AN: Who else out there wished for the option to just kill Grace along with her blood mage lover? Would have saved a lot of people a lot of trouble in Act 3, but as she seems pretty harmless in Act 1, that would be like the old, "Would you kill Hitler as a baby?" question.

Spoiler Alert: The dialogues with Anders are taken from his conversations in the story with few embellishments from me.


Chapter Two

After three days, Merrill seemed calm enough to handle going out again. William started by walking with her in the gardens in the back yard of his estate. His mother had planted much of the growth here, but he had no talent for it. After her death, it had been Orana and Merrill who had maintained the flowerbeds in some semblance of order.

Looking at woman he loved, William tried to envision where he would be now if she wasn't in his life. Despite all their difficulties and differences—or maybe because of them—he felt closer to her than anyone else in the world.

He put his hand in his pocket, his fingers curling around the object within. It was Dalish, a carved ring made out of sylvanwood. He'd found it in the varterral cave on one of the elven corpses in there. Doubtless it was one of the treasures they were trying to retrieve from the maddened guardian.

He had tried to give it back to Marethari, but she explained Merrill would appreciate it more. Now, if she only didn't misconstrue the intent of his gift….

"Merrill…" he began, and then nervously cleared his throat when she looked up at him. Her remarkable green eyes were her prettiest feature, and they captured him, drew him into her, and left him breathless and dry mouthed. He tried again. "Merrill, I have something for you, something I found."

He pulled it out and held it out to her in his palm. She cocked her head and a frown creased her brow. Oh, Maker, it was a mistake, she was going to start crying again, and he didn't know how he was going to handle that.

Then she reached up and took the small ring from his palm, turning it over in her hand.

"It's Dalish, I think," he hastened to explain. "I just thought…I thought…."

What had he thought? That she would accept it as some keepsake of her exile, this time involuntary? As a memento of Marethari's death? Andraste's ass, Varric was right. He was really stupid sometimes.

"It tells the story of Fen'harel and the Creators," she murmured.

William recalled her telling him the tale, how the trickster had fooled the Old Ones and the Creators long ago and sealed them all away.

"I can't imagine the Dalish depicting the doom of their gods as a token of jewelry," he said.

"It's a Keeper's ring," she explained. "It's a Keeper's place to remember. To protect the clan from the Dread Wolf."

"Ahh," was all he could say.

She smiled then, a small pensive smile. "Thank you, it's a kind gift. I can't ever go back, but I will never forget her—them—and this, this was very kind of you."

He held her then and kissed her, and hoped in his arms she might find some solace.

"No matter how bad our rows," she said, "I always feel I can trust you, Hawke. You will never hurt me."

Marethari had spared him from having to, but Maker help him if he was ever forced to make that choice.


Sela petrae and drakestone. Those were the odd ingredients Anders needed for his Tevinter potion. William had never heard of anyone separating a demon from its host without killing one or both of them, but admittedly, his father hadn't known everything. In his lessons with Malcolm, when William had inquired if there was, his father could offer no hope on that score. Even the Dalish had no miracle cures, Marethari telling him that even were such possible, the afflicted soul was forever scarred and, like a wounded animal, would soon be picked off by other predators.

Still, he held out hope. Anders had seemed so certain this would free him, and he wanted to help his friend.

He and Anders hadn't gotten along very well in the past. They had butted heads over the whole demon possession thing, and about Hawke turning over those Starkhaven apostates to the Circle years ago. He regretted doing that, though not for the reasons Anders had argued. When Grace had returned to bite him on the ass—and cost a good man his life—William wished he had simply killed the bitch in the caverns that day along with her blood mage lover, Decimus.

Focus, William, get this done.

The sewers reeked, the task of gathering the materials beyond disgusting, and he had sought some relief in thoughts of the past, but he had to focus on the battles at hand, and control his fire spells carefully. The gasses and substances in the sewer were pretty flammable, causing him to hold back on his magic.

The very nature of the ingredients Anders required was questionable at best and William wondered just what his companion's real agenda was? A part of him was relieved Merrill chose to visit Isabela today, and not crawling around in the sewers looking for deposits of…best not think of how that was going to be made into a potion. Hopefully, Anders wouldn't be drinking it.

But what was he going to be using it for? The more William thought about it, the more uneasy he got. His friend was so changed from when they first met. It seemed as time passed, he grew angrier over the mage situation, and William feared what these trying times were doing to Anders.

It would be nice if they could resolve this peacefully, though William held out little hope of that as long as Meredith was in charge. Thrask's splinter group wasn't entirely wrong in what they wanted. He'd objected—most strenuously—to their methods, not their goals. The mages were being boxed into a corner and Meredith was getting worse with each passing day. Kirkwall had become a powder keg over which everyone was suspended.


Back at his clinic, Anders asked to speak privately with William.

"There is one more thing I would ask of you, Hawke, and I can't tell you why," he said. William looked dubiously at the healer. "I must get inside the Chantry, without being seen. Will you talk to the grand cleric for me, distract her long enough for me to do what must be done?"

"Considering the chantry is pretty packed for mass, I doubt you'd be noticed," William pointed out.

Anders blanched at that and shook his head. Then, he regarded Hawke once more. "Then we need to go after mass, when most people have left. I have to have privacy to do this, and too many people…risk…discovery."

William wondered how much of this was directed at him, and how much to that unseen entity in Anders's head.

"What do you want me to talk about?" he asked.

"Food. The weather? What does it matter?" Anders snapped impatiently, as if William were a small, uncomprehending child. "No, talk of mages. Give her one last chance to hear what mages have suffered. To pick a side. Perhaps she will be more inclined to listen to the Champion."

No, the more he heard, the less William liked of Anders's plan. "What are you plotting?"

His response only made William more wary. "You would not thank me if I told you. If you support freedom for mages, help me. That's all I can say."

"What is it you don't want me to see?"

"I would not tell you my plans, Hawke. You've made it pretty plain where your sympathies lie. I will ask you straight then. After all we've done, all you've seen here in Kirkwall, has nothing changed your mind? Will you help me free the mages of Kirkwall or stay at the side of the knight-tyrant?"

William didn't like being pushed and then manipulated. He refused to take the bait now. "Was this ever about you and Justice? Or have you lied this whole time?"

Anders sighed. "I lied, there is no potion. But what we have gathered will bring freedom for more than just me and Justice. It will bring freedom to mages across Thedas. In the face of that, one lie means little."

Fanatic. Everywhere he turned in Kirkwall, he ran into fanatics. He couldn't spit without hitting one. Anders seemed pretty blighted determined—enough he'd probably just get someone else to do it if William refused. Maker, maybe he might be able to control the situation if he was there. If Anders intended on assassinating Elthina or something equally stupid, better William was there to stop him than elsewhere wondering what the healer was doing.

His accession was reluctant and tasted like ashes. "What do you need me to do?"

Anders blinked, taken aback. "You surprise me again, William. I'm glad these years haven't been spent ranting in vain."

Whatever. William just wanted to be done with this.

"I promise, whatever happens, it's on my head. It won't come back on you," Anders vowed. "Go to the Chantry, talk to the grand cleric. I will join you when I'm done."


Most of the congregation was cleared by the time they made their way to the chantry. William went alone with Anders, not wanting to drag anyone else in on whatever was happening, especially not Aveline as she had her position as guard-captain and her marriage to Donnic to protect.

The biggest part of William's frustration with Elthina was the monumental passivity of the woman. Maybe her hands were tied, maybe she could have done something—anything—but she chose to do nothing. It seemed as if she wasn't even trying. And he really had little patience left with her.

It didn't take long. It seemed he was only speaking to Elthina for a few minutes before Anders rejoined him. Once out of the chantry, Anders refused to answer him until they were in the privacy of his clinic in Darktown.

"What did you do?" William demanded in a harsh whisper.

Anders smiled, closed his eyes. "I can't tell you how good it feels for a spirit to fulfill its function. The waiting is over. I am finally seeking justice and he is exultant. There is no ecstasy humankind can feel to match."

"Are you going to tell me what you did?" William reiterated.

"You are Kirkwall's Champion. You can better aid our cause in that role than by aligning yourself too closely to me."

William had to wonder if Anders did this shit just to watch that vein in his temple throb. "Every time you refuse to tell me, I have to imagine something crazier."

"This isn't a fight for sane men."

That's for sure.

"The war will happen. The clock is ticking down. It will be midnight soon."

"What happens at midnight?"

Anders sighed. "I know you don't understand why I do what I must do, but I had thought maybe you'd support me."

"You won't tell me what you're doing!"

"I'm trying to protect you."

"I'm a big boy, Anders, I can look after myself." Unlike some others I can mention….

"There's no reason we both have to hang."

"You're the one who jerked me around with that ridiculous story about the Tevinter potion!"

"Should I have told you the truth? There's no one in Kirkwall I wouldn't kill to see mages free."

Good to know.

"How would you have reacted to that?" Anders demanded.

"There must be something untried. A peaceful solution isn't beyond our grasp."

The denial was flat. "No."

"If you talk to the grand cleric…."

Had Anders even tried? He had plastered a false smile on his face, directed it at the grand cleric, and only said "good evening" to the woman earlier.

"No."

"If Meredith steps down…."

"No. They see mages as monsters. They can't imagine a world with room for all of us."

"Maybe they're right. If you want mages to be free, you need to convince them they aren't dangerous."

Anders threw his arms to his side and exploded. "Impossible!"

"All you're doing is proving the templars right."

"Do you know how long I've been telling them that? Mage after mage in Kirkwall turning to blood magic because its 'easy.' I always said they were their own worst enemies, but I never thought I…."

He sighed then. It seemed he was beginning to relent. William pressed his advantage.

"Whatever you planned, there's still time to stop it."

"Yes, time…maybe there's still…time," Anders agreed.

William breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they could still save this situation.

Then his eyes glowed and Justice came to the fore.

"Leave! This does not concern you!"

It was the height of insanity, William felt, to be attempting to use moderation with this creature. It was clearly out of Anders's control. How much of Anders was left?

"You will not get justice by becoming what everyone fears!"

"I will get justice by whatever means required," the spirit countered. "You have given into sloth. You would stand idly by while mages are abducted and tortured."

In the Fade, his father had told him, trust only yourself. Demons will try to trick you, their words will seem real, but they're always lying, even when they twist the truth. William refused to give in now.

"Go. Anders has no need of you."

The light faded, and Anders blinked and brought a hand to his forehead. "What…what was I saying?"

"You really don't know what just happened?"

"No. What do…? Oh. I'm having more blanks in my memory. It's like the longer we go, the less 'me' there is." His brow furrowed. "You were right all along. I should never have done this."

Whether he meant merging with the spirit, or whatever it was he had done in the Chantry tonight, William wasn't sure.

"I will see," Anders promised. "Maybe it's not too late to change things."

Maybe it wasn't.