Hey guys, it's your favorite fangirl...Pandi! I changed my writing style a bit, so I will be discontinuing the first fanfic I did, (Dawn has adopted it, so no worries!) I think you'll like this one a little better. Review Review Review! Thanks again to Dawn for letting me share her account, please read her stories, they are awesome in a basket~!

Noise, the echo that blocks out the world around you. That tiny, inconsequential squeak that resonates in your ears, a crescendo.

This is what hounds my dreams at nightfall.

The cry of my mother as Bethany was brought down against the hillside, her skull cracking like an eggshell the second it met with the rock. Her shining black hair became soaked with her own blood and brain matter, each strand now a ghastly reminder of death.

Every word, every scream, all burned into my memory as sure as scars on skin. This is the noise I hear, the aching desperation of my failure, none the fault of any but I. We weren't able to offer Bethany an apt or proper burial; my younger sister was left in the sea of corpses, most likely devoured by the darkspawn.

That thought proved itself a terror at one blink of an eye.

Images of her body being torn to shreds by territorial beasts raced through my mind's eye. Her once flawless skin marred by thousands of teeth marks and claw indents, all proof of claim.

My fault, my mistake, my miscalculation, her death, everyone's suffering.

Your fault,

My poor Bethany!

Open your eyes darling, please!

Bethany, Bethany, Bethany.

What could I have done differently? What could Carver have done to help?

If only, if only, sang the cat that was lonely.

But when boiled down, there was nothing to do; I was not strong enough to save her, plain, simple. I wasn't fast enough to see the beast charge at mother. I wasn't aware enough to see Bethany try to stop it.

But life is cruel, isn't it? A good stick up the ass never helped a soul, but that doesn't mean there wasn't one up there.

I'm not a cruel woman mind you, but I'm not the nicest person to walk the streets of Kirkwall. I take a job when offered, I help when I can, but I usually don't go out of my way.

But mercy me! I have my reasons and my problems, so mind your own and I'll mind mine. Considering my past, I could have turned out worse. Most would be crazed serial killers; I'm indeed crazed in my own lovely way, but a murderer, no.

I am an apostate, as was my father and sister, but the difference between them and I is that they were never caught.

I was only twelve years old when it happened; we were all living in a small village outside the Wilds, tiny, but well watched by the templars. They saw almost everything that went on there, but not every detail.

I had been sent to collect the nights' bread for mother, father, myself, and the twins. They were only ten, and wanted so badly to come with to the market. Mother vetoed the idea of sending the three of us out, father urged it with gusto, always a topsy-turvy family we were.

I slipped away while they argued, right out the kitchen window. Lucky I didn't tear my dress, I'd thought with a giddy grin, the noise would have me caught.

I didn't see any templars about, and like the foolish child I was, I used an extremely vivid orb of fire to guide my way through the dark spring eve. I saw no harm in it, but I could have saved myself a year of torment had I looked to the path on my right.

There stood a templar, a senior at that. He besmirched the 'squeaky clean' name of all the mage hunters, and sold us to the Tevinter for coin. He saw my magic and immediately subdued me, very straightforwardly I imagine, I was a scrawny child.

I don't remember much of the journey itself, but I was shipped to the Tevinter Imperirum, along with many other slaves to be. Most were blessed with beautiful voices, a pleasing face, and charm. I envisioned us all in chains, being whipped by a man with red eyes and long claws, a monster. But thus were my nightly terrors below the deck of the ship.

When we reached the coasts, we were auctioned off by the sovereign, the highest bidder was rewarded a new worker. Families were tore from each other, children wrenched from their mother's arms. "Fine flesh, fine mage flesh! Nice and young, good and sturdy!"

That was my cue to move up in the queue, to be presented to the buyers. Some whistled, made lecherous remarks about what they would do to me and my 'sturdy' flesh. Tears of outrage welled in my eyes, but I blinked them away as quickly as they could come.

Instead, I spat at them, twisting my restrains as I struggled to cast my magic through the wards.

"Bastards!" I screamed at them all. "You'll burn in hell for eternity for what you've done here! May the demons of the Fade have mercy on you, for the Maker surely won't, you'll all-

I was slapped across my face by the auctioneer; he yanked me by the hair and put a knee to my back to shut me up. I smiled as the blood leaked between my teeth, who would want to buy me if I was damaged goods?

Apparently my former master would.

"One hundred and fifty sovereigns."

Everyone took an intake of breath and turned, that was over the price asked for me, who would want such an…..excitable slave? There was a tall man in silken robes, his hair slicked back and brown. He wore a cocky expression and had eyes that gleamed with a sordid light.

There was an elven boy standing to his left, markings all over his pale body. He had a hardened look to him, eyes that mistrusted, and a scowl cold enough to freeze fire solid.

The man whispered something to the elf and sent him my way.

He handed a bag of gold coins to the auctioneer and took a key from him. The elf had to lean down, for he was taller than me, to undo my restraints.

He looked me over, from my short black hair to my toes. I could see the pity he held for me.

"My name is Fenris." He said sympathetically and deeply. I met his eyes, and saw the pain underlying in those emerald depths. He held out his hand, which was covered in markings, to me.

When I placed mine in it, he winced with a small whimper, but his facial expression did not change. Fenris leaned down to me and brushed the hair from my ear.

"There are many archers along the path we must travel. Should you run, they will not hesitate to kill you."

I scoffed bitterly under my breath.

"Where could I run?"

He squeezed my hand briefly and pulled me toward my buyer. Fenris's hand twitched in mine, filled with anger at this man.

"I am Danarius, but call me 'Master'; can you say that, my little spitfire?"

I kept my mouth firmly shut, my eyes glimmering the mirth of my gall. I hoped he saw my blatant dislike, for I could hold it on my sleeve none the clearer.

"I know you can little one. Tell me your name as I have told you mine." He grinned crookedly, his lips sliding apart from his teeth in a manner most unnerving.

"Hawke."

I felt a sudden pain in my chest, like a burning sensation that went from my insides out. Had something stung me? I looked down and saw no mark upon my torso. Confused, I looked to Fenris, whose eyes were trained on Danarius; he knew what the slaver was doing to me.

And then it became clear.

A mage.

"Now tell me, Hawke, what is my name?"

The burning intensified, prodding me to answer like an obedient slave, but my place held firm. This man would not break me, I would sooner die.

"Da…narius."

The pain gripped at my ribcage, setting my lungs ablaze. I could no longer breathe, perhaps I would suffocate, and my death would not matter, surely.

Fenris released my hand and pushed me behind him, he was valiantly protecting me, in a sense.

"Master Danarius, please, refrain from her punishment." His voice was beseeching, and yet….challenging. "I will teach her the ways of a slave. I am imploring you, ser."

"You could learn a few things from Fenris, dear Hawke."

The elf in question turned to the nobles around us and glowered, his judgment molten with hatred. He gave them his blazing fury, but such compassion to me.

Fenris was on my side.

I awoke to sobs of a most pitiful sort, only to realize that they were in fact my own. I was surprised that Carver and Mother had not woken, the shack was miniature but I suppose sound did not travel well.

I pulled the blankets away from myself, quivering in the morning introduction to the cold. My choice of nightwear could have been thought out a bit more, an oversized fencer's shirt and small clothes did not fight the cold with any amount of effectiveness.

I stepped down from my loft, only to hear a shriek of pain beneath my foot.

"Garebel!" I shriek, tripping clumsily over my mabari, landing hard on the wooden floor, like so many times before. I'd most definitely have a fun time walking around Kirkwall, if my ankle wasn't broken.

"Keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Screw you, Gamlen.

"I work to keep your lazy ass fed."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stroked Garebel's ears as my apology to the shaggy pup. I made sure my blankets were at least on the bed before slipping into the leather of my armor and tightening the straps with a grunt.

I slide my daggers into their sheaths, which crossed over the blades of my shoulders. Walking over to our shared dresser, I opened the top left hand drawer. A single ebony ribbon gleamed up at me with a foreboding gloom; the tie Bethany used for her hair back when she yet lived held such a grim reminder of my failure.

I whispered a quiet prayer as I put my hair into a tail, cascading down my back in a raven colored wave.

I hated it here, in Kirkwall. The sun wasn't bright enough, the people were too numerous, it was too loud, the water wasn't Fereldan. Nothing here was Fereldan.

But there wasn't much I could do about it.

Carver is distant, Mother is disgusted with my scrutiny and value of human life, Gamlen wishes I'd keel over and die, Fenris isn't here.

He was my best friend. I miss Fenris so much

"Enough, Hawke."

There we go, steely face up, and there's our little firebird! Yeah…

Unknown POV

I drank the watered ale of the Hanged Man with a grimace, my fingers trembling around the cup. When would I find her? Did she even remember me? Did she miss me?

Maker I miss her. That short haired girl, with immaculate eyes brighter than any sky I'd seen in my freedom. The one whose smile lifted me to a place of indescribable bliss, who I wanted to hold and protect, just as she had done for me. I know now that she'd no clue the depth of my affections for her, but that mattered not.

I tossed a few bits onto the counter and stormed like a tempest from the tavern, colliding with someone on my way. Why was I angry? When had I become so?

So many questions, where are the answers?

I'd never felt the things she'd given to me, that sense of nirvana, of completion. She hadn't known she was capable of giving that to me, but somehow, I found it in her.

In many various ways, I find it ironic. She was the very essence of my odium; my moral code of mages stated that eventually, she would run to the arms of demons when pushed to it. I refused to even consider this when I saw the saccharine reflection of that girl.

"There is only one chance for you. Take this and go." The way she'd looked up at me, the fear and anguish in her eyes. She began to cry, shaking her head and sobbing with enough force to rack her shoulders. I had placed in her hands a bag of coin I'd managed to build up over the years; it was enough for food, and one boat to Fereldan I'd wager.

Commotion broke out behind us, the slaves' radical sense of freedom was in reach, and they rebelled with force to get it. We had precious little time before the magisters put down the revolt.

"Fenris, you….can't ask me to do this. Come with me, I can keep you safe!" She tried so hard to convince me; she used every ounce of conviction possible. "Please…you're the only person brave enough to look beyond the magic in my veins. Come with me my friend, we could make it." That upset me to hear her say that, but I would take any affection she saw fit to give, I would have faced the world for her then.

"I will be fine." I held her close for a moment, knowing it would be the last I would ever have the chance. She held me tightly in response, and though my markings screamed in objection, I could care not. The next instant held the most heartbreaking moment of my life, and I knew it was pending.

I had pushed her from me in that second, and closed the door behind her, forcing Hawke outside the mansion with no way back in.

'No!' She hit the door from the outside, making it shudder. I could hear her cries of outrage from the other side. 'I-I'll hate you!' Hawke screamed, 'I'll never forgive you if you don't open the door Fenris!'

My heart ached in my chest, wanting to shrivel and die for her. A lump formed in my throat and resisted the notion to dissipate. I would die if she meant what she said.

'I will escape,' I vowed certainly, 'and someday, I'll find you again.' I leaned against the thick door and placed my hand beside my face, feeling that hers was on the other side.

I consoled myself with the notion that it was what was best; there was no other explanation for it, none was to be had.

That memory pained me, the confusion and hurt she threw at me as the door closed. I prayed for the first time that night for her. I hoped with what was left of my soul that she made it safely away, that she would live to see me again.

But the reality has come crashing down on me, crushing my heart as surely as boulders. It has been eight years, six weeks, and two days since I last saw her pure face, heard her laugh. I never lost my optimism until just a few days ago. I thought if I could not find her, perhaps we would meet by chance when the path seemed darkest.

Her light would guide us both should it happen.

Daio POV

Kirkwall seemed….happy today. The nobles aren't as big of a pain as normal, they aren't screaming about a servant bringing home the wrong cloth or shoes or whatever it is they complain about that gives me headaches.

Maybe my luck is turning around a little? Psh, the hell it was, I still live with an ungrateful uncle and work for coin as a mercenary. Depressing thoughts aside, I have a job to do; I still need twenty more sovereigns for the expedition to take flight.

"Hawke, you okay in there?" Varric was tapping his temple with his index finger; his grin was hiding his worry behind a well rehearsed mask of normality. I managed a feeble smile for him as best I could, though it was a bit less than convincing.

None the less, he bothered me no more, pretending to take my smile as explanation. I knew however, that he planned to push the subject later. A fun time that.

"Right, Anders says that there have been some problems up in the Gallows with the mages. Should we check it out?" Varric knew what served best in rewards, naturally I informed him before doing anything remotely close to making a decision.

"Are you kidding me Bird? Working for zealots and skirt-men brings about as much gold as begging!" The dwarf threw his hands in the air. 'They think serving the Maker or helping the fellow man is its own reward. Bullshit!"

I chuckled at that. No doubt Anders would have my head if I didn't check it out sooner or later. The man was simply like that, what with Justice constantly harassing him to help the mages, I couldn't blame him.

I smiled wryly at Varric, pushing my thoughts aside yet again. "Any better leads, Short-Stack?"

He dipped his head like I was finally getting the big picture. "Bout time you asked. As a matter of fact, yeah. My contacts tell me that Meeran sent a letter to your house about some dwarf from Orzammar. I say we check that out, newcomers don't know how much a worker should be paid topside. Lucky us, eh?"

I chewed my finger idly, take advantage, or go home hungry?

"We should find Merrill and Isabela, this sounds too easy." Knowing Daisy and Captain, it could take hours to find them both in the city.

"You take Daisy, I'll find the sailor."

"Brave choice, my friend, meet back here at sundown, then?" Varric nodded half-heartedly before we parted ways.

It would be a fun day indeed.

Unknown POV

Anso had revealed the fact that he'd found someone capable for the trap, a rogue with lengthy pitch hair and dazzling brown eyes akin to caramel. She sounded like a vision; hopefully she held skill in addition to her looks. That would be a dream come to life.

I perched myself in the shadows to the left of the hovel in which was set for my arrival. If worse came to worst, I would intervene as best as possible, however, I would like believe this woman and her group had enough competence to protect themselves.

It was hard to believe that a few factions of men stood between myself and possibly finding Daio once more, I wanted so terribly to find the chest within and gain her whereabouts. I knew I would be captured, but to know she was alive would be worth it.

"Well, isn't this wonderful? A midnight stroll and hunters! Bloody marvelous." I assumed that was voice of the hired hand, from my perch, I could not quite see her face.

The door opened and closed stealthily, barely loud enough for me to register with trained hearing. Very impressive.

There was a hushed command from the inside before commotion broke loose. I wondered to myself if the hunters or the mercenary would emerge the victor of the battle. One can only wish.

I heard a chuckle and the slicing of human flesh; I could almost smell the blood from outside. The situation was being taken care of with efficiency if nothing else.

"There's the door." I turned slightly in the darkness to observe another faction of huntsmen swarm around the Alienage. Luck was certainly not on the woman's region of life tonight.

The mercenaries stepped back outside with barely more than scratches to the face. They'd done well enough without me, though I suppose I could assist somewhat.

I resided in the dimness of the night as I climbed the stairway to the market district of Lowtown. Greeted by yet another band of hunters, I let myself fade into the haze of battle, only faintly aware I'd just severed a man's head, or sliced through their insides.

My anger was spent upon the clash of blades, the agility needed to evade was great. I was death, my blade a scythe, and my eyes merciless. I saw nothing, but felt everything worth feeling.

Emotions ruled king.

"Retreat!"

I wrenched a warrior from his escape and thrust my hand into his stomach, the sensation was unpleasant, but he could not be allowed to leave here alive. None of them could.

He jerked away from me, vomiting a mouthful of blood onto the paved pathway. It was rather sad to see him reduced to such a pitiful sight.

"Cap….tain….." The warrior struggled to stay in this world, but his soul left his body as he fell down a short expanse of stairs. It was sickening to know the leader had yet to be killed, for he stood mere feet in front of me.

"You're men are dead, and your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can."

The mercenaries looked exhausted, but at the same instance, triumphant, how remarkably lucky for them. I saw the woman Anso had described to me, though panting and sweaty, she truly was beautiful. She was staring back at me with tears brimming in her wonderful copper eyes; I was drawn to her, for some reason.

"You are going nowhere, slave."

The Captain clasped my shoulder hostilely, gripping it with enough force to bring me pain, and it did not please me. I turned, murder in my eyes, and punched clear through his chest. I grabbed his heart with my fingers, feeling its last beat, and squeezed it until it burst in my very palm.

He fell dead at my feet in a heap of wasted flesh.

"I am not a slave."

The woman spat at the body, clearly angered at the battle they'd endured, I could see motive in that, well enough.

"I apologize," I said, wiping the blood from my knuckles. "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I'd no idea they'd be so….numerous."

The woman scoffed vaguely, seeming annoyed with my words of apology. She waved off my concern, literally.

"There is no reason I see for regret, this is in fact typical for us." She smiled at me again, filled with warmth and happiness.

Was she crazed? Her companions looked upon me with the interest of scrutinizing a captive animal, yet she seemed unaffected.

"I take it these men were after you, yes?" She continued on with the conversation, in search of why I was hunted so resolutely. And the time for explanation begins, so it seems.

"Correct," I paused my sentence for a breath, "My name is Fenris. Those men were Imperial bounty hunters, seeking to recover a magister's lost property." I rolled my eyes in annoyance with the tale, told oh so many times. "Namely myself. They were trying to lure me into the open, though crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone." My lips turned upward a fraction. "Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

"I am rather glad I killed them then, such vermin deserve their fate. In any way, it's a pleasure to meet you, call me….Bird, for now."

"I have met few in my travels who wish to seek anything other than personal gain." It was the moment of wondrous truth. "If I may ask, what was in the chest, the one they kept in the house?"

"I am sorry, but it was empty."

It was a lie…..how stupid of me to hope for anything more….

"I see, I just…ah, it doesn't matter any longer." My voice was thick and bitter with disappointment. It filled me with sadness and fear of her death to know I could not find Daio.

I searched the Captain's body and found a note, on it was scribbled an address in Hightown. Denarius would be there for certain.

"Just as I suspected, my former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must ask you for your help once more."

'Bird' held up her hand, "Say no more, I am at your service."