Thief+Dishonored Fics And Crossovers

The Morning's Wake

Erin peels her eyelids open only to be immediately blinded by the rising sun. The light burns her eyes and makes her head throb. She groans and shuts her eyes against the invasive light.

Wait. Sunrise?

She bolts upright before she can think better of it. She cries out, clutching at her head and curling in on herself, some distant part of her registering the feel of the wooden deck beneath her and the sound of the waves around her. She opens her eyes again once she's certain she'll be able to actually see. She freezes in place.

Garrett is lying inches away, unmoving and eyes closed. Slowly she crawls over, body aching, and holds her hand just in front of his nose and mouth. The lightest breath tickles her palm. She breathes a sigh of relief. She can't see any blood or obvious injuries. He'll be okay. After all, she was possessed by the Primal and she survived. She finally peels herself off what's left of the deck of the Dawn's Light and winces, legs wobbling. Barely, she amends.

A breeze comes in off the ocean and her entire body breaks into goosebumps. Fuck, that is cold. She'll have to change. Soon. This horrible dress and its layers are all soaked.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees something behind Garrett. She turns her head – slowly this time. The book. That damnable book, lying there like it hasn't caused enough grief for ten lifetimes. A dozen things come racing back to her: the Baron's voice calling for the ritual to start, a flash of blue light, pain, darkness, Orion's voice, the cut of a knife, Garrett. Her heart beats harder, her head aches. It's like she's slipping out of her body again. She can't tell if she's shaking from the cold or from the memories now. For a minute she seriously considers tossing it into the waves below but looking at them makes her dizzy. Aware of the lightening sky and… voices somewhere, she hefts the book into her arms and begins picking her way off the wreckage of the ship and back to the City. Leave the ring for Garrett, she thinks. One more shiny bauble for his collection. She needs to get home to the South Quarter, get her bearings and get warm before she does anything else.

As expected, everything feels like it's falling down around her. The City is always a busy place but today it's just hectic. She's never seen so many people in the Old Quarter before. People are everywhere – the Watch, the Graven, the citizens – all trying to find someplace safe until this all blows over. She tries to avoid them all. Especially the Watch.

They're trying to corral all the remaining Graven and get them off the streets but the Graven refuse to go quietly. One man with a splash of red and white paint across his face throws himself at a Watchman despite the drawn sword. Several people jump into the fray, Watchmen and Graven alike. She uses the chaos to slip by, made more difficult by her noticeable clothes.

Things only get worse the further she goes into the City.

By the time she makes it through the rest of the Old Quarter and gets into Stonemarket, her clothes are drying and sunlight is spilling through the streets. It makes her glad she stayed off the rooftops. But now, back in familiar territory, she can see just how much the City changed while she was gone. She felt it while the Primal was still with her, of course, but to see it…

Almost everything is boarded up or vacant or destroyed. People in rags are huddled against buildings, trying to escape the attention of the roaming packs of Watchmen. Others are running into their homes or businesses in search of safety. The smell of smoke seems to drift through the entire district. She can't escape it.

Then she catches a glimpse of Grandmauden, the great plumes of smoke drifting up into the sky, the fires dotting the tops of buildings all throughout the streets. She forces her sore legs to carry her faster, further away from this.