Fic: A Box of Rain

[seven_corbies]

Title: A Box of Rain
Rating: PG (mostly melancholy)
Characters: M!Hawke (Elliot)/Anders, Carver makes an appearance
Summary: Hawke and Carver remember their common ground.




 “Who’s this?” Anders hissed.  Elliot Hawke stepped slightly in front of the healer, reaching slowly for his belt knife. Whoever the clanking intruder was - and this man was most definitely not the usual templar, Marie – the knife would take care of him more quietly than a lightning bolt. But the shuffling templar was carrying something large in his arms and was followed by five furtive shadows. He paused and scraped his boot four times against the ground and cleared his throat. Anders shrugged and knocked on the wall twice.

            Hawke checked behind the group as Anders went to the new templar. He heard Anders begin to ask carefully, “What happened to our usual… oh! Hello.”

            “Anders, she needs help,” the knight muttered urgently. Hawke’s spine drew tight at the voice. When he looked back, Anders was kneeling as Carver laid his burden down and spread out the blanket wrapping it.

            “Maker.” Anders’s hands began to glow as he tried to gage the injured girl’s condition. She coughed blood in the dim light from the cave mouth and began to spasm. “Elliot, come here! Hold her shoulders.”

            Hawke slid into his familiar assistant’s role, forgetting to acknowledge his brother. He pressed his gloved fingers into the girl’s mouth to keep her from swallowing her tongue as she bucked. She smelled faintly of unwashed flesh and wounds gone putrid, but the fresh copper tang of blood was close to overwhelming everything else. Finally, she arched up with a sharp gasp and sank back down with a rattle that Hawke had heard dozens of times over his years of helping in the clinic.   

            Everyone was still for a moment. Carver still held her hand, calling softly, “Sharlese? Come on, Sharlese, you can do it.”

            Gently, Anders pulled her hand away and tucked it into her blanket. “I’m sorry, Carver. She was too far gone. Was she a friend?”

            Carver shook his head. “I barely knew her. They beat her for pushing a templar in the hallway. This tiny girl against a big man in armor and she pushed him because he wouldn’t stop making fun of an apprentice. For that they broke her bones and threw her in a cell and forgot all about her.”

            One of the hooded mages cowering against the cave wall let out a muffled sob and a taller figure pulled the smaller close. Hawke caught a glimpse of a young, smooth cheek streaked with tears. The tormented apprentice. Anders put his hand around the back of Carver’s neck and pressed their foreheads together briefly. “You tried, Carver. That’s all you can do. She, Sharlese, didn’t die forgotten in a hole. You gave her that much.”

            The knight sniffed and gathered the body to him. Hawke stood almost too fast and stood off to the side, awkward and uncertain. Anders glanced between the brothers, but did not say anything except, “Let’s get moving. There’s a ship waiting for these people.”   

            The pathetic band made their way down the Wounded Coast without further incident and the refugees filed into the hold of a fishing vessel. While Anders spoke with the captain, Carver and Elliot eyed each other. “Why… Why are you here?”

            Carver shrugged. “I made a promise that I would get her out when I could.” He pulled the blanket away from Sharlese’s face so that his brother could see her more clearly in the dawning light. Hawke could see it in the shape of her face, the cut and color of her hair, even in the proportions of her broken limbs and the warm brown of her dull eyes that would not yet stay closed.

            “Oh,” said Hawke.

            “I know it’s not Beth. I know that. But for her, I had to… I don’t know.”

            “May I..? Where do you think she would want to be buried?”

            Carver still wouldn’t look his brother in the eye as he let Hawke take her. He blinked back tears and said gruffly, “Near the sea. On the shore. She should be able to hear the birds.”

            Elliot nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll take care of her. You need to get back. It was… good to see you.”

            The templar met the mage’s gaze for just a second.

            “Likewise, brother.”


(Note: Guys, I'm sorry for the maudlin tone of this one. It's coming up on the anniversary my brother's death, so this one's for Dan.)