Post by Callie on Mar 19, 2011 23:30:29 GMT -5
A/N: When I stopped and actually looked at this, I realized this didn't have to be a one-shot. So there will be another part after this, if I actually get around to it. By the way, yes, this is a Dragon Age 2 fanfiction (I couldn't help myself, shut up xD). Enjoy. ^^
Catching up to her was more difficult than Fenris had thought it might be. Hawke was on an all-out sprint. He supposed it was understandable, considering she thought her mother was in the hands of a man known to abduct and kill women. That was probably a good reason to be on edge. And running. Running very, very fast.
"Hawke, slow down!" Varric complained, behind even Anders, who was in robes. Then again, with those short legs of his, Fenris thought, it was no surprise the dwarf wasn't quite as fast as an apostate in robes.
As she showed no sign of slowing down, Fenris sped up, catching up to her relatively quickly. She had stopped by now; she was bent over a pool scarlet liquid on the concrete flooring of Lowtown. "Where is he taking her?" she muttered, clearly frustrated. "This is the only..." The sound of her voice trailed off into a mutter so Fenris could no longer hear her. He directed moss green eyes away from the blood and around the vicinity. Wordlessly, he raised a hand to point over to steps nearby. Hawke's own eyes - almost the color of lyrium - followed the gesture, and she leapt up instantly, running over to them. "It keeps going!" she cried, dashing down the stairs.
Anders had already caught up, but Varric had just arrived when they were off again. He shot Fenris a spiteful glare, as if to say "you just had to point that out now, didn't you"? Fenris could scarcely surpress the tugging at the corners of his lips - the start of a smirk. But now was not the time, and, instead, he raced down the stairs after Hawke, who was following pools of blood across Lowtown. Hmph. And Varric thought Fenris was morbid.
After enough running to match up with the amount of walking Anders had probably done in a week at the Circle, they stopped. Hawke was standing at the door of the Lowtown Foundry, a delicate hand on the knob of the door. She did not seem able to move until Fenris walked up the stairwell behind her and nudged her in the arm. She glanced over to him and nodded, almost imperceptibly, before turning the knob and throwing the door open. More pools of blood to follow. Fenris knew that, even though Varric and Anders had finally caught up, neither of them had seen the sudden loss of hope on her soft features.
"We have to find her," she said, sounding determined instead of hopeless. Once again, Hawke was keeping up the bravado. Leandra had been kind to all of them; none of the group would wish a single bad thing on her. And that was without knowing what would be the outcome if Leandra was hurt. Hawke was vital in all of this; if she fell apart, who knew what would happen? She could fall apart at any moment. She had lost her brother to an ogre, her sister to the Circle, her father before they had even left Ferelden... her mother was all she had left. At least Fenris couldn't miss his parents or hurt over them if he did not even know who they were. Where they existed. If they existed.
As soon as they ran down the stairwell of the Foundry, a few shades and abominations emerged from the unforgiving, stone ground. They all had their weapons out quickly, but Hawke, even quicker than usual, it seemed. When Fenris went to swing at the nearest abomination, he had to stop his sword short because Hawke had jumped in the way. He doubted she even knew that she had done it, but it still got on his nerves - he could have sliced her in two! Nevertheless, the abomination had been smoothly dispatched in under five seconds, and she had moved on to the next one.
Since there were only two other than the one Hawke was currently tormenting, Fenris left them to Anders and Varric, who, he knew, could take care of themselves. He opted to watch her instead. Normally, she fought quickly and efficiently, but this was almost... frenzied. As if she would break into hysterics at any second. Somehow, though, even half mad, she managed to look graceful. Fenris knew that some women looked beautiful around childen, some while they cooked, others while they sewed... Hawke looked beautiful in battle. It was the elegance with which she moved, the swiftness. It was the way her hair slid forward into her eyes, the concentrated look in those lyrium eyes while she dodged any attacks thrown at her. It was the way she snuck up behind an opponent and slipped her dagger into his back, the opponent none the wiser until he was curled up on the floor. It was for these reasons that Hawke was a woman to be respected.
But he had gotten caught up watching her. The abomination was dead, and all the others, along with the shades, had been looted. Varric, it seemed, was leading the way now, following the pools of blood. Hawke followed behind he and Anders, not seeming the least bit bothered about the ambush that had just been forced upon them. When Fenris had caught up, he stared at the ground as he walked, silent for a period. "Almost as if he was expecting us, isn't it?" he muttered to her.
Hawke, all steely determination, did not answer, her eyes straight ahead as she walked, her head held high. He had not seen her eyes colder than this, even once. Maybe the losses were getting to her. There had been many, after all, and she was resolved that there not be one more. Especially not her own mother.
They fought through more abominations, shades, and demons on their way further into the Foundry, Varric, Anders, and Fenris all finding it difficult to get in a hit at any point. Hawke was furious, Fenris realized, and it was at that point it hit him that out of anything you could put that woman through to piss her off, messing with her family was a line you simply did not cross. If Leandra was dead... Even Fenris didn't want to think of what might happen then. Still, he could not find it in himself to have any pity for the man who had taken her.
When they came to a room that seemed to have a shrine dedicated to... Leandra? it couldn't be... Hawke paused, staring up at the picture that looked so familiar, hanging over the fireplace. "It looks... just like Mother when she was younger," she whispered, wide-eyed. Fenris gently tapped her on the arm, having no idea of how to comfort her, to make her feel better. He was not the romantic sort, and he felt utterly clueless around her most of the time. He was not a complete idiot; he knew that he... felt something... for Hawke. He just didn't... know how to let her know that, really. Or, more, he couldn't let her know that. He had already screwed things up between them quite sufficiently.
Hawke glanced down at his hand and took a breath, nodding brusquely. She led them off again, and after trips down more corridors filled with creatures that belonged to blood mages or in the Fade, they came to a room with a man in it, and Hawke tensed. The room had books around, and there was a chair facing away from them, but the top of a veil that looked like it belonged to a bride was visible just over the top of the chair. She took another step closer before the man noticed them. He faced them and smiled, but it was a cold sort of smile. One that belonged on the face of a killer - it was perfect. With a glance down, Fenris saw that Hawke's fists were clenched, and she herself was tensed like a coil. He assumed it was taking quite a bit of her self-control to keep herself from springing at the man like a varterral.
It only took one hesitant pause before Fenris cautiously lifted a hand and set it on her shoulder. If it were possible, she was even more tense, but when she glanced back and realized who it was, she was much more relaxed. Fenris attempted a reassuring smile for her, but Hawke had already turned around and didn't see it. "Let her go," she said calmly to the mysterious man in front of them. As expected, he was wearing robes. As Fenris had mentioned earlier, what did magic touch that it did not spoil? He had been beyond furious earlier, of course, and he had wrongly taken it out on Hawke, but all the same. Magic was like its very own poison, hurting those who were even remotely involved with it.
The blood mage - as all four of them had deducted, after facing all those dreadful creatures, by now - ignored Hawke, the small, queer smile still in place. "Leandra was so sure that you would come, you know." His voice was calm, lilting, almost as if he were trying to lull them into letting their guard down. With a glance behind him, he noticed that the abomination - Anders - just looked uncomfortable, and Varric, unimpressed. Good. They were not giving in. The mage was speaking again, though, and Fenris directed his gaze back to him. "It's too late. She... she looks just like her. I couldn't help myself. I took the eyes, the hands, the body... and dear, sweet Leandra had... the facial structure... It was perfect. I loved her. But the Maker" - he said the revered name in spite, as if it were a dirty word that would destroy him if he uttered it - "took her from me. She didn't deserve that. So I brought her back. Oh..."
Hawke looked paralyzed now, when Fenris looked at her. Not that he could blame her - it had taken a moment, but he understood what the lunatic meant now. He meant that those other women he had killed... he had taken an element from each of them to create a woman that would look like his dead wife... and Leandra had been the unfortunate one to have the facial structure he needed. Hawke was even paler than usual, but Fenris kept his hand on her shoulder. When she shouted, Anders jumped, but Fenris stayed there. Varric didn't seem to have a reaction. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" Hawke demanded, her voice raising up to a screech. This was certainly a change of pace. Never before had Fenris heard her raise her voice - Hawke was always so controlled and calm; she joked much of the time - to such an angry tone, and so loud. If it was him the anger was directed out, Fenris might have even been scared, but the man was shaking already; quaking in his boots.
"She's... she's right here," he said, taking a step to the left as the visible bit of veil in the chair away from them rose and turned to face them. An incredulous gasp from Anders. A "what the hell?!" from Varric. From Hawke, there was a yelp, and she was quivering under Fenris's hand. Leandra looked... There was a stitch around her neck, and her eyes were gray and dead, no longer full of the life that had always been there, that had never ebbed, even in the darkest of times. The quartet watched in horror as she staggered over to the mage - literally. She seemed unsteady on her legs, like a newborn nug.
Hawke started towards the mage, but she did not get far. He immediately summoned a small round ball of light around himself and the new Leandra. "You won't take her from me!" he shouted desperately, summoning more than the protective light shield. Now the small group was surrounded by more abominations, shades, rage demons, and even a desire demon. Immediately, Hawke had her weapons drawn and had leapt for the nearest foe. Varric backed up and rained down bullets on the enemies, while Anders followed him off to the side, shooting spells at whoever was closest to him. Fenris followed Hawke's lead, unsheathing his sword and swinging away at a rage demon. If he failed at this... he was letting Hawke down. He refused to do that once again.
"I'll take her from you if I please! She's my mother!" Hawke roared, still fighting. She ducked a powerful spell the desire demon shot at her and moved closer, then disappeared briefly, reappearing behind the demon and stabbing it harshly in the back. When the desire demon turned, Fenris, finished with the rage demon, ran up and swiftly ran his sword through the desire demon's neck, cleanly decapitating it. Hawke nodded a thanks and ran to the mage, since he'd made the mistake of taking his shield down. Leandra, it seemed, had moved away from the battle, just watching with those quiet, dead eyes. Fenris shook his head at himself as he, Varric, and Anders all joined Hawke in finishing off the mage.
It didn't take long; all four of them versus the blood mage was unfair, but none of them cared. He was dead quite quickly, and Hawke collapsed onto the floor, drawing her mother into her arms, as Hawke wasn't the only one who had collapsed. Leandra had fallen after they finished off the blood mage. Politely, Fenris, Varric, and Anders all stood back, just looking at the two. Hawke looked close to tears, and Fenris prayed she would not cry. He could not handle that, he knew.
"I... don't blame you, darling. You've... made me so... proud, you know. The mansion's back... my childhood... I love you, dear..." Leandra said, looking up at Hawke. "I'll... be with your father, now. And Carver. But... you'll be alone..." she whispered, blinking slowly. Leandra was pale as the dress she was wearing by now, and Fenris could tell she only had so long before it was all over. For her sake, he hoped it was quick. Absentmindedly, he added in his head, She will not be alone. Hawke has me. He wanted to slap himself for it. He had killed any chance of having something with Hawke long ago, and, as it was his own choice, he would just have to deal with it.
Hawke was shaking her head, almost like she did not believe what was happening right now. "Don't worry about me, Mother." she managed a weak smile. "You know I can kill all the bad guys." Then she glanced up to Anders, who just shook his head. "Anders, can't you.... can't you do something?" she pleaded. The mage kept shaking his head, and, even though he did not like magic, Fenris was overcome with an urge to strangle him or threaten him until he did something useful.
Seemingly ignoring Hawke's last remark, Leandra let out a small laugh. "I'll miss you, sweetheart... Tell Bethany I... love her, too. And that I'm... sorry... I couldn't... save her..."
Hawke shook her head vigorously. "That was... the templars, Mother. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine." Fenris knew right away that Hawke was lying here. She had admitted to him she felt like Bethany would not be trapped with the Circle now if she had taken her into the Deep Roads when she went. It took a moment before Fenris realized that Hawke had just told her mother that so she would not worrry. He could not help but to smile faintly, though it dropped the next second; this was no time for smiling.
"Goodbye, darling." With that, Leandra shut her eyes, let out one last shudder, and let her body go still. She was still in Hawke's arms, and Hawke just stared at her dead mother for a moment before she dropped her head onto Leandra's chest and sobbed silently. Fenris looked away, not wanting to see or hear this. He felt so uncomfortable, and Hawke crying was just... He could not even think of a word for it, it was so rare. And it was something he never wanted to witness again. Hawke's was not a face meant for sadness. Her lips were meant to be in the sarcastic, wry smile they were almost always in, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief - not tears.
After a few more moments, Hawke gently pushed Leandra's corpse off her and stood up. She picked up the woman and lifted her into the chair she had been sitting in earlier, then just left her there, heading for the exit. She had not even made eye contact with any of them before she set off, but when she glanced over their way, Fenris could see the cold look in her eyes. She was angry, but she had already avenged her mother and there was nothing more she could do. But... her eyes had been so very cold... it was wrong. He saw Anders and Varric exchange glances before they walked slowly after her. Fenris waited for a moment, looking around the room, but then he walked after the rest of them, wondering how his mother dying in his arms would feel. For all he knew, such a thing had already happened. Right now, though, was Hawke's tragedy, and he was going to suck it up and try to find a way to make this more bearable for her.
... Ask questions if you want, there are probably quite a few terms in here that, if you haven't played the game, you don't know.
Complications: Part One
Catching up to her was more difficult than Fenris had thought it might be. Hawke was on an all-out sprint. He supposed it was understandable, considering she thought her mother was in the hands of a man known to abduct and kill women. That was probably a good reason to be on edge. And running. Running very, very fast.
"Hawke, slow down!" Varric complained, behind even Anders, who was in robes. Then again, with those short legs of his, Fenris thought, it was no surprise the dwarf wasn't quite as fast as an apostate in robes.
As she showed no sign of slowing down, Fenris sped up, catching up to her relatively quickly. She had stopped by now; she was bent over a pool scarlet liquid on the concrete flooring of Lowtown. "Where is he taking her?" she muttered, clearly frustrated. "This is the only..." The sound of her voice trailed off into a mutter so Fenris could no longer hear her. He directed moss green eyes away from the blood and around the vicinity. Wordlessly, he raised a hand to point over to steps nearby. Hawke's own eyes - almost the color of lyrium - followed the gesture, and she leapt up instantly, running over to them. "It keeps going!" she cried, dashing down the stairs.
Anders had already caught up, but Varric had just arrived when they were off again. He shot Fenris a spiteful glare, as if to say "you just had to point that out now, didn't you"? Fenris could scarcely surpress the tugging at the corners of his lips - the start of a smirk. But now was not the time, and, instead, he raced down the stairs after Hawke, who was following pools of blood across Lowtown. Hmph. And Varric thought Fenris was morbid.
After enough running to match up with the amount of walking Anders had probably done in a week at the Circle, they stopped. Hawke was standing at the door of the Lowtown Foundry, a delicate hand on the knob of the door. She did not seem able to move until Fenris walked up the stairwell behind her and nudged her in the arm. She glanced over to him and nodded, almost imperceptibly, before turning the knob and throwing the door open. More pools of blood to follow. Fenris knew that, even though Varric and Anders had finally caught up, neither of them had seen the sudden loss of hope on her soft features.
"We have to find her," she said, sounding determined instead of hopeless. Once again, Hawke was keeping up the bravado. Leandra had been kind to all of them; none of the group would wish a single bad thing on her. And that was without knowing what would be the outcome if Leandra was hurt. Hawke was vital in all of this; if she fell apart, who knew what would happen? She could fall apart at any moment. She had lost her brother to an ogre, her sister to the Circle, her father before they had even left Ferelden... her mother was all she had left. At least Fenris couldn't miss his parents or hurt over them if he did not even know who they were. Where they existed. If they existed.
As soon as they ran down the stairwell of the Foundry, a few shades and abominations emerged from the unforgiving, stone ground. They all had their weapons out quickly, but Hawke, even quicker than usual, it seemed. When Fenris went to swing at the nearest abomination, he had to stop his sword short because Hawke had jumped in the way. He doubted she even knew that she had done it, but it still got on his nerves - he could have sliced her in two! Nevertheless, the abomination had been smoothly dispatched in under five seconds, and she had moved on to the next one.
Since there were only two other than the one Hawke was currently tormenting, Fenris left them to Anders and Varric, who, he knew, could take care of themselves. He opted to watch her instead. Normally, she fought quickly and efficiently, but this was almost... frenzied. As if she would break into hysterics at any second. Somehow, though, even half mad, she managed to look graceful. Fenris knew that some women looked beautiful around childen, some while they cooked, others while they sewed... Hawke looked beautiful in battle. It was the elegance with which she moved, the swiftness. It was the way her hair slid forward into her eyes, the concentrated look in those lyrium eyes while she dodged any attacks thrown at her. It was the way she snuck up behind an opponent and slipped her dagger into his back, the opponent none the wiser until he was curled up on the floor. It was for these reasons that Hawke was a woman to be respected.
But he had gotten caught up watching her. The abomination was dead, and all the others, along with the shades, had been looted. Varric, it seemed, was leading the way now, following the pools of blood. Hawke followed behind he and Anders, not seeming the least bit bothered about the ambush that had just been forced upon them. When Fenris had caught up, he stared at the ground as he walked, silent for a period. "Almost as if he was expecting us, isn't it?" he muttered to her.
Hawke, all steely determination, did not answer, her eyes straight ahead as she walked, her head held high. He had not seen her eyes colder than this, even once. Maybe the losses were getting to her. There had been many, after all, and she was resolved that there not be one more. Especially not her own mother.
They fought through more abominations, shades, and demons on their way further into the Foundry, Varric, Anders, and Fenris all finding it difficult to get in a hit at any point. Hawke was furious, Fenris realized, and it was at that point it hit him that out of anything you could put that woman through to piss her off, messing with her family was a line you simply did not cross. If Leandra was dead... Even Fenris didn't want to think of what might happen then. Still, he could not find it in himself to have any pity for the man who had taken her.
When they came to a room that seemed to have a shrine dedicated to... Leandra? it couldn't be... Hawke paused, staring up at the picture that looked so familiar, hanging over the fireplace. "It looks... just like Mother when she was younger," she whispered, wide-eyed. Fenris gently tapped her on the arm, having no idea of how to comfort her, to make her feel better. He was not the romantic sort, and he felt utterly clueless around her most of the time. He was not a complete idiot; he knew that he... felt something... for Hawke. He just didn't... know how to let her know that, really. Or, more, he couldn't let her know that. He had already screwed things up between them quite sufficiently.
Hawke glanced down at his hand and took a breath, nodding brusquely. She led them off again, and after trips down more corridors filled with creatures that belonged to blood mages or in the Fade, they came to a room with a man in it, and Hawke tensed. The room had books around, and there was a chair facing away from them, but the top of a veil that looked like it belonged to a bride was visible just over the top of the chair. She took another step closer before the man noticed them. He faced them and smiled, but it was a cold sort of smile. One that belonged on the face of a killer - it was perfect. With a glance down, Fenris saw that Hawke's fists were clenched, and she herself was tensed like a coil. He assumed it was taking quite a bit of her self-control to keep herself from springing at the man like a varterral.
It only took one hesitant pause before Fenris cautiously lifted a hand and set it on her shoulder. If it were possible, she was even more tense, but when she glanced back and realized who it was, she was much more relaxed. Fenris attempted a reassuring smile for her, but Hawke had already turned around and didn't see it. "Let her go," she said calmly to the mysterious man in front of them. As expected, he was wearing robes. As Fenris had mentioned earlier, what did magic touch that it did not spoil? He had been beyond furious earlier, of course, and he had wrongly taken it out on Hawke, but all the same. Magic was like its very own poison, hurting those who were even remotely involved with it.
The blood mage - as all four of them had deducted, after facing all those dreadful creatures, by now - ignored Hawke, the small, queer smile still in place. "Leandra was so sure that you would come, you know." His voice was calm, lilting, almost as if he were trying to lull them into letting their guard down. With a glance behind him, he noticed that the abomination - Anders - just looked uncomfortable, and Varric, unimpressed. Good. They were not giving in. The mage was speaking again, though, and Fenris directed his gaze back to him. "It's too late. She... she looks just like her. I couldn't help myself. I took the eyes, the hands, the body... and dear, sweet Leandra had... the facial structure... It was perfect. I loved her. But the Maker" - he said the revered name in spite, as if it were a dirty word that would destroy him if he uttered it - "took her from me. She didn't deserve that. So I brought her back. Oh..."
Hawke looked paralyzed now, when Fenris looked at her. Not that he could blame her - it had taken a moment, but he understood what the lunatic meant now. He meant that those other women he had killed... he had taken an element from each of them to create a woman that would look like his dead wife... and Leandra had been the unfortunate one to have the facial structure he needed. Hawke was even paler than usual, but Fenris kept his hand on her shoulder. When she shouted, Anders jumped, but Fenris stayed there. Varric didn't seem to have a reaction. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" Hawke demanded, her voice raising up to a screech. This was certainly a change of pace. Never before had Fenris heard her raise her voice - Hawke was always so controlled and calm; she joked much of the time - to such an angry tone, and so loud. If it was him the anger was directed out, Fenris might have even been scared, but the man was shaking already; quaking in his boots.
"She's... she's right here," he said, taking a step to the left as the visible bit of veil in the chair away from them rose and turned to face them. An incredulous gasp from Anders. A "what the hell?!" from Varric. From Hawke, there was a yelp, and she was quivering under Fenris's hand. Leandra looked... There was a stitch around her neck, and her eyes were gray and dead, no longer full of the life that had always been there, that had never ebbed, even in the darkest of times. The quartet watched in horror as she staggered over to the mage - literally. She seemed unsteady on her legs, like a newborn nug.
Hawke started towards the mage, but she did not get far. He immediately summoned a small round ball of light around himself and the new Leandra. "You won't take her from me!" he shouted desperately, summoning more than the protective light shield. Now the small group was surrounded by more abominations, shades, rage demons, and even a desire demon. Immediately, Hawke had her weapons drawn and had leapt for the nearest foe. Varric backed up and rained down bullets on the enemies, while Anders followed him off to the side, shooting spells at whoever was closest to him. Fenris followed Hawke's lead, unsheathing his sword and swinging away at a rage demon. If he failed at this... he was letting Hawke down. He refused to do that once again.
"I'll take her from you if I please! She's my mother!" Hawke roared, still fighting. She ducked a powerful spell the desire demon shot at her and moved closer, then disappeared briefly, reappearing behind the demon and stabbing it harshly in the back. When the desire demon turned, Fenris, finished with the rage demon, ran up and swiftly ran his sword through the desire demon's neck, cleanly decapitating it. Hawke nodded a thanks and ran to the mage, since he'd made the mistake of taking his shield down. Leandra, it seemed, had moved away from the battle, just watching with those quiet, dead eyes. Fenris shook his head at himself as he, Varric, and Anders all joined Hawke in finishing off the mage.
It didn't take long; all four of them versus the blood mage was unfair, but none of them cared. He was dead quite quickly, and Hawke collapsed onto the floor, drawing her mother into her arms, as Hawke wasn't the only one who had collapsed. Leandra had fallen after they finished off the blood mage. Politely, Fenris, Varric, and Anders all stood back, just looking at the two. Hawke looked close to tears, and Fenris prayed she would not cry. He could not handle that, he knew.
"I... don't blame you, darling. You've... made me so... proud, you know. The mansion's back... my childhood... I love you, dear..." Leandra said, looking up at Hawke. "I'll... be with your father, now. And Carver. But... you'll be alone..." she whispered, blinking slowly. Leandra was pale as the dress she was wearing by now, and Fenris could tell she only had so long before it was all over. For her sake, he hoped it was quick. Absentmindedly, he added in his head, She will not be alone. Hawke has me. He wanted to slap himself for it. He had killed any chance of having something with Hawke long ago, and, as it was his own choice, he would just have to deal with it.
Hawke was shaking her head, almost like she did not believe what was happening right now. "Don't worry about me, Mother." she managed a weak smile. "You know I can kill all the bad guys." Then she glanced up to Anders, who just shook his head. "Anders, can't you.... can't you do something?" she pleaded. The mage kept shaking his head, and, even though he did not like magic, Fenris was overcome with an urge to strangle him or threaten him until he did something useful.
Seemingly ignoring Hawke's last remark, Leandra let out a small laugh. "I'll miss you, sweetheart... Tell Bethany I... love her, too. And that I'm... sorry... I couldn't... save her..."
Hawke shook her head vigorously. "That was... the templars, Mother. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine." Fenris knew right away that Hawke was lying here. She had admitted to him she felt like Bethany would not be trapped with the Circle now if she had taken her into the Deep Roads when she went. It took a moment before Fenris realized that Hawke had just told her mother that so she would not worrry. He could not help but to smile faintly, though it dropped the next second; this was no time for smiling.
"Goodbye, darling." With that, Leandra shut her eyes, let out one last shudder, and let her body go still. She was still in Hawke's arms, and Hawke just stared at her dead mother for a moment before she dropped her head onto Leandra's chest and sobbed silently. Fenris looked away, not wanting to see or hear this. He felt so uncomfortable, and Hawke crying was just... He could not even think of a word for it, it was so rare. And it was something he never wanted to witness again. Hawke's was not a face meant for sadness. Her lips were meant to be in the sarcastic, wry smile they were almost always in, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief - not tears.
After a few more moments, Hawke gently pushed Leandra's corpse off her and stood up. She picked up the woman and lifted her into the chair she had been sitting in earlier, then just left her there, heading for the exit. She had not even made eye contact with any of them before she set off, but when she glanced over their way, Fenris could see the cold look in her eyes. She was angry, but she had already avenged her mother and there was nothing more she could do. But... her eyes had been so very cold... it was wrong. He saw Anders and Varric exchange glances before they walked slowly after her. Fenris waited for a moment, looking around the room, but then he walked after the rest of them, wondering how his mother dying in his arms would feel. For all he knew, such a thing had already happened. Right now, though, was Hawke's tragedy, and he was going to suck it up and try to find a way to make this more bearable for her.
... Ask questions if you want, there are probably quite a few terms in here that, if you haven't played the game, you don't know.