**Reposted where it belongs

"What's it like, Calenhad?" Carver had asked once. Back when little brother had looked up to big brother, both figuratively and literally. "It's... warm. Like hot milk after coming in from the cold." Had been his answer. An answer that paled to the truth.

The truth was he hadn't had the words to describe it back then. Couldn't even now if he wanted to. There was no words to describe the feeling of magic as it coursed through your body. The feel of the veil like velvet in your mind as you reached out and coaxed the power from the fade. The whispers of spirits and demons alike in your ear, like a frozen winter breeze across your flesh. The taste of spun sugar and rotted meat on your tongue as you muttered the ancient words of the arcane,. The emptiness that overcomes your thoughts as you know nothing but the hard press of air, and the shrill screams of the mundane when your spells take form around you. It was something you could never truly describe in words, something only a mage could ever really understand and appreciate. The sudden feel of something so powerful and wonderful. And at the same time so vile and destructive.

It was something Calenhad knew better then most. The painful burn of his icy fingertips, or the soothing warmth of creation was nothing when compared to the ethereal weight of pure, raw energy. The ability to bend gravity to your will, lifting others as if they were specs of dust on a sudden gust of wind, or to crush them as easily as an ant under your boot. It was wondrous, and dangerous. How easily it was to forget, to lose control in the sudden wash of power. Unyielding discipline the Templars spent a lifetime to master, and many never came close. It was the one thing that could darken Calenhad's heart, the knowledge that he was one of few that controlled a force powerful enough to destroy villages and devastate armies.

It was also this knowledge that had made him both hate and fear his own magic most days. Knowing how easily he could lose control, fearing the day when he did. So many mages had traded their very beings to mimic such power, only to find their magic was tainted and twisted. Corrupted like the demons who infested their minds and devoured their souls. He'd once hoped he would never have to feel that kind of magic. The kind created in blood and fueled by the darkest part of a person's heart. The very magic all mundanes feared lurked deep within every mage.

He'd hoped he would never have to experience that kind of magic. But even the most powerful seer could not truly predict the outcome of one mages idiocy. He'd been lost in his own mind, lost to the outside world as he cast. It was the sound of his brother's voice that penetrated the veil, cut through the haze of the fade and pulled Calenhad back into the world. The sound of his own name in that panic stricken tone that had him turning toward the door. And then it hit him. Dark and cold as death, hatred and contempt. The dark will of another mage washing over his as he felt flesh tear and bones shatter.

And then everything went black.

..~~

The first thought on Carver's mind was I'm going to kill him. It was pretty much the only thought going through is head as he raced through the streets, dodging late night workers and sailors alike. He tried to concentrate on the sound of his feet against the hard packed ground, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, anything to keep the darker thoughts at bay. There were a thousand different things that could go wrong without a real blade between a mage and whomever it was Izzy had taken his brother to face. And another thousand thanks to the templars just across the bay. It was the second that had his heart trying to fall into his feet. The thought of his brother being caught by the vile beasts of Kirkwall that were no better then those who called themselves the Red Iron. Worse if you count the fact the Templars had the power to reduce his brother to a soulless husk. Something to be used and abused as they saw fit.

The thought made the blood in Carver's veins run colder then the icy breath of Ferelden's winter. Their father had told them it was a fate worse then death. Carver had been inclined to believe it too. To be cut off from your magic, your memories, your emotions. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to never care or love again. Never to dream or feel. It wasn't a fate he would wish on his worst enemy let alone his own brother. No matter how much his mother would argue how much easier all their lives would be without him. Carver shook his head as he approached the warehouses. A life without Calenhad was not something he was prepared to accept.

The sudden burst of light from one of the warehouses pulled his attention and told him he was in the right place. Harsh blue light spilling out between nailed up boards, the tell tale sign of the force magic his father had passed onto his eldest. He felt his heart quicken in his chest at the sight. On the one hand it gave him a destination, on the other it told him the fight had escalated to a point where simple was no longer applicable. Calenhad knew the risks of using such powerful magic, and if he was risking it... something was definitely not going according to plan.

Carver hit the door shoulder first and hurried down the entry way to where the fight was raging. Calenhad was there standing in the center of the room, his body ridged as he worked to keep control of his spells. Several men were pinned, wrapped in thick tendrils of dark, blue light while others were screaming as they were crushed by an invisible force. It was a combination of spells Carver had seen only three times, all three times were while they worked with the Reds. He was about to charge into battle when he saw a moment too late what was going to happen. Merrill was standing off to one side of the large room, the blood mist circling her body as she conjured her demon magic. Carver could almost feel it, the weight of her spell. He knew little of her magic, but by the looks it was massive, and if she released it toward her enemies...

"CALENHAD!" Carver screamed as he surged forward. His brother's head snapped toward him, hard, cold green eyes softening as the light around him dimmed slightly from the sudden change of concentration. And then like something out of a nightmare, he watched as his brother was hit by a massive wave of something dark, red, and evil. He saw with vivid clarity and utter horror as his brother's body was lifted into the air and thrown across the room. He heard several snaps as the small frame hit the wall and fell limp and lifeless to the ground. The blue light in the warehouse winked out like a candle in front of an open window. No slow decay as the spells ran it's course, no bright burst of light as Calenhad released then early. It was just gone.

Carver's first thought was to rush to his brother's side, but the sound of battle raged on in the room around him and could not be ignored. He raised his sword and rushed into the fight. The fight was quick, bloody and merciless. Carver found his mark with each swing of his sword, felt the hot spray of blood on his face and hands as each of the thugs in front of him fell. The pained yells filling his ears as he moved with the speed and dexterity of a well trained fighter. And then everything was still, sans the sound of his breathing in the sudden silence. He turned and ran to his brother's side, falling to his knees as the feeling of deja vu washed over him. The second time he found himself here, kneeling beside the broken body of a sibling he could not protect. He reached out and paused, his hand shivering just above his brother's chest. He wanted to know, needed to feel the heart that beat within but feared he would feel nothing but stillness.

Dear Maker no. Not him, please... not him. Curse you if you take him from me!

..~~

"Ser Hawke?" An almost familiar voice said somewhere deep in the haze of his mind. "Calenhad Hawke?" The voice sounded worried.

Calenhad opened his eyes slowly, blinking back the light and trying to bring the figure that stood over him into focus. His first thought was horror as he realized the figure above him was a Templar. Shining shield in one hand, enchanted flaming sword in the other. Calenhad sat up a bit too fast, his head reeling as the ground tilted under him. For a moment the world seemed to dim, and then slowly come back into focus.

"Easy Ser Hawke. I mean you no harm." The Templar said as he carefully sheathed his sword, the crystalline flames extinguishing as the blade disappeared from sight.

Calenhad looked up trying to focus again. After a moment of staring he realized he was staring at the face of Ser Bryant, the Templar from Lothering who had taken over when the Arl and his men had abandoned them. "Your..." He frowned as he looked around his surroundings. He was in the fade that much was sure. But... "I didn't create you." He said as he tried to push himself up only to find his left leg wouldn't cooperate.

"Of course you didn't. The Maker created me, just as he created the world." Bryant snorted as he stepped up beside Calenhad and offered his hand.

Calenhad looked up at him dubiously for a moment before he took the offer and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet. A wave of dizziness washed over him, every muscle in his body seemed to scream out in pain as the Templar wrapped one strong arm around his waist to steady him."I... hurt." he said confused as he leaned heavily on the other man, the hard steel making it a less then comfortable situation. "Where... Where am I?"

"You're in the Fade, big brother." A all too familiar voice said. "Even a dull-stone like you should recognize that."

Calenhad's head snapped up, his eyes pinned on the face in front of him. "Beth...Bethy!" He gasped as he stared at the woman before him. "It's... it's you. Really you." He whispered. It was Bethany. The one who died on the road to Denerim, not the imperfect clone he had created to fill the empty void in his dreams. He had tried so hard to recreate her and failed, but here she was standing before him... "Am I..." He tried to say but choked on the words.

Bethany shrugged as she moved to take her brother's other arm and help him to move and sit on something that looked like a large rock. "I don't know. The spirits here are not very forth coming with their information. But if you had to ask, then my guess would be no. Do you remember what happened Cal-cal?"

Calenhad sat down with a sigh, the pain in his body seemed to be ebbing a little, but it still hurt. He'd never felt pain, real pain, in the Fade before. There was never any pain in the Fade, but then again this wasn't his part of the Fade. "Why are you here?" He asked the Templar instead of answering Bethany's question.

"I died." The Templar said sadly. "I fell during the invasion of Denerim. The armies were late and we couldn't hold the gates." He shook his head. "So many died that day."

"I'm sorry." Calenhad said dumbly as he looked away from the pained expression on the other man's face.

Bryant smiled softly. "It's ok. I was luckier then some. The horrors the Darkspawn can inflict on the living... It is not something I would wish upon anyone. Besides, had I not died I would never had been able to help your sister here."

Calenhad frowned as he turned to his sister. "What does he mean?" He asked sharply, thoughts of demons tormenting her, using her spirit for their own fun and games.

Bethany shuddered at the memories of whatever had happened before the Templar intervened. "I was... trapped. Ser Bryant helped me stop the Nightmares." She answered and would say no more.

"Is that what this is?" He asked as he looked up at the sky. The black city was there, it was always there, floating so close and yet so far away. "Is this a nightmare?" He looked up at his sister again. It didn't feel like a nightmare, not exactly but sometimes the fade could be tricky, especially when you didn't have a say on how you entered.

Bethany laughed as she punched her brother in the arm, hard. "Oh thanks a lot Cal-cal! Your only sister is your idea of a nightmare! I come to keep you company and you call me a nightmare?! You ungrateful little tit!" `

"I didn't mean it like that!" He barked as he rubbed his arm. He sighed as he looked down at his feet, his mind a torrent of unanswered questions. "I just mean... I don't... I don't know how I got here." He was on the verge of tears as his mind wandered to other things. Things that he didn't want to lose, wasn't ready to leave behind just yet. And then one question came to the forefront of his mind. One he had wondered about for nearly two years "Bethany... Where did you go?" He looked over at her. "Why didn't you come home..."

"It's time for us to go." Bryant said in a clipped voice, cutting off the questions and turning away from the two siblings..

Calenhad looked up at the Templar, then followed the man's gaze toward something in the distance. It took him a second to figure out what it was he was looking at. Flowing red robes, deep crimson hair, the warm, soft glow to match. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the form approach them. "Hello Love." He said softly. "it's been a long time." he added pointlessly. Time for Spirits was a different thing entirely, if it existed at all.

The spirit before him smiled as it used both hands to gently shoo away the others. Bethany moved quickly to Bryant's side, barely missing the flowing robes that came close to brushing her arm "I will see you later dear Brother." She said cheerfully before turning and following the Templar away."And try not to do anything else stupid. Maker knows Carver needs you more then we do."

"WAIT! Bethy please, don't go!" Calenhad said suddenly jumping to his feet despite the agonizing pain the action caused. He quickly regretted the action as he wavered on his feet, another bout of dizziness washed over him as his vision once again began to gray. The Spirit grabbed Calenhad's arm to steady him, the warmth of the spirit flowed freely from it's hand to Calenhad ,enveloping the mage in the gentle red glow.

"We will have plenty of time later. Goodbye big brother! Take care of Mother and Carver for me." She smiled back at him before her form began to fade along with the Templar that walked beside her.

"No! Love please! Another minute!" The mage pleaded with the spirit though he knew it was already too late. Bethany was gone, leaving just him and the spirit.

Love shook it's head as it watched the mage with apologetic eyes. It smiled sadly as it reached out and pushed back Calenhad's hair from his face. Love's soft fingers brushed the mage's cheek in an almost intimate manor before leaning down and kissing the mage gently on the forehead, and Calenhad's mind went blank as his body filled with the warmth that Love possessed. Calenhad stood there, eyes blank as he watched the Spirit turn and walk away. Unable to breath, unable to move, unable to think as the light around him shimmered and faded. Like it's keeper, Love, fading away as his sister did in a flurry or flowing robes and a shimmering red mist.

..~~

Calenhad's eyes opened. The dim light from a candle was just bright enough, allowing him to make out the large spiderwebs draped between the weathered and warped wooden beams above his head. It wasn't a view he recognized, and for a moment he thought he was still in the fade. Another dream that wasn't his, only this time there were no familiar faces to welcome him. A darker side of the fade perhaps, a trap laid by the demons who ever craved the presence of the magic users. It was only a matter of moments before a large spider, or perhaps the demon itself lowered itself from the beams above, covering him and devouring him. And then he shifted, the sharp pain in his side clearing his head quickly and banishing such dark thoughts. He groaned slightly as he tried to sit up, only to feel a weight against his chest holding him down. He looked down and saw a hand over his chest, just above his heart and an arm a shade or two darker then his own and twice as thick. He followed the arm to the sleeping form at the edge of the bed. Merrill's bed. He thought as he glanced around the room, finally recognizing the decor, or lack there of.

"Cal?" Carver rumbled in a groggy voice as he removed his arm. "Maker's balls Calenhad!" Carver moved from the low chair he had been sitting on to the edge of the bed. He reached out slowly and took his brother's hand, as if he didn't believe he was really awake. "Thank the Maker Merrill didn't kill you."

"Merrill?" Calenhad frowned as the nights events began to slowly fill his thoughts. He remembered everything up to that moment. The moment he turned and saw his brother's face. The look of utter fear had been so out of place on him. And then there was the feeling of tearing flesh, his flesh. He reached down and raised his tunic, an old green thing several sized too big for him and not what he had been wearing earlier that day. He ran his fingers over a long scar that crossed his stomach, from his left hip to just below his right nipple. He had never had a scar before. Had never been hurt so badly he could not heal it completely. This wasn't his magic though, it must have been Merrill's work. She had never been a strong healer.

"Calenhad." Carver's voice had turned hard suddenly. "Look at me." He demanded. Calenhad glanced up at him with wide, worried eyes. Just like Calenhad. Always the worrier, be it because something is wrong, or because he thinks he's in trouble. "Brother... Damn it... From now on you will take no job without me. I don't care who gives it to you." He reached up and brushed a few loose strands of hair from Calenhad's face. "Do you understand me?"

"Carver?" Calenhad frowned slightly.

"Listen to me." Carver said quietly as he cupped his brother's cheek. He stared down at his brother, his elder brother. The small framed man with the eyes of an innocent child. How hard it was at times to remember that Calenhad was indeed the elder son. His big brother. It had always been Carver that filled that roll, always the one to comfort or protect. How many times had he done so over the years, when Calenhad was hurt or afraid. When he was more the child then the man. "When I... When we lost Bethany..." Carver paused clearing his throat. "It was like half my soul died there on that road with her. Maker Cal, you have no idea what it's like. How hard it is to lose a twin."

Calenhad looked away from Carver, his eyes filling with unshed tears as he shifted his gaze to the floor. It had been his fault she had died. It had been his duty to protect her from the darkspawn, a promise he had made, a promise he had failed to keep. It was words Carver had heard a thousand times over since they had come to Kirkwall. Their mother's cruel words taking form in his own heart.

"Don't Cal." Carver's thumb slipped over his brother's cheek, gently tracing the firebird before catching the moisture that clung to his lashes. "Just listen. And look at me." He said softly as he forced his brother's gaze back to meet his own. "Today when I saw you laying there and I thought... I thought... I thought you were dead. It felt as if the other half of me would die right along with you. Maker Cal I..." Carver's voice broke as he forced himself to continue in a harsh whisper. "I can't lose you."

"Carver, " Calenhad frowned slightly. "I don't under...

Carver leaned forward quickly and suddenly. His lips gently covering Calenhad's, swallowing the question and the helpless moan that forced it's way from his throat. For one blissful moment Carver knew peace. It lasted only seconds, and then the warmth of Calenhad's lips disappeared as he jerked his head back and instinctively covered his mouth, protecting himself. Carver immediately regretted his boldness when faced with those startled emerald eyes. He suddenly needed to be somewhere, anywhere but here faced with his brother's disapproving stare and his own weakness. The stain on his soul that had tormented him for so long now laid bare. Carver turned away, fighting against the pained longing that told him to remain, and stood. He got only a single step before small smooth fingers so unlike his own grabbed his wrist and bid him stay, even before the words had been spoken.

"Wait Carver. Please, don't leave. I'm... I'm sorry I..." Calenhad paused as he pulled at his brother's arm. Carver had stopped moving, seemingly frozen in place. Unable to leave, unable to turn back. "Carver … please." Calenhad pleaded, begged.

Carver finally turned back, unable to resist Calenhad's pleas when they matched his own need so acutely. He slowly sat back down at his brother's insistence, and then after another moment of his brother's gentle pawing, allowed himself to be pulled down to lay beside Calenhad. Small, frail arms drew him down and into the very embrace he had hungered for for so long. He rested his cheek on Calenhad's throat with a silent sigh.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... Carver... I mean we... Are you..." Calenhad stumbled over his words for several seconds before he finally bit down on his lower lip, silencing himself unsure of what to say or how to say it. But the flush that crept up his neck and across his cheeks spoke for him.

"I love you Calenhad. Too damn much." Carver said as he pressed a kiss to the ruddy skin that taunted him now with it's closeness. "I could never have lived with myself had you died without knowing that. Without me admitting this..." Another kiss, his tongue tasting Calenhad's pulse before he rose up to look down into his brother's face. "Was real." He finally finished feeling a surge of triumph wash through him as his brother looked up at him with eyes grown dark with desire.

"Carver." Calenhad whispered as his hand gingerly tangled in his brother's long dark locks. Carver's eyes drifted shut for just a moment, trembling at the feel of his brother's fingers against his scalp. But he could not ignore the tender insistence of his brother's hand as he gently tried to pull him down. Kiss me the gesture invited. Take me, make me yours. Carver leaned down slowly, giving his brother that last choice, and Calenhad's silence was more satisfying than any assurances he could have spoken. He claimed his brother's lips with all the pent up desire he had been so ashamed of. That he'd fought and been tormented by for so long. Mine Carver's heart hammered in his chest. At last, mine.

Calenhad did not pull away this time, but he did tense up for a moment. The last stab of guilt for their sin. And then his lips parted to Carver's questing tongue as his body became pliant and fluid in his brother's arms. Carver drew in a shuddering breath as he pulled away long enough to shrug out of his tunic. And then Calenhad's hands were on him, soft fingers and gentle caresses exploring and teasing his flesh until he knew nothing but the sweet fire they left in their wake.

..~~

Lazy kisses bled into an overwhelming sense of rightness as the two lay there in bed, damp naked bodies tangled together under a thin blanket. The herb sent of Calenhad's hair, the feel of his temple against Carver's lips, those slim fingers against his chest along with the tickle of his sleeping breath. These were the things Carver would keep in the secret places of his mind. These precious moments they had together. He doubted another opportunity such as this would present itself any time soon. The lonely ache the thought brought on was entirely different than the shameful hunger of before. He looked away into the darkness, trying to force away the knowledge of the coming nights in Gamlen's shack where Calenhad would be so close, and yet so untouchable. To linger on it would only invite anger, and now was not the time for such things.

"Something wrong?" The sleepy murmur, and the gentle hand on his arm, make his heart lurch.

"Nothing at all little bird. Nothing at all." Carver lied as he pressed his lips against the top of his brother's head. A lie, but Calenhad believed and snuggled against him.

*~*~*~*~*~
P.S. Sorry for the non graphic fade to black. I can't do sexytime scenes much to my own disappointment. A friend of mine might finish writing one and it will be posted as a short later.. IF.. don't hold your breath. The smoochy time part here was written in part by my good frind Bucklesinthesun at DevArt. *~*~*~*~*~*~