Chapter Text
They made it to the Sun Gates and out of the city with no one chasing them.
"Shit," Hawke muttered, "Shit, shit, shit."
It still didn't encapsulate half of his frustrations.
Lord Seeker Lucius had lost his damn mind, as certainly as Meredith and Lambert had. And now there was no alliance with the Chantry, no chance of an agreement with the Templars - and no chance of peace with the war. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. If he hadn't been there, would Lucius have listened? If he wasn't front and centre of the Inquisition, would they have had a chance?
"We've got company."
Hawke looked around at Zevran's words, bracing himself for another fight where he couldn't do anything. But walking towards them out of the gate was an elven mage with dark hair.
"Grand-Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra asked, stepping forwards.
Fenris muttered something under his breath about complications.
Fiona took them all in, steadily, her eyes lingering for a moment longer on the stump of Hawke's arm and Fenris' lyrium lines.
"I am sorry I did not arrive in time to help against the Order." She said, her accent Orlesian. "Perhaps if you are looking for allies against the Breach, Herald, you will have more luck speaking with the rebel mages."
Hawke stared, even as Fenris snorted in disbelief.
"You do not know me well if that is your opening gambit, mage."
Fiona simply raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Do you have other options left to you? The rumours spilling out of the city suggest the Lord Seeker ordered your arrest."
Fenris' jaw was clenched, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew the corner they were backed into now. The lyrium in his body alone wasn't enough to close the Breach, so they needed allies. The Templars, who would have been his first choice, had proven they wouldn't listen. Worse, they'd tried to arrest Hawke. after everything. They might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull.
The Grand-Enchanter offered a faint smile at Fenris' frosty silence.
"Come to Redcliffe," she said, "We will come to an agreement. If your … personal feelings about magic cannot be set aside, send the Champion. You trust him well enough."
Hawke winced. Fenris trusted him - but the idea of trying to broker an agreement between the rebels and Fenris as the Herald almost gave him an anxiety headache then and there.
She turned to leave, and then paused, seeming to consider something.
"And Champion? I will have schematics sent to Haven based on some old Warden designs. Adapting will not be easy, but it is possible. I have no doubt you will remain one worthy of your title."
"I - Thank you," Hawke managed, even as her words irritated him. He knew what she was doing - that she was offering to help him to get on Fenris' good side. From Fenris' scowl, he knew it too.
Not that he wouldn't take a look when those plans came through. Varric had mentioned that he'd written to a few friends who might know a thing or two about engineering, but there had been no response yet. And after what had just happened, Hawke wasn't leaving Haven without a way to defend himself again. Even to Redcliffe.
Sera, their new and strange companion, made a silly noise.
"Pissing mages," she muttered, before glancing at Hawke. "Not you."
Hawke didn't think he counted much as a mage, right then.
"Come on," Fenris muttered, "Let's get out of here."
It was a miserable group that found the Inquisition agents waiting with their horses a little way out. Hawke's hip ached as they rode, and he started to trail behind.
Zevran slowed down to ride with him.
"It'll get easier, my love." He said, trying to sound encouraging.
Hawke closed his eyes. It was a damn lie. Anders had left him with injuries that would never quite be right again, and now he was having to reorient himself to a life without his dominant arm. Even if he could adapt, Fenris was still the Herald of Andraste - still had an unknown source of magic embedded in his hand making him the only person who could stop the Breach. Easier? It was going to get worse.
He tried, desperately, to find something light-hearted to say. What he blurted out instead was,
"Is he safer if I leave?"
Zevran looked ahead, to where Fenris was riding and seemingly talking with Cassandra. They got on well. Varric could stay, and Zevran even, so Fenris wouldn't be without friends. And Leliana and Cullen could help guide him through the politics and danger of it all.
"No," Zevran said quietly, "I don't think so. Those who believe he is your puppet will not be convinced by your absence. And he needs you, now. He cannot do this alone."
Hawke swallowed. He was exhausted and struggling, reeling from what had happened at the Conclave. He was absent from the city he technically still ruled, and a wanted man by the Templar Order, if not the Chantry. But Fenris needed him. And so Hawke would stay, trying to hold himself together when it felt like he was one set-back away from crawling into a hole to die.
One set-back. One argument.
"I need you," Hawke said, the word's sticking in his throat. "I - I don't know if I can keep fighting, Zev."
The Crow didn't respond for a moment. Then he shifted his weight on the back of his horse to reach across and squeeze Hawke's thigh. Such an easy thing - a thing that Hawke couldn't have managed without toppling right out of the saddle. At least, not right then.
"I am here, my love." Zevran said, "And you are Garrett Hawke - I don't believe for a moment you won't keep fighting, hmm?" He lowered his voice. "Once we are done here, I will take you to Rivain and far away from here. And we won't return until I see you smile and mean it, yes?"
Smile and mean it. Hawke tried to, even then. It was a ghost of the real thing.
"Fenris too?"
"If he'll come." Zevran said. "He might have founded a new religion, by then."
Maker's balls, Hawke hoped this Herald nonsense didn't become that. He looked back to Fenris, at the front, and wished he could do something, anything, to ease the burden.
They were nearing the gates of Haven when a woman appeared on the road ahead of them, dressed in the finest Orlesian fashions. There was a staff strapped to her back.
Cassandra pulled up her horse and Hawke fumbled his own reins. Vivienne.
The First-Enchanter of Montsimmard and leader of the few remaining Loyalist Mages cast her gaze over the group. The Loyalists hadn't sent a separate delegation to Haven for the peace talks - but they had provided a mage entourage for the Grand Clerics. A dozen more dead, but not Vivienne. The last Hawke had heard, she was still in Val Royeaux. What was she doing here?
"Herald," she said, considering Fenris like he was a fascinating species of butterfly she planned to pin down and add to her collection, "Well, this is not what I expected when I refused to attend the Conclave personally."
Fenris frowned at her. The few times they'd crossed paths before, she'd all but ignored him in favour of speaking with Hawke, or Leliana.
"First-Enchanter," he said - which was an improvement on Fiona, who had simply been mage. "Why are you here?"
Vivienne's eyes moved from Fenris to Hawke for a moment before focusing back.
"The Chantry is in shambles," she said, her tone imperious, "Only the Inquisition seems prepared to restore sanity and order in these difficult times."
Hawke frowned, immediately suspicious. Vivienne hadn't been vocally against the Inquisition in the capital, but she had been dismissive of the rebel mages - and Hawke. Fenris was well aware of some of their arguments as he'd been present for most of them.
Fenris didn't look convinced, but then Vivienne gave a small smile.
"The Loyalist Mages remember the commandment that magic must serve man. If we can serve in closing the Breach, we will have done a great thing for Thedas."
Hawke thought of Fiona, in Redcliffe, of the rebels. Were there enough Loyalist mages for them to make a difference in closing the Breach? He didn't think so, but if there was one group of mages Fenris would be more comfortable with…
"And what do you get out of this?" Hawke asked, suspiciously, even as Fenris turned his head and scowled at the interruption.
Vivienne's smile widened, just a little.
"The chance, Viscount, to decide my fate. Surely you of all people cannot begrudge me that?"
He couldn't, but he didn't want her anywhere near Fenris. And Fenris didn't seem to be inclined either.
Of course, Hawke realised. Fenris had seen a hundred mages like the First-Enchanter - in Tevinter. She might believe in the Chantry, in the Circles - even in the Templar Order - but she knew power. She wanted power.
But could they afford to turn away any ally, in the circumstances?
"You may join us," Fenris said, slowly, seemingly reaching the same conclusion. "Do not make me regret it."
Vivienne's mouth thinned, but she nodded, and turned her horse to join the rest of them riding for Haven.