AN: Alright this chapter is pretty messy, I'll admit. And it might feel a bit rushed but hear me out; I have SO much planned for this story now and I just couldn't waste any more time in the blighted deep roads!

So enjoy! And let me know what you think,

-Ms.P

"And you're sure that you don't need any healing?" Hawke waved Anders off, holding the dirty cloth over her nose. The man had been shadowing her ever since she woke up from being tossed around by that spider. Of course Bartrand's betrayal and the appearance of these profane things- pain-in-the-ass things would be a better name for them, in Hawke's opinion- had done nothing to lessen the mage's already frayed nerves. But she wasn't made of glass.

"I promise; I'll be fine. I've broken my nose before- it's nothing I haven't dealt with. Though the burn scar might be a bit nasty."

"Right across your pretty nose, Lady Hawke." Isabela smirked while she loaded what little space she had in her pack with the jewels and artifacts from the monster's horde. Thank the Maker Sebastian suggested bringing along extra rations before they left camp earlier that day- else the hike back up the surface would be filled with deafening tummy rumbles. Or starvation; however you wanted to look at it.

"I can deal with a scar," Hawke muttered, tossing a shiny looking clan pin into her pack, "I think it'll be my mother who's most upset. Take me down a few more pegs on the marriageable chart- past my "murdering ways" of course."

The pirate snorted, "I think your murdering ways will be a little upstaged by the heaps of gold and priceless artifacts you lug through the door."

"Point." The rogue tossed her a smile before examining an intricately carved statuette, jewels embedded up and down the sides. She grinned and shoved it in as well. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Varric slumped against the wall. He was doing his best to keep his expression angry; but Hawke saw the hurt there. He was thumbing a hunk of gold, turning it over in his fingers like he could shape it into something beautiful with just his will. Truthfully Hawke hadn't been all that surprised when Bartrand betrayed them; locking them in the Primeval thaig to presumably die down there, and waltz off with all the treasure for himself. Of course all the treasure they ended up finding made his stupid little idol pale in comparison. Unfortunately, gold wasn't usually enough to heal a broken heart.

Hawke pursed her lips and dabbed at her aching nose once more before making her way through the piles of gold to him,

"You know, with how incredibly rich you're going to be when we get home; you could coat Bianca in gold," she smiled, plucking the lump from between his fingers and flipping it in her hand, "It would cover up Melvin's teeth marks quite nicely." The mabari's head perked up across the way, a gold crown sitting sideways on it and Merrill giggling madly behind him.

Varric cracked a smile, but it was rather forced.

Hawke sighed and plopped down next to him, laying her back against the wall. The adrenaline of downing that monster had begun to wear off. Thankfully her only noticeable injury was the throbbing burn across her nose where one of the little profane minions to join the battle had gotten her with its burning whip. The force had broken her nose, making it even more crooked and unappealing than before- but at least she wasn't as bad off as poor Fenris, who they suspected had a broken rib that Anders was entirely too weak to heal. Everyone moved with increasing stiffness; trying to focus on the life changing discovery of the beast's horde, and forget about all their aches and pains. As well as the trying journey ahead.

Finally, Varric spoke without taking his eyes off of the gold piles, "Too many times have I had to see the worth of money over family." He took off a glove and cracked his fingers, examining the backs of his hands, "I should have seen it coming- the way he was acting and all- but I still thought…" Hawke feared for a moment that he would begin to sink into depression, but instead the little man finally looked up at her, warm eyes finally meeting his smile, "Turns out that I've just been depending too much on the blood family. Thanks for saving my ass today, Hawke. I wouldn't have made it out of here if you hadn't pried me away from that door. Probably would have gotten eaten by darkspawn or some shit…"

She smacked his arm, earning a grunted chuckle, "Don't go getting all sappy on me, Varric," he could see the blush crawling across her cheeks as she scratched the back of her head, "You're the last person I want a gooey speech from."

The dwarf barked a laugh and turned to look back at the treasure. They fell into a companionable silence, watching their team mates gather up all the gold they could carry- and then some. Isabela especially seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Though Merrill could be seen hunched over a pile of jewels, looking at them with big curious eyes, and turning her head about like a bird. Fenris however had chosen a few pieces and then sat down by the exit, clearly itching to leave.

Sebastian strolled among the treasure, his eyes hazy and a loose smile on his lips, occasionally running his fingers over the gold. He seemed to be lost in memories; one could only wonder what memories of gold a priest would hold so dear.

"…Maybe that's because I'm only pretending to be a priest …"

Hawke flinched as the words swam up into her head. A blurry vision of the archer, in a splendid white vest with gold accents, and a flush across his cheeks flashed through her mind. When in the world had she seen him like that? Hawke wracked her brain for a moment…Summerday! Yes, she remembered now. She and Isabela had gotten fantastically drunk and Sebastian had to nearly carry the two of them back to Fenris's mansion. But beyond that it was so hazy, Hawke squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to remember what happened.

Try as she might, nothing came to mind, accept those murmured words. His breath brushing against her cheek and a smile that was entirely too attractive stretching across his usually schooled features.

Hawke sprang up- well, more like scrambled up with the assistance of the wall- with an inquisitive look from Varric, and began to march towards the man in question.

Sebastian looked over as she approached, and tossed her a small smile, "This is splendid indeed. The Chantry will soon receive a rather shocking donation from an anonymous benefactor…" He chuckled, letting a pile of gold fall between his fingers. Though his head whipped back around when Hawke grabbed his arm and led him off through one of the little side tunnels. It led to a tiny treasure room that had chests stacked atop one another, all open and already rooted through for the best pieces.

"You're pretending." She said, looking at him with wide eyes, "I remember, you said you were! You're lying about who you really are."

She expected him to look shocked at her revelation, to see the color drain from his face and for him to start stammering excuses. But instead, he just looked tired. Sebastian's posture relaxed into one hand on his hip and one running through his hair. He let out a sigh, and stared at the floor for some time. He wasn't objecting, wasn't even trying to. The silence stretched on.

"You're right, of course. It was foolish of me to assume that you'd forget." He turned his gaze to the ceiling, "I just keep making mistakes around you."

Hawke crossed her arms, chewing on her words. She wanted to ask him so many questions; why was he pretending? Who was he really? Was Sebastian his real name? Why didn't he just tell her from the start? But instead, she simply stood there, bursting at the seams, and waited for him to speak.

In his own time, Sebastian found the things he needed to say. His endless blue eyes finally met hers and a tanned hand looked as though it would reach out and touch her, but it stayed firmly at his side,

"I am…not who you think. Of course by asking the right people- you could find out about my past quite easily." He looked down, "I was posing as an exile that was forced into the chantry by his parents for abhorrent behavior and disgracing the family. Of course; rumors had to be spread, people paid off, it was all such an elaborate ruse." He glanced away from her, "But it had to look real; it had to look like I would never come back, would never be a threat to the throne-"

"Wait, throne?" Hawke broke in, her eyes widening, "What throne? Hold on- does this mean you…you're…" she tried to wrap her head around it, but the words just wouldn't come out. Too much excitement today, too many head injuries. That was it.

"I'm a Vael, Marian. The heir to Starkhaven's throne." He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, obviously concerned she wasn't taking this well.

Hawke stared at him for a moment, eyes wide and lips puckered into a tiny 'o'. She willed herself to respond, but the only sound that seemed to come out was,

"Ah, that's all?"

"…Isn't that enough?" He said, brows furrowing.

She snapped back to reality, "Why in the hell did you not tell me this earlier?" Hawke threw her hands in the air, "I would have never, never brought you down here! Oh sweet merciful Maker, you almost died in that spider pit! If I hadn't…Andraste's ass, I would have ended a dynasty!"

Sebastian pressed closer, "Please keep your voice down, Marian. I don't want this getting around. As far as anyone knows I've severed my ties with Starkhaven and have a bitter hatred for the previous royal family."

Hawke stared at him in confusion, "Previous? You mean your parents? Now that you mention it- why is this fake? Why did you have to leave? What happened?"

He looked about to speak, but Fenris's voice echoed out through the tunnels,

"Hawke, Priest! We are getting ready to go! Let us be done with this place."

The use of his title made Hawke's mouth twist, and he looked at her with a helpless shrug. She made to turn and stomp away, but he caught her shoulder,

"Marian, please. I don't want to lose your trust in me. I know we won't be able to talk through this next week up, but as soon as we can get alone on the surface I swear I will tell you everything," His expression was earnest and pleading, and his hand slid down her arm to hold hers, "Please. You saved my life. And you are an amazing woman; your friendship is too important to lose over this lie that has become my life."

Hawke blushed for the second time that day, and yanked her hand out of his, "What is it with everyone getting all mushy today?" She turned and began to stalk out of the room, "I will be waiting for that explanation, Sebastian. I won't forget this time."


The trip out of the tunnels was long, and tedious. They had no bed rolls to sleep in, and did not dare take off their armor when their eyes managed to drift shut; for fear of darkspawn jumping around the corner at any moment. Food was sparse at best, absent at worst. They'd only packed rations for a few days, and the trek was a week-long if the ancient signs posted along the dwarven roads were anything to go by.

The group cohesion that they'd formed so firmly on the way down was certainly taking a beating with the each bit of food that drained away, and every hour sleep that evaded them. Fenris snapped at anyone who said practically anything to him. Anders looked like he might fall over and die any time now- he was stretched to his limits with the constant darkspawn threat around them. Isabela was irritable to the point where she didn't even try to come on to any of them-that's when they knew it was a problem. Varric of course was still silently furious about Bartrand, and that leaked out whenever he managed to open his mouth. Poor Merrill was doing her best not to complain, but they could all see that her claustrophobia was getting worse. Hawke doubted the girl slept more than an hour a night.

They got lost a few times. Ran into groups of darkspawn a few times. And had screaming matches a few times. Tempers flared, and on Merrill's part tears were shed. Hawke swore none of these people would ever talk to her again after they got out of this hellish place.

Although, however bad it got they all tried their very best to forge onward. No matter what got in their way, Hawke's rag tag group of companions never gave up, and never stopped. If one fell behind, they were picked up. There was even a point where Isabela was carried between Sebastian and Fenris. Hawke found herself lending Anders an arm more often than not, and also found that she really didn't mind.

This all reminded her in some skewed way of her family back home. Everyone just wanted to move forward, but they had to do it together. There were disagreements, there were tears, there was even some blood, but in the end they were going to get through it by the skin of their teeth because of the bonds they all shared. The words 'left behind' were never mentioned when one of their comrades lagged; because then this entire journey would have been for nothing.

Sebastian and Fenris were at odds for some time; the elf still not completely forgiving the archer for his reckless action, but even they put it aside to get out. Because they certainly couldn't do it alone.

It all made Hawke miss her family terribly- despite having her friends so close by.

As they neared the final stretch on the endless incline that'd been the last two days of the journey, Hawke found that all she could think about was her mother, her brother and sister, her uncle, and her baby. She wanted to hold Hugo in her arms and never let go. She wanted to lie in front of the fire while her mother ran her fingers through her hair. She wanted Beth and Carver to bicker as they always did. Even Uncle Gamlen trying his best to be grumpy, and failing miserably would be a welcome sight.

"Hawke?"

She looked over at Varric, who stood right beside her, his hand outstretched. Those gloved fingers touched a heavy stone door in front of them. It looked very old and rarely touched; carvings of the ancient dwarven civilizations all over it. Varric looked tired, and hungry, and irritated, but he still smiled. Hawke smiled too, putting her hand next to his,

"Let's go home."

Together, they pushed open the ancient door, beams of moonlight instantly shooting in between the crack. As it widened, they had to cover their eyes; even that dull glow was much more than the sparse magelight they'd been traveling by through some of the less frequented tunnels.

But soon, the door was opened all the way and they were greeted with an endless sky, nearly bursting with stars. The glittering lights stretched across the expanse like thousands and thousands of jewels. The moon sat at their center, huge and beautiful and glorious. Sparse clouds drifted around, just little wisps to accent the splendor which coated the land in a darkened sheet.

In the distance, shining like a beacon was Kirkwall. It perched on the edge of the land, just about to fall into the impossibly dark sea. Hundreds of little lights flickered in the city and made it light up like the North star; guiding them home.

Hawke had to cover her mouth to restrain her gasp, as tears pricked her eyes. Almost a month down in that awful place, and now a week to get back. But it would all be worth it; because she had something never possessed. She had coin, coin to protect Bethany, to buy mother's house back, to placate Carver, and to raise her baby with. It had all been worth it, all of it.

The rogue fell to her knees and looked up at the stars, the tears sliding down her cheeks,

"Father, Garret. I did it, I really actually managed to do something good without mucking it up." She laughed as the breaths came harder, and the tears came faster. She could almost see her father and brother smiling down at her; proud that she still tried to protect their family when they no longer could.

"Come on, Hawke. You can speak with dead relatives later…" Varric chuckled, though she could see his eyes were wet. He looped an arm through hers and pulled her to her feet.

"It's a long walk home, so we'd better get started."