My keyboard seemed to really be on the fritz while writing this, so if there's a bunch of mistakes tell me, I'll correct them and republish this.


Strangely, Bethany Hawke found herself missing the Gallows.

Not the Templars or their rules, of course. Not the people, after all they were now at the Viscount's Keep along with her. The Gallows had been her home, and now she was not at home. If she could find a way to explain why she missed a place that was home to so much grief and injustice, that would be the only way she could. Bethany was a person who craved normalcy, a life where she could wake up in the morning, have her duties, and go to bed at night without the unpredictability that her life had consisted of beforehand. She missed her family, and could not say she particularly enjoyed the Circle, but she had grown used to it, and liked many things about it. Teaching the children, exchanging excited whispers with other woman her age about handsome Templars, the jokes and games that they would play to occupy themselves, the library, with its vast collection of books to read, she could not pretend she hated it.

The past two and a half weeks should have been the best of both worlds. She was still at the Gallows, still teaching and laughing with many of the same people, but the coming battle kept an oppressive air hanging over all the mages' heads, herself as much as anyone. After all, it was her brother that was responsible for Knight Commander Meredith's death, and she was his sister. While they all faced death if the Templars breached the city, Bethany was sure a special punishment was in the their mind for her. The how of the situation she and her fellow mages found themselves in still eluded her. She never turned a blind eye to the rising tension and hostility between Meredith and Orsino, but to think that those arguments would result in all out war, it was unthinkable. Bethany had been raised to view the Templars as a fixture of the world, something like a mountain or an ocean, an unyielding natural occurrence that would always be there. To fight them? Ridiculous. To beat them? Impossible. Yet here she was, she and her friends and family, preparing to fight them, in a battle that would determine their fates. It was the most intimidating situation she could imagine.

Helping prepare the other mages for the coming battle had done much to keep her mind occupied, which was necessary to prevent her from truly thinking of the long odds they faced. Since she had plenty of experience fighting Templars alongside her brother, she was an obvious choice for the role, and had accepted it without hesitation. Now though, with all the mages inside the Keep, awaiting the word that battle was imminent, she was left alone to think. The past two days had found Bethany solemn, withdrawn, a frown on her face more often than a smile. Even if they won this battle, the Templars would be back. She had come to terms with the fact that this battle was not winnable. The most they could do was force the Templars back, but they would eventually return, with greater numbers. "We are not alone," some said. "Circles all around Thedas are rebelling. We will never again live a life in the chains of others." Bethany wished she thought the same way.

That night, the second since the mages had been moved to the Keep, was proving quite distracting, at least. Isabela had come to visit with her, and was now entertaining a group of them with bawdy stories that may or may not be true. Bethany had never cared if Isabela's stories were true or not. They were exciting. She had already heard this one before, a story about a captain and her lusty crew, and a storm they weathered. Still, she found herself engrossed in the tale. When it was over, the crowd, girls and women of all ages, began whispering excitedly and asking if the story was true or not. In predictable fashion, Isabela donned one of her smartass grins and said, "That is for me to know and you to never find out." She walked away to the sounds of disappointed groans and Bethany's giggles.

While the combat capable mages and the non-combat capable slept in different areas of the Keep, during the day they were allowed mostly free reign. The only exception was the throne room, where the nobles were kept, and the dungeons below the Keep. Bethany spent most of her time continuing to train those participating in the coming battle, and spent what little time not doing so with the younger children, who adored her. Their eager smiles when she approached them never failed to warm her heart. She had just decided to find what room the children were hiding in that night and help them prepare for bed when the massive double doors at the entrance to the Keep nudged open. Her brother entered, Merrill and Varric at his side.

The first thing Bethany noticed, being his sister, after all, was the surprising energy and vigor in his movements, the healthiness of his skin. It had only been a couple days ago that Garrett looked to be on the verge of exhaustion. Skin pale, a wound in his shoulder, eyes red and baggy. This was a completely different man she was seeing now. Garrett was having an intense conversation of some kind, but stopped to smile at her when he noticed Bethany standing nearby. She smiled worryingly back at him, watching as he ascended the steps to the Viscount's office. "How does he handle all this?" Isabela asked, sneaking up on Bethany and making her jump. "I swear, that man is not human. For one, he never had sex with me. Add in how well he handles our current situation, he has to be some type of demon in a man's skin."

"He has not been handling our circumstances that well," Bethany mumbled.

"Hawke looks fine to me," Isabela said.

"That's today." Bethany stared down at her feet. "I wish this was all over. For better or worse, I just want this to be done."

"Spoken like a true Hawke," Isabela said. "I, on the other hand, wish this fight would never happen. I would love if that army outside the walls stayed there forever, and I was able to continue making a killing sneaking food and wine into the city."

"You do realize that would never last forever? Either you would get caught, or we would run out of gold to pay you with."

Isabela sulked. "That is why its called a wish, spoilsport." The pirate eyed the door to Garrett's office curiously, tapping her left foot. "What do you say we go find out what he's talking about up there?"

Bethany could not pretend she was not curious. "I don't know. If he wanted us to know, we would be in there."

"Oh come on!" Isabela said, grabbing Bethany's hand and dragging her up the stairs. "If he has a problem, you just tell him that as the leader of the mages, you have a right to know everything."

"I'm not…" she began, but stopped when she realized the pirate would not hear anything she said anyway. Besides, it would have been an empty denial. "Leader of the mages," was to powerful a term, but Bethany could not deny that they all looked to her, and whenever their was a decision to be made among the mages, her voice seemed to matter most. Much of that had to do with her last name, Bethany assumed, but much like her brother, she did not back away, did not cower from the responsibility.

Isabela knocked once and entered the office, not even bothering to wait for an answer. Garrett was outraged until he saw who was entering his office, his expression softening immediately. "Why bother to knock if you barge in anyway?" he asked.

"I didn't want to be rude," Isabela said, absurdly. "So what is going in here?"

Garrett shook his head, though there was no anger on his face. "Oh, you know. Army of Templars outside the city that want my head on a pike. Heavily outnumbered with much worse arms. Trying my hardest to convince everyone, myself included, that we can actually win." Such words would never be spoken to anyone but the group of people in that office. "I'm glad you two are here, I was going to send for you anyway, Bethany. How are you and your friends getting along with the guardsmen?"

That was a very tricky question to answer. "We make it work," she said after a pause. "The guards listen to Aveline. We listen to them and stay out of their way." The situation was far more complicated than that, of course, but Bethany did not want to get into the details. She was not lying, they were making things work. The mages tried their best to stay out of the guardsmen's quarters unless they were sleeping, and even then only took the beds that were empty while their owners were on duty. Having so many people cramped into such a small space, with close to three times as many people as available beds, would strain anyone.

Garrett knew that, and did not press his inquiries further. "Well, enjoy tonight. It will be the last good night of sleep you get for a while, if ever."

Bethany stared at her brother in disgust. "You are supposed to inspire confidence! What kind of thing is that to say?"

Of course he smiled that stupid grin in response. "I was making sure you were listening." The grin disappeared, and the friendly atmosphere within the office dissipated. "The Templars are mobilizing. I'm going to begin moving our forces into defensive positions and preparing our weapons tonight. You and your mages will not receive your call until tomorrow morning, but you need to tell them yourself. You have already assigned leaders and roles, correct?"

Bethany nodded, "When you asked me to." That had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. So many arguments took place that night, with Bethany having to resolve many. Unfortunately, that led to having to tell hard truths, something she was never good at, something she hated, but it was her responsibility and she told those hard truths dutifully. "We are ready when you need us."

Garret nodded. He was still trying to project strength, but Bethany had grown up with him, knew nearly everything about her brother. The regret and fear in his eyes was evident. "Good. I know it will not be easy, but try to get some sleep tonight. Make sure everyone else does as well."

Three hours later, Bethany was predictably wide awake, staring in the direction of the ceiling as she lay on her cot in Aveline's office. She could not actually see the ceiling, as it was too dark. The cot belonged to the Guard-Captain, who used to sleep in her office when she first received her promotion. She had been more than willing to part with the cot, and Bethany was grateful, since it saved her from the fight for beds elsewhere in the quarters. Arguments could be fierce for those beds, and keep the people in those arguments awake for hours longer than they should be. That night, however, Bethany was awake as anyone in the damned city.

Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow it would begin, and it would not end until they won or she was dead. Try as she might to not be, Bethany was frightened. Not a little frightened, either, she was absolutely petrified of what was going to happen, and not just for herself. What would happen to the children? What about all her friends from the Circle? What about Garrett and Merrill and Isabela and Aveline and Varric? What about Vivienne? Bethany had those close to her die, but while that was not a loss she wanted to deal with again, it was inevitable. A few tears began to form in her eyes, which she quickly blinked them away.

Another hour, and Bethany gave up on sleep. She left Aveline's office, told a young woman sleeping on the floor to take the cot, and walked out into the expansive entryway of the Keep. Torches lined the walls, casting gloomy shadows all around, but there was no one patrolling, no servants scrubbing the floor. The Keep was as empty as Aveline had ever seen it. She walked towards the stairs, but before she took the first step, she noticed a faint glow coming from the direction of the Viscount's office. Inside she found her brother, at his desk writing letters. He looked up when Bethany entered, and tapped the end of the quill on the rim of the inkpot he was drawing from. "I thought I told you to get some sleep," he said gently.

"You do NOT get to tell me to sleep when you are awake yourself," she reproached him. Bethany took a seat across the desk from her brother, only just then noticing the bottle of wine, quarter-filled glass nearby. "And you are drinking, tsk-tsk. Mind if I pour myself a cup?"

Refusal appeared in Garrett's eyes for a moment, but he shook his head. "Go ahead."

The wine was good, and Bethany sipped it gingerly, trying to make it last. Garrett did not do the same, gulping the remainder of his cup and pouring another. "So what are you doing?" Bethany asked, flicking her eyes at the letter on the desk. Three others were stacked next to it.

Garrett appeared hesitant to say, his shoulders tensing up for a moment. "Letters that need to be written, for when this is over. One to Anton Freamin, thanking him and asking him to make sure Vivienne stays safe. One to Vivienne, telling her I'm sorry and that I love her. One for you and our friends, which you can read if necessary. And the one I'm writing now, which will be delivered to Lirene, copied, and distributed amongst the city, is a plea to continue fighting, to never give in to the tyranny that the Templars attempt to force on the world."

Bethany had to take a bigger sip of her wine. "This is grim talk, Brother. Are you so sure we will die?"

"What?" Garrett said, surprised. "No, no! These letters are not to be distributed in the event of my death. Well, that is a lie, the one intended for you and the others is, but the others are to be delivered when I have fled the city."

That was still grim. "So we are leaving?"

"Bethany, you know the plan. It has not changed since I told you three weeks ago. We cannot hold Kirkwall. The Templars will not stop, and we do not have the manpower or the will to fight them off. Kirkwall will fall, and the most we can do is hold them off long enough to get the mages away. The only thing that has changed is that Isabela actually came back, something I did not expect."

"Will there truly be no help? From Orlais, Ferelden, the rest of the Free Marches, anywhere?"

"No. They are all fighting their own battles."

Okay, she had to down the wine quickly now. "I guess you fooled me into believing we could really win. The part about fleeing the city kind of slipped my mind."

"I cannot fault your that. I tried to do the same." Garrett stood and stared out the window of his office, the determination returning to his eyes and his body language. "I will not lose, Bethany. I refuse. These bastards will not take you, nor the others. I do not care if it costs me my life, if the mages are able to escape, I won and they lost. That is all that matters."

Bethany stood, slightly unsteady after only one cup of wine, and stood at her brother's side. "I love you, Garrett," she said, hugging him around his midsection. "If you die to sacrifice yourself needlessly though, I will learn the most vile blood magic imaginable just so I can bring you back and punish you." Garrett laughed, heartily and earnestly, a laugh Bethany did not get to hear enough these days. Despite knowing the question would only depress him again, Bethany asked, "Did Vivienne choose to stay here in Kirkwall?" Bethany could imagine her brother asking in a way that pressured the poor woman into staying.

"I did not ask her. I will not ask her to leave. It is best if she stays."

"You need to ask her. It will hurt her more if you disappear, without giving her the choice, then it would if you died. It will haunt you forever if you just leave, some bullshit letter being your only goodbye, your only explanation. Just go, right now." Garrett opened his mouth to protest, but Bethany held up her hand. "Not a word, go."

Garrett laughed again. "I must admit, you just sounded exactly like Mother. Okay, I will go." He turned and left his office, turning around after passing through the door. "Thank you, Sister."

Bethany nodded, smiling warmly. "Go, Brother, talk to your wife."