Chapter thirty one- The Primeval Thaig
Sorry for my chapters being so short! But I've split the Deep Roads into different viewpoints just to create a bit more character insight.
Huge thanks to you guys, who followed/favourite/review my work! And the guys that just read it! You guys are great!
Thank you to LostSpace for her help with this chapter and a thankyou to Enchantm3nt as always.
X
Hawke had grown accustomed to the tune of lyrium, it was one of the parts of her magic she could not pretend did not exist, and down here it sung all around her. She had heard it dance in the sinews and veins of templars and mages alike, listened as it bubbled in glass vials and even heard it in Fenris. The lyrium drummed in time with his heartbeat, crashing alongside the blood in his veins.
But the lyrium she could hear now was wrong; it beckoned her to touch it, for her to feel its song. She tried to ignore it, but the deeper they tunnelled the louder it sang.
She looked at Anders from the corner of her eye. The former Grey Warden was on tenterhooks, small beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and the corners of his eyes were crinkled as he tried to concentrate. She regretted bringing him down here. Being a mage was bad enough, as the lyrium song buzzed in her brain, but she could not imagine the hell Anders was going through with the singing and the taint combined. She prayed that Justice was at least keeping him strong.
The tunnels leading to the Thaig were decrepit; rocks and rotting corpses scattered casually like flowers in a garden. It was just like any other great legacy that has walked this world. It unnerved her that there was a lack of darkspawn, it felt like they had killed a horde just to get to this point; it put her on edge that whatever they were walking towards scared the fuck out of the most tainted creatures in Thedas.
She cast a nervous glance at her brother, who seemed cheerful but silent. She knew Carver was missing Merrill and Mother and civilisation and fresh air. She had to agree on the latter. It felt like decades ago that she had been walking around Kirkwall alongside Spike with the sun blazing down on them. She worried about the danger she had put her little brother in, and if she could she would shove him in a box and tell him to come out when it was safe. She had made her promise to him though, and he was his own man now, but it didn't stop her from almost soiling her drawers every time an enemy got too close.
Varric was also unusually silent, looking at the destroyed Thaig with bored eyes. He seemed unlike his brother, who appreciated the work of the ancient dwarves, and Hawke really couldn't blame him. As much as she was curious about the dwarves and their legacies, she would much rather stumble on a mountain of gold and get out of this place three weeks early.
Fenris made a snort into the darkness that attracted her attention but he seemed lost in his own soliloquy of thoughts. Despite how much she wanted to ask Fenris about what exactly he thought was going on between them, Fenris seemed like the type who was better off on his own to ponder things. It was madness, the whole whatever it was between them.
"DARKSPAWN!" Anders cried, lifting his staff up at the enemy's general direction and snapping Hawke out of her thoughts which she was, for once, grateful for.
She flung her daggers into the fight, rolling herself into the fray with great ease. The fight had become a game to her. The darkspawn were mindless, but what they lacked in tactics they made up for in brute strength. She divided her attention between the two warriors, slashing at opponents when the opportunity arose. Fenris snarled as he hacked his sword into a hurlock's chest, his tanned skin shining blue and reflecting off the silver of Carver's greatsword. Carver, like Fenris, was slicing away the darkspawn with a feigned ease. She almost rolled her eyes at the sight of her brother and Fenris silently competing with each other.
She noted the contrasts in the two warriors. Although they both fought with greatswords the differences in their stances spoke volumes about them. Where Carver's technique was skilled with the precision that came with being a soldier at Ostagar, Fenris' prowess was somehow majestic. His stance was controlled and perfected, and she wondered how long and how much he had to endure for it to be this way. Just the thought made vomit rise to her throat.
The last enemy fell to the ground and Fenris shot her a blood soaked smile, red staining his white hair. She looked up at her own hair, fingered the red streak in her fringe and threw him a smug grin in return. They stood there for a moment grinning at each other, almost euphorically, until they were snapped out of their daze by Varric's loud humming. She rolled her eyes at the dwarf who held a wicked grin on his face as stared at her.
"Problem my dear dwarf?" she asked, viewing him with a look of mock indifference. She knew that he wouldn't let her live this down anytime soon.
"Nothing, nothing at all Hawke," Varric said, his smile sweeter than normal.
"I see, just humming whatever the fuck's going to eat us beyond this tunnel to sleep then?" she suggested, her grin roguish as she started her usual banter with her favourite dwarf. It was one of the great things about Varric; he could diffuse the tension quicker than Isabela could remove her knickers…
And Isabela didn't wear knickers.
They advanced through more tunnels and were greeted by a darkspawn ogre frozen on the spot, ice cementing its body as still as a statue at the main entrance of the Primeval Thaig. In front of it stood a small dwarven boy, picking his nose idly as he viewed Hawke with an easy grin. What shocked Hawke most was that there was lyrium thrumming like fireworks in the boy.
"Is he a- ?" Anders began, but seemed to lose his words just by looking at Sandal.
"Holy shit," Varric said under his breath.
"Maker's fucking balls! Sandal, right? I have to admit I'm curious to know how you did that." Hawke asked, peering down at the smiling boy who seemed unphased by whatever had transpired.
"Not enchantment," he said in a low whisper, causing Hawke to let out a low chuckle.
"Right, Varric you can take Sandal back to his father and tell that fucking arse of a brother of yours that we've found a way in. Don't fucking look at me like that dwarf, I'd rather you stick Bianca up my behind and shoot right now than have to speak to your brother," she said, trying to stifle a yawn.
She didn't know how long it would be before she collapsed on the floor due to exhaustion, but even when she tried to sleep the nightmares that she thought were long gone floated into her mind. Sometimes new ones would replace them, but they would always end the same. She would wake in a hot sweat, looking around at her sleeping companions before rolling over and pretending she was asleep.
Varric mock saluted her and, with a nod, left with Sandal. At the sight of him leaving, she let out a huge sigh and slumped to the floor without a second's thought. She'd been keeping most of her morale up for Varric, who seemed to hate the Deep Roads more than Anders.
She huffed at the present situation as her brother joined her on the ancient floor of the Deep Roads; whilst they sat in silence for a moment she watched as Anders and Fenris eyed each other with narrowed eyes, disgust painted on both of their faces as if they were mirroring one another. Hawke prayed they wouldn't argue yet. She didn't have the energy to stop them even if she tried. It was ironic when she looked at it, that both of these men fought for some form of freedom yet despised each other so deeply.
"How are you doing, Az?" Carver asked, scanning her face with worried eyes. She turned to look at her brother and was relieved to see he was faring well. Dirt was smudged on his youthful face, but apart from the odd cut he was fine. She thanked whatever the fuck was up there for that at least.
"I'm fine brother dear, don't you worry about me. But I think we should worry about this place, even I can feel there's warped magic here. There's something wrong," she said, casting her eyes to the shadows, searching for the source of the distant thrum of warped lyrium.
"I can feel something, but I don't know what. It's like a vibrating on the ground. Maybe we're just all tired and its paranoia and fatigue getting to us? Maker, please let it be that," Carver sighed, throwing one of the rocks that had strayed far from the debris of the ruined Thaig.
"I wish, we know for a fact it's going to be a dragon and a horde of darkspawn or maybe it's whatever makes the darkspawn? Maybe we're going to meet their parents and then we're going to be the appetisers for the Archdemon or whatever those fuckers come from," she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Yet, she still knew the chances of it actually happening were more than likely. Speaking from past experiences, they were very likely; the last time they had to engage darkspawn in battle outside of the Deep Roads they had met a dragon...
"Maker's breath Az, any positive outcomes for once?" Carver asked.
She started to think of a reply but was cut short by Anders' worried whisper, "Can you hear it? The lyrium… it's wrong. It feels like it's sick or infected. And it's coming from that bloody Thaig," he said as he looked beyond into the grand hallways of the Thaig.
"Ever encountered such a thing when you were a Grey Warden?" Carver asked, eyeing Anders and where he was staring with a worried expression.
"No," Anders replied.
She heard the caravans before she saw them, and found herself shaking her head at the sight of only two of the caravans joining them deeper in the Thaig. This meant that most of their supplies would be at the main camp; this also meant that they would have limited food and other vital supplies. She rolled her eyes at the idiocy of dwarves, but greeted Varric and his brother with a smile on her face.
….
She could still hear the thrumming, even when she sat down to finally eat. Her stomach gurgled with appreciation, but she still worried for her brother. She watched him as he ate his meal, chuckling at whatever Varric was whispering to him. Her head tilted in curiosity, but before she could ask the two what they were whispering about Anders joined her by the fire, eyeing up Fenris who was sharpening his blade by one of the bedrolls they had laid down for comfort rather than sleep.
"If your life depended on it, would you use it?" Anders asked, staring at her intensely, the curiosity burning in his face. She knew what it was without even having to ask. Anders frequently asked her about her use –or rather lack of use- of magic.
"I suppose I would, why?" she asked, trying not to roll her eyes in irritation, though she knew he meant well. It was becoming the only thing Anders would speak about, the plight of the mages.
"I wondered that's all. I just don't want you to let yourself die because of your own beliefs," he replied. And for a moment she thought she could see the hot blue of Justice burning in Anders' eyes.
"I would say the same for you," she said coolly, brushing a strand of her fringe to the back of her ear. She wanted to point out the hypocrisy that was Anders and Justice combined, but she did not have the stamina to keep up with what would be a very heated debate.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the thrum of lyrium and sour screech of Fenris sharpening his blade. It was nice for a moment, but she was soon crashed back into the reality that was the Deep Roads by Varric speaking with his brother, offering that they once again scout ahead. She was tired, tired of the Deep Roads, and the darkspawn and most of all of fucking Bartrand. She took a deep breath and remembered the riches and rewards that were yet to come.
She walked up to her supplies and found herself surprised when she saw that her belt was full to the brim with supplies. Her eyebrows almost hit the roof when she noticed that someone had sharpened her daggers, which she had been meaning to do for a few days now. She looked around at her companions, who were all preparing themselves for more tunnels and darkspawn, wondering who it could have possibly been. It couldn't have been Carver; he was with her ninety percent of the time. Varric had been pacifying his brother (something which he had been doing most of the journey here). She peered over at Anders for a moment, and almost felt bad for her icy words earlier when he spoke of her magic, and then realised he didn't have the skills to sharpen her daggers so adeptly.
And then she realised, it was obvious all along.
She glanced over at Fenris, who was putting his own blade on his back. He stared at her for a moment, his deep green eyes almost glowing in the half darkness of the Deep Roads. She looked at him and then to her daggers as if asking the question telepathically and he nodded his confirmation.
She wrinkled her nose at the butterflies in her stomach; it was not every day that someone watched her back like that. Even Carver hadn't thought about her daggers and he watched her just as much as she watched him. It made her wonder about how Fenris felt about her, to go as far as to sharpen her weapons. She wished they weren't in the blighted Deep Roads, she wished they were back in his mansion with brandy and wine and whatever the fuck else they drank that night.
Emotions, they were too complicated. They reminded her of an adrenaline rush, she seemed to enjoy them and rejoice in the euphoria of the moment but when they died down she had as much courage as a sewer rat.
One day she would get her riches and rewards and she would have to repay him somehow…
A/N- I am so sorry for dragging this out! Love you guys so much and your support! You're awesome! I promise when they do start to romance, it will be fluffy… Until it all goes downhill again… Poor Hawke/Fenris!