Hawke has met a Bad End

[avisionofhawke]

Or, what would happen if Hawke came down Sundermount alone.

Or not alone, but ignore that bit.

Comments

[cattymage]

Hey, look, it's Hawke and Co., in this splinter!

Witness in amazement as these two scrubs trudge headlong towards Kirkwall, into the path of BAD SHIT.

Amazing. They haven't a clue.

[magerightsravelights]

He could not leave Kirkwall.

Not yet. Though he was now... alone, he had promised Anders, when he allowed him into his body, to share his eyes, his veins, his very mind -- promised that the mages would be free.

He had made it his purpose. And he would not be subverted from it.

But justice for Anders, the man, the complex, but compassionate soul that hadn't believed he could really do anything to right the wrongs of his world when they had met -- who had believed he, personally, had corrupted the spirit he'd let into his soul--!

--he had not. He had never.

Perhaps he was not fully Justice, anymore, but Justice could be found in Vengeance. And vengeance would be had.

This terrible loneliness -- a death of Anders' own will, come about directly because of the rift that had been pulled between them --

Kirkwall's new Viscount would die for this.

Aaand a hand wave to all the Sundermount shenanigans because we already have like four of those

[avisionofhawke]

In usual Hawke fashion, Aisling led Anders straight to Kirkwall. She did, at least, have the presence of mind to take him to a different, less claustrophobic entrance to the city - one that, incidentally, led right by the place she most wanted to see: Anders' clinic. Assuming time hadn't been absolutely trashed, her Anders would be there. Oh, Maker, she couldn't wait to see him! To figure this nonsense out, too, but mostly to see him and make sure everything was alright - make sure he was alright. She knew that this Anders was technically the same man, but at the same time he wasn't, and she missed the Anders she knew.

Maker, couldn't she go faster?

[cattymage]

"Aisling -- Aisling -- Aisling, you know, my wrists are actually rather slim and delicate and you're going very -- bloody Void I am going to fall flat on my face if you don't either slow down or loosen your grip!"

[avisionofhawke]

"Oh, sorry," she said as though just remembering that she was dragging someone along behind her. She slowed enough that he could keep up, looking a bit sheepish. "I suppose I got carried away."

[cattymage]

"You got carried, I got dragged," he grumbled. "I don't think there's much chance of me getting lost, now, so, you know, I wouldn't terribly mind getting my wrist un-confiscated."

[avisionofhawke]

Releasing his wrist, Aisling found a way to quickly give him a peck on the cheek. "I meant it when I said I'm sorry. Just so you know." And then, she tried her best to keep to a pace he could deal with. Rather difficult when one was filled with so much nervous energy and nowhere to put it, but still, she made the attempt. Andraste's pearly ass, she needed to just get there already so that she could quell this sinking feeling she had churning in her gut.

Intuition was a bitch sometimes, and no matter how hard she tried to tell herself everything would be okay, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong - broken, in a way that felt as final as a match lighting a pyre.