*Author's Note: Hi all, I used to be active here on Fanfiction several years ago and am going to attempt to make a return starting with this story here. Hope you like it and feel free to say hi, chat, or give civil and respectful feedback. This is my own take on how the Dragon Age 2 story would have played out based on the early rejected concept of Hawke being a werewolf. I am using the classic werewolf design lore of transforming only under the light of the full moon and otherwise just exploring my own twisted versions of what the gods at Bioware gave us to play with. Thanks for reading.*
9:22 Dragon: The Woods outside of the Village of Lothering
It did not make any sense. Garrett Hawke had explored these woods for years and never before had he seen such a beast. He may have been a mere sixteen years old and the magical heritage flowing in his blood could protect him from anything he would encounter. Or so he thought.
The beast on his heals reminded him of the Mabari War Hounds owned by Mr. Danal The innkeeper had even promised him a puppy from the next litter after Garrett had helped him repair a hole in his roof at Dane's Refuge. It was however, not like any Mabari he had seen. Slate grey fur covered this monster the size of a legendary Golem. Running on all fours but standing like a man when it had first seen him, the beast let out a blood-curdling howl as it gave chase in the moonlight.
Leaping over a fallen tree, the young Hawke tucked and rolled through the dirt as he tossed a desperate fireball back at the creature. He heard a yelp of pain as a result but dared not stop running as the beast continued to crash through the brush, now even angrier than before.
Garrett did not know what would happen if he failed to escape this creature. He was running home, to his family's farm outside of Lothering. Too terrified to think about his mother and younger siblings should he lead this beast home, he ran on. Knowing that his father would protect them. Malcolm Hawke would protect his son, he always had since the first day Garrett had shown his aptitude for magic. From the suspicions of the Templars and the siren calls of demons from the Fade, Malcolm would protect him.
He spared a look back only to see stars as the side of his face struck an errant tree branch. His buckling knees drove him to the ground and the beast was on him, growling and snarling as it lunged with drool-coated teeth bared.
Holding his arms up to protect his face, he felt a flare of white-hot pain erupted from his forearm as the warm sensation of running blood took over with the feeling of fangs sinking into his flesh.
The young Hawke cried out, overtaken by panic as he flailed at the beast, his bursts of magical fire doing little to keep it at bay. All seemed lost for the young man when a ball of fire soared through the trees, striking the monster with the force of a ballista.
"Garrett! Get behind me!" Malcolm Hawke shouted, his grey and maroon robes haphazardly tossed on as he clutched his golden staff topped with a replica of Andraste's crucifix. The robes flapped in the wind like a cloak over his sleep trousers, hardly covering his bare chest. The Hawke patriarch has obviously been raised from his sleep by Garrett's cries.
Scurrying toward his father while nursing the bleeding arm, Garrett marveled at his father's mastery of magic as the apostate spun his staff, tossing bolts of arcane energy at the beast.
"Foul creature, you shall not harm my son!" Malcolm challenged as he called upon the raw force of his will to crush the beast as if a great stone fell upon it from the sky, killing it with a swift and sickening crack.
"Is it dead?" Garrett asked tentatively, clutching his wound as he sat on the ground covered in sweat and dirt
"Yes, you are safe my son," Malcolm leaned over to help him up but grew pale as he saw the wound. "Did the beast bite you, Garrett?"
"Its just a scratch, you don't need to worry," he brushed his father's concern aside, summoning an aura of healing light to stop the bleeding.
"Garrett these woods are dangerous, do you not recognize a werewolf when you see one?" Malcolm pressed on. "Such beasts bare a terrible curse passed on to their victims by even the smallest scratch. No magic can reverse the infection."
Gulping down his fear but visible shaking as Malcolm spoke, Garrett jumped forward and hugged his father tightly. "Dad, what will happen to me?" he asked, certainly scared but trusting that his father would do everything that he could.
"You will be fine my son, you will live out a normal life with a beautiful wife and many children of your own," Malcolm tried to be reassuring yet refusing to sugar coat the situation. He cared for his son but never coddled the boy to shield him from the harsh realities of life. "But once a month, under the full moon, the curse will rise from your blood and take hold. Transforming you into a werewolf until the first rays of dawn."
A man by Fereldan law but still a child at heart, Garrett grew paler still at these words. Malcolm placed a hand on his son's shoulder as they began the trek home. The father watching over his frightened son.
"I've studied werewolves at the Circle of Magi in Kirkwall, many people live with such a curse. The legendary hero Dane was even a werewolf," said Malcolm, attempting to reassure himself as much as Garrett.
"Father, Dane is a legend for killing werewolves, even if he was one. What will people do when they find out? Will they be afraid of me?" asked Garrett, his head hung in shame.
"They're not going to find out, a mage werewolf is the last thing the Templars will want roaming the Hinterlands. We will have to tell your mother though," Malcolm sighed, Leandra would be far more dangerous than any Templar when she learned that Garrett had been out alone after dark. "And Carver and Bethany will need to learn someday, when they are older, but you must never speak of this to anyone else," he took his son by the both shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. "If any villager asks about your scars you must tell them that they are from a normal wolf's bite. That it attacked while you and I were hunting. Can you do that for me, son?"
"Yes father," Garrett nodded.
"Good, we will get through this, son. You just wait and see."