.
"It's not enough." Ichabod breathed out after several minutes of channeling his magic into Hawke's body. Bane's face turned into a bloodless, haggard mask.
"What do you mean – not enough? Is he still dying?" Fenris' voice was still hostile like this all was Ichabod's fault.
"I need… blood." Bane whispered almost inaudibly. "But I can't use mine. I swore many years ago, I wouldn't… ever again…" Ichabod's ashen face turned to Hawke's friends, searching their faces desperately one by one.
"Take mine." Aveline started ripping off her armor covering the forearm.
"Do I hear correctly?" Fenris stopped her doing in disbelief in his voice.
"Hawke came here because of me, Fenris! Some of us are not so simple-minded about blood magic! Not when a friend's life is at stake here!" The Guards Captain fried the elf with one annihilating glare. Fenris gaped at her for a moment before he tossed his glove away and reached his arm towards the mage.
"My blood should be more potent because of the lyrium." Fenris murmured, closing his eyes in torment since this went against all his rules and beliefs. Was Hawke even worth this? One glance at Hawke's ashen face in Fenris' lap told him, that is was completely worth it. Ichabod snatched the glowing arm and his mind strove towards one thing and one thing only – to save his son.
When Hawke opened a crack his eyes again, they all started breathing again. Varric leaned on the wall, groping his heart through the leather jerkin. Aveline held the tears barely in check while Fenris simply stared down at his squirming assassin. Ichabod crawled away from the friends and collapsed down. The Death was sniffing his son's ass, but he drove it away. That was all that mattered to him right now.
"You look like you see a dead person," Samael sneered and groped insecurely his sore torso.
"We did, Hawke. We did." Varric replied and turned around so nobody would see he was still knocked out of balance. Once again it appeared even mighty Hawke was just a mortal.
"Ichabod? When did you get here?" Samael asked when they pulled him up and he hissed in pain just a little. "Did I miss something?" the assassin managed to smile faintly at Fenris, who averted his eyes while he was hastily covering his wrist wound which had saved Hawke's life.
"As far as we know they are all waiting for their hero impatiently." Aveline coughed before she replied at his question.
"Champion?" Meredith addressed him with this unusual title when Hawke stalked to her. Samael knew immediately he hated it.
"The Qunari threat stopped here today, Knight-Commander. Send those people home." Hawke spoke and stomped to the dead Qunari leader. "I want his body and his weapons, Meredith. And keep that fancy title for somebody who would appreciate it." He didn't face the Knight-Commander when he said those rude words, so he missed the fact Meredith's face was changing colors in fury.
"The Arishok's body will be hung at the city gate to show how we treat invaders and mindless heathens, Champion." Meredith's slow words were like pouring cold water on Hawke's head.
"That wasn't a request, Meredith. I just informed you about my intentions." Hawke dismissed the topic and nodded at Aveline whose people were supposed to move the Arishok's corpse right now. Aveline didn't dare looking into Meredith's enraged face when she confirmed Hawke's demand and sent her men to do Hawke's bidding.
"I bid you good day." Hawke nodded at nobody particular before he slowly walked away; the body of his rival carried in front of him by six panting Guardsmen. Only now Hawke realized the rest of the Qunari had disappeared along with Isabela.