Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and I do not stand to profit from it.

A/N: This is in response to the Pro-Templar Mage Challenge set by HostilePlatypus. Thanks for the idea and I hope you like this story.

So, yeah, Issac Hawke is basically a Mage-hating, Pro-Templar mage. I don't know if anyone has done it yet but I simply loved this idea. The story is rated M for language and some scenes later on. There will also be a lot of clashes between Anders and our main character and a tempestuous romance with the lovely Isabella. Anything else you want, please add it in your review. Thank you.

Chapter 1: Shocking news

"It's been a year since we have arrived in Kirkwall and we're still stuck in this hellhole."

The above sentence was said by a very anguished Carver Hawke. The 'hellhole' he was referring to was of course his uncle Gamlen's house. He couldn't stand it anymore. He hated the place, even if it was the only one he could call home in the whole wide city of Kirkwall. Lowtown was crowded and smelly and there wasn't a single street where he could walk comfortably without being accosted by a beggar or some cheap, opportunistic prostitute. He missed Lothering sometimes, its clean fresh air, scenic village vistas and… Not again, thinking about Lothering always brought back memories of her."

"Now, now Carver," said Leandra Hawke, as she cleaned their dinner plates with a dirty dish rag. "Once your brother returns from his expedition in the Deep roads, we'll be rich. We'll have enough money to regain our status and as soon as the viscount hears my petition…"

That did it. His temper had already been stretched thin due to the events of the past few weeks and now he lost it completely. He banged his fist on the table, causing the last two remaining dinner plates to topple down and break, scattering thin, white, porcelain pieces throughout the room. Both mother and son were shocked. Carver couldn't believe what he had done. Mother had been harping on about regaining the lost honor of the Amell's ever since they had arrived in Kirkwall. It seemed to consume every single conversation that she had with him or anyone else. There was simply no end to it.

Then, six weeks ago, his elder brother Issac had gone on an expedition in the Deep roads along with Varric, Fenris and Aveline. Yes, that was right, it had been six weeks! Four weeks at the most, his brother had promised and there was still no sign of him or his three companions. The ones who had arrived after four weeks were the other members of their expedition minus Bartrand. He had questioned them diligently about the whereabouts of the missing five but those efforts had been rendered fruitless.

After the fifth week, his uncle Gamlen had given up hope and started demanding rent. He had even threatened to evict them the day before. His mother of course, was a paragon of endless hope and never tired of expressing her phenomenal faith in her eldest son and how he would turn around their fortunes, as soon as he returned. Whenever that would be, thought Carver. He, however was growing impatient. Where are you Issac? I should have gone with you, even if you said not to. I knew something was going to happen. You're stuck somewhere, aren't you? If only I was there to help. I know mother needs me here but… and his mind descended into the same whirlwind of thoughts it went into everyday.

Leandra's sobs broke the barrage. "I have lost a husband whom I loved and cherished. Lost a daughter who always held me in her highest esteem and the one responsible son I have is missing." She sniffled.

Carver wanted to reach out and soothe her but somehow, he couldn't bring the words to his mouth nor force his legs to move. He stood rooted to the spot, feeling immensely guilty for hurting his mother. He knew she wasn't happy with the state of affairs either, but unlike his stark negativity, her positive attitude had always held the family together.' She was right', he thought. He really was like his father. The old man had always found something or the other to complain about, even on the days when everything went right and in order.

Isabella silently swirled her drink and didn't even pay attention when a smiling, young mage seated himself in the chair opposite her. "Still moping over a missing, tall, dark and handsome mage, Isabella," said Anders when she had finally looked up to meet his gaze.

The vivacious, young pirate was quick to reply, "How can he be missing, when he's right before me," she said.

"As always, quick to flirt the moment a handsome man comes in your radar,' he chuckled. "That's the Isabella I know. Not the one who has been moping around the docks, for the past two weeks."

Isabella quickly took offense at that. "Hey, I haven't been moping. I'm just, just a little put down that's all."

She looked straight into his light brown eyes, "Its been six weeks, Anders. I know that you're as worried as me. Don't pretend"

The mage's face became slightly grimmer. "You're right," he conceded, "but I don't know what do. I tried enquiring among some of my Grey Warden contacts but even they haven't seen or heard anything. And we can't send our own search party into the deep roads. My hands are tied Isabella. There is nothing we can do but wait."

Isabella looked at her drink again, disappointed. As much as she didn't want to believe him, she knew he was right. There was nothing they could do but wait.

"Am I interrupting something?" Both of them looked up, startled at the familiar, deep, masculine voice.

"Ah… my young lover. Of course, you're not interrupting anything. Join us, younger Hawke. Maybe you can help spice things up! I always love a threesome," she winked.

Carver took his place in the last remaining chair at their table. "And what brings you to Hangman's. Another fight with your very accommodating uncle?" asked Anders. Carver had been coming there every other day for the past three weeks.

He looked down at the table. "Actually, I said something very ungentlemanly to my mother. She's upset and I don't have the guts to apologize."

Isabella and Anders looked at each other. They knew about the mounting tension in the Hawke family with one sibling dead and their only earning member missing. Carver's temper had got the better of him. They spent the next half hour enquiring about Carver's problem and gave him a few suggestions.

Two or three drinks later, Anders raised the topic that was foremost on his mind, "Um… Carver, have you tried searching for another job?"Anders knew about Carver's myriad, failed trials at joining the guard.

"Yes,' said Carver. "I have decide to become a templar."

Both his companions did a double take. Isabella didn't know what to say but Anders was worried. "Carver... a templar."

"I know all your views on templars Anders, but its the only other venture that I am seriously considering. I need to take care of my mother. We have no idea when big brother is returning and there is no incoming cash flow in the house. Hope is the only thing we're sustaining on. Besides, Issac wouldn't mind."

Anders sighed. Issac and he could never see eye to eye on the mages versus templar issue. He knew that Carver wanted to please his big brother in every way he could, but still, this was shocking to him.

Carver got up. "I have to leave." he said and walked towards the pub's door, turning the handle and setting himself out into the cold, dark streets of Lowtown.