I’m 5250 words into part 2 of For What Binds Us, and my goal is to finish the rough draft for the entire thing by the end of the month. Feasible, I think, if I don’t slack off too much – I decided to try my hand at Nanowrimo again this year with my Rivain fic, so it would be good to have the one to revise while pounding words out for the other.
Anyway, haven’t posted nearly enough snippets for this part, so let’s remedy that:
Donnic blows out a deep breath. “The oxmen,” he replies, rolling the stem of the glass between his fingers. “When they started throwing spears at us, and Brendan and Adrianne fell, it felt like everything was—slipping away. Like none of it was real, but everything was too real at the same time.” He looks at him. “Do you know what I mean?”
Most of the life Fenris remembers was spent waiting for such moments. Try as he might, he remembers no fear—not even surprise—when he heard the commotion break out inside the Qunari compound; just the comforting weight of the hilt in his hands and the whistle of his blade as he ran it through the guards posted at the gates before kicking them open for Hawke and Aveline to emerge with half as many guardsmen as had accompanied them.
It was a long run to the Viscount’s Keep while he tried to piece the whole story together from the accusations they cast at each other. Crimson mottled Aveline’s cheeks; Hawke’s knuckles were white around the grip of her staff. “I’d have killed your guardsmen with my bare hands if they’d touched one hair on my sister’s head,” she spat, eyes bright with firelight, the marble of the Hightown market darkening where one teardrop fell. Hawke had a sister before, Fenris remembered then, and he wondered if he would have done the same for Varania before the ritual wiped all memory of her.
Then the thought was swept away amidst ashes and sparks, yet Kirkwall withstood the storm, as did Hawke, and Aveline, and the steel-strong bonds between them. The two women were joined in their grief, long ago, the rips and tears left in the wake of Wesley’s and Bethany’s deaths scarring over to stitch them together as sure as blood ties. And even as they lay blame at the other’s feet for hurtling the city into chaos, the Qunari invasion was just another suture between them.
“It was a long time coming,” Fenris starts with a shrug. “Merely a matter of when.”