A/N: This story popped into my head a couple of days ago and I’ve been thinking about it nonstop ever since. It’s got some fHawke/Fenris, fHawke/Isabela and a hint of fHawke/Anders. I wanted to write something based on the after events of the end of DA2. Please enjoy and review.
THE AFTERMATH
CHAPTER 1
Three days of traveling and they had yet to rest.
Fatigue and hunger were starting to become a problem, but Gianna Hawke and her companions wanted to put as much distance between them and Kirkwall as they could manage.
It had been horrible.
Anders’s betrayal had affected them all, but Hawke was feeling the most devastated. The man she had given her heart, and body, to had betrayed her in the worse possible way. He had slaughtered innocents in the name of justice and had started something that was bigger than any of them.
Hawke had not wept when she heard what he had done. She had not screamed or had even gotten angry. She had looked into the eyes of the man she thought she knew and had told him to leave. She did not want to his face again and would be happy if she never heard from or saw him again. She turned her back on him and walked away, ready to defend those he had just thrust into his radical cause. She did not mention him through that day, though she stuck by her beliefs that mages should be free. Her companions were at her side, whether they agreed completely with her or not.
Hawke could feel her eyes starting to grow heavy and she knew they would have to make camp. She couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth and speak, afraid her unspoken pain and anguish would find a way to make themselves known.
“Well, as much fun as endlessly walking is,” Isabela’s voice broke her brooding. “I say we are far enough away from Kirkwall to earn a night of sleep.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more, Rivaini,” Varric spoke up. “Shall we find a spot to settle in for the night?”
Hawke knew her companions well enough to understand that Varric wasn’t really asking. She finally stopped walking and sighed heavily. “Here is as good a place as any,” she said. Her voice was hollow and completely devoid of emotions. She dropped the packs she had been carrying on the ground and turned to her friends. They were all watching her carefully. She knew they were wondering what was going on in her mind. When they realized she would not be opening up any time soon, they busied themselves with setting up camp.
Isabela was standing the closest to Hawke and followed Hawke’s lead by dropping her pack and collapsing onto the ground. Varric carefully put down his belongings before he went on a hunt for firewood. Merrill began gathering ingredients for the supper they desperately needed. Fenris remained still for a moment before he slowly circled their camp spot. Hawke noticed him watching her out of the corner of his eye. None of them asked her how she was doing and she silently thanked them for it.
She joined Varric in his search for firewood and was only satisfied when they had made a large enough pile that would last the night. Varric started the fire, while Isabelle stretched and leaned back against a tree trunk, placing her hands behind her head and closing her eyes. Once the fire was started, Varric sat next to her and went to work polishing Bianca. Merrill started cooking and soon the air was filled with the wonderful aroma of vegetable stew. Fenris continued to patrol, clearly not comfortable with standing still.
Hawke sat and remained staring at the fire for some time.
She tried not to think of the events that had led up to her current situation, but it was difficult. Everything she had worked for the past seven years, gone. Her mother was gone, Bethany was no doubt halfway across the world with the Grey Wardens by now, Carver was dead, her father was dead…
She could feel the tears wanting to fall, but she held them back firmly. She had not cried in many years and she did want to change that. She had known Anders was up to something. He had warned her that he would break her heart. She had not realized that it would come true. She looked away from the fire only when Merrill appeared before her, smiling and holding out a large bowl of stew.
Hawke managed to smile back at the surprisingly still innocent mage and accepted the bowl with a nod of appreciation. At the promise of food, Fenris stopped his patrolling and gingerly sat several feet away from Hawke. He did not meet her eye, but he did mumble a word of thanks to Merrill as he received his food. As he reached out for the bowl, Hawke took notice of the red cloth tied around his right wrist. It looked oddly familiar, though she wasn’t sure where she had seen it before.
They were still silent as they ate. The only sounds that were heard were the occasional slurping of soup and their spoons gently scraping the sides of the bowl.
It wasn’t until they were almost done that Merrill spoke.
“So, what happens now?” she asked. “Where should we go?”
“We keep moving,” Hawke said, putting her empty bowl to the side. “Ferelden isn’t a choice destination right now. It’s the first place they will look for me.” She looked at her companions. “Orlais is also out of the question. King Alistair mentioned there was trouble there.”
“Plus, it’s Orlais,” Isabela said with a smirk. “Who would want to go there?”
“Our best bet is to keep moving,” Fenris spoke up. “You don’t want to stay in one spot for too long…it’s better that way.”
Hawke gazed into the fire again. Fenris would know what the best course of action was. He had been on the run before, as had Isabela. They had done much better before they had met her. “You all would travel safer without me,” she said.
“If I didn’t leave you when I had that damn relic,” Isabela spoke up. “What makes you think I would leave you now?”
Hawke felt a smile cross her face. It was a small one that in no way reached her eyes. “This is different,” she said.
Isabela crossed her arms. “How?”
“You didn’t help a known, dangerous, apostate blown up the Chantry,” Hawke informed her.
There was a second of silence before Varric chimed it. “I’m going to have to disagree with you on that, serah,” he said. “We all helped him. We all did what he asked us to do and kept him safe from the Templars and Meredith. Not one of us suspected that he was up to something so sinister.”
“I did,” Fenris said bluntly.
Hawke let her eyes drift to his, and she found him already piercing her with his. She couldn’t be certain what emotion she was seeing. Her thoughts drifted to a specific night three years ago and she looked away once more.
That night was the second to last thing she wanted to think about at the moment.
“Yeah, well, you think all mages are up to something sinister, so that doesn’t really count, does it?” Merrill said back. Hawke smirked again.
“I appreciate the attempt at a pep talk, everyone but Fenris,” Hawke said. “But there’s not much you can say that will make me feel any different.”
“You need me to cook,” Merrill blurted out. At Hawke’s quizzical look, she hurried to explain. “You’re a horrible cook. Without me by your side, you would die of starvation, or worse…you could die from eating something you cooked yourself!”
Hawke didn’t know whether to feel amused or slightly offended. She settled on both.
“You need me to keep your story straight,” Varric said. “And to lighten the mood when you and the elf participate in a brooding contest.”
Hawke felt herself smile a bit wider this time.
“I am your best friend and you need me to be here for that reason alone,” Isabela said. “Also, who else is going to make sexually explicit jokes at the wrong moment…besides Varric?”
They all looked at Fenris, but he did not volunteer a reason for Hawke needing him by her side. He stood and began patrolling around the perimeter of camp again. Hawke turned to her other friends. She knew they were just as stubborn as she was and they would not let her drive them away that easily. “Fine, we can stay together for some time,” she said. “But eventually, it would probably be best if we all went our separate ways.”
“Not a chance!”
“Like hell!
“But I don’t know anyone else but you all!”
Hawke could feel her eyes struggling to remain open and she stifled a yawn. “We should get some rest while we can,” she said, pulling her pack over so she could detach her bedroll. “We shouldn’t stay here too long.”
Her companions agreed and they all readied themselves for sleep. Night had fallen while they had been eating dinner and the sky was alight with the full moon and twinkling stars. Fenris seemed satisfied that they were the only ones in the area and picked a spot by a tree several feet away from the others. Hawke could feel his eyes on her as she moved her bedroll closer to the fire. She was grateful she had thought to change into her noblewoman’s clothes when they had ransacked the Hawke Estate before their departure. Her heavy armor was tucked away safely in one of her packs, ready in case she needed it. She felt she was less noticeable without it on, but also more vulnerable.
She settled on her side, facing the fire, and watched the flames dance. Her troubled mind would not allow her to relax enough to succumb to sleep. Anders’s face kept swimming before her and she tried desperately to blink it away. She ignored her thoughts on him and scolded herself for wondering where he could possibly be. She was determined to make sure that that part of her life was over. She could not and would not forgive him for what he had done to her and those innocent people.
Somehow, through all her brooding and musings, she must have drifted off to sleep. It was not a peaceful rest as she had hoped it would be.
She saw bodies of men, women and children, all trapped behind the burning walls of the Chantry as Anders’s blocked her path. “No! They deserve this! You made this happen, Hawke!” he said viciously. “You said you trusted me to do the right thing! This is the right thing!” The smell of burning flesh was strong and the sound of their pitiful screams and cries rang through her ears. “I didn’t want this!” she shouted. “How could you do this?” “You pushed me to it,” Anders responded. “I could have never done this without your support, my love!” “Don’t call me that! I hate you! I didn’t want this! NOOOOO!” She knew she was trashing and screaming as she tried desperately to wake up from her warped dream. She knew that’s not how the events had unfolded, but the images kept calling to her, making her fight harder against them. A strong, tan arm came around her waist and Hawke felt herself being spooned and cradled from behind. It took her a second to recognize the spicy scent of Isabela and her soft voice in her ear. “Shhh, it’s okay, love,” her friend said. “It’s just a dream. You are dreaming.”
Hawke couldn’t hold back and sobbed. She cried so hard her whole body shook and the tears poured down her cheeks freely. She clung to Isabela’s arm and curled into a ball, crying for every person that had been killed in the Chantry. She cried for her mother, who had been murdered by a mad man, for Bethany, who she was sure she would never see again, and for Carver, who had been taken before they had even reached Kirkwall.
Isabela held her close and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, then rested her chin on Hawke’s head. There was movement and suddenly Hawke felt someone slipping under her and Isabela’s arms. Merrill curled into Hawke and gently took her and Isabela’s joined hands in her own. She pressed Hawke’s hand to her cheek, but otherwise remained still. Hawke held her close as well. She could even feel Varric’s hand gently stroking her long, black hair, though she could not see him and hadn’t even heard him come over.
Through her tear filled eyes, she could see Fenris. He remained sitting against the tree, his eyes on her. His expression was not as unreadable as before. He looked at her with pain and sadness. He made a move as if he was going to join them, but seemed to think better of it and just sat back. He let his gaze drift away from her for a moment, before he looked back. Without him uttering a word, Hawke knew he felt sorry for her.
She couldn’t bear to look at him or anyone else, so she shut her eyes tight a buried her face in Merrill’s hair, crying until she finally passed out from exhaustion.
--- A/N: So…not quite sure where I’m going with this but I have some fun ideas in mind. Please review and let me know what you think so far.
