A/N: I am actually only half aware of what is going on anymore. I might be crazy. I was trying to write a Chapter 6.5 to make up for the time-skip, but I think I'll put it in here instead, as some form of flash back maybe.

Chapter 9

Sebastian was not as alarmed as he wanted to be. He watched his only son wander into an unknown that could kill him, looked on as they dragged him away to Maker-knows-where when he awoke, and was now cradling his love's body as it seized in his arms. Needless to say, the prince had no idea what he was doing. Tuned ears listened to background conversations; Orsino was calling for a healer mage, Meredith was raging about how this was what kindness did to mages, and a templar had one hand on his shoulder, the other on the Champion's twitching legs, and was telling him not to worry. Sebastian wasn't worried so much as he was confused.

A healer came, but by then she had stopped moving so erratically. She whispered cries for her father and clutched Sebastian's shirt. Orsino offered to let her rest in one of the spare beds in the Gallows. Meredith commented on how the idea should become permanent. He didn't walk with the man carrying Hawke, finding himself glued where he stood. The First Enchanter gave him a sympathetic smile before following the ailing woman. The Knight-Commander came up beside him and watched in equal emptiness.

"I don't care if she's the Champion or how much money she has; she should be killed for what she has done today," she stoically said. Sebastian didn't give any sort of reaction. The woman left him alone with his thoughts and the pool of blood he had decided to stare at.

"Does she?" he asked of the air. The air did not reply.

Percival sat up quickly. Immediately he regretted it, as a sharp pain spread through his body and head. His head he understood; he was accustomed to the pain restless sleep caused it. What piqued his interest was the fact that he had a bandage wrapped around his middle. He prodded it with a finger, causing it to hurt a bit more, but did not show any signs of it being dirty. Curious, he began to unwrap it.

I advise you to stop that immediately.

"I don't care, I want to see." It was difficult getting them off when they went behind his back. He cringed more every time.

You do not need to see. I order you to stop.

"You can't or—What is this?" He stared at the fresh scar splitting the two halves of his stomach. It was a perfect line, the size of a greatsword.

You do not need to know. I suggest you replace those bandages. Someone is coming.

"No. What is this?"

They passed by. I still suggest you replace them, in case someone does indeed come.

"Not until you answer me."

He could hear Justice sigh. Your mother did it. Now replace them.

"Why would mother do this to me?"

I am not certain. Are you going to do as I say now?

Percival reluctantly covered the mark back up with the bandages. Hesitantly he sat up and then, once he was sure of himself, he stood up. This place was his room now, a privilege known to only those who had passed the Harrowing. On his dresser was a new set of robes, identifying him as a real mage. His original chest of belongings sat next to it, ready to be emptied and its contents put in their places. He left it to do later. The new clothes were a little loose, but he did not mind. There was a key on his nightstand which he supposed was his personal key to the room. He placed it in a small pocket in the robes and left the room.

Looking down the hallway, he saw a group of templars standing guard in front of a door. The door was closed, but a voice could still be heard. It was Meredith's voice, with Orsino's chiming in whenever possible. The boy walked towards it, but a firm hand caught his shoulder, keeping him still.

"You cannot go that way," the templar said, his face looming down at him from his height. Percy's blue eyes stared up at him with an emotion akin to fear. The man smiled gently. "You should go eat breakfast with the other children. I'm sure your sense of time is messed up; it's morning."

He nodded in understanding, gave the other room a passing look, and walked in the direction of the communal dining room. The man stood in front of his room and only followed him with his eyes.

"I do not care who she is, why she did it, or even if you don't believe it was blood magic, but what I saw was against the Chantry law and I demand she be executed for her crime!" Meredith yelled into the older elf's face. He stood firm, his face unmoved by intimidation. On the bed the Champion attempted to sit up, but she was restrained by shackles. She sighed loudly but it went unnoticed.

"It was not blood magic! You were determined to kill that boy, if anyone should have ended his life before being possessed, shouldn't it have been his own mother to do it? Isn't that why you let her be there?" Orsino retorted, his features reddening with rage. The Knight-Commander took a step forward, pushing him against the wall.

"First Enchanter, then please explain to me why the boy was neither possessed nor died when she did it? Maybe it is she who is possessed instead and using those new powers spared his life. Either way I see it, one of them is the blood mage and if you cannot prove otherwise I will have them both executed!" She rounded on Sebastian who had been sitting at Lucienda's side. "And I will have him killed as well for conspiring with a blood mage!"

Orsino began to counter her attacks, but the Champion's voice rang out above them. "I was not aware killing demons before they possessed little children was against Chantry law. I should have been hanged a long time ago then."

"Champion, you cannot convince me that you had slain a demon that was still residing in the Fade by piercing the body it intended to possess. That is complete bullshit." Hawke motioned to one of the templars to lift her tunic. His hands were tentative but she assured him it was fine. When the clothing was secured beneath her chest, she watched as both the Commander and Enchanter peered at the elongated scar splitting her in half. Unlike her son's it was jagged and more faded.

"You would know more about the power of blood if you allowed mages to have children, wouldn't you?" she said in a chiding tone.

"Explain yourself, Champion," Meredith said coldly. It was an order filled with curiosity. The gleam in her eye gave her away. Hawke smirked.

"I am not about to give away family secrets."

"You will explain or I will have you beheaded right here and now, blood mage!" the Knight-Commander removed her sword from its holster and placed its tip at her throat. Sebastian sat up quickly and gripped the sword in his hand, blood oozing out where it cut into his gloved palm.

"There is no need for this, Commander!" Orsino insisted, stepping between the woman and the prince. Meredith was reluctant to pull back her blade, but she did it anyways.

"You are lucky, Champion. I will be watching you carefully." All that was left of her was the fluttering of the cape that followed her always. Orsino sighed and gave Lucienda a weary glance. Her only response was a smirk. While the enchanter healed Vael's bloodied hands, he spoke softly so not to be overheard.

"You should remove yourself from our affairs before it really does end in your death, Champion."

Varric had to admit that Hawke became quite boring once the Qunari were gone. The title of Champion did not make her any more ambitious. In fact, it kept people so afraid of her that there was hardly any need to call upon her. He gave her the credit of at least looking for a fight; she often invited him to scour Kirkwall for shady work, saying it was the best kind. Frequently she took walks on the Wounded Coast and Sundermount. She would come back with not bloodstains or scrapes, but just a bag filled with things she had found along the way.

Lucy had become something of a collector and experimenter. The magic was gone but she still mixed lyrium into various objects to see their effect. Though she owned half of the Bone Pit, she had set up something of a shop. Every seven days she packed up the things she would sell and picked a random spot in the city to stay for the day. With all of her resources, she had an overstock of healing items and fairly good armaments. It was no surprise that people flocked to her; she was the Champion of Kirkwall, after all. Most people would ask why she was bothering to do a merchant's job as they handed her silver in exchange for some pretty object that she had found and fixed up. She said that if Kirkwall didn't need her as a protector, it could use her as its lifeblood. News of her work spread like a disease in Darktown as nobles and paupers alike whispered in ears.

One day a templar walked up to her while she was sitting on the Docks. She could often be found there because it was where the merchant ships washed in and would see her crates and crates of valuable items she most likely pilfered from dead bodies when she had a chance. The templar, a young man no older than twenty, picked through her bottles of magical potions. When he couldn't find what he wanted, he looked up at her. "Do you have lyrium?"

She scratched her head in thought; people didn't usually ask for lyrium so she did not bring it any more. Remembering a case was sitting in her basement, she almost told him that she indeed had some, but then a realization had hit her. Templars were addicted to lyrium, the poor boy was probably too since he was asking a merchant for the substance. As part of her experiments, she had found something of a cure for lyrium addiction. On her travels in Darktown she had found another templar, much older than this boy, trying to find a lyrium smuggler. At the time she was carrying the potions, having just left Anders' clinic to discuss its possible effects. They looked just like lyrium and so the man snatched one up and downed it. She watched as he screeched in agony, vomited the blue liquid and was then brought to his senses. He asked why he was holding the bottle and she had told him the truth; that he had been addicted to lyrium and thought she had been carrying it. The man balked at the thought of taking lyrium and quickly went back to the Gallows in distress.

"I do not keep it in stock here, you would understand why. Come back to my estate this evening and I will find some for you," she said in her most pleasant voice, giving him a slight wink. He nodded nervously and walked away. Hawke sighed in relief. By the time it was dark she had sold most of her things, which wasn't always the case. Carrying the little she had left, she made her way home. Standing in front of her estate door was the young man, kicking at the loose stones in the road. Carefully she led him inside.

"Darling, how was—who is this?" Sebastian asked from where he sat at her writing desk. She waved her hand and continued on her way to the basement. The boy gave a small nod to the rogue before following. Inside she placed her wares on the nearby table and began to rummage between casks of wine. Hawke had specifically labeled the lyrium and its addiction fighter by placing different colored corks in the tops. It was easy to notice the red stopper and she handed one potion to her customer. He looked at her as if she were crazy.

"You only need one, I assure you," she said simply. He started to pick through his armor for his money pouch. "No need to pay me."

The boy thanked her, turned around, and downed the whole flask. It took him a little longer to dirty her basement floor than the man in Darktown. He apologized more than necessary, saying it was her pleasure to give it to him. She handed him a cloth to wipe his face and the bit that got on his boots. With a smile she showed him to the door and watched as he quickly walked away.

"What was that about?" her love asked when she re-entered.

"Just helping a poor boy."

"Why do you insist on helping templars after all they have done?" He got to his feet abruptly and approached her. She smiled as if he had told her he loved her.

"If I must thank that damned spirit for anything, it was that he helped me forgive. Just like mages, templars are not all the same. That boy did not hurt me and no one deserves to suffer like that. He was old enough to be my brother." With that being said, she walked back to the basement to clear up and organize her things. Sebastian sighed and went back to writing letters and counting money.

Anders looked out the slot of his door and saw the group of templars. It was as if they were looking but not for anything in particular. They knocked on his door but he did not answer, hoping they would go away. After a few minutes they did and he watched as they turned the corner. In a frenzy he grabbed his key to Hawke's basement and made for the door. Once he opened it he came face to face with a burly man in templar armor. He looked just a little be deranged. He would have shrieked in terror if his windpipe was not currently being crushed by the man's hands.

"Where is the champion?" the man asked in a loud booming voice. Anders did not have a chance at answering before blacking out.

When he awoke he was staring into her face. There was a red smudge on her cheek and she was holding a cloth to her eye. She gave him a smile before giving him space to sit up. It would have been funnier that she sat down on the previous strong man if the mage didn't feel like he had been crushed into the ground. The man gave a muffled sound of pain before going silent. Hawke removed the cloth to reveal that her eye had once been bleeding but was now just bruised.

"What happened?" was all he could say. She laughed.

"I showed up through the basement door, saw him standing over your body and knocked him out. Pretty simple," she replied. He nodded.

"Did you catch what he wanted?"

"Something about… lyrium I think."

"Do you think there are some nasty rumors going around that you're a lyrium smuggler?" Anders asked, his face full of concern.

"I think stories about my lyrium kicker have been making rounds. The question is; do they think it's lyrium or do they know what it does? Either way, let them have it," she explained matter-of-factly. He looked about to blow up before the captive templar grunting in his new found consciousness.

"Where the bloody hell am I?"

"Lyrium?"

"Give me that damned lyrium!" he shouted. Hawke shoved a red-capped bottle into his hands. He guzzled it like a man walking through the desert. She got up before she could be soiled. A few minutes later she was waving as the man walked away.

"Someone gets hurt every time you help, huh?" Anders asked her. He got a heavy pat on the back before she made her way home.

In the hallway they met gazes, blue eyes locked on each other like two duelists trying to intimidate the other. The templars behind them kept their feet moving, not even allowing the three family members to exchange words. Sebastian looked infinitely relieved while his wife remained stone-faced. Before the door to the courtyard closed, she looked back and they simply nodded to each other. Outside the sun was high in the sky, baking the poor people who could not have the shade of the Gallows.

Innocently his hands slipped into hers, they smiled sadly, and walked towards the water's edge. From a high tower they were watched by a blonde templar and a grey enchanter. A boy could barely make out their boat from between a sea of eager children. They were met by a tired mage and a grimacing dwarf. The night ended in glasses of wine and a warm fire.

In the middle of their slumber, Sebastian prodded the still-awake woman next to him. She hummed in response and shifted her body to stare into his face through the darkness. He looked troubled.

"Am I allowed to know this family secret?"