Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2 or any of the characters, neither do I earn any money writing these stories.

Author Note: I have to admit that I have no idea yet, where this piece of a story might lead. I have some ideas for a longer story - thus making this a chapter.
It'll depend on my inspiration as well as my time and the feedback and comments. It's just no fun if nobody comments and tell me if they like the stuff or not.
Even if I wrote for myself in the first place - let's face it, when publishing we seek feedback and encouragement.
The actual storyline is a bit darker and it indicates the death of a character but it helped me a good bit to deal with some of my moods. So, I hope you don't expect any cheery fluff this time.

I also have to apologize for typos and the likes since I currently don't have any beta readers. I'll read through it again and again in different times and try to fix the mistakes I find.

Setting: It is post-campaign, with a very good natured M!Mage Gaian Hawke, who sided with the Mages, had his Templar brother return and ensured Anders survival. While the actual playthrough contained a romance, this story will not - at least not at the beginning. However - should I decide to actually write a lot more, it will be an MM or MMM story (no incest though).
Oh, and rated M for my convenience .


"And what will you do when it happens again next time? Hawke can't be around all the time!" Fenris argued as they walked toward the small camp.

"Well, then you'll finally have your chance to slay me. Isn't that what you've wanted all the time? Maybe I should provoke it..." Anders answered annoyed.

"You shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place!" Fenris threw in, throwing down the looted equipment next to the fire.

"Should he have kept that spirit in a walking corpse? Sure – that would really help to calm the public" Merrill joined the conversation. Hawke watched them, listened to their discussion and with every word he lost more and more patience and hope – not mentioning blood.

"The bloodmage siding with the abomination – what a surprise!" Carver yelled

"Oh – an observation from the one who joined the Templars due to low self esteem and not out of conviction" the petite elf responded.
"I thought you would have learned that not everyone is the same – unless you have decided to become another Ser Alrik or just like Meredith."

"It's not the same!"Carver yelled, his head highly red now.

Hawke turned around again, leaving their gained goods at the edge of the camp and walked.


He had reached his breaking point – it was enough. They were battling Templars and misled mages, bounty hunters, slavers and other hired mercenaries – and all that just to survive. And by now – it started even before they reached the camp again – the infighting. It got worse since Carver came back.

Gaian had tried to get along with it, to deal with the constant bickering and arguing but how does one handle the ongoing warlike state between those one loves the most. He had tried everything he could think of – tried to appease them, to discuss, to understand, to stay silent... it was all for naught and his position didn't make it any simpler either.

They were still yelling, Aveline was trying to calm them down. The flickering of the campfire was getting dimmer.

Anders was... well, merged or possessed by a fade spirit. Merrill was bloodmage who had knowingly dealt with an ancient demon. Fenris – the former slave who blamed magic for all evil. And Carver who had defied Hawke, who had rebelled against everything his older brother had ever done or stood for... he had joined the Templar Order.

He thought he could still hear them – or maybe it was just still echoing in his mind. After all, he had heard it every night over the last two weeks.

Hawke was incredibly happy that at least Sebastian wasn't with them anymore or this would have been even worse. Strangely enough, he missed Isabela who had left the group not long ago. "Some business to take care off" she had said. Somehow Hawke doubted that she would be gone for good. He wasn't sure if that really was her reason to leave or if she just got tired of all the fighting. He would have even understood if she had just told him she wanted a break from all this.

He was sure it was silent now, the occasional bird still let out a note or two in the deepest twilight. No more light from the fire flickered through the branches and the remaining glum rays of the disappearing sun would soon follow.

Aveline and Donnic had mentioned that they would like to find a place to stay. Gaian didn't blame them – Aveline had been on the run before and Donnic didn't seem to be the traveling type. He'd be happy if those two would find a suitable place, somewhere they could find back into a normal life.

He stopped for a moment, pressing the hand against his side. The scarf he had stuffed under his robes to suppress the bleeding and to hide it from the others was heavy and soaked and the fact that he began to stumble more often over sticks and stones was a sign that he was getting weaker. He took a deep breath and regretted it right away. It hurt – burnt and what felt like fatigue until now was changing into pain. He continued to walk... maybe there was a good place for him to rest.

Having Aveline and Donnic somewhere would be nice, a place he could visit and always find them. Though, if they actually settled down, maybe even had children... should he go and find them again? The way fate had played him, he would most certainly bring chaos and troubles back into their lives. They didn't deserve that... yet, if Aveline would hear him talk like this, she'd lecture him about making decisions for others.

The sound of water – not a huge river, smaller – a peaceful gurgling. The full moon was on the rise and the light was bright enough for him to see. He changed directions until the water was closer and eventually the trees gave way for a little clearing. There was a little building and when he got closer, the silhouette of a waterwheel appeared. The house wasn't in its best shape anymore – probably abandoned for some years now and yet – no place could be more perfect.


"One of them killed our mother – you almost fell for the lies of another! You lost what was dearest to you and you... I don't even know what to say." Carver threw in, the last bit directed at Anders.

"Maybe so but what of all the others? What of those that defied all demons? What of all those that use their powers to help and safe? Will you throw them down just the same? Would you have supported the 'Tranquil Solution'? That you don't care for me is one thing but would you condemn your brother to that fate?" Anders wanted to know and for the first time they turned around.

"I... no" Carver finally admitted. "Brother... "

"Are you all done? Then you might realize that Hawke has left" Varric finally said. He was preparing his backpack and shouldered Bianca.
"Can't say I blame him. By Andraste's tits – you are unbelievable. Same blighted discussions, same blighted arguments and you don't get anywhere and in the meantime he is doing all he can to keep everyone together and you away from each other's throats. Maker – he deserves better than that. He watched out for each one of us and you... Blight take you all! I'll try to find him!" The camp was silent at once and they all stared at the dwarf and then at the spot Hawke had last been seen.

"He left everything" Aveline had started to look through the things Hawke had dropped off. She picked up different items and eventually turned a few around, looking at them closely. "We should find him quickly" she added with a worried look.

"What's the matter, love?" Her husband Donnic had stepped closer and he took the two shirts and a blanket she gave him. "That's quite a bit of blood."

"It's probably from the mercenaries" Fenris said but Aveline and Donnic shook their heads.

"We fought them outside their camp and none of us would have taken stained equipment – you know that!" Anders responded and was quickly looked for his staff.

Carver was already at the edge of the camp. He had glanced at the bloodstained clothes for a moment and with his back to everyone else he just told them he'd be looking this way. Aveline and Donnic looked at each other knowingly and Merrill had a little smile on her face.


The former owner had not taken everything along and so Gaian Hawke was able to use straw and old sheets to make himself a comfortable little seat. His back was resting against a wooden wall and he was facing the large window, enjoying the moonlight's reflection on the small river. This was a perfect spot. Having made a decision, having found this place – for the first time in weeks, it gave him peace. He had to smile and leaned back, resting his head against the wall as well.

A bird? An owl? Or was it the waterwheel? Tapping... calling... what was that? Lazily, Hawke open his heavy eyes. The moon had moved a good bit over the sky, everything was throwing different shadows now. It seemed as he had dozed off.

"Brother?"

Hawke didn't respond. He sat and waited. Maybe he just imagined it.

"Open the door, brother."

Hawke turned his head a little... he had not imagined it. But had he locked the door? He couldn't remember. Either way, he wasn't in the mood for company.
"Leave me!" When he voiced those words they didn't come out quite the way he wanted to. They were slurred and so he swallowed and voiced them again. "Just leave me be!"

"I can't do that."

A little annoyance stirred in the older brother. This was supposed to be peaceful, a chance to get away from all of it.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" His voice was steady again but it didn't quite carry his emotions. It sounded... monotone. Maybe it was for the better.

"It isn't like you to just leave. We also found blood. I am not an expert but maybe I can help, Gaian." Carver sounded genuinely worried. No resentment, no anger... it was odd.

"I healed it!" Hawke answered. He just wanted his peace again. He'd just have to make sure Carver left or that he stayed out there until it was time.

"Healed yourself, did you? It was the one thing you were never really good at. I bet you still have the scars from your first tries." Hawke rose his head again. It wasn't like Carver to speak to him like that. Maker – they hadn't spoken in years after he had joined the Templars and even after they had been united in the fight against Meredith, they didn't speak much. There was a wall between them – something that had grown and had become stronger over time. Hawke didn't like it but he had lost the strength to tear it down at some point.

"Forgive me for not standing still while you made your name among the Templars." He didn't mean to say that aloud. Hawke bit his lips – what had come over him? He rubbed his face with one hand. Over the years he had seen a lot of things, he had felt regret and sorrow and joy but he had never felt so betrayed as he did the moment he came home from the Deep Roads.

Carver didn't respond right away and Hawke felt regret once more. He never intentionally hurt his little brother – neither by word nor action.

"We never talked about it – not until the fight with the Knight-Commander and even then it was no more than a few words."

Hawke clawed his nails into his skull. Why was Carver so considerate? Why was he so calm? It didn't feel right – it felt different and it gnawed at him.

"There was nothing to say – nothing that wouldn't have caused another fight. Mother eventually made peace with it – she was proud of you and it wasn't my place to interfere." He didn't tell him of a lot of things that had happened – didn't tell him how he had felt in those days and years. And he wouldn't tell him a few things – ever!

"You never held back telling me your thoughts. But you are doing so now." Carver's voice sounded a bit closer. He probably had found a place next to the door or a window. At least he hadn't tried to break down the door yet. But why the hell was he so persistent? Why couldn't he just leave? Hawke felt restless – this was not what he had planned. Didn't he deserve rest? Was it too much to ask to be left alone?

"Talk to me brother."

Why was there a pleading tone in his voice? He never cared about his older brother – at least not in any other way than being resentful.
So why would he waste his breath now. Was it instinct maybe? Did he feel this was a turning point – or rather a point of no return. But as always, he couldn't deny Carver his wish. No matter how much the boy had provoked him, tried to anger him or had simply been an arse, it didn't change his feelings for his little brother. Nothing ever would... at least not for long. And so he made a decision – he would talk and tell him at least a few things that he had never told anyone.

"I really tried, you know? I was just about 18 when father died and you two were 15. I wasn't ready... Maker knows I wasn't ready to be made head of the family. I never wanted it... but he made me promise. 'Whatever you do – keep them safe! Make sure they grow up safe and sound and try to make them happy.' That look in his eyes – a gentle demand that didn't allow failure. And so I tried my best – I consoled mother, looked after you two and tried to keep everyone fed. But I failed at making you happy. Everything I did, everything I said was something you despised. All I did was wrong – I didn't understand it and I still wonder today. I just knew – father would be sad or angry at me – I had failed him.

During that time I had more demons haunting my dreams than ever again. An offer – a quick promise that you'd be happy and taken care of if I would only give myself to them. You have no idea how tempting it sounded. It is true – we are never free of temptation – nobody is. But there was one thing that father taught me – one thing he hammered into my mind for years. Demons cannot be trusted! They are master manipulators, they know your weaknesses, know your deepest desires, your greatest fears and they will use it against you – no exceptions. And once that is done – the road is set. As an abomination – the mage is caged in his transformed body, only able to watch as the demon turns against what he holds dearest.

So there was my choice – protecting the ones I love most, knowing that I'll fail father or to accept a deal – knowing that eventually, at some time, it would consume me and the demon would not hold back from destroying you, Bethany and mother."

Pictures of some of the bloodmages and abominations they had met over the last years filled his thoughts. Some he could almost understand – others had chosen the worst of all motives – lust for power. He couldn't even fathom how many innocents died by the hands of fellow mages who had turned bad. But he – just like many other mages didn't support them, or helped them – instead they had killed most of them.

"I denied them, I pushed them back, fought them over and over again, every demon every night and it was getting easier at some point. After a while you see through their means. You start to see the differences between the real people and the demons taking their forms. And usually – for a short time, the demons try to appeal to you, they try to present themselves in the best light possible, thinking that they will be able to trick you with that. Those short interludes were... they were enjoyable. Of course, eventually they returned to show their true nature."

Bethany was so scared when had her first encounter with a demon. She had screamed and came to him that night, sobbing and he had allowed her to slip under his blankets. Their father had come to check and he knew what had happened. He had nodded at Gaian, signaling him to continue to watch over her. He did - only sometimes whispering comforting words or running his hand through her hair so that she could feel that she wasn't alone. Their father had done the same for him.

She sometimes came to him, instead of their father – they had always been close. And so he tried to give everything their father had taught him, on to her as well. But after father's death he had failed his little sister as well. He had always been afraid to admit it.
Bethany had never been able to embrace her magic as well as he had. Maybe he hadn't watched out for her well enough, maybe he hadn't counter the stupid arguments, stories and speeches of the other children and townsfolk as well as he should have. She was never at peace... and it was his fault.

"I wonder what they'll be showing me now... " a weary smile crossed his lips. He began to feel it – the numbness in his legs and his fingers, the slight headache and dry mouth.

"I'm so very tired, Carver. To justify my mere right of existence, to proof my character every day and to bear the fear- and doubtful looks from strangers and friends alike... it drains me. I know, why not just have myself made tranquil. Loose everything I am, no more fear, no more joy, no more hope, love, sorrow or regrets... a great alternative..." Hawke wasn't able to suppress the trembling in his voice anymore and though the first tears were silent, soon the sobbing would be obvious as well.

"To be who you are – most likely choosing death or to be nothing else than an empty husk... you tell me what you would choose. How many people did you destroy by pressing that brand onto their heads? How many mages rather killed themselves than become... a nothing." He wiped his face clean, tried to dry the tears so he could gaze at the beautiful night again.

"How many times did you take part? How many times did you look away when you comrades went into the rooms of some Circle Mages? How many times did you hear them scream and cry for help? Did it bother you that they never got any? How many times did you wish I would submit – get the brand or be shut up by your friends?" He was almost yelling, a last time the energy surged through his body, the last chance to free himself of some of those thoughts and fears that had eaten away at him over the years.

"We hunted and killed slavers whenever we could – you remember that little brother? What in the Maker's name made you become one yourself?"

It was over – the enthusiasm, the energy was gone, used up and it was getting more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. It wouldn't be long now – even if Carver broke down the door this moment, there would not be much he could do. Peace was just one step away. He swallowed hard. There was something he needed to do – to say, this wasn't the right way to end it.

"I always tried my best. I just wanted to protect you – keep my little brother safe. I know now that you'll manage. I love you Carver – always did and if there is just one good memory you have of me... keep it close. Forget-the-rest..."

The outburst of anger, it was dispersed and there was a mix of regret for having said it at all and an utter relief that he had freed himself of it. But in the end, Carver would know how he felt – that even his betrayal had never curbed his affection.

"What are you talking about?" Was that panic in his voice? Hawke wasn't sure, it wasn't loud enough, or maybe the gurgling of the water was getting louder? He heard the splashing of the water falling from the wheel, heard the regular tapping sound of it too.

"Brother? Gaian, open the damn door!"

Someone was yelling – far away. Was it raining? It sounded like heavy rain drops drumming against the roof and the clear reflections on the water became... blurry. But where were the clouds?


The door... why didn't it break down? Carver threw himself for the fourth time against the wooden gate and finally he heard it splinter.

"Just hold on!" he yelled before he threw himself another time at the gate. The hinges finally gave way and Carver was able to force the door open. What in the Void's name was his brother thinking? Why wasn't he answering? And by the Maker what was he talking about?

It wasn't as dark inside as he thought. Large windows towards the little stream offered plenty of light to enter the house. Still – it took him precious moments to get used to the difference. Once he was a few steps inside, he could already smell it and the panic rushed through him again. The iron scent of blood and he knew, for it to be so strong, it had to be more than just a few drops. He searched calling for his brother again and again, being tricked by silhouettes of old tools and furniture until he finally found him. In just a few steps he was at his older brother's side and knelt down next to him.

"Talk to me – tell me what's wrong?" he muttered under his breath – knowing that he would not get an answer. Gaian Hawke sat motionless against the wooden planks, his eyes almost shut and a sort of relieved expression on his face. His left hand was still clutched to his side and the blood had seeped through his gloveless fingers.

Carver carefully framed his face, shaking him a bit but there was no reaction. But he wouldn't give up now – no matter what had happened before, he was not willing to let his brother go. And so he wrapped his arms around the limp body, picked him up and carried him to the door. He'd find the way back and he'd find a way to bring him back... he had to.

"Anders!" after a good while he began to call for the mage. No matter what had been, no matter what differences there were, if someone could help him, it was Anders.

Sometimes he thought he could hear voices, and for a few moments he stopped. But there was nothing – even if he called for them, there was no response. So he walked on and on, looking out for landmarks he'd recognize. It seemed like half the night until he finally heard something familiar: a low barking.

"Paws? Paws! Come here, boy" he yelled, hoping it really was his brother's Mabari. What had his brother been thinking when he named the poor animal? But anyway, if this wasn't his dog – they'd have a whole new problem. Soon, he could hear breaking branches and panting and only minutes later the large Mabari stood in front of them. He didn't wag his tail, just tilted his head and whined.

"Yes, I know – I need to get him back to the camp and we need Anders. Show me the direction will you? And find that mage." His voice was trembling despite all attempted control. The dog barked once and with a little howl he ran off and Carver followed. Again it seemed like an eternity but knowing that he was on the right path and that Paws would find Anders gave him strength again.

"You're not gone yet" he mumbled as he carried his brother further. "You wouldn't leave like that – you can't." Tears had found their way down his face – it was the first time in many years. Even when their mother died, he hadn't cried. He had been furious that his brother had let it happen – outraged at such injustice but he hadn't cried. Maybe it was because Gaian had always been the outlet for his emotions.
Was it just a selfish thought to want him back? No... he needed him but he needed him because he was all he had left, because he was what always mattered to him.

The light of the fire made its way through the trees, finally signaling Carver that he getting close. He fastened his pace, yet making sure that his brother wasn't thrown around too much. He heard the voices of their friends – hoped Anders was among them.

The last trees, the last branches hitting him in the face before he entered the clearing. They were around him at that very moment, arms reaching out pulling on him and his brother but it only made him clutch on to Gaian tighter.

"You have to let him go, Carver" Aveline's voice reached him deep inside that haze but he shook his head. He wouldn't let him go – it wasn't right. Maybe she had realized that her choice of words was unfortunate.

"Alright, then put him down. We will all look out for him but Anders will need some space." He looked into blurred faces but for a moment his mind cleared. Yes, Anders... he was their only hope.

"Where?" was all Carver could say. He wouldn't put his brother into the dirt. It was too chilly on the ground...

"Just over there, on the blankets" the knight told him and with a soft hand on his shoulder, she showed them to the makeshift bed. Carver complied, he lowered the body in his arms onto the bed and it took gentle force to move him aside. Aveline and Donnic pulled him up and led him a few steps to the side before they directed him onto a tree stump.

Everything seemed so unreal – everyone seemed to move in a slow motion, why weren't they hurrying? He looked around, deep shadows distracting him, the flickering of the fire catching his attention. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

A sudden heavy weight on his leg allowed him to focus for the first time again. Paws had rested his big head on his knee, looking with those loyal eyes at him – and despite what everyone might say about Mabaris still being animals, he was certain he could see the pain in the dog's eyes that he was feeling himself.

"I... I can't..." Anders voice was sharp as bell. "He's gone..." Those words were ringing in his ears and he fixated the mage before he rushed up. He only felt strong hands holding him back, keeping him at a distance from the blond.

"Bring him back" he snarled, never breaking eye contact. "I've seen you do that before. Bring him back!" His voice turned into a growl, something primal and threatening, something nobody had expected of the 'little Hawke'.

"It's been too long, Carver" Merrill tried to explain when Anders couldn't answer. The mage was trembling.

"It has not! He is still here.. I can feel him. You are the bloody mages – you should be able to feel it. Now bring him back!" Carver yelled, rebelling against the two former guards' hold. But Anders didn't move – his eyes shifted between the body before him and the outraged brother some steps away.
"Do something! At least try you bastard! What's that damn spirit good for? He'll know" for once the Templar education seemed to be good for something. No matter what he thought of Anders and his deal with Justice, he was the one who could fix this. He would be the one who could save his brother. But now – the blond was so much in control over his second self that he seemed unable to do what was necessary.

"You useless piece of shit..." Carver barked.

"Don't Carver, that is not helping!" Aveline tried to calm him but she wouldn't succeed, he wouldn't allow her to interfere.

"It's your bloody fault! Your selfish actions – you forced him to act! You forced him to flee! And for what? They should have made you tranquil when they had chance..." When he had said those last words, Anders' head rushed up. It was the first time he looked at Carver directly and he saw familiar hatred.

"You would have saved more people if you had submitted! Maybe even Karl but no... you had to fight that ridiculous battle of yours. Meredith was right – crazy but right" Carver heard Merrill and Aveline argue, trying to calm him down but he couldn't do that. Justice would have to come out – only then would he be able to confirm what Carver felt.

"The brand would have been the better choice for you. How many did you saved that turned bad, huh? How many innocents did you kill? How many Templars lost their valuable lives to you..." he was running out of things to say and Donnic and Aveline started to pull him away. For a moment he thought he saw the blue glow but then it was gone again.

"You're a disgrace! You're not looking for justice, you're just too weak – always relying on someone to do the work for you..." he screamed before he lost the battle of strength against the two trained guards and they dragged him further away. With a loud laugh, he finally saw that he had succeeded though. The blue glow seeped out of Anders and he was getting up, ready to follow Carver and punish him but before he made a step he stopped in his very move.

Just as sudden as Justice had shown himself, he disappeared again and Anders looked after Carver with wide eyes. Even as he was dragged away, Carver couldn't hide a relieved smile.