Last Night in Kirkwall

[questionablewit]

[Hawke and Bethany backstory, canon for Entanglement]


And then it was over. Or beginning, depending on your point of view. As far as Hawke was concerned, it was over. It wasn't a relief, just a cold, dim thing at the back of her chest, buried under layers of numbness and exhaustion. The night had thrown too many blows at her for anything else to surface, and the physical blows had been the least of them. Though there'd been plenty of those. How many times had Bethany and Anders had to heal her? It was a wonder either of them had any mana left, if they did.

Anders.

Hawke looked around. He was behind her, still at the edge of the Gallows Courtyard, hesitating. Their eyes met for one long, pained moment, and if there was a question in his gaze she couldn't answer it. Her attention was distracted by Aveline stepping forward, clearly intending to make an arrest, and Hawke thrust out an arm, stopping her, transferring her gaze to the guard-captain. There was a silent argument, which Hawke won; by the time she looked back, Anders was gone.

She didn't follow.

They all gradually split up after that. Isabela told Hawke that the invitation to join her on the ship she'd taken from Castillion's ship still stood, if she showed up by daybreak. Fenris said he needed some time to travel alone. Aveline went to find Donnic. And so on, some with promises to find her later, some not. Until it was just her and Teo.

And Bethany.

"We should go home," Hawke said to her sister. "See what's left. Make sure Bodahn and Sandal and Orana are all right. And Gamlen." She couldn't even muster up a joke about Gamlen, that's how tired she was.

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[whenshesgone]

Bethany was silent, merely nodding as she fell in step with her sister. The joke died on her tongue too; after the devastation of the day it was hardly surprising.

It wasn't as if Bethany Hawke was a stranger to destruction. She'd traveled with the Wardens now for too long to be a green girl sickened by death. Today wasn't so different, even if she knew the players far better than before.

What had her quiet was a gnawing worry in the pit of her stomach for her sister. Bethany knew how one's life could suddenly spiral out of control far better than most. She was very worried that Marian would refuse to confront it, and that would only be worse in the long run.

[questionablewit]

The walk across Kirkwall was a nightmare, even compared to what had preceded it. Normally it'd take half an hour to an hour to get from the Gallows to the Estate, depending on how much of a hurry you were in. Neither of them had any energy for hurrying, but that wasn't the problem. The problem wasn't even the devastation. It was the people. They recognized Hawke in her Champion's armor and brought her their questions, their panic, their desperation. Their need.

Hawke would have said she had no strength left, but she found some, dredged from some unknown source, used it to help lift rubble so citizens could pull out their dead and wounded. There was no more fighting, at least. She found a few Templars, told them Meredith was dead and Cullen had rescinded the Right of Annulment. They looked askance at Bethany, looked at Hawke's damaged, blood-splattered armor and expression, and didn't argue. She found a few mages, told them the same, and told them to run. To hide in Darktown, if they could. Distantly, she wondered if Anders would be in his clinic, or if he was already on his way out of the city. If he'd made any plans for his survival, or if all his intentions had involved his not living through the night. She couldn't follow that line of thought. Or any line of thought, truthfully. There was a haze of white noise separating her from everything. Anything said to her, she heard as though it was spoken from far away, even if the speaker was right next to her.

Exhaustion, no doubt. She'd never been so tired. And the petitioners kept coming, kept asking, kept begging her to fix things. Now was Bethany exempt from the questions, the begging for comfort or hope or advice; a Grey Warden is a sign of order and protection, a hero. If she was more anonymous she no less a visible symbol.

Help us, Champion! Make this right! Save us!

The worst is over, was all Hawke told them, and it was half a truth. For Kirkwall it was true, because the worst had already happened. For the rest of the continent it was just beginning, and she wouldn't tell them that. There was enough panic in the streets already.

It took hours to get back to the estate. "I take it you're staying the night," Hawke said to her sister as they approached, making an attempt at dry humor. "What's left of it."

[whenshesgone]

With every hand reaching out for her sister's help, Bethany's heart broke more. It wasn't fair, after everything she had been through that people still wanted Hawke to somehow magically fix their problems. The world didn't work that way.

But she was silent, because the last thing Marian needed was another fight with her sister.

She followed her sister into the house, finally breaking her silence.

"Marian, you know we can't stay here. Cullen has given us a head start; we need to use it." Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of steel under it. Of command.

"We need to get anything you want to take with us, make sure that the servants are able to find shelter, and leave."

[questionablewit]

Marian. Maker's breath. She'd never felt less like Marian. She didn't even feel like Hawke at the moment, she was too empty for that. But this was Bethany, and she didn't comment.

The steel in Bethany's voice was both surprising and unsurprising. Surprising, because it was something Hawke had rarely heard, rarely had occasion to hear, because until Bethany joined the Grey Wardens she'd usually let Hawke take the lead. Unsurprising because Hawke always knew Bethany had her own strength, and if it was quieter and more unobtrusive than Hawke's own, it was every bit as tenacious. More so, perhaps.

And despite everything, there was a part of her that was fiercely proud of Bethany, of hearing that strength expressed.

"I know." Hawke ran a hand back through her hair. "Wistful thinking. I could sleep for a month, but there's no time. Never a dull moment." It was an old joke between them. "This, at least, shouldn't take long. I'd made some preparations in case of..." Disaster. "In case. But where to after this, that's the question." Hawke looked Bethany in the eyes. "Do the Wardens know you're here?"

[ooc: that was a "Nor was Bethany exempt" up there in the previous tag, not "now". Whoops. I imagine she got pestered almost as much, because Grey Wardens Know Everything (tm)]

[whenshesgone]

"They do. I'm investigating the unrest, officially, although without a viscount you can imagine how official that actually is."

Being in the house was oddly detached experience. There were items that would remind her of happier times with Marian, or more painfully of Mother, but Bethany had never lived here. She couldn't help the odd, out of place amusement of it. How badly had she wanted to, all those months in Dustown. Now that she was here, it felt so wrong.

The little girl had grown up, and the princess positions had all been filled.

"Do you have trunks? We can't overburden ourselves but supplies will be needed." She left it unspoken that any personal possessions would need to be few.

[questionablewit]

"So you'll need to get back to them and report. Where is back to them? Amaranthine, or is there an outpost somewhere closer?"

Hawke shook her head at the question. "I do, but even small trunks will be too heavy, we'll never be able to take them. This is going to be more like leaving Lothering, I'm afraid. Whatever we can carry on our backs, and nothing else." Not that neither of them would need much. As a Warden, Bethany already lived with a bare minimum of personal effects, and Hawke herself had packed on the run enough times to do it in her sleep; she kept basic supplies laid out and ready for the next someone would ask her to run off to Sundermount or the Wounded Coast or the Vimmark or Maker knew where else. This would just involve adding a handful of personal items to her usual set. And not coming back.

"We'd best start in the kitchen, see what travel food we can put together. No, you do that, if you will; I need to find Bodahn and find out what's happened here."

No sooner had she said it than there was a sound of footsteps, and Sandal's head poked out of the door that lead down to the cellar. "Lady!" he said happily. Bodahn appeared behind him, looking immensely relieved, and Hawke moved to speak with them, leaving Bethany to her own devices.

[whenshesgone]

Bethany didn't reply, since the interruption by Bodahn and Sandal needed to take priority. They needed to be on their way as quickly as anyone. When Marian had sent them off, Bethany finally answered.

"I will report back immediately; they'll need to get the correct version rather than whatever official version the Templar come up with. But I cannot tell you where, sister. You'll have to trust me that I'll meet up with you and Isabela and the others as soon as I can."

Her expression was calm, and she wasn't intending confrontation. But she had her orders. And no matter how badly she wanted to keep an eye on her sister, Bethany knew that Marian needed to make herself scarce and fast.

"Besides, a Warden is more notable than a random traveling woman. Outside of Kirkwall you shouldn't be noticed."

[questionablewit]

Bodahn and Sandal were quickly taken care of; they were half-prepared to leave in any event, plans to move to Orlais already made. All they needed to do was leave more quickly. Orana, to Hawke's astonishment, chose to stay with Gamlen (who was out looking for Charade) rather than accompany Bodahn and Sandal to Orlais. Hawke would have thought Gamlen's abrasive attitude too much for the timid elf maid. Then again, Orana's loyalty to the Amell family was now absolute, she knew Gamlen, and she'd been treated worse in the past. Gamlen, however sleazy and crude, was not cruel.

All of them asked if they could help or accompany her; all were gently but absolutely refused and sent on their way, told to make free of any supplies in the house they could use. Warned that without question the authorities would come looking for her with questions, and the less they knew, the better off they'd be. Hawke wrote a short letter to Gamlen (The estate and all the Amell assets are again yours. Try not to lose it this time. Don't forget to take care of your daughter, and let her take care of you. Hawke) and gave it to Orana for safekeeping.

And that was that.

To Bethany's response, Hawke only nodded in reply. "Of course." She wouldn't have asked if she'd been less tired; Warden secrets were Warden business, not hers, and truthfully she didn't want to know. Not least because that would open the possibility of her being needed as a witness to explain details of the situation had deteriorated, and she could think of few things she'd rather do. Bethany could be trusted to give an accurate account. Bethany could be trusted. Her sister was grown up and had her own path to walk, and even if it wasn't one either of them had wanted. Hawke wasn't needed for this.

Some might have expected the knowledge to be invalidating, or at least disappointing because of the implication that the sisters would need to be parted again so quickly. In fact it was a relief. One fewer variable to be considered. "Come on, then," Hawle said, leading the way upstairs. "There are few things here you might want, before you go."

Hawke ignored it, concentrated on stripping herself of the Champion's armor, placing it all on its stand. It wouldn't be coming with her. Let it stand as a silent testament: Kirkwall no longer has a Champion. Instead she gathered together one of her spare sets, the least obtrusive one. It was sturdy, and like all the equipment enchanted by Sandal to have a few hidden tricks. She changed into a new set of clothes, noticing in passing that she had new sets of scars and bruises from the evening. There'd been no time for any cosmetic healing, just fast get back on your feet desperate flashes, she hadn't gotten so much visible damage from a fight in years; but then, they'd all taken more hits tonight.

Instead of wearing the armor, she packed it, along with another lighter set. Walking around in normal clothes would make her even less obtrusive, especially if she wore a cloak and did something about her face. The scar was a giveaway, but a hood and some ash from the fireplace might help. She wouldn't need to be disguised for long.

Hawke packed, motioning to Bethany to take anything she needed or wanted, if there was anything she needed or wanted. There were spare packs and supplies in plenty. Hawke believed in being prepared. And there was a chest containing some odds and ends from Lothering that Bethany might wish to keep.

[whenshesgone]

There was nothing personal Bethany kept. She had one effect; a necklace her parents had given her on a Feastday as a child, which she'd managed to keep all through her training. Stroud would have liked to force her to give it up, but the Wardens of Vigil's Keep where she completed most of her initiation were kinder. Everything in this house was long forgotten, and she couldn't bring herself to rip open more scars than she already had tonight.

"What about the others?" Bethany surprised herself by asking after a silence. The truth is she only wondered about Anders. Betrayal, anger and regret fought for equal footing as she thought about her former mentor. True, she'd never make a healer, but early on she'd learned a few basic healing magics. After all, Marian and Carver both made that almost mandatory. But Anders had been her friend, the only person she had known in Kirkwall who understood why she was so intent to remain free.

As angry as she had been at first to be forced into the Wardens, it had grown into her home and her true calling. She owed that to Marian and Anders in equal measures. Now she honestly wondered how much of Anders was even left.

[questionablewit]

There were a few personal things Hawke kept. Not many. A small pendant that had belonged to their mother, with a lock of each of their hair in it, hers and Bethany's and Carver's; the duck toy. She hesitated over that one, but took it; it was the only tangible thing she had from her father (unless you counted the key, which she didn't), and if it was an absurd thing to take on the run, so be it.

"You know as much as I do," Hawke answered. Some would try to join Isabela before morning, though whether anyone would succeed was another matter. Perhaps this was how it ended, every single one of them alone, the circle they'd managed to forge over the past seven years sundered. Not even two in company, but instead as singular as when they started. More, given Bethany. Less, given Donnic. That was a small, bright spot, at least. Aveline wouldn't be alone. "We'll all be making our own way from here."

If Bethany wanted to know about someone specific, she'd have to ask. Hawke was very determinedly not thinking about Anders, which was difficult, because he was written all over this room. He lived here too, in theory, though she wasn't at all surprised to find him not here.

Not many of his things were here either, and that should have been another clue for her, had she thought to look. The pillow hadn't been the only thing he'd given away or tried to give away, it seemed. What few things were still there were too neat, placed as though they weren't intended to be used again, at least not by him.

So many signs, if she'd let herself look. She'd caught a number of them, hadn't been able to miss that Anders was planning something. But she'd still been blindsided. Exactly as he'd intended, no doubt. Hawke wondered if anyone else would believe that, and realized, wearily, that she didn't care whether they did or didn't.

She buckled her pack, now full of all the things she thought she'd need or couldn't leave behind, rolled up the bedroll tight in its waterproof oilskin covering and attached it underneath, slung on a close-woven wool cloak. Advantages of being a noble: having the money to pay for good materials. She'd need every advantage she could get.

Hawke went over to the fireplace; her face was already covered with ash, blood, sweat, and Maker knew what else, but a bit more disguise wouldn't go amiss. That scar had to be covered. Even people who'd never seen her before had heard about the woman who'd dueled the Arishok, and how he'd marked her. "What else do you need, if anything?"

[whenshesgone]

There were signs here too, and it broke Bethany's heart again even as she had been sure there was no more ways it could. She knew Anders and her sister had been lovers; it was hardly a secret. As badly as Bethany had been betrayed, it utterly paled compared to what Marian must be feeling.

She knew her sister well enough to be worried about her next plans. Going it alone would be tempting, and if she had already made up her mind there hardly would be anything Bethany could say to change it.

Didn't mean she wouldn't try. Baby sisters rarely lacked for persistence.

"You aren't alone, at least," Bethany said, her voice equal parts light-hearted fondness and that same thread of command. "You know Isabela and Aveline will never desert you, and considering Fenris just stood beside you to fight for mages I can't see him going anywhere. Merrill and Varric are stalwart too."

Bethany looked at her sister with an even, measured gaze. "You are blessed in your friends, Marian."

[questionablewit]

Bethany was much, much too blighted observant.

Hawke was, fortunately, facing away from her sister at that point, so the spasm that crossed her face went unnoticed. Her hands didn't falter with what they were doing; deliberately haphazard smears of soot on her face, which (combined with a hood) should render her unrecognizable combined with a cloak. Enough to get her through the city, at least, assuming she shut her ears to any more cries for help. It was almost a pity she didn't favor the sorts of helms that covered one's face, but Hawke had always depended too much on speed for that and preferred an open view. She needed to see as much as she could as quickly as she could; anything that obstructed the view wasn't welcome on her head.

Her friends would've made conversation about that thought, if they heard it. Each in their own style. Isabela would've turned it into an innuendo, Varric a friendly insult on her face. Fenris and Aveline would've compared armor preferences. Sebastian would've said something gentlemanly and polite, Merrill something light-hearted and unintentionally hilarious. Anders would've offered up a compliment of some sort, some prelude to banter, or to a kiss.

Traveling without any of them--all of them--was inconceivable now. And yet.

"I know I am," Hawke said. There was no point in hiding her intentions, clearly. Not from Bethany. She stood up, stared down at the remains of the fire. "And in my family. But I won't be going with any of them. And I can't stay here." She reached out a hand and rested it on the fireplace. "I'm tired, Bethany. I can't tell you how tired I am of trying to live up to everyone's expectations of me. I can't do it anymore. Not even for them."

[whenshesgone]

For a brief moment, Bethany was surprised by the white-hot anger that rushed over her. She was angry at Marian for always believing it was all on her to solve everyone else's problems, angry at herself and anyone else who had reinforced it, angry at Anders for adding a whole other layer of guilt and responsibility to her sister's shoulders and angry at this damned city for tearing her family to shreds.

But in the back of her mind, Bethany knew there just wasn't time.

Walking forward, she angled herself in front of her sister's line of vision. "Someday, and I hope it's soon for your sake, you'll see that what we really expect of you. But know now I love you, sister. And I will find you."

She gave her a quick, fierce hug before pulling her own cloak back on and leaving as quickly as she could. If she made good time she could be to the Warden's outpost by nightfall and heading to Ferelden before the next dawn.

There would be time for rest later. A Warden constitution was a blessing, and she worried about her sister going so alone. Maker watch her until they met again.

And they would, undoubtedly. He wasn't done with either of them yet.