A/N: As mentioned in the previous chapter, Hawke is a very attractive man—a man who can attract more attention than he bargains for. *hint* Just a heads-up. Also, I will use some in-game dialogue, because it's hilarious and awesome, and is worth repeating. Heh.

Comrades

The first place I could think of to scrounge up some gold was oddly enough, the city guard—Kirkwall's second-finest (after their glorious templars), guaranteed to have jobs that required discretion. Aveline occasionally had problems with the crime in Lowtown, and though the guard usually left these to the discretion of the poor, there were opportunities for those needing an extra coin or too. The trick was to stop while one was ahead, or risk getting gutted when the coterie grew weary of such interference. Needless to say, Carver was unwilling to follow. Varric seemed cheerful enough, despite my brother's constant whining. The latter loathed entering the barracks (which was a curious thing—he wanted to join them not too long ago), and dragged his heels as much as he could, giving me that rueful glare every so often.

"Are you sure this is the best place to look for gold? No offense Hawke, but you don't have the skills to work Hightown either." The dwarf raised an eyebrow as we entered Viscount's Keep—where many of Kirkwall's richest loitered, hoping to gain an entrance with the leader of Kirkwall.

I smirked—knowing full well that the purses here were heavy with the clink of valuables. "Oh I'm no pickpocket—"

"—because most people would notice a tall, fully-bearded man looming over and laying his huge paws on their persons." Carver continued nonchalantly, much to Varric's amusement.

"Exactly. That and I don't have the dainty feet for it." Ah, brotherly-love, always a rare source of jokes. Varric was sniggering, hard. Glad to see that we were entertaining somebody.

But soon, we came upon the woman clothed in jagged platemail, emblazoned with the orange that oddly enough, matched her hair. Being on different sides of the law, there was once a time when all three of us—Carver, Bethany and I were worried that our friend would one day be called upon to arrest us for our crimes. But as the months rolled by and we barely saw Aveline after she joined the guard, we relaxed, occasionally calling upon her for a drink. She rarely assented, but hey, it was better than being clapped in irons.

I called her name, by way of greeting—and was replied with no more than an indifferent "Hawke."

She stalked across the corridor, pausing before the papers tacked to the board—detailing shifts and duties for the guardsmen, peering at the spidery script closely. I had to admit, I did expect a much warmer welcome. "I'm fine, thanks for asking—though the pies in Lowtown do give one terrible gas."

"What—?" she muttered, before turning to face us three. Carver was giving her a particularly nasty look. "Oh I'm sorry—it just seems like we just spoke." That explained it.

I crossed my arms. "You know I hate it when you have your people spy on me. Can't you camp out on my doorstep like all the others who want to know more about the great, fantastic Hawkes?"

"I keep an eye on my friends," she replied loftily.

"Is that what you call us now?" I could just see Carver roll his eyes. He was not particularly amused by her admission. Neither was I.

She sighed heavily, shaking her head in defeat. "Friends look out for each other. But I will refrain from attaining my information in that manner from now on."

"Good. Any jobs for us?" I supposed that it was as good an assurance as I could get from her—that woman was not one for deception.

"Well, there is this one thing…" With that, Aveline regaled us with the promise of a bandit raid on the Wounded Coast. It certainly was on the way— for I remembered that we still had an amulet to return.

xOxOx

So I truly did not expect to see Flemeth again.

"So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of the bargain—I half expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket." The witch was smiling, but one could never tell with them. At least, my debt to her was done.

Agreeing to delivering that trinket had seemed a bargain at the time, and it had gotten all of us here. Safe. For now. I kept telling myself that it was no worse than the other things I'd done, for the sake of family.

"I couldn't sell it. Maybe because there was a witch inside." Even if I did feel sort-of used.

"Just a piece. A small piece, but it was all I needed. A bit of security should the inevitable occur…and if I know my Morrigan, it already has." Everything about her still bugged me intensely—the sooner we were away from here, the better. I ignored the obvious questions Flemeth tempted me to ask—I wanted no part of whatever preoccupied such a dangerous being.

"You have plans, I take it?"

"Destiny awaits us both, dear boy—we have much to do… before I go, a word of advice—" She turned and faced the cliff, speaking into the void. Curiously, her voice diminished not.

"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment… and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap." The woman eyed me again, citrine orbs judging every fibre of my being. "It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

And I knew where this conversation was going. "Cheap advice, from a dragon."

"We all have our challenges." She seemed to smile at that, though it did not reach her piercing eyes.

Carver chose this moment to mutter, though it really could have been quieter. "Are we going to regret bringing her here?"

She turned her gaze on him, and to his credit, he did not flinch. Much. "And regret is something I know well. Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul. And when the time comes for your regrets— remember me. " Carver only swallowed. Having a Witch of the Wilds address one quite so familiarly did take some getting used to.

She then turned to Merrill—the young Dalish elf who had led us thus far up the Sundermount, and her voice became pitying. "As for you, child, step carefully. No path is darkest than when your eyes are shut."

The girl barely kept from bowing again. "Maas seranaas, Asha'bellanar."

Flemeth approached us again, this time, our eyes met and I felt a distinct chill. "Now the time has come for me to leave. You have my thanks—and my sympathy." I had no witty reply to that, it was bizarre, to say the least—and I had questions, but I knew that I would not get the answers now. These, would probably become clearer later—but it foretold endless tragedies. I did not want to admit it, but she had gotten to me.

The light gleamed from within her—and she transformed into that famous dragon form, growing scales, wings, and those wicked teeth. A creature to be feared—but undeniably mesmerising. To have this much power, and still fear something simple as death enough to have given me her amulet— made me find her just the little bit less terrifying.

Only a bit though. Her being able to breathe fire still made one wary.

P.S.: Feel free to tell me what you think—what you want to see, whether it was funny, if it was not, and whether you liked it :D