The battle was one of the worst that Hawke had ever been a part of. His people were hurt- he could see it as well as feel it, but they were slowly turning the tide against the templars.
He knew he was distracted; he was trying to keep the mages from turning into abominations, trying to have them join with him, and fight for their freedom. Even knowing that most of them couldn't actually survive that way, having been in captivity for their entire lives, they would be unable to simply go out into the world as is.
But he knew in his heart that it needed to happen. Even as frightening as it was, these people needed to know that there was more to them than what they had been taught; more to this world than what the templars allowed them to see. And more to their power than being able to withstand demons' whispers.
He knew he wasn't the one to teach them, as he had very little patience for such things, but he could practically taste the desire of seeing it happen.
And so, he continued to speak to them, begging them to not give in and to assist in the fight, or even to hide away for now.
Even though it brought all attention from the templars directly to him.
Fenris whirled around yet again, hearing Hawke yelling through the smoke and the death. He needed to protect him, but the man kept running off after mages, which was making Fenris genuinely angry. He could feel it on his skin; something about this fight was off, yet Hawke continued to recklessly move from courtyard to hallway and back again without a single thought for his safety.
"What's the problem Broody?" Varric asked as he joined him, panting and wiping at the sweat on his face. Which of course, only succeeded in smearing grime and soot across his forehead.
"Have you noticed anything strange?" Fenris asked, even as he moved forward to follow after Hawke, glancing from side to side to look for danger.
"You mean like how the templars are more worried about killing mages than actually fighting us?" Varric replied, causing Fenris to stop.
Was that it? he thought. Was that what I've been sensing? After thinking for a moment, Fenris shook his head. No, not that, he thought. Though now that the dwarf mentioned it, he could see the pattern.
"No," he answered. "Though I can see that now that you say it." He looked around again, noticing Hawke fighting with an armored templar, though he seemed to be fine. "I am speaking of how the templars are not trying to kill us."
"Hawke practically got a bolt through his head…" Varric started to argue, mostly on principle, but he looked around and went silent. He watched several of his friends fighting, and now that he was looking for it, yes, he could see what the elf was getting at.
"Those fighting demons are having a much harder time…" he murmured.
"Exactly," Fenris sighed, grateful that he wasn't the only one that could see it. "Though I do not understand." He straightened suddenly, seeing that Hawke had defeated the templar he had been fighting, and was speaking to the small mage he had saved.
"Come on!" Fenris called as he moved after them, uncertain of why Hawke being pulled away by the mage had him so worried. They were most likely off to save the small man's friend or fellow mage he thought, so he didn't understand his distress.
Varric also didn't understand, since he hadn't seen anything. He was simply following along, trusting Broody's instincts were as sharp as ever.
Hawke let the man hold onto his arm, though he was running alongside him without any effort. The mage was so small, so quiet… it was obvious that he was not yet of age, and most likely had very little power. He wore rags, and Hawke could only think that he had been used as some sort of servant.
The man had begged him to help save the Grand Enchanter, and Hawke hadn't even thought twice, just had asked the young man to lead the way.
However, the further they went, the more anxious Hawke became. True, he didn't know the Gallows very well, but it seemed that they were heading away from the dungeons instead of towards them. He could understand why the Grand Enchanter would be holed up in some forgotten area- especially since the elf had never been one to shy away from conflict. However, something felt off.
Turning the corner, Hawke stopped and grabbed his head. The piercing sensation was agony, and he couldn't understand where it was coming from, or why. He glanced down at the mage in question, and the young man winced, as if he understood.
"It is difficult, but you can get past it. Just do not fight it, and it will not fight you," he offered as if it were simple. Hawke merely shook his head, blinking rapidly to try to focus.
"We are almost there," the young man stumbled forward, and Hawke had to wonder if he was truly as unaffected as he seemed at first.
"What-?" Hawke couldn't even get the sentence out, and he stepped back in reaction.
"Come, come!" the young man insisted. "You have to help him! It's your fault they have done this to us!"
Hawke felt that like a knife, the piercing of the words just as painful as the piercing in his skull. He nodded, pushing himself forward.
"Hawke!" he heard, and turned back, seeing Fenris and Varric running up to them.
"Do you feel that?!" Varric grabbed onto Fenris's armor, and the elf looked back in alarm.
"It is very powerful…" Fenris recoiled at the feeling, the anger and desire for power boiling within him so suddenly- he knew it was not from within himself.
"It's just like that idol Bartrand had, but so much worse," Varric said, glancing around them. His gaze zeroed in on a door, and the young mage nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, yes! He is here. You are here! You can save him!"
"Who is here?" Varric asked suspiciously.
"Orsino, the Grand Enchanter," Hawke replied, feeling slightly better knowing it was almost over.
"Then we should get him, and get out of here," Fenris spoke up, and moved forward with a slashing attack. The double doors were made of wood and held little resistance to his might. They shattered inwards, slivers of wood raining down around them.
"You could have just cut the lock," Hawke chuckled weakly.
"We need to get out of here," Fenris said, looking at his friend in concern.
"Guess the kid is going to help the enchanter?" Varric quipped, seeing as the young man had already entered the room. His smile faded as he took in the eerie glow coming from the doorway. "That's not right…"
Before they could move, they heard noises of something moving around. They could hear the mage asking after the enchanter, though there were only retching noises in reply.
"I think we should leave…" Varric stated.
"But the Grand Enchanter," Hawke started, only to be cut off by a roaring scream- one that sounded awfully familiar.
"We should go," he changed his tune easily, and started moving back towards the way they had come. Hearing the heavy breathing coming from the room had him thinking of a darkspawn ogre. He moved quickly, not worrying about Fenris practically dragging him along.
They moved quickly, finally emerging out into the mage courtyard. Seeing that the fighting had slowed down, they continued on, looking for their companions. Moving through the simple hallways, and down the steps had them entering the main courtyard of the Gallows- where this had all begun.
"You should surrender."
Hawke glanced up, seeing the Knight Commander walking towards them, though she stopped outside of Fenris' attack range.
Feeling much better and with a clear head, Hawke stood his ground, even as he kept his hands at his sides. He truly wanted to understand, not continue to kill each other.
"What have you done to the Grand Enchanter?" he asked, his tone forceful yet quiet. He was demanding an answer and would settle for nothing less than the truth. By the look on her face, she knew it.
The fighting around them slowed and finally stopped as those around them focused in on their standoff. The only one to move closer was Cullen, though he came towards them in the middle of them; siding with neither of them.
"I have done nothing," Resa replied.
Hawke could see no guilt on her face, so at least in this she was telling the truth.
"Meaning that your forerunner tortured and imprisoned him, and you simply left him there," Hawke shot back, not impressed with her 'honesty'.
"I could do nothing for him," she seemed aggravated by the conversation, which only made Hawke want to continue it.
"You could have done plenty. For Orsino, and for the mages in your care. However, you decided not to."
"What do you know?!" she sneered, her anger getting the best of her. "You think you know what the templars deal with, what they must face? You know absolutely NOTHING!"
Hawke considered her now, feeling genuine emotion- both a struggle and despair coming from her words. "Then tell me, so I can understand," he pleaded.
The Knight Commander looked around, knowing that she was finished. No matter what she did now, she would be given the lyrium because she hadn't been strong enough, vigilant enough.
She sighed in defeat, noting that she was standing alone. A place that in the templar order, she thought she would never be again. "It is because of the red-"
The crashing surprised everyone, and the people jumped out of the way as best they could, those further back putting their arms in front of themselves to protect from flying debris. The Commander however, only got as far as turning around to see what was happening.
In a split-second it was over, and she no longer had to worry about her position, nor what she was giving up.
Hawke tried to move quickly, though his body was groaning from all the pain he had been put through that day. He hoped his people were okay, as his mana was not enough to handle another fight as well as any major healing, though he would if he had to.
He was the first to stand, and the shock of what he was seeing had him wanting to both run to help and back away. In the middle of the debris stood the Grand Enchanter, though he was covered in red spikes that seemed to be coming from his body.
Hearing a scream from behind him, he turned, only to watch as a templar struck down the young mage that had freed him. Without a second thought, Orsino sent a spike of red into the face of the templar.
Hawke stood frozen, even as others began to stand. Orsino looked down at his feet, seeing the Knight Commander's corpse laying in front of him, bleeding from the explosion that he had wrought. Hawke watched as the elf glanced around, seeing the templars with weapons out around him, taking notice of Hawke's injuries and those of his companions.
Then, finally, he saw the bodies.
All those mages that he had cared for, all those that he had given up so much in order to protect… discarded. Discarded around him like the taunting of all those templars throughout the years. He thought he would be able to make things better, to make it possible to live in the tower, not simply exist there.
The tear fell from his eye as he realized that he had been wrong.
"Why bother trying?" he murmured to himself. "Why do they not just kill us in our infancy?"
"Grand Enchanter," Hawke began, seeing the absolute despair in his red eyes as they met gazes. "Do not…" he wasn't even certain of what he was going to say. He just knew he wanted it all to stop. "Do not give up, enchanter."
Orsino looked over, and Hawke could see that he was gone already. "I am not giving up… I am giving in."
The crowd gasped as a large red spike broke through the enchanter's chest, blood spilling down his front, though he simply just stood there.
Then the magic started, and Fenris was suddenly standing in front of Hawke. It was mere moments later, that Hawke could sense all of his people around him. They were all quiet as they watched in horror.
Orsino's magic gathered the dead bodies around him and pulled them into his own body. Hawke couldn't understand what he was seeing, as there was evidence of blood magic, yet he could see no blood. Even the blood on the front of his chest seemed to have disappeared. And in addition to all that, there was a concerning red glow around him, as well as the red spikes that were around his body.
But then, Hawke no longer thought of what was happening, or why. He now had to focus on how to fight the giant red beast that was now in front of him.
"What is that?" Anders asked, disgust lacing his words.
"Maker's breath," they heard Cullen say.
"It's the last thing we have to kill," Isabela gave Charade a nod, and she returned it as she pulled out an arrow to notch in her bow.
"With the Knight Commander gone, we can have Cullen stand the templars down," she agreed. "Once this thing is taken care of."
"Why are there so many arms?" Varric sneered at it, wishing he had never seen the thing.
"It sounds like the thing Duran told us he fought in the Deep Roads," Fenris contemplated.
"We'll discuss it after it's dead," Hawke snapped. "Right now, we have work to do."
"We can help."
Hawke turned, seeing Aveline's husband standing with Cullen and some other templars. Looking out, he noticed that many of the templars that had been in the courtyard were gone.
"Many have run," Donnic answered the unspoken question. "This will be our final battle, thank the Maker."
"Positions," Hawke ordered, and his crew scrambled to get into place. "You can take the left," he offered to Donnic and the templars. "We'll keep it busy."
With a nod, the other fighters took positions. Hawke looked up as the creature began to scream. "Let's finish this," he replied with a weary smirk.
"You seem tired, Kinsleigh."
Cat looked up, seeing that Mia was joining her on the small bench outside.
"No more than the new mother," she replied and gave a weary smile. "I can't help but be amazed at her strength."
"Babies have a way of making you forget the pain, at least for a time," Mia smiled as she sat next to her. "And by then, time lessens the memory as well… at least that is what I believe to be the reason women keep having more."
"Good thing they do, or we would not be here to talk of it, I think," Cat answered, enjoying the woman's company. She was so much like Cullen, with a healthy dose of sarcasm and plenty of common sense.
"True," Mia answered as she toed off her shoes and stretched out, rolling her ankles. "You'll see for yourself."
"Hmm…" Cat gave a non-committal sound, not wanting to continue down that thought, as she didn't feel like explaining how her body didn't function properly. "Is everything all right with them?" she asked.
"Right as rain," Mia answered. "The little one is fed and asleep, so I persuaded Wren to do the same, and get some rest while she is able."
"We are very grateful to you," Cat said for the umpteenth time.
"And once again, I will say I am happy to help," Mia answered, though her smile turned thoughtful. "Kinsleigh… well, I'd say I don't want to pry, but I don't like being dishonest."
Cat laughed, knowing that they had been more patient than most would have. She had had no idea that Cullen's younger sister Rosalie had become a healer and midwife; that Mia had stayed with her to help manage the home and money that came in.
It was unexpected but had been a blessing at the time as she had practically had to carry Wren to the midwife as soon as they entered the town. The baby had come that night, and they had spent the following week with Cullen's sisters, though Mia and Rosalie did not know of her connection to their brother.
Rosalie did ask about their plans to return home and had offered to let them stay longer once she found out that she and Wren were traveling. However, Cat hadn't been very forthcoming, and she knew Mia's patience had run out - not that she could blame her.
"I am sorry for being so secretive," Cat began slowly, trying to choose her words carefully. She wanted nothing more than to be honest as she had shared letters with Mia in the past and felt she was trustworthy. However, she was still battling herself about leaving them to keep them safe - even knowing Mia wouldn't appreciate decisions being made for her.
"With all the fighting…" the gasp let her know that Mia understood what she wasn't saying. "Well, my husband… died." Just saying it had her heart hurting, even though both words weren't the truth. "And Wren's partner stayed to help but wanted to get us away."
"With the baby that close, I do not blame him," Mia said quietly, her features showing her sympathy. "I apol-"
"No need," Cat interrupted. "Being the fighter he is, he has many enemies and fears for our safety as well, which is why we have been so tightlipped."
"I understand," Mia contemplated what she was hearing, as well as her conversation with Rosalie the previous night. "So then, do you plan to meet somewhere? If you are worried about being followed, you must have disguised your travel. How will he find you?"
Cat couldn't help but smile at the woman's strength and intelligence. Any other woman would have wanted no part of their trouble or may have not understood what they were facing. "We planned to travel until the baby came, then stop for a time," she answered, not wanting to give more information than necessary. No matter how much she liked Mia, she didn't trust anyone completely but Nyssa right now.
Mia was quiet for a time, and then stood up, turning back around to face Cat. "This may prove advantageous for all of us then," she said, holding out a hand to her. Cat's face showed her puzzlement, and Mia chuckled.
"It was Rosie's idea, so I don't want to spoil it." Her voice dropped conspiratorially into a whisper. "However, with the hunting you've been doing and the help with the chores, we've been able to save some money. She's hoping to talk you into staying long enough that she can afford a new dress."
"Hmm…" Cat responded just as quietly as she grabbed Mia's hand and stood. "But how would she tend to her other customers if we stay?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"She told me that she liked you both," Mia admitted. "And though I am a harder sell, the fact that you would ask that first tells me she was right about you." She gave Cat a brilliant smile. "We have another building on the edge of the property that we use occasionally for those who may be contagious - to separate them from others. It's small, and on the other side of the field, but I think it would work, if you want."
Cat felt the lump of worry that she had carried all week dissolve, and she returned Mia's smile. If we keep to ourselves, and don't go into town much…she thought. "It sounds promising," she agreed. "Let's wait until Wren wakes up to talk it over. She'll want to be in on this."
"Of course," Mia nodded, leading Cat inside. "We'll definitely have to do some cleaning first," she continued, already certain they would have their way. "My brother Branson stays there when he is home, but he can handle being with us."
"Your brother?" Cat asked, keeping her voice down so as not to interrupt Nyssa's sleep as they passed by her room.
"We have two actually," Mia answered. "Though only one that is still nearby."
She didn't continue as they walked into the kitchen, and though Cat wanted to push, she couldn't justify doing so.
"Two what?" Rosalie asked, her hands busy with making bread.
"Brothers," Mia answered, giving a soft smile. "I was telling Kinsleigh that Bran likes to stay in the cabin."
"Oh, so you've talked about it?" Rosalie asked, as her hands stilled, and she glared at her sister.
"Not really, I just mentioned we have an extra place," Mia tucked her tongue in her cheek in order to not laugh at her sister's pout. "And Bran's name came up."
"Do you have siblings Kinsleigh?" Rosalie asked as she continue to knead her dough.
"I did, once," Cat answered, hoping they wouldn't prod more out of her. "Though I do think of Wren as a sister."
"That's a nice thought," Rosalie answered with a soft smile. "I think she feels the same as you do." She looked over at Cat and gave a small frown. "Why don't you sit down?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm fine," Cat answered, waving that suggestion away. "I've been sitting for the last half hour, and I was going to ask if you needed help."
"Yes, actually," Rosalie smiled brightly. "I'd love some company while I make this bread. Would you sit and keep me company?" she asked.
Cat stared for a moment before she laughed. "Do you always get what you want?" she asked teasingly.
"Of course," Rosalie answered, as the other woman took a seat across from her.
"Do you have to go?" Leandra asked. "Bothof you?"
"I don't see how we can stay at this point," Garrett answered, pawing quickly through his clothes and stuffing the ones he wanted into a bag. "Anders, take anything you can use," he called out behind him.
"Are you certain?" Anders asked, feeling horrible for having been looking at the tunic in the wardrobe.
"Honestly, Varric and Aveline will do what they can, but I'm certain the city will take possession of the house," Garrett answered. "And anything in it."
"It isn't right, but it will most likely happen," Aveline agreed. "The Knight Commander and the Grand Enchanter are dead, the Gallows and Chantry are in rubble, with destruction from riots happening all over the city." She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. "It's chaos right now, especially since it's spreading that the Knight Commander was killed by the Grand Enchanter."
"Which technically is true, no matter what truly happened," Hawke replied.
"And the Champion will take most of the blame," Charade spoke up, coming over to put her hand on her aunt's arm in consolation. "Which means his friends will be a part of that."
"So will his family," Garrett turned to his mother. "Are you sure you won't leave?" he asked.
"I can't, not again," Leandra looked stricken. "Jacob has much sway with the people," she answered, nodding to help herself internalize it. "He believes we will be all right, perhaps just shunned at first, however once they see that we are helping to rebuild that should help." She looked around her, not wanting to make it harder for her remaining child. "I am so sorry it came to this," she said sadly.
"We had much more time than we thought," Garrett answered gently. "Being a mage in a city like Kirkwall is definitely not for the faint of heart."
"That is true," she answered, moving towards the wardrobe. She began pulling things out and passing them to several people. "Here Aveline, take these for Donnic, and Charade I believe your Isabela would like this."
"Thank you, mother," Garrett said, touched at her strength in this moment. "I will not be able to return to live in Kirkwall, but I will come see you as soon as things have calmed down."
"I would appreciate that," Leandra nodded, and moved to the door of the room. "I'll go see what else we can give away," she added, sounding happy, though he could see the tears forming in her eyes.
"It may not seem it, but you are doing the right thing," Aveline spoke up once Leandra had left.
"I know," Garrett replied. "I only hope it works. I feel as though everyone we managed to save wouldn't survive if the Divine decided to march here. How could I do anything else?"
"I've already started the rumors," Varric said in reply, wanting to make it easier on his friend. "Have you decided which way you'll go?" he asked.
"As far as I can," Hawke answered grimly. "Though I'll circle the neighboring towns first, so there will plenty of sightings of the Champion leaving from every direction once the templars regroup and start asking questions."
"Don't take too much time on that," Varric cautioned. "We don't want anyone catching on and turning you in to the Chantry. Though the Left Hand likes you, so who knows?"
"Leliana made it very clear last time who she will side with," Hawke answered dryly. "With the current situation, she'd probably be the first to string me up."
"It's time to go," Fenris said from the doorway. "We cannot wait any longer."
"Got it," Hawke answered, looking to Aveline and then Varric. He would be saying farewell to Charade and Isabela at the docks, and the others further out, but these two were staying here in the city to try to keep some semblance of order. He had no words to give them, for none seemed to be adequate enough for what he was feeling now.
"Go on Hawke," Varric said with a sad smile. "We know."
Hawke rested his hand on Varric's shoulder a moment and gave it a squeeze and then turned to Aveline and gave her a salute. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking.
"My pleasure," Aveline answered. "Take care of yourself, Hawke."
"Always do," he replied giving them a smirk as he marched out of the room after Fenris.
Now alone with Varric, Aveline gave a large sigh. "Feels as though the city is losing its light, doesn't it?" she asked.
"Definitely," Varric replied, feeling the same way as the Guard Captain. "We knew it would happen eventually, but I wasn't quite ready for it," he admitted.
"Me neither," she responded.
"Ugh…" Cat moaned, her head resting on her forearm now that she emptied her stomach in the bushes.
"Kinsleigh?" she heard, and quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, standing and rushing back to go inside.
Mia turned the corner, seeing how pale the woman looked as she walked back in the house. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Fine, sorry about that," Cat replied, giving her a wince. "It is me, not your tea, I promise," she added. "I keep remembering how much I love it, but it hasn't been agreeing with me the past couple of days."
"Oh, that's fine," Mia answered, looking at her in concern. "I am more concerned with you."
"I must be getting ill," Cat mused, putting her hand up to her forehead. "I should keep my distance to ensure I do not get anyone else sick, especially the baby," she continued as they walked back to the kitchen.
"Kinsleigh?" Rosalie asked. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"I believe I may be ill," Cat answered, "so don't get too close." She held up a hand to keep the younger woman back. "It is most likely from all the stress of travel."
Rosalie looked at her sister in confusion. "The travel?" she echoed.
"Yes," Cat replied, sitting across the room from the others. "I didn't sleep well during that time, and all the worry about staying hidden plus Wren's condition. And I didn't eat well either, as I had to ensure Wren had the nutrients she needed-"
"Kinsleigh," Rosalie said firmly, coming near and putting her hands on Cat's shoulders.
Cat looked up into her face and gave a sigh. "I'm sorry, Rosalie, Mia," she said. "I should have noticed the signs sooner."
Mia glanced at her sister, beginning to see what Rose was already sure of. "What signs?" she asked innocently.
"I've just been so exhausted," Cat answered, leaning back and closing her eyes. "I haven't been hungry, and even more heated than usual." She put her hand up to her face again, certain she must be burning up with a fever. "Not to mention sore."
"Your body is sore?" Rosalie asked. "How long has this all been going on?" she prodded.
"Not my entire body. And I don't know, about a week or so?" Cat answered as she rubbed her palms over her face. "I suppose I just pushed myself too hard, and now that we are able to stop, it's all catching up with me."
She felt a hand over hers and opened her eyes to see Rosalie looking at her kindly. Her hands fell down into her lap, but Rosalie's palm stayed cupped on her cheek. She then put the back of her hand to Cat's forehead for a moment, then shook her head.
"I don't believe you are ill, Kinsleigh," she said, and Cat looked at her in confusion.
"What else could it be Rosalie?" Cat asked. "I definitely do not feel as I typically do."
Rosalie looked over her shoulder at Mia, then turned back to Cat with a sad smile. "Kinsleigh… I have thought this since we met, but I believe it even more so today."
"What?" Cat asked, feeling worried now by the sadness she saw on her face. She leaned forward and put her hand on Rosalie's shoulder. "Tell me, please."
"It may be hard to hear, now that your husband is gone, but Kinsleigh… I believe that you are pregnant."
Cat had no words for them. She sat back and simply stared in disbelief.
