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Anders watched with baited breath from behind a line of stalwart Qunari, their arms crossed as they watched their Arishok face off against the much smaller, human mage. Every swing from the Arishoks massive greatsword earned him a wince, Anders’ hands twitching closer to his staff, to try to help her in some small way, to heal the cuts and bruises that littered her body, and were growing with each passing second they faced one another.
Hawke’s hair was matted, stuck to her cheeks as she heaved great, shuddering breaths through her mouth. The Arishok stepped forward with a growl, canines bared in a feral snarl as he sauntered towards Hawke. Anders felt a sense of pride as her features hardened, bright eyes narrowing as she readjusts her grip on her staff, her hands curving around the smoothed wooden handle easily, ready to react to whatever came next.
He tries to stifle his gasp as the Arishok launches himself at her, his loud yell ripping through the silent air of the throne room. Hawke launches herself to the side, landing heavily on her shoulder with a groan of pain, before she turns swiftly, muttering under her breath as she launches a large fireball right into the Arishoks path, blazing a path across the large Qunari’s skin, sending his arms shuddering against the pain, which allows Hawke to once again dodge a shaky strike from the Qunari, before shards of ice launch from the floor, spearing him through the side, though not as deep as she had hoped.
She quickly uses the time to gulp down a healing potion, her hands trembling from the lyrium she’d just ingested minutes earlier. They were both wearing thin, panting hard and sweat coating their bodies, but the Arishok had lost more blood than Hawke, and he didn’t have the advantage of barriers and healing spells like Hawke did.
But the Arishok had his brute strength and stamina, countering Hawke’s quick witted nature and her ease of movement, darting across the throne room as the Arishok threw himself at her again and again, only just scraping by, barely having time to turn and throw spells at the Arishok before he was upon her again with increased vigour.
Anders’ hands were now trembling with the effort it took to hold still, to stay rooted on that damned step and watch her break herself on the body of the Arishok. He was so desperate to run in to help her, biting his lip so hard he tasted the acrid ooze of his own blood from the now split lip he was sporting.
The next few seconds seemed to move as if stranded in time, each of the two combatants moving through their space as if striding through toffee. The Arishok charged, righting himself much quicker than before. Anders could hear the rough squelch of the huge blade hitting Hawke’s stomach, slicing through sinew as if it was nothing but slightly melted butter. Her eyes went wide, mouth agape in disbelief as she felt the blade sink deep, nicking bone as blood spattered the tiles beneath her booted feet.
He could hear the scream of horror coming from his own mouth but couldn’t bring himself to care. His heart leaping into his throat as he watched her lifeblood spill out Across the marble.
He could see the Qunari standing in front of him snarling in glee as Hawke stumbled, only catching herself at the last second with her staff. Her mouth curves into a feral grin as the sword is yanked free, sending a wild spray of crimson droplets into the startled crowd.
Hawke turns her eyes to his for a fraction of a second, and he knows she sees his absolute terror written across his face. She sends him a miniscule smile, reassuring him that everything was going to be alright, before she turns back to the Arishok and summons an amount of magic he’d not felt since the Warden-Commander defended Amarinthine.
The air cooled rapidly around her, icicles clinging to her hands and spiderwebbing down her staff, before a bright strike of lightning flew across the room, culminating in a massive storm cloud above her head, blacker than night and hissing with energy as she moved. The ice broke out across the floor, trapping the Arishok where he stood, a look a pure terror frozen against his features as the storm took effect, lightning battering his body whilst small daggers of ice rained down across his body, spearing straight through his chest in some places.
Then, with a loud battle cry, Hawke pushed off the tiles with her staff, swinging it in a wide arc that had her thick staff blade connecting with the Arishoks neck, a dull ‘thunk’ echoing through the hall as it met bone. Blood spattered across her cheeks and neck, which was then smeared over her nose as she wiped at it with a gloved hand.
The Arishok fell to the ground, the pounding of his knees glancing off the walls as the crowd stood, stunned into silence as Hawke lifted her staff again and severed the Qunari’s head clean from his body. The head bounced across the floor, before rolling to a stop at the remaining Qunari’s feet, now unseeing as glassy eyes stared into oblivion for the last time.
Anders looked up from the head of the Arishok as Hawke fell backwards, landing on the floor in a heap as her wounds took their toll. “No! Don’t be dead! Please!” he cries, rushing through the crowd to kneel beside her limp form.
Her breathing was laboured, blood oozing out from between her fingertips, staining her robes crimson as it soaked up the precious fluid. He instantly drew upon his magic, watching her eyes slip in and out of focus as he reached inside to knit her flesh back together. A moan slipped past her lips as he began, trying to heal back muscle and sinew as quickly as possible, but the colour was fading from her cheeks, and he knew that if he wasn’t quick he could lose her forever.
He could lose her before he’d even had the chance to tell her exactly how he felt.
How his eyes lit up when he saw her, that his stomach erupted into butterflies like a lovesick teenager whenever she laughed, whenever she touched him. That he couldn’t imagine his life, or his future without her, and even though he had nothing at all to offer her, that he’d follow her into the depths of hell and back without so much as a second thought. He was hopelessly in love with her, and if she didn’t survive he’d never have the chance to tell her all of that out loud.
He watched, at a loss for words as her eyes rolled back up into her head, eyelids slipping closed as her hand slipped away from her wound. He tried his hardest to ignore the slowing of her breathing, that each breath she took rattled like a toy in her chest. He felt Varric’s presence at his side, Aveline next to him as he patched her up as best he could without another mage’s help.
Aveline seemed to understand his distress, and leaned down to scoop Hawke’s limp form up from the floor, hauling her into her arms, before they strode out the doors together, Anders rushing beside Aveline to keep a careful watch over Hawke as they rushed towards the Hawke Estate, Varric rushing off to collect Merril.
———-
Hawke’s eyes opened blearily, blinking rapidly against the sunlight that flowed in from the open curtains over her balcony. When her eyes finally adjusted, she managed to turn her head slightly, groaning deeply as a thudding pain rushed to the forefront, though she was unable to pinpoint if it was coming from her head, or what lay under the tightly wound bandage
She made to lift the covers, but one hand was wrapped tightly from wrist to elbow and pulled into a sling, and the other was restrained by something soft, warm and wound tightly through her fingers and palm.
Hawke moved her head again, straining as her headache pounded at her from all angles, so bad it felt as if her eyelids were moving with each pulse. But it was all wiped away when she saw what held her other hand captive.
Anders’ hand was wrapped tightly around hers, his head resting against his other arm as loose strands of his blonde hair tickled against his nose with each slow breath her took. She smiled gently, knowing that her survival had been his doing.
She’d come to care for Anders more than she’d like to admit, just seeing him was enough to brighten up her day, her long conversations about different schools of magic and his time as a warden were the highlights of her day, as well as seeing that perfect, broad smile crash onto his features at her snarky replies, humour was something she had perfected growing up, always hiding behind a smile or a quick witted joke.
Her heart warmed at the sight of him sitting beside her, leaned over from one of her armchairs he’d dragged down from the study. To know that he’d taken the time to not only save her life, but stay with her for as long as she’d been unconscious, it sent her heart filling with affection almost to bursting.
He groaned a little in his sleep, tightening his hold around her hand slightly, before he was brought out of the fade with a small snuffle that had her giggling softly. His eyes cracked open, searching the room before he bolted upright, staring at her in shock.
“Hawke!” he cried, a wide smile pushing across his face as his eyes scanned her battered body. He made to stand but she pulled him back by the hand that was still holding hers, he realised this quickly, blushing noticeably but stayed put as she’d indicated she wanted.
He looked haggard, his hands still shaking with lyrium aftershocks, deep black circles beneath his eyes and his lips chewed almost beyond recognition. “You look how I feel.” She joked, before pausing, biting down on her lip slightly. “Actually, I probably look how I feel too.”
Anders managed a small smile on her behalf, trying to placate her as her hand fluttered over her bandaged midsection. She sighed and leant back down on the pillow, turning her head to face him as he stood and began checking her wounds, redressing bandages and continuing to heal the internal damage done by the strike to her middle.
“You had m- us worried.” Anders whispered, his voice trembling. She glanced up at his eyes in shock, her mouth curving into a small smile, before she reached up to pat his arm affectionately.
“Anders, you know it’ll take a lot more than a great sword to the stomach, wielded by a 7 foot Qunari to take me down.” She joked, wincing as her giggle jostled her wound. Anders rolled his eyes but managed a small chuckle for her, pulling the blankets up further around her middle.
"Yes well try not to run into any more of those will you? Nearly losing you once is enough emotional turmoil for a lifetime." he shot back, earning him a well mannered glare before she cracked a grin.
"Is that an order Anders?" she asked coyly, looking up at him demurely from underneath her eyelashes. He sputtered for a second before composing himself, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. He pulled back only enough for his next words to allow his lips to brush against her forehead.
"It is."