Sometimes...(I am sad to say)...life interfers with my hobby. :/ ...that and I'm marathoning LOST with a friend...*cough*


Enjoying the feel of the wind on his face, Hawke allowed himself to smile. He never thought he'd be happy to see the Gallows in the distance, but after over two months in Gwaren he had found himself almost homesick for the smelly little shack that had become his home. Almost.

Being back in Fereldan had been strange. Gwaren wasn't home; didn't feel like home. Gwaren was so remote that it barely even felt like it was part of the same country as Lothering. The Blight seemed to have ignored the port city completely; the only reminder of the constant danger the nation faced were the throngs of refugees who were still arriving daily as more and more of the continent was ravaged by the darkspawn. Hope had seemed all but lost in the city until mere weeks before Hawke had left. Whispered rumors spoke of the few surviving Grey Wardens from the Battle of Ostagar heading towards Denerim to confront Teyrn Loghain, the new self appointed King of Fereldan-and as Carver told it, traitor to The Crown. Apparently one of the Grey Warden's was even King Maric's illegitimate son. But only days after that rumor began circulating, the largest wave of refugees yet entered the city; Redcliffe had been overrun by the Blight.

Hawke ran his hand through his hair; he wanted to believe Fereldan could still be saved, but the fate of the country seemed to depend solely on two individual Grey Wardens, who were being opposed in their efforts on every front. He didn't envy their position, not one bit.

He sighed, and jumped down from the bow of the ship, forcing himself to focus on things that were within his control. When he landed in Kirkwall his debt to Athenril would be nearly paid. Then he, Aveline, and Carver would all be free. They would no longer be low life smugglers. They'd just be unemployed Fereldan refugees. He found the idea of unemployment vastly superior to being forced into a criminal existence.

"Well Hawke, again, it has been a pleasure sailing with you," a booming voice declared, slapping Hawke on the back.

Hawke smiled, "The same to you Bellick," Hawke extended his hand and shook the burly sailor's hand.

Bellick laughed, "One of these days, you're going to be more than a passenger on my ship Hawke, I promise."

"I think with all this back and forth I've hit my limit for sailing in this lifetime," Hawke admitted with a polite grin.

Bellick chuckled, "Well you're still better than my son-in-law," he gestured to the positively green looking sailor breathing heavily over the side of the deck.

Hawke bit back a grin, "Well at least he's stopped vomiting; that's certainly an improvement," he offered earnestly.

Bellick's lips pulled back into an even larger grin, revealing two rows of crooked teeth, "He only stopped puking the other week," Bellick's belly shook as he laughed. He clapped Hawke on the shoulder again, "You've been good company Hawke. If you need anything, you just give me a holler, ya hear?"

Hawke smiled, "I appreciate that Bellick."

Kirkwall:

Hawke heaved his rucksack over his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of land under his feet again. He had no real desire to sail back to Gwaren ever again and hopefully with freedom so close, he wouldn't have to.

He inhaled deeply and coughed, the wind was blowing the stench of Darktown up onto the dock. He had not missed that, not one bit. Eager to get away from the foul smell of sewage, he jogged through the dock yard. He was almost out of the dock when he froze, forced to do a double take.

Standing easily over six feet tall, a pale skinned creature with angry red tattoos covering its entire chest was guarding the entrance to a blocked off section of the dock. The thing had horns-really really big ones. Hawke cocked his head to the side. Though he'd never seen a true Quanari-the one who'd been locked up in Lothering had been one of the rarer hornless ones-he knew what they were supposed to look like. They were even creepier in person than they were in the tales, and definitely as intimidating.

He remembered the night before he'd been shipped to Gwaren that a Quanari warship had crashed off the Wounded Coast but…surely those same Quanari couldn't still be here. There was no way the Viscount would allow that. Running his hand through his messy, now windswept, hair he sighed. He would just have to ask Carver about it when he got home.

He took the stairs to Lowtown two at a time, making sure to avoid the alienage-that was not a place a human wanted to go, especially not alone.

The market's of Lowtown were booming. It was a beautiful sunny day, which made it perfect for peddling. He strolled through the streets, listening with increasing amusement to the vendor's attempts to attract customers. He chuckled as one vendor started screaming about fixing men's 'limp masts'.

His eyes froze as they locked on to one particular vendor. A beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Cocking his head he approached her with a smile.

"My my, if it isn't Hawke," Elegant allowed a begrudging smile to tug at her lips.

"Good to see you again Elegant," Hawke nodded politely. He realized, at that very moment, that he'd never actually told her he was leaving town two months ago. Oops.

She smiled, "Lady Elegant now, if you don't mind. I'm a married woman these days," she brushed her hair away from her face, subtly showing off the small jewel adorning her ring finger.

He smiled, "Congratulations," he offered sincerely, bowing his head slightly.

She stared at him for a moment, "Last time I saw you, you were working for that smuggler Athenril. Are you still indentured to her?"

"I'll be an unemployed man by week's end I'm afraid," he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

She chuckled, "You're idea of what made the glass half full always was a little…different Hawke," she smiled at him warmly. "Well, since I highly doubt you'll suddenly stop getting into trouble just because you're free, stop by anytime. I'm sure you'll be in need of some concoctions soon enough yes? I'd be more than happy to help you out," her smile faded and she hesitated, "However, that…other…part of our relationship is off the table."

Hawke smiled, "I would certainly hope so Lady Elegant." He might be a Lowtown smuggler, but that didn't mean he would tarnish what little honor he was still allotted by sleeping with a married woman.

"Same old Hawke," Elegant mused, "Still carrying around that odd sense of nobility." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, "I had to say that, I'm sorry, I've had a number of my former clients come here, harassing me; I've had to call the guard on more than one," her smile turned wry, "That becomes a bit problematic though when your former clients are guards."

"Well, I wasn't a client, but you don't have to worry about me harassing you," he assured her. "Take care Ele-…Lady Elegant," he said sincerely, giving her a slight wave as he departed. He sighed heavily as he strode away, kicking at the dirt, "Well, I'll probably never see her again," he muttered. They'd had a good run. But he was happy for her. Their relationship had always lacked…substance…anyway.

He continued through Lowtown, selling off a few pieces of junk he'd acquired during his stay in Gwaren, before heading towards Gamlen's hovel. To his surprise, the trinkets had ended up being of significantly greater value then he'd anticipated. His face split into a huge toothy grin as he realized exactly what to do with the coin he'd just made.

He entered his neighborhood and jogged up the stairs towards the hovel. Hawke rapped his knuckles against the flimsy wooden door to the house and listened to the shuffle of activity as footsteps headed towards the door.

"If its McMorrow, don't let him in. Tell him I'm not here. I can't pay him!" Gamlen's angry and obviously drunk voice hollered loudly.

Carver opened the door.

"When McMorrow comes around, Gamlen might want to try keeping his voice down," Hawke said dryly.

Carver grinned, "That is his quiet voice if you can believe it."

"Oh I can believe it," Hawke chuckled. Carver had made a joke! An actual joke. The wonders of the day would never cease.

Carver opened the door wider, letting his brother back into the small hovel.

"Well look who it is," Gamlen sneered, "Another mouth to feed," he muttered something else under his breath and staggered drunkenly into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Hawke rolled his eyes; that was about the reaction he'd expected of his uncle. Sighing in exhaustion, he dropped his rucksack to the floor before turning back to Carver.

"Where's mother?"

"She's taking the dog for a walk," Carver explained. " I'm surprised you didn't see her, she usually goes by the docks," he added after an awkward pause.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Carver scratched behind his ear.

"Should we uh, hug, or something?" Carver said nervously, crossing his arms across his chest.

Hawke grinned wryly, "No, uncomfortable silences are definitely more us."

Carver rolled his eyes, "Right. Now I remember why it took over a month for me to start missing you," he muttered. And…the wonders of the day ceased.

Hawke remained unfazed, grin firmly in place, "But you did miss me little brother," he said the term of endearment with a slight edge to it, "And that's all that matters," his warm smile was offset by the mischievous glint in his eye.

Carver made a scoffing sound, "I've spent the last two months without your shadow over me," he sneered, "I'm not eager to forget what the sun looks like again."

"Could try looking outside, it is a lovely day," Hawke offered innocently.

"Just shut up," Carver muttered, moving towards his sword. He hoisted it onto his back and tied a leather strap around his chest to keep it in place. "Well, we best be off. I'm sure Athenril will want to know that you've returned."

"Yes we should go see Athenril, but not for the reason you think," Hawke grinned, pulling his coin purse from his pocket. He swung it by its string, letting Carver hear the jingle of coins within. "We're paying her off. For the three of us. Ending this servitude a little early."

Carver's eyes got wide. "How did you get that kind of coin?"

Hawke shrugged, "I stumbled across a little bit of valuable loot in Gwaren. Just sold it on my way in; for more coin than I expected." His expression darkened, "And I have no intention of working for Athenril a moment longer."

Carver grinned, "I can't wait to see the look on her face when you throw this to her."

Hawke laughed, "I'm positively giddy," he admitted wryly. "Let's go."

Hightown:

"Athenril," Hawke greeted cheerfully as he approached the smuggler near The Blooming Rose.

"Ah Hawke! It's good to see you back," Athenril returned, nodding happily, "We have some important work to do, I'm glad you returned when you did."

Hawke chuckled, "I'm afraid we won't be helping you with that Athenril," he gestured to himself and his brother, "And neither will Aveline."

Athenril cocked her head to the side uncertainly, her nose curling slightly, "What do you mean?"

He tossed her the sack of coin, which she deftly caught. "That's what's left of the debt we owed you for getting us into the city," he said lightly, watching as she empty the purse into her hand, counting the coin. "We're even," Hawke added darkly, staring straight at her.

Athenril's jaw clenched angrily. "You really think you'll find a better job on your own Hawke?" she laughed humorlessly.

"I'm willing to take my chances," Hawke said, his voice still low, almost dangerous.

"Good luck taking care of the Templars on your own," she chuckled. His expression darkened, and he was quickly next to her, the small knife he kept on his belt in his hand. He held the tip inches away from her stomach.

"What exactly are you implying?" he questioned sternly, staring her straight in the eye. Was she planning on blackmailing them like Meeran had tried to do?

"Nothing Hawke," Athenril seemed unfazed by the knife-she knew he wouldn't use it-, "It's just the truth. You need coin to make the Templars look the other way. The incidents with Meeran and that Templar on the dock weren't the only times that the Templars started sniffing around our business; just the ones that got bad. Without us to protect you though, you won't be able to make them just disappear."

His jaw clenched, "I'd still rather take my chances," he said evenly, pulling back, discretely slipping the knife back into his belt.

He spun on his heel sharply, walking away from the congregation of smugglers. Carver fell instep next to him.

"Well, at least everything ended on a pleasant note," Hawke commented dryly.

Carver grunted. "She's right though. If the Templars come looking for you…" Carver said nervously.

Hawke smiled; every once in a while Carver acted like a real brother. "We'll figure something out," Hawke promised.

"Good. Because I am sick of running from your Templars," Carver muttered.

Hawke rolled his eyes; and then Carver acted like himself and everything was right in the world again.


Not much to say. One more chapter before Act 1 begins! I'm excited to really be getting into things. I feel like the plot is more cohesive as a story than it felt in the game, which will hopefully be conveyed in this fic, as that is one of my goals. We shall see I suppose.

Enjoy and Review!