Oh God, BETHANY HAWKE. She is so sweet, she gives me toothache. I absolutely ADORE this song, and who else could I give it to but everyone's favourite little sister?

AN; I know 'Maker' doesn't seem to fit as well as 'God'. It does if you say it a certain way. I couldn't think of any other way to put it :(

God Help The Outcasts (Hunchback of Notre Dame) – Bethany Hawke

It was always a risk coming to the Chantry in the daytime. There were so many Templars. They made her shiver just by looking at her. What is they knew?

Not that Bethany hadn't had her fair share of practice at avoiding Templars. She was lucky. She had always had her siblings to protect her. Not many others like her were so fortunate.

She wondered what life might have been like if she had grown up in the Tower. Her brother's friend, Anders, had told her a little of what it had been like. She shuddered at some of the stories he had told her. Yes – she was glad she was free, even if it might have been easier to give herself to the Templars.

Stopping at the feet of Andraste, Bethany looked up into the face of the Maker's Bride. She looked rather formidable in her armour, brandishing her flaming sword like a beacon. But there was something in her stone face – yes, Bethany thought, meditatively. Something kind, but sad.

Staying carefully in the shadows, Bethany looked up through her lashes at the statue. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. "I don't know if you can hear me," she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her. "Or if you're even there… I don't know if you would listen to a mage's prayer." The stone eyes gazed at her in answer. "Yes, I know I'm just an outcast," continued Bethany, desperately. "I shouldn't speak to you. But still I see your face and wonder… Were you once an outcast too?"

She peeped out from the shadows, pacing the hall. "Maker, help the outcasts," she prayed, quietly. "Hungry from birth. Show them the mercy they don't find on earth." She looked across the people praying at the altar, and the Templars milling about. Why would the Maker gift them with magic, then send Templars to hunt them for Him? She just didn't know. "Maker, help the outcasts," she begged, "we look to you still. Maker, help the outcasts, or nobody will."

Stepping closer to the main hall, Bethany heard the prayers and pleas being offered around her.

"I ask for wealth!" asked a small, balding man in fine clothes.

"I ask for fame!" declared a young woman with a thick gold necklace.

"I ask for glory to shine on my name!" came a cry from another.

"I ask for love," confessed a greying woman, holding out her arms as she gazed at the statue of the Prophetess, "I can possess!"

A rousing chorus echoed around the Chantry as their voices came together in sermon. "I ask for Andraste, His bride, to bless me!"

Bethany turned away, tears filling her eyes. "I ask for nothing!" she cried, tears thickening her voice. "I can get by. But I know so many less lucky than I."

She raised her hands in plea to the altar. "Please help my people!" she begged, tears streaming down her face. "Who are downtrodden… I thought we all were the Maker's children."

She looked up to the golden sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows above her. The rays fell on her, bathing her in gold, and she closed her eyes.

"Maker, help the outcasts," she whispered. "The Maker's children."

-0-0-0-0-

Hope I did that justice. Lol.

AN: I've recently been scrolling through the Dragon Age communities here of , and I've found one of my favourites. It's called 'Shiny Happy People', and, like this, concentrates on the light-hearted side of DA. If anyone is looking for more parodies, I'd direct you there. :D

Up Next: Alistair knows well how to accurately describe his adoptive mother.