Heart and Home Ch 8

The Gallows felt hollow.  Vast empty spaces, occupied by ash and blood, charred stone and smoke.  Fenris glanced up at the Tevinter statues and shuddered.  "We need to move," he hissed.  Varric nodded but didn't budge.  Hawke was less cautious, striding forward fearlessly.  "Wait!" Carver called out, cradling Merrill tightly.  His sister turned, blue eyes wide.  "What is it?"  "I smell lyrium," he replied, looking around.  "You can smell it?" the Dalish asked.  Carver mumbled a vague reply, cheeks flushed.  At least Riese let him catch up, Fenris thought.
     
Isabela shrugged, "Didn't think we would get out that easy, did you?  I’d be more surprised not to see someone."  Varric nodded, "Wouldn't make for much of a story."  Merrill giggled softly, "No it wouldn't.  And we all know Hawke is never boring."  "Shut up," Fenris told her, stepping close to Riese.  A clatter of bootsteps and armor silenced the group.  The templars did not run, they marched, coming inexorably closer with each measured step.  At the head stood Meredith, helm gleaming in the awful, red light and behind her, what was left of the Order in Kirkwall.  Blooded men, experienced in combat and firm in resolve.  

Hawke's expression changed, grip tightening on her staff.  "Meredith," she whispered.  Fenris put a hand to his sword, and Varric lowered Bianca.  The Knight Commander and her templars didn't pause or even slow, until they stopped a few feet away from the group.  The man to her right took off his helm, nodding to Hawke.  Cullen, the elf thought, unsure if his presence was a good or bad omen.  The Knight-Captain had a lot of respect for Riese, and well he should.  She'd done them many favors over the years.  Meredith only glared coldly, "And here we are, Champion, at long last."

Hawke trembled with tightly controlled rage.  Fenris knew her well enough to see the parade of horrors in her mind right now, every death laid at the feet of this one woman.  "Meredith . . . you will pay for what you've done here."  The Knight Commander smiled coldly, stance turning aggressive.  "I will be rewarded for what I've done here, in this world and the next."  Faith shone from her eyes, mad and glorious.  Fenris shook his head.  Whatever good the woman intended, no matter that he often agreed with her, she had lost herself.  Somehow he had hoped this massacre would sober Meredith, bring her enough regret to see that the solution need not be so extreme . . . but no.  

"I have done nothing but perform my duty.  What happens to you now is your own doing, mage."  Her threat was clear.  Riese watched her coldly, waiting.  Meredith continued, volume building as her fervor grew with each word spoken, "You were never part of this Circle and I tolerated that, but in defending them you've chosen to share their fate!"  Cullen took a step back, expression surprised.  "Knight Commander, I thought we intended to arrest the Champion."

Meredith turned to him, face twisting in anger, hands clenched at her sides.  "You will do as I command, Cullen."  The Knight Captain gave her a regretful look and shook his head, jaw firming.  "No. I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad.  I stood behind you no matter how harsh, how unrelenting your rules.  Mages must be contained, controlled. But this is too far.  What you suggest is murder."  He took a step toward Hawke, and the other templars shifted uneasily, loyalties torn.  The Knight Commander was never popular with the men that served her, a figure of fearsome authority, while Cullen was someone they knew and respected.  Fenris raised an eyebrow at this unexpected turn of events.  Perhaps they had a chance afterall.  

"I will not allow insubordination!  We must stay true to our path!"  Meredith shouted, her voice cracking with anger at this betrayal.  She pulled her sword, pointing it at the Knight Captain.  This decided his men; they broke ranks, coming between the enraged Knight Commander and Cullen.  Behind Riese, Carver stiffened, expression odd.  "Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks," Varric swore.  Fenris kept his attention on the insane woman, lips quirking in an amused smirk at the dwarf.  No matter the situation, Varric always had the perfect quip.  His amusement was short lived; there was something odd about her weapon, he thought, eyes narrowing.  

A sly grin spread across Meredith's face, "You recognize it, do you not?  Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads.  The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize."  She slid her hand along the hilt, caressing it as a lover might, fingertips trailing lightly up onto the blade.  The templars tensed, Cullen blanching a sickly white at the sight.  Carver made an involuntary groan, closing his eyes as Merrill whispered something to him.  Riese's expression did not change.  "That idol poisoned Bartrand's mind in the end," soft voice carrying a weight of pity and revulsion.

"He was weak.  I am not," Meredith grinned viciously.  She looked at the templars, "All of you, I want her dead!"  Heads turned to look to Cullen for direction.  The Knight Captain made a sharp gesture with his hands, "Enough!  This is not what the Order stands for, Knight Commander.  Step down, I relieve you of your command."  His men braced for the reaction, many putting a hand to their swords.  Meredith gave Cullen a look of contempt, "My own Knight Captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic."  She surveyed the templars in front of him, sneering, "You all have!  You're all weak, allowing the mages to control your minds!  To turn you against me!  But I don't need any of you - I will protect this city myself!"  She swung the blade around toward them, and several took a faltering step back.  

Fenris pushed Riese behind him, stepping between the mage and the Knight Commander.  He was surprised when Carver bumped his shoulder.  Hawke's brother settled a hand on his sword, "You'll have to go through me."  "And me," Cullen added, finally freeing his blade from its scabbard.  The other templars followed suit, loyalties decided.  Fenris gave them a nod and glanced back.  Merrill was leaning heavily on her staff, lips pressed to a tight, pale line.  Isabela was soaked in her own blood, shoulder wounds still seeping as she spun a dagger in her palm.  Despite her attempt at a cocky expression, he could tell she was pained.  Tethras maintained his usual grin, Bianca unerringly aimed at the Knight Commander.  

The sword hummed with power as she gestured to them, "Traitors!  I will have your heads."  Carver bared his blade, less reluctant than Fenris expected.  It was no easy thing to stand up to someone you owed loyalties too, but perhaps Cullen's defiance helped.  Meredith stepped back, plunging her sword into the ground.  The ancient stones groaned and cracked as the lyrium split them asunder, and then the Knight Commander knelt to pray.  
"Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter!"  The look on her face was beatific as she stood and wrenched her blade free.  Riese shivered, though Fenris could not tell if it was anger or fear she felt.  "She's lost it.  Just like Bartrand," Tethras whispered.  He would have said more, but Meredith didn't give them the chance.  She surged forward, gaze intent.  The elf readied himself, blade reflecting the eerie light of his tattoos.  He felt Hawke grab at his pack, prizing the lyrium potions from him.  If there was ever a time she needed them, he supposed it was now.  He heard the glass vial shatter on the paving stones and then she was pushing past him.  Carver tried to step in front of her, but he was not fast enough.

Riese swung her staff at Meredith, arcane energies rolling off of it.  The Knight Commander's sword sparked as it connected with Hawke's staff.  For a moment no one breathed, and then chaos.  Some templars surged forward and some ran, unable or unwilling to fight the Knight Commander.  Meredith sent them reeling back with a shout, the air shivering as her blade manifested her will.  The men looked surprised, even Fenris had to admit it was like nothing he had ever seen.  Raw magic in the hands of a templar . . . even outnumbered Meredith would be no easy prey.  Riese stumbled, barely keeping her feet as she skidded to stop, half the courtyard away from the Knight Commander.

Meredith's reprieve was brief though.  Carver rushed in, scoring a sharp cut across her thigh as she moved too slowly.  He grinned, getting his sword up just in time to block Meredith's return swing.  The steel of his blade screamed as the lyrium bit into it, showering both combatants with silver sparks as they slid apart.  The templar sword was sheared, a curl of brilliant steel hung off it at an odd angle as he pulled it back.

Carver retreated, his smirk melting into an expression of dismay.  The Knight Commander advanced, eyes not on her opponent, but beyond him.  Focused on Riese.  She had only taken a few steps when the ground at Meredith's feet erupted in blood-black vines, bits of stone exploding around them as they reached for her.  She paid the vines no heed, striding forward.  The sword shed an angry red hue, and the vines withered beneath it.  

"Get back, Carver!" Merrill shouted.  Fenris chanced a look back at her, and wished he had not.  Deep gouges in her arms bled a steady stream, twisting and writhing to the ground, burrowing under the stone.  She looked pale and gaunt, half dead.  It made him uneasy to leave her at his back, but it was too late to complain and in this fight, all allies were welcome.  The Knight Commander's next blow cleaved Carver's blade in two, parting his armor as easily.  Hawke's brother fell to one knee, panting.  Fenris was close enough to hear Riese cry out in dismay.  

She ran forward, fire arcing from her staff to Meredith.  The flames parted, hissing as they fell on cold stone.  The Knight Commander swung again.  Riese cried out in horror as the blade came down, certain this would be an end for her brother.  The air between the combatants shimmered, Merrill's frail form appearing in time to catch the sword, gasping as it cut deep.  Meredith smiled, kicking her to the ground.  "One apostate down," she said.  This seemed to shake the templars from their stupor, and they swarmed in again, Cullen at the lead.  Carver swept Merrill into his arms, retreating from the fight.
           
Riese met him, laying her hands on the silent elf.  Even with her healing, Merrill barely stirred.  "Go to the ship," Hawke told him.  It seemed he might argue, but she gave him a look, and her brother hastened to obey.  "I . . . I will come back," Carver said softly.  He tossed down his broken sword, and cradled Merrill's limp form.  They fled the courtyard.  Fenris gave the wrecked blade a glance and hoped his own fared better against the Knight Commander.  If not, at least he had other options.  It seemed Meredith knew how to cut down the odds against her. He and Hawke shared a solemn look, realizing how perilous their position was.  

Tethras let loose a bolt, taking advantage of the opening.  It punched through the Knight Commander's armor and she stumbled back a step.  Eyes wide with surprise, she looked down at the wound.  Blood welled around the wooden shaft, a thick runnel forming down her breastplate.  Meredith's expression turned smug as she grabbed the bolt.  "You think this will stop me?"  The dwarf loosed two more bolts; they slammed into the Knight Commander's torso.  The smirk slid from her face and she fell to one knee.  Just as Fenris began to hope, malevolent light spilled from her sword, arcane energies flowing through her.   "Strike now!" Cullen shouted, rushing forward, Riese close behind.

Meredith raised her voice in prayer, refusing to be beaten.  "Maker!  Your servant begs you for the strength to defeat this evil!"  The Knight Commander struggled to her feet, raising her head to glare at them.  Her eyes radiated a dull, red light; every trace of the woman she had been was gone, lost to madness and the power of her blade.  Cullen skidded to a halt several feet away, eyes wide with surprise.  Riese brushed past, staff raised to strike.  With inhuman speed and strength, the Knight Commander avoided the force of the blow, leaping into the air to land atop the central courtyard plinth.  The staff met empty air and then collided hard with the cobblestones, sending echoes across the Gallows.

Meredith plunged her sword into the ground, sending arcs of unholy power racing through the courtyard.  With a groan, the central statue began to stir, tearing itself up from the bronze pedestal that held it for centuries.  "Oh shit," Tethras muttered, already loading another bolt into his beloved.  Fenris heartily agreed.  The statue turned its head slowly, surveying the field as the statue raised its blade.  Its eyeless gaze landed on Hawke, resting there as it shuddered to its feet.  Riese didn't bat an eyelash, unleashing a barrage of lightning from her staff.  Fenris had to smile as his love met the challenge head on.  

Behind her, Cullen rallied his men.  "Even stone can break.  Attack it now!"  The templars rushed forward and Fenris ran with them.  Tethras fired a few shots at it, cursing as they rebounded harmlessly.  The first of the knights reached the statue, blades clanging against its legs in a shower of stone and sparks.  The elf could hear Cullen praying under his breath and felt the stirring of unleashed power as the Knight Captain thrust his blade into the creature.  Whatever he attempted, it only seemed to annoy the statue.  It all but ignored them, swinging one foot clumsily forward.  Several templars fell as it moved, and Cullen was almost drug along with it, wresting his sword free at the last moment.  Seeing how useless it was to hack at the statue, Fenris sheathed his sword and ran after it.
 
The thrice damned thing was headed straight for Hawke, and of course she stood her ground.  At least she was shielded, he thought, noting the blue sheen around her.  If he could find a way to take it down before it got there, it wouldn't matter.  Fenris leapt at it, driving his gauntleted hands into the statue's leg.  As luck would have it, he managed to cling to a narrower section behind its knee.  He wondered if it would be as vulnerable there as a man; he intended to find out.  With a feral shout, the elf struggled to rip free the stony flesh of the statue.  

It seemed he might fail; the tendons in his arms stood out like cords, every muscle taut as he pulled.  Just when he thought the task was beyond him, the stone gave way, ripping free.  He fell to the ground with it, rolling out of the way.  

Stuttering forward, the statue fell to one knee, then struggled to stand.  The templars wasted no time in attacking it as it knelt there, hacking away at neck and arms.  The creature seemed to realize it was vulnerable and ceased its attempts to stand; it changed its grip on the sword it held.  Cullen realized the danger and shouted, "Back, men!  Back!"  A few obeyed; most did not.  Too taken with battle frenzy, or simply not able to hear, they ignored the warning and continued to beat at the statue.  There was a loud cracking sound, and then it began to turn.  A movement impossible for anything of flesh and blood, it moved faster than Fenris expected.  The sword was a stone blur around it; the nearby templars were reduced to shreds in moments.  The elf grimaced at the carnage, wondering how he could bypass it.  The thing could be hurt or at least slowed . . . but he had to get close.

When the templars closest to it were dead, the statue began to drag itself forward, forced by the movement to lower its blade.  The Knight Captain watched it, expressionless, then looked to Fenris.  "Elf!  Can you do that again?  Maybe if we could sever the head . . . or the arms?"  Fenris nodded, dusting himself off as he regained his footing.  His gaze went to Riese, but she was no longer by the columns.  He looked around, heart pounding, until he found her crouched by the stair.  Safe, at least for now.  He half expected her to charge the thing and was glad she had not.  

The elf looked up at the statue with a grin.  "I always end up on the painful side of magic," he muttered and then took off at a run, leaping onto the creature's back.  It turned its head to look at him as he sprinted up it, the agonized expression all too fitting.  Cullen and the remaining templars rushed it again, and the statue turned attention back to them, seeing little threat in one, small, squishy elf.  Clinging tightly to the carving along the thing's back, Fenris plunged his hands into stone once more.
He could not feel anything inside that seemed vulnerable, just more thick, hard stone.  He wrapped his hands around it anyway and began to pull.  The rock grudgingly gave way and Fenris tossed it to the ground, nearly losing his perch.  The statue noticed him then, trying to turn its head to see him, but it could not.  The elf gave it a grim smile, gauntlets sinking in again.  The creature reached for him, hand moving slowly, deliberately.  Fenris hunched against its neck, grunting as it brushed against him.  Granite fingers curled around the elf, crushing down as it sought to rid itself of him.  Fenris tore at its neck, dark spots growing in his vision until he couldn't see anything.  The battle seemed far away, the drumbeat of his pulse growing louder and louder as his consciousness ebbed.

And then the pressure lifted.  The elf fell, landing just a second before the statue toppled, thankfully falling the other way.  Vision returning, blurry and painfully bright, Fenris made out Cullen's face hanging above his.  "Alive," the templar nodded, moving away.  Fenris could hear the shriek of metal and stone as more statues rose to fight.  "Will it never end," he sighed, struggling to his feet.  He checked to make sure Hawke was still alright, that she hadn't rushed into battle when he fell. Riese flashed him a quick, strained smile.  She was paying no attention to Meredith's soldiers, instead focusing attack after attack on the Knight Commander.  Ignoring the pain, Fenris rushed back to the battle.

---

Meredith saw her knights swarm the statue, traitorous blades raised against her holy warriors.  How had it come to this, she wondered.  The voice of the Maker spoke to her through the sword, soothing.  "They gave in to blood magic.  They are slaves to that mage, Knight Commander.  You must destroy them all to save them."  She took a deep breath.  The work of the Maker was never done.  Still, some doubt lingered in the back of her mind, dark tendrils tearing at her certainty.  

What about Cullen, they whispered.  The most loyal of her men, someone she relied on . . . how could he . . . he withstood demons and blood magic before . . .  Her eyes found him standing at the forefront, fearless against the stone giant he fought.  "Surely not my Knight Captain."  The Maker's power moved in her, vision fading to a red haze.

"All traitors, Meredith.  Do not doubt me," the whispers grew louder blotting out all other sound.  Pain and anger burned in her, pouring out into the Tevinter statues nearby.  She was a vessel, all thought gone, flawed self washed away in the mad purity of her god.  The last of her awareness flickered in the center of divine fire, struggling.  Distant sounds of battle washed over Meredith, a sense of panic began to rise in her.  

Losing.  The thought came in waves of boiling hatred.  And then searing white agony as something stabbed into her back.  The Knight Commander's senses snapped back into place, the world rushing in on her all at once.  Crumbled stone and bodies everywhere, but she had no time to think on that as the pain came again.  She turned, stumbled.  Blood wept from the deep gashes in her back.  A dark eyed woman in gore spattered clothes grinned at her, raising the blade again.  

The Knight Commander swept her aside with a heavy blow from her sword and the troublesome bitch went down.  A wave of force made her stumble again, catching her precious blade on the rocks as she tried to stay upright.  Hawke stood at the bottom of the steps, face defiant as always.  Seeing the Champion sent cold anger through Meredith, ice beneath the flames of the Maker's wrath.  "I . . . will not be defeated!"  She could feel the sword tremble in her hands, the power within begging to be unleashed on this apostate.  

"Maker, heed your humble servant," she panted, holding the sword above her.  Heat shot through her bones as it pulsed, a dull red gleam like banked coals lit the blade.  The pulses came faster and faster as Meredith held it aloft, until it hummed in her grasp, and then with a sound like shattering stone, the sword burst.  Fiery red shards flew across the courtyard, many embedded themselves in the Knight Commander.  Not that Meredith noticed them. The power of the lyrium raced through her, skin arcing, eyes flashing.  She fell to her knees, screaming.  "I have failed you," she thought, as torment devoured her.  She could feel her flesh cooling, hardening as she paid the price for her power.  As darkness crept across her vision, Meredith yearned for the peace promised to the faithful but the pain went on and on.  "Please," she begged, but no sound escaped lips turned to stone, no breath stirred from her throat.  

---

Fenris could only stare at the Knight Commander.  Or what was left of her.  Meredith’s face was twisted in agony, eyes still glowing red with that damned lyrium.  How had she been reduced to this, he wondered.  Hawke ran to Isabella, kneeling beside her.  Varric still had Bianca out and was eyeing their recent allies uneasily.  Fenris could see why. If Cullen decided now was a good time to arrest the Champion, they were in no shape to fight him.  Most of his templars had survived, and while he was a bloody mess of bruises and dented armor, he still stood strong.  It was all the elf could do not to lean on his sword for support.  

He watched as Riese drank down another blasted potion, lips twisting in distaste at the little shiver she gave.  The mage laid her hands on Isabela, eyes closing to focus.  Fenris walked closer as white light surrounded the two women, relieved to see the pirate's eyes flutter open.  Even with Hawke's efforts, she would wear a few scars from today.  Isabela stood uneasily, leaning on Riese.  Fenris gave the pirate a little smirk, "Nice work."  She nodded, grinning.  "Someone had to make that bitch shut up.  Wanna fetch me a drink?"  Hawke laughed softly and Fenris shook his head.  "Fine, fine," Isabela said, pretending irritation, "I'll get my own on the ship."  She let go of Riese and limped toward the dock.  Cullen watched her with disbelief.  "Wish you had one like that, eh," Varric laughed.  

Cullen shook his head, looking back to Riese.  "A word with you champion."  She nodded, waiting.  Tethras pretended to lounge back against the wall, but Bianca was still loaded.  Fenris just watched.  "I don't - don't hold you accountable for today, Hawke," the Knight Captain began.  "That's a relief," Riese smiled tiredly, sitting on the step.  Cullen stood in front of her, looking a petitioner in front of a battle weary queen.  Fenris always wondered in moments like this if Hawke knew the power she wielded.  She would have been a formidable woman even without her magic.  

The templar continued, "Ah, that said . . . you are . . . that is . . . I'm not arresting you but - your place is here, Hawke.  In the Circle.  I can't think of anyone more deserving of the title First Enchanter."  She raised an eyebrow, "Just like that?  Blow up a chantry, kill the Knight Commander and they reward me with a title and position?"  Cullen turned red, blushing deeply, "Well there would be an inquiry and of course, the position must be approved by the new Knight Commander, but that is likely to be me and I can't think of any mage I trust more."  She smiled and shook her head, "I'm no tower trained mage Cullen.  And I refuse to spend the rest of my life locked away no matter what pretty frame you dress it in.  I know you mean it as a fair offer, but no."  Hawke stood, dusting off her armor and began to walk past.  The Knight Captain laid a hand on her shoulder.  "Please Hawke.  We need you here.  After all that has happened, you owe it to Kirwall, to the mages!  Stay and rebuild."  Riese took a deep breath, obviously considering it, not as a reward but as a responsibility.   

Fenris went cold at the thought of losing her to the tower after all this, but part of him felt almost resigned.  She was a mage afterall, and though he trusted her with his life and more, it was dangerous for her to be an apostate.  For her and those around her, he thought.  He watched numbly as she reached for Cullen's hand, gently prying it off her arm.  "I have given the last 10 years of my life to this city, Cullen.  Kirkwall doesn't need me.  It needs someone with a will to lead, and the heart to be merciful.  Someone not tainted by the death of the Revered Mother.  Not me."  

It looked like he wanted to argue with her, but finally the Knight Captain's shoulders sagged.  "As you will, Champion.  You know if you run, you will be hunted.  No matter what I say . . ."  Riese nodded, "I know.  But I swear to you Cullen, I just want to live a quiet life.  Find some place to settle down, have a family . . . "  He gave her a tired smile, "Luck to you then.  I am not so fortunate.  There is work to be done and I made a promise."  

He stepped back and Hawke walked past, reaching for Fenris.  He put an arm around her, still processing what she had said.  Settle . . . family . . .  it was a good thing the templars let them leave in peace.  Varric followed them to the dock and helped Riese on board.  She held out her hand to help him up, but the dwarf shook his head.  

"No, Hawke.  It's best I stay.  You left quite a mess, but there's always opportunity in the chaos.  Besides, I want to see how this plays out!  A city with no leader, a shattered circle, war with Starkhaven darkening the horizon."  Tethras grinned, "And the heroine sails off into the sunset with her lover on her arm.  I couldn't have made up a better ending."  Riese laughed, "You make it sound very romantic.  Never mind the ash and blood, hm?"  He made a shushing motion and she smiled wider.  "Alright, alright.  Stay then.  I'm going to miss you, Varric."  

The dwarf hugged her awkwardly as she leaned over the edge of the small ship, patting her back.  "I'll write, and hey!  You always know where to find me.  Once the dust settles, we can share a brew at the Hanged Man, just like old times."  Hawke nodded, rubbing away a tear before it had a chance to fall.  "I'll send word as soon as I can, ok?"  Fenris gave the dwarf a pat on the back.  "It appears I'll be looking after Hawke awhile longer.  You have my thanks, Varric.  For all you've done."  The dwarf grinned, "I'll miss you too, elf."  

Isabela waved to Tethras, "Save my spot at the bar!  I'll be back in a month or so!"  He laughed, "The one with the illustrations carved into the wall?"  "That's the one."  Varric nodded, "No one's wanted to sit there since that one night when you . . ."  he trailed off, glancing at Merrill, "Anyway, I think your seat is safe."  

Carver helped Merrill over to the dwarf, stepping back as they said their goodbyes.  "Are you really staying," she asked.  "Really, Daisy.  Kirkwall needs me."  The Dalish tried to smile, "We might need you too.  It's not easy finding friends."  Tethras gave her a gentle hug, "We're still friends, Daisy.  And if you do need me, I'll come."  After a moment, she nodded, letting go of him with a little sniffle.  Carver smiled over the top of her.  "Take care, dwarf.  If we're lucky, this will be the last we see each of other."  Hawke shook her head, realizing as usual that her brother's mouth had gotten away from him.  Thankfully, Varric understood his intent and just nodded.  "If we're lucky."  He stepped back onto the pier and untied the moorings.  Isabela began barking orders, already moaning that she needed a professional crew.  

Fenris had no idea where they were headed and he didn't care.  He watched Kirkwall fade as they sailed out onto the rough waters of the Waking Sea.  He would not miss the city.  Everything he cared for was on this boat.  Settle down.  Start a family.  The words ran through his head like a mantra, repeated until the meaning behind them bled away.  It didn't seem possible that he could have a future like that in store.  His own home, a wife . . . children!  Warm thoughts to hold close as they fled into the stormy sea.