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inquisimer · 3 months

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the wounds never close

for @febuwhump day 17, "hostage situations" - when Anders is captured by the Templars, Hawke offers another in his place.

read it on ao3 here

Female Surana & Anders, Female Hawke/Anders | Rated T | 1599 words | CW: physical abuse, blood & injury, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships, Tranquility

Anders wasn’t sure how long he’d been their captive. By some miracle he still had his mind, and as they dragged him up from the darkest depths of the Gallows he cataloged every ache, every abuse, every pain. They would fuel his fight for justice once Hawke negotiated his release.

“I’ll remember, I’ll remember,” he muttered, over and over again. He hoped the promise reached the ears of his fellow captives, somehow.

Kirkwall’s blazing sunlight burned harsh against his skin. He squinted on reflex, blinking rapidly until he properly saw the scene laid out before them.

On one side, the Knight Commander, flanked by her second and a squadron of Templars. A few paces across, Hawke, flanked by Sebastian and a particularly murderous looking Fenris. At her feet lay Neria, half-conscious with hands and wrists bound with rough rope. Her head lolled to the side as Hawke pressed a boot to her prone figure. Anders saw a trail of fresh blood trickling from her temple, and the bright red of a new bruise at the base of her neck.

No, Maker, no—not her—

He had been walking placidly, letting his captors guide his weak body along, but now he dug his heels into the cobblestone grooves. He ground his teeth and strained against the surprise that had the Templars’ metal grip clenching around his arm. A horrid screech echoed off the high walls of this prison as they resorted to simply dragging him forward. The terrible scraping drew the attention of the entire stand off and Anders hated the relief he saw in Hawke’s eyes when they landed on him.

What was she doing? Why was Neria here? Like that?

You know why, his thoughts whispered. Energy rippled, just below his skin, ready and waiting to be tapped. They would never see it coming. They didn’t know his full potential—

No. Anders shook his head sharply at himself. That was not the way, not like Ella, not when there were so many innocent apprentices and mages in the crossfire. Hawke must have a better plan; he had to trust her.

“Here is your mage, Serah Hawke.” His captors shoved him forward and the Knight Commander’s disdainful gaze followed his stumbling. “Intact, as promised.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” With a rogue’s touch, his shackles fell away. Mari ran her hands up the length of his arms, held her fingers against the jumping pulse in his neck, and finally buried them in his hair, thumbs ghosting over his sunken cheeks.

“You’re alive,” she breathed.

“I’ll be fine. Maybe. I think. How are we getting out of here, Mari?” He glanced at Neria, her lips half-parted around a moan as she shifted against her bindings. “What is going on with this?”

“Do you trust me?”

Anders hesitated, even though he knew he shouldn’t; Mari had pulled his ass out of the fire more times than he could count. But nothing short of outright grabbing his hand and running would have soothed his nerves in this moment. And running just wasn’t Mari’s style. Not when there was an angle to be played.

“Of course.” He managed a thin grimace that might have been a smile if it hadn’t hurt so much. With a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth, Mari stepped back. Her hands slid down to Anders’ wrists and used them as leverage to throw him behind her.

“Fenris?” Anders tasted more than felt the grapple Fenris clasped him in as the lyrium brands flared to life and his grip turned to iron. He dragged Anders back a few paces as Mari kicked Neria’s body forward. She flopped across the stone and landed, arms splayed, at the Knight Commander’s feet.

“Another in exchange,” Mari said. “As agreed. I believe she’ll be of particular interest to your Knight Captain.”

Anders had just the briefest moment to scream; when he opened his mouth, a gloved hand took the place of his anguish and what should have been a soul-rending wail muffled harmlessly against the leather.

What was she doing?

Cracks of blue rippled from his fingertips up to the corners of his eyes. Sebastian angled himself between Anders and the Templars, effectively blocking their view, though his own gaze stayed sharply on Hawke. Any hope Anders had of a better plan evaporated; she had planned this. She brought the two of them, on purpose, for this.

“Neria!” he screamed, but nothing escaped the gag of Fenris’ hand.

“Silence,” the elf hissed in his ear. “You are lucky she even dreamt up such a plan. Do not prove your foolishness by squandering it.”

Lucky? His vision went white. Yes, he was lucky, wasn’t he—hadn’t he always been? Kinloch was such a nice Circle; he was lucky no one there raped or brutalized him. Mages in the Wardens were free; he was lucky to have the choice to be Tainted instead of Tranquil or dead. And now, this.

Lucky? He was cursed.

Only one thing kept Justice in check, a half-baked plan already formed in the back of Anders’ mind. The underwater tunnel from the Gallows to Darktown was still active; if Mari went through with this, he could still get Neria out. He could get her out and they could run, together again.

But if they identified her—if they knew how long she’d been free—

She’d be branded before he had the chance.

“Is that so?” Meredith glanced between Neria and her Knight Captain. “Is this true, Cullen? Why would a mage be of interest to you?”

Anders held his breath. He and Neria had shared many a disdainful conversation about what the pretty-boy recruit she’d flirted with had become. But perhaps there was a shred of dignity left…? He had to know what would become of her if he revealed what he knew.

Foolishly, Anders thought that might still matter. How hard it was not to hope, so desperately, that there would be a way out of this. Even when he knew better.

“She was of the Ferelden Circle, Knight Commander.” The Knight Captain removed his helmet and tucked it under one arm, stepping forward for a better angle. “She is not just an apostate, but an escaped apostate.”

“How long ago?”

“Nearly a decade.”

“An unfortunately long time,” said Meredith, drawing her sword. She drove it down, unceremoniously, through one of Neria’s upturned palms. She barely reacted to what should have been searing, burning pain. Just a whimper passed her lips, drowned out by the chorus of hastily hushed gasps from the mages watching. Only her eyes moved with any awareness, darting between the Knight Commander and Knight Captain, to Hawke, and finally locking on Anders, still straining against Fenris’ hold. Within them, panic. Panic, and a horribly, dreadfully clear awareness. She knew what was happening, he realized. She knew what was happening and they’d robbed her of any way to stop it.

What did you do to her? Anders glanced desperately at Mari’s profile. What have you done for me?

“She could still be possessed,” Meredith was saying. “Perhaps by a demon too clever to respond to brute force. A decade, you say? And from Kinloch. Tsk. Well, that’s more than enough exposure to warrant the order. You there—“ she snapped her fingers at one of the faceless Templars. “Take this mage and follow the Knight Captain. Assist with preparations for the Rite.”

“NO!” The last, fraying cable of Anders’ hold snapped. For once, he did not resist as Justice rose to the surface; whatever happened could not be worse than losing his best friend to Tranquility.

Blue light poured from him like a righteous font. His eyes burned with the electricity of it. He felt the scrambling of Fenris attempting to recover the grapple as one might feel an annoying gnat in their ear. Arcane energy gathered about his mind and blasted out, clearing both the elf and Sebastian from the vicinity.

“You will not take her,” Justice roared. He swept Anders’ staff in a wide arc and the lesser Templars fell back under the blaze of his holy fire. He advanced on the solid wall of the Knight Commander & Captain’s locked shields, burning fiery righteousness.

A blade in his shoulder—he staggered.

Quick and light, Mari followed the path of the dagger she’d thrown. Her hand closed around the hilt and she pulled it out, mindless of how his blood spattered across her angry face.

“Go away, Justice,” she snapped. “You’re not wanted here. Or needed.”

“I am needed wherever Injustice reigns. You would give over this mage to a foul and corrupt system, sentence her to certain Tranquility—“

“To save Anders,” Mari hissed. Justice blocked one of her strikes, but her offhand dagger drove up under his guard, digging deep into the fleshy, vulnerable skin of his gut. “Yes, I would. A thousand times over, if I had to.”

As she pulled her dagger out again, a ripple of energy emanated from the Knight Commander and echoed across the Gallows. Justice fell to his knees as the Purge took hold. For a moment, his eyes were brown.

“It’s for you, Anders,” she whispered, lifting her dagger over his head. “I’m doing this for you.”

“Don’t.” Voice scraped raw, breathless. “Mari, don’t—“

She brought the dagger down, hilt first, driving it hard enough against his temple that he crumpled, unconscious. Sheathing her blade on a shaky exhale, Mari gestured to Fenris and Sebastian.

“You’ll understand,” she whispered, for her own sake at this point. “It was the only way.”

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday17 #my writing #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age 2 #da2 #anders #oc: neria surana lavellan #oc: mari hawke #mari x anders #ws: the ties we choose #whump #angst #hurt no comfort #tranquil!neria au

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