Dragon Age
Chapter 4
How could they not remember her? The question that had been painfully seared into his mind these past few months. She had done so much for all of them, loved all of them, and they loved her in return. She was probably Fenris and Varric’s closest friend besides himself.
How could Fenris not remember those nights Amara stayed with him after he killed Hadriana? After his memories started returning to him? He smiled slightly remembering the night she had returned home to him, jealously had lighted a flame of anger and want that burned inside him, nearly exploding the minute she stepped through the door.
He would never forget that night, their relationship was still shaky then, neither of them sure what they wanted. Looking back now though, he wasn’t sure how he ever doubted how much he meant to her. The look in her eyes, the way she touched him and whispered in his ear as he held her on top of him. Perhaps he was the only one that was ever unsure? He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what she wanted all along. He wanted to berate himself for his idiocy, but he knew it hadn’t taken much longer after that night for him to come to terms with how much he cared for her.
When she was gone, no…when she had disappeared, he no longer knew what to do with himself. Confused at how she had disappeared like that, hurt, angry even, that she had left him, which of course was washed away by guilt because he knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never have left him by choice.
Everything in his home reminded him of her though and he sharply felt the hollow ache in his chest when he realized that, which of course didn’t take long. He started sitting in her favorite chair by the fireplace, sleeping on her side of their bed just to be reminded of her smell, he even started placing her coat or one of her shirts near places that he often went to in their home just to try and ease at least a small bit of that pain he so acutely felt.
The day after she disappeared, and he discovered that no one remembered who she was, like she had never existed, pain tore through the rest of the heart that he had left. How could they not remember her? The ship in a bottle that she had found and told him to give to Isabela so that she may trust him a bit more. The way she had comforted his sister when she got sent to the circle. The warm smile on her face that she used to calm Aveline as she helped her get together with Donnic. None of them remembered a single thing she did for them. Of course, they recognized something was wrong with him, he didn’t think he could have hidden his misery even if he tried, but he didn’t know what to tell them and that hurt all the more.
Then he’s receiving a letter from Varric, asking him to come to Haven and help the Inquisition. He wanted to refuse at first, the last thing he needed was to deal with those religious fanatics, but then he remembered there was nothing for him at home, not until Amara came home to him at least.
That was what pushed him to agree to come, he needed some space from their home. As much as he wanted to stay there, scared that she would come home and he would not be there, the mansion was suffocating him, there were too many memories there.
So he agreed to come and, after some small arguments on his part, Fenris had decided to come with him. He knew the elf was worried and didn’t want him to be alone, he didn’t mind all that much with Fenris coming along. While Fenris could be as conversational as the next person, he enjoyed silence just as much, maybe even a little more; he wouldn’t spend the whole trip trying to get him to talk.
There were, admittedly, a few nights where he had dreamed of her, of moments they spent together, by themselves and with their friends. He would wake up feeling betrayed by Fenris and Varric, feeling betrayed for Amara because the few people who were supposed to remember her and cherish the memories they had with her had forgotten her. But he would quickly shake away the anger because he knew it was their fault as much as it was Amara’s, they had no control of forgetting her.
Finally they had made it to Haven, he was beginning to regret leaving his home, how could this have made it better? He felt like perhaps it had made things worse as she was frequenting his dreams more often then she had at home.
Then he saw Varric in the distance, telling him to hurry his ass up, and he felt relief sweep through him at seeing his old friend. He may not have been able to explain his misery to Varric, but just his presence alone was enough.
That was until he heard him calling out again, except it was for someone else this time, someone he called Hummingbird. Hawke had felt his heart skip a beat and his breath rush out of his body. Hummingbird was what Varric would call Amara, saying she would flit and flutter from person to person, checking on them until they caught on and then she would take off. She was always on the move, always doing something. Hope built inside him as he realized either Amara was here, that she had finally come back to him, or that he had taken to calling someone else that, not knowing that the nickname was reserved for someone else very important to him.
She had popped out of the tree line like she was never gone, prattling off something about druffalos, and he felt like he had never seen a sight so beautiful. Her silvery hair was falling over her shoulder as she stared at the ground, biting her lip, something that she always did when she was concentrating. He could see that her cheeks were pink, and the tip of her nose was red from the cold, the old familiar feeling of concern bubbling up inside of him, worrying that her small form would get too cold. He couldn’t help the small quick smile when she tripped over a root and glared at it. Maker, she was as beautiful as when he had first met her, wide eyed and scared, but confident enough to try and hide her fear. But then his happiness was shattered to pieces, his hopes falling once more because once she had reached them, nothing had happened. She had merely smiled at him and Fenris in amusement and asked who they were.
To his horror he realized she didn’t remember either of them. Andraste and the Maker must have held a special hate for him, they must have enjoyed his misery. He watched as she laughed at something Fenris had said, but judging his confusion, it wasn’t on purpose. The sound had brought just as much pain to him as it did joy. His mind was overwhelmed, he didn’t know how to act towards her when his fingers were aching to touch her, his arms burning from his want to grab her and pull her to him, never letting go of her again.
“And you?” He heard her ask and he returned his attention to her again. My love, My Hawke, Sweetness, Dearest, My Garrett…the endearments she had called him came flying to his mind, her voice whispering them sweetly in his ear and he gulped.
“Uh, Hawke, just…Hawke.” His mind screamed at him that it wasn’t right, he was never just Hawke to her. He sighed, feeling more tired and defeated than he had ever felt in his life. Then she was sticking her hand out, her light green eyes bright and her smile wide and warm. He hesitated, not sure if touching her at the moment was the greatest of ideas, but he put his hand in hers anyways. He immediately felt the spark he would feel whenever they touched, the shiver that would go down his spine when she looked at him, and he had to look away, he couldn’t take it. Everyone was silent and he knew not one of them understood the situation or how to deal with it.
“I’m sorry! My hands must be freezing!” She said cautiously, an excuse to pull her hand away, and when she did so, he felt the same stab of pain to his chest that he felt the day that she had left. His Amara was gone, this wasn’t her, the looks were the same, even the personality and mannerisms were the same, but it still wasn’t his Amara. If it was she would have been as miserable as he was, feeling the same relief as he was for finding the other part of her, the part that had been missing for months. But this woman didn’t feel any of that and he was weighed down with wondering whether he should just accept it or hope that there was a chance his Amara was still locked away somewhere in there.
“It’s alright, I didn’t really notice.” Which wasn’t a lie, his body had been numb since she had walked out of the tree line, the turmoil of his emotions making everything else a secondary concern. He glanced at her and felt the pain increase when he realized he had hurt her with his actions, she thought he didn’t like her. She was trying to hide it, but she never could with him, he knew everything about her and he could read her like a book, whether she knew it or not. He had to look away again, frustration and guilt bubbling up in him and he felt helplessness wash over him.