Chapter Text
It hurt less to exit the Fade than it did to enter it, or maybe the Fade was just less resistant to things getting out than getting in.
Or maybe Carver was just more prepared, expecting it the second time. But while it may have hurt less, the pain was still there, even with the shields Carver wrapped around himself and his brother.
The same feeling of wrongness from the first time filled him, though the nausea was less, and beside him, he sensed his brother drop to his knees, his hand pulling free of Carver’s.
Trying to focus on the world outside those feelings, Carver noticed how bright it was, the light around them no longer tinted green, filtered through eerie fog. He blinked, his eyes adjusting slowly.
He sensed the crackle of magic and threw the barrier back up, wrapping it around both of them just in time for the magic to part around them.
“Don’t,” he yelled. “We’re on your side.”
He didn’t know if it was true but it seemed a safe assumption. Especially if the sides came down to “demon” and “not a demon”. And even if it wasn’t true, if he bought himself - and his brother - some time to feel a little more normal, then he’d be in a better position to fight back.
Keeping the ward spell up, he raised his hands, trying to make it clear that he meant them no harm.
The advantage to magic, he thought to himself, was that if he did need to defend himself, he’d be able to do it quicker without making it obvious that he was reaching for his sword.
“Junior?” a familiar voice said and Carver squinted through the light. “Carver Hawke, is that you?”
“Varric?” Carver said, his eyes finally managing to focus properly through the brightness.
The dwarf stood before them, his crossbow pointing limply at the ground. An elf stood beside him, a shocked expression on her face, her own bow still aimed at the pair of them, but Carver ignored her and whoever else was behind them, his attention on his brother’s friend, on his friend.
“Andraste’s ass, Carver, how in the Maker’s name are you spilling out of the Fade?”
“I-” Carver started but he didn’t get a chance to say more before his brother - still hunched on the ground beside him - retched, emptying the contents of his stomach.
“No,” Varric said softly. Carver glanced back just in time to see his crossbow dip even lower. “Hawke? Is that… you?”
“Something coming,” the elf beside him warned, her bow shifting, aiming behind them where the rift still crackled. Green light pulsed gently from her hand, and Carver guessed this must be the so-called Inquisitor.
The one who had left his brother behind.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t have a chance to dwell on it, drawing his sword as some of the ghastly creatures he’d fought on his way into the Fade emerged. Apparently they had let some out, unless the creatures would have been coming anyway.
It didn’t take them long to dispose of the creatures, not with the others working with him. Carver stayed close by his brother, still hunched on the ground as though he didn’t have the energy to do anything else.
As the last of them disappeared, falling to swords, spells and arrows, the elf raised her hand, her dark red hair floating around her as the light radiated out, linking her with the rift. The light expanded, growing in the sky, finally exploding into a shower of sparks that rained down on them, disappearing, and then the clearing was quiet.
“Hawke,” Varric said again, dropping the crossbow completely as he rushed to Garrett’s side. He’d barely moved the whole fight, still on his knees, blinking at the world around him. Carver didn’t know if it was shock, trauma, the physical experience of spending so long in the Fade - how long had it been, after all? - or something else affecting his brother but he felt something clench in his chest, worried. He’d brought his brother back but what if he’d left part of what made him him behind?
“Varric,” Garrett said softly as the dwarf flung his arms around him. Hesitantly, slowly, he lifted his arms too, gently returning the hug.
“Hawke, you bastard, never do that to me again,” Varric said. He sniffed, burying his face against Hawke’s shoulder.
“Hawke,” the elven woman said softly, her voice uncertain as she returned her bow to her back. Garrett shifted ever so slightly to look at her as Carver eyed her suspiciously. He didn’t know if he could trust this woman. After all, if it wasn’t for him and his actions, his brother would still be gone, and because of her . “I’m glad… I mean… I’m sorry. I’m so glad you’re ok.”
She looked as though she was about to cry, one of her other companions stepping forward to comfort her.
Garrett laughed slightly.
“No hard feelings,” he said, though his voice sounded a little shaky. “I volunteered, after all. Glad it worked out.”
“You saved him,” she asked, turning to face Carver, and he couldn’t really tell if it was a question or a statement. “Thank you. It’s been a weight I’ve carried and I’m glad…”
She didn’t finish, wrapping an arm around protectively herself, a clear sign of worry.
Carver felt his jaw relax a little. Part of him still wanted to blame her for what had happened, for agreeing to leave his brother behind but… he’d seen his brother argue something before. It was hard to say no to him when the stubborn ass set his mind to something, and she clearly wished it hadn’t happened.
He wasn’t ready for forgiveness, not yet. But… maybe with a bit of time.
“Shouldn’t be surprised, really,” Varric said, his voice muffled, still against Hawke’s shoulder. “You Hawkes always did have a way of finding each other.”
While the introductions and explanations continued, Carver thought about that.
He’d lost a lot of his family but in this case, Varric was right. They had found each other, and he wasn’t willing to let his brother be lost again. Not yet.
*
The Inquisitor led them all slowly back to her headquarters, a solid fortress high in the mountains. It reached tall into the sky, an imposing feature on the landscape.
It seemed both Carver and Hawke had been exhausted from their time in the Fade, from the way time seemed to work differently, and from the effort expended in getting out.
Because of that, they had rested before the journey, lingering in the village nearby, both Hawkes sleeping for almost 2 days before the group moved on.
It was nice to talk to Varric again - it had been too long since Carver had the proper chance too, although the dwarf’s focus was definitely on his brother.
The swordsman, Blackwall, was interesting too. They introduced him to Carver as a fellow warden and it took all of 2 seconds for Carver to know this man had probably never even been present for a joining, let alone participated in one. But he moved on from that with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. That wasn’t his problem to sort out and who knew what the Wardens had been up to given the mess they’d apparently been in.
The journey wasn’t an unpleasant one, but it was clear the elf was relieved when they arrived, able to go their separate ways into the castle. Carver was relieved too, he and his brother being provided with accommodation within the walls to have some time away from others, just the two of them, in a world that felt more like their own than the Fade.
He had been there a few days, poking around, getting to know the people and place in this organisation when he heard a familiar voice.
“Carver!” he heard, barely processing the words when something hit him square in the chest, almost knocking the breath from inside him.
“Merrill,” he choked out, the elf’s arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Never do that to me again,” she chastised him, and he gave her a sheepish smile, returning her hug.
“I won’t,” he said. “Promise. This time I mean it”
He thought it was odd she’d made it to Skyhold so quickly, but it turned out she’d started to make her own way there before he had even , intending to talk to the Inquisition, seek their knowledge to see if there was anything they could do to help her. Personally, Carver thought that was an overly optimistic viewpoint from his friend - after all, if they knew how to get somebody out of the Fade, they could have found Garrett themselves - but he was glad to see her.
“Ser Warden?” a voice interrupted. The Inquisitor, waiting anxiously by the door. Carver had told her more than once she was welcome to use his name - especially given she significantly outranked him here in her own castle - but she’d stuck with the descriptor.
“Oh! You must be her!” Merrill exclaimed, clearly excited. Her eyes dropped lower, seeking the other woman’s hand where the green mark burned into her skin. The hand was covered with a simple glove, but the Inquisitor tucked it away under her scarf, seemingly unconsciously. “Oh Creators, I have so many questions to ask you.”
“I’ll.. You can find me later, I guess,” Inquisitor Lavellan said, her cheeks red, and Merrill turned to Carver, beaming in delight.
The Inquisitor had wanted to ensure his guest had found him, and with that job done she took her leave, Carver and Merrill alone again, in person this time and not just in dreams.
Merrill threw her arms around him in another enormous hug.
“You’re ok,” she said. “You did it! And you saved him, too!”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Carver told his friend. “And yeah. We did it.”
He only just believed it himself sometimes.
“Now,” Merrill said, stepping back abruptly, her eyes open wide in excitement. “Tell me everything .”
*
Carver found Garrett up on the battlements, just as he’d been told he would when he’d asked, his brother gazing out into the distant mountains. He didn’t stir as Carver joined him, even when his name was spoken.
Carver gave him a moment, watching the light shift across the landscape, catching on the rocky crags.
“I thought I’d never see this again,” Garrett said after a moment, his voice soft, almost carried away by the breeze. “I thought… I knew… when I turned back, towards that demon that…” He paused, as though trying to find the words, or maybe find it within himself to say them outloud. “But now, here I am.”
“Well, it’s a bit nicer out here than in there,” Carver told him and Garrett smiled, weakly enough that it left Carver wondering once again what lasting impact the Fade would have on his brother.
He’d had his own nightmares since they’d returned.
It wasn’t as though nightmares were uncommon for Carver - he’d had enough of them in his life. Even as a kid, before Ostagar, before Bethany, his mother, before the Joining brought a new kind of nightmares. The Fade was just one more thing to fuel them. But he had no doubt the Fade and the experiences there would be continuing to make their appearances, mixed with everything else, and Garrett had been there much longer than he had, with even less hope of returning.
“Just a tad nicer,” Garrett said, the pair of them lapsing into a comfortable silence, watching the clouds move.
“There’s a lot of things I appreciate more now, I think,” his brother continued quietly after a moment. “I don’t think I ever noticed the wind or the sunshine so much until it was gone. Even the noises of people around.”
“I know what you mean,” Carver said. The stark quiet of the Fade was even more obvious now it was gone.
“I even appreciate you more,” Garrett said, the tiniest hint of a teasing tone in his voice, flinching away as Carver elbowed him.
“Shut up,” he said. “You always appreciate me.”
“Yeah,” Garrett said. “I do.” He leaned closer, his arm pressing against Carver. “Maybe I haven’t always shown it as much as I could have. Guess it’s because you make it hard sometimes.”
“You ass,” Carver said, but neither of them really had their hearts in it. Garrett laughed, a tiny huff of amusement.
“I’m lucky to have you as a brother,” he said. “I don’t tell you that enough.”
“You too,” Carver said, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.
“What are you going to do now?” Garrett asked him, straightening up, moving on from the emotional moment. Carver shrugged.
“I’m thinking I might hang around here for a little while,” he said. He hadn’t talked to anybody at the Inquisition about it yet but he was sure they wouldn’t mind. And even if they did, he’d proven more than once that he didn’t need to listen to authority if what they were spouting was bullshit. “The Wardens are a bit of a mess right now from what I hear, so I’m not sure I want to go back just yet. Plus, they seem like they could use all the help they can get here.”
Garrett nodded, apparently approving of Carver’s plan.
“And hey, I've proven I’m good with weird Fade stuff,” Carver added. “We even managed to stop that demon magister asshole once already so I already have an advantage.”
“Apparently we didn’t stop him enough,” Garrett muttered under his breath. He’d already made it obvious he blamed himself for that.
“We’ll get him next time,” Carver told him, his fingers twitching towards where his sword normally sat. “And properly this time.”
“Yeah. I’m sure you will,” his brother said, eyes fixed straight ahead again.
“What about you?” Carver asked him, hoping the answer was something that would involve his brother taking care of himself, having a rest.
He hadn’t missed that Garrett had said you will. You. Not we.
“I’m going home,” he said softly. “Back near Amaranthine, I think.”
Carver’s contact with his brother had been spotty since Kirkwall but he knew his brother had spent some time lately out on a small property near Amaranthine, only a little way from where the Hawkes had lived during part of their childhood. It was isolated enough that he’d managed to keep a relatively low profile - especially given his fame and reputation - but he didn’t really know much else about the place.
“I think I’d like to try turn it into a bit more of a functional farm,” Garrett continued. “Hopefully without anything else turning to shit.”
“With you around, you really think that’s likely? Trouble follows you around like a bad smell,” Carver pointed out.
That got a chuckle from Garrett.
“Yeah,” he said. “But… we’ll see. You’ll have to come visit me there.”
Carver nodded.
“I’d like that,” he said.
They stood for a while longer, talking, but eventually Hawke left, needing to rest once again, leaving Carver alone on the battlements. The cool wind blew past him, catching his hair as the sun shifted lower, beginning to slip behind the mountains.
He conjured a small flame, one that sat, flickering, in the palm of his hand, drifting into thought as he watched the flames dance.
If you’d asked him a few months ago how his life would go, he wouldn’t have guessed any of this. The magic. The Fade. His brother, and the Inquisition.
But it had happened. His magic seemed like it was here to stay, at least for now. His brother - the last living member of his family - was safe again, and both of them had (somehow) survived the Fade, against all apparent odds.
But the world wasn’t ready to give him a rest, not just yet.
His fist closed in on itself, the fire disappearing, extinguished.
With Corypheus at large, gateways to the Fade still tearing through the fabric of reality, this Inquisition still had a job to do.
And now, Carver had a new role to play.