Author's Note: This story is currently on hiatus, but I hope to be returning to it soon. In the mean time I hope you enjoy what I have written so far.

Act One

Chapter One

Across the Waking Sea

Paden Hawke stared unblinkingly at the bits of sky she could see through the ship's top hatch. The sails flapped noisily in the breeze, a sound she barely registered anymore after two long, nauseating weeks at sea.

Exhaustion pulled at her, making her feel like she wouldn't even be able to lift her arm if she tried. But she didn't want to try. She wanted to just lie there, limp and unmoving, staring unblinkingly at the square of blue above her. It was easier this way; easier to cope with all that had happened, to ignore the grief and the pain that had befallen her family because of the Blight.

Paden let her eyes wander, turning her head slightly until her gaze fell on her mother sleeping beside the bulkhead a short distance away. Leandra was a proud woman whose hopes and dreams had all been torn apart and scattered on the flaming winds of war. Lothering, their home, had been near the front lines, and was the first to fall after the defeat at Ostagar. They had fled as refugees, running for their lives as darkspawn hounded their every step.

An unbidden tear welled in the corner of Paden's eye and she quickly blinked it away, then hid her face in her arms as she rested them against her bent knees.

Their home wasn't the only thing they had lost, wasn't the only thing they had been forced to leave behind.

Bethany. Her little sister. Paden winced as images flashed across her mind's eye. Her sister's slender body being smashed into the ground by the huge fist of a darkspawn ogre they had encountered in the wilds outside Lothering. Bethany had died instantly, Paden knew that, and it was the only thing that gave her any small measure of comfort. Her sister hadn't suffered.

But why? Why did Bethany have to try to fight the ogre on her own? Why could she not wait for Paden's help, for Carver's help?

Paden lifted her head just enough to look with one eye at her younger brother, also asleep against the bulkhead, their mother's head resting against his shoulder.

Carver had turned inward since Bethany's death, refusing to talk about it. Not that Paden had ever had a very close relationship with her brother. He always seemed to resent her somehow, no matter how often she tried extending the olive branch to him. But she understood that he felt swallowed in the size of her shadow. As a mage, trained by their father, she had been their father's pride and joy, and Paden knew—though she never liked to admit it—that she had also been father's favorite. A fact that was not lost on Carver.

Bethany had also been born with magical talents, which father had tutored her in. But Carver never seemed to resent Bethany. It could have been because she was his twin and they had always had a connection that no one else could share in. But it was probably mostly because father never gave Bethany preference over Carver. No, he had saved all his extra attention for Paden.

But now father was gone, and Bethany was gone. And all those silly rivalries and grudges that had existed since Carver was old enough to understand such things seemed silly and distant—at least to Paden they did. Her brother and her mother were the only people she had left in the world, and she loved them more than life itself. She would do whatever it took to keep them safe, and build a new life for them in Kirkwall.

Kirkwall, the great city state that lay across the Waking Sea from Paden's homeland of Ferelden. Formerly known as the City of Chains, Kirkwall had once been the capital of slave trade for the Tevinter Imperium. But that was centuries ago. The Imperium no longer ruled there, and slave trade was now seen only in dark alleys as underhanded dealings; unpopular, but not illegal.

But it wasn't the slavers that gave Paden pause about living in Kirkwall. No, slavers were not a threat to her. What tied her stomach in knots was the knowledge that Kirkwall was one of the largest headquarters for Templars in the Free Marches. There were more Templars in Kirkwall than in all of Ferelden combined. One of the duties of a Templar was to hunt down apostate mages.

When mother had suggested they seek refuge in Kirkwall, Paden's stomach had done a couple flip flops. She had spent her whole life hiding the fact that she, her father and her sister were illegal mages. It had worked out well for them in Lothering because it was such a small town, and even though it had a chantry, only a few Templars were ever stationed there, and they were easily avoided.

But now they would be surrounded by Templars, ones much more vigilant than those in Lothering most likely. Paden was not afraid for herself or what the Templars might to do her. She had always been afraid for her little sister. And now that Bethany was gone Paden feared for her mother and brother. What would happen to them if she was found out? They would be on the run again. And what if she was captured?

Paden clenched her jaw and shook her head slightly with resolution. She would just have to make sure that would never happen. Mother wanted to come to Kirkwall, the place where she had grown up. They still had family there, and so hopefully a place to stay. It was the only hope they had left; they really had no choice in the end.

—

The cry of seagulls roused Paden from a drowsy state. She stared bleary-eyed up though the top hatch and saw tall cliffs sail past. She swallowed past her parched throat and clutched the mast to pull herself to her feet. She coughed lightly and glanced over at the others.

"I think we're finally here," she said, and then headed for the ladder to the deck.

The cool sea breeze hit her face like a welcome balm, and she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with it. Two weeks in the dank, dark, smelly hold of the ship had started to convince Paden that life had ended, and that eternity would be filled with the endless crashing of waves and the deck swaying under her feet, of the constant threat of her last meal ending up in her lap.

Paden covered her mouth with one hand as she shoved those memories down into the deepest depths of her mind. She took a few more deep breaths of the sea air, feeling her head clear a little more with each one.

The sight before her was not a welcoming one. Having once been the slave trade capital, the seaside approach to Kirkwall had been designed to strike fear into the hearts of arriving slaves, and to this day it gave even seasoned sailors pause.

Great chains bound giant statues of weeping slaves, which flanked both sides of the passage into the harbor. They represented an end to hope, and Paden felt her heart sink at the sight of them.

"Well, isn't this a lovely sight," a voice said from behind her. "Home sweet home?"

Paden glanced at her brother as he came to stand beside her on the deck, but she didn't say anything.

"From Hightown you can't even see the chains," their mother said, coming up on Paden's other side. "Don't worry, this the first and last time you'll likely ever see them."

"How big is the family estate?" Carver asked.

"It's one of the finest in Kirkwall," Leandra answered.

"At least we won't want for anything," Paden said absently. "I hope Uncle Gamlen won't mind our coming."

"The estate is big enough for all of us," Leandra assured, though there was a troubled looked behind her eye. Paden knew that mother's relationship with their uncle was strained at best. Leandra had written to tell Gamlen they were coming, but they had received no response before boarding the ship. They did not know what kind of welcome to expect.

"I'll just be happy to get off this boat," another voice behind Paden said.

Paden glanced over her shoulder and sent a sympathetic smile to Aveline, their somewhat unwilling companion on this journey. They had met Aveline and her husband Wesley on the road out of Lothering, and had helped them defeat a band of darkspawn. But Wesley had been mortally wounded in the attack, and the darkspawn taint had got into his blood. Once that happened there was no chance of recovery. Wesley would have died a very slow and agonizing death. And on the road, with the threat of darkspawn so close, they did not have time to linger.

So Aveline had done the only thing her love for Wesley had allowed her to do. She had taken his dagger, and gazing into his eyes with love, had shoved the blade deep into his heart.

Aveline was a strong woman and proud, and she did not shed tears for Weasley—at least not in the presence of the others. But Paden knew that Aveline's grief was deep, and that her new friend's life had changed from that moment.

Aveline had decided to travel with them to Kirkwall, having no longer a place or a reason to stay in Ferelden. They were one sorry lot as they disembarked the ship in the old Gallows by the docks. All around them fellow passengers were greeted by waiting loved ones. But there was no one waiting for them. No Gamlen.