A/N: One chapter left! This particular chapter gave me fits... But I'm nearly finished with the tenth and final chapter, and I'm pretty happy with it! Expect to see it in a few days.
If you haven't already, go ahead and check out my other story that I'm working on - "Why The Hero of Ferelden Owes Me Lunch"
Thank you so much for all the reads/follows/reviews! Pretty please drop a review if you have any comments or criticisms!
"I swear I'm going to burn this damned door down if somebody doesn't open it!" Olivia fumed, her gloved hands already beginning to release tendrils of smoke. She slammed her fist into the door a few more times, letting out a stream of curses aimed at Bodahn, Hawke, and Meredith.
"Serah—uh, Warden?"
Olivia relaxed at Bodahn's muffled voice. "Open up, Bodahn. I need to speak to Hawke right away." She heard him fumble with the lock, and as soon as the door opened he warned them that Hawke was asleep.
"See?" Alistair smiled. "It's okay. Hawke's fine," he assured Olivia.
She wasn't convinced. "The note said Fenris." Holding up the paper to prove her point, she made her way quickly up the stairs and to the bedroom. "Hawke?" she called, knocking as she opened the door.
Much to her surprise, Hawke's clothes were strewn around her bedroom. A pillow flew past Olivia's face and she quickly shut the door, catching only a brief glimpse of a very shocked Hawke pulling the covers up to her chin. "Don't you dare open that door back up until I tell you to!" she shrieked, her voice several octaves higher than normal.
Olivia turned back to Alistair, unable to hold back a laugh at his crimson cheeks. "Why don't you go downstairs," she suggested, "and I'll take care of Hawke." He didn't hesitate, mumbling something under his breath about women.
"You can come in now, Olivia. And… can you bring my pillow back, please?"
Stifling another round of laughter, the Commander grabbed the pillow and went to talk with Hawke. "So, I see your evening with Fenris was a success?"
Hawke, now dressed in her pajamas, ignored her, instead scooping up her robes from where they were sprawled on the floor near her desk. Finally, she grinned up at Olivia. "It was a success. Multiple times."
Raising an eyebrow, Olivia leaned against the doorframe. "Some things, I don't need to know."
"It started out terrible," she admitted, running her fingers through her disheveled red hair. "Danarius showed up, and Fenris wanted to kill his sister, and there was fighting and now there's blood all over The Hanged Man. And now, there's a little more stable in our relationship." Cocking her head thoughtfully, Hawke added, "There's more relationship in our relationship, actually."
Olivia bit her lip, not wanting to mar Hawke's happiness. "And where's Fenris now?"
This brought her up short. "He… Maker," she breathed, the smile dropping from her face. "Did he leave? He said he would be right back."
"I don't think he left, exactly."
"What happened?" Hawke demanded, reaching for her staff.
In response, Olivia handed her the paper note.
The Champion's emerald eyes flicked quickly over the page, her expression unreadable. "I need a minute, Olivia."
"Of course." Olivia shut the door behind her and joined Alistair in the study downstairs. "He's gone," she said simply.
"Are we going after him?" At Olivia's incredulous look, Alistair scrambled to rephrase. "I mean, I know we want him safe. I don't mind going after him. My real question, I guess, is are we interfering? You know, as Wardens?"
Staring intently at the fire, Olivia made a decision. Hawke was the only family Olivia was aware of having, and it was oddly warming to know she had relatives. As a Circle mage, she'd been forced to give up her family and her whole life before the Circle. The life of a Warden was similarly demanding. But now that she saw what she was missing out on, Olivia didn't want to give it up. "I'm interfering," she stated flatly, "as an Amell."
At that moment, Hawke flew down the stairs and out the door, fully robed with her staff and the paper in hand.
"She's going after him," Alistair realized, starting to follow her.
"Go. Don't let her hurt herself," Olivia commanded. "I'm going to get help."
"What help?"
A smile tugged on the edge of her lips. "A dwarf who will kill me if he doesn't get to see this."
"Please, Hotshot?"
"No."
"You can't drag me out of The Hanged Man—without letting me finish my drink, I might add—and into the Maker-forsaken heat of the Wounded Coast, telling me a good story the whole while, and leave out the juicy details." Varric was a few steps behind Olivia, panting heavily as they raced through the sand. "I'll tell you about Bianca," he offered breathlessly.
Olivia couldn't help but snicker. "No you won't." She hadn't known the dwarf very long, but she knew all questions about his crossbow would be answered with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
"I will too!" Varric insisted. "It might not be true, but I'll come up with a story."
"Look," Olivia sighed, pausing for a moment to catch her breath, "I didn't ask Hawke about what went on… once they were back at the estate. If you want the details, ask her." She looked around, trying to remember where the map had pointed to. "I think we go this way," she muttered, her brow furrowing. Motioning for Varric to follow, she took off down a small side path.
As the pair winded down the sandy path, Olivia began to hear voices shouting. No fighting, yet, just angry voices—then a strangled cry. It didn't sound like either Alistair or Hawke, but Olivia sprinted even harder, emerging into a large clearing as the fighting was beginning.
Without even thinking, Olivia jumped into the fray, sending a fireball into a cluster of blood mages on the far end of the clearing. A group of templars descended on her, and the Commander froze them in a case of ice with a quick swipe of her hand. In the battle's momentary pause, she saw that Hawke and Alistair were safe. Fenris was lying on the ground, and Olivia couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.
She turned her attention back to the templars. Varric had already taken care of one of them, but the other three remained frozen. With a grunt of effort, Olivia launched an arc of electricity at the templar closest to her and he crumpled to the ground. She managed another bolt of ice before they broke through, cleaving at her with their swords. Olivia grabbed her shield, shrugging off most of the hits. She was on the defensive, but she was able to find a few openings to attack.
With another fireball and a little more electricity, the mages and templars alike were vanquished. One of them approached Hawke timidly, explaining something to her. Olivia strained to hear, but his voice was too low. Sweating from the battle, the Commander shed her gauntlets and plopped down on the sand to inspect her badly bruised shield-arm.
As she ran a mild healing spell over the tender flesh, the mage summoned blood magic that lifted Fenris from the ground. As soon as he had awoken, Hawke rushed forward to him. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that they were both alright, and turned her attention to Alistair, who was in the middle of an animated conversation with Varric. Her breath caught as she saw the way he was cradling his shoulder. Maker. How many times can that man dislocate the same joint?
"Alistair," she called, not bothering to stand.
He turned, his eyes widening with concern as he saw her sitting on the ground. She shook her head, trying to let him know she was alright. Alistair and Varric both came over to where she sat, Alistair joining her in the sand.
"You messed up your shoulder again, didn't you?" Olivia sighed.
"Only a little bit, this time." He winced as Olivia tried to inspect his shoulder, pulling away and continuing to support it with his right arm. "I think the armor's holding it in place, actually. So don't touch."
"No," Olivia decided, "you're going to Anders. Maybe he can heal it better than I can."
"Actually," Varric interjected, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to visit Blondie right now. He's more Justice than Anders, and half the time I go to check on him and the clinic's closed. Something isn't right."
Biting her lip, Olivia wondered briefly if his strange behavior had anything to do with the reagents she'd helped him gather. Before she could think for too long, Hawke called out to their group. "We should get back. Fenris needs to rest." One of his arms was draped over Hawke's shoulders, but from the way he drug his feet in the sand, Olivia suspected it was more out of necessity than affection.
"Let's go," Olivia agreed, her concerned directed towards Alistair. They stood and followed Varric back towards the path that led back to Kirkwall.
"So, there's two very important things we need to talk about."
"Hmm?" Digging a lyrium potion out of her still-overstuffed pack, Olivia turned back to where Alistair was sprawled out on the bed.
"First, I find it very disappointing how I've only seen you twice in the last three months, and both times it's involved you healing my shoulder."
With an apologetic smile, Olivia began running her healing spell along Alistair's shoulder, inspecting the extent of the damage this time. "And second?"
"That can wait. I'd rather focus on the first." His face twisted in pain as Olivia summoned a more powerful wave of magic.
"I'll just get Hawke." With a tired groan, Olivia left the unused potion on the nightstand and marched out of the bedroom into the study, ignoring Alistair as he pointed out that he wasn't finished talking. She made her way upstairs, gently knocking on the door to Hawke's room.
The door opened quickly. "Alistair's shoulder," Hawke guessed, her green eyes bright with worry.
Olivia nodded.
"Alright." She pushed past the Commander, rushing down the stairs. "Is it normal for someone to be so… weak? I mean, I don't know what happened, exactly, with Fenris, but…"
"I have no idea," Olivia admitted. "I got knocked into the Fade once by a sloth demon, and it took weeks before I felt normal again," she offered, trying to ease Hawke's concern. "He'll be fine."
"I hope." She was already in the other bedroom, dashing about frantically. "You don't mind if I use this, do you?" she asked, pointing to the potion.
Shaking her head, Olivia sat on the bed next to Alistair. His eyes flickered between the two woman pointedly, asking what was wrong. Olivia looked back at Hawke and felt her brow crease with concern. Alistiar reached over and took one of her hands, his eyes soft.
"Oh," he gasped suddenly. "That feels so much better. I should've gone to one of the healers the first time this happened."
"Let go of her," Hawke instructed, her voice soft yet insistent.
"Why?"
"Because it's about to hurt. A lot. And I don't feel like healing a broken hand tonight," she added with a sigh.
Olivia tugged her hand free and turned to face away from them. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited.
"Hawke. Hawke…" Alistair's voice continued to grow louder. "Haw—Oh, Maker! Ow, oh, don't touch me anymore."
When the worst was over, Olivia turned back to him and took his right hand. "And you blamed me for it hurting," she smiled down at him.
"To be fair, this hurt a lot less," he shot back. "And I think I'm just going to stop using my shield from now on. Having a stab wound healed doesn't hurt."
"A dislocated shoulder won't kill you." With a sly grin, she added, "But a dagger lodged in your rib cage will."
"Lodged? It barely scraped the flesh," Alistair scoffed. "Besides, I blame Nathaniel for that one."
Olivia didn't notice as Hawke slipped from the room and closed the door behind her. "No, I think it's all your fault." She curled up next to Alistair, breathing in the soft lilac scent of the tunic Hawke had found for him.
"And why's that?" he muttered softly, absentmindedly beginning to twirl a piece of her caramel hair.
"You were protecting me," she managed through a yawn, the fatigue of the past two days threatening to overwhelm her. "I don't blame Nathaniel for that. Are you ever going to tell me about the second thing you wanted to talk about?"
Alistair breathed a heavy sigh. "We need to go home. We're too involved in this already, and we can't stick around and wait for something worse to happen."
"Mhmm." Olivia closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Alistair. "Sleep first. We'll leave in the morning."