"Alright, alright." Hawke insisted, her eyes darting back excitingly between Brady and Damon. "Another round of bed, wed, behead?"

"Maker no." Dawson sighed from behind them. "I cannot deal with anymore of your childish games, Champion."

Hawke scoffed and looked over her shoulder to the disgruntled warden who had a tight grip on their shackles. "Don't take this personally, but I do not care."

Dawson pulled on the leverage she had, causing the three of them to wince as the chains around their hands tightened.

Hawke persisted, her voice growing raspy and low as she put on a mockingly sultry smirk. "Please be gentle, Dawson. It's my first time."

"Hawke." Brady scolded with a sharp whisper.

She returned her attention to him and cocked an eyebrow. "Sorry, Inquisitor. I didn't mean to turn you on."

Brady rolled his eyes as Damon chuckled. Brady shook his head. "You know that's not what I meant."

Hawke shrugged, and thought hard for a minute. "You know what, Dawson? Why don't you play a round?"

"Absolutely not." She replied. She was ahead of the faction of wardens that led the charge through the Anders village, but still threw occasional looks to see if they were listening in to anything that was said ahead of them.

Hawke continued, despite the protest. "Okay, answer honestly: The inquisitor, the Warden-Commander, and I."

Brady winced. "That's a tough one, Dawson."

"I'd definitely 'bed' myself." Damon added. "Brady, you'd be beheaded."

"You know, it's not your turn."

"Don't be mad because I'd behead you." Damon smiled playfully, then readdressed Dawson. "Come on, we're dying for your answer."

"You're mad if you think I'm answering." She scowled, causing a collective sigh from all three of them.

"Fine, fine. Be that way." Hawke shrugged her off. "How about King Alistair, Empress Celene, and Divine Victoria?"

"You can't be serious." Brady chuckled.

Damon joined in. "I'm not touching that one, either."

Hawke huffed at their protest, and gave up on her game all together. With a few curses spat about their lack of entertainment, they grew silent. Until, that is, the warden camp revealed itself. It was magnificently put together, as though it had been used before. And, Brady had gathered, it probably was during attacks. The tents cluttered the area that were overshadowed by old stone watchtowers that would allow anyone to see across the plains with ease.

"Would you look at that?" Hawke expressed with a small hint of awe in her tone.

Damon clarified. "These are remnants from previous blights. We would use them more as checkpoints."

"Thanks for the history lesson, pops." Brady quipped.

They were abruptly stopped, causing another wince from their shackles. Dawson ordered two other wardens to wrestle Hawke and Damon into their holding cells, while she personally handled Brady. She uttered a command to the other wardens, insisting of using brute force if they were to try anything funny. She began to lead, keeping a tight grip on Brady's shackles.

"Careful, my lady." Brady warned with a whisper. "My hand has a tendency to act up."

She looked at him with true concern, but then dismissed his claim. "You are a terrible liar."

"And you see right through me." He replied with a smile. He looked at her, managing to make out bright green eyes. For a second, he swore he saw her smile.

"You are an open book compared to the nobles of Orlais." She said, her eyes now forward and continuing to lead him.

"You're from Orlais?" He asked, keeping his tone just loud enough for her to here.

She looked at him and retracted. "Yes, and that's all you're getting out of me."

Brady could see the holding cells just ahead, but continued to prod the warden at his side. "So, a bard, were you?"

She shook her head. "Stop trying, Trevelyan."

"Who found respite with the Grey Wardens..." He said factually, smiling at himself. "… Most likely getting in tangled with something, or someone, a little over your head."

"That's a fancy tale you're crafting."

He shrugged. "I take my victories where I can." He cocked his head. "Just out of curiosity, am I close?"

"Don't make me punch you again."

They had reached the holding cells. They were rickety and wooden, but Brady knew there was more to them then met his eye. Dawson ordered the binding of their feet and pushed them into their individual cage. Dawson walked away and kept three wardens on watch, who were standing still and cladded with armor, their eyes not leaving the three of them.

"Good idea enchanting these." Hawke taunted. "Cause if they weren't, I'd break out and kick each of your asses."

They didn't reply, causing Hawke to scowl and shake her head.

Brady settled his back against the cage. "It could be worse."

"For all this careful planning, it's amazing we are back to square one." Hawke sneered. She kicked the structure with her bound legs, but gave up and sighed.

Damon shook his head back and forth, staring down at the dirt. "Morrigan is going to kill me." He looked at the two of them and raised his voice. "And I cannot tell you how tired I am of being someone's prisoner." He huffed and mumbled. "Especially Larson's."

"Well," Brady looked over his shoulder and then back to Hawke. "We drew the wardens out. Look at all of them."

"That was the plan, but are you forgetting we're each locked in a cage?!"

Brady waved her off. "We can get out of this. Right?"

"Keep flirting with Dawson, and you might sleep our way out of this." Hawke joked.

Damon's eyes widened, and he kicked his cage in Brady's direction. "Are you insane?"

"Whoa, whoa." Brady protested. "I was not 'flirting.' Hawke, tell him I wasn't."

"I'm telling Leliana." Hawke teased. "If Larson doesn't kill you, she sure will."

Brady sighed. "She isn't the jealous type."

Damon laughed. "Everyone is the jealous type."

"Agreed." Hawke added.

A few hours began to pass, as the three of them continued to bicker about everything and anything that suited them. That is, until Dawson resurfaced. She came towards Brady's cage and opened it. He squinted at the light that came off of the lit torch she held. He saw she was relieved of her heavy armor, showing short blonde hair that was pinned to her forehead by the sweat on her brow. Her green eyes were angry as she looked down at him. "Come, you."

"I have a name you know." He retorted.

She rolled her eyes. "Inquisitor," She bent down and pulled on the chains that bound his hands, urging him to stand up. "I have no time for games."

He grunted as she pulled his restraints tighter. "I can't walk when both of my feet are bound, warden."

"No," She tugged on the restraints again. "But, you can shuffle there."

He stood up and followed her out of the cage. "I could make a run for it, you know." He joked, shuffling towards the Wardens' camp. "I'd be lost within those woods over there." He chuckled at himself, "Try explaining that to the First Warden."

She groaned. "You're insufferable."

He tipped his head to the side. "It's part of my charm."

"What charm?" She snorted, causing Brady to retract.

"Now, that's just mean." She pulled again on his restraints, much to his annoyance. "I can't go any faster, warden."

"He wanted to speak to you as soon as he got to the camp, and I'd rather not piss him off."

"May I ask who?"

"Larson, of course." She stopped and turned, giving him a baffled sneer. "You truly are daft."

She started walking again, and he followed. "Keep up with the insults, and I'm going to start to think you have a crush on me, Dawson."

Dawson scoffed. "I apologize, Inquisitor, but I have a general distaste with anyone with arrogance that amazingly equals their incompetence, you understand." They began to pass the camped out wardens that simply stared while they passed by.

He kept talking. "That may be, but you haven't seen me naked." A disgruntled groan escaped from her lips, and he grinned with satisfaction.

They reached a large tent. She pulled the canvas and pushed him in. Larson was there, looking down at a map laid bare on a table. When he saw Brady, he smiled like a smug snake. Dawson placed him in front of Larson as though he was part of a display.

"The other two?" Larson asked of Dawson.

"Under watch and surveillance." Dawson confirmed.

Larson nodded with approval. "Very good, Warden Dawson. Very good." He walked over to them and stood in front of Brady, sizing him up and examining him with his unnerving jet black eyes. "Now, Inquisitor, I'd like to know a few choice things…" He brought his armored fist to Brady's abdomen, causing even Dawson to wince, "What in the Maker's name are you planning?"

Brady replied, short of breath. "To kill you, eventually."

"You cannot kill a man who is already dead, Inquisitor." He laughed cynically. His eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Cousland would say the same. We wardens have no fear. We have been dead since our joining. That's what makes us great." Larson struck a finger into Brady's chest. "And you are going to ruin that. You are no liberator, no Maker sent hero here to save these wardens from their curse. You are a tyrant, attempting to take out another great order simply increase your own personal power."

"They should have the option, Larson. The only thing you're doing is taking that away from them. Some of these men and women have families, loved ones-"

Larson spat. "Do you believe I did not? Every single one of these wardens knew, Inquisitor, they knew what they were leaving behind. From Carinus to Garahel, sacrifice is a part of what we are, what we always have been. And for you to believe you can mock the lives of every former warden by taking that away?"

Brady scrunched his brows together, his voice growing with anger. "You ask any warden at your camp, Larson. Each and every one of them is absolutely terrified of their own calling. If they knew they had the option to be rid of it-"

"More like spit on ages and ages of warden tradition. But, what would you know of it, Inquisitor?" He walked over to his desk and picked up a journal. "I had my wardens in Ostwick do some digging." He scanned the words on the pages and mumbled. "I like to know who I'm up against." He closed the book and set it back on the desk and approached him once again. "Brady Trevelyan. Born and raised in Ostwick, named after your mother's maiden name." He put on a snake like smile. "Your real mother's maiden name." Brady looked down to the floor. Larson sized him up and continued to toy with him. "Sore topic? We could talk about the other bastards running around if you want."

"What do you want from me, Larson?"

Larson sucked on his teeth. "My scouts have found remnants of your various camps. It won't be long until we find their current one. I completely intend to crush them all under my heel. Though, I would much rather have your surrender. It would reflect terribly on me if I kill Andraste's chosen." He raised his chin. "Refuse, and we execute the three of you, then rid of anyone in your camp."

"I am sorry, First Warden, I have to call your bluff."

"Very well." He turned his attention to Dawson. "Take him back to his cage, and ready them for execution in the morning." He ticked his head to the side. "Have wine there. Red, preferably."

She looked at Brady, then back at the first warden, "Ser, we could negotiate with them-"

Larson brought his eyes back to Brady, staring at him with a tick of his tongue. "No, Warden. This must be done."

Dawson dropped her head, and began to lead Brady out of the tent. As they walked the camp, he shuffled to her side and spoke softly. She looked at him, then looked away just as quickly.

"You don't agree with this." Brady accused. "Dawson?"

"No." She snapped back with a sharp whisper. "I have my orders."

"That's funny, because a warden said the same thing to me before they almost created a demon army." She looked at him and clenched her jaw. Her green eyes were hard with contemplation. She looked around and noticed the bulk of wardens were now in the distance. He looked at her with earnest eyes. "Don't make this mistake."

She thought for but a second and retorted. "How certain are you that this is a mistake?" His lips pushed into a stern line. She continued. "What have you even accomplished here in the Anderfels? You could have left Weisshaupt alone and the world would still remain intact. This would have not escalated until your insistent involvement."

He lowered his voice. "Are you saying that you want a premature death when you have the choice to live longer?"

"We would all have been better off if the Warden-Commander did not make his discovery."

Brady hung his head and allowed her to continue on. The walk back to his holding felt like an eternity. He was now in a panic mode, trying to work every angle possible to get himself out of this one. Every scenario in his mind simply led back to a gut wrenching realization that maybe this time, there was no way out, and his fate was sealed.

As she opened up the gate door to his holding, she looked at him and adverted her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He nodded with a whisper. "Me too."

As she walked away, Damon and Hawke's eyes watched her disappear into the dark of the night, then directed their attention to Brady.

"Well," Hawke urged, "What did he want?"

"Our surrender." Brady answered.

Damon scoffed. "I hope you told him to shove it, that son of a bitch."

A dark chuckle escaped from Brady. "Yes, I did, actually."

"And then?"

"He slated our execution time for the morning." Brady replied.

Hawke leaned back and let out a breath. "Our execution, huh? Well, I have to say I did not see this coming."

"Wow," Damon exhaled. "I assume there's a plan?"

Brady fell to his side and laid against the dirt of the ground. He closed his eyes and replied softly. "No plan."

Damon half chuckled and shook his head. "Well, shit."

"…You are telling me that they are in trouble… again?"

"I do not believe I stuttered."

"But…" Cullen sighed. "There is no point in arguing."

Anders approached his right shoulder and scrunched his brows. "Did I hear that correctly?" He turned to face Morrigan, who was sitting outside of her tent nonchalantly with her arms crossed and golden eyes darting between the two men in front of her. "Hawke, is she alright?"

"I do not know the severity of the situation, though I know my warden is in distress and that he is close."

"We have to do something." He redirected his attention to Cullen. "If he has them, he'll kill them, Commander, without a second thought."

"That is madness, if he were to kill the inquisitor, he would be declared an enemy to the entirety of southern Thedas." Cullen huffed.

"And you doubt he isn't mad?" Anders shook his head. "I'd rather not leave this to theory."

"We cannot just push a full scale attack at any instant." Cullen argued. "Our soldiers are tired, perhaps in the morning… but now?"

"You are willing it risk it?" Anders growled. "And you?" He hissed at Morrigan. "What of Damon?"

Morrigan stood up. "Anders."

He looked at her, allowing her to notice his telling eyes. His brown eyes began to glow an electric blue. "I cannot allow this to happen."

Cullen took a few steps away and managed to keep his voice level. "Anders, calm down."

His electric eyes darted to Cullen, whose hand was on the hilt of his sword. Anders scoffed. "Planning to cut me down, Templar? How long have you been waiting to do that?"

"Do not tempt me, Anders."

Morrigan took place between the two of them. "Anders, focus."

"Morrigan, move." Cullen urged, raising his voice.

A voice approached behind Anders and took him to the ground. Carver.

"Brother," He held him pinned down against the dirt. "Think of Hawke, think of Gwen." Anders fought him, urging to escape his hold and spitting curses towards him. Carver's voice was calm, even. "Don't let this be the way she finds out you perished."

Anders eyes lost their light and he came down, his muscles relaxing against the ground underneath him. Carver got up, pulling up Anders as well. He stood in front of Cullen, who was still stern in a defensive position. "I- I apologize." He looked down and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "That has not happened in a very long time." His voice broke. "She just- no harm can come to her, Commander. I do not know if I could endure that."

Cullen released his grip on his hilt and itched the growing stubble on his chin. "Morrigan, you will lead us to them. We ride at dawn."

Leliana sat in her tent and reread Josephine's letter with heavy contemplation. She pulled out a bottle of wine she had stowed away and drank from it.

The Divine has shown interest in giving you an advisory role within the Cathedral, it read. She had neglected to tell Cullen, simply to avoid his obvious array of questions that would follow. Was this what the Maker wanted? For her to rejoin the ranks of the Chantry once again? She wasn't sure, but she knew what this would mean. She would be stationed in Orlais once again, indefinitely. It could be defined as another divine duty she must insist on indulging, however, she wasn't sure that was what she wanted anymore. She wasn't naïve enough to honestly believe the Inquisition would continue much after the visit to Halamshiral. In one way or another, it would come to an end. Rejoining the Chantry could be her next personal expedition, but her own ideas of what will become of her were much different. Perhaps it was time to lay down her insistent burden of her own faith and relax for a time. She thought of the villa she grew up, and how she found herself longing to be there once again, to simply feel the sun on her face and not have any world ending issues hanging over her head.

With another sip of wine, her muscles eased. It wasn't until Morrigan's voice was just outside of her tent that she tensed up and etched an unreadable expression on her face.

Morrigan let herself into the tent, with a cocky smile that was so familiar that Leliana couldn't help but sigh at.

"So, I met Justice not too long ago." Morrigan declared, taking a seat on a small wooden chair adjacent to Leliana. "I assume you would be interested. 'Tis not every day you see a functioning abomination ready to rip poor Cullen's throat out."

Leliana cocked her head. "Is he alright?"

"Aside from him almost running a blade through Anders… he is fine, yes." Morrigan raised a curious eyebrow to the parchment in Leliana's hand. "Now, what is that?"

"No interest to you, I'm sure." She retorted, folding it up and tucking it away.

Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "And yet, it has driven you to a drink."

"Surely, this visit has a purpose, Morrigan."

"Indeed, it does." Morrigan folded her legs. "We are to launch an attack on the wardens in the morning. I was told to inform you."

Leliana shook her head. "I do not understand. Already?"

"It seems our lovely heroes have gotten themselves into another mess." She twisted the ring on her finger. "With the insistence of Anders," She snickered, "And Justice, Cullen decided that now is the time."

"You agree? It could be premature."

Morrigan's voice dropped into honesty. "I find myself… concerned... about Damon." She leaned back into the chair and averted her eyes. "Sometimes, I do believe he gets in over his head." She returned her golden eyes to Leliana. "Kieran would be quite upset if I do not bring his father back with me."

Leliana giggled into her glove. "You're worried, aren't you?"

"He is a grown man that can handle himself." Morrigan protested. "However, he is insufferably accustomed to needing my assistance. 'Twould be wrong to not accommodate, no?"

Leliana continued to chuckle. "You're worried."

She was expecting opposition, but instead, Morrigan answered softly. "Indeed, I am."

"I should document this, 'Morrigan had a feeling.'" Leliana joked.

"Laugh all you would like, but do not deny that you are, too." Morrigan scoffed. "Are you not in constant fear that one day, when they decide to play 'hero,' it just might actually get them killed?"

Leliana contemplated, then replied. "That is just who they are."

"And that, Leliana, is where you are wrong." Morrigan pointed at her, then clarified. "They believe that they must be the solution; that the world is constantly on their shoulders simply because before, that responsibility was thrusted on them. That does not always have to be the case."

"I don't think even I could sit the Inquisitor down for a moment without him rushing to someone's aid." Leliana teased. "I'm not sure if it's a virtue or a vice."

"They are one in the same, Damon and Brady."

"Perhaps they should ride off into the sunset together." Leliana laughed.

Morrigan cracked a smile. "'Twould make our lives easier, no doubt."