Ah, let's see what happens now. There's always a catch.


"So, I guess I am the handsome rebel mage who saves the maiden from a dragon after all," Hawke said while approaching Anders, giving away a small grin.

"Hawke, your tooth," Anders said as he widened his eyes and pointed at his mouth.

"What? Oh shit," she shouted in terror as she cupped her maxillary. Sodding little blighted fucker, may his bones rot along with Andraste's tits 'cause that's as far as he can get in seeing breasts, she thought as she remembered Carver punching her in the jaw.

"I'm pretty sure it landed somewhere over here… or was it there?" Varric said awkwardly as he scratched his head and looked around.

"I knew this place would bite my ass off … or in this case, Carver punching my tooth off," she said sighing, then gave her brother a homicidal look.

"And to think these people lived in here … voluntarily! What in the blazes for?" Varric muttered in sarcastic wonder as he kept bending over and looking for the tooth.

"I don't know, but my temper is getting fearsomely shorter than you," Hawke said aggressively as she joined Varric in his search.

"I'll abstain from any comments seeing as how we almost became no less than a sack of oatmeal for that dragon just a minute ago," Varric said as he frowned at her. "Well, this place is certainly growing on me. Kinda like a tumor."

"Huh, tell me about it," Hawke said dispiritedly as she got on her knees near the dragon's corpse.

"As if that's not enough," Varric muttered in annoyance walking over to another part of the room to look for the tooth. "Well, look on the bright side – well, my bright side – not only did I see you slay an ogre, I also witnessed you riding a dragon and killing it all in one sodding hour."

"No you didn't," she said warmly, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, "If you were indeed conscious to witness it you might have gotten your facts straight."

"What?" Varric asked in a hazy bewildered voice as he raised an eyebrow.

"I slayed no dragon," Hawke said wolfishly.

"Bullshit," Varric said in annoyance.

"It's true. Fenris gave the killing blow," Hawke said smiling at the dwarf and winked at him, as if admitting defeat was suddenly a wise and rewarding choice. "I just stood there under the blighted beast's claw and almost drowned in the cascade of blood that fell onto my pretty face."

"That true, elf?" Varric asked as he turned his head to Fenris who was limping in search for the tooth himself. He gave Hawke a contained look and she nodded, seeming like the two exchanged a telepathic agreement.

"It is," Fenris said flatly, approaching them like a moving statue. "I was her knight in … darkened armour," he continued sarcastically.

"Well, wouldn't you want to be her knight in no armour whatsoever?" Varric muttered in annoyance, accidentally unmasking his friendly concern.

"Varric?"

"Yes, Hawke?"

"I found my tooth!" she said childishly and brought him a small piece of orichalcum.

Varric looked at her with the most confused face ever, "Is this some kind of joke I'm not supposed to get?"

"What? No. Anders, come stick it back into my stubborn mouth!" she shouted eagerly as she smiled.

"Hawke?"

"Yes, Varric?"

"That's a piece of rock," he said awkwardly, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't believe you," she said aggressively, narrowing her eyes.

"Hawke, are you alright?" Varric asked with a concerned look.

"Of course I'm alright," she said in an outrageous voice and frowned at him.

Fenris looked down with a guilty, haunted face. She was hazy and disoriented from all the mana and stamina withdrawal. That crazy, stubborn woman, always keeping her chin up even on the verge of death. That stupid, even he had to admit, honest woman who would have sacrificed all her energy on saving him even if he hadn't pushed her so determinedly into doing it. He felt inappropriate for making her do something she hated, but remained distracted and flabbergasted nonetheless, by the curious absence of pain from his markings even if the mage despised the act of doing so.

He was in denial, though. If he hadn't gathered up his remaining strength and rushed to plunge his sword into the dragon's throat, in a split second Hawke would have been dead and couldn't get any deader… unless she had another serpent up her sleeve. He pressed his eyes closed, amazed at how he had to think of such nonsense and keep his vigilance even in this situation, where they both almost died and both saved each other.

He walked over to the dragonling corpses and shoved them away from the death centre, as he calculated in his mind that this might have been the place where the tooth landed, and rightfully so. His guess was dead on. He picked up the tooth and approached her shyly, trying not to look her in the eyes, "Here it is."

"Oh," she said with a drunken smile, "There it is! Thank you, Father."

"Hawke, I'll ask this one more time – are you alright?" Varric almost shouted out of fear, as she was definitely seeing ghosts now.

"Of course I'm alright, Ser Dwarf. Thank you for the basilisk skin steel. You are a miracle worker!" she said courteously, in-between staggering from left to right.

"What's happening here?" Anders said while approaching the group.

"Hawke's not making any sense. She thinks Broody is her 'Father' and she called me 'Ser Dwarf', ugh," Varric said while gesturing towards her in annoyance.

"What?" Anders asked in outrage, being confused to no end.

"King Alistair! What a surprise, fancy meeting you here! Came back to gloat did you?" Hawke asked impertinently while dangling on her feet.

"She thinks I'm the king? This is worse than I thought," Anders said sighing and putting a hand over his forehead. He turned away quickly for his backpack.

"What the hell is happening here?" Varric shouted in outrage at Anders.

"I don't like this place, Father. It smells of lies and death," she said as she approached Fenris. "I know you're the expert and all but do we really need to linger here more than we need to?"

Fenris swallowed heavily and tried to think of what he could say so she wouldn't have some panic attack from whatever mental haze she was in.

"We will get out of here soon. I promise," he said chivalrously, trying not to inhale too heavily.

"You always say that and then you trick me into staying some more. You're such an evil old man," she said warmly, but frowning nonetheless.

"This is getting from kinda creepy to utterly abhorrent," Varric said anxiously, approaching Hawke.

"Enough of your tricks. I'm the taking the lead," Hawke said assertively, raising a fist up in the air. She started walking towards the giant stairs. Varric was flinching and shaking his head and gestured to Fenris to follow and stop her. She sensed the danger from instinct and turned to them with a drawn out sword.

"No more of your pointless checks, Father. Take your dwarf and leave me be," she said bitterly in a defensive position. "I'm out of here," she said flatly and turned away to walk.

"Andraste's purple sodding butt, what the hell are we supposed to do? Tie her down and gag her?" Varric asked in desperation, raising his hands in the air as a peace sign.

"What the hell is she doing?" Carver asked approaching them.

"Well, if you don't know, we've certainly hopped on the death boat of crazy and utterly ridiculous," Varric said sarcastically, looking at a disappearing Hawke and back at him in anxiety.

"Stop her!" Anders shouted as he came back from the dark hallway.

"How in the Void do you think we can stop her?" Varric shouted in anger, looking from person to person in frustration.

"Ugh, you're useless," Anders shouted back at him and ran towards the other hallway after the giant stairs where Hawke disappeared into. They all followed in a rush and Anders turned his head to them with a homicidal look as if telling them not to make any loud noises.

Anders rushed in silence towards the shadow that lingered after the left corner of the hallway. They hid back against the wall and after appearing to count something in his head, he gave away his position and walked in the open field, casting something quickly at the figure.

Hawke turned rapidly with her hand drawn in the air as if blocking the spell, but the light bumped into her barrier and ricocheted back to Anders with force, throwing him feet away and paralyzing him. They all assumed half-defensive, confused positions and looked at the mage.

"Holy Shit, this is way too crazy for my little brain," Varric said awkwardly, trying to mask the terror in his voice.

Fenris struck a giant frown and set out to run after her, not caring if he would be stricken down. Whatever magic she would be using, he would deflect most of it… unless hers was immune to his markings, by any ridiculous stretch of imagination. No, they didn't deflect it back then because she was well-intentioned, but whatever Hawke was now was clearly not a well-wishing puppy-eyed little woman. As he ran slowly and turned his lyrium glow on, tens of feet away he saw her collapse to the ground.

As she fell unconscious, the paralyzing haze that enveloped Anders faded away and Carver raised him up from the ground.

"Blondie, I don't know what the hell you're doing, but if you don't fix her, I'm going to kill you," Varric shouted self-determinedly, caught up in a fit of confusing rage.

Fenris's blood froze as he realized she could have been possessed by some spirit in these caverns in her weak state. He looked at Anders, then back at Hawke and remained paralyzed much like the mage was a minute ago, as his head was boiling with confusion and fear. He pressed his eyes closed and ran to her, getting on his knees and turning her face up. She looked peaceful again, a bright and warm face, just as she looked when he caught her sleeping in the armchair when she hid in her grandparents' mansion.

"Get away from her!" Anders shouted from afar, rushing towards them.

"No," he muttered self-assured, keeping a statue-like unaffected look.

"Fine, get killed, whatever, just let me examine her," Anders muttered in annoyance and got on his knees on the other side of her body opposite to where Fenris was staying.

"Wouldn't you get killed as well in this manner?" Fenris asked as he frowned to the mage incessantly.

"Shut up," Anders said self-assured and started casting a very soft, faint light into her chest. He exhaled in relief and turned his head to look for something in his pack.

"Don't just stand there mute, tell us what's going on!" Varric shouted at Anders, gesturing with his hands in the air.

"Give me a blighted minute!" Anders said in anger as he looked in his pocket.

"Now, Anders!" Fenris, Carver and Varric all shouted in a choir.

"I had to check if she was possessed, even if it seemed rather impossible," Anders muttered in annoyance and gave Fenris a narrow look as he finished the sentence.

"Then what is it?" Fenris asked fiercely, but keeping a low tone as not to unmask his frustration.

"Yeah, Blondie, tell us already. My patience is wearing thin and so is Bianca's, if you get my drift," Varric growled again.

"If you did something to her, you're dead, mage," Carver said with disgust as he pointed assaultively at him.

Anders sighed as he reached for some spindleweed and started stretching it above her head. "I keep forgetting she's a stubborn abstinent mage in self-denial, like a virgin taking a vow of bloody chastity," he said in an annoyed tone and continued, "She used up all her magic after she used up all her physical strength. This could have been her funeral."

"But she cast that spell, or redirected it at you or whatever," Varric said impatiently.

"Yeah, and that's what made her collapse. Mana regenerates slowly, but she didn't need a lot of it for that one… well, it was still something. I don't really get it," Anders said bewilderedly.

"So that mental breakdown she had was from an empty fuel, well, fuels?" Varric asked in a lower tone, starting to cool off.

"Yes. Templars act like this when they're in mana withdrawal, blurred vision, paranoid behaviour and hallucinating stuff. Mages don't go through this though, because our mana regenerates naturally, but she isn't your ordinary mage. She barely used any in years, much to her stupidity."

Fenris frowned at Anders' last words and muttered, "Forgive us for being uneducated, but how is that stupidity?"

"Because without practice, her mana goes haywires when being used. Using magic frequently strengthens mana regeneration, it makes us immune to the stuff Templars go through when they're out of it and basically teaches the body that mana is something that belongs to it naturally instead of being a foreign object that needs to be taken in. But even so, it's beyond my understanding how she could have gotten to this point. It's not so easy to burn all the mana you have to complete zero."

"But Hawke did practice magic on the way here. She played with the fire in camp and made dragons out of it," Fenris said while rolling his eyes at the last bit.

"Using two or three fireballs is nothing compared to powerful spells," Anders said as he reached in his pack again. "The question remains as to what powerful magic she used, because I certainly didn't see her using any."

"She shot a purple cloud in the dragon's mouth," Fenris said flatly, recalling the event. He was the only one still conscious to witness it.

Anders laughed, "One entropic cloud is not much to make her see ghosts."

Fenris looked down with guilt and pressed his lips together, trying not to let the words out, but it would have been irresponsible of him to keep a pointless secret.

"She healed me," he said calmly, remaining an expressive statue.

"What? Like one little healing spell for a scratch? I didn't see you dying or anything," Anders said laughing again.

"I had six giant wounds from being taken in and chewed by the dragon. You were playing dead at the time," Fenris said impertinently as he frowned at the mage.

"What? Are you crazy?" Anders shouted in anger at him. "You let her perform a massive healing spell on you? What in the Void were you thinking? I could have easily done that for you or why the hell am I even here?"

"Calm yourself, mage. You were healing the others at the time," Fenris said as he frowned, deflecting from the real reason Hawke had to do it.

"Right. Because usually I go by the logic of healing the least wounded and taking the worse cases last," Anders shouted sarcastically as he looked restlessly for something in his pack.

"You need something, Blondie?" Varric asked awkwardly, trying to cut in the boiling tension.

"Is it that obvious?" Anders asked sarcastically, ignoring the dwarf.

He rose from the ground and started looking frustrated in different directions. He walked over to a giant lyrium vein hanging amid a massive black rock formation and started melting some from a specific corner.

"This will hurt her but I don't have any potions lying around," Anders said as he walked back to the others.

Fenris struck a frown and instinctually held Hawke tighter and drew her closer to his chest as to defend her. "How exactly is this going to help?"

"She needs the lyrium. If I don't give it to her now she might wake up with her brains all messed up."

"And you know this so certainly?" Fenris asked calmly, but in a fit of suspicious anger.

"Well, I didn't exactly sign up for the Warrior Mages in Abstinence Guild to know for sure," Anders said sarcastically to Fenris. "For now, I have to treat her like a human Templar."

"Then how is this going to hurt her?" Carver shouted in frustration, holding his head so it wouldn't fall from terror.

"The lyrium is too raw. It will burn her throat and stomach and she will probably be in pain for a few days, maybe even make her cast spells accidentally without realizing it," Anders said bitterly, getting on his knees again near an unconscious Hawke. "Stop fidgeting so much, elf, she's not your dying wife and I'm only trying to help her here," Anders said aggressively to Fenris as he held stubbornly onto her armour.

"Give it to her already, Blondie. I'm starting to piss in my pants from this nightmare," Varric shouted at Anders approaching him.

"Hold her head," Anders told Fenris bitterly as he started pouring the lyrium into a bottle and then stuck it hermetically in her mouth. "As much as I want to punch you and kill you right now, you're the strongest one here. As soon as she starts getting agitated, restrain her," Anders said self-confidently to Fenris as he took the bottle out of Hawke's mouth.

"This is worse than anything I could imagine happening here," Varric said anxiously while watching Hawke with insistence.

"And all this could have been avoided if she weren't so stupid and helped this blighted dog," Anders said with a narrow look directed at Fenris.

Normally he would have argued that, but Fenris didn't have the right to, in this case. He couldn't deny that this was a dangerous move neither he nor Hawke knew would be so. He couldn't take comfort from the fact that she would have done it either way, however. As soon as he inhaled heavily, he watched Hawke with a tense look and prepared to hold her down.

As she started fidgeting and moving in pain, Fenris got a hold of her as strongly as he could. For all her clown mage physique he made fun of her for, she was tigerishly strong.

"Turn your damn glow bit on," Anders said as he backed away. "It will dispel any instinctual magic attempt."

Fenris nodded knightly at Anders and turned his lyrium markings on, as Carver rushed in frustration to hold her legs.

"She's gonna be alright after this, won't she, Blondie? Blondie!" Varric shouted at a haunted-looking Anders. He was hearing stuff again.

"I'll go take care of the lot," Carver said looking terrified. "You get a hold of her legs," he continued looking at Varric.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but – Ancestors guide us," Varric said as he sighed and replaced Carver.

"Come on, mage," Carver said bitterly as he looked at Anders. "Now, Anders!" he shouted.

"Just punch him," Fenris muttered angrily. Were they in a different, more peaceful situation he would have grinned all the way to Antiva while saying that.

"Right," Carver said bewilderedly and slapped Anders across the face. He woke up and they both ran across the giant hallway and turned right as the mage directed.

"Elf, just promise me you won't crush her or something," Varric said in concern, as he watched Fenris struggling to hold her immobilized.

She started to scream in pain and Fenris put a gauntlet over her mouth so no surprise could come their way. He growled in frustration and tried to hold her as strongly as he could with only one arm. She grabbed his weaker arm and stuck her gauntlet claw in his flesh. Fenris tried not to react and kept his firm grip on her.

"Her hands!" Varric screamed as she took her gauntlet out of Fenris's skin and formed a fireball that she struck randomly above them.

"Vishatta," Fenris shouted in anger as he took a hold of her hand again and firmly tied them together.

"She was right. Fuck the eighteen generations of my ancestors, I'm never coming to this pithole again," Varric muttered as he sat stubbornly on her legs since he couldn't hold them firmly with his hands.

"Seconded," Fenris said flatly, wishing he had three arms to stop the agonizing image of Hawke beneath his eyes.


Deep Roads, Day 6

"Maker's breath, that smell," Hawke muttered in disgust as she woke up in camp with her vision blurred out entirely. "Is that me?"

"Hawke!" Varric shouted as he ran to where they put her after Fenris and Carver carried her back to camp. It took a while, but she finally stopped with the fidgeting in pain and the panic attack that came along with it. She just succumbed back in deep sleep and they started pacing forward and backwards with impatience and anxiety no matter how much Anders tried to reason with them that she was going to be alright.

"I thought you already took your stupid vengeance with the trapping me and falling facedown into dirt last week," Hawke said frowning as she recognized the voice, but still couldn't see clearly.

"The spindleweed was all Anders this time," Varric said as he laughed in relief, "And it was necessary."

"Maker's soggy ass, why would you necessarily pour that sh.. that thing on my face?" she asked in outrage and started coughing as she felt the flaming burn in her throat.

"Oh, interesting. So you don't remember the whole deal with you going haywires and hallucinating then falling on your face in a fit of almost fatal exhaustion?" Varric said warmly, trying not to laugh so awkwardly.

She rose from her improvised bed, stumbling her leg over some medicinal crap potion that Anders probably placed by her side and Varric dexterously caught it before it shattered into tiny little crap potion pieces on the ground.

"I remember a lot of shouting and swearing in Tevinter, but not much else," she said while inappropriately smiling in this life or death situation.

"Let us jog your memory then," Varric said charmingly as he took a seat next to her. "So, it was dark and the wind blew viciously in a fit of deathly heat …"

"Long story short, Varric," Hawke said as she started frowning at him and took a hold of the back of her neck which hurt like a lion.

"Long story short, you wasted all your mana when you were already almost dead from exhaustion, you started seeing ghosts and became overly paranoid, drew your sword at us, ran, Anders tried to paralyze you but you reflected the spell onto him or something, you collapsed, then he stuck a pile of raw lyrium in your mouth and you started fidgeting like a maniac in pain and lastly, you fell asleep like the dead," Varric said rapidly, then caught his breath and remained amazed at how we said it.

"That all, huh?" Hawke said sarcastically, appearing unimpressed.

Through her blurry vision she saw a ghostly white-headed figure approaching her with a big black round thing in its hand. She pressed her eyes together then opened them again and the image started clearing just a bit.

"Good …morning, I suspect," Fenris said in a flat, contained and deep voice, pointing the sack of water towards her.

"It may be morning, but it isn't good," Hawke said sadly, growling softly at the pain at the back of her neck and in her stomach.

He frowned and shook the sack of water as for her to take it already and she gave him an amused smile."No, thank you. I don't want any more stuff going down my drain," she said stubbornly while looking at him and raising a palm in refusal.

Fenris remained a stubborn statue in front of Hawke. They started a silent staring match as he kept his knightly frown on her and his fastidious lips flinched shortly, "Take it or I'm going to hit you."

"You will? I'm feeling loved already," she said sarcastically, putting a hand on her heart area.

"Either stop putting yourself in danger or stop being so pseudo-independent," he said flatly, drawing a sensual grin as he used her own words to him from when he hurt his foot the day before.

"Yes, Sir," she said sarcastically and took the water in an impertinent, forceful way from his hands.

Hawke took a sip from the goatskin sack of water, but soon realized with every following one just how dehydrated she was. The warm threads of liquid brushed onto her insides softly, screaming for more nurturing than your usual drink. She stopped instinctually as not to waste a precious resource and gave it back to Fenris. The water worked miracles, so it seemed, as her vision started to become much clearer, the blur dissipating into a vivid image of a distinct, delightful sight.

But lying beyond the difference between who was now standing in front of her with an honourable, patient look and what became of him before she lost consciousness... only flashes darted in her eyes, cruel tricks of the mind or maybe memories tempered with. She saw the dragon's throat opening and spilling its guts on her face, but that was not the most terrifying, ultimately corollary picture her tired eyes had witnessed in that room. No, it was a truly malignant little flash of a sudden death.

Only it wasn't death, it was near death. She remembered now. Fenris thrown down against the wall, panting and growling in pain, full of blood dripping from his hair, his chest, his back. She needn't have tried to conceal herself from him. She knew she had to help him whatever it took. She couldn't truly think of his death now, it simply had the fullness of catastrophe. Maybe she was succumbing to a familiar weakness, that of not suffering the sight of torture or injustice, the senseless screams of the starving. She didn't know. Maybe she was being the common mortal, believing if she put a stop to all the mess, all the terror, the pain, then somehow the horror was under her command. Foolish endless desire to annul the darkness.

But there was more to it, maybe? Foolish desire, indeed. What she saw, what had distracted her, the presence, undeniably, it would come to a halt if she knew it for certain, but she didn't.

She just remembered the flashbacks, how his back was almost broken and shattered, how he moaned and stuttered. And for one harrowing split second the sounds he made were as terrible as the sound that came from the dying men she had seen in her past, only much more powerful. Other dying men... they were crushed like insects into the snow. But this was the picture of a strong presence, almost eternal-looking, that bled and panted horribly and was shrinking rapidly into a single small point that was being annihilated, out of her hands, that she couldn't allow. So she didn't.

She could almost smell the blood pumping and spilling out of him. As she healed him, for one heady moment she felt strong relief, security, obliterating every recollection of the horrors that had deformed her for so long. Every evil rapture, every small terror, seemed unreal. But then again, she'd doubt it all in a split second anyway. Maybe she felt profound joy, maybe she was enveloped in other much too similar ... fallacies.

But that so suspected "fallacy" stirred in Hawke, collecting strength and reason so fast to catch up with it and deny it even as it grew out of control. She knew it for what it was, in part - something monstrous and enormous, as unnatural to her as the sun was natural to the earth.

Fenris struck another of his eternal frowns, almost shimmering with inconvenience, or something of the sort... his usual contradictory inconvenience with her. The voice in Hawke's head had broken. His face was a miracle of seeming purity and awe, and it was standing in front her alive, which was good, so very good.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Fenris asked austerely, shaking his head as if in protest, such a colossal intrusion for her to look at him, as always.

"Your arm," she said with a concerned insistent look.

Across his left arm there was a deep and long cut and everywhere else he appeared swollen and bruised. His white hair glistened despite the dirt in it and his eyes burned like two dead things.

"What about it?" he asked serenely, not even looking at it.

Of course he would. Only a gigantic army of slavers and magisters would have thrown him off in the face of danger. Not this, not much else. He just stood there like a true soldier, unperturbed, in complete awareness of his state. Probably refused Anders a hundred times and barked to let him be.

"Forgive me for my oh, so very rude prying, but I don't remember leaving you in such a grotesque state," Hawke said in self-denial, trying to find answers she already suspected.

He seemed tired and beaten, yet his beauty held sway. He didn't need the shadows of the Deep Roads or some torchlight in the camp to flatter him. And there was a fierceness in him in those torchlights that she hadn't seen before. She felt more fear at that moment than ever during the earlier battles and arguments, and she hated those who made her feel fear.

He hesitated and looked the other way. "Take a walk with me," he said undauntedly, ignoring her question.

"Uh, odd," Hawke said as she frowned in suspicion.

"I think we've already gone past the point of distrust," Fenris said in a deep determined voice, without moving a finger.

"Fine," she sneered, and got up from her sleeping place.

They walked out of camp well-prepared for venturing any minute, nevertheless. Fenris strolled nonchalantly along the red and blue lyrium veins on the giant rock formations and as soon as Hawke wanted to say something, he turned to her with a blank, but tigerish look.

"I owe you an apology," he said chivalrously as he looked down, then back up, but not directly at her.

"Might wanna look me in the eye when you try to make it sound genuine, next time," Hawke said self-assured, crossing her arms and grinning.

"Why would I even bother to make the effort of wasting my daily word count, if I hadn't meant it?" Fenris asked her as he struck a colossal frown, his head starting to hurt from yet another setback in their stupid freakshow relationship. In all honesty, what did he do wrong now, except the only thing he was apologizing for, anyway?

"You're not a liar, not a contemptible one at least, but you're not exactly sure what you're apologizing for, are you?" Hawke said as she gave a short warm laugh and eyed him deeply.

"Your collapse would have been avoided, had I not stubbornly asked you to kill all your reserves on me. The reason is quite clear and the apology horribly simple in its intent. Is that not enough?" he said between his teeth, looking at her directly now. She just had to stand there and overexamine him, be paranoid and stubborn. Yet again, he would be a hypocrite to demean her because of her instincts. He had the same blind instinct.

She ignored his explanation and kept her eyes insistently at his wound. "I did that to you, didn't I?"

He looked down and hesitated, remembering the agonizing image of her agitated, hitting and scratching him and screaming.

"Oh, well, maybe you should just be praying that I don't do it again. For I would have done it either way. The healing you I mean, not the wounding you part," she said. She stepped around him and stretched our her arms to him. "Face it, I'm a sucker for doing the right thing," she said as she drew an awkward, almost sad smile.

And there it was. That stupid, stubborn woman who just couldn't let him, or anyone else, die, before she did. Why must he argue about this with her or with himself, though? The impending reason to what became of him that she had to heal him was that he put a sword through a beast so it wouldn't crush her, despite his exhaustion, despite the last bits of life he had in his bones. Wasn't it ultimately the same? Bah, she didn't have to use her stratagems to make him brood anymore - he was volunteering, all while becoming excellent at it.

He hesitated, but refused himself to conceal his one clear opinion. "I'm becoming more and more certain that you are indeed, going to do it again," he said as he started to draw a genuine, broad smile.

"Seems you've figured me out already, haven't you?" she said as she brushed her stubborn bits of hair away from her face.

"On the contrary," he said knightly, shaking his head and keeping his smile.

Her eyes rolled from his head to his feet and back into his own sensual, tortured gaze, "Close your eyes," she said, nodding only once in a military way, not letting her smile leak too much eagerness.

He hesitated yet again and looked the other way, his reason losing function, but holding on to a familiar security, "Why?"

"Oh, I think we've already gone past the point of distrust," she said unyielding, using his own argument against him yet again. She approached him in silence and kept an austere, but warm look.

He gave a small contained laugh, "Is that an order?"

"Yes," she said self-determined.

He wished she hadn't said it so abruptly, brought it so to the point, yet he didn't actually know what she was going to do. That was Hawke, assuring your safety, making you let your guard down after all the arguments and tension ceased. But he nodded and his lips pressed together in a bitter smile.

Heartbreakingly innocent he seemed in the dark midst of the hallway, as he nodded politely and closed his eyes. The hallway was fatally silent and barren, like it was whispering some ancient language that welcomed death. It was like the Veil shifted and it ached for death as death was passing through it.

But the split second he felt the foreign energy going through his veins, in his left arm and slowly dissipating through every swollen and bruised area, his flinching face had suddenly smoothed out as if some shock had robbed it of expression. He succumbed into the mending light and remained a statue, because if he had allowed himself to think of anything else, do anything else, it would have all but crushed him with endless questions, paranoia, distrust, the blind instinct.

But the place didn't ache for death, or at least he wasn't. It just smelled of vegetal and was filled with fresh, breathable air.

"Thank you," he said as he opened his eyes. "That was …"

She nodded, but she looked miserable, and as luck would have it, beautiful, too. "I rather thought so," she said. "But I didn't think you would agree."

"Whether I agree or not, does not really have an effect on a deed already done," he said defensively as he looked away.

"Is that your Qunari way of deflecting from seeing eye to eye with me? Literally, even?" she said as she grinned a bit too differently than the usual way.

His eyes flinched with a slight lift to his eyebrows. He was at a loss for words and appeared as if he just realized something.

She shook her head in amusement and crossed her arms. "Well, at least it's something to ponder on," she said warmly and proceeded to walk way.


Deep Roads, Day 8

"Oh I swear I'm gonna find that son-of-a-bitch – sorry, Mother, - and I will kill him!" Varric shouted in a fit of extreme rage, as Bartrand walked away from the other side of the sealed door.

"Rest assured, I'll have his head by morning," Hawke said in a determined voice, raising her fists.

Hawke's dedicated promise soothed Varric's exploding heat, because he sighed in relief and emptied out his boiling mind. "Let's just hope we can find a way out of here."

"All roads lead to Minrathous," she recited courteously, but soon realized she was offending at least two people there with that quote. "Sorry," she said awkwardly, looking at a frowning Varric and Fenris. "What I meant was, uh – "

"Save it, Pantaloons," Varric cut her quickly.

As they came into another giant room and saw Hawke swallow heavily, Fenris quickly drew his sword and went for the shades that started emerging from the stone. The group split in the two opposing rows of stairs. A rough haze started vibrating around his ears, as he recalled having seen something lying in the distance that was foreign and indistinguishable. He looked in the distance again only to see Hawke, followed by Carver, go right into the middle of a grotesque horde of animated rock formations.

"Hawke, what the hell are you doing?" Varric screamed as he slided off the stairs and started shooting fire arrows at the group.

She whirlwound and distanced the rock wraiths from one another as Carver slew them one by one. That was the most the group saw of her and her brother communicating, indirectly nevertheless, as the last few days since the "you're dead to me" fiasco, Hawke seemed to have really meant it.

"Bloody stone, what were those things?" Varric muttered in annoyance.

"Giant rocks that were so bored of lying around and watching darkspawn get all the applauses, they decided to come to life and invite us for tea and cakes?" Hawke said sarcastically as he put her sword back in its back holder.

"They were supposed to be dwarven legends. Holy sodding Mother of Green Cheeses, first an ogre, then a dragon, then you going psycho, add that flaming bloody bastard of a brother betraying us and now this? Remind me never to listen to my intuition again, Hawke."

"But your intuition was good, Varric. Had you come here without us, who knows in what kind of belly of a beast you would be drowning in with acid and calling for your ancestors right now?" she said warmly and reassuringly.

"Hmph, good point," Varric said as he felt the urge to pat her on the back, had he been taller. "I swear, Hawke, if we get out of here alive, you can smash all the human-devouring tables in the world, for all I care, I'm putting all of Kirkwall on my tab for you."

"You really know how to see the bigger picture, don't you? That's why you're such a good storyteller, isn't it?" Hawke said warmly as she slowed down to pat him on the back.

"It's the master's tactful mix of foreseeing the larger scheme of things by making use of the small, deeply unnoticed subtleties that makes them so great," Varric said self-assured, holding charmingly onto his jacket.

"Oh, I love it when you go all philosophical. Makes my ladyparts all dazed and confused," Hawke said sarcastically, but in a deep provocative voice. It was astonishing how she could make light of a serious situation and become as inappropriate as a dirty old mule pissing on a golden rug in the king's throne room.

They got into a massive room with curious looking pillars, grand structures and… more rock wraiths. As they battled the hordes yet again, Hawke went too far, as always, and took care of the ranged whores by herself. Fenris sought to follow her in fear of her going hot-headed haywires again, but quickly ducked down under the rock wraiths as they grouped up against him. Carver was probably annoyed to the deepest pit of the Void by his sister, because he started to put on a show and recklessly went into the group. Fenris got up and pushed him aside forcefully before he could get his head severed.

"Enough," a rock formation said commandingly as it came out of the ground. "You have proven your mettle. I would not see these creatures harmed without need."

"These creatures? A much too practical manner of referring to your own kind," Hawke said assertively, stepping further towards the figure. "And I say being attacked gives us plenty of need."

"They will not assault you further, not without my permission," the rock wraith said unperturbed.

"What in the Void were those things?" Varric asked enraged.

"They hunger," the creature said flatly. "The prophane have lingered here for time beyond memory, feeding on the stones until the need is all they know," it whispered fearsomely.

"They eat the lyrium? Sounds like a healthy diet," Hawke said sarcastically, as she looked around the room. Giant red lyrium veins were adorning every pillar and the blue shimmering in the distance was giving the whole place a grand aura of mystique and death.

"I am not as they are, I am … a visitor," the creature whispered.

"Well that's a fancy way to put it. Seen one desire demon, seen'em all," Hawke said sarcastically as she narrowed her gaze.

"I would not see my feast end. I sense your desire, you wish to leave this place, but you need my aid to do so," the wraith started commandingly.

"Don't do it," Anders whispered to Hawke.

"What are our options?" Varric asked in a confused tone. For all the crazy they saw here, this actually seemed pretty unimpressive, he suspected.

After the creature explained why they needed its help in a most ghostly manner possible, Hawke shook her head and sighed. "You deal with demons and then it all goes downhill from there… Sorry, Ser Wraith, we're going to find our own way."

"Most unwise," the creature said sharply.

"Why? Are you going to attack us while we yielded our swords down on you?"

"I sense what you are. You have the red things flowing inside of you," the creature said in a faint voice.

"You can start making sense any time now," Hawke said as she raised an eyebrow.

"You hunger," the wraith whispered with all the searing sharpness of an accusation. She felt the creature's energy, it was a presence as venomous and seemingly overpowering as a clear-cut open chest wound in front of the flame.

"Oh, I'm starving," Hawke said sarcastically, as she drew her sword and killed the hideous beast.

They went into the vault, a giant circular formation with the same red lyrium pillars as the previous room. A sharp, distinct vibration flowed in Hawke's veins as she felt the Veil crumble around her.

"This is not good," Hawke said bitterly as she drew her sword out.

The one little possessed rock wraith now seemed like a malnourished poor little kitten compared to the grand stones that were drawn magnetically together into a massive creature formation revolving around a red skeletal haze. A dozen rock wraiths emerged from the ground and shot ranged electric shocks at every one of them.

"Anders, whatever you do – do not, I repeat, do not heal Fenris. Stay away and take care of the rest, do not waste your mana and put on a show," Hawke said sharply with a dead straight face, as she approached him. He nodded silently and ran in a corner, shooting small pointless fireballs at the monster.

They battled it for what seemed like decades. It was almost useless to attack, as the being could quickly deform and reemerge somewhere else, making them waste their energy and become weary to the point of dying out of sheer exhaustion. Hawke kept taunting everything in sight and whenever anything came too close she'd shove them away with her sword to play with them. As for the giant monster, well, it seemed to barricade itself with its own rocks as it came down and started absorbing and channelling dark waves of energy inside its skeletal centre, only to get back up and explode in a magnetic forcefield.

Fenris's head was throbbing from the electricity damage. The more he ran and slashed, the less he could see clearly. When the rock demon first channelled its force and blew up, he screamed at everybody to hide behind a specific pillar which blocked the wave's trajectory entirely. More so than that, he had to drag Carver away as he put on airs and didn't pay attention to the larger scheme of things.

Varric feigned his death or so it appeared, while Anders and Carver were both shoved into some rocks and lost consciousness. Hawke's head was exploding from adrenaline and she made a halt into the thing, but it quickly blew her away and threw her into a wall. Fenris screamed after her and turned his glow harder, but that made the beast go after him with fury. Maybe the demon was striving for his lyrium markings, which made it even more bloody inconvenient.

Unless… what a marvellous devious plan, he constructed, if they could have even been able to pull it off. He started running in the opposite side of the room with the wraith going after him, dismembering itself and going for the farthest end. Before the giant could reemerge again, he would simply change direction every time and it would wake up with him being in the opposite part of the room again. He pulled this stunt restlessly, as he was losing the ability to see and his markings started to burn horrifically bad. He was waiting for Hawke to wake up.

And she did. She came out of her weary haze and rapidly eyed the trick that Fenris was doing on the monster. She quickly heard the voice of her father making fun of her with his endless The closer you think you are, the less you actually see, and a sharp little idea tickled her tired brain.

She ran to Anders's pack and poured a bottle of raw melted lyrium into her mouth, which burned her throat like ten shots of whiskey taken in at the same time.

She charged all her energy and stood prepared as the beast dismembered itself again. She waved her hands as to form two wings in the air and the magnetic waves of the monster clashed with her own. They repelled each other and the rocks started falling in different directions as the skeletal being remained unprotected. Fenris went right into it and slashed, then quickly jumped away as the rocks came back to revolve around it. They did this a few times, until the beast started pulling them in and they fell on the ground, being dragged to its centre.

Fenris grabbed onto a rock formation and held onto it so he wouldn't be dragged away. He saw Hawke slide right beside him quickly and he instinctually grabbed her hand. He held onto her as strongly as he could, as his eyes starting wearing off and he could only see a blur of red and white and heard Hawke gasping and panting.

His heart stopped as Hawke's gauntlet slipped away from his grip and he tigerishly succeeded to grab it again in a split second.

He growled and turned off his markings, the pain being too much to bear. An infinity of tiny shards and storms of dust were darting at his face and his grip became looser onto the rock he was holding on. His hand slid away and he thrust his claws into the ground. He held onto Hawke's hand tightly and wished he wasn't just gripping onto a severed half of her.

In the blur of red, grey and white, he heard her scream at him to let go.

Vishante kaffas, fasta efututo ardenta daemonium, venhedis omniem creatorem et illa femina stulta et rabiosa.* Let go? Just so simple as that, let go, let her die. She was an insane and contemptible martyr.

(Something roughly translated to : Burn in hell, fucked up flaming demon, damn all the creators and that stupid crazy woman)

"Let go, you flaming idiot, just sodding trust me," he heard her scream in a very determined and fiercely commanding tone.

He pressed his eyes together, growled and let go of her hand. She disappeared in the red haze and he couldn't see for shit what was going on anymore.

Me paenitet, festis tuio ipse kanavurat. (*I'm sorry, I was the death of you)

In a halt of a second the earth shook heavily and his bits and pieces of his vision started to shatter and stir, but all while becoming clearer from the adrenaline and the shock in his veins. The rocks fell to the ground and he could see a human figure being encircled by dark waves.

He rushed up from the ground and held onto the pommel of his sword in terror, as he saw Hawke wrap her arms around her chest with her eyes closed, enveloped by shades or red and black that dissipated way, as if she shoved them away with strong rancor into non-existence.

"Now, Fenris!" she screamed in a hoarse voice. He rushed to the beast and plunged his sword into the deformed skeletal centre as she jumped out of the killing zone and succumbed into unconsciousness.

That vile little minx… she shook the demon with her repelling force waves to disorient it as it wasted its powers and hunger for Fenris's lyrium again. And the closer he got to it, it would agitate itself even more in a craze of starvation, having the thing it needed reek of the stuff . The lust would only mesmerize it even more. You are what you eat suddenly received a totally new meaning.

He rose from the ground and kicked the rocks away from his path as he limped towards Hawke, thanking whatever existing or invented god there was that this wasn't the end. He went for a red lyrium vein, but stopped his breathing as he felt fear slowing him down. Anders used blue lyrium. He looked around desperately and remained controlled, eyeing a small blue lyrium… bush, in a dark corner. He punched the lyrium out of it and shoved it into the one of the remaining fires Anders had thrown and that were burning the insides of the soulless rock wraiths. He held the solid lyrium as much above the flame as he could, for he feared what demonic hungry energy would corrupt it, but he had no choice.

"Fenris," he heard Hawke's ghostly hoarse voice stutter nearby. He turned around. "No."

"Don't you need it?" he shouted in anger, confused to no end and feeling his legs tremble.

"No. I'm fine, please…" she muttered in a husky voice as she held onto her stomach and tried to drag herself closer to a wall. "I can't do it," she said as she coughed and rested her back against the wall.

His head was throbbing in desperation. He didn't get any of it and he almost burned himself as he stopped paying attention to the lyrium stone he was holding.

"Don't play games with me, Hawke," he shouted rapidly in anger, "Are you dying or not?"

She coughed again heavily and brushed her forehead with the front of her hand. She shoved the gauntlet out and put her hand on her head and kept panting.

"Of course I'm not dying," she muttered quietly in a husky voice and Fenris could have sworn he saw a ghost of a contained, fierce grin beneath the hair that was hiding her face. She inhaled heavily and appeared to stop breathing, but she quickly spat blood and placed her hands above her bent knees. "Are you?"

"Evidently not," he said in an annoyed, assaultive tone and started to approach her. Whatever pain she was in, it was no simple shock with a few sprinkles of agony. She resisted and kept her controlled posture all while probably exploding from pain and burns inside.

"Go look at the others," she said in a determined voice, pointing at the other side of the room. She continued panting and placed her head between her knees in order to regain full control and awareness.


Deep Roads, Day 11

"So, Fenris," Hawke said awkwardly as she sat next to him in the improvised camp. "Seems like a particular kind of crazy keeps poking at us with a stick."

"It appears so," Fenris said flatly, "Or maybe it pokes at us with a large bat, seeing as how it keeps making the poor decision of choosing us as its dignified beheaders."

She looked down and smiled, as if she enjoyed a private joke inside, "It probably wasn't so bad as the trouble I gave you when I went all hot-headed crazy lady in mana withdrawal."

"It seemed as an appropriate punishment at the time, for lack of a better word," he said looking away, but quickly turned his head to face her, "But you made it go away… yet again," he said as he lifted his eyebrows in a friendly look.

"Hm. I should do this more often. That and tell tragic poet jokes. They seem to be the only ways I could get a smile out of you."

"Getting me out of this forsaken hole will get you the master prize," he said nonchalantly as he started eating the deep mushroom stew Anders made.

"Oh, what's the master prize?" she asked eagerly and started grinning.

"Fulfil your end of the deal and find out," he said firmly and unperturbed, without looking at her.

"What a giant flaming snake you are," she said narrowing her eyes and keeping her grin. You're building up the suspense to make me work for it, aren't you?" She looked away in the distance. "Well, it better be worth it."

"I'm not divulging anything until the deed is done," he said, containing his smile.

"Blighted teaser," she said half-bitterly.


Deep Roads, Day 13

"Fenkis the Brave McCuckoo-doodle-doo," Hawke said in-between panting out of laughter. They were all playing a made-up game, basically requiring each of them to invent insulting names and give onto others, then their turn would come.

"Stumpy The Uppity O'Downhere," Fenris intoned dramatically as he looked at Varric.

"Pussinboots The Conjurer McFrostitute," Varric said charmingly to Anders.

"Fabio The Manbeardog Forofor…son," Anders said in-between laughs looking at Carver.

"Ok, next round," Hawke said in an amused state. "Fenris, you start. No more Clownhawka'honka or anything that has clown in it, at least, I beg you."

"Hm," he said as he caressed his maxillary with a devious look.

"Come on, Fenris. You can't offend me… more than you have already."

"Alright, then. Priscilla Tuffpants McTrollmage," he said with a sensual grin.

"Ser Hotpockets McKittenmittens, The Wizard of Snowballs," Hawke said to Anders.

"Baldchin Pipsquick McCantreach," Anders said to Varric.

"Captain Blueberry Muffintop O'Hitmyself" Varric said to Carver.

"Oh I got one, I got one!" Hawke said chilsidhly, "Please let me, I'm exploding!"

"Fine, go ahead, Sister," Carver said as he frowned a bit.

"Ser Fluffhead The Porcupine Mister Fister," she said, gesturing dramatically.

"Oh, that was a good one," Varric said in-between panting.


What can ya do in the Deep Roads then invent snark games... calm before the storm, anyway. I'm almost pissing my pants thinking how much creative freedom I'll have as soon as they get out! :D Please review or criticize away!