A/N: A chapter in which some secrets are revealed, and hopefully this story's plot doesn't look so stupid anymore. I also noticed that I subconsciously made Hawke's way of dealing with depression the same as mine, minus the drinking and the killing herself. Mostly the erratic displays of emotionless stares and nonchalant happiness.

Chapter 7

Life was slower now that the Qunari threat was over. The mage-templar feud had yet to catch fire as the two stubborn leaders would seclude themselves in their own business. Though Hawke was now the esteemed 'Champion of Kirkwall', people became hesitant to ask for her help. Even people who simply needed a crate lifted refused to have her help, saying she was too noble to aid such commoners. Nowadays they spent time walking through the city, collecting herbs in the mountains, and drinking at the Hanged Man.

Today was the day when they shared stories with each other; whether they were life stories or legends from homelands. This time it was Hawke's turn and Varric made sure to grab some paper and pens. Everyone was present; no one ever missed story nights if they could help it. All of them sat around the table, pouring themselves ale or the expensive stock that the dwarf and Hawke had stashed away. Hawke took the seat of honor at the head of the table.

"So Champion, I think this time you should… explain yourself," Varric said, giving her a sly grin. Words of agreement followed, everyone was looking at her. She sighed and moved a piece of hair. After taking a sip of her Orlesian wine, she cleared her throat.

"By 'explain yourself' I'm sure you mean 'life story'. The biography of the Champion of Kirkwall would sell for some pretty nice gold, wouldn't it?" She gave Tethras a calculated glare before she laughed. All ears were on her. She could practically feel their attention on her skin.

Well, I grew up in Lothering with my family: mother, father, Carver, and Bethany. Mother was part of the Amells but she fell in love with my father, a mage, and so she ran off to Fereldan with him. I was their first and eldest child, and born a mage like father. Contrary to popular belief, I was not really born mute; I just hardly ever talked. There were no children my age in Lothering, and by the time I had to start hiding my magic, I learned to not trust anyone with my words.

As Carver and Bethany grew older, it fell on me to do the family work. Father had died within a year of the twins being born and mother was absolutely devastated. We owned a simple farm, enough to feed ourselves and also pay for the cost to keep it up. I taught Bethany how to be a mage while also making Carver into a strong boy. I remember how he would try to lift the heavy bags of seed, saying 'I will be just as strong as you!' and then he would fall over from exhaustion. Carver wasn't blessed with magic and so was determined to becoming a warrior. He would rattle on about how magic was useless if you weren't strong. I would laugh and pretend I was insulted. Bethany would always complain about his attitude, but she would agree that I was the perfect mage. Carver would get so jealous that he'd storm off into the night and not come back until he was cooled down. It usually took a while.

What Carver didn't know was that father was what he called an 'arcane warrior'. He knew how to wield a blade as well as cast a good lightning spell. The armor I now wear was even his, though in his time it was white like snow. He taught me how to wield a blade, but was unable to finish my training before he died. When Carver trained to become a warrior, I both instructed him and learned with him. I was always at a slight disadvantage; I was not only a woman but also a mage. It didn't bother me much and it gave him a bit of pride, so I was happy.

Everyone knows the story of how I kept the Templars in Lothering at bay; there's no need to repeat it. That is when I became mute. I was sure at first it was shock, but I know it was magic. There was one templar who was obsessed with the effects of lyrium. One day he told me he would pardon my family for three months if I let him experiment on me. At the time it seemed perfectly acceptable; three months was a long time to not worry about templars. What I didn't know was that he intended to see how much lyrium I could handle drinking. I am unsure of what happened because of it; I blacked out after 10 bottles and when I awoke I could not speak. I did know that my magic had felt… boosted and also noticed that the templar was gone. I tried to ask where he went, but no one could understand my gestures.

Bethany became distant, she was a bit disgusted with what I had done. She had no capacity to understand me either, just like I had no capacity to learn how to read or write. When I was a small child, I remember looking in my father's journal. One time he walked up behind me, snatched it up, and was about to scold me, but he noticed that the page was blank. He asked me why I was reading a blank page and all I could say was that it was not blank. Father became startled and never asked again. I don't remember if I said anything more or even what I was reading, but he made me promise never to read his journal again. It was strange though, because when she showed me the words he had written, I could see only nothing.

Carver became my interpreter and my confidant. We were more than siblings; we were master and student, king and advisor, a mage and a warrior. When he went to join the army, I insisted I go with him. He convinced me that mother needed me more and reminded me that my best use was magic and therefore it would be risky. I wrote him every day to make sure he was safe.

We already know the story of the Blight and how my family came to Kirkwall. We were refugees like anyone else. What I didn't know was that my cousin was the Hero of Fereldan. I have not talked to him in ages, but I am still proud to know that a mage can become a great thing.

"Wait, the Gottfried Amell was your cousin?" Anders asked in shock. She stared at him wide-eyed and nodded. "I met him in Vigil's Keep. That's where I met Justice. Gottfried freed him from the Fade. Sometimes I wish he hadn't… Justice was sort of… fond of him. It was a little unsettling."

"So this arcane warrior business," Varric interrupted, "is that why you busted into my room, all fire and demons, wielding that big sword and wearing that god awful armor?"

"Well, yeah. I had saved it when we left Lothering. Why are you so interested?" she asked, taking more sips from her wine glass. Varric scribbled something down before he looked at her firmly.

"Mages aren't supposed to go around spilling guts with blades and taking sword blows to the chest. Mages are… frail and just want to blow stuff up. No offense."

"None taken. I supposed it was a little surprising."

"Are you ever going to do magic again?" Merrill asked from down the table. Everyone gave her sidelong glances. It took the innocent to ask such a loaded question. Sebastian hid his face in his cup, pretending to take a drink.

"It is silly to say that now I feel cursed by magic. However, it just… doesn't come to me anymore. I don't feel the Fade any longer, but I'm not Tranquil either. Maker knows what did it. I don't know if it slipped away or if it really did disappear when Percy was born. If it comes back to me, maybe I will. Right now, I want to stay away from it. Besides, it's nice stabbing things every once in a while," she said, scratching her face as she thought. The scabs had healed and there was barely a blemish, but she could still be seen picking at the wounds that were no longer there.

They fell into a reserved silence. It was not filled with tension so much as they had nothing to say. Varric was still writing when he finally spoke up once more.

"By the way, what was on the papers you read in my bedroom? The blank ones."

"That was a long time ago. Something about… a great conflict, between two old enemies. The city was flooded in blood. One of them was desperate, the other crazy. But the city was saved by one person. That person became king and rebuilt the city with their bare hands. The city was then known as a haven for the oppressed," she continued thinking for a few moments, her face contorted in recollection. "That's all I can really remember."

"That's interesting…" Varric jotted it down. "The actual story was about you."

Stares were shared. After a few seconds, Hawke laughed. She downed her wine before leaning towards him. "Varric, if I could rebuild this city, I wouldn't bother. Just build a new one! I'd probably leave the Hanged Man though. No use fixing what works."

"You always did like destruction and shiny stuff," came a voice from the doorway. There he stood in his nicer clothes; Carver. Hawke jumped up and rushed into his arms. They shared a long embrace.

"Oh, Carver! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would've brought your favorite food," she said, face buried in his shoulder. He laughed and gave her a reassuring slap on the back.

"I wanted to surprise you. That was a nice story I heard. Are you sure it's true?" She gave him a sharp jab in the ribs. Everyone laughed and invited Carver to the table. He sat down with Hawke and shared Varric's brandy.

"So Lil' Hawke, how is Fereldan this time of year?" Varric asked, a grin on his face.

"As dismal as ever, but the darkspawn are definitely gone. I'll have you know, sis, that those bastards tried real hard to knock our old house down but it just wouldn't budge. I had to add a room though, Mary's parents moved in and Caroline wanted a big room to herself. The girl is spoiled rotten, I swear," he said with a broad smile on his face. Caroline was his four year old daughter. She had her mother's bouncy blonde curls and Carver's bright blue eyes. She was the center of everyone's attention.

"She's lucky she has you as a dad. No big bad scary things to come get her," Aveline said, shoving him lightly with her foot under the table. She hardly ever joked but she always found something to say about Carver. She always recalled when she found his application to be a guardsman and had made sure that the captain denied it. He was so angry that he didn't talk to her for weeks. Now they were like friends or even siblings.

"Why are you here?" Hawke asked. The brother gave a small chuckle. He explained it was just a small visit; his greater intention was to procure some family documents to present to Fereldan's records. The night was spent in revelry and it was well into the midnight hours before they retired.

It was 3 long years of peace and quiet before anything interesting happened. Meredith had cemented her hold on all of Kirkwall's affairs while also treating the mages like mad criminals. Hawke tried to stay out of it, not wanting any extra attention as Champion of Kirkwall, but many times was the family card played to gain her favor.

One day while she was tending to some business affairs, a wiry messenger showed up at her doorstep. She recognized him as the young man who usually sent her letters from Orsino. Though she greeted him with a smile the boy seemed very nervous. The note he carried was not the common long note but a short piece of paper. He handed it towards her and she could have sworn he muttered a 'I'm sorry, messere.'

'Hawke,

I require your presence, along with his Highness Vael, in my office today immediately.

O'

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion and looked up to ask the messenger a question, but he was gone. Sighing she returned to the house and pieced together her armor onto her body. She sent Bodahn to find Sebastian and headed to the Gallows by herself. Waiting for him in the boat left her with time to think about things unsaid. She dipped her fingers in the still water, swirling it around absent mindedly until she realized it was probably infested with some unpleasant thing. Her head turned at the sound of footsteps, a smile broke across her face, and they sailed to the other side of the river.

When they got there, the First Enchanter was pacing the floor, a look of distress plastered on his visage. He looked at them and seemed to deflate. Hawke gave him a weak sympathetic smile as she watched him walk behind his desk and sit in his chair.

"It is about your son."

A/N: Really short chapter, but I like where it stops and I wanted to put this up. :3