The first time it happens accidentally.

It is summer and you're helping out Leandra in her small garden. The air's heavy with heat and the smell of earth and roses. You prick your finger on a thorn and when you brush some dirt of your face it's replaced by a line of blood across your nose.

Bethany calls it Warpaint and giggles every time she looks at you. Carver shakes his head with an exasperated smile.


This morning – mere hours ago, though it feels like a different life entirely – you'd thought having to leave behind Lothering, the only home you'd ever known was the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

Seeing the ogre strike down your sister, hearing her bones shatter is much, much worse.

Someone screams.

You can't tell whether it's you or Carver or your mother or all three of you together.

Fury and pain burn in your blood as you throw spell after spell at the monster.

Bethany had always admired you magic, had always wanted you to teach her.

Now you wish you had taught her to be more careful and to cast stronger shields instead.

Carver's the one to kill the ogre.

His hands shake and for a moment you think he might drop his blade.

He doesn't.

When he yanks his sword free and turns around his face is carefully blank, his eyes just a little too bright.

Leandra sits with Bethany, lovingly running her fingers through her dark hair. She is whispering empty words of comfort, her voice shaking with tears.

Bethany's eyes are open, staring unseeing into the sky. Her chin's covered in blood, her chest caved in and unmoving. She is so horrible still. She has never been still before, moved and twitched even in her sleep. Now she's still and it's all wrong, Wrong, WRONG!

Carver's gaze is stubbornly fixed at the ground.

You close your baby sister's eyes and carefully wipe her face clean.

Her blood sticks to your hands, too cold and wrong.

"She protected us." You force your voice to be steady. You have to stay strong for you family. "She's a hero."

Leandra chokes on her grief and helpless anger. "I don't want a hero! I want my daughter!"

Carver's shoulders shake, his hands clenched into fists. He still hasn't looked at his twin even once.

You have to stay strong for your family.

Everything's a blur after that.

Darkspawn. A dragon that is a woman. Aveline's hands wrapped so tight around the dagger that her knuckles are stark white and the metal bites her fingers. The pain in her eyes as she brings the weapon down on her husband.

Don't break down.

Stay strong for your family.

Flying. A harbour. The panicking mass of refugees, begging to be let on the ships.

When the world finally snaps back into focus you're on a ship to the Free Marches. To safety.

Caver is holding your trembling hands in his, cleaning the blood and dirt off with a wet rag. He is surprisingly gentle, eyes haunted and wet.

You watch the rag slowly turn red and feel sick.

Bethany's blood is the last thing you and your brother will ever see of her.

Don't break down.

Stay strong for- "Oh Bethany…" Your voice cracks.

Carver's breath hitches.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close.

His next breath comes out as a shaky sob.

You close your eyes and finally allow yourself to cry.

In the distance the Ferelden coast drifts out of sight.


The morning the ship lands in Kirkwall you cut your fingers on Carver's blade.

"For Bethany" you tell him, painting a bloody line across your nose.

He sets his jaw and nods – but just as you turn away you see a sad smile crossing his lips.


Living in Kirkwall feels like you are still on the run.

Wherever you go the ever watchful stares of the Templars makes your skin crawl and the pain and poverty follows your every step. Money is always tight and every day is a struggle.

Gamlen's tiny house is the furthest thing from home. Only at night, when the darkness hides the dirt and the rats and all you can hear is your family breathing and moving in their sleep it feels like you have finally arrived somewhere.

Come morning light you feel like fleeing again.

Your family is falling apart.

Leandra is fading. She's mourning the loss of everything she has lost, stuck in the past and no matter what you do to ease her pain it is never enough.

Carver's more stoic and brash than ever. He wakes up screaming his twins name but won't talk to you about her.

You can't help them and you hate it. You hate feeling so useless. You hate it all.

Bethany would have known what to say to make everyone feel better.

Leaving the house doesn't help.

Lowtown is overflowing with Ferelden refugees reminding you of the home you lost.

Hightown makes you feel like a failure.

Working for Athenril is hard and often clashes with you morals but you don't have a choice.

You hate it all.

The only time you forget your troubles for a while is when Aveline lets you help her.

She has found work with the city guard and does her best to keep you out of trouble at the same time.

She's become a true friend and one of the few constants in your life. She's also the only one talk about Ferelden with.

Aveline understands that you mean more than Lothering when you say home.

You understand it is more than pragmatism when she polishes her shield for longer than necessary.


"It's a memento" you explain to Aveline when she asks on a quiet evening patrol.

The sunset paints Lowtown's dusty roads a dirty red. Like dried blood.

She touches her scarf, a faraway look in her eyes. "I see."


Meeting Varric Tethras is a blessing.

He offers you a goal and his friendship and you are more than happy to accept both. Together you look into a new way for you to join his brother Bartrand's expedition into the Deep Roads. The plan is to make money and to find maps of the ancient tunnel system. And together with the storyteller, your bad-tempered brother and the guardswoman of your trust you start taking small jobs to gather the fifty sovereigns.

One year since your arrival in Kirkwall and things are finally looking up!

The favour you owe Flemeth leads you to meet a Dalish mage called Merril. She reminds you of your sister so much it hurts and you immediately accept her into your little rag tag group.

A lead about a former Grey Warden who might know another way into the Deep Roads takes you to a makeshift clinic in Dark Town. Between dust and dirt and rats Anders heals wounds and helps mages escape Templar persecution. He is the kind of mage our father used to tell you stories about and you can't help but admire him.

On a late night in the Hanged Man, a shady tavern in Lowtown Varric loves, a fight at the bar catches your eye. A woman fights off unwelcome company without spilling a single drop of her drink and by the time she smirks and winks at you, you know you want to meet her.

A job in the Alienage leads you to meet a former slave who hates mages but is willing to trust you after you help him.

One year in Kirkwall and you've found friends who'd kill for you.


"The blood of my enemies!" You laugh at Varric over a game of Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man.

You share a knowing look and a toast to the fallen.


Your nightmares, filled with Darkspawn, burning buildings and flesh and your sister's empty eyes, are getting less frequent.

More than often you wake up in Merril's bed with the small mage curled up beside you, in Ander's clinic with a stray cat staring at you, in an empty guest room of Fenris' mansion even though you remember falling asleep in a different room or at the Hanged Man with Varric, Isabela and a spitting headache. If you fall asleep with Aveline nearby you wake up in your bed in Lowtown.

Long days filled with small jobs and adventures make you tired but you haven't felt this welcome and at home anywhere in years.

You feel like you are finally arriving somewhere and can finally stop running.

Carver found a way to cheer up your mother and it only took breaking into a mansion, knocking around a few guards and stealing your grandfather's last will.

Aveline wasn't pleased but Leandra has finally smiled again.


"A sign of family." You tell Merril, gently painting a blood line over her nose.

She smiles and puts on your face paint.

You know she understands.


You wish you had listened to your mother.

Leandra had begged you to let Carver stay with her in Kirkwall.

Carver had firmly told you not to leave him behind.

You'd thought you owed him that much.

Days later, after endless walks through half-lit caves, spiders and darkspawn, Varric's brother betrays you in. You don't know if there's another way out. You don't know what lays beyond this chamber,

You wish you had listened to your mother.

Along with Varric, Anders and Carver you fight your way through path after path.

Supplies are running low. You finally understand why Anders and Varric hate the Deep Roads, You miss the sun and fresh air. Even Lowtown seems like a Paradise compared to this.

You barely slay the demon that stands between you and the next step of the way, find the promised treasure.

Five more days of running aimlessly through claustrophobic tunnels.

Just a few more days until you can go home. You're running out of food. You have to ration the water.

Just a few more days.

Carver collapses right mid-sentence, looking sick and worn and pale. His eyes are grey and empty.

You wish you had listened to your mother.

It's the blight, Anders says.

You remember Ser Wesley in Ferelden. You remember Aveline having to kill him. You remember her hands around the dagger and the tears on her cheeks.

"I can't lose my brother too! Not after Bethany! Don't do this to me!" You don't know if you're pleading with Carver or the Maker or someone else entirely. Whoever is willing to help.

Carver smiles wryly. "Don't make this about you. This is my moment." His voice is weak.

It's not the Maker but Anders who offers a chance to save him. A Grey Warden post, not too far away.

A chance with a high price.

You can't let your brother die.

But you will still lose him.

By the time you find the Wardens Carver can't stand on his own anymore and every breath is a struggle.

They'll try to save him.

You lose him anyway.

The way home to Kirkwall is too long and not long enough.

You remember the look in Leandra's eyes when Bethany died with every step of the road,

When you reach Gamlen's house you feel sick and weary like never before.

Your mother's excited smile makes it worse.


"For the ones I couldn't save." You whisper, sharing a rare moment of peace with Anders in his clinic.

"For the ones we will save." He answers, handing you a chipped cup of tea.

For a while the warmth and amiable silence chases the demons and ghosts from both your minds.


When you had let your merry band of misfits into your life you had known you would always fight for them.

By that you had not meant talking on the damned Arishok by yourself.

But apparently that is what it came down to.

Amazing.

Varric should write a book about you.

The whole city was in chaos, the Viscount dead and the Qunari were killing everyone who refused to follow their ideals. Isabela had run off with their relict only to return fashionably late.

Mages were not meant to duel huge Qunari warriors on their own.

For your friends you do it anyway.

And if you won, just to faint into Isabela's arms after, no one could blame you.

Isabela owed you a drink for this.


"Reminds me of a lost treasure." You smile wistfully at Isabela, sharing a bottle of stolen wine at the docks. The air tastes like salt, summer and faraway shores.

"The best and worst kind." She smiles at the horizon, where a ship slowly drifts out of sight. "Stays with you forever. Always just out of reach."


Kirkwall is a cruel merchant.

It gives you nothing without charging the highest price.

The way to the city had cost you your sister. A safe home had cost you your brother.

Now it cost you your mother too and you can't remember what you bought with her life.

The Hawke mansion is terrible quiet without Leandra. You can hear Sandal tinkering with his enchantments and Bodahn and Orana's hushed voices from downstairs but your mothers light step and soft voice is missing. All other sounds seem unfamiliar without her.

You had never thought you might someday become an orphan. Even after your father had died your mother had always seemed so…constant. Leandra had always been the one unchanging factor in your life. While Carver and Bethany grew and changed your mother stayed the same. All gentle hands and loving eyes.

Now you can only those eyes as lifeless and tortured.

You want to remember her the way she was before but glimpses of torn wedding dresses and stitches creep into all your memories.

Carver had asked you to take care of Leandra.

You couldn't even keep your last promise to him.

Damn it all.

Later your friends drop by. One by one they offer their condolences.

Isabela quietly reminds you that family is more than blood.

You look at Merril helping Sandal work, Fenris talking to Orana, Anders slipping another Manifesto into one of your books, Aveline and Varric bickering over one thing or another and think maybe she is right.


"An old promise." You explain, watching Fenris throw another one of Danrius' expensive bottles against the wall. Wine and glass scatter across the cold floor.

"May we always fulfil them." He hands you a bottle.

With a sharp smile you aim at the far wall and pull back your arm.


Orsino's dreadful transformation weighs heavy on your mind but there is no time to grieve.

There is just the next step.

The next fight.

The next breath.

Making sure everyone makes it out alive.

You will not lose anyone else!

Somewhere in the Gallows Meredith waits for you. The final obstacle between you and the way out. Between you and freedom.

Maker, you wish Bethany was here.

Leandra…

Blood and Broken bones, the taint and torn wedding dresses haunt your mind every time you let your guard down. The worst nights are the ones where your dreams cross the border between past and present. When Bethany's blood stained face turns into Merril's or Carver, weak and pale form the taint becomes Fenris.

"Hawke!" Varric's familiar voice calls you back to the present.

You turn and –

There they are.

Carver, Aveline, Varric, Merril, Anders, Isabela, Fenris.

Bruised and dirty but wonderfully alive.

Every one of them a line of blood across the nose.

You want to laugh.

You want to cry.

You want to do both.

You settle for a smile. "Let's go!"

You continue your path to freedom, your family right by your side.