"Young man, would you show the First Enchanter back to the Circle – gently, if you please?"

Hawke had that look in her eyes, as she did when she wanted to do something that went against her better judgement but was going to do that something all the same. She looked first to Varric, who knew that look very well, and he had a pretty good idea what she was about to do. He sighed and urged her on with a nod – not that she needed his approval, she just preferred to have it. He didn't disagree with her doing it, he just knew that it took a tremendous amount of balls to speak up to the Grand Cleric, not that Hawke hadn't already done so before.

"Your Grace, I—" She took a step forward, looking down at her feet, then at her Holiness.

"Yes, Champion?"

"Your Grace, I would like to escort the First Enchanter myself, should you allow me."

There was a long silence as Elthina looked at her, a bit unsure of how to respond. Not that she distrusted Hawke. She knew she wasn't one to get involved in politics, or pick sides. Only minutes ago she had decided to remain neutral in the argument between Meredith and Orsino. She smiled politely and nodded. "Alright."

"Your Grace, he should be clamped in irons, made an example of—"

"That's enough, Meredith. This… demeans us all, surely you can see that. Go back to the gallows and calm down… like a good girl."

For a moment, it seemed as though the Knight-Commander might snap, but Elthina's calm stare down convinced her it was best to just do as she asked. She turned to leave, stopping to cast a fiery glare at Hawke and her companions before stomping off toward the Gallows. Elthina turned to address the mildly angry mob, "Gentle people of Kirkwall; return to your homes, I implore you. This will not be solved today." She turned back to Hawke and urged her on her way with a nod of her head.

The First Enchanter fell into step with the Champion and allowed time for them to be well out earshot of the Grand Cleric before he spoke up, still not looking at her, "I'm surprised at you, Champion; you're not one to get involved in politics, especially when that means openly opposing the Knight-Commander herself. In public. In front of the Grand Cleric."

"I have to agree with him, Hawke," Aveline added firmly. "Politics are a dangerous game to play in such a position as yourself. I should know. I hope you don't make a habit of this."

Hawke smiled to herself and chuckled inwardly. "I'd hardly label this as getting involved in politics, First Enchanter."

"Yes, but people will begin to think that we've grown close, and that my politics have rubbed off on you."

"Maybe I like your politics," she said, almost to herself. "Have you not met my friend Anders?" Fenris snorted.

"Yes, and, no offence to him, I wish I hadn't. Being seen consorting with a well-known apostate and renegade cannot possibly help my image. It may be alright for you, being an apostate yourself, but me… Your status as Champion might protect you from Meredith, but you forget that not all Mages are as fortunate as yourself." With that, they continued to the Gallows in silence, minus Aveline commenting on the beautiful weather they were having that afternoon.

Once they reached Orsino's office, he unlocked the door and was about to disappear behind it when Hawke stopped him, "Can I speak with you, please? In private?" she added briefly, ignoring a look of warning from the guard captain. He nodded and went in. Before she could follow, Fenris grabbed her wrist and pulled her aside.

"Hawke. I don't think it's wise," he said gruffly, stone-faced.

"Fenris, we've been friends for a very long time, and you know me very well. Just trust me." Hesitantly, Fenris moved aside, letting go of her wrist, and allowed her to pass the threshold into the First Enchanter's office.

Orsino closed the door behind her. "What exactly is this about, Champion?"

Hawke walked over to his desk, then turned to face him, leaning against the hard wood, crossing her arms over her chest. "To be honest, First Enchanter, I'm worried. About you. Not just you, either – the Circle as well. The tighter the Templars squeeze, the more the Mages fight back. The more they fight back, the tighter the Templars squeeze. And quite frankly, I think it's time something was done about this."

His eyes widened and he held a finger to his lips as though to quiet her talk of rebellion. "I don't like it any more than you do, but there's nothing we can do that won't bring about the end of us, or the Circle."

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe we need to bring about the end of the Circle, and Meredith."

"Maker's Breath, not so loud, Champion, lest she hear you. What exactly has your friend Anders been up to, lately?"

Hawke sighed and looked at her feet. "I don't even know, but I'm getting off-track, here. What I mean to say is that everyone has grown sick of Meredith's tyranny. Yes, nothing can be done about it at the moment, as you yourself said. At the moment. This fighting back and these rallies in Hightown are not helping. In fact, it's making things worse. What I'm trying to say is –"

He stepped toward her, his voice raising, anger hinting in his voice. "—That I should sit idly by while Meredith takes control of Kirkwall and destroys us all?"

"The only thing that stands between Meredith and your Mages is you, and you ignoring the open rebellion of your people against her is going to get you all locked up for good, or worse. You're not much help to your apprentices if you're dead, or tranquil. I just want you," she looked up at him, "to be safe."

"And what good is that to my apprentices?" he demanded, still sounding slightly irritated, but his voice considerably softer. Hawke was one of them, after all; a Mage. The only thing keeping her from being stuck in the gallows with him was her money and status. He knew she meant well, but she had no idea what things were like from the inside.

"All of the good in the world," she said, half-laughing. "Don't think I don't know about what you do for them. Don't think I don't talk to them. They adore and idolise me, but you even more so. I spoke with a young man the other day who said that he first came here when he was nine, and he was terrified – had never been away from his parents before. And you – He would come to you at night, and you would give him sweets and read to him to help him sleep. All of your apprentices have stories like that, of your kindness and benevolence, and I honestly can't imagine you doing anything better for them. They're scared, First Enchanter, because everything has changed. You need to be the one thing that hasn't."

The First Enchanter couldn't help but smile at this. Whether it was because of the truth she had spoken, or the passion with which she had spoken it, he couldn't be sure. Stories were often told of Hawke's remarkable bravery, but it was easily forgotten how passionate and caring she could be, despite her best efforts to hide it. "And you, I suppose you help the cause of the people by quietly helping them. That's how you got where are today, is it not?"

Hawke nodded and smiled. "You said people might begin to think that we're close. Anders is kept safe by being my friend. Why aren't we friends? We're similar, we obviously have a tremendous amount of respect for each other, and I like you."

"And I, you. That's why we shouldn't be friends," he said. He approached his desk and took a place leaning next to her. "I'm worried about you, Champion." Hawke looked to the ground and chuckled. "I'd hate to have people think of you as being in on my agenda. I'm never going to be free of this place, don't doom yourself on my account, whatever your reasons."

"I've said it before: I like your politics. Mages deserve to be free – people like you especially."

"Who's going to set a bitter old elf like me free? You, Champion?"

"If I can help it," she replied softly.

"Don't do anything to brash, running with that Anders of yours."

"I won't, as long as Fenris has anything to say about it. I don't know if you've noticed, but he has no sympathy for the Mages and their plight."

"And I don't think that he cares for me very much, either."

"Definitely not. He doesn't approve of my desire to befriend you."

"Another reason not to be friends; he seems like a man not to be crossed, though you seem like the type who doesn't let their friends sway them so easily, I must say. You're a brave woman, Champion. I, however, was never blessed with such a virtue. I admire you, I do, but I cannot allow you to be my friend."

"And yet, you said it yourself; I'm not the type who allows their friends to sway them so easily," she said, adding a wink in for good measure.

Orsino looked up at the ceiling and laughed heartily in response. Very suddenly, his mood shifted from playful to serious. "Champion, I… I really think that you should reconsider your… involvement with Kirkwall. When I said I'm worried about you, I'm serious. If I were you, I'd forget about all of this and just… leave. Get as far away as you possibly can, and take all of your friends with you. Nothing good can come of the situation here. I think that it would be better if you weren't here when it all becomes too much. It's only a matter of time before Meredith loses it."

"With all due respect, First Enchanter, there's no way that that is going to happen. I'm going to be here, and I am going to side with you and the Mages when the time comes for war and see it through till the end and, no matter what you say or do, you can't possibly change that. And you know what? Everything will be just fine." She placed a hand on his shoulder, the kind of gentle, friendly touch one can easily find comfort in, and Orsino was glad for it. Hawke chuckled to lighten the mood once more and he smiled.

"You humble me," he said softly. "You know, you have more faith in me than anyone – myself included. Then you take your misplaced faith in me and turn it into more bravery."

"It's hardly misplaced, First Enchanter. Everyone looks up to you. I'm not the only one. I'm just the only one who's not too caught up in Meredith's politics to be able to admit it. Turn some of that hatred you have for Meredith into love for yourself."

"Oh, believe me, self-love is the only kind I've got," he said, chuckling at his feet.

Hawke immediately burst into a fit of laughter. After a moment she wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to look at him, still beaming from ear to ear, eyes widened in disbelief. "Did you just—?"

He couldn't even look at her, slightly surprised of himself. "I think I did, against my better judgement. I apologize."

"No no, by all means, I won't be the one to judge you," she said, stifling more laughter. "How can you expect me to not want to be your friend and turn around and say something like that?! Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself." They both laughed, afraid to meet the other's gaze, ashamed of their own immature amusement. "Even if you do not want to be friends, I will be here to help you, whenever you need it. Anything to keep Meredith at bay for the time being."

"Funny. Now that you mention it, I have run into a bit of trouble regarding some runaways…"

"Well, I'm here to help."

And Hawke kept her word, doing all she could to help the First Enchanter out every chance she got. She began to side openly with the mages when the opportunity presented itself. More and more often did Meredith threaten to lock her up in the Gallows if she did not cease her relentless rebellion against her and begged her not to bring the fight to her publicly, lest she frighten the people of Kirkwall. Not she would listen. She did it all for Orsino's benefit, so that he could sit safely in his circle, encouraging the rebellion while avoiding the wrath of the Knight-Commander. Hawke was done sitting on the sidelines in this fight. She became the poster-girl of the Mage plight, and most of Kirkwall followed her.

Meredith was absolutely furious. Everyone was waiting for her to snap. Even though the Champion and First Enchanter kept all contact to a minimum, she knew they were plotting against her. After the incident after his rally in Hightown, he'd never been seen with her in public again. Once or twice did he send a messenger to her house, and only once did she visit him the gallows. Still, Meredith knew. Maybe that was what drove her to the edge. Whatever it was, when she finally did snap, and the Templars and Mages began the battle for Kirkwall, it was no surprise to her that Hawke sided with the Mages, taking all of her companions with her, and she knew the fight was already lost.

"I am not giving up, I am giving in."

Hawke knew all too well what would come next. The rest of Orsino's lament hardly reached her; she couldn't be bothered to listen. She forced herself forward, step by step, waiting for him to confirm that her worst nightmare had come true – perhaps her blind faith in him had been misplaced, or maybe there really was no way to win this fight and he knew it. He spoke the words steadily, firmly, though to Hawke they were slow and as though from a faraway dream. "Meredith expects blood magic? Then I will give it to her." As he pulled forth the knife from his robes, Hawke leapt forward, grabbing his wrists and shaking it from his hand.

"First Enchanter, no!" There was moment of stillness. She looked at him, and he looked at her, unsure of what would follow. "D-don't… just…" She could hardly think – hardly breath after what just nearly happened. Her brain was running at a million miles per second when she just barely managed to string together the sentence, "Don't let her win; don't give that bitch the satisfaction."

Despite his best efforts, Orsino felt remarkably weak. He shook just slightly, giving it all he had not to cry. He couldn't even believe himself or what he'd just tried to do. He tried to focus on Hawke and calm down. He tried desperately to remember himself. He could see the look in the eyes of his few remaining apprentices – he had let them down. He was lost to them. He was lost to himself. He tried to focus on Hawke, he needed to remember why he was here. His body relaxed just enough and he allowed his forehead to rest on hers. "I am so sorry, Champion. But I –" Her grip on his wrists tightened.

"I told you I would stand with you no matter what. Mages deserve to be free, and I will see you leave this place free, today, with me," she said softly, feeling him trembling as he fought back the tears. His eyes were shut tightly. His lips moved but no sound came. The silence ate at the room while everyone stood and stared, not knowing what was happening anymore. Hawke's companion's exchanged glances quickly. "Let's take the fight to Meredith. She knows she can't win this fight. You're coming with us, and you are going to help us show her what we are capable of. Now, pull yourself together. You're not yet so old and broken that you can't put up a hell of a good fight. I'm not going without you."

She gave him a moment to put on his bravest face before letting go of his wrists. He stood there, still, their foreheads touching. "You're a great comfort, Champion," he said. "Your eyes, your voice and touch… Bravery and kindness emanate from you, and it's very comforting. I thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here. I… I must seem like a monster."

"Hey." Hawke grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him gently. "You're not a monster, but I've grown tired of your defeatism. Now come on."

"Al-… alright, Champion." He stepped back and looked around at his remaining apprentices, beginning to feel embarrassed. Hawke began to make her way over to her companions. "Meredith has had this coming for a long time, now. Her abuse ends today." His booming voice echoed and faded into cheering and applause. Hawke regarded him over her shoulder briefly, fondly, a smile tugging at her lips. His gaze met hers for a split second, and she could see the change in him. He was ready to fight.

"His spirit is admirable," Fenris said. "Although, I'm still a bit confused as to what it is that I'm doing here." His crushing intimidation was cast into oblivion with a playful smirk thrown her way. "I've been following you around for so long I've begun to follow you blindly."

"Or maybe you've seen through me that not all mages are bad."

"You are not bad, but you are not good, either," he said with a chuckle. "Just don't die out there, Hawke."

"I don't plan on it," she said softly. She stood on tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek, lights flaring up all around them as she did so.

Fenris sighed. "I hate it when you use wards of protection on me." They both laughed.

She moved on to Merrill next. She took her hand in hers and smiled. "Fight hard. Fight smart." She kissed her cheek, too, which had the same magical effect as before.

"In case I don't get the chance later, Hawke… Dareth shiral, friend. May the dread wolf never catch your scent.." Merrill smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek and turned her head in embarrassment.

"Hawke." Aveline's voice was strong as always but utterly transparent. "You are the best friend I've ever had. I'll see you on the other side."

"Same to you, Aveline." Hawke hugged her tightly before she did for her what she did for the others. Next she turned to Isabella, who was looking cocky as ever. "And you."

"Don't give me that crap, Hawke," she laughed. "You can tell me how great I am once all this is over."

"Maker's breath, Rivaini," Hawke exclaimed. "I'm only trying to express my undying love to you." They both grinned and Hawke cast her spell just the same as before.

"Come on sis," Carver called, "the Templars won't wait forever."

"Shut up, Carver," she said as she approached him and kissed him, too. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Hawke moved on to Anders, who was beaming from ear to ear at her. "Are you ready to cut Meredith down to size?" he asked. Hawke nodded and smiled. As she tilted her head up to kiss his cheek, he swooped in and met her lips with his. He brought her in close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She ran her fingers through his hair, the ward flaring up around them as it formed beneath Anders' feet.

They broke away after a moment and there was complete silence until someone spoke up. "If you're still handing out protective wards, I'll have whatever he's having." It was, surprisingly – to everyone but Hawke – Orsino. Hawke stifled her laughter.

"Damn Blondie," Varric said, staring in disbelief. "That took a lot of balls."

"I've only wanted to do that for six years," Anders said breathily. "Figured I might not get another chance."

"You swooped in on me," Hawke said, equally breathily, fanning her face with her hand. "Swooping is bad."

"What? You didn't like it?"

"I didn't say that."

Anders grinned.

"Come on Hawke," Varric sighed, "do your thing. Just don't touch the chest hair. And spare me the tears." Hawke knelt down and hugged him tighter than she'd ever hugged anyone before doing her aforementioned 'thing'. "Good luck out there, Hawke. Not that you need it."

"Have you ever been camping out in the wild, First Enchanter?" Anders asked, passing him a bottle of ale and bowl of some sort of stew comprised of the things one finds in the wild. "You don't seem very comfortable. A bit out of your element, being away from your Circle, maybe?"

"You could say that. I've certainly never been camping out in the wild without provisions, no. And I'm certainly no First Enchanter, now." He took a swig of ale and grimaced, amusing onlookers. "I don't suppose you all do this sort of thing often."

"More often than you'd think."

"Although, I suppose you were a Grey Warden, weren't you?"

"I still am, technically speaking. And Carver," Anders replied grimly. "Even travelling with Hawke can't help that fact, though she's tried. Someday it'll all catch up with me – with both of us."

"Until then," Hawke chimed in, "I've got your back."

"It must be nice to have someone like the Champion to look out for you."

"Orsino, if you're no longer First Enchanter," Hawke began, "I'm no longer Champion. Besides, you ought to know. You're one of us, now."

"Now that all formalities are out the window," Varric said, raising his bottle, "Let's all get shitfaced."

"What do I call you, then?" Orsino asked, smiling at Varric's proposition.

"Well, most people call me Hawke, as you may know. Revka works fine, too. Sebastian called me Revka, sometimes…" She trailed off, staring into the fire, tears forming in her eyes at the thought.

Orsino leaned in next to Varric and asked softly, "Is she alright?"

"Sure. She just gets weepy when she drinks."

"Sebastian… I think I saw you two walking in Hightown on occasion."

"We were friends, yes, good friends. Not anymore. He hates me now."

"That's probably for the best," Anders said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "As much as she cared for him," he added in an aside to the confused Orisino, "there never much else that went on between them. He wasn't exactly the physical type."

"He was the loving type, though," Hawke said, obviously on the verge of breaking down. "A good friend, a confidant, a guide. I think that's what I needed, though. I mean, platonic friendship with a hot, celibate prince works when you're… well, as inexperienced as I am. He was a good friend. I was sorry to see him go."

"Let's stop talking about this," Orsino suggested helpfully, sensing her distress. Hawke thanked him with her eyes.

"Waitwaitwait." Varric jumped out of his seat. "You're a virgin?"

"No, I'm not saying that. It's just been… well, quite a while. Many years, actually. I'm quite out of practice, really." Hawke looked around at the faces gathered around the fire and wiped her eyes. "Is that so wrong?"

"Yes!" Isabella exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Although, now that you mention it… that explains why you're so grumpy all the time. We need to get you laid, old girl."

"Hawke, would you like to join me in my tent, later?" Anders asked, only half-jokingly.

"That makes us having to actually share a tent a lot more awkward," Hawke said. "Anyone want to switch?" Everyone laughed. "No, seriously."

Silence.

"Ouch," Anders grumbled.

"I'm not sharing," Fenris offered. "Everyone… passed on the idea."

"Good. You'll protect me from the evil Anders, won't you?"

"And the evil blood mages," Fenris added, looking at Merrill and then Orsino, his gaze lingering just slightly on the latter. For all he knew, Orsino could no longer be trusted. Not that he'd really trusted him before. He'd already been pushed to the edge; who's to say it wouldn't happen again? As if being a Mage wasn't bad enough, he was a Blood Mage in the making, not to mention that Hawke had some strange sort of fascination with him. He wasn't jealous. He was worried. For her safety. He didn't want to see Hawke's nearly virgin blood spilled anytime soon.

Hawke, who'd already begun the process of scooting away from Anders a while ago, reached as far as she could scoot along the log and settled in next to Orsino. Fenris got up and filled in the space between Hawke and Anders, settling Hawke's anxiety for good. She felt secure. Although, perhaps the anxiety had been a fabrication of the alcohol she was drinking. "Look, I'm a sandwich and the bread is elves." She giggled, and hiccupped.

"How much have you had to drink, Hawke?" Varric asked in disbelief.

"Enough," Fenris assumed, taking the bottle from her hand and taking a swig of it himself. "Although I think she has the right idea." A mumbling of agreement circled around the fire.

"I refuse to drink until I can celebrate the safe coming of my husband," Aveline said firmly.

Everyone groaned in response. Isabella leaned over and touched her shoulder. "Enough of that. He'll be fine, Aveline. Cut loose. We're celebrating the fall of the evil Meredith."

"I don't see how you can celebrate the death of so many innocents," Orsino mumbled, earning another groan of disapproval.

"Take me to bed, Fenris," Hawke commanded. "Orsino is starting to bum me out."

"As you wish, Hawke."

They left before dawn broke, now with Donnic in their ragtag party of misfits. Hawke, for once, was not leading the party. In fact, she was trailing at the back of the group, nursing her remarkable hangover. Lack of sleep hadn't really helped that fact, although sleeping with another warm body was admittedly nice for a change. She hadn't had the chance since that man from the Hanged Man… well, that was more than three years ago now, and he was no one special. Actually, once she thought about it, there was that one time she and Gamlen had gone out drinking and he ended up crashing with her, though he wasn't a very pleasant sleeping companion, her uncle. He kicked and talked in his sleep and smelled awful. Fenris was still. He mumbled once and a while, but it was quiet enough, and sort of sweet. He reminded her of Bethany in that respect.

She talked to Anders about the previous night's disagreement, or whatever one would call such a thing. Now that she was in her right mind, she couldn't care less. She was just upset about Sebastian leaving, she decided, and a tad drunk. Typical, drunk Hawke, he added with a grin. She just felt a bit self-conscious after the big reveal and was still a bit touchy when it came to the subject of sex. She'd had enough bad experiences over the years.

When the sun finally showed itself from behind the mountains, Hawke began to regret drinking so much the night before even more. She closed her eyes for a moment and managed to trip over a rock in the road. It seemed as though nobody had noticed until steady hand came to guide her to her feet. She looked up and saw Orsino offering his arm. "Rest your eyes, I'll do the work for them," he suggested. Hawke took his offered arm and closed her eyes tightly, mumbling a word of thanks. "You should drink some more water; it will help with the headache."

"It's not just that; I think I might have taken a few more hits from the Templars than I thought. Anders gave me something for the pain. It'll kick in any minute," she said. "If you'd like to help in the meantime, why don't we talk? It'll help keep my mind off it. Softly, mind you."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. How was sleeping with my brother? I mean, well, not in that way. You know."

"He kicked me once or twice." He chuckled.

"Yes, kicking runs in the Amell family. Or, so I'm told." Silence followed. "Just the men have it, though. My uncle is remarkably restless, you should have heard him. I shared a room with him for over a year. Bethany, my sister, she was amazingly still when she slept, like our father. I've been told I'm the same way."

"Good to know," he said with an added chuckle, earning a similar response from his companion. "I'm not surprised, with all the fighting you do throughout the day. If I were you, I'd collapse into bed at the end of the day as well."

"You'll know what it's like soon enough. Imagine the Qunari uprising happening every single day. It's tiring, but you'll sleep like a baby."

"I'm already starting to feel the strain," he admitted. "Then again, I'm not as young as you."

"I'm not exactly young, myself. I never used to get hungover. It's decidedly unpleasant. Now I know what my uncle was always on about, Andraste's tits… this is not something you can throw fireballs at, is it? Ow… Maybe Mages are just weak when it comes to these things. We've got magic and demons and shit flowing through our brains; we don't need anything else to have to deal with. Maybe I should get out more."

"Yes, I'm glad this mistake has encouraged you to go out and make more mistakes," Orsino mumbled, sighing heavily. "It's just a hangover. It can't be that bad. Meredith was the worst headache Thedas has ever seen, and she's gone," he said helpfully. Hawke cracked a smile. "I'm going to keep trying to distract you with idle conversation, alright?" Hawke nodded. "The weather is nice, today, for so early in the year. Strange, after all that's happened, but nice. I never get to see the sun much, holed up in the Gallows. You might not appreciate it as much as I do, especially in your current state. Feeling the sun on my ears and seeing the road stretched out ahead. The air smells like freedom; I can do whatever I want now. I'm glad that I'm here. I'm eternally thankful that you stopped me before doing something I would have regretted. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there, or had you not stopped me. I don't even want to think about it…" His rambling trailed off. "Hawke?"

Hawke's body went completely limp and her legs fell out from under her. It caught him off-guard, and she fell forward, flat on her face. She was completely still, laughing into the dirt. Orsino called for help. Anders was noticeably unimpressed as he rushed over and saw her lying there. He knelt over and prodded her. "Maker's breath, Hawke, can you move? How much of that bottle did you drink?"

She could hardly manage to speak through the fit of laughter. "All of it."

Anders straightened up and turned to see everyone else watching him for answers. "She's crippled herself. She won't be able to move for about – I don't know – six hours. It will wear off eventually, but she'll be immobile until then, and there's nothing I can do about that. We might as well stop for now."

Carver threw his hands up the in air. "But we just started moving half an hour ago!"

"What else can we do, Carver? It's not like she's going anywhere anytime soon."

The younger Hawke groaned, fought back the urge to argue, and sighed. He marched over to his sister, grabbed her by the ankles, and threw her over his shoulders with little to no effort. "There. Let's keep moving, shall we?"

Hawke's hands rose and fell with every step her brother took, bouncing off Little Hawke's prominent rear end as a result, causing her to giggle in delirious amusement. Isabella came to know that drugged Hawke was a lot more fun than drunk Hawke – less emotional, and a lot simpler. She, and most everyone else, kept close behind Carver, who marched ahead with great purpose, trying his best to ignore his sister's antics. His task grew more difficult when she began to address him directly. "Carver, your butt is very firm. I commend your rear end. Ha." She looked at Isabella. "It runs in the family," she added with a wink.

"Oh, I know it does," she replied with a smirk.

"That's what happens when you spend a lot of time running from Templars," Carver shot bitterly. The strain of carrying his sister was beginning to take its toll. Or maybe he just woke up feeling extra angsty that morning. "It's inevitable. I bet Anders has a nice ass too. Hell, we probably all have nice, firm asses by now."

"Hey, you're the one who didn't want to stop," Anders said. "I'd offer to carry her, but I'm not half as strong as you are, and, well… Maybe it's time we stop for lunch."

"I second that notion," Carver said with added aggression and disdain.

Just another minute down the road did they find a perfect spot to rest, shaded, with large rocks to sit on, just along the river. They settled in nicely, and Carver propped his sister up against a tree. They soon found they didn't have much left for rations, after having eaten most of what they caught the night before. Varric found and skewered some small, furry animals with the help of Bianca, and Anders began preparing them over the fire Orsino built. The latter was trying as hard as possible to not seem as useless as he felt to the party.

Orsino was feeling a lot like dead weight ever since Hawke had stopped him from resorting to blood magic. He felt wrong inside, not so much like he didn't belong with them, but more so like he didn't deserve to be there, alive, with them. Not to mention he was older, he felt the pressure to prove his worth to his new travelling companions and to Hawke especially. He remembered her saying, not too long ago, that she admired him, which he found hard to believe. Now, after his quick fall from grace, after losing all of the apprentices he swore to protect in a fight he knew they wouldn't win, he didn't feel right anymore. About anything. But Hawke wanted him to come with her, and that was enough for now.

Hawke had re-learned how to move each individual finger and toe. She could move her wrist and lift her arm, but not bend it. Her legs were still completely numb. Merrill helped her eat a squirrel and a bit of rabbit, which everyone found vaguely funny to watch, as Merrill would scold Hawke for not cooperating and Hawke would yell at her for not doing a good enough job, for which she was scolded even more. It reminded everyone of a mother trying to feed a stubborn toddler. Hawke found it less than entertaining, herself.

After being fed, Hawke had little she could do other than try to start up conversation, not that there was much to be said. "Should we discuss sleeping arrangements now, or wait until tonight?"

"I've had enough walking," Isabella said. "I say we set up camp here. It's not a bad spot. It's pretty, at least. All in favour?" There was a chorus of 'I's. "Good. Who will be sleeping with who?"

"I say you and Daisy should share," said Varric.

"I'll be sharing with my husband, thank-you," Aveline said.

"I second," Donnic said with a smile, putting an arm around the guard-captain.

"I'm not sharing with the dog," Anders said, pointing at Fenris, who had to refrain from growling. "No offense, Fenris, but I don't trust you not to murder me in my sleep."

"I'll share with my sister," Carver said. "I don't trust her with any of you. No offense," he added, turning to glare at Anders. Fenris smiled, feeling almost as though he'd just been defended, somehow. Hawke scowled, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"I'm not into humans, anyway, Little Hawke," Varric assured him. "But I'll comply. I guess I'll share with you, Fenris. You can beat me at cards. We'll laugh and drink until dawn. And that leaves Blondie and the other twinkle fingers. Sound good?"

Everyone was at least partially satisfied, except Hawke, who was a bit offended by Carver taking charge over her. The feeling she felt reminded her of days as a rebellious teenager, displeased with her parents trying to keep her inside, safe from the Templars. She wanted to kick a wall, slam a door, write a sad poem and bang her head against something, maybe give Carver the old 'you can't control me' speech. Maybe that was just a side effect of the drugs; de-aging her by ten years. She sighed, let her head fall on her shoulder, and closed her eyes.