3/12/15) Hi readers! I have fine-tuned AND finished!

I am also adding a key in case one of the characters is not to your liking.

Chapters 1-15 are Dragon Age Origins and Awakenings. 16-30 are Dragon Age 2. 31 and higher are Dragon Age Inquisition.

As always, reviews (encouragements and critiques alike) are highly welcome.

000 ... 000

Marian Hawke looked up at the Templars, defiance cold in her eyes as they spat another question at her. Well really, she mused idly in her head, it was the same question with extra sharp-pointy-ness behind it. It was actually getting a bit boring. With a sigh, Marian did her best to wet her mouth and spit at the one in front of her asking questions, noting a bit grimly that it was mostly blood. He noticed as well and laughed even as Hawke turned her head downwards.

"We know you met with an apostate, soldier. Tell us who it was and why you helped them flee."

It was a rational suggestion. Most people would have accepted the deal in an instant. It had probably been a whole day she'd been down here with the gathered Templars, and they definitely weren't being hospitable. She figured they were halfway between the camps where Cailan was gathering the troops and Lothering. Hopefully a day was enough head start. It gave her the little strength to fall back on her normal quips. "You caught me," she managed. "My dog is a powerful blood mage from Tevinter. You know what they say about the bond between mabari and master." She hung her head. With any luck, Carver was already getting mother and Bethany to safety. She prayed to the Maker for that to be the case, otherwise this torture and...what it was leading to...were meaningless.

The Templar raised his hand to strike again when a strong, deep voice ordered "Stop." It wasn't in panic of any kind, but the sheer power behind it made the Templar drop his stance. Marian forced herself to pull up and lift her head to see the new arrival. Mostly, she saw an upset Templar who had the nerve to look sheepish. The other form just barely entered her view when her strength gave out.

Luckily her tormentor was helpful enough to identify the new arrival. "Warden Commander Duncan! What are..?"

"Untie the prisoner."

"But Ser..."

"I said untie her. Now. Or I will tell King Cailan you are hindering Warden business. As of this moment, Marian Hawke is my problem."

The red-head groaned as they released the bonds, partially in relief and partially in fear of this new development. If the Wardens were dispersing the King's justice she was even more buggered. She knew how it looked: she'd deserted the King's army to head towards Lothering and was found meeting in secret with someone who created a barrier in their wake. Magic. To them, that meant apostate. It looked really, really, really BAD. And Commander Duncan was not known for his mercy. Marian determined her best bet was to look non-threatening; that said, it didn't matter much when she was simply allowed to fall in a tumble to the floor. She did try sitting up, but on her own that seemed too hard a task.

Once the Templars left, however, Marian found herself lifted up and helped to a stone bench by the Warden. He sat beside her, neither complaining or commenting when her body slumped against him. Instead he looked her over with a discerning eye. Marian felt uncomfortably reminded of her father when assessing friend versus foe while on the run. It was even more unexpected when he pulled something from his belt and pressed it to her lips.

The taste was familiar. Bethany made healing potions often, and almost instantly Hawke felt her body ease a bit. She spared a look at Duncan, now able to turn her head. He was definitely every bit as advertised and she probably should feel threatened even now. Honestly though, Marian was beyond caring much about threat analysis. Nothing would be worse than torture and death. Well, almost nothing. Perhaps attempting to juggle rodents while reciting Orlesian ballads would be worse. Or having to listen to someone doing so...

Marian forced her mind to stop wandering. Instead, now not as dead-feeling, she managed a remarkably strong "Thanks for that."

The Warden nodded. "I was watching the last few minutes. You remind me of myself a bit," he offered. Marian just gave a light grunt in response, unsure where this was going. "I don't suppose you'd tell me what happened if I was able to get the charges of desertion and harboring an apostate dropped?"

Marian Hawke chuckled, though steel entered her eyes. "That's a good guess." Her own life, or Bethany. It was a trade she didn't mind making. She'd been prepared ever since their father died. "As for desertion...I never planned to leave. Not permanently at least."

He looked at her, with a look that seemed to look through her. Marian was disturbed by that gaze. She tried to straighten under it, so similar it was to her father, only to have her body regret the action. Moving would not be in her immediate future.

"Hawke. Marian Hawke. I can't promise you your freedom, at least not the way you remember it, but...in your eyes I see at least some of the answers you hide. Is it your brother, the one who was with you?"

Warning flashed in her head immediately. He was to close to the nail. "Leave Carver out of this," she warned, surprising even herself by how strong her voice suddenly became.

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that I took the liberty of retrieving your record. You have been very careful to stay in the middle Miss Hawke."

"Maybe I'm just mediocre."

"Your record includes your actions when you were caught," he added. "I'm not an imbecile."

Marian suddenly felt very young and small. It really was disturbing. "Ah. So then." She had nothing else she could say. Of course she had hidden some of her talent, hoping to remain under the watch of the officers as much as deferring to Carver's vanity.

"I was going to head off and hunt an additional recruit. I considered Highever, Orzamar, The Circle...even the Brecilian," he confided. "It seems fate is with me today however. I found you."

"Recruit?" Marian knew her voice was shaking. This sounded like he was giving her a very dangerous out. "Warden Commander I am sure I am confused. I'm Marian Hawke, and I'm currently accused of various forms of treason. Yet your last comment sounded..." She trailed off. Her mother had spoken of the Wardens only once. It was Hawke's understanding they did not ASK, yet here she was being given some semblance of choice.

"Does it sound like I'm recruiting a strong, capable woman who has proven she will stand up for her beliefs into the Wardens? I am." He actually broke a smile. That decided Marian quickly. Besides, it meant living, and she was all for that.

It took several seconds however for the offer and her intended response to it to process. Thus instead of an affirmative, what came out was a snarky, "Andraste's firm little ass!" Horror immediately struck her as she realized what she'd said and who she'd said it in front of. She covered her mouth, letting her brain try to catch up with her. "Not that Andraste had an...I mean, I'm sure she DID have a...and I'm sure it was quite lovely...but I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it. The Chant doesn't talk about it but if she was the Maker's bride surely she was well-formed all over. Including her...ass." Duncan snickered, but quickly recovered the momentary lapse. "So is that a yes?"

"I suppose it is."

And that is how Marian Hawke was conscripted into the order of the Grey Wardens.

000 - scene break - 000

Ostagar was exactly what Marian had anticipated. She deftly avoided meeting Cailan or Loghain, embarrassed and uncertain what either would think of her or the sudden switch into the Grey Wardens that had occurred. Instead she chose to head off to meet the others in camp who shared her fate. She called to mind her directions to the man she was to contact and prepared to speak with him.

"Please tell me you aren't another mage." The strange blonde man looked at her, his nose wrinkled and looking quite put off.

Marian cocked her head. "Do I look like a mage, Warden?" She kept her voice light, and she knew the tips of her mouth were likely curling. "Alistair, yes?"

"How do you... oh, you must be the new recruit. Hawke, wasn't it?"

The two formed a fast friendship, spending far longer talking about nonsense than Marian would deem wise. Alistair continued the work as needed, relaying orders and meeting briefly the other recruits as they arrived. Before long the two wound up passing the kennels, and Marian found herself pulled towards them inexplicably. Alistair followed curiously, watching as she looked at the sick mabari.

"She has Rowlf's coloring," she wondered.

"Rowlf?"

"My brother's hound," Marian explained. "A very sweet thing. No idea how it managed to bond with him."

Alistair continued to watch as she muzzled the poor creature, felt as she bonded with it in the process. Poor thing probably wouldn't last, though, so the imprinting didn't much matter. Marian seemed to sense this as well, though she promised to at least try.

Alistair did find the girl easy to like. Marian Hawke spoke with everyone as equals, regardless how they reacted to her. Even the other two recruits seemed to appreciate her aims to bring the group together before she even realized how closely they would work together. Alistair decided it was time to open up. If she survived initiation, Hawke would someone he might be proud to consider a friend.