A/N: Alright! There's some action! Not much, but more than the other chapters. :)
I've made a few changes to the overall plot - the story actually takes place right before Act 3. To keep it from getting too boring, I'm going to use companion/side-quests for now, with the events of Act 3 showing up in a few chapters. This story won't be all that long, and will end shortly after the final events of DA 2.
Also - if you're interested, I'll have a new (longer) story up soon, called "A Tale That Wasn't Right" which I'll get up this week, along with chapter 5 for this story!
"Shut up, you little whore!" Hawke spun her staff, catching Isabela on the back of her knees and sending her stumbling forward weakly. The pirate cried out but quickly silenced, staring back at Hawke with proud, defiant eyes.
"I hope you're happy betraying your friends, Champion," she spat, pulling herself up off the ground.
Ignoring her, Hawke held out an eager hand to the man in front of her. "I expect you'll pay well for her?"
He nodded, dropping a few sovereigns into her waiting hands. "Your services are much appreciated," he drawled, his gaze flickering back to Isabela.
Nodding, Hawke simply said, "I hope Castillon takes the time to enjoy her. You can't imagine how long it took to tie her up like that. Actually," she paused, cocking her head thoughtfully, "I think she rather enjoyed it until she realized where I was taking her."
The man laughed, a loud guffaw that made Hawke wince.
Maker, she thought, cringing internally, what am I doing, leaving her with this brute? Before she could change her mind, Hawke bid Velasco farewell and spun out of the room. "Let's get out of here," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Fenris and Aveline to hear.
"You had a bit too much fun," the Guard-Captain commented. "Not that I'm criticizing. I would have, too."
A hand reached out to Hawke's shoulder, and with a start she realized it was Fenris. "We'll find her," he promised. "We won't let Castillon escape." His eyes were sincere, and Hawke felt herself relax.
"Thank you," she whispered. With an encouraging smile, the trio left the Blooming Rose and waited for Isabela's trail.
Hawke paused at the landing door, glancing up at the darkening sky. "We have to hurry." She turned back to her companions, hoping they wouldn't ask for an explanation. Anders had made it perfectly clear that their meeting was to remain a secret.
"She'll be fine," Fenris insisted, misreading her concern. "If she isn't, it isn't our faults. This whole plan was her idea."
"True." For a moment, Hawke felt incredibly stupid; she'd brought the only two people in her little group of friends who detested Isabela. But, her fears were lessoned when she saw the glint of worry in Aveline's eyes. She may try to pretend to hate Isabela, but Hawke knew she cared about her.
She also knew if she ever said anything about it, Aveline would put her through a world of hurt.
With a sigh, Hawke turned back to the door, pushing it open slowly. Velasco's voice echoed through the warehouse, taunting Isabela. Pausing, Hawke waited for her response.
"You know, despite popular belief, I do have standards."
Hawke wanted to give a little cheer for Isabela and her snarky tongue, but chose silence instead. Creeping through the first room, she dared to peek around the door. On the floor below, Velasco stood with the pirate, keeping a close eye on her. Isabela caught sight of Hawke and smiled, giving a little nod. Returning the nod, Hawke motioned to Fenris and Aveline. "Let's go."
"You!" Velasco sneered as the trio stormed down the stairs to where he was waiting. "I knew something was up. Kill them!"
Raiders appeared through doors and from behind columns. Hawke felt a little smile tug at the edge of her lips. Too easy. Twirling her staff in her hands, Hawke let the magical energy bubble up inside of her, exploding into a massive rain of fire that consumed the raiders on the ledge above them. Swords and shields clashed, but Hawke focused on the torrent.
Just as she was about to finish off the fire blast, she felt a blade make contact with her side. Crying out in pain, she stumbled forward and clutched at her stomach, her robe already sticky with blood. Aveline was there before Hawke could call out, planting herself firmly in front of her. Hawke leaned against a column, gasping for air and trying to keep her consciousness. Velasco's face came into view, but was soon replaced by Aveline's shield. Even after Velasco fell, Aveline remained at her side, but Hawke protested. "Go," she insisted, struggling to summon her healing aura.
The aura swept across the floor, sending a cool shudder of relief through Hawke. She could see in Aveline's eyes that the warrior had felt it, too, and she finally stood and rejoined the battle. In a matter of moments, Hawke could feel the skin on her side weaving itself back together, and her head began to clear. As soon as she had been healed enough to steady herself on her feet, Fenris appeared at her side.
"It's over," he consoled her. "How badly are you hurt?"
Hawke felt herself smiling at his concern. "I'm fine, now." Looking past him, she saw bodies strewn across the warehouse, blood spatters streaked across the walls. "You didn't leave any for me," she pouted.
"It's fine. You stick to the healing." As Isabela drew closer, Hawke saw that she had blood running down her dark boots. The pirate followed her eyes, poking her finger curiously along the outside of her thigh. "It's all better, Hawke. Not even a scar." Her eyes grew wide suddenly, and she gasped, "Is my jaw swollen?!" Isabela clasped her jaw, inspecting it with her fingers. "Maker," the pirate breathed, "I thought I'd be dealing with that for a week."
"Not if I can help it," Hawke smiled, trying not to wince as she stood. Noting the distant look in Isabela's eyes, she asked, "Where's Castillon?"
The pirate frowned, crossing her arms and walking a tight circle before answering. "I don't know. He'll be here soon, though. I want to look around first."
The group split up, searching the various rooms of the warehouse for any evidence of Castillon. Hawke had found a small office, and was rummaging through the desk for coin when she heard footsteps approach.
"Hawke," Aveline called quietly, "what's going on? You're not…" She paused as Hawke turned to her. "You're not fully engaged. What's on your mind, Hawke?"
"I just want to get home," she improvised, smiling. "I don't want to leave Olivia alone for too long."
Aveline's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she eventually nodded. "I just don't want to see your get hurt. If anything's wrong, you know you can come talk to me."
"Thank you, Aveline." Hawke grabbed the few sovereigns she had discovered and slipped them into her coin purse. As she and the warrior turned to leave, a foreign voice called out. Isabela's matched it, and they sprinted down to where Isabela and a strange man stood.
"Castillon," Isabela spat. She held up a roll of documents, sneering. "Slavery in the Free Marches. How do you think that's going to go over?" Before Castillon could answer, she offered him the papers, demanding, "I want your ship, and your promise to leave me alone."
"Deal."
"Isabela!" Hawke grabbed her wrist, preventing her from handing over the papers. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted him dead." She let Isabela's wrist go, shaking her head in confusion.
"I want him gone," she corrected. "I'm just doing it peacefully."
Castillon grinned, his eyes darkening sinisterly. "We could always solve this like civilized people, with our blades…"
Biting her lip, Hawke glanced out the dock at the twilight sky. "Maybe you're right, Isabela." She looked down, trying to ignore the fire in Fenris' eyes as arrangements were made to let the slavers go free. As soon as Castillon and his men had left, Hawke apologized to her group. "I have to go. I'm sorry." Without another word, she sprinted out of the warehouse and towards Darktown.
Anders stood and Olivia sighed, her eyes tracing his steps as he set off on another lap around his clinic. He walked the same circle over and over, mumbling under his breath. After three laps, he stopped. "She's not coming."
Letting her head drop into her hands, Olivia argued, "Yes, she is. I've told you, she was helping Isabela. Hawke will come, Anders."
"No, she won't. She said she'd be here before we went to The Hanged Man, and we're always there well before nightfall." His voice rose in volume and octave as he continued. "She knows what I did. Last time I asked for her help like this, I lost control. What she doesn't understand is—"
"Anders, please!" Olivia cried, dropping her hands into her lap. She wanted to help him, but he was beginning to drive her insane. "Hawke will come." Sighing, she went to comfort him, wrapping him in a quick hug before promising, "She'll be here soon. If not, I'm sure there's an explanation. You always have me, I promise."
"I do, don't I?" A strangely distant look overcame Anders, and he pulled away from Olivia and flipped through a heavy book on his desk in the corner of the clinic.
Once again, Olivia's suspicions were reignited. Anders was planning something. Something big. But, the Commander kept her thoughts to herself.
"I've discovered something, Olivia." Anders glanced over his shoulder. "I can…" He paused, hesitating for a moment before abruptly slamming the book shut and rushing towards Olivia. "I can separate Justice from myself. I can free myself."
"That's wonderful, Anders." Olivia bit her lip and looked away, not sure what to say. "If that's what you want, of course."
"I do. I know this is what I want, no matter the price."
"What price?" she demanded.
The mage placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. "Any price. I'm prepared to pay with my life."
His disregard for his own life annoyed Olivia, and she pushed his hands away. "And you want my help in this?" Startled at the venom in her own voice, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry. I'm being foolish; of course I'll help. What do we need to do?"
"I need some… reagents." Anders seemed reluctant to say more, but he finally continued. "Sela petrae, from the sewers, and drakestone from the mines. After that, I'll just need some time to prepare."
"Alright. Let's get started, and with luck, we'll finish up tonight." Olivia smiled and tugged her gloves on, pretending she hadn't noticed the dark glint in her old friend's eyes.
Hawke swore under her breath as the door swung open. Anders' clinic was empty; she was too late. Gritting her teeth, she spun on her heel to leave and nearly smacked into a young elven girl.
"Oh, Champion, I'm sorry," the girl mumbled, stumbling out of the way and shielding a young boy, maybe only five or six years old.
"It's fine," Hawke sighed. "Did you happen to see Anders?"
"The healer?"
She nodded.
The boy peeked around the door, checking the clinic. "He was in here earlier." He began to say more, but a cough wracked his body.
Kneeling down, the girl wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "It's okay," she whispered to him, before standing and turning back to Hawke. "I saw him earlier, and he said I could bring my brother in. But then… then we saw him leaving with a woman. I thought he'd be back."
Olivia, Hawke thought bitterly. She wasn't really angry with her or Anders, but more annoyed at the situation. She thanked the girl and was about to leave when she looked back at the two children, and her heart melted a bit. "I'm a healer, too," she offered. The girl's green eyes grew wide with hope, and Hawke ushered the children into the clinic.
Looks like I won't make it to The Hanged Man, either. Damn you, Anders.
Strike. Step left, back, strike again. Parry. Block right.
Right! Your other right.
Olivia could hear Alistair's voice in her ear, calling out instructions for her sword to follow. She wished he were there now, guiding her blade and shield against the spiders that filled the mines. The Commander slashed and hacked tirelessly, summoning a fireblast or frostbolt whenever she could manage. Anders' magic whirled around her, and soon a dozen spiders were curled up at their feet, dead.
Sheathing her sword, Olivia inspected her battered shield. The emblem of Redcliffe was barely visible under the layer of spider ichor. Sighing, she turned to Anders. "You've become quiet the healer since Amaranthine," she complimented. "I've barely got a scratch."
"Let's just get the drakestone and get out of here." Anders marched past her, his jaw set.
She sighed again. They'd already collected a pouch full of the sela petrae in the sewers, and in the mines they'd found a decent amount of drakestone, but still Anders wanted more. If this is what it takes to get Anders back to the way he was before, she thought, stepping over the corpses, I'll kill spiders for a week. I just want him to be happy again. She began to follow him through the mine, but a slow hiss caught her attention. Fully alert, Olivia sprinted around the curve, searching for Anders and hoping he hadn't been caught unaware by a spider.
But the mage was fine, kneeling over and inspecting what Olivia assumed was more drakestone. Still wary, she gripped her sword tightly and summoned a wave of ice to coat the blade. She made a slow circle around Anders, her eyes inspecting every crevice in the stone walls.
Another hiss echoed through the mine, and Olivia made a decision. "I'm going to look around," she told Anders. "I think we missed a spider."
He didn't answer.
Slowly, carefully, Olivia crept around the corner, careful to keep her shield from hitting her armor noisily. Again, she swept the narrow hall but found nothing. There's something here. I know it, she thought uneasily, backing into the opening where Anders waited. "If you're ready, let's go," Olivia called over her shoulder. "I don't want to stay here."
With a slight nod, Anders headed back through the mine. Olivia followed, keeping her sword close in case her suspicions were right. They soon emerged into another open space, and she began to doubt herself, allowing herself to relax.
As soon as Olivia lowered her sword, another hiss sounded through the air. "Anders!" she called in warning.
He turned, his eyes growing wide.
Before Olivia could ask, she was flung forward, pinned down beneath the weight of a spider. She twisted and writhed, but couldn't free herself. Anders shot a frostbolt at the spider, and Olivia managed to slither out from under the frozen beast. Without bothering to retrieve her sword, she let loose a torrent of flames at the spider, quickly melting the ice and singeing the spider's front legs. It lashed out as the fire died out, catching Olivia squarely in the chest. She stumbled backwards, but managed to stay upright. Gritting her teeth, she held her hands in front of her, focusing on the electricity that was beginning to crackle between her gloved hands. Olivia's concentration broke for a moment as a wave of heat rolled over her, but the flames of Anders' fireball consumed only the spider in front of them.
Grunting with the effort, Olivia thrust her hands forward and let the lightning fly towards the beast. By now, she was breathing heavily, and Anders had sputtered something about not being able to continue much longer. The spider, however, showed no signs of tiring.
Rage and frustration consumed Olivia, and she used the sudden burst of energy to slam ice and fire into the spider, the magic flying from her so quickly it was almost simultaneous. Again, the spider lashed out.
This time, Olivia was sent flying. It had caught her in her arm, leaving a dent in her plate armor and pain that reverberated from her shoulder to her wrist. She landed on the other side of the clearing, smashing her head into a rock. Olivia groaned, sitting up slowly as blood dripped into her right eye. "Maker," she whispered, her head throbbing and pounding as if she were being beaten with the rock over and over. Desperately, she tried to hold on to her consciousness, to reach out and help, but her eyes, stinging with blood, closed.
When Olivia reopened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the relief on Anders' face.
"I was afraid I'd have to drag you back to Kirkwall," he admitted, reaching down to wipe Olivia's face with a piece of tattered cloth. "There's blood all over you, and in your hair," he mumbled, "but the wound is closed."
"Thank you." Olivia looked up at him, smiling as best she could. She decided to ignore the pain in her arm, not wanting to tire Anders' out any more than he already was. He held out a hand and helped her stand, and she nearly immediately fell into him. Her head was spinning from the blood loss, and Anders' offered her his staff to lean on. "Thank you," she repeated.
"If you're alright, let's get to Kirkwall." His words were innocent, but his tone was hard and determined and unnerved Olivia.
"Anders," she murmured, reaching a hand out.
"Let's go." He shot her an aggressive look, shoving past her to walk back through the mines. "I've got what I need. We should get back to Kirkwall."
Olivia stood there for a moment, listening to his footsteps echo down the empty hallway; her outstretched arm fell limply back to her side and she felt her face twist in concern. I hope this works, she groaned internally, beginning to follow Anders. If not for him, for me. I can't take this much longer – this moody, angry Anders. This isn't the friend I left in Amaranthine. She sucked in a sharp breath as she forced herself to realize that, perhaps, no matter how Anders' experiment ended, she wasn't going to find the friend she left in Amaranthine.