Chapter 32-
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Red veins spiralled along the ancient thaig, decorating its decrepit walls. It reminded Hawke of moss, infecting whatever space it could with no one to stop it for at least a millennia. The thrumming inside her mind grew stronger as they journeyed deeper, and she prayed to the Maker that for all that they had been through these past few weeks they would conclude this expedition with a tower of gold bigger than the chantry back in Kirkwall.
She almost laughed at herself, but bit her tongue in restraint. Of course, it was just so cliché of her to hear a formidable sound and, instead of walking away from it, she decided to skip along, and even drag her younger brother, towards it. She glanced over at Carver and realised that, annoyingly once again, her Mother was right and Carver shouldn't have come down here. He would have been safer back there with Merrill and Mother. Then again, maybe he would have rather faced the darkspawn then their mother's distaste of his choice of lover. She wondered what her mother would say if she ever brought a lover back? Her mother would probably die in shock that she had allowed another being into her life that wasn't related to her.
They travelled onwards in silence. Hawke didn't know whether it was from the fear of attack or just because no one had anything to say to one another. The weeks had been trying for their group, which was to say the least. Constantly having to tiptoe around Bartrand as if he were a sleeping dragon, mediate between Fenris and Anders, who were always on the verge of fighting one another, and attempt not to die or become a victim to the taint that lived down here as a free as a Dalish elf in a forest on a summer's day.
She viewed her companions, who walked behind her almost dutifully, and almost cringed at their exhausted eyes. It was by her request that they were down here and all of sudden she felt somewhat guilty about that fact.
"Hey, just thought of something really positive about this business venture, Varric," she whispered as she strode over the bigger boulders and debris with feigned ease.
"And what's that, Hawke?" Varric replied, having to climb up the boulders rather than just step over them like she had done. Maker blessed she wasn't a dwarf…
"We could always renovate this into a lovely holiday getaway for the mentally deranged or ultimately evil," she cajoled, trying not to look at Varric struggling over the boulders. On a normal day, she would have laughed at the sight of him, but given the circumstances she only allowed a snicker to escape.
"Ha-ha, really funny, Hawke. You should be glad I'm such a good writer because half of the shit you say just makes you seem like a really sarcastic ass ninety percent of the time, kid," Varric said as he scuttled past her to start his work on the door. Varric was ten times better than Hawke at lock picking and had the patience for it, which Hawke certainly did not.
"Varric, how condescending of you! Calling me kid… it's quite ironic that you would be looking down on me, since, well, you know… the whole being, like what? Three foot tall?" she replied, the corner of her lips tugging upwards into a smirk. Anders grinned with amusement as he walked towards her. Carver followed behind him, shaking his head at her and Varric's banter, as he always did.
"Sister, one of these days you're going to suffer for that sarcastic tongue of yours," Carver said, his smile the perfect oxymoron to his words.
"But until then sweetheart, carry on as you are! Never have I known a woman to argue with a dwarf about his height in the middle of the Deep Roads, actually I take that back..." Anders said, drifting off into his own thoughts.
"Shit," Varric replied from a few yards away.
"Finally broke a lock pick, have you?" Hawke called over from around the corner. She started to ready herself for whatever fight they were about to face beyond the door whilst they had nothing else to do but wait. A locked door was never an omen of good things after all, and she would rather be prepared and live than to not be prepared and die in a puddle of her own blood.
"Hawke, you might wanna come here. Shit," Varric whispered, making Hawke's hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. Varric was never serious, and if he was, then it would have to be on a pretty fucking bad day. She turned around the corner and walked towards the doorway. The door had been cracked open a small amount by Varric, who had his head stuck in the crack viewing whatever lay ahead. Her stomach dropped in anticipation, and she prayed to the Maker that Varric's exclamation was because of the shock of stumbling across a mountain of gold. She didn't want to think of what else it could be…
She moved to the crack of the door and her stomach dropped to her ankles. There, sleeping in the middle of a grand hall, lay a dragon the size of a mansion accompanied with an entourage of baby dragons, which didn't even their odds one bit. She tried not to gasp in shock, but slowly tiptoed around the corner and beckoned her other companions towards the door where Varric stood, completely still and silent, which was a rare event for Varric.
For a moment, they all just stared at the dragon as if they were all hallucinating. It was Anders who finally spoke, breaking the silence with a very hushed whisper.
"Anyone got any ideas how a dragon got stuck down here?" he asked, looking around for confirmation that they could all actually see what he could.
"Let's not think about why, and let's discuss how in the name of Andraste's pantaloons we're going to either get past that beast or destroy it," Hawke replied, still in awe of the beast in front of her.
"Dwarves were said to guard their homes as if they were shrines to the Paragons themselves. Is it not apparent that the dragon may be here to guard something?" Carver added, scrunching his face up in annoyance as he took in Anders' expression.
"Yes, well, I don't like my chances against this particular enemy, Hawke," Anders said, eyeing up the snoring dragon.
"You do not like your chances against any enemy, abomination. Hawke, why must you align yourself with a coward?" Fenris hissed. Hawke chose to roll her eyes in reply.
"Shut up," Varric interjected.
"Thank you Varric. Took the words out of my mouth! Maker's sake you're adults, maybe it's time to put our differences aside and- wait, the snoring-it's-" she swivelled her head around and looked through the crack of the door.
"MOVE!" Varric began to shout, but most of the syllables had become inaudible over the screech of the awoken dragon. It reared its head in annoyance and breathed fire towards the door with precise aim. Hawke ran around the corner with the rest of her party right behind her, struggling for breath. As she leant against the wall, she attempted to get a better view of the dragon and the exact location of its children.
"So, any more bright ideas, Hawke?" Varric asked, hiding behind one of her legs as they leant against the decrepit wall that was their only protection.
"We have run out of choices, it seems, Hawke," Fenris said, his words ringing of truth.
"Ugh, Varric serious and Fenris right; today is not a good day. Anders, fancy hugging Fenris? Just so I can die knowing it was the madness rather than the dragon that did me in in the end," Hawke sniped, flicking her head at the dragon and its kin who were attempting to break down the doorway so they could get through.
"Sister, please tell me you have an idea that will get us out of here unscathed," Carver pleaded. Her heart almost broke at the sight of her younger brother scared. Regret rumbled in her empty stomach as she looked back at the dragon that was waiting for them at the edge of the door. Thank the Maker the dwarves made sustainable walls, because if it weren't for said walls they'd be all fleshy pancakes by now.
The worst kind of pancake.
"Well, I have several ideas. The one that's becoming much more appealing is that we just sound a retreat and maybe see if Bartrand fancies punching the dragon in annoyance… Or we could invite the dragon and her family for tea and bisc-"
"Enough with the fucking tea parties sister! Please, something of substance that won't get us all killed?" Carver snapped, his brows furrowed with the situation and how she was handling it.
"Well, if that's what you want, then I suggest retreating and leaving this place," she replied as calmly as she could, despite the hungry dragon that waited for them in the hall beyond them, occasionally flaring fire towards the doorway every now and then to let them know it was still waiting.
"Nothing? You have nothing?" Carver asked, shocked.
"Look Junior, I think we get the idea of what we can do here! We either run back like little girls with our knickers in a twist to Bartrand and deal with his shit, or we go forward and deal with the dragon!" Varric said, already getting Bianca out in confirmation of his agreement of the latter.
"Riches and rewards… big risks remember?" Hawke added, smiling down at Varric as she unsheathed her daggers.
"That's right partner," Varric answered, his grin as wicked as ever.
"Hawke, you cannot possibly think that you stand a sufficient chance against that beast?" Fenris questioned her with a tone of incredulousness.
"For once I agree with him," Anders added, looking at Hawke with bewildered eyes.
"Oh boys, you seem to have overlooked one big factor in this plan," Hawke said, her grin widening at the sight of Fenris, Carver and Anders pulling the same confused face in unison.
"I'm mad," she said, and with a grin she advanced towards the doorway, Varric already on her heels. As she approached the doorway she heard the unsheathing of metal, and the tired sigh of Anders as the rest of her party advanced with her.
At the sight of its prey charging towards them, the dragon reared its head upwards, flicking its tail back and forth with intended menace. It stomped towards them with obvious intent and a wave of dragonlings following suit.
Hawke found herself suppressing the urge to laugh. The Maker had a sense of humour, at least. Here she was, about to face a dragon accompanied by a dwarf that hates the Deep Roads, an escaped elven slave, her sibling who loves an elven blood mage and an apostate Grey Warden that is the vessel for a spirit. She doubted even Varric could make this up.
She threw her smoke bomb and dove into the darkness that Anders' wisps could not reach, running along the side-lines waiting for her chance. She heard the distinct war cry of Fenris, and soon heard the clang of Fenris and Carver's greatswords as they advanced. She stood by Varric and Anders, helping them clear out the majority of dragonlings with the help of her trusty grenades and throwing knives. It was almost a hunt, and the dragonlings, which were not as fierce as their mother, dropped to the floor with the flick of a knife.
Hawke laughed as the adrenaline hit her, but her amusement did not last long. She saw her brother's stamina running low and panic hit her like ice cold water. She didn't know what to do. Her skills were not of a warrior but of stealth and daggers. Not much of a match for the bulky scaled beast that thrashed before her.
She looked in her belt and launched a grenade at the dragon, but it bounced off its scales and fell on the floor, unnoticed. She ran towards it in the hope to drag its attention away from the two warriors that were being backed into the corner. Sheer panic ran through her veins as she turned to ask Varric and Anders for aid, but found they were still dealing with the never ending onslaught of dragonlings.
"OI, YOU!" Hawke screamed, in a desperate attempt to engage the dragon. It looked over at her with bored eyes and turned back to carry on with its attack. She watched as her brother narrowly dodged its flames and almost vomited at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn't moved.
She looked down at her daggers; they were like needles to the dragon's heavily scaled legs. She didn't know what to do and then she realised. She dropped her daggers and ran towards the beast, summoning all the strength she could from her exhausted body.
She felt the magic buzz in her fingers, waiting to get out as it danced in her wrists. She took a deep breath and let it hum in her fingertips, the current in her palms almost reverberating in excitement as the magic woke inside of her.
Anders would have a fucking field day when he saw this, but she didn't care. She saw her brother and Fenris backed into a corner and it felt like déjà vu. She had to help them both. She couldn't bear losing anyone else.
Hawke forced the magic out of her fingertips and it exploded like the cork from a bottle of champagne. The electricity exploded into the dragon, making its back rigid with the shock that was ripping through its body. She felt her energy sap at the very moment the electricity burnt from her fingers, and the hall started to spin around.
She tried to keep herself standing up in the middle of the fray, but the dragon took its opportunity to attempt to destroy the source of its pain. It charged towards her. Hawke tried to focus her eyes, but the four dragons that spun around in her disoriented vision darted towards her, coming dangerously close. Her vision blurred and she clenched her entire body in anticipation as the dragon roared and its hot breath tickled her face…
Shit, I didn't think about this bit.
"Got your back Hawke!" Varric cried as she leapt into a roll, dodging the dragon's feet that were attempting to stomp on her.
She felt the glow of Anders' magic wash over her and felt the tightness of her stomach loosen in relief. Her vision swam back to her as though her eyesight had never been damaged. The dragon roared at the sight of its dead babies, and continued its attack. Anders summoned ice at its feet, holding it to the ground. It screamed its frustration, belting out a blast of fire straight at Anders, who dodged the blast with only a few feathers singed. She saw her moment whilst it was distracted by her companions, and took the leap. She grabbed her daggers and ran towards the beast with sheer determination the only thing fuelling her exhausted body. She climbed up onto to its back and dodged the spikes as if they were the rooftops of Kirkwall. The dragon didn't seem to even notice she was there, too focussed on trying to burn Anders whilst fighting the two warriors. When she reached the creature's vast neck, she sucked in a deep breath, knowing this would definitely be a hit or miss moment.
Hawke screamed as she forced the daggers down, plunging them into the back of dragon's skull. It roared in pain, bellowing and making the grand hall quake at the sound. The dragon sagged in defeat, its energy sapped from their assault.
As she clung onto the back of the dragon, the first person that came into her view was Fenris, stampeding towards the fallen foe with the ferocity that could be compared to that of a wolf. The blue glow of his markings emitted enough light in the dimly lit room to allow Hawke to see his face, and she felt knots tie in her stomach at the very sight of him. He was wild, wilder than any beast she had witnessed. Fenris plunged his sword into the defeated dragon's neck and it fell down with a huge thud that made the dust separate like a tsunami.
She was silent for a moment, the shock of their victory still processing in her mind. She looked at Fenris and he stared right back, and in his eyes she could see herself. They were both tainted from the past and the things they had witnessed would follow them always.
She snapped out of her thoughts and ran towards Carver; her brother would always be her main concern. She looked him up and down for a moment and he gave her an exasperated grin.
"You're alright, aren't you? Anders, come and check him please?" she asked, but Anders was already right behind her.
"He's fine as far as I can tell; bloody exhausted, but fine," Anders replied, smiling his reassurance to her. Anders calmed her in way that she could only compare to her father.
"Thank the Maker," she sighed.
"Shit, Hawke, you're fucked up in the head, but at least you do it in style," Varric added, wiping Bianca nonchalantly as he walked towards them.
"I think she's the right kind of fucked up, if there is one," Anders added, smiling at Hawke.
"I would not think much of that Hawke, coming from an abomination," Fenris added, striding closer towards them with his usual indifferent expression. If it weren't for the blood on his armour you would have never guessed that Fenris had just killed a dragon.
"Oh, but if the crazy ex-slave with a taste for blood says it, you should obviously jump up and down and rejoice," Anders drawled.
Hawke rolled her eyes and retreated back around the corner. They'd left all their supplies in the doorway and the rumble in her stomach told her that sustenance was definitely needed.
"At least I do not throw compliments at her and slaver at her every step like a pathetic dog," Fenris bit back.
"Oh yes, you're a fine one to call me a dog!" Anders replied.
"Enough!" Hawke commanded as she returned.
"And here's another thing, Fenris. Did you not just see what Aria did? She blasted out electricity from her hands. Like it or not, she's a mage. So why should it matter to you what I say to her? You hate us, after all," Anders added, making Hawke wince at his presumption that she would now class herself as one of them. She was Hawke. Why couldn't she just be Hawke?
She wrinkled her nose at the conversation. She knew this would happen as soon as she ran out of options. Anders would of course think that she had decided to join the brotherhood of apostates and dance around turning templars into flowers and wear long robes that screamed "I'm an apostate".
"I do not hate Hawke. She is the only mage I have encountered that does not wear their profound inheritance as a medal; it does not define her or poison her like it does the rest," Fenris said, his voice quieter than before.
His words made her falter from her uncomfortableness for a moment, and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. It meant a lot, coming from Fenris of all people.
"And where do I fall into that?" Anders asked, curious rather than aggressive now.
"An abomination? I suspect you already know where you fall in the grand scheme of things," Fenris hissed, his nose flaring in hostility.
"Enough! Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. It served a purpose; it's over with now, so we're back to business. Plus, I couldn't do the whole mage shit. Robes are too unflattering, and where on Thedas do you stuff your staff when a templar approaches? Not practical," she commented, shrugging off the tense conversation with a roguish grin.
"Not practical? Shit, I bet Rivaini would sell herself to find out that trick," Varric said.
"Isabela already gives herself for free, what exactly is she selling Varric?" Hawke quipped looking down at her trusty dwarf.
Varric chuckled heartily for the first time since they had been down in the Deep Roads.
It wasn't that much of a bad day after all.