At Your Side (A Dragon Age fanfiction)

Not While I'm Around

Evelyn didn't know how long she'd remained crouched on the ground cradling the grotesque body in her arms. None of the others had moved or spoken, and she was grateful to them for the silence, because her mind was a clean, quiet space and she wanted to keep it that way. If she let sound and color in, she'd have to think about what had happened, and she wasn't ready for that.

Instead, she began making an orderly list in her head of what needed to be done. "Varric, go back to that ... room and find out the names of the other women he did this to."

"Right."

Slowly, not letting go of the last vestiges of her mother, Hawke got to her feet, Aveline's steadying hands helping her retain her balance. The body was remarkably light in Hawke's arms. Her mother had never been a very substantial woman, she thought, but there had been more to her than this. Evelyn swallowed hard, her throat swollen and aching. She couldn't give way yet; there was too much to do. Later, she promised herself. Later, with Bethany, then she could cry.

She moved like a mindless golem back through the tunnels of the blood mage's lair, only vaguely aware of someone holding a torch up so she could see. Aveline assisted again as Hawke carefully moved her precious burden through the trap door into the foundry, but Hawke couldn't accept help carrying her mother, not even from her oldest friend.

Hawke blinked as she emerged from the foundry, her eyes watering as the light outside stung them. It had been morning when they went inside; was it really only late afternoon now? Her legs moved as if of their own volition, step by step through Lowtown. She didn't pay any attention to the stares of the people she passed or their shocked questions.

Lowtown, she thought. There was something important she needed to do in Lowtown. Hawke racked her brain, her thoughts moving sluggishly.

"Aveline?"

"Yes, Hawke."

"Go get my uncle, please. Tell him ... tell him gently. Bring him to the Chantry."

"The Chantry?"

"For ... services." That was what you did with a dead person, wasn't it? You took them to the Chantry, where they were given a pyre and seen off on their way to the Maker.

"Of course," Aveline said.

As she moved up the steps from Lowtown into Hightown, Sebastian came running down them toward her. "Hawke! Oh, Hawke, I'm so sorry," he said. "Here, let me help you." He reached for the body's legs.

She shook her head mutely.

The prince nodded, his hand falling. "Of course. I'll ... go on ahead to the Chantry, Hawke, is that all right?"

She nodded. It would be easier if they were expecting the body.

Merrill was the next to appear, her eyes wide and sad.

Hawke looked away from the tender concern on the elf's face. "Merrill, can you go to my house and tell Bodahn and Orana and Sandal what happened? Bring them to the Chantry?"

"As you wish, lethallan."

How far was the damned Chantry, anyway? Her arms were burning, the weight no longer light. It occurred to her that she had left her sword behind, stuck through that dead mage's chest cavity. She couldn't go back for it. Maybe whoever Aveline detailed to go clean up that Maker-forsaken place would retrieve it for her.