Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since I've posted an update. I took a break from writing any new chapters so I could focus on rewriting the posted ones. I wasn't happy with a lot of what I had written, as it wasn't up to par with my usual work, since this is my first fan fiction and I was struggling to find my own voice among the canon material. I'm finally starting to find my footing and I knew I could do so much better with those first chapters. So I'm finally finished rewriting, and am now back on track with getting new stuff out. I'll be posting the rewritten versions of the previous 7 chapters soon, as soon I get them back from my beta. But in the mean time I'll now be posting new chapters, and I'll let you all know when I update the old ones, because you're definitely going to want to go back and read them once I do.

Act One

Chapter Eight

Finding Proof

In the late evening Paden reclined on her bunk, studying her father's grimoire, trying to learn some new helpful spells. Malcolm Hawke had done a lot of experimenting, and often different entries were crossed out and new ones written into the margins. It was slow reading as she tried to make sense of it all, but she was determined to learn as much as she could. Her father had taught her a little in the arcane school of magic—mostly defensive spells and shields—but primarily from the primal school, namely the spells that commanded the elements. She favored fire and lightening over frost—especially lightening. There was just something about the feeling of electricity dancing between her fingers that gave Paden a thrill like no other spell could. She loved lightening. When she was a little girl, before her magic had ever manifested, she used to sit under the eaves of her family's house during a thunder storm and watch the lightening show on the horizon. Her father would often sit and watch it with her, both of them still and silent, in awe of nature's might. Even the most powerful mage in Thedas could never hope to achieve the awesome, spine tingling, earth shattering power that was a summer lightening storm. Nature would always rule over man.

As much as Paden loved lightening and fire, though, in her new life in Kirkwall she had come to see very quickly that fire and lightening weren't always the best choices in a fight if she didn't want to give away her secret to unsympathetic observers. So her father's grimoire had become a constant companion during her off hours, as she poured over the handwritten pages, looking for spells that were effective without flare. It was a tedious endeavor, and finding time and places to practice the new spells was even more difficult. But she was nothing if not determined, and once Paden Hawke set her mind to something, she would accomplish it, no matter the hardship or inconvenience.

She was just starting to feel drowsy when Gamlen's voice suddenly cut through the silence as only it could.

"Paden, there's a dwarf at the door, claims he's a friend of yours."

Paden closed the book and rapped her fist on the bottom of the bunk above her. "Carver, he's here. Let's go." She hurried out of her bed, already fully dressed and ready for anything. She quickly tied her light red hair back into a low ponytail, and then grabbed her staff from where it leaned against the wall by the door.

Carver climbed down from the top bunk and strapped his big two-handed sword to his back. Out in the in the main room they could hear Varric chatting with Gamlen. Their uncle's hosting manners were sorely lacking.

"Good evening, Varric," Paden said as she left the bedroom. "I see you've already met my uncle. He also doubles as a guard dog, but don't worry, his bark is worse than his bite."

Varric chuckled lightly while Gamlen glared at Paden.

"You're all foolish in what you're doing," Gamlen said. "Sneaking back onto the estate. You'll not find anything but trouble."

"Glad to see you caring about our well-being, Uncle," Paden said. "Don't wait up for us."

They moved to the door but Leandra stopped them. "You two be careful," she said, her brow creased with worry. "I'm not sure how much I like this idea. Messing with slavers isn't something to take lightly."

"No worries, Mother, we'll be careful," Paden assured, giving the woman a confident smile.

They left the house and made their way through Lowtown in the dark. A half moon made a little bit of light to see by, and there were a few lanterns still lit in windows and over doorways.

Of course, they were heading into Darktown, and there the moon would no longer be visible from any vantage point. Darktown was the undercity; a maze of old mining tunnels and chambers that were, unfortunately, home to hundreds of citizens—mostly refugees—and elves that weren't lucky enough to live in the alienage. There were no homes down there, but only tents around campfires, or if one was lucky perhaps a shack made from scrap wood and cloth. It was a smelly place, dank and musty, and easy to get lost in.

Luckily Varric seemed somewhat familiar with the main passages, and Paden was very grateful they brought him along.

"So what exactly do you do, Varric?" Paden asked.

"What do I do?" Varric said, glancing up at her. "About what?"

"I mean for a living," she clarified. "Are you a merchant, a mercenary? What?"

"I'm a younger son," Varric answered, somewhat unhelpfully. "It's a difficult and dangerous profession. A lot of us die of boredom."

That brought a sound from Carver that was a cross between a grunt and a snort. Paden suspected that her brother identified with what the dwarf said.

Varric looked back at him. "Ah, so you know what I'm talking about, eh, Junior?"

"More than a little," Carver confirmed.

"Well, fortunately for me, being Bartrand's younger brother keeps me on my toes." The dwarf glanced back at Carver again. "I imagine being Hawke's younger brother keeps you entertained."

Carver scoffed and shook his head. "More like out-shined, outclassed and in perpetual shadow."

Paden rolled her eyes. "Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not even here?"

They rounded a bend and went up a couple flights of stairs, then down a long passage. Paden walked slightly ahead of the others, focused on their mission. Until they came to a T in the passageway. Paden stopped. "Which way, Varric?" she asked.

"Hm, I think we should go right. It's been a while since I've been down here though."

Without a better option they went right.

"So, you think you're walking in your sister's shadow, is that right?" Varric asked Carver after another moment of silence.

"I don't just think it; it's true," Carver said. "Everywhere we go she's the one people notice."

"Well, you have to admit, she is prettier than you," Varric said, which made Paden smile.

"Oh, shut it, dwarf," Carver said. "You think you understand, but you don't. You obviously don't care about being anything other than a shadow."

"But you do," Varric said. "So what are you doing about it?"

Carver had no answer for that, and they walked on for some time in silence.

Soon they came to the farthest edge of Darktown, the only part that ever saw any daylight. It was open in many places, looking out over the narrow channel that led into the harbor. It also had a perfect view of the giant chains. And the clanging sounds they made as they swayed in the wind echoed through the passageways day and night. They were getting close. Varric had suggested the entrance to the cellar would be on this side.

"You know, Junior, you're looking at this whole shadow thing all wrong," Varric said.

Carver sighed. "Whatever it is you're about to say, I'm not interested."

"I'm a professional younger brother," Varric said. "Trust me, the center of attention's the worst place to be."

Paden glanced over her shoulder and saw Carver glaring at the dwarf.

"When things go wrong," Varric explained, "And they always do, that's where all the fingers point. Look at any kingdom in Thedas. You've got people who warm thrones, and people nobody sees who do the real work."

"And my sister is a queen in this scenario? Perfect," Carver said sarcastically.

Varric sighed and shook his head. "Point. Missing it. Ah well."

"Would you two shut it?" Paden said. "We're getting really close; we need to pay attention."

To their credit the men agreed and stopped their bickering. They came to an open area where there were several closed doors. They wandered around for a minute, trying to figure out which one it was.

"This looks like the place," Carver finally said as he matched the key to a lock. "If the cellars go this far, maybe we were important."

"Those are some pretty big cellars," Varric agreed. "If they come all the way down here from Hightown."

Carver unlocked the door and they all slipped inside the dark room beyond.

"Go carefully," Paden cautioned in a whisper. "This is a slaver den, but that's all we know. It could be empty or there could be dozens of them here."

They crept through the first room without incident. A few barrels were lined up against a wall and Paden paused to look in each one. Varric and Carver had to stop and wait for her.

"What are you doing?" Varric asked.

"She's looking for trinkets," Carver said, rolling his eyes.

"I thought we were here for a will or something," Varric said.

"Yes, we are," Paden assured. "I want to look around though. You never know what we might find here."

"She's always doing that these days," Carver explained. "Picking up every little thing she sees."

"Hey, one man's junk…" Paden mumbled.

"Is a woman's treasure," Varric finished.

Paden gaped at him for a moment and Varric chuckled at his own joke. "Maker, Varric," she said, shaking her head as she walked on ahead.

A door led into another, larger room dimly lit by a single lantern hanging on the far wall. Paden paused and scanned the room carefully. She couldn't make out some of the darker corners, but directly across from them was another doorway, in which was outlined the figure of a man leaning against the wall.

Paden motioned to the others. "A guard," she whispered.

"Just one?" Varric asked.

"I can't tell, it's too dark."

"You ready to take them out?"

Paden shrugged. "They're slavers," she said simply, and then unhooked her staff from her back, aimed it at the guard, and sent a bolt of electricity across the room. The guard's body spasmed and then dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks.

A shout followed, and four other men rushed from the shadows in confusion.

"Oh, flames," Paden muttered, and she stood aside to let Carver pass. He drew his sword as he rushed into the room.

Varric had his crossbow off his shoulder in a flash, and Paden sent a couple more bolts of electricity into the room to connect with the slavers. In moments the four slavers lay motionless on the floor. But they had no time to rest, as several more men came rushing in from an adjoining room, swords drawn.

"Looks like we missed a few," Varric said.

Carver charged forward with his sword again, and Paden took a position against the wall as a couple slavers slipped past her brother and headed toward her. One of them had a bow, and Paden managed to cast a spell shield around herself just as he fired an arrow in her direction. The shield managed to deflect the projectile, and then Paden drew energy from the fade, stretched her hands toward the two men, and telekinetically lifted them into the air a few feet, and then slammed them back down as hard as she could. She heard bones crack, but for good measure she sent a few bolts of electricity into them anyway.

Meanwhile Carver had cut down two other slavers, and Varric had been busy with his crossbow from the doorway.

The room suddenly fell quite as the battle ended, and they listened for more guards, but none were forthcoming.

Varric shouldered Bianca, shaking his head in amazement. "Maker's breath, Hawke. You do get results, don't you?"

Paden arched an eyebrow at him. "I suppose I do. Better than getting dead."

They spent a couple minutes searching the room, looking in the crates and looting the bodies of the slavers. Paden made a neat pile of treasures in the corner to pick up on their way back out.

They went up a flight of stairs next, and at the top was another room. "This place is never-ending," Varric said. "Do you even know where this will is?"

"Sort of," Paden said. "All we know is it's locked in the vault, but I don't have any idea where that could be. We just have to keep looking until we find it."

This room contained huge wine vats, and the smell of wine was still strong in the air, even though it hadn't been used as a wine cellar for a few years now.

"That's the Amell crest I think," Carver said, pointing to a fancy shield that had been mounted on the wall. Paden came over to look at it with him. "Mother described it once," Carver said. "Put that above your door and you better have the ties to back it up."

"Hm," Paden grunted. "I wonder what the Hawke family crest would look like."

"The Hawkes don't have a crest," Carver said. "They aren't important enough."

"Someday they will, if you have anything to say about it," Paden said. "And it will be much more meaningful than this one."

"I highly doubt it, Sister."

Paden moved closer to Carver, putting her head beside his to obtain his point of view, and then she gestured before them, as if presenting something on the wall. "Just picture it, Carver. The Hawke family crest on a shield like that. I imagine it'd have to incorporate a bird of prey somehow."

"A hawk," Carver agreed with a nod, which quickly changed to a shake of the head as he pulled away and looked at her. "Listen to you go on; you don't even want our family to be noble enough to own a crest."

"No, but you do," Paden said. "And you'll make it so one day, Carver, I know you will."

"Always the optimist," Carver said with a sigh.

"That's me," Paden agreed. She gave her brother a grin. "Come on, we need to find the will." She led the way down a narrow hall that opened into another large room lined with barrels and crates. She glanced at Carver a few times as they went, happy to see that he seemed to be thinking about what she said. All his life she had tried to gently steer him toward his own path to greatness, giving a bit of encouragement here, dropping a little hint there. Usually he didn't seem to notice her efforts, and chose to remain in her shadow anyway, as if he were afraid to leave it, but still resented her for it. She was determined see that change one day, if only for her brother's sake.

They went down a hall and into yet another room filled with wine vats. Paden stopped short in the doorway when she saw a man in mage robes standing in the center of the room.

He turned around to face them and scowled. "Did that bastard Gamlen put you up to this?" he said. "I knew I should've slit his throat." Before Paden could respond the mage drew his staff. Paden could feel the power build around him.

"Look out!" she shouted, and shoved Varric aside. They both went to their knees just as a fireball exploded where they had been standing.

Paden didn't wait to see if Varric was all right. She got to her feet and grabbed her staff up off the floor. She turned to face the mage, but Carver was already a dozen steps ahead of her. The mage couldn't deal with Carver's speed and fury, and he went down before he could even think about casting another spell.

But just as he hit the floor, several more slavers with swords came rushing down a staircase on the other side of the room. Carver went to meet them, and Paden glanced back at Varric as the dwarf pulled himself to his feet.

"You all right?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Thanks. That was a little too close for my taste." Then he raised his crossbow to his shoulder and fired into the group of enemies.

A few slipped around Carver's guard, since there were just too many for him to deal with on his own. Paden sent various spells at them through her staff while Varric wielded Bianca like a third arm. It took a little longer to get rid of this group, since these ones seemed to be more skilled than the others.

A sneaky one managed to get around behind Paden somehow, and she barely noticed him in time to dance back away from his knife. He came at her again, swinging the blade ruthlessly. Paden used her staff to block his attack, and knocked him in the shoulder and again in the knee. It gave the man pause enough to allow Paden the moment she needed to use a telekinetic burst that sent the man flying backwards into the wall. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. But Paden slammed the end of her staff on the floor with a yell, and a bolt of electricity arced down from the ceiling into the man's body, leaving it smoking on the floor.

Paden twirled her staff a few times as she took quick stock of the room. All the enemies lay still. She let out a tense breath and wiped the sweat off her brow with her sleeve.

"I'm getting too old for this," Varric huffed as he retracted Bianca.

"You're the one who asked to come along," Paden pointed out.

"Yeah, because lack of adventure is what's made me grow old."

"You're not old until you're gray, Varric, and you're not even a little bit gray."

"Strong hair genetics," the dwarf said. "My father never did turn gray."

"See? So you'll never grow old."

Varric could only laugh in response.

They went up the stairs that the slavers had come down, which led them to a hall. To the right, another set of stairs led up to a closed door, and to the left was another closed door with an impressive lock on it.

"That has to be the vault," Carver said. "If there's anything to learn about the family, that's where it is."

"You're probably right," Paden agreed, and hurried to the locked door. "Does your key work on this?" she asked Carver.

Carver came forward and tried the key in the lock. It clicked to the right and the door opened.

Paden grinned and they went inside. It wasn't a large room, and it was filled with pieces of furniture, pottery, chests and other things that the family had once deemed important enough to lock away.

"It's probably in one of these chests," Paden said. "Start searching."

They split up, each smashing the lock off a different chest and rummaging through the contents. The chest Paden opened was filled with papers and books. She began to shuffle through them, trying to identify each one as quickly as possible.

"Hey look, jewelry," Varric exclaimed. "That could fetch you a pretty copper."

"Bring it," Paden said.

She shuffled through a few more papers and envelopes, most of which were old receipts and tax records. But one envelope caught her attention. It was addressed to Malcolm Hawke, from someone called Tobrius. Paden considered that for a moment, and then folded the envelope in half and stuffed it in her pocket. She'd have to take a look at it later. She and her father had been very close, and to have something that belonged to him all these years later was priceless.

She went back to her rummaging and finally found something that looked promising. "I think I found it," she said.

Carver hurried over and looked over her shoulder. "So this is it?" he asked. "This is grandfather's will?"

Paden opened the large envelope and pulled out a carefully copied manuscript that looked very official. At the very top it said, Last Will and Testament of Lord Aristide Amell. They had actually found it!

"Let's just take it back to Mother and be done with it," Carver said.

"I don't think there's any point in delaying the news," Paden agreed. She slipped the will back into its envelope and then tucked it into her tunic. "Let's go."

She led the way back through the rooms and hallways. They met no more resistance, and Paden used an old cloth sack she had found to pick up the piles of loot she had left. By the time they reached the cellar door and exited into Darktown, the bag was completely full, and somewhat heavy. Paden slung it over her shoulder but her body bent from the weight of it.

Carver sighed and took the bag from her. "Is it really necessary to bring all of this?" he asked. But instead of opening the bag to sort through the contents like she thought he would, he slung it over his back and started walking in the direction of home.

Paden stared at him a moment, since his little acts of kindness were so rare, they always caught her off guard. She said nothing in reply to him so as not to ruin the moment.

She let Varric lead them out of Darktown, and while they walked she took the will out and scanned the text quickly. She couldn't believe what she read. "Carver," she said absently as she kept reading. "Mother's going to be very happy to see this."