A/N: I had intended to have chapter 9 and 10 together, but realized it was going to be massive, so that's why Legacy-chapters got split. Thank you for your reviews and support!

Disclaimer: Bioware

A Wolf and Mage's Uneasy Path

Chapter Ten

"You're too late, Larius. Hand over Hawke and I will give you a quick death." Janeka's voice made them halt as they came toward the final seal where Corypheus awaited them. Hawke narrowed her eyes at the Grey Warden mage; she was a fool to think she could gain control over an ancient, sentient darkspawn, but she intent on doing so, with or without Hawke's cooperation.

"Hawke had made her choice; the right one." She couldn't agree more with Larius' words; deals with demons never worked, why mages couldn't see that, Hawke had no idea. She nodded, not tearing her gaze from Janeka who glared at her, obviously frustrated by her lack of cooperation.

Then she smirked and Hawke felt uneasy. "The right choice or the only choice? Malcolm Hawke was not allowed to disagree."

"That is the past, it doesn't matter." Larius made a curt, dismissive gesture.

"I would think that's for me to decide," Hawke said, turning her pale blue gaze to Larius. "What does Janeka mean by…not allowed? And do not lie to me, Larius."

Larius turned his eyes back to the four Grey Wardens before them. "How does she know this? Alec, did you tell her?" He sighed and hobbled a pace or two away, his back to Hawke and the others. "Malcolm Hawke was reluctant. Had to be…persuaded. I was Warden Commander, it was my duty. I delivered an ultimatum – 'help us or you'll never see her again'."

"You…you threatened my father?" Hawke's voice rose with her anger, her magic building around her twitching fingertips as she took a threatening step toward Larius. "You were going to kill mother?" Anders gripped her arm to stall her movements, but she shrugged it off, half glaring at him; their gazes stayed locked for a brief moment before she sighed and took a step back.

"No! Never!" Larius came back toward her, shaking his head adamantly. "He came with us, I never had to decide his fate! She was never told about what passed between Malcolm and me."

"That doesn't make it better," Hawke sighed, rubbing a finger between her brows where a subtle ache was beginning; Maker, this day just kept getting better and better, didn't it?

"You see Hawke," Janeka started, drawing her attention. "How can you trust anything Larius says?"

"Larius' threats or not, he is still right about Corypheus." Hawke sighed. "I am not releasing a demon just because you think you can control it. My father would do the same, I know it."

"You can come willingly or not, Hawke." Janeka threatened, the other three wardens gathering around her. They unsheathed their weapons and Hawke took the defensive, raising her staff. Janeka's green gaze narrowed. "I just need your blood."

Alec rushed forward his blade raised, ready to strike her, but Fenris was there suddenly, throwing the man back. Hawke and Anders moved back as Varric unleashed a rain of arrows, bolts flying up only to fall upon the Wardens. Hawke's magic swarmed warmly within her and she coaxed it, eyes narrowed, before she cupped her hands and shot them forward, a fireball flying out to slam at Janeka's feet and send her flying. It was all over in a matter of moments and Hawke was glad to have put the crazy bitch down; it was confounding to her how mages continued to think they wouldn't fall prey to a demon when they made their deals with the spirits. Her father…he had resorted to blood magic, to protect her and mother, but he had sealed the demons here and vowed never to release one upon the world. Why couldn't mages be more like her father? She never approved of blood magic, never resorted to it herself, but that didn't mean she looked down on her father for having used it – he had done it the right way, if blood magic had a right way.

"He stirs…" Larius said, walking toward the platform in the middle of the tower that was illuminated in a soft, golden glow, strands of the glow snaking through the air to four statues on balconies on the edges of the tower. "Slay him now before he wakes, before his strength comes." He walked forward a few steps, before he stopped and turned to face her. "The key…it isn't strong enough. Use your blood – free him and slay him."

One by one, Hawke and the others went to the statues and disconnected them from the platform. It was obvious something was happening, the swirls of gold fading away with each, the spell holding Corypheus beginning to lift. When the last was done, the four torch-like pillars around the platform lit lavender and she swallowed as she approached, alone this time, while the other stood back and watched almost anxiously(least she would assume so, who knew what she would be unleashing). Up the steps she went, her heart racing and mouth dry; were they mad to think she could defeat such a creature? She glanced back at the others, seeing the determination set in the lines of their faces, and nodded, turning back.

She pulled a dagger from her inside her sleeve and trembled. This was it, wasn't it? She would be using blood magic to lift the seal over a sentient darkspawn, but she was strong, like her father, and set her lips together tightly and raised her arm. Gritting her teeth, she sliced the dagger across her palm and watched as her blood welled and slid to fall in a river of droplets onto the stone beneath her. It lit up beneath her, tracing lines in gold, and a golden hue surrounded her; she took the staff, the key, from her back and set it before her where it become engulfed in gold. Suddenly the light exploded outward and sent her careening with the key off the platform onto the stone floor of the tower with a wince. She pushed herself to her feet quickly and turned, watching as the creature came from within the stone; a grotesque mix of mage, man, and darkspawn, she was unsure of what it was she was actually looking at.

"Be this some dream I wake from?" This must have been Corypheus, Hawke decided. "Am I in dwarven lands? Why seem their roads so empty?" He looked around the tower room, almost confused; that didn't make sense, as he'd been sending assassins after her and Carver in his sleep. Had it been subconscious? Something that he, himself, wasn't entirely aware of? He pointed at Hawke then. "You! Serve you at the temple of Dumat? Bring me hence! I must speak with the first acolyte!"

Anders turned to her then, an almost perplexed, yet stricken look on his face. "Dumat…was the first Old God to become an Archdemon. There haven't been temples to him since ancient Tevinter."

"You look human," Corypheus stated then, giving Hawke an almost curious look. "Are you not citizens of the Empire? Slaves then, to the dwarves?" Hawke was certain she heard Fenris scoff at this point. "Why come you here? Whoever you be, you owe fealty to any magister of Tevinter. On your knees!" He gestured with an arm. "All of you!"

Hawke's eyes narrowed. "You're a darkspawn. Dark…spawn…Ravaging the Deep Roads, spreading the Blight. Does any of this sound familiar?"

Corypheus paused for a moment, then almost seemed to sniff the air. "You," he drawled, "you are what held me. I smell the blood in you." He turned away, paced a bit. "The light. We sought the light. You offered…the power of the gods themselves. But it was…black…corrupt. Darkness…ever since. How long?" He groaned and turned back, his head down.

Larius stepped up beside Hawke, shaking his head. Hawke's heart was racing in her chest; the way this ting spoke, it was as if it were a magister of the ones who had dared tread in the Maker's city. Larius echoed her thoughts. "The Golden City. The first violation…the magisters who brought the Blight."

Anders scoffed and shook his head. "That's ridiculous! There were no magical boogeymen who trespassed in the Maker's city. It's a story, for Maker's sake!"

"You don't think a magister would be arrogant enough to challenge the Maker?" Fenris scowled at the mage and glared at him openly. "You need to meet more magisters."

"I'll pass, thanks." Anders sighed. "It's Chantry propaganda, nothing more."

"So…this darkspawn is just insane then?" Hawke shook her head with a soft sigh. "Anders, the Chantry teaches that it was mankind's hubris that brought the Blights down on us. You know that."

His amber gaze narrowed on her then, as if her beliefs irritated him. "The hubris of mages, Hawke, like you and I. That's their real point."

She almost snapped a snide comment at him, but Corypheus chose this moment to come back toward them, sweeping a hand out in an encompassing gesture. "What manner of speech is this? How long is it that I have slumbered?"

"He tainted the world. He speaks to all who carry the corruption. Darkspawn. Wardens. He brought Janeka here. Brought you, Hawke…"

Hawke turned her pale eyes to Larius, looking at him curiously. "You really think he's one of the original magisters? That he…that he has been to the Black City?" Even as she said it, it sounded preposterous, but how could she deny the proof standing just before them? Her father had used the thing he'd hated the most, his magic and his blood, to keep this creature from being released – that meant he was far from ordinary, but she knew that much already.

"The City!" Corypheus snapped, anger tingeing the edges of his voice. "It was supposed to be golden! It was supposed to be ours!" He rose above them, glowering down at Hawke. "If I cannot leave with you, I will leave through you! I seek the light!" Hawke barely caught sight of Larius running from the tower just before Corypheus attacked them. She was sent flying back, rolling to a stop as the other began an assault upon the magister. She climbed to her feet, grabbing the key from its place on the floor.

"Dumat! Grant me your powers!" Corypheus called to the Old God, reappearing in the center of the platform, absorbing fire from one of the four statues that they had used to unseal him.

"The statues!" Hawke shouted as twins trails of fire were burst at them. It went on like this, for what seemed forever; they would cut the connection to the statues, then he would absorb another elemental magic, before they had do it all over again.

"We can't keep this up forever, Hawke!" Varric exclaimed, dodging one of the electrified rocks as they charged toward another statue.

"Tell me something I don't know!"

At last, when her magic was nearly inaccessible, her body heavy, lungs starved for oxygen, did the magister fall to his knees, bleeding profusely from a multitude of wounds she and the others had inflicted upon him. She absorbed as much of her mana as she could as he lifted his black eyes to her, then smashed her staff upon the stone and sending spikes of ice into his flesh. He screamed, and shuddered, before falling on his side and ceasing to be all together.

Hawke set her hands on her knees and caught her breath, feeling weak and drained. Maker, she had never had to fight anything so powerful in her entire life; blood magic, or not, her father had been right to use his blood to keep this monstrosity sealed in the tower. She approached Corypheus' corpse slowly, cautiously, as did the others. Kneeling down, she plucked an amulet from around his neck and stood, studying it carefully.

"That amulet…" Anders stood beside her now, eyes wide as he gazed upon the piece of jewelry. "No one's used that pattern since before the First Blight. It was unique," he turned his eyes to her now, voice sounding almost…astonished, "to a small sect in Tevinter who worshipped the god Dumat. Corypheus…he…he really was an ancient magister."

"They're no myth, mage." Fenris stated as he came up on Hawke's other side. Did they always, even subconsciously, put her in the middle? "Nor have the magisters changed."

Anders frowned at him, and simply turned his gaze back to Hawke. "I always thought the Black City was just a story…"

Hawke stared at him, for a long moment, weighing over what words she should say to him; he looked hopeful, as if she would deny his words, and stand with his belief that the Chantry made up the magisters' violation to turn all the inhabits in Thedas against mage kind. "Anders, the Chantry isn't as bad as you make it out to be," she sighed softly and glanced away, suddenly feeling uneasy. "Maybe they're right about other things, too…"

"I will need to study this further…" he mumbled, and dropped it at that.

For that, she could be grateful – another argument with him would have been more than she could have dealt with today, given the events that had already transpired. There was something here, something that had been beyond her understanding and now, more than ever, she felt that there had to be some kind of middle ground in Kirkwall for the mages and Templar. As she stared down at Corypheus' corpse, she couldn't help but feel the Chantry had plenty of reason to be as vigilant as it was – to a point.

The fire was warm as it blazed to life in the pit of the main room. Hawke was relieved to be home, but she had so much on her mind, so many things to consider, reflect over. She leaned up from where she was braced against the wall as Carver came in; the journey home had been essentially been filling him in over all that had happened, and how father was involved, and what he'd done. Her brother was adamant that their father would never use blood magic, even with Hawke's reasoning.

"The attacks, darkspawn, every bloody part of it, all because of what happened years ago. What he did for mother, no…for all us, really." He sighed and gazed at the fire for a brief moment. "How would mother take this…strange magic? I wish I could talk to her…"

She smiled slightly, touching his arm gently. "They wouldn't want us wallowing over what we've lost," she said softly, her own words dawning over her with sudden realization. There would always be pain, but she was right; mother and father wouldn't want her wallowing like a child. She was strong, had to gather herself, and move forward with her chin held high.

"I don't think either of them got what they wanted out of this life," he said, almost grimly. Then he chuckled and stroked his chin. "So back to the way things are."

Hawke smiled and half shrugged. "Seems that way."

"Right." He paused thoughtfully. "Sister…" he seemed like he wanted to say something, but he sighed and shook his head ever so slightly. "Nevermind." He nodded, before he turned and left her home, the door clicking shut almost silently behind him.

What would mother say? She wondered that herself as she turned back to the fire, letting her eyes shut softly. She could picture her mother there, standing beside her at the fire, as they had done many times before.

"You know Malcolm wouldn't want you two to fight." She would sigh then, a small smile on her lips. "He sacrificed so we'd have a life free to choose, not always agree. His burden must have been very much like yours."

"I do what I can," Hawke sighed softly, rubbing a hand over her tired face. "Sometimes it doesn't seem like enough though, mother."

"You know your father tried to help people the same way. Tried to fix troubles he saw in others. Even if he couldn't fix it, he would try." She would smile, as she always did when speaking of her father; always and continuously proud of her father. "The best of him is still with you. The best of all of us. It's what makes you try so hard, dear. You will always have that. We will always be family." Her mother would reach out, touch her gently. "It'll be alright."

"Of course, mother…" Hawke sighed, letting the memory of her mother fade so it was just her, standing alone. "It'll be alright. It will all work out somehow…I hope you are right."