Title: The Rise to Power

Summary: A speculative one shot of the beginning of Dragon Age 2 and the rise to power of a certain Lady Hawke.

Comment: I was bored and then hyped myself on some DA 2 material on the Bioware forums. This is the result: a mix of already confirmed facts of game settings and characters and a huge splash of artistic license… for a game that isn't going to be released until March 2011. I know… I must be losing it.

Reviews and constructive criticisms most welcome.

Rating: K

She was a vision of beauty and power; a goddess, untouchable and yet… irresistible. Her weapon was a blur and her magic distorted the very air, felling her enemies like a storm ripping the leaves from a tree.

Blood was plentiful, and it stained the ground until it was like the plush carpets of the Orlaisian nobles, only its makings were of a more gory kind.

That was how…

"Master Varric" the Chantry's Inquisitor frowned with impatience, her tone curt, "I did not come to you because I wished to be regaled with whimsical tales of fancy while we stand on the brink of destruction. I came here in hopes that I might be told the true tale of the Champion of Kirkwall and her rise to power. You traveled with the Champion, did you not?"

"Ah, my Lady Cassandra" the skyer dwarf smiled infuriatingly, "You wound me so. Yet my curiosity is piqued and thus the question has to be asked: if you do not want to hear the exaggerated tales of the Champion of Kirkwall, then why such an interest in Hawke at all?"

Cassandra cast an almost disbelieving look at the merchant 'prince'. "The factions are at each other's throats, their fights merely the simmering before the explosion. Master Varric you know very well that if we cannot resolve this situation soon, we face chaos, very likely all out war."

"And that is why I am curious. The Chantry can barely control this and war threatens to consume everything, yet you come to me for the story of Hawke's ascension, so to speak" Varric sipped his wine from the brass goblet, nonchalantly examining his reflection in its polished surface.

"I am not the only one who believes the Champion can help us. She has done things that can almost match the glory of Andraste herself. I wish to understand the Champion, and in doing so, I hope to gain her help" Cassandra stared at the dwarven merchant with determined intensity.

Varric nodded. "Is that so? Well, you're in luck, my good lady, I will comply with your wish, for I have always been one to please my audience… I have known Hawke for a long time. Where do you wish me to start?"

"From the beginning. Where did she come from?"

Ferelden. More specifically Lothering. A humble settlement where the presence of people was constant, just that the people themselves constantly changed; just stopping off before heading to Redcliffe or some other place of higher importance. In the days long gone it served as a trading post for Ostagar but it had grown somewhat since then.

That was how I met Hawke. She lived there, and since I was a merchant, it was inevitable I was to pass through, especially back then, when the Fifth Blight had festered in the Korcari Wilds to the south. The demand for basic supplies had driven prices higher than any other time in my life, and like all merchants, I wanted in on the possible wealth I could gain.

But I never reached Ostagar. And I doubt I ever will.

Because the Blight defeated the army at Ostagar in one fell swoop, killing nearly all the Grey Wardens and not to mention King Cailan. It was unexpected and brutal, but perhaps not surprising, for that slaughter was exactly like the nature of the Blight.

Of course as fate would have it, the two Grey Wardens who did survive went on to defeat the Archdemon, doing many other great deeds besides. However that shall be for another telling and by someone else.

As for Hawke, well, her beginnings were humble indeed. She lived in relative simplicity, her home a cottage with her siblings and parents.

Her sister Bethany was her close childhood companion and an apostate mage; a puzzle why Bethany never came under suspicion, especially since the Chantry's presence grew tenfold after the defeat at Ostagar and Lothering was abandoned by the bann.

If Bethany was a puzzle, Hawke was unusual; her skills in combat and magic a dangerous and almost unheard of mix. Her family was not rich enough to hire tutors, yet her skills were good and I could see potential a mile off…

"That is how you met the Champion?" Cassandra raised a somewhat surprised eyebrow, "In some unimportant village that was later destroyed by the Blight?"

Varric chuckled. "What did you expect? Hawke was not always known as 'Champion' and such a beginning is fitting, is it not? And did you not chide me for giving Hawke a glorious entrance, my Lady Cassandra?"

"If you mean 'glorious entrance' in the terms of overbearing embellishment, then yes. However I had not expected…" Cassandra fell silent, "Continue, Master Varric… if you please."

"Very well…"

The flight from Lothering was long and not without its dangers. Often had I traveled the length and breadth of Ferelden, but the country was descending into chaos, with the Blight steadily spreading and Teyrn Loghain leading everyone into a civil war. We faced bandits and darkspawn, the odd demon and other unsavoury characters that wanted to no doubt take advantage of the anarchy.

Even then Hawke rose to the challenge, her skills already growing, her movements becoming ever faster, ever stronger. Her mind could race faster than the wind could blow, directing us, leading us, slowly learning to respect and listen to her.

"She was born to be great?"

Varric smirked. "Perhaps. I am not your Maker, so I wouldn't know… but since you are seeking her help, I will tell you this: Hawke never lets things pass by unmarked."

"That is rather a bold statement to make, even about the Champion" Cassandra said with skepticism.

"Her mark on things are not always obvious. Sometimes her mark is because of her active role in deciding the outcome, but it is not always the case; often no action has just the same strength."

"Speak plainly, Master Varric, I have no time for riddles" the Inquisitor spoke with impatience.

"Why did Hawke make one decision and not the other? Why did she say that instead of saying this? Why did she act in that way? Why didn't she act? It is those questions that you seek the answers to, and in finding the answers, you hope to find the answer of the riddle that gave birth to them all, for Hawke is a riddle too. In the end who is she?"

Note: I used italics for the conversation between Varric and Cassandra, because even though they are 'telling' the story of Hawke in the 'present' within the context of the game, to us (the players), Hawke's story would feel more immediate than their conversation and time. Until the end (I'm guessing).

Got to love frame-narratives. Bioware is just brilliant.