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As they climbed the long stairs toward the Gallows, Hawke found Isabela next to her. "Make sure you're ready," she said, already worrying about what was to come, and how they would make it through. Oh, they'd been in battles aplenty before. They were good at it. Probably the best. But against the massed might of the Templar Order in Kirkwall? That was a big challenge. "I need you at your best."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to let you down." The pirate's voice was uncharacteristically serious. Hawke felt that she was truly seeing Captain Isabela, ready to lead her ship into a fight. "You know … your life would have been easier if you had just cut me out of it. But—you stood by me. You defied the Qunari and fought their Arishok for me, even after I betrayed you."

"Still wondering just why I did that."

"Are you?"

"No." Hawke gave her friend a sidelong glance, smiling a little. "If I'd let them take you, you wouldn't have been here for me to yell at."

"Good point. Glad you wanted to yell at me so badly, then."

"Wouldn't you have?"

"Probably," Isabela admitted. "Look, Hawke, I know I don't exactly inspire confidence, but I'm going to come through for you today. I swear it. When you look for me, I'll be fighting at your side."

Hawke stopped moving and looked her friend in the eyes. "I know you will. I trust you."

"Words no one else has ever said to me. I'm going to earn them."

She squeezed Isabela's shoulder and turned back to the task at hand. Two mages were guarding the doors. They looked utterly terrified as Hawke's party approached—as they should, she thought.

"You—you can't come in."

"Yes, I can," Hawke said patiently. "I'm the Champion of Kirkwall. I'm also Bethany Hawke's sister. And I'm here to help you."

"Oh. You—you are?"

"I am."

They looked at each other, conferring worriedly, before stepping aside and letting her through.

"If those are the best they've got, we're all doomed," Varric whispered to Hawke as they made their way down the passages.

"Likely not the best, but probably indicative of how most of the mages are feeling. I doubt they've all gone through their Harrowing, either, so we may lose some to demons in the course of the fight."

"Always so cheerful to talk to you," he grumbled.

Merrill, on his other side, spoke up suddenly. "I feel like I'm forgetting something. Or like there's more to do. Or …"

"It'll be all right, Daisy."

"Will it?" She peered down at him curiously. "Does all this seem like a dream to you, too?"

"More like a nightmare."

Hawke glanced at Varric with concern. She wished she was able to give him a chance to get his feelings about Anders straight in his head before they leaped into battle, but there was no time. Not now. Maybe later, if they were lucky. So, for his sake and her own, she tried for her old grin. "Any moment now, I'll look down and see I have no pants on."

Merrill giggled. "The Champion of Kirkwall going into battle naked. Why can't I ever have that dream?"

"You're welcome to it," Hawke said dryly.

Next to her, Varric choked, and this time her smile was genuine. That should distract him. At least, she hoped it would.

"Hawke. Before we go, I …"

She really didn't want to get into this with Merrill. Not now. No sappy goodbyes between two people who had never agreed with each other to begin with. Briskly, she said, "Haven't I told you that you worry too much? We'll be fine. Come on."

The mages were barricaded behind a pair of massive wood doors. When Hawke knocked, the sound echoed down the corridor.

As they waited for someone to open the door, Fenris made his way to Hawke's side. He snorted, watching the doors. "Here I am, about to defend these mages in hopeless battle. What is it about you, Hawke? You lead me to very strange places."

"My sparkling personality? Besides, this isn't so strange. What's one more life or death battle?"

"An excellent point. I have rather last count. Then … let me say one more thing, in case it's the last."

"Fenris …"

"No, Hawke, please. You are—a good friend. The only one I have ever had. It is now, and has been, an honor to fight at your side."

Tears sprang to her eyes. If Fenris thought this was the end—maybe it was. Nothing less would have moved him to be so open. "Thank you."

He gave a slow, grave nod. "Now the battle awaits us. Na via lerno victoria. Only the living know victory."

"I don't know about you, but I intend to know some victory today," she said grimly as the doors began to swing ponderously open.

The quirk at the corner of Fenris's mouth was the closest he came to smiling. "If you insist."

"I do." She gestured for him to enter the chamber first, and he did so, not without a worried glance around him. Hawke was grateful for the stalwart support that led him into one of the last places he would have wanted to be, and all because he trusted her.

She hoped she would be worthy of that trust.

"Hawke." Varric's strong hand closed on hers, holding her there in the corridor with him while the others went through the doorway. "Nervous?"

"We've been in hundreds of battles. This is no different."

"Yes, it is." He shook his head. "At least one of us can pretend to be confident."

"It's what I do."

"It is, at that." Varric cleared his throat. "You know me, Hawke, I'm not one for long goodbyes."

"Then don't say any. Wherever I go, I'm dragging you with me." She wished she believed she could.

"Just like you always do. I'm … I'm not sure we should be doing this," he admitted, "helping dangerous people run amok. But I'm with you."

"You're always with me," she said softly. "You always will be. Varric-"

"Not now."

"Later, then. Promise me."

"I … I promise."

Mina held his gaze, hoping he knew she intended to hold him to that. "It's been an honor, Varric."

"The greatest adventure of my life."

She took a deep breath, then turned toward the doors. "All right. Let's go meet destiny."