For @daheroweek - thank you so much for hosting/running I've loved doing this! Definitely need to write more drabbles in future.
Today is a free day, so I wrote the aftermath of the Gallows, the moment when Hawke runs. At some point I want to write a decent length fic about the grief and recovery over that night, but for now this will do :)
Thank you, everyone, who has liked/commented/reblogged! <3
They left Kirkwall at nightfall as chaos continued to reign.
A tip-off had come from Cullen that the Seekers of Truth were on their way, that a delegation of Orlesian Templars were due to land in the city and help reassert control. They would not take kindly to the apostate Champion who'd slain the Knight-Commander. Rumours abound that the Divine would call an Exalted March, and after his conversation with the Left Hand of the Divine only a week before, Hawke didn't doubt it.
It had been a very long week.
"I'll run," Hawke had said, standing in the ruins of his estate - one of two dozen in Hightown that had been too close to the blast, the foundations giving way due to the tunnels that riddled the city. The old Harimann place had collapsed entirely, revealing the ancient Tevinter ruins beneath. It felt a little like an additional insult, in the circumstances. "Give them something to hunt - to blame."
"No," Fenris had growled, "You are not to blame for this, Hawke."
He'd managed a tired smile at the elf.
"Has that ever mattered?" He had asked. "What would you have me do, Fenris? Stay here and wait for arrest?"
That was an even worse option, and so they left, a pack of their belongings and the open road ahead of them. Varric and Aveline had been there to see them off. Hawke kept his hood pulled up, the Kaddis gone from the bridge of his nose. He took Pumpkin, though, old as she was. He couldn't lose her, too.
They were too obvious - Fenris, with his white hair and lyrium brands. Hawke, the most recognisable apostate in the Free Marches. They'd leave an obvious trail for the Chantry to follow - at least, at first.
"Isabela will meet you in Ostwick," Varric had said, "And drop you in Antiva City."
From there, Arlathan - the massive expanse of ancient elven forest. And on the other side, the last place anyone would look for them. Tevinter.
Hawke interlocked his fingers with the elf's as they walked down the road, determined to not look back.
"Thank you," he said quietly, "For staying at my side."
Unsaid - I would have given up if you hadn't. I still might. Help me, I can't see an end to this that doesn't end in death and violence. There is so much blood on my hands.
Fenris squeezed his hand, still watching their path.
It was enough. It had to be enough. He let Fenris lead the way, one foot in front of the other.
