A/N: Ah, it's been a while, but I'm back! I was torn between writing the scene as a confrontation, or something ridiculously sappy, but decided the latter was far, far too out of character and just made no sense. Also, I have to give a great big shout out to my beta, Wynterkiss, I would suck something major without her. (And you should hop on over to her page, her writing's pretty fabulous, if I do say so myself.) Now, onward to busting heads!

How had it come this far? Who the hell was this woman? It certainly wasn't Hawke. Was this who she used to be?

"I stand with the Qunari."

No, certainly not Hawke. She stood by the Arishok's side, regarded as a hero in the eyes of the Qun, hefting a large blade she called Asala. She looked at that sword as though it were life itself. The scene at the Keep was gruesome, especially the decapitated Viscount that awaited them when they arrived, and at first, her companions had thought that perhaps she was acting, but as they looked at her, face devoid of emotion or compassion for the innocent people slain here, they were certain they were wrong. Hawke was gone as quickly as she had returned, and whatever took her place stood to destroy all of Kirkwall.

"I really hope this works, Isabela." Varric muttered over his mug. They sat on the bar-stools in the Hanged Man waiting for the verdict. Fenris had gone to talk to Hawke, and they had been waiting for a good half-hour.

"Me too, Varric, me too." Isabela sighed, not her chipper self.

It was late evening and the tavern was moderately full, the hum of voices was continuous enough to melt all the conversations together. It smelled less like piss than it normally did, but only because the body odor was worse. Aside from that, everything was totally normal, so normal even that no one so much as blinked when a heinously loud crash resounded from the back. Business as usual, you know? Varric and Isabela, however...

Varric shook his head, "I really hope that wasn't Hawke."

"Knowing her? Well, let's just say our chances aren't good." And within moments Isabela was proven correct.

"Get out!" Hawke shrieked as Fenris backed down the stairs. She appeared seconds later, still in lingerie, her fake-silk robe billowing behind her. All eyes were suddenly on Hawke, for obvious reasons. "I don't need your fucking pity, Fenris! You don't know me!"

"Looks like it didn't work." Isabela lamented.

"Eh, she's out of her room for something other than food and alcohol at least." Varric quipped back.

"Maybe I would 'know you' if you hadn't lied to me about her!" Fenris shouted back.

"I didn't lie about anything! I don't fucking lie!"

"Really? Because I distinctly remember everyone thinking you were Fereldan!"

Hawke was well acquainted with most of the people in the Hanged Man, she did live there, after all, and most of them were not aware of her Qunari upbringing. So, even though they were only paying attention to the faux-lover's quarrel for Hawke's attire (fights came and went in the Hanged Man quite frequently), hardly any of them missed this piece of pertinent information. A lot of them only worked with her because they believed her to be a refugee, which technically she was, and for the most part nothing would really change after Fenris outed her secret, but that wouldn't stop her from being furious about it.

Her face twisted in rage, "Get the fuck out of here, Fenris, I don't want to see your face." She didn't yell this time, she didn't need to.

"No! I tried to help you, I even acted like I didn't give a shit about Hadriana and you threw it back in my face! I'm not going to follow your orders when-"

"Exactly! You acted!" Hawke cut him off, "I don't want you to fucking act!"

"Fine! I'll tell you exactly how I feel then, I am absolutely disgusted with you! Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes. I'd rather you be disgusted with me than look at me like I'm a damn victim." Hawke then muttered something in Qunari that no one understood. No one except Fenris, that is. It was then his turn to be furious.

"What did you call me?" He spat through clenched teeth. Varric and Isabela could both tell by his change in posture that she had said something truly heinous, they almost believed that he was going to outright attack her.

"You heard me, Fenris." She glared at him. Things were tense, as was to be expected, but for a moment, no one spoke.

Until Fenris let loose what sounded more like a mighty roar than words, "I am nota slave!"

Varric and Isabela's mouths fell open, and they stared up at Hawke with a look of pure incredulity, but Hawke explained herself, "He still controls every move you make, every decision! Hell, you even live where you do because of him! And you want to stand there and tell me you aren't a slave?" Hawke actually laughed at him, "Go ahead, the only person you're fooling is yourself."

"And you aren't? You're just as much a slave as I am!" He yelled in reply.

"I don't see my master walking around, do you? I fought, Fenris, you ran. You may be disgusted with me for Hadriana, but I'm disgusted with you for that."

Something snapped in him, he didn't show it, of course, but something changed, for the better or the worse he didn't know. It changed because he knew she was right. He hadn't looked at it like that before; he hadn't ever compared his escape to hers. He couldn't help but feel like a coward.

Fenris just made a growling noise and stomped out. He couldn't handle her right now, or the glaringly obvious failure she had just made of his most triumphant moment. She had managed to tear down the one thing he had, his freedom.

Everything was silent, and everyone stared at Hawke. So, she did exactly what Hawke would do, "What the hell are you staring at?" She called, "Go back to your drinks, you pathetic slobs!" Hawke was back.

She then walked over to the bar, sat down between Varric and Isabela, and asked Corff to get her some food. It didn't matter that she was in incredibly revealing bedroom attire, not a single patron questioned her, because they all knew it would land them with broken arms and missing teeth.

Varric tilted his head to the side, scrunched his eyebrows together, then slowly asked, "What the fuck just happened?"

Hawke leaned back a little, shrugged and said "I came out to ask for some food."

It was quiet for a moment, then both Varric and Isabela bust up laughing. It wasn't even because it was all that funny, but because they had their friend back.

"Are you going to apologize to him? After he cools down anyway, you were kind of a total bitch." Isabela questioned after Hawke started into her shitty tavern meal.

"Fuck no, what the hell did I do wrong?"

"You told him he was still a slave." Isabela reminded.

"Hey, I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. If you wanna go throw him a pity-party, be my guest, but I'm not saying I'm sorry when I'm not."

They were quiet for an awkward few seconds while Hawke chewed something that was probably supposed to be meat. Varric finally spoke up, "You could always apologize for hurting him, you may not be sorry for how, but even you can't be that mean, especially not to him."

Hawke dropped her fork on her plate and glared at Varric, "You're a bastard, you know that? Got me thinking about feelings and shit. Ugh." She shook her head, "Fine, I'll try. No promises."

Hawke ate and they drank for a couple minutes, none of them really said anything, until Anders walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her leaning against the bar, and she noticed him immediately. "You can stare at my ass as long as you want, but if you say one fucking word about what I'm wearing I will kick you in the balls so hard you'll pass out and wake up in the Void."

He straightened up, "Am I allowed to ask why you're wearing that?"

"No. It's funnier if you don't know." Hawke answered.

"I suppose." And Anders said nothing more on the subject, but he did try his damnedest to commit the garment to memory. "Are you, you again? Or is this temporary?"

"Of course I'm me, who the hell else would I be?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Anders replied.

"I'm fine, Anders, I'm not going to let myself be controlled by something that happened a lifetime ago. I grieved, it's over." Hawke had a moment of seriousness.

"Good to hear." Anders was still skeptical though.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Isabela inquired, he was supposed to be in the clinic all day.

"I was going up to talk to Aveline about getting some leniency from the Templars, if she could help at all, and heard some woman talking about 'that gorgeous, brooding elf' being yelled at by 'that Hawke slut'. I just had to come in and check."

"I'm always telling him he has fans, never believes me..." Isabela sighed.

"So... it did happen?" Anders asked.

"Yep." Hawke nodded, nonchalant.

"Wait, you aren't mad about some woman calling you a slut?" Anders was quite surprised.

"Well, uh, no, because I actually do look like a slut today." Hawke said, as though it should be rather obvious.

"Fair point..." Anders trailed off.

Everything was back to normal, the group talked, they laughed, Hawke still didn't like Anders all that much, and Anders, despite how stupid it was, still had a thing for Hawke even though he was well aware it would never happen, but they both acted like neither was so.

"Alright," Hawke said after about an hour of meaningless conversations, "I have to ask, how long was I out for? I glanced under my bed before I headed out here and found a copious amount of bottles."

"Two weeks." Varric nodded in reply.

"Wait, seriously? You're shitting me."

"I shit you not."

Hawke stopped to contemplate this momentarily before she spoke, "Awesome."

"Awesome? You think that's awesome?" Anders mimicked her reply.

"Well obviously. It totally beats my blackout drunk record into the ground, best I had before this was six days. I will admit though, I woke up to a much better story that time." Hawke seemed to be recalling a rather fond memory.

"Oh?" Varric said, looking for an explanation.

"Are you talking about that time when we stopped over Antiva?" Isabela asked with a sly smile.

"Indeed I am." Hawke nodded.

"Explain, now." Varric demanded.

Isabela laughed, "She left me alone, holed up in a shitty excuse for an inn with nothing but a dagger, my underwear, and an oddly large amount of bread. She stole my clothes to 'fake my death' because the Crows were after me or some other ridiculous shit like that. Of course, she was drunk off her ass and I figured she'd be back in a few hours, but no, she comes back six whole days later and the first thing she says is 'I don't know who the fuck I killed, but they had these crazy looking moon things on their belts, and I'm pretty sure we need to leave right fucking now.' I just about pissed myself laughing."

Varric cracked up, but Anders had no idea what was so funny. "Did you ever figure out who you killed?" He asked Hawke.

"Oh, of course. When I woke up I was in a rather shady looking warehouse surrounded by corpses, I had a note in my pocket telling me where Isabela was, so I went to tell her what happened and she just fucking laughs at me and goes 'Were the moon things blue?' I was like, yeah, the moon things were blue, what the hell does that have to do with anything? And she says 'We don't need to leave, we need to ask for a reward, you just exterminated a cult.' So we did, my prize got us by for a whole month."

"A cult?"

"Yes, Anders, a cult. Blood magic and virgin sacrifices, the whole shebang." Hawke said over a glass of alcohol that nobody knew the origins of, and no one dared question.

"I heard about that!" Varric exclaimed, piecing something together, "A buddy of mine said that he ran into to some drunk-ass lady with sword as big as she was running around asking about some nasty cult, and then bang, two days later they're all dead! I thought it was total shit!"

"Well, Varric, I shit you not." Hawke mocked his previous statement.

"And you don't remember a damn thing?" Varric asked for verification.

"Not a one. I remember barricading Isabela in a room, then I woke up thinking I massacred a bunch of pompous looking nobles." She confirmed.

"I'm telling everyone about this, whether they believe me or not."

"This is a story I'm actually okay with, so tell away, my dwarfy-friend, tell away!" Hawke cheered.

The group chatted about a few more things before Anders had to return to his aforementioned task and Hawke finally decided that perhaps it would be best to go get dressed. It was relatively late at this point, and Hawke and Isabela were both in agreement that even though it had only been a few hours, it was probably safe to go 'apologize' to Fenris. Neither of them was quite sure how it would go, but Isabela had something to chat with Hawke about before she trudged up to Hightown.

"I found it." Isabela said with a beaming smile.

"Found what?" Hawke asked, strapping on her boots.

"The relic! What else?"

"Really? When the hell did this happen?"

"Well, you were out of it and I had nothing to do, so I tracked down some leads. Some guy with an eye... or a leg? Or, oh fuck it, I don't know, but some guy named Sam."

"Do you know where this Sam is?" Hawke raised an eyebrow at Isabela's vague description.

"Of course! What kind of shoddy, half-assed work do you think I do?"

"Isabela, your work doesn't even have an ass."

"Oh shut up, Hawke. I did good this time." Isabela laughed.

"Alright, do we need to go pick it up now, or what?"

"Nah, tomorrow night, that gonna work for you?"

"I don't see why not, unless the Qunari decide to ransack the city between now and then I think it'll be alright."

"Then it's a plan! Just, uh, what do we do with it after that?"

"Well, if you take it to them you're taken prisoner and forced to convert or become a mindless laborer, so I guess that's out of the question, and we can't really frame anyone, seeing as they know exactly who you are, so... I don't really fucking know." Hawke threw her hands up with her last sentence.

"Well fuck, Hawke, what are we going to do?" Isabela frowned.

"Didn't I just tell you that I don't fucking know?"

Isabela sighed, "Can we run again? I mean, as much as I prefer fleeing via the sea I'm sure we could manage on land."

Hawke dawned a somber expression, "Of course we could, but we'd be leaving the Qunari here to destroy the city, and besides, they'd catch up with us eventually, then they'd destroy whatever city we were in then, too. We can't outrun or outfight and an entire army, and the Tome of Koslun is too important for them to just forget."

"So I'm fucked either way?"

"No," Hawke said, "they aren't after me, as long as they don't know I had any involvement in the theft I can try to figure something out. I'll get you out of this, you still have Castillon to deal with, after all."

"Thank you, Hawke. It means a lot that you're willing to stick around for this."

"I know, I know, what the hell would you do without me?" Hawke chuckled, "Alright, I've gotta go, Maker only knows how this is going to turn out."

"Just, don't break anything, okay? That mansion is already trashed enough."

"No promises."

Hawke's walk up to Hightown was not as nerve-wracking as one would expect. She didn't spend every step rehearsing what she was going to say, she wasn't breaking out in a nervous sweat, she didn't even really think about it. In fact, she even beat down a few thugs on her way there, leaving blood spatter all over herself, which she didn't care to clean up.

She was fine. As badly as she had felt about this Hadriana business, she was over it. With everything and everyone she had lost in her life she felt there was no reason to be all mopey about it, besides, she had mourned Hadriana's death years ago. In all honesty, now that she was actually dead Hawke felt much better, there was no more uncertainty. She knew where she was, who she was, and what she had to do. Hawke had a purpose again.

Upon arrival she contemplated whether she should knock, or just walk in like she always did, of course she decided on the latter. As she marched through the halls up to Fenris's usual dwelling area she noticed the number of discarded bottles steadily grow, and when she reached the last doorway she half expected to walk into a room stacked to the ceiling. Just as she laid her hand on the handle glass shattered against the opposite side of the door.

"Go away, Hawke!" Fenris growled.

"Alright..." Hawke spoke with a sarcastic undertone, "But first, how'd you know it was me?"

He was silent for a moment, "You're the only one I can't hear coming until you're a few feet from the door."

"Okay, bye then!" Hawke said, far more energetic than the situation required. She was almost out of room when Fenris called after her.

"Hawke, wait!"

She wheeled around on her heel and put her hands on her hips, "Yes, Fenris?"

"What- what the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, this?" She motioned to the blood that splayed her face and tunic, "Don't worry, it's not mine, I just don't bother to clean up when I'm by myself."

"Uh... Why not?"

"It's a Qunari thing, we win half our battles with fear, and there's nothing more terrifying than someone charging into a fight covered in the blood of their enemies. Albeit it's a little less effective when you aren't monstrously large with the horns and the war-paint and such, but I'll take what I can get." Hawke explained with a shrug.

"Oh." Fenris said, momentarily distracted from the true situation at hand. He shook his head, "Why are you here?"

"To apologize, obviously."

"Why? You were right." Fenris took on a very 'kicked-puppy' sort of look.

"Of fucking course I was right! I'm always right. That's not what I was apologizing for." Hawke picked a spot on the floor to stare at, she hadn't ever really apologized for anything.

Fenris made a noise that sounded like it was supposed to be a question, "What is it then?"

"I was a bitch, I had no reason to be that mean to you when you were just trying to help, which you did, by the way. Thank you for that." Hawke muttered.

Fenris stared at her for a moment, completely flabbergasted. She was always so articulate and well-spoken, even if half that speech was swearing, she never talked under her breath like this. She was being... quiet. Hawke was a lot of things, but she was not quiet. "You're having a really hard time with this, aren't you?"

"Yes. I don't apologize to anyone, I usually just kill them, but I can't kill you, so I have to do... whatever the hell this is." Hawke looked up at him with an awkward smirk. Fenris was incredibly pleased that she was actually taking the time to tell him she was sorry, it was very unlike her, and because of this he couldn't be mad at her anymore. He still wanted to be, but thinking about everything that had happened, everything she had said, he wasn't.

"Why not?" Fenris asked.

"Why not what?"

"Why couldn't you just kill me?"

"I actually like you. Everyone else I've ever had a reason to apologize to needed a knife in their back anyhow."

"So you like me?" Fenris took a step towards her, standing a foot away.

"Didn't I just fucking say that?" Hawke responded, talking much more like herself now.

"Just checking." He said, placing a hand on her bloodstained cheek. She just about flinched away, but then leaned back to him, a sign of approval. He leaned forward to kiss her and she reciprocated. Despite their dispositions it was almost... sweet. "I like you too, Hawke."

"Good. Now, I've gotta go visit one of my Qunari contacts, you want to come with?"

"Of course. Speaking of though, did you and Isabela figure anything out about that?" Fenris asked, Hawke had told him about the situation quite some time ago, although she had skillfully left out her involvement. She had a perfectly good reason for that though, Isabela was the only one that could know, because at the time she was the only one she could trust to keep her mouth shut. Not that she thought Fenris would run to the Qunari with information on their fugitive. He wasn't all that fond of them even though Hawke used to be one. She was simply planning ahead, minimizing risk. She knew that when everything went down it would be best that no one knew how she had helped in the theft, because she would be just as guilty, and it's quite difficult to outdo the Qunari when they want you dead too.

"Indeed, she's found the relic, we just have to go get it, and then find out how to return it and get Isabela's manhunt turned off. Unfortunately, I have no fucking clue how to do that."

"You could always duel the Arishok. If I am correct he cannot deny a challenge."

"Oh yes he can. In the eyes of the Qunari a hero I may be, but I do not exist. Unfortunately I'm probably the only thing he could deny a challenge from."

"And I fear you're the only one that could surely defeat him." Fenris shook his head.

"You don't think you could beat him?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"I stand a fair chance, but your victory is assured. You know how he fights, you know Qunari tactics and battle form, along with what you've learned since. I have never seen anyone that fights quite like you."

Hawke had already considered this alternative, Fenris dueling the Arishok, and she had nearly no doubt that he would in an instant, but she too was aware of the glaring risk. Hawke was all about risk, when it came to herself, but she would not put him in harm's way. It was not his battle. Even though it was her mess, Isabela stood no chance, which left only Hawke. There was only one way she could get herself a duel with the Arishok, but there were so many variables. Would Isabela trust her enough? Would the rest of her companions attempt to intervene? Or would they catch on to her plan? No, how could they? They knew nothing of Qunari practices, except for Fenris, but his knowledge was minimal in comparison. Hawke knew though that this really was the only option. She simply had to jump, and hope there would ground below to land on.

"Well thank you Fenris." Hawke winked at him, "We ought to get going though, I was supposed to visit this buddy of mine two weeks ago!"

"Is that so?" Fenris muttered to himself as they walked out.

They walked through Hightown down to the Docks as though nothing had ever occurred. They chatted as they always did, Hawke was the only person Fenris 'chatted' with consistently.

"So," Fenris began in a moment of silence, "I could not help but notice that said you used to wield a greatsword."

"Ah, I did! Asala was a weapon much like yours, longer, but lighter. I found one almost just like it after my stint in the Imperium, though it was never really the same. I carried it right up until the moment Bethany died." Hawke's tone was informative, rather than reminiscent.

"Asala? I have heard the word, but I do not know what it means."

"It is rare that any non-Qunari does. Many are aware of a Qunari's connection to their blade, that if it is lost they are no longer accepted by the Qun, but few know that it has a name."

"Asala is not the word for blade." Fenris didn't understand.

"No, it is most certainly not." Hawke laughed, "Asala means soul."

Fenris contemplated this for a moment, "Do you know where your soul is?"

"Yes." Hawke answered with a nod.

"Do you not want it back?"

"I no longer believe in the Qunari's idea of Asala. I will forever cherish that blade, it was created specifically for me, I did all my training with it, every battle, every skirmish, but I have no reason for it now. My purpose lies outside the Qun. However, if I was given the option to reclaim it, I would."

"Where is it? Perhaps we could retrieve it."

"The Arishok has it. I saw it when we were first there, with the blades of the fallen." Hawke spoke of a wall of weaponry within the Qunari compound. To anyone else it would have simply looked like a weapon rack.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Fenris was puzzled.

"It is no longer mine."

"I see." They continued their walk with far less important conversations until they arrived at their destination. Hawke's 'contact' was in a less than ideal state when they walked in. More precisely, he was dead.

The warehouse was stacked with the normal nondescript crates and such, picking up dust because they were nearly never moved, but the corpse seemed rather fresh, as far as corpses go. It was at best a few hours deceased, but the trauma to it was far longer lasting. The man was cut, bruised, burned, his body littered with various injuries.

"Well, this is unfortunate." Hawke sighed, "He was a notorious criminal though."

"This seems a little harsh for thugs, why would they waste their time on this?" Fenris pointed out.

"Now that you mention it... He still appears to have all his valuables, the only people that disliked him wanted money, why would they have left them?" She spoke mostly to herself, and as she further inspected the mutilated body some understanding dawned on her. She swallowed hard and took a step back.

"What is it, Hawke?"

She let out a deep breath before she spoke, "These are Qunari war practices. They knew he had information on their movements, which means they're moving now. Fuck."

"Wait, why?" It didn't make sense to Fenris how one dead informant meant anything.

"His location really wasn't much of a secret, anyone could have found him, and the last time I saw him he told me that the Qunari knew he was snitching on them to someone, they just didn't know who. They left him be though. The only reason they have to kill him now is that he knew something worth killing for. I can only assume that since they have undoubtedly surmised that he wasn't telling the Guard that they think he was telling the thief, which I suppose in a way he was."

They stood in silence for a long moment. Then Hawke chuckled. "What's funny about this?" Fenris asked.

"I just can't catch a break, can I? It's one thing after the next."

Fenris nodded in agreement. "How long do you think we have?"

"Twelve hours, at best. They wouldn't finish him off until they were completely out of time."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, my last minute plan relies entirely on you." Hawke's expression was entirely serious, "Can you help me?"

"I can try."

Hawke spoke quickly, "Get Isabela, tell her what's happened. Get the whole team together, then get the relic and come find me, hopefully that'll give me enough time."

"Time to what? Where are you going?"

"It's best if you don't know, but please, I need you to trust me, regardless of what's occurred." This couldn't have happened at a worse time, even on a good day this required a vast amount faith, but now, when things were still tenuous at best?

Fenris simply nodded in reply, and turned to leave. "Wait!" Hawke called after him, he stopped to listen, "I need you to tell Isabela, and Isabela alone, that no matter what happens, no matter what is said or done, that I am going to get her out of this alive." He nodded again and left the warehouse.

He did as he was asked. He found Isabela and relayed Hawke's message, she seemed confused but soon understood. The two of them rounded up Anders, Aveline and Varric. Anders and Aveline were both furious upon hearing of the situation, but were not reluctant to help. In the middle of the night they retrieved the Tome of Koslun with necessary force. A deep foreboding fell on all of them, the question on all of their minds was the same, where is Hawke? Although, Fenris found himself with an additional concern. He continued to wonder why he hadn't he left her without so much as a word. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Maybe he was too afraid to say it. Maybe he just didn't want to. He couldn't decide. It felt suspiciously like a goodbye, and he did not want to recognize it.

So the group now moved towards the Docks, but on their way they found that they were too late. The streets were rapidly filling with panic and blood. If Hawke was trying to stop this, she had obviously failed. They searched for someone who knew what the hell was going on, and after much fighting they found what they were looking for. A Guardsman informed them that they should change course to the Viscount's Keep. It took quite some time to arrive there, and the battles grew far more severe. Still no sign of Hawke, either. Eventually the group found the makeshift coalition of Meredith and Orsino, and volunteered to make their way into the Keep while they fought off the main force. First though, Anders thought to question them on the whereabouts of their missing leader.

"Have you heard anything about a woman named Hawke?" He asked.

"Hawke? I know of no Hawke." Meredith replied, annoyed at the mundane question.

"She's tall, black hair, bright blue eyes, some sort of face paint, maybe you've seen her?"

"No. I have not."

"But I have." Orsino interjected.

"Where?" Fenris immediately spoke up.

"Cutting down the Circle mages, along with anyone else that stood in her path. She is in the Keep."

"What? No!" Anders protested. The others shared a look of disbelief.

"Believe what you wish, the woman with the Arishok matches that description."

The five of them didn't want to, but in the end realized that the woman Orisno spoke of was undoubtedly Hawke, and when they finally entered the main room of the Keep she was there, standing by the Arishok's side, hefting a blade she had not touched in years.

"Hawke! What is the meaning of this?" Aveline was the first to shout.

She stepped forward, in front of the center stairs, between the group and the Arishok. Hawke stood only six feet away from them. She pulled Asala from its place on her back and held it beside her.

"I stand with the Qunari." Hawke spoke without the emotion that so easily identified with her.

They didn't know what to say, but luckily they didn't need to. The Arishok spoke from behind her, his voice a booming roar.

"Prove yourself. Cut down this evil and show your devotion to the Qun."

None of them knew what he meant, Fenris assumed that by evil he meant Isabela, the reason for this whole crusade, but it wasn't until Hawke rushed forward with a lightning quickness that he realized to what he truly referred.

Perhaps he would have been able to defend himself had he known what the Arishok meant. Maybe if she had hesitated even a moment, maybe then he would have had a chance, but she didn't. The tip of the blade plunged through Anders' throat, decapitating him. She still wielded Asala with deadly precision. Hawke pulled back and unleashed a firm kick to his torso, knocking the standing corpse over.

Everyone was so awestruck that words were lost on them. Aveline and Varric couldn't believe that she had just killed Anders. Even knowing her distinct hatred for the abomination Isabela and Fenris were both starting to believe that she really was going Qunari. Besides, now there was nothing they could do. If they fought both Hawke and the Arishok, not to mention the armada of soldiers, they would lose.

Hawke stepped back to her original position as the Arishok spoke. "You have proven that you are again one of the Qunari. From this day on you shall again be known as Arvaarad."

A/N: I hope this lives up to expectations. I assume that most of you know what Hawke's up to, but it's totally alright if you don't, surprises are good. R&R, thanks for reading, all that good stuff! I apologize if any of you are too upset by the death of Anders, but I felt as though he needed to die, and so he did.

I don't want to bore you with all the details of my title competition again, so if you're interested go check out the ending Author's Note in the "Nightmares" chapter of my other story, A Warrior's Heart.

Edit: Fug. Forgot my line breaks. I apologize for any confusion over the earlier version.