HAWKE

To say Kirkwall's descended into a deep pile of halla shit would be like saying that darkspawn are the ugliest creatures I've ever seen scurry across land: obvious and a tad trivialized.

Isabela's run off with perhaps our only chance of sending the qunari packing on peaceful terms, the Arishok's ordered an attack on the city, and now, after fighting our way back up to Hightown through elven sympathizers, carta, and Maker knows who else, the qunari have forced all the nobles inside the keep, where Fenris believes they're being forced to either convert to the Qun or die.

And here I thought it was going to be just another typical Tuesday. My mistake.

I groan and glance around our current battle scene.

Serena's just joined our party, after helping Mother, Bodahn, Orana, and Sandal escape through the estate's secret underground passageways. Together, alongside Fenris, Varric, and Aveline, we strike at the remaining qunari warriors scattered throughout the main Hightown courtyard, in front of the Keep. The last few qunari fall to a combo slash attack dealt by Aveline and Fenris; their strength and skill with their swords impeccable as always.

Panting and covered in a thick layer of dried blood and sweat, I hurry to help up a fallen mage, lying panting on the ground beside the Keep's stairs. "Many thanks, my friend," the grey-haired elf whispers as he gazes up at me with weary, green eyes.

"Looks like you fared better than the other mages." I jut my chin out at six others, on the other side of the courtyard. They all lie clustered together on the ground, sprawled out in puddles of their own blood. Motionless. Probably dead.

"The others? Surely they cannot all be . . ." He gasps and rushes over to his fallen colleagues. Kneeling, he starts to heal one of them: a dark-haired woman in an elaborate blue robe. She sits up, her dark curls shifting to reveal a part of her face, and my heart both sinks and soars at the same time.

It's Bethany. She's safe. And breathing.

At least that's one bit of good news.

"What were you thinking, child?" the elven mage places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I told you to let them take me."

"We had to do something!" Bethany snaps, her dark eyebrows furrowing together into a harsh scowl. "We couldn't just—" Her words cut off upon noticing me.

"Well, would you look at that. It's a Hawke family reunion!" I smile as the others gather round. "Good to see you're doing well, sis."

"Garrett? So, you are here . . . Took your time, didn't you?"

"Yes, well, I sort of had to work my way back up from the docks. That's a lot of stairs."

"Try being a dwarf," Varric grumbles, and Serena snickers.

Knight-Commander Meredith runs up to us from an adjacent corridor, alongside a group of templars. "First Enchanter Orsino. You survive," she addresses the exhausted elven mage in a flat, monotone voice.

Orsino glares at her. "Your relief overwhelms me, Knight-Commander." He all but spits out her title, the venom behind the remark unmistakable.

Meredith frowns. "There is no time for talk." She glances around at the lot of us. "We must strike back, before it's too late."

"And who will lead us into this battle? You?" Orsino snorts.

"I will fight to defend this city, as I have always done."

Orsino rolls his eyes at her. "To control it, you mean! I won't have our lives tossed to the flames to feed your vanity!"

I groan and rub my aching forehead.

I've had just about enough of this . . .

"Stop! Now is not the time for pointless bickering," I intervene. "We need to work together, not kill each other while we figure out who leads!"

The two halt, at long last, and Orsino lowers his head. "Then . . . perhaps you should be leading us." He sighs.

"What? He isn't even of this city!" Meredith yells.

"Neither am I," Orsino retorts. "Yet, I don't hear you complaining about us both fighting to defend our home."

Meredith huffs. She glares at me with her narrow blue eyes, like I'm one of those blighted blood mages she cares so strongly about. "Very well, then," she concedes. "But whatever your plan, be quick about it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Bethany mumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Serena giggles, looking far too amused by everything that's transpiring. Almost like Titan when he's found a new bone.

I wish I could say the same.

Andraste preserve me, I never wanted to lead. All it offers is more frustration and headaches. Two things I've had more than enough of in life, even before Kirkwall. But someone has to use sense. Maker knows, these two can't seem to do it. Not together, at least.

"Tell us, then: what is our course of action?" Orsino focuses on me.

I pause to consider.

We need to be cautious.

Being outnumbered against such formidable foes will only make our approach that much more difficult. Add in the hostages, and the fact that this will be Serena's first major fight since her recovery, we're facing significant disadvantages on all fronts. A half-assed plan with no intel will get us nowhere.

Meaning, there's only one place to start . . .

"Let's find out what the Qunari are planning, but not risk our necks in the process," I suggest, a scheme already forming in the back of my mind.

"An excellent choice," Meredith agrees. "Let's move quickly."

And somehow, despite being the one tasked to lead, our group follows Meredith and her templars up the steps to the Keep.

A faint, foreboding feeling churns in my gut. Warning me. Calling out to me. That somehow everything was about to change. For better or worse.


SERENA

Hawke and the Arishok circle around each other at the lower half of the crowded throne room. They charge at each other in bloody flurries—slicing, punching, kicking, spinning, feinting, and blocking each other. Whatever's convenient. Sylaise's tits, the Arishok even headbutts Hawke, which I'm pretty sure broke his nose!

It's terrifying.

Even for a qunari, the Arishok's massive. More so than Sten. His long, winding horns only accentuate this fact, making him look and feel more like a humanoid-dragon. But worse than that, he's also all muscle and grit, primed by decades of unknown combat experience, exuding palpable blood lust, aching for the kill.

He's been waiting for a moment like this ever since I arrived in Kirkwall three years ago, and Hawke gifted it to him on a silver platter—dismissing any and all of our wishes for what he felt was right. What was easiest.

Fitting for someone considered basalit-an. A title of even more significance, when granted by the current Arishok.

I clench my fists beside me to suppress the urge to jump forward to intercept the match. Demands of the Qun and Hawke's orders be damned. They're both acting like bloody idiots, and my heart can't take it! It's pounding so hard I wouldn't be surprised if it was sticking halfway out of my chest.

I've never felt so anxious in my life. Even confronting the archdemon felt less nerve-wracking than this, but that might've just been the adrenaline rush, in fear of a painful death, concealing it.

The others all stand still beside me, watching, just as helpless and part of the audience as I am—Isabela included. Although, I can hardly look at her now. If she had just told us about the relic beforehand, things might not have had come to this. We could've tried to negotiate. But she didn't. And then she ran, only coming back last minute, after so many pointless deaths.

Fenris puts one hand on my shoulder and squeezes, probably sensing my growing apprehension and frustration as well.

I glance up at him to find his gaze fixed forward, focused only on Hawke, his mouth shut tight with an unusual rigidness, even for him.

Hawke charges forward at the Arishok again, blood dripping from his busted lip and nose. They both swing their swords down at each other, clashing once, twice. Their grunts echoing off the massive Keep's walls.

And then, Hawke breaks through the Arishok's block, landing a deep, sweeping blow across the qunari's chest, snapping the last strap to his armor. The Arishok stumbles and collapses against the stairs, blood spurting out of the seeping chest wound. "One day we shall return," he rasps, pointing up at Hawke.

The Arishok's eyes flutter shut, rolling back into his head. He falls back, limp against the stair, with a noticeable shudder that shakes him from head to toe. The qunari soldier standing nearby nods to their waiting comrades, and without so much as another word, they take their leave, strutting out the door like nothing happened. The Arishok's body left, abandoned.

Hawke huffs and turns to face us, his armor hacked to pieces, and his face a bloody mess. Meredith and Orisno sprint into the room at that moment, a few convenient minutes late after clearing out the rest of the Keep. "Is it over?" Meredith asks, halting in front of a limping Hawke.

"It's over," Hawke says, clutching his injured side.

"The city has been saved!" one of the nearby nobles abruptly yells.

The room erupts into cheers and applause. Our entire group lets out a long, deep breath.

Every nerve inside me slackens, releasing the wound up tension, penetrating my bones.

Thank the gods. It's finally over. He's safe. We're safe.

Meredith scowls at Hawke and re-sheathes her sword. "Well done. it appears Kirkwall has a new champion," she says.

Everyone around them smiles. Everyone except her, the fakeness of her own 'appreciative' bow rivaling a snide magister.

Hawke dismisses it and hobbles over to us, one shuffling step at a time. His footing stumbles over the edge of an uplifted tile.

Fenris, Aveline, and I all jump forward, catching him before he can hit the floor. He stares up at me with a wide, boyish grin, as if apologizing for the blunder or perhaps his earlier recklessness. Maybe both.

Then, scolding him under our breaths, the lot of us cart Kirkwall's new, foolhardy hero out of the Keep in search of Anders. And as much as I would like to call him such to his face, I can't.

After all, I rushed headlong at an archdemon myself.


Author's Note: Well, with the conclusion of this chapter, we're now sprinting into Act 3! I argued back and forth with myself about whether I wanted to include this chapter or not. But in the end, I felt it was necessary to give a better look into Hawke's and Serena's mindsets regarding the qunari invasion and mounting tensions. Plus, it provides a nice transition into the next chapter, which will be posted this Friday or Saturday, as scheduled. Thank you all for reading! And if you can, please comment and subscribe! Enjoy!