Rajmael of Clan Lavellan

by Powerslammer

Rajmael is an elf possessed of great pride and an incredible power. Born with a powerful name and a greater destiny, he has lived his whole life by the the Vir Tanadhal. And now he must use his ancient knowledge to stand against forces that threaten his world and everything he loves. Watch as he stands as a Dalish Elf, a Herald and as The Inquisitor. Please, please review.

39. The Untold Chapters: Part I

~The Untold Chapters: Part 1~

After killing the Arishok in single combat, Garret Hawke became the first foreigner to ever be declared Champion of Kirkwall, one of highest honors in all the Free Marches. This title, and all the accolades that came with it, added to his already famous name. The very outline of Hawke's life made him the subject of many stories and songs, many of which were composed and embellished by Varric. From refugee to nobleman to protector of one of the largest city-states in the Free Marches. Hawke now had more wealth and fame than he knew he had ever dreamed of.

However, it was not all champagne and caviar. With this new title and fame, came all the grave responsibilities that followed. With the death of Viscount Dumar and the murder of his son Seamus, the Templars became extremely powerful, more so than they already were. Knight-Commander Meredith all but took control of the city, imposing her will on its citizens, and a new regime on the city. The already difficult lives of the city's mages became even more unbearable. The Gallows became a prison in all but name, and the city a police state. Some resisted, and Meredith cracked down harder. The harder she came down on them, the more desperate and inethical the mage's means became, which fueled Meredith's justification for her harsh treatment. It was a vicious and endless cycle.

The city was becoming a cauldron of anger and resentment, and it was one bad temper away from boiling over. Many looked to Grand Cleric Elthina to stop this madness, but she insisted on neutrality, giving support to neither one side or the other. Everyone, Mage and Templar, citizen and noble, ended up looking to one man who could possibly stem the tide: Garret Hawke.

~XoXoXo~

"I know you fear us!" First Enchanter Orsino yelled to the large crowd of people who had gathered in the Hightown square. In the years since Viscount Dumar's death in the second Qunari Invasion of Kirkwall, the First Enchanter had become a very outspoken critic of the Templars. Today was the largest crowd he had ever gathered, and he meant to get their attention. "Knight-Commander Meredith uses that fear to take control of your city! She opposes any effort to replace Viscount Dumar, and you have seen the chaos of her reign! Will you allow it!?"

The crowd of gathered citizens and nobles murmured and spoke amongst themselves. Perhaps there was truth to his words. Many of them were growing tired of having Meredith trample on their rights, wanted to have a leader who would look out for them, not intimidate them. But then...

Speak of the demon, and she shall appear.

"Return to your homes. This farce is over." The Knight-Commander ordered with her infamous cold indifference. In an instant, everyone's spark of courage was smothered, and did what Meredith commanded.

"Wait!" Orsino yelled. "Perhaps there are some here who might disagree with you, Knight-Commander."

Everyone's attention was directed to the Champion of Kirkwall as he made his way through the crowd. Every pair of eyes looked at him with great respect, and all them wanted to hear him to act as their voice in this matter. Garret looked at both the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander with a deathly serious in his eyes.

"Champion, please. I've got a daughter in the Circle. Not all of them are a danger." One of the noble's pleaded.

"Serrah Hawke, the Templars are here to defend us, aren't they?" Asked another.

Garret approached the arguing mage and Templar calmly. He felt like the mediator between two lords in vicious land dispute at the Fereldan Landsmeet. Or worse, like a mediator between an arguing, hateful husband and wife going through a deadly separation.

"The Champion has proven himself Kirkwall's greatest protector. I doubt that he favors sedition." Meredith assured confidently.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Meredith. I can speak for myself." Hawke said harshly. "These arguments of yours are becoming more and more irksome."

"This is no argument, this is treason." Meredith growled.

"I think the Champion's views would be appreciated." Orsino pointed out. "Or do you fear what he has to say?"

"I fear nothing." Meredith said authoritatively. "My only interest is protecting the innocent and rooting out corruption."

"Is that what you call locking all the mages in their rooms like prisoners? Or using the Rite of Tranquility on ten people in a single month?!" Orsino demanded.

"What would you rather have? That those of you who are a danger be left unchecked? That the people of this city find out what you're actually doing and tear down the Gallows' walls with torches and pitchforks?" Meredith rebutted. "Would that be better?"

"It cannot be worse. Your refusal to listen to reason has left me no choice." Orsino argued.

"What I refuse to listen to are excuses. Perhaps you are ill-suited to your position if you cannot understand that?" The Knight-Commander threatened subtly.

"Maybe what you both need to do is shut up for a moment. All you're doing is making people nervous." Hawke interrupted, pointing to the many fearful looking faces in the crowd. "Orsino, do you truly think its wise to stir action against the Templars, given what they could do to you?"

"It's what they have done to us that I am inciting action against her." Orsino insisted. "The people of this city need to know what is truly happening."

"The only thing that has happened is that I have performed my sworn to keep this city safe." Meredith shot back. "And I will continue to do so until all threats to this city are no more."

"So you'll just stonewall these people, deny them their right to choose their own leader, decide their own fate? None of this justifies how extreme your measures have become." Hawke denounced. As a Fereldan, he knew that no one had the right to strip the freedoms and independence of others for personal gain. "What you have done to this city isn't duty, it's cruelty! You're nothing more than a tyrant using religion and duty as an excuse. You have no right to strip these people of their freedoms!"

"What would you have me do!? Could you do better, Champion?" Meredith demanded emotionally. "How well did you protect your own mother? Was she not killed, mutilated by a mage's hand?"

In that moment, Hawke's diplomatic demeanor shattered like a mirror, and he just about lost his mind. The memory of his mother's death still haunted him; it a subject none dared to bring up so callously around him. The Templars around Meredith quietly took several steps back. "How dare you?! My mother died because you were too busy brutalizing your own charges instead of investigating real threats. My mother's death, and all those women Quentin killed is on your hands, not the mages'!"

"I know." Meredith acknowledged almost sympathetically. "Dead bodies and failed citizens speak more loudly than abstract freedoms. Freedoms and weak willed bureaucrats that allowed men like Quentin to kill your mother. Don't you understand, Champion? As long as that's true, Kirkwall needs its Templars more than it needs a new ruler."

Hawke was unmoved by the Knight-Commander's attempts to convince him. If anything, her words only made him angrier and his sword hand itch. "You dare to use my mother's death as a smokescreen to cover your bullshit? You dare to dishonor her memory like that to my face?! I should fucking kill you!"

Meredith's Templars drew their swords and surrounded their leader. Hawke grabbed the Celebrant, ready to follow through with his threat.

"That is quite enough." A gentle voice called sternly. The entire crowd parted to make way for Grand Cleric Elthina, showing her all the respect that was owed to their beloved spiritual leader. Despite the fact that this argument looked as though it was about to turn into a battle, the elderly Grand Cleric strode calmly to the heated debate as though she were about scold a group of children fighting over a toy. "My, my, such a commotion!"

"This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace. I am dealing with this matter." Meredith informed staunchly.

"Are you now?" Elthina observed, not very impressed. "Orsino, I know you are frustrated. But do you honestly think this is truly wise?"

"I...no, Your Grace." Orisno admitted in defeat.

"You're finally listening, aren't you?" Hawke pointed out defensively.

"Yes, Champion, but this is no way to settle a dispute." Elthina responded calmly. "Young men, would you kindly escort the First Enchanter back to the Circle? Gently, if you please."

The Templars did as they were bade, but Meredith stood outraged.

"Your Grace! This mage incites rebellion, dares to question the Order's duty! He should be clapped in irons, made an example of!"

"That's enough, Meredith." Elthina bade. "This display of yours demeans us all, surely you can see that? Go back to the Gallows now and calm down, like a good girl."

Meredith's face twisted in frustration, but she bowed to the Grand Cleric's wishes and left.

Elthina turned to the Champion with deep concern in her eyes. "I understand what you were trying to do for Orsino, Champion, and Meredith had no right to use your mother's death against you, but do you honestly believe that such action would have solved anything?"

"Do you honestly believe that sending them back to their rooms like misbehaved children will do anything?" Hawke countered lividly. "I'm a Fereldan, Your Grace. I favor action, not indolence. And I certainly won't stand for anyone using my mother's death for their own gain."

Elthina sighed sadly and turned to the crowd of people. "Good people of Kirkwall...return to your homes. I implore you. This problem will not be solved today."

The crowd departed, many of them talking amongst themselves about what was going to happen. Who was right? When will they be safe in their own city again? They left with their hearts heavy with worry.

"That's it? You're just going to send everyone home?" Hawke asked incredulously.

"What would you have me do, Champion?"

"Anything!" Hawke shouted. "This city is one bad day away from being a killingfield between those who are pro-Templar and those who are pro-Circle. You can't just keep claiming neutrality and hope everyone sees it your way."

"I pray you are wrong, Champion, I truly do." Elthina sighed wearilly. "There has been enough death in this city. Now, I must attend to the Gallows. The two of them will see reason, if the Maker wills it."

Hawke looked at the Grand Cleric with contempt in his eyes. Ever since Seamus Dumar was killed by Mother Petrice, Hawke had blamed Elthina for much of the city's problems. Meredith strips this city of it rights and freedoms, Orsino demands justice, and Elthina refused to aid either side. If the Maker wasn't going to stand in and save this city, then Hawke was going to do it for Him.

~XoXoX~

Varric woke up in his chair in Skyhold with a start, Bianca resting right next to him. Maker's breath, it had been years since he thought of that day, much less dreamed of it. The day when Hawke all but declared his support for the Mages. Times were tense then, but at least Varric had the Hanged Man. That fowl-smelling den of depravity was his safe haven in that crazy city. Here in Skyhold, Varric just claimed a seat by the fire. And the Tavern here had nothing on the Hanged Man. It was so clean it practically squeaked. It lacked character, and the smell of stale piss and vomit that came with it.

It had been a couple of weeks since the death of Corypheus, and many were still celebrating, even as though there was still so much work to be done. Tracking down what was left of the Venatori, cleaning up the red lyrium, rebuilding in Sahrnia. The list went on and on. But not for Varric. He did his share when he helped Inquisitor Lavellan solve the Orlesian Civil War, stop a demon invasion at Adamant Fortress, and then finally kill Corypheus. Now it was time for the handsomest dwarf and best writer in all of Skyhold to enjoy some relaxation. Maker knows he probably won't get that much when he returns to Kirkwall.

Varric sat in his usual spot by the fireplace with a tall mug of cold ale and propped his feet on the table with Bianca resting right next to him. It was a warm day in Skyhold, and since there was no world threatening catastrophes going on or ancient magical horrors running amok, he was looking forward to just enjoy a nice lazy-day all to himself.

The same couldn't be said about certain other people. Almost everyone was running around trying to get ready for Leliana's coronation as Divine. The very thought of a Divine who knew everyone's dirty secrets almost as well as the Maker kind of scared Varric. Cullen was making sure that Leliana had the proper honor guard prepared while Josephine was looking over all the catering details, the guest list and decorations. Eager to resume her role in the Divine's service, Cassandra was now following Leliana around like her shadow, much to the future Divine's dismay. And Leliana was just trying to find a moment to herself away from everyone's fawning and the annoying taylors who were trying to get her measurements.

"Everyone, please!" Leliana shouted desperately. "My coronation is still weeks ahead. I don't need people fussing over me until I am at least sitting on the Sunburst Throne. Please, let's all just sit down and relax."

"As you wish, Your Perfection." Josephine curtsied politely.

"Josie, please! I don't need you doing that yet." Leliana whined.

Cullen shooed the tailors away like they were a herd of swine stinking up the place. "Go on, now. You heard the Divine. Go circle like buzzards around someone else."

Josephine sat herself at the table where Varric was, and poured herself a drink from the pitcher of ale Varric had there. "Oh, Maker. I haven't slept a wink sense the Grand Cleric declared Leliana to be Divine. So much to do!"

"I know how you feel, Josie." Leliana sighed, sitting herself down. "It still doesn't seem real. Me, Divine? I never dreamed of such a thing."

"After everything that's happened, I don't think there's anyone else who deservers that title more than you." Cassandra assured. "You knew Divine Justinia even before she was Divine. I think you're probably the most prepared for this role than anyone in all of Thedas."

"Just think of all the precendents you're setting." Cullen added. "First you were a bard, then you were a companion of the man who stopped the Blight. Spymaster to the previous Divine and then the Inquisitor. I don't think there's any Divine in all of history with a more storied life."

"Please, don't, Cullen." Leliana urged. "I'm getting a headache just thinking about it."

"Varric what are you doing?" Cassandra inquired, though the answer should have been obvious.

"Seeker, I am very busy with a matter of the utmost importance. It called 'Rest and Relaxation'. You should try it some time, or do you only do that when you and the Inquisitor lock the door to his room behind you?" Varric answered, resuming his drink while Cassandra fought the urge to blush.

"That's sounds like a wonderful thing to do right now. Would you mind telling us a story, Master Tethras?" Josephine asked on a whim.

"Yes, please." Leliana requested. "Something to take our minds off of everything else."

Varric slowly drank down his mug of ale then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse a request from the future Divine? Now, what kind of story could I tell you to get your minds of your current situation?"

"Perhaps you could...tell us about one of your upcoming novels?" Cassandra suggested tentatively.

"Sorry, Seeker, but I told you already, I don't have the next issue of 'Swords and Shields' ready." Varric's reminder made Cassandra pout slightly. The dwarven rogue thought for a moment, and finally recalled the perfect tale. "Okay, I got one. A story I haven't told anyone. Even when Cassandra was giving me that scary look of hers back in Kirkwall."

"Really, Varric?" Cassandra scoffed. "You still withheld information from me? I cannot decide if you're the bravest dwarf I ever met or the stupidest. Is this another one of those tales you conveniently forgot? Like that one with Tallis?"

"It had nothing to do with your investigation, Seeker." Varric assured. "And besides...this was actually a story I did my damndest to forget."

Now that instantly grabbed everyone's attention. A tale not even Varric wanted to remember? Now they had to hear it.

"Hey, guys. What's going on?" Iron Bull asked, appearing out of nowhere.

"Shh!" Josephine hushed. "Master Tethras is about to tell a story."

"Oh, really? You knew Krem's been dying to hear one of your stories. Let me go get the boys."

"Sure thing, Tiny. While you're at it, why don't you guys get some more drinks? This is going to take a while." Said Varric.

Iron Bull shortly came back with all his Chargers, and they brought two barrels of ale with them. With such a huge gathering of people showing up in the Main Hall, others soon showed up. Rajmael was sitting next to Cassandra, the two of them now holding hands. Josephine sat with eager enthusiasm that was shared by Leliana. Sera, Blackwall, Dorian, and even Vivienne gathered around to hear this little tale. Varric was finally in his comfort zone. It wasn't the Hanged Man, but it would do. He was surrounded by a large gathering of people who were standing around to hear him jack his jaw with a mug of cold ale to keep his throat from getting dry. This might turn out to be a good day.

"To first understand this story, you're going to need to know where Hawke stood with the rest of us." Varric explained. "Some good, while others were not so good. Obviously, you all know where he stands with me, but aside from the Seeker here, none of you know that part of the story. So bare with me for a moment, and I'll tell you what Hawke's companions thought of him. Or maybe I should say, how he thought of us."

~Bethany~

Hawke made his way to the Gallows, a trip he never liked or took lightly. In the past few years, his disdain for this wretched building from when the Imperium ruled this region only intensified, but he had a very important reason for being here, especially today. He held the parcel he was carrying very close to him, wanting to make sure that absolutely nothing happened to it. It was far too important.

For the past six years, his sister Bethany had called this cold prison home, instead being where she belonged, with him and the rest of the people who loved her. And with the actions Meredith had taken in the past few years, Hawke had become more and more worried about Bethany's safety than ever before. His worst fear is that one day he would show up here and discover that his sister had been made Tranquil, a thought that haunted him every day. But if that ever did happen, Hawke swore that someone was going to answer for it.

When Hawke entered the Gallows Courtyard, he was shocked and appalled by how few mages there actually was, and at how many had been made Tranquil. Hawke had heard from Anders, and many people within the city, how their children or siblings had been made Tranquil for the most minor of offenses. He had also been hearing about how the Templars had been barging into people's homes for suspecting them for harboring apostates, treating them like criminals for assisting their family member, like it was their right to do so. Something needed to be done, but that wasn't why Hawke was here today.

Some of the Templars saw the Champion and were eyeing him like he was a rabid dog or an obvious threat. After that display with Meredith in the Hightown Square, Hawke didn't blame them, or really care.

Hawke's feelings of hostility and disgust spiked when he was approached by the one Templar in all of Kirkwall he actually wanted to kill besides Meredith: Cullen.

"Champion." Cullen addressed politely if not apprehensively. "It would seem that you've become less of a friend to the Templars since your ascent. What can I do for you?"

"I was never a friend of the Templars, least of all you, Cullen." Hawke deeply offended. "I'm here to see my sister."

Cullen sighed dismally. He knew the Champion resented him for taking his sister away, but his duty to the Order was clear. "Champion, the Knight-Commander has ordered that..."

"Is my sister imprisoned?" Hawke interrupted.

"No."

"Has she been found guilty of a crime?" Hawke asked.

"No, she has not." Cullen assured.

"Then there should be no issue. I am not here for you, Cullen, and I certainly don't give a damn about Meredith. But if you won't let me see my sister, you and I are going to have a problem you don't want to have."

"Very well, but I will need to see that package you're bringing before I can allow you any further." Cullen stated.

Hawke held his parcel close, refusing to give it up. "This is nothing your eyes are meant for, Cullen. Nor is it anything dangerous, enchanted or otherwise remarkable. It is something for Bethany, and Bethany alone."

"I realize the importance of that, but my orders stand." Cullen insisted fervently. "All packages being delivered to mages must pass a thorough inspection."

"Hang your orders for all I care." Hawke glared. "If I wanted to break my sister out of the Gallows, I guarantee that I would do it very openly and with lots of violence. I promise, that what I have here is nothing dangerous and more than perfectly safe. My word is the only thing you need.

Cullen sighed and decided to relent. Hawke was a man of considerable means in this city, and if he wanted to break his sister out of the Gallows, Cullen suspected he would have done it already. The Templars were already losing support, and they very well might lose all they had left if he refused to let the Champion see his sister.

For the past few years, the people have become less receptive of the Templars in this city. Even criticizing them as brutes and tyrants, despite the fact that these measures were made to keep them safe. There were so many Maleficars running rampant in this city, Meredith was doing what was necessary. Why couldn't they understand that? He would have thought that the Champion of all people would understand the Order's duties after what happened to his mother, but after what he saw almost happen when the Knight-Commander mentioned that, Cullen dared not bring it up.

"Very well, Champion. Come with me." Cullen relented. Being an older brother himself, he couldn't deny this man wanting to see his younger sister.

~XoXoXo~

The younger Hawke child was sitting at her desk in her private quarters. Things had gotten pretty bad for the mages since the Qunari invaded. So many of her peers had been turned Tranquil, and for the most minor offenses. The Templar who took her from her family, Cullen, at first, seemed like a decent man, but what kind of decent man could stand by and let someone like Meredith do the things she did?

Things had been so bad lately it almost made Bethany cry just thinking about it. She used to think she was cursed for having magic, but now she couldn't help but think her whole life was a curse. First her father, the man she thought knew everything, and was the best mage she ever knew, died of a wasting disease. Then her twin brother Carver was killed because he was stupid enough to attack an ogre by himself. Then she had to learn from her uncle Gamlen that her mother had been murdered. She had to request special permission to attend her funeral, and even then she had to have Templars escort her. It was like they didn't even care that her mother died, they just wanted to make sure a mage wasn't too far out of their sight.

When she was first taken to the Circle, she thought she'd hate it at first, given how terrible the rumors were about the Templars. But to her surprise, she actually enjoyed life amongst her fellow mages. She especially loved teaching the children basic spells the way her father taught her. However, now the mages were all but forbidden from practicing their magic, and instead if teaching the children how to control their magic, they were mostly treated like prisoners and not allowed to learn any magic at all, like they were the biggest threats of all. Maker, why did her life have to be so complicated?

There was a light knocking at her door. Bethany was somewhat confused by who could be knocking. If it was a Templar knocking, it would sound more like a pounding meant to announce their entry into her room. Or they would simply barge in without such courtesy. Someone was knocking as though they were requesting permission to enter, which was unusual in the Gallows.

"Come in." Bethany called. Her eyes lit up with surprise and joy to see her big brother walk through her doorway with that smile of his on his face. "Garret!"

Hawke hugged sister closely, overjoyed to see his sister unharmed. "Hello, Bethany. I'm sorry I haven't seen you in so long."

"It's alright, Brother. I know you've been busy, being the Champion and all." Bethany replied, returning her brother's affection.

Hawke's feelings of familial warmth were interrupted when he realized that Cullen was watching them from the doorway.

"You can leave us, now, Cullen. My sister and I have some catching up to do, and family business is best done in private." Hawke spoke with his eyes piercing at the Templar.

"As you wish, but I will remain on the other side of the door until you're finished." Cullen stated. He closed the door and left the two siblings alone.

When Hawke was satisfied that Cullen's nearby presence wasn't going to be a problem, he sat down on a chair across from Bethany who sat on her bed. It had been far too long since they had been together. Not since the Qunari invasion, and Hawke didn't fancy having another reunion with Bethany being on a battlefield.

"Bethany, tell me honestly, how are things here in the Gallows right now?" Hawke asked seriously.

Bethany wanted to say that everything was fine, that she was still happy living amongst other mages, but she was never able to fool her older brother, even when they were children. "I won't lie, Garret, it's been...very difficult. The curfews, the inspections, and the Templars' treatment, it's getting worse. Some people, even some of the Templars are whispering the Meredith is going mad. Orsino does what he can, but it doesn't seem to be enough, and I think the strain of it is getting to him. He seems so tired all the time, and sometimes I see him staring off like he's in an angry trance, like he's going to snap."

"Are the Templars really going that far?"

"I'm sure you saw just how far they've gone when you entered the courtyard." Bethany reminded. "There have never been so many Tranquil in a single Circle before. It's supposed to be a last resort, but it's the first thing Meredith does when she thinks any mage is a threat by breaking whatever rule she's imposed."

"And what about you, Bethany? Have there...been any threats against you?" Hawke asked with worry in his voice.

"I always feel the Templars' eyes on me, constantly watching me, or maybe even come up with an excuse to brand me, but no, there's been no moves made against me." Bethany answered. "All things considered, I have been on of the lucky ones. The Templars seem to avoid showing me the same harshness they show others. I think it's because they are more afraid of you, and the Knight-Commander doesn't want anyone to use the brand on me unless she wants to make an enemy out of you."

Hawke took Bethany's hand in his, his face deathly serious. "Bethany, listen very carefully. If you want, I can get you out of here. Anders and I have discussed it, and we may have a way to get you out of the Gallows. I already failed to keep you out of here, but maybe I can get you out. You don't deserve to live like this."

Bethany was shocked at what her brother was saying. It was no surprise that Anders had a way of getting her out, but was Garret really willing to risk so much for her? She held her brother's hand tightly in hers, already knowing her answer. "Garret, you're my brother and I miss you everyday, but no. I cannot. No deserves to live like this, but how can I simply just run away when so many other mages are suffering. You cannot simply run from your problems when things get difficult. You taught me that."

"And Father was the one who taught me." Hawke smiled proudly at his sister. "I promise, Bethany, I'll find a way to solve this."

"I know you will. You're my brother as well as the Champion." Bethany smiled back. "Growing up, I always thought you could do anything, and I still believe that now."

"I try, what Hawke could do any less? There's on more thing I need to give you." Hawke grabbed the package he brought with him and handed it to Bethany. "I was about to fight Cullen over this, but he decided to let it slide."

"You mean you weren't here just to ask me if I wanted to leave?" Bethany asked curiously.

"It was a reason, but not the reason. Go on, open it." Hawke urged.

Bethany carefully opened the package. Her heart almost burst with such joy it brought tears to her eyes. She had never in her life wept tears of joy like she did now. Inside the box was a small cake that had been carefully and beautifully designed, like something a noble would eat. On the cake written in frosting was an inscription.

Happy 24th Birthday

Bethany & Carver

"You remembered." Bethany hugged her brother close to her. There was so much dread going on that Bethany had forgotten her own birthday, but her big brother didn't. Her birthdays never felt as happy as they once did ever since Carver died, but Garret brought that joy back to her. She wept into his chest like she used to when they were children and she'd scrape her knee. He would always carry her and make sure she was alright.

"It's not a day I could ever forget." Emotion rained over Hawke like a storm as he held his sister close to him. He never liked crying in front of his sister, but she was the only one of few people who could ever see him cry. "Now make a wish, for you and for Carver."

Bethany sniffed back her tears and magically lit the candles on her cake. She made on wish for her, and one for Carver. She held the wish close to her heart in the hopes that it would come true.

"Happy birthday, Bethany." Hawke held out a very small box, one he kept hidden from Cullen.

"Oh, Garret, you didn't need to do this." Said Bethany.

"You really think I was just going to smuggle a cake to you, Bethany? No, the sister of a Champion deserves better than that." Hawke chuckled.

Bethany opened the box, and it took everything she had not to cry again. She couldn't believe he was giving this to her. "This...this is mother's locket. I never thought I would see this again."

Bethany unlocked her mother's precious belonging and saw the pictures that were housed inside. One was their mother and father's wedding picture, the other was of all them standing together as a family, back when they were children.

"Oh, Garret, this perfect. Thank you." Bethany wanted with all her heart to wear the locket proudly, but knew the Templars might confiscate it, so she placed it in one of the pockets of her robe to keep it safe.

Hawke hugged his sister once more, doing his best not to let his emotions get the better of him. "You're all the family I have left, Bethany. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you. I'll figure a way to stop this madness."

"I know you will." Bethany sniffed. "Mother, Father, Carver, I know they'd all be so proud of you. I've always been. Thank you for looking after me."

~XoXoXo~

Hawke exited his sister's quarters and found Cullen standing not that far away. If he heard Hawke's moment with his sister, he didn't show it. The emotion Hawke previously had on his face was there no longer, and he greeted the Templars with the same grim indifference he had when entered the Gallows.

"Are you finished with your business with your sister, Champion?" Cullen asked politely.

"Yes." Hawke answered. "But my now it's time to start my business with you."

"Excuse me?" Cullen asked, not taking well to the Champion's threatening tone.

"No, I don't think I ever will excuse you." Hawke retorted. "You're the one who took my sister from my family, so I suggest you listen very carefully: Bethany is all the family I have left in this world, and I will not lose her to anything. So if anything does happen to her in this miserable den of slaves and bigotry, I don't care whose fault it is, I am coming after you, Cullen."

Cullen tried to remain calm, but his own hostility was starting rise. As a Templar, he did not take kindly to threats made in the Circle he guarded. "Champion, I understand you're angry, but..."

"No, you don't understand. A bigoted, racist, prejudiced zealot like you is incapable of understanding." Hawke spoke hatefully. "But if you know what's good for you, you will understand me right now. I don't care about you, or your damned Order and its dictums, I only care about my sister. And if anything ever happens to her, I am coming for you."

"I do not take kindly to threats, Champion." Cullen said defiantly. "And I do not answer to you."

"If anything happens to Bethany, you will answer to me." Hawke promised. "And if you think I am incapable of keeping my promise, just ask the Arishok."

Cullen watched as the Champion made his way out of the Gallows, and made no attempt to escort or follow him. In a mood like this, he knew Hawke was liable to attack him, and the Order didn't need an enemy like the Champion right now. It had been years since he had seen a look as deathly fearsome as that. Not since Aedan Cousland cut down every abomination, demon and bloodmage in the Circle Tower back in Ferelden during the Blight. If Hawke was capable of matching the Hero of Ferelden's ferocity, then the Templars may have a worse enemy than the Knight-Commander realizes.

~XoXoXo~

Varric took a quick swig from his mug, trying not to show any emotion. Every time he thought about that story, it always tugged his heartstrings. It made him wish he had a better relationship with his older brother. Everyone else on the other, was showing emotions from that telling.

"Chief, are you crying?" Krem asked.

"No, I am not." The Iron Bull denied, even as he was wiping the tear from his only eye. "Something just got in my good eyes is all."

"Yeah, you say that every time you're about to cry, Chief." Krem chuckled.

"I didn't realize the Champion's family had been through so much." Josephine sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes with her handkerchief. "I don't think I could stand to see my little sister imprisoned."

Cassandra seemed especially stunned. "I...during my entire investigation into the Champion, I never once considered to take into account everything his family had been through, everything he had suffered."

"Nor I." Leliana said sorrowfully. "When I went to Kirkwall on Justinia's orders, all I did was go there to see if mages were rebelling. We didn't take the time to figure out what the true root of the problem was, we just wanted it gone, and didn't care about those we were supposed to protect. Hawke had every right to be angry with the Chantry."

"I had a younger sister once." Blackwall spoke out. "She...died of a fever when we were still young. I never got a chance to fight for her, but that was all the Champion wanted to do for his. What could be better reason than that?"

"It's amazing what some siblings would do for one another." Rajmael said, recalling his own relationship with his adopted brother. Even today, he still wished it had ended happily.

"Such as conspiring with an abomination to smuggle a mage out of the Circle?" Vivienne said haughtily. "The situation in Kirkwall's Circle was a travesty, and the Templars made a gross abuse against their charges, but doing such a thing could have all but broken the Champion. Even the nobles or Orlais need special permission when having a family member leave the Circle because of their rank."

"Madame Vivienne, do shut up, please." Cullen said scornfully.

That heated remark from Cullen caught everyone's attention. Normally, the Commander was so calm and pragmatic, not one for sudden outbursts of emotion or anger, as far as they knew.

"You were not there in Kirkwall. I don't blame anyone who wanted to keep their loved ones safe from a madwoman like Meredith." Cullen finished lividly.

"So willing to defend the man who all but threatened to kill you, Commander? I'm impressed." Dorian said honestly.

"I have three siblings. I would have done anything to protect them from harm." Cullen informed morosely. "But I went and broke up Hawke's family, and didn't think twice about it. If I were Hawke, I would have hated my guts to.

"It's funny, really." Cassandra spoke out. "I had the same relationship with my older brother, Antony. He was the one who always took care of me, tried to make sure I was happy. I didn't think he and Hawke would have so much in common."

"Most people think that Hawke was all about slaying monsters and bad guys, or rescuing damsels in distress while making off with chests full of gold. But what most people don't know is, at the heart of it all, Hawke was just a family man." Varric said truthfully. "Everything he did, no matter what, it was for the chance of making their lives better. And that's the truth. Fame, fortune, glory, all that was meaningless to him. All that mattered to Hawke was looing after those he loved, and just doing the right thing. And, come one, let's be honest, how many heroes out there are like that? But enough of that. Let's move on before I start crying."

~Merrill~

The wayward Dalish elf sat by herself in Hawke's huge mansion, reading a book in his study. Hawke's faithful mabari war hound, Hafter, sniffed her hand and eagerly rolled on his back, begging for attention. Merrill laughed and rubbed the big dog's belly just the way he liked.

It was considered a huge scandal when it was discovered that Garret Hawke, scion and heir of the Amell Family, had brought an elf to live with him. Not as his servant, as they might expect, but as his lover. Not only was she an elf, but a Dalish elf to boot. It caused such a scandal that even after they had been together for three years, people were still talking about it like it happened yesterday.

Some of them still gave her those mean looks, like she didn't belong there, belong with Hawke, and at times she felt that might be true. After all, she still couldn't find her way around the city, barely understood city life, and was more out of place amongst the city elves than a human would be. Not to mention the fact that not even her own clan wanted to keep her. But whenever she began to feel such things, Hawke's smile and reassuring voice always lifted her spirits.

Earlier Merrill had gotten done with watering the plants around the mansion; the place seemed so dreary when Hawke wasn't around, she thought it would make the place seem livelier. In fact, everyone in the whole city seemed to be rather upset and sad, maybe she and some of the Alienage elves could plant some flowers around the city to help liven up everyone's spirits. But then, where would they find enough seeds? And most of the city was rock and stone, how could the plants grow any roots? Maybe planting flowers all over the city wasn't such a good idea after all.

Lately, Merrill had become more worried about Hawke. So worried in fact, that she could barely keep her mind focused on studying the eluvian. He seemed so distracted, and he'd even began acting more and more withdrawn. Avoiding her, not letting her know what he had been up to, he didn't even seem to want to talk to her. He seemed especially secretive about the mail. Normally, he didn't care if she or Isabela looked through his unopened mail, but lately he seemed very keen on keeping her away from it. He even instructed Bodahn to make sure she didn't look at any of his letters.

Merrill tried to tell herself that Hawke was acting this way because of all the stress he was feeling right now, and it is rather rude to go through someone else's letters, despite what Varric and Isabela might say. Ever since he had been made Champion, everyone wanted something from him. All Hawke wanted was to be left alone so that he could enjoy the life he made for himself, but he couldn't help but try to make things better for everyone. That's what Merrill loved about Garret the most: his undying selflessness. Hawke would throw himself at whatever problem, no matter how dangerous or controversial, if only to make another person's life better in this harsh city.

In fact, that was how she fell in love with him. Growing up, she had never even seen humans and had no idea what they were like, except for the stories the older members of the clan told that portrayed them as boogeymen and monsters. But when she first met Hawke at Sundermount, her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of him because he was so handsome and had such a warm smile on his face. When their task was done, Merrill though that, at best, Hawke would just drop her off in the city and forget her, or, at worst, turn her over to the Templars. She was a bloodmage after all, and even her own clan didn't want her any more. But Hawke didn't forget or discard her. Instead, he visited her in the Alienage, spoke to her, tried to help her adjust to living in the city away from her clan. He never judged her, and in trying to become her friend, Merrill fell hopelessly in love with Hawke.

She didn't care about the breakings of taboo or the racial and religious differences between them. Hawke was different from all the humans her clanmates spoke of. He was kind, honorable and noble, and believed in equality for all people, regardless of their race and religion. She loved him for all that, not the race he happened to be. And that first night that shared together, when she awkwardly admitted her feelings to him, was the happiest night of her life. She could have died happily right then, but living with him was an even greater joy.

And having Isabela as a best friend really helped, too. She was able to show her all the fun, naughty things she never would have learned in her clan, and Hawke enjoyed her lessons just as much.

Merrill just wished there was something she could do to help ease the burden Hawke felt by being Champion of Kirkwall. After everything he had done and been through, he deserved to have some peace of his own. Sadly, Merrill didn't know how to help without making an awkward mess of it that Varric would use in his stories.

Merrill stood up from her book and started pacing around the study, nervously biting on her fingernails. She did have one idea; a gift that she had been waiting for a special occasion. Isabela helped her pick it out, but she still couldn't help but be nervous. Would Hawke like it, or would it be too inappropriate? Humans were so hard to get gifts for, especially when the gift was meant to show how someone feels for them. Merrill learned that from when Aveline tried courting Donnic.

Merrill was so lost in nervous thought, that she didn't notice the object of her thoughts walking up behind her. Merrill could never get tired of that warm feeling she felt when Hawke's strong arms wrapped around her. Like a shield and a blanket rolled into one that made her feel safe, and warm, and nothing could hurt her. A shield-blanket, did anyone actually make those? Seems like something the dwarves might make.

"Aneth'ara, vhenan." Hawke whispered into Merrill's ear. He knew she loved it when he whispered affection into her ear in her exotic language. He always found elven to be a romantic language, and Merrill was a good teacher.

"Atish'all, ma vhenan." Merrill greeted, her ears blushing. Even after all these years, the very sound of his voice still excited her.

"Merrill, there's something very important I've been meaning to bring to your attention lately." Hawke said rather seriously. "It will probably be best to discuss it in our room."

Hawke took Merrill by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Why was he suddenly so serious? What could this be about, Merrill wondered. Mythal'enaste, could it be that he was going to break up with her?! Varric and Isabela once told her that when men wanted to leave a woman, it almost always started with them having an "important talk". Sweet Sylaise, Merrill didn't think she could handle such a thing. She had already been discarded by her clan and Keeper Marethari, she didn't want to lose the only man she has ever loved.

Fear and dread gripped Merrill's hear. Facing an ogre right now would be more appealing. When they entered the room, Merrill noticed Oriana carrying what appeared to be luggage bags into the room. At the moment, Merrill felt her heart shrivel and die inside her. She frantically turned to Hawke with pained tears running from her eyes.

"Hawke, please, I'm so sorry for always being an embarrassment and making a fool of myself." Merrill wept hysterically. "I know that having me around must be a terrible chore, and I say the most nonsensical things, but I promise I can do better. Please, don't leave me."

Merrill clutched to Hawke's chest and cried bitterly, but Hawke was stunned with confusion, and feeling slightly like a jerk for making Merrill cry.

"Merrill, please, don't cry. What are you saying?" Hawke asked earnestly.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" Merrill sniffed sadly.

Hawke sighed, and tried very hard not to laugh at the irony of the situation. "Merrill, you couldn't be more wrong right now. I'm not breaking up with you, nor would I ever be insane enough to ever willingly make such a decision. Quite the opposite, in fact." Hawke wiped the tears from Merrill's green eyes. He held her close and tried to comfort her into calming down. "Merrill, you and I have been together now for seven years, and today marks the seventh anniversary of when I first met you at Sundermount. I wanted to celebrate by giving you a gift."

"You...sniff...you remembered the date when we first met?" Merrill sniffled.

"Well, meeting Flemeth for a second time, and the love of my life both in one day is hardly a day I could forget." Hawke chuckled. "I wanted to get you the perfect present, so I kept it a secret."

"Is that why you haven't been talking to me lately?" Merrill asked hopefully.

"Yes, and I am sorry." Hawke spoke sincerely. "I wanted to be a surprise, but I didn't know I was worrying you. I hope this present makes up for it."

Hawke opened the boxes Oriana had brought in and laid their contents out on the bed. Merrill's breath was stolen away at the sight of a set of a beautifully crafted, white, elven-styled armor. In all her years with the clan, she had never seen such something so fine. Detailed designs of halla and birds were etched into the inlays of the chest and on the shoulders. Merrill traced her fingers along the armor's breast and sleeves and realized that it wasn't merely styled to look elven, it truly was of elven make. The breastplate and pauldrons were made of pure sylvanwood, and the sleeves and pants, which looked like ringmail, was carefully woven dragon leather. It was sturdy as steel but light as cotton, and as beautiful as a piece of art. Only Dalish craftsmen had the knowledge and careful skill to make armor of this quality.

Merrill's eyes marveled at the gift the way other people would marvel gold. "You...you got this for me?"

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Merrill cried happily. "Hawke, this quality, this design! How did you manage to find it?"

"I didn't find it, I commissioned it." Hawke answered with a smile. "I requested it from the Dalish craftsmen from the clans who have settled in Ostagar, back in Ferelden. I've been sending them letters on how I wanted it to be done."

"So that's why you didn't want me to look at your letters." Merrill realized.

"I didn't want you to spoil the surprise." Hawke smiled. "How could you think I was breaking up with you?"

Merill blushed with embarrassment, feeling like a total idiot. How could she think Hawke would ever break up with her? "Well...I told I say the most nonsensical things."

Hawk couldn't help but laugh at how cute Merrill looked with her pointy ears drooping, her cheeks blushing and giving that puppy-look with those beautiful eyes of hers. "Sweet Maker, you're adorable, Merrill. But please, just promise me one thing."

"What?" Merrill asked earnestly.

"Promise me you'll never change." Hawke begged.

Merrill's blush disappeared and a beaming smile spread across her face. She hugged herself close to Hawke, wrapping her arms around his neck, and brought his face close to hers. "I promise, ma vhenan."

Merrill brought Hawke into a deep kiss. Not wanting to interrupt them, Oriana quickly left the room. As much as Merrill wanted to try on her new set of armor, she was more interested in getting naked right now. She felt a little terrible about not getting Hawke a gift. She would have to talk to Isabela later about helping her make it up to him.

~XoXoXo~

"Is this whole story going to be about the Champion's tawdry personal life?" Vivienna asked distastefully.

"Oh, I certainly hope so." Dorian spoke. "Hearing the in depth personal details of lives of powerful people is one of my favorite pastimes."

"There were many people in Kirkwall's upper crust, even amongst the Templars and Chantry members, who thought that Hawke's relationship with a lustful Rivaini pirate and a heathen Dalish elf was disgraceful, that he was shaming the Amell family name." Cullen recalled. "Personally, I think they were all just jealous that the Champion never even looked their way."

"Love is a precious gift, no matter your race or religion. If more people realized this and placed less importance on such trivialities, I think the world would be better for it." Said Leliana. Perhaps, as Divine, she could make the world see this.

"I think Merrill is adorable. Like an affectionate puppy or kitten." Josephine said adoringly.

"Hm. It seems Dalish elves romancing human champions is more common place than anyone realizes." Blackwall observed.

The similarities between their romance and Hawke's and Merrill's had not gone unnoticed by Cassandra and Rajmael, who were currently holding hands. The instant she heard Blackwall's observation, however, Cassandra started blushing and immedietly withdrew her hand from Rajmael's.

"Man! The Champion sounds like he's got some serious game." Iron Bull laughed.

"That's an understatement, Tiny." Varric chuckled. "Hawke's had more than every pastry shop in the Orlesian Empire."

"But there were always those two who mattered the most to him. The two who knew him the most, understood him the best." Cole spoke. "Two loves for one heart, he knew how lucky he truly was, and treasured them."

"Exactly, Kid." Varric confirmed. "If there's was ever a sign that a higher power existed, that was it. Maker knows, no man in all of history has had Hawke's luck when it comes to their love life."

"And? Is there more or are you just going to leave us in suspense?" Rajmael asked.

"Building up suspense is the best way to tell a story, Inquisitor. And, trust me, that was just the first." Varric promised.

~Isabela~

The Rivaini raider was sitting by herself in the favorite spot for Lowtown's local scum, reprobates, and degenerates to gather: the Hanged Man. It had been several years since she had last been in Kirkwall's most renowned dive, not since before she betrayed the one man in this whole damned world who gave a damn about her, Garret Hawke.

Isabela slammed her shot glass back to the bar and ordered another drink, the whole bottle this time. She needed as much alcohol as she could get to make her able to handle even thinking about him right now.

She could barely stand to look herself in the mirror anymore. All she could see now was the backstabbing, lying bitch that she was. No different than her own hag of a mother. Even though Hawke owed her absolutely nothing, he allowed her to take the Tome of Koslun to get Castillon off her back, even though he could have used it to settle the issue with the Qunari. Then she abandoned him. Took off with the damned book with nothing but a pitiful note written with excuses.

Isabela stole a horse and took off for the nearest port city to jump ship and put as much distance between her and those Qunari as possible. By the time she was halfway to Ostwick, she looked back and saw the fire and smoke that was engulfing Kirkwall. Then that damned horrible feeling of guilt, the one thing she was always so good at ignoring, smacked her in the face. She brought that on Kirkwall, and now Hawke was trying to clean up the mess she made. After everything Hawke did for her, after everything she shared with him, Isabella had to go back.

By the time she arrived, the Qunari had destroyed half the city and the Arishok had killed the Viscount, but she got there, tome in hand, and gave them all the reason they needed to leave. Of course, it was never that easy. The Arishok took the damned book, but he wanted to take Isabela too, to make her pay for taking the book in the first place. Isabela thought for sure that would be the end of her, but even after everything she let happen, Hawke stood between her and that massive oxman. She could never forget those words Hawke when he defied the Arishok. "No. You can't have her. She's mine." Just remembering him say that still made her heart flutter.

Hawke dueled the Arishok for her, even after what she did, what she allowed to happen. Hawke became the Champion of Kirkwall, and she...she was still just a lying, thieving pirate slut. After that, she just started wandering around, trying to find something else in her life that would make her feel good about herself, besides a ship or Hawke, but with no success. Even now, she couldn't bring herself to go and see Hawke, even though she missed him so much. He was better off without someone like her giving him a bad name. Hawke still had Merrill, and the two of them were perfect for each other, he'd be just fine. But if that was true, why did she still feel like complete shit? She needed another bottle of whiskey.

"Mind if I buy you a drink, pretty lady?" Asked a very familiar strong yet soft voice.

Hawke sat himself on the stool right next to her with that welcoming smile of his. He was wearing common clothes so as to not attract too much attention to himself. Isabela tried to ignore the fact that he had grown his beard out and tingly it made her feel.

"I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own drinks, Hawke." Isabela dismissed rudely. "Don't you have a city that needs you to watch over it?" Isabela got up and walked away, hoping Hawke would leave her alone. She still couldn't bring herself to face him.

Hawke walked after her; he was going to let Isabela walk away again. "Isabela, please. You've been avoiding me for three years now, and I've had to rely on Varric's informants to tell me if you're alright. Don't just walk out on me again."

Isabela stopped in her tracks. Hawke didn't deserve to be treated like this, but she felt she did, and he needed to realize that. "Why, Hawke? You'd be better off without me."

Hawke gently brought Isabela to face him, his eyes still soft and caring. "You know that's not true, Isabela. If hadn't come back when you did, I wouldn't have been able to save Kirkwall."

"Bullshit." Isabela denied. "You never needed me for that. You, and the one-woman heavy infantry that is Aveline, could have slaughtered all those Qunari without me. You never would have had to if I never even showed up to this city in the first place. All I've done is bring you trouble."

Hawke wasn't buying what Isabela was selling. "Don't try to serve me this kind of crap, Isabela. I know you too well. You're too strong and self-confident to ever think that about yourself."

Isabela steeled herself and looked at Hawke bitterly. "The fact is this: you're a bloody hero, a Champion. Me? I'm just a lying, thieving, pirate slut. Don't you think your life would be better off without me to mess it up?"

Hawke gently took Isabela's hands in to hers. She had almost forgotten how strong and skilled those hands of his were. He refused to give up on her.

"You came back to help me, even though you had the relic and could have kept running. I forgave you a long time ago." Hawke spoke with such strength and warmth in his voice. "No matter what you may think of yourself, I still care about you, Merrill still cares about you. And even though she'd never admit it, I know even Aveline cares. You're one of the strongest, most confident women I have ever met, and having you around is worth some trouble. And as for being a pirate slut, well, it's a part of your charm, and I miss having you around."

Isabela could scarecely believe her own damned ears. She never thought she'd meet a man who could so willingly accept all her faults, or have such a profound effect on her. Now she felt like a total idiot. All these years she'd spent feeling sorry for herself, and he was still wanted her in his life. There wasn't a woman alive who could possibly refuse him.

The pirate queen hugged Hawke close to her, and allowed herself to enjoy the warmth and strength of his body. Oh, how she had missed being in his arms. "Why are you so good to me, Hawke?"

Hawke held her even closer and whispered in her ear. "Because your my girl."

"Hmm. I do like the sound of that." Isabela gave him that foxy wink of hers. "Well, let's order some drinks. I think a small celebration is order for my coming back to Kirkwall."

A sly grin spread across Hawke's face as another idea came to mind. "Actually, why don't we head back to the manor? Merrill has been dying to see you again, and I think you'd love to see how much she has missed you."

Isabela took the hint and her eyes flashed with desire, licking her lips like a starved convict. "Ooh, how I have missed being in Kirkwall."

~XoXoXo~

"Am I the only one who finds it unfair the Hawke is juggling a relationship between two different women?" Cassandra asked disapprovingly.

"Oh, I agree, it's totally unfair." Iron Bull answered, surprising everyone. "He could at least leave some ladies for the rest of us!"

"And that Captain Isabela seemed like a grand ol' time. Woof." Sera commented.

"Come now, dear Cassandra, surely it's not such a surprise." Vivienne assured. "There are many within the courts of every kingdom who have a paramour, some have more than one, men and women. For a man of the Champion's rank to have more than one woman is certainly nothing scandalous."

"Being the Champion certainly gives one...privileges that most people can never even imagine." said Blackwall. Being a former Champion of the Grand Melee, he knew that from personal experience.

"I've met ambassadors and dignitaries from Rivain, and I must say they are certainly...open-minded and liberal when it comes to certain aspects of life that most of us would find scandalous or unheard of." Josephine informed. "I don't think Captain Isabela's relationship with the Champion could be considered inappropriate by her culture's standing."

"You all consider that inappropriate?" Leliana almost laughed. "During my time as a bard, I witnessed so many acts of depravity and excess that to even mention the names of those involved would be ashamed for the rest of their lives. Trust me, Hawke's relationships are nothing so indecent, as far as I am concerned."

"Hawke had enough room in his heart for all the women in his life. His mother, his sister, and definitely Rivaini and Daisy." Varric clarified. "I mean, I won't lie, always was a sucker for a pretty face. That's how that whole fiasco with Tallis started. But he loved Daisy and Rivaini differently, and at the same time, equally. He was lucky to have found two women who could share that kind of affection for him as well as each other. That alone made him the luckiest son of a bitch in Thedas, never mind finding lost treasure in the Deep Roads, defeating the Arishok, and being crowned Champion." Varric couldn't keep himself from laughing. "Let me tell you, I could have made a fortune selling books about Hawke's more illicit exploits if he and Aveline both didn't threaten to burn my chest hair off. So, while I would love to thrill you all with more of Hawke's scandalous personal life, let's move on..."

~Aveline~

The Guard-Captain stood before the tall mirror and looked at herself with a slight twinge of discomfort. She wasn't used to seeing herself this way, even though some would think she'd be used to it by now. Not being an officer or a soldier, but becoming a wife. It wasn't something she'd thought she'd be twice in a single life time. After Wesley's death during the Blight, Aveline's heart was crushed, and she wasn't alone. Many families lost so many loved ones during that horrible time. When she killed Wesley to save him from the Taint, she thought she would never deserve to be happy again.

But, as the old saying goes, life moves on, and Aveline eventually found herself ready to move on. Her heart had time to heal and soon found that yearning desire for love once again, and she found that in Donnic. He wasn't the best looking man in the Guard, but there was always something about him that made her want to be close to him. Maybe it was how dedicated he was to being a guardsman, or maybe it was simply how he would sometimes look at her when he thought she wasn't looking and made her heart race.

As much as her heart desired the love another, she just didn't know how to be anything other than a guard and had no idea how to get Donnic to notice her. Maker knows she made a complete ass of herself trying. What was she thinking with that copper release of marigolds? Thankfully, she had Hawke to smooth the process and save her from making an ass out of herself, and missing what turned out to be a beautiful thing. If Hawke hadn't done her that favor, and spoken up, she might still be single with nothing to look forward to in the morning. And now, here she was, a second wedding to the man she loved. She must have truly been blessed to have someone to love her after so much tragedy.

It felt strange, being out of her armor and in a wedding dress once again. She had a hard time finding the right one. Isabela kept insisting on a lacey see-through gown that showed off far too much skin and cleavage than was necessary. Turned out it wasn't a dress at all, just something Isabela picked up at the Blooming Rose. The whore. Thankfully, Aveline was able to get in touch with Lady Elegant who helped her find a beautiful gown that was modest yet it showed off her feminine side beautifully. Sandal even put one of his signature enchantments on the dress that gave it a glittering appearance.

There was a knock on her dressing room door.

"Come in." Aveline invited.

Hawke walked into the room wearing a handsome piece of Fereldan styled finery. There was a look of happy pride in his smile and eyes when he saw Aveline in her dress.

"Everything is ready. They're just waiting on the bride. You ready, Aveline." Hawke asked smiling.

"Truth be told, I don't think I've been more nervous." Aveline admitted bashfully.

"There's nothing to be nervous about." Hawke assured in that confident way of his. "It's just a lifetime of happiness waiting for you out there, and a gathering of all your closest friends and associates here to celebrate your big day."

"You always did know what to say to boost my confidence, Garret." Aveline chuckled. She hardly ever used Hawke's first name, but that was how much she meant it. "Well, how do I look?"

"If I said anything other than lovely, would you pummel me?" Hawke asked sarcastically.

"The chances are good."

"Well, then in that case, you look lovely." Hawke offered his arm to her eagerly. "Well, let's go. Your future is waiting for you."

Aveline took Hawke's arm and donned her bride's veil, then the two of them made their way out. Aveline's father, Benoit du Lac, died many years ago and never got the chance to give her away at her first wedding. When they were escaping the Blight, the Hawke family practically took Aveline in and became a family to her, so it was only natural for Aveline to ask Hawke to give her away to her new husband. How many women would kill to have Hawke around their arms right now, Aveline wondered.

Everyone in the Chantry rose to their feet at the sound of that pipe organ announcing the bride's arrival, and marveled at the sight of the Guard-Captain and the Champion walked down the aisle. All their friends had come to join Aveline on her wedding day, even Bethany had been given special dispensation to attend. Merrill, Bethany and Isabela were acting as the bridesmaids, each of them holding a matching bouquet. Isabela's dress was still showing off so much cleavage that it should have been illegal, but that's best Aveline could hope for. Merrill and Bethany were weeping tears of happiness for Aveline.

Varric and Anders both raised a glass to the bride as she walked by them. Aveline was surprised at how well the dwarven rogue and rebellious Apostate cleaned up, but even they knew that this was occasion worth dressing up for. Also shocking was the sight of Fenris actually smiling for once, instead of having that brooding scowl on her face. Even he could be happy for someone once in a while. Sebastian stood over by the podium not far from Grand Cleric Elthina, who was officiating the ceremony.

Hawke let go of Aveline, and as she walked up those steps, her heart nearly stopped inside her chest at the sight of Donnic waiting for her. She felt tears of joy welling up in her eyes. She never thought she would feel this way again. To be loved and find something, someone, who could make her life feel whole again, make her feel like her life had meaning. The future was still uncertain, but this would be her future. Not just as Guard-Captain, but as a wife, and with someone to love and cherish, till death do they part.

In her heart, Aveline knew that this happy day of hers would not have been possible if it weren't for Hawke. She would always be grateful to be his friend.

~XoXoXo~

Cassandra, Josephine, Leliana and even Krem all sighed dreamily when Varric finished his little memory of Aveline.

"That was such a lovely story." Josephine sighed.

"Even in such uncertain times, people deserve to be happy." Leliana commented.

"Maker's breath, I owe Rivaini fifty silvers now. There's actually a man in Thedas who's not intimidated by Aveline, but is actually turned on by her." Cole mimicked Varric's voice and memory almost perfectly. "I'm sure glad Aveline never found out about that bet."

"Kid, I will pay you your hat's weight in gold if you promise to never let Aveline hear you say that." Varric practically begged.

"Yeah, that was sweet and all, but what about the good parts?" Iron Bull asked bored. "I mean, you've got to have details on the fun bits. You know, like the bachelor or bachelorette party?"

"Yeah! You got to know the Guard-Captain's last naughty night out, right?" Sera asked eagerly.

"As a matter of fact I do." Varric answered. "Despite Aveline's objections, Isabela did indeed drag her to a bachelorette party, along with Merrill, Lady Elegant, and Anders even managed to sneak Bethany there. Sadly, I won't mention the dark details here. Such things are best unsaid in the presence of the future Divine."

"From what I heard of this Captain Isabela, perhaps that is for the best." Cassandra agreed.

"Oh, come on! You can't just say that then not tell us!' Iron Bull insisted.

"In case you've all forgotten, I did use to be a Bard." Leliana reminded. "I've heard and seen many great acts of debauchery and excess that members of the Orlesian court think they've kept well hidden."

"Indeed." Vivienne spoke. "I doubt anything could possibly top what actually goes on at the Count de Bouchere's Wintersend parties when they close the doors. There are brothels more conservative than those people."

"Well, if we can dispense with the gossip and distractions, maybe you'd all like for me to continue?" Varric inquired.

"Yes, please continue." Rajmael urged. "What did the rest of Hawke's companions think of him?"

~Anders~

The former Fereldan Grey Warden and lifelong Apostate held his torch firmly in hand while he navigated his way through the maze of Kirkwall's sewer system. These labyrinthine tunnels and sewer ways were damned near impossible to figure out, but they have saved the lives of many mages, and with any luck, they would again tonight. Earlier this month, a young woman, Sonya, came to him in his clinic all but begging him to help smuggle her sister, Kara, out of the Gallows, for fear of her being made Tranquil. Despite the risks, there was no better reason to help a fellow mage if only to help keep a family together. Anders just wished that doing the right things wasn't so hard, that the world didn't condemn people for an accident of birth.

Perhaps he should have brought Hawke with him? No. Hawke had enough to deal with as it is. The last thing he needed right now was being caught by the Templars. Hawke was probably the only friend the mages of Kirkwall had left, and Anders didn't want them to lose that.

In the past few years since Hawke was crowned Champion, Knight-Commander Meredith showed her true colors and what a tyrannical despot she truly was. She all but took over the entire city, and with the Divine's authority no less, and wasted no time in treating the mages like condemned criminals and the city like a police state. Guard-Captain Aveline, being the authority-loving guard dog that she was, did barely anything to stand up to Meredith's oppression, and while Orsino did try to speak out against her, but the instant Grand Cleric Elthina showed up like a grandmother scolding misbehaving children, Orsino lost his spine. The Grand Cleric was the worst of them. That pious old biddy did nothing except pray in her fancy Chantry up in Hightown and urged the mages to just accept what Meredith was doing to them, as if her crimes meant nothing. All she did was scold the Templars like they were nothing more than local bullies, not vicious fanatics who were squeezing the life out of mages who never harmed anyone. But of course, whenever the mages did act out, or resort to extreme methods, Meredith had all the excuses she needed as well as Elthina's support. Neither of them cared to realize that the more the Templars abused the mages, the more desperate their acts became. But neither the Grand Cleric nor the Knight-Commander cared, Meredith saw all mages as a threat and Elthina only cared about what the dictums of the Chantry, not the lives that were being ruined around.

Anders paused for a moment and remembered back to his time in Amaranthine, when he was a Warden under Warden-Commander Aedan Cousland. The Hero of Ferelden didn't put up with any of the Chantry's bull. And if the Chantry wouldn't move out of his way, he'd move them. Anders remembered when Knight-Captain Rylock, the Templar-Captain who always managed to drag him back to the Circle, tried to apprehend him, even after he'd join the Grey Wardens under the authority of King Alistair, by using his phylactery as bait. She even had the gall to say that the Chantry's authority superseded the crown's on this matter right in front of the Warden-Commander, and it was the last mistake Rylock ever made.

Aedan didn't merely kill them, he mauled them to death, and strangled Rylock until she died with his bare hands, but he let one of the Templars live. He gave the survivor the severed heads and hands to take back to the Templars as a warning that he would not suffer any threats against anyone under his command and protection. Furthermore, Aedan wanted it to be known that he recognized no other authority than the king of Ferelden's. Anders wondered what Aedan would think of the state Kirkwall was in right now. Knowing Aedan, he would have waged a one-man war with the Templars and stuck their heads on pikes to remind everyone the price they must pay for trespassing against another person's freewill. Anders couldn't take his mind off those words Aedan once said to him back in Amaranthine about how a cause is truly won. That a cause is not won by singing it to death, or getting on your knees and calling to some absent god for help, but by killing a lot of people. And the only question worth asking before and after it is done is "can I stomach all the blood?" Lately, Anders had been contemplating those words more and more, and began to think that this was probably the only way to make the world open its eyes.

Ander pushed the thought and memories aside. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Kara and Sonya were depending on him. He had meet Sonya at the rendezvous point so that they could get her sister. With luck, they would both be free after tonight.

Anders hid in the shadows and waited for the signal from Sonya that she was there. Two torches lit in the darkness, burning with blue flame from those weeds he gave her, it was the signal. Anders emerged from the shadows and tried to adjust his eyes to the burning light in the darkness. When he emerged from the darkness, he was horrified to see Sonya wasn't there, but instead there was a group of Templars waiting for him.

"You see, brothers. Get any mage under the brand, and they'll tell you the truth." The leader of them, a Knight-Lieutenant laughed. "Without that filthy magic of theirs to give them any backbone, their as spineless as a boned fish."

"Once we burned the brand on that scheming bitch's forehead, she told us all about this little spot of yours, Maleficar." Another one of them bragged proudly. "Imagine our surprise when she told us that there was a damned apostate running a clinic in the under city like the Chantry's laws meant nothing. I was certainly surprised."

Deep breaths of rage billowed from Anders' nostrils, and he could feel Justice stirring in the back of his mind. "Where is Sonya? What did you do with her!?"

"I'm afraid the woman has already paid for her crime against the Maker." The Knight-Lieutenant pointed his torch to the ground and revealed Sonya's lifeless body. She had been run through the chest by a Templar's blessed sword.

"Looks like you'll be facing justice in the Gallows by yourself, Maleficar." One of the Templars spat.

"Justice?! You murder a woman for trying to help her sister, force an innocent mage to become Tranquil, and call that JUSTICE!?" Anders felt like a storm was raging inside him, and the Spirit he merged with began to stir violently. "I will show you what JUSTICE looks like!"

The Spirit of Justice awoke in furious anger, ready to smite all these Templars for the sins they committed. He would burn them all, render them into nothing but smoldering piles of ash! They would know what true Justice is.

Something was wrong. The spirit-merged Apostate couldn't move, it was like his whole body was paralyzed. He looked down and realized too late that this trap was more well thought out than he realized. He had stepped into a barrier, drawn by runes that the Templars set up to negate his magic. It was no use, he was trapped. Anders tried to struggle against the runes' magic. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't let it end like this.

The Knight-Lieutenant laughed mockingly at Anders and walked up to paralyzed mage like he was nothing. "Did you really think we'd come unprepared, Maleficar? But don't worry, you'll soon see that treacherous Kara in the Gallows. And be made Tranquil alongside her."

"He is not going anywhere, and neither are any of you." Declared a strong, familiar voice in the darkness.

The Templar who bragged about branding Kara screamed in agony as a long, black blade erupted from his chest. He looked at the blade sticking out of him like a tree branch, his own blood coating it. His screams intensified horrifically when the blade cut downward and spit him open from his chest to his crotch, spilling all his guts and innards all over the filth of the sewer floor.

All the Templars drew their weapons, their courage suddenly faltering, and Anders' spirit lifted, at the sight of the Champion of Kirkwall standing over the eviscerated corpse of his slain victim, the Celebrant dripping with his blood. Anders watched with triumph while Hawke attacked their enemies. The Champion moved with such speed and power and cut the Templars down like a bolt of lightning cutting through darkness. Blood sprayed through the air, their screams cutting through the darkness. By the time their torches hit the ground, every Templar in this cesspit was dead, except for one. The Knight-Lieutenant who killed Sonya was trying to crawl away in the filth of the sewer floor, hacking up blood from the sucking chest wound Hawke inflicted on him.

Hawke calmly walked over to the wounded Templar to finish the job. Anders couldn't help but enjoy the sight of Templar squirming in the filth and shit on the sewer floor. It was exactly where murderers and bigots like them belonged. Hawke kicked the Knight-Lieutenant on to his back and raised the Celebrant over his head.

The Knight-Lieutenant groaned in agony and vainly struggled to get Hawke's mailed boot of his chest wound, but it was for naught. He spat blood on his killer's chestplate, and spouted the same rhetoric all Templars like to say.

"A curse on you, Champion! Interfering with the Templars' divine duty is a sin against the Maker!" The dying Templar railed. "He will damn you for slaying my holy brothers and siding with this vile creature!"

Hawke scoffed at the Templars dying words. "Funny. You say that, yet I'm the Champion of Kirkwall, and you're just a nameless Templar who died in a pile of shit. Looks like the Maker favors me more than you." The Champion brought his sword down and cleaved the Templar's head in two, silencing his rhetoric forever.

Hawke went over to his paralyzed friend and scraped away the runes that were holding him. Anders took a moment to catch his breath and take in what just happened. As much as he was thankful for Hawke rescuing him, he couldn't help but feel it was a hollow victory. Sonya was dead and Kara had been made Tranquil.

"Hawke, how did you know where to find me?" Anders asked, still recovering from his outburst.

"I received a message from one of Bethany's friends who brings supplies to the Gallows." Hawke answered. "She told me that she overheard the Templars bragging about how they forced Kara to go through the Rite of Tranquility, and how her sister was planning to smuggle her out with the help of an apostate. I knew that could only have been you. And when I got to your clinic, one of your patients told me which tunnel you took, so I tracked."

Anders went over to Sonya's body and respectively closed her eyes. He couldn't leave her like this, left to rot and be gnawed on by rats in a dark sewer, she deserved better. "Sonya didn't deserve this Hawke. She was a good woman, trying to rescue her sister from a fate she didn't deserve, and they murdered her for it. Shoved a sword through her and called it justice."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here in time, Anders." Hawke said with genuine regret. He would have been devastated if something happened to his sister.

"What do you have to be sorry for? It's them who should be sorry!" Anders shouted, echoing through the sewers. "And you know what the funny thing is? These bastards will all end up getting a grand funeral and ceremony with the Grand Cleric honoring their service and sacrifice, but none of them will give two shits that these Templars murdered Sonya for trying to save her sister. None of those holier-than-thou peons will even know her name."

"We know her name, and I think that would honor her more than the empty, practiced words that the Chantry servants repeat every day." Hawke said consolingly. "I'll make sure she gets the burial she deserves."

"What's the point of this, Hawke?" Anders asked despondently. "This place was the last route I had to smuggle mages out. Thanks to Meredith, the Mage Underground is all but destroyed in Kirkwall. At this rate, the mages in this city will no longer have any future as anything other than prisoners or slaves."

Hawke looked at his friend sternly, he was never one to ever back out of anything. "If we quit now, Anders, Sonya's life will have been for nothing. The only way people like Meredith can truly get away with their crimes is if people like us choose to quit because our path gets harder."

A faint but genuine smile crept across Anders' face. "You're right. We have to keep fighting or nothing will ever change. Some day, we'll live in a world where your sister won't have to live like a prisoner. Thank you for, Hawke. You're the best, and probably only friend I have now."

~XoXoXo~

"Sweet Andraste." Leliana said full of shock. "I...I had no idea things were so brutal in Kirkwall."

"That poor girl. All she wanted to do was help her sister." Josephine said with pity. "I would have done anything for my sister, if only to save her from such cruelty. No one deserves that."

"The events at Kirkwall were deplorable, I agree, but none of that excuses what the apostate Anders did in destroying the Chantry." Vivienne said with disdain, like she scolding a child for their naïvte. "If anything, all he did was prove everyone's fears about mages to be true with his actions."

"It's easy for us to judge in hindsight, but you, Lady Vivienne, have no business to talk about what happened in Kirkwall." Cullen spoke out sternly, reminding the Imperial Enchanter of her own misgivings. "You weren't there and didn't see the crimes that were committed there, but I did." A look of guilt glazed over Cullen's face. "I knew that some, many, of my fellow Templars were treating the mages with such cruelty, and even abusing the citizens we were supposed to be protecting. Whenever I questioned Meredith about these methods, she would remind me of what happened to me in Ferelden, and assured me that what we were doing was for the good of the city. And like an idiot, I believed her."

"Curly and I saw the crazy shit that went down in Kirkwall, and just how off her rocker Meredith truly was." Varric added. "Anders had been kicked to the curb so many times, I guess he decided he finally had enough."

"Treat someone like an animal long enough, then that's exactly how they'll behave." Blackwall commented.

"First the Qunari Invasion, then the city is locked down by its own Templars. Makes me wonder if the city is cursed with some horrible bad luck or something." Dorian remarked.

"Kinda sounds like what we do to the mages back in Seheron, except the whole 'rebelling against the system' thing." Iron Bull added. "We'd just kill them all and be done with it."

"He was another mage that held a spirit. Like Rhys' mother, or Evangeline after her." Cole reminisced. "But theirs was a Spirit of Faith, warm, gentle, always seeking the best in people. But his was different, a Spirit of Justice turned to Vengeance. Harsh, vicious, angry, seeking to punish any and all who committed wrongs." Cole's face became sorrowful and full of regret beneath his hat. "I am sorry for the pain your friend must have felt."

"We...heard about how harsh the Templars' treatment was, but the more we looked into it, the more evidence we found of magical abuses. It seemed justified. How could we have been so blind?" Cassandra asked aghast.

"And it was because of that neglect that Anders finally went off his rocker and started the whole Mage-Templar War." Varric emphasized. "Maybe if someone had taken the time to notice, he never would have done what he did. But that's neither here or there. What's important, is that's how Hawke won Anders' friendship, even though in the end he threw it away. But enough of that. This part of he story is about all Hawke's companions"

~Fenris~

Fenris sat alone in his decrepit manor in Hightown, a glass of aged whiskey clenched in his fist. He shot the glass down his throat and growled it's taste from his mouth. It was finally over. After nearly a decade of living on the run like a wild animal, it was over. Danarius was dead, Hadriana was dead, both of them killed by his own hands, and he was finally free. But why did this freedom feel make him so angry? Why did it taste so bitter? Instead of feeling joy, all he felt was anger, angrier than he had ever been. Why?!

Fenris heard the front door of the manor open, and judging from the sound of the footsteps, it was Hawke. The man who helped him every step of the way during his stay Kirkwall, who helped him track down Hadriana and kill Danarius, and all he could feel for him right now is angry.

"Festus beimo canavarum." Fenris swore under his breath at the sight of Hawke.

"If your intention is to insult or demean me, Fenris, you might have better luck talking in a language I can understand." Hawke rebutted.

"It mean 'you will be the death of me'." Fenris said angrily. "Six years ago, I stayed in Kirkwall, in part, because I owed you, but also because I thought you could help me. And you did. Hadriana is dead, Danarius is dead. I am finally free!"

"Is this some Tevinter was of giving thanks? Getting pissed at the man who's been putting up with you and helping you for all these years?" Hawke asked satirically.

"None of it feels like it should!" Fenris shouted furiously. "This freedom tastes like ashes!"

Hawke glared at Fenris with equal anger in his eyes. He was done putting up with the elf's temper. "Fenris, for once, do me a favor; sit down and shut up. Just shut the fuck up!"

Fenris glared back at Hawke, but nonetheless did as he was told. Hawke grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table and chugged back several gulps of it.

"I want you to think back to all the times where I have helped you, and I want you to tell me if you think there's this reoccurring theme with you." Hawke told Fenris, wiping the whiskey off his lips. "Remember the first time we met? I know I do."

Fenris remembered that day just as well. He had used the dwarf, Anso, as a middleman to acquire someone with enough skill to help him kill the Tevinter slavers who were hounding him. Hawke thought he was helping Anso smuggle some lyrium, and he wasn't very happy about being deceived into facing another man's problems. Regardless, Hawke still decided to aid Fenris in his quest to kill his former master, despite Danarius being a powerful Magister. Hawke decided not to involve Aveline, because by Kirkwall law, she would have been obligated to alert envoys from the Imperium that a Magister's slave was hiding in the city. So he decided to bring Varric and his sister Bethany to help him.

However when they arrived there, they were greeted by a manor full of demons. Fenris had gotten used to fighting such creatures when he was a slave, but was surprised not only at how well Hawke fought against them, but how easily he dispatched them. Apparently, Anso had chosen well. When the demons were all slain, Fenris was disappointed to discover his former master was not there. Disappointed, but not surprised. Danarius had always been a coward. Fenris couldn't forget what happened after that...

"The first words out of your mouth was how terrible your life had been because magic. That it had 'hunted you at every turn' and 'been a plague on your life that had been burned in to your soul'." Hawke recounted with a hint of disdain in his voice. "Then you turned around and insulted my sister, as if I wasn't standing there! You called Bethany a viper, that she would turn on me when I least expected, like you knew her better than I did!"

Fenris scowled at the memory. It was true, and it was unfair of him. Bethany was a gentle girl, and she didn't deserve his ire. Looking back, it made him feel like a total bastard.

"Instead of thanking Bethany for volunteering to help keep your sorry ass out of slavery, you insulted her right in front of me!" Hawke shouted angrily. "My first instinct was to plaster your face into the pavement, but Bethany urged me not to, and that's just one more thing you can thank her for!"

"That...was a long time ago. I had been evading mages my whole life, I never thought there would be one who would actually help me." Fenris admitted dourly.

"Oh? Is that your excuse? Merrill and Anders have been trying to help you for years, just like I have. Yet every turn, every opportunity, and without real provocation, you have demeaned and insulted them, even after they would have laid down their lives to aid you." Hawke's voice became harsher, like he wanted to cut Fenris down with his words.

"Someone in your group has to remain practical. You allow your sympathies and ill-advised relationships with them to endanger others around you." Fenris hissed. "Anders is an Abomination, just him walking around poses a threat. And Merrill is a bloodmage; she's already listened to the words of a demon, all it takes is for her to heed its words and she can destroy half the city! These are facts that you seem content to ignore!"

"Oh, it's facts you want to talk about?" Hawke scoffed like it was bad joke. "Well, here's a couple of facts that you seem content to ignore. Anders is down in Darktown EVERY DAY providing healing and hope to the unfortunate people who dwell there. Merrill is risking her life, and sacrificed any chance of being with her clan in the hopes of reviving even a single piece of elven history. Not other people's lives, hers. Those two have devoted themselves to something they believe, that they think is greater than themselves. Now tell me: what have you accomplished in the past six years as a free man that compares to them? Besides squatting in a stolen mansion, getting drunk and bitching about how terrible and unfair your life has been?"

Fenris' scowl could shatter a mirror, and the anger he felt inside began burning hotter than before. "You think I want to live this way? I know nothing else! A slave isn't taught how to make a life for themselves!"

"And once again, you're making excuses for yourself." The Champion countered. "Tell me, what was that excuse you gave me when you crushed Hadriana's heart inside her chest after you gave her your word that you wouldn't kill her?"

Fenris' temper and lyrium tattoos flared like wild fire at the very mention of that wretched woman's name. "Don't even try to use that bitch against me! In case you've forgotten, she sent the slavers after me, tried to kill me! And even before I escaped, Hadriana made my life more of a living hell than it already was! You saw what she did to the slaves she kept, how she sacrificed their lives in a blood ritual to increase her power. You cannot stand there and tell me she didn't deserve to die!"

"You had every right to hate that woman, I would have wanted to kill her, too." Hawke admitted honestly. "But you gave your word to spare her if she told you about your sister, and then you killed her. Like your word meant nothing. Is that what your word means? Is that how little your honor means to you?"

"What was I supposed to do? Forgive her!?" Fenris demanded rhetorically.

"Honor. Your. Word." Hawke answered lividly. "My father taught me that when a man makes a promise or gives his word, even to an enemy, he must keep it, because that is what better men do. And a man who cannot keep his word, is capable of even worse things. If your hatred, your anger, means more to you than your own honor, then you are no better than Hadriana."

"Don't you dare! I am nothing like them!" Fenris snarled. "You have no idea what they put me through. You don't know what it's like to be a slave!"

"No, I don't, but do you think I don't know loss? You think I don't know what it means to suffer?!" Hawke shouted back. "Let me tell you what I've been through: I had to watch my father, the best of men and an apostate whither away until he died. I watch my king get slaughtered by the darksapwn and the Blight destroy my country. I was helpless to save my brother from being crushed to death by an ogre, and watched as the Templars stole my sister from me. I had to witness my mother being turned into an undead abomination by a bloodmage! So don't think that I don't know what suffering is! But you wanna know something? I've never let what I have suffered define my life, or dictate my decisions when it comes to right or wrong, or what honor truly is. Can you say the same?"

Fenris tried to find an answer. "I've..."

"You've let what they what Hadriana and Danarius did to you define every aspect of your life." Hawke pointed out. "When you killed Danarius, it felt good, didn't it?"

"It was justice!" Fenris answered lividly.

Hawke wasn't finished yet. "But that that feeling didn't last long did it? Right after killing him, you felt even angrier, didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"You want to know why!?"

"YES!" Fenris shouted, echoing throughout the manor.

"Because you killed the only thing that gave your life meaning." Hawke finally answered. "You allowed your hatred for Danarius to dictate every thing you've ever felt, everything you've done, until it ruled you. And now that he's dead, you're realizing how empty your life truly is. That is why your angry, that's why your freedom tastes so bitter."

Fenris was shocked into silence. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. Without someone to hate, what did he have?

"You were always free, Fenris. You just never allowed yourself to realize it." Haw continued. "You let your hate for Danarius rule, and you let your hate for magic define you and how you treat others, and that is a life without honor. Remember what your sister said to you?"

"I remember that she sold me out to the man who ruined my life, all for magic!" Fenris recalled bitterly. "That she told me I destroyed my own identity for these damned marks and her freedom, which turned out to be for nothing!"

"And there you go again, blaming magic, letting your anger dictate what you believe." Hawke chided. "You of all people should understand that not all of us get a chance in what happens to us in life, and sometimes life gives us no choices. Varania said she looked at you and saw that you got the better end of life, and you know what's funny? She was right." Hawke's admission surprised Fenris a little. "You have skills and abilities that almost every elf in the Alienage would kill to have. How many slaves from Tevinter can say they successfully escaped the Imperium? And what have you done with these opportunities? Not a damned thing, except squat in a stolen mansion, get drunk, and complain about how unfair life has been to you when you're not helping me with whatever disaster is plaguing this city."

Fenris was still unable to speak. This sudden realization of truth had smacked the anger right out of him.

"You've got no more excuses, nothing left to hold you back. You don't wear the chains anymore, so drop the pitiful slave act." Hawke scolded. "Now you've got two choices Fenris: you can either get back up and do something meaningful with your life, something that might even bring you joy. Or, you can sit here, get drunk, feel sorry for yourself, and waste your life. You're the one who says that slaves don't get to choose. Well, you're not a slave, so choose."

Hawke placed the bottle of whiskey right in front of Fenris, then turned around to let him make his choice. "By the way, if I ever hear you insult Merrill again, I am going to put your head through a wall."

Fenris was left alone in his stolen manor once again, and for the first time he could recall, he was left utterly stunned. He felt like a fool, and it took someone else to make him realize what was wrong with his life when he couldn't figure it out for himself. All these years he had been away from Tevinter, wasted because he was too busy being angry. Six years that he could have used to make his life better, as Hawke did for himself. And Hawke was right. What he was feeling, all the anger and bitterness, he did it to himself.

Fenris grabbed the bottle of whiskey in his hand and stared it. He made his choice, and threw the damned thing against the wall. There were no more excuses.

~XoXoXo~

Everyone gathered around Varric and listening to his story was obviously stunned by his description about what transpired between Hawke and Fenris. Almost all of them only knew of the Champion through his reputation, which, thanks to Varric himself, had a great many embellishments. Most of them did not realize that there was a stern side to Hawke.

"Man. Just listening to that makes me feel like crap, and I didn't do anything!" Iron Bull stated, actually impressed.

"From all those tales I've heard about the Champion of Kirkwall, I thought he was all sunshine and roses." Doran admitted. "Good to know that this doglord got some bite to him."

"But it's so odd. Weren't Fenris and Hawke friends?" Josephine asked.

"Ehh. That's a loose term concerning those two." Varric admitted. "Fenris respected Hawke, like any sane person would, but that doesn't always make you friends."

"The Champion's reaction was perfectly justifiable." Vivienne surprisingly agreed. "That elf should have been happy with what he had."

Sera snorted in disgust at Vivienne. "Right. Being chased around like a dog by snotty nobs after being kicked around a buncha times. Yeah, I'm sure he had a lot to be happy about."

"I don't think any elf in Kirkwall had a reason to be happy." Cullen admitted regretfully. "Serial killers preying on their children, slavers stealing them from their homes, and always being treated like dirt. But as far as Meredith was concerned, if it had nothing to do with caging mages, they didn't matter. Just one more failure on our part. No wonder half of them joined up with the Qunari."

"Still, was Hawke's reaction not excessive?" Leliana asked.

"Trust me, if you had spent six years of listening to Broody's anger issues and complaining, you wouldn't think so." Varric explained. "Some people need a heavy hand to make them realize their own shortcomings, and Fenris had been stuck in the same rut for years, not realizing what he had. Not to mention, I'm sure Hawke finally got tired of him always talking smack about mages, including Blondie, Daisy and Sunshine. There were times I actually thought Hawke was actually going to follow through with his threat and plaster Fenris' face into the pavement."

"I'm actually surprised the Champion had that much restraint." Blackwall admitted. "You don't talk about a man's family, or his woman, poorly within earshot of him and not get a violent reaction. Serrah Hawke must have the patience of a saint."

"You could say that. And speaking of saints, the last of Hawke's merry band of freaks was someone who did his damndest to act like one..."

~Sebastian~

Sebastian knelt before the image of Andraste in the Kirkwall Chantry, praying for an inspiration of guidance. He had just gotten done with another lecture from Grand Cleric Elthina. He just didn't know what to do. It's was as if for the past six years he had been standing at a crossroad and had no idea which path to take. He had hoped prayer would help him find the answer.

"The Grand Cleric seemed livid. Is something wrong, Sebastian?" A familiar voice asked.

Sebastian prayed for a sign from the Maker, but instead he got Hawke. Maybe this was the sign he was waiting for, but it was difficult to discern the Maker's will.

Hawke walked through the cathedral door to the Kirkwall Chantry. After so many years of coming here, not for prayer, but because of whatever trouble was stirring behind it's blessed doors, and because of all the chaos going on in this city, Hawke no longer felt the same sensation of awe and reverence. Instead, all he felt was weary of hearing the same confessions spoke with half-truths, the same empty songs and prayers repeated a thousand times until its true meaning was lost. But most of all, he was tired of the same indifference to everything that the Chantry had. He had learned all too well in his time in Kirkwall that the Chantry was either the staging ground for ignorant bigotry, or meaningless indolence. But Hawke wasn't here for the Chantry, he was here for someone who resided within the Chantry.

Hawke was here to check on Sebastian, the wayward prince of Starkhaven. With the hostilities growing between the mages and Templars, Kirkwall was going to need an outside ally to help turn back the chaos if it was going to survive. Starkhaven was the breadbasket of the Free Marches, and one of its wealthiest city-states. If Sebastian could retake his rightful place as it Prince, Kirkwall would have an ally against the lunacy growing within it.

Hawke walked up to the altar of Andraste, and did find Sebastian there, but he was having an in depth debate with the Grand Cleric.

"I'm giving it all up. I made a vow to the Chantry, and it was wrong for me to turn my back on it." Sebastian said almost pleadingly.

"Sebastian, listen to yourself." Elthina chided irritably. "You're being as impulsive now as the day you left us. Do you truly think the Maker wants another rashly spoken promise that you'll abandon when the next passion or rash thought takes you?"

"I will not abandon the Chantry when these mages defy Andraste's holy laws." Sebastian defended. "I cannot turn my back on such a threat."

"First you throw away your vows to avenge your family, now you wish to resume them because the mages are speaking out." Elthina said sternly. "This is your life, Child. Do not spend being blown about like a leaf on the wind when every strong opinion arises." The Grand Cleric noticed Hawke's approach and exasperatly gave up on the conversation. "But now here's Hawke. Come to goad you into more heroics, no doubt."

The Grand Cleric turned and walked away, with the obvious look of annoyance in her stride.

While Hawke didn't much care for her tone, he was more concerned about what he heard from Sebastian. "Please, tell me I didn't just hear what I know I just did."

"I know you're disappointed, Hawke, but my mind is made up." Sebastian said honestly. "How long has she been urging me to resume my vows, and now that I wish to, she won't take me back."

"To say that I am disappointed, Sebastian, would be a monumental understatement." Hawke's tone conveyed his chagrin. "After everything we've done, you would turn your back on Starkhaven? On everything your family gave their lives for?"

"Starkhaven can wait. The city will hardly benefit from this chaos if the mage insurrection here in Kirkwall isn't put down." Sebastian argued. "Fist we must bring the mages to heel, then I can return to Starkhaven with a clear conscience."

"So you're saying that my sister's imprisonment means more to you than your own people?" Hawke's asked, his ire provoked. "You think it's more important that mages be made to suffer than to look after the wellbeing of your own city, the people who are waiting for a leader?"

"That's not what I mean Hawke." Sebastian insisted. "The Chantry's laws are the most paramount in this world. If they are defied or broken, then the rest of this world's laws are meaningless. I can best serve Starkhaven by first serving the Chantry."

"That's a load of bull, Sebastian!" Hawke's voice resonated through the Chantry, upsetting some of its patron, but none would dare tell the Champion to hush.

Sebastian was taken aback by Hawke's tone. His face became serious, not taking too kindly to Hawke's attitude within the Chantry. "That Chantry clearly states..."

"Oh, the fucking Chantry." Hawke groaned. "Do you know what I hate the most about the Chantry, Sebastian? I hate how it tries to force itself into every aspect of people's lives. Like there's no other way to think, no other way to feel than what they tell you. As a Fereldan, I despise that sort of agenda, and after six years of living here, I am more than sick of it."

"That is your right, Hawke, though I believe in my heart that you're wrong." Sebastian replied calmly, but obviously angry. "The Chantry was founded to interpret the Maker's will, to fulfill Andraste's dream of a better world. To do that, I must be able to devout myself to the Chantry above all else."

"Do you think the world will change just because you shut yourself in a Chantry?" Hawke questioned. "Do you honestly think the people of Starkhaven will thank you for ignoring them for six years for the sake of the Chantry? They need their prince, not prayers."

"Before the title of Prince fell to me, I was a brother of the faith, Hawke." Sebastian argued. "What kind of a prince would I be if I cannot even fulfill my duty to the Maker?"

"Being a prince isn't just something that falls to you by accident of birth, or because the next man in line died, it's a responsibility. One that you have been ignoring for too long." Hawke argued back. "What do you think would matter to the Maker more? That you stayed in a Chantry and prayed for something to happen, or that you helped your people through a time of crisis after your family was slaughtered? Andraste didn't beat back Tevinter by singing the Imperium to death, she did it by picking up a sword and doing something about it."

"At the behest of the Maker, that is what set her on that path. Not vengeance or gain, but because the voice of the Maker urged her to take a stand for righteousness." Sebastian countered earnestly. "I cannot bring myself to turn my back on my oath against the Maker, unless I know it is truly for the right reason."

Hawke sighed in defeat. There was no reasoning with Sebastian, he was too reliant on the Chantry to tell him what was right and wrong, like too many in this damned city. "If that's what you want to do, fine. But you're making a big mistake. The rest of us, who live in the real world, follow action, not prayers. And on the day when you meet the Maker, what do you think will please Him more? That you stayed in a Chantry praying while Kirkwall and Starkhaven were being besieged by usurpers, or that you took up your bow and acted against them? Contemplate that while you're praying."

Hawke turned away and made his way out of the Chantry, his shoulder's feeling even heavier than when he arrived. He could feel the eyes of Sebastian and stunned onlookers watching him as he left, but he didn't care. Disrupting the false serenity of this Chantry would never bother him. As far as he was concerned, everyone in this building, especially Elthina and Sebastian needed a wake up call. Just when the people of Kirkwall needed a prince on their side, Sebastian decided that prayer and Chantry dogma was more important than their lives, or the lives of the people of Starkhaven. Kirkwall was going to have to stand on its own, and Hawke could only hope the people he had around him were enough to stop the madness that was plaguing this city.

Sebastian watched as Hawke practically stormed out of the Chantry, and everyone wisely stood out of his way. He didn't expect Hawke to understand. While he knew Hawke was a good man, he also knew that some of his actions were questionable. Covering for Anders and assisting other apostates defy the Chantry's laws was just a few of them. Hawke may have been comfortable with breaking the laws that Andraste set down, but Sebastian cannot bring himself to do that. He swore his vows to the Maker, and that must come before all else. Can any Prince of Starkhaven do any less?

~XoXoXo~

"Wow. This Sebastian Vael sounds like an utter tool." Rajmael remarked flippantly.

"Trust me, I was thinking that for the entire duration that I knew him." Varric agreed.

"This Prince didn't seem to know the first thing about duty." Blackwall said disdainfully. "An all too common ailment amongst the nobles. Instead of kneeling in a Chantry, he should have been looking after his people."

"Didn't I hear that this Sebastian Vael actually tried to annex Kirkwall?" Dorian asked.

"Tried and failed, is what I heard." Iron Bull answered. "Once the Inquisition and my boys showed up, that little prince slunked off with his tail between his legs."

"The only Starkhaven could ever take Kirkwall was to pry from the Guard-Captain's cold, dead hands." Varric stated as fact. "And trust me, Choirboy wouldn't last five seconds against a pissed off Aveline."

"I think that his devotion to the Chantry and wanting to remain true to his vows was a noble endeavor." Josephine said sympathetically.

"Romantic and inspiring, perhaps, but ultimately impractical, childish and naïve." Cullen said condemningly. "In the end, Sebastian's choice was a foolish one."

"Your being rather harsh, aren't you?" Vivienne asked. "I would think that a Templar of a people would understand the desire for someone, especially a prince, to remain devout to their vows to the Chantry."

"As a matter of fact, I did think that, at the time." Cullen informed dismally. "I thought that my vows to the Maker were absolute, that they made everything I did, every choice I made, right. Instead, all I did was carry out the will of a madwoman who perversed the Order's duty and turned us into tyrants."

"At this point, I must agree." Said Cassandra, surprising some of them. "While faith is something we should all strive to honor and live out, it is meaningless unless we put our faith into the best of action."

"For many years, I thought the same thing." Leliana spoke. "That simply by being a part of the Chantry and serving its will, I was doing the Maker's will. But for too long, the Chantry encouraged so much negativity. Indolence over action. Bigotry instead of acceptance. We must lead by example. Encourage the best in people, let them discover the Maker themselves, instead of having the arrogance to believe that we hold all the answers."

Varric tilted his mug back and realized it was now empty. Seeing as he hadn't even started, he'd better make sure he and his audience stayed fresh in order to handle the upcoming story. "Well, everyone, if you've got to use the facilities or refill your drinks, now's the time. We're about to start the real story."

~XoXoXo~

Taking Varric's advice, everyone went and freshened themselves up and brought more drinks up from the kitchen. When everyone was ready, they gathered around Varric, all filled with eager anticipation. To hear a story he never told anyone, this would be something they would all remember.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen. Allow to me to make the setting." Varric started, getting into his true storyteller mode. "A political delegation. An assassination attempt. A group of extremists, and a cautionary lesson about how our actions can bite us in the ass, even when we do them for the best or most just of reasons. The tension in Kirkwall was so intense that you could have hanged yourself with it, all thanks to the issues going on between the mages and Templars. Everyone knew things were coming to a head. Then someone else came along and stirred some up some trouble of their own, and was ready to burn the city the ground."

~Author's Note~

Alright, I'm back at it! I have gotten a few PMs from readers asking me to get back in the game, but the truth is I never left. I took a brief break to decide how I am going to continue this story, and now I am back to writing it. I hope you enjoy this newest arc I'm writing.

I've decided to write another original story arc to my story in place of the Descent DLC. Sorry in advance if some of you are disappointed with that. Personally, I found the Descent to be way too boring and tedious a thing. It became more of a chore than anything else. It didn't have enough storyline, character interactions, or even the answers I was hoping for. If anything, I was left with more frustrating questions and half-assed theories. So, I'm doing this instead.

When I post my next chapter, which should, hopefully, be in a couple of weeks, I will also be releasing extended versions of my previous chapters. Think of it as adding all the cut content and deleted scenes from a movie. After a few weeks of reflection, I realized there was more I could have added, and there was some content and didn't add intentionally, because I thought if I wrote too much, reading would become more of a chore than a pleasure. But after my last chapter, I feel that isn't an issue. So that's something else to look forward to.

I hope you all continue to read, review and enjoy.

Sincerely,

Powerslammer.