NOTE: I know that you don't know about either Janeka or Larius until later in Legacy, but I added in references because of the Warden's involvement in the quest. This was supposed to be part of a longer chapter, but I'm splitting it due to length (+7k words). Also, I know very little about the blacksmith trade, so I apologize for potential inaccuracies.

Chapter 2 Freedom's Call

The morning after the attack, Garrett had decided to visit of a few his contacts in the underground. The Coterie had nothing to offer except spiteful comments about the Carta trying to encroach on their territory and the river of blood that would flow. He went next to Johann, but found him just as puzzled and a bit amused at the most recent attempt on his life. The mercenary couldn't promise him anything except to keep an ear to the ground. It was Varric who was finally able to put some traction into the investigation. The Carta had been quietly working with the dwarven merchant guild for years, but there had been nothing but silence from their people for weeks. The last any had heard from them, there was a job up north that had required their most skilled rogues. Then, nothing. For them to suddenly show up and attack one of Kirkwall's most prominent, it made the hair stand up on the back of Varric's neck. He knew a few people who also knew a few people, so he let those people work behind the scenes and gather what they could. Garrett didn't like the idea of sitting around and waiting, but there wasn't anything else he could do.

In the meantime, he concentrated on building a new staff. The black oak base had proved very effective at casting his preferred primal and elemental spells. With six carved clear quartz crystals and a single ruby, he was able to refine his aim and better control the amount of power behind each spell. Once that base was finished, he set about making the structural reinforcements. Black oak was a heavy, thick wood that could take a large amount of damage from blunt force before cracking, but it could snap under a sharp blade. To combat the problem, Garrett decided to use volcanic aurum. It was a light metal that formed under the high pressure and heat of an active volcano. The high iron content made it appear black as night and smell ever so slightly of a forest fire.

He was able to get a good deal on several blocks of the raw metal from a smith who had set up near one of the Lowtown foundries. The smith had offered to make the plates and rings he wanted to put on the staff, but Garrett declined. He preferred to do the work himself when it came to crafting his tools and weapons. His father had encouraged such an attitude, often commenting how it was the smith who best knew the strengths and weaknesses of his craft. He thought that Circle mages were generally at a disadvantage as they rarely crafted their own staves. They were competent yes, but many never fully unlocked the potential of their power as the staves were generic and not created for individual talents.

After hearing about the Carta attack, Aveline had given him permission to use the forge just outside the barracks to make the new aurum plates that would cover the staff's black oak core. She was surprised to see him arrive with Carver and Anders wearing a thick, blackened leather apron and gloves. He had never told her about his time as a black smith's assistant. When asked, he shrugged it off. When living in a small farming community far from any decent market, the people learned a variety of skills to get by.

He and Carver had both been apprenticed under Arl Bryland's blacksmith, Mikhael Dryden. The man was a gruff, hot tempered individual who had no problem shouting at his customers and employers. When the Arl's militia had required all new armor and weapons, the smith found himself in need of assistance. Malcolm Hawke had caught wind of Mikhael's need and sent both boys to him. Mikhael made it clear he had no desire to take on either boy when he first met them. He thought they were dumb farm boys who wouldn't know which end of the hammer to use. He changed his mind after Garrett shook his hand in greeting. The smith felt the hard calluses and thick muscles of his hands and forearms and decided to reconsider. Mikhael respected people that had hardened themselves like stone and metal. If nothing else, he had a couple of strong backed pack mules.

Carver stayed on for a year before he joined the Arl's militia. The elder brother stayed for four, at which point Mikhael left Lothering and traveled onward to Gwaren. Garrett would never have the skill of Mikhael Dryden, as there were no dwarves to teach him the ways of molding metal and stone to his will, but he was competent at fixing weapons and the occasional broken piece of farming equipment.

Garrett and Carver set up the forge, adding the in the coal and making sure there is a large slack tub ready to cool the metal. Garrett cheated and lit the forge with a small fireball. Carver worked the bellows to bring them to a white hot temperature that could soften the metal just enough for Garrett to start shaping it. The bars were melted down into a glowing red liquid in an open mold. Using a pair of tongs, Garrett pulled out the bowl and poured the metal into several flat square molds that would serve as the base for the rings' shapes. The flat bars were allowed to cool to solid pieces before being plunged into the slack tub. The individual plates were set aside one by one as he worked to shape each one. He would reheat the flat bars until the metal was softened and lay them down on the anvil. Carver held the bars in place as Garret used a hammer to start bending the metal. A small shower of sparks flew off with each loud bang, Garrett using his full strength to form the aurum to his desire. The metal was resistant to anything short of Garrett putting all his weight behind the blows. He grunted with effort and was soaking from sweat by the time he finished with the last band.

He had to take a short rest and empty his canteen before he could finish. It had been some time since he had worked as smith and he had forgotten how exhausting it could be. His wounds from the fight were almost completely healed, but his back had started to stiffen from the repetitive movement. The vertebrae cracked and popped as he stood up and stretched to release some of the tension.

"Maybe I should have you fix some of my guardsmens' blades when you finish," Aveline said as she held up one of the half rings that Garrett would later bind to another to wrap around the staff. "I'm a little mad you never told me you could work a forge. You could have saved me a few silvers over the years."

"I've been a bit busy running around saving merchant caravans and killing bandits," Garrett replied with a small smirk, "that seemed a bit more fun than standing around and inhaling smoke all day." He swiped the band back and set it by the anvil. "Almost done here, just need to do some finishing touches before I put it all together." Promising to clean everything up once he had finished, he said farewell to Aveline before she left to start her patrol in Lowtown. He glanced up to see Anders leaning back against the wall opposite the forge. He had been watching the whole time with rapt interest. Garrett felt as small rush of heat that had nothing to with the forge behind him.

"See something you like?" Garrett teased as he sauntered over, coming close enough wrap his arms around the other mage's waist.

"Maybe," Anders laughed before wrinkling his nose, "no offense love, but you smell like bad eggs."

"It's the coal, the sulfur stinks." Garrett shrugged, he was used to far worse smells so it didn't bother him in the slightest. He was more concerned about the cough that smiths developed when working with poor quality fuel. His chest was already burning a bit from the fumes, so he intended to finish quickly. "Doing this sort of thing helps," Anders' raised an eyebrow in question, "working with my hands, working till I'm almost ready to drop, it keeps the need in check." Garrett was still struggling to keep the darker, aggressive side of his magic from taking over again. There would be moments where the frustration and rage would burn to near boiling inside as the hunt for the Carta was stalled. He would grind his teeth and his hands tremble as they balled into white knuckled fists. In those moments, he knew he was dangerous to the others around him. He'd try to separate himself from everyone, but as always Anders wouldn't let him. The blonde would gently cradle his head, rubbing soothing circles on his temples and resting their foreheads together. He only said one word, 'breathe'. Garrett would first exhale sharply through his nose before letting out shuttering exhalations as he came back to himself. They would get through this together, just as they had promised.

"I can't say I approve of it the long run," Anders ran his hands down Garrett's sweaty sides, "we need something a bit less intense than nearly killing yourself from fatigue."

"We will." Garrett affirmed with a quick peck to the other's lips, "I should finish up before midday, it's going to get to hot for me to continue." Garrett released Anders after another quick kiss and resumed his work. He used a small chisel and hammer to put in the runes that Sandal would later enchant when he returned to the Amell estate. It was a time consuming process that did not allow for error, but necessary if he wished to refine the staff for his own purposes. The last part was attaching the rings to the staff itself. This part required both Hawke brothers to work. One brother held the staff steady as the rings were hammered and bolted into position. With all the rings in place, Garrett was able to slot in the crystals and the repaired blade from his Father's staff. Carver had seemed happy to see a bit of his brother properly restored. The original staff was gone, bits of it had even been stolen by eager nobles who had wanted to collect a piece of the Champion. The blade their Father had used to defend himself and his family was once more in the hands of his eldest.

Garrett rolled the staff in his gloved hands when they had finished, carefully inspecting his work. Despite the lack of enchantments, he was satisfied. He felt more whole and in control now that he could properly fight and cast. "What should I call it?"

"Does it need a name?" Anders asked, he had never named any of his staves, but then again he had also never made one with his own hands.

"Of course, this little beauty needs a proper name." Garrett gave a small smile as he ran a hand down the length of the blade, "my father called his Rogue's Honor. My mother suggested it actually, he was going to call it Leandra's Song, but she hated it." Both of them smile at that, Malcolm Hawke trying to impress his sweetheart by naming his weapon after her. Not nearly as romantic as one might expect.

"Freedom's Call," Anders said, not sure where he had gotten the idea. It seemed appropriate for a weapon wielded by an escaped Circle Mage.

"Freedom's Call, I like it. Though I was thinking about naming it after you," Garrett chuckled as Anders rolled his eyes, "I'll stick with Freedom's Call. Thank you, love." The two were interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. "Varric," the blonde dwarf had a folded piece of paper in his hands and handed it over to the elder Hawke brother, "you've found something then?"

"One of my contacts just sent me something interesting," Varric looked sharply at Anders, "it seems there might be Warden involvement in this."

"What?" Anders spluttered, "are you sure?" The dwarf nodded, "but why? Why would they want to hurt Garrett?"

"It doesn't matter," Carver spat as he read the letter of his brother's shoulder, "the point is they did it and we're going to make them tell us why."

"No clue, and little Hawke is right, it really doesn't matter. My contact says the answers may be in an old fortress in the Vinmarks." Garrett scanned the letter, his brow furrowing as he did. It included some directions and a mostly blank map with very little to go on besides a name. Janeka. Senior Warden Janeka. "I'd finish up whatever business you have and get ready to head out soon. The letter is over three weeks old, no sure how good it is anymore."

"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Garrett refolded the paper and tucked into his pocket. He looked at his brother, the question of him coming along unspoken in his darkened eyes. Carver set his jaw firmly and nodded. He was not going to let his brother go on this little jaunt without him. They had a name at long last. Garrett would find this Janeka and finally get some answers from her. And perhaps a little payback was in order.

.1.1

The information Varric's contact sent them deep into the Vinmark mountains. Nathaniel and Bethany had wanted to go with them, but Garrett had put his foot down and refused to allow his sister to accompany them. He instead sent them to Ansburg to find any information they could on the old Warden fortress that the Carta was held up in. Bethany was not happy about being left behind, but Nathaniel was privately grateful not to be along for that particular adventure. He was wary of potentially betraying a member of his Order. His father had betrayed a nation and nearly allowed Ferelden to fall to the darkspawn. Nate Howe was not so eager to join his father in infamy. He had wished the others luck and that the Maker would bring them all back in one piece.

It had taken several days to reach the mountain passage that would take them to the isolated section of the vast range that hid the fortress. Finally, they had left behind the vast, green forests and valleys of the Vinmarks for a much more arid and dry place that seemed completely devoid of life. Even the air seemed thin and dry in their lungs, leaving a lingering trace of dust as they breathed. The only defining mark was a crumbling tower in the distance. Spotting the traces of a cobbled path, Garrett had run ahead of the others, strangely eager to survey this strange new place. He had been making regular additions to his maps as they had traveled north from Kirkwall. He knew it probably drove the others a bit crazy that he would run off or stay behind to work on his maps. But it seemed prudent to keep track of where they had been and where they were going. The maps he had looked at before they left were vague and had almost no features to indicate any landmarks. He wanted the security of being able to find their way home once they were done with this strange business.

"Brother, wait up!" Garrett stopped and waited for the younger Hawke to catch up. It was too bad he couldn't make jokes about running in skirts. Carver had ditched his full Templar armor for something less constrictive right before they left Kirkwall. He now wore a set that was a mix of deep red leather and silverite. The leather was so new that Garrett could still smell the oils the tanner had used to soften the hide. The only addition Carver had made was a piece of red silk that had a small Dalish symbol on the corner. A token of affection from a sweet elven mage no doubt. "Doesn't look all that dwarven does it?" Varric and Anders walked up together, having lingered behind a bit to discuss something. Likely more questions about the Champion of Kirkwall's love life and if Varric could use that as inspiration for his next book.

"These are carta dwarves. So they're more criminals and smugglers than anything else. They're not usually stupid though. I don't know why they'd attack any of you." Varric frowned in distaste. He always wondered why people thought it was a smart idea to attack Hawke. Hadn't they seen what happened to everyone else that had already tried? The mage had more lives than a cat.

"They gave it their best shot. I still can't believe they attacked us in broad daylight." Carver said. It had been utterly bizarre to watch a small squad of Carta dwarves jump down into the Gallow's courtyard and start screaming about blood. It was something more fitting a bad lyrium trip than reality.

"Thankfully they failed. And they haven't been able to kill any of us yet." Garrett agreed with his brother, he was still quietly fuming that someone had the nerve to come into his city and attack his family. He had tried to bottle it up as he made up numerous plans on how he would deal with the morons who had hurt his brother and sister. Anders would calm him when the fury started to become too much, but it was becoming more difficult as they got closer to their goal.

"You have a plan then big guy? I found their hideout but my sources couldn't tell me anything else. It's all very strange." Varric frowned and reached back to assure himself that Bianca was still strapped to his back.

"Why do you say that? It's just the Carta isn't it?" Garrett had dealt with their kind several times over the years, starting with his assistance of Lord R Harrowmont as he tried to escape to Rivain. He had seen more over the years, but most were just thugs hired by various crime lords and vindictive aristocrats. He was more interested in Janeka. The Carta was just muscle, the Warden was clearly the brains behind the scheme.

"As far as my contacts know, yes. But they shouldn't be here. There shouldn't even be a here. This place is invisible, a big blind spot on the map. Bianca's never been this suspicious and she's twitchy to start with." Carver interrupted Varric before he could continue.

"Does it matter? We just need them to stop trying to kill us." Carver had not been sleeping well since the attack, and he was grumpier than he had been in a long time. He had been aware that the other members of his Order were watching him more intently and wanted to resolve the issue so that he could continue his duties without further scrutiny.

"Fine point. What's the plan." Varric asked.

"Oh, I was thinking about asking them if they'd like to sit down and have tea so we could make nice. If they say no, I'll just rip out their entrails." It was chilling that Garrett could say the last bit with just as much cheer as if he really were planning to invite them all to tea. Anders knew that something had not been quite right with Garrett for some time now. Perhaps it wasn't obvious to most, but Anders could see the tightly coiled tension inside him. They had been doing what they could to control the darkness, but this journey seemed to be bringing closer and closer to the surface. Garrett glanced over at Anders after he had spoken and realized his mistake. He muttered a quiet sorry and let Anders take his hand in his for a firm squeeze.

"Uhh…right. I think we need a real plan." Carver said, "maybe something that doesn't involve decorating the walls with intestines." Garrett just looked down as his boots, not wanting to comment.

"I hate that they could get at you in our home. It worries me what else they could do." The Wardens had already had Anders go behind Garrett's back for the maps and now at least one had ordered an actual attack on him. Anders wanted to wrap his arms tight around Garrett and shield him.

"Maybe this is all a big misunderstanding," Garrett forced out a small laugh, "I'm sure we'll all laugh about this later."

"Hawke? Oh, I thought your name was Locke, my bad." Varric laughed and shook his head. Hawke could be quite ridiculous sometimes. Not so much in the last few months, but it was good to see this side of him again.

"Yes, we were looking for some other combination of general and ringmaster." Carver gave his brother a small punch to the arm.

"Enough, let's go. My teeth are starting to itch." Garrett was reluctant to let go of Anders' hand as his touch seemed to ground him, but it wouldn't do to be ambushed while holding his partner's hand. He gave it one last squeeze before letting go. They made it a bit further into the ruined pathway that might have been a causeway at one point in history, but the walls were little more than a knee high pile of stones on each side. There was no sign of life, only the sound of wind rubbing away ruined stone. The group continued for a little ways with no interruption, until they heard the sound of swift feet scrapping over stone. Suddenly, a dwarf appeared from behind a large pile of stones. His eyes were shining and distant and he wore the armor most Carta rogues favored.

"You're here, both brothers. You've come." The dwarf's voice boomed loudly off the stone walls, making everyone grasp their weapons in expectation of an attack.

"Oh joy, more tainted crazy people." Garrett could see that this was not going to end well, "like I haven't dealt with enough of those."