At Your Side (A Dragon Age fanfiction)

Satinalia

Hawke kicked the door in as soon as she heard the feeble scream from within. Over Hawke's shoulder, Fenris could see a blonde woman kneeling at the feet of a man who wore the embroidered clothing of a noble. At the splintering of the door the girl looked frantically in their direction, relief dawning in her eyes as they stepped through the door's remains. Obviously, the nobleman was guilty of something terrifying, Fenris thought as the girl scrambled toward them, if a heavily armored woman, a dwarf with a massive crossbow, a mage in a moth-eaten coat, and a tattooed elf seemed safer.

"Please help me," the girl begged. "He took my blood! He's going to do something—"

"Run," Hawke said grimly. The blonde needed no further prompting, and hurried from the room.

"Wait, no!" the nobleman protested. "You do not understand."

"I think we do, blood mage," Anders sneered.

"I needed her blood to track her! That is all."

They'd been sent to the home of this nobleman, Gascard DuPuis, on the word of the Templar Emeric that DuPuis was his best suspect in the disappearances and murders of several women from Kirkwall. The disappearances went back several years. Before the expedition into the Deep Roads, they had found body parts belonging to the missing women in an abandoned foundry.

"Tell me another one," Hawke said.

"No, you do not understand," DuPuis said. "This man, this monster—he took my sister! I am certain that he murdered her."

"Which man is that, exactly?"

"He is a killer of women. They are taken from their homes and never seen again. He is here, in Kirkwall! If I do not stop him, he will kill again." He gestured wildly at the door the blonde had gone through. "Alessa was to be next. He even sent her the lilies. You must believe me!"

"And the vials of blood we found in your home?" Fenris asked.

DuPuis didn't bother to look at the elf, his eyes remaining on Hawke. "Yes, I have used blood magic and lyrium, but only to augment my powers."

"Why not tell the guards what you knew, if you're so close to finding him?" Varric asked.

"Because I do not want him imprisoned," DuPuis said, clenching his fists. "I want his blood dripping from my fingers."

"Vivid," Hawke said. She cast a look over her shoulder at Fenris. Was she remembering that he had said something similar about Danarius and comparing Fenris to this slimy snake before them? Fenris hoped not. His emotions—his very thoughts—had been in turmoil since she had revealed her attraction to him, but he didn't want her to see him as some kind of revenge-obsessed maniac. "Nonetheless," Hawke continued, "I don't think I believe you." She drew her sword.

"No!" DuPuis' eyes widened in panic. "You must not! I am too close for it to end here!" He muttered a few incomprehensible words, jabbing himself in the hand with a small pocketknife.

"Maker's balls," groaned Anders as shades rose from every shadow in the room. "I hate blood mages."

"For once, abomination," Fenris ground out, drawing his own sword, "we agree on something." He leapt into the air, his sword coming down through the dark mass of one of the shades. Bianca cried out behind him, Varric shouting his usual fulsome praise for his beloved weapon. Fenris found himself side by side with Hawke, their blades moving in concert, slicing into the burning manifestation of rage that rose before them. She cast him a wild grin as the rage demon disappeared in a shower of sparks.