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rose_in_winterCharacters: Fenris, Mage Female Hawke, Sebastian Vael (Fenris/f!Hawke/Sebastian)
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex
Fic Wordcount: 117,000
Chapter Wordcount:
Notes: Canon-divergent, ignoring most of Act 3. A thousand thanks tosenmut's Discord server for cheering and brainstorming and reactions and encouragement.
Beta: breadedsinner and MikWrites_InSpace
Summary: After the duel with the Arishok, Ariane Hawke looks around at the wreckage of her life in Kirkwall and asks herself: what is left for me here? As tensions increase between the Circle and the Templars, she turns to helping Sebastian retake Starkhaven. Meanwhile, she is trying to figure out how to love Fenris when he hates mages, and also definitely not looking at Sebastian's gorgeous eyes. Definitely not. Neither is Fenris. Sebastian is not looking back.
Definitely.
Canon divergence in which almost all of act 3 goes in the bin, and three damaged people try to find a way to live with each other and themselves, and maybe heal a bit.
Chapter index here.
Steel rang sharp and clear as Fenris drew his sword. Hawke spun to the left. Something about the space there didn't look quite right, as though it was bent around someone--like when they used to fight alongside Isabela. She hissed a curse through her teeth and aimed a fireball just far enough beyond Sebastian. The flames bloomed outward from the point of impact and outlined the figure hidden behind Sebastian; he screamed, and then she was staring at an Antivan man in light armor, armed with double daggers. Fenris was blurring into a flash of lyrium to strike back at the shaded person near him. Hawke lent a hand with a fan of icicles.
Even without the swirls of shadow that hid them, the attackers were brilliant combatants, fast and accurate. Hawke took a glancing blow to the ribs and a deeper one to the hip that sent her staggering, although that did allow Sebastian to loose an arrow into Fenris's dance partner. From the floor, Hawke slammed a glyph of paralysis into the one near Sebastian, and Fenris's sword sheared into him a moment later. Hawke scrambled to her feet and blasted ice at the second attacker--an Antivan woman--but missed.
The man grunted and fumbled with something at his belt. Glass shattered and a hideous choking cloud rose up. Hawke gagged and bent double, her eyes streaming as she coughed violently. She heard a noise to her right and tried to twist away, but a coughing fit interrupted her. The knife mostly scraped off her armor, and she staggered away, desperate for clean air.
Outside the choking cloud of smoke, she braced herself against the cave wall and tried to stop coughing. She could hear Fenris and Sebastian reacting to the smoke bomb as well, and the ring of swords on armor.
She had to put a stop to this.
Blinking to clear the tears from her eyes, she listened intently. Lyrium glowed briefly to her right; she spun, raised her father's staff, and unleashed a deadly rain of icicles, secure in the knowledge that Fenris wasn't there to be harmed. A gurgling cry echoed from the cave walls, and then the distinctive sound of a person falling to the floor. To her left, the eerie brilliance flared again. She could just see Sebastian's outline and bright armor as the smoke dissipated. Between that and the glow of Fenris's tattoos, she could aim the lightning bolt. It sizzled and seared as Fenris's fist disappeared into the Antivan's chest. A crimson spray accompanied his death rattle.
The smoke had cleared enough to see that both of their assailants were down and not moving. Sebastian leaned back against the cave wall with a groan, and Hawke realized he was badly injured. She stumbled through the remains of the smoke bomb to wrap him in a healing spell, then drew on the last of her reserves to do the same for Fenris, who was fumbling a potion out of his pack. She took it when he offered it to her and politely ignored his frown as she swallowed it. The itching began immediately, and her hip threatened to give way, so she leaned against the wall and tried to think about anything else.
Fenris went to check the bodies. Sebastian was still leaning against the wall. Hawke started to ask him where else he was injured, but Fenris interrupted.
"Hawke," he said, holding up a parchment. Hawke limped closer to look at it and saw that it was stamped with the feathered mask of the assassin order.
"I thought the Crows worked alone," she said.
"Usually they do," Sebastian replied.
Hawke looked down at the two Crows' bodies. "Does this qualify as attempted murder?"
Fenris choked on a laugh.
"Hawke," Sebastian said reprovingly, and then coughed. She turned quickly, eyes narrowed, just in time to see him stagger forward. Fenris dropped the parchment and leapt forward to catch him, easing him to the ground carefully.
Hawke cursed and reached out with her magic. Sebastian felt weakened and shaky, in a way he hadn't before, and Hawke might not be much for math, but it didn't take a scholar to know that the Antivan Crows were likely to have used poison--and in healing him, she might have sealed it into his body.
"Give him a potion for now," she said, trying desperately to sound and look like she had her shit together while her brain was one endless high-pitched panicked scream, "and I'll find the antidote. They must be carrying one."
She could hear the clink of glass as Fenris looked for one. She flipped over the Crow that had been closer to Sebastian and checked his belt. Two vials labeled in Antivan--which of course she didn't read--were full of sluggish liquid, but the tiny feather stamped into the wax seal suggested they would not help her cause. On his other side, a second pouch contained three other vials, also labeled in Antivan. Hawke compared them to the two poisons and found that two of the names matched, trying desperately to ignore the screamingly loud countdown in her head of how much time she had. The wrong antidote was as like to kill him faster.
As she rose with the third vial in hand, trying to figure out if she dared risk it, sunlight glinted off a fragment of glass just past the assassin's body. She took a step closer and found the shattered remains of a vial--with the same label as the one in her hand.
She was going to have to give such a huge donation to the Chantry.
She turned and all but leapt the short distance to her friends, where Fenris was holding Sebastian up. The prince's face was grey and his mouth slack. Hawke made herself stop and take a deep breath before she snapped the seal on the vial in her hand--terrified she'd spill it in her sheer anxiety--and held it to Sebastian's lips. "It's an antidote," she said, as reassuringly as she could, and prayed she wasn't lying. "Come on, Sebastian, help me out here."
His lips moved slightly and she tipped a few drops into his mouth, but not enough. Panic welled up and she stuffed it back down.
"Fenris, give me your waterskin," she said.
He didn't ask why, just unhooked it from his belt and held it out. Hawke pulled the cork free and took a swig, which she held in her mouth, then tipped the vial to her own lips, mixing its contents with the water. Leaning forward, she pinched Sebastian's nostrils shut, and pressed her mouth against his, carefully transferring the liquid. She felt his throat working weakly as he swallowed automatically. When she had given him all of the antidote, she sat back and rinsed her mouth, then drank half the contents of the waterskin in the dim hope that it would keep the antidote from hitting her too hard. Her mouth burned like the time she'd lost a bet with Isabela and had to eat a hot pepper raw, and the inside of her throat already felt like she'd taken knives to it.
Sebastian hiccuped, then coughed, and his eyelids fluttered.
"Sebastian?" Hawke leaned forward. She could feel the weakness in him with her magic, but she didn't dare try to heal whatever damage the poison had done to him until she was sure it was purged. Still, the gray tinge had faded from his face, and Fenris wasn't having to work quite so hard to hold him up.
She, on the other hand, had to stagger away from them to vomit thoroughly and unpleasantly in a different part of the cave.
She became dimly aware that Fenris had a gentle hand on her back, the other pulling her hair away from her face, and she was pathetically grateful.
"Come sit down," he said.
"But Sebastian--"
"Yes, Hawke," he said calmly, "I want you to come sit down so I can keep an eye on both of you more easily."
That....made sense.
She let him guide her to where Sebastian leaned against the wall and slid down to sit next to him. Her head was spinning viciously.
"Should check them," she mumbled.
"You sit," Fenris said in exasperation, "and I will check."
She heard the faint sounds of leather, metal, and cloth rustling as he checked their assailants, and then his footsteps approached. "Daggers that should fetch a good price," he said, "and what I assume is more poison, but they didn't make camp here."
Fuck. They'd have to search. She was so tired.
"Sweet thing, you just can't stay away from trouble, can you?" Isabela asked. From the sound of her voice, she was standing somewhere near the entrance of the cave. Hawke forced her eyes open; the dim light was painful, and they watered immediately.
She struggled to her feet. "You didn't hire them, did you?" Even she could tell the words had come out slurred.
"I do my own dirty work," Isabela said.
You didn't when you left me to fight the Arishok in your stead.
There was a long pause.
Hawke belated realized she'd said the words out loud.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Why should you be?" Isabela laughed, a little bitterly. "You're right."
Hawke leaned back against the wall of the cave, willing it to stop spinning. Beside her, Sebastian was making clumsy movements as though he wanted to draw his bow. Fenris was between them and Isabela.
"I'm not here to fight you," Isabela said. "I heard the fun and wanted to see what was happening."
Fun. Of course.
"Sit down before you fall down, Hawke." Isabela's voice wasn't unkind. "You can put the sword away, Fenris."
"I'd like to trust you," Fenris said, and no more.
"Touché," Isabela answered. "I'll stay over here, then. What's wrong with Sebastian?"
"Poison." Hawke's tongue tangled in her mouth. "Crows."
She might not be able to see Isabela's face, though the dizziness was beginning to fade, but she could envision the cocked eyebrow, the curling smirk as the pirate considered this information.
"Crows usually work alone. Well, let's see if they've got their contracts on them." Isabela's footsteps retreated.
Hawke gave up on standing and slid back down to the floor, grunting in pain when her tailbone hit stone. Fenris pulled her waterskin from her belt and set it in her hands, but then had to help her drink from it. Her vision was getting clearer, and the world had slowed its horrifyingly fast spin. The difference between poison and cure is a matter of dosage, her father had said when teaching her herbalism. She wouldn't be surprised if the antidote she'd used was a poison in its own right.
Sebastian coughed, and Fenris moved to help him with the waterskin. Hawke missed the warmth of his hands. That was stupid. Sebastian needed his help more than she did. She leaned her head back against the cool stone wall and tried to be patient. It was not her strong point.
Fenris searched the nearer Crow's body and brought the spoils to Hawke: a rolled parchment, a few more vials, a healing potion. Hawke took the parchment and unrolled it carefully. She didn't read Antivan (indeed, she only spoke it to curse), but the stamp of the feathered crow mask was clear enough, as were two names that jumped out at her. Sebastian's, and Cathleen Ovlin. Since she was reasonably sure Sebastian hadn't taken out a contract on himself, that must mean he was the target.
"Hawke," Isabela was saying in a voice with not enough laughter and too much calm, "what did you do to annoy someone enough to pay the Crows to kill you?"
"I don't know, Bela, do you want me to go alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of severity?"
There was a short pause. "If you can sass me that much, you're feeling better," Isabela decided. "Isn't Grace the name of the woman who was leading that group of escaped mages from Starkhaven?"
"Yes." The numbness had receded from her hands, and her vision had steadied. She could probably even stand up--except that the look on Fenris's face as the thought crossed her mind indicated she had better not act on it.
"Well, I don't know where a Circle mage got the money for the Crows, but that's the name on the contract." Isabela handed her that parchment as well, then hesitated. "Come on back to our camp," she said eventually. "You need a safe place to rest, and....I owe you."
"Thanks, Bela." Hawke struggled to her feet, with Fenris's help, and then he and Isabela helped Sebastian up. Hawke was steady enough that with the help of the wall, she could stay upright on her own, so slowly the four of them made their way back through the cave, which had certainly grown in size since they'd last made this trip. Every step jolted Hawke's entire body, and all she could think was that she was glad Fenris wouldn't have to stand watch alone tonight.
"We're having company tonight," Isabela said grandly.
"Maker, what happened?" Clarice jumped to her feet, a movement that made Hawke dizzy all over again, and hurried to help her sit down.
"Antivan Crows," Hawke said.
Clarice's eyebrows rose, but instead of asking questions, she went to one of the packs and started pulling out provisions.
Hawke knew she should be tending wounds, making a plan, figuring out why the Crows were after them--but she couldn't dredge up the strength. She accepted the cup of hot tea Clarice offered her and sat hunched over it, letting their voices wash past her, until someone gently took the cup from her hands as she drifted off.
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Canon-typical violence, explicit sex
Fic Wordcount: 117,000
Chapter Wordcount:
Notes: Canon-divergent, ignoring most of Act 3. A thousand thanks to
senmut's Discord server for cheering and brainstorming and reactions and encouragement.Beta: breadedsinner and MikWrites_InSpace
Summary: After the duel with the Arishok, Ariane Hawke looks around at the wreckage of her life in Kirkwall and asks herself: what is left for me here? As tensions increase between the Circle and the Templars, she turns to helping Sebastian retake Starkhaven. Meanwhile, she is trying to figure out how to love Fenris when he hates mages, and also definitely not looking at Sebastian's gorgeous eyes. Definitely not. Neither is Fenris. Sebastian is not looking back.
Definitely.
Canon divergence in which almost all of act 3 goes in the bin, and three damaged people try to find a way to live with each other and themselves, and maybe heal a bit.
Chapter index here.
Steel rang sharp and clear as Fenris drew his sword. Hawke spun to the left. Something about the space there didn't look quite right, as though it was bent around someone--like when they used to fight alongside Isabela. She hissed a curse through her teeth and aimed a fireball just far enough beyond Sebastian. The flames bloomed outward from the point of impact and outlined the figure hidden behind Sebastian; he screamed, and then she was staring at an Antivan man in light armor, armed with double daggers. Fenris was blurring into a flash of lyrium to strike back at the shaded person near him. Hawke lent a hand with a fan of icicles.
Even without the swirls of shadow that hid them, the attackers were brilliant combatants, fast and accurate. Hawke took a glancing blow to the ribs and a deeper one to the hip that sent her staggering, although that did allow Sebastian to loose an arrow into Fenris's dance partner. From the floor, Hawke slammed a glyph of paralysis into the one near Sebastian, and Fenris's sword sheared into him a moment later. Hawke scrambled to her feet and blasted ice at the second attacker--an Antivan woman--but missed.
The man grunted and fumbled with something at his belt. Glass shattered and a hideous choking cloud rose up. Hawke gagged and bent double, her eyes streaming as she coughed violently. She heard a noise to her right and tried to twist away, but a coughing fit interrupted her. The knife mostly scraped off her armor, and she staggered away, desperate for clean air.
Outside the choking cloud of smoke, she braced herself against the cave wall and tried to stop coughing. She could hear Fenris and Sebastian reacting to the smoke bomb as well, and the ring of swords on armor.
She had to put a stop to this.
Blinking to clear the tears from her eyes, she listened intently. Lyrium glowed briefly to her right; she spun, raised her father's staff, and unleashed a deadly rain of icicles, secure in the knowledge that Fenris wasn't there to be harmed. A gurgling cry echoed from the cave walls, and then the distinctive sound of a person falling to the floor. To her left, the eerie brilliance flared again. She could just see Sebastian's outline and bright armor as the smoke dissipated. Between that and the glow of Fenris's tattoos, she could aim the lightning bolt. It sizzled and seared as Fenris's fist disappeared into the Antivan's chest. A crimson spray accompanied his death rattle.
The smoke had cleared enough to see that both of their assailants were down and not moving. Sebastian leaned back against the cave wall with a groan, and Hawke realized he was badly injured. She stumbled through the remains of the smoke bomb to wrap him in a healing spell, then drew on the last of her reserves to do the same for Fenris, who was fumbling a potion out of his pack. She took it when he offered it to her and politely ignored his frown as she swallowed it. The itching began immediately, and her hip threatened to give way, so she leaned against the wall and tried to think about anything else.
Fenris went to check the bodies. Sebastian was still leaning against the wall. Hawke started to ask him where else he was injured, but Fenris interrupted.
"Hawke," he said, holding up a parchment. Hawke limped closer to look at it and saw that it was stamped with the feathered mask of the assassin order.
"I thought the Crows worked alone," she said.
"Usually they do," Sebastian replied.
Hawke looked down at the two Crows' bodies. "Does this qualify as attempted murder?"
Fenris choked on a laugh.
"Hawke," Sebastian said reprovingly, and then coughed. She turned quickly, eyes narrowed, just in time to see him stagger forward. Fenris dropped the parchment and leapt forward to catch him, easing him to the ground carefully.
Hawke cursed and reached out with her magic. Sebastian felt weakened and shaky, in a way he hadn't before, and Hawke might not be much for math, but it didn't take a scholar to know that the Antivan Crows were likely to have used poison--and in healing him, she might have sealed it into his body.
"Give him a potion for now," she said, trying desperately to sound and look like she had her shit together while her brain was one endless high-pitched panicked scream, "and I'll find the antidote. They must be carrying one."
She could hear the clink of glass as Fenris looked for one. She flipped over the Crow that had been closer to Sebastian and checked his belt. Two vials labeled in Antivan--which of course she didn't read--were full of sluggish liquid, but the tiny feather stamped into the wax seal suggested they would not help her cause. On his other side, a second pouch contained three other vials, also labeled in Antivan. Hawke compared them to the two poisons and found that two of the names matched, trying desperately to ignore the screamingly loud countdown in her head of how much time she had. The wrong antidote was as like to kill him faster.
As she rose with the third vial in hand, trying to figure out if she dared risk it, sunlight glinted off a fragment of glass just past the assassin's body. She took a step closer and found the shattered remains of a vial--with the same label as the one in her hand.
She was going to have to give such a huge donation to the Chantry.
She turned and all but leapt the short distance to her friends, where Fenris was holding Sebastian up. The prince's face was grey and his mouth slack. Hawke made herself stop and take a deep breath before she snapped the seal on the vial in her hand--terrified she'd spill it in her sheer anxiety--and held it to Sebastian's lips. "It's an antidote," she said, as reassuringly as she could, and prayed she wasn't lying. "Come on, Sebastian, help me out here."
His lips moved slightly and she tipped a few drops into his mouth, but not enough. Panic welled up and she stuffed it back down.
"Fenris, give me your waterskin," she said.
He didn't ask why, just unhooked it from his belt and held it out. Hawke pulled the cork free and took a swig, which she held in her mouth, then tipped the vial to her own lips, mixing its contents with the water. Leaning forward, she pinched Sebastian's nostrils shut, and pressed her mouth against his, carefully transferring the liquid. She felt his throat working weakly as he swallowed automatically. When she had given him all of the antidote, she sat back and rinsed her mouth, then drank half the contents of the waterskin in the dim hope that it would keep the antidote from hitting her too hard. Her mouth burned like the time she'd lost a bet with Isabela and had to eat a hot pepper raw, and the inside of her throat already felt like she'd taken knives to it.
Sebastian hiccuped, then coughed, and his eyelids fluttered.
"Sebastian?" Hawke leaned forward. She could feel the weakness in him with her magic, but she didn't dare try to heal whatever damage the poison had done to him until she was sure it was purged. Still, the gray tinge had faded from his face, and Fenris wasn't having to work quite so hard to hold him up.
She, on the other hand, had to stagger away from them to vomit thoroughly and unpleasantly in a different part of the cave.
She became dimly aware that Fenris had a gentle hand on her back, the other pulling her hair away from her face, and she was pathetically grateful.
"Come sit down," he said.
"But Sebastian--"
"Yes, Hawke," he said calmly, "I want you to come sit down so I can keep an eye on both of you more easily."
That....made sense.
She let him guide her to where Sebastian leaned against the wall and slid down to sit next to him. Her head was spinning viciously.
"Should check them," she mumbled.
"You sit," Fenris said in exasperation, "and I will check."
She heard the faint sounds of leather, metal, and cloth rustling as he checked their assailants, and then his footsteps approached. "Daggers that should fetch a good price," he said, "and what I assume is more poison, but they didn't make camp here."
Fuck. They'd have to search. She was so tired.
"Sweet thing, you just can't stay away from trouble, can you?" Isabela asked. From the sound of her voice, she was standing somewhere near the entrance of the cave. Hawke forced her eyes open; the dim light was painful, and they watered immediately.
She struggled to her feet. "You didn't hire them, did you?" Even she could tell the words had come out slurred.
"I do my own dirty work," Isabela said.
You didn't when you left me to fight the Arishok in your stead.
There was a long pause.
Hawke belated realized she'd said the words out loud.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Why should you be?" Isabela laughed, a little bitterly. "You're right."
Hawke leaned back against the wall of the cave, willing it to stop spinning. Beside her, Sebastian was making clumsy movements as though he wanted to draw his bow. Fenris was between them and Isabela.
"I'm not here to fight you," Isabela said. "I heard the fun and wanted to see what was happening."
Fun. Of course.
"Sit down before you fall down, Hawke." Isabela's voice wasn't unkind. "You can put the sword away, Fenris."
"I'd like to trust you," Fenris said, and no more.
"Touché," Isabela answered. "I'll stay over here, then. What's wrong with Sebastian?"
"Poison." Hawke's tongue tangled in her mouth. "Crows."
She might not be able to see Isabela's face, though the dizziness was beginning to fade, but she could envision the cocked eyebrow, the curling smirk as the pirate considered this information.
"Crows usually work alone. Well, let's see if they've got their contracts on them." Isabela's footsteps retreated.
Hawke gave up on standing and slid back down to the floor, grunting in pain when her tailbone hit stone. Fenris pulled her waterskin from her belt and set it in her hands, but then had to help her drink from it. Her vision was getting clearer, and the world had slowed its horrifyingly fast spin. The difference between poison and cure is a matter of dosage, her father had said when teaching her herbalism. She wouldn't be surprised if the antidote she'd used was a poison in its own right.
Sebastian coughed, and Fenris moved to help him with the waterskin. Hawke missed the warmth of his hands. That was stupid. Sebastian needed his help more than she did. She leaned her head back against the cool stone wall and tried to be patient. It was not her strong point.
Fenris searched the nearer Crow's body and brought the spoils to Hawke: a rolled parchment, a few more vials, a healing potion. Hawke took the parchment and unrolled it carefully. She didn't read Antivan (indeed, she only spoke it to curse), but the stamp of the feathered crow mask was clear enough, as were two names that jumped out at her. Sebastian's, and Cathleen Ovlin. Since she was reasonably sure Sebastian hadn't taken out a contract on himself, that must mean he was the target.
"Hawke," Isabela was saying in a voice with not enough laughter and too much calm, "what did you do to annoy someone enough to pay the Crows to kill you?"
"I don't know, Bela, do you want me to go alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of severity?"
There was a short pause. "If you can sass me that much, you're feeling better," Isabela decided. "Isn't Grace the name of the woman who was leading that group of escaped mages from Starkhaven?"
"Yes." The numbness had receded from her hands, and her vision had steadied. She could probably even stand up--except that the look on Fenris's face as the thought crossed her mind indicated she had better not act on it.
"Well, I don't know where a Circle mage got the money for the Crows, but that's the name on the contract." Isabela handed her that parchment as well, then hesitated. "Come on back to our camp," she said eventually. "You need a safe place to rest, and....I owe you."
"Thanks, Bela." Hawke struggled to her feet, with Fenris's help, and then he and Isabela helped Sebastian up. Hawke was steady enough that with the help of the wall, she could stay upright on her own, so slowly the four of them made their way back through the cave, which had certainly grown in size since they'd last made this trip. Every step jolted Hawke's entire body, and all she could think was that she was glad Fenris wouldn't have to stand watch alone tonight.
"We're having company tonight," Isabela said grandly.
"Maker, what happened?" Clarice jumped to her feet, a movement that made Hawke dizzy all over again, and hurried to help her sit down.
"Antivan Crows," Hawke said.
Clarice's eyebrows rose, but instead of asking questions, she went to one of the packs and started pulling out provisions.
Hawke knew she should be tending wounds, making a plan, figuring out why the Crows were after them--but she couldn't dredge up the strength. She accepted the cup of hot tea Clarice offered her and sat hunched over it, letting their voices wash past her, until someone gently took the cup from her hands as she drifted off.