fadewalk | RP: Hawke (Ground Zero)

Aria carried herself around Skyhold with a feeling similar to the first time she entered the sturdy fortress; curiosity, awe and a little bit of fear. But unlike her first time in Skyhold, when that little fear was about the unknown, Aria's fear had a solid identity: the Envy Demon. Her hands gripped thigh to her mage staff, her knuckles white. The sky was clouded and save for the lights coming from the tavern, everything was emerged in darkness.

Thank the Creators elfs could see in the dark.

Careful to not be noticed, she inspected the fortress, making mental notes about their visitors; Varric shared the same reality with her (which was a goddamn thing to celebrate) and apparently Sera too, though she hadn't met the archer yet. A Hero of Ferelden was present too, two Dorians (none of them from her own reality), an Anders (the Anders!), another Herald of Andraste (that was really confusing, to state the most obvious), two Cullens (guess someone in the elven pantheon is felling quite amused with this joke) and a pretty weird bunch with a pretty weird metal ship and pretty weird manners and clothing (too weird to think about them now, better skip it). Dagna had contacted Aria through her journal (and now the Eluvian is fixed! I didn't even now it was broken, to begin with!) and it was always good to have the Arcanist around.

She was in the lower courtyard, near the stabled, when a sound caught up her attention: something falling, something like a body falling. Aria rushed, running to find the location, mouth agape with what her eyes saw: Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, last seem in the Fade running to certain death. The Inquisitor scrambled her potions after a healing one, dropping her staff imediately and turning Hawke to lay on her back. Careful, she supported her head in one hand and with the other she gave her the potion; the woman was still breathing, good start, now to the injuries. Aria planted her hands over her shoulders, barely touching, and concentrated to cast a healing spell.

C'mon... c'mon, c'mon, c'mon... don't die under my watch again Hawke, not now...

Current Mood: anxious

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Hawke was a mess. There wasn't any way to mince that. Though it looked like several somethings had tried to mince her. Emaciated and dehydrated, her lips were cracked and eyes sunken. She had a scabbed over cut in her scalp that look like it had been damn lucky not to take her right ear off. A dislocated arm, feverish, and two toes broken, in addition to the fact if she wasn't bruised on any particular patch of skin it was because she was cut, scraped, gouged or burned.

Hawke had been fighting alone for a long time.

The minor wounds closed easily under Aria's ministrations, the potion steadying her breathing and bringing the fever down. Her shoulder was still a mess, and her pulse stayed uneven, but her eyes fluttered and she groaned as she let them fall closed again.

"Ow."

"That's it missy, that's improvement. You're doing great, just hang on a bit more."

Relief washed over Aria and she chuckled, thanking all the gods mentally; she focused her healing spell now on fixing her shoulder, thinking that maybe the pain could've been causing her pulse to waver. Aria thought that once Hawke was estable she would need a very good rest, a light meal and all the water she could handle. She would also need an explanation and, of course, Varric.

That aside, Aria asked herself if Hawke had literally just fallen from another part of the Fade (proving that, despite the weird energy, that was still the Fade) or if she had been transported from her reality like everyone else. Either way, such suppositions could wait for now.

The unsettling relocation of Hawke's shoulder dragged an exhausted whine from her, and she rolled her head away to wretch and gag. Nothing, not even bile or foam, came up. Too long with a body in place not meant for bodies.

Shivering, she tried to curl into a ball, muttering in a barely audible voice, "Falling, flying, what's the difference, ugh--" She gagged and coughed. "Fade water, Fade face, Fade bargains, Fade witches, Fade dying. I'd really like something other than pain to be real for once."

She hugged her previously injured arm across her chest, fist tucked under her chin, and closed her eyes. "I'm not talking to you anymore."

It seemed fairly clear she wasn't talking to Aria at all.

Ooookaaaaay, she desperately needs Varric.

Aria crawled and layed near Marian, cupping her face with both hands to keep her still, looking at her. "Hawke, hey, look at me please. Aria Lavellan, remember?" her voice was steady and soft, soothing even. She searched Hawke's face for clues.

"You're safe now. We're back to Skyhold."

Hawke visibly flinched when Aria took her face in her hands, but if she wanted to struggle or lash out she was far too weak.

"How convenient, Skyhold, wonderful, and I suppose you'll say all my bosom companions are here too, companions of my bosom, I used to have lots, the ones who leer, the ones who pretend they don't." She twitched and opened one eye to look at Aria. "It doesn't smell safe. The Fade isn't safe. You know better."

Her tongue rasped across her lips. "Is there water? It can't be bitter with salt because it was a lake of her mother's tears. She cried a lot in that girl's dreams." Her pulse was hammering in her throat but her voice was slowly weakening.

"Shit! Hawke, no, stay with me. Let's fetch you some water, yes?!"

Aria was quick on her feet and at pulling the woman too, Hawke's arm locked behind her neck, Aria's hand around her waist to keep her steady. The Inquisitor half walked half stumbled to the stables, cursing her small frame while carrying the human woman. Sitting Hawke on the floor, back against the wooder door frame, she fetched water from the well as soon as she could, running back to the Champion.

Think, Aria, think! What would Keeper Deshanna do!?

All she could think was something very stupid.
Aria leaned Hawke with her back against her chest, heart aligned with heart, casting the most powerful healing spell she knew, one hand pressed over Hawke's, the other over her own pulse; that way, she hoped, Hawke's heartbeat would follow her own. On the other hand, if she didn't focused enough, Hawke's unsteady heartbeat would unbalance her own and... well. Better not to think about it.

The moment the spell linked their hearts, Aria gritted her teeth to stand the crushing pain on her chest. She had to overcome the pain, concentrate, focus solely on the spell. Think about nice things.

Reading Varric amazingly silly books, playing chess with the commander, pranking everyone with Sera, not listening to the Well voices...

She turned her thoughts in some mental mantra, repeating it until her pain was gone and her heart started slowing down, steady pace, along with Hawke's.

Hawke was far too light for a woman her strength and size. She didn't fight the walk to the stables, but she wasn't much help either. And she grabbed for the water as soon as Aria got anywhere near with it, sniffing it and then drinking it in huge choking gulps. Her blood was starting to feel like sand in her veins and now she had a pond in her belly and maybe she'd just throw it all up again?

Her eyes clenched close as Aria leaned her back. The spell that crept along her skin made her gasp and flinch and gag again, but she didn't sick up, which was good, because she needed that moisture if her heart was going to work correctly.

Not that Marian Hawke's heart had ever worked properly.

Now though, she let the tidal tug of the other woman's pulse even her own out and she slowly went limp, chin dropping and something closer to sleep tugging her under.

(OOC: I think Hawke is going to be out for a while, but it'd be fine with me if you want to move her or contact Varric for a conversation about it. This is really fun. And I'm kind of scared of Aria's heart-linking thing when she's got the Mythal's Well Voices and Hawke was recently put under some kind of geas by Flemeth. o.O So much could go wrong there!)

(ooc: I know it, right?! 8D Actually, the voices are silent now, probably unabled to reach Aria in this weird looking Fade. But who knows what the future holds? xD As for Varric, I guess it would be nice for him to show up now, so I'll call him to this rp, if it's okay ^^)

Aria let out a sigh, both tired and relieved.
She helped Hawke to lay on the floor and grabbed her journal to write to Varric.

(OOC: Yeah, great. I don't think Varric's player is still up so it might be a bit, but I'm excited to see him crap his pants. ;) )

(ooc: lmao, yea, me too xDDD)

One thing Varric had learned pretty quickly: when the Inquisitor said hurry up, the world is falling down around our ears, you grabbed what you could and you hurried. It was the biggest change in his character since Kirkwall. Oh, sure, he still asked questions later, but in the moment?

He ran, Bianca and some caltrops at the ready.

"What've we got?" he called as he swept into the room, Bianca lifted and half-cocked. He was ready for battle, eyes scanning quickly over her, the woman next to her--

The woman--

Varric dropped Bianca in shock. Seeing (and yes, running from like a coward) the other Hawke had been like ice water dumped over his head because she was so like his own Hawke, yet different. He should know: he'd written a book about the blighted woman, and she was--

He stepped over Bianca and moved to crouch by Hawke, one hand gently testing the strength of her pulse, the other cupping the back of her head with overwhelming gentleness and tilting her head so he could get a better look at her. "Aw, sweetheart," Varric muttered beneath his breath. "What kind of bullshit did you land yourself in now?"

(ooc: Aria, Hawke and Varric for the rp order guys? ^^)

"Sorry Varric, didn't know who else call. She was nearly dead when I found her, delirious too. Even if she's not our Hawke, I figured she'd know you for sure, so..."

Aria scratched the base of her hair.

"Creators, I wish the Well had something to say... anyway, we need to take her somewhere to rest. And when she wake up... well... then the real work starts."

There were little clues that someone who knew Hawke well would see, little markers of shared history. Too many of them were obscured by how filthy she was, her own blood, demon gunk, dirt. New scars, tender and pink, overshadowing the old ones, but a couple weree easy to find for someone who knew how to look.

Like the notch in her ear lobe where things had gone stupid in Lowtown dealing with Sharps and some flunky's gauntlets had ripped her earring out with a wild missed haymaker. Her gasp had been comically offended, like someone had taken a dump on her rug, despite the blood that had dribbled down her neck.

Her pulse was steadier under Varric's fingers, Aria's healing dragging her bodily away from death's door. Her breathing, somewhat shallow but even and slow hitched for a moment and her eyebrows drew together.

"It's her," Varric said, eyes never leaving her face. He didn't even have to look for old scars under the new--he just knew. He figured he'd always know.

"Come on, Hawke," he added in a gruff, teasing murmur that hid a wealth of emotion he...really wasn't ready to deal with now, thanks. "I thought Fenris was the dramatic one. Or maybe you just feel like being a lazy lay-about. Am I going to have to strap you to my back and carry you around the bloody place from now on?"

His fingers brushed over her scalp; his thumb soothed over her temple. "Wake up, sweetheart. You're keeping your fans waiting." He glanced over his shoulder at Aria. "If Aveline were here, she could get her up. She always did have the golden touch."

"The Captain of the Guard of Kirkwall?" Aria raised an eyebrow "Yeah, I can imagine the kind of golden touch she has to wake people up. Thank the Creators I have Josie." she chuckled

Aria wasn't used to see Varric acting so fond of someone, but she felt good for the dwarf; the dire and confusing situation had just brought him something good and a incredible story to tell afterwards.

"Good thing we have Anders around. I might not be able to heal shit in the next hours."

Varric's continued touch and low rumble seemed to be working because Hawke's eyelashes fluttered but didn't open. She turned her face toward his hand with a low, shaky sigh.

It was Aria's voice that caused her to whisper, voice plaintive, "Anders is supposed to be hiding." She didn't open her eyes though, rubbing her cheek against Varric's hand like a kitten.

A mangey, battered, half-drowned kitten that had probably been tied in a sack with a set of stolen cutlery and tossed in Kirkwall's harbor... but in a cute way.

(OOC: Not to interrupt, but, ahem, if you all do want me to come in and do some healer-y things, just give me a shout.)

"I don't know if you've notice this, Hawke," Varric said dryly, "but our friends are pretty shit at doing what they're told. Including you. Especially you. I'm thinking of adding an Epilogue to my book: In Which The Champion Returns from the Dead and Gets Bitched Out By Her Humble Biographer."

He considered her, then dropped his voice. "Move her to somewhere more comfortable or try to coax her into more potions first?" he asked Aria.

"Let's move her somewhere else. The problem now aren't her injuries, but the time she spent in the Fade, plus the dehydration and the starvation. Potions won't help her with that."

She approached Hawke and helped her on her feet, passing her arm around her neck as she had done before. "C'mon Champion, there is a nice, warm bed waiting for you. You won't let it waiting, yes?" and then she turned to Varric "Can you grab that water bucket, please?"

Something Varric said caused Hawke to freeze, and she cracked an eye open at him. She paled beneath all that dirt, teeth nipping hard against her cracked lower lip. Aria's intervention, hauling her to her feet, brought a pained groan and she had to lean heavily on the shorter woman.

"I feel like I was torn apart by a pack of wyverns, eaten by a high dragon and then pooped out again." She struggled to keep Varric in view, twisting slightly, eyes huge, the strange pale blue of them almost glowing.

Varric grabbed the water, as instructed. "I have to say, for a steaming pile of dragon shit, you don't look half bad," he said, keeping pace with them. "Don't you think so, Inquisitor?"

"Not that I know much piles of steaming dragon shit, but that would make Hawke... smoking hot, perhaps?"

Aria chuckled at her own bad joke while heading to the stairs to the upper courtyard.

Hawke groaned, maybe pained, maybe at the pun... probably both. She had to take the steps slow and about halfway up she missed a riser and went halfway to her knees. "Shit. Could you just dump me under a bush maybe? I don't want to walk up any more."

(ooc: Should we wait for Varric to come back or you'd like to keep going without him?)

"Tried that before when you had too many at the Hanged Man. It wasn't pretty then, either."

But Varric passed the water--and Bianca, of all things--to Aria. "Here," he said. "I've got her." He was short, sure, but he was also strong. Strong enough to lift Hawke and carry her up the rest of the steps.

"I promisse to take care of Bianca with my own life."

Aria said in a false solemn voice, taking the crossbow with care. She already knew Hawke was precious to Varric, but that gesture added a whole new meaning to it.

"Where to? The infirmary or a guest room?"

Hawke watched Aria take Bianca as if she didn't really understand what that meant until Varric lifted her. She let out a tiny, disgruntled noise. "When did I get downgraded to damsel of the piece?" she muttered even as she let her head rest on Varric's shoulder for a moment.

"The damsel said as she fought another swoon," Varric muttered, sotto. "Let's go to a guest room. Infirmaries are for sick people and Blondie." He tipped his head to indicate the way, hefted Hawke (carefully) closer, and headed toward his own room.

Well, he was going to have to look after her, wasn't he?

"You know, Inquisitor, you would have fit right in back at Kirkwall."

"Well, I don't know if you remember, but Lavellan clan is always around the Free Marches. Can't say I miss the bloodbath it must have been the fight against Knight-Commander Meredith and her Templars after the infamous explosion of the Chantry, but I would like to have met you guys when everything was simpler."

Aria walked towards the direction indicated by Varric, her heart meaning every word she said.

"Being the Second to the Keeper can be quite the lonely life, after all."

Hawke really was fighting another swoon. Her head bobbed and then jerked up, eyes flashing wide in alarm. She grunted when she focused on the side of Varric's head and relaxed slowly again as Aria spoke.

"Remind me: when was it simpler?" She rubbed her cheek against the lapel of Varric's jacket. "I don't remember that part of the story."

"You hit your head often enough," he mused, "you forget even some of my stories. I'll read that book to you again, jog your memories."

There had been a simpler time, though it'd been bookended by times twisty enough to defy logic. Being with the Inquisitor hadn't changed that much.

"I only read the Tale of the Champion once, but I bet exploring the Deep Roads seems easy than being strayed in the Fade, in retrospect." Aria pondered ahead of them, opening the door wide so Varric could fit with Hawke without problems.

"To think that, for me, surviving the explosion in the Temple of the Sacred Ashes was the easiest part... well, this must tell us something."

"Deep Roads had my three closest friends. The Fade I only had myself to talk to." Hawke grimaced underneath all the dirt and grime. "It turns out I am not very funny or interesting."

She snorted softly, and shook her head. She was arguing with no one again. "It is too true. After a week of nothing but knock-knock jokes, you just have to admit certain things about yourself."

"Thank you," he said to Aria, moving into the room and gently hoisting Hawke onto the bed. "And you--good thing you have interesting companions to make you seem more sparkling than you are."

Aria frowned at Hawke's words, but all she did was to put Bianca away, over the table, and approach the fireplace, lighting it. The warm flames soon started to send the cold away from the room. She grabbed the bucket and a bow she could find, spilling water to it and warming it with a wiggle of her fingers, all her motion natural as she had already done such several times.

Finally, Aria grabbed a piece of cloth and sat by Hawke's side, gently cleaning her face from all the gore, mud and demon goo.

"Fairly sure I've never once sparkled." Hawke let out a soft noise of complaint when Varric set her on the bed, and her fingers curled around the cuff of his coat sleeve for a moment, knuckles gripping white, before sliding off. "Bled a lot. Been on fire?"

She grimaced at Aria's face-washing, falling silent as the filth was cleaned off. When the Inquisitor moved to rinse out the cloth she added, "Fire sort of sparkles, I guess." She rubbed at her cheek with the back of a filthy hand. "Tired."

"Then go to sleep," he said with fond exasperation, looking up to meet Aria's eyes. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Yes Hawke. You need to rest."

Aria finished cleaning her arms and hands and decided that was enough. The Champion was definitely exhausted and the Inquisitor didn't want to be the one standing between her and her first good night of sleep in months.

She glanced at Varric, then to the door and back to him, as she used to do to avoid saying out loud she wanted to speak to him later.

The way her face squinched when she was admonished to sleep made her look years younger, but her eyes still held all the shadows and haunted shapes of the last ten years. Hawke's hands balled into fists on the bed beside her for a moment, looking between Aria and Varric and back. "Flurries of glancing. Very significant," she muttered and curled up onto her side, blue eyes blinking slow. "Please be real," she breathed into her arm, and she was out almost before the last word was out of her mouth.

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