Hello my good readers! I hope, like myself, you are all in good health and spirits. And if you are unsound in body and mind do not fear, I have another dose of Scoundrel for you, just what I ordered!

Ioialoha: You understand that I have quite the ego and I appreciate your honeyed words

The Invisible Predator: Yeah, I thought it'd be a laugh... And then things went kinda downhill... I remember that swooping is bad,

Without further ado. I present. The story. Which I wrote. And read. And am not spell checking. And posting. And hoping you like. And this is bugging you now so let's get this started all ready for Pete's sake!

Chapter 22: The Greater Good

Well...

That reminded me vaguely of the ship. All bright and shit.

"Yes Sparrow, it was "bright and shit"! That's a very apt way to describe being at the heart of an explosion!" Oakvale shouts angrily within my mind, causing a migraine to form.

Welcome back, I think sardonically as I rub my head tiredly. Where's Jack.

"You should have killed the miserable wretch who dared to lay a hand on us!" Jack shouts, equally as pissed. Fuck sake, inside voices guys. I'll deal with you all later.

I open my eyes and have to wait a moment for the green spots to disappear before I'm graced with a view of the setting sky. I cough a few times, and the sound I make reminds me of a smokers cough. Haven't had that in a while.

I sit up and my eyes widen. I'm in the middle of a field, surrounded by flaming pieces of wood, more of which are still gliding through the air. I look ahead and see the mill in flames. Behind it lies the town, and I can already hear the villagers yelling in panic.

Oh shitballs, what did she do?

I rush to my feet but don't even manage to take a step before I fall to my knees in agony.

Okay, definitely no longer high. Pain receptors working at 200% captain!

Oh god, my back. And chest. And everything. OH GOD, I think I might be sick. Or die. Whichever is less painful. Oh god.

I focus as hard as I can on the healing spell and grit my teeth in frustration and effort. Damn, I probably could've set the whole town on fire a few minutes ago and now I'm struggling to heal the slightest flesh wound.

I manage to bring the pain down to manageable levels - barely - and get to my feet without feeling queasy. When this is all over, I'm going to need a lot of food and a lot of sleep.

"Hawke?" I shout hoarsely. I cough and splutter from the ash and soot in my mouth. Not to mention the smoke. "Malcolm?" I trip over something and sprawl onto the floor ungracefully.

"Ow."

I blink myself awake again and crack my neck, rubbing my forehead as I rise shakily to my feet and see my crossbow, undamaged by the flames. Well that's nice.

Urgh, I feel like shit warmed up.

I hear a groan and gently slap myself before my eyes narrow. Wait, that wasn't me.

Who-.

Elvha.

I look around, and her blue robes stick out in the green fields. I gingerly move towards her, my bones aching fiercely. I see black near my foot and stoop to pick up the Hero Sword to defend myself. I feel a glimmer of approval from Jack.

Nothing from Oakvale.

I notice something new about the blade. Where before, it was simple and undecorated, now the blade is covered in grey runes. I try not to dwell on it, but I know that I've "leveled up", for lack of a better phrase.

I approach Elvha slowly, unsure whether she's dead or still a threat. She rolls over and I gasp in shock, nearly dropping the sword.

Her face is swollen and already beginning to purple. It's like someone took a brick to her face. My hand clenches slightly at the thought. Where it isn't charred black and red. Her slashed side is bleeding heavily where she was cut with the dagger, blood coating her entire front. Her clothes are blackened with fire, and the fabrics entirely burned away around her arms and chest. Her hair is either soot stained or shrivelled with heat. She wheezes pathetically. A few feet away, her staff is aflame, the ash burning easily. The lyrium contained within must be reacting to the flames because the green flames are easily six feet high, spitting angrily as though they were trying to curse me. Must be how the Sword got so far away.

"Elvha..." I say, lost, before I have to stop. What do I say? What do I do? I... I don't know what to do.

"Save your words, Shemlen," she spits hatefully. I take a step back, wounded. I've been called that by others before but not Elvha. I never expected it. "I do not need your pity."

When you have this image of someone it's hard to break away from it. Seeing Elvha like this, burned broken and battered... it's a far cry from the grandmotherly old elf who taught me magic only a few months ago.

She lets out a bitter laugh. "I never thought you'd be that strong," she chuckles painfully before it becomes a pained cough. I try to ignore the blood I see spurt from her mouth. "It feels good doesn't it?" I remain silent. She sneers, and looks to me through her undamaged eye. The other is ghostly white and I know that she can't see. "We shouldn't have to cower under the Templars and the Chantry. They should cower under US! Under ME!"

"Nobody has to cower," I say quietly, but fiercely. My grip on the Hero Sword tightens in anger. "Nobody has to be above anybody just because others are born differently. Nobody has the right."

"You're a fool Jack Sparrow," Elvha wheezes with a sick, bloodied smile. "There will always be the strong who want to rule, and there will always be weak that will accept it. You cannot change the ways of the world."

"Doesn't mean I have to accept it." I say with a scowl. I look towards the mill and my expression falters, softens. Fills with regret. "Why couldn't you walk away? Why couldn't you just... let it go?"

"Would you?" she asks, pain filling her face as she struggles to move. "Would you accept the sting of betrayal so easily?"

I take a breath to answer... and let it go. I think back to home, to Amy and Joey. To how I acted, and how much pain I caused.

I sigh tiredly. "No. I didn't. I should have but I didn't. But I was a child. It was childish to do this, just as it was childish when I did it. Nobody belongs to anyone."

Elvha glares at me and lets out a low growl. "Malcolm, belonged to ME!"

I cock my head and clench my teeth. "And that's exactly why he didn't," I reply furiously. "His life was and is his own to lead. Nobody has the right to tell someone else how to live their life Elvha," I say, my heart tearing itself apart as I speak to my one time mentor. Why won't she understand? Why couldn't she listen?

She lets out a low bark of laughter as she slumps back onto the grass. "But they have the power," she says with a bitter smile. "You're a Grey Warden Sparrow. You, ugh," she tenses, her hands going to her chest. I don't know what's killing her, the impact, the fire or the smoke. Or maybe me. But it IS killing her. She begins to pant as she looks at me. "You will understand one day. You have power... You... will have to make the choices..."

She grunts again. Instinctively, I drop the sword and dart to her side, propping her on my knee. She grips my hand in an iron grip and I give her a reassuring squeeze. She looks at me, and the anger's gone. It's not an evil mage in front of me. Just a scared woman at the end of her rope. The rope I handed her.

"You won't... leave me, will you?" she asks in a small, scared voice. I close my eyes tightly so the tears don't fall and clench my jaw, shaking my head. I let out a gasp of breath that's nearly a sob.

"No," I say in a shaky voice. "I'm here, until the end." We sit there for a few moments, gazing at the flaming mill. Already I can hear shouts as the people marshal themselves to stop the blaze, and also find the ones responsible. "Why couldn't you just walk away? We could've just... walked away... I had to stop you. I had to keep them safe."

"Why?" Elvha asks curiously, pain lacing her voice. "What have they ever... done for you... to inspire such loyalty."

I say the only thing I can to the woman I've killed. The truth. "One day, the fate of the world is going to rest on the shoulders of that family. There's a story that they have to be a part of, and... I needed them all to get there."

Elvha chuckles. "So it isn't even because they mean anything to you. It's because they will be useful," she laughs, and for a second she forgets the pain. I give her a bitter smile. She's right. I don't really know the Hawkes. I just need them to go where they're supposed to be. Like a pawn on a chessboard. Elvha turns to look at me, despite the fact I know it must be a small agony for her. But she smiles wryly, with mirth in her eyes.

"Pirate," she says almost playfully before turning away, towards the blaze. She doesn't watch the words take effect on me. My jaw squares and my eyes harden. I join her gaze, staring into the flames.

Pirate: plunderer and predator. Fitting, I suppose. I'm robbing people of their lives, just so I can keep my prey going the path that I want. How far will I go to keep them on the path I wonder? How many more will I plunder to satisfy myself? I was more than ready to murder Elvha, a friend, to protect the Hawkes. Because they were useful to me and she wasn't.

"Pirate," I agree with a sad nod. I look down and look at the corpse in my arms. My lip quivers before a clench of my jaw squashes it. I can't cry. There is still much to be done. I don't have time for tears. I gently close her eyes, and lay her on the ground. I'm not sure what burial customs are in Ferelden, or even if Elvha had beliefs. And in my plan, I'm going to have to disregard them if they exist.

No one knew Elvha in Lothering, apart from the Hawkes. The Templars didn't know she was here. But they know I am. They know that I'm a mage. And they won't stop hunting. Maybe they saw Hawke with me. Maybe they know nothing about them. But just like with Elvha, I can't take the chance. If I run, they might go looking for more Mages, more accomplices.

I spend a few minutes gathering my things, my weapons, my Warden armour. There's no sign of the pardon. No doubt it's dust by now. Doesn't matter. It would never have worked anyway.

A terrible plan.

I hear coughing and immediately look to Elvha, nearly jumping out of my bones. She's still, as she should be but a few metres away I can see Hawke rising. I rush over and swing her arm over my shoulders as she continues to cough. I bring her to the treeline, away from the mill and the village, and lean her down against the trunk of a large oak. I reach into my pack and produce a water canteen. It's a day or two old now, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Where's your father?" I ask hoarsely as she gulps. I take it from her after a few gulps and take a small swig myself. She'll make herself sick.

"He... I..." She mumbles incoherently. She's most likely in shock. Poor lass. It's not easy getting used to explosions if you don't expect them. Even less when it's most likely your first one. I cast my eyes behind me and spot a dark patch among the grass. Guessing it's probably Malcolm, I move towards it.

Night vision doesn't count for shit when you have the towering inferno blazing in your peripheral.

I turns out to be Hawke, and I sigh in relief as he starts coughing. I lay him next to his daughter and pass him the canteen from Hawke's numb hands. Malcolm gulps like a man dying of thirst, but I stop him as well. Don't want him to drown.

I take a look at them and nod in approval. No burns. A bit soot stained, and everyone's a bit smoked out but all in all we're okay. We're alive.

"Malcolm..." I say calmly. When he stares ahead I click my fingers to get his attention. "Malcolm? You with me buddy?" He nods and I nod back. "You have to go home now Hawke. The Templars will be coming. It's not safe for you both here."

"What about you?" he asks, and he almost sounds like male Hawke. I smile, a bitter, tired smirk.

"I'll be okay. Keep this safe for me?" I pass his my pack and weapons. He takes them and nods, using the tree for support as he rises to his feet. He picks up his daughter like I did and begins to walk away. I'm about to turn when he calls my name.

"Sparrow," he says, his voice soft. I look at him, and see his eyes twinkling in the light. I might not be the only who's holding back tears. "Thank you," he says simply. I nod at him and turn away, my shoulders squared as I stalk back to my grim duty.

A Hero indeed.

With that done, I return to Elvha. She looks almost peaceful in death, nothing like the vision of rage she was less than an hour ago. I hold onto my memories of her, of the patient teacher, the nosey old lady who could feel the chill in her bones. But the mask of rage keeps popping in there as I raise a hand.

I blink away tears as my arm falters several times. I don't want to do this. I don't want to. But I have to. I have to. It's not about what I want to do. It's about what I need to do.

I straighten my back and arm, head held high. "Fuck, it shouldn't be this hard. You tried to kill me. You were gonna murder the Hawkes. I... I shouldn't care," I say angrily. But my rage leaves me, my mind calms and I raise my arm again. "But I do. I always care. I hope the next life is kinder to you, Elvha," I say quietly. I take a sniff and blink away my tears. "Thank you for everything you taught me. I don't know if it means anything to you," I never bothered to learn if she could speak Dalish. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. " But Dareth shiral, Hahren. Sleep well hen."

I snap my fingers and Elvha's body is consumed by flames in seconds. I sweep my hands up, and the flames billow a dozen feet into the air. Somebody would have seen it.

Within a minute, I hear yelling and trampling as Templars race towards me, along with angry villagers.

I'll have to figure out how to escape the Templars later, right now I don't have the energy. I don't have the morale. It's been a bad day. I've lost my teacher, my status, my weapons and even my clothes. Hell, I even lost my mind for a while back there. And I'm about to lose my freedom.

But, let's look at the positives. I succeeded. The Hawkes are safe. I did it.

I take a look up at the sky. Orange skies are giving way to deep night blue, but I smile as I see the pink clouds.

Pink sky at night, Shepards delight.

I'm still smiling softly when the Templars approach me, and one bashes me over the head and I fall into darkness.

"So you are leaving us." Oakvale says, his tone much softer than it was before. It's more an acknowledgement than a question.

"I doubted the Circle will allow me to keep weapons, especially ones that reek with magic like you guys," I say with a shrug. The dark landscape of my mind is different than usual. I'm sat down with a camp fire in front of me. About a third of the way around is Oakvale in a titanic set of Archon armour, looking like the Iron Giant's smaller cousin. Another third around is Blades, looking unreadable behind that mask.

"She spoke the truth, for a traitor. We should rule, tis only fitting." Jack says angrily I glare at him, and wait for him to back down. He does after a long minute, with a shake of his head and a tsk noise.

"I'm done..." I say quietly, before I continue. "I'm done trying to be clever, and trying to be peaceful. This whole time all it's got me is more trouble than I'm worth. Thedas doesn't need me to be a philosopher. It needs me to be a warrior.

"Sparrow..." Oakvale says with trepidation, with a slight shake of his head. "Once you start down this path, you will not be able to leave it. Your soul will be stained with the result of your actions."

I snort, a harsh sound in this inner world of mine. "If not me, who?" I quote from something I can't remember. Something back home. "Besides, my soul is already soiled, tainted. I'm already everything I hoped not to be. I just want this whole nightmare to end. Before I go home, and I will go home, I need to deal with the Crawler. And I need to prepare Ferelden, or at least Duncan, for the Blight. And to do that... I need to be stronger. I have to be better."

"I wonder..." Jack starts, his voice dripping with honey. "How long do you think your morals will last? No man ever rose to power, inside or our, without blood being shed."

I take a few moments to respond. "The ends will justify the means," I respond simply.

There's silence among my merry men and I stare into the flames. I see the mill, and I see Elvha. "I don't know when I'll be back to collect you guys. It could be a while. But when I'm back... We'll focus on the Crawler. We'll put it down for good, if I'm strong enough. If not, we MAKE me strong enough. Okay?"

There's silence from my mind room-mates. I don't break it. My insides are being chewed up and my mind is still reeling. How did everything get so fucked so quick.

I lean myself back, immersing myself in the blackness of my head - and really, that's a bad sign in itself isn't it.

I'm not going home. Not really. Not that daft little boy who thought he could swan about and everything would be okay. Actions have consequences. We all pay our debts, one day. And when my debt is paid whatever I am will make it's way back to where he used to be, and try and put all of this behind him. And maybe it'll be okay. Maybe the monster that's coming won't be as bad as I think. Maybe when I'm gone... it'll be okay.

But before I go... There will be blood.

Is that dark? Is that ominous? Let me know your thoughts and feelings my fanficing friends. Until next time