Work Text:
Fenris watched Hawke with unmasked impatience as the latter stared at Anders, his lips thinned in fatigue. “Kill him,” he said softly, but warily. He knew Hawke considered the healer among his friends – knew how much this betrayal was costing him.
“It’s done… it’s done…” Anders barely noticed what was happening around him. He sat on the Chantry’s winding steps, face buried in his hands as his shoulders heaved in a tearless sob.
Fenris made a move to approach Hawke when a sudden movement in the shadows caught his eyes. “Mage,” he hissed between his teeth, eyes narrowing at the small group hooded figures that walked towards them. The air around the hooded figures cackled in familiar energy and an icy breeze fluttered the ends of their worn cloaks.
Hawke released the breath he was holding and tore his gaze away from Anders towards the nearing silent figures. He welcomed the momentary distraction the new comers brought. His grip on his staff tightened, body coiling in anticipation of battle.
“Peace,” The shorter one, who seemed to be the leader of the group drew his hood down. “I’m not here to fight you.”
Anders made a small, shocked noise from behind Hawke, but Hawke kept his eyes on the strange elf. The new comer had auburn colored hair that brushed past his shoulder and eyes that seemed to stare him down despite the fact that the elf was even shorter than Fenris. The elf’s face betrayed no emotion, just a mask of calm serenity – as if the city all around them had not just erupted into chaos.
A second hooded figure drew their attention, pulling the hood down and smiling widely at them, “I didn’t think I’d see you so soon, Champion,” Zevran greeted them with a sweeping bow.
Hawke blinked in mild surprise, “You… what are you still doing here?”
His question was ignored as the auburn haired elf spoke, “My name is Yule Surana,” he said. His voice was soft, but there was no escaping the authority it held, “I’m here to request that you hand him over to me.” Yule’s dark eyes stared straight at Anders, and the healer seemed to shrink under the weight of his gaze.
Fenris cursed under his breath, “The abomination doesn’t escape the consequences of his actions that easily.”
“What would you have him do then?” Yule raised a brow at Fenris, unfazed by the ex-slave’s hostility.
Hawke’s jaw tightened, “Who are you?”
“A grey warden,” Yule replied, catching Hawke’s gaze. “I will take care of him.”
Him –not this, Hawke sighed inwardly, there was no escaping the conflict between Meredith and Orsino after all.
“There is no way for him to take responsibility now,” the Warden continued, “Not at this moment, not here. He can serve his purpose with me.”
“He pays for this with his life,” Fenris growled, his hand moving to the sword strapped on his back in violent display of temper.
“Let go of your weapon,” a soft whisper, low and husky, followed the cold blade of a dagger pressed against Fenris’ nape. Zevran poised his daggers with deathly precision, his eyes glinting and a smirk curving his lips. “I suggest you reconsider your attitude to my Warden.”
Fenris let out an angry shout, his lyrium marking glowing when Hawke shouted, “Stop – Fenris, don’t.” But Hawke pointed his staff towards Yule, “If he hurts a hair, Warden or not, there is no forgiving.”
The Warden smirked, stepping forward until the pointed end of Hawke’s staff was against his soft robes, “You can’t win against me,” he declared and Hawke tensed at his words. It wasn’t a taunt – just a simple declaration of fact that made Hawke itch to try. “Zev,” at Yule’s soft call, the assassin was back to his side again, pushing Hawke’s staff away from the Warden's chest and grinning brightly at them as if he hadn’t almost caused a fight to erupt.
“Enough of this,” Yule sighed, rubbing his temples, “Will you kill him? That much I need to know.”
The sudden flash of indecision coupled with pain burned Hawke’s eyes and the gnawing annoyance left him restless. Finally he relented, sighing. “Take him, kill him. At this point, I fail to see why it has anything to do with me.” The words were like acid in his mouth, fresh with the taste of betrayal.
“Commander I –“ Anders fumbled for words, eyes beseeching towards the Warden.
Yule frowned, for a moment his eyes looked tender, “I’m no longer that to you when you abandoned me years ago.”
“Then why?"
Yule’s eyes flickered towards Hawke, taking a moment to phrase his words properly. “It only seems fitting, that to the hell you’ve brought them, I will bring you back to the hell you thought you’ve escaped.”
Hawke turned to him and they nod in acknowledgement, a bitter sort of understanding coming through them for a moment. Yule stood as other Wardens took hold of Anders, "Good luck, Champion."
There was a wry humor in his words, and somehow Hawke thought that the Warden was speaking to himself.