Prologue

Hawke took off her headscarf, shaking her hair out, slipping out of her steel-toed shoes into her sandals. A colleague beside her poked at the purple bruise growing on Hawke's arm.

"Has the matron been rough on you again?" Joanne teased.

Hawke grinned, stripped down to her bra and underwear as she changed out of the factory's uniform, "Nothing I can't handle. She's tough on me. I prefer getting the stuffing kicked out of me by her than anyone else on the field."

"I don't get you," Joanne smiled pleasantly, buttoning up her own dress, "Pretty girl like you, I'd get myself a nice husband, get out of this joint. Have a beautiful cat to pet and brush my long hair all day."

"I've got three other mouths to feed," Hawke reminded, "I'm sure when you get yourself that nice husband you'll end up having plenty of children too."

Joanne pursed her lips affectionately as Hawke finished dressing and picked up her bag from her locker, "You give my love to them, eh?"

"And mine to your parents," Hawke smiled as she left the locker room. She made it down the stairs, braiding her hair back. As she exited the building, she saw her bus pulling up to the stop and she ran in order to catch it. She could hear one of the supervisors yell at her to stop, but she merely laughed, her legs pumping until she could place her hand on the vehicle. The bus driver shook his head and motioned for her to sit in the back. Other munitions workers who had no one to pick them up were there, many dozing in the pleasant heat of the early summer.

Hawke curled up in the back, pulling a book out of her bag. She only had twenty minutes until her stop and she dared not read at home. Those forty minutes a day were her favourite, and the poetry she read then would stay with her throughout the day. She would sing it almost as a chant as she screwed on the caps of the bombs.

This book she had ordered specially from Denerim, a little shop that specialized in this style. It spoke of violence, sex, love, adventure. It felt real to her.

Too soon, however, she found herself back at her neighbourhood, and she hopped off the bus. Her neighbourhood was one of those developed after the Orlesian war, tiny little houses for those who were quickly starting families after the conflict. They had lived there for about five years, before then, renting apartments as they moved from city to city. But after Malcolm had died…well, they were sick of running. It had been a peaceful death for the wandering apostate, a quick illness that took him with little suffering. But when he was gone, they had just decided to stay in Lothering. Leandra didn't want to leave the house her husband had died in. But she was a proper married woman, she didn't think to find work to support her family. Hawke had been fifteen at the time, the twins just turning thirteen. She managed to keep Carver and Bethany in school, but she dropped out and took the job in the munitions factory. There was a war going on. There was always a war going on somewhere, she wouldn't run out of work. She kept up training on the side, sword fighting, rifle shooting, archery. Just because guns were available didn't mean ammo wasn't expensive. The old skills were always useful and she never knew when she would find herself needing them. Especially lately.

They said it might be a Blight. There had been darkspawn throughout the villages, they had been told. Refugees were pouring into the city daily. There simply wasn't enough room for them all. Hawke would have loved to help, but every penny she had went to keeping her family in their home and food on their table. The twins were graduated now. Bethany was taking a few typist classes, despite Leandra's horror. Carver was a military recruit and damn proud of it. Still, Hawke's was the only income still. She had to keep going. At least until Carver was making a real salary.

She entered her little home, hanging up her shoes and coat. She could smell her mother's cooking, hear Bethany humming as she reviewed her books. Carver would be around somewhere, no doubt posing in his uniform proudly. He seemed to rarely take it off now, much to Hawke's amusement.

"Marian!" Bethany called out, smiling, as Hawke entered the kitchen.

"Hey sweetie," she said, dipping down to hug her sister, "School was good?"

"It was great," she beamed, "I'm up to 60 words per minute. Can you believe it?"

Hawke smiled proudly, "You'd make an excellent secretary, Beth."

Leandra scoffed, her back to them as she stirred the soup on the stove, "Hopefully your sister will never have to work. She's a beautiful young thing, I'm sure she'll get a marriage proposal any day now."

Beth blushed, "Oh, Mom."

Wanting to argue, but resisting, Hawke asked instead, "Where's Carver?"

"He should be home any minute. Maker, they keep them so late these days, they're going to run my little boy right into the ground."

"It's probably a Blight," Hawke replied, slumping into a chair, "And if it is, then he'll need all the training he's going to get. There's getting to be an ammo shortage, we can only build so much so quickly. There's talk of them starting to use chemical weapons now…it's a strange war out there."

"I don't like you working in the factory," Leandra insisted, turning to face them, "It was fine before, but now with Carver having a job, you should really fine something…more suitable for a woman. You're twenty years old, Marian. Its really time for you to find someone, isn't it?"

"Sorry if I was too busy keeping bread on the table," Hawke frowned, "I'm going to go wash up. I'll be back soon."

She wandered down the hallway to the washroom, turning on the radio as she washed her face. There was a propaganda short voiced by the King himself, rallying his people forward and insisting there was no Blight. She scoffed slightly, wiping her face clean with a cloth.

She heard the main door opening and Carver's loud footsteps stomping towards them. She heard Leandra shout at him to take off his shoes, but he seemed to ignore her and ran towards Hawke, just returning to the kitchen.

"Marian," he said, slightly out of breath, "You need to come with me."

"Hmm?" she asked, "What's going on?"

"The horde is coming, just north of here, at Ostagar."

"That ruined piece of land?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "It's not much more than a badly kept up heritage site, isn't it?"

"Apparently the King has a fondness for old legends," he shrugged, "What does it matter? They're calling for every able bodied person to fight. They're even accepting female recruits for the battle."

"They do like to bring us in when they're desperate, don't they," she sneered, "What makes you think I want to go?"

He pulled her aside and away from the other two.

"Marian," he said softly, "You're a warrior. You're not cut out for twisting caps on bombs for the rest of your life. If you prove yourself there, maybe they'll take you on. There's a few women recruits, it wouldn't unheard of. I thought…"

She bowed her head, "Of course. Carver, I'm sorry. Thank you."

"So you'll come with me?" he said a little louder, the other two turning to see.

She nodded, turning to her room to change into pants and a shirt.

She could hear Leandra yelling at Carver and Bethany begging him to stay. When Marian returned, dressed for enlisting, Leandra grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"How dare you do this?" she hissed, tears in her eyes, "You wish to go and break my heart, do it. This is not how a woman behaves, Marian."

"Then I guess I'm not a woman, am I?" Hawke said in challenge, pushing off her arm and exiting the house with Carver. There were transports going through the streets, they could see young men and women wishing their families well as they went into the back of the trucks, being carried off to the front lines.

"Are you okay?" Carver asked.

Hawke lied through her teeth, "Perfect."

oOoOoOo

Hawke was tired as they ran, but she dared not rest her pack on the ground in case she did not have time to pick it up again.

They were still in their combat fatigues when they fled, the packs on their backs carrying ammo and survival supplies. It was still better than Leandra and Bethany who were in their night gowns, shoes hastily thrown on, coats bundled around them.

The summer night was cold as they ran from Lothering. Carver was nearly out of bullets, even after taking some from Hawke's pack. She had a dagger in her boot, but she knew this would be little use against the darkspawn.

Bethany rarely used her powers in public, but what did it matter now? Everyone they knew would soon be dead. They might be too, if they didn't keep running.

Aveline and Wesley had joined them on the path and while Hawke had concerns about the Suit, she knew he wouldn't be turning them into national security now. The CBI had a division just for tracking down rogue mages. Men who came in the middle of the night, tore children from their beds. But Aveline was a good military woman, and Hawke immediately respected her.

They had dispatched with most of the darkspawn easily enough and they slowed down as they reached a clearing, taking turns drinking from the rank water that their canteens held.

The ground shook as an ogre climbed the hill towards them. Bethany tried to shield them with an aura, but the ogre crashed through it and reached out towards Leandra. Carver jumped in front, his bullets ripping through the ogre's shoulder. Hawke heard his gun click and she reached into her sack, trying to find another round to throw to him. But it was too late, and the creature swiped him to the side, his back crashing against a large rock.

Hawke jumped forth, pulling out her rifle to fire and shot the ogre between the eyes. As it faltered and collapsed, she jumped onto its back and using her dagger, pierced it straight through the heart. It moaned as it fell and another round of darkspawn was upon them.

When the threat was over, Wesley was slowly dying on the ground and Carver was growing cold nearby. Aveline held her husband's hand as Leandra ran to Carver, holding his still body in her arms.

"This is your fault," she hissed at Hawke, "You had more ammunition left."

"You tell yourself that if you need to sleep at night," Hawke replied curtly, "We need to get out of here. Carver wouldn't want us pining after him when we need to be getting out of here to…Maker knows where."

"Kirkwall," Leandra said, "If I lost my home, my family, I want to be back in the city, where we have family, where we will be welcomed as nobles."

"That's across the sea," Hawke yelled, "We have almost no coin or possession." She looked over at Bethany who was comforting Aveline, Wesley now dead on the ground.

"Fine," Hawke said softly, "We'll get there. I'll see what I can do."

The darkspawn encroached on them again, and the three who could fight surrounded Leandra, their backs to her as they waited for the darkspawn. Bethany sent out a spell to paralyze them, and they slowed as they grew closer. Aveline took out her bayonet, and looked at Hawke. They nodded to each other and each struck forth, killing what they could as Bethany tried to protect them.

A loud roar went through the air and the darkspawn fled as a dragon flew down, snatching, raking its claws through the slower creatures.

Threat vanished, the dragon transformed into an elegant elder woman, her long dress trailing on the ground as she stepped forth to Hawke, grabbing her chin.

"A recent recruit," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Unless a shaved head is the latest fashion in Ferelden. Amazing that you have survived what many did not."

"I'm tougher than most," Hawke said, pulling herself away, "Why did you save us?"

"I felt like it," the woman said, "And I can help you once again."

"We need to get out of this place safely," Hawke said, "I'll do whatever you want."

"This is a witch!" Leandra cursed, "You'll make deals with demons!"

"We won't get to Kirkwall otherwise," Hawke said softly, "I won't lose anyone else tonight."

"Kirkwall?" the witch laughed, "Now that is a far away place. I can get you to a ship and perhaps you will be clever enough to find passage. But you must do me a favour. When you arrive in Kirkwall, there is someone up in the mountains I need you to seek out. Give her this," the witch handed Hawke an amulet, "That is not too bad a deal with a demon."

Hawke nodded, putting the amulet around her neck, "You have my word."

oOoOoOo

The journey was long, but the four women found themselves on the coast, part of the huddling masses waiting for a space on a cargo ship. Hawke leaned against Aveline's shoulder, half asleep, when they were pushed forward. It was finally their turn to board the ship.

Hawke turned to see Ferelden for one last time. Aveline tugged on her hand to remind her to walk forth.

She came back, smiling at the other woman, and she marched into her future.