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Aveline watched in horror as the flames roared towards her friend. She tried to call out but her head still swam and her arm ached from the impact she had made when she hit the ground.
She saw Anders drop his staff and run to Hawke, and although he made it just in time, he succeeded only in throwing himself over to shield her.
The scream stuck in Aveline's throat. A wave of anguish crashed in to her, stealing her breath. How could this be happening. They had won and now… this…?
The heat from the blaze faded as quickly as it had come, and the tongues of fire disintegrated into ash and smoke that almost made the Guard Captain choke. When the debris had subsided somewhat, it was with equal shock and relief that she realised her two friends were in the midst of the cloud, apparently unharmed.
It took a few moments for them to move, as if they didn't quite believe it themselves.
"Hawke, are you hurt?" Anders asked the blonde, his hand on her shoulder for support as she coughed.
"Not sure how, but I don't think so." The swordswoman eventually gasped. "You?"
The mage smiled. "Thank the Maker. I thought I'd lost you."
The two struggled to their feet, the scraping of Hawke's sword being retrieved making Aveline find it in her to push herself to stand. Her head still swam, she thought she might vomit, but there was still a fight to be had and she needed to be alert.
She scanned the square for the enemy and was 'rewarded' with the silhouette of the woman, now just about visible in the swirling ash, although that was rapidly being swept away revealing a better view.
If the mercenary seemed deranged before, she looked absolutely terrifying now. Her dark matted hair sticking to her face, daggers held menacingly. The three made their way tentatively towards her. Aveline went to raise her shield, but a shooting pain ran up her arm. Damn.
Anders had dropped his staff, Hawke no doubt was suffering from the same effects as herself. She cursed. If only Hawke had hit the mad bitch with the bladed side, she doubted a woman without feet would be causing them this much trouble. She grunted, she knew it had never been in the swordswoman's nature to be cruel.
But just as it had taken her some time to see through the smoke, it seemed their enemy had too. As she saw the lack of damage she had inflicted to her target, that same screech permeated the charcoaled air. The speed with which she charged Hawke was truly terrifying, the shieldswoman doubted she would have been able to keep up with her even without her head spinning.
She heard Hawke swear as she hefted her blade, catching the first swipe, but only just. The mercenary pressed her advantage, the savagery of her second attack knocking Hawke back. The blonde just about caught herself, though she was far from certain on her feet.
Aveline grunted, without thinking she tried to raise her shield to assist, but the same pain raced through her arm more intense than before, stealing her breath. Her weapons clattered to the ground as her uninjured arm flew to the other to brace it.
Shit. Shit. "Anders! Help Hawke!" She cried out, tearing her eyes away from where her friend was just about managing to fend off the mad woman to the mage who had run to retrieve his staff. He gripped the weapon and moved his hand in a casting motion… nothing happened. "Anders!" She barked.
"It's not working!" He bellowed, confusion and panic filled his eyes.
SHIT!
The Guard Captain's eyes turned to Hawke who had been knocked to the floor. The mercenary's gaze was now on Anders, grinning as she observed his desperate attempts to summon his magic. She obviously knew something they didn't. "Oh dear," She called to him, as the swordswoman was trying to drag herself to her feet in splutters. "Struggling are we? At least I know that it's you who has stone now." She turned back to Hawke, kicking her in the torso violently.
The blonde dropped to the ground again with a grunt.
"I also know it's reached its capacity… so you won't be able to try your little trick again."
What was that?! The stone had protected Hawke and Anders?
But if the dark haired woman was correct in what she was saying, it wouldn't help them again against further magic attacks. Aveline knew that she was now useless in this battle, Anders was still trying to cast with no success, the movement of his now shaking hands becoming more and more desperate… and Hawke…
It turned Aveline's stomach to hear the sickening thuds that accompanied the mercenary's fists as they pounded in to her friend.
Helplessness was not something the Guard Captain was used to, but it was a sense that currently overwhelmed her. No. She had to do something.
So she decided upon the only thing she could think of.
"Anders! Keep trying, I'm going for help!" The mage gave her a nod, and she turned and fled. The mercenary did not even bother to look over, clearly too intent on her torment of Hawke. Aveline felt a pang of guilt, leaving Hawke to the mercy of that mad woman was the last thing she wanted to do… but they were out of their depth. They needed help.
Her injury meant her speed was slowed, though you couldn't tell that by her ragged breathing. The pain was now a pulse in her shoulder making her feel sick. It honestly felt as if her shoulder was about to pop out of its socket. An image in her mind of seeing Hawke being punched in the face returned to her, the back of her head smacking into the rain slicked ground. She shook her head. She couldn't stop.
She didn't realise how far she had run when she saw the steps to the Barracks. She fought the urge to sigh with relief, she didn't have the time.
She didn't know how much longer Hawke could hold out, but Aveline knew it wasn't long.
She pressed herself up the stairs, her world was spinning. More than once she had to stop herself vomiting. What the fuck had she done to her shoulder? The spell that had knocked them back was like nothing she had even known… it was like being hit by a wall.
She pushed herself through the door where Donnic was speaking with a tall, armoured man. That didn't matter right now. She wasn't fucked about looking weak in front of some diplomat or even her own men. She cared about her best friend dying. Her fiancée's eyes widened as he saw her stagger in and he rushed to her, catching her as she fell. He supported the wrong arm, agony coursing through her. "Donnic… you must…"
"Hush love, tell me what happened… I need a healer!" He shouted to anyone who would hear.
She noticed that the man had moved to her side and was crouching as if to offer assistance.
Aveline shook her head staying focused on Donnic. Her instructions seemed to come out more as ragged pants than orders. "No… you must go to High Town… the main square… Hawke… she's going to kill Hawke…"
"Who's going to kill Hawke?" The other men beside her asked urgently, his tone made her look to him.
The surprise rendered her speechless for a moment, although remembering the way Hawke had been forced to the ground made her find it quickly. "You…?!"
"Where in High Town…?" He pressed.
"… the courtyard… by Hawke's house…"
He didn't ask anything else, he left her in Donnic's arms as he raced into the night through the already open door.
….
Hawke sucked in a breath, realising with some panic that she was on the cold wet cobbled floor face down. She must have passed out… how long for she didn't know.
There was a metallic taste in her mouth that she recognised as blood, her entire body racked with pain. She tried to move, but the agony that followed forced her back down.
"Just kill me then! What are you waiting for?!" She heard Anders goad. She tried to twist her head and saw the healer on his knees, Ija circling him.
"Why would I do that?" She asked mockingly. "There's no fun in that…"
"Kill me but leave her alone." Anders body sagged against his staff, a dark red liquid flowing from a wound in his head.
Hawke could hear the mercenary's low laugh even from where she was. "Answer me this then… do you love her?"
"What?!"
"Do you love her?" Ija repeated.
"…yes…"
"Then tell me, lover boy… why does he love her more than he loves me? Who better to ask than another stupid sap enamoured with the stupid sow?"
She kicked him and the mage fell to the ground with a grunt. "Probably because she's not a sadistic psychopath…" He choked out, earning himself a kick more brutal than the last.
Hawke felt her stomach lurch… she was going to kill him.
"Why do you love her?" She demanded.
Hawke felt her eyes sting, tears threatening. He was being hurt because of his loyalty to her. Her friend… and she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. She didn't know where Aveline had gone… Merrill was out of action… her eyes briefly turned to the entrance to the courtyard, willing Fenris, Varric, Isabella and Sebastian to run to the rescue. But she knew that was a pale hope. They had clearly underestimated the enemy. She hoped they were alright.
Another kick. The mage all but whimpered.
"WHY DO YOU LOVE HER?!" Ija screamed. Hawke knew she had to do something.
"Because… she's her." She growled. Blood now trickling from his mouth. She had to do something.
"WHY DOES HE LOVE HER?!"
Hawke dragged in another breath, it made her wince feeling her ribs shift. "HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT YOU STUPID BITCH!" She bellowed as loudly as she could, rain water stinging the cuts in her mouth. She didn't know how loud she had been, but it clearly had gotten the mage's attention. Ija gave Anders another kick, he lay still on the ground, before she stalked over to Hawke. She roughly grabbed a handful of the blonde's hair, twisting her body around so she was on her back. Hawke's breath was snatched with the agony of the motion, but she had succeeded in getting the mercenary away from Anders.
"Not so pretty now, are you?" Ija spat in her face. A little bit of saliva seemed the least of Hawke's concerns.
"I've had worse." The swordswoman gave her dark haired assailant what she was sure was a bloody grin, though she couldn't hide the grimace when Ija tightened the grip on her hair and forced her head back.
"Why?!" She hissed. "What is so special about you?!"
"My shining personality? I'm surprised you had to ask." She muttered through gritted teeth.
The cry of pain came as an involuntary shout as she felt Ija's fist connect with her torso. It forced all of the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping for air.
"You arrogant bitch. He gave that stone to me. But he still took it to lure you and that pious bastard out. He knew what it meant to me. What it did for me. But no… I had to look at the bigger picture apparently… you were more important…"
"An engagement present perhaps?" She ventured, though it came out as a rasp. She was rewarded with a punch to the face… she felt the back of her head smack hard into the stone behind it. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out. Nothing moved… as much as she willed her body to comply, it refused.
"Well I suppose given you're about to die I can tell you… so you can feel remorse about what you did to me…"
"Unlikely…" She was grateful not to receive another fist to the face.
"I hate these disgusting abilities… that stone was my salvation," she took pause and smirked almost wistfully. "But I suppose I should be grateful, I would never have defeated you if I'd still had it… But now I get him and the stone back and you'll be gone… so I guess you'd say that's a 'win win' for me."
"I'm so happy for you…"
She tried to twist to see Anders. Still unmoving. Please stay down… stay alive…
Her eyes closed. She felt the cool water at her fingertips. The mist that still fell throbbed at the wounds she had received. Though the water was a welcome release for her parched and broken lips.
"He will be angry you know… that I've killed you. But he will forgive me… he always does."
Hawke opened her eyes, as she heard the ring of steel. Ija was holding one of her daggers with that menacing look in her eyes. "I suppose it's time that I send you back to your mother… I'll send your sister your regards. Don't worry, I won't kill her. But for your brave friend over there… I can make no such promise…" The swordswoman followed her tormenter's gaze to Anders, now struggling to stand to no avail. His eyes sad, she was sure he was crying as their gaze's locked.
Hawke. He mouthed, reaching out. She was only sorry she couldn't reach back in her final moments. Her eyes stung again and she felt a warm tear spill down her cheek. I'm sorry.
She sucked in what was sure was her last breath. Perhaps this is what I deserve?
Her mother's last words returned to her, the image of her lying in her arms, her life slipping away. My little girl has grown so strong. I love you. You've always made me proud.
She didn't feel strong. She felt weak. That made her tired. It made her ache. But more than anything it made her angry.
The memory rushed forward. Feeling her mother's body sag in her arms, the light leave her eyes, the sickening reality of never seeing her again. The despair, the grief, the guilt all raged through her once more… that was something she never wanted anyone she loved to feel. The thought of Anders watching her fade away was too much to bear.
No.
If she was going down, she was going swinging.
She didn't know how she did it, but she brought her body forward, slamming her forehead into Ija's already broken nose where she crouched before her.
The mercenary was forced back, cursing several swear words. Hawke didn't care, she rolled on her front and tried to stand. Her leg slid from under her. No such luck, but she was rewarded with the sight of her sword. She scrambled for it. Before she could reach it, there was a boot in her back forcing her down, forcing her to inhale rainwater. This wasn't it. She wouldn't let it be.
Hawke reached for the hilt, just beyond reach. The tip of her finger touched the cool steel. Just a bit more.
"And what exactly are you hoping to achieve? You can't win. You can't beat me in combat anymore… and as for magic… the stone is already at capacity… it can't help you anymore."
"Maybe I just don't want to give in to a lesser fighter…" Hawke huffed.
Ija's boot lifted for a moment, to slam back down in to her back. The pain tore through her, but it allowed her that second to shift forward and grip her hilt fully.
She tried to lift it. Her arm trembled with the effort.
"NO!" she screamed. She twisted, kicking at Ija's supporting leg, causing the mage to crash to the floor. Her body wailed under the pain. Hawke took the opportunity to scramble away, dragging her sword with her. She tried again to stand, but after several pants only succeeded in getting to her knees.
Ija dragged herself to her feet with a growl. "I've changed my mind… I'm going to kill your friend over there while you watch… then I'm going to kill your sister in ways you cannot imagine… and then I'm going to torture that elf you're so fond of until he curses the day he ever met you…"
Hawke's blood ran cold. Fenris? They had him… that meant they had Varric too…
Ija's charge began and Hawke tried in vain to bring her sword around. She was fairly certain her left arm was broken. She hissed her will and pain forward, but it was a difficult weapon to wield one handed. With a body so broken, it was all but impossible.
"Hawke!" She heard Anders cry.
But she couldn't look away from her attacker. As much as she wanted to give him a look of reassurance. Not that she thought there was anything to reassure him about.
Ija was within close range now. Hawke gave a cry of frustration, willing her body to obey her. She swung forward more out of stubbornness than any skill, a searing pain jolted through her entire back causing her to try and catch her breath. It forced the mercenary to dodge, giving Hawke a precious few seconds before she would be on her again, she forced herself to her feet, feeling her legs tremble beneath the strain.
The mage charged, blades in hand. Hawke's breath hitched. What the hell was she going to do?!
Her head swam with the pain. Every joint and muscle she had ached and throbbed. Even holding her sword was enough to make her back pulsate.
My little girl has grown so strong.
Fuck that.
She snarled her hatred forward. Swinging weakly with one arm. Perhaps it would hit one of her ankles? No such luck.
But as Ija's dagger was just about to bear upon her, a figure charged, tackling the mercenary to the ground.
There was a mist over Hawke's eyes, her consciousness fading, every ragged breath causing her yet more pain. She sank to her knees. Willing herself not to be sick.
She could hear the clangs of steel beyond, it seemed that was all her mind was able to take in. There were flames, she felt a heat, she heard a roar. "You'll have to do better than that!"
A voice she knew but could not recall.
There were several more exchanges, but nothing she could discern. She sucked in a slow breath. But it seemed it did nothing to steady her.
Footsteps fleeing. How long had that been? It took enough to stay upright. She felt her body sag and she expected the cold of embrace of the floor to follow shortly, instead arms caught her. Cool steel. An embrace she remembered. She forced her eyes to open and found herself looking in to familiar brown eyes.
"Hawke…" He seemed desperate to get her to answer.
"… Alistair…" She mumbled before succumbing to the pain.
