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champion of vengeance

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sydnie.cherie

Super-Earth
Joined
Aug 27, 2011
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REGULAR PEOPLEViLLE
"Ten long years." Varric whistled, his hands in the pocket of his brown duster as they stood on a hill or small mountain overlooking the disaster that was Kirkwall. The smoke rising from the Gallows rose to form an ominous black cloud over the area. Hawke's electric blue eyes stayed glued to that cloud, reliving the battle that had been waged.

All of those people...templars and mages...the Grand Cleric...

"Oh it was fun, wasn't it?" Isabela said, attempting to lend some comic relief to the situation and failing horribly. She shrank into silence as Hawke turned her head slightly, casting a pointed look in her direction. "Too soon?"

"Too soon." Hawke replied, returned her gaze to the smoky horizon.

"Are you truly ready to leave it all behind?" Fenris asked. Hawke took a deep breath and turned her back on the only home she had known for the last decade.

"There is nothing left for me here." She laid eyes on each of her companions: Merrill, the elven maleficar. Isabela, the pirate. Fenris, the freed Teviniter slave. Varric, the smooth talking dwarf. Aveline, the captain of the guard.

Anders...

Everything that happened between them in the last few years flashed before her eyes. His trying to protect her from himself, his finally giving in to her persistence, his moving in with her. His lying, his deceit, his vengeance. Hawke wasn't one for speechlessness, but found herself utterly without words at the moment. Instead she turned towards the ship belonging to Isabela that awaited them somewhere on the Wounded Coast and started walking.
 
He had done what needed to be done.

At least he hoped so...

Anders was standing behind the group, none of them speaking to him right now. His mind was full of... everything, justice, Justice, magic, death, name it, and it was jumping about in his thoughts. His hand gripped hard enough in his staff for his knuckles to become white. He wanted all of this to be over with. Even death he wouldn't mind.

He looked back once, then closed his eyes and shook his head. They had seen many deaths this and the last few years, but today had been more then all that had passed. He looked back towards the group, and despite not wanting to, his eyes landed on Hawke.

Hawke...
He had warned her, but she'd gone through anyways. He had asked her, no, used her to get the things he needed for the final ritual, with lies, and deceit. Maybe he should have told her, then she could have helped him, or killed him before this all could happen. But even when she had her suspicions, she still went through, and even after he blew up the chantry, she still didn't leave him, she still helped him.
 
"So where are we going now?" Merrill asked, turning her back on the porthole she'd been staring through for over ten minutes as the group sat below deck on the ship. The atmosphere was tense, no one making eye contact or speaking unless spoken to.

"Back to Ferelden." Hawke responded after a while, straightening from the position she'd been in with her elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands.

"Why are we going back to Ferelden?" Isabela asked, catching the tail end of the conversation as she came down the stairs from checking on her crew above deck.

"I need..." Hawke lifted her arm and ran her fingers through choppy black hair, not used to the miniscule weight of her limbs without armor. "I need to go back to where it all began."

"To Lothering? What are you going to do in Lothering?" Aveline asked.

"I don't know." Hawke stared at the still armor clad woman, her exasperation at being questioned evident in the tension of her shoulders. She had spent the last ten years looking after other people. She had felt like she had an obligation to everyone in her party, to all of Kirkwall. She'd grown weary of the burden and simply wanted to think about herself for a while. "I want to visit the graves of my father, and Carver if he has one." She offered in the way of explanation, though there was so much more to it than that.

"Okay, then to Ferelden we go. I'm with you, Hawke." Aveline replied, to which the rest of the group voiced their agreement. Hawke attempted to smile, the corners of her mouth jerking slightly as she stood and nodded to them as one. She turned her head, meeting the eyes of the man she loved.

"Thank you for giving me your quarters." Hawke said to Isabela, ripping her attention away from Anders as she started up the stairs.

"Anything for you, sweet thing." Isabela winked at her, to which Hawke simply raised a brow, shook her head, and walked away. Her destimation, the captain's quarters above deck.
 
His eyes followed her every move, unless she, or anyone else, would look his way, then he would look at a torch, or something. He knew at least Aveline hated him for what he did, so did Fenris. He couldn't really get a height of Merril, never had, though she seemed cheerful most of the time. Varric and Isabela were the only ones who didn't mind, Isabela had just nearly forgot it, and Varric was just saying how good the tale about it would be.

At the notice they were going back to Ferelden he nodded to himself, he had already thought so. He hoped they could stay far out of the way of any chantry or the circle of magi. The entire continent probably knew about him by now. But of course, he couldn't choose. Beggars can't be choosers, and though he hadn't begged, he was lucky, or at least part of him was lucky, she left him alive.

Several minutes after Hawke left, not wanting to look suspicious, he stood up, and walked after her. Leaving his staff against a wall he walked over to her cabin, wanting to finally get to have a talk with her, though it wouldn't be nice. He raised his hand, brought it closer to the door... and stopped, he just couldn't do it. Resting his hand against the door for a while, he walked away, downstairs once more, towards Isabela, leaning against the wall next to her "How do you do that?" He asked. After the 'do what?" She'd quite possibly ask him, or out of himself, he added "Be so relaxed under all this, it's like you don't even care."
 
Hawke stood with her back against the door, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. She hadn't had time to mourn when her father had died, she'd had to take control of the family. She hadn't had time to mourn Carver, they were too busy fleeing the Darkspawn horde. When Bethany had died they'd had to leave her body behind in the Deep Roads, never getting the chance to mourn her properly either. Not to mention when she lost her mother. And now she felt like she'd lost Anders too, and she couldn't keep her emotions bottled up inside anymore. Hawke covered her face in her hands, catching her tears so they wouldn't stain her shirt, sliding down the wooden door until her backside met the floor. She screamed silently, her anguish so great that no sound escaped as she pulled at her short, spiky tresses like she could pull the memories from her mind.

When she was finished Hawke sniffled and composed herself. She lifted her head and looked around the room with blurry eyes. The bed drifted into focus, and she suddenly realized she'd never been so tired in her life. She picked herself up off the floor, her body feeling twice as heavy as she dragged herself over to the queen sized mattress and collapsed on top of it.

Meanwhile...

Isabela fixed her hazel eyes on the renegade mage. She'd thought she was badass. Blowing up the Chantry took it to a whole other level. She respected the hell out of him for standing up for what he believed, but she pitied his regretfulness. She shrugged her shoulders at Anders, lifting her hand to examine her dried-blood colored nail polish. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm not saying you should forget but there is no sense in dwelling on the past, on things you cannot change. No matter how recent." She pushed off from the wall and moved until she was standing in front of him. "Focus on what you can change. Or fix, as the case is. Go talk to Hawke. Maker's breath, you were ballsy enough to kill the Grand Cleric. You can do this."
 
If Anders had known what she had been doing inside of the door, he'd probably have stormed right in to hug her, tell her it would be okay... Or would have jumped out of the nearest window, into the sea, not being able to handle that he was the one who caused it. So it was probably lucky he didn't know.

Anders sighed at the words Isabela spoke to him. he knew she was right, and he knew he should listen to her, but it was hard to do so. It was hard to live up to what you wanted, especially at a time like this. He then decided he should at least try it, and pushed himself off the wall. "If only everything in life was as easy as blowing up a chantry. Thanks Isabela." He said, putting his hand on her shoulder for a second, before walking away. He looked to stand at least a little straighter, but who knew how long that would last. He walked up back towards her room, and knocked on the door softly. As there came no answer he then opened the door.

He saw her laying on the bed, ontop of the bedsheets. He smiled slightly and walked over to her, pulling the bedsheets over her. Her expression was the most peaceful it had been in a very long time, and he cast a sleep spell over her so that it would stay that way, knowing that there were many dreams that could interrupt ones sleep. He then lay himself on the other side of the bed, not wanting to leave now he managed to force himself to come over to her, as he knew he probably wouldn't return all too quickly would he leave now once more. He closed his eyes, and spelled himself to sleep as well, not wanting to let his thrashing wake her up.
 
Sunshine poured in through the porthole, seeming to centralize on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut against the light, then slowly opened them as she felt the warmth on her face. She looked up at the circular window, bringing her hand up reflexively to shield her eyes from the brightness before she simply turned her head and looked away from it. What she did look at however was a sleeping mass of renegade mage robes beside her. She looked down at herself, checking to make sure she was still fully clothed. Rarely in the last few years had she found herself in the same bed with this man and remained with clothes intact.

Hawke raised herself up and rested her upper body on her elbow. She leaned over slightly so that she was looking down at his profile. He was such a handsome man with his blonde hair, light brown eyes, and lean muscle. Her fingers tingled with the urge to run them through his hair, remembering how soft it was. Instead she curled them into a fist so tight her fingernails dug into her palm. Taking a deep breath she turned onto her back and prepared to slide out of bed when she noticed her body was covered by a bedsheet. She looked up at Anders once again, her heart throbbing painfully with the love she didn't want to feel at that simple act of tenderness.

And of course she still loved him. She was many things, but a fool was not one of them and she was not going to drive herself insane trying to convince herself and other people differently. Yes, she loved him. But she did not trust him. And there could be no relationship without trust. That was the sad reality of it. So where did that leave them? And how did he end up sleeping next to her? Did he come in there to talk to her? Oh, Maker, please let him have come in there to talk to her...
 
A bit later, after the woman had stepped out of the bed, maybe even after she had changed her clothing, if she felt like doing that, Anders woke up. For half a second he had nearly jumped at the sight of where he was. Immediately he wondered how much he had drank the previous night, before he finally remembered what happened. He looked up, only to see Hawke standing there, looking at him. He couldn't judge what she was thinking, and hoped she wasn't angry.

"Good morning, Hawke." He said, his voice soft. He pushed himself up from the bed, and walked so he stood infront of her. He felt a little uncomfortable, and she could see him eyeing the door a couple of times, as if he was planning on making a run for it. He finally got the courage to open his mouth once more and said "I wanted to talk to you, but you were already asleep." He said, hoping it provided enough reason, though there were many questions left open, as to why he chose to lay next to her instead of leave when he noticed that.

His face showed as much emotion as that of one who had been made tranquil, and he kept it like that with sheer force of will. If not he was afraid they'd all burst out, and if they did, so would quite probably Justice.
 
"Morning." She replied, glad that her voice didn't sound as weak as she felt. Hawke looked up into Anders's face as he stood in front of her. She didn't know what to expect, but her heart thundered in her chest like it expected something monumental. Honestly, she had had enough of monumental. So she took deep breaths, forcing her heart to settle down and accept that whatever happened happened. It vehemently refused to do so, and slammed into her chest as Anders said he'd come in to talk to her.

"What did you have to say?" She asked, he looked like he was more ready to bolt than to speak. If he had enough courage to destroy an entire religious institution he should have enough courage to speak to her. She suspected the Justice may have had a bigger role in that. Justice had already expressed his dislike of their relationship, calling her a distraction. She doubted that Justice could or would render any aid in this situation.
 
Anders' heart was throbbing in his chest also, going fast and hard. His stomach continued making summersaults, and his body was just completely acting up. "We really need to talk about what happened, as we've never really done so. But mostly we need to see what will happen now. It can't stay the same way it is now. Anything is probably better then this." He said.

Part of him was glad he finally said what he haid to say. Another part of him wished he had learned to be a shapeshifter, or something that could help him get away. He did feel Justice banging at the doors of his brain, sometimes even managing to speak to him. Since they left Kirkwall Justice hadn't been out, and he had tried to block him from his mind, but he knew that couldn't be forever.
 
"What is there to be said? You lied to me." Hawke shrugged her shoulders as she looked away, and then crossed her arms over her chest in a feeble attempt to keep her body from shaking. She took a deep breath and then turned her ice blue eyes back up to his face. "You could have told me anything, Anders. That's what being in a relationship is. You betrayed my trust." She shook her head, throwing her hands up as if she'd given up trying to control her emotions. She paced back and forth in front of door, feeling his eyes on her as she moved.

"I want things between us to go back to what they were, but how can that happen?" She stopped with her back to him. "I don't trust you anymore."
 
What Anders heard confirmed what he thought was going on. His eyes followed her body, his eyes several times becoming unclear of tears. "I know I could've told you anything, and I know I should have." He said, laying his hand on her shoulder. She could feel a small tingling sensation, the same she felt when someone magically healed her, or something to the like. "I know that the way I did what I did wasn't the right one, but it was something I knew needed to happen, and I couldn't have anyone interfering. I know I...Used" The last word came out with difficulty, and slight disgust over his own actions, "you, and lied to you. But if there is anything I can do to make it right to you, I will. For you there's nothing I won't do, if you wanted me to I'd even go fight an Archdemon, barehanded, and if you really wished me to, I'd kill it as well."
 
Hawke stared up into light brown eyes and couldn't help but burst into laughter. She felt like if she didn't laugh then she would fly apart. Typical Anders with his extreme ways. There never seemed to be any middle ground with this man. Either he had an opinion, or you didn't care. Either he was in, or he had nothing to do with it. Either he loved wholeheartedly, or he hated.

When her laughter died away, she took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't need you to fight an Archdemon, Grey Warden." She couldn't help closing her arms around Anders as she stepped into his body. She needed the contact more than she cared to explain, and she sighed like she'd gotten something she'd been denied for a long time. Hawke turned her head on his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart as they stood there. She didn't want to ruin the moment with words.
 
Anders eyes widened when she burst out in laughter, and momentarily there was sort of a blue shimmer around him. He had, for a second, thought she was laughing at him in a bad way, and got a bit mad, but then realized she had the right to it. What she had thought was true as well, except for the last. He had five steps for that one. Either he hated, like he did with the Templars, He didn't like them, like he did with the mages who would follow all of the templars' orders, and the grey wardens who made him take away Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, he was neutral to them, like he was with most people, he liked them, like he did with most of Hawke's companions, or the Warden's, when he was still with them, or he loved them. The right to the last had only been given to three people so far. The first was Hawke, obviously, the second Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, and the third the Warden. (You can choose. If you want him to be male it was brotherly love, if you want it to be female it was actual love, but she had already given most of her heart to the King, Alistair.)

When she went into his arms all thoughts about her laughing at him disappeared from his mind, and he could only think good things about her. He put his arms around her as well, and the only thing he could think of to say was a bit of a dumb thing "I know, just saying the option is there." He pressed his lips against her hair, and was actually pretty glad that she was asleep yesterday. He knew Isabela and Varric well enough that they'd listen at the door to know what happened.
 
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