Mostly Bell here but next chapters, I'll start with Hawke's POV as well. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

(Don't own Dragon Age)


"A baby snake is still venomous, Hawke."

"Alright, next time, you hand over a crying child to the big bad Templars."

"Gladly." Fenris's reply was cold as ice.

Anger rose on my sister's face as bright as rubies but her voice lowered to a hiss. "You insensitive…and if it were Bell? You'd hand her off too?"

"That's not the issue here, Hawke." Fenris growled.

I took a baby sip of my wine, trying my best to drown out the angry voices. It was far from difficult; theirs was not the only conversation and hardly the loudest. Tonight, the Hanged Man was busting at its wooden seams; drink was flowing freely, inhibitions were dwindling and the amount of testosterone was dizzying.

"Aww," Isabella reached out and stroked my hair gently. "Just ignore them, sweetie pie."

Fenris growled. "And if the Knight Commander found out about you aiding Apostates? What do you think will happen to Bell then?"

Suddenly the glass I was holding shattered and painted the table with wine and glass.

Hawke gasped and was at my side in an instant. "Bell! Are you alright? Bleeding?"

"I…" Nothing came.

It seemed there was now an impenetrable circle formed around me; Varric, Isabella, Fenris and Hawke but no one else appeared to have noticed the glass shattering let alone how.

Hawke took my hand gently and examined it. "Well, there's no blood and I don't feel any glass. No pain?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't do it on purpose." I said hurriedly. When I looked up, Fenris was glowering.

"You should be lucky it was just a broken glass, Hawke."

Shame welled up inside me and I lowered my head.

"I'm sorry." And I was very, very sorry. "Don't fight."

Hawke draped her arm around my shoulders. It was comforting. Warm.

"So," she said with a bright smile. "I believe I've had enough excitement for one evening, Bell and I will be going home now."

"Ooh, can I come?" Isabella cooed. "Pretty please? Three girls, a bed, and all the rum we can drink. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Hawke cringed. "One can only imagine what plans you've already formulated in that nasty little head of yours but I'll thank you not to taint my little sister."

Varric laughed. "Taint? Rivaini? No."

Isabella shrugged. "Your loss, kitten."

We said our goodbyes hastily then headed for the door.

The moment we stepped outside, I felt better. Not wonderful but better.

It wasn't the fresh air. To find fresh air in Kirkwall would be like searching for a virgin in a brothel, as Isabella might say. There was no place that didn't reek of dead fish, body odor and the desperation that came from a person having not one copper to their name.

No. Out here in the wide open nighttime air, where the merchant stalls were all but haunted shells of their daytime selves and the people were sparse…she felt like she could breathe again.

Hawke patted my back gently. "Are you quite sure you're alright?"

I nodded once and we began to walk in silence, Hawke twirled a dagger flippantly between her fingers. She was thinking; her mind was elsewhere but I suspected her thoughts were likely of the person doing a very good job of following us with all the stealth of an ox.

I smiled in the darkness. Nothing ever happened anymore; if the gritty underbelly of the city had royalty, Hawke was it. Only a very desperate man or a stupid one would think of doing anything untoward yet, still, he always saw them home, right up to their door.

Hawke always seemed oblivious and they never spoke of it so, naturally, I took that to mean it shouldn't be mentioned.

Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"Let us not tell mother about this little mishap, shall we?" My sister's voice shattered the peaceful silence and all I could do was nod.

"Hawke…" I began but she flashed a smile that told me not only to hush but that the conversation was over.

So, I did what I could do; I watched my feet move one in front of the other, watched the ground beneath them turn from cracked stone and dirt to the polished cobblestone of High Town. I listened to the gulls squawking overhead, the faint footfalls behind us and my own traitorous thoughts.

Maybe it would be better in the Circle; there, I wouldn't be a bother to my family. Perhaps Fenris and Hawke could have some semblance of happiness without what I was mucking it about.

Or course, mother would have a heart attack and the tears that would gush from her eyes might drown half of High Town. And Hawke...

Well, Hawke would poison the Knight-Commander's kickers if she thought it would get me back.

As we passed, the looming megalith that was the Chantry board cast our bodies in shadow. It reminded me of a moon dial, the way the shadow stretched clear across the courtyard.

The Chantry was the only building in Kirkwall that could be seen from anywhere save Darktown. I, personally, could see it from my bedroom window; I could open the glass and listen to the Chant drifting up to my perch.

"Bell?"

My sister's voice snapped me out of my reverie and I realized I'd been staring at nothing for quite some time.

Hawke motioned for me in the doorway and I ran as fast as my legs could carry me because the last thing I wanted was to be left outside alone.

Or, not alone, as it were. Even as the door closed, I notice a flash of white hair and I smiled.


It was a beautiful day. The air was crisp while the sunlight beaming through the grove of trees warmed her bare shoulders and neck.

I sat on my legs with daisies in my hands; twisting and twining until I had a crown fit for a princess. Hawke sat across from me, smiling as she worked on her own daisy chain. Mine were always better; father said it was because I had gentle hands. Hawke was too hasty, impatient and rough so her daisies looked a mess.

With a giggle I placed the crown onto my head and leapt to my feet. I felt like running, sprinting into the horizon until I ran out of earth beneath my feet.

Oh how I'd missed this. The clean, open air, feeling the grass tickle my toes…this was home. And this was our meadow; my sister's and mine. Nothing bad could ever happen here; here there were no Templars, no rules, no chores or bedtimes. There were just two sisters, sunlight and more flowers than two girls could ever need.

"Bell…" Hawke began in her normal, cheerful tone. "I'm finished. How is it?"

She placed her newly made crown on her head and adjusted it. It was beautiful, magnificent actually and intricate; far better than the pitiful little things I remembered.

"It is…wonderful." I said as Hawke came to stand beside me.

Anyone could tell we were sisters; we had the same honey-blond hair, the same stormy blue eyes and pert noses but Hawke wore them better.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could really be royalty?" She reached out and gently touched my crown. "Princes and pastries; jewelry and dresses." I took a step back unconsciously. "Princess Bell does have a nice ring to it." She said.

"Not exactly." I murmured. "What use have I of princes and jewels?"

A smile graced her lips. I was starting to feel very uncomfortable; I wanted to call out for my sister but she was right before me and I was a bit scared.

"No? Everyone wants something." She said. "Just between you and your big sister, what do you want?"

I shook my head. "I'm happy."

Hawke tilted her head and looked deep into my eyes. "Are you really? What makes you the happiest then? The way mother insists you always have a chaperon? Or, perhaps, it's how she treats you like a dangerous animal we have to hide?"

"Stop it." The more I backed away, the closer she got. This wasn't my sister; she would never say these horrible things. "Go away. Whatever you are, leave."

"Whatever I am?" The thing wearing my sister's face laughed. "Bell, dear, I am your sister."

"No, you're not." I lifted my hand. Power danced on my fingertips; it felt good, like a caged bird spreading its wings. "Come no closer."

Finally the thing froze. "Would you hurt me? Your own sister?"

"You are not my sister." My fingers curled and flames rose from the ground and engulfed the imposter. The thing inside screamed and twisted; its arms stretched out from beyond the flames grasping at air.

I watched the demon burn. The flames danced in my eyes and when they died, only a charred creature remained its body nothing like the mask it had worn.

"May the Maker have mercy on such a misguided creature."

Now I was all alone. I wanted my sister; my real sister but I knew she must be asleep, dreaming her own dreams. I could visit her…if I wanted. But I never did.

Father said no one should know not even mother. That it would be bad. I still didn't quite understand why; I was a mage and dreams were just another web in the Fade…but…father said I was special.

Now that the demon had left its chill on my dream not even the sun felt warm. Everything was unraveling and not comfortable at all anymore so I did the only thing I could do. I woke up.