A/N: Hey thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing - this is my most read story now! Most followers and most reviews too (double more than any other!). Really means a lot to me, and I'm glad so many are enjoying it :)

Hawke put a few coins in the elven servant's grasp, and the girl curtsied before sneaking back out. Lingering in the kitchen by the low fires, it was a while longer before the door closed behind Bethany.

"Sister," she called, hurrying over to embrace Hawke.

Exhaling, Hawke said, "That's me. Glad to see you still remember."

"I've missed you so much," Bethany whispered, squeezing tight despite her sister's armour.

"And I you," she replied. "Should I pull your hair, just for old time's sake?"

Bethany laughed briefly, wiping a hand over her eyes as she took a bit of a step back, "You haven't changed."

"I'm not sure everyone would say that," Hawke said, settling onto the bench by the fire. Her sister joined her. "You'll have to thank Orsino again."

"Believe me I do," she softly sighed, looking down into her lap. She nervously glanced back at the door, shaking her head as it took a moment for her to speaks. "I keep thinking they'll be right there, listening to my every word. He grows more irritated by the day. But he's scared too. We all are."

"I know," Hawke said, furrowing her brow and taking her sister's hands. She was shaking. "I hear a little from Anders, but he hasn't been able to help his allies inside the same way."

"Meredith is growing more and more unreasonable," she whispered. "I haven't seen the sun in more than a month, and we are scarce even allowed to continue teaching the children. Oh Marian." Bethany covered her mouth, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"What is it?" Hawke asked, rubbing her thumb over the back of Bethany's hand.

"One of my students," Bethany whispered, smearing the tears from her eyes. "She went for her Harrowing this week, they say she died. But she was one of the brightest, I'm certain they just killed her outright. She had so much potential, and they just couldn't stand how strong she might be."

"Bethany, I'm so sorry," Hawke said, pulling her close again.

Bethany laid her head on Hawke's shoulder, closing her eyes as her voice trembled, "She reminded me of you. If you had been a mage, you'd have been just like her. And I - I can't cry around them, the templars are always there. I can't let them see, I can't give them that power over me."

Hawke trembled a bit, kissing her sister's hair, "We're getting you out of here."

"No - no, I can't," Bethany said, sitting back and sniffing in sharply. She wiped her eyes again. "They need me. And I can't leave Orsino to this. I've duties as an enchanter."

"You aren't safe here, Bethany."

"But neither are any of them, Marian," Bethany more forcefully said. She was on her feet, running her hands over her hair. "Others might just be able to run, but I can't. Never mind my phylactery. This is my family now, and they need me."

"I know," Hawke said, still sitting on the bench. She stared at the embrous fire. Bethany sat back down beside her and Hawke wrapped her arm around her.

"How is everyone?" she quietly asked.

"Varric is as sexy as every, Aveline's one of the only people trying to keep people sane," Hawke drew a breath as Bethany chuckled. "Merrill spends all her time with a broken mirror, might be a reflection of something."

"Sister," Bethany groaned. Hawke grinned, squeezing her knee. "What about you and Anders?"

"We're still living together," Hawke looked down. "It is difficult for him with what Meredith is doing in the city. But I'm helping him gather some things for a ritual or something like that."

"Are you certain that's safe?"

Hawke chuckled, "Truly, do you see me shying away from lack of safety?" She pressed her lips together before saying, "He says it will help free him from Justice. He might be normal again."

"Normal as a mage can be, anyway."

"Well, mages are normal to me," Hawke said, hugging her sister with one arm again. "It's all the rest of us that are deficient somehow."

"How kind of you," Bethany chuckled, and she leant into Hawke's arm with a soft sigh. They sat in the quiet, looking at the struggling fire. "It's the simple things I miss."

"I know," Hawke said.

"I miss the fields and grass," Bethany quietly said. "Feeling the soil in my hands. There are gardens here, but it isn't the same. Singing. Laughing."

"Is that forbidden here too?"

"No," Bethany said. "But you never want to the same way."

Talking through till the morning meal, Hawke embraced her sister tight as the cook returned. She waited for a templar she knew to help see her out the serving passage, climbing down a wall to drop into the main courtyard of the Gallows.

The templars stopped her as she returned to the docks, demanding she drop her hood and present her papers. When Hawke pulled it back, they grew rigid.

"My apologies, Champion, please continue on your way."

"Thank you, ser knight," she dryly said, before walking down to the docks.

"Thank you for your help," Anders said as they scaled the top of the wall in the moonlight. Varric sat beside them on watch as he and Hawke hauled up a rope.

"Well, you know me," the dwarf replied. "Nothing better to do at night than play with corpses."

"They aren't publicizing it anymore," Anders replied, pulling the body up with a sigh. "Good people. They only wanted to see their family again."

"We both know how much of a crime that is," Hawke murmured, and Varric held her leg for balance as she leaned to retrieve the other rope. "It would be easier to cut them down. I know, I know." They pulled up the third body, and Anders unrolled the linens from his pack, swathing the bodies before each of them tossed it over their shoulder.

"Darktown then?" Hawke asked, trying to shoulder the weight. "I'm not certain where a burning would go unnoticed otherwise."

"I have a place," Anders said, and they carried the bodies to the abandoned apartments they'd climbed up through. Manoeuvring down slowly, they hid in the shadows as a templar patrol passed, before finally slipping down into the mineshafts.

Struggling through the underbelly of the city, Anders spoke under his breath, "You were helping that Sebastian again."

"I don't know if I would call it that," Hawke murmured, moving slowly to shoulder the weight of the stiff body.

"You don't even believe in the Chantry," Anders replied, and Varric snickered.

"Like many things in this world, just because I don't believe in it, doesn't mean it isn't there," Hawke murmured. They walked on in the relative dark, before she continued, "It was a collection for orphans. I can't say no to children."

"No doubt a ploy to rout out potential mages - or adopt them into the faith," Anders sneered.

"Dear me, I thought it was to feed them," she replied. "How could I have gotten that wrong?"

"It's because they're children," Varric chipped in. "They're sneaky like that."

"I didn't mean it like that," Anders said, and they stopped in the passage he indicated. A large break in the wall opened to the ocean, and the sound of waves could be heard below. A sliver of light shone in from the half moon. "What if he turns Merrill or myself in? What then?"

"It won't happen, Blondie," Varric said, exhaling as he tossed the body down. He stretched his shoulder, "You worry too much."

"Perhaps if he were talking about you and the merchants guild you'd be more concerned," Anders said.

"You've got me there," Varric chuckled. "But I've also got a lot of other back up plans to catch me if I fall."

"I won't spend anymore time with him," Hawke said. They moved further away as Anders lit the bodies. "I don't enjoy his company, but I have the coin... I enjoy helping people."

"You could give your gold to me, if you didn't have any use for it," Varric said, looking up to her.

"Unfortunately for you, the kind of help you need money cannot buy," Hawke peered down at him. They silenced and covered their mouths as the bodies caught.

"There are a lot of good people in this city. People who are good to mages," Anders whispered grimly. "The Chantry wants nothing more than to drown them, and leave behind the obedient, silent masses."

Hawke put a hand on his arm, and he hung his head. She slowly said, "Would you like me to say something for them?"

"What can we say when the god we would pray to for guidance to is the cause of their death?" They were silent before Anders added, "The Grand Cleric should be the one cutting them down. The one seeing this. She condones it, she does nothing to protect them. Not even mages... just..." He fell silent.

Hawke put a hand on his back, "Then perhaps we can only hope they are in a better place than this."

"Wouldn't be hard," Varric said under his breath.

The world shifted in muted hues before pulling together. The soft crackle of the fire drew Hawke's eyes away from the bread in her hands. She wiped the flour from her nose, unable to keep back the sneeze. At the sound, their small tabby jumped on the table.

"Shoo, you don't want this," she murmured, and it hissed and swiped at her. "Bloody cat. Try that again and I'll feed you to his grace."

Wrinkling her nose, Hawke found the bread within a pan, and she set it into the fired oven, unable to feel its heat. The walls around her unravelled and rewove, and she was on the steps down into the entry hall, easily within the warm darkness of the library.

"Love?"

Anders moved along the bookshelf, unheeding of her presence. He evenly said, "I came to collect my books."

"Funny joke," Hawke nervously laughed, struggling to see properly as she stepped closer. "I deserve that."

"There is a place for me in the Circle," he said without inflection. He put another book in his satchel, turning to her. There was the undeniable brand of the Chantry sun on his forehead. "I will be able to study there."

"Stop it," she whispered, reaching for him with a sudden, frantic need.

But he no longer stood there, and the light from the high windows was fading. Hawke struggled to breath, a throbbing pain behind her eyes as a bookshelf nearby slumped in ruin. They were decaying, and she couldn't feel her hands. His grace lay dead in the corner, but somehow she remained, struggling to see. If she could only open her eyes.

Hawke trembled in her bed, slowly opening her eyes in the dim room. The grogginess of the Fade clung as she moved, feeling the sheets and moving her fingers. She breathed deep, rolling onto her side.

The bed was empty, and she pawed the cold, unslept space. Hawke shuddered again and closed her eyes, a soft whine in her throat. Her mabari stirred from the end of the bed, and it shook with the weight of his movement. He crawled up her, licking her face and forcing her to hug him.

Closing her eyes, Hawke hugged his muscular neck, blinking away the dampness in her eyes as she whispered, "Good boy."

Throwing on a simple robe as she pulled out of bed, the mabari laid in Hawke's place as she hurried out of her room. She could see the candlelight from the library, and the pain in her chest tightened. Taking the steps silently, she looked to where Anders worked by candlelight, one hand moving with a quill, the other upon the cat in his lap. She cautiously approached, running her hands over his shoulders and neck, and he pulled a scrap of paper over what he was reading.

"I thought you'd gone to sleep," he said, his voice cracking from disuse.

"I had," was all she said, putting her lips in his hair and breathing him in. Hawke's hands dropped down under his armpits, suddenly tickling him.

"Stop, I need to finish this," he coughed a few times, squirming in the chair. He cleared his throat, "Marian, please."

"I just need to hear you," she whispered, pinning him into the chair as her fingers moved again. "I don't care if it's anger or anything."

When he wriggled more, she bit his neck, and Anders jerked into a forced laugh. The tabby in his lap leapt away, and he tried not to laugh as he said, "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't remember when I last heard you laugh," Hawke murmured, tracking him as he turned in the chair, nipping at his neck again before sitting on the table. "I needed to."

"Weird, even for you," Anders replied, exhaling and moving some things out of her way.

"I'll go, I promise," she whispered, looking down and crossing her arms. "Just kiss me like it's the last time you'll ever see me?"

Anders' eyes passed over his work before looking up to her, a ghost in his eyes. She had a dubious, lopsided grin, and he took her hand to pull from the chair. Slipping his hand into her hair, he drew her in and kissed her roughly, his other hand soon winding about her waist. Their tongues met with progressive need, and he tightened his grip in her hair, his lips soon smearing across her cheek as he clutched her close.

Hawke exhaled softly through her nose, closing her eyes as she whispered, "Not bad."

Holding her still, Anders kissed her hair and caressed her cheek as he let her go and said, "I'll be up shortly, I promise."

Touching the amulet around his neck, Hawke nodded, kissing his nose before leaving again. Left alone in the library, Anders leant onto the table, gripping it as he shuddered and hung his head. The small tabby beside him mewed, unheeded.