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Fenris's heart felt like it would burst in his chest, beating hard enough to bruise his ribs, ice like claws gripped it like he had gripped so many others. It was odd, it was the very feeling he must have given others, ironically this felt more painful. No matter the pain- no, the anxiety- that took hold of him, he could not allow himself to look away from the rogue’s form. She was quick in every move in front of him, despite her limited space.
Katherine was circling around the Qunari Arishok, her daggers tight in her hands, so tight her knuckles were white, hands aimed to strike. Usually wide amber eyes were narrowed, mere slits staring, focused on the Qunari. Though her brow creased in concentration, anyone could read the fear on her face.
It had been he who had proposed that Hawke and the Arishok should duel, though the moment the words left his mouth he felt like a fool. If she were to die, it would be his fault; his and Isabela’s, she was not blameless with that stupid relic she still held close to her breasts. The pirate stood close to him, her own face mimicry of his own, she knew the odds of Katherine surviving. They all knew.
The Arishok launched himself forward, his arms up in an arc, the sword and ax he held in hand ready to kill in a single hit. The moment he rushed her, she was pushing her body to roll out of the way, coming up with the knives back against her forearms. Turning back to look at him, it took him little time to turn and rush at her again before she was trying to put one of the pillars between them.
Katherine had always been smaller, slight in her build, and the middle height of her siblings, but compared to the Qunari she felt like a roach. Though while he was muscle, she was quicker and much more nimble. Fenris, as he watched, would dare even call her much more graceful in her wrapping of leather. The proof continued as she seemed to be rushed repeatedly, dodging and blocking the larger weapons, outsmarting him.
Finally, however, the woman herself was outsmarted. Only one weapon was raised, the ax, and her eyes were watching as her body aimed to move. The moment she did, the side of the sword blade came from the other side. It slammed down behind her, hitting her in the back of the knees. Her companions on the side each made a move to call to her, every word coming too late as Katherine screamed out in pain, hitting the ground with a thud.
"This is over," were the first words uttered from the Arishok since the fight had begun, his tone flat, cold even. The point of his sword was down to her neck as he continued. “It’s time to die, basalit-an.”
Fenris heard the soft gasp from Isabela’s lips, and the muffled curses from both Anders and Varric. But he knew better than to think Katherine was as good as dead at that moment. He had learned as he stayed by her side for the three years, so far, that she was much too scrappy and stubborn to just give in. She was also a little too stupid, dying would have been the smart thing to do. She had to have some sort of way out, a back up plan, she’d slip out and do just fine. She had to.
The muscles in Katherine's legs were tensed, blood dripping from the gashes that had unstabilized her. One dagger thrown had been aside, methodically even, the other was in her left hand. Her fingers twitched, right hand reaching for something on her belt, and in that second, Fenris knew what she was planning. It was as if he were there where she was, as he watched it unfold, knowing step for step her every action.
Not a second before the Arishok could make his move to slit her throat, she was pushing herself back, bringing her foot up to kick the blade back. It was followed by a flask leaving her hand, the glass shattering against her opponent, earning a pained sound in the confusion. That was the moment she used most to her advantage. While he was stunned, Katherine pushed herself up, and flung herself forward against him, her singular knife used in half a flurry of quick aimed blows. It only ended when she shoved the blade deep, twisted, and pulled it back out.
Fenris placed one foot forward, almost instinctively, his hands clenched into tight fists as steel gauntlets dug into his bare palms, the warmth of his own blood oozing softly from the indentations. The feeling of anxiety felt so foreign, the more it settled within him the more he hated it, and yet it could not be shaken. If something bad happened to her…if she could not act in time….he couldn’t think about it. There needed to be trust, faith, just like always. But she needed to move faster, that one wound wouldn’t stop him, it would barely even slow him, really, much less stop him.
The Arishok let out a yowl of pain as he knocked Hawke to the ground once more. She hit it with another thud and a loud shriek, losing her second dagger. It left her completely unarmed, knocked back on her ass and scrambling as she scooted herself back like a wounded dog. An arm was wrapped around her side, her ribs would be bruised from all the battering, though her entire body would have seen better days.
The way she was moving so frantically, eyes wide, blood smearing beneath her on the rugs, it really was like a cornered animal. This was it. Biting his tongue, Fenris tried to tear his eyes away, yet it was a nightmare he could not look away from. He felt a hand pull at his, though he knew it was Isabela’s. She had stopped looking, her eyes tight, chin pulled in. Her hand was tight against his, squeezing hard. It felt like their fault, the next few seconds were their fault.
The Qunari leader stood there, over Hawke, his large frame looming over her. His shadow engulfed her near completely, furthering the comparison that the human was a bug to be squashed. As if to prove such a statement, he was lifting his boot, bringing it down- hard- on her foreleg. Even from the sidelines, they could all hear as it crunched, followed by a blood chilling scream from the woman beneath the warrior. No time was wasted as he moved to grab her arm next, holding her up like a prize, pinned there.
“You think yourself clever, but let us keep you from trying anything else.”
Even had she wished to respond, her chest was heaving in the best attempt to just keep a breath. Katherine was gasping, shaking her head as she almost begged and whined, tears staining her cheeks. Fenris seemed to make up for her lack of verbal response, the spitting and hissing of curses from the sidelines never ceased, held still only by the pirate who was holding him there.
“Rushing in gets her killed,” the voice was soft, as she had inched closer. “We can save her, there’s…we can. We will.” there were words unsaid, hesitation in her tone, but no follow up to pry. It wasn’t the time.
It seemed impossible, and only worse as they watched her get pushed back against the pillar she had cornered herself against. Without hesitation, the Arishok took his sword as the weapon of choice, and pushed it right through the woman he was holding up. The image burned itself into his mind, and the sounds rang in his ears, echoing chilling screams.
There was so much blood, down the sword, dripping down the pillar, staining everything as it pooled. Katherine was sobbing still, weak hands pushing against the blade shoved through her abdomen, as if that would remove it, that would save her. She was pinned, and the Qunari leader was leaning in close as if to taunt his victory.
“I give it you tried, basalit-an, but I think we are done.” there was no question, and he seemed to remain just as cold as he always was. As he continued, however, it was his gaze that fell to the side first, settling to Isabela and Fenris, before he turned his head to them. “Now, thief, I will deal with you.”
As he spoke, Katherine seemed to fidget, her good hand digging in a sheath on her thigh. A gasp tore itself from her lips as her body was shifted on the blade of the sword, but she came back with a smaller knife in hand. With the Arishok staring Isabela down, it was just before he made a move to step away, that Fenris watched as Katherine shoved the knife down into the side of his neck. She seemed to tear and twist with what range she had, before ripping it away, and falling back with her weight against the pillar.
The knife clattered to the floor, just as the Arishok fell to his knees, hands clasping at his bleeding throat. He was choking, words unable to be spoken as blood gushed from the wound. It pooled faster than Hawke’s, and she could only grin, something weak upon her sweaty features.
“We weren’t done playing, oh..sorry, now we are.”
It was the moment he was down, the moment things stood still, that Fenris had pulled himself from Isabela. He was pushing himself forward, fully driven by panic. The only one to beat him to Hawke was Anders, and for once, he was not upset. There was only so much time, but where was there to even begin?
“Should we take it out?” The voice to startle him from staring for a moment was Isabela. “We’re going to have to, aren’t we? But won’t she bleed out?”
“It’s more a matter of the blood,” Anders didn’t miss a beat, though he did not look back from the wound. Already his hands were covered in such, working around the blade carefully. “Nothing extremely fatal was hit, it’s too low, but…” then he looked back. “I need someone else to pull it out, one to hold her, and I will do what I can for her. Can you all do that?”
“You have the best chance of holding her,” Varric shoved himself both verbally, and literally, in between them. There was a quick little gesture, just as he looked between him and Isabela. “Rivaini and I will deal with the sword, you hold her. C’mon.”
“Right. I…right.” Though he wasn’t aware he was, Fenris was already moving to do his part. The only thing that made him pause again, was when he was met with the outstretched bloody hand of Katherine, and a soft smile as she looked down at him.
“Hey you’re cute, come here often?” her words were soft, not in their usual gentle demeanor, but in something much weaker. It was terrifying to hear from her. “That captain too. Oh, I’m surrounded by pretty people.”
“You shouldn’t talk.” the reply was curt, to the point, as he reached to hold the weight of her. Primarily that meant holding her legs to bear her weight, though he was careful of the cuts there as well. As he did, however, even that seemed to help her, that outstretched hand coming to hook itself around him for a little extra bolstered support.
“Will you, then?” her request was faint, but still she offered a small smile. “You know I hate the quiet. Especially now.” Part of him wished to get it all done with, rip the sword out, patch her up, and move forward already a year to see her happy again. But that wasn’t possible, that wasn’t how things would work, right now there was this, something small he could do for her.
Before he could answer, there was a long, side glance to the others. It was that moment that offered a break, Anders intervening as he offered up a piece of fabric.
“Do as you will, but..Hawke, bite this. Then,” the mage spoke, instructing her to open her mouth and he situated the wad of cotton properly. It would have to do. He then looked to the rogues at the other end of the sword. “Pull.”
Before they could move, Katherine was looking back to Fenris, smiling so softly around it. Just as she had, he was scrambling to speak moments later, when he could feel her fall down into his arms, her face contorting in pain, sounds muffled as the sword was pulled from her body.
“The first winter we were together,” the words fell quickly, as if to make up for seconds lost. “When it snowed the first time, that one, do you remember the night back from the Hanged Man? I had to borrow a pair of Isabela’s boots back to the manor. You had too much to drink, too, and thought it was funny to throw snow, but you missed.” the more he spoke, the more and more the warmth in his own chest seemed to settle, recalling the event. “I didn’t though, and you thought it was so funny. Snow in your hair, it meant we matched.”
The words just seemed to keep coming, as she settled against him, the calm hitting her. He was kneeling, letting her rest there in his arms, allowing Anders the room he needed to work. As each second passed however, Katherine’s eyes fluttered, her head lulling back, before finally exhaustion caught up with her. Just after, the glow from Ander’s magic, which pulled together her wounds, dimmed until it was gone, and the mage wiped at his brow.
“Is she alright?” Isabela was peering around him, almost like a cat, though Varric wasn’t much better.
“She has to be, right Blondie, patched right as rain?”
“Just asleep, but I’ve done what I can for now.” There was a long pause, and he leaned back on his knees, looking back at Fenris. “Let’s get her home. Only time will tell from now.”
There was nothing else to be said. He merely stood, adjusting Katherine with such care in his arms as he turned to leave. From the pain that had been on her face, she now looked so peaceful, it felt almost unnatural, but so much better than before. At least it was better, it was an improvement. She was going to make it, no matter the previous choices. She had to.
“Let’s get the others,” were the last words he heard from behind him. “And Rivaini…take the bastard’s things.”
“Already on it.”