The bleary sunlight was blotted out as the gargantuan wings spread across the horizon, and the hissing growl issued from between glittering sharp fangs. Purple and fuchsia scales glittered in the early morning light, clever and wry yellow eyes glinting as they observed the woman staring back in longing, jealousy and gratitude. The dragon hissed again, the sound crescendoing into a roar that shook the trees close by, then reared and launched herself into the morning skies, keening her farewell. Maidievh Hawke wondered, and not for the first time in the past few days, what had happened to have legends walk- or in this case, fly- into her life. A few days ago, she'd been certain she and her family were going to die at the hands of the Darkspawn, but now, they were safely at Gwaren, to take ship to Kirkwall, from the favor of a DRAGON, of all things- and not just any dragon, but Flemeth, Asha-Bellenar, The Witch of the Wilds- provided they deliver an amulet to a Dalish Keeper at her behest.

Her eyes followed the dragoness' progress in the sky until she disappeared in the distance, a fierce jealous ache in her heart. Her father had told her stories of dragons and their surrounding myths and legends, and how some mages in Tevinter had been able to change into their shape, to borrow their wings for flight. Maidievh had always dreamed of changing into a dragon, but had thought it an impossible dream. Now, watching Flemeth fly away, she knew it was possible somehow. She only wished the sorceress had at least given her a hint on where to start. To be able to shed her earthly body, trade it for rippling muscle, glittering scales and ripping fangs and claws, and launch herself into the sky, leaving everything behind. To fly far away, to fly away from the Blight, the templars and the pain of everything she had lost...

One day, Mai. One day. For now, we need to get the family, and Aveline, to safety, she thought, tearing her eyes from the sky where Flemeth had been, moving to join her company. Maidievh wasn't happy about the whole situation as they trekked into Gwaren. Flemeth had given them seven sovereigns and a handful of silver to get them aboard a ship, but Mai kept thinking that the sovereigns would be better spent finding a home in Gwaren, and NOT going to Kirkwall, where the templars were thick as thieves, and crueler by far- at least a thief would spare your life if he was in a good mood and you gave him coin. The amulet weighed against Mai's chest, almost thrumming with a latent energy, and her heart sank. She had promised to deliver the amulet, and she never broke a promise. They had no choice. They had to go to Kirkwall. There was no way around it. She sighed and ran her fingers through her honey blonde hair in frustrated resignation, letting the mussed tresses fall in thick waves around her face and over her shoulders before reaching up and rubbing the bridge of her nose, her fingers sliding over the bright pink scar that spanned from cheek to cheek across her nose- a souvenir from her first magic accident.

The morning crowd eyed them apprehensively as they moved into town. It was obvious they were refugees, their clothes dirty, hair disheveled, little carried with them, and some folk were skirting around them as though being a refugee was an illness that was contagious. Aveline furrowed her brow a bit as Mai approached a baker and purchased a few meat pies for their breakfast. Mai knew Aveline was worried about spending too much, but she said nothing as a meat pie was held out to her, her hunger getting the better of her. Mai smiled as Aveline took the proffered pie, eating it with gusto, and she handed one to Carver and Mother before kneeling and holding out one to Aleun. The mabari barked happily and wolfed it down in one hearty bite. She laughed lovingly at him as she devoured her own pie, savoring the warm spiced meat and flaky crust.

"Now there's a spoiled mabari," a dry baritone voice said behind her.

"Is there any other kind?" Mai replied just as dryly, humor keeping any harshness from her voice as she turned, wiping her mouth.

She blanched a bit and skittered back a few steps. For the first time since they'd left Lothering, she was glad her staff- a beloved thing her father had helped her craft, something she'd mourned the loss of, even if it did mark her as a mage to those who saw her- was broken and amongst the ruins of their home as she locked gazes with a man who trusted mages like the Grey Wardens trusted an Archdemon. Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking at Aleun appreciatively. His chevalier armor glinted in the light, his sword and shield strapped to his back, even at this early hour. Mai bowed her head, looking fixedly at the ground.

"G-good morning, Teyrn Mac Tir," she said carefully as he looked over their little rag-tag group.

Aveline was quiet, and Carver was gawking openly, his mouth still full of a bite of pie- ever the slow eater. Leandra nudged him anxiously and he snapped his jaw shut. Loghain looked back at Mai, his steely blue eyes boring into hers, and to her horror, she could see the gears whirring in his mind as he took them in- their appearance, their mabari, the templar shield on Aveline's back, and the fact that Mai had no visible weapons, whereas her companions did- even Leandra had a small dagger strapped to her belt. Mai flicked her aqua colored eyes to the docks, where a boat was waiting, most likely ready to sail before noon. She wanted nothing more than to run for the ship. Loghain frowned.

"You're not residents of Gwaren- I'd remember seeing a family with such a fine mabari," he said carefully. Mai shook her head.

"N-no, your Grace," she replied, her mouth dry. "We've been fleeing the Darkspawn."

Loghain tilted his head, a frown creasing his lean face, his sharp hooded eyes darkening. She knew he was counting the days from Ostagar, recalling the closest town that had been ravaged- and she knew he was wondering how by the Void they'd gotten to Gwaren so quickly. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she felt her stomach bottom out.

"Where are you from?" He asked, and Mai's mouth felt like sandpaper. Leandra looked like she might faint, and Carver was looking pale under the dirt on his face. Aveline stepped forward, and Mai thanked the Maker for her being there, as her quick thinking was what saved them.

"We were at Ostagar, your Grace," she said sadly. "My husband was a templar and he was from Kirkwall, as is this young woman. The Fereldan Circle had asked Kirkwall for assistance, and this senior enchanter was sent to speak with First Enchanter Irving. My husband... Knight Captain Wesley, was sent to talk to Knight Commander Greagoir and watch over her."

Her face grew pained.

"My husband died at Ostagar, and it falls to me to return the Senior Enchanter to Kirkwall."

Loghain was watching and listening with a mixture of sympathy and scrutiny.

"So you're a mage... a Senior Enchanter...," he said carefully. Mai nodded and wondered if she should do some magic to prove her control. Loghain answered the question for her, his face becoming hard.

"So you've had your Harrowing and have control of your magic- even fire," he stated simply.

Mai nodded and conjured a small sphere of flame in her palm, making it spin, dance and grow with little effort, and with a simple motion, dismissed it. Loghain looked uncomfortable, but nodded. Mai, caught up in showing off, lifted a brow and trailed a finger down her own arm, fingertip glowing with a white blue light that was soothing, calming and gentle.

"I know you were wondering at our lack of injuries. I have excellent control, but I am proficient at healing, hence why I was sent to aid the Ferelden Circle- they have few healers," she said. Loghain seemed to be satisfied that his unspoken question was answered, then made a face.

"One dedicated spirit healer, last I checked- their second keeps escaping the Tower- the templars need to tighten their leashes on the mages," he said, and that statement brought his attention back to Aveline.

"And you... are a templar, are you?" He asked skeptically, eyeing her attire. Aveline set her jaw firmly.

"No, your Grace, but I am a soldier in King Cailan's army. It is my duty to my King, deceased or not, that I carry out the work of the Maker, and shoulder the duty my husband was charged to fulfill."

Loghain shifted his weight uncomfortably, and Mai knew Aveline had said the wrong thing. She held out her hands imploringly.

"Please, your Grace. The First Enchanter and the Knight Commander will be most upset if we do not return. We simply wish nothing more than to return to Kirkwall," she said, her tone pleading. Loghain eyed Carver and Leandra.

"And who are these two?" He asked, and Mai was grateful that they were so disheveled and dirty that the familial resemblance was hard to see.

"Fellow refugees," she said simply. Aveline put an arm around Carver's shoulder, and in a clever move, mussed his hair- so that it fell over his face. Carver grumbled, taking up the farce, but wisely kept his big mouth shut. Aveline forced a chuckle before releasing him.

"This young man is my cousin, and this woman is his mother- my aunt," she said simply. "The mabari is hers."

Aleun was a smart dog, and he nosed Leandra's hand, wagging his tail and whining happily. Loghain nodded, still suspicious, but he obviously didn't like Aveline after her statement of duty to the King, and seemed eager to let them move on. Mai glanced at Aveline pointedly.

"We really should see if we can secure passage to Kirkwall- you know the Knight Commander will level the city if we don't come back," she said calmly. Aveline took her lead and nodded anxiously. "We really don't want to upset the First Enchanter, either. I remember the LAST time those two were kept waiting..." Mai said, her lower lip trembling with nerves she didn't need to feign. Aveline shuddered.

"I don't know either of them, but I know Knight Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving, and making Greagoir wait for his mages to return was like telling an Archdemon to wait for a country to get ready before starting a Blight," she said curtly, the comment a stab at Loghain, who didn't even blink, to his credit- though Mai was willing to bet he'd be feeling that lash of Aveline's tongue for a while. Mai wracked her mind- what was the Knight Commander's name again? Father had told her about the harsh methods of the Knight Commander before, told her the templar's name before...a woman's name... Mary, Mildred.. Mer- MEREDITH. That was it.

"Knight Commander Meredith makes an Archdemon look patient. I won't be the subject of her wrath again," she said firmly. She HATED that she didn't know the First Enchanter's name. Why hadn't Father mentioned it? Maker help her, if Loghain asked her their name... she didn't even know if the First Enchanter of Kirkwall was male or female... Void take her, she didn't even know if they were an elf or human! 'Mother, help me!' She thought desperately. Loghain lifted a brow.

"Sounds like the heads of your Tower butt heads worse than ours- is the First Enchanter a man or a woman?" He asked. Mai felt her heart stop. Oh Maker, help her!

"A man, your Grace, an elven man, by the name of Orsino," Leandra said suddenly, and Mai blinked, hoping her mother was right. Leandra shot Mai a look that assured her she was, and Mai huffed.

"Thank you, Miss Varnell, for answering my question," she said in mock offense. Leandra laughed.

"Sorry, miss. This old chicken likes to feel worldly sometimes," she said earnestly. Maidievh looked back at Loghain.

"As my companion has so stated, stealing my authority, First Enchanter Orsino is an elven man, and yes, he and the Knight Commander do not get along so well- to put it lightly. I would rather not be caught between their fury, as it can be a bit uncomfortable, so I'd like to be heading back home as soon as possible," she said cautiously.

Loghain finally relented, and moved aside, motioning at the ship.

"I myself should start heading to Denerim. Have a safe journey then," he said. Mai nodded and headed to the ship, trying not to show her relief. Aveline scowled as soon as the Teyrn turned and headed in the opposite direction.

"Yes, go to Denerim and continue your treason, Loghain, you treacherous bastard," she muttered so only her party could hear. Mai said nothing, relieved that Loghain wouldn't be turning them in to the templars of Ferelden.

'You're relieved to escape Ferelden and make way to the nest of templars in Kirkwall,' she thought wryly to herself. 'You've lost it, Maidievh.'

They reached the docks, and Mai looked to the captain.

"This ship headed to the Free Marches?" She asked. The captain nodded, eyeing her.

"Gonna cost a sovereign a head- won't charge for the mabari if 'e's a good dog and leaves the ship's cat alone," he said carefully. Aleun huffed indignantly, and Mai laughed.

"He won't. He knows better, Ser."

The captain grunted in satisfaction and held out his hand. Mai handed all but two of the sovereigns to the man. Without a word, he nodded and waved them onto the ship. They boarded and settled in the hold out of the sailors' way. Within the hour, the ship began to set sail. Mai leaned against the mast and closed her eyes, mumbling affectionately at Aleun as he curled up against her, but she still worried. They had escaped a minor threat and were heading to a major one.

'I hope this home in Kirkwall is worth it,' Mai thought. She fell asleep, lulled by the rocking of the boat, and her dreams haunted her.

She had shed her weak body for the powerful form of a High Dragon, and she flew over Ferelden and the Free Marches, roaring her supremecy to the skies above and the land below. She was freedom embodied, powerful, graceful and beautiful, and she swelled with joy and pride as living creatures cowered as the shadow of her wings swept over the land. She swept over the Tower of Kirkwall, and she let loose a jettison of flame at the templars on the roof, roaring in glee as they flailed in pain and panic.

She banked hard to her right as a bolt of bright red magic flew past her, barely missing her wing. She snaked her head around, roaring her anger from parted jaws, wicked fangs glittering in malice, her aqua eyes narrowed- who would DARE? A single figure stood on the roof, brandishing a staff at her. She couldn't discern a race or gender- all she saw was desperation and power rippling around them. She roared again and sent another blast of fire at her challenger. How dare this tiny thing challenge her, ruin her destruction of the templars! The fire swirled around the figure, but didn't set it aflame. She roared in anger, and blind with frustration, she failed to see the bolt of blood rushing at her throat. She shrieked her rage to the skies as the bolt curled around her, slicing her neck, and snaking to her wings, shredding them.

She screamed in pain and panic as she fell, and she reclaimed her human form. The figure above her screamed her name, reaching for her, realizing too late that they knew her, even though they remained a mystery to her eyes; she still saw no face, nothing that told her even the gender of her attacker that now felt agony at her downfall. She tried to assume her dragon form again, but the wings weren't renewed. The blood magic had ruined them- she would never fly again. She screamed in fear, confusion and pain as the sea below her seemed to rise up angrily to claim her, to swallow her up. It was rising, and it would cover her up entirely. She took a deep breath, thinking to herself that it was the figure's fault... and she would be back to haunt them- after she was done drowning, unable to move after bleeding out from her shredded wings. She tried to take another deep breath as the water closed in around her, as though it would make the level of the water go down enough to help her get out.

Everything burned in agony before turning black as she let out one final gurgling scream.

Mai woke with a scream, and found she was curled up in her mother's arms. Leandra rocked her daughter back and forth, humming softly to calm her. After years of not getting along with her mother, after the fight they'd had where Leandra had blamed Bethany's death on her, she was there for her. Mai broke down into tears, burying her face in her mother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as her mother's presence broke down her defenses. She sobbed in fear of what the dream could have meant. She sobbed in fear for what the dream could have been foretelling. Most of all, she sobbed from a mixture of desperation that she would never fly like she did in her dream, and in the horror of dreaming her own death- a death that seemed real to her, real in a sense that she had glimpsed what could happen. The dream was a warning, but who was it warning her against? She continued sobbing, clinging to her mother.

"I know, baby, I miss her, too," Leandra said, her own voice choked with sorrow as she smoothed Mai's hair.

Mai didn't have the heart to tell her mother that her tears weren't inspired by mourning for Bethany.

"No."

"No? What do you mean, 'No?' I've killed ogres, surely that qualifies me for a spot in your team! I bet half of your team hasn't even SEEN a hurlock, let alone fight one!" Mai said in exasperation to the dwarf as she walked alongside him. Bartrand Tethras glowered at her venomously, stopping in mid-stride to fold his arms over his chest.

"Unless you brought back a piece of the sodding Archdemon, I mean NO. I have enough lackeys looking for a free handout by offering to bash their weapon against shit. What makes you think I need two more humans flouting around?" he asked in irritation. Mai stopped him before he could reach his office door and encased her hand in blue healing magic, then released it and conjured a fireball. The dwarf didn't look impressed, but she didn't lose momentum.

"I'm not a lackey with a sword and board," she said evenly. "I'm a mage who could heal your expedition, provide magic to light paths, and enough firepower- literally- to set small crowds aflame. Surely you could use the help of an apostate- something tells me you don't have a surplus of those lying about."

Bartrand snorted derisively.

"Woman, over half my party is made up of dwarves- we're immune to your healing magic, and while we wouldn't get burned by your fire should it go awry, I'm not keen on bringing a firecracker underground- not to mention I'm not sure I want to bring the wrath of the templars on my head. You're trying to escape them, aren't you?" He asked, eyeing her. Mai scowled.

"For your information, I'm Fereldan, and the templars don't know I'm here. I'd like to avoid them knowing about me, but I'm not using your expedition to do so. I want to join for a shot at money to make a new life- I'm not asking for a huge cut, I just want to make something to get me the fuck out of Lowtown," she said honestly.

"You and every uprooted dog lord in this festering hole," he countered. He opened the door and pointed her out. "Find another meal ticket, Sparky. Come back and bother me about this again and I'll turn you in to Meredith herself."

Mai strode from his office, trying not to look upset by smoothing the front of her tunic. Carver looked up from where he was leaning against a pillar, lifting a brow at her frustrated face.

"He said no," he said, stating the obvious.

"He said no," she repeated.

Carver made a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a snort, and threw up his arms resignedly. The two began moving through Hightown back towards Lowtown dejectedly. Mai sighed and ran her fingers through her umber brown hair, frowning as the unfamiliar locks fell in her eyes. After a year of working with Meeran, the mercenary hadn't been keen on letting his pet apostate go, and hinted that she would regret leaving the Red Iron. Mai had been worried that she would be tracked down by his lackeys and dragged to the Gallows to fill Meeran's pockets, so she had changed her hair color with a simple spell that she learned in an odd store tucked in a back corner between Dark Town and Lowtown. The store had been full of alarming and interesting artifacts- one of which was a spellbook that had taught her to change small aspects of her appearance. She'd used them to change her honey blonde hair to a soft umber, and she though she couldn't bear to change the color of her eyes, she had slimmed her jaw and removed the bright pink scar from her nose that had made her stand out. Mai stopped fussing with her hair and looked at Carver seriously as he made an angry sound again.

"That was our best shot, you should have let me handle it!" Carver said angrily. "I bet you waved your magic around and-"

"SHUSH, Carver!" She hissed, looking to see if the templar nearby had heard, but he was chatting animatedly with a guard- which gave her an idea. She turned on her heel and headed for the Keep, Carver nearly falling over himself to turn and catch up.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.

"To see Aveline. Maybe she has some bounties we can do," she replied. Carver brightened immediately.

"Great idea! Maybe I can try applying for the guard again!"

A young man with bright orange red hair ran into them, and Mai made a small sound of annoyance- which turned into a snarl of anger as she realized the man had made off with her purse.

"Get the hell back here, you sodding bastard!" She screeched, taking off after him.

Carver bolted after him, leaping over a bench. Mai nearly ran into a woman in full glinting armor- she shouted her apologies and kept going, glad she wasn't wearing robes- leaping over benches and nearly running into people was a mite easier with breeches and a tunic. The woman lifted a blonde brow, her sharp grey eyes following the scene, but she did nothing, shaking her head and continuing along her path, ignoring the chase behind her. The thief didn't make it far- a bolt went flying from nowhere and pinned the man to a wall by the shoulder. Mai and Carver stopped, blinking, and a dwarf strolled from around a corner, shouldering a fine looking crossbow. His eyes scrutinized the thief and he snatched the purse from him, shaking his head.

"I once knew a guy who could rob you blind just by sweet talkin' you. You... you're an amateur compared to him. Hightown may not be your gig, buddy. I suggest you go back to Lowtown and work on your skills there before you get a firm talkin' to," he drawled, pulling the arrow out.

The thief fled without a word, and the dwarf shook his head, snickering, before turning to Mai and Carver as they ran over to him. He cocked his head and grinned winningly at them both, tossing Mai's purse back to her. Mai peered inside. They only had two sovereigns to their name, and thankfully, all their money was still in the small leather pouch. She flicked her eyes to the dwarf.

"Thank you, Ser," she said.

"Ser? Huh. Fereldan," he replied. Mai shrugged.

"Still not used to 'Serah', and 'Messere'. I liike 'Ser' better," she countered. The dwarf shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, as I don't want you callin' me 'Ser'. Name's Varric. Varric Tethras," he said cordially. Mai blinked.

"As in... relation to Bartrand?" She asked incredulously as she took in Varric's appearance- the man was wearing a loose open fronted tunic, a large leather duster, and breeches tucked into leather boots. Unlike most dwarves, he was clean shaven, and had longer blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He laughed at her expression, and the sun glinted on the earrings in her ears as he tilted his head back. Mai couldn't see how this man could possibly be related to the impossible man that had kicked her out of his office.

"Aye. The uptight bastard is my brother."

"Uptight, indeed. Doesn't even want the cheap help of someone like myself," she replied sourly. Varric's eyes glinted.

"You know, we don't need hirelings. We do, however, need a partner- someone to invest in the expedition and help fund it. We're still short on funds to get it off the ground," he said slyly. Mai narrowed her eyes.

"Always a catch," she said smoothly, making him grin.

"Indeed. Fifty sovereigns would be the perfect deal breaker to fund the expedition and get your foot in the door."

"Fifty sovereigns?" Carver barked in outrage. "If we 'ad that kind of coin, we wouldn't be scraping the bottom of the barrel, lookin' for crap jobs!"

"As crude as it was put, Carver's right. We wouldn't be trying to get in on the gig if we had that kind of coin," Mai said, cocking her head. Varric shrugged.

"I've always had an ear for rumors that lead to good paying jobs- rumors that tell me you're an apostate, and worked for Meeran," he said carefully, his voice low. Mai jerked back, hissing.

"Does everyone in Kirkwall know I'm a mage? Maker's breath!" She moaned softly. Carver scowled and Varric held up his hands.

"The templars don't know, or you'd have been taken to the Tower by now, right?" He asked. "Isn't that all that matters?"

Mai rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing.

"You're right, of course. I just...argh. Come on Carver, we need to head to the Keep," she said, nodding at Varric. "It was nice meeting you."

"If you want my help with any jobs here and there around the city, I'm more than happy to help- we would be partners, after all," he said. Mai cocked her head and smiled.

"I'd like that. Thank you, Varric," she said. Varric cracked a winning grin.

"Let's go take the city by storm, shall we?"