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I Am At Your Side	By : screencraZe43 Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2436 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own, and did not create, the characters of the Dragon Age universe. Some dialogue has been pulled directly from DE2 to integrate this story directly with gameplay. I do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Am At Your Side
- 2-The Deep Roads
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Hawke made her way back towards Lowtown, the sun just barely touching the rooftops of the buildings she passed. The gold from her last job--the last bit that was needed for her to buy into the Deep Roads expedition--clinked softly at her waist. It made her weary. She would be glad to be rid of it, deposited into the locked chest she had hidden in a dark corner of Uncle Gamelin's...hovel. Hopefully he was playing at dice, or passed out in his chair by the fire, or else the appearance of her money would make him start harping her mother for a 'contribution' again.
She stared blankly up the stairs. It was just one flight, yet she could not make herself want to climb them. Hawke turned away and let her mind and feet wander. She passed silently by the Hanged Man, though normally she would have gone and listened to one of Varric's stories. She smiled. The dwarf always seemed to be able to make her feel better, but she didn't want to spend her last night on the surface in the smoky bar.
If they didn't find the treasure Varric and Bartrand believed to be down there, Hawke didn't know what they would do. Not that she resented all of the jobs she had taken in the past few months. It was just that some of them had left a...bad taste in her mouth. Though if she hadn't been desperate, she would never have accepted Anso's offer...She wondered if she would have felt this confident heading into the Deep Roads without Fenris. The elf puzzled and intrigued her in a way few people had. He was quiet, keeping his opinions to himself unless provoked, yet she knew his beliefs ran deep. Varric's innocent goading didn't bother her so much, but Anders...if the ex-warden weren't such a damned good healer, she would have left him the second he had handed over the map. As it was, she was nearly set on taking Bethany instead. At least her sister did't make Fenris scoul quite as much.
She blinked, startled to find herself in the plaza outside of Fenris's borrowed mansion. Her thoughts had apparently been stronger than she realized. Hawke entered without knocking. Fenris, she had learned, was incredibly sharp of hearing, even more so than other elves. He would know it was her the moment she stepped inside.
She found him in the center upstairs room, stairing into the large fire roaring in the hearth as tall as he was, his weapon still slung over his shoulder. "Hawke," he said softly, his voice husky from disuse. "This is a...surprise."
She froze. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. Maybe he wanted to be left alone. "I...uh. Just wanted to check on you--ah, that you'll be ready to leave tomorrow..."
The talons of his gauntlets scratched against the stone of the mantel. "I will." He turned towards her, and she felt pinned by those big, green eyes. "Please," he gestured towards the benches by the fire. "Sit."
Hawke sank to the far bench, watching him as he went to one of the large tables pushed against the wall. When he turned back towards her, he had an impish smirk on his face and an uncorked bottle of wine in his hand. "Agreggio Pavali," he said, examining the label and taking a taste before handing it to her. "There are six bottles in the cellar. Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance intimidated them, he said, which he enjoyed."
She took a few sips herself, savoring the layers of flavor in the fine red wine. "I can't imagine why they would be put off," she said handing him the bottle with a shy smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, giving her a slight smile in return before taking a long swig of the wine. He looked at the bottle a moment, and then hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact, the wine running in rivers to the floor. He turned back to her and sat, the slight crinkling at his eyes reassuring her that it was mirth, not rage, that was running most strongly at the moment. "It's good I can still take pleasure in the small things."
"You've had a difficult life." She didn't realize that she has spoken until she saw all the mirth drain from his face.
"I'd rather not speak more of it."
What the hell, she though. She had already started down that road..."I am willing to listen."
"Hah!" he barked. "To my whining? Very charitable of you. I've wanted to leave my past behind me. But it won't stay there. Tell me, have you never wanted to return to Ferelden?"
It was an odd question, and caught her by surprise. "I've started a life here."
"And that's it?" His eyes narrowed. "You leave it behind so easily?"
She couldn't leave it behind, though she wanted to forget that look on her mother's face. "I lost my bother to the blight," she said quietly, the statement having emerged out of her thoughts without her bidding it.
But Fenris pressed on. "And now he no longer matters to you?" His harshness snapped her out of the horrible memories. She looked up at him, her eyes wide in the remembered terror of what had been an impossible situation. Fenris softened, shifting nervously in his seat. "I apologize. Your life is your own. It simply...sounds very familiar." He paused, looking away from her. "I...suppose there are advantages in numbers."
"But, I thought...Haven't sought help before?"
He waved a hand dismissively. "Hirelings, when I could steal the coin. Never anyone of substance--until you."
Maker help her, she was blushing. Again. "You could stay. Here. In Kirkwall, I mean."
He smiled, a genuine smile, one that almost showed his teeth. It made her breath catch in her throat. "I could see myself staying--for the right reasons. I should thank you again for helping me against the hunters. Had I know Anso would find me a woman so capable, I might have asked him to look sooner."
Her jaw dropped. He...was...flirting? With her? She had to know how serious he was, though, before showing her own hand. "Talk is cheap," she said with a sly grin.
He laughed, a rich sound that echoed off the walls, inviting her to join him. "Is that so? Perhaps I'll practice my flattery for your next visit." He stood and offered a hand to help her up. It was time she headed home. A lot was going to happen tomorrow. "With any luck I'll become better at it."

~~~~~~
They had been traveling underground for five days, and already Fenris couldn't wait to have the expedition long behind him. Though he was only required to take a single watch every other night, the strange sounds the others didn't seem to hear made him toss and turn for two or three of the four shifts anyway. He had given up trying to sleep more than a few hours after their third night in the Deep Roads.
He had become familiar with the two most common sounds by the second night--the groaning of rock shifting against rock and the trickling of water through whatever small crevice it could find--but there was a third sound that he seemed to hear only when everything else was still that he could not put a name to. It was a rumble, or perhaps a murmur, that had an undulating pitch, like a distant conversation or a song. The shifting of rock was enough to worry about, what with the fear of tunnel collapses, but this third sound was what would have woken him even from a slumber as deep as Hawke's.
He glanced over at her, mystified at how anyone could look as at home as she did on the cold stone with nothing more than a few blankets. At least she had the sense to sleep in her chest plate and keep her helmet, shield, and sword close to hand. She could be sensible, when she wanted to be, though he had learned quickly--at the expense of others, thankfully--that she was often a woman of little patience and, once crossed, Hawke never forgot. She still occasionally grumbled about their dealings with Javaris, despite the fact that it had been several months, and the dwarf's offense had been slight.
She was fascinating when she slept, which gave at least part of his mind a welcome distraction. Unlike...Bethany, Amwyn barely moved once she had fallen asleep, but she did tend to make soft incoherent noises as if she were having the most interesting conversations. Sometimes she sounded...contented. Sometimes they were short and curt, and Fenris amused himself by filling in an argument with Anders, one where she finally put the arrogant man in his place. As if someone like Hawke would actually willingly associate with a mage. Fenris wouldn't doubt that the mage would have stooped as low as to appeal to Andoral, had the God not become the Archdemon Dragon of Slaves, in order to have her as his own. Na via lerno victoria, as the saying went, but Fenris would gladly become Garahel, the one who ended Andoral, before he let one as vile as a shequetinari, the worst of all abominations, have her.
He looked down, shocked at how tightly clenched his fists were, and that the lyrium was glowing a dark blue he had never seen before. Slowing his breathing, he concentrated on uncurling his fingers one at a time, until he felt the last of his rage drain away. Who was he kidding, other than himself? The Magisters had made him almost as bad as any mage. At least he was not vulnerable to demons, though he would never have allowed one to join with him had he been.
Fenris glanced over at the hour glass and sighed. It was almost the end of the third shift. It was Hawke's turn next, and he only had a short time to make it look like he had never gotten back up after she had fallen asleep. He would not want to over worry her.

~~~~~~
They had been moving almost non-stop since crawling their way out of the primeval thaig, but the rage quietly simmering in her blood made it almost impossible for Hawke to keep still, even when they did stop for a few hours rest. Most nights she didn't even bother to set out her blankets, preferring to stay fully armored and upright. Fenris usually accompanied her, the two of them quietly sitting watch, with the exception of the few hours he insisted she at least lie down. Her lips twitched, remembering the one time she had tried to insist that he get some rest as well. He had been immovable, casually brushing all of arguments aside, insisting that he had more experience with sleep deprivation than she did. She would have argued until he conceded the point had he not almost pushed her over with a single finger. Well, that, and the way his eyes had sparkled in mirth at her atypical awkwardness.
Hawke looked around, startled for a moment. "This part of the Deep Roads looks familiar."
"We're back where we started," Varric chuckled, "and in only five days!" He slid a sly look at Hawke. "Not bad, eh?"
Hawke was still trying to decide whether to laugh or scowl when he heard Bethany from behind her. "Could we...slow down? I'm not feeling very well." She sounded exhausted, and Hawke kicked herself for not paying enough attention to the others.
She looked around. There was an alcove near by that was as good as any. "Let's make camp there, if you're sick."
Varric grinned. "I'll wager it was those deep mushrooms we found."
Bethany choked behind them, making Hawke stop in her tracks. "No," her sister said weakly, and Amwyn turned just in time to see her collapse. "Bethany!" she gasped, rushing to her sister's side. Her heart stopped when her sister opened her eyes. They were dull, close to lifeless, and her lids were so bruised they were almost black. Hawke smoothed her sister?s hair away from her forehead and neck, the black blood in her veins standing in stark contrast to the unnatural pale white of her skin. Hawke bit her cheek, barely keeping her tears contained. She had to be strong for her sister, especially now.
But her sister already knew. "It's the blight, isn't it? I'll end up just like Wesley, won't I?"
Hawke sobbed, but her tears remained in check. "There must be some other way."
Bethany shook her head. "I'm not going to last until the surface, and you know it. It's coming on faster."
"We're in the middle of nowhere," Varric whispered. "There's no way...oh sunshine..."
Bethany smiled weakly up at Hawke. "You'll take care of it, won't you sis?"
"How can I kill my own sister?" she asked, her voice strong but the tears finally streaming down her face.
"Because she is asking you to." Hawke nodded, resigned. She knew what she had to do. Bethany reached up, smoothing some of Hawke's tears away. "It'll be just you, now. Take care of Mother."
Hawke dug through her backpack, pulling out a pair of leather gloves and an old blade she had planned on fencing when they got back to the surface. She deposited the rest of her bags as well as her sword, shield, and plate gauntlets a ways off from her sister. Contaminated human blood, she knew, could be more dangerous than pure darkspawn blood.
She knelt gently next to her sister, smoothing her long black hair before hugging her. "May the Maker watch over your path." Bethany opened her mouth, and Hawke inserted the blade into the back of her neck, severing her spinal cord. Her sister took half a breath and went limp. It was the easiest death Hawke could imagine. She moved her arms to the outside of Bethany's back, away from any blood that she might have shed, still refusing to let her sister go, her silent convulsions shaking both their bodies.
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I Am At Your Side