28
For once, timing was on Isabela's side. Hawke was still alive, and standing before the Qunari Arishok.
Isabela had never seen him in the flesh. She'd only seen his dreadnought as it tore her ship apart. He was a mountain. He towered over the crowd at 10 feet tall, and was at least triple the bulk of a human man. He had the largest horns she had ever seen, and his grey skin was painted with red war paint.
He held two enormous blades, one he rested casually on his shoulder, the other he held down loosely at his side, but the implications of them being drawn at all were clear. The disembodied head of Viscount Dumar lay at his feet. Standing in front of him, alone, Hawke looked like a small child by comparison.
Aveline, Varric, Fenris, Merrill and Anders were all lined up against the wall, with soldiers on either side of them. Hawke had been the only one permitted to approach. The humans in the room were all on their knees, some prayed, some cried, but all looked utterly hopeless.
The Arishok didn't even look in Isabela's direction as she crossed the room, his eyes focused entirely on Hawke, but every other Qunari stared at her and drew their weapons. Isabela slowly made her way towards the two figures at the head of the room.
"I believe you are after this " she announced, putting on a false air of confidence.
One of the Arishok's foot soldiers stepped forward and took the tome from her. She felt relieved to be done with its burden, both physically and otherwise.
Hawke turned towards her. "Thank you, for coming back" she said quietly. She looked thin and exhausted, with dried blood spatter covering her face. She'd been fighting all night.
"Oh, look who's here. Trying to save the world again? Don't worry, I've got it covered this time" Isabela snapped.
She wasn't angry at Hawke. Not really. She was angry at herself. She had broken every rule she'd ever had, and allowed herself to develop feelings for someone. Now, she'd committed the one selfless act of her life, and Castillion would have her head for it.
"The Tome of Koslun…" the Arishok murmured, resting one of his blades against the staircase, as he felt the weight of the book. "The relic is reclaimed. I am now free to return to Par Vollen, with the thief."
"What?" Isabela blurted out, stunned.
Hawke looked him in the eye, craning her neck to clear his height. "No. Isabela will answer according to our laws, not yours."
If this came to a fight, the Qunari had them outsized and outnumbered. The Arishok handed the book back to his soldier, and picked up his second blade. "Then you leave me no choice. I challenge you, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death, with her as the prize.
"No no no no! Nobody's fighting for me! Arishok, if you're going to duel anyone, duel me!" Isabela interjected desperately.
The Arishok curled his lip as he looked down at her. "You are not worthy, thief."
It was something Isabela had been told her whole life, but had never truly believed until that moment.
Hawke turned back to Isabela. Their eyes locked, blue on gold, and Isabela was certain that this was the moment that Hawke would finally give up on her. Instead, Hawke unsheathed her staff and stepped in front of Isabela, putting her body between the pirate and the Qunari leader.
"I accept your challenge, Arishok. As long as I still draw air, you won't put a hand upon her."
The Arishok gave Hawke an appraising nod. "A pity, Hawke. I had thought you were more prudent. You, alone, are worthy of respect. Kirkwall will be worse off for your loss."
Hawke nodded. "We will see."
The Arishok boomed commands to his soldiers in Qunlet, and they started moving the human hostages to the edges of the large, rectangle room. A Qunari appeared on either side of Isabela, grabbing her roughly by the elbows.
"Hawke, no" Isabela whispered, terrified, as she watched the giant Arishok strap on his leather armour.
Hawke turned to her. "If I lose, I just want you to know that you… meant a lot to me."
"Hawke… I…" Her words were cut off when the two Qunaris lifted her off her feet and dragged her up the stairs.
There, Isabela, the Knight-Commander, and the rest of Hawke's companions were surrounded by guards. They were the only humans in the room with weapons, and they were corralled like animals, so that they couldn't help even if they tried. The Arishok and Hawke went to opposite ends of the room, preparing themselves for battle.
"Why have they moved the hostages to the edges of the room? People will be hurt!" Aveline demanded to know.
"The Arishok knows that Hawke is a mage. By keeping civilians close, she will kill many innocents if she uses a high impact spell. He knows that she won't do that. It's a clever strategy" Fenris answered matter-of-factly.
Hawke and the Arishok bowed to each other, and with that, the battle began. The Arishok launched himself at Hawke, his massive blades being swung wildly by his enormous arms. They were still red and slick with the viscount's blood.
Hawke stayed close, dodging his attacks and continuously firing at him with perfectly aimed flourishes from her staff. Her attacks were limited by the civilians lining the walls. She couldn't unleash a powerful spell without taking out half the room, and she couldn't get much close enough to him without having her head lopped off by a blade. His strategy was working.
"If Hawke dies for you, I will kill you myself" Aveline growled through gritted teeth.
Isabela felt guilt and fear churning in her belly. "I asked her not to. I… didn't want this…"
"You knew what you were doing, thief. Hawke would never let them take you. You've used her feelings to your advantage for far too long" Fenris sneered.
Hawke was starting to tire. She was not in peak condition, and it showed. Her dodges were becoming near misses, and the Arishok's blades were coming closer and closer to her pale skin. She mistimed a twirl, and one of his blades bit into the side of her chest. The crowd gasped audibly as the mage cried out in pain. Blood quickly started to seep from the wound.
Hawke became unsteady on her feet, as the blood loss took its toll on her balance. She shot a continuous stream of fire at him, and he raised his blades to protect his unguarded face. The blades melted under the heat, and with an angry roar, he threw them at Hawke. One of them hit her leg, knocking her to the floor, and she screamed as she landed on her injured side, with the melted steel burning her shin.
The Arishok approached her and with one of his powerful arms, picked her up by the throat. He raised her above his head as her legs kicked and she struggled for breath. She tried to lift her staff, but the Arishok head butted her in the face, the hideous crack of her nose audible in the otherwise silent room. Her staff dropped to the ground.
Isabela looked away. She couldn't watch. She could hear the sounds of Merrill weeping behind her, as Aveline cursed under her breath.
"Keep your eyes up, wench. Look at what you have done. The least you can do is watch her die for you" Fenris hissed.
He was right. She owed Hawke that, and so much more. She lifted her gaze to watch her loved one's final moments. The bridge of Hawke's nose had split, and blood was pouring freely from the gash, covering her neck and the front of her robes. She clawed at his taloned hand with her nails, but the flailing of her legs had begun to slow. Her bulging eyes scanned the room, and for a moment, Isabela could swear that they locked on her.
With one last burst of energy, Hawke raised her hand and shot a fireball directly into the Arishok's face. He dropped her immediately, and she landed with a sickening snapping sound, as the Arishok bellowed in pain, bringing both hands up to his face. The flame engulfed him, and he fell to the ground.
Hawke used her arms and dragged herself along the ground to where her staff lay, crying out in pain with every movement. Her legs hung lifelessly behind her as she made her way to the Arishok, who was still batting away the fire on his face. In one swift movement, she brought the blade of her staff down onto his throat, brutally cutting it down to the bone. He stopped moving, and Hawke rolled onto her back beside him, making an unnatural whistling sound as she forced air in through her crushed throat.