Contrition (DA II drabble)
Contrition
Meredith's view of the end-game. (Spoilers, for obvious reasons)
Rating: G
Notes: Just an un-edited drabble I wrote up to de-stress from mid-terms at school. I've always wanted to try writing a version of the end-game where Hawke was like the villain. This is not completely that idea here but a variation of it.
There’s a small platoon of templars on boats to the Gallows--one of many. Tension lies thick in the air as their hearts beat loudly in their chests. They know what is coming, and prayers fall away from their lips as they cover their anxiety. Despite what anyone else may believe, nobody is more frightened than Knight Commander Meredith.
The lady’s gloved fingers tremble as she clutches the sword at her hip, wiping sweat off her brow with a free hand. The mages have gone completely berserk, turning into abominations left and right. The citizens of Kirkwall refuse to evacuate the walls of the city as instructed, and instead die worthless deaths as they try to make a feeble stand against the enemy. The city guard has instead chosen to side with the mages, abandoning their civic duty. The only allies Meredith has left in this maker-forsaken place is her army of templars, and even some of them, Ser Cullen included, are beginning to whisper amongst their ranks.
Nobody should know what mages are really like. That was Meredith’s job, to make sure that nobody ever knew what the mage’s circle was capable of. On that front, she has completely failed her job. She’s seen first-hand what could happen if she doesn’t put a stop to this madness soon.
Memories, previously ignored, resurface in her mind.
Amelia, the village, her family, once a comforting place...All of it is tainted. Her parents are consumed in a gory mess before her eyes, and Amelia, her beloved sister, is no longer herself. Meredith hides in the closet, praying that Amelia--no, the beast, the monster--doesn’t discover her. The templars showing up after seventy others were slaughtered, looking down at her with cold eyes as they escort her to the local chantry.
Meredith bites her lip as she sees the Gallows, the final battleground, grow closer in the distance. The statues all stare down at the templars’ boat as it begins to breach their territory. Meredith can see faces peering ahead at them--familiar faces, mostly mages. She can also pick out the captain of the guard amongst them, that despicable apostate, Anders, and mostly importantly, the Champion of Kirkwall himself.
The knight-commander can only shake her head. How in the world could she have expected the Champion to side with her this time? He is a mage just like the rest of them. Perhaps he is stronger than some, but her parents said the same thing about Amelia as well.
It’s heartbreaking, more heartbreaking than Meredith can admit, to be forced to turn against these fools. Alas, everyone picks their sides in the end, she concedes. It’s just a matter of if they are on her side or his. Unfortunately for them, they aren’t on her side this time--their last time.
Knight-Commander Meredith braces herself, ignores Amelia’s face forming on all of theirs, as she steps off the boat.
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” she whispers under her breath.
There’s just some choices that are taken out of her hands, and Meredith prays to the Maker that this is the last one she has to give up.
Meredith's view of the end-game. (Spoilers, for obvious reasons)
Rating: G
Notes: Just an un-edited drabble I wrote up to de-stress from mid-terms at school. I've always wanted to try writing a version of the end-game where Hawke was like the villain. This is not completely that idea here but a variation of it.
There’s a small platoon of templars on boats to the Gallows--one of many. Tension lies thick in the air as their hearts beat loudly in their chests. They know what is coming, and prayers fall away from their lips as they cover their anxiety. Despite what anyone else may believe, nobody is more frightened than Knight Commander Meredith.
The lady’s gloved fingers tremble as she clutches the sword at her hip, wiping sweat off her brow with a free hand. The mages have gone completely berserk, turning into abominations left and right. The citizens of Kirkwall refuse to evacuate the walls of the city as instructed, and instead die worthless deaths as they try to make a feeble stand against the enemy. The city guard has instead chosen to side with the mages, abandoning their civic duty. The only allies Meredith has left in this maker-forsaken place is her army of templars, and even some of them, Ser Cullen included, are beginning to whisper amongst their ranks.
Nobody should know what mages are really like. That was Meredith’s job, to make sure that nobody ever knew what the mage’s circle was capable of. On that front, she has completely failed her job. She’s seen first-hand what could happen if she doesn’t put a stop to this madness soon.
Memories, previously ignored, resurface in her mind.
Amelia, the village, her family, once a comforting place...All of it is tainted. Her parents are consumed in a gory mess before her eyes, and Amelia, her beloved sister, is no longer herself. Meredith hides in the closet, praying that Amelia--no, the beast, the monster--doesn’t discover her. The templars showing up after seventy others were slaughtered, looking down at her with cold eyes as they escort her to the local chantry.
Meredith bites her lip as she sees the Gallows, the final battleground, grow closer in the distance. The statues all stare down at the templars’ boat as it begins to breach their territory. Meredith can see faces peering ahead at them--familiar faces, mostly mages. She can also pick out the captain of the guard amongst them, that despicable apostate, Anders, and mostly importantly, the Champion of Kirkwall himself.
The knight-commander can only shake her head. How in the world could she have expected the Champion to side with her this time? He is a mage just like the rest of them. Perhaps he is stronger than some, but her parents said the same thing about Amelia as well.
It’s heartbreaking, more heartbreaking than Meredith can admit, to be forced to turn against these fools. Alas, everyone picks their sides in the end, she concedes. It’s just a matter of if they are on her side or his. Unfortunately for them, they aren’t on her side this time--their last time.
Knight-Commander Meredith braces herself, ignores Amelia’s face forming on all of theirs, as she steps off the boat.
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” she whispers under her breath.
There’s just some choices that are taken out of her hands, and Meredith prays to the Maker that this is the last one she has to give up.