While Hawke's body continued to scream in agony, within his own head, everything had gone relatively quiet as Albiorix closed off his own thoughts. The myriad of Theo's dying had come to an end at last as Hawke felt the man wall off  his memories and emotions, leaving only silence. Silence and whatever ideas that the other had obviously wanted to push through to him quite badly. Usually Hawke could fight through those defenses, but he was currently much too weak. Besides, for now, the other side of the link was strangely pleasant . . . and a welcome respite from the chaos of his own existence in this moment. Hawke let his mind rest for even just a few seconds, though his body could do anything but.<br/><br/>Albiorix's words flowed over him, an alien presence in his own thoughts.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#5900b3"> It took you long enough . . .  </span></i>Instinctively, Hawke rose to the slight jab, unable to resist the man's taunting attitude.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)">I've been fighting to keep her out, you ungrateful bastard . . .  </span></i>Of course he hadn't intended those words to ever reach the Death Eater, forgetting in his exhaustion that he didn't need to open his mouth in order to insult someone privy to his own thoughts. With a mental shrug, he continued.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>You think I don't know what she'll do to me if she realizes this merging exists?</i></span><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)">Or who I work for? </span></i>He knew all too well. And once Analiese was done using Hawke as conduit to learn whatever secrets she so desperately needed, he doubted her killing curse would be a bluff the second time around.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)">Don't act so smug . . . </span></i>A particularly powerful wave of pain forced him into a brief silence.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(179, 0, 0)">I should have just told her where you are, offered to help her catch you, myself. </span></i>Except he hadn't because of this link. And now he'd sooner die than help this madwoman.<br/><br/>With little options, or no options at all, rather, the Auror listened to Albiorix's deal, weighing. Considering. Let this man take such free reign within his mind that he could manipulate his senses . . . see through his eyes.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>You can't possibly think . . . </i></span>His immediate reaction was to deny the request, obviously. Hawke knew what the other could use those precious few moments to accomplish. The man could dismantle him from the inside out, blind him, paralyze him if he so wished. Even now, Hawke could feel the impatient Death Eater nudging at the link, testing Hawke's fortitude.<br/><br/>But perhaps Albiorix hadn't yet thought of those things, too desperate to acquire that ring currently glinting menacingly at Hawke from the bitch's finger. He was unable to hide the sense of recognition from the other as images of the stone faded into his mind. At this point, as the torture curse continued to ravage his nerves, the blond found he didn't care what sort of heinous uses the other man intended to use that ring for. Whatever its purpose, Hawke knew it was obviously just as deadly on this woman's hand as Albiorix's. If he could just escape this somehow with his sanity intact, he'd deal with the aftermath later.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">The ring for my freedom.</span></i>Though he had no way of knowing if he could trust the man's word or not. He'd bet his life the answer was not something he currently wanted to hear.<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Fine, but if you screw me over . . . </span></i>If Albiorix screwed him over, he'd be dead. And the Death Eater likely knew that just as well. [/COLOR]<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">Fuck it . . .</span></i>It wasn't as if he'd get out of here any other way.<br/><br/>With no choice, Hawke submitted to Albiorix's persistence, turning his gaze to the floor as he let the other see through his eyes. His gaze drifted to the window, taking in the treetops outside, then the antique furniture. Anywhere but Analiese's own vision.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"><i>You recognize any of this atrocious decor? Brings back childhood memories, perhaps? </i></span>Even in agony as he was, it seemed his sarcasm was here to stay.