Shattering like glass, the frozen gate broke into tiny slivers of ice and splinter as it exploded inwards.
Taking a deep breath, hands gripping each other tighter behind his back, Garrett prayed his people would understand the need for staying quiet and still.
Fortunately, they did, and even more fortunately he wasn't greeted by a hail of missiles coming through the fog of ice-crystals and dust slowly settling before him.
There was only stillness, and a low whimpering, greeting him.
"Arishok?" Garrett, taking another deep breath, took a step forward, onto the threshold to the throne room. Then another, entering, keeping his face as calm as possible as he watched the room slowly become revealed to him.
The throne room was largely unchanged, the Viscount's banners still hung at the back, beautiful pillars still held up a high ceiling and allowed the room to remain open and spacious for the dignitaries that used to fill it. The throne at the far end was still massive and imposing, no matter who sat on it.
Yet none were sitting on the throne, and where once advisors to the Viscount had stood, ready to share their wisdom, elves with stringed bows glared at Garrett. Closer to the door, to the right of it, where dignitaries had once stood, nobles were lined up, on their knees, hands tied behind their backs and heads lowered as Kossith warriors stood over them. Their blades held high for a killing blow, eyes on Garrett, daring him to take another step.
Garrett stopped.
"Hawke." The Arishok stood a few feet away from the throne, his weapons leaning against it. At the feet of the throne, a black-garbed corpse lay, in the Arishok's hand, the head of the Viscount was held. The look of horror on the dead lord's face frozen in place as the Qunari leader raised his hand. "Your leader is dead." The Arishok casually threw the head before Garrett's feet, causing a string of horrified gasps from the nobles and even a few behind Garrett. "The rest of the 'leadership' of this city is under my control. You will act as their envoy, telling those outside the keep to stop their attack and to bring me the Tome of Koslun."
"I will not." Garrett brushed the head aside with his foot, keeping himself from cringing by focusing his gaze on the Arishok. "I cannot."
The Arishok narrowed his eyes, his men tensed...and then the Qunari spoke, a low growl. "Explain."
"You still don't understand us, do you?" Garrett asked, shaking his head. "That army outside? There's not one single leader of them in here, the majority will not obey any order to stop." Garrett shrugged. "As for the thief...she didn't obey me and bring the tome, why do you think she would start now? You're wasting your time here, and possibly your lives."
Leaving the Qunari to ponder his words, Garrett swept his gaze to the right, over the assembled nobles. Many were humans, but almost a third dwarves, all consisting of families, mothers, husbands and children all huddled close as Qunari blades hovered over them.
Near him, Charles Reinhart was pressing close to his wife Lowyn, the two of them nearly crushing a whimpering Cecei between them. Lowyn was staring at Cecei, as if trying to memorize every detail of the young woman, who in turn was staring at the floor, lips trembling and tears forming a puddle at her knees. Charles though, he was looking at Garrett with wide eyes, the normally so calm and intelligent man looking like a terrified cow at the butcher's, completely out of his element and at the mercy of elements he couldn't control.
His eyes were begging, for survival, for help.
Garrett turned his eyes away, unsure if he could help, if it would be enough.
Instead he caught sight of Guillaume de Launcet. The man was also meeting Garrett's gaze, but his eyes were calm, almost amused, as if he thought the entire thing a joke and that Garrett would at any time reveal it for what it was. His wife, Dulci, was shaking though, so much she looked ready to come apart, the entire left side of her face covered by a massive bruise. Their son, the poor pale boy that had never seemed quite right in the head was lying at the feet of his parents, eyes dim, seemingly catatonic.
Then, the Arishok spoke. "I feared as much, and prepared for that."
Huh? Garrett tore his gaze away from the nobles and stared at the Arishok, whose steady gaze revealed nothing as he spoke. "If negotiations fail, and the negotiations with the threat of war fails, then we will proceed with only war." Garrett frowned in confusion, and then found his eyes widening as the Qunari continued. "This keep has many a turret, mounting many a crude catapult. Even as we speak, more saar-qamek is being prepared below us, we will launch it into the city from the keep, gripping the entire city in madness. Kirkwall will burn." Garrett, blinking, tried to find words to answer the madness even as the Arishok took a step forward, gaze as calm as if he was speaking of the weather. "And once it is over, once the city is depleted of all its people, we will enter it once more and search through it, no stone will remain unturned...until we find the tome."
Madness, utter madness... Clearing his throat, unwilling to say what he really thought of such a brutal plan, Garrett shook his head, tone hesitant. "You'd...do that? You might destroy the tome."
"I will either find it or not, by now it's either lost forever or just within out grasp, it is all or nothing, Hawke." The Arishok rumbled back. "I have accepted that."
"Sh-She could already be gone, left the city."
"And then, as we sift through the rubble, we will confirm that. If the Rivaini is not among the dead, we will continue our hunt."
"It would take months to identify all the dead!" Garrett exploded, still off balance at the thought of such a slaughter.
The Arishok's gaze didn't waver for a second. "We are a patient people, Hawke."
Breathe...
Garrett obeyed, and his heart steadied, his blood warming. "I won't let you do that."
"Yes, I surmised as much." The Arishok grunted, gaze sweeping over those assembled behind Garrett, then his own men. "We are evenly matched here, Hawke, may the Qun be victorious."
Garrett, sensing the tension mounting in the room, violence imminent, spoke fast. "Don't be a fool! Either we win here, or you do, but either way all your Qunari will die. You think you have enough time to prepare the gas and launch it into the city? Meredith and her templars will storm the keep at any moment and put all of you to the sword!" Considering Garrett had recently ordered Aveline to block the templar attack, that wasn't true, but as sweat beaded down his back, Garrett felt willing to risk a lie. "And what then? The tome will be lost to the Qun forever, all who were on its track lost!"
The Arishok, staring into Garrett's wide eyes...grimaced, a slight twitch at the corner of his eyes. "That is...true." Just like that, the tension was lowered to a simmering danger rather than the panic of imminent combat. "But what do you propose? I cannot leave without the tome of Koslun, the Qun forbids it, and until I have it, I will fight for it..."
Bloody hell... Garrett's mouth worked, but no words came. ...I have no answer...damn inflexible Qun. I thought... "You won't find the tome here though, the thief ran..." Yes, that might work. "Kirkwall, however, have many ships, and she no doubt took to the sea, we can-"
"Or you can just give them the book." Someone interrupted, making Garrett whirl around.
You!?
Isabela was marching through the doorway with an uncertain smirk on her face, a thick book of black leather under her left arm. "Got to say, was easy following you through that hidden path of yours when you leave some of your men hanging just outside it."
Garrett, blood boiling, pointed a shaking finger at the woman. "Take the book!" One of his soldiers, noting the stress in Garrett's voice, wrenched the book out of Isabela's arm. "Seize her!" Instantly, two more of Garrett's men stepped forward, grabbing Isabela's arms and wrenching them behind her back, driving her to her knees with a scream of pain.
Garrett, shaking with rage, began to advance on the woman. As he did so, he watched her panicked eyes staring up at him, then looking around for support among their comrades. Varric was glaring back though, one hand touching the injuries she'd caused, even though Anders had already healed them. Anders' gaze was dull and uncaring, Maric was growling, Fenris had an eyebrow cocked in interest, but made no move to help...and Merrill was looking away, ashamed and tearful.
Garret dropping to one knee in front of the woman, grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head straight. "Are you an idiot?!"
Isabela's gaze turned away from his furry. "I must be, I felt so bad I foolishly came back, didn't I-"
Garrett's other hand shot up, grabbing her by the jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I should have you hanged!" Isabela's eyes, wide, stared back at him as he squeezed her jaw tighter, wanting nothing more but to crush it with his bare hands. "And I should tie the noose myself!"
"I...I..." Isabela's lips trembled. "...I'm sorry..."
Disgusting. Scoffing, Garrett violently let go of her and rose to his feet, wanting nothing more but to kick her for good measure. Breathe... Garrett, struggling with his fuming rage, turned away from the Rivaini. Instead he turned to hold the Arishok's gaze as he held out a hand, palm up. "The book." The soldier holding it hesitantly stepped up to his Lord and put the heavy tome into Garrett's hand.
Ahead, the Arishok's gaze, normally so calm, lit up in eagerness, eyes fixed on the book.
Garrett, angry enough to now feel completely calm about the dangerous situation, stepped up to the Arishok. "As a representative of Kirkwall, I hereby return to you your book, Arishok." He bowed his head ever so slightly as he with both hands held out the weighty tome.
Slowly, with a reverence Garrett had never seen in him, the Arishok reached out, gently gripping and retrieving the book. Gently, as if cradling a child, the Qunari next put the book across his forearm and carefully opened it at a random spot, gaze moving across the text...and his shoulders slumped in relief. "This is the Tome of Koslun."
"Good." Garrett growled. All this fighting and death over a bloody book stolen by an idiot, this ends today! "Then we can discuss the terms of the end to hostilities and you leaving this city."
"Not yet." Oh for fuck's sake! The Arishok looked up, at Garrett, then past him. "The thief comes with us." Oh, well considering what you might have in store...
"As you..." Garrett turned, hard eyes on a ghostly pale Isabela...and then caught sight of Merrill. The woman was looking at him, through tears and disappointment with the pirate...yet the look was clear. You got to be kidding. "...no."
Varric's eyes flashed at that, looking at Garrett in confusion and irritation even as nobles all around the chamber gasped in disbelief and renewed fear. Most telling was the Arishok's droll voice though. "No?"
"No." Garrett replied, taking a deep breath as he shot Merrill a frustrated look before turning to face the puzzled-looking Qunari. "She is a citizen of Kirkwall, she is ours to punish. I've defended your right to punish and rule your own people for three years, Arishok, I expect the same courtesy."
"Courtesy!?" The hiss exploding from the Arishok might as well have been a shout, given how unusual it was for him to raise his voice. The Qunari took a step forward, looming over Garrett with smouldering eyes. "She committed a heinous crime against the Qunari, she must be punished!"
"And she will be..." Garrett, still enraged by Isabela and now irritated by Merrill's silent please, calmly glared back as he crossed his arms over his chest. "...but not by you."
"That is unacceptable, I must bring back the thief!" The Arishok was shaking, his body taut as a bowstring, his entire being like that of a bloodhound catching the scent. "You cannot offer me half the way to escape this waste of a city and then deny me the second part! The Qun demands that I return her! Without her, I cannot return!"
"Tough." Garrett growled back, eyes narrowing. "You play by my rules this time, Arishok. You take this compromise, leave with the tome but not the thief."
"You still don't understand us!" The Arishok's voice was rising in tone, his chest heaving with anger. "There are no compromises! No half-measures or maybes! There is only the Qun!" Whirling about, the Arishok took three steps away. "Qunari, ready!" As one, the assembled Kossith raised their weapons, ready to slaughter the screaming nobles and begin the battle.
"If you do this, you will not escape! None of your Qunari will!" Garrett snapped, his rage growing with every passing second. Idiots! Everyone, idiots! "And I will personally burn your tome to ashes!" The Qunari stopped, the Arishok turning around to face him as Garrett steadily met his gaze. "Believe me, I will."
"I believe you." The Arishok growled, taking a step closer, frustration clear in his eyes. "You won't let us leave, nor fight, you're postponing the inevitable. There must be an end."
"Believe me, I'm as frustrated as you." Garrett growled back.
In the Arishok's eyes, he saw that the man very well understood that frustration, even shared it. They were standing six feet away, yet the gulf of cultural differences was endless between them. Garrett could feel the Arishok wanting to compromise, to get at least something...yet the very tome he'd come for forbade it. He also felt his own need, to just bend once more to the will of the Qunari, to make Merrill hate him by getting rid of the pirate. Yet he also felt his anger burning in his veins, refusing another compromise, tired of always being the one giving in, the one finding the solution and letting the other side get what they wanted.
He wanted to hit something.
"Even if battle does not come today, it will come another, the Qunari will return." The Arishok finally grunted, almost sounding...uncertain. "If you burn the book, the fury with which we will descend upon your city will know no bounds."
You're trying to sway me with threats now? Although, my city, I don't want it...wait...
The idea struck him, so strong he blinked and took a step back, making the Arishok cock his head to the side.
"You're saying that even if we manage an end to the fighting today, we'll still be at war?"
"Yes..." The Arishok growled, frowning in confusion. "...I'm compelled by honour and the Qun to cleanse this den of filth from the world, to bring the word of the Qun further."
"Honour? Funny, coming from someone leading a surprise attack on those who've fed and housed you for three years." Garrett couldn't help but snap out the words, though the Arishok simply scoffed back, unimpressed. "That said...if you truly have honour, then I'll give you a chance to gain both your war and your thief." And me a chance at escaping blame from Merrill and to keep my city intact.
"What are you saying?" The Arishok was scowling at him now, interested but confused.
"I challenge you to a duel."
Among the nobles, someone guffawed at the notion while another whimpered in fright. Behind him, Merrill gasped in horror even as Anders muttered something sardonic under his breath.
The Arishok though, eyed Garrett with a curious look on his face, tone hesitant. "What...terms?"
"Whoever wins, this battle is at an end and your Qunari are free to leave the city via the north gate with the tome, no more killing will occur." Garrett steadily replied. This'll be fine, Bastile has taught me well...the Arishok is bloody big though... "If I win, you leave with the tome but without the thief and there will be no further war between Kirkwall and the Qunari." The Arishok, now obviously interested, took another step forward. "If you win, the thief goes with you along with the tome, and we will consider ourselves at war."
For a moment, the Arishok simply stared at him. Then, he opened the Tome of Koslun once more, head slowly turning to look into the page he'd opened it. Though seemingly opened at random, the Arishok read the book with intense eyes...and then found his shoulders slumping in relief once more. "It is...allowed, I accept."
"Good, then we can-"
"To the death."
Garrett blinked, a chill running down his spine. "Huh? No, why would we do that? Surely a duel to first blood or even submission will settle the matter just as well as honour is satisfied and-"
The Arishok's steps were fast and angry, the giant stopping just short of barging into Garrett, glaring down at him with eyes glowing with intensity. "Do not toy with me further, Hawke!" The Arishok's face was twisted into a mask of rage, of need. "I cannot return without the thief! I will take her back to Par Vollen or I will die trying! There are no other options! It is the will of the Qun and you will not deny me upholding my duty to it!" At a horrifying moment, the image of the Saarebas he'd once worked to rescue, burning itself to cinders, played before Garrett's vision. "Do not doubt my dedication to the Qun! Do not insult me!" Garrett took a step back, making the Arishok narrow his eyes. "This is how it must be, or you'll leave me no other choice..." He raised his fist...and the other Qunari in the room raised their blades for the killing blow against the trembling hostages.
Garrett, standing as still as a statue, stared at the Arishok's hard eyes, the eyes demanding his agreement. I offered the way, and now he's set on it... Then to the nobles, all staring at him in horror or up at their executioners, holding one another. If they die... Behind him, he could feel the others staring at him, a storm of different emotions and wants lashing at him, threatening to tear him apart. Shit. "Fenris."
"Yes, Hawke?" The elf replied, sounding curious about having been picked out.
Without taking his eyes off the Arishok, Garrett spoke. "The Arishok will send one of his men with you, you two will declare a stop to hostilities and the terms of our agreement." Before him, the Arishok nodded, making one of the other Qunari leave his group and head for the elf. "Make sure Meredith understands that this is the decision of the acting Viscount." She won't like it, but I'm sure the idea of saving some templars from the combat will help.
As one, the elf and Qunari headed out the door.
Leaving Garrett and the Arishok facing one another, all eyes on them as Garrett took a deep breath. "Okay, Arishok, we have an agreement." The words coming out of his mouth felt surreal.
Maker, what did I just agree too?
8
8
8
"This is crazy."
"I'm aware." Garrett muttered back, feeling sweat bead on his forehead as he made sure his gauntlets were secure, then his pauldrons. Maker, why am I so nervous? I've fought before...sure, it's always frightening, but this is another level of it...
Varric, leaning close, hissed the words. "Kirkwall is well-fortified! The Qunari are far away! War with them won't do much!"
"I can't be certain of that, the Qunari act differently than us." Garrett replied, taking a steadying breath as he drew his longsword and handed its belt to a nearby soldier. Encumbered enough already. Should I keep the arming sword in the other belt or would it be too much in the way? No, I need a secondary weapon beyond a dagger. "Shield."
Varric was shaking his head though, leaning close as a soldier aided Garrett in strapping the shield onto his left arm. "She's not worth it...I'd hate to see you die for her!"
"Hey, I'm sitting right here." Isabela muttered, looking up from her kneeling position, arms tightly bound behind her back.
"I'm aware." Varric grunted back, loath in his voice before he turned back to Garrett. "Don't do this!"
"I must, or there'll be hell to pay for us all." Garrett shrugged, feeling his muscles tense and flex under his armour, a tension in them revealing the growing amount of adrenaline in them, wanting to be unleashed. "Don't worry, I'm no slouch in combat, right? And I've only gotten better, I stand a good chance."
"He's really big..." Merrill whimpered, the elf hesitantly stepping closer, seemingly unsure how close she was allowed to come, eyes darting between Garrett and the Arishok standing by the throne. "...like...very...I...I don't want you to do this..."
"Maybe I should sacrifice Isabela then?" Garrett snapped back, shooting his lover an annoyed glare that made her inch back. "No? Didn't think so, I..." He took a breath and felt his anger fade. I might not see her again. The thought hit him like a brick. "...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."
Immediately, Merrill moved closer, worry in her eyes, fear, but also love and trust. "It's okay, I don't want you to do this, but..." She glanced over to the still kneeling nobles, biting her bottom lip. "...but I understand."
"Thank you." Garrett, straightening, turned to eye the Arishok at the other side of the room. Oh right, that's why I'm afraid.
The Arishok's plate armour was of blackened steel, making the already giant Kossith look even larger, enough to put him closer to an ogre than human in size. His curved horns, jutting out from a visored helmet of vertical bars in equally black steel, made him look like a demon from the fade, a monster of flesh, steel and bone. In his right hand he held an axe with a long spike at the tip and hooking blade at the back, while in his left he held a long one-edged sword clearly designed to cleave flesh and steel alike. Both weapons were nearly large enough to be a two-hander for a human, yet the Qunari easily held them with one.
Beyond all that, the eyes looking back at him through the Qunari's visor were steady, calm, focused, not a bit of fear or doubt in them...not a hint of uncertainty at facing the human.
I'm going to die.
"You can take him." Isabela whispered, the woman inching closer. "Just keep moving! He's big and carrying around a lot of weight, make him tire!"
Make that tire? Yeah right... Garrett swallowed, yet surprisingly found his voice steady. "Helmet." The soldier coming up knelt as he handed over the piece of armour, head held low even as he backed off, a reverent hush in his steps. Garrett, barely noticing the man, looked at the pale blue piece of silverite shining in the light. Pretty, never noticed that before.
"Emma lath..." Merrill was suddenly close, in front of him, looking up at him, eyes full of tears. "I...I..." She looked down at his chest, shaking her head with a sniffle, unable to find the words.
Garrett only hesitated for a moment. He reached down, finding Merrill's chin and lifting her face to look up at him.
Slowly, tenderly, he kissed her.
He didn't want to let go.
He wanted to stay there, forever.
Savouring her.
Yet, all too soon, he found himself letting her go, guiding her aside.
He felt hundreds of eyes on him, wide with wonder and fear.
But all he saw was the Arishok as he raised the helmet and put it over his head, his movements mechanical as he secured it to the rest of his armour.
Behind him, Varric shuffled in worry, though his words were encouraging. "Just remember, the bigger they are..."
"The harder they'll hit me, I know." Garrett grunted, not in the mood for jokes even as his reply triggered a few nervous chuckles among his soldiers.
A last look to Merrill, at her staring at him in fright...beautiful...and Garrett lowered the visor to his helmet and turned to face the Arishok.
He took a step forward, banging his sword against his shield twice.
The Arishok, having so far patiently waited for him, mimicked the action, his two weapons clashing together twice in succession.
And then, they moved towards one another.
They both stopped six feet from one another. The Arishok raised his axe high behind his head while his sword moved to point directly at Garrett like a spear. Opposite him, Garrett held his blade horizontally, level with his eye, resting the point at the rim of his raised shield as he lowered himself into a fighting crouch, presenting as small a target as possible.
Slowly, they circled one another, measuring each other up.
His armour is heavier, but weaker, his weapons also. He's stronger though, making the weight a non-issue. He's bigger, longer reach...Maker, he's big... Glad for his visor, Garrett nervously licked his lips, nothing but the Arishok filling his vision as he heard whimpers and whispers filling the room. How did it come to this?
There was no roar, no grunt, nothing to announce his attack, yet suddenly the Arishok's sword lunged with a feint, the blade filling Garrett's vision, blinding him to the silent axe coming down at him.
Garrett took half a step forward, brushing aside the sword as he raised his shield to block what he knew would come, ready for a return thrust at the Kossith's face.
Yet his riposte never came.
Instead, the room filled with gasps as Garrett staggered back, jolts of pain running down his left arm. Maker! Even turning the shield to deflect, rather than outright block the blow from the axe, it had come down with unnatural force. He hits like a sledgehammer!
The Arishok, lowering his weapons, cocked his head to the side at the sight of the staggering human. Perhaps pondering whether the stagger was a trick or a feint.
Don't let them see you're weak, don't let them see you fearful, attack! Bastile's voice, as real as if he was actually there, spoke in Garrett's mind, and he obeyed.
Gritting his teeth, Garrett darted forward, shield raised high in front of his sword, the blade darting out like a lightning bolt, the tip grazing the Arishok's plate-covered thigh and making the Qunari take a step back. Garrett pressed after, shield bashing aside a riposting sword before coming high again, shielding his sword...and then darting low as the Arishok moved to parry the blow that should have come at his legs, only to dart up towards his face.
Grunting, the Arishok pulled his head back from the thrust...and suddenly the hook of his axe was gripping into the rim of Garrett's shield, pulling.
Pulled off balance, Garrett twisted with the pull, spinning clockwise into the Arishok's left flank and ducking just underneath the Qunari's swinging blade as his own drew a silvery scratch along the Arishok's breastplate. Attack! Attack! Attack! Garrett moved to obey...only to be forced to throw his shield up as the Qunari whirled at him, axe smashing into Garrett's shield even as the Qunari brought his sword up for a backhanded swing over Garrett's now pinned shield.
Garrett's longsword darted up, parrying the blow of his foe even as the impact sent jolts of pain down his right arm. The Arishok, grunting back, stepped closer, not allowing Garrett to disengage from his awkward double defence on his left side, pressing down on him. Shit, shit, I mustn't... Garrett pressed back with a groan, while the Qunari was stronger, Garrett's lower height gave him leverage to push, leading to an equal struggle. He can't...I must twist and make him the one to stumble or...
The Arishok's breath was warm, and close, the Qunari growling at him. "I will make it quick."
Behind his visor, Garrett's eyes flashed with anger. You think you can just-
Pain!
Garrett's left leg went nearly numb as agony laced through him, centred on the left side of his knee where the Arishok's foot had stomped down. Unable to stand on the leg, Garrett dropped down on his left knee, gasping, white lights dancing before his eyes.
"Watch out!"
Garrett didn't look, didn't try to turn, the stranger's shout making him act. Pushing off with his right leg, Garrett sent himself flying to the left, the ground behind him exploding into dust as the Arishok's axe smashed the floor the human had stood on a moment before. Garrett, rolling with the impact of him hitting the floor, got up into a low guard, wincing as he struggled to straighten, his left leg thumping with each beat of his heart.
Before him, the Arishok was already advancing, his gaze firm, unflinching, unafraid.
Desperate, Garrett lunged, sword aimed for the Arishok's left armpit. Only for the Qunari's axe to swing from high to low, parrying the blow and forcing Garrett's sword to his left even as the Arishok's sword came swinging from the righ-
Pain!
Garrett staggered and spun, his whole world seemingly turning on its axis as he felt warm blood trickle down his cheek and neck. Shaking his head, the ringing of his ears mixing with the whimpers and cries of those around him, he felt the dented silverite of his helmet press into his right cheekbone. Maker, I don't...by Andraste! The Arishok filled his vision, attacking before Garrett had even gotten his bearings back.
Instinctively, Garrett ducked and thrust out.
Before him, the Arishok froze with a grunt as his swing arced over Garrett's head and the human's longsword somehow darted in under the underside of the Qunari's breastplate, drawing a trickle of blood.
A cheer.
And then the Arishok's right foot kicked out, slamming into Garrett's shield, which in turn slammed into Garrett and sent the human flying backwards, clutching his sword as he crashed onto his back, rolled and staggered onto his feet.
Ahead, the Arishok was once more advancing, chasing the human down, wanting to crush him.
Always bloody confident, aren't you? Garrett snarled underneath his helmet, and moved to meet the Qunari. Again, the axe came swinging, ready to batter Garrett's shield once more, to batter the one beneath it.
Instead, Garrett lowered the shield, took a quick step to the left and let his longsword swipe in a clockwise movement, joining the Arishok's axe and pushing it to the right even as the human darted forward, his lowered shield shooting up with all the strength he could muster.
With a crunch, the rim of the shield smashed into the bars of the Arishok's visor, bending several and breaking one with a spurt of blood as the end tore into the Kossith's jaw.
A growl, and the Arishok staggered back, right hand moving up, tearing at the helmet now worrying a piece of itself into the man's face...and as he ripped it off, more blood followed, spurting over the Arishok's breastplate as the broken bar ripped a cut up along the left side of the Kossith's face.
How confident are you now!? Garrett charged in. Twisting, he moved his shield to the left, blocking a blind thrust by the Qunari while smashing into his foe's chest, driving him back a step as his longsword barely missed his rival's exposed face. The now weapon-less right hand of his foe deflected the blow just in time even as the human drove the Qunari further back and away from his axe. How much is that honour worth now!? Spinning clockwise and to the Arishok's right side, Garrett brought the pommel of his longsword into his foes' side with a crunch, denting the metal. We could have talked it out!
With a growl, Garrett brought the pommel in once more, intent on making a hole..only to strike nothing but air as the Arishok launched himself forward, the giant rolling with surprising grace away from Garrett, right hand retrieving his lost axe mid-roll. Chest heaving with breaths, yet eyes still calm, yet wary.
Somewhere behind Garrett, someone whistled, impressed by the feat. Great, fucking idiot...
With a growl, Garrett crossed the distance, sword darting low, then high, then high again, swinging from the left, right, below, then above.
Before him, the Arishok parried, his own blows coming from on high, axe, sword, sword, axe, axe, sword, right, left, right, left.
Armour denting, cracking, the flesh underneath bruising as blow upon blow rained down on the combatants, the air around them parting before the furious exchange of blows.
Just die already!
Garrett barely saw the sword when it came from low, barely felt the blow when it struck the inside of his left arm. But he saw the straps holding his shield in place snap, saw his numb hand let go of the grip at the side...and saw the defence flying away.
Someone cried out...and then the Arishok's axe swung at Garrett's exposed side. No! Garrett threw himself forward, into the Arishok, making only the hilt of his axe strike him...and then stars danced before his eyes as the pommel to the Arishok's sword smashed into the back of his helmet and skull.
He staggered, looked up, and saw the Qunari's sword descend.
Pain!
Fresh air, cold and crisp against his feverish skin, washed over his face as a broken helmet rolled before his blurring vision. Blood, scalding warm against him, ran down the right side his jaw and his neck, the dented metal there having torn a long ridge along his flesh all the way to his scalp as it came off. That...hurt...I... He staggered, blinked, turning his swimming gaze to the Arishok-
Garrett fell onto his back, limbs unresponsive. Above, the Arishok raised his axe...
Fight, damn it!
...and then staggered back as the human's revitalized leg kicked out, smashing a foot into the Qunari's crotch and sending him reeling back.
Get up.
Garrett struggled, but got onto his right knee, left side facing the Arishok as the Qunari glared back at him, the both of them gasping for air.
Garrett's eyes flickered to the shield, close, yet too far away, and the Arishok's gaze followed, knowing. I need...I...shit... Desperate, Garrett shifted the grip on his longsword, behind his back, his fingers gripping around the cross-guard, palm pressing against the flat of the blade.
With a groan, Garrett launched himself towards the shield, his body twisting mid-step, blindly hurling the sword like a javelin at his foe.
A crunch and a grunt...and Garrett was by the shield, his left hand finding the unharmed central grip, his right hand finding his arming sword at his hip, drawing it even as he straightened and brought his gaze back to the Arishok.
The longsword lay at the Qunari's feet, the Arishok himself having taken a step backwards, a visible dent in his already battered breastplate where Garrett's longsword had struck him like the improvised missile it had turned into.
The two combatants stared at one another, both wounded, both tired...both exhausted.
Growling something in his native tongue, the Arishok advanced, sword swinging first, then axe, arms wailing, raining blows after Garrett onto his shield that now blocked every blow with growing slowness as the arm tired. Before him, the Arishok's eyes lit up in something akin to desperation, the giant's strikes becoming more sluggish, more predictable.
Just give me a moment of respite, a single opening, and-
A crack, and Garrett saw his shield split in two, the hilt to the axe buried in it snapping at the same time, weapon and shield breaking apart and dropping to the floor with a clatter.
The Arishok thrust at Garrett's face, only to have the blow parried aside as Garrett stepped closer, ducking low with his left fist swinging.
A grunt, and the Arishok's right leg gave up, dropping him onto his knee as Garrett's fist moved away from the joint, only to smash back into the Arishok's face, sending blood spraying across the marble floor. The Arishok grunted, driving his sword upwards, trying to get past Garrett's parry, but the human twisted, forcing the thrust to stay away as his fist once more struck his foe's face, plate fist ripping skin and bruising flesh.
Then the Arishok grabbed Garrett's head.
Gasping, Garrett tried to twist away, only for the grip to tighten, the nails of the Qunari like talons, digging into Garrett's flesh, making pain like needles dance across his face even as his eyes widened in fear. I can't see! I need that hand off so I can-
A crunch echoed through the suddenly silent hall.
Then someone whimpered.
Another let lose a gasp.
A third, cried.
Garrett, blinking, found the Arishok letting go of his face, the tired-looking Qunari having a look of relief on his face as he closed his eyes, his voice a low murmur. "It's over..."
Looking down, Garrett found the Arishok's blade having punched through the outer end of his breastplate, and as he drew a rasping breath, he found blood gushing along the Qunari's blade. I...I... Garrett blinked, then shook his head. ...must... "Not..." His sword was suddenly heavier than anything in the world, yet he raised it, placing the edge against the Arishok's neck, making the Qunari's eyes flicker open in shock. "...yet." Garrett pulled the blade, slicing, cutting, killing.
Someone screamed as the blood spurted from the artery in the Arishok's neck, the man himself only coughed, hand letting go of his sword to reach up towards the killing wound.
He never reached it, instead he fell backwards, lips moving silently as life quickly left him, pooling around him in rapid spurts.
Garrett crashed onto his knees, hand letting go of his own sword. "Now, it's over..." The words rattled out of him, making his head swim as he watched his own blood pour down his body, mixing with the Arishok's. He reached up, clutching at the blade stuck in his chest. "It's over!" Blood, gushed, making his mind spin. "It's o...ov..."
Darkness.
Then light.
"Easy there, drama queen." Ander's voice was calm, yet firm, the glowing hands on Garrett's body holding him upright. On Garrett's left side, a whimpering Merrill was holding him, hands sliding across his stricken body in panic as an equally whimpering Maric came to sit in front of Garrett, staring at him with frightened eyes. "Stay still, this might hurt a bit..." Anders muttered, the mage gripping the blade stuck in Garrett. No...
"Look at me." Merrill's whisper was like a caress, her glowing hands bringing Garrett's head around, making him meet her gaze, making him kiss her.
Then, there was pain.
Garrett gasped.
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for her musical mind.