Chapter Text
They closed in on the chantry and approached the makeshift gate built into the courtyard walls when the door to the building itself flew open and a terrifyingly massive horned shadow stood in their wake.
"One more step and I will boil you in your shoes!" A powerful voice shot through the air, sharp like an arrow.
"It's me, Falon," Elena called back to her. "We're back."
The shadow didn't move. "You said you won't be back for the next few months."
There was a clear suspicion in Falon's voice.
"Yeah, well, things changed. I have Anders with me and Bethany's brother. Matty will be back with Beth before morning."
Matty? Garrett couldn't imagine how well it would go for him if he even tried to call his sister Betty. She would hear it from the other side of the world and would come to magic his head away from his shoulders just for that.
"What happened?"
"Did you hear the explosion? Bethany's learning how to solve the templar problem in the vicinity," Elena chuckled and there was a hint of pride in her tone.
"I don't feel so good," Anders whispered and leaned against Hawke.
Garrett felt his whole body shaking against his, palms sweaty and breath hitching in his throat before being released, hot against Hawke's neck as he tried to hold himself upright.
"I don't want to intrude into your conversation but I think there's something wrong with Anders," He voiced loud enough so that both people could hear him.
"Alright, fine. You can tell me everything inside," The Tal Vashoth at the door growled but opened the make-shift gate for them.
As they moved, Hawke heard a pained sigh, the grip Anders was having on his shoulder and forearm disappeared and the mage life-lessly collapsed towards the ground. Hawke barely managed to lessen the impact with his limbs.
"Damn it!" He spitted out and using all of his strength lifted his friend's body and hoisted it over his shoulders.
"Once he's okay, we will have to talk about what your brother did to him," Hawke threatened Elena vaguely.
“That's between my brother and Anders. I have nothing to tell you," she just shrugged his anger off lightly and followed him to the chantry.
"That's interesting because your brother told me something similar ."
Elena barked out a short doubtful laugh. "He told you it's none of his business?"
"Yes and pointed me to Anders."
"Then why didn’t you ask him?" Elena raised her eyebrows and in the soft light spreading from one of the corners of the building, she looked unabashedly into his eyes.
Hawke couldn't withstand her look too long and without another word just averted his gaze. To his surprise, he was met with two bows trained on their unguarded bodies and guided by two pairs of suspicious elven eyes.
"Well, now I have to ask," Elena quipped. "What is going on?"
"I want to see blood," A massive horned person approached them from behind, long staff with two trinkets bound to the top of it and dingling with her movement as she pointed it at them.
"That sounds ominous," Hawke remarked. "Can I at least put him down?"
The Tal Vashoth nodded. "What happened to him?"
"I don't know. He just fainted. Can someone look at him?"
While they talked, Elena pulled out a small knife and nicked her palm, drawing a little blood, then did the same to Hawke, grabbing his hand firmly.
"What about him?" Falon pointed her staff to Anders.
"He's no threat," Elena dismissed it.
"This is not a discussion."
Her blatant threat didn't give Elena any other choice and as she kneeled down to Anders, Hawke caught her hand.
"Let me," he insisted and she let go of the knife.
"I'm sorry, my friend," Hawke whispered as he held out Anders' hand in his and drove the blade into his skin and a crimson stained them both. As he leaned closer to him, Hawke noticed his friend's breathing was ragged and frantic. He needed help.
Only then and not a moment sooner, Falon lowered their staff. The elves, however, didn't change their posture.
"You said you didn't know if this would work."
"That's correct but we have nothing to gain by pointing our weapons at them any longer."
One of the elves let go of their bow easier than the other but both yielded.
"Can you call grandma, Anders needs help," Hawke insisted, wrapping Anders' hand with a piece of cloth.
"Go and bring the old healer," Falon ordered the more disgruntled elf and bent over Hawke to study his face.
"So you're Garrett?"
"I'm that famous, huh?" He gave them the faintest smile.
"I don't really care about that."
"Alright, Falon, will you tell us what's this about?" Elena cut their conversation short and leaned against a wall, arms crossed on her chest.
"Something out there is stalking us," the other elf blurted out.
"And you are?" Hawke turned to him.
"Lemvel."
"Garrett. But most people just call me Hawke. Choose whichever," he shrugged.
Side door of the chantry opened and Lemvel's brother walked out and holding Miriam by her forearm he led her to Anders. She just mumbled something and started checking his vital functions.
"Yesterday," Falon started her story, watching Miriam's movements, "after dark, it could've been about an hour or two after you left, I heard your voice. I was fairly surprised but went out to find out what happened."
They paused and frowned.
“If I was anyone else I would say I went unafraid and unarmed, but since I am me, the second is never an option."
Another pause. This one went on for a bit longer.
Hawke wondered if the pauses are made for a dramatic effect or if they were just thinking carefully about the information they were relaying.
"When I opened the door of the chantry, I saw a figure, a silhouette just outside the outer walls, standing there, presumably looking my way and not moving."
This pause felt more calculated, yet Elena let them have it and didn't rush them.
In the meantime, old Miriam prompted Hawke to hold Anders in a sitting position and support his back, while she pulled a small vial with some liquid and smeared a few drops of it on his lips. Anders instinctively licked the liquid and jerked himself. Hawke smiled but it was an empty smile, Anders didn't wake up.
"What?" Hawke looked up at her impatiently.
"Calm down, see, his breathing stabilized," she petted Hawke's shoulder and rested on a blanket one of the brothers spread behind her.
"What's happened to him?"
"He started dreaming again."
"Is he in the Fade?" Hawke asked frantically but there was no doubt about it. "He's in the Fade. Is he in danger? Will he be okay? Can someone hurt him? Can it kill him? Did the templar make it worse?"
"Every mage is in danger when venturing into the Fade, boy," Falon paused their story to pester him.
"Yes but his condition is more unique than others."
"I know about his connection to the Fade spirit-"
"Plus he's a Warden who knows what else is happening in his head!" The more Hawke's speech grew impassioned, the more was theirs devoid of emotion.
"We can't do anything else but keep him as comfortable as possible until Mathias comes back," the old healer pressed her palm against Hawke's chest and waited until he calmed at least a little bit, before she helped him turn Anders to his side and rested his head on Hawke's thighs.
"I always knew you would get yourself into bigger trouble than you can fight through one day," Miriam shook her head but her gaze was understanding.
"I would never leave a friend to suffer, granny," Hawke whispered and watched a momentary confusion form on her face.
Falon coughed and continued their story.
"As I said, there was definitely someone but I couldn't discern if it was truly you, so I called out. It moved its head and arms, it shuffled a meter in my direction and stopped so close to the wall that only the top of it was visible. That's when it called back to me. In your voice."
There was another second of respite as Falon put her actions into the right order.
"I knew there was no chance for me to hit it properly with one of my spells given that it was hardly visible at that point, thus I called out to Athela, their cousin," Falon nodded to the two elves. "She is a brilliant sharpshooter and I was lucky she was keeping watch with me last night."
Falon took a deep breath and their chest tensed, their lips curling with excitement. "She pointed her arrow, pulled the bowstring so far back I heard a slight creaking of wood, then she just aimed and waited, her eyes adjusting to the darkness and forming a straight path to her target. Then..."
At this point, Falon were clearly enjoying themselves, there was no doubt about it. Hawke wondered if it was the danger, the confrontation or Athela and her prowess that dug up a semblance of emotion from their chest.
"Then she just let go. The arrow speared through the darkness and disappeared from view leaving us in silence until it landed half a second later. The squelching sound it produced meant it hit something soft and living. It was a sound of success."
"What was the thing?" Elena asked, leaving no more room for gentle theatrics or egotistical expression.
"We don't know," Lemvel's reaction was immediate.
"What?"
Lemvel nudged Falon with his elbow to speak again and explain in their own words.
"When we reached the wall and looked over, there was nobody there. Nothing."
"Not even blood or traces leading away?"
They shook their heads. "No, not even that and for that matter, when Athela looked around the next morning, this morning, there were no traces leading towards us either."
"Is there a possibility it could be caused by some kind of a demon?" Elena asked and looked at the others.
They all shrugged and shook their heads, including Hawke.
"Is there a possibility of a demon living outside of flesh?" She added another question.
"Well, we won't know until our resident expert wakes up," Hawke smiled jovially but his voice cracked under those words.
"I need to sleep," Miriam yawned. "Wake me when something changes," She petted Hawke's shoulder as one of the elven brothers helped her to her feet again and cradling his friend's head in his lap, he watched her leave.
"How long has it been since we heard an explosion?" Hawke turned to Elena.
"Maybe an hour? If they're rushing, we might expect them in two hours. If not, they might be back by dawn."
"So, what exactly happened?" Tanras looked at Hawke.
"Oh, it's a fun story. It was the first time in months I met a group of Templars and their first instinct was to throw me in a dungeon," Hawke laughed nonchalantly.
"No," the elf waved his hand. "I meant in Kirkwall."
"Oh," There was a disappointment in his voice. He swallowed heavily then smiled again. This time, however, a bitterness lingered on his lips. "And you'd think that Varric's books would already be being sold around here."
"I think we have more pressing matters to solve, you know, like the abomination that talks in my voice," Elena tried to stop Tanras from inquiring more.
"No, he's right," Lemvel added. "We need to know."
"Not right now!" Elena hissed. "That thing may be gone for now but we still have to figure out what to do next."
"Hello," a shy voice of indistinct gender or personality resonated within the walls of the chantry and Hawke felt its chill deep within his bone marrow. There was something otherworldly about that voice but eerily familiar.
"Hello," the voice repeated and this time he could clearly recognize the voice of his own sister.
Elena rushed to the door in an instant trying to pry the door open but Falon's tall body slipped between her and the wood.
"It's not her."
"I know," Elena sifted through her gritted teeth. "But I have to see."
"There might not be anything to see," Falon countered but stood aside when the intensity in Elena's gaze hadn't faltered.
"If you want."
Hawke took off the upper part of his pelted armor and as he stood up, layed Anders' head on it for support.
As Elena pushed the door open, Hawke gripped his daggers and stood firmly at her back. She didn't seem to notice. What she also didn't seem to hear was the sound of two bow strings being pulled almost to bursting.
There was no hesitation, as Elena walked out into the open, leaving the chantry door ajar. Hawke didn't have the same luxury when he followed her. He felt a distinct sting of fear as he tried to remember what was so familiar about all this. What could've he forgotten?
"Hey!" Elena shouted into the night, peering through the darkness, letting her eyesight adjust.
Hawke twitched and turned when he heard Anders mumble something from his uneasy sleep. He waited but there was no change, no other signs of consciousness.
Elena readied her short sword when she saw movement behind the outer wall. There was something. Someone.
"Hey! I see you!" She screamed.
Hawke got jerked out of his fascination with Anders and sprinted out of the chantry, ready for anything... except for what he actually saw.
Elena stood at the opened makeshift gate that was baring anyone an entrance to the small courtyard, her body in a fighting stance, every muscle prepared for what was about to come. Opposite her, just on the outside of the gate, there were four phantoms, phantasmas, partially transparent but their shape was unmistakable, those were four massive darkspawn, sneering, baring their teeth and pointing their weapons in their direction, preparing to charge.
The whole world stopped. Hawke felt every beat of his heart, he heard the sound of air stuck in his throat and he felt his whole body turn to stone at the sight. He was paralyzed. The sight of darkspawn brought forth another image in his mind, that of Carver, his body, beaten and broken, cooling in the dirt and pool of his own blood, his soulless eyes and distorted face peering back at him. He stood face to face with the horror that took his brother and once again he could do nothing.
It wasn't the first time both his mind and his body failed Hawke but this time there was nobody to snap him out of it.
Elena screamed and shouted as she avoided the first few blows, trying to deal at least one of her own but her weapon just passed through the phantoms as if they were nothing but air. She stepped back to avoid another set of blows, slowly but inevitably backing up to the chantry and to unmoving Hawke.
An arrow flew past his head and grazed his cheek. Its tail feathers tickled his cut skin and smeared the blood to the corner of his mouth.
Sharp pain and the taste of iron brought new realization and it brought clarity to Hawke. He needed to do something and he needed to do it now!
Rushing forward, he gripped his weapons and joined Elena by her side.
"I will feign them and you focus on the one that's trying to kill me the most," he ordered and the next moment whistled in surprise when his dagger zinged on the metal of the darkspawn crude sword.
Elena didn't wait for a single second and struck against its midsection, her dagger finding its way into the soft flesh of the phantasm.
A howl cut through the air and the enemy stepped back, hatred emanating from its posture. Another, however, tried the same move, grazing Hawke's arm but receiving the same treatment, one dagger into midsection, while the other went close to the spine, almost meeting in the middle.
Another arrow flew past Hawke's head and disappeared half-way into the Darspawn head, sending it unmoving to the ground.
Hawke squealed enthusiastically, moving out of the way of another hit, while Elena tried to stab the attacker but her weapon passed through its body without any effect.
"We have to be in direct physical contact!" Hawke shouted, feigned another attack and knocked the Darkspawn sword out his hand, jostling them down in the process.
A gutteral sound escaped his lips when he stabbed the creature over and over maybe hundred times, all his hatred bubbling to the surface as the waves of his sins crashed against his conscious mind. The facade of nonchalance and sarcasm gone for a single moment as he treated his enemy's body as a pincushion.
"Move!" Elena screamed but he didn't hear her. He didn't hear anything except for the one thought, that this too was his fault.
Then it came crashing down. A powerful force knocked the wind out of him and he heard a few cracks his ribs gave as a massive hammer fell him to the ground while the body of the defeated phantasm under him disappeared. Just on bare instinct he rolled to the side, avoiding another hit by a few inches. A heavy iron-clad foot pressed against his neck as the creature readied itself for a last crushing fall of its weapon. Gasping and slowly losing consciousness Hawke waited for another blow to rip through his chest. Then to the sound of flying arrows his lungs expanded and pressed into his mauled ribs, and as he took his new first breath, wheezing and rasping, crippling pain came ripping through his whole body and tears burst into his eyes.
"Give me all you’ve got!" He heard Elena's guttural shout, coarse and filled with cuts and stab wounds just like her body was.
A spectral shadow of a Darkspawn with a two-handed hammer crushed to the ground beside him and only the arrow stuck in its eye was left behind.
Hawke pushed through the pain and stumbled towards the hunched over warrior. She, not unlike him, waited for the last Darkspawn to strike her with its massive sword, knowing that's when its head will be destroyed with arrows, she only hoped she would survive that.
But that's where she was wrong. Hawke came barrelling down, head and right shoulder ramming into the last enemy, taking it down with him with one last heroic swoop before the impact produced another loud crack and after a short scream the pain that engulfed his body plunged his conscious mind into deathly darkness.