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Free as a Bird	By : Letticiae Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9737 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor do I own the characters. I do not make money/profit from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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A/N: Lvl34Potato, I'm so glad you're still reading and enjoying this fic! I'm uploading four more chapters right now, ok? ;)

"Why do you doubt me? Because I'm an elf I can't be her defender? Are you saying elves can only be servants? Do I look like a servant to you?" Hawke heard Fenris' husky voice arguing in a menacing tone with the guard on watch. Seconds later the elven warrior was before her.
He spared a glance in Hawke's direction and looked away as bad memories flooded his mind. That horrible cell was too much like the ones the magisters put their slaves in when they were to be punished. Maker, she shouldn't be in a place like that. He stared at his feet hoping his stomach would stop turning and he would be able to look around again without cringing.
She noticed his discomfort and hesitation and reached a hand between the bars to cradle his face. "It's good to see you. I was afraid you weren't going to come…" she said, hoping to comfort him so he wouldn't leave.
If her caress weren't so gentle and soft, he would have flinched. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, forgetting for a few moments that awful place. Suddenly realization hit him. His eyes snapped open and he moved away from her. What was he doing? He was the one supposed to be offering her comfort, not the other way around. She was jailed in that deplorable cell, not him.
"What's wrong?" she breathed out tiredly.
"I'm sorry," he uttered. "This place is… I didn't think it would be…"
"Let me guess. This reminds you of Tevinter and you don't want to be here."
He didn't know what to say. She had seen right through him.
His silence was confirmation enough. "You can go. If I ever get out I'll stop by your place, we'll drink wine and pretend this never happened while I listen to you rant about how horrible mages are. You do know why I'm here, right? But I bet that didn't change your opinion on templars…" she rambled, upset. Why did she want him to be there anyway?
There was an instant of uncomfortable silence and then she started again. "Shit. Fenris, I'm sorry. I'm just so… angry. It's not your fault. I have not been sleeping well and I can't even stand straight in here," she let out a frustrated growl. "I never got to see Bethany. Am I supposed to believe what the others tell me? This uncertainty is maddening."
"I… understand. Your sister is a good person, a good… mage. That should not have happened to her." His gaze remained steady on his feet.
It must not have been easy for him to say that and she would've appreciated it more if she weren't in such a foul mood.
"The dwarf said we are not to talk to you about… that. He thinks you spend too much time alone in here beating yourself up because of what happened to your sister and we are supposed to distract you."
I wish it was that simple, she thought. "Do you not agree with him?"
"I am here for you, Hawke. We can talk about whatever you want. And if you want quiet, I can just keep you company."
"I want you to look at me. Or is it too hard?" she asked, wanting to provoke him, but her voice came out low and sad, making it sound more like a plea. It broke his heart.
He forced himself to look at her, so pale, thin and weary, with matted hair and slumped shoulders. Nothing like that fierce, unpredictable, stubborn Hawke that had knocked him over at the Deep Roads so she would be the one to slay the dragon attacking them. This woman was broken and the templars were to blame. When they had hurt Bethany they had also destroyed Hawke. He imagined how the mage was dealing with that situation – living locked up in the place where she had been tortured and raped with one of the men that had done that to her. For the first time in his life Fenris thought that maybe some mages deserved better than being imprisoned for life. The Circles gave the templars too much power over them and people having that much power over others was never a good thing.
She reached between the bars to squeeze his hand and, Maker, he felt so bad for her. He had to endure that horrible prison; he had to be there for her.
They sat down on the floor with their backs leaning against the stone wall, side by side, as close as they could with those iron bars between them and stayed there enjoying each other's company as much as it was possible in a place like that. He held her hand in his most of the time, letting go only to stroke her cheek or brush some stubborn strand of hair out of her face while they talked, until the guard on watch came over to throw him out.
"Please… just five more minutes?" Hawke asked.
The guard scowled but conceded and returned to his post.
"I have something for you." She passed the Book of Shartan through the bars and handed it to Fenris.
"It… It's a book," he said.
"Merrill gave it to me, to pass time while I'm in here. Turns out I have a lot of free time," she smiled. "I thought about you many times while I was reading it and I want you to have it. I think you're going to like it."
He held the thick tome awkwardly in his hands, as if it was covered in something gross and he didn't want to touch it.
What doesn't offend this elf? Hawke thought, rolling her eyes. She took a deep, calming breath and tried again. "It's by Shartan, the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You know about him, right?"
He got up abruptly. "Of course I know about him. What do you take me for?" he replied, his tone bitter and spiteful.
"Then I take it you're not a fan. Is there anything you like, Fenris? Anyone you admire? Or hate is all you know?" She was tired of his tantrums and wanted to know if she was fighting a long lost battle. If that was the case, she would give up right now. There was too much in her head already and she didn't want to add worrying about being yelled at for trying to be nice.
"Uh… I…" he staggered. Although her question felt almost like a slap on the face, oddly enough, he also enjoyed it. It proved the Hawke he knew was still in there, hidden beneath those defeated eyes. "They don't teach slaves how to read. I never learned," he finally said.
Oh? Of course. She should have thought of that, but, still… "You haven't been a slave for years." As matter of fact, for almost six years now. More than enough time to learn.
"And? Am I not learning your ways quickly enough to suit you?" he spat.
Right. Lost battle. Stop fighting, she told herself.
He sighed heavily. "You are not responsible for my deficiencies. I do appreciate your gift."
"Really? I could never tell! I wonder how you'd have reacted if you had hated it then," she said sarcastically. "I don't feel like putting up with mood swings right now, Fenris. See," she waved her arms around her, "isn't this shitty enough as it is? Do you think I need to take more crap from you or anyone else?"
"I –"
"Guard! We are done here. Please help this man find his way out," she shouted.
Fenris left, taking the book with him and feeling utterly furious at himself. It would be a whole week before he could visit her again. None of the others would want to switch with him so he could get back there earlier, they all wanted to see her too. He would have to wait and, hopefully, in the meantime, he would find a way to make it up to her for his behavior.

"I am her defender," she heard Sebastian say and this time there was no argument. The guard was convinced right away by the prince's impeccable posture, fine clothes and unwavering voice.
"Hawke." He would ask how she was, but just by looking at her he realized it was a stupid question. "I can take your confession if you're ready to repent," he said instead.
"You've got to be kidding me, Choir Boy! Repent? For murdering one of the men who abused and tortured my sister?"
"Many are those who wander in sin, despairing that they are lost forever," he started reciting a verse of the Chant of Light he thought it was appropriate to her situation.
"Sebastian," she called.
He continued, "But the one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight In the Maker's law and creations, she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction."
"Sebastian!" she insisted, raising her voice. "Let me stop you right there. If that's why you're here, you can go. And tell Varric to change the visiting schedule. I can't have you and Fenris on consecutive days. I need a break," she huffed, from the frustrating men, she muttered under her breath.
"I thought repentance might bring you comfort," he said in earnest.
"You really don't know me, then. I'm more a revenge kind of person. Like you," she retorted, a smug look on her face.
"I'm looking for justice, not revenge," he replied.
"Right. Who was the defender again on the Flint Company trial? Remind me not hire that guy…"
"Point taken," he sighed. "I can hear your confession for your other sins, then, if you'd like."
"Have I been sentenced to death and they didn't inform me? Or you're just curious to know my dirty secrets?" she teased.
"No, of course not," he hastily answered, blushing. "It's just that you dated Cullen for over a year and not once you accompanied him to the Chantry. I have never seen you pray or confess."
"That's because I never pray, let alone confess."
"You do not believe in the Maker?"
"Hmm… I didn't use to believe, but I witnessed something in the Vimmark Mountains that got me thinking…"
"A miracle?"
"More like a tragedy," she smirked. "But it made me think there might have been a Maker once out there."
"There is still. He –"
"Just turned his back on us because we don't love him enough? Spare me, Choir Boy."

Hawke was counting the scratches she had made on the stone wall – her improvised calendar. It was Fenris' day to visit. Despite their argument the previous week, she found herself hoping he would show. There was something about him… she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it made her feel drawn to him somehow.
"Hawke." The elf's unmistakable voice resonated in her tiny cell. "We are supposed to bring you food," he said, handing her a small sack through the iron bars.
"I hate Anders. I'm not some charity case," she complained, but took the sack anyway. "Ooh! Apples!" she exclaimed and he laughed at her childish excitement.
She took a huge bite in a ripe, juicy apple and was reveling in its fresh flavor when she noticed the blasted Book of Shartan in his hands. "Why did you bring that?" she asked, not bothering to swallow the chunks of fruit in her mouth first.
"I always wanted to learn more of Shartan… and I was wondering… if you would teach me how to read…"
Her eyes widened in surprise and for a second there he was afraid of how she was going to react. But then her face was lit by wide smile. "Sure! Want to start right now?"
"Uh… yes."
She grabbed her writing material and sat on the floor, beckoning him to sit down by her side. Without chairs and a table and with the iron bars of her cell between them it was uncomfortable, but he was as intent to learn as she was on teaching him, so they bore with it.

Hawke had written her sister at first. Since all mail that was to or from mages was opened and checked by the templars, Hawke had sent her letters through unofficial means. She got only one reply. With words carefully chosen not to hold any other meaning if the letter fell into templars' hands, Bethany said that for their own safety they shouldn't write to each other anymore. It was just that, but it was enough to make Hawke's already broken heart sink, because she realized fear was all life held for her little sister as long as she remained in the Circle.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months while Hawke was in jail, waiting for trial. Varric and Isabela didn't break her out because she had promised Aveline she would try to make things right this time, within the law. Being friends with the Guard Captain, her escape from prison would be disastrous to the guardswoman career and reputation. At least that was what she said to convince her companions to let her rot in peace in that awful place. Deep inside she felt like she deserved being there – not for murdering Ser Karras, of course, but for letting Bethany's life be ruined and for failing horribly everyone she had ever loved. In prison she was probably doing less harm to those close to her.
Aveline was always assigning different guards as jailors so they wouldn't get too suspicious when every day a different person showed up there claiming to be Hawke's defender. This way, the whole time she was imprisoned not even one day went by without one of her friends visiting. On some of these days she was completely unresponsive to their presence; on others, she was angry and picking fights with them. Sometimes she would make polite conversation, maybe fake a smile and even crack a joke and force a laugh. However the only times her smile would really meet her eyes were during Fenris' visits, while she was teaching him to read and write. She would get so involved in their lessons that for a couple of hours she would forget everything else.
Six months had gone by since her arrest. Her mother had tried to visit, but at Hawke's request Aveline told Leandra it was impossible. The prisoner didn't want her mother to see her in that deplorable state. It would only make the old woman suffer more.
Hawke's birthday passed without anyone acknowledging it. Anders had been the one to visit her that day, but she hadn't mentioned anything. There had been nothing to celebrate anyway. Worried about the beginning of the cold season, he had brought her an extra blanket, health potions and medicinal herbs. Her unwholesome cell, damp and made of stone and iron would also be freezing soon and he knew even a simple flu could become fatal in that poor condition she was in. His concern and kindness had been good enough gifts for her and, in the end, she thought it had been a birthday better than she had deserved.
By now, she had lost count of how many books she had read, from the History of the Chantry to the most unholy books in Thedas – Isabela had brought her a fine selection of the latter. Also she had been spending more time than she was willing to admit talking to a small potted plant Merrill had given her.
That was exactly what she was doing when Varric arrived for his weekly visit. "So, did you name it yet?" he asked.
"Not 'it', dwarf. Her. Her name is Claudette."
"She's Orlesian?" he shook his head. "That's it. To the Void with Aveline. I'm breaking you out tonight."
"There's no need, Varric. Her trial is next month," the Guard Captain said, coming over to meet them.
"Fine, but if it – I mean, Claudette starts answering you, I won't wait another day. I'll get you out," the storyteller uttered, giving Hawke a warning look.
"Someone must have pulled some strings for you, Hawke. We have prisoners here that have been waiting for a trial for over a year," the guardswoman remarked. She turned to the dwarf raising a questioning brow. "Varric?"
"No, not me," he answered.
"Who, then? I have no friends among Kirkwall's magistrates…" Hawke said and as the words came out of her mouth, realization hit her. "Fuck! Vanard!"
"Shit! If he took your case, you'll only leave this place dead. He'll make sure of that," Varric said.
"You don't need to tell me that. Damn!" That was not a good way to die. She couldn't give that corrupt man the satisfaction of having his revenge.
"I'll look into it. If it's really Vanard who's behind this… I'll see what I can do," Aveline uttered. Looking worried, she left.
Varric waited until she was out of sight and then spoke, "Hawke, just say the word and we'll break you out. Rivaini, Daisy and Blondie are ready to help me storm this place since day one."
"If my choices are being a fugitive or death, I choose being a fugitive. Vanard won't have me. But let's give Aveline some time to get to the bottom of this." She was silent for a moment before adding with a tired, sad sigh, "There has to be a better way out of here…"
Varric looked down so she wouldn't see the sadness and frustration in his eyes. Watching her wasting away in that place was heartbreaking. She was looking worse than usual that day – paler, weaker, and now she had started coughing…
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
Everything, he thought, but decided it was best not to talk about it right now. She surely was miserable enough already and could do without any more gloominess. "I have interesting news for you," he changed the subject. "Lord Harimann passed away. I attended his cremation."
"Not to pay your respects, I presume."
"All Kirkwall's nobility would be there and I thought it was a good opportunity to find clues on who hired the Flint Company to murder the Vaels."
"And?"
"His wife and kids didn't show up. There was no one to take his ashes in the end."
"Weird."
"I agree. There's something there."
"Did you tell Sebastian?"
He shook his head. "You tell him, Hawke. He gets on my nerves. What do you two talk about when he comes here? I didn't want to include him in the visiting schedule. I was afraid he might bore you to death. But he insisted. I saved a day for him just so he would shut up."
"If you want to know, most of the time he spends trying to turn me into a devout Andrastian."
"By the stone, he can't even try to be fun? Ever?"
"It's fun for me. I tease him, shock him by saying some sacrilegious stuff and then we argue. It beats being ignored by Claudette," she shrugged.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you, Hawke, I'm going to kill this plant."
"That would be a shame! I thought Bianca and her could be friends…"
"Bianca would never wan– Oh! I see what you're doing. Fine! Talk to your weed then!"
"Hey! Don't call her that!"
"What kind of plant is she anyway?"
"I don't know. She's still young. Merrill said there were different seeds in the pot and that she had put a spell on it. It would sprout the one that matched my personality best."
"Hmm… I'm sure no gentle flower is coming out of there, then."
"Varric!"
"What? It's true. It's probably a cactus…"
"Hey! That's harsh! And she doesn't look like a cactus!"
A fly came in through the window and landed in one of the small leaves. Varric and Hawke held their breaths as they intently watched the plant. Nothing happened and after a few moments the fly left unharmed.
"Well, I didn't think she looked like a carnivore either," Hawke observed.
"I guess we'll have to wait longer to find out," the dwarf said.

A couple of days later Aveline came back with some bad news for Hawke. "Vanard really is the magistrate in your trial. Cullen and Keran promised to testify in your favor, but I don't think that will be enough. I'm afraid nothing will," the Guard Captain uttered in a somber tone.
Hawke was curled into a ball on her lousy mattress and did not answer.
"However, Seneschal Bran came over today, asking questions about you. Apparently the Viscount has some business he wants to deal with you about personally. Depending on how important this business is… maybe it could be a way out of here," the warrior continued, but still she got no reaction from Hawke. She gave the prisoner a closer look and noticed she was shivering. "Hawke? Hawke!"
Her only reaction was mumbling something incoherent.
"Guardsman Walton! Open this cell right now. Come on! Double time!" Aveline called the jailor on duty.
The man rushed over, nervously fumbling with his bunch of keys, trying to find the correct one. Fenris was right behind him.
"No reading lesson for you today, elf. Go get Anders," Aveline ordered.
"What is going on? Is she okay?" he asked, worried.
"No, she's not! Get Anders. Now!" the guardswoman yelled.
The cell was finally open and Aveline hurried inside. She turned Hawke on her back and placed a hand on her forehead. It was damp with sweat and burning up, so she asked the guard for a basin filled with water and a cloth and hoped Anders would arrive soon.
When he got there Aveline ordered the guard to return to his post so the mage could work freely and undisturbed.
Anders hastily knelt by Hawke's side and started examining her. There was a lot of fumbling with her and magic sparkling before he finally talked to the two warriors who had been anxiously looking over his shoulder as he worked.
"It's colder in here than it is outside. She's been without sun and exercise for over six months. The food you serve, she barely eats it and the ceiling is so low, she can't even stand straight," the healer spoke. "It's no surprise she's sick. I knew this was going to happen." He turned back to Hawke and gently caressed her cheekbone. Because of her weight loss, it was more pronounced than usual. It pained him to see her like that.
"This is a prison, not some fancy inn by the beach. There's only so much I can do for her without compromising my –" the Guard Captain started.
"It's clearly not enough. She could've escaped but stayed for you, Aveline. If she dies in here… so help me!" he exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair.
"The Viscount is coming to talk to her tomorrow and it's possible he'll grant her amnesty. He has the power to do it. If there's a chance she might leave here a free woman instead of a fugitive, we have to take it," she tried to explain.
"She might not survive until tomorrow," he snapped.
"Then I have no other choice," she said, a stern look on her face. "Anders, you are under arrest for… unlicensed medical practice*. You are going to stay with her and make sure she'll be fine." Quickly, she pushed Fenris out, closed the cell door and turned the key that was hanging in the lock.
"What?" Blue light immediately began to glow as Anders' skin seemed to crack.
"You better calm down, mage. If this demon of yours takes over and you hurt her I will rip your heart out," Fenris snarled angrily.
It took the healer some time but he returned to his normal self. "I would never!" he replied, breathing heavily.
"When she gets better I'll dismiss the charges and let you out," Aveline added. "Make a list of everything you need to heal her and we'll get it."
The mage took a deep, steadying breath, trying to take in everything that had just happened and concentrate on making the list.
Fenris wanted to stay and make sure Hawke would be fine and the abomination wouldn't take advantage of her, but Aveline dragged him with her to help her get the supplies the mage had asked for. Not that the elf was really needed for that task, but if he stayed he could get in a fight with Anders and without anyone to calm their nerves, things surely wouldn't turn out well.

When Hawke woke up, every muscle in her body was aching horribly, yet she was feeling much warmer and comfortable than usual. She tried to move but something was holding her tight in place. Someone, to be more exact. He was sitting down on her mattress, cradling her in his arms, holding her against his chest. She placed a hand on his chest and could feel the slow, deep breathing of this someone sound asleep, with his head leaning against the wall. The sane thing to do would be jumping to her feet, demanding an explanation, calling the jailor, but she was actually feeling so safe and protected in those arms. Could it be Fenris? And then she noticed she was wearing different clothes, clean ones, and the sweat and grime was gone from her skin. She wondered for how long she had been out. Maybe she was not in prison anymore… Straining her eyes to see in the darkness, she took in her surroundings. Stone walls, check. Good for nothing window, check. Rusty iron bars, check. Damn it!
Her hand trailed lightly from his chest to his face. Stubble. Not Fenris, she thought, disappointed. "Elves don't grow beards," she remembered him telling Varric. Could it be Cullen? Oh, no. Finally she found the strength to jump to her feet, causing the man to wake up startled.
"Anders!" She realized who it was and let out a relieved sigh.
It took him a few moments to recognize where he was and he rubbed his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. Thank you."
"I'm sorry. I should have slept on the floor, but –"
"It's fine. Why are you in here? And in the middle of the night?"
"You were very sick and Aveline sent for me. I was afraid you might not make it through the night. She arrested me so I would take care of you."
"That reluctant, huh?"
"No! That didn't come out right. I would have done it anyway, but I wanted to get you out. Of course she found it better to keep me here instead. Still, I could have gotten out if wanted to. This cell can't hold me. Can't hold you either."
She smiled sadly. "True." Almost every night, after the guard on watch fell asleep she would pick the lock and go out in the corridor for a couple of minutes to stretch her legs. Remembering this, she touched her pockets. Shit! These were not the clothes she had been wearing.
"Don't worry. Your tools are safe. I hid them before handing your old clothes to Aveline."
"Thank you," she let out a relieved sigh. It felt so good having someone care this much for her… Was it bad that she was wishing he would stay there with her? Well, maybe it was best to wish they would be together somewhere else… Damn! Not him, she scolded herself inwardly for being so needy. He threw you out of his bed. Or did you forget that already?

*I know unlicensed medical practice wouldn't be a crime in DA time, but I found it would be funny.
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Free as a Bird