Notes: This is my first attempt at a Dragon Age fanfic, and I must apologize for any mistakes I make. I have not written in a very long time, and only since Dragon Age, has my spark for writing been relit. I am a little rusty, lol. I was sorely disappointed in the lack of actual romance between Hawke and Sebastian, and this is my attempt at placating the nagging need for more. I have many ideas for this story, and hope to have many followers. I hope you enjoy! =D

This chapter is a starting point for many things to come. The events here out take place during, and after the conclusion of, Dragon Age 2. Thus, SPOILERS. (Also, I have made some dialogue changes in the finale to better set the mood and understanding of the set up.) Sorry it seems a little scattered! Much more coming soon! Wrote this at 3 am. :p

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dragon Age...*cry* I wish! D:

Full Circle

Anders had sent Thedas into chaos. His destruction of the chantry of Kirkwall had destroyed what little chance there had been for peace, as unlikely as it had seemed at the time. Grand Cleric Elthina, and Hawke, had been dead set on not choosing sides, instead choosing to try and resolve what conflicts came to them with a neutral stand point. They wanted no endangerment to the people of Kirkwall, but Anders and his selfish spirit of Vengeance had taken that choice from them. He'd tied their hands, murdering the Grand Cleric in cold blood for her refusal to support the apostate mages. Hawke was a mage herself, but still could not bring herself to fully understand his actions. How could someone who claimed to care for her so deeply, force such an act upon her?

The world had seemed to move so slowly around her in that moment. Sebastian was demanding his own vengeance, commanding her to put the traitor to death. Anders' eyes were sad, but accepting, almost as if he expected the young mage to take the exiled prince up on his demand.

"No - I will not kill him..." Those were the words she had spoken that day, all but condemning her life to nothing but misery and suffering from that moment on. "Go, Anders...now."

Anders' shock had been apparent, as well as Sebastian's, though it did not last for long. Soon anger followed and the prince was snarling at her. Hawke had not been able to handle the look Sebastian was giving her; a look of betrayal and hurt. "You... you would do this to me? Let this traitor free? After I pledged myself to you as your husband in the Maker's eyes?" He snapped. "He killed Elthina, murdered her in cold blood, for no other reason than not taking his side! These mages must be stopped!" His brows were drawn down over his beautiful blue eyes in anger and hatred. His strong, capable hands, that had protected her again and again, were clenched in fists at his sides. "I swear to the Maker that I will return to Starkhaven, and build an army, to kill your precious Anders!" He spat the word out at her like it was poison.

Hawke couldn't help the bitter laugh that spilled forth from her lips. "These mages?" she repeated hesitantly. "I am a mage...Sebastian. Am I to be killed along with all the others, simply because I do not wish to be locked up? How could I devote myself to the chantry if they would seal me away, make me tranquil, take everything human away from me?"

"Look at what these mages have done! The chantry lies in ruins! The Maker and Andraste both weep from the abuses of magic this day," he seemed to hesitate a moment. Something was fighting its way to the surface in his eyes and, for a brief moment, Hawke allowed herself hope. It wasn't long before it died out, and he was cold. Stoic. Detached. Hawke's heart sank. "The Maker does not condone this action. By allowing this...this...abomination to live, you are denying his will and turning your back upon him. I cannot stand by this. Goodbye...Hawke." Sebastian's eyes showed nothing before he turned and proceeded to disappear.

With her heart broken, Hawke and her companions had gone forward. That day they had changed the world; destroying the Templar order, the circle, taking down Meredith and Orsino. She had even lost her sister, despite her efforts to protect the young and innocent Bethany from the cold, murdering hands of the Templars. She couldn't help but be a tad grateful that her sister was at rest...their world was turning to ashes, being thrown into chaos and insanity.

Everything fell to pieces. The surviving mages were set free upon Thedas. The Templar order, and all the circles, had been shattered. Circumstances forced Hawke's companions from her side, save for Anders, who had been so grateful for her sparing his life, that he vowed to forever stay by her side and protect her, though each day proved a battle to remain in control of himself. It had been almost a year now, and Justice breached the surface far too often these days, especially with the two mages now on the run...

Hawke was doing her best to stifle the sobs building with her chest, her shoulders heaving with the effort as she huddled in her temporary home. The stable was dark and desolate, even dank, as the Maker's wrath descended from the heavens. The storm had not abated in days, thunder so loud it was deafening, lightning flashing so bright, she could have sworn she was blind; the rain, oh goodness, the rain. It poured from the skies as though it had no end, as though it was determined to drown the filth of Thedas. She was sure that included her. What had she done? She allowed a murderer free, at the cost of her heart, at the cost of hundreds of lives, and for what? Friendship?

Sebastian...even now, after everything that had happened, she wondered where he was at. What he was thinking. If he was even thinking of her, without bile and hatred building up within his soul. She doubted it. "Sebastian..." she whispered his name on the cold air around her, her arms tight around her mid section. "Oh love...I am so sorry..."

It was this moment that Anders chose to return from scouting. His eyes were sad as he took in her huddled form. "Hawke...?" his voice quiet, hesitant in its inquiry. "D-don't!" the mage muttered back, feeling she deserved no sympathy, no consolidation. "I...I am fine." A soft cough came from her as she wiped her eyes and stood, shuddering for a moment as she once again suppressed the overwhelming emotions that had built up. That begged to be set from within her.

Hawke cleared her throat, and brushed her damp auburn hair from her eyes, turning to face her...friend. If that was what you could call him. "Did you find anything?" Anders shook his head and set his staff to rest beside the door. "Whoever was on our trail seems to have lost track of us, which is good, trust me. Justice would no doubt be eager for their blood, especially if it happened to be straggler Templars," he responded. Her teeth touched her lower lip as she thought of his words, the darkness doing nothing to help her gauge the mage.

"I...see."

"What is it?" Anders asked. His hand was lifted then, upwards, a small flame taking hold within his palm. His boots thudded across the floor boards of the stable as he approached her. His robes and beautiful blond hair were soaked, stray droplets of water falling to take hold on the ground. As he came to stand in front of her, his eyes seemed to be searching her silver ones; looking for an answer to a question she could not answer. Did not want to answer. It was never an intentional thing, for Hawke to hurt him, or anyone. Perhaps that was why everything had fallen apart the way it had, because she could never commit to one thing because someone was always unhappy if she did.

"Nothing, Anders. Don't worry your poor blond head over it, " she joked. In the time they had spent on the run, the poor guy had confessed to feelings for her. Her heart belonged to the royal archer who departed from her life, however, despite his complete disengagement from her upon the sparing of Anders' life. How could she blame him for that? She wasn't even sure now if it had been the right thing to do. "If there is no one on our trail, it may be safe to rest here for the night. The storm is still not letting up. Even if we wanted to, we could not escape in this weather. Especially from Templars..." she trailed off for a moment, now pacing away from him to put some distance between the two of them. She dared not spurn his feelings, if the Maker allowed her some peace from Sebastian's hold on her heart. Maker willing, she hoped to be able to love again one day.

"I don't know if you have noticed in your scouting, Anders, but the Templars no longer seem to be so...disjointed. They seem to have come together under a command again. Or maybe it is just my fear speaking, I don't want the circles to spawn up again. I don't want a war to start again. Though, we already seem to be in one," she confessed with a laugh. "I don't see how it came to all this..." she couldn't stop the tears building in her eyes and her voice. "I just want to go back...I want mother, and Bethany, and Carver...I just want to go back to when my biggest worry was taking care of them." A sob broke free from her.

Anders couldn't take it anymore. Hawke was hurting, who was he to turn her away? He came up behind her, the flame in his hand disappearing as he took her into his arms, her back against his chest, his cheek resting on her head. "I'm sorry, Necroditei," her name falling from his lips ever so naturally. "This is all my fault."

The smaller mage chuckled along with her soft sobs. "Maker willing this all would have happened anyhow. I mean, how long could the Templars and mages have resisted the war they felt within? It was only a matter of time. We only progressed things." Anders chuckled in response. "You got me there." He admitted. "Come, let's rest. We have a long day ahead of us."

Sebastian had taken Starkhaven back, taking his rightful place as its heir. No longer was he the exiled prince, rather he was now the exalted prince of his lands. It meant nothing to him now. He was pacing the confines of his chamber. "Maker guide me, give me strength. Provide me with the resolve for what I must do. I know revenge is not the way of Andraste, but I cannot allow that abomination to walk free after murdering your most faithful." He was praying, his eyes closed. He knew well the inside of his room, he worried nothing of tripping, or falling. Now, it did not even matter. More pressing things were on his mind.

"It's been a year, but I have finally found him. Cullen's men had spotted him once again in the Free Marches with...her." With Hawke. "Hawke..." Even now his heart ached for her, despite the mistake she had made that day in Kirkwall, in sparing Anders' life. They had something he could not deny. Not only did his heart ache for her, but his body as well. Nightmares and dreams had plagued him for days, weeks, months; ever since that day he had walked away from her. He had denied it. Continued to deny it. There was no way he could love her, or any woman, after the betrayal she had made him endure. Not only a betrayal to him, but what he felt was a betrayal to the Maker and his bride. He had loved her so, asking her to join him in a chaste marriage, to take the vows and join the chantry...the very same one that lay in ruins. In the his eyes, Hawke and he, had been true, pure, mates in the Maker's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hawke, but I will kill him," he whispered to himself as he stopped pacing. His eyes opened and he walked to the window of his chambers, looking out upon the Maker's anger. "Maker willing, I will kill him." He knew the anguish it would cause her, but he could not stop himself. It was as if the demons he'd fought against all this time had taken hold of his thirst of vengeance and was amplifying so much, he feared he would go insane if he did not go through with it. If this was what those apostates had endured, he could at least see why so many had turned to blood magic in their fear during that last day.

His heart heavy, the prince turned away from the window and stripped himself of his armor, taking some semblance of refuge in his bed. The covers rested at his waist as he lay there in nothing but his breeches. His eyes wandered his room, resting for a brief moment on the lit fire pit, memories stirring his mind that he no longer wished to think of. Frustrated, he dragged his fingers through his dark hair. With a strangled groan, he pulled the covers to his chin and screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to put the mage from his mind. Hawke...

He must have been dreaming. There was no other way that he could be standing amongst the remains of his beloved chantry. He wasn't even in his armor, which only solidified his belief that this was nothing but a dream. In his shirt and breeches, Sebastian found himself walking among the rubble of what was once his most treasured home. "Maker forgive us, for we know not what we do in your name, but forgive us for our transgressions as we continue through the world under your guidance," he heard these words, spoken so softly and in a voice so familiar, it tore at his heart. His eyes found her, sitting where she could figure was the last spot in which she had spoken to Elthina. "I miss you, Grand Cleric. I miss the wisdom in your words, and even now, I wish I could seek your guidance. Because of my...friend, the situation has only degraded into chaos and I don't know how to set it right." He heard tears in the words and as he drew closer, he could begin to see her more clearly.

Hawke was dressed in a dirty mage's robe, sitting on a piece of flooring that somehow had survived the blast that damn Anders had caused. There were tears in her clothes, her hair was mussed and in disarray, and she had her knees to her chest, her cheek resting there, arms wrapped tight around them. Sebastian could have sword to the Maker she was rocking herself. "Forgive me, Elthina. If I had known what he was going to do, I would have stopped him somehow. I know I could not kill him, but it was you who taught that revenge was never the answer. Even now I know you can forgive him, as you watch us from the Maker's side." She was crying, he saw. Her silver eyes glistening in what he now saw was the sunset. Her shoulders were shaking and for a moment, Sebastian's resolve wavered.

He didn't know what had alerted her to his presence, but one moment she was unaware, the next jumping from her spot to spin herself around. Hands were at her side, clenched, magic beginning to flicker around them as she took a defensive stance, legs spread, eyes flashing. When she realized who it was that stood before him, every ounce of fight seemed to drain from her and she turned pale, she legs looking as if they were losing their strength. "S-sebastian?" His name was hesitant on her lips and he had to swallow hard to keep himself from running the distance to her and scooping up the exhausted looking mage into his arms.

He had to clear his throat and clench his hands. "Lady Hawke..." he started, before shaking his head. "No, that's not right...Necroditei." He had only used her name once, not her 'title' name, and that had been when he had asked for her hand...in a sense. They had grown so far apart in the year that had passed. How could they not when the very fabric of reality and belief was shattered before their very eyes? "What are you doing here?" He asked her, his tone cold. Her eyes wavered and she lowered them sadly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I was asking and praying for guidance...I am tired of running," she said quietly.

"Why run then?"

"If I do not...they will kill him, and more likely than not, they will kill me too." An almost bitter laugh came from her lips. "Perhaps it is better that way. I could be with my family? Really, what is there left for me? Who even needs me?" Her hands her at her temples as she held her head sadly. "I spared his life, and why? Because I am too nice for my own good. I didn't want to kill my friend, I couldn't turn my back on his struggle being the very same as he, and yet, I did exactly that, but not to him. I did that to you!" She was sobbing now and Sebastian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her, whether it be words to comfort her or anger her. "I have lost track of how many deaths I have caused, but I have spared lives where ever I could. What good come from death? But even now I wonder if sparing his life was worth losing you because even after all this time, I can't keep you from my mind, my thoughts, my heart. I lay awake dreaming about you, as I am now, and I know you will never hear these words from me, that I will never see you again, but it never ceases. Never-" her words were cut off as the prince stalked the distance between them and, almost angrily, took the woman into his arms. He crushed her against his chest, burying his face in her dirty hair. She was so small, her body seemed more frail that it had a year ago. It shocked him that this woman, who had once seemed as if she could dominate the world, was now so weak, and so frail.

"What's happened to you?" He asked, almost sadly. He had thought her decision was a dead set one, one that would not torture her this way, but it seemed as if it had done nothing but done exactly that.

"I've died without you...somewhere inside, I've died," she whispered sadly against his neck and before he could respond, everything around him seemed to vanish. He tried desperately to hold onto the dream, or whatever connection he had seemed to have made with Hawke, but it slipped away, out of his grasp, further tormenting his troubled soul.