literature

Consequences 7

Deviation Actions

The-Arkadian's avatar
By
Published:
951 Views

Literature Text

The sun was setting as there came a pounding at the door. Hawke burst into the foyer of the ruined house, yelling for Fenris, the others following at his heels.

"Up here, Hawke," Fenris called, not taking his eyes from Anders' face. The mage was sleeping peacefully; Fenris had sat unmoving by his side, holding the mage's hand and watching him as he slept, stirring only when Lirene had returned with the healer. He had moved aside for the mage to tend to Anders, then returned to his silent vigil once they were alone again.

Hawke took the stairs two at a time and flung himself into the room, pausing only for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim dying light from the dusty windows.

"Is he..." he breathed, unable to finish.

"Merely sleeping," replied Fenris, not looking round. Hawke crossed the room in hasty strides and sank down upon the bed on the opposite side to the elf, reaching for Anders' other hand. "Lirene's message said he was safe," he said quietly. "What happened?"

"Templars," replied Fenris tersely. "It seems Anders was correct about Ser Alrik. The evidence we found in the cave was but one more piece of the picture. Anders himself..." His voice tailed off, and he glanced sideways at Hawke. "Did you convince Aveline of the templars' corruption?"

"He did," replied Aveline, striding forward. "Anders' testimony would go a long way however towards persuading the Grand Cleric to take it seriously."

"I fear Anders' testimony will be more damning than you could imagine," answered the elf quietly as he rose and drew aside the coverlets. Hawke glanced across, and his eyes widened as he trailed his eyes down the sleeping mage's body, taking in the fading bruises, and then his gaze reached lower. Anders was clad in only his smalls beneath the grey blanket, and the dark stain of blood was all too obvious against the pale linen.

He snatched the blanket away from Fenris and spread it over Anders' legs with a cry of outrage, but Aveline had seen the stain. "Oh Maker," she murmured as her hand flew to her mouth. "They didn't-"

"Fenris!" growled Hawke. The elf held up a hand.

"No, they did not rape him. I arrived barely in time. But they did hurt him, and I have no doubt that had I not arrived when I did, then they would have done so. They drugged him, and planned to take him to the Gallows where Alrik planned to perform the Rite of Tranquility upon him."

Hawke groaned and sank back onto the bed, reaching out a hand to stroke the tousled blond hair of the sleeping man. "I should have kept him with me," he muttered. "I should never have let him go back to that clinic."

"Would you keep the man a prisoner in your house?" sneered Fenris.

"Better a prisoner than Tranquil!" snapped back Hawke, glaring at the elf. "And where were you, anyway? You ran off by yourself with never a backwards glance!"

Fenris reached into his tunic and pulled out the amulet from the cave, throwing it down upon the bed.

"I was doing what he could not," he growled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Hawke, rising from the bed once more. "Since when did you give a damn about mages anyway?"

"It mattered to him. Therefore it mattered to me," replied Fenris, unperturbed.

"Will you both please stop shouting?" murmured Anders quietly from the bed. All eyes instantly turned to him as he opened his eyes and stared at the two rivals.

"Anders-" began Fenris, as Hawke said "Love-"; both men broke off and scowled at each other. Anders pushed himself up into a sitting position and stared down at the amulet, then glanced at Fenris.

"You found her?" he asked softly. The elf nodded sombrely. Anders stared down at the amulet, then silently reached for it. His fingers brushed the metal surface, still warm from Fenris' body heat-

-as Fenris fell upon the four slavers like a force of nature, all silent fury and rage. Lightening licked across the sky, followed moments later by the crack of thunder as the heavens opened.

The girl stood listlessly where she had stopped, staring dully as Fenris' sword dipped and swooped in a graceful dance of death. Lyrium brands flared white-hot as he phased into incorporeality, a lyrium ghost whose touch was death as his hand reached into hearts, stopping them abruptly.

Blood fountained wet and glistening as the last slaver fell, and the elf stood before the girl. The brand upon her forehead was still red, angry and raw; her eyes as she raised them to his were dull and empty.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice curiously flat. In answer, Fenris pulled the amuet from beneath his breastplate and pressed it into her hands. As the glowing lyrium lines upon his fingers brushed against her hands, her eyes flew open wide, and she stared at him in awe.

"What are you?" she breathed, wonderingly. "It's like you bring a breath of the Fade with you."

"I am... a friend," he replied haltingly, his hands still covering hers as they touched the amulet. As he watched, her eyes slowly filled with tears.

"Please," she begged. "Don't let me go back to that half-life. Don't let me live like this."

"Are you asking me for death?" he asked quietly. She nodded, eyes glistening with tears.

"I can feel myself slipping away again. Please. Don't leave me like this. I beg you, release me. Please!"

Gently he circled the slender girl's body with one arm and pressed the other hand flat over her heart. Slowly he phased his hand into her chest and curled his fingers about her heart; he could feel it fluttering like a caged butterfly against his palm.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't be," she replied softly as she gazed up into his eyes. Her eyes were a soft amber, almost the same as Anders'. He could see them dulling already, returning to the eternal half-life of the Tranquil.

He closed his hand, and the amber eyes widened briefly; then as he watched, the life faded and she stared sightlessly at the sky.

Gently he laid her down and closed the eyes of the dead girl. He picked up the amulet and tucked it away beneath his breastplate once more as he turned back towards Kirkwall. The rain began to fall, washing the blood away from his body but not the heavy feeling in his heart....


Anders let the amulet fall from nerveless fingers. He was dimly aware of wetness upon his cheeks and arms surrounding him; Hawke, holding him close. He turned his head, seeking for Fenris.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully. The elf dropped to a graceful crouch beside the bed.

"It was the least I could do," he replied.

Anders reached out a hand to the elf, and Fenris leaned closer. Anders leaned forward, even as Hawke's arms tightened about him, and Fenris found himself captivated by the warmth in the amber eyes that regarded him intensely.

Even as Hawke groaned a soft denial, the elf lifted glowing lyrium hands to cradle Anders' face tenderly. Anders closed his eyes as his lips parted beneath those of Fenris, and for a second time he willingly surrendered to the elf's kiss.

The kiss was cut short as Hawke physically wrestled the slender mage away from the elf; Anders cried out in wordless protest before gasping as Hawke crushed the mage to him tightly.

"No! I will not allow this!" roared Hawke as Anders struggled against his grip. The elf growled ferally and drew back a hand, balling it into a fist as every lyrium line upon his body flared brightly, channelling his rage into silver light.

"Stop it! Stop it, the pair of you!" ordered Aveline as Varric pushed forward to put himself between the furious elf and the angry warrior. Anders fought for breath, Hawke's arms around his chest crushingly tight.

There was a tense silence, punctuated only by Anders' laboured pants. "Too tight... I can't breath," he gasped. After a few moments, Hawke reluctantly released him, and he fell forward onto his hands, coughing, before slowly crawling away from the warrior.

"Blondie, of all the dumb-assed...." Varric shook his head, staring down at the mage with something akin to sympathy in his eyes.

"Glutton for punishment, me," Anders replied with a weak laugh, not raising his head.

"What the hell were you thinking?" hissed Hawke. "Did you expect me to sit tamely by whilst you kiss him?"

"Thinking didn't really come into it," admitted Anders quietly.

Fenris stood silently, staring fixedly at the bowed blond head.

"This is embarrassing," muttered Aveline, crossing her arms and staring anywhere but at the three men.

"I'm sorry," Anders said quietly. It wasn't clear precisely who he was apologising to.

Varric sighed and ran a hand through his red-gold hair. "I didn't exactly come here to referee your love life, Blondie."

Anders nodded silently, hunched over on the end of the bed.

"Why did you come?" asked Fenris, still not taking his gaze off the mage.

"I wanted to make sure the mage was OK myself," replied Varric. "And to make sure Hawke didn't do something he'd regret. I didn't figure on Blondie being the one doing something stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," replied Fenris.

"Then what was it?" growled Hawke, pushing himself up off the bed.

"I don't want to hear this," interrupted Aveline.

"Then leave," growled Fenris. She turned and glared at him.

"Maybe I should just take Anders into protective custody for his own sake," she snapped back. Anders sat up, jaw dropping in shock.

"Me? But- what-"

"I won't allow it!" growled Hawke, laying a hand on Anders' shoulder; he wasn't sure if it felt more protective or possessive. Right now, he wasn't sure there was much difference between the two where Hawke was concerned.

"You will not take him," snarled Fenris, stepping in front of Anders.

"Well, looks like you two can agree on something where Blondie's concerned," observed Varric.

Anders looked horrified still, staring aghast at Aveline. "Oh, don't look at me like that," she snapped crossly. "If you didn't keep running off and getting yourself into situations like this then I wouldn't be even making such suggestions in jest. What on earth possessed you to go wandering off back by yourself like that? You know the templars have been asking questions around Darktown about you lately; it was only a matter of time before they raided the clinic."

"He was supposed to be with Merrill," replied Hawke, his hand still gripping Anders' shoulder.

"I was with Merrill," replied Anders. "I went back with her to the alienage. There was a cat-"

Hawke glared down at him. "A cat?"

"What? I miss cats!" Anders protested, a little defensively.

"Just as well you did, Blondie," remarked Varric. "If you'd gone straight to the clinic, chances are the elf wouldn't have found you in time."

Aveline nodded. "You'd be Tranquil by now."

"No, I'd be dead," replied Anders quietly. He turned and glanced up at Hawke. "Wouldn't I?"

Hawke dropped his glance then looked away.

"Hawke?" Anders asked quietly. Hawke stared at the floor. Anders stared at Hawke, his eyes uncertain, as long moments passed without answer. He slowly pulled away from Hawke's touch, slipping from the bed, dragging the grey blanket with him as he stumbled over towards the window, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. He huddled in its soft grey folds and pressed his forehead against the dusty glass, gazing sightlessly down at the square below.

Fenris followed, coming to stand a few feet away from the mage.

"I am sorry I did not come in time," he said quietly. "But I would not have let them make you Tranquil."

"I know," said Anders quietly. He pressed a hand to the cold pane. "You were wrong," he added in a whisper.

Fenris blinked. "Wrong? How?"

Anders' glance slid sideways. "I know what was done to me, Fenris. I could still feel it." His gaze dropped back to the square below. "But thank you for trying to protect me."

The elf bowed his head. "I failed you," he said quietly.

They stood in silence as the sun slowly set.
Arguments and recriminations. Poor Anders.
© 2011 - 2024 The-Arkadian
Comments9
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
freebird711's avatar
I propose a threesome! :hump: