29

The crowd cheered as the Qunari traded confused looks. The prospect of their Arishok falling had not been expected. They began to disperse, silently making their way out of the door of the Keep.

Anders was the first to move, running to Hawke's side to assess her injuries.

"Will she live?" Meredith asked him.

"I… I honestly can't say. Her throat is crushed and I think her back is broken. She's lost a lot of blood. This is beyond one healer's gifts. I'll need a team" he said, looking up at the Knight-Commander pleadingly.

"Very well. This mage fought heroically. She's a Champion of the people of Kirkwall. I will see that she gets the healing she needs, or a comfortable passing, at the least..." She turned her icy stare upon Aveline. "Guard Captain, make haste to the Gallows. Get Senior-Enchanter Orsino, and his most trusted healers. They have my leave to come to the Keep."

"Immediately, Knight-Commander. Thank you" Aveline said, running out of the room.

"I need some space. Fenris, help me carry her to the viscount's office" Anders instructed, and together, both the men hoisted up her limp, bloodied body, and carried her out of the room.

Isabela sat down and drew her knees up to her chest, putting her head in her hands.

"Rivaini…" Varric started.

"Don't Varric. There's nothing to say."

Merrill sat down beside her and placed a thin hand on Isabela's shoulder. "I think it was very brave of you to come back, Isabela."

"No, Kitten. I'm not brave. A brave person would never have run in the first place. Look at what that monster did to her. Because of me." Silence answered her, and Isabela knew that she had spoken the truth.

The jubilant sounds of the relieved crowd chanting "Champion" seemed so out of place, with Hawke dying in the next room.

Isabela paced the long hallway of the Viscount's Keep. The First-Enchanter and his healers had arrived hours ago, but the door had stayed closed.

Isabela already knew what she needed to do. She was leaving Kirkwall. Forever. She should have done it a long time ago. The first time she realised that Hawke was in love with her. And definitely, the first time that she realised that she loved Hawke back. But she needed to say goodbye first. Hawke had earned that much.

After what seemed like a lifetime, a middle aged elf led five mages in Circle robes out of the office, followed by Anders. The Fereldan healer approached the group. He was covered in blood, and his face was weary.

"Anders…?" Aveline almost wept the name.

His face was tired and lined with worry as he addressed them. "She's alive. We've treated the worst of it, but we're all exhausted. The Circle mages are going home to get some rest before we continue our treatment later tonight. It will take a long time to get her back into fighting shape. Her injuries are severe."

"Can we see her?" Aveline asked, marching towards the door before waiting for the answer. Merrill, Varric and Fenris waited in the hallway, while Aveline and Isabela went in.

Hawke was laid out on a makeshift bed, sleeping. Her blood-soaked robes were crumpled in a corner, and there was a sheet over her naked body. Her face was almost unrecognisable. Her nose was badly broken and split across the bridge, which had caused her eyes to swell and bruise, and her throat was an angry red and purple swirl.

"Oh Hawke…" Aveline murmured, placing a worried hand on the mage's forehead.

"What is this? Half a dozen mages spent five hours healing her, and this is what she looks like?! Did you people even do anything?!" Isabela demanded.

Anders glared at Isabela. "Apart from saving her life, do you mean? We focused on the internal injuries, Isabela. The wound on her side was deep. Fatal, almost. Her throat was crushed. Her back was broken. Her leg was badly burned. And we need to safeguard against infection. Her face is the least of it. I'm sure that's hard for somebody as shallow as you to understand, but believe me, we're doing all we can."

"That's not how I meant it, Anders…" Isabela stopped mid-sentence. There was no use defending herself. They all hated her anyway.

"Has she regained consciousness?" Aveline chimed in with motherly concern.

Anders nodded slightly. "Yes. She was awake when we were healing her chest. She bit through a leather glove before falling unconscious again."

Isabela looked down at Hawke. My sweet thing…

"Do you think I could have a moment with her?" Isabela asked, looking tentatively to her former-friends.

Aveline stood up. "Absolutely not, Isabela, this is your fault! If you think I'm going to let you within 100 feet of Hawke ever again - "

"Aveline, don't. Hawke was asking for Isabela before she fainted again. She would want to see her" Anders intervened quietly.

Aveline scowled deeply. "Very well. You have five minutes, whore. Just try not to make things any worse!"

Aveline stormed out, but Anders held back, putting another blanket on top of Hawke. "I can't believe she fought him… Why would she do that?" he muttered to himself.

Isabela looked at the concern on the healer's face. "You realise she's not interested in you, right?"

A sad smile spread over Anders' face. "You would think that way, Isabela. The idea that a man would care about and have respect for a woman without wanting to squeeze between her thighs, is a foreign concept to you. Hawke is my friend, and that's all. Not that it would matter anyway. What man or woman could compare to her great love for you?"

Isabela shifted uncomfortably. "That's been over for a while now…" she said quietly.

"For you, maybe. I think Hawke just demonstrated to all of Kirkwall that it isn't over for her."

Isabela rested a tender gaze upon Hawke. "I didn't ask her to do that, Anders…"

"You didn't need to. You know her. She doesn't discard people as easily as you do" he said pointedly.

Isabela sighed. "I'm a horrible, lying, thieving, snake. Is that what you want to hear? I already know all that. You don't have to keep rubbing it in. Now, can I get a minute alone with her, or not? I swear, once I've said my piece, I'm leaving Kirkwall. She'll be back on the market for any blighter who can handle her."

Anders stood up and met Isabela's eyes. "Good. You never deserved her. You've brought her nothing but pain." With one last withering look, Anders left the room.