"And what exactly do you want me to do about it?" Aveline raised an eyebrow in question. She didn't appreciate her authority being questioned, especially not in her own office.

"I'm just saying we've not heard anything, perhaps it would be wise for us to go and see for ourselves?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Sebastian, I have a city to keep in order."

"From what you've told me, this affects the city directly. If anything has happened we're better off knowing sooner than later…" The archer had known that Aveline would be difficult to move, but he had not anticipated such resistance from Hawke's oldest friend.

"If you're so concerned why didn't you go with them in the first place?" The Guard Captain asked in irritation.

"You know why… Her Grace herself asked a favour of me."

"Exactly. You had to put your duties first, and so do I. Don't think for one second I'm not as worried as you are, but I can't abandon my post without good reason…"

The door to the office flung open and standing in the frame was an armoured man.

Aveline caught Sebastian's gaze as she stood, and the would-be prince struggled to hide his smirk at her barely masked annoyance… yet it faded to panic as she took in the sight of the fine Ferelden armour, signature of the Warden King's guards. He collapsed in the doorway, bloodied and gasping for air. The two rushed to the man's side. His injuries seemed only minor. Aveline sighed, "Well, looks like I've got a reason." She put the fallen guard's arm around her neck as she and Sebastian helped him to stand. "In your own time, son."

…..

"Fasta Vass! What's taking them so long?"

"You asked me that roughly five minutes ago…" Anders snapped, "and funnily enough… I still don't know…"

"They're probably still checking the corridors… Isabella was sure something was moving down there." Merrill cut in to diffuse the obvious tension.

"Yes, thank you. Because I wasn't standing right here when all of that was said." The swordsman replied sarcastically.

"You don't need to take it out on Merrill."

"Thank you, Anders. By the way… when are you going to start carrying Lightning around…?"

"…Shut up, Merrill."

"A mage and a hypocrite?" Fenris muttered.

"I got him for you, Anders… but you won't take him with you… I think you're starting to hurt his feelings."

Anders was torn between who to answer back first. He glanced at Donnic, looking for support, but the guardsman just held up his hands, shrugged and shook his head. "It's a rat, Merrill, rats don't have feelings," he sighed.

"Ahhh, so you're able to delve into the psychology of vermin but you can't hazard a guess at what's been scurrying around ahead of us…?"

"I'm a mage not a psychic." He turned on Fenris.

"So your connection to rats is purely empathic, then?" The swordsman retorted.

"Oh, give it a rest…" His voice trailed off and Fenris frowned at the blonde mage in concern.

The blighted blood had suddenly flared in Anders' veins; his head swam... so many images crashing into each other, merging in his head. Anders hunched over, trying to catch his breath and regain some composure.

As the visions played out, he tried to make some sense of them. This was not a sensation he had ever experienced in all his time in the Deep Roads. It was not darkspawn he could sense… but something tainted nonetheless. Something he was familiar with, but wasn't accustomed to. At least not since he left the wardens…..

No. How would that even make sense?

"Stay out of the way!" He heard Fenris bark. Assumedly to Merrill.

As Anders senses returned, he became aware of Fenris in front of him, and the crashing of steel on steel. The light behind him told him that Merrill was casting, and he could see Donnic moving out of the corner of his eye. How could the darkspawn have attacked without him sensing them first? Anders staggered to his feet, preparing himself for the battle.

But he couldn't see any darkspawn. He saw only small, stocky, shadowed figures… he had seen this smoke effect before… Varric created it with a special bolt he used…

Maker… they were dwarves?!

Yet Anders did not have time to contemplate. He pulled his magic forward and began the fight.

"Rivaini… are you sure you heard something this deep in… I thought you said the shuffling wasn't more than thirty feet away?" Varric queried, although the way the tunnel twisted and coiled on itself was misleading, they must have walked more than that distance by now.

"It was. It was must have heard us coming and made a run for it..."

"Or disappeared into one of those warrens that we never notice until it's too late…" The dwarf sighed, returning Bianca to her holster on his back.

Isabella growled in frustration, "Shifty bastards. Darkspawn… dwarves… whatever they are, they could give Castillon a run for his money." Varric studied her stance; she seemed deflated as she looked further down the tunnel and sheathed her knives.

"Hey, Rivaini… riddle me something."

"I make no promises."

"Why chase the elf when you know how Hawke…"

Isabella gave a load groan of exasperation. "Not this again… it's just rutting… and it's not like those markings spell out Hawke's name."

"You don't feel bad at all…?"

"No…." She answered quickly, "well… maybe a little."

"Thought so…" The dwarf chuckled as they turned to make their way back.

"Hmmm… by the way, Varric, if you tell anyone what I have just divulged, I will deny all knowledge."

"Not a word shall pass these lips, Rivaini."

"Good. Oh, and Varric…" Isabella cocked her head and gestured a direction with her eyes.

Varric sighed a smile at the pirate and nodded. He found it a little patronising that she had felt the need to point out their audience, but the Rivaini was undoubtedly used to working with individuals where it was necessary.

"I see them, Rivaini." His hand moved to Bianca, as Isabella's did to her blades.

"Remember, if we kill them… we get their stuff."

"Got that, Rivaini… one, two three…"

The rogues moved swiftly. Their would-be ambushers were more than surprised by the speed and skill of their quarry, and soon found themselves on the defensive. Faced with the combined fury of a frustrated pirate and a very angry Bianca, there was little they could do other than fall back as they watched their brethren fall down.

Within seconds, the tunnel echoed with the thundering of armoured boots fleeing into the darkness. Varric returned the bolt he was holding to its quiver and glanced at Isabella, who shrugged when she caught his gaze. "I've had more fun distractions…"

"But what was it distracting us from, I wonder."

"Beats me," the dark haired rogue made her way towards one of the fallen corpses to claim her loot. "All I can say is they'll have to do better than that to get the jump on me…" She knelt beside the figure.

"Hmmm, it didn't look like they were used to surprises… at least ones they haven't sprung themselves."

"Well, at least we know you were right about one thing…?"

Varric chuckled, "I'm right about lots of things, Rivaini… but which one in particular are you referring to?"

Isabella grabbed the corpse by the collar and pulled it towards her so that Varric could get a better look. "They're dwarves… with funny eyes and blue skin… apparently…"

Varric joined her study. "Signs of darkspawn corruption. And once again, the plot thickens…"

"Well, we've given them reason to pause from assaulting us further… should we get back?"

"Let's have a look around to see what if we can find anything else…"

"But if these… things… attack…"

"Please, Rivaini... these things are practically darkspawn, and Blondie's a Grey Warden" The dwarf chuckled at Isabella's concern, "I don't think they'll be able to sneak up on…."

"Fine. You're probably right anyway."

"I am always right." He grinned.

…..

"Fenris! Get down!" Anders sent the fireball hurtling towards the elf's opponent, though the swordsman was also knocked back in the process.

"Venehedis mage! You nearly took my head off!" Fenris surged to his feet angrily.

"I told you to get down!"

"I didn't need to 'get down'; I needed to 'get back'!"

"Honestly, Fenris, I can't think of a single reason I would want to take your head off… oh no, wait. Yes I can…"

"Just keep your magic to yourself."

"What can I say? I apologise for saving your life?"

"You didn't save my life; I am capable of defending myself without need of your interference."

"I'll be sure to tell Hawke that when I present you to her… in a box."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, you arse … it's…"

"Melana sahlin!"

Both men were flung to the ground.

"Merrill there's not even any blighted enemies left!" Anders roared.

"Oh… sorry…" She giggled nervously as she lowered her staff, "I got a bit carried away there."

"I'd suggest you make sure it doesn't happen again." Fenris grumbled as he got back to his feet once more.

"Is it just me… or were they very strange darkspawn?" Merrill ignored the swordsman's glare.

"They weren't darkspawn. Varric was right, they're dwarves…" Anders sighed.

"A convenient excuse for not sensing creatures obviously filled to the eyeballs with tainted blood… But at least now the enemy has shown itself. We will be prepared next time."

"Do you think Hawke knows about these… dwarf darkspawn things, yet?" The dark haired mage asked.

Hawke.

Fenris closed his eyes, allowing images of the woman to flood his mind; whenever he pictured her she was smiling… But he supposed that that was because he had never seen her not smiling… With the exception, of course, of that night. Recalling the hurt in her eyes - and knowing that it was his fault - made Fenris feel sick.

He didn't want to be the one to make her look like that, the one to make Hawke sad. He wanted to be the one to make her happy.

The thought of losing that chance to the darkness around them made Fenris ache.

He couldn't let that happen…

….

"Oh come on… we need to do something to keep our spirits up."

"I just think that singing '99 Mages Escape from the Tower' is a little offensive."

"It's not that offensive."

"99 mages escape from the tower, 99 mages escape. The First Enchanter- what a wanker- let 99 mages escape from the tower.'"

"Well…. Yes, I suppose it is a little inappropriate…" he cleared his throat, "what about 'The Revered Mother…. Has only got one….'"

"NEXT!"

"You're no fun." Alistair accused in a childish voice.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Not wanting to sing obscene songs when we're lost underground is not the definition of being 'no fun'."

"Well, it should be."

"Really? Wanting to sing offensive songs when we're alone in the dark is your idea of a wild party?"

"You know, you do have a point… we could be doing other things…" The shift in tone in the King's voice made Hawke simultaneously suspicious yet oddly curious.

"Other things…?"

"Well, you've pointed it out… we're all alone, in the dark…"

Hawke crossed her arms. "Just what are you getting at?"

"Weeeell… we could play strip poker…. Ironically."

Hawke couldn't fight the smile. "Have those pick-up lines ever worked before?"

"No, they have not."

"That doesn't surprise me. It would take someone really special to understand you…"

Alistair laughed. "You know I think you could be right…"She smiled back and Alistair met her gaze. He gave a large and very audible sigh. The King felt his cheeks burn.

"What was that?" Hawke teased.

"It was a yawn!" He lied.

"It was a sigh." She corrected.

"Well, yes… alright… maybe it was. But there's nothing wrong with sighing when you're looking at something beautiful, right?"

Hawke's laughter stopped.

"Better line?" Alistair asked hopefully.

"Much better line."

Hawke found that she couldn't stop herself smiling. Maker! What was wrong with her? Not content with being rejected by the one person who she thought understood her; she was now developing romantic feelings for a Royal Ferelden simpleton? He was so different to Fenris… whereas Fenris had tried to show affection through a softened demeanour; Alistair just said what he felt.

It was clumsy, but it was warm.

"You know, Alistair…"

"Yes?" He asked softly.

"I don't know what's going on here, but is it… anything…?" She all but choked out the words. Hawke was nervous, and given how her most recent attempt at unveiling her feelings had gone, she felt that her shaking voice was more than justified.

"I'm not sure… it's not really like I've got much experience to call upon."

"Join the club."

"But… yes, I think that 'yes' is the answer."

Hawke's heart slowed as she breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. "Good to know."

"Yes… right… well now that I'm so embarrassed that my ears are blushing let's…"

There was a whistle and a bang. Hawke opened her eyes in panic. She could make out figures emerging from the mist and a slight green hue to the gas that surrounded them. She remembered Varric using something similar. Sleeping gas?

"Don't breathe it in, Alistair!"

But he had already charged into the fumes. It didn't take long for him to become completely overwhelmed by the gas and the stout shadowy creatures. He slumped to the ground.

Hawke sucked in a breath and held it as she rushed into the midst of the battle to aid the fallen man. She wouldn't let them have him. Whatever they were… she would not let him down.

Hawke had lost sight of their attackers. Another trap? Hawke's blood ran cold, but she did not slow her run.

The swordswoman didn't know where it came from, but a dark figure burst into her vision; there was a pressure against her breastplate and Hawke was thrown back, just clear of the gas.

Hawke spluttered as she rolled onto her front to push herself to her feet.

She would save Alistair.

Hawke gasped for air when one of the bastards kicked her in the stomach, making her drop to the ground once more. She could see where her sword had landed, she would need to move quickly to retrieve it. Hawke tensed preparing herself for the charge.

But a weight on her back pinned her to the ground. "Give up, girl, there are three blades ready to slice up your friend. He'll live only if you surrender."

Hawke's heart leapt into her throat. That twisted, gravelly voice turned her blood to ice… almost as much as the thought of being at this creature's mercy. But she needed to make sure Alistair was safe. She had no choice.

Shit.

"Swear it." She demanded between gritted teeth.

"… You have my word."