"You can't honestly expect us to just leave, brother."

"Brother please, we need to fight with you!"

"Garrett, please. We need to stay together."

Garrett listened to the pleas of his family as they stared at him with desperate eyes. The tallest male of the brood glanced at his brother, Carver, little sister, Bethany, and finally his mother, Leandra Hawke. Crossing his arms over his chest with a dismayed frown, he let out a sigh. "I'm not letting you have any choice in the matter. You must leave before the Blight comes to Lothering."

Leandra's gazed upon her eldest child with a mix between sadness and grief, wiping at them as they filled to the brim with tears. "Garrett, we cannot leave you. Where will you go?" She asked, frowning slightly.

"I'm going to go to the Chantry and help other refugees as they flee. Afterwards I will go to Denerim and find work there." Garrett explained carefully. Of course, that wasn't the truth. A few days ago, he'd spoken to one of the Lay Sisters, a young woman named Leliana. She'd explained that when the Wardens who'd survived Ostagar arrived- and some had, she'd be going with them whether they wanted her to or not. Apparently, "The Maker has told me to do what I must, and I must help end the Blight at the Warden's side." While those were her exact, slightly preposterous words, he had decided doing so would be good as well. Which led him to where they were now, with Garrett trying to get his family to flee to Kirkwall so he could stay assured that they were all safe.

His mother said nothing, although Carver did. Bethany looked reluctant to speak up, but Carver on the other hand was ready to say something. "If you stay, I'm coming too!"

"No, you're not!" Garrett snapped, short temper getting the best of him and eyes blazing with determination. "Carver, from now on it's your duty to take care of Bethany and Mother, whether you want to stay or not. I refuse to let you have a choice in the matter."

Carver looked stunned at those words, and promptly shut up. Leandra had already turned back to their farmhouse to pack up what few belongings they had remaining after giving most of their supplies to the Chantry to help whoever came through running from the Blight. It seemed she'd accepted their fate, although begrudgingly.

Carver bit his lip, running a hand through tousled black hair, blue eyes watching his siblings carefully before carefully nodding to his older brother and walking after his Mother to help set up. Bethany, on the other hand, watched Garrett with sad eyes. She suddenly lunged forward, eyes wet with flowing tears. She looked up at the man, pecking his cheek in a sign of care. "I hope this is for the best, Brother."

"As do I, Bethany. As do I." As his sister turned away, he noticed that her dark red bandana had been placed in his hand. Gripping it tightly, Garrett could only hope that fate was merciful for once in their lives.


The next morning, bright and early, Garrett watched as his family left their small town and farm with quiet goodbyes and a difficult separation from their Father's grave. Wiping a tear away and turning towards town, he strode towards the house and climbed down into the cellar, approaching the well-hidden chest behind a collection of old crates. Wiping the dust away, Garrett pulled out a worn key. He unlocked the container quickly, and gazed fondly upon the old belongings inside before removing them.

First came a set of enchanted daggers, curved and wicked-looking but dull. They'd belonged to the Hawke family line, kept by Malcolm Hawke and locked up. Since Malcolm had been a mage and never used them, they had been planned to be given to Garrett. But their Father had died too early to give the set to him properly. Setting the blades aside, he pulled out their scabbards as well and then a set of armor.

Chipped and worn down by time, built by Dwarven smiths in Ferelden and bought in Hightown of Kirkwall, Malcolm had purchased the armor, entitled "Arms of River Dane," hoping to impress Leandra, even if (being a mage) they'd never make any practical use to him. As a rogue, however, Garrett thought that perhaps this would help. With fur linings on top of leather and chainmail beneath that, the armor was a spectacular sight to see. The white sleeves were enchanted with magic runes, explaining the darker outline. Greater attacks were improved as well, apparently, giving the wearer a chance to get in critical hits.

Finally came the Hawke family crest. It wasn't much to look at, but Garrett would wear it anyways as a sign of respect and honor to his line and the past. It took him a good hour to equip and adjust, but when he was finished, Garrett went towards the tavern, anticipating the wait that approached. Before he left, however, he let out a whistle. A large black mabari bounded up, barking loudly, tongue lolling out of it's mouth. Garrett smiled at the animal and continued on his way, hound at his side.


Two men in dark armor and the crest of the Mac'Tir army on their backs had been asking around all day. Garrett found it to be quite irritating, honestly. They'd finally given up after pestering him for a good half hour, and retreated to the bar to drown themselves in ale until they either passed out or something showed up.

Or in the case that occurred late into that evening, waiting until someone showed up. The person in question was a tall man, (even taller than Garrett, who was taller than most men) with dark brown hair that stood straight up, accompanied with stubble. Behind him stood a scantily clad woman, a mabari hound, and a warrior in splintmail armor. An odd ensemble, to say the least.

The men from before straightened. "Oi, weren't we just lookin' for a man o' the same description earlier today?" The darker skinned one asked, and the other nodded.

"Looks like 'im."

The taller warrior from earlier looked mildly surprised, raising his arms in protest. "Now, now, I'm sure this can all end peacefully, yes?" He gave a charming smile, although it seemed the soldiers were having none of it.

It was then that Leliana stepped in, chantry robes swaying slightly. "Surely gentlemen, there is no need to fight."

"I'd suggest you stay out of this, Sister." Said one of the soldiers, and as he spoke more men appeared in armor seemingly out of nowhere, hands on the pommels of their blades. It was then that Garrett stepped in, smirking wryly.

"If it's a fight you want, then a fight you shall get!" He declared, and then the tavern burst into chaos. The woman from earlier with such a small amount of clothes cast a spell, turning both of the soldiers in front of them to ice. Leliana let out a battlecry and turned to deflect an attack from one of the men.

Garrett didn't have much time to observe, but it seemed that the Warden- that was what Garrett assumed the tall man was –had shattered one of the soldiers encased in ice to pieces, leaving the other to thaw. His allies were doing their best to fight off the other enemies, blades swinging and spells causing an uproar as patrons hid behind counters and tables.

The battle was over as soon as the dark skinned soldier was defeated. The Warden looked upon the man with cold blue eyes, and Garrett felt a slight pity for whoever went up against the man, even as the Hawke moved to stand next to Leliana, who'd wiped the blood off her face and sheathed her dagger.

"I want you to take a message to Loghain," The Warden said in a callous and arrogant tone.

"Yes, yes- anything! I'll tell him right away!"

"Some of us survived Ostagar. We know what he did."

The Soldier nodded and gathered what remained of his men before running out of the tavern, fear shaking him to the core. Garrett chuckled, and in this moment it seemed Leliana took up the opportunity to introduce herself.

"I am Leliana! You will be fighting the Darkspawn, yes?" She asked, motioning for Garrett to stand beside her. He patted his side and his mabari pounced after, barking happily. The Warden looked suspicious.

"Yes, but I don't see why that's any of your business. Where did a sister of the Chantry learn to fight like that anyways?" He questioned, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Many of us led much more colorful lives before coming to the Chantry. Anyways, since you've affirmed what I suspected, I'd like to let you know that my friend and I are coming along." The redhead gestured to Garrett and he gave a prize-winning smile, winking at the woman in the back of the group, who gave a scowl.

"Why on Thedas would we-?" The Warden began to question.

"The Maker told us to." Leliana said, and Garrett coughed slightly, nodding his head but saying nothing. He decided letting the woman do the talking would be for the best, mostly because all Garrett had to say was normally sarcastic or rude.

"Is this the part where I begin backing away slowly?" The Warden teased, and Leliana pouted.

"I know that my story may seem suspicious, but my friend and I must go with you. It's crucial for you if you want to defeat the Blight."

After a moment of conversing with his party, the Warden stuck out a hand. "Aedan Cousland. A pleasure. Welcome aboard, Leliana, and…?"

"You can call me Hawke." Garrett shook the offered hand and stood back, inwardly smirking. With things going according to plan, he saw no way that things would go bad now. But as the group of six strode out in confidence, Garrett, now simply Hawke, had no idea how wrong he would be.


A/N: Hey readers! Serenity here, or Amell if you'd prefer. This lovely little idea here came to mind earlier today and after a bit of encouraging from a friend, I decided to write it down. This is a new idea and I'm going to slowly flesh it out, but I'm open to any suggestions you may have, either by PMing me or reviewing (which I would greatly appreciate, by the way!) the story. This story may or may not contain pairings later on, which I have not decided.

The status of Hawke's family will be sent through interludes/letters as time goes on and chapter by chapter is posted. For now, 'tis all lovelies! R&R is appreciated, and if anyone is interested in being a Beta, I'd gladly oblige to getting help!