#and fenris has only ever seen harm and terror at the hands of mages

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #2

Dragon Age - #2 - “Pick Who Dies”

*

“Thank you,” the woman whispered, tears in her eyes as she embraced Anders. “You saved her life.”

Anders hugged her back, knowing that sometimes the parents needed more comfort than the children. “It’s what I’m here for. If she has any complications at all, bring her right back here.”

“Thank you, thank you!” She wiped at her eyes and pulled away from Anders. “Without you she would’ve...I couldn’t afford a doctor and…”

“It’s alright.” Anders offered her a smile. “Why not go take her outside for some fresh air before it gets dark? I’m sure she’d like that.”

“Yes, of course.” The woman turned and lifted her young daughter into her arms. “Kaitlin, what do you say to the nice doctor?”

“Thank you, mister,” she said, her voice weak but her eyes bright. 

Anders ruffled her hair. “Take care of your mother, okay?”

“Okay!” She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and snuggled against her.

Anders watched them go, waiting until they were out of sight before sagging against the wall with exhaustion. The girl had gotten injured, and the wound had gotten badly infected. Anders hadn’t even been positive he’d be able to save her, but he was beyond relieved he’d pulled it off. 

He straightened up as two people entered, but then slumped back again when he realized it was just Varric and Fenris. Fenris looked him over and raised an eyebrow.

“Looking rough, mage,” he said.

Anders wasn’t in the mood for him today. “I just spent hours pouring my magic into a little girl to keep her from dying of an infection. How was your day, Fenris?” 

“Not now, you two,” Varric said, putting his hands out. “Anders, have you seen Hawke?”

“Hawke?” Anders furrowed his brow. “No. I left early this morning to come here, and he was still asleep. I haven’t seen him since. Why?”

“We can’t find him or Junior,” Varric said. “We asked around- not that the Templars are fans of us -but no one has seen either Hawke brother. Last we knew, they were meeting up this morning.”

“We sent the others out to search for them,” Fenris said. “No one has returned yet, so I’m assuming they’re still missing.”

“But,” Varric said, holding up a note. “I did find this very ominous note.”

He held it out and Anders took it. He unfolded the note, and on it was simply written, “Mines, nightfall”. 

“It’s almost nightfall now,” Anders said, looking up at them. “Do you think this is related?”

“Do you think it’s not? I wouldn’t put it past Hawke to get himself kidnapped,” Fenris said.

“Hawke, yes. Junior tends to be a little more vigilant, though. That’s what’s got me worried,” Varric said, taking the note back and pocketing it. “I say we go check it out. It’s too late to round everyone up, but the three of us should be enough if we run into any trouble.”

Anders wasn’t so sure about that. His magic was weak from saving that little girl.

But if Hawke was in trouble, he had to go. “Let’s go now. We’ll just make it in time if we hurry.” 

He grabbed his staff and followed the two of them out, fighting past his exhaustion and struggling just to keep up as they hurried through the streets. Still, he pushed on, worry creeping in.

Hawke was known for a lot of things, but disappearing without a word wasn’t one of them. After what had happened to Karl, Hawke was always sure to let Anders know when he’d be going somewhere so Anders wouldn’t worry. 

And Varric was right; Hawke might not always be vigilant, but Carver usually was. Especially since he’d joined the Templars, he’d be hard to catch off guard.

The closer they got to the mines, the more Anders worried. The other two had grim expressions on their faces, probably thinking along the same lines. 

Night had just fallen when they reached the mines, and Anders didn’t care for the darkness. It would be too easy to catch them by surprise, and with his magic depleted, he wouldn’t be much help in a fight. If Hawke was injured and Anders couldn’t heal him…

No. No, he’d give himself over to Justice before he let his own uselessness cost Hawke. 

They cautiously entered the mines, prepared for anything. It was quiet in there; far too quiet.

“This is bad news,” Varric muttered.

“And once again, we need to rescue Kirkwall’s beloved hero,” Fenris said with a sigh. “How does he get himself into these messes?”

“Wait.” Anders put an arm out. “Listen.”

Sure enough, after a few moments of silence, they heard the faintest sound of footsteps coming from one of the side tunnels. They glanced at each other and nodded, readying their weapons and creeping towards the footsteps.

They rounded into the tunnel, ready for a fight. Instead, they all froze.

“About damn time,” a man said, a blade held to Hawke’s throat. Next to him stood another man, his blade to Carver’s throat.

Both brothers were bound at the wrists and ankles, their mouths gagged. A thin line of blood had bloomed on both necks from how close the blades were pressed.

And Anders knew, with a sick certainty, that Hawke had complied with his capture only to keep his brother alive. If he had used his magic, he could’ve free himself, but risked getting Carver’s throat slit. 

“Let me guess, someone hired you to kill them?” Varric said, slowly lowering Bianca. “How original.”

The one holding Hawke hostage scoffed. “You lot have been meddling where you shouldn’t. Our employer wanted to send a very clear message.” He tightened his hold on the knife. “So, since you three showed up, you get to make the decision. Pick who dies.”

Anders felt cold.

He pictured Karl, dead in his arms. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t bear it. 

Not Hawke. 

“Now hold on-” Varric started.

Both knives pressed closer to their throats. Blood began to drip down in a steadier stream, and both winced.

“No negotiations. You have two minutes to decide, or we slit both their throats,” the man said. “This is what you get for sticking your noses where they don’t belong. You’ll have to make a sacrifice.”

Hawke caught Anders’s eyes. He flicked a pleading gaze to Carver. 

“You’re not making it out of this alive,” Fenris promised both captors, tightening his grip on his sword.

“Neither is one of them. Or both, if you can’t hurry it up.” The man smirked. “The troublesome Hawke, or his little brother who got caught up in it all? Clock’s ticking.” 

Anders tried to see a way out of this, but he couldn’t. And he could tell by the slump of their shoulders that neither could Varric and Fenris. 

One wrong move, and both were dead in an instant. Anders didn’t have enough magic in him to heal them. 

Hawke kept flicking his gaze to Carver, silently pleading with his friends to save his little brother’s life. He’d already lost so much. Anders knew that losing Carver like this, knowing it could’ve been him instead, would kill Hawke just as surely as any blade. 

“Time’s up. Pick, or watch them both die. Doesn’t matter to us,” the man said.

And the terror in Hawke’s gaze as he looked to his brother broke something in Anders.

He felt everything drowning out, a rush of anger and power surging through him. He had failed Karl, but he would not fail Hawke.

“What the hell?” one of the captors cried.

“Not him.” The voice was booming and furious, a mix of Anders and Justice.

Hawke was a friend to the mages, the spirits. Justice would not let harm come to him. Anders would not let harm come to him.

Their power erupted.

The magic was powerful, blinding. Anders heard screams, though they rang distant in his ears as he struggled to cling to some part of his mind as Justice took over.

And then he blinked, and he was on the ground, body trembling.

“Up, mage,” Fenris urged. “They need your healing.”

Anders’s head ached terribly, his body stiff and sore. But he let Fenris drag him over to where Hawke and Carver laid, still bound and gagged. Their captors were dead behind them, and Anders knew the work of magic when he saw it.

“C’mon, Chuckles, stay with me,” Varric said, getting the gag out of Hawke’s mouth and tackling his bindings. “Fenris, get Carver.” 

Anders dropped next to Hawke, but Hawke shook his head weakly. “Carver first.” 

“But-” Anders started desperately, aware his magic was fading again. He’d gotten the burst from Justice, but he didn’t know if it’d last.

“Anders,” Hawke said, looking him in the eyes. “Please.”

Anders loved Hawke. And so he turned and used the rest of his magic to heal Carver, who had gotten caught on the side of his throat by the knife.

When that was taken care of, Carver slumped back in Fenris’s arms. “Bloody mages.”

“I hear you,” Fenris said. “What even happened?”

“Garrett and I met for breakfast to discuss a matter concerning our Uncle, and one of those men ran for us, saying something had happened to Gamlen and we had to come quickly. We were ambushed after that.” He looked to Hawke. “Garrett?”

“Dying,” Hawke said, his voice strained in pain. “Bother me later, you pain in the ass.” 

“Later?” Carver said hopefully.

“Dying, but I’ll be fine in a few days. Probably.” Hawke reached out a hand, and Anders caught it. “You alright?”

Hawke was bloodied and exhausted, but he was worried about Anders. Anders put a gentle hand to Hawke’s face.

“If you ever put us in a situation like that again, I will gladly end you myself,” he assured. 

“Yep, you’re fine,” Hawke said. 

Anders carefully examined his injuries. He was hurt, but nothing looked fatal. Anders pulled Hawke up so he could hug him, mindful of his wounds.

“You’re okay,” he said quietly, more to assure himself.

“Thanks to you. I owe you,” Hawke said, dropping his head on Anders’s shoulder. “But first I need stitches and a nap.”

“So dramatic,” Carver said, but he looked relieved. 

“We never even got to have breakfast,” Hawke said miserably. “I’m starving. They kept us in here all damn day.”

“Let’s get you back to the clinic so I can look after your wounds,” Anders said, but found himself struggling to stand. “Sorry, I...I used a lot of magic on a sick child earlier.”

“‘Sorry I saved a kid so I can’t fix up your cuts, Hawke’,” Hawke mocked. “Honestly, just shut up and let’s both go take a nap. The stitches and breakfast can wait. I’m as exhausted as you look. Fenris, Varric, Carver, help us, uh, move.”

“So needy,” Carver said, but carefully helped his brother up, his grip tighter than necessary. “You’re okay?”

“I will be,” Hawke assured. He held a hand out to Anders. “Up. I can’t pull you up, but I can hold your hand while Fenris gets you off your ass, at least.”

“A true romantic,” Anders said, but allowed Fenris to help him up. 

“I’ll go find the others and let them know we’ve got them back,” Varric said. He put a hand on Hawke’s shoulder. “Glad you cheated death again, Chuckles.”

“It is my favorite hobby, afterall,” Hawke said. 

Their group left in a huddle, trying to support Hawke and Anders. With their heads so close together, Hawke lowered his voice.

“Thank you. You saved my brother,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want you to lose those you love,” Anders said. 

“You are one of those people. So as indebted as I currently am to Justice, try to keep yourself in charge of that body,” Hawke said. “Also, I’m glad blood doesn’t bother you. Because I am going to cuddle the ever-loving shit out of you and I’m not bathing first.”

“Oh, Hawke,” Anders said, but gave him an affectionate smile.

He’d never forget the terror of that moment, seeing that blade pressed to Hawke’s neck and the pleading in his gaze. But Hawke was okay, even as the blood began to dry on his neck. He was okay, and Carver was okay, and Anders would cuddle the ever-loving shit out of Hawke as they slept safely in their bed together, and he wouldn’t take a damn second of it for granted.