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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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It was well after midday before the Hawke family stopped running. All morning, the monstrous cries of tainted creatures echoed throughout the cliffs around them, forcing Gabrielle to keep turning down small paths which led deeper into the canyon. The eldest of the Hawke children was aware they couldn’t go on much longer, but when Leandra began to stumble every few feet, Gabrielle felt she had little choice left in the matter. Although it was dangerous and against her better judgement, she knew they had to pause for a short rest.

The moment Gabrielle halted and held up her hand for the others to stop, her mother fell to her knees, panting with exertion. Bethany announced her displeasure by leaning against a large boulder and groaning while rubbing a knot from her sore calf. Carver, on the other hand, made his umbrage known in a more vocal manner.

“It’s about bloody time,” he groused as he bent at the waist and gripped his upper thighs.

Gabrielle was fed up with her brother’s poor attitude. He had been complaining for hours about being tired and hungry, and it just became progressively worse as the day went on. The apostate was at her wit’s end. No matter how far they ran, they seemed to be constantly surrounded on all sides by darkspawn, and Carver’s complaining was just adding to the tension. She placed her hands on her hips and whirled around to confront him.

“Shut it, Carver!” she seethed. “If you don’t stop your bitching, I swear to Andraste I’ll give you my fist in your mouth as your next meal.”

As usual, Carver glared at his sister in the light of her threat. His lapis eyes were full of acrimony and resentment as he stared daggers into hers. In defiance of Gabrielle’s authority, he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Bethany’s quiet voice.

“Gabs?” she asked. “I don’t mean to complain, but where are we going?”

“You mean other than away from the darkspawn?” her sister snapped.

Bethany cringed from the harshness of the other woman’s tone, and the older apostate immediately regretted turning on her sister. She knew it was the girl’s way of impeding the inevitable argument between her two siblings. Gabrielle usually recognized those attempts, but she was overly tired and worried which meant she wasn’t thinking clearly and acting on instinct more than anything else. She heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Bethie,” she apologized. “I’m just tired.”

Bethany shrugged, still looking like a shrinking violet. “It’s okay, Gabs. I understand.”

“The truth is…I have no bloody idea where we’re going or even where we are,” Gabrielle admitted.

“Of course you don’t,” Carver grumbled. “You couldn’t find your way out of our kitchen without help most days.” He scowled at the others. “Why in the Maker’s name are we letting her lead anyway?”

His older sister lifted her middle finger and scowled at him. “Fuck off, Carver!”

He was right, of course, but she wasn’t about to admit that fact, especially not to her prat brother. The truth was, Gabrielle was good at a lot of things…fire and force magics, hunting with a bow, fighting with her fists…but the one thing she could never quite get the hang of was navigating. She lived in Lothering for several years before she didn’t lose her way when she lost sight of the village’s landmarks.

Gabrielle placed her hands back onto her hips and scanned her surroundings. She spotted a small bush to her left, which she was sure they had already passed at least twice, before releasing a heavy breath. They were definitely going around in circles. In her attempts to evade the darkspawn, she had lost her bearings completely. At one point, they came to what she had been sure was the Imperial Highway and decided to follow it in the hope it would lead them toward Highever. Unfortunately, when she heard the darkspawn nearing again, she veered back off into the cliffs. Because of that, she found herself completely and hopelessly lost.

The apostate surveyed the immediate vicinity and observed three paths ahead, snaking off in different directions between the cliffs. Which one had they taken the last time? The middle? No, it was the one on the left. Or was it? She growled with frustration.

“Dear,” Leandra offered softly, “maybe you should let Carver try to lead us out.”

Of all the people for her mother to suggest to lead, Carver was the absolute worst choice. Gabrielle’s brother always had the fool notion in his head that the fact he was male meant he should be head of the family. Gabrielle disagreed with that sentiment. Just because he housed a set of balls between his legs didn’t automatically make him responsible for the well-being of everyone around him. Never once in his eighteen years had he shown one sign that he was willing to take charge of anything past his constantly running mouth and sulking expressions. His older sister wasn’t about to let him take the reins, especially in such dire circumstances. Not even for a second.

Gabrielle shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she refused.

“Wait,” Bethany told them as she lifted a hand in the air.

The younger apostate’s brow was creased from concentrating on something the rest of them were too busy arguing to see or hear. Her lids narrowed as she turned her face to her right in the attempts to discern whatever it was she had detected. The others waited in silence for her to make up her mind as to whether or not she chose to clue them in further.

“Did you hear that?” she finally asked.

Gabrielle listened closely, but the only thing she could detect at that moment was the sounds of the darkspawn closing in on them. Her first instinct was to tell the others to flee, but she was sure they would just end up in the same place again. Her poor sense of direction was even worse when she was panicked.

“I hear voices,” Bethany proclaimed. “Human voices.” She pointed to the trail on the right. “I think they’re coming from over there.”

“I don’t…” Gabrielle began, but before she could finish the sentence, Bethany took off toward the path. “Bethie! Wait!” she cried, but her sister was already between the two cliffs surrounding the passage.

It was unlike Bethany to act so impulsively. Other than when she was frightened or bothered by confrontation or loud noises, the girl was typically level-headed. What was she thinking taking off like that?

“Come on,” Gabrielle ordered as she beckoned the others to follow.

Several yards ahead of where the path veered into the cliffs, Gabrielle found her sister casting ice spells at darkspawn who had surrounded a man in templar armor. He was covered in thick, black ooze. His left arm was pushed against his abdomen while his right seemed to be struggling to maneuver the longsword it held.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a woman with flaming red hair appeared dressed in a heavy wool, ivory shirt covered by a long brown leather tunic vest. She charged at the creatures around the templar, kicking the one nearest to her in the chest and knocking it over. She then used the pommel of her longsword on the temple of another before running the blade through the monster’s gut.

Before the genlock was even free from her blade, she jerked her sword away, pivoted on the balls of her feet, and dove at the hurlock nearest the templar, toppling it to the ground with her. She threw her left leg over the beast’s chest, straddling it, before grabbing the sword she dropped next to her right knee and driving the end of the blade through the creature’s throat.

The female warrior then leapt to her feet and retrieved the templar’s shield from the nearby ground. She bashed another hurlock in the face with it before grabbing the templar’s arm and hauling him to his feet. Her chest and shoulders rose and fell with the effort of her heavy breathing as she sneered at the rest of the creatures.

“Get back you lot!” she warned, panting more from anger than exertion. “You won’t take him. Not today. Not on my watch.”

Her words seemed more of a challenge than a declarative statement as she used her own body and will as a human shield for the man who was now pressed to her back. Her bright green eyes dared the creatures to engage her as she held her sword at the ready. The darkspawn inched closer to her, but she held her ground.

She diverted her eyes from her enemies long enough to address the man she intended to protect with her very life. There was a sad, longing determination in her gaze as she spoke to him, making the love she felt for the templar unmistakable.

“They won’t get near you,” she vowed. “Not while these lungs still draw breath.”

Gabrielle called a minuscule ball of flame into each of her palms. With expert precision, she began to fuse the two small fires together, creating a substantially larger blaze. As she pulled her hands apart, the sphere grew until it was so massive in size that it hid the better part of her form behind it.

“Move!” she shouted as a warning to the couple.

The creatures had turned their attention to her and were beginning to advance. With a brisk flick of her wrists, she flipped her palms forward and used force magic to send the spell hurtling at the beasts. As it gathered momentum, the flame grew so large that, when it finally found its targets, it lit the entire party of darkspawn on fire. The creatures screeched in agony as they began falling to the ground one after the next in stinking, burning heaps.

In the interim, the templar had fallen to his knees and Bethany hurried over to tend his wounds. Even with the sword and flame emblem emblazoned upon the man’s chest glaring in her eyes, the young woman didn’t hesitate even a moment to run to the templar’s aid. Although Malcolm had warned his children time and again to beware the Chantry knights, the healer in her wouldn’t allow him to suffer. She knelt down at his side to check the extent of his injuries, but instead of finding gratitude, he held out his hand to order her to stop.

“Keep your distance, apostate,” he protested. “You will not touch me with your vile magic.”

“I only want to help,” Bethany told him with a kind and reassuring smile.

The templar sneered at the healer as he struggled to find his feet. “To help control my mind, you mean.”

He stared the girl down with a threatening glare in his deep brown eyes. He then lifted his sword toward the woman. The end of the weapon quaked, making it clear to everyone the effort it took for him to continue gripping the hilt with his shaking hand. Gabrielle removed her father’s staff from her back and stepped between her sister and the templar.

“You may have the power to negate my magic, templar,” the small woman acknowledged through narrowed lids. “But I am much stronger than I look, and I swear to you, if you lay one finger on my sister or take even one step more toward her, you will die by my hand.”

The templar’s sword wavered in the air. He was losing his grip by the second. In one swift motion, Gabrielle used her staff to knock the weapon from his hand and into the dirt with a clatter. She placed the sharp points of the head of the stave at his throat and gave it a gentle push until they were biting into his flesh. Within seconds, she felt the tip of a blade at the side of her own neck.

“And if you draw any blood from him,” she heard the redheaded woman say, “You will repay it in kind with your own.”

The apostate pulled her staff back, but only an inch or so and glowered up at the man standing before her. “You know, most people say ‘thank you’ when someone else saves their lives. But I guess they never taught you that in templar school.”

“First, I’ll thank you to back away from my husband,” the female warrior said. ”Then we’ll talk about any gratitude I might have for your saving our lives.”

As upset as Gabrielle was at finding herself in such a precarious situation, she was more angry with Carver for just standing back with his thumb up his ass. It was so very typical of her brother to do nothing to aid the family, especially her. The redhead had the upper hand in the situation. As soon as the apostate made a move with her stave, the warrior could shove that blade into her throat. The most Gabrielle could do was injure the templar before she found a hole in her neck. Still, she wasn’t about to give in without some sort of fight. It just wasn’t in her.

“As soon as you take that nug-sticker off my neck,” she proposed. “I’ll let your templar go.”

“We can play this all day,” the woman retorted. “But I think we both know who holds the advantage here. The choice is simple. Either back off or I’ll take your head.”

As stubborn as Gabrielle was, she wasn’t stupid. There were days when she could argue for hours that the sky was purple if she had a mind to and never relent her position, even when she knew she was wrong. The cold steel against her neck, however, propelled her to desist. She took a step back, but kept both her staff and her magic at the ready. The redhead dropped the blade of her weapon to her side, but she did not sheathe it. The two women had formed an uneasy truce between them, which would last only until one or the other threatened their adversary’s loved ones.

“I am Aveline Vallen,” the warrior told them then tilted her head to the templar. “This is my husband, Ser Wesley.”

Gabrielle didn’t really give a damn who the woman or her husband were. She was still furious. Nobody threatened her family, especially her sister.

“What in the void is a templar doing out here in the middle of nowhere anyway? I thought any left in Lothering would have died defending the village in the attack last night. Or did you decide tracking down apostates was a worthier goal than saving people’s lives?” She folded her arms over her flat chest. “Or maybe you’re just a chicken shit.”

Wesley sighed with irritation in an obvious attempt to keep his composure. “If you must know, I was never in Lothering. I was travelling to Denerim on business for the Order, but I had to turn south when I heard of Ostagar.”

“My husband’s an honorable man, but his lack of judgement and foresight astounds me at times,” Aveline confessed. “We met on the Merchant’s Path and were making our way northeast to Denerim.”

Damn! I guess we were headed south.

The warrior sheathed her sword as an offering of peace. Gabrielle’s staff remained prepared for battle. She didn’t trust anyone that much when it came to her family, especially not a templar. In the apostate’s eyes, Aveline was no better than her husband, simply a physical extension of the man’s twisted beliefs about magic and those who wielded it.

“I think it would behoove us all to stick together,” the redhead suggested. “At least until we get out of the darkspawns’ path.”

Gabrielle’s right brow arced with confused bewilderment. The woman was barking mad if she thought anyone in her family would be escorted anywhere by a templar. She had spent her entire life running away from his ilk. The apostate was about to announce her denial of such a travesty of an idea, when she felt her sister’s light grip on her bicep.

“Gabs,” the girl said in a soft voice. “It’s alright. I trust them not to hurt us.”

The innocence and worry in Bethany’s brown eyes softened the elder apostate’s ire. She would never understand how the girl could remain so innocent and naïve in such a cruel world. She wondered if she should be proud or ashamed of herself for shielding her sister so much from the worst mankind had to offer. Still, she had a difficult time saying no. Gabrielle gave her younger sibling a sad smile.

“Alright, Bethie,” she reluctantly agreed before turning her attention back to Aveline. “I only have one question, though.”

“And what is that?” the redhead asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Given your husband’s obvious distaste for me and my family, why in the Maker’s name would you want to travel with us?” Gabrielle inquired with suspicion. “Is it your intention to try to turn us into the Chantry when we finally reach civilization again?”

“Another blade would come in handy, sister,” her brother interjected.

“Nobody was asking you, Carver” Gabrielle admonished.

“The truth is,” Aveline clarified. “There are only two of us and Wesley is injured. We will never make it out of this alive on our own.” She looked over at Leandra. “And I daresay that you can use all the help you can get. Maybe we can all keep our heads intact if we stick together.”

“You still didn’t answer my question,” the apostate reminded her. “Either you give your oath to let us go our separate ways at the end of this little alliance you’re proposing, or we take our chances on our own.” She tilted her head to Wesley. “Given your husband’s injuries means you’re down to one blade between the two of you. I’d say I’m the one who holds the advantage here. Wouldn’t you?”

Aveline gave a terse nod and offered her hand to the apostate. “I give you my word,” she vowed. “When this is over, we will not impede your departure.” She regarded her husband with warning flashing in her green eyes. “Neither of us will.”

Gabrielle remained wary, but she saw no hint of a lie in the other woman’s eyes. Although Aveline was only one more person and Wesley would surely slow them down, the apostate knew they could use the warrior’s aid. She would just have to trust the redhead was a woman of her word as she grasped Aveline’s wrist to seal their partnership.

“It might be nice to know whose lives we’re putting our hands in, however,” the warrior reasoned.

“My name’s Gabrielle. Gabrielle Hawke.” The apostate pointed to the members of her family in turn as she revealed their names. “This is my sister, Bethany, and my mother, Leandra. And that prat is my little brother, Carver.”

“Hawke, huh?” Aveline mulled over the name. “Short and to the point.” Carver chuckled which earned a glare from his sister while Aveline chose to ignore the exchange. “Very Ferelden. It suits you. Better than Gabrielle anyhow.”

“You can call me whatever you want as long as you can help us figure a way out of this shithole,” Gabrielle drawled.

“North is cut off,” she informed them. “We barely escaped the main body of the horde when we were forced to turn back.”

So we were headed north, then?

“But the Wilds are to the south,” Carver interrupted with a distraught scowl. “There are witches there.”

“Don’t wet yourself, Carver” Gabrielle chided. “Anyway, I thought you were excited about joining the king’s army so you could fight darkspawn. I had to listen to you bitch about it enough for the past month. Did you lose your stomach for it?”

“Fuck off, Gabby,” he mumbled.

“Well, unless you’re willing to take on the horde all by yourself, we’re going south,” his sister said flatly. “But that’s entirely up to you.”

Gabrielle picked up her foot to walk away, and realized she had no idea which direction south was. She placed her foot back on the ground and shuffled the dirt with the toe of her boot in the hopes no one else noticed her hesitation or embarrassment. Everyone stood in uneasy silence for what seemed like an eternity with the cries of the darkspawn closing in on them. When she could no longer bear the worry and the fear creeping up inside her, the apostate turned her attention to Aveline.

“After you,” she proffered with a small wave of her hand.

Aveline presented her with a nod and began walking in the opposite direction Gabrielle would have taken. She would never tell the other woman, but she was grateful to have someone there who obviously possessed both leadership skills and navigational ability. She let Aveline get a few yards ahead of her before she began moving.

The warrior’s strides were long and determined, and Gabrielle’s legs were so short that she found herself needing to jog a bit to keep up. They went along in reticence for a time, listening to ensure the darkspawn weren’t gaining on their position, but it was difficult to determine the distance of the creatures due to the way the noise echoed off the cliffs. After a while, Bethany fell in next to her sister.

“So where are we going?” she whispered. “I mean after we get away from these darkspawn. If this is a Blight, there isn’t going to be anywhere safe in Ferelden.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “I don’t know, Bethie. I’m just trying to get us out of any immediate danger.” Her sister’s lower lip disappeared between her teeth and her brow furrowed. “I know that look. You have an idea, but you’re afraid to tell me.” Bethany shrugged. “You know I’ll listen to anything you have to say, sister.”

“Alright,” she finally sighed. “Mother seems to think we should go to Kirkwall.”

Gabrielle flinched. “Kirkwall? Do you know how many templars are in Kirkwall? Dad always said the Gallows was the worst Circle in all of Thedas.”

Her sister’s shoulders sagged. “I know. I guess it was a stupid idea.”

“It wasn’t stupid…not really.” Gabrielle was trying to find her mother’s reasoning in the suggestion, and wondering why Bethany would ever agree. “But why Kirkwall of all places?”

“Mother says we still have family there. And an estate.”

The older mage exhaled a long, exasperated breath. Maybe their mother was right. It seemed that things in Ferelden were only going to get worse. All Gabrielle knew for certain was that she had to protect her family. Perhaps if they were considered nobility, that would keep the templars at bay. Maybe they could even buy their way out of the Gallows. She peered over at Bethany who was staring at her with an anxious frown.

“The closest port to the Wilds is Gwaren,” she relented. “We’ll board a ship there.”

A grin brightened Bethany’s face. “It’ll be fine, Gabs. You’ll see. We’ll be real noble ladies, just like mother was. We’ll attend balls and parties and have tons of suitors asking for our hands in marriage.”

“Of course we will, Bethie” Gabrielle agreed with a half-hearted smile. “It’ll be great.”

Internally, however, Gabrielle was far from convinced. She would never tell her sister that, of course, but she knew nothing was ever that simple, especially for their family. As Bethany prattled on about dresses and fancy dinner parties, Gabrielle worried, just as she had always done. She was certain her father would have been extremely unhappy to find out she was taking her family to the one place in Thedas he swore was the void itself, but she just couldn’t see any other options.

I’m sorry, Dad.

Gabs was always getting lost. I swear she couldn’t find her way from the bed chambers to the privy without getting turned around at least twice. She could get lost just reaching across the dinner table. That, coupled with the fact that she was the most stubborn person I ever met, made for some interesting stories sometimes. I teased her many times over the years about her being the only woman I ever met that would literally argue with a rock. She would smile and tell me it was a family trait passed down by our father. Thankfully it was a trait that seemed to skip over me. Although, my family would be inclined to disagree with that sentiment.

Aveline was a great warrior and an honorable woman. I had a lot of respect for her but she was one of the most serious people I ever met. Of course that just meant I had to try even harder to get her flustered after I got to know her a bit.

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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight