Jazz Age: Chapter Fifty-Six
Title Jazz Age
Rating M
Warnings Violence.
Spoilers For pretty much everything, eventually.
Pairings Hawke/Jethann, Hawke/Isabela, Hawke/Fenris
Summary Hawke and his family fled the war in Ferelden on a liner, dogged by Darkspawn U-Boats. Two years later the war is over and Hawke is a private detective in Kirkwall, a city awash with jazz, bootleg liquor and a lot of trouble.
Master List Here.
The next morning Fenris arrived carrying a large cardboard box. Horse was very interested, clumping over as soon as Fenris had got in the door and looking up at him expectedly.
“What have you got in there?” I asked.
“More to the point what have you got?” Fenris asked. “I found it at the bottom of your steps.”
“Maker’s Breath it’s not a baby, is it?” I got to my feet and opened the top.
There was a cat inside. A black and white cat. It blinked up at us and then hopped out of the box, much to Horse’s delight. I grabbed it before the mabari could introduce himself properly.
“Why would someone give me a cat?” I asked.
“Maybe Anders didn’t hear you clearly the first time,” Fenris suggested.
I frowned.
“You know, I think this is one of Anders’ cats.” I thought back to the times I’d visited him. “This is Purrsival,” I said. “He’s given all the others away. Why would he give away Purrsival?”
“Search me,” Fenris said, stealing my paper now my hands were full of cat. “Anything new?”
“No. Look, we have to give it back. I can’t keep a cat.” I raised my eyebrows at Fenris. He shook his head sharply.
We put Purrsival back in his box and went down to Darktown. The clinic was closed.
“Hmm.” I cupped my eyes and peered through the window. “Pretty dark in there.”
“The front door’s open,” Fenris said.
“That’s odd. He normally locks up tight to prevent people from stealing his medical supplies.” We put Purrsival down, and he immediately made himself at home, wandering off happily. We followed a bit more cautiously.
Anders wasn’t in.
In fact, the place was empty. The cupboards were almost bare of both food and medical supplies.
“Maybe he’s gone for good?” Fenris suggested, without a trace of disappointment, “Just got sick of Kirkwall and left.”
“Then why didn’t he at least say goodbye? Or ask us to come with him?” I opened the back door and recoiled. “Yeesh, it stinks out here. What in the world was he doing?”
There were a few empty containers scattered about and various substances spilled on the floor.
“Smells like rotten eggs,” I said, picking my way through the mess. “And something worse.”
Fenris followed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I think I know what this is,” he said. “I know what he was up to.”
~~~
“Varric!”
“Morning fellas-“
“I need to use your telephone. Fenris, fill him in while I call Aveline.”
“I’m sorry, can I take a message?” Ever since the Qunari left, it was getting more and more difficult to get hold of Aveline when she was at work. Eventually I had no choice but to give her secretary Varric’s extension and hope for the best.
“Where is he?” Varric asked.
“I don’t know. Any ideas, Fenris?”
“The Gallows maybe?”
I shook my head, “Too many mages in there.”
Fenris and I looked at each other.
“City Hall,” we said in unison.
“Varric, stay here in case Aveline calls back.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
I looked at him, “I have no idea, but we can’t afford to waste any time.” I still had trouble believing Anders was really doing this. What in the world could have gotten into him? I ran through our most recent conversations in my head, wondering if I could have said or done something to prevent what appeared to be happening.
“I just hope he comes to his senses before he lights the fuse,” I said, as Fenris and I jogged to the nearest tram stop.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Fenris said.
The tram journey was agonisingly slow. I cursed under my breath every time it stopped to let people on or off as we slowly climbed our way up to Hightown. I kept my eyes on the horizon, watching for smoke.
Both the horizon and City Hall were still intact when we jumped down off the tram at the central stop. I wondered if we were wrong. Maybe Anders was doing something else.
“There!” Fenris pointed.
Anders was standing on a wooden box, waving some more of his pamphlets, and alternately pleading with and berating the group of amused onlookers that was slowly gathering. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, he’s not hurting anyone with those,” I said.
Still, it would be best to calm him down and find out what he was really up to, and Fenris and I strode across the broad concreted square towards Anders’ soapbox. When he saw us Anders went as white as a sheet.
“No,” he shook his head, “not you. You have to get out of here. Just go. Don’t ask questions, you’ll find out later. Please.”
“He’s already lit it,” Fenris said, “Trip!”
I didn’t stop; I shouldered my way through the crowd, my teeth bared.
“Dammit, Anders,” I growled.
I stepped up onto the box and drove my fist into his midsection, completely unassisted by magic. I heard the air leave his lungs with a ‘whoosh’ and he crumpled. I ignored him.
“Get him somewhere safe,” I said over my shoulder to Fenris. And then I started to run.
“Like hell I will!” Fenris took off after me without hesitation.
“Stay back,” I shouted. “It’s dangerous.”
He lengthened his stride and caught up with me as we pelted across the town square.
“If you’re going to die, you won’t do it alone,” he said.
I saved my breath and didn’t argue.
We burst in the front door, ignoring the doorman trying to slow us down.
“Get out!” I hollered, “There’s a bomb!”
Heads lifted from desks and the policeman standing near the head of the queue started walking over.
Fenris drew his gun and I jumped as he fired it at the ceiling. “Move!” he shouted. We split up, mostly to avoid the policeman. Now people were getting to their feet as we raised all the hell we could. It was going to take minutes for the news to travel up the floors.
“You’re not supposed to go-“ I vaulted over the tall wooden counter and fought against the stream of clerks and typists hauling their coats and bags towards the front door. Fenris was still waving his gun at people but hadn’t fired again.
I grabbed someone by the collar. “Back rooms; storage. Where are they?” He pointed and I let him go, giving him a shove in the direction of the door.
“Trip!” Fenris yelled, “We have to get out. They’ve got the message.”
“Then go!” I said, putting my foot to a door. I thought I could smell something burning.
He must have used a delivery entrance. Maker knew how he’d managed it; maybe he’d had help from his Underground friends. The fuse had been quietly hissing away, for the best part of half an hour by my guess, and the floor of the storage room was criss-crossed with lines of ash. I kicked the door in just in time to watch the last of it burn away.
I didn’t think, I acted. I flung my hands out and wrapped the dark, pungent barrels in a mantle of compressing force. And then the gunpowder ignited. It tore through my reserves instantly and my knees buckled. I hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, my mind screaming as I felt the overwhelming force of the explosion meet my own. I don’t know how I held on. I saw, slowly, one of the barrels begin to buckle and break, nothing behind the splintering wood but a searing light as bright as the sun. I watched helplessly as splinters peeled themselves away from the bending and breaking slats. There was a strange roaring sound in my ears, and I had the odd sensation that my fingernails were going to just drop off the ends of my fingers.
It didn’t hurt.
My consciousness was stretched, thinner and thinner as my reserves were torn out of me as I tried to maintain the downwards force. I couldn’t do this. I could feel my grasp slipping, I could see the barrels slowly swelling, tumbling from their little pile, the heat singing my hair and toasting my fingers.
I wasn’t strong enough. There wasn’t enough of me.
But there could be so much more.
I wouldn’t. Even this, it wasn’t worth it. An abomination is a fate worse than death.
Would it be an abomination? I have my mind. I have control.
No. I wouldn’t. I can’t see. Is it black, or did I go blind? Maybe my eyes are just shut against the glare. I can’t remember how to open them.
Fenris is still here.
Oh Maker, I have to save him. I’m so sorry, Father.
I stretched out.
I snatched myself back.
It was like someone was pouring water down my throat - no, it wasn’t water. It was lyrium. Cool and clear and cold. Like I was drinking an endless potion. I let it pour through me, shaping it from raw, sparkling power into my ball of force, pushing down against the igniting gunpowder, holding it in place. It felt endless. It was exhausting, but it didn’t stop. I didn’t stop.
Eventually, I remembered how to open my eyes.
I saw a shimmering silver sky. I thought it was beautiful. It glowed blue. I blinked.
Focused.
It hurt to focus.
I found Fenris.
His hand was under my head and his lips were pressed down on mine. His face was contorted in a rictus of pain, and every sizzling line on his skin was lit up, electrified, as he drew out his lyrium reserves and poured them into me.
How many grains of gunpowder were there in three barrels?
I think I counted to about twelve hundred before I fell asleep.
~~~
I woke up feeling hot and flat, like a coin left on a railway track. Despite this I was pretty comfortable. I was in a bed. It wasn’t mine. It was nice though. I hoped I’d never have to leave. I wondered what time it was. I wondered what day it was. There was something on my head and for a moment I was convinced it was an octopus.
I ordered my hand to investigate and to my surprise, it did. I picked up a damp cloth and looked at it; not an octopus after all. It didn’t seem to have any special significance. Varric’s initials weren’t embroidered on the corner.
Varric. I’d seen him recently about something important. It might still be important. I couldn’t lie around in bed all day. If it was daytime. Find a clock first, and then worry about the calendar, I decided.
I sat up, and my blood swirled around in my head as I remembered what I’d been doing.
This was Fenris’s room.
I deduced this mainly because Fenris himself had dragged a chair over next to the bed and was sitting in it, fast asleep. He had both a bowl and a pitcher of water next to him and a lamp was burning on the bedside table. I dropped the cloth back into the former. He looked oddly peaceful. I’d never seen him asleep before, I realised. With his face relaxed like that he looked a lot younger.
He made my heart ache.
I heaved a sigh. If he was still asleep, it was probably still dark outside.
He must have heard me, for he opened his eyes.
“Mm. Trip? You’re awake?”
“Yeah.”
He blinked a few times and brought his gaze into focus. “I thought you were dying. I thought you’d never wake up. Even Danarius never needed that much power.”
Oh yes, I remembered. He’d kissed me.
“Is that what Danarius did?” I asked, horrified.
Fenris shook his head, “No. I was giving that to you. Danaruis just used to reach out and take it. Peel it off.”
“It looked like it hurt.”
“It does. Every time. Do you want a drink?”
“Please.”
I drank straight from the lip of the pitcher, and I downed about half the water inside before handing it back.
“I nearly gave in,” I confessed. I had to tell someone, now I remembered. “I wasn’t strong enough to do it by myself, but if I didn’t you would be caught in the blast. I gave in, Fenris, just for a moment but-“
“Nobody’s perfect,” Fenris said.
I smiled at him, “Ain’t that the truth.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“Fenris, why did you follow me into City Hall? You must have known it was the worst idea I’ve had all year.”
Fenris heaved a sigh and looked at his hands for a while. “I couldn’t bear the thought of living without you,” he said finally. He glanced up at me quickly and then back down again. “I’ve been such a fool. You’re not much better you must admit, but I, I knew what I had and I threw it away.”
“Why? Why did you keep running away from me?”
“I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to see me for what I am; hopeless. It would be better that way, I thought. If I admitted it, I’d just get hurt. You’d just get hurt when I screwed up. It was only a matter of time.”
“You said your memories came back.”
He shifted in his chair, “It wasn’t quite like that. I couldn’t remember things, just a feeling. A feeling of someone else being there with me. It scared me and I was a coward.” He shrugged. “So I ran. And kept running. It was easier to fight you than to explain it, or so I thought. But then you were running off apparently intent on killing yourself and that was worse.” He looked at me, “There you have it.” He seemed to be waiting for something.
“Say it, Fenris,” I said. “Get it out there, you’ll feel better for it.”
“Will you forgive me? Will you have me back?”
I grinned at him, “Yeah, of course I will.”
I reached out and took his hand, and we glanced at each other in shock. I’d stripped myself of my magic, and he’d drained his lyrium. The lines on his hand might as well have been paint; all I felt was warm, slightly calloused skin.
And overwhelming joy of course.
Rating M
Warnings Violence.
Spoilers For pretty much everything, eventually.
Pairings Hawke/Jethann, Hawke/Isabela, Hawke/Fenris
Summary Hawke and his family fled the war in Ferelden on a liner, dogged by Darkspawn U-Boats. Two years later the war is over and Hawke is a private detective in Kirkwall, a city awash with jazz, bootleg liquor and a lot of trouble.
Master List Here.
The next morning Fenris arrived carrying a large cardboard box. Horse was very interested, clumping over as soon as Fenris had got in the door and looking up at him expectedly.
“What have you got in there?” I asked.
“More to the point what have you got?” Fenris asked. “I found it at the bottom of your steps.”
“Maker’s Breath it’s not a baby, is it?” I got to my feet and opened the top.
There was a cat inside. A black and white cat. It blinked up at us and then hopped out of the box, much to Horse’s delight. I grabbed it before the mabari could introduce himself properly.
“Why would someone give me a cat?” I asked.
“Maybe Anders didn’t hear you clearly the first time,” Fenris suggested.
I frowned.
“You know, I think this is one of Anders’ cats.” I thought back to the times I’d visited him. “This is Purrsival,” I said. “He’s given all the others away. Why would he give away Purrsival?”
“Search me,” Fenris said, stealing my paper now my hands were full of cat. “Anything new?”
“No. Look, we have to give it back. I can’t keep a cat.” I raised my eyebrows at Fenris. He shook his head sharply.
We put Purrsival back in his box and went down to Darktown. The clinic was closed.
“Hmm.” I cupped my eyes and peered through the window. “Pretty dark in there.”
“The front door’s open,” Fenris said.
“That’s odd. He normally locks up tight to prevent people from stealing his medical supplies.” We put Purrsival down, and he immediately made himself at home, wandering off happily. We followed a bit more cautiously.
Anders wasn’t in.
In fact, the place was empty. The cupboards were almost bare of both food and medical supplies.
“Maybe he’s gone for good?” Fenris suggested, without a trace of disappointment, “Just got sick of Kirkwall and left.”
“Then why didn’t he at least say goodbye? Or ask us to come with him?” I opened the back door and recoiled. “Yeesh, it stinks out here. What in the world was he doing?”
There were a few empty containers scattered about and various substances spilled on the floor.
“Smells like rotten eggs,” I said, picking my way through the mess. “And something worse.”
Fenris followed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I think I know what this is,” he said. “I know what he was up to.”
~~~
“Varric!”
“Morning fellas-“
“I need to use your telephone. Fenris, fill him in while I call Aveline.”
“I’m sorry, can I take a message?” Ever since the Qunari left, it was getting more and more difficult to get hold of Aveline when she was at work. Eventually I had no choice but to give her secretary Varric’s extension and hope for the best.
“Where is he?” Varric asked.
“I don’t know. Any ideas, Fenris?”
“The Gallows maybe?”
I shook my head, “Too many mages in there.”
Fenris and I looked at each other.
“City Hall,” we said in unison.
“Varric, stay here in case Aveline calls back.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
I looked at him, “I have no idea, but we can’t afford to waste any time.” I still had trouble believing Anders was really doing this. What in the world could have gotten into him? I ran through our most recent conversations in my head, wondering if I could have said or done something to prevent what appeared to be happening.
“I just hope he comes to his senses before he lights the fuse,” I said, as Fenris and I jogged to the nearest tram stop.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Fenris said.
The tram journey was agonisingly slow. I cursed under my breath every time it stopped to let people on or off as we slowly climbed our way up to Hightown. I kept my eyes on the horizon, watching for smoke.
Both the horizon and City Hall were still intact when we jumped down off the tram at the central stop. I wondered if we were wrong. Maybe Anders was doing something else.
“There!” Fenris pointed.
Anders was standing on a wooden box, waving some more of his pamphlets, and alternately pleading with and berating the group of amused onlookers that was slowly gathering. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, he’s not hurting anyone with those,” I said.
Still, it would be best to calm him down and find out what he was really up to, and Fenris and I strode across the broad concreted square towards Anders’ soapbox. When he saw us Anders went as white as a sheet.
“No,” he shook his head, “not you. You have to get out of here. Just go. Don’t ask questions, you’ll find out later. Please.”
“He’s already lit it,” Fenris said, “Trip!”
I didn’t stop; I shouldered my way through the crowd, my teeth bared.
“Dammit, Anders,” I growled.
I stepped up onto the box and drove my fist into his midsection, completely unassisted by magic. I heard the air leave his lungs with a ‘whoosh’ and he crumpled. I ignored him.
“Get him somewhere safe,” I said over my shoulder to Fenris. And then I started to run.
“Like hell I will!” Fenris took off after me without hesitation.
“Stay back,” I shouted. “It’s dangerous.”
He lengthened his stride and caught up with me as we pelted across the town square.
“If you’re going to die, you won’t do it alone,” he said.
I saved my breath and didn’t argue.
We burst in the front door, ignoring the doorman trying to slow us down.
“Get out!” I hollered, “There’s a bomb!”
Heads lifted from desks and the policeman standing near the head of the queue started walking over.
Fenris drew his gun and I jumped as he fired it at the ceiling. “Move!” he shouted. We split up, mostly to avoid the policeman. Now people were getting to their feet as we raised all the hell we could. It was going to take minutes for the news to travel up the floors.
“You’re not supposed to go-“ I vaulted over the tall wooden counter and fought against the stream of clerks and typists hauling their coats and bags towards the front door. Fenris was still waving his gun at people but hadn’t fired again.
I grabbed someone by the collar. “Back rooms; storage. Where are they?” He pointed and I let him go, giving him a shove in the direction of the door.
“Trip!” Fenris yelled, “We have to get out. They’ve got the message.”
“Then go!” I said, putting my foot to a door. I thought I could smell something burning.
He must have used a delivery entrance. Maker knew how he’d managed it; maybe he’d had help from his Underground friends. The fuse had been quietly hissing away, for the best part of half an hour by my guess, and the floor of the storage room was criss-crossed with lines of ash. I kicked the door in just in time to watch the last of it burn away.
I didn’t think, I acted. I flung my hands out and wrapped the dark, pungent barrels in a mantle of compressing force. And then the gunpowder ignited. It tore through my reserves instantly and my knees buckled. I hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, my mind screaming as I felt the overwhelming force of the explosion meet my own. I don’t know how I held on. I saw, slowly, one of the barrels begin to buckle and break, nothing behind the splintering wood but a searing light as bright as the sun. I watched helplessly as splinters peeled themselves away from the bending and breaking slats. There was a strange roaring sound in my ears, and I had the odd sensation that my fingernails were going to just drop off the ends of my fingers.
It didn’t hurt.
My consciousness was stretched, thinner and thinner as my reserves were torn out of me as I tried to maintain the downwards force. I couldn’t do this. I could feel my grasp slipping, I could see the barrels slowly swelling, tumbling from their little pile, the heat singing my hair and toasting my fingers.
I wasn’t strong enough. There wasn’t enough of me.
But there could be so much more.
I wouldn’t. Even this, it wasn’t worth it. An abomination is a fate worse than death.
Would it be an abomination? I have my mind. I have control.
No. I wouldn’t. I can’t see. Is it black, or did I go blind? Maybe my eyes are just shut against the glare. I can’t remember how to open them.
Fenris is still here.
Oh Maker, I have to save him. I’m so sorry, Father.
I stretched out.
I snatched myself back.
It was like someone was pouring water down my throat - no, it wasn’t water. It was lyrium. Cool and clear and cold. Like I was drinking an endless potion. I let it pour through me, shaping it from raw, sparkling power into my ball of force, pushing down against the igniting gunpowder, holding it in place. It felt endless. It was exhausting, but it didn’t stop. I didn’t stop.
Eventually, I remembered how to open my eyes.
I saw a shimmering silver sky. I thought it was beautiful. It glowed blue. I blinked.
Focused.
It hurt to focus.
I found Fenris.
His hand was under my head and his lips were pressed down on mine. His face was contorted in a rictus of pain, and every sizzling line on his skin was lit up, electrified, as he drew out his lyrium reserves and poured them into me.
How many grains of gunpowder were there in three barrels?
I think I counted to about twelve hundred before I fell asleep.
~~~
I woke up feeling hot and flat, like a coin left on a railway track. Despite this I was pretty comfortable. I was in a bed. It wasn’t mine. It was nice though. I hoped I’d never have to leave. I wondered what time it was. I wondered what day it was. There was something on my head and for a moment I was convinced it was an octopus.
I ordered my hand to investigate and to my surprise, it did. I picked up a damp cloth and looked at it; not an octopus after all. It didn’t seem to have any special significance. Varric’s initials weren’t embroidered on the corner.
Varric. I’d seen him recently about something important. It might still be important. I couldn’t lie around in bed all day. If it was daytime. Find a clock first, and then worry about the calendar, I decided.
I sat up, and my blood swirled around in my head as I remembered what I’d been doing.
This was Fenris’s room.
I deduced this mainly because Fenris himself had dragged a chair over next to the bed and was sitting in it, fast asleep. He had both a bowl and a pitcher of water next to him and a lamp was burning on the bedside table. I dropped the cloth back into the former. He looked oddly peaceful. I’d never seen him asleep before, I realised. With his face relaxed like that he looked a lot younger.
He made my heart ache.
I heaved a sigh. If he was still asleep, it was probably still dark outside.
He must have heard me, for he opened his eyes.
“Mm. Trip? You’re awake?”
“Yeah.”
He blinked a few times and brought his gaze into focus. “I thought you were dying. I thought you’d never wake up. Even Danarius never needed that much power.”
Oh yes, I remembered. He’d kissed me.
“Is that what Danarius did?” I asked, horrified.
Fenris shook his head, “No. I was giving that to you. Danaruis just used to reach out and take it. Peel it off.”
“It looked like it hurt.”
“It does. Every time. Do you want a drink?”
“Please.”
I drank straight from the lip of the pitcher, and I downed about half the water inside before handing it back.
“I nearly gave in,” I confessed. I had to tell someone, now I remembered. “I wasn’t strong enough to do it by myself, but if I didn’t you would be caught in the blast. I gave in, Fenris, just for a moment but-“
“Nobody’s perfect,” Fenris said.
I smiled at him, “Ain’t that the truth.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“Fenris, why did you follow me into City Hall? You must have known it was the worst idea I’ve had all year.”
Fenris heaved a sigh and looked at his hands for a while. “I couldn’t bear the thought of living without you,” he said finally. He glanced up at me quickly and then back down again. “I’ve been such a fool. You’re not much better you must admit, but I, I knew what I had and I threw it away.”
“Why? Why did you keep running away from me?”
“I wanted you to hate me. I wanted you to see me for what I am; hopeless. It would be better that way, I thought. If I admitted it, I’d just get hurt. You’d just get hurt when I screwed up. It was only a matter of time.”
“You said your memories came back.”
He shifted in his chair, “It wasn’t quite like that. I couldn’t remember things, just a feeling. A feeling of someone else being there with me. It scared me and I was a coward.” He shrugged. “So I ran. And kept running. It was easier to fight you than to explain it, or so I thought. But then you were running off apparently intent on killing yourself and that was worse.” He looked at me, “There you have it.” He seemed to be waiting for something.
“Say it, Fenris,” I said. “Get it out there, you’ll feel better for it.”
“Will you forgive me? Will you have me back?”
I grinned at him, “Yeah, of course I will.”
I reached out and took his hand, and we glanced at each other in shock. I’d stripped myself of my magic, and he’d drained his lyrium. The lines on his hand might as well have been paint; all I felt was warm, slightly calloused skin.
And overwhelming joy of course.