"The life of an apostate is never easy. In constant danger from not only demons, but from their fellow man as well. They can never truly live in freedom, never live life the way it was meant to be. But one mage, one apostate managed to change that forever. My… friend, the famed Champion of Kirkwall. This is her story. It has been told, time and time again, but each time is farther from the truth. And this is what I speak, the truth. So gather around all of those who would listen, for this is a tale you are all familiar with. Told like you have never heard before…

It was amazing, how the sun shone in the morning. Sunlight danced across the water of the river next to their homestead. A simple sigh, so full of content and pure simple bliss passed through her barely chapped lips. A one Miss Marian Hawke sat upon the roof of her family's home, climbed up through means her mother surely wouldn't approve of. Apparently levitating yourself on to the roof is a bad idea, or so Mother would scold. Of course she was right, an apostate floating around would create quite a commotion.

A breeze so light tugged at her raven locks, in such desperate need of a trim. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she smiled as she watched the sun finish rising. She wished that everyone could have seen it, that all of those who claimed that Ferelden was so brown and mucky, that when the sun was just right, the world glowed. The golden wheat that swayed in the breeze, the water the colour of jewels, the rolling hills… it was all so beautiful.

Yet her mind not only thought of the beauty of nature, but on the beauty of a certain lay sister in Lothering's chantry. While apostates were hunted in the name of the chantry, Marian went there to pray every afternoon. Not because she was that religious, nor because she wanted to repent whatever sins she may have committed, but so she could see Sister Leliana one more time. Miss Hawke's infatuation with her began when she first laid eyes upon her. Lustrous red hair, lithe figure, and the way she spoke captured her heart. So she would visit whenever she could, talked to Leliana almost every day. Listened to her stories, for she always had the best stories. Even her sister, Bethany, loved the stories she told.

For two years her heart yearned for her, but when she finally mustered the courage to ask Leliana for a day alone together, in a way so awkward she was surprised when her cheek was kissed softly by her. But Leliana's smile afterwards was somber, saying that she felt something was going to happen soon. She had said that the blight was coming, she felt it, and that she would need to play her own part in it. So she left poor Hawke standing alone in the chantry, heartbroken and teary-eyed.

That was the day before, and she finally understood. Word came through, mainly from the lips of refuges, that the army had been slain at Ostagar. And not three days later, the famed Loghain Mac Tir came through Lothering, requesting the Bann's troops to make up for what was lost at Ostagar. Then he simply left, the Bann and his troops in tow.

Then it was less then a week after that, when rumour spread that two surviving Grey Wardens had arrived. Marian had rushed to town to catch a glimpse of them, for in the tales she heard from Leliana, they were renowned for their honour and bravery. But when she saw them, covered in blood from slaying bandits on the highway, she was less than impressed. Their armor was ragged, torn and scratched, their weapons might as well of been broken. Led by a woman, obviously of royal blood, judged from the way she carried herself and followed by a man, handsome and strong, and a woman dressed in what barely could be called rags. All with a faithful mabari that never left the leader's side.

They were nearing the chantry when she caught up to them, stopping them with a simple question. Did anyone survive, Marian asked. The leader's eyes darted away, her face fallen. When the man answered, he answered simply.

"We do not know."

With a single tear sliding down her face, Marian hugged swiftly and let out a soft sob into his armor. Tentative hands rested high on her back, reassuring words whispered in kindness. He said his name was Alistair and a Gray Warden and that he wished he knew more, but that he would try and set things right. And standing up as high as she could, she pressed her lips to his cheek and whispered thanks.

His face turned scarlet as she walked away sullenly, and she barely caught the words that came from the group.

"Oh Alistair, don't tell me that was your first kiss!" said with playful venom.

"Fine, I won't tell you."

She heard no more as she went further away, heading towards the tavern.

Polishing off the last of the little copper she had brought, she ordered her fifth and last ale. She had been in the little tavern for over an hour, wallowing in depression and alcohol. The only comfort she had, other than the growing loss of thought due to being very, very drunk, was the fact Leliana came and talked with her for just a moment. Offering words of comfort didn't mean much at this point, Carver was more than likely dead, the dinner of something that wasn't natural.

There was a small ruckus behind them, an argument between the Gray Wardens who had just entered the tavern and a small band of Regent Loghain's men. The tension was rising when Leliana went over to calm the situation. Unsurprisingly, it was a fruitless task, as the argument quickly turned into a bloody scuffle. Some of the men didn't have time to draw their blades before being struck, with Leliana pulling a small dagger out of seemingly nowhere and joining the fray. The Warden, whose name she hadn't known, knocked one of the men into the bar top next to her when he rammed her shield into his gut. He was about to get up, but was swiftly put down by a mug shattering over his head, courtesy of Hawke.

The leader of the pathetic bunch of Loghain's men surrendered, pleading for his life. And they were let go, to take a message to their commander, that they knew everything. They ran, nearly breaking the hinges off the door as they barreled through it. What she heard next nearly broke her heart again, as Leliana asked if they were indeed Grey Wardens, and when they confirmed it, she asked if she could come with them.

They accepted.

She had cried for two days. When she finally stumbled home that night in a drunken stupor, her mother had scolded her and Bethany worried. And then she laid in bed and didn't move.

She simply couldn't go on. Her unrequited love had left for dangers unknown, without so much as a goodbye. Her brother was dead. She couldn't believe he would be alive. A Blight was on its way. She really hoped she would just cease to be.

Her thought went to the lay sister she had fallen for once more. She never knew she could fight like that, so quick and silent … so lethal. She almost couldn't believe it. But she had come from somewhere, she would never say where. But Hawke could only guess that it must have been a hard life. The days they talked for hours on end, simply enjoying the company, she never mentioned much of her old life. Hawke fell in love with her, because Leliana was just something indescribable. No words could do her justice in Marian's mind.

No one knew about the event that broke her heart, for she never told her mother or her sister. But she had a feeling her mother knew, just because a mother always knows. And she was always so close to her sister, she figured she'd catch on sooner or later. All Marian could think of was how stupid she was, falling for someone she hardly knew. For someone who couldn't love her back.

All she could was continue to cry.

It had been nine days since Leliana left with the Wardens. Eighteen days since the massacre at Ostagar. And today was the day the door of the Hawke home burst open with a flourish.

In stumbled Carver, bruised and bloodied, gasping in the early morning air. Bethany almost bowled him over in a hug as her mother burst into tears of joy. Marian just stood close and smiled sadly.

But Carver said there was no time for rest, as he pointed to the smoke billowing just a short distance away. Lothering was burning, and it was the Blight itself.

So they had ran, so far and so fast that their bodies began to ache. Somehow the darkspawn were always one step behind them, always around the next bend. They must've been more than a few miles away now, for the smoke in the distance began to shrink. Stopping for a moment, just a moment, they had to figure out where to go from there.

They would go to Kirkwall.

None of the Hawke's, except for Mother, thought that Kirkwall was a good idea, for it was too far, with too many templars. But, as their mother had told them, her side of the family was highly regarded in Kirkwall, with an estate to move in to. The Amells were powerful, and could protect them from the Templars.

They didn't have much of a choice. And Marian just really didn't give a damn anymore.

Rushing further along the ridge, they stumbled upon a templar and his wife, a red-headed beauty of strength. Luckily the wife, who was introduced as Aveline, calmed down her templar husband when they had approached. Seems like the Maker had a impeccable sense of humour and timing. They had bonded together, for more blades were always welcome, after the templar, a Ser Wesley, gave his word to keep distance away from Bethany. Somehow, they ended up heading south, for north was blocked and to the south lay the darkspawn. Their only hope was to curve around after going south and avoid the main body of the horde.

Many more darkspawn confronted them on their path, littered with the corpses of foolish refugee's who had tried to evade them, many whilst carrying chests of their belongings. The smoke from Lothering seemed to grow darker in the distance, perhaps it was the last stand that had been taken and fell. Who knows, it was behind them now. Behind all of them but one.

Marian was growing weak, her healing magic drained her terribly, but it was what was keeping them from falling in battle. Both of the Hawke sisters knew more healing than destructive magic, something that they had promised their father, Maker rest his soul. As the last of the skin knitted together, Marian was the first to enter the clearing ahead, Mother not a step behind.

The ground began to shake.

The air split with a deafening roar.

From the south side an ogre came into view, sprinting headlong into the clearing. It looked around in bloodlust, eyeing for a target. And its lifeless eyes came to rest over Mother. Both Bethany and Carver were yelling from behind, attacking relentlessly to get the ogre's attention. But on it marched, towards Marian and Mother.

A fire sizzled in Marian's eyes, as the air began to crackle, as her hand was consumed in flames. She could not feel it, as the soot coated her hands, and as she released a storm of flames into the ogre's face. The temperature rose, but it was useless. Swiftly it grabbed her, just as quickly slamming her to the ground and held her in near-death in front of it. The ogre's lifeless eye's stared deep into Marian's near-lifeless ones, its face charred and scarred from her final attack.

Suddenly she was dropped as Carver's blade pierced the neck of the beast. She fell to the blood-soaked ground in a lump of bruised and broken flesh and bone, as her brother dealt the killing blow to the ogre. Bethany was at her side in an instant, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried desperately to fix what was broken.

Marian Hawke saw what she thought was those familiar red tresses as her eyes fell shut, but that was only her blood.

A/N Something I felt I had to write. If you notice any errors with spelling, please tell me. All the terms from the game get quite confusing after a while.