Kirkwall, like nug meat, is an acquired taste. It had its problems even before I got there, but it seems as though my mere presence drew out the worst in people. Luckily for me, I made a few friends to help me combat a horde of crazed fanatics and the odd blood mage. Oh, and a high dragon too.

Varric Tethras is one of them and, frankly, you'd probably be better off reading his account on my life in Kirkwall. He's good with them there words and such like. And, honestly, I hadn't been gone long and I was already starting to miss him. I thought about The Hanged Man and all its drunken glory. I imagined Varric sitting at one of the tables with a pint held tightly in his hand as he waved it around, telling some wild tale about my exploits to whatever drunken lout would listen.

I also thought about Carver. He hadn't been too excited about my involvement in what happened with the Chantry, but it wasn't like I was particularly excited about being involved in it either. In the end...well, I wasn't going to kill the love of my life to satisfy the whims of an angry mob. Even if my little brother was one of them. Even if it meant his promise to never speak to me again so long as Anders still lived.

But I could go down the list of everyone and everything I miss all day. I could probably take up a whole year's worth of nostalgia, if it weren't for the fact I couldn't actually just sit around and take frequent trips down memory lane.

No matter what I say or how I say it, the fact remains: my time in Kirkwall has come to an end. It came to an end the moment I spared Anders' life and decided that I would sooner die by his side out in the wilds than I would another moment in that city without him. With a city so fresh with horror from a civil war, it was clear to me that safety was no longer optional.

Not that I'm a man of many regrets. To be honest, I never thought much of the Circle, even before all of this began. Then again, I also never thought much about running for my life in some godforsaken swamp, so I'm not entirely sure what I think much about has any effect on anything at all. In spite of what I thought about any particular situation, these were things that chose exactly now to cross my mind.

I sometimes wonder if things might have been different had I chosen another path. The Chantry was destroyed, and the Circles were breaking all over Thedas. A rebellion was clear on the horizon, threatening to swallow the world into an undoubtedly bloody war.

Was Anders worth all this toil? I thought as my mud-covered (and filled) boots made a sickening 'squish' into yet another puddle.

The resounding, earth-shatteringly answer was a very pointed, very decided yes. Anders was worth all this including the mud squishes, yet for as little thought I put toward the Circle and marsh-lands, I threw even less into such sappy self-speculation.

My hand grasped a branch as I ripped myself away from my own thoughts, and I used it as leverage to pull my legs out of the mud.

"Sodding, disgusting, sod!" I spat bitterly. This must have been a lovely sight - the Champion of Kirkwall struggling to pull his boot from the mud.

Just as I was about to begin reminiscing about Wounded Coast, my foot was finally jarred free from the ground with a loud noise I could only describe as 'SCLUGH.'

Ugh.

But my victory was short-lived as I realised that while my foot was free, my boot was not. I groaned internally as I reached down and began the relentless game of tug-o'-war with the earth. If I had not been so determined to retrieve that blasted thing, I might have been quick to attack the source of the low chuckle that came from behind me. I scowled to myself as recognition hit me.

"No, no, it's fine," I said loudly. "I'll just stand here and wait to be eaten by some hideous ogre while you laugh at my plight."

"It serves you right," Anders replied, a tone of amusement touching his voice. "I told you not to stray from the path, but what did you say?"

"I said that this was a quicker way and I was right." My indignation knew no bounds, even in the face of defeat.

"Uh-huh. And how long do you suppose you've been trudging away out here?"

"What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of your nagging." Another laugh.

Maker, if Anders wasn't so bloody handsome, I might have taken my other boot off and thrown it right at his undeniably smug face.

Fortunately, the boot did eventually come free, though it did take quite a lot of coaxing and a few promises I don't intend to keep to the Maker. Unfortunately, Anders was correct after all; straying from the path might have actually been quicker, yes, had it not been for the wetted ground determined to eat up anyone who might weigh more than, say, a piece of paper. I suppose this is the price you pay when you decide to run away with your terrorist apostate boyfriend.

"We aren't far," he assured me. Speaking of terrorist apostate boyfriends. Apparently, my face decided to betray my privacy and put my worry on display. I glanced at him and forced my mouth into a confident smile, though I'm sure it looked more like I was pleading him to believe me when I spoke again.

"Of course we aren't! It's only been four days since we last saw signs of civilisation and that turned out to be an abandoned cottage in the wood filled with beetles," I said.

"At least it wasn't filled with Templars - or demons," he replied.

"Touché, though I must say at least demons and Templars provide us with some conversation. You know, before they try to stab or possess us."

"I always forget which one does what," he said. His remark only made my smile widen.

"I think it's the demons that do the stabbing," I said.

"Ah, that's right, and it's Templars that do the possessing!"

Maker, I missed this. Even if we were stuck out in the middle of nowhere with sore legs and wet boots, at least he was smiling again. He was in such a grim disposition so often now I'd nearly forgotten what he looked like when he was happy.

Two days passed before we finally came across signs of life. A cluster of small farm houses squared off by little fences that really shouldn't be able to hold in those giant beasts in their fields and yet persevered in spite of it. We didn't dare approach them at night, though, given the current mood toward mages and all. Instead, we made camp far enough away to keep out of sight without actually losing our view of the homes.

The fire crackled angrily at me as I tossed the hefty branch into the pit, and the action seemed to also earn the ire of my companion.

"Hawke, it won't burn if it's still wet," Anders said, exasperated. I scoffed; it wasn't like we were in danger of losing all source of fire. He could make fire with his hands, for Andraste's sake.

I didn't say that, of course. I did value my life after all.

"I'm going to go see what there is we can eat," I said as I flung my quiver over my shoulder.

"Don't suppose you could find something edible?" he asked, hopefully.

"Are you implying nugs are not edible?"

"No, no...it's just that they're so…"

"Horrible?"

"I was going to say terrible, but I suppose that's the same thing, really."

"Yes, I'll try to find something that isn't tiny and hairless and generally terrible in every way." I laughed and chucked another branch into the fire, earning another exasperated sigh.

Trekking off into the woods was not exactly what I'd call the best way to spend one's evening, but neither was being hungry. I carried my bow by my side, occasionally adjusting the quiver lazily hanging off my shoulder to relieve the pressure caused by the leather straps digging into my skin.

If we were being completely honest with ourselves, we might have admitted that we weren't entirely sure where we were going. Varric's letters alluded to a Seeker trying to hunt me down - and not Anders, apparently - and that seemed enough reason to just keep going. Blindly forward was better than falling back into some trap, anyway.

I ducked quickly before my head got clipped by a low-hanging branch, and I briefly wondered what Antiva was like. Or even Nevarra. Or Tevinter - no, wait, I know what that's like. All blood magey and demony. Maybe Anders would like it there, but I wasn't keen on the strongly worded letter we were sure to receive from Fenris. Orlesians wore weird masks all the time, didn't they? Maybe that's where we need-

Suddenly, I lost my footing and my legs gave slightly as I slid quickly down a small ravine - then a strong, putrid stench dug into my nostrils and assaulted my senses so hard I could taste it. I quickly brought one of my hands up in an effort to ward off the smell, but it was too late. I fought off the dizziness the sudden onslaught of disgust my body was being thrown into as I focused my attention on exactly where the scent was coming from.

"Maker's breath," I cried as my gaze landed on the dismembered corpse of a...man? No, larger than that, and it had..horns? Yes, those were definitely horns and not pigtails on its head.

"What's a Qunari doing here?" The question was directed to no one in particular. I dared to inch closer to the body, holding back the sick that teased the back of my throat while I took in the sight. He had been ripped apart not only by each limb, but also from his stomach and chest. Although I could barely see it, a look of surprise was frozen on his face. Whatever had done this had done it so quickly and viciously the Qunari must barely have had time to register what was happening.

I might have remained there to do a bit more investigating, had it not been for my weak constitution. The stench was so strong and the rot so visible that I found it difficult to remain in its presence any longer than I already had. I looked around, squinting in the dark to make sure I was truly alone. Besides a lone creek, that seemed to be the case. The Qunari was far enough away from the farmland that it was no wonder he'd sat out here rotting so long, but I couldn't help wondering how no one seemed to have come this way with a stream so close by.

With my hand still pressed firmly against my mouth and nose, I had no choice but to get as far away from the corpse as possible. I turned away from it and began my trip back to camp, thankful for putting distance between it and myself.

Unfortunately, the stench still lingered stubbornly in my nostrils.

"Are you sure it was a Qunari?" Anders asked after I'd explained what I saw - and why I didn't come back with food. His expression was a mix of incredulity and consideration.

"Yes," I repeated for maybe the fifth time since he had asked me that same question.

"The horns sort of gave him away, though I suppose it could have just been a very large anthropomorphic bull."

"And it was gutted?" He continued, ignoring my glib remark.

"Not just gutted - ripped apart entirely, Anders. I've never seen anything like it."

He fell quiet as he seemed to be thinking over everything I had just told him. For a moment, I worried that he didn't believe me. Surely he didn't think I was so set on covering up my failure in obtaining dinner that I'd actually lie about something like that? I wasn't as sorry as I should have been for coming back empty-handed, admittedly, but he had to have more faith in me than that.

"Show me," he said. His request didn't exactly surprise me, though I did get a mild sense of dread over it. I had no doubt in Anders' resolve against that terrible smell but I knew my limitations and frankly, the very thought of going back toward the corpse made my stomach flip upside down.

I steeled myself and pushed all the dread out of my mind, sternly reminding my body that I was a grown man. Although I did decide it was perfectly acceptable to bring along the flask of rum from my knapsack.

Somehow, the way back to the corpse felt more dreadful than I had thought it might. That couldn't have been just from the smell of it though - I'd smelled worse, like the sewers in Darktown, or Gamlen's house on a hot summer's day. No, somehow this felt...different. Worse, in a way, than heading into the Deep Roads. At least I knew what was likely awaiting us in the Deep Roads, yet I knew nothing about whatever killed the Qunari.

I could feel the anxiety ball up in my stomach as we got nearer; I clutched my bow tighter, shifted my quiver so that it was easier to grab an arrow. We walked in silence, which I was both thankful and irritated over. Anders appeared to be concentrating as well, and the only sound that accompanied us was the sound of our boots crunching across dried grass and broken twigs.

Yet it occurred to me quite suddenly - something was terribly wrong. There was no stench, and yet I knew without a doubt that this was the exact path I'd taken to the corpse. As we approached the ravine, I could see the marks in the ground where I had slipped and slid all the way down to the corpse. Except…

"Where is it?" Anders asked, stopping just short of the ravine's edge and peering into the dark.

"That's not - it can't be!" I said. I stepped forward and carefully slid down the side of the small gorge. When I reached the bottom, I kicked aside some rocks and leaves, as if I expected the body to be hidden beneath them. I turned around and around, frantically searching the dark as I tried to make sense of what was going on.

"No, it was here," I insisted. "Anders, I know what I saw - Maker, I could TASTE it! Not literally, but...the stench of it..."

"I believe you," he murmured. "But what could anyone possibly gain by hiding a body after it'd been discovered?"

"I don't know but they're going to receive a scolding with my fists if I catch them," I said loudly.

"Well, there's nothing more we can do tonight," he said, standing up and brushing his hands off on the sides of his robes. "We should head back to ca-"

Oh, no, not an abrupt stop mid-sentence. I turned quickly, my bow raised and ready, but my fingers had only just grazed the feathers to my first arrow when I saw the shimmer of a blade placed dangerously close to Anders' neck.

"Drop it, archer," a woman's voice commanded. "And the arrows, and your blades." I did as she said, unwilling to risk losing Anders. After I tossed aside my bow, quiver, and the two blades from my belt, I slowly raised my hands up above my head so that she could see for herself how incredibly disarmed I was.

"There's no need for that," I said, putting on my very friendliest of voices. "Trust me when I say he's not going to hurt you." Hopefully Anders knew that was just a much a plea to her as it was to him.

"I'm no fool - I know a mage when I see one," she snapped. Well, that was going to make this significantly less easy than I was hoping for.

"Yes, that's true, but he's a very nice mage," I said.

"Enough. Why are you and this monster on my land? I demand you tell me at once," she said. I kept my eyes locked onto Anders' neck, watching how carefully he swallowed with the blade pressed gently against his skin.

"We're just passing through and we went looking for something to hunt for food. We have a camp not more than fifty yards away." There was no lying to her, not with Anders' life on the line. I licked my lips and gulped slightly, my mouth suddenly much drier than it had ever been before.

"You're not from around here, then?" she asked. I knew what she meant.

"No - we're from Ferelden," I said.

"Where in Ferelden?"

"Lothering."

"Do you take me for a complete imbecile? Lothering was destroyed during the Blight, nine years ago! Tell me the truth or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Anders' voice suddenly boomed. No, no, no! I could see the cold blue glow begin to enshroud him as Justice began its merciless takeover of his body. The moment her head turned to look at him, I made my move - I scooped up my bow and arrow and fired off a rapid shot, knocking the sword from her hand in time to see Justice advance on her, causing her to stumble back and onto the ground.

"You'll kill me?" Justice bellowed. I shot forward and crawled up the ravine quickly, practically leaping to stand in-between him and the woman.

"Anders, STOP!" I cried. "Take control of yourself before you kill another innocent!"

"INNOCENT?" Justice roared. "She is Templar scum! She stands against us!"

"Because we're trespassers on her land!" I yelled in return. "She's only protecting her own - much like we would protect ourselves! Do not be the monster she expected to find in you, please!"

I'm not sure what triggered it, but whatever I said managed to get through to him. The glow began to fade away, slowly until it was gone entirely. Anders let out a shuddering breath and stumbled back against a tree. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him steady, but instead I turned my attention to the woman still rooted in her spot.

The moon provided enough light to show me she was dark-skinned, with a pretty face and a smaller frame than I thought she had. I suppose from my view below her it might have helped my belief she was some sort of giantess, but that (thankfully) didn't appear to be the case. Her eyes were wide and frantic, wild with fear as she stared in horror at Anders. Black, curly hair looked more unruly than it probably usually was, with a few leaves hanging from the ends around her face.

"So...anyway...hello there," I said, giving a nervous laugh. "Why don't we start again? I'm-"

"Stay away from me!" she shrieked, jerking her head to look at me in terror. I tossed aside my bow once more and held up my hands.

"Yes, alright, there - see? Totally safe!" I said. I waved my hands back and forth slowly, and she watched them with such a trepidation I'm sure she thought I would suddenly produce a fireball and attack her.

"My name is Hawke," I said. "This is Anders. I wasn't lying when I said that we're just passing through. We're heading for-"

"Wait, you're the Champion?" She didn't seem as frightened as she had been a moment ago, and I counted that as progress.

"Oh...so you have heard of me then? All the way out here?"

"Everyone knows who you are. Just like everyone knows who…" her eyes trailed back to Anders. He was still using the tree as support, and I glanced back at him. He refused to meet my gaze.

"It's not what you think," I said, looking back at her. "Please, you mustn't tell anyone we met."

She paused and looked at Anders for a long time, her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared him down. It felt like an eternity passed, with nothing but our breaths to fill the silence, before she finally spoke again. She tore her gaze away from Anders and looked down at the ground in front of her. Then, she stood up and began brushing herself off, her lips thinning as she seemed to carefully consider something.

"My name is Artemis," she said slowly. "You can stay in my home for the night."

Artemis walked with us back to our makeshift camp and watched us closely as we packed our bags. I stomped out the remaining embers from the fire we'd started, and turned in time to see her hand fly to the hilt of her sword as Anders picked up his staff. Either he didn't notice how nervous she was, or he was simply trying very hard to be polite - regardless, he remained silent was we followed her down into the tiny hamlet.

"My father lives there," she said quietly as we passed the first cottage to our right. "He's practically the mayor here, even though we don't really need one. He keeps the farmers and the livestock safe."

"How kind of him," I said, trying not to sound as disinterested as I truly was. My eyes felt heavy as the realisation that I hadn't been able to sleep yet began to nag the back of my mind. I looked at Anders and quietly judged him for being able to stay awake without any apparent ill-effects. Other than almost killing someone, of course.

"This is my house," Artemis said, cutting through my thoughts. There wasn't much to take in - it looked like she had one of the smallest homes in the area, which was saying something given how practical the others seemed to be. My eyebrows raised slightly as I bit back the urge to comment on two grown men not quite fitting into such a tiny home. When she looked to us, I managed to let out an 'ahh' sound and a slow nod, hoping beyond hope it sounded and looked like approval.

The immediate impression of her home was that it was very rustic. Or very quickly thrown together. Or both. While it didn't look like it'd blow down from a gust of wind, it certainly didn't look like the first place I'd go running to in the event of an emergency. Still, I suppose beggars couldn't be choosers, especially given that she could change her mind at any moment,

"You two can sleep on the floor, here," she said, motioning to a patch of a not-quite-as-dirty bit of the ground. "I'll grab you a blanket."

"'A' blanket?" Anders asked, speaking for the first time since he had suppressed Justice. Artemis only stopped for a moment before shooting us a cautious look.

"Everyone knows the Champion ran away with...with you," she said, hesitating only slightly on her choice of words. Both Anders and I knew exactly what most people called him these days. "Amaranthine's not far from here. Sometimes I go and...listen to the minstrels."

I allowed myself a cheeky grin. Varric had told me what the songs had been about and, much to Anders' horror, they had been very romantic. And a little bit naughty. Artemis seemed to catch onto the body language both of us had, with Anders' proverbial feathers puffing up and my own victorious smile, and quickly set about grabbing a spare pillow and a large blanket for the both of us.

"I'll wake you in the morning. My father can't know you're here, or else he'll send word to the Templars," she said.

"Well, we can't have that," I said, shrugging off the knapsack and quiver from my shoulders. "Thanks for putting us up for the night. I know we may not seem it but...we're both grateful for your help."

Artemis eyed me for a moment, as if she was searching for something, until she gave me a curt nod and closed the door to another room. I turned to Anders, wondering if now was perhaps the time to talk to him about what Justice had almost done to our host. But the tired he felt was worn plainly on his face. I remained silent as we both settled onto the ground, throwing the blanket over us both and wrapping my arms around him from behind. For the first time in the past few weeks, I slept soundly that night.