Chapter Text
9:37 Dragon, Kirkwall
The City of Chains was burning. Kirkwall's spiritual heart had been destroyed, her lifeblood spilling forth and staining Hightown's pristine streets red. The cacophony of terrified screams, mages chanting and Templar steel was deafening as Kirkwall’s Champion and his companions stood frozen on the steps of the Gallows.
"...for it is fleeting. You have brought Sin to Heaven, and doom upon all the world." Sharp elven ears picked up the Chantry brother's whispered prayer, Sebastian's lilting brogue unmistakable. Fenris turned toward the man whom Sebastian had directed his holy accusation.
The abomination’s eyes glowed an unearthly blue as the demon within him spoke in a commanding tone. "There can be no quarter, no compromise, only Justice."
"Blondie... what have you done?" Varric murmured, seemingly lost for words at last.
"He wants to die, let him!" Fenris scoffed.
Anders, if the abomination could rightly be called ‘Anders’ any longer, sat calmly on a crate and bowed his head, awaiting his fate. The man looked so much smaller, so much more tired than he had moments before with Justice at the helm. The demon seemed to have retreated now, content to leave Anders to the fate he'd help him earn. There was Justice for you. Coward.
Hawke stepped forward, as he always did when no one else would, and approached the mage. "Tell me," he whispered as he leaned in to clasp Anders' shoulder, "Tell me you regret this. Tell me you want to try to make this right."
Fenris strained to make out the abomination's murmured reply, but it hardly mattered, Hawke could never kill him and Fenris had known it all along. Why is Hawke giving the abomination yet another chance?! Fenris thought furiously, though he already knew the answer. Because it was what Hawke did. It was simply who he was. Hawke was the man that had taken a thieving pirate, a Guard Captain and a blood mage and not only turned them into a fighting force to be reckoned with, but somehow managed to inspire true friendship and loyalty in all of them.
Hawke was the man who saw something of worth in an angry runaway slave all those years ago. The elf's fingertips brushed the frayed red scrap of fabric that never left his wrist. Even if Hawke had moved on without him, Fenris would never forget the compassion and patience he had shown him. There was no one he trusted more. That trust did not extend to the abomination however, and it never would.
"Fenris, please, there's no one else I trust on this." Hawke pleaded.
"Why would you even think of asking me this Hawke?! I thought the abomination should die, now you ask me to guard him?!" Fenris snapped in reply.
"It's because you aren't his friend that you have to do this. I trust you to take him down if he... goes too far." Hawke grasped Fenris' bicep and squeezed.
The elf shrugged the other man's hand away, "Too far?! How much further does he need to go Hawke?!" Fenris gestured angrily toward the smoldering remains of the Chantry.
"I trust you to make that call Fenris. I can't trust myself to be able to do it. I... I just can't..." Hawke’s eyes pleaded for Fenris to understand, and suddenly he did, all too well.
Fenris glared, anger and hurt warring in his eyes, "You were in love with the abomination?"
Hawke floundered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. "Fenris, it’s... I.... it’s complicated." He finished with a sigh, looking down and avoiding the elf's gaze.
Fenris grit his teeth and subconsciously twisted the red band on his wrist. "Isn't it always?"
"Fenris, I'm sor-"
"Don't!" A gauntleted hand swept in front of Hawke, cutting off whatever platitudes he might utter. Fenris didn't want his pity. "Fine Hawke! I will see that he causes no more harm until he either reaches the Wardens or," Fenris held up a hand to forestall the question forming on Hawke's lips, "Or until he faces judgement for his crimes. If the Templars or the Guard come for him they will get no fight from me. He asked for this Hawke, even if you will not see it. I will not let him die needlessly, do not ask more of me than that."
"Thank you Fe-" Fenris swatted at the hand Hawke reached out and stormed away.
Fenris knew he was being manipulated, he could feel the strings pulling him to do something against his will. He had simply traded one master for another, and he hated himself that he was still allowing it. It seemed where Hawke was concerned he would always be a willing slave.
Fenris punched the wall of a Hightown manor, chunks of white brick crumbling under his gauntlet. No! Never again! Fenris was no man's slave. Perhaps once Fenris had been more to Hawke, but now? The sweet words he and Hawke had breathed between them all those years ago, foolish whispers of love as their bodies surged together, they now tasted like ashes in his mouth.
His clawed gauntlet made quick work of the flimsy crimson cloth tying his heart to Hawke. It fluttered uselessly to the ground like the burning embers of the city around him.
Fenris steeled his heart and headed back to the Gallows, his course clear.
Two men stood in a darkened alcove of the Gallows, their heads bent together in whispered conversation, one blond and one stark white.
"This is a piece of his coat, it has the abomination's blood on it. I saw him hold it to his wound myself."
Knight Commander Cullen hesitantly took the bloodied cloth from the tattooed elf's gauntleted hand. "I can't say I don't appreciate this Fenris, but... isn't the apostate a friend of yours?"
Fenris spat angrily, "Vishante kaffas! The abomination is no friend of mine."
Cullen furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Then why not simply bring him here now? Why go all the way to Ferelden only to give us the means to track him down after the fact?"
"I made a promise I would see him safely there, but I made no promises as to what happens to him once he arrives."
A chill ran down Cullen's spine at the elf's cold pronouncement. He nodded and stowed the stained scrap of fabric under the breast plate of his armor.