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.

Comments

[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.