UPDATE 2/11/12: Herp derp, just realized I said Verathorn instead of Ilen, but apparently everyone knew what I was talking about since no one said anything yet. Oh well, all fixed :)

Chapter 9

"Wake up...Hey! Wake up! Come on, the sun is comin' up, either rent a room or go home!"

Hawke half opened one eye to see the Hanged Man's barkeep attempting to evict him from the comfortable resting place he'd found upon the bar last night. He sat up and looked around. Varric was sound asleep by the fire. Anders lay unconscious against a pile of sacks by the stairs. Hawke chuckled. He knew Anders would be kicking himself for drinking once he woke up. Varric...well, Varric was a dwarf and they drink mead like water so Hawke was sure this would be just another day for him. Hawke was fortunate enough to have never had a hangover and this time was no different. He hopped off the bar and apologized to the flustered barkeep.

"Sorry, I'll try to pass out somewhere less inconvenient next time." Hawke said with a grin.

The barkeep grumbled and went over to Anders. Hawke took to Varric and nudged him with his boot until he turned over and looked up at him.

"Hawke!" Varric laughed and stretched without getting up. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Dawn." Hawke replied.

"That early?" Varric complained as he got to his feet and rubbed his eyes.

"You think you've got it bad?" Hawke asked with a sideways glance as Anders came to right on cue with the expected groans and complaints about his mead-induced headache.

Varric chuckled again. "Oh Blondie, when are you going to learn?"

"Yes ha ha, Varric, I'm glad you find this so funny." Anders struggled to his feet and stumbled over to his friends.

"Let's get you home." Hawke said as he helped support Anders to keep him from tumbling to the floor. Varric would have liked to help, but obviously lacked the height, so instead he did the next best thing he could think of...cracking jokes at Anders expense along the way.

By the time they reached his clinic, Anders had made several attempts to physically harm Varric. Hawke had restrained him, so he'd tried to use magic, but in his current state of mental fogginess, all he'd managed to do was ruffle Varric coat. He tried one more time to lunge at him and Hawke reacted too late. Varric stepped backwards, but Anders caught a patch of his chest hair on the way down and tore it out. Hawke couldn't help laughing, but Varric was mortified. Before the two killed each other, Hawke grabbed Anders by the back of his robe, hoisted him up and dropped him on one of the cots in his clinic.

"Get some rest." Hawke said as he turned to leave.

Anders simply gave him a thumbs up and rolled over onto his side.

Hawke then walked back to his home and said goodbye to Varric as he went inside. Neither Bodahn nor Sandal were awake and Hawke was still exhausted so he went to his room and collapsed into his bed. He lay there, but as it had been every time he tried to sleep, or really any time at all he found himself alone with time to think since she left, his mind inevitably wandered to Merrill. He rolled over to see the empty space she left in the bed...and felt the emptiness in his heart. He sat up. No use trying to sleep. He wouldn't be able to. He wasn't tired enough and now more than ever, he was determined. Today, he was going to get the love of his life back.

He got up and fetched some hot water to bathe himself. He shaved his stubble and washed his face. He looked in the mirror. His dream from the previous night suddenly returned to him. He glared at the face in the mirror, but realized that anger was what fueled the monster within him. He thought of Merrill instead. Of her infectious giggle. Of the way her toes curled when...he trailed off, caught in a whirlwind of happy memories. His eyes opened and he saw instead of anger, a look of supreme serenity and happiness on his face. He grinned and turned.

Bodahn had awoken and was preparing his and Sandals breakfast when Hawke came down the stairs.

"Messer Hawke! How good to see you before noon. What with the drinking last night, I hadn't expected to see you up so early." Bodahn grinned at him. "So what is it that has you stirred from bed at this hour...and in such attire?"

Hawke had donned his armor and sword, knowing well that trouble often followed him when he set off on an adventure. "I'm going to find her." was all he said as the door swung shut behind him.

Bodahn smiled.

Hawke made his way to Lowtown rather quickly, his determination driving him onward. As he came to the alienage, he took a moment to admire the lush beauty of the vhenadahl tree and compose himself for whatever came next. He wasn't sure how Merrill would react and to be quite honest, he was terrified. He'd been mulling over all the possible things he could say to her, all the lines of reasoning he could defend their relationship with...but quite frankly, he was entirely unsure that any of it would come out right when it mattered. He was a bundle of nerves and he was worried he might say something stupid. He knew she'd taken this "thinking time" because she thought them being together was hurting him somehow and she was worried for his well-being, but over the past few days, after his encounter with the Cotterie thieves and...well, what he had been considering beforehand, he realized that he couldn't live without her.

He looked up at the tree and smiled. Maybe that was all he needed to tell her. He couldn't live without her.

Hawke smirked to himself at the simplicity of this, nerves somewhat settled, and made for Merrill's hovel. He reached the door and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

"Merrill?" he said aloud, knocking again.

When there still was no reply, he tried the door handle. As the handle turned and the door slid open, it made Hawke smile that even in this part of town, Merrill was so trusting as to leave her door unlocked, though at the same time, he couldn't help but worry for her safety...he'd have to talk to her about that. Or perhaps she was expecting him? Hadbeen expecting him? As he looked around, he wondered if he had come too late. She wasn't home. The papers on her desk looked exactly as he remembered, except...for the large, leatherbound tome resting in the center of the desk. It was open. Hawke took a look at the page and read some of it. It appeared to be a tome dealing with magical artifacts.

The mirror.

Hawke hated that mirror. As he read further down the page, he noticed Merrill's elegant handwriting scribbled into the margin. He read the portion next to it.

Any artifact of power, should it be broken or in any other way damaged, must be restored not only to its original physical state, but also its original magical alignment. Any significant damage to the vessel will cause it's magical alignment to be thrown out of balance. Thus, virtually nullifying the power of the artifact. Unfortunately, this process is not as simple as it seems. One does not simply channel magic into an artifact and hope for the best. It is an extremely taxing process, requiring massive amounts of energy and concentration, but also knowledge. One must know intimately of the artifact's history in order to magically balance it and spirits are often the soul keepers of such knowledge. There is only so much one can glean from texts on the artifact.

Hawke, with a mixture of worry and horror, then looked to Merrill's hastily scrawled note, already knowing what it would say.

I have to go back to the start.

Hawke stepped back. Fear for Merrill his only thought. He quickly returned to the book, and swiped his fingers over the note a few times. He looked at his fingers and noticed that some of the ink had come off on them. She couldn't have left too long ago, perhaps there was still time. He turned and bolted out the door, tearing through Lowtown like a dragon was at his heels.

By the time he began his approach to Sundermount, he was tired, but wouldn't let that stop him. Panting as he passed through the ruins on the approach to the Dalish camp, he almost missed the flash of a shadow in his peripheral. He slowed and turned to look, but as his foot came down in a patch of grass and landed on something hard, he heard a familiar metal snap. Before he could think, his reflexes kicked in and he sprung off his feet, outstretching a hand to balance him as he threw himself into an awkward cartwheel. This brought his face dangerously close to the snapping jaws of the metal trap, but he avoided harm and landed off balance as two arrows missed his head by inches. He ducked and drew his sword. He heard a roar behind him and whirled around, outstretching his sword and catching his would-be attacker across the chest, sending him to the ground. But as he turned, he saw four more enemies. He figured they were common thieves, or brigands, but had to give them points for how they'd planned the ambush. If he'd been caught in that trap, the archers would have turned him into a pincushion faster than he could react. As it was, both were still alive and readying a second volley. Hawke vaulted over the ruined wall next to him where one was taking cover.

The archer's companion had gone around the wall in an attempt to take Hawke by surprise, but could only look on as Hawke viciously brought his blade down, splitting the bow in two and slashing the archer across his torso. The archer fell dead and Hawke turned around with a dagger in his other hand, throwing it at the other bandit. It caught him in the shoulder, which was enough of a distraction for Hawke to close the distance and impale him. As he tried to pull his sword from the man's torso, another arrow whizzed by his face. Hawke let go and retrieved his dagger, pulling another one from the bandit's belt. Another bandit was about twenty feet from Hawke and closing fast. Hawke noticed this one seemed the best equipped out of the five, which he assumed made him the leader. The man was wielding two daggers as well and wove them in a flurry as he approached Hawke. Hawke spun both of his daggers, taking a defensive reverse grip as he rose and charged the man. The first attack the bandit threw at him nearly severed his throat, causing Hawke to take a step back.

He couldn't afford a lengthy fight. Not now. Not when Merrill was potentially in danger. This had to end quickly.

The bandit moved to his left and attacked again, this time aiming to hamstring him. Hawke leapt over the attack, spinning in the air and bringing his armored shin down on the bandit's back. Both fell to the ground, but quickly recovered and rolled to their feet. Hawke maneuvered to keep the leader between himself and the remaining archer. He didn't want to take a chance that the bandit was crazy enough to fire at the dueling men...or did he?

The leader, obviously infuriated by being knocked down, was attacking wildly now. He swung his right arm at Hawke's face, trying to blind him and followed with a thrust of his left dagger aimed at Hawke's abdomen. Hawke deftly dodged the slash, then lunged forward and turned to the left, putting him past the range of the thrust, but leaving the leader wide open. He elbowed the man in the face with his right to disorient him and keep him from attacking as Hawke slashed the tendons in his forearm with the dagger in his left. The leader howled in pain and would have dropped the dagger in his hand if Hawke hadn't already taken it and tucked it into his belt. He had maneuvered so that his back was now to the archer. Anticipating the twang of his bow string, Hawke grabbed the leader's injured arm and spun him so he was back between himself and the archer.

His timing was perfect. Just as Hawke turned, he saw the archer loose and arrow and before he could blink, he heard the dull thud as the arrow struck the leader in the back and the tip protruded from his chest. Hawke released the man and whipped both daggers at the archer. He was still too far away to really hope one would hit, so he began to bound forward as he threw, reaching for the third blade he had grabbed off the leader as he closed the distance. As the daggers whirled towards the archer, he flinched and moved out of the way, smiling to himself as he heard his opponent's only weapons strike the stone behind him. As he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, returning to his firing position, he realized how wrong he'd been. Hawke planted his foot on the stone of the crumbled wall and propelled himself straight towards the archer. The bandit made an attempt to fire, but Hawke was already upon him and swatted the bow from his hands as he drove the dagger into his neck. Hawke's momentum brought the man to the ground. Before he could fight back, Hawke pulled the dagger from his neck and finished the bandit with a thrust to his heart.

The life drained from the man's eyes and Hawke stood. He'd noticed something on the leader as he disarmed him. He turned around and walked towards his fallen enemy. The arrow had pierced his heart, killing him instantly. Hawke knelt before the lifeless man and grabbed his arm, bringing it up so he could see his hand. On his middle finger, he wore a wooden ring with what looked to Hawke like Elven carvings. He examined it and could make out a very detailed, but sinister-looking wolf. He imagined it may have some significance, so he took it. He retrieved his sword hurriedly and took off again toward the Elven encampment.

As he came around a bend in the path, the camp came into view. He made his way across the camp, hearing surprised chatter as he passed by. He looked for Merathari, hoping she had seen Merrill, but to no avail, she was nowhere to be found. He ran over to Master Ilen's table.

"Have you seen the Keeper? Or Merrill?" Hawke asked impatiently.

"Is something wrong, Hawke?" Ilen asked slowly, putting down a bow he'd been working on.

"Yes! Now have you seen either of them?" Hawke asked again, beginning to lose his temper.

"Merrill came through here a little while ago looking for the Keeper. Said she had to talk to her. The Keeper had gone up the mountain earlier, so Merrill went off after her. Haven't seen them since." he answered.

Hawke took off up the mountain path without a backwards glance. Merrill was in danger, he could feel it. He made his way up the mountain at a furious pace.

I won't lose you too.

His heart pounded and his legs throbbed as he reached the entrance to the cave. He'd been there before with Merrill once. The very first time they'd met and gone up the mountain to deliver Flemeth's amulet. He'd wanted to explore the mountain paths further before returning to Kirkwall. They'd eventually made their way to the cave, but Merrill seemed off...well, more than usual. Now, he understood why. She'd mentioned the demon before and Hawke knew that it could only cause trouble.

He entered the cave and heard Merrill speaking to the Keeper.

"What...have you...done, Keeper?" Merrill slowly asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

"I did what I could. The demon's plan was always for you to finish the mirror. It was the gateway from his world into ours and you would have been his first victim. I...couldn't let that happen da'len." The Keeper said mournfully.

Hawke was edging around the corner of the old wall separating him from the main chamber, waiting to see where the conversation went.

"What did you do with him?" Merrill demanded indignantly.

"I could not defeat him in the fade, nor could I banish him without making him stronger, so I did the only thing I could...I made myself his prison." The Keeper looked up at Merrill. "Kill me and he dies too."

Merrill's expression turned from anger to shock and sorrow. "No...you can't...you can't ask me to." She stopped, bringing a hand to her face to wipe away her tears. "I won't do it." She quietly sobbed.

"Merrill, you always knew your blood magic had a price...and I have chosen to pay it for you." The Keeper stepped around Merrill, but stopped and jerked unnaturally as blue light engulfed her.

Hawke was down the stairs and between Merrill and the Keeper in the blink of an eye, sword drawn.

"Hawke?" Merrill cried out.

Hawke turned, but before he could say anything, the light dissipated and where the Keeper once was, now stood a massive demon. Hawke jumped back and pulled Merrill out of the way as it swung one of its huge arms at them. With Merrill at a safe distance, Hawke dashed towards the demon, sweeping his blade in a wide arc before him. The creature smashed one its fists into the ground, blocking his attack with the tough growth on its forearm. Hawke spun backwards out of the way of its counter-attack. He began to circle to the creature's left, creating some distance and putting its back to Merrill. Speaking of whom, why hadn't she attacked yet?

"TRAITOR! May the Dread Wolf hunt you for the rest of your days!" An apparition standing by one of the inlets screamed as she drew back her bow.

Merrill looked horrified, but managed to deflect the attack. "I'm so sorry Rahda." She said quietly as she fired a bolt of lightning from the end of her staff, causing the ghost to disappear in a flash of energy.

Hawke dashed forward again, anticipating the demon's wide swing, he dropped to his knees and slid across the stone floor just as its fist was about to crush him. As he slid beneath the demon, he lashed out with his sword, slashing the demon's inner leg. It roared in anger and pain.

"I was trying to rebuild my life! Why did you have to come back and destroy it?" yelled a familiar voice. Hawke looked over to see Pol, the poor, confused elf who'd run from Merrill and gotten himself killed by the Varterral. He then looked to Merrill. He remembered how awful she'd felt about his death.

"Pol...why did you have to run? Why were you so afraid of me?" Merrill sobbed.

Pol was readying an arrow.

Hawke sprinted towards the ghost. He knew Merrill felt responsible for his death. She wouldn't attack him. Hawke had no remorse. Pol was already dead. He was a ghost. And he was threatening the woman he loved. But as Hawke closed in, Pol spun towards him and fired. The ethereal arrow planted itself in Hawke's side. He was blind to the pain though and brought his sword down, returning Pol's ghost to rest once more. He winced as looked down. The arrow had disappeared, but the wound remained.

Merrill blasted the demon with fire from her staff. It raised its arms to cover itself and brought them down with a roar and a blast of energy that shook the cavern, throwing Merrill and Hawke off their feet.

More hunters began appearing and Hawke dispatched them as quickly as he could, silencing their venomous tongues. Then, a young elf he'd never seen before appeared.

"You've brought a curse upon yourself!" He yelled.

Merrill turned and looked at him. Her face dropped. "Tamlen?"

"This will follow you for the rest of your days!"

"I'm sorry Tamlen. I never should have brought you with me. You died because of my foolishness." Merrill cried softly.

Hawke dashed towards the demon to divert its attention from Merrill.

"You doomed us all!" Tamlen yelled, raising his bow.

Merrill lifted a chunk of the floor and hurled it, looking away with tears in her eyes as it struck the one ghost she felt most guilty about.

"Stop these illusions and fight us!" Hawke roared at the demon as he slashed wildly.

"Da'len stop this." The Keeper now appeared as a ghost. "Everything you touch turns to ash."

Merrill turned and shot a blast of fire at the ghost, sobbing.

Hawke roared and brought his blade down on the demon, severing one of its taloned fingers as it tried to block. The creature howled and curled up, before shooting back out, blasting Hawke and Merrill with a wave of energy. Hawke flew across the room and smashed into the altar, causing the statue to crumble. Merrill was thrown against the wall and knocked unconscious. Hawke regained his footing and leapt from the rubble. His armor had absorbed most of the impact. He saw Merrill and the demon starting towards her. He felt the familiar rush of blood. The rage building within him. He heard his heart pounding. His shallow breaths. Felt his muscles tense.

Let me out!

No. Hawke fought to contain the force within himself. He began to run towards the demon.

It stood over Merrill.

UNLEASH ME!

Hawke wouldn't give in. He was fighting to defend Merrill. He couldn't give in now. Not after that night at the mansion.

The demon reached down and lifted her by the throat.

She'll die without me.

"NOOOO!" Hawke roared as he leapt into the air, sword over his head. He came down upon the demon like a force of nature. His sword cleaved through the bicep of the arm it held Merrill with, causing it to drop her. He landed and immediately whipped his sword around and brought it down across the back of the demon's leg, crippling it. The creature roared and whipped its arm into Hawke, sending him to the ground. It closed on him and began to absorb energy from the space around it. Hawke got to his feet and brought his sword back to slash at it again, but was stopped mid-swing. He couldn't move. There was a glow around him that kept him from moving any further. He felt the force begin to close in on him.

Not again.

He remembered what happened last time he was in a situation like this.

He pressed his hands against the invisible walls and tried to force them back out, but they only continued to collapse in on him. The demon was entirely focused on ending Hawke. There was a sick grin on its grotesque face. Hawke felt a jolt of pain and heard a sharp crack as his right forearm shattered. His vision blackened and he screamed in pain. He could feel his legs compressing. His body bending in ways it shouldn't. Suddenly, an inferno engulfed the demon. Hawke felt the magic dissipate and he fell to the ground. He looked up and saw Merrill standing, staff in hand, channeling a torrent of fire at the demon. It fell to the ground, charred, but alive. Suddenly blue light engulfed its form and shrank. The Keeper's form was visible once more. Hawke retrieved his sword with his good arm and got to his feet. Merrill approached the Keeper. Hawke came up behind her as the Keeper struggled to her feet.

"You've done it da'len. You've killed the demon." She said.

"Keeper...I..." Merrill stammered.

"You're...so much stronger than I thought. Let's leave this awful place." The Keeper grinned. "The clan should know about this."

Something was off. Hawke could tell.

"But...I thought-" Merrill was still shocked.

"I thought you said you had to die." Hawke said bluntly. "That the demon's life was bound to yours." He began to step forward, but Merrill put an arm out and stopped him.

She pulled the dagger from his belt.

The Keeper's expression turned to anger as she backed towards the destroyed altar. "You cannot kill me!" She roared in a voice that sounded like many tormented souls speaking simultaneously.

"Ir abelas, Keeper" Merrill said as she lunged forward, stabbing Merathari in the heart.

She cried out and fell to the ground. After a second, she opened her eyes and gasped, swirling strands of energy emanating from her body. She arched her back sickeningly and levitated for a few moments, screaming. Merrill looked away, hiding her face in Hawke's chest. He dropped his sword and put his arm around her. The Keeper finally stopped and the energy faded away. She was dead.

Merrill turned and fell to her knees beside the body. "Why? Why did you do it?" She began to cry. "Oh please let this be a dream, a horrible dream! I'll wake up and she'll scold me for being foolish." She stopped and looked down. "Why did you have to die like this?" She sobbed.

Hawke knelt beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. She didn't fight it. She simply continued to cry and fell into his embrace.

Horray! Chapter 9! Last chapter was a little less action-packed than usual, so I figured I'd bring it back full force with this chapter. As always, I love to hear what you think about it!