Hawke Fade Away | By : HunterOpera Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 22975 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age and make no money from this. |
“What illusion is this?” Hawke asked, opening her eyes. She didn't recognize the location – a deep-rooted cellar in a wealthy home, the decor hinting at a Tevinter she'd heard about but never seen. Her wrists were manacled, chains pulling her arms up over her head, her clothing more a suggestion than actual covering.
A thousand candles lit the room, all of them along the walls, their flickering light lending the sigil at her feet a reflective sheen. She stared at it, trying to make sense of the swirls and signs, a more complex working than anything she'd seen before laid out in lyrium.
“Are you sure this is meant for me?” Hawke asked.
The Nightmare was silent.
She pulled at the chains and found them solid. The costume she was in featured a series of straps that wound around her torso, framing her breasts and midriff and lower, some black material fastened to her mid-bicep and mid-thigh, running down her arms and legs and trapping her fingers and toes. She could feel a heavy collar around her neck, feel a ring resting on her upper chest.
Her ankles were undone. She kicked out, trying to see if there was anything she could strike, but there was nothing. The chains keeping her arms above her head gave her a slack enough to lay her feet flat against the floor, but not enough to move around or lower her arms.
She rattled them.
“This isn't going to work,” Hawke growled. “I'm on to you.”
The Nightmare, again, was silent.
She called her magic to her, then paused as the circle at her feet began to glow. She paused, waiting to see what it would do, crimson veins in the lyrium catching her eye.
“Yeah, we're done here,” Hawke muttered, closing her eyes, then opening them when she heard a door open. She turned and looked, wondering how she hadn't seen the door before – the sliver of light revealed a flight of stairs she hadn't seen behind her, the stairs hidden by the strange light of the room and they way they followed the wall.
Her breath caught in her throat as she sighted the familiar silhouette of her elven lover.
She would know his shape anywhere – every contour, every line of hard muscle, the dull gleam of the lyrium infused in his skin. He'd hated her when they'd first met, hated Anders more, but the three of them had forged a powerful relationship built upon trust and respect. They'd fought and faced every foe together, the three of them combined.
Hawke caught her lover's eye and immediately knew something was very wrong.
“Fenris...?” she said. He said nothing, standing in the doorway. His eyes were dull, his face expressionless.
“His name,” an arrogant voice rang from behind the elf, “is Ledo.”
Danarius brushed past the lyrium-inlaid elf, looking bored. His graying hair framed his face, sparkling green eyes alight with a casual sadism that worried Hawke.
“What did you do to him?” Hawke shouted, pulling at her chains.
“Have you forgotten again?” Danarius sighed. He walked closer, to the edge of the circle she was in, and beckoned Fenris to come to him. “I expected more from you, Champion, but then you have always proven a disappointment – expecting me to put myself in your city, thinking you were safe outside your city, and then falling victim to the illusions I use to keep you adrift. Are you going to try and use your magic again?”
She did, roaring, calling lightning to her hands to strike her enemy, calling on stone and earth to entomb and crush him. He sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest as Fenris knelt at his feet and the circle around her flared to life, feasting on her energy, pulling the magic from her body.
“Remember what I told you, Leto,” Danarius said, stroking the silver-hair that was pressed to his hip. Fenris' eyes were dull and blank, seeping in the silver-crimson light that flared from the circle. “We come here to watch when you think of leaving or disobeying me. Your life is my will.”
The light began to solidify, tendrils wrapping around her calves and moving up her thighs, brushing against her back and tickling the soft flesh underneath her breasts.
“What is this?” Hawke demanded, her magic pulled from her to feed whatever horror was about to happen.
“The best part of this rite is how you never remember anything that came before,” Danarius said, a smile creeping along his face. “It means we get to experience the fresh horror of this together every single time.”
Hawke had no idea what he was talking about, but the warm appendage her magic had been turned into slithered along the fabric of her legs, hitting the exposed flesh of her upper thighs. She glared at the man in front of her and he laughed.
“Let's see how loud your screams become this time,” he said, wrenching back on Fenris' head. “And you, don't forget to watch your precious lady love.”
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