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.

48. The Path of Memory: Part II

~The Path of Memory: Part II

The bright flash had finally dissipated and, some of the companions had hoped that this horrible trip down memory lane had ended, but at this point they all knew better than to kid themselves.

"Oh, someone please tell me this magical shit is over with and we can finally go back home and get smashed!" complained Iron Bull, still rubbing his eye.

"Please!" Sera began, looking nauseous. "Don't let that bright light show happen again!"

"Where are we know?" Cassandra asked with great concern. "Is this another one of Aedan's memories, or are we back in the library?"

"I don't thinks so, my sweet Nevarran princess." Answered Zevran. "I can still tell we're somewhere in Fereldan, and a rather rustic part of from the looks of it."

"That's not very specific, Zevran. All of Ferelden is rather rustic." Vivienne added while she placed her handkerchief back over her nose.

They all looked around their surroundings, and yes, it truly did look like a Fereldan settlement. It was a was a humble village. Quite a few houses were built close to the most important buildings in town: the Chantry and the local tavern. The weather was actually rather fair. But as they all looked further they saw many farmsteads and fields of crops and grazing cattle, all going up along the Imperial Highway.

"Ah, rural Fereldan." Vivviene said with veiled disdain. "How...quaint. I do hope the mud in these blasted memories doesn't stay with us should we find our way back."

"Pardon me, but haven't we been here before?" Dorian asked.

"Yes." Ranier answered. "We're somewhere on one of the farmstead on the outskirts of Highever." The knight pointed over yonder and could all see the mighty Cousland Castle as it overlooked the port town of Highever Village.

"Hey! Look over there!" called out Varric.

They all looked towards where the beardless dwarf was pointing and they all felt a mix of relief and bewilderment; it was Garret Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. Not adorned in the fineries as befits a scion of the Amell family, nor in his signature black armor. No, he dressed as a humble farmer, but still sporting his signature beard. Sitting in front of modest household with a look of bliss painted on his face.

"Hawke!" Varric cried out, jumping and waving to his friend. "We're over here!"

"That's not your friend, Varric." Cassandra told him, gently taking hold of his forearm. "This is probably one of his memories, just like the Hero's"

"You can't know that for sure!" Varric argued, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "He could be trapped here too!"

And before anyone could try to convince the storyteller otherwise he began running towards his friend and they all followed.

"Hey, Garret!" Varric called out as he rushed out, reaching towards one of his closest friends. "Man, I'm glad your safe. You won't believe what..." Varric extended his hand to the Champion, but his hand passed through him like passing through smoke.

"I'm sorry, Varric." Dorian said with a look concern. "But I'm afraid we're all still stuck in your wayward friend's memories. And from the looks of things we will now be experiencing those of our favorite champion."

"Shit!" Varric cursed angrily and sadly. The poor deshyr seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I had a feeling it wasn't really him, but...but I just...If anything happens I don't..."

"We understand, Varric." Cassandra said consoling, understanding how he felt. She put both hands on his shoulders to calm and comfort him. "We'll find him. We'll find them all, I promise."

"Thanks, Seeker." Varric sighed, regaining his composure. "I guess you guys will get to see the Hawke like I do now."

"He's happy!" Cole chirped aloud and everyone turned their attention to the former spirit. "He is so happy and so proud. He didn't think he could be so blessed."

"Yes, I'm sure the life of a...farmer in this wet and muddied country must be so...enriching." Vivviene commented as if sounding she wanted to puke.

"Hey, come here!" Hawke yelled out pointing the Iron Lady's direction.

"Uh-oh!" Zevran half giggled. "Now you're gonna get it."

"Preposterous!" The enchanter called. "This just a memory! This not the real..."

"Garret! Come on!" Hawke called once more, in a very excited tone, motioning someone towards him. And then they all saw whom he was calling to. A robust looking boy, no older than five years old with a head of thick black hair was running towards him. This truly caught them all of guard, they were looking at Hawke all right, just a different one.

"Holy shit!" Varric exclaimed in realization. "That's Malcolm Hawke, Garret's father!"

"Wow!" Sera piped. "Could've fooled me! The look so alike, it's scary, innit?"

They all watched as the boy ran up to his father, and Malcolm caught his son in his arms and raised him up in the air, both of them smiling and laughing.

"Is Mother alright?" The future Champion asked.

"Oh, Garret, she's better than alright. She's couldn't be better!" Malcolm answered as if he was on top of the world. "Come on, it's time to meet your new brother...and sister!"

Garret looked up at his father in confusion. "But I thought I was only having one sibling."

"Well, it seems like the Maker decided to give you both." Malcolm have chuckled as he led his son back into the house. "Come. Your mother wants you to meet Carver and Bethany.

As father and son went to go a greet their new family members, the world around them shifted and faded, giving way to a new memory to witness.

~XoXoXo~

They were now witnessing an older Garret and a much older Malcolm together behind their house. Malcolm was holding a greatsword in his hands while Garret was holding a longsword in his. Not far from the two of them was a young boy whacking away at practice dummies with a wooden sword, and on the porch of the house was a beautiful woman, with fine long brown hair, braiding the hair of an adorable little girl, giggling as her mother's hands made knots of her long mane.

Garret at this point couldn't have been more than fourteen, yet he was tall and quite muscular for a lad his age. Growing up a farmer and receiving training from not just his father, but the local Templars and traveling Chasind had done wonders for his body. Even as young as he was, he was exceptionally handsome.

Carver and Bethany were both seven. Carver looked like a younger and lesser version of his brother and had a very surly look to his face. While Bethany was cute as a button, with fair cheekbones and fine raven hair.

Malcolm was certainly older, his beard was longer and hair had started to grey but still appeared fit and firm as an oak tree. The woman whom everyone could assume was Leandra Amell, had long, beautiful brown hair tied into ponytail. Her long face and pale green eyes still held the beauty of her youth, unmarred by age and motherhood.

"Aw, that's just sweet." Zevran said. "The Champion learned to eviscerate his fellow man from his papa. That's good quality family time."

"Well it's certainly more quality time than my father gave me!" Dorian half joked.

"Hot damn!" Varric exclaimed. "I had always heard Leandra was a fine catch, but seeing her now! I'll bet half the young lords of the Free Marches and their younger brothers killed themselves when she got married!"

"Yes! And to an infamous apostate and mercenary, no less!" Dorian agreed, extremely amused. "It's both a great scandal and a fairy tale!"

"Quiet, you two!" Cassandra scorned. "Pay attention." And everyone went back to watching the Hawke's martial training.

"Now listen very carefully, Garret, because I'm going to tell you a the secret to victory in combat." Malcolm instructed while his son continued his forms. "The secret to victory, is to never restrict yourself to a single discipline, but be open to all possibilities. Focus not on defeating your opponent, but achieving your goal."

"I don't understand, Father." Hawke said, trying to grasp his father's wisdom.

Malcolm smiled at his son, looking to impart on his eldest what he had learned through many near-death experiences. "Any brute and killer can simply hack and slash at his opponent to take their life, but success hardly ever comes from a mere display of force. Victory is found through understanding your opponent, his fighting style, his equipment, the kind of person he is. When you learn to understand who and what your opponent is, you will find the way to achieve your goal. Only through understanding do we achieve peace."

"How can I learn to understand my opponent if he seeks to harm me, Father?" Hawke questioned.

Malcolm stretched out his arms and gestured his son to look at everything around them. "Learn to observe the world around you, down to the smallest detail. Master the power of observation, a power most people ignore or underestimate. Never limit what you learn, whether it's from other humans, or mages, or even elves and dwarves. Because when we learn to understand everything around us, victory in combat is easy."

The young Carver grew impatient with the lack of attention he was getting jealous that his older brother was receiving all their father's instruction.

"Father, Garret's been training all day! Can you start teaching me now?" Carver complained for his father's attention. "You promised you'd teach me those moves that the Champion from Starkhaven taught you."

Malcolm chuckled to himself, remembering that he did indeed promise to teach his younger son. "Alright, Carver. I'll show you those techniques now."

"Can we use real swords!?" Carver asked excitedly, his eyes wide with hope.

"When you're older, Carver. Real swords are still too heavy for you."

"Aw, Father!" Carver whined.

Malcolm turned his attention back to Garret one last time before keeping his promise to Carver. "Remember this, Garret, for this applies to more than just combat, but to all aspects of life. Master the power of observation. Observe the fact, and be open to all possibilities."

"Like a detective?" Garret wondered.

"Exactly like a detective." Malcolm smiled. "When we learn to understand the world around us do we achieve peace. And you've achieved peace, victory is easy."

As his father left to keep his promise to Carver, Garret stood there, contemplating his father's words. He didn't understand how observing everything around him was supposed help him win in a fight? Hawke didn't know, but he would make it his life's effort to learn how.

Varric and his companions watched as his best friend's childhood memories unfolded before them. How he grew up in rural Ferelden, learning everything he could from both his parents' examples. Leandra was once the crowned jewel of a prominent noble family, educated and cultured by some of the finest scholars and tutors in the South, but gave all that up to be a simple wife and mother, and never regretted it. Nevertheless, Leandra passed on everything she learned as a noble of House Amell to her children. History, arithmetic, philosophy, literature, languages, the cultures and customs of other countries. Leandra was a patient and caring woman, and took care to assist her children as they needed. Garret and Bethany were eager to learn everything they could from their mother, while Carver was more content with learning combat with their father.

~XoXoXo~

"Alright, my fearless warriors, it's time to get started on dinner." Leandra called out to her husband and sons while she held Bethany's hand.

The Hawke family all went inside their house and all the wayward visitors followed them. To their surprise the cottage was much larger than it looked outside. A very large living area with a decent sized hearth and a large cauldron to cook their meals. There was also four fairly large rooms towards the corner of each side of the house. The parents both shared a room and so did the twins, though Garret had his own room and the last room in their abode was a storage area, where Malcolm kept some his more...secretive belonging such as his weapons and armor from his time with the Crimson Oars mercenary band, and a few items of magic that he took with from the Circle of Magi.

"So, how are our boys coming along? Will you make knights of them yet?" Leandra asked as she readied dinner.

"Garret's training is coming along excellently, he'll probably be surpassing me soon when it comes to combat. Carver, despite his bravado, is still falling a little behind." Malcolm told his wife honestly. "He has great potential and he's eager to perform, but he overlooks the subtleties of the techniques and just wants to force it to work."

"Ah. So you mean to say he's a seven-year old wanting to act like a seven-year old." Leandra laughed lightly. "He's young, dear, and wants to have fun with what he's learning. Give him time, he'll master your techniques yet."

"True, but he's not catching on as easily as Garret did at Carver's age. I'll just have to give him more attention to help him catch up." Malcolm determined.

Something about what her husband said reminded Leandra of something that brought an amused smile to her face. "Speaking of attention, it would seem Garret got more than his fair share of it last night...with our neighbor's daughter, no less! What was her name? Peaches!"

Hearing his mother speak to his father about his incredible first night with a woman made Garret's blood turn to ice and he froze stiff. He was just glad his mother hadn't found out about him and Peach's sister, too.

"Oh, really?" Malcolm replied half impressed and half worried. "Well, I hope you took proper precautions, son."

"From what the gossiping hens around the village say, they have. And they also say quite a few farmers heard the two of them going on all night long." Leandra continued in a teasing tone making Garret turn as red as a cherry.

"I think the hearth needs more wood!" Garret said quickly, needing an excuse to get away from his mother and went quickly to the storage room for the wood axe.

"Well, lets hope he doesn't make us grandparents too soon." Malcolm continued as his son scurried away.

"And now there's Bethany." Said Leandra in a very worried tone.

"What about her? Is something wrong?" Malcolm asked noticing his wife's concerned look.

Leandra exhaled slowly to tell her husband the upsetting news. "There was an incident earlier this morning when you and boys where out helping Old Barlin with his roof. Bethany was out playing with the chickens, trying to make them follow her. She... she made a ball of bright blue light in her hands and practically hypnotized them. She showed it to me like she had learned a new a trick and I her told her stop immediately and not to do it anywhere were anyone can see her."

Malcolm sighed morosely as his wife relayed the news to him. It their worse fear realized but they couldn't have been to surprised. "So...she has inherited the magic in our blood."

"What are going to do, Malcolm?" Leandra asked, gravely worried. "Do we tell the Chantry or do we..."

"No, Leandra." Malcolm responded gently, but sternly. "We always knew that this would be a possibility and I promised myself when each of them were born I would never let the Chantry hold them and chain them like they did to me. I will never let this family be torn apart."

Leandra nodded slowly. Malcolm never talked about his past, and she never pressed the issue knowing what a sensitive subject it was. The only thing her love ever said was that the Chantry claimed him when he was young and only gained his freedom through much bloodshed and strife. She always knew that he was mercenary and would often feign being a member of Kirkwall's Circle, that's how they met, but the man she had loved so much didn't need to give him his past so long as they could have a future.

"Then what will we do? She needs to be able to hide her magic."

"No. She needs to learn how to control her gift." Malcolm said correctively. "She can't learn to hide it; there is no hiding it. I will teach how to hone and wield her abilities with discipline and humility, so she uses only when it's absolutely necessary."

That didn't put down Leandra's fear entirely. "But what about demons!? What if they seek her out and she doesn't have the strength to..."

"Trust me, love." Malcolm said as her embraced his consolingly. "I've been an apostate most of my life and I haven't fallen to any demon or blood magic, despite all of Val Royeaux's propaganda. I will teach to never fall victim, either."

"I hope so but if..."

"Mother, the stew's boiling over!" Garret called, just returning with firewood.

Immediately Leandra turned her attention back to her family's supper and it helped put the fact that Bethany is a mage our of her mind, which Malcolm was grateful for.

"Son, go get your brother and sister for dinner." Malcolm chuckled as his wife frantically tried to stop stew from overcooking.

"Yes, Father." Garret complied to his father with slight grin face, but his smile died quickly as he turned his back on his parents, both of them ignorant that their oldest boy heard everything they said about his sister. Dear Andraste, what was going to happen to this family now?

All the companions just stood there for a moment, letting the moment of a day in the life of the Hawke family sink in. None of them had such a loving family growing up, most of them had their childhood cut short and seeing such a warm, loving family together made some of them wish they had.

Varric was the first one to break the ice. "Well, this sure explains a lot."

"Such as what, Varric?" Cassandra asked.

"Well to start of with, the relationship between Hawke and his kid brother, Carver. Sunshine and Hawke always told me the two of them were never really close. I was never really close to my brother either, but you learn to appreciate what family you've got."

"What surprises the shit of me is the Champion's daddy." pointed out Iron Bull. "I mean how does a guy like learn both how to control magic and have what looks like a ton of martial training?"

"Well from everything I could gather Malcolm escaped the Fereldan Circle while he was still pretty young and spent most of his life in the Marches." Varric explained.

"Hmmm, I suppose what he did was understandable." Cassandra started. "No parent wants their child to be separated from them, perhaps to never be seen again."

"Really?" Dorian interrupted. "I guess I lucked out on the lottery draw with my parents."

"But, still..." The Seeker wasn't finished. "Not sending such a young child to receive proper training is dangerous and perhaps even selfish."

"I agree." Vivienne said, not surprising anyone. "Better to receive an education from experienced instructors rather than apostate that never finished his own training, than to run the risk of danger from a misused spell or running afoul of the wrong kind of spirit."

"I take exception to that." Cole replied, mildly insulted.

"Yeah?" Varric questioned challengingly. "Shows what the two of you know, doesn't it."

"And what's that's suppose to mean, darling?" Vivienne said, accepting the challenge.

"Malcolm learned everything from magic to swordsmanship by being out and about. Becoming worldly and actually experiencing what life is actually like, not being cooped up a stuffy tower filled with old tomes and hoping he gets to see a little daylight, or catching the right noble with a lot privileges and connection."

"Yes, yes." Vivienne said as if talking to an ignorant child. "And for all that...accomplishment he died in a backwatered hovel with nothing to show for his efforts."

"He died surrounded by the family he love and loved him in turn." Varric retorted angrily. "That's better than most people actually get, and a wide mile better than the Chantry would ever have allowed him. And now his son is one the greatest heroes in all of Thedas and his daughter is the First Enchanter of Kirkwall, and she's not even thirty yet. I'd say raising them was the greatest of accomplishments!"

"Here, here!" Zevran laughed. "How old were you when you were offered the position of First Enchanter."

"Don't you all think this rather pointless?" Ranier reasoned. "It doesn't matter what was right or wrong anymore, everything turned out the way it did. What matters now is finding our comrades."

~XoXoXo~

All of them agreed on the point the knight had made, and as if on cue, the memories shifted forward to another point in Hawke's life. They were all standing amongst massive ancient ruin on the outskirts of a forest, large enough to house an entire army. Many walls and spires of Tevinter origin were erected all around the landscape, with many of them now falling into great disrepair. Despite it's decay, the ancient Tevinter outpost still held strong against the wear of time, and were strong enough to stand against any foe that might seek to overtake it. A testament to the Ancient Imperium's ingenuity. Standing tall over the entire ruin was a great tower, that was now looking over the great host of the Fereldan Royal Army.

"So, this Ostagar." Ranier pointed, almost in awe. "Incredible, even in the ruined state it is now, this fortress is still standing tall and proud."

"Oh you should see Minrathous." Dorian added. "It's the oldest and most ruined city of them all, and it hasn't fallen into the sea yet."

"Yeah, that's one good thing I'll say about the Vints." Iron Bull joined. "When they build something, they build it to last."

"Especially when the were built to fight against the Chasind." Cassandra finished for them. "Why are we here?"

"Have you forgotten already, Seeker?" Varric asked. "Hawke and Carver were soldiers here. And since we all know what happened here twelve years ago nobody act surprised, okay?"

"What? Something happened here?" Asked Sera and everyone groaned in annoyance. "I'm kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood."

They were led to a makeshift circle were a loud mix of cheering, jeering and cursing was going on.

"Come on! Get 'im!" One of the soldiers called.

"Kick his arse!" Screamed another.

They all looked to the combatants in the circle, one was wearing a helmet holding a shield in his left hand and mace in the other. The other wore a plane conscripts armor and wielded a greatsword in both hands, and since he wore no helmet they all thought the knew who they were looking at. He had short black hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw but he carried himself with youthful pride and the arrogance of a child.

"That's the...Champion?" Sera asked almost skeptical. "Where's his beard?"

"He has some skill." Ranier pointed out. "But he lacks discipline and restraint, relying more on his muscles and talent rather than thinking with his head. That might get him some victories against raw recruits, but against trained and seasoned fighters, I doubt he'd last very long." Thom Ranier being a seasoned knight and experienced tourney goer, everyone agreed with his logic.

Iron Bull looked like he wanted to gag at seeing such a lousy melee. "Please tell me that twerp isn't the Champion!"

"Nope." Varric answered. "Believe me, the Hawke we're looking for actually knows how to use a sword."

"Ah, so this must be the younger brother, Carver." Vivienne huffed, still upset about being in this miserable country and looking rather nauseous from being in such close proximity to he wilds and amongst grouped up soldiers who most likely hadn't bathed in at least a month.

They watched the small contest go on for a few moments as Carver continued to batter down his less-than-skilled opponent with his sword. When the other man finally yielded everyone around either cheered or cursed as some of them passed coins around for the wagers the made. A few soldiers went over to complement Carver on his victory, while Carver himself looked rather pleased if a bit winded. All of the companions however were not all that impressed. And somehow Carver could see it.

"And what're you looking at!?" The younger Hawke asked indignantly.

"Not much." A familiar, thick, growl-like brogue answered right next behind them all, startling Varric and everyone else. None of them expected to see Aedan Cousland in one of Hawke's memories.

Carver obviously didn't think much of this blue-tattooed warrior, even though the man was clearly his physical superior and could easily break him like twig.

"And what, pray tell, do you think I did wrong?" Carver scoffed at the nobleman. "In case you didn't notice, I won!"

"Winning by luck and winning by skill are two totally different concepts. You swing your sword without any balance or finesse! If your opponent had dodged, you would have thrown off balance, leaving you wide open for a counter-attack. If you're supposed to be our country's first line of defense, then we're all screwed."

By the look on Carver's face, one would think Aedan had just insulted his mother. So walked up to the future Grey Warden with his chest puffed out like an ape, looking for a fight that wasn't going to end well for him. "You think you could do better!? Why don't come here and do your worst."

"You couldn't handle my worst." Aedan growled, and entered the fighting circle.

"Don't worry..." Carver scoffed arrogantly. "I'll try to make the fight last."

"I don't fight...I kill." Aedan pulled out his battle-axe intending to do just that when suddenly...

"Carver! That's enough!" Shouted an authoritative voice.

"And there he is ladies and gentlemen!" Varric announced with pride.

They all looked in the direction Varric was motioning at and some of them were a little surprised. A young Garret Hawke, as a soldier in the Fereldan army. The Hawke brothers shared great physical traits but looked completely different in terms of appearances and temperaments. Garret was taller and far more physically imposing. While Carver had a square jaw, his brother's was angular. And unlike his younger sibling, Garret carried himself with authority but also humility. As he walked towards the small crowd, all the other soldiers went quiet and excused themselves, not wanting to reprimanded by this Sergeant.

"Huh. So this is how the two of them met." Iron Bull observed.

"Yeah." Zevran spoke. "The both of them showing up the kid brother. That couldn't have be good for the boy's ego."

The two future legends exchanged their greetings and farewells than the two of them went in the opposite direction of each other to meet their destinies. Hawke's continued in his brother's direction, and Carver looked pissed.

"Why do you always have to do that, Garret!?" Carver berated indignantly.

"Watch your mouth, Private." Garret warned his brother sternly. "I may be your brother, but in the field I am your superior, and you will not speak to me in that tone."

"Oh, but of course." Carver said sarcastically while giving his superior a mocking salute, which Garret responded by kicking his brother's feet from underneath him, landing head and shoulders first into the mud. Carver picked himself up while still flashing him an indignant look but said nothing. For the next few moments the two brothers just glared at one another until finally the elder spoke.

"Consider yourself lucky." Hawke continued. "Anyone else and you'd be either in the stocks, or on the block."

"Yes." Carver responded while still rubbing the back of his head. "I'm so lucky to have you as my superior in ever little aspect of my life."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Garret demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sergeant." Carver continued standing at attention. "That would be breaking professional regulations"

"Go ahead." Garret dared. "Speak freely. You always do."

"Every time I try to do something for myself, you show up and show me up!" Carver exploded. Garret quirked an eyebrow but said nothing and let Carver continue. "I joined the Royal Army and so did you, not only do I end up in the same regiment as you, now you're my acting Sergeant, and I have genuflect to everything you say instead of finally becoming something for myself!"

"That's a load of crap and you know it, Carver." Hawke rebuked firmly. "I was made a Sergeant because I served in Lothering's militia for seven years. And you didn't join the army, you were conscripted, like everyone else back home."

"I was trying to stand up for myself against that painted asshole back there, and then you come along and make me look like a chump in front of everyone, and you brought up the fact that we're related!" Carver continued his angry rant.

"Because it's only way I know to make you stop making a fool of yourself." Hawke defended.

"I could've taken him!" Carver shouted angrily at his older brother.

"That's not the point, you stuck-up brat!" Now Garret was starting to get angry. "You're trying to start a fight with a Grey Warden recruit while we're getting ready to go to battle with the darkspawn, all because he told you your not as great a warrior as you think you are! And guess what? It's the truth!"

"You two!" A new and unfamiliar voice called. Both brothers turned their attention over to a tall, muscular woman with long ginger hair, wearing a Lieutenants badge and both of them stood at attention and saluted.

"I don't know what your argument is about and I don't care!" The red-haired officer reprimanded. "Report to Captain Varel at once!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" The Hawke's said unison. Both of them walked off to meet with the rest of their platoon and both said nothing.

"That is truly sad." Spoke Cassandra. "They should be working together, trying to build each other up, not fighting with one another."

"Well, they get along better the Bartrand and I did." Varric pointed.

"Why does he always have to do this?" Cole said cryptically.

"Hey, It looks like Cole's doing his mind reading thing." Iron Bull called out. "Let's listen."

Cole looked in Carver's direction and continued to speak how he was feeling. "Why does he always do this to me!? I try so hard to make something of myself and he's always there either doing it before I did or doing it better than me! Everywhere I go people always go on about how great my brother must be, and don't even get me started on how many women want him! I'm just a poor man's imitation of Garret in every aspect of my life! Even father favored him over me! It's not fair! This time things will be different! I WILL makes something of myself, today, here, in Ostagar!"

"Wow!" Zevran exclaimed, amused. "Aedan was right, that kid did get himself killed pretty quick, especially for having a chip on his shoulder that large."

"It's one thing to know how to use a sword..." Ranier started. "But knowing why to use a sword should be something all warriors should consider, first and foremost." Seeing Carver reminded Thom Ranier of himself when he was younger; skilled and strong but arrogant and conceited. Maybe if he had an older brother to knock sense into him when he was younger so many people that died because of him would still be alive.

"It's very sad, really." Commented Dorian. "He only wanted to make a name for himself, and he died so young before he could even do that."

"How do think Hawke must've felt?" Varric asked, and Cole turned his attention towards the Champion to find out.

"Why does he always act like this? He wants too much too fast and it's going to get him killed. I'm only trying to keep him out of trouble. But no matter what Carver acts like I'm some sort of obstacle for him to defeat. I promised father when he died I'd protect the family, even him. All I can do is hope that one day he understand that I'm trying to protect him."

When Cole had finished all of his comrades were silent. For all of them it was sad to see how the Champion and his brother were distant from one another and how Hawke just wanted Craver to be safe. They all stayed queit until Varric broke the ice. "I'm sorry, Hawke. I wish things had turned out better for you and your brother. Your whole family."

~XoXoXo~

The memories shifted once again and this time it was another battle, this time it was the great failure that happened at Ostagar that saw King Cailan dead and the Royal Army broken. Time to see how the Hawke's were affected by it. The memory showed the brothers Hawke locked in battle against the Darkspawn. The two of them fought vigorously, with Garret felling three for every one Carver killed.

"Where are the reinforcements!?" Carver yelled out shoving a dead darkspawn off his greatsword.

"They'll be here soon!" Hawke responded as he impaled a genlock through the head. "Just keep your sword up and your head down, when the Tower of Ishal lights, Teyrn Loghain will flank the spawn."

"Well, whoever supposed to light it better hurry up!" Carver panted. "The lines have already been broken!"

"Carver, look!" Garret pointed with his sword northwestward towards the Tower of Ishal as it was lit. Finally, Teyrn Loghain would charge in with his army and finish this battle and the could finally take a breather. A war trumpet was sounded and Garret finally began to come down. What was going on. No. NO! This couldn't be happening. The army that stood proudly under the Yellow Wyvern of Gwaren had begun to march...away from the battle! Hawke's relief quickly turned into horror and horror turned into panic.

"What's going on?" Carver asked, still not comprehending what was happening. "What's going one? Why are they leaving!?"

Before Garret could answer and a Hurlock swung it's crude and rusted longsword at Carver's head. It took all of Hawke's energy to reach his brother in time and shove him down as blocked the attack with his shield and then jam his longsword through the fell creature's throat.

Garret quickly picked up his brother and began to pull him away. The line was broken beyond redrawing and no effective leaders were around to give command. Soldiers and conscripts began fleeing by the dozens, only to be killed by charging darkspawn or stray arrows. Garret had to get Carver out of here now!

"Carver!? Carver, we have to leave now!"

"What!?" The younger brother still couldn't understand their situation.

"Teyrn Loghain has turned his back on the king and fled the field!" Garret explained while trying to pulls his brother away as everyone was fleeing past them. "We have to go now!

"No! I'm not leaving! I will stay and fight for the king!" Carver rebutted as he pulled himself from Garret.

"The King is dead!" Garret yelled while yanking Carver closer to him by the collar. This wasn't an assumption this was a fact. "The battle is lost, and I'm not letting you die here because you're too stubborn to accept that we cannot win! Now, do you want to die here!?"

The defiance in Carver's eyes quickly turned to realization. No he didn't want to die here. As Carver calmed down Garret let go of him and the Hawke's fled the lost battle. They had to move and move fast. They had to reach Lothering and get their mother and sister out of there before the darkspawn overran everything. With waves of seemingly endless Hurlocks and Genlock it seemed unlikely anybody was going to escape alive.

As the two of turned and fled, trying to avoid any darkspawn they encountered the viewers of this memory were once again stunned into silence. They had all heard about the tragedy at Ostagar, but it was different seeing it first hand.

"And everyone thinks what Aedan went through at Ostagar was traumatic." Remarked Zevran

"Holy shit!" Iron bull cursed. He had always heard about the Blight but now to actually witness it made him think of how the Qunari would handle them if they ever succeeded in conquering the south. "The fact they actually escaped something this FUBAR'ed is incredible."

"They didn't, Tiny." Varric scoffed. "Trust me."

"Shit." Sera cursed in utter horror at the darkspawn's brutality. "And this would've happened to the rest of the world if Ser Eat-Other-Peoples-Bit didn't stop it."

"The battle here was worse than we thought." Ranier said, remembering that he was stationed with the Grey Wardens at Jader. Not long after they heard of the failure at Ostagar, Teyrn Loghain blocked any reinforcements from entering Fereldan's border and blamed the Wardens for their defeat and his treachery. "And not long after abandoning his post, he began to try to steal his king's throne."

"I don't thinks it's as simple as that, Ranier." Vivienne pointed out. "The battle was lost, no matter what. Even if he did bring his forces to the field, the darkspawn would still have overwhelmed them and no one would have defended this country."

"That's an irrelevant point, Madame de Fere." Ranier responded adamantly. "He abandoned his post and his king! Even if he retreated with his army to spare them annihilation, he blamed it all on the Grey Warden, dubbing the traitors and murderers. Those were the actions of a guilty man. And because of his ignorance and carelessness tens of thousand died horrible deaths!"

"As you said before, Ranier, it doesn't matter anymore." Cassandra said sadly, not looking at the field. "It happened the way it did and right or wrong, it can't be changed." Everyone took a moment to be silent for the lives lost at Ostagar as they were moved on to the next memory.

~XoXoXo~

The memories showed that the Hawke brothers were running as fast as the could from the battlefield, not having anytime to rest, the horde was a little less than hour behind them. They reunited with their mother and sister back at Lothering, and the whole village had already gone to hell. It turned out Teyrn Loghain had already recruited their local Bann and took his whole army with them to Denerim, leaving the village unprotected and an easy target for the Blight. Garret had barely enough time to get his family from the doomed settlement in time, and it was still too late. The family looked back on the village they lived in for so long, it broke Leandra's heart the most. Her home for over twenty years, where her children were born and raised, where her husband was buried, all of it was gone.

The Hawkes were just a few hours away from Lothering when they were surrounded by more darkspawn. Bethany stopped them with fire magic while her brothers cut them all down with their swords. Tired from all the running and fighting, the displaced family took a moment to breath.

"Maker save us, we've lost it all." Leandra said as she panted, trying so hard not to cry. "Everything your father and I built together."

"I know how much Lothering meant to you, Mother." Garret said trying to comfort her while trying getting ready to move again. "But we must keep moving."

"Yes." Leandra responded, regaining her composure. "Your right."

"We should've left sooner." Bethany pointed out. "Why did we wait so long?"

The companions took a moment to get a good look at Bethany now. She had blossomed into a lovely young woman of eighteen. A slender figure and graceful frame, a heart-shaped face complimented by coal black hair and sky blue eyes. She was truly a fine catch that the young men of Lothering didn't deserve, especially since most of them didn't wish to cross her protective older brother, nor was interested in pursuing boys due to her status as an apostate.

"Why are you looking at us!?" Carver retorted angrily. "We've been running since Ostagar!"

"It doesn't matter." Garret interjected. "We need to leave and leave now."

"Please." Leandra addressed her twins. "Listen to your brother."

"Fine." Carver said as if he lost an argument. "Lead on."

"But where are supposed to go?" Bethany called. "Where are going?"

"Away from the Darkspawn!" Carver hollered, wanting to get movie quickly. "Where else!?"

"And then where?" Bethany responded. "We can't just wonder around and hope the Blight won't make it there!"

"Look, wherever we go what's important is we don't get separated." Garret said trying to calm them both, but truthfully he had no idea where to go, or was even sure if he could protect them all. His mother knew it.

"We can go to Kirkwall." There was something Leandra never thought she would say.

"Kirkwall?" Her firstborn asked, skeptically. "Are your sure that's wise." Even in rural Fereldan they were aware of the City of Chains reputation. Kirkwall was one of the three largest and wealthiest of the Marcher cities, but word held that the Templars ruled there with absolute authority. Not healthy for a family trying to shelter an apostate. Bethany knew it.

"Kirkwall is where the Templars are at their strongest!" Bethany protested.

"I know. But we still have family there...and an estate." Leandra made it sound as if it was more of a last option than an actual plan.

"If that's the case we need to get Gwaren." Garret said and began to lead his family further southward.

Not even ten minutes of trekking further did the run into another large group of Darkspawn. Fortunately, there was a pair of fellow armed refugees there to join them in the fight. One was a Templar judging by his armor and shield. The other was the redhead officer that barked at Garret and his brother before the battle at Ostagar. As the Hawkes came over, the Templar was already injured by a Hurlock's crude blade, but before the fell creature could finish him, the ginger woman tackled it to ground and proceeded to beat the freak to death with her fists. Just the sight of it made Hawke feel attracted to her.

"You! Will! Not! Have him!" The officer yelled with each punch she landed before decapitating it with her longsword. She helped the Templar to his feet. "The will not have you." She said to him, longingly.

With that the Hawke siblings helped to rebel the darkspawn. When it was over they Bethany went to help the injured knight. "Apostate! Keep your distance!" The Templar backed away as if Bethany was a leper.

"Well, this day just keeps getting better." Bethany replied while choking out a small laugh. "If its not darkspawn threatening us, its the Templars."

"Wesley..." The red haired woman said, trying to make the man see reason. "These people just helped us."

That made this Wesley calm down, but he was still committed.

"That woman is an apostate." He continued as if he was trying to convince himself. "The Order dictates..."

"The Order isn't here. I am. And I won't let you near my sister." Garret responded, placing himself in front of the Templar with his longsword drawn threateningly.

"Wesley, they saved our live." The Lieutenant implored, placing her hand on his shoulder. "The Maker will understand."

That finally made him back down and so Hawke sheathed his weapon.

"I'm Aveline Vallen." The redheaded soldier finally introduced herself. "This is my husband, Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when this is over." Oh. So she was married. a pity, Hawke thought. He won't be hitting on her anytime at all.

"My name is Garret Hawke." The future Champion introduced. "And this is my family. We've barely managed to keep ahead of the Horde."

"And these one's are just the start." Carver continued. "Just like Ostagar."

"You where there?" Aveline questioned. "Yes. I remember now, Third Company under Captain Varel. I caught the two of you arguing."

"Then you know about how the whole army was crushed by the Blight." Carver finished.

"We fell to betrayal, not defeat." Aveline said vehemently. "This arm of the Blight won't have the same advantage."

"I won't say I no to two extra pairs of swords..." Garret offered. "So long as your husband doesn't cause my sister any grief."

"So long as we all trying to escape, we have an accord." Wesley nodded in agreement. "My sword arm is gone, even with healing." He winced as tried to move his arm up and Aveline gently brought it back down.

"Then you'll have mine, like always." Aveline said. "For now we'll travel with you. The north is completely cut off. We barely managed to escape the main body of the horde."

"Oh no." Leandra said meekly and Bethany went to comfort her.

"Then we're trapped!" Carver remarked angrily. "The wilds are to the south, that's no way out!"

"We have no choice." Garret cut Carver off. "We go south and try everything we can to avoid the horde and get to Gwaren."

"Don't you know what's in those woods!?" The younger Hawke son refused to relent.

"Shut up, Carver! And get moving!" Garret retorted. This was no time to argue and everyone else had began to follow of Hawke.

They didn't get far. In between a middle-aged mother and a severely injured Templar their pace was slowed, even more so trying to cut down every darkspawn the came across. Just as they made it to a clearing that would to lead an entrance of the Kocari Wilds, there we surrounded by hurlocks. The three warriors made quick work of any darkspawn that got to close while Bethany used ice, fire and any other spells her father taught on the ones that were further away. And that's when the ground began rumble, hard and quick, like the fast marching of an army battalion. Rushing towards them was an Ogre. Hawke had never seen one before but had heard stories of their monstrous size. How he prayed to Andraste they were just stories.

The ogre gave a large bellow that made all the lesser darkspawn back down, dominated. And then the creature began to look towards the closest thing to crush. Why did it have to be his mother...and Carver?

"Carver!" Garret called to his brother. "You and mother get back!"

The Ogre continued to growl and slowly made its to his mother and brother, like a cat about to pounce a mouse. Carver stood there, did he not hear him? Was he afraid or just being foolish? Why wasn't Garret moving? Was he afraid too? For himself or for his family? It didn't matter, Carver made the fist move and his last.

"You soulless bastards!" He cried out and attacked from overhead with his greatsword.

The fell qunari just blocked it with it's massive forearm and then grabbed his younger brother and picked him up, as if he were some ragdoll. The creature slammed poor Carver into ground not once but twice, as if to taunt his family. And then threw him passed their mother.

"NOOO!" Garret yelled so loud it could be heard over the ogre's snarl.

"Carver!" His mother cried and rushed to her younger son as Bethany cried out in anguish.

Aveline rushed to her husband, who looked ready to faint from blood loss and Bethany, distraught from what the ogre did to her twin, began to rain whatever spell she could on it and it began to make it's way over to her. Garret wasn't going to lose another sibling.

Hawke remembered his trump card. "Over here, you son of a bitch!"

The ogre heard Hawke's challenged and came lumbering towards him, to visit the same fate it dealt his brother. Hawke had do this quick but had to time it just right. With a precise and deft flick of his wrist, a small, sleek black dagger flew from Garret's hand and right into the horrid beast's left eye. As the creature began to bellow and roar in pain and anger, Hawke saw his opportunity to finish it off. He charged the half-blind ogre as fast as he could, and as the beast grabbed it's own head with both hands in agony, Hawke leapt into the air with his longsword and with all his might jammed it into the ogre's heart. Again it roared an unnatural screech, but Hawke was not done. As he hung in the air, holding desperately to his sword, he could feel the feverish heat that radiated from the ogre and it's presence made him want to vomit. Before the muscular monster could regain itself, Hawke, with both hands on his sword, pulled himself downward using his weight. He could feel the creature's black blood spurt out from the trench he made in the ogre's chest and he felt the blade slice and break upon the muscle that was the darkspawn's heart.

Hawke quickly jumped off and scurried away to find a new weapon. As he stood back up he watched the damned thing still standing, still screaming and still bleeding like a stuck pig. Blood spurted everywhere, from it's chest, mouth and head. Giving one final angry howl it fell backwards on it's back. Garret wasn't leaving anything to chance and still owed the beast for his brother. Picking up Carver's greatsword from where it fell, Hawke jumped up and the tainted giant's chest once more and plunged all five feet of blade into the monster's skull. The ogre gave one last pathetic screech and was finally dead.

Garret looked around to see his sister, Aveline and even Wesley in awe at what he had accomplished by himself. Most normal men would've revealed in such a feat, but Hawke had no time for it. He joined Bethany in joining their mother in seeing to Carver.

"Carver?" Leandra wept as she tried to rouse her little boy. "Carver, sweetheart, please, wake up! It's over, we're fine!"

Bethany gave a sharp, horrified gasp as she saw the horrid state her brother's body was in. Garret was just as horrified. Carver's arms and legs had been broken and bent out place, with a sharp stump bone sticking out on at least one of each limb. The most disturbing black to look was his head. Half of his face had been scraped off and there was a small pool of blood towards the back of his head. Garret wouldn't dare say it but he could tell the back of his brother's skull was smashed.

Seeing that, Garret couldn't say anything, Aveline thought it would be best if she did, if but to spare the Hawke's anymore emotional turmoil. "I'm sorry, Madame. Your son is gone."

"No! These things...will not have him!" Leandra cried in anguish.

"Mother, please." Bethany was already crying and trying so hard not to sob. "Carver wouldn't want us to...stay here."

There was no time, they had to leave now, but mother loved her children so much, she could never abandon them, not even in their death.

"Mother, you must save your grief." Garret tried sway his mother without sounding callous. "We have to leave now."

"Don't you dare speak to me about grief!" Leandra lashed out at her eldest as if she were speaking to a stranger. "How could you let him run off like that!? Your little brother! My little boy." Leandra cradled Carver's head in her lap and wept over his body.

"Mistress, please." Wesley began, sounding sympathetic. "Allow me to commend your son to the Maker." Leandra nodded sadly, and the warrior priest began the prayers. "Ashes we were and ashes we become. Maker, give this young man a place at your side. Let us take comfort in the peace he has found in eternity."

Leandra kissed her younger son's head one last time. "I will never forget you, Carver."

Garret felt they should have more time to mourn, but the damened Blight wouldn't permit them.

"Carver wouldn't want us to make his death meaningless." That was best he could say at the moment as he lifted his brothers sword. "Let's go!"

"Blood and flames!" Aveline cursed, baring her sword and shield. The darkspawn had surrounded all of them. There was no way out. They were trapped.

Then they heard a great roar, one that would put even an army of ogres to shame. Looking behind them, they saw emerging from a tall hill, a High Dragon, one of the mightiest creatures ever to grace Thedas. The situation hadn't improved, in Hawke's mind; either to be fodder for the darkspawn of food for the dragon, but it would seem the Maker had finally shown them His favor.

The dragon nosedived towards the darkspawn, fire streaming from it's maw. As she glided above them, she thrashed at the darkspawn with her claws, rising again in the air with several Hurlock in her jaws, dropping them back down to earth from a high height. She landed on the ground with a resounding crash and began law fire on the horde and those that were fortunate to avoid it's breath were crushed by her claws or sent flying by her tail.

The surviving darkspawn realized this was a fight the couldn't win, and all fled. Hawke was still frightened; now that the spawn had fled that just left them to face the High Dragon. Hawke and Aveline took a stance and Bethany prepared a spell as the dragon walked towards them. Strange, the beast didn't act hostile or hungry. Instead it just stared at all of them as if curious and perhaps...amused?

The High Dragon wrapped her body with her wings, then a great wind swept around her. Light sparked from her body, shining through the membranes of her wings, and the beast seemed to shrink in size before a great, golden light sprung from the dragon, Hawke and the others shielded their eyes to not be blinded. Then a new figure emerged from the fires, carrying a dead Hurlock in it's grasp before letting it fall dead to the ground. It was...a woman?

"Well, well, what have we here?" She asked in a coy, amused tone. Before any of the companions could get a good look at her, the memory faded.

"What? That's it?" Sera asked. "Who was that lady?"

"That, my dear Buttercup, was Flemeth." Varric answered.

"The Witch of the Wilds?" Dorian asked surprised. Even in the Tevinter they've heard of Flemeth and her infamous daughters.

"Trust me, Sparkler. I saw her just once and I could never forget someone so...ominous" Varric confirmed.

"It's true." Zevran added. "Aedan and Alistair told me they were rescued by Flemeth herself from the Tower of Ishal."

"That was so horrible." Cassandra replied. "Having to witness your entire life destroyed. Fleeing your home, watching your family killed and having to leave to a new country just to survive."

"Yeah." Varric sighed. "Nobody ever said it, but for a while Leandra blamed Hawke for his brother's death and that just hurt him even more. And having to live in the pits of Kirkwall didn't help either."

"But that changed, yeah?" Sera chirped in. "My Friends their told me how a big shot named Hawke was living the high life while helping the little guys."

"Somehow I doubt he was rich fresh of the boat, Sera." Ranier pointed out.

"That's true. As soon as he met his dear uncle, Gamlen, they all learned how the family fortune was wasted on stupid shit and how Gamlen sold their ancestral estate just to pay of his debts." Varric informed. "Believe me, Hawke had to work hard to get to up in the world. The Fereldan way, he'd call it."

"He was filled with regret." Cole spoke all of sudden. "He witnessed his brother's death and couldn't stop it. They were never close and now they will never have a chance to make peace with each other. He can't lose his family again. He has to protect what he has left."

As Cole interpreted how his friend felt, Varric just looked sadder. "His misfortunes aren't over yet. Thing are gonna get worse before they ever get better. I think we all know that as a fact."

~XoXoXo~

The memories shifted, yet again. This time they were in a large city square. The streets were full to bursting with citizens coming and going through the market district, merchant's of every kind showing off their wears to whole crowds of people. The companions would've hade a hard time navigating through such crowded street if they weren't incorporeal. The walls and columns were made of marble and hard, white stone and the roads seemed to be carved, polished marble. Aside from the bronze statues of men in chains holding a woeful form, this city seemed nothing like how the imagine the place were the Mage-Templar war began.

"Ah! Welcome to my backyard!" Varric exclaimed, happy to be back home, even if it was just a memory. "Everyone, welcome to Kirkwall! One of the largest and richest cities in the Free Marches, now ruled by yours truly."

"Some of us have been here before, Varric." Cassandra pointed out.

"Huh. From all the things I've heard about the City of Chains, I expected everyone to be dismal and woeful." Dorian commented, surprised. "Instead, I see merchants selling, people buying, and coins exchanging. This doesn't seem all that bad."

"You're only seeing Hightown, Sparkler." The Viscount replied. "Believe me, in the lower districts things are much worse. Hell, things aren't all that great up here either."

"Yes." Vivienne confirmed. Being an experienced player of The Game she could read a lot about people. "All this spending and buying you see right now is to distract the young nobles, their wives and children from the harsh reality. Having a weak ruler and sharing your city with a small army of Qunari can't be good for the morale. No offense, Iron Bull."

"Oh. None taken." Iron Bull half chortled. "I'm not a Qunari anymore. Though, I would like to see how all those guys did here."

"Not well, Tiny." Varric answered dismally. "Not well at all."

"So, how did our favorite Champion get into this city." Zevran asked. "I'm not trying to sound rude but, how does a Fereldan refugee with no coin and a small family come in here. I doubt Kirkwall was all that anxious to let so many fleeing citizens when this place already looks full to bursting."

"You couldn't be more right, Shanks." The beardless dwarf confirmed. "Since Gamlen wasted the Amell name and fortune, Hawke and Bethany had to go into indentured service with a local smuggler gang."

"Wait a minute, that wasn't in your novel." Ranier pointed out.

"Somethings are best left unsaid, Hero. Less incriminating that way." Varric said under his breath. "Anyway, the two of them worked for a smuggler named Athenril for about a year. After said year was done, they were out of work and had to find some way to make coin and make sure Bethany had protection from the Templars."

~XoXoXo~

The company was now in some dirty hovel in, what they could guess, was Lowtown. They found there, of all things, a Chantry Sister. She had trimmed blonde hair with a narrow face. She had a natural prettiness to her, but sadly is was covered by the urgent scowl on her face. She had a companion with here, a Templar, that had his own unique brand of ugliness; he had a large square head, with a jutting forehead and prominent chin under huge, gaped teeth. As if to intentionally enhance his homeliness, his hair was shaved around his head, while the top tried, desperately, to imitate the stem of a carrot.

"Now, be quick but be thorough, Ser Varnel. There mustn't be any trace of us ever being here." The Chantry Sister commanded, not noticing a very displeased Garret walking in though the door with his friends in tow, looking equally pissed.

"Leaving so soon, Sister Petrice?" Hawke asked accusingly, crossing his arms.

"Hawke? H-Hawke! It was Hawke, wasn't it?" The Chantry Sister stuttered, greatly surprised to see the refugee. "You... took the Qunari from the city? Without incident?"

"Drop the act." Aveline demanded, threateningly. "We already know you set us up."

"Mind your tongue, Fereldan." The Templar barked.

"Please, do speak your mind." Petrice beckoned, motioning her guard to silence, whilst in an arrogant tone. There was no point in maintaining this charade.

"You set up the bodies of that Sarebaas' Karetaam right to us, to make it seem like we were the ones that killed them, so the Qunari, in turn, would kill us." Hawke declared, this wasn't an accusation, all of the facts said by Ketojen and Arvaarad were no coincidences.

"You return speaking their heathen language and seek to lecture me?" Petrice rebutted, as if she was the offended party.

"I return with my sword bared, demanding answers." Hawke replied, calmly, but drawing his sword. He was no one's fool.

That seemed to register with the fanatic, but she remained calm and tried to maintain control. "If you were slain by the Qunari, whilst training to help their slave, yes, someone might have found that useful. It would have cast doubt on appeasement, so your death might have been a...tragic necessity. Perhaps..."

"Enough with the ifs, perhaps, and maybes, woman." Garret ordered sternly. He had heard enough of her rhetoric. "Your an idiot that want's to incite violence against the Qunari, hoping it will oust them."

"And you're a mercenary sympathizer, that has no idea of the stakes at hand." The Sister remarked in a superior tone. "Take your coin and slink back into the refuse. The next time I seek to do the Maker's work, I shall not look outside the faithful again." Petrice finished, tossing a bag of gold towards Hawke that he caught in mid-air.

Garret felt the weight of his payment, but now she just made it personal. Hawke was, indeed, a religious man. He had always attended Mass with his mother and siblings, even here in Kirkwall. But he was always also a mindful man. His father once told him that a man's religion, regardless of what it was, was between him and his deity. He had no right pass judgement on another's belief's and neither did this zealous sister, looking to use violence against the Qunari, in the name of the Maker.

"You set me up to be murdered in the name of bigotry, Petrice." Hawke declared. "Now I want DOUBLE this amount."

"You're as unfaithful as you are greedy, you filthy Qunari, dog-lord!" Varnel growled, drawing his blade. Not smart, because then Hawke's friends drew their weapons and got spells ready. Petrice could tell the odds weren't in the favor.

"You dare to extort a member of the Chantry? Are you truly looking to make an enemy of the Faithful, Hawke?" Petrice glared angrily.

"Of the Faithful? No." Hawke clarified. "But you certainly made an enemy out of me. And now, I want TRIPLE this amount, for your Templar's poor attitude."

The Chantry sister was looking very nervous. "You there! Guard! If this heathen attacks, you must defend us."

Aveline crossed her arms and showed no inclination to aid the lying Chantry sister. "Nope. I don't think so. I could very well arrest the both of you for conspiracy to commit murder. Imagine how that will affect your cause."

"This whole thing is pointless, Hawke." Fenris replied. "We should just kill them both and hide their corpses."

"I know a perfect place in the sewers we can dump their bodies." Anders spoke out in agreement.

"Here, here!" Isabella said cheerily.

"Do you really think the Chantry will notice two of it's most prominent servants have disappeared!?" Petrice demanded, trying to maintain a strong face.

"Believe me, Sister, it wouldn't surprise anyone." Varric informed. "Just another couple'a dead do-gooders, lost to Lowtown.

Petrice was beginning to realize that this whole this was out of her depth, the next time she acted for Maker, she would need more of the true and believing servants. For now, she had to get out of the situation she was in. "I don't have that amount."

"It just isn't your day then, now is it?" Anders glowered.

"Fine." Hawke said, surprising them all. "Your Templars arms and armor. Give them to me."

"Are you serious?" Petrice asked incredulously.

"As the Blight." Hawke confirmed sternly. "Templar arms and armor are of very high quality and a good fence could fetch me a high price. Besides, it's not like it would've done him any good anyway."

The veins in Varnel's head looked full to bursting, but Petrice gave him a calm look and nodded. The Templar began to strip his armor without a word, but his face said it all. He left them on a pile behind him and tried to usher his charge out quickly.

"Spend it well, Hawke." Petrice called out as she began to exit. "The Judgement comes faster than one might expect."

A black knife flew right passed her face, and Hawke was in no further mood for debate. "Your going to face my judgment if you're not gone in the next minute."

"So...now what do we do?" Merrill asked innocently.

"Varric, Isabela, Anders, take the Templar's armor and see who will buy it at the best price. The rest of us will go straight to Qunari Compound and explain this to the Arishok." Hawke stated.

"Are sure that's a smart move, Garret?" Bethany asked. "Won't this whole thing just make him angry?"

"We need to explain to him why a small band of his soldiers and his Sarebaas are missing. He could very well find out about this, and would be even angrier that we tried to sweep it under the rug. I'd rather inform him of what really happened and avoid some sort of reprisal." The future Champion explained.

"I agree." Aveline said. "Better he knows the full story, than cause trouble trying to find out what happened."

The memory ended there and the whole company just stood there trying to understand what happened.

"Okay, who the hell was that and what has any of this got do with the Qunari?" Asked Zevran.

"Petrice, an official of the Chantry." Their Varric answered disdainfully. "Long story short, she was a zealot that had been stirring the feelings of the people against Qunari for years, and pretty soon began inciting violence against them."

"We've heard of people like her." Cassandra added. "Many within the Chantry see the Qun as a challenge, if not a threat."

"Yeah, well, when she took the challenge to heart." Varric wasn't finished. "Years of propaganda against the Qunari and people all of the Kirkwall converting to Qun, hoping for a better life, finally set her over. Tired of Hawke's constant interference and viewing him as a Qunari himself, she murdered Viscount's Dumar's son and tried pinning Hawke for it."

"The shit!" Sera cursed. "The hell she do that for?"

"Seamus was a recent Qunari convert, if the son of the Viscount converted how many more would follow his example." The deshyr explained.

"Not to stray off track or sound a like dick, but what happened to that Sarebaas, their Ketojen?" Iron Bull asked.

"He explained that he couldn't live outside the Qun, nor could he return to them with the possibility of attracting a demon, so he lit himself on fire and died." informed Varric.

"Damn." The former Ben-Hassrath cursed sadly. " The sarebaas have a raw deal in the Qun, either their loyal and faithful to the Qun or their bitter and angry."

"Well this guy sure as shit wasn't bitter about in the Qun." Varric went on. "And this guy had his lips and eyes sewn shut, with a collar chains around his neck."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Iron Bull didn't want to argue. "No religion is perfect, this part in the Champ's memories certainly prove that."

"What ever became of that bitch?" Ranier asked. "Someone like her couldn't have prospered with the Champion as an enemy."

"You couldn't be more right, Hero." Varric confirmed. "Like I said she tried to blame Hawke for Seamus' murder to Grand Cleric Elthina, but she'd been aware of Petrice's misgivings earlier and Hawke was known to an honest goody-goody. So instead she stripped Petrice of her rank in the Chantry, and allowed Hawke and Aveline to arrest her."

"Wow." Dorian huffed. "The very religion she committed murder for left her high and dry. Sounds poetic."

"Yeah, especially the part where she was killed by a Qunari archer, right before Hawke and Aveline could arrest her." Varric informed. "After that feelings against the Qunari got worse, if the could kill someone for breaking the city's own laws, what else could the do?"

XoXoXoXo

The memory shifted away from the rundown hovel where Hawke extorted Petrice. They found themselves on the outskirts of Kirkwall. Not at the docks where the giant chains leading from the immense weeping statues of slaves were at to greet oncoming ships, but just outside the entrance to the rest of the Free Marches. Walking over the hills on the dusty trail leading to the City of Chains was Hawke and several of his companions. Hawke, Merrill, Isabella, Fenris, Anders, and of course Varric.

All of them looked like they'd been through one horrible ordeal. Their clothing and armor was in tatters, all covered in dirt and mud, looked as though none of them had bathed or had a decent night's sleep in at least two weeks. However, despite their fatigue and ragged appearance, there were wide smiles on all their faces. After what must have been a terrible venture, it was finally good to be back in foul-smelling, corrupt, yet so familiar Kirkwall.

None smiled as brightly and victoriously as Garret Hawke. The reason for his sense of jubilation was slung over his shoulder in a massive sack so heavy that lesser men would have collapsed under its weight, but Hawke would not let something as meaningless fatigue keep him from getting home. If anything, carrying the sack's weight only served to make him walk faster to his destination.

"Now what is this? It looks as though Ser Hawke and his compatriots have been rolling in dirt and haven't even bothered to bathe in weeks." Vivienne observed with a raised eyebrow.

"You got that right, Madame Vivienne." Varric answered, looking on the memory of himself and his friends with deep nostalgia. "I could never forget this day. It set us down the road to everything that happened in Kirkwall."

"And what day was that?" Zevran inquired curiously.

"The day we left the Deep Roads with enough gold to fix an economy." Varric answered without a hint of sarcasm.

"I remember this from when you told Hawke's story." Cassandra recalled. "It was when you and Hawke went into the Deep Roads to search for treasure, and found that Primeval Thaig."

"Yeah, it was also when we found that damned red lyrium idol that my brother Bartrand left us to die to have." Varric said with disappointment and regret. "But we came out of that damned hole rich men, richer than my family ever was back when we were nobles in Orzammar. Everything that led to the Mage-Templar crisis started today, and Hawke's grudge began."

"Grudge? What grudge?" Cassandra asked.

"Just keep watching Seeker. You'll see." Varric assured with a sense of regret in his voice.

All of Hawke's companions went their separate ways to finally find some relaxation. After being trapped in the Deep Roads and forced to fight its horrible denizens, they had more than earned it. He left the treasure they were able to take with them with Varric, he knew who would pay the best price for what they found. No longer being burdened by the treasure or fear of the Deep Roads, Hawke practically raced back down to Gamlen's hovel in Lowtown.

He didn't care that he was caked in blood and reeked to high heaven, because after today, his family's troubles were over. No more smuggling and working for the scum of the city to make ends meet, no more living in shame of where they were, or in fear of being discovered by the Templars. And best of all, no more Gamlen. After a year of eking a living in the pits of society, Hawke can fulfill his promise to his father, and give his family the life they deserved. It was the least he could do after failing to save Carver.

Garret ran past everyone in Lowtown and made it to the sorry excuse that was his uncle's house. The thought of his mother and sister's faces when they saw him filled Garret with unbridled anticipation.

"Mother! Bethany! We did it! The venture paid off! We never have to worry about money again!" Hawke shouted as he burst through the door, unable to restrain his excitement any more. What felt like a burning knife buried deep in his chest quickly killed all sense of joy and replaced it with dread the instant he walked into the house. His mother, sister and uncle were all there to greet him, with a group of Templars with them. Cullen was there with them.

"Uh-oh. This doesn't look good." Iron Bull observed.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, Tiny." Varric assured, a sad look covering his face as he watched the scene unfold before him.

"This was when Hawke's sister was taken to the Circle, isn't it?" Cassandra realized.

"Yeah." Varric answered melancholically. "Everything just wasn't the same without Sunshine around."

"What's going on here?" Hawke blatantly demanded the Templars.

Cullen stepped forward, his face stern and unapologetic. "Mistress Bethany is being taken to the Circle of Magi in the Gallows."

All feelings of joy and celebration inside Hawke instantly died and replaced by anger and outrage. After everything he had gone through just to get back to his family, and the Templars dared to break his family apart even further.

"You're not taking my sister anywhere!" Hawke shouted so furiously his voice rang out from the dingy hovel and echoed throughout Lowtown.

"Serrah Hawke, please, be reasonable. You know that this is what is supposed to happen." Cullen said calmly, trying to rationalize with his fellow Fereldan.

Hawke drew the dwarven steel longsword from his hip and flashed it at the Templars, ready to decorate Gamlen's shack with their blood. "You come into my family's home, tell me that you're going to take my sister to that sorry prison you call a Circle like it's nothing, and have the gall to ask me to be reasonable!? I've spent the last few weeks killing things far worse than Templars, and I didn't go through all that just to let you take my sister from us now!"

Cullen and the Templars went for their weapons, refusing to let Hawke's emotional fit interfere with their duty, and Hawke refused to let these Templar bastards damn his sister to the Gallows. It seemed like a bloody confrontation was unavoidable, and people were going to die, until Bethany stood between her brother and the Templars, and placed her hand on Garret's sword arm.

"Garret, please, stop this now." Bethany beseeched earnestly. "It's done. I don't anyone to die on my behalf."

Hawke looked at his last remaining sibling pleadingly, unable to let her go. "Bethany, please..."

Bethany shook her head. Her mind was made up, and she would not let her fate undo what her brother accomplished. "No, Big Brother. I've accepted what's happened, you must, too. Maybe this is for the best. I'm tired of hiding in the shadows, scared to show who and what I am. It's time I found my own life."

Hawke's face twisted with emotion. He went through hell to provide for his family and keep his sister safe, and he failed miserably, again. Just like with Carver. Hawke finally relented and sheathed his sword, honoring his sister's wish. He hugged his sister close to him, one last time. Maker knows if he'd be able to see her again after today.

Cullen and his Templars withdrew their weapons when they were confident Hawke wasn't going to be a threat. Having siblings of his own, Cullen understood Hawke's anger, but he wouldn't apologize for carrying out his duty. "Consider yourselves fortunate. Her cooperation allows us to spares you from punishment for harboring a dangerous mage, this once."

Hawke flashed an angry glare at Cullen and instinctively went for his sword again at Cullen's insensitive tone, but refrained on his sister's behalf.

Leandra hurried to her daughter's side with the worry only a mother could have for her child. She hugged her daughter as close as possible, as if that would make her stay. "Oh, Bethany, what's going to happen to you?"

"Don't worry, Mother. I'll be fine." Bethany assured, trying to convince herself as much as her mother. She turned her attention back to her older brother, that pleading look still in her eyes. "Garret, please take care of her."

Hawke joined his mother and hugged his sister one last time, guilt and shame welling up inside him for failing her. "I'm sorry, Bethany. I failed you."

"No, you did not fail me. This wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault." Bethany promised, knowing the guilt her brother was feeling right now. She took a deep breath to find her courage, and quietly walked out with the Templars.

Leandra fell to her knees on the floor and cried in grief as she helplessly watched another of her children being taken from her. Hawke went to his mother and held her gently while Gamlen placed a caring hand on his sister's shoulder. As Hawke watched the Templars take his sister away like it was nothing, a spark of anger awoke inside him. The Templars never noticed the vengeful glare the future Champion gave them, but Varric and the others did. It was almost the same as Aedan's Cousland's, as close as anyone could get.

"Maker...suddenly I don't feel too bad about when the Champion punched out Cullen back in Skyhold two years ago." Dorian said sympathetically.

"What a bunch of pricks!" Sera said with disgust. "I mean, there he was, all happy and everything, then those guy in their skirts and fancy armor take a big, fat shit on his family."

"I had a sister once, her name was Liddy." Ranier said sorrowfully. "She died of a fever when she was very young. I would have done anything to protect her, just like the Champion."

"Except the Champion's sister was taken away by some terrible illness, she was stolen from her family." Zevran stated disdainfully. "By Cullen of all people. I still remember when the man was trapped in the Fereldan Circle, crying like a little girl."

"I sympathize with what happened to the Champion's family, I truly do, but the Templars were simply carrying out their duty, and it was probably for the best." Vivienne spoke out in her usual calm, almost cold demeanor. "Too many times has such sentimentalities led to magical disasters where many innocent people paid the price. Bethany was wise to go to the Circle willingly."

"Yeah, straight into the loving and merciful arms of the most paranoid, ruthless zealot in all of Thedas. I'm sure living under the same roof as Meredith must have been an utter joy for Bethany." Varric said satirically, and looked up at Vivienne with anger. "Vivienne, you've got no idea what you're even talking about. Bethany was no misguided child who needed to be schooled, or a walking danger to others, you saw yourself how well her father trained her. You have no idea what Hawke went through to try and keep his sister safe! He went further into the Deep Roads than even the Wardens could dream of, killed scores of darkspawn, demons and rock-wraiths to bring back that treasure and give his family a good life! Who were the Templars to just take that from him!?"

Everyone was taken back Varric's unusual outburst of anger. Apparently, Vivienne had stepped on a raw nerve. Even after over a decade since this memory occurred, it was still a source of pain for the dwarven rogue.

"While certain people here got to go around sipping wine, or rub elbows with the Chantry's most powerful, good people like Bethany and her family were suffering from Meredith's tyranny and lunacy! And none of you gave a single nug-shit about what was going on here until it became an inconvenience for you life. So don't you dare act as if what happened here was some minor misfortune. Don't even go there!" Varric finished angrily getting his point across.

Vivienne didn't know whether to be shocked or impressed with Varric's sudden outburst. She didn't realize that he was capable of being this loud, given his stature, or was this sensitive on the subject. "My dear Viscount, I'm sorry if what I said offended, but the fact of the matter is..."

Vivienne's self-righteous explanation was cut very short when she felt a certain strong hand grip her shoulder firmly, warning her to be quiet. It was the sword hand of Seeker Cassandra. "Vivienne, that's enough. You are hardly one to judge what happened to the Champion's family, and it's despicable for you to use this tragedy as another means to justify your own agenda. I thought the very same thing when I first heard this story, and I was wrong. This is just one more reminder as to how we failed to protect the innocent, and instead made victims of them."

~XoXoXo~

The world warped around them, and the magic of this strange place took them to yet another memory in Hawke's life. They found themselves standing in some kind of giant stone tower in the middle of nowhere. It was a massive monolith of solid rock, erected like a dead bone jutting out from the ground, but was hidden from the sight of the world by the wall of arid mountains that covered the landscape. It was hidden in plain sight in a wasteland that none dared inhabit.

"Where...where are we now?" Dorian asked curiously.

"If I was to guess, I'd say we're still in the Free Marches." Iron Bull observed as he took in the landscape around them.

"We're in the middle of the Vimmark mountains, just north of Kirkwall, over a pass that leads straight into the Deep Roads." Varric said, his hands shaking and his face turning pale.

"Master Tethras, what's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost." Zevran asked curiously.

"How's about a darkspawn magister!?" Varric shouted pointing behind them.

Everyone turned around to see the object of Varric's fear, and were instantly filled with the same sense of horror that would cause other lesser people to die of fright. It was Corypheus, the Elder One, and he was preparing to attack. All of them instinctively went for their weapons as the apex of evil stood before them. They had all faced his power before and lost, but they would not be easy marks for him. Just as Corypheus summoned an extremely powerful beam of red destructive energy at them, Hawke jumped between them and Corypheus' attack, deflecting the column of red energy with an enchanted shield bearing his family crest.

"Burn you miserable insect! Your blood is my key to freedom!" Corypheus yelled as he furiously unleashed his magic on Hawke.

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you want either, you vile thing!" Hawke shouted from behind his shield. Corypheus wanted his blood, which made Hawke the perfect distraction. While this darkspawn monstrosity was focused on him, it gave his companions the opportunity they needed to use their own strengths against the creature. "Hit him with everything you've got! NOW!"

Sebastian and Varric loosed their arrows as rapidly as possible, aiming right for the tainted abomination's eyes. Merrill and Anders fought fire with fire and unleashed their own magic on Corypheus, Anders' spirit magic and Merrill's Dalish spells combined with her bloodmagic. Fenris' lyrium tattoos burned like torches on his skin as he unleashed all his years of repressed anger and disgust for Tevinter on this progenitor of the Blights, and slashed at Corypheus with his greatsword with astounding speed, cutting him deeply. Isabella threw a swarm of daggers at Corypheus, each one lodging deep in his wretched body. Aveline delivered the coup de gras by charging the ancient darkspawn and planting her sword deep in its vile being with all her might.

"ENOUGH!" Corypheus roared furiously. He clasped his hands together and unleashed a shockwave of concussive energy that matched the power of an earthquake and sent them all flying back. The force was so powerful it shattered the ground. Their efforts to harm him were meaningless, as Corypheus used his magic to quickly heal all the wounds they inflicted on him.

Hawke had shielded himself from Corypheus' counterattack and watched helplessly as his comrades were sent flying backwards, and Corypheus began to heal himself. Despite his power, Hawke knew this creature was still weak after being dormant for over a thousand years, and despite the power of his magic, it was outdated. Magic had evolved sine the days of the Ancient Imperium, and Hawke knew how to fight against the Primal School of Magic Corypheus was using. The only problem was being able to actually harm this monster. Thankfully, Hawke held the only weapon that could harm Corypheus, the very thing that had imprisoned him: his father's Keyblade.

Cassandra and the others watched as Hawke engaged Corypheus on his own. It took them a moment to finally calm down and realize that this was just another memory. Even after being dead for two years, none of them could forget the Elder One's power, and the thought of him being alive again was almost too much to bear.

"So, this is when Hawke first fought Corypheus in the tower the Grey Wardens imprisoned him in." Cassandra realized, remembering how Varric told her this story.

"Yep." Varric said, recollecting himself. "This is how the nightmare started."

"How in Andraste's holy name did the Champion end up in such horrid place and unleashing such a horrid creature?" Dorian asked.

"Long story, Sparkler." Varric answered. "Basically, the Grey Wardens imprisoned Corypheus here after the First Blight, but they needed Malcolm Hawke's blood to strengthen the seal. Corypheus used his power over the taint to corrupt a group of Grey Wardens and Carta gangsters to lure Hawke here so he could be freed from his prison. The Grey Warden who forced Malcolm to seal Corypheus, Warden-Commander Larius, was now a twitchy ghoul and led us to Corypheus, it was our only way out. We were forced to kill Janeka, the Warden who wanted to free Corypheus, and her Carta lackeys. And the only way out of this forsaken place was through the very cause of all the Blights." Varric paused a moment as a wide, proud smile spread across his face. "Hawke and Sunshine kicked his fucking ass."

"No kidding. Just look at them!" Iron Bull pointed to the battle between the Elder One and future Champion and his sister, his single eye filled with amazement.

Everyone watched in admiration as Hawke and Bethany stood fought against this terrible foe. It was like watching a well choreographed play unfold before them, and as they were the audience, they couldn't help but be awed by how in tune with each other's movements the Hawke siblings were. Their respective styles complimented each other flawlessly, each a reflection of their father's training.

Corypheus knew his only path to freedom was through one of these two, he would kill one and use the other. Neither of Malcolm's children made it easy on him. Bethany unleashed all the magic her father taught her on Corypheus, using the style of the Force Mage, she drew Corypheus' attention away from her brother by usingWhi the very powers of gravity against him to crush his body and slow his actions. She would not let this creature harm her brother.

While his sister kept Corypheus distracted with her magic, Garret attacked the tainted monstrosity head on with the Keyblade, his father's legacy. The weight of the sword enhanced the power of the swing while it's sickly-shaped end carved even deeper in Corypheus' disease-ridden flesh, and the flame enchantments on the sword cauterized the wound, making it impossible to heal, even with magic. Hawke deflected the magister's primal attacks with his family's enchanted shield, then exploited every opening he made. Corypheus' magic was powerful. Hawke couldn't give an inch or be caught off guard, not for an instant. This creature threatened his family, forced his father to go against everything he believed in by using bloodmagic. Hawke would slay this monster, and finish what his father started.

Cassandra and the others watched as the two Hawke siblings engaged Corypheus, and were amazed by not only their effective synchronization, but also just how weak Corypheus was compared to when they fought him, when he destroyed Haven and attacked the Temple of Mythal. He wasn't nearly as powerful. Then they all realized that at this time, Corypheus didn't have the Orb of Destruction to empower him. Solas said that it drew on the power of the elven gods, and Cassandra began to wonder just how powerful they truly were. It was no wonder Solas was so upset when it was destroyed; with that kind of power, the elves could have overthrown humanity.

Hawke deflected another blast of magic energy Corypheus hurled at him, redirecting it right back at him. Corypheus own magic turned on him, causing him terrible pain. Hawke found the opening he needed, and charged the towering darkspawn creature, cleaving him from neck to navel. Corypheus cried in agony as his torso opened, his black, tainted innards falling out, and collapsed to his knees. It was time to finish this.

Hawke loomed over the tainted monster. If this thing truly assaulted the Golden City, it was Hawke's duty as an Andrastian to slay it. Corypheus looked up at him, and sick, twisted grin spread on his foul face, like the creature was taunting him. Hawke used the sickly end of his sword to rend Corypheus' vile head from his body in one deft stroke, knocking that smile off his face in the process.

Hawk looked down on Corypheus' dead body, his mind deep in thought. Was this truly one of the Magister's that broke into the Golden City? Was what it said true, that Golden City was black and full of decay? It didn't matter, not to Hawke. This thing was a threat to his family, and Hawke stopped it, he had completed his father's mission. Hawke looked at the Keyblade in his hand, and raised it to his head reverently.

"That was for you, and all you did for us, Father." Hawke spoke like a prayer.

~XoXoXo~

The memory of Hawke's victory over Corypheus faded into blackness, and Varric and the others found themselves standing nowhere once again. Even after the memory had passed, all of them were still standing in awe by what they had witnessed.

"Holy shit, that was awesome!" Iron Bull hollered excitedly.

"And I thought watching the Champion kill an entire hit squad of Antivan Crows was impressive. That was something else!" Zevran stated, sharing Bull's enthusiasm.

"It was brilliant, yeah?" Sera said, getting hyper. "I mean, Coryphy-nuts didn't stand a chance!"

"And did you see his sister's magic? It was magnificent." Dorian said with admiration. "I've never seen a mage with such control over Force-type spells."

"They came here together, family, friends, and lovers, to defend those they cared about. Corypheus didn't know how strong they were until it was too late." Cole said empathically.

"It was extremely impressive, I cannot deny that..." Vivienne said honestly. "But, it was all for naught, as we've all seen. The Champion didn't slay Corypheus, only delayed him. If the Champion actually had the means to slay the creature, everything that happened to years ago would never have come to pass."

"More than that, did any of you notice how much weaker Corypheus was compared to when we fought him?" Cassandra spoke informally. "At Haven and the Temple of Mythal, he was infinitely more powerful than this, even Rajmael wasn't a match for him."

"It was the Orb, remember?" Dorian recalled. "Solas said that it channeled the power of the ancient elven gods. Corypheus harnessed that power to increase his own power."

"If that thing channeled their power, then just how powerful were the Evanuris themselves?" Ranier wondered.

"None of that matters. Not here, anyway." Varric spoke out somberly. "Hawke didn't fail here, he did what he set out to do: protect those he loved. That, as far as I'm concerned, is the noblest of all goals."

~XoXoXo~

The environment once again shifted around them, placing them in yet another memory of Hawke's life long since passed. Why they were witnessing such things, why they were being allowed to peer into his life, as they did with Aedan, none of them knew. They found themselves standing outside the Kirkwall Chantry, a many torches had been lit and many people had gathered, their faces forlorn and full of sadness. None sadder or more bitter than Garret Hawke, who stood at the head of the gathering, his face twisted with grief, try as he might to hide it as he stood before a large, unlit stack of wood meant for a pyre.

"Oh, no...no. Not this again." Varric said, his face matching Hawke's sadness, and turned his back away from the memory.

"Varric? What's wrong?" Cassandra asked concernedly, wondering what kind of memory this was that even Hawke's best friend couldn't bare to look on it.

Varric face fell into his hand, to keep himself from seeing the memory, or to keep his comrades from seeing him like this. "I'm sorry, Seeker. I already saw this once, I don't need to see it again."

Grand Cleric Elthina and a procession of her flock walked out of the Chantry, carrying a coffin between them, and set it on the unlit pyre. On the coffin there was an inscription clearly written, and Cassandra suddenly realized what was happening, why Hawke was so tormented, why Varric couldn't bare to look.

Leandra Hawke of House Amell

Beloved Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister.

She Loved Many, And Was Loved By Them.

This was Leandra Hawke's funeral, after she was horribly murdered by the insane Maleficar, Quentin. How could Cassandra have forgotten that story? A sense of guilt came over Cassandra, realizing just how profound this moment was. This was one of the worst days in Hawke's life, yet none of them ever cared to know how it effected him. In her search for Hawke, she never took a moment to understand how much his family had suffered.

Grand Cleric Elthina spoke the funeral rites, invoking the Maker's love and wishing Leandra's spirit peace. When she was finished, Hawke lit his mother's funeral pyre, and watched as she was given to the flames. She watched over him in life, now he must help her pass over in death. Many people had come to pay their final respects to his mother.

All his companions were there for him, and showed reverence for this ceremony. Varric stood silently next to Hawke. No jokes, no sarcasm, just respectful silence, and never feeling an ounce of remorse for killing that bastard, Gascard du Puis. Aveline kept a strong face, though it was obvious Leandra's death hurt her as well. Leandra was the closest thing to a mother Aveline ever had, and would miss her deeply. Anders gave his deepest condolences, and wished that he could have done something to save her. Fenris remained silent, but showed the utmost respect, knowing how much Leandra meant to all these people, while Sebastian recited the prayer rites as Elthina did.

Both Hawke's lovers stood closest to him, trying to offer what comfort they could. Both of them knew how much this was tearing Hawke up inside, that he blamed himself for his mother's death. Merrill brought a flower pot with a juvenile rose bush planted in it. In Dalish tradition, they plant trees to remember their loved ones, and Merrill wanted to plant something beautiful to honor Leandra's memory. Isabella held Hawke's hand tightly in hers, and couldn't help but be moved to tears for Leandra, and wished with all her heart that her own mother had loved her as much as Leandra did her child.

Gamlen did everything he could to keep himself together, but he couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Despite his many faults and what he had put her through, Gamlen loved his sister, and now wished he had been a better brother to her. Hawke was surprised to see how many other people came to honor his mother. Both the lord and lady De Launcet came and offered their sincerest regrets, for they both knew and grey up with his mother, and knew there was no other woman like her in all of Thedas. Even the Arishok sent an emissary to convey his respects, for Leandra must have been an exceptional woman to have raised a man like Hawke, and would have been worthy of being a tamassran.

"Hello, Brother." A familiar greeted sadly behind Hawke. It was his sister Bethany.

Hawke took a deep breath to brace himself. He was too ashamed to even look at his sister. Instead, she turned him to meet her, and Bethany hugged him closely to her. Garret's strong face broke, and finally allowed himself to cry with his beloved sister.

"Bethany...I'm so sorry." Hawke wept bitterly. "It was my fault, I couldn't save her."

"No, Garret, you can't blame yourself." Bethany cried in her brother's arms, trying to assuage his guilt. "You didn't kill our mother, and she wouldn't want you to blame yourself for another man's crime."

"First Carver, then you, now Mother." Garret said, his guilt tearing him up inside. "Father would probably be ashamed of me for failing to protect our family."

Bethany looked up at her brother, shocked and almost angry at what he just said. "Garret, you know Father could never be ashamed of you. You did everything you could for our family. All you've ever done since we arrived in Kirkwall was honor our father's memory. If he were alive now, I know he would be proud of you, just as Mother was every day of her life."

Hearing his sister tell him this, helped assuage the guilt and shame Hawke felt inside. Usually, it was always Garret trying to lift Bethany's spirit, and now here she was doing it for him at his time of need. "It's funny, Sister, you sounded just like Mother right now."

"You've still got me, Big Brother. And I don't intend to go anywhere." Bethany promised, hugging her brother to him.

Another figure approached Hawke, and his feelings of sadness were replaced with outrage. It was the Templar, Cullen.

"And just what do you think you're doing here, Cullen?" Hawke demanded, angry that the man was interrupting his mourning with his sister.

Cullen remained calm and respectful. He couldn't expect Serrah Hawke to be the most cordial, given the circumstances. "I was assigned as your sister's escort so that she could attend your mother's funeral."

"Must be Meredith's good deed for the year." Hawke said sarcastically.

Cullen lowered his head and dared to drop formalities to show a modicum of sympathy for what happened to Leandra Hawke. After all, it was for reasons like this that he became a Templar in the first place. "Serrah Hawke, I am...very sorry, to both of you, for what happened to your mother. We should have caught Quentin years ago, then all this might have been avoided."

"Your condolences are appreciated, Ser Cullen." Bethany said politely.

Unlike his sister, Cullen's words brought no appeasement to Garret. If anything, the Templar's sentiment only served to aggravate Hawke even further. "Not as sorry as I am. Maybe if you Templars had actually been doing your jobs, instead of abusing the Circle mages and unlawfully rendering them Tranquil, maybe my mother and a dozen other women would still be alive!"

"I understand that you're angry, but it's for reasons like this the Order exists. It's easy to blame us when tragedies like this strike." Cullen tried to reason. "I would have saved your mother if I could."

"Don't speak as though you're some kind of friend to my family, Cullen. It is a fucking INSULT!" Hawke shouted furiously than anyone had seen him before, and caught everyone's attention. "How dare you act as if you care about what happened to our mother after what you put her through!? You took my sister out of her life, breaking her heart, and didn't even bother to look back! And now, after our mother is dead, you pretend to care. If she had been killed by a non-mage, none of you Templars would even bother to know her name! Your hypocrisy is disgusting, Cullen!"

Almost all the attendants were stunned by Hawke's words, but none more than Cullen. He didn't expect such anger to be directed towards him. "Hawke, I..."

"Get out of my sight, Cullen. Before I do what I should have done the last time you interrupted a moment with my family." Hawke's warning was no mere threat made in anger. After everything he had been through, the anger he still felt over his mother's murder, he was ready to follow through with that promise, for he was thoroughly offended by Cullen's presence.

Cullen said nothing. He just bit his lip, and remembered that this was funeral. He tried to convince himself that Hawke was merely angry and in mourning over his mother, but he knew deep down that this is what Hawke truly felt. And deep down, Cullen knew he couldn't blame him. The Templar did what was demanded of him and made his way to the back of the gathering, but made sure Bethany remained in his sight. After all, he still had a duty to perform.

Bethany stood next to her brother and all her friends, happy to see them all once again, even in the midst of this tragedy. Her heart was broken, but at least she still had Garret. She whispered a small prayer for her brother, and hoped that her mother would find peace with their father and brother. She also prayed that the Maker would be merciful, and not break up her family any more than it had been. She and Garret were all that survived her parents, the last of their family. She knew that neither one of them could bare it if something happened to the other.

~XoXoXo~

The memory of Leandra's funeral faded into blackness. Seeing how Hawke lost yet another member of his family and was helpless to do anything to stop it. Seeing how susceptible to lose, anguish and heartache the Champion was made them all remember that despite Hawke's legendary reputation, amazing feats and capability, he was still only a man. He wasn't a powerful mage like Rajmael, or a mutated freak like Aedan, but merely a man. And men have their limits, and they fail.

It wasn't until Varric was certain that the memory was over that he finally turned to face them. He rubbed his eyes, trying very hard not to make it seem like he was about to cry, even if that was what he was going to do.

"That...was one of the worst days of Hawke's life." Varric whispered, his face twisted with sadness. "No kid should ever have to lay their parent to rest in the state that freak Quentin left Leandra in. Every day, Hawke wished he could have found that sick son of a bitch sooner. Could have saved his mother and a dozen other women."

Everyone remained quiet as Varric spoke, not bothering to comment on what they saw. They chose to respect what this memory meant to both Varric and Hawke. None of them could possibly know what kind of pain Hawke, Varric and all their friends felt when Leandra died.

"But Hawke was right about one other thing." Varric continued, finally resuming his normal attitude. "He had every damned right to be angry with the Templars. Maybe if they had taken Emeric's investigation more seriously, maybe if they weren't too busy making the Circle Mages miserable, like that bastard Ser Alrik, and focused on finding actual bloodmages, maybe Quentin wouldn't have butchered and mutilated Hawke's mother and all those other women. Instead, Meredith, and all those other pricks like her, saw Leandra's death as yet another excuse to treat mages like shit."

"Given everything you just said, you don't think their measures were justified?" Vivienne asked more incredulous than curious.

"Meredith tried to use Leandra's death to try and make Hawke see things her way, and all it did was piss him off because it insulted his mother's memory." Varric answered sternly. "Leandra married an apostate and raised an apostate daughter, and those were the happiest years of her life. If anything, Leandra believed in peaceful coexistence with mages, not locking them away and treating them life prisoners."

~XoXoXo~

Varric and the rest of them were staring at his new office; the Viscount's throne room. Surrounding the room was a small squad of Qunari, armed and dangerous and already looked like they were in a battle. Huddled all together in the great hall, surrounded by a lot pissed off Keroshok, were many well dressed and frightened people, most likely the Kirkwall nobility. And descending from the foot of the throne was the Arishok.

"The hell's goin' on here?" Sera asked.

"We're about to find out." Ranier answered.

"Here is your Viscount." The Arishok announced as the Kirkwall elite screamed terrible cries of terror when the Qunari general threw Viscount Marlowe Dumar's severed head at their feet, staring back at them with blank, dead eyes.

"You dare!?" One indignant noble called out. "Your starting a war!" The Arishok motioned his head and one of his soldiers snapped the poor man's neck from behind, striking fear into the remaining nobility as if they were sheep to the slaughter.

"Look at you!" The Arishok bellowed as if he were speaking to ignorant children. "Like fat dathrasi, you feed and feed, and complain only when your meal is interrupted! You do not look up! You do not see that the grass is bare! All you leave in your wake is misery! You are blind! I WILL MAKE YOU SEE!"

"What's he talking about?" Ranier asked

"He's giving them option of either converting to Qun or dying." Dorian answered. "Standard Qunari protocol."

"Not really a smart move, on his part." Iron Bull added. "His job was supposed to military matters only, but you can tell he's so pissed off right now, he doesn't give a shit."

The great hall's door burst open, walking in ready for battle, was none other than Garret Hawke, here at his greatest moment of glory.

"But it would seem we have guests." The Arishok announced as the one worthy bas in all of this forsaken cesspool interrupted his sermon

He was accompanied by all of his companions, including his sister, with the notable exception of the pirate, Isabela, the one who stole the Tome of Koslun.

"Shenadan, Hawke. I expected you." The Arishok was not surprised that the Hawke had made it through all of his soldiers to Viscount's Keep, he even hoped that would arrive here.

"Maras tol Abreshok. You alone are bas alit dan" The Qunari General addressed, confirming that Hawke was the only foreigner that deserved recognition. "This is what respect looks like BAS! Some of you will never earn it!"

"This outrage has gone far enough!" Hawke called angrily.

"Yes. It has." The Arishok agreed. "Because you are the only one in this whole city worthy of my respect, not just for your martial prowess, but for your clarity of vision and strength of character I offer you this opportunity only once; Join us."

"Excuse me?" This truly caught Hawke off guard.

"Your role and purpose would change very little if you submit to the Qun." The Arishok clarified. "If anything it will only strengthen you and only enrich the Qunari."

"No." Hawke answered firmly. "The Qun, and lack of identity might be suitable to others, but I'm content with being Garret Hawke."

"Unfortunate." The Arishok replied, respectfully. "You know I am denied Par Vollen unless the Tome of Koslun is found. How would you see this conflict resolve without it?"

As if to answer the angry oxman's question, a fellow Qunari was sent flying trough the doors and who should step through them but Isabela.

"I believe I can answer that." The Queen of the Eastern Seas replied while stepping on the very Qunari she throttled, and then handing the Arishok are very large and ornate book. "I believe you'll find mostly undamaged."

"The Tome of Koslun." The Arishok marveled at the sacred text before handing it to one of his soldiers.

"Sorry it took so long to get back, what with all the fighting going one." Isabela casually replied.

"Welcome back to the Marches armpit." Hawke answered. Truly he was happy that his Rivaini lover did the right thing.

"This is your damned influence, Hawke." Isabela swore with disappointment in her voice. "I should've ran off when I had the chance."

"The Relic is reclaimed." The Arishok announce. "I'm allowed to return to Par Vollne...with the thief."

"What!?" Hawke, Isabela, and Merrill cried out.

"Like hell you are." Aveline growled. "If anyone is going to kick her fat ass, it's going to be me."

"She stole the Tome of Koslun, she must return with us." The Arishok wasn't budging from this.

"No. You have your relic, she is MINE. You will not have her." Hawke's answer drew some gasps from them nobles and caused Isabela to start blushing, something unusual for her.

"Don't worry, Isabela." Merrill said, trying to comfort her friend. "Hawke is here, and the rest of us won't let him take you either."

"Then you leave me no choice." The Heathen Ox let out. "I challenge you, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death, with her as the prize."

"No! If your going to duel anyone duel me!" Isabela yelled. She wouldn't let anyone else die for her mistakes.

"You are not worthy." The Arishok pointed out. "I WILL take her, if you object, Hawke, then duty demands that we fight."

"You broke the Llommeryn Accord, destroyed my home, and now you have the gall to threaten a woman I love!?" Hawke patience with this foreign religion had finally reached it's breaking point. He would no longer suffer them. "You are not leaving this building alive, Arishok."

"Marevas! So shall it be!" The general declared.

All the nobles and Qunari cleared the center of the hall while these two warriors circled one another. The Arishok was armed with a large, forked sword in his right hand and a gruesome axe in his left, whereas Hawke was armed with his family shield, and his Keyblade. The Qunari watched their leader with calm indifference, while the Kirkwall residents looked on with anxiety, but none looked more nervous than Hawke's friends. Isabela was, perhaps, the most frightened. She deserved to be taken by the Qunari, for more reasons than any of them could know. And now Hawke was defending her from the consequences of her own actions. If Garret died because of her, she didn't think she could survive it. Merrill wrapped her arms around Isabela, trying her best to comfort her as they looked on as their lover was about to face one of the most dangerous fighters in all of Thedas.

"Oh, my!" Dorian exclaimed. "Two muscular men, fighting over the voluptuous pirate queen! Like something out of a smut novel."

"No kidding!" Sera agreed. "For a fine piece of arse like that, I'd fight all the Qunari and their mothers!"

"Qunari don't have mothers." Iron Bull corrected.

"Quiet!" Varric shushed. "We're about to see Hawke at his most badass!"

A vicious war cry erupted from the Arishok's maw, and he charged down his human opponent like an angry bull, a forked sword in one hand and grisly battle-axe in the other. Hawke was barely able to dodge the assault in time, and was rained down by a vicious storm of attacks from the Arishok's onslaught. Hawke stood his ground against the Qunari war leader. He would not back down, not here. He already ran from one horde that destroyed his home, he would not do that twice in one lifetime.

The battle between the Arishok and Hawke was vicious and without mercy. Both of them excellent warriors from two different races and cultures, with two different fighting styles. The Arishok embodied the natural and inherent rage that burned inside the Qunari race, and he discarded the discipline of the Qun to unleash every ounce of that fury and kill Hawke with his savage weapons and unrelenting assault. Hawke, on the other hand, maintained the discipline he learned in the Fereldan military, and even in such an intense battle, he kept a clear and level head, just like his father taught him. He was like a rock being beaten down by a storm, but no matter how intense it rained down on him, he stood firm. Hawke took the attacks as they came, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The Arishok's rage made him strong, most men would break under such fury, but Hawke was not like most men. And while his rage made the Arishok strong, it also made him blind to how he left himself open as he swung his weapons, and didn't realize how much energy he was wasting trying to penetrate Hawke's defense. Hawke, however, could see those openings and had no problem exploiting them, using his Keyblade's scythed end to inflict deep gashes in the massive oxman's body.

The Arishok ignored Hawke's well placed strikes, even as they tore through his flesh and ripped his muscles. He had spent his entire life in war, and received many scars and injuries before being elevated to the rank of Arishok. He dashed away from Hawke for only a moment to quaff a powerful healing draught to heal his wounds and replenish his stamina, then charged Hawke once again with his merciless onslaught.

Hawke held firm behind his shield, waiting for that perfect moment to break through the Arishok's attack. Using two weapons like this, even for someone as powerful as this Qunari, was fatiguing. Hawke parried both the Arishok's weapons with his shield and swung his sword up at his opponent's neck. The Arishock evaded Hawke's attack and countered by bringing both his weapons down on Hawke's sword, knocking it right out of his hands. The Arishok followed through with a backhanded swing with his sword, aiming to finish Hawke off by cutting off his head. With his death, the demands of the Qun shall be answered, and the thief will answer for her crimes.

Hawke stopped the Arishok's blade mere hairs away from his neck by blocking the qunari's arm with his shield. Hawke's opportunity had finally arrived. He grabbed the Arishock's wrist with his now free hand and smashed the Qunari's elbow against the face of his shield, simultaneously breaking his arm and unarming him. Keeping a firm grip on the Arishock's now disabled arm, Hawke smashed his boot straight into his opponent's kneecap, shattering it under the force of his heel.

The Arishok hollered in agony as his entire right side was completely crippled by his smaller opponent. His cries of pain were silenced when Hawke backhanded him with his shield then punched him in the face with his mailed fist, knocking half of the Arishok's teeth out. Time came to a halt in the Viscount's throne room as Hawke hammered his massive opponent. His shield and fist broke his opponent's body and smashed his face, but still he refused to fall, and Hawke refused to show mercy.

The Arishok tried to stand and fight, but it was hopeless. His right arm broken, right knee shattered, almost all his ribs broken, and his head being pounded so badly he was no longer able to see straight. But he refused to stop fighting, he would not dishonor himself or the Qun by quitting the fight. He swung his axe with all his might at Hawke, putting everything he had behind it to bring the human down.

Hawke deflected the Arishok's wild attack with his shield, and left the Arishok wide open. He quickly reached for the dagger he kept hidden in under his wrist and jammed it deep into the qunari's thick neck. Blood sprayed from the Arishok's throat and spewed from his mouth, and both Hawke and the Arishok knew the wound was mortal.

Garret stepped back as his enemy staggered backwards, trying to cover the fatal wound in his throat. The Arishok removed the blade from his jugular, blood flooding out in obscene quantities. The Qunari general fell onto the steps behind, coughing and choking on his own blood, this was the end for him.

"One day... we shall...return." The Arishok gurgled his last words and the light from his black eyes faded. And so ended one of the Three Pillars of the Qunari. Seeing their leader had fallen, and with no further concern for this city, the remaining Antaam left in military formation, taking the Tome of Koslun with them and leaving Isabella alone.

Hawke was more exhausted than he had been in a long time. Fighting someone like this had taken every ounce of strength and wind from him, his arms were throbbing under his armor and shield, but it was over. He had won. Both his city and one of the women he loved were safe. That's when the door finally burst open, and who should arrive but Meredith and her Templar forces. Typical Templars, always showing up after the fact and never where you actually need them.

"Is it...over?" Meredith asked, completely astonished. She had fought through many Qunari to get here, expecting dead bodies and a harsher fight. Instead she happened upon this Serah Hawke standing over the now dead Arishok.

"Serrah Hawke killed the Arishok!" A grateful nobleman called.

"He's a hero!" A female noble cried out.

"The City has been saved!" Another declared.

All the people, nobles, guards and even Templars began to rejoice, clamor, and celebrate as this horrible crisis had ended. All began clamoring towards Hawke, their savior to express their gratitude, commend his courage, some of the women even began to kiss him. The small crowd made way, however, as the Knight Commander Meredith approached him.

"Well, done." The Knight-Commander commended. "It would seem that Kirkwall has a new Champion."

Hawke was standing in the middle of everyone and he still couldn't believe it. Everyone here was declaring him their hero. He was both awed and humbled, but at the same time weary of what this could mean for him now. For the moment though, he basked in the glory that was lauded on him. Making his way through the crowd, not caring for the cheering and applause, he came face to face with Isabela. In front of them all, he brought the pirate queen's mouth to his own. Isabela embraced her champion tightly, wrapping on leg around Hawke's body not caring for the scandalized gasps and louder cheers. She was so happy and so relieved she felt like she was going to break down, sobbing. Never had anyone done so much for her, more than what she deserved. She drove her tongue to meet Garret's and later tonight she and Merrill were going to give him one helluva night.

"There! You see now?" Varric hollered. "I didn't exaggerate at all!"

"That was so incredible!" Dorian applauded. "Everyone I know back in Tevinter will be positively envious."

"Now that is how a real Champion earns his title." Ranier complemented.

"Man, that guy was a badass!" Iron Bull laughed.

"It would seem the Champion's reputation is not merely an overstatement." Vivienne acknowledged.

"This was his home, she was his girl. He would not let the Arishok harm either." Cole said with a small smile on his face. "That's how I want Maryden to feel when I'm with her."

"Watching him beat the snot out of a shitty-arsed horn-head was loads better than watching that areshole Hero eat another guy's innards." Sera said approvingly, though she stuck her tongue out in disgust for that memory.

"The Pirate Queen bagged herself quite the prize with this one. In more was than one. Ga-row!" Zevran chuckled.

"That was so romantic." Cassandra sighed dreamily. Seeing how this happened was so much better than listening to Varric describe it. She allowed herself one moment to appreciate the fact that Hawke was willing to put his life on the line and face the Arishok in single combat, all to keep Isabella safe. How couldn't she enjoy such a lovely tale?

~XoXoXo~

The crowd of people began to dissipate and change. Cassandra and the others found themselves still standing in the Viscount's Keep, but now all the people here looked like they had come for a celebration. Everyone here, a whole mob of people crowding the hall up to the steps, was dressed in they're finest outfits. Long tables of wine, skewered pig, beef, and the infamous pies of the Marches laid spread across the front of the walls. No expense was considered too great for this momentous of days. Many seemed anxious for the party to get started. At the the foot of the Viscount's throne was Grand Cleric Elthina with First Enchanter Orsino and Knight Commander Meredith, and neither mage nor Templar seemed ready to tear each other's throat out. Standing before all three of them was Garret Hawke, dressed in fine yet humble clothes with colors of House Amell emblazoned on them.

"Oh-ho? What's this now?" Dorian asked.

"This was Hawke's coronation as the Champion of Kirkwall." Varric explained. "Look, there's me and my friends."

All of them looked toward the top of the steps, next to throne, Hawke's friends held a place of honor at this occasion. They all dressed in their finest for this occasion, with only Isabela absent. Bethany was here as well, with other mages from the Gallows, and she looked upon her big brother with pride. His Uncle, Gamlen was also here, trying his damnest not to weep in joy. Even Bodhan and his son, Sandal, couldn't miss this. Hawke's dwarven manservant almost looked like he wanted to cry, whereas, Sandal just kept clapping for Garret.

"Damn! Seeing all this food and liquor makes me wish we were at a party of our own!" Sera complained.

Garret was now standing before the three most important figures in Kirkwall, his only peers. Grand Cleric Elthina, the spiritual leader of the city, Knight Commander Meredith, whom led the city's Templars with an iron fist and First Enchanter Orsino, the youngest member of the College of Mages and the most vocal critic of the Templar's policies. They were now joined by the Champion of Kirkwall, the city's foremost protector.

This was by far the proudest moment in Hawke's life, his only regret was his mother wasn't here. Nor was Isabela. Isabela was wracked with so much guilt over everything she had caused and left as soon as she could, despite Garret forgiving her, somehow that made it worse.

"Garret Hawke..." The Grand Cleric announced. "What you have done for this city is more than just courageous; your selfless valor and unbreakable determination saw us through this horrible ordeal. To be named Champion isn't something that is given, it is earned through recognition of one's deeds and leadership through great crisis. I am very proud to name Kirkwall's first Champion."

A roaring applause echoed through the palace as Hawke knelt before the Grand Cleric as she bestowed upon his brow a laurel of sage leaves.

"As is the tradition of the Free Marches..." Elthina continued. "We now present you with the arms and armor fit for a warrior of your station." One of the mages unveiled a suit of black armor with many sharp points of Free Marchers design, with a red sash embroidered with twin eagles in flight draped across the chest. The weapon they presented was a greatsword made from highest black steel with a bejeweled hilt and pommel. Despite the weapon's beauty, it was indeed a weapon of war. These were the highest quality arms and armor Hawke had ever seen, and he couldn't wait to have Sandal place his enchantments on them.

"Garret Hawke, would you allow me the honor?" Elthina beseeched, holding a laurel wreath of sage leave before.

Hawke humbly knelt before the Grand-Cleric and allowed her to place the laurel upon his head.

"This crown of sage leaves represent that victory, however great, is fleeting. However, the sword and armor represent that glory is eternal." The old priestess stepped towards Hawke and the both faced the crowd. "Citizens of Kirkwall, I present to you...your Champion." And throughout the Viscount's Keep to be heard all the way down to the docks, was a thunderous cheer, the likes of which had never been heard in this Age as a new hero had been crowned.

Hawke took a moment to marvel at his new weapon and armor. Never before had he owned such high quality equipment. It was time for him to go back and mingle. Bodahn took the new bear back to Hawke's estate, Sandal couldn't wait to give new and powerful enchantments to Hawke's new toys, and who was he to deny him? It felt strange to Hawke, being the center of all this attention; not five minutes after his coronation nobles began offering their daughters to him and begging the Champion to attend their special ceremonies.

The first thing he did was make his way over to his sister, they hadn't seen each other since before their mother died, it was time to reunite in happiness. Bethany was speaking to the First Enchanter when walked up to her.

"Oh, Garret." Bethany said as she embraced her brother. "If only mother were, she'd be so proud of you. I know I am."

"I wasn't really trying to be a hero, Bethany." Garret explained, almost bashfully. "I was just trying to do the right thing."

"I know, big brother. Sometimes that's just all it takes to become something much greater than we'd hope to become." Bethany replied.

Hawke's time with his sister was cut short when many of the Kirkwall elite practically bull-rushed him and began fawning over him like he was a statue of solid gold. When Hawke finally managed to pry himself from his smothering admirers he was met with an all to familiar giggle.

"It would seem he you more attention than you can handle, Ma Vhenan." Merrill laughed mischievously. Garret to took a moment to marvel his Dalish lover and the outfit she had worn to this occasion. Unlike the other gathered ladies who wore Orlesian dresses that made their lower halves look larger than they actually were, Merrill wore a traditional Dalish garment made for special occasions. It was a flowing white dress that accented her slim, graceful figure, and showed off her beautiful legs, which of course, had no shoes on.

Music had begun to play, and Hawke finally saw his opportunity. He took Merrill by the hand and led her to the dance floor where the two of them began dancing slowly to the music with each other. They didn't care about all the eyes staring at them, or all the potential marriage arrangements he was throwing away by dancing with a heathen elf, all that mattered was the time Hawke and Merrill were having together. The only thing that could make this better was if Isabella was there to join them, and that would really cause a scandal. A scandal truly started and all the gathered nobles were left in a state of shock at the end of the music when Hawke kissed Merrill deeply, and made it no secret that the two of them were very fond of using their tongues.

"Whoo! You go, Daisy!" Varric laughed loudly encouragingly at the memory.

"Yeah, yeah, just a little more. Put more tongue into it." Iron Bull said lecherously.

"Hmm. Looks like the Champion of Kirkwall is more daring than I previously thought." Zevran chuckled.

"Nya-ha! Bet all those prissy nobs weren't expecting that!" Sera laughed.

"Such a display is so scandalous, especially in the Free Marches." Vivienne observed.

"You should see what's considered a scandal in Tevinter. This little display of oral affection wouldn't even be in the top ten." Dorian laughed.

"After what the Champion did to get that title, I'd say he more than earned it." Ranier confirmed.

"He loves her, she is his woman, just like Isabella is, like they both will always be. He doesn't care about what others think, only what he feels for them." Cole said empathically.

As Hawke and Merrill made their way from the dance floor, leaving everyone in a state of utter disbelief, Hawke heard the unexpected sound of someone applauding him. Hawke didn't know if the man was being genuine or was mocking him. He was an older man, he and Hawke's father would have been around the same age, with a thick, well kept, pronged beard. The man was wearing the dress uniform of an Orlesian military officer and the long-feathered hat of the Chevalier Order. Judging by the medals he had pinned to his chest, Hawke could tell this man was a highly ranked commander, and a skilled warrior.

"A magnificent display, Serrah Hawke! Not even Champion for five minutes, and you've already caused a scandal amongst the nobles. A marvelous feat, indeed." The man laughed with genuine respect. "Though, if Leandra were here, I imagine she would have scolded you for doing such a thing in public."

"You knew my mother, Ser?" Hawke asked curiously.

"Oh, how rude of me. Here I am talking about breaches in propriety and I haven't even introduced myself." The man said with a hint of embarrassment. He put down his cup of wine, took off his Chevalier hat with a deep introductory bow. "Duke Prosper de Montfort, Lord of Chateau Haine, and Chevalier to Her Grace, Empress Celene I Valmont of Orlais. At your humble service."

Hawke returned the Duke's gesture and gave a polite bow in return to him. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Duke Proper. How did you know my mother?"

"Ah, my dear wife, Amelie, she and Leandra were close friends when they were young, and I had the pleasure of meeting her when I first visited Kirkwall. May Andraste rest them both." Duke Prosper said with deepest respects. "Mon dieu, but I didn't come to talk about sad things, but to celebrate your achievement. Your mother would no doubt be proud of you."

"Everything I am, my parents taught me to be." Hawke confirmed proudly.

The Orlesian duke reached into his breast coat and handed Hawke an old, rather worn out copper coin. As far as Hawke could tell, it wasn't any kind of legal tender, yet the Duke handed it to him like it was more valuable than a sovereign.

"Please, take this Caprice Coin. It's an old tradition in Orlais." Duke Prosper bade. "I must confess, I am here to do more than simply enjoy the wine and congratulate you. I will hosting my House's annual Wyvern Hunt in the coming days at my estate in Chateau Haine, and I would be honored to have you join us."

This wasn't the first invitation Hawke had received from a noble this evening. In fact, it was the twenty-fifth he had received. Being raised a farmer, Hawke wasn't one for grand parties or hunts with the aristocracy, especially when he was more concerned about Kirkwall's welfare. But seeing as this man knew his mother, Hawke wasn't that disinclined to say no.

"I will...give your generous invitation great consideration." Hawke said honestly. "I still must attend to matters here in Kirkwall. The burdens of bearing a title, I'm afraid."

"Ha. I understand all too well, Champion. Do enjoy the celebration, I don't doubt you've earned it." Prosper encouraged and resumed enjoying his wine.

~XoXoXo~

The memory shifted from Hawke's coronation as Champion to an entirely different scene in his life. The environment was drastically different from the Viscount's Keep, and they certainly weren't in Kirkwall anymore. Hawke was sitting in a stone cell with reinforced steel bars he had no hope of even bending, and wasn't alone in there. Sitting on the opposite side of the cell was an elf almost none of the knew. She was a pretty thing with a fair complexion, a lovely face, a figure most women would murder for, and it was all topped off with a beautiful mane of flaming red hair held in a ponytail.

Both the Champion and the elf were wearing finery that one might wear at some kind of gala or party, but they were now tattered after some kind of scuffle. Both of them remained seated on opposite sides of the cell. The elf sat there looking guilty, while Hawke looked incredibly pissed off.

"Oh, shit. I knew this one was coming the instant we saw Duke Prosper." Varric groaned, slapping his hand on his forehead.

"What's going on here?" Dorian asked. "First we're seeing Hawke being crowned Champion, now here he is in some kind of dungeon."

"Yeah, what gives?" Sera added.

"The lovely redheaded vixen you guys see Hawke giving the stink-eye, ladies and gentlemen, is Tallis." Varric introduced. "Though, I liked to call her 'Shivs'."

Cassandra recalled the name and the person attached to it. On orders from Divine Justinia, she was tasked to find out about this elf, and what she and Hawke did that angered Orlais. Varric's tale about this adventure it seems was accurate. "This was the Qunari spy that deceived Hawke into infiltrating Chateau Haine, isn't she?"

"Yep." Varric nodded.

"What? You mean to say that dainty thing is a qunari agent?" Ranier asked incredulously.

"Agent, spy, assassin. Those who are given the title of Tallis by the Ben-Hessrath are meant to solve problems covertly." Iron Bull informed. "Though, I'm guessing if the Champion knows that, she hasn't done a very good job."

"You mean you don't know what she did, Bull?" Cassandra inquired.

"Not too many agents know who each other are or what their assignment is. Less chances of discovery that way." Iron Bull answered.

"Well, what did this qun-elf do to make Mr. Outstand-Citizen here so mad?" Sera asked.

"Tricked him into breaking into the fortress of one Orlais' most powerful nobles to steal a priceless gem, when really she was a Qunari spy who was just using Hawke as a cover to hide her mission, which, apparently was unsanctioned by the Qun." Varric explained nonchalantly. "They got caught, and thrown into a dungeon. Trust me, Duke Prosper wasn't the only one pissed off about the night's events."

"Why would the Champion do something so foolish?" Vivienne asked, unable to understand how Hawke could have put himself in these circumstances.

"T&A, Lady Vivienne. Tits and Ass." Varric answered almost jokingly. "Hawke is an absolute sucker for beautiful women, especially if they swat a squad of Antivan Crows like flies. She gave him they typical 'elf wants to take back from an Orlesian lord' story, and Hawke was too busy admiring her perfectly shaped ass to think beyond that."

That answer left many of them stunned silent. It was so unbelievable, yet somehow made perfect sense. Sometimes, people do illogical things for illogical reasons. All people have their flaws, and the flaws of heroes were often deep. For Aedan Cousland, it was his limitless anger. In Hawke's case, it was women, who are sometimes more dangerous than any other vice.

"If her plan wasn't to steal some priceless gem from an Orlesian lord, then what was her true mission?" Dorian asked curiously.

"Apparently, her former tutor, the guy who brought Tallis into the Ben-Hessrath defected, and he was going to sell secret information to Orlais as a final act of defiance. Tallis wanted to stop him so that there wouldn't be any unnecessary deaths. And Hawke was her only way into getting close enough to Prosper to stop him." Varric explained. "As you can imagine, Hawke was really not happy about being played for a sap, especially when he found out he was being used to help the Qunari."

"Of all the people in all of Thedas, why me!? Why did you need to involve me in this half-assed scheme of yours!?" The memory of Hawke demanded of the elven qunari. "Was it all because Prosper invited me?"

"So, everything you told me was an utter lie?" The memory of Hawke demanded lividly of the qunari spy.

"Not everything." Tallis answered, trying to sound convincing.

"So, I was just stupid enough to miss the part where your one of the invaders that tried destroying my home?" Hawke said angrily. "And you thought it was a good idea to recruit the man who killed the Arishok?"

"You don't need horns to embrace the Qun. What you need is a sense of purpose. A belief in unity. In improving the lot of not only for your own people, but for everyone." Tallis tried explaining.

"Oh. So when the Arishok set Kirkwall on fire, chopped off the Viscount's head, and gave everyone in the city the option of converting or dying, that was the Qun trying to improve our lives." Hawke admonished sarcastically. "Well, when you put it like that, I actually feel bad about burying my knife in his neck."

"I wish I could say your anger is unjustified, but I'd be lying." Tallis admitted. "That doesn't mean it's the solution for everyone."

"Really? So, you only wage war and destroy people's homes and strip them of their freedom only if they don't roll over for you and let you dictate every movement of their life under threat of death?" Hawke rebuked.

"Being Qunari doesn't automatically mean a zealot." Tallis argued back sternly. "Most Qunari don't even understand humans, why you act the way you do. But I grew up among you, I understand perfectly well."

Tallis held her tongue and braced herself when Hawke's patience finally reached its end, and was about to meet the back of his hand in an outburst of anger. However, Hawke stopped himself before he could strike her. As angry and insulted as he was, Hawke could never bring himself to strike an unarmed woman.

"That was your last warning, Tallis." Hawke cautioned angrily. "You grew up in the North, with the Imperium and the Qun, where freedom means almost nothing. I am a Fereldan! And freedom is our born right! A right that every Qunari would see us stripped of to achieve their perfect world!"

Tallis sighed deeply and full of frustration. She had to remember that she was the one who did him wrong, not the other way around. "I know it's not easy to understand. And after what the Arishok did, I hardly blame you. Our ways must seem so alien to you."

"Alien, oppressive, tyrannical, ignorant, pretty much the antithesis against everything I hold sacred." Hawke listed dismissively.

"That's the only way you see it because it's the only part of the Qun you let yourself see." Tallis insisted. "Tell me this: can you honestly say there's nothing to improve in human society, nothing to strive for? We believe in striving together. We may stumble, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"And those who don't want to struggle with you, or just want to follow their own path, for good or ill, are stripped of their minds and turned into hollowed out laborers, and Maker save you if you have the misfortune to be born a mage." Hawke rebutted, unconvinced and without sympathy.

~XoXoXo~

The memory quickly shifted away from Hawke and Tallis' argument in the Duke's cell. They watched the images flash by them and witnessed Hawke's escape from Prosper's dungeon, reunited with all his companions, then his encounter with the Duke, followed by a battle with that Chasind bodyguard the Duke had. Now they were battling a large group of ghasts in the underground caverns beneath Chateau Haine. After what they had just been through, they were in no mood to be harassed by those little goblin freaks. So, they slaughtered the little horde of ghasts like the rodents they were and sent them scurrying back into their holes.

With the ghasts taken care of, Hawke, his companions, and Tallis, found themselves standing before two different exits inside the caverns. Now the question was, which one do they take.

"And there's the way out." Tallis pointed to the path on the left. "See? I told you I had a plan. The kind that has an escape route and everything."

Hawke looked down that path, and was more than willing to take it, and leave this Maker-forsaken mess behind him. "It would be the only thing you've gotten right so far, Tallis."

"So, you could go. There are, however...other options." Tallis pleaded.

Hawke shook his head in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I know you think I lied to you. Well, I did lie to you, but I'm hoping you can look past that." Tallis admitted. "What Salit is going to do will harm so many people. My people, as well as yours. It's my duty to stop him, but I can't do it alone. Not anymore"

"Tell me truthfully, what is so terrible about Salit's plan?" Hawke questioned.

'I...can't. Not completely. And yes, I know that's a hard sell." Tallis answered evasively. "The information Salit plans to turn over to Orlais won't just hurt Qunari, but anyone living in Qunari lands. Even those who have fled the Qun, of any race, will be condemned to persecution forever."

"How does this affect me and my people?" Hawke demanded. his patience wearing thin. "After what the Arishok did, what he would have done to Kirkwall, why should I care about what happens to these people?"

"Because they're people!" Tallis answered deliberately. "Not every Qunari is a soldier, you know? There are tens of thousands of farmers, craftsmen, artisans. People who have never harmed anyone. People whose only crime is existing."

"Don't believe a word she says, Hawke. She's only telling you things you want to hear so you'll help her." Fenris interrupted with that scowl of his. "Did she tell you that the Ben-Hessrath remind the people of the Qun who they are? It's all a lie. The Ben-Hessrath are spies, they watch for any form of sedition or rebellion, and if anyone doesn't follow their path within the Qun, they are sent be re-educated, or worse."

"You're only looking at us as only an outsider can see, Fenris." Tallis argued. "The Ben-Hessrath keeps the Qunari people safe, to try and prevent what Salit is doing from harming our people. I joined the Ben-Hessrath to protect that peace that many people live in. I've struggled to find it myself. I know it's there, I just...keep falling short." Tallis looked at Hawke with an earnest look on her face, wanting to know his answers. "What about you? Have you ever been a part of something bigger than just yourself?"

"Every day of my life." Hawke answered staunchly. "My family, my friends. And I protect Kirkwall from those who do it, and my friends and family, harm. As far as I'm concerned, there is no greater calling than that."

"Admirable, but not the same." Tallis replied honestly. "The Qunari have a vision of what life should be like. Free of pain and fear and doubt. You see tyranny and I see caring, and interest in the welfare of all. Yes, it could be better, but so can human intolerance and cruelty. Or do you disagree?"

"Peace cannot be created with swords, and neither can friendship be built upon deception. And both you and your Qun have inflicted both injuries on me." Hawke rebuked. "After everything you put me through, the danger you placed us all in, what makes you think I would ever even consider helping you?"

Tallis sighed deeply, trying so hard to convince him that she was only doing the right thing. "I think you're an amazing person, Hawke. I wish I'd have done this right, showed you the respect you deserve. If I had it my way, you'd never have been this involved in the first place. I need your help, and the only thing I can do now is ask for it, like I should have at the beginning. I just hope you understand what's at stake here."

Tallis stepped away from Hawke and stood in front of the path she intended to take, and waited for Hawke's answer, hoping that he would help her in her hour of need.

Hawke took a moment to weigh the options before him. If he took the path on the left, he could leave this mess behind him, and pray that it wouldn't come back to haunt him. The severity of the scandal alone would probably prevent Duke Prosper from seeking retribution against him. However, if he took the path on the right, Hawke would help a desperate woman save countless innocent lives, and for years now that has been the core of who he was. After a moment of contemplation, Hawke made his decision. He took the path on the left.

"Hawke? Please!" Tallis pleaded desperately

"That's uncharacteristically cold of you, Hawke." The memory of Varric pointed out.

"We're not truly going to let her do this by herself, are we? Ma vhenan?" Merrill asked.

"No, Tallis. You don't deserve my help." Hawke answered sternly. "You expect me to lay down my life, and the lives of my comrades, yet you won't even tell us why we should do this. From the very beginning, everything you told me was a lie, and like a complete moron, I believed you. For all I know, you're still lying, and I won't make a fool of myself twice. People say I'm a great detective, yet I let myself be so utterly deceived. Tell me this: when you dragged me into this, did you ever think about the people of Kirkwall?"

Tallis was silent. She couldn't give an answer, she didn't have one.

"No?" Hawke asked rhetorically. "You didn't stop to consider how many people I would be putting at risk by provoking Prosper's anger, maybe even give Orlais cause to go to war? Now, you have the gall to talk to me about how many innocent lives are at risk, when you didn't care about the lives you were endangering!? Oh, that's right, it didn't matter to you, because Kirkwall is just a city full of non-Qunari and mages, and I'm just a stupid baas to be used like a tool. No, I will not endanger the city I've sworn to protect to help the people who would destroy my home, and stand against everything I believe in. You don't deserve me help, Tallis."

With that final remark, Hawke and his comrades walked down the left tunnel, leaving an emotionally hurt Tallis to complete her mission on her own.

~XoXoXo~

The memory projected forward once again. What they now witnessed was perhaps the most epic setting any of them had ever seen in Hawke's memory. They were standing amongst ancient ruins on a high cliff above Chateau Haine. The Champion's comrades were fighting against a both Chevaliers and Tal-Vashoth mercenaries, Tallis was fighting with them. Hawke stood alone, his back to the cliff, his Celebrant raised high, staring down Duke Prosper as rode atop a massive bull wyvern, the largest any of them had ever seen. A creature like that could have hunted giants if it wanted.

Prosper fired a strange, green-glowing substance at Hawke with his custom-made crossbow, splattering the projectile on Hawke's breastplate, marking him as the gargantuan wyvern's target. Prosper tightly held the reigns of his reptilian mount as the massive draconid charged down Hawke, with every intention of devouring him. In the face of the monstrous wyvern and its master, Hawke fearlessly stood his ground. The Duke and his beast stormed down on the Champion with the force of a stampede, while Hawke waited for the exact moment of truth.

At the very last second, Hawke deftly dodged the giant wyvern's charge attack by mere hairs, and used his Celebrant to cut the wyvern's front legs out from under it. The force of the beast's momentum sent both the wyven and its master hurdling over the cliff behind Hawke. However, Prosper managed to grab hold of the cliff's edge by his fingertips, and cursed at the Champion with promises of Orlais' vengeance and slow, painful death for them all.

Hawke rushed to cliff's edge and begged Prosper to let him help, but Prosper was a proud Chevalier, and would never accept the aid of an enemy. Prosper stabbed at the hand that reached out for him with a dagger, and in so doing, lost his precarious grip on the cliff, and fell to his death on the rocks below. And thus ended the legendary Duke Prosper de Montfort.

Hawke stood next to the ledge were Prosper died, while Tallis stood over Salit's body, and both of them said their respective prayers for these great, flawed men. Garret held no grudge against Prosper, for he was only doing his duty to his country, an commitment Hawke not only understood but admired. Tallis wanted to save Salit from himself, to stop him from making a terrible mistake that would not only cost many innocent people their lives, but would also cost him his soul. She failed to save Salit, but at least she saved those he threatened.

"Tallis." Hawke called demandingly with anger in his eyes, his comrades behind me. "That list Salit was going to sell to the Duke, who names are those? After all this bullshit, I demand to know why that list was worth possibly ruining my life over."

The anger coming from the Champion was almost tangible, and Tallis could see there was no way out of this. And the Champion was right, he at least deserved to know what she risked his life over. "It...it's a list of agents posted throughout Thedas. Qunari like myself. Many of them have children, families, friends. They're people you wouldn't suspect. Some have even left the Qun altogether. If this list fell into human hands, they, and everyone they know, would be killed. The Ariqun believes they knew the risks, but what about the innocents? I, I couldn't let this happen."

Hawke stood there in silence for a moment, then extended his hand out to Tallis like he wanted something. "The list, Tallis. Give it me."

"What?! You can't be serious!" Tallis said outraged. "After everything I said about how dangerous this list is, the amount of lives at stake, you expect me to just hand it over to you just because you have a grudge?"

"Don't insult me Tallis!" Hawke returned angrily. "This isn't about grudges or theological differences. My duty is to protect Kirkwall, and I still love my homeland. I can't ignore the risk those agents pose to the rest of Thedas."

"If you truly believe in protecting the innocent, Hawke, then believe what I'm telling you: no one should have this list." Tallis argued. "It doesn't distinguish innocent from guilty. It doesn't show the friends, lovers, children who have nothing to do with the Qun."

"I'm not the bad guy in this story, Tallis, and neither was Prosper. You are!" Hawke returner, his anger rising. "Prosper was only fulfilling his duty to his country. You lied to me from the beginning, made me an accessory to your crimes without any thought to the consequences of your actions, and now all of Kirkwall is at risk of Orlais' anger. The Qunari are a threat to Thedas, and if these agents are aiding in that threat, then it's my duty to stop them. I've seen what the Qunari are willing to do to spread the Qun, and I will do what it takes to make sure that never happens to anyone else. Maybe I can spare Kirkwall from the Orlesian Empire by giving this list to the Empress."

"I am sorry, Hawke. I wish could take back what I put you through, but I can't." Tallis said sorrowfully. "But I can't let you have this list. There is just too much at stake."

Hawke raised his sword and held it firmly against the Qunari agent. "Tallis, this isn't a negotiation. If you won't give it to me, I have no problem taking it from you."

"I'm sorry, Hawke, but I can't let that happen. I wish things could've gotten better, I really do. I hope you can understand that." Tallis said with guilt in her voice. She reached into her satchel and grabbed a grenade. She threw it to the ground at her feet, and disappeared into a cloud of smoke that erupted around her. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of Tallis was a massive red jewel in a golden setting that looked like it was worth a fortune.

"Ooh. At least she left something shiny." Isabella said, willing to take this as a consolation prize.

Hawke didn't share his Rivaini lover's enthusiasm for the shiny bauble. It's worth couldn't cover the feelings of failure and self-disgust he felt right now. He grabbed the jewel and threw it over the cliff in piqued anger, and yelled in rage over the treetops. "Tallis! I know you can hear me! You've made an enemy out of me today! Pray your stupidity never crosses my path again. The next time we meet, I will kill you!"

~XoXoXo~

"And that's how the caper at Chateau Haine ended." Varric finally spoke out. "With Prosper's death, and Hawke leaving that place empty-handed and with a grudge."

"I thought the Champion was supposed to be all about protectin' all people, the innocent ones, anyways. Why did he want to do the same thing that Duke prick wanted?" Sera asked, deeply disappointed.

"Trust me, if you'd seen the Qunari set your home on fire, learned the things they do to their captives, the things they wanted to do to Rivaini, you might understand, Buttercup." Varric assured. "He wanted to make sure that never happened anywhere else, and he knew those agents could make it happen."

"This memory still causes him feelings of anger. Anger at Tallis, but angrier at himself." Cole spoke, interpreting the feelings this memory had for Hawke. "Many call me a great detective, yet I couldn't see what was right before. Like an idiot, I let myself be distracted by her pretty smile and sad story. I must be the greatest fool in the Free Marches to have fallen for such a trick, and now, Kirkwall may suffer for it."

"Duke Prosper de Montfort was a powerful man, and a magnificent player of the Game. He was one of the few people that Empress Celene would listen to. Hawke had every reason to fear the repercussions of provoking him." Vivienne stated factually.

"I understand the Champion's reasoning for not wanting to help Tallis. More so than most." Ranier said from personal experience. "After all, who wants to help the person who landed them in a world of shit?"

"Bull, you were Ben-Hessrath, an undercover agent as I recall, what can you tell us about these other agents that Tallis wanted to protect?" Cassandra asked concernedly.

"Eh, really couldn't tell you, Seeker. Most undercover agents don't really know who each other are, less chances of discovery that way." Iron Bull answered. "But I can tell you this: both the Champ and Tallis' fears were real. Sometimes, agents who go undercover for too long end up leaving the Qun. After living without the restrictions of the Qun, some decide they prefer that life. Just like what happened with me. Then there are those who are truly loyal to the Qun, and they'll gladly turn on that life, even the friends and loved ones they made, within a heartbeat. To them, it's all just a ruse to play."

"A danger those in the Imperium have to live with every day." Dorian informed. "Most men of power and authority are mages, and surround themselves with other mages, because they know the Qunari will never train anyone with magic to become an agent."

"Given what's happened to the Inquisitor's daughter, I'd say Hawke's fears are well justified." Zevran said disdainfully. "It takes a special kind of bastard to harm a child, and this is coming from a professional assassin."

~XoXoXo~

Hawke's memories journeyed back to Kirkwall. Hawke was standing the Chantry with Grand Cleric Elthina, and it looked as though the two of them were in a heated debate. The Champion was desperately trying to get his point across, while Elthina clung to her pious stubbornness and refused to hear his words.

"Elthina. the time for passive neutrality is over. It's time to make a decision and choose a side." Hawke argued sternly.

"And which sides are you referring to, Champion?" Elthina asked calmly.

"Don't play ignorant, Elthina, not on this. The mages and the Templars." Hawke stated. "This city is tearing itself apart over their struggle with one another, it's time to make a choice."

"And you would have me side with the mage's I take it, Champion." Elthina guessed correctly with an eyebrow raised. "It's common knowledge that you count apostates and bloodmages amongst your friends. You have done much to fan the flames of rebellion in this city."

"You're damned right I would have you side with the mages, and a righteous soul should." Hawke confessed sternly. "My father was an apostate and a righteous man. My sister is in the Gallows, and I will not stand to see her suffer under Meredith's authority."

Elthina shook her head, and clasped her hands together as though she were saying an emotional prayer. "I feel for the mages, I truly do, We are all children of the Maker and I would not want to be locked away in the Gallows, but Andraste's teachings are clear. Magic allows abuses beyond the scope of mere mortals. If they lose control, then innocents suffer. I can only hope and pray for the balance everyone needs, that Orsino and Meredith can set aside their differences. For if it comes to war, then it's the innocent who suffer."

"You mean like how the innocent are suffering right now under Meredith's tyranny?" Hawke demanded blatantly. "Every day, Meredith and her Templars trample on the rights of this city's people. The curfews, breaking into people's houses to search for harbored mages, arresting people to see if their not apostates in hiding. Meredith still refuses to let the people of this city elect a new leader, and demands they surrender to her authority. And let's not forget her liberal and unlawful use of the Rite of Tranquility on the Circle's mages. How can you just sit by and let her insanity destroy this city?"

"I cannot turn on my Templars, on the very words of Andraste, for fear. No matter how justified that fear may be." Elthina answered, her voice filled with regret, but not shame. "The Templars are a part of the Chantry, and we can no more turn our backs on them than we can cut off our own hands."

Hawke stared blankly at Elthina, his face full of shock. He couldn't believe his own ears. "You are such a hypocrite, you and the entire Chantry! The Divine sent Sister Nightingale here not to help stop this insanity, but to see if Kirkwall's mages should be put to the torch. You say you feel for the mages, but allow them to be imprisoned and abused. You speak of protecting the innocent, yet you allow a tyrant like Meredith to roam free. I didn't want to believe what Aedan Cousland said about you, but he was right: you truly are the worst threat to Kirkwall. If you won't do anything for this city, then I will."

Elthina sighed sadly, and looked at Hawke pleadingly. "You disapprove of me, Champion, I know, but I beg you, don't do anything rash. What you do may cause unintended harm to the people you want to help..."

"Don't you dare speak to me about putting people at risk, Elthina!" Hawke interrupted austerely. "I warned you that someone within your own Chantry was funding zealots against the Qunari, and you did nothing. Seamus Dumar was murdered in this very temple, then a Qunari assassin killed Petrice, and you didn't even bat an eyelash. How many people died when the Arishok sacked this city because you did nothing. How many are suffering now?! If being loyal to the Chantry means doing nothing while people like my sister are suffering, and creates lunatics like Meredith and Petrice, I want nothing to do with it. From now on, I wash my hands of your corrupt Chantry."

"Champion..." Elthina beseeched, knowing it was in vain. "Please. Let cooler heads prevail, and I assure you, the Maker will guide us out of this crisis."

Hawke gave an exasperated sigh. There she goes again, acting as if praying and waiting is the Maker's will. "No, Grand Cleric. That is your greatest sin, not mine. When I go to face the Maker's judgment, I will go to Him knowing I did everything I could to help as many as I could. Can you truly say the same?"

"Hawke, what you're asking..."

"Answer me, damn it!" Hawke yelled so loud it echoed through the Chantry.

"All I can do, Champion, is hope and pray for peace and try to urge others to do the same." Elthina knew this wasn't the answer he wanted, she remembered that he was a warrior and thus saw things differently .

"That's what I thought." The Champion responded disappointed, but unsurprised. He turned his back on the Granc Cleric and left the Chantry he had now forsaken. "When you go to meet the Maker, you tell Him that while abuse and murder was done in His and His bride's name, you did nothing. I, for one, can't have that on my conscience."

~XoXoXo~

"Yeah, forget Aedan Cousland's hatred for the Chantry. He only hates it because they offend his sense of decency, such as it is." Varric commented insightfully. "Unlike him, Hawke has every legitimate reason to hate the Chantry and its Templars, for what they did to his family and this city. He has every right to bare them a grudge."

~XoXoXo~

Everyone was pulled forward through the timespan to the next memory in Hawke's life. They were in the Kirkwall, on the steps that lead from Lowtown to Hightown, and Hawke and his friends had just arrived to see another heated debate between Orsino and Meredith. Once again Hawke had to play the mediator. Templars and mages were both present with the respective leaders, among the mages the numbers was Hawke's sister, Bethany.

"What's this now?" Ranier asked.

"The shitstorm that started it all." Varric sighed. "The sum-up is, Meredith, once again, pulled to hard on the leash she strangling the mages with; she believed Orsino was hiding blood mages in the Gallows and wanted it searched and probably razed. Orsino had enough and was going to bring the case to Grand Cleric Elthina to settle it, and of Meredith refused to let him do that."

They all knew were this memory was going to lead up to, but had to watch it anyway, the Mage Templar War was sparked here and they were going to see it how the Champion saw it.

"Do you think if the Grand Cleric stepped in, it could've been avoided?" Cassandra asked sadly.

"Honestly, Seeker? No." Varric answered. "She made it quiet clear she wasn't going to step in at anytime. Personally, I don't think it would've mattered; the nobles, the citizens, mages and even Templars got sick of Meredith's bullshit. Either way, she was going to start something bad, people were going to die, and everyone had to pick a side."

"Sweet Andraste on her pyre. Look!" Dorian gasped, pointing to the scene before them.

And then he stepped forward, interrupting the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter's vicious argument. After years of being ignored and cast aside, he would make his voice heard. Anders, the rebel apostate that started all of this. Dressed in a black cloak of feather, he began to angrily berate the Knight Commander for her abuses and the First Enchanter for his ineffectiveness. The Companions witnessed the Spirit of Justice take over Anders and Hawke looked genuinely frightened.

"Anders!" Hawke grabbed his friend by the arms, knowing he did something terrible. Hawke knew Anders was up to something, but felt that the healer had come to his senses. "What have you done?"

"There can be no turning back." Anders stated and, sadly, looking up towards Hightown, where the Chantry stood.

And then a sound of thunder and fire erupted from Hightown, it was so loud, surely all the neighboring cities must've heard it. Everyone present, Hawke and his friends, Meredith and her Templars, Orisino and his mages, looked on in horror as a great red eruption arose from the Kirkwall Chantry, rising like a sword towards the skies. How many died within the Chantry, how many more from being just outside of it? Debris and bodies swirled around in small tornado, at the crimson fissure's peak and then exploded destroying half of Hightown! Detritus fell from the sky, like flaming hail, raining down upon Lowtown, like the wrath of the Maker. All there stood for a moment in shock, but the screaming could be heard from everywhere.

"Oh, Sweet Andraste." Bethany whispered in absolute horror.

"Elthina, no!" Sebastian cried out falling to his knees in despair. "Maker, no! She was your most faithful! Most worthy!"

"Why?!" Orsino demanded in horror. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"I've removed the chance of compromise, because there can be no compromise." Anders answered sternly. "So long as the Grand Cleric lived, mages would live under Meredith's oppression, and you would simply obey her like a cringing dog."

"The Grand Cleric has been killed, murdered by the mages." Meredith seethed. "As Knight Commander of Kirkwall, I invoke the Right of Annulment! All mages within the Circle are to be purged!"

"The Circle didn't even do this!" Orsino protested. "Champion, please! You can't let her do this!"

"And I call on you, Champion!" Meredith beseeched. "Your duty to this city is clear, and you are obligated to carry out justice. Even you must see that what must be done."

Hawke was deaf to both of them, he was still struck senseless with horror, and that it was a man he considered his friend that did this terrible deed.

"I...could have stopped you!" Hawke finally let out, remembering how Anders tried to blackmail their friendship into aiding him in some mad scheme. "I knew you were doing something terrible, and I could have stopped you! Maker, damn me for being such a fool!"

"No." Anders responded, unable to look Hawke in the eyes. "This had to happen no matter what. The Circles are an injustice in places beyond Kirkwall, and they do it with our blessing! The world needs to see!"

"Wrong!" Aveline called out furiously "All you've done is proven that you are a demon that deserves to be locked up or worse!"

"You fool!" Orisino shouted. "You've doomed us all!"

"We we're already doomed." Anders replied sternly. "A quick death now or slow death later; I'd rather go out fighting."

"And what about all the innocents you've murdered, you butcher!?" Hawke yelled. "The Grand Cleric, the mages, everyone caught in the blast! What about them!? What about their justice!?"

"It doesn't matter, Champion." Meredith explained. "The people will demand retribution, and I will give it to them."

"I will NOT let you slaughter all of the mages for the crimes of one apostate." The Champion defied fearlessly. "If you want Anders, you can have him, but you will not harm a single mage for his actions."

"I knew we could count on you." Bethany sighed in relief.

"You're a fool, Champion!" Meredith raged. She looked to her men and raised her sword at their would-be victims. "Kill them all! I will go and rouse the rest of the Order!"

"Go, now!" Orisino ordered his fellow mages. "Get to the Gallows and warn the rest!" As the mages fled, the Templars engaged Hawke and his Company. They made quick work of them, the Templars were not used to fighting a group of skilled and experienced non-mages.

"That it has come to this." Orsino replied, dourly, looking upon all the dead lying around.

"I don't know if we can in this war, Champion..." The First Enchanter sighed. "But I'm glad your on our side. I'll let you decide what is to be done with your...friend." He motioned at the possessed apostate as he turned to rally the Circle. "Meet with us a soon as you can."

Hawke approached his former friend, his eyes filled with outrage. His hand gripped his sword, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to resist the furious inclination to cut Anders where was.

"There is nothing you can say to me that I have already said to myself." Anders explained. "I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this."

"A convenient excuse." Hawke spat. "The demon made me do it!"

"There's nothing I've done that the Chantry hasn't done before!" Anders rebuked angrily. "This is the justice that the Chantry has had coming for centuries. It's time they feel the same pain they've done to others. If I have to pay for it with my life, then I pay, and all those who were sacrificed for my cause may have their justice."

"He said it himself!" Sebastian called out, angrily. "Kill him now, or I swear I will!"

"Do it, Hawke." Anders all but begged, truly desiring his former friend to commit the deed. "It's what I deserve. Kill me, so that my name might go on to inspire generations."

"Kill you!? You cowardly son-of-a-bitch! I want you to live!" Garret yelled and grabbed his former friend. Anders' was lifted and shoved by the Champion, as he pulled his hair and pointed out to the ruined city. "LOOK! LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!"

Hawke gave Anders a moment to observe fruits of his labors; The sky was black and red from all flames and ash that clouded the air with the smell of smoke and death filling everyone's lungs. Screams of horror, sobs of despair and battle cries filled their ears like a cacophony of the damned.

"How many people did you murder!? How many more died because of you!? How many of them came to you for healing and salvation!?" Hawke yelled as he yanked hard on Anders' ponytail, harder with each question. "And you think your own death can solve all of this!?" Hawke then tossed his former friend into wall, like a ragdoll and pointed out away from him. "Go! GO YOU FILTH! Go and tell every orphan and every childless mother why their loved ones had to die and explain it to them that it was all in the name of justice!"

"No!" The Starkhaven prince protested. "You can't let him live! Not after he murdered the Grand Cleric!"

"I can, and I am!" The Champion retorted. "I will not make a martyr out of him!"

"Then I will!" Sebastian knocked an arrow into his grandfather's bow, intending to avenge his surrogate mother, but Hawke snatched the arrow right from his hands and quiver then snapped them all like they were twigs on his knee.

"So be it." The former Chantry brother seethed hatefully. "I will return to Starkhaven, and bring such an army that there will be nothing for these maleficarum to rule. I will show them the Chantry's justice!"

"Go ahead." Hawke waved off, feeling unthreatened. "No one will follow you. Not after you ignored them for ten years."

The Prince turned to leave, quickly, and Anders was still there. Did guilt keep him here or fear? "Hawke...I..."

"LEAVE!" Roared at the top of his lungs. "And may the Maker have mercy on you, for no one else shall."

With that Anders gave them all one last look, and fled from them, both in guilt and in sorrow.

Hawke took a moment to recollect himself. How could this all have happened? He never could've imagined Anders of all people, a healer, could have comitted all of this destruction. Now he must stop another maniac from killing anymore innocents. Once again, Hawke's world was falling apart, his home destroyed and burning to the ground. Now, he would never no peace. Never get the chance to settle down with his women and enjoy the luxury with friends and family. He'd always be fighting, never knowing rest, or peace, and always against one fanatic after the next, until the day he dies.

That's when someone gripped his hand, and he looked over and saw his sister's smiling face. Bethany knew how he felt, and she was letting him know he was not alone. Not ever. Garret gripped her hand tighter and smiled. The Hawke siblings turned to their friends who were waiting for him, to know what to do next.

"None of you have to go with me if you don't want to." Hawke said calmly. "I'm Meredith's enemy now, not any of you. There' no need to..."

"Garret Hawke, I'm surprised at you." Aveline scolded. "For years you have done so much for us and this city. Don't you dare think we won't stand with you now."

"Hell yeah!" Varric agreed. "Your story is far from over, and I'm not gonna miss seeing you kick Meredith's ass out of her skirt and up past her ears!"

"I'm not leaving you, not again." Isabela promised yearningly. "You were always there for me, when it would've been better if you didn't. I'm not leaving you ever!"

"Ma Vhenan..." Merrill said, almost dreamily. "I can't ever imagine my life with out you, and I never want to find out. If you're going to stop that terrible woman, then I'll be right beside you."

Garret Hawke was absolutely stunned by his friends and loved one's devotion and despite the situation they were in now, he felt blessed.

"And what about you, Fenris?" The Champion asked the former slave. "Will you fight for the mages?"

"Fight for the mages?" Fenris asked incredulously. "No. Never. But for you? I'll follow into an Archedemon's maw if you asked it. Now let's get moving, we have people to save."

Hawke and his band descended into Lowtown, and it had turned into a nightmare. It was more than just Templars killing mages. Mages had begun to turn into abomination, both to have the power and because they were cornered in despair. Templars turned their blades, not just on surrendering mages and rage filled abominations, but on innocent civilians. Some were killed because they were suspected of being mages or for just helping mages. And in the middle of it all were all of the civilians, regular people who just wanted to get on with their lives, just like Hawke. Once again, outside forces were destroying their lives, bringing everything they knew and loved to the sword and the torch. People were dying everywhere and all Hawke could do was fight his way through and try his best not to weep at it all.

~XoXoXo~

The viewers of this memory had hard time watching themselves. Varric looked away, not wanting to relive the experience of seeing his home destroyed or his friends in peril. Cassandra looked like she wanted to cry, whereas Cole just let the tears fall down. What happened here in Kirkwall was far worse than what happened fighting against Corypheus. All of Kirkwall wasn't being raised by a madman trying to claim godhood. No, it was the madness they all created themselves. People killing people for the basest of fears and prejudices.

Varric watched the memory nostalgically while the others looked on with revelation. Evidently, the Champion and the Hero had more in common than just the both of them being warriors from Ferelden who fought at Ostagar.

"Maker's breath, how I remember that day." Varric sighed. "We're still rebuilding everything that happened then, and we're still nowhere close to rebuilding what was lost, or healing those who were hurt.

"So it' true, everything." Cassandra lamented. "Now I truly understand why Rajmael wanted the Chantry gone."

"You truly can't mean, Cassandra?" Vivienne questioned. "What happened here was a lamentable tragedy, but mages must have oversight if we're to survive."

"Yes, I do." The Seeker affirmed. "How many suffered hear because we allowed the Templars to abuse their duty? How many died because we didn't seek peaceful ends and in our self-righteousness killed all those who questioned us. The Chantry had lost it's way, or perhaps it never did; instead of bringing peace and enlightenment we allowed tyrants like Meredith to harm, not just mages, but the very people the Chantry was supposed to guide and protect."

"The suffering the Templars caused is beyond counting, Cassandra." Cole confirmed. He himself had witnessed such crimes when he was a spirit, and could still feel the pain of their victims. "All they needed was to wear the Chantry's Sunburst, and they were allowed to get away with the beatings, the rapes, and the murders."

"Sad to say, but you can't just hand people that kind of authority and then expect there to not be any abuses." Iron Bull said factually. "I know the Seekers are the ones who are supposed to watch out for that kind of thing, but it's not like your Order was ever that tolerant or accepting of mages. Under the Qun at least, everyone answers to someone, and crimes like this aren't tolerated."

"I think magic is creepy and everything, but you can't treat people like that. Not their fault they were born with creepy magic." Sera said with surprising agreement. "If I were a mage, I'd probably be pissed at the world, too."

"I was in Ferelden with Aedan when the Circle there was overrun by Abominations." Zevran stated. "Many of them were mages who wanted to be free from the Chantry. Maybe if the Chantry had heard them out instead of locking them away, perhaps things wouldn't have gotten so bad like it did there. Like it did here."

"And look what ended up happening because the mages decided to lash out. Both in Ferelden and Kirkwall, countless people were left dead." Vivienne argued. "Mages cannot be allowed to have no oversight, lest we repeat the mistakes that were made in Tevinter."

"Standing right here, you know." Dorian reminded but Vivienne ignored him.

"What the mages truly need is proper representation. A leader who can not only protect them, but who people will listen to and make their grievances heard." Vivienne finished.

"You are so transparent, it should be criminal, Lady Vivienne." Ranier admonished with disgust. "By 'proper representation' you, of course, mean yourself. Because you know so much about what these mages went through. I'm sure you learned all that while sipping seasonal wines in fancy villas while making small talk with Orlais' elite."

"You're hardly one to talk about transparency, Thom Ranier. Given your reputation for honesty." Vivienne sneered back. "You're not a mage, and couldn't possibly know what it is they go through, or what they need to stay safe."

"And neither are you." Varric shot seriously back at Vivienne. He glared up at her with an angry look in his eyes. "You are woefully underqualified to even think you're one to lead the mages. While you were in Val Royeaux, rubbing elbows with the nobility, I was here, with Hawke, and I saw firsthand what these mages went through. The pain they suffered, while you were living the high life. You weren't even a part of a Mage Fraternity. So don't act as if you know what your fellow mages went through, especially when you think everyone is so beneath you."

~XoXoXo~

Hawke and his companions stood inside the main hall of the Gallows. Cassandra and the other took a good look and this place, and realized that it truly was a prison. The windows were all barred, even the ones no person could reach. Every door had locks and bolts on the outside, to keep the mages from coming out. Almost all Circles in Thedas were like magnificent libraries, while this one was nothing more than a glorified dungeon. The Templars had done little to change the history of the Gallows, which was originally built by the Ancient Imperium to house and break the wills of their slaves. If anything, Meredith honored the Gallow's grisly history.

None of them dared say a word as the final events of Hawke's life in Kirkwall played out in front of them like a macabre play. Anders had the gall to show his himself again, and offered help. His plea was met by Hawke's mailed fist, breaking his nose and Anders left the Champion's tale and faded into obscurity. They saw how Hawke mounted a final, desperate, defense against the Templars to give the mages, people he owed absolutely nothing, a chance to escape. As the Champion, Hawke had sworn to protect the innocent and stand against tyranny. He would stand by that creed now, even if it meant facing the full wrath of the Templar Order.

They all witnessed poor Orsino's mind and spirit break at the sight of seeing so many of his mages slaughtered for crimes they had not committed. In his despair, he resorted to the only weapon he had left, a final act of defiance. Meredith wanted blood magic, and so he would give it to her. He slit his wrists, tapping into the power of his own blood, and fused his being with the bodies of his slain mages, turning himself into a giant walking abomination of rot and death: a flesh golem.

Hawke was forced to slay the monstrosity Orsino had become. Tore its head from its body, then stomped on it. There was no malice in what Hawke did. If anything, it was a mercy. Orsino had been fighting for years for the rights of his fellow mages, only to be put down and ignored at every turn, until finally he couldn't take any more. Watching his fellow mages be senselessly murdered, even after he begged for their lives, shattered him.

Hawke and his comrades pushed through the Gallows, killing every Templar and demon they came across, never once giving an inch to their foes. The only way the Templars were going to take this fortress back was to kill them, and they weren't going to make that easy for them. Hawke defended this city against the Qunari, and he wasn't going to let another group of fanatics trample it's people.

When Hawke made it outside the Gallows, covered in blood not his own. He looked out to the city, and felt his heart break inside him as he watched the flames engulf. Now, after all these years, he finally understood that soul-crushing agony that his mother suffered when Lothering was destroyed. To watch as everything he tried to protect, the life he built, all of it was now gone. After a decade of trying to create something for himself, he could never come back after this. However, Hawke's father taught him that walking the righteous path was never easy, and if it meant stopping Meredith from destroying any more lives, then Hawke's life truly had meaning.

Varric watched with deep nostalgia as the memories of his friends strode out to meet Meredith and her Templars, all of them ready to reach this story's crescendo. Either way, this was the end of a storied chapter.

Hawke fearlessly walked up to the cold-blooded hag that had unjustly ruled this city with an iron grip, who unjustly called the death of so many and dared to call her crimes righteous. He held the Celebrant tightly in his hands, and readied to finally put an end to her tyranny.

"And so here we are, Champion, at long last." Meredith spoke with anticipation in her voice, like she had been waiting for this moment.

"I suppose we both knew it would come to this some day, Meredith. I imagine you've wanted to get rid of me for some time now." Hawke addressed with deepest loathing on his lips.

"I bear you no ill-will, but justice is clear. Our actions are righteous, and sanctioned by Divine mandate, and you stand in the way of that." Meredith responded coldly, if not honestly.

"Wow. I don't know what's more heinous. The fact that you have the gall to spin such lies after all the people you've killed, or the fact that you believe them." Hawke mocked satirically. "Either way, there's no way I'm going to allow myself to be judged by some Chantry biddy and your warped interpretation of justice."

"I'm afraid you misunderstand your situation, Champion." Meredith stated with grave indifference. "You are no mage, but in supporting them you've elected to share their fate. You must die with the rest of this Circle."

Hawke smiled defiantly at the Knight-Commander and assumed his combat stance with the Celebrant. "If dying here means have the chance to spit in your eye, I'll call that a good death."

No longer able to stand quietly in the background, Cullen finally stepped forward and dared to question his Knight-Commander. "Knight-Commander, I thought we intended to arrest the Champion."

"You will do as I command, Cullen." Meredith ordered sternly.

"No." Cullen defied strongly. "I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad. But this is too far."

"I will not allow insubordination! We must stay true to our path!" Meredith shouted furiously, brandishing the strange sword she had on her back. The sword burned blood-red in Meredith's hands. The sword emanated a powerful, alien energy that possessed the heat of a dwarven forge. It was made from a material that was all too familiar to Hawke and Varric.

"Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks!" The memory of Varric swore in utter shock.

"You recognize it, do you not?" Meredith asked tauntingly. She held the sword before her and basked in its power. As she held it, Hawke could see the insanity in her eyes. "Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize."

Hawke held the Celebrant defiantly towards the crazed Knight-Commander, unflinching in his conviction. "How appropriate, Meredith. That idol brings doom to whoever has it. You're not leaving this place alive."

Meredith pointed her red lyrium sword at Hawke in outrage, it's blade burning dangerously. "All of you, I want this man dead!"

"Enough!" Cullen refused defiantly. He would not be party to this lunacy any longer. "This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, stand down. I relieve you of command!"

With those words from Cullen's mouth, the last bit of Meredith's sanity finally shattered. Her face twisted with betrayal and outrage. She looked around to all her Templars and saw nothing but enemies around her. "My own Knight-Captain has fallen prey to bloodmagic? You all have! You're all weak, to allow mages to influence your minds, to turn you against me." Meredith accused madly, pointing her sword at her betrayers. "But I don't need any of you! I will protect this city myself!"

The mad Knight-Commander turned her sword to the Champion, who was the cause of everything that has gone wrong in her eyes. She would smite him down with all the power this sword granted her. But Cullen stood in her path, his own sword drawn against her. He would not let her insanity go any further.

"You'll have to go through me." Cullen challenged.

"Idiot boy. Just like all the others." Meredith cursed spitefully. She gripped the red lyrium sword tightly in her fist and stabbed it into the ground, creating a red shockwave of energy that threw the surrounding Templars off their feet, and kneeled before the sword like she was praying. "Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter!"

With that final prayer, Meredith clenched her sword and charged Hawke with unnatural speed and power. She moved within even more force and speed than the Arishok did. Hawke was barely able to block her attack in time, and could feel the foul energy of her blade dancing on his skin. As a Templar, Meredith was able to tap into the unknown energy of the red lyrium in her sword and greatly increase her own power. She moved like a storm, striking with such speed and power no ordinary human could hope to match.

However, Garret Hawke, despite what he himself might think, was no ordinary human. He slaughtered scores of darkspawn and rock-wraiths to reach further into the Deep Roads than even the Wardens dared to venture. He had faced demons, bloodmages, dragons, and slew both the mighty Arishock and one of the Magisters who created the Blights. And after each victory, Hawke came out stronger, smarter, more prepared for the next danger. Meredith, on the other hand, even with her fancy sword, was just another despot. And despots are meant to be slain.

It took all of Hawke's years of training and experience to keep up with Meredith's powerful strikes and to not fall victim to the destructive energy of her sword. Despite this newfound power Meredith possessed, she did not wield it masterfully. She was letting her anger control her, instead of controlling it, and that made her predictable. And an enemy that can be predicted can be hurt.

Hawke deflected Meredith's furious attacks and followed through with several powerful counterattacks of his own. The Knight-Commander wasn't the only one with magical equipment, and Hawke spent the last few years and a small fortune to give Sandal all the best material to create the strongest enchantment on his weapons and armor. The Champion met the Knight-Commander's fury head-on, his armor protecting him from her wretched sword, and used the fire-enchanted Celebrant to knock her weapon out of his way and attacked her in force.

The Champion's remaining comrades joined their friend against this hateful woman. Merrill unleashed her bloodmagic to inflict terrible pain on Meredith, while Isabella threw a barrage of knives right at her head. Neither of them were going to let the wretched Knight-Commander hurt the love of their lives. Bethany used her Force Mage abilities to affect the gravity surrounding Meredith to greatly slow her down, and make her an easier target for her brother. Hawke had chosen to give his life for her and the mages, she could do no less for her family.

Varric shot everything he had from Bianca and provided covering fire while Aveline and Fenris attacked Meredith from her flanks. After everything Meredith had put this city through, put his friends through, Varric had no intention of holding back. Aveline owed Hawke almost everything, he was family to her, and helped her find happiness a second time, she would not let him down. All the anger Fenris felt, the wretched feelings he had been bottling up all these years, he finally let all loose on the hypocritical Knight-Commander. No matter where he went, corrupt tyrants were the same, and he would show Meredith just how much he hated corrupt tyrants.

After what felt like forever, Meredith finally staggered backwards in pain from the combined assault of the Champion and his comrades. Their combined attacks had inflicted several grievous wounds on her, but she refused to submit. She would not let anything stop her goal, even as the whole city turned against her.

"Maker, your servant begs you for the strength to defeat this evil!" Meredith cried out madly, her eyes burning red as the power of the red lyrium saturated her being.

The Knight-Commander made an impossible leap to the top of the Gallows' steps, stabbing the sword into the marble ground, and unleashed even more of its power. Fissures of crimson energy erupted from the ground and transferred to the ancient statues of the slaves and slavers that stood in this courtyard, bringing them to life as Meredith's new soldiers, and attacked everyone in the Gallows, including the Templars.

As Meredith's animated statues attacked all her enemies, Meredith ranted and raved in furious insanity at all those who dared defy her.

"You are a fool, Champion! Magic is a cancer, just as it was in the time of Andraste! We are left with no choice but to purify it with fire and blood! Everything that is wrong with this world, the mages bring! Abominations, bloodmagic, even the Blights! All the evil in the world is led back to magic! I must finish Andraste's holy quest and purge magic from this world, and all those who stand in the path of the righteous will feel the Maker's wrath! You cannot win, I will not allow it!"

"Oh, shut up!" Hawke yelled angrily. He had enough of Meredith's madness. It was time to end it once and for all.

Aveline knocked one of the walking statues' legs out from underneath it with her shield, and Hawke ran up it and leaped at Meredith, bringing his sword down on her. Meredith blocked the Celebrant with her own wretched sword, and the two of them became stuck in a powerful sword lock. Neither backed down before the other, and finally unleashed all the years of hatred and disgust they had for on another.

"You cannot win this, Champion! Evil cannot conquer the righteous! I am the Maker's wrath!" Meredith seethed with hatred dripping from her every word.

"I said...SHUT UP!" Hawke yelled furiously, and followed through with a powerful headbutt that smashed Meredith's face and broke their sword lock.

Hawke summoned all his strength, will, all the years of acquiring new techniques and skills, and brought it all down on Meredith. The power from the red lyirum idol that her sword was forged from gave her unnatural vitality, but Hawke did not relent. After all the years of misery and torment Meredith had caused, Hawke showed her no mercy, for she deserved none. He knocked down her defenses, slashed the sword out of his way and brought down his fury in all his attacks. He stabbed, hacked and impaled repeatedly and without stop. If Meredith had been any other enemy, she would have been murdered many times over.

Meredith staggered back, he blood trickling down her armor. For every strike she attempted, Hawke countered and followed through with three more that cut her deeply. She was losing, and she knew it, but she would not allow it. Meredith had come too far, sacrificed too many to allow this wretched blasphemer stop her from carrying out the Maker's will. She needed more power. The Maker would give her strength.

"I will not be defeated!" Meredith screamed madly. The toll of her weapon and insanity was finally taking a toll on her. Meredith held the sword tight in her grip before her, and drew on even more of its power. "Maker, please, aid your humble servant!"

The sword hummed loudly and burned brighter than it ever had. It's power resonating throughout the Gallows. Then, out of nowhere, it exploded into a thousand fragments in Meredith's grip. The Knight-Commander screamed in horrid agony as the fragment from her own sword burned her body and grafted to her flesh. Meredith fell to her knees, her tortured screams echoed throughout Kirkwall, as her body was consumed by the very weapon that had given her strength and robbed her sanity. When Meredith's screaming finally died, all that was left of her was the smoldering statue of what was once the Knight-Commander completely encased in red lyrium, her eyes burning, and that horrid look of pain frozen on her face.

Hawke looked down upon the desiccated remain of the Knight-Commander, not in shock like everyone else, but in contempt. "Here is the Maker's answer for your heresy: judgment and silence."

Garret turned towards the Templars, his sword raised, and dared them to approach him. He knew they all still wanted him in chains. Instead, Cullen motioned for the Templars to stand down, and allowed Garret to leave. Hawke took one moment to look back on Meredith's body and spat on her petrified face. If this was the Maker's punishment, then it was a just one. May Meredith Strannard forever remain here as a grisly reminder of those who commit atrocities and terror in the Maker's name.

Hawke took one last look at Kirkwall as the flames that burned the city pressed against the night sky. The city he had sworn to protect had been destroyed, and after tonight, he could no longer call Kirkwall his home. Everything he had worked for, was now gone, and Hawke's dreams of a peaceful life went with it. He had stopped Meredith's insanity and saved the mages from a brutal injustice, but lost everything in the process.

Then the soft hands of Merrill and Isabella grabbed Hawke's and they both smiled proudly, lovingly at him. He looked to his sister, and there was nothing but pride in Bethany's shinning eyes. In their smiles, Hawke realized that he had not lost everything. He still had his friends and loved ones. And in the end, he kept the one thing that had always mattered most to him: his honor. In the end, that's what a Champion is meant for.

~XoXoXo~

"And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen." Varric announced. "That's how the Mage-Templar war started, and how Hawke became a legend."

"Man...that was badass!" Iron Bull hollered and laughed.

"Seeing the Champion's victories is certainly better than hearing about it." Dorian agreed.

"I met the Champion while he was still in Kirkwall, back when I was still evading the Crows. And believe me when I say there is nothing like watching a man like that defy the odds." Zevran lauded.

"He knew what was right and what was wrong. He stood against tyranny when others would have bowed to it, protected the innocent when other would have condemned them. His mother, father and brother would have been proud." Cole spoke contently.

"That's how the crazy Templar-lady turned into a statue? Ugh! What made her think playing with red lyrium was a smart idea?" Sera shuddered.

"That sword Meredith was using against the Champion, it couldn't have been the same one Samson was using, was it?" Ranier asked curiously.

"It's certainly possible." Vivienne answered. "Corypheus used forms of magic no one truly knows, and knew how to manipulate the red lyrium. Perhaps he reconstructed the sword from its shards by using the same magic he used to resurrect himself, along with the magic of that orb. I certainly don't know."

"Meredith's actions here were a disgrace to the Chantry." Cassandra said condemningly. "She had no right to hold the Circle responsible for what Anders did, and then dared to act as if she was carrying out the Maker's will. Still, I wonder how much of that was truly Meredith and how much was that red lyrium."

"Meredith was cracked like a walnut, there's no denying that, but you're forgetting who allowed her to go that far: Grand Cleric Elthina." Varric reminded.

"That's a touch indelicate, isn't it, Varric? Blaming someone else's insanity on a dead woman?" Vivienne chided. "Wouldn't it be more apt to put the blame on that apostate Anders? After all, it was his actions that killed Elthina and sent Meredith on a rampage."

"If it wasn't Anders, then someone else would have done something like that eventually." Varric answered. "Everything Meredith did, she did it with the Chantry's blessing, with Elthina's blessing. Even when the city was groaning for a new leader, and Meredith was abusing her authority, the Grand-Cleric still refused to stop her. All she did was let things stay the way they were, and let Meredith's insanity get out of control."

"And that's the same insanity and zealotry the Viddasala wishes to unleash on the rest of Thedas." Cassandra realized. Now that she had seen what true fanaticism was, she understood the danger the qunari posed right now. "If the Viddasala is anything like Meredith, we cannot allow this Dragon's Breath plan of her come to fruition. The South has been harmed by enough blind zealots. We must stop this."

"I'm all for that, Seeker, I truly am." Zevran agreed. "However, the only problem is we're stuck walking down memory lane, while they're back in the real world. How are supposed to change that?"

"By going forward." Cole answered enigmatically. "We leave by walking the path and reaching the end. We must watch, must see. Only by witnessing do we pass."

Before any of them could take a second to register what Cole just explained, another bright flash erupted around them, and once again, they found themselves consumed by blinding light of this strange place.

Location Unknown...

Eva sat alone her cell for what felt like an eternity, still trying to grasp of the circumstances she had been pulled into. She felt like a leaf that had fallen into a raging river and was being swept away by the power of it current, with no control over what was happening to her. It would seem that was her lot in life. Looking back, it always seemed like her life was nothing more than an inconvenience for other people to shove around, and she hated it. Now the qunari were trying to control her, like they tried to control everything, and wanted to use her against her own people. Eva hated everything right now.

The wayward Dalish child thought of her family and clan, how frantic her grandmother must be right now. After losing her husband, son, and good-daughter, the prospect of losing her only grandchild must be killing her. Eva thought of her late grandfather, and tried to remember the wisdom he would always impart to the da'len. Eva tried to remember her father, and almost wept at realizing that she barely remembered his face. Her strongest memories of him were when he took her on her first halla ride through the forest, and how tightly she clutched to him as they went, both laughing all the way. Then Eva remembered her Mama, the way she would hold her and sing to her as she slept. Just wishing that her Mama was her now to hold her, make her feel safe and whisper warm words in her ear made Eva weep. She wanted to go home, and be with her family.

Eva's mind traveled to Rajmael and the last, bitter conversation they had together. At the time, she was beyond angry at him, now she wished he was here with her. Eva wanted to take back what she said, to make things right with him. All Eva could do now was hope beyond hope that Rajmael would save her, and that he was truly not dying.

Eva heard footsteps approaching her cell and quickly wiped the tears from her face before Isskari and Tallis came through the door once again. Eva's look of sorrow was replaced by one of anger and revilement for the two elven qunari that kidnapped her from her people. Eva was the daughter of Nethras and Evanura Lavellan, the best hunter and swordswoman of their clan; she would not show weakness to these flat-ears.

"Let me guess: you idiots still want me to give you information on Rajmael and what secrets he posses?" Eva guessed sarcastically.

"You know we are, child. And we do aim to get the information we're looking for." Isskari answered coldly.

"And what, in this vast, miserable world of ours, makes you think I would ever betray Rajmael, or any elf for that matter, to the likes of you?" Eva disputed.

"Because the information you hold is key to saving the South from the destruction your stepfather haphazardly allows. And talking to us is the best option for you." Isskari answered as a warning. "There are others here who could make you talk, and they would show you no clemency or sympathy because you're a child."

"Oh? So what you've been doing to me is considered clemency in the Qun? Kidnapping and chaining me, torturing me with these damned chains, then leaving me to starve, that's your idea of sympathy? You qunari either have different meanings for such words, or you're just plain evil." Eva rebutted heatedly.

"Please, Eva. We're doing this to save countless lives, both our people's and yours. You can help us do that." Tallis pleaded, though she didn't if she was trying to convince the girl, or herself.

Eva groaned in annoyance. There was nothing these two could say or do that would convince her they were acting for the good of Thedas, let alone the welfare of the elves. Still, she knew they would just keep hounding her, so Eva decided to throw these dogs a bone. "Tell you what: my people don't really care much for gold or currency, we believe in trading things of equal value, so that neither party is ever cheated. You tell me something and I'll tell you exactly what you need to know about Rajmael."

The corners of Isskar's lips curled ever so slightly into the faintest glimpse of a smirk. "That is unusually reasonable of you. Very well, what do you want to know?"

"Why in the name of all things good and holy did you two join the Qun?" Eva asked seriously.

Both the elven converts paused for a moment. It had been a very long time since either of them thought of this, and it wasn't one they liked to think of. However, if it could get Eva to finally give them the intel they needed, it was an extremely small price to pay.

"As I said before, child, like you, I was once Dalish." Isskari started solemnly. "My entire clan was wiped out by the darkspawn during the Blight, all in one night."

Eva's eyes went wide with shock. It shouldn't have surprised her, no clan on its own could ever stand against a horde of darkspawn, but for an entire clan to be wiped out from history was like severing a piece of the elvhen soul.

"What...what happened after that?" Eva dared to ask.

"My mother and I managed to flee North, away from the Blight, but she had contracted the taint and died from a fever." Isskari continued. "That's when I found the qunari and embraced the Qun."

"That's it? You didn't try finding another clan? You didn't want to rejoin our people?" Eva asked trying to understand.

"No, why should I have?" Isskari answered callously. "The qunari have a strength of purpose and discipline that is unrivaled in all the world. They look forward, never back, trying to bring enlightenment and peace to this chaotic world. The elves are content with living in poverty, being brushed aside and abused by human society without any true purpose, while the Dalish are content with living like backward savages in the woods, clinging to a bygone past that has never brought us anything except misery and pain. I joined the Qun because I know our people would be better under it."

At first Eva felt sympathy for the former Dalish elf, now all she felt was even more anger and disgust for him. "How dare you!? From where I'm sitting, you sound like you're no different than the humans you want to destroy. You call us, your own people backward savages, but all you are is another religious fanatic out to commit cultural genocide! Of all the people in your clan the darkspawn killed, why couldn't you have died and someone more worthy have lived?" Eva turned her attention to Tallis with an angry glare in her green eyes. "And what about you, what's your excuse?"

Tallis sat down on the cell floor so she could speak at eye-level with Eva. She didn't like thinking about what she was before the Qun, but sometimes it helped to just talk about it. Maybe she could even get Eva to understand.

"I was born in Tevinter. My parents sold me into slavery so they could pay off their debts." Tallis began sorrowfully.

Eva was visibly stunned by this revelation. She couldn't fathom any parent doing such a thing to their child.

"The slave ship I was on was captured by the qunari and we were taken Qantharus for conversion." Tallis continued, her eyes fixed on the floor. "I was deemed...unsuitable for conversion, I was too broken inside. I would have been made into mindless laborer if it weren't for a Ben-Hessrath agent called Salit. He convinced the tammasrans to let him train me. Even in the sorry state that I was in, he could see my potential, and did everything he could to bring it out. He was patient with me, showed me more caring and affection than my parents did, showed me where my purpose was. That's when my life truly began. The Qun cares about its people, all of them. It wants to see its people live up to their full potential, instead of just casting them aside or living off of them. It's not easy being an elf in the Qun, I know, but it can give everyone of every race a chance for true peace, where we're not divided by petty differences."

Eva sat there for a moment in silence, and both Tallis and Isskari thought they might have been finally getting through to the stubborn child.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Eva shouted in complete outrage, shattering any notion the two qunari might have had. "You just told me that the qunari thought you were unfit for conversion and were going to turn you into a mindless laborer! If it weren't for that guy who became your teacher, you'd be worse than mindless slave right now. If I was born under the Qun, I would be bound, leashed and collared like an animal because of my magic! And you idiots are trying to tell me the Qun cares for everyone, that it has a place for them? Convert, or be turned into a brainless slave. If you're a mage, you're a dangerous creature to be chained. No, the way I see it, the Qun is just another form of slavery, and my people have had enough of that! You're not an enlightened people, you're just another group of fanatics with swords. Hypocrites with a cause!"

Tallis mentally kicked herself in the ass. She should have known better than to think she could get through to this girl. Eva was still hurt and angry, and Tallis couldn't blame her. After what they've been putting her through, she couldn't deny what Eva thought of the Qun. She wished she could make the little girl understand that the Qun was more than that.

"Enough of this!" Isskari shouted, his patience wearing thin. "We fulfilled your condition, now uphold yours. What do you know of the Inquisitor's plans?"

"Very well. I'm nothing if not a girl of my word." Eva laughed dryly. "I'll tell you exactly what you need to know about Rajmael. And you might want to write this down so you don't forget it."

Isskari came in closer and produced a paper and pen to write with.

"Rajmael...is coming here, right now, and when he does he's going to kill you all! All you can do is wait for him to hit you with everything he's got!" Eva shouted victoriously, as if she were predicting a future that had already happened. "Rajmael walked through the Beyond, mended the sky, and killed the Elder One in single combat while you qunari stood back and watched! You think you're going to beat him? No, all you did was wake a sleeping giant! He's coming here, he's going to rescue me, and there isn't a damned thing you and precious Qun can do to stop him! Take that and report it to your superiors!"

Isskari gritted his jaw so furiously he threatened to break his own teeth under the strain. Tallis was more impressed than shocked with Eva; this child had more courage and strength than a lot of soldiers she had met, and she had barely hit puberty. Despite her admiration, Tallis knew in her heart that no tammasran would ever find Eva to be a suitable convert. This did not bode well for the child.

Isskari was done playing nice. He turned to leave the cell to make his final preparations against the Dalish child. "So be it. I have given you every chance to cooperate, to keep this civilized, and you've spat on that chance. We will do this your way. I hope you're ready."

"Do your worst, scum." The brave young elf dared defiantly. "I am Eva of Clan Lavellan, and I will never yield to the likes of you!"

Tallis left the cell with Isskari, and couldn't settle the internal struggle battling inside her. As a qunari, she knew her role was to assist the Isskari in gathering intel from this child so that the Viddasala would complete her mission. Eva was sarebaas, and therefore dangerous and couldn't be trusted to control herself. Yet at the same time, Tallis couldn't help but admire Eva. She had a strength of character that most couldn't dream of having, and a certainty of self that Tallis had been seeking her whole life. Yet soon, Tallis was going to be forced to assisting Isskari in carrying out a more effective method of interrogation. Tallis felt her resolve waver. In her heart of hearts, she knew she couldn't harm this amazing child. She had to help her somehow. But how could she do so without defying the Qun?

Language Codex:

Sarebaas: Qunlat term for mage, translates as "Dangerous Thing".

~Author's Note~

Alright! And here's Part 2 of my final Original Arc.

I hope this answers some questions that some of you may have and that some people have asked me in the past.

Sorry it took me so long to get this posted. I'm in between jobs at the moment and that's taking up my time.

Up next is the third and final chapter of the Path of Memory Arc. I can't wait to finish it.

Please, review and tell me what you think.