Chapter Text
Varric tried his best to focus. Firing bolt behind bolt into the grotesque demon, but it was hard to do with it whispering in his mind.
I can give you what you want.
“Fuck off.” He muttered.
I can give you what she wants. We could keep her safe.
“Fuck off.” He said a little louder as he reloaded his crossbow. He was down to his last three canisters, but the demon was on his last leg, or so he hoped.
She could lead this mess, and you can’t. You don’t have it in you. Aren’t you tired of being second fiddle?
“Fuck off.” This time his growl earned a brief glance from Ghelen.
You gave in once. You can give in again.
He’s stronger now. The boy’s voice echoed in his head this time. He doesn’t need you. No one needs you.
“It’s a whole fucking party in there right now…” Varric rolled away from a hit and fired three bolts into the demon’s arm momentarily pinning it to the ground. Ghelen ran up with a heavy downward swing, cleaving straight through its lanky limb. Varric popped the canister out and replaced it with a new set of bolts. Two left. The Herald raised his sword again and stabbed through the demon’s center, grunting from the force. The beast roared as Cassandra hacked away at its legs and Solas froze its remaining arm.
Varric lined up his shot straight for the beast’s forehead. “No one envies you.” All three bolts flew to their mark, striking in a tight cluster where its eyes should have been. It gurgled a final wail before dropping limp to the ground. They all stood back, panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Solas had to sit down, which Varric noticed. He tossed a small blue vial from his pouch and nodded to the mage.
Ghelen came up and placed a hand on his shoulder, still trying to settle his racing heart from the fight. “You alright? Was it talking to you?”
“Yeah. It’s fine though. Not my first time dealing with demons.” Varric chuckled and turned towards the steps heading back to the main hall where the boy was standing nervously. “Tell me you all see the kid too.”
“Yeah. He helped me get the envy demon out of my head. Name’s Cole, he said.” Ghelen outstretched a hand to the boy to shake but Cole simply stared at it, tilting his head curiously like it was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. Varric couldn’t help but chuckle at the bewildered look Shiny gave him in return.
“Curious.” Solas murmured beside him. He tore his eyes away from the scene in front of them as the remaining Templars marched out to the courtyard. Apparently killing the demon stopped the Red Templars. “Thank you, Varric.” Handing back the now empty vial. “Why do you carry lyrium potions?”
“Because usually I’m out and about with a mage.” They watched Ghelen speak to the Templars. Convincing them to join forces with the Inquisition as they attempted to close the breach. Cole took a few tentative steps towards Varric and stared at him with the same head tilt. The boy was just barely taller than him. “Yeah Kid?”
“You’re hurting. I want to help.”
“Uuuuh what?” Varric turned to Solas for any idea as to what the kid was talking about but was met with a similar look of confusion.
“I believe he may either be fade-touched or… something else. I will have to observe him to know for certain. Perhaps even consult my friends.” Solas hooked his staff to his back and walked over to Ghelen who was calling them into the Great Hall. It was time to head out. No one wanted to spend another minute in the red Lyrium infested keep.
“Come on Kid. You can explain what the heck you’re talking about on the way.”
“You want me to come with you?”
“I can’t just leave you behind. Just stick with me until we figure something out. What are you ten? Twelve?”
“Shivering in the dark, hungry, and frightened. It’s been eight years since I was taken away. Templars pounding at the door as they sang. I turned five that day.”
“Thirteen. Got it…” Varric looked the nervous boy up and down. He seemed withdrawn and not quite present to his surroundings. Like social interaction was denied him his entire life.
“Do not feel sorry. I help and sometimes people forget but the hurt goes away. Untangled and loose ready to be spooled back together. Her long hair shimmering in the sun, the smell of roses. She’ll be fine. Roses have thorns, and hers are like talons.”
Varric took a small step back from the boy, shocked at what he’d said. Then what he heard during the fight suddenly made sense. The hawk knows where to fly because she’s been there before. She did what she did best and saw all the signs before the rest of them even considered it a possibility. “How… when— “
“I hear the hurts. And then I help.” He repeated.
“Varric?” Cassandra waved at him to follow them out.
“Ok… alright, we can talk about it more later. Come on Kid.” Varric wrapped an arm around his shoulders and walked them up the stairs.
•••
Hawke dashed at the two bandits slicing at their knees and staggering them. The woman on her right fell backwards from the surprise. The man on the left swung his hand axe reflexively. Marian blocked it, slamming her left arm against his and stabbing a dagger into his now open shoulder. She swung her arm around his and twisted, wrenching his shoulder with an embedded dagger. He cried out in pain and dropped his axe which Hawke caught before flipping him onto the ground in one fluid motion. The blade of the axe had caught the man’s face as he fell, leaving behind a long red gash across his features.
She switched hands, tossing the hand axe to her right and juggling the dagger to her left. She held it backwards, running the flat of the blade along her forearm in lieu of a shield. By now the woman stood back up and charged her, swinging her longsword down over her head. It clanged against the dagger as Hawke raised her arm to block. With a kick to the stomach the bandit lost her footing, staggering backwards again right as her partner stood from the ground.
Now weaponless, the first man tried to punch her while she had her attention on the other bandit. Hawke pivoted to avoid the hit just over her left shoulder, before bringing the axe down on his arm. She pulled it out from the mess she’d made and hit him square in the jaw with the poll, sending him spinning backwards. Whether he was unconscious or dead Hawke didn’t care. He just simply didn’t move again.
The last bandit ran at her, readying her sword to swing. Hawke lunged towards her and fell to her knees at the last second. Knocking her head back and just barely avoiding the swipe of the blade over her nose.
In that moment the world seemed to slow. Something came over her that Hawke just couldn’t explain. But again, that same exhilaration she always felt in hand-to-hand combat consumed her. She slammed the beard of the axe onto the woman’s knee and pulled with all her strength, grunting with the force it took to topple the woman face first into the ground. They both stood quickly enough and swung at each other. The din of metal on metal excited her and she couldn’t for the life of her stop the laugh that left her. She slammed the head of the axe into the sword again, feeling the hit reverberate through her arm and watched the blade fall from the bandit’s hand.
Hawke slammed her boot down into the other’s foot and struck the bandit clear across the face with the back of the axe finally sending her to the ground unconscious. She took a moment to catch her breath. Reveling in the adrenaline rush that the fight gave her. Maker. It’s been a while.
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
Hawke spun around and flung the dagger into the tree directly beside the mystery person. A man, with tan skin and well-groomed hair wearing silks and enchanter’s garb froze in place. He was most definitely not from Fereldan. He raised his hands, taking a tentative step forward and into the light where she could see him more clearly.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you. Glad you missed.”
“I didn’t.” Hawke took a slow deep breath to steady herself, lowering the axe to her sides.
“I’ll be sure to remember that.” The man’s accent was reminiscent of someone’s. She just couldn’t quite place where. He made a long sweeping bow. “As thrilling as watching you slaughter these bandits was, I should be going. Although… I do have a question, if you don’t mind.”
“I may have an answer.” Hawke shrugged. “Whether or not I mind depends on the question.”
“Oh ho! It’s rare to see wit out here.”
Then it dawned on her. “Rare to see a Tevinter mage this deep in Fereldan.” She watched the minute traces of surprise on his face. His eyes flashed and an eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
“True enough I suppose…”
“What’s your question?” Hawke bent down and pulled her throwing blades from the bodies by the fire, never once letting go of the axe.
“Well, now I’m not so sure I should ask.”
“Because I realized you’re from Tevinter or because I realized you’re a mage?” She flashed him her finest grin. “Because either way, I really don’t care.”
“I’m not supposed to be here you see.”
“Me neither. So as two friendly leaves in the wind: I won’t tell anyone I saw you if you don’t breathe a word about me.” She crossed her arms and stood as nonchalantly as one could while surrounded by dead bodies and covered in blood. The bandit’s face had bled literally everywhere…
The mage watched her curiously, a smile threatening to light up his face. “Then consider me a vault.”
“Your question, mage-that’s-not-supposed-to-be-here.”
“Which way to Redcliffe?”
Hawke pointed at the fork in the road ahead. “Take the path to the left, when you pass an old windmill in a few hours, you’ll be a quarter day’s walk away.”
“Not that much farther then. Excellent.” The man removed the blade from the tree beside it and examined the metal work. They were clearly the tools of an expert assassin, down to having a symbol engraved above its hilt. “May I ask another question?”
“We may be reaching our limit on inconspicuous inquiries, but sure.” She accepted the blade from the stranger and slid it into its place on her back.
“Would you happen to know a place I could camp for the night. I stumbled upon these bandits right as you started to take them out when it simply dawned on me. I shouldn’t be walking around at night alone!”
“Alone is bad but it’s alright when it’s with a blood covered stranger.”
“I’m from Tevinter. Blood covered strangers is an average weekday unfortunately.”
Hawke burst into laughter at the man’s casual dismissal. “Well, you can call me Elise and we can be less than acquaintances but more than strangers.”
“You may call me Dorian.” He bowed once again.
“Well Dorian, this way. I can show you where I’ve made camp. We can share a fire if you have a light.” Her eye sparkled with mischief knowing her question would bristle him.
“If I have a light she says.” Dorian scoffed. “Go on then. I’m at your mercy.”
•••
The march back to Haven would take three days and they were already well underway with the first. They’d made good progress. The remaining Templars would be marching to Haven a day behind them, and soon they would hopefully launch a final assault on the Breach.
Varric hoped the others would realize they’ve done well without either Hawke or the Hero there to lead them. In fact, Ghelen had been doing spectacularly. Taking the roll as Herald in stride and making decisions when others hesitated. Soon, he’d send word to Marian to finally join him.
He had spent a greater part of the morning speaking with the mystery boy that had suddenly joined the ranks of the Inquisition. After several looped conversations and hinted comments. Varric ultimately resigned himself to accepting whatever the lad said in stride. He clearly had some ability, knowing things that no one else should know and commenting on old wounds he’d thought were long scarred over. He knew the boy’s name was Cole, but as usual ‘Kid’ simply stuck as the nickname.
Bull was nursing a cut on his arm as they walked and honestly Varric had had enough of the awkward silence between them. “You know Tiny, you're not the first Ben-Hassrath I've run across. Hawke and I went on a caper with one named Tallis.”
“You don't say.” Bull hardly looked up from the path.
“She caused us no end of trouble. You wouldn't know her by any chance?
Bull snorted at the question. “Hey, one time I ran into this dwarf on the road. Short, grouchy. You think you might know him?”
Varric grinned having realized how stupid his question had been but not willing to admit defeat. “I'm in the Merchant's Guild. Ten royals says I not only know him—he owes me money.”
Clearly, Bull hadn’t thought he’d get a reply. “Oh. Well... no. I don't know Tallis. Sorry.”
“He does know the dwarf.” Cole appeared between them both, startling Tiny into taking a few steps away.
“Called it.”
Bull broke into laughter easily letting down his guard. For whatever reason the Qunari Spy always seemed on edge around Varric, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He had nothing against Qunari, and even though his home city was almost razed to the ground, he didn’t blame anyone but the Arishok for almost destroying his life that day.
“Cold steel on cold stone floors. Her life seeps away and my heart can’t take it. The Qun is foreign, fierce but fair. This isn’t them. Just a mad man on a power trip.” Cole stared at the ground as he walked. Ignoring the glances, he received from Bull and Varric. “He doesn’t hate you The Iron Bull. You weren’t there.”
“Oh… err… ok. Good. Cool. Sorry Varric I just wasn’t sure…” Bull rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. I get it. But I guess since we’re on the topic. What are your thoughts on the Champion?”
“Isn’t she a friend of yours?”
“You could say that. Did write a book on her.”
“Haha!” Bull clapped a giant hand on his shoulder, only now making Varric realize Cole was gone again, which Bull didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I’ll be honest. I’m impressed. I heard she broke a dagger in his skull.”
“100% true. Right at the hilt.”
“That’s amazing! Not many people can fight the Arishok and live, let alone beat him in combat. What was the fight like? I got reports but it’s not the same, heard Hawke was something else in that fight.”
“Yeah. Almost dead. Maker damned woman…” Varric grumbled under his breath. “I’ll tell you when we’re warm in a tavern not out here in the sodding snow.”
“Not a fan of nature?” Bull eyed him, curiously.
“Let’s say Nature and I agree to disagree.”
They chatted the rest of the way, eventually joined by Blackwall and Sera. Varric couldn’t find the kid again and it was starting to worry him. Meanwhile no one else seemed to notice the boy was missing. Or even remembered he joined them in the first place. It wasn’t until after they stopped for camp and played a few hands of Wicked Grace that he appeared beside Varric’s bedroll.
“Kid, where’d you go?”
“I was next to you; you just didn’t see me.”
“I— what? I’m sorry Kid I swear I— “
“I didn’t want you to see me. You were happy for little while.” Varric cleared his throat and looked around when Cole suddenly asked, “How do you play?”
He turned to see the Kid holding his deck of cards. Varric patted his pockets to be sure, he was certain he’d picked them up.
“I uhh… I can show you. If you want.”
“I’d like that.” The boy smiled and sat down beside Varric. Something about the kid just warmed his heart and he wasn’t about to start asking himself introspective questions right now. It was too late, and he hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol.
•••
“I appreciate the company, Elise.”
“You’re welcome, Dorian. Care for some wine? It likely won’t be very good but it’s better than nothing.” Hawke pulled out a dusty bottle she’d found in a ruin nearby and handed it to the mage. “So, care to explain your particular brand of crazy?”
“Me? Crazy? Perish the thought!” Dorian waved his hand with a flourish at the very idea.
“Right…” she narrowed her eyes and smirked. “Because a Tevinter Mage heading into Circle territory during a Mage/Templar Rebellion is normal. Just a holiday then? Surely Tevinter has nicer views than battlefields and war.”
“Depends how close you get to Seheron.”
Hawke snorted and took a drink from the bottle. “Sorry I haven’t any cups.”
“Yes, a shame really.” Dorian sighed. “I’m following an old mentor of mine. I can’t tell you more than I’m trying to stop him from doing something incredibly stupid.”
“I wish you luck. Stupidity often has enough persistence to wear down even the smartest of men.”
“That… was unexpectedly sage.”
“Didn’t think I was smart enough to keep up with a scholar like you?”
“Now I’ve offended you.” Dorian gave a small bow of his head.
“No, you haven’t.” Hawke laughed. “I had to deal with it growing up is all. I’d rather be underestimated than taken for granted.” She flashed him her best smile. “It’s better to surprise people.”
“True enough. So then, why are you out here?”
“Waiting. And it’s driving me crazy…” Hawke handed the bottle to Dorian. “Just… waiting. Hiding. Like an outlaw of some kind. Kill bandits to pass the time.”
“If that’s your idea of ‘passing time’ I’d hate to see you on a busy day.” He nodded his head back towards the path they’d come from. “Waiting for what?”
“News. A letter. A whisper. Anything to let me know it’s safe to go back. I promised this person I’d trust them, and so I’ll keep it.”
“Out here in the midst of a Mage/Templar Rebellion?”
“Ha! Yes, out here in the mess. I hear the Inquisition is reaching out to the Templars for help with the Breach.” Hawke leaned over and threw another log into the fire, stoking the embers to keep it bright.
“You’d think they’d have allied with the mages. Enough magic into that and you likely stand a greater chance of closing it.”
“True, but it’s theory.” She nodded. “The Templars’ entire purpose is to suppress magic, fight abominations and fight demons. I feel like a magic, demon spitting, hole in the sky falls more under their jurisdiction.”
“Suppress magic? Your Templars actually suppress magic?” Dorian seemed incredibly bewildered by the news. “You know I’d heard of it, but never thought it was true. Interesting.” He seemed to be a man used to having most of the facts, keep a calm and cool demeanor. Not even knowing him, she could tell that expression didn’t often appear.
“Would you like for me to tell you about the plight of mages of your southern neighbors? … I happen to know quite a bit on the subject.” She muttered bitterly before taking another drink from the bottle.
“If you wouldn’t be too opposed.” He leaned back, watching her expression remain sour. Like the wine suddenly tasted off. “It may actually help me in my task.”
“Would it now?”