21: Always Waiting

"What- what happened?!" Leandra had been woken up a few hours before dawn by Bodahn, the panic in his voice had roused her quickly from the sleep that had threatened to pull her back to her warm, inviting bed. She had pulled on a robe and followed him downstairs, where several of Isabeau's friends were, crouched around something before the still-going fire. She realized that something was her daughter. "Beau!"

"Mistress Hawke, she was badly wounded," it was Fenris who rose to meet her, tucking one blood-stained hand behind his back. "Please, this isn't a sight you need subject yourself to."

"Young man, move," Leandra steeled herself, her trembling hands clutching the front of her robe. Not Isabeau, please… she had already lost one child to death, the other to the Circle. She couldn't lose her eldest, not after finally making amends. When he stepped aside, she inhaled. Beau was bleeding from a wound up around her neck. The mage, Anders, was tending to the wound but there was green tinging the area, seeping into her skin, into her side. "What's this green?"

"Poison." That elven woman had leapt at Beau, her blades coated in the stuff from the barrels. "Varric has sent word to the qunari but…"

"The qunari?" Leandra was confused now, what did those horned beasts have to do with this?

"They may have an antidote."

Leandra knelt down, not moving to touch her daughter and met the younger man's eyes when he finally raised his head. The anguish and fear made her already tightening throat lock up completely. He loved Isabeau, it was almost like seeing her and Malcolm all over again.


The fact that the Arishok had released a vial of what he called 'antidote' surprised Anders. They had moved Beau to her bed before the runner had returned and Leandra had cleaned Beau as best she could before finally easing her daughter into a robe of her own. Anders had cleansed the wound and then administered the antidote once it had been given to him, watching impatiently, with bated breath. There were some things that not even magic could make better. "Please," now it was a waiting game and he felt both hopeless and helpless, sitting here beside her bed and just… waiting.

Story of his life really, always waiting.

"Here."

Looking up from his knees, Anders was surprised to find a small tray being set on the edge of the bed. A cup of something to drink with bread and cheese, fresh apples, and something he wasn't entirely sure about. "Thank you, Mistress Hawke."

"You're welcome. Any sign of improvement?" Leandra walked around the other side of the bed, bending down to rest her palm on Isabeau's forehead. "She's feverish." She wanted to wring her hands, feeling the urge to plaster damp, cool clothes over her daughter, to do something, anything.

"Yes. I've sent Bodahn to my clinic for my emergency bag," he sipped the drink, it was water. "I'm taking the fever to be a good sign; it means her body is fighting." He watched as Leandra finally settled herself at the foot of the bed, beginning to smooth out the blankets. "She fought bravely."

"Of course, she did, she is her father's daughter." Leandra was both proud and a little bitter, and it came out in her tone. "I don't want a hero; I want my daughter. Healthy, alive and safe." It was all she ever wanted for her children. "But she's not one content to stay at home however, she never was."

"No." He doubted there was an idle bone in Beau's body, regardless of her jokes about wanting to sit around and drink ale all day. "She's not. She does a lot of good, you know. Volunteers at my clinic, helps Lirene with the less fortunate from Ferelden." And of course, there were the many other things she tended to do. Like patrol different parts of the city at night, assisting the guard in clearing out the scum. Then there were all the other things she did, random things to earn coin, or maybe just to keep herself occupied. Isabeau had her fingers in so many things that Anders had a hard time keeping up with it all. He bet she did too.

"I'm very proud of her and all she had accomplished in such a short time, I'm just concerned for her and given her state, rightfully so. How did this happen exactly?"

Anders shook his head because he was wondering the same thing. "I'm not sure. She was requested by the Viscount for assistance with the qunari. I was only alerted to the issue when they went to that neighborhood to deal with the stolen gas. She had gone in by herself, even after Varric ordered her not too."

"That's my Isabeau," Leandra sighed, bringing her hand up to her own head, closing her eyes. "More balls than brains."

He choked on his water.


Beau had no idea how long she had been asleep, but she was very aware that she was lucky to be alive. Currently, she didn't feel lucky but she was lucky. "Maker, why does everything ache?"

"Because, as your mother so eloquently put it, you have more balls than brains."

That was Anders and he sounded equally parts amused, exasperated and relieved. "Did she?" Her throat was parched, and her eyes felt weird, like they were beyond dry as she opened them. She was in her bedroom and so was he, he was in her room. Slowly, Beau pushed herself up into a sitting position and it seemed to take forever, her side protesting the movement, and accepted the cup he passed over, taking a very slow sip. "How long was I out for?"

"Two days," he moved to perch beside her, pulling down the blankets. "Give or take."

"What are-" false modesty was a thing apparently because she felt shy as he began opening her robe, well aware he wasn't uncovering anything besides the area she had been stabbed. "My skin is green."

"It's not as bad as it was, it's fading. I think it's a side effect of the poison…" he wasn't sure if it would fade completely or if she would always have this memento of her near death. "The wound itself is healing nicely, you'll have another scar."

"I'm collecting them it seems," then her eyes narrowed. "What do you know about my scars?"

"I know you took an arrow to your ass," at her raised eyebrow, he grinned and shook his head. "Your mother told me about it."

"Not one of my finer moments," she had taken that arrow to her retreating ass at Ostagar. "Have you been here long?"

"I've been here the entire time. What do you remember?"

"Varric, mostly, yelling at me for being an idiot. I remember the elf, she was a bit of a toad. You came, with Fenris, that was before the toad."

"Varric told you to wait, Beau."

He no longer sounded amused, in fact, it sounded like he was chastising her and Beau wasn't sure how she felt about that. "He did, but those people… you would have done the same thing."

He pursed her lips at her, brown eyes narrowing. She wasn't wrong. "That is entirely besides the point. Going in there by yourself was reckless, you're no good to anyone dead and you know it." Anders took a deep breath, forcing down his irritation. He had spent the past days worrying about her, fearful she would die from the poison, and now that he knew she'd be fine and hadn't lost her mouth malfunction… he was going to tear his hair out. "You'll be fine and I've been neglecting my patients."

"What do you mean?" He had moved away from the bed so Beau was slowly getting out of it, trying to stretch her rather groggy feeling body. He looked like he hadn't slept and the usual closely trimmed facial hair he kept was a bit longer than usual.

"I mean I've been here since you fell and I need to get back to Darktown."

"You… stayed here? The entire time? Waiting for me to wake up?" The look he gave her had her nearly back in the bed, feeling the weight behind it full force.

"I am always waiting… Beau."