Lost In Paradise

by elmjuniper

"I am Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, but tonight...I am your executioner." Essa Hawke has lost everything and as she ventures down a path of vengeance the city is falling apart around her. Isabela must now mend what she broke when she left, but she's running out of time and if the companions don't find a way to bring Hawke back Kirkwall's fall may push the world to the brink of war.

1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Hawke or any of the other characters you've seen in Dragon Age: Origins or Dragon Age 2 nor do I own any of the environments, names, objects etc that you may recognize from the games. They all belong to the wonderful Bioware. Everything you don't recognize is just a figment of my overly stimulated imagination. ;)

AN: This is a pretty dark, angsty, yet at time humorous story of Essa Hawke at the beginning of Act 3. I kind of felt like all the things Hawke has had to go through by the beginning of Act 3 should have had a larger impact on her than what we got to see in the game. This story will dive deeper into that. I hope you enjoy the story and if you do or have any suggestions, questions etc please leave a review.

~Elmjuniper

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I don't understand why I would return. Why would they even go through the trouble of asking me? I had everything I needed here. I told the sailor who had found me that he could tell them that. Still, here I am on my way back.

PROLOGUE

THE MAN SPUN ON HIS HEELS as the dark hooded figure stepped out from the shadows.

"Hey, you! If you know what's best for you, get out of here," he snarled menacingly, waving his sword demonstratively.

He had spent months scouting this place out, he wasn't going to lose its loot to some sewer urchin. The blasted figure didn't move and the man tried to peer through the black mask covering his opponent's face. Then slowly like the sun rises for a new day the figure lifted its hood and he could see the ice-cold, angry eyes of a young woman stare back at him. He took a step backwards. There was something with those eyes, as blue as lyrium, but as dead and distant as the eyes of a corpse. Fear washed over him. This woman had nothing to lose.

"W-who are you?" He barked trying to mask his fear, but he could feel his voice betraying him.

"I am Hawke," the woman said. Her voice was soft, almost delicate. She paused meeting his eyes as she unsheathed her daggers strapped to her sides. The glowed with the magic they were infused with. Blood magic! Her lips parted once again as she began to speak tough this time the voice cut like the sharp end of a sword's edge. "Champion of Kirkwall, but tonight… I am your executioner."

TO BE CONTINUED…