Night had fallen.

Through the darkness, the campfire burned bright, the flames casting a warm glow on ivory skin. It was late–how late, Hawke did not know–but the Champion of Kirkwall could only stare into the fire's depths, searching for answers. Hoping for whispers.

But nothing ever came.

She rested against a boulder, Anders' head laying in her lap as the mage slumbered on. Her fingers absentmindedly ran through his blonde locks; something was happening, she knew it. Thedas was not the same, and the rift in the sky…and the countless they had encountered through their travels, had been impossible to close. They simply did not have the magic to do such a thing. Even their combined abilities had been useless against the portal which allowed demons into this world.

And then there was Anders; Maker, how she worried about him. Their last dealing with Corypheus had been frightening; she saw exactly how he was effected and ever since, she had feared for him. And what with the rumors of an Archdemon wandering about, part of Hawke wondered if she should remain in hiding anymore.

Anders stirred, mumbling, and repositioned himself slightly. At least he was sleeping, she thought, running her fingers gently through his hair. As time went on, theCalling grew stronger; it took all he had to fight it, to stay beside Hawke in these trying times. And she helped as best as she could; she was no Grey Warden, and she couldn't even fathom the pull it had on him. Once, she saw how it effected him, and once was enough for her to fear what could become of him if he didn't fight. And she couldn't bare to lose him.

Bushes before her shuffled, and Hawke stiffened, her bright eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her staff lay a bit away, and at this moment would be useless, but her power pricked at her fingers, the fire within her heeding her call. Anders stirred in her lap; she did not want to wake him. He had difficulty falling asleep as it was, and to have him slumbering so gently in her lap now…it was a miracle.

"Show yourself," she murmured in a low growl, staring at the place from which the shuffling came. "Or be prepared to have your arse burned." Though she spoke, Anders had not moved, and though her apprehension was great, she could not help but to feel relief that he continued to slumber peacefully.

"I mean no harm!" From the bushed stumbled a dwarven woman, youthful and rather scared at the prospect of confronting two apostate mages. Careful not to trip straight into the fire, the woman caught herself, straightening, picking a twig out of her braided, red hair. Large, green eyes fixed on Hawke, and there was no doubt to the fear that she currently felt. In her left hand was clutched scrolled parchment, lightly worn and slightly crumpled.

"Go on, then" Hawke said, her eyes flashing dangerously, her expression impassive. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ava Corph of the Inquisition," she said in a rushed tone, her hand rubbing the back of her head anxiously. "I come, bearing a message for you…Lilith Hawke?"

Her features lit with surprise, Hawke's brows knitted together, a light frown pouting her lips. "A message for me? From the Inquisition?" News of the Inquisition had not gone unheard of to Hawke; from the explosion at the Conclave, to an elf of Clan Lavellan serving as their leader, Hawke had heard it all. But to receive a message, it was not something Hawke had counted on.

"Yes," the dwarf said, nodding her head vigorously–a little over-the-top, but Hawke couldn't blame her. Nerves seemed to pour from her. "A message from Varric Tethras."

"Varric!" At this point Hawke had nearly yelled in surprise, and as she jolted forward, Anders grunted, eyes flickering open. It took her a moment to realize she had disturbed him, and her gaze flickered down to Anders, who did not look at all grumpy, just confused.

"What's going on, love?" he mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes offhandedly, before blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to the light. Slowly, he rose from her lap, only to lean heavily against her shoulder, eyes finally finding the dwarf. "Who's this?"

"A messenger with word from Varric," she answered, and both she and Anders turned their gaze toward Ava, whose nervous smile had faltered only slightly. "Go on," Hawke continued, expression softening to better ease her tensions. "What is it that that Varric needs?"

"Your help," she answered softly, opening the scroll and glancing upon the writing. "The Grey Wardens have disappeared and…and Corypheus is at large again."

Surprise flickered across her features for a moment, and she found her hand reaching for Anders', just as his reached for hers. Their fingers locked tightly together, and her gaze shifted slowly toward Anders, fear flickering deep within her eyes. Everything suddenly made sense.

"…we need to go to Skyhold…"