So, here it is, the last chapter. I've put the author's note at the end, so as not to spoil anything, but thank you very much for reading in advance. :)

Anders looked at Nora quizzically and she shrugged, equally surprised by the image of her sister jumping into an apparent stranger's arms and weeping, or laughing, volubly. It was hard to tell, and she had no explanation. Finally, the mage set Bethany down and she wiped tears from her eyes.

"You've grown a beard." She said, finally, and Faelan laughed and reached out to touch her face as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Bethany…"

"I've missed something again, haven't I?" Merrill observed, mournfully.

"Bethany, would you like to…" Nora prompted, gently, at a loss for words.

"He was in the Circle. In Kirkwall." Her sister replied. She had a smile on her face larger than Nora had seen her smile in a very long time, "We were...Oh, Maker, Faelan, I thought I'd never see you again!"

"I'm sorry." He said, earnestly, shaking his head, without taking his eyes from her, "I wanted to tell you, but…Bethany, how did you get away? What are you doing here?"

"Let's make camp." Nora suggested. Whatever was happening here, it could be sorted out more easily over a meal around a fire, "We can compare stories then."

~~0~~

"So, the rumors are true." Faelan said somberly later, as the fire sent sparks like lightning bugs up into the darkness. Bethany sat beside him, her hand clasped in his. She had hardly left his side since the meeting at the cave, "I never thought I would see it in my lifetime."

"We were hoping to find a place to lay low for awhile." Nora replied, nodding, "Those templars were badly-trained fools, but we might not be so lucky next time. After what happened, it's not a question of whether they'll come. It's a question of when they'll catch up."

Faelan nodded. His brother tossed another log onto the fire.

"Not many places a mage can hide in Ferelden these days." Taren said, giving Nora a shrewd look, and then nodding at his brothers, "As you can see. Where were you thinking of heading?"

"We hadn't really decided yet." Nora replied, glancing at Anders, who nodded, "Wherever it is, it will have to be small enough not to have its own templars. All of us together make too big a target to risk constant scrutiny."

"You seem like formidable folks. We could use another blade." Bhor mentioned, and his twin grunted assent.

"I'm grateful for the offer," Nora replied diplomatically, and then glanced at Merie, who was nodding off in Bethany's lap, "But our circumstances would make that a difficult prospect, I think."

"Sleep on it." Bhor said, with a shrug, "If you change your mind, the offer stands."

The twins offered to take first watch, and so, bit by bit, the rest of the group found their way to their tents.

"I think you'll sleep with us tonight, little mouse." Nora told Merie, taking the sleepy child from Bethany, who smiled gratefully and followed Faelan back to his tent. Once inside their own, she settled the child down for the night and tucked the blankets around her, aware of Anders watching her, smiling.

"What are you grinning at now?"

"At you. I don't think I've ever seen you around children before. I was just imagining you fussing over a couple of our own like that someday."

"A brood of magelets with my stubbornness and your penchant for trouble? They'd be the terrors of Thedas." She teased, but only partially. They were both aware that there was a slim chance that they would be able to have children, Anders being a Grey Warden. There were practical barriers besides that. There was an excellent chance that any child of theirs would be a mage and that came with problems of its own. There was also the matter of their being fugitives. It might just have been possible in Kirkwall, but now…

"What is it?" he asked, concerned, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. She smiled at him and shook her head.

"It's nothing, love. It's been a long couple of days and I'm tired." She said. She kicked off her boots and stretched out on the pallet alongside Merie, who was already fast asleep. Anders lay down beside her and she put her arm around him, snuggling close, closing her eyes and letting everything else go. In the end, it didn't matter, she thought. Whatever happened, she had the things that were most important to her now. And, really, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, what more could you ask for out of life?

~~0~~

When they struck camp the next day, Faelan, Taren, and Brann approached with Bethany, their packs shouldered.

"We'd like to come with you, if you don't mind." Faelan said, mildly, to Nora.

"Are you sure?" she asked, critically, though Anders could tell she was hiding a smile, "It may be rough going."

"Not much rougher than where we've been." Taren replied, and Bethany took Faelan's hand.

"They're coming with us." She said, decisively.

"Oh, well, then, that's settled." Nora replied, grinning, "So my little sister says, so shall it be done."

They laughed, but Anders knew in the back of his mind that Nora was more worried about the situation than she let on. If it was risky to have four mages in one place, adding two more could only make it worse. But he also knew Nora would never refuse her sister, especially given the apparent relationship between Faelan and Bethany. The quiet, dark-haired mage seemed to be a good man, astute in his judgment and easy to get along with. He just wondered where they could go where six mages could pass by unnoticed.

The season was beginning to change in earnest and the trees in the Great Brecillian forest were just starting to turn fiery red and gold when they came upon fresh ruts left, Merrill said, by Dalish aravels. She had been quieter since the incident with the templars, but would not talk about whatever was troubling her, even to Nora. And so, the next morning, Anders was not surprised to find her waiting with her belongings already packed.

"I don't belong in the world you all live in." she said, sadly, "And this is the best chance I have of finding my own people again."

"Are you sure?" Nora asked, seriously, perhaps sensing that argument would be fruitless.

"Yes." Merrill said, and shook her head, "You don't have to worry about me, Hawke. I've given up blood magic. The spirits didn't really help me in the end anyway, did they?"

Thank the Maker, Anders thought to himself, finally.

"I still want to help my people, to help preserve our history and our culture." The elf said, firmly, "I can do that better among the Dalish."

In the end, at Nora's insistence, she allowed them to escort her until they caught up with the Dalish. Once it was established that the clan would accept her, there were tearful goodbyes and Anders had the feeling that this parting hit Nora hardest of all of them so far. It was hard not to feel protective of Merrill and he knew that Nora felt a certain amount of responsibility, still, for her safety. As they backtracked along their path, he took her hand briefly.

"She'll be fine." He said, "It's the best thing for her, I think."

"I hope so." Nora breathed, and was silent for much of the day.

~~0~~

By the time they reached the rolling plains of farm and pastureland that marked the beginning of civilization, harvest time was in full swing. They were able to hire on as harvest workers for a day in exchange for a hot meal and bed-space for the night, and from the landowner they learned of a small dairy that was being sold nearby.

"I think this is the best situation we can hope for at the moment." Nora said later, after they had inspected the property, "I don't relish spending a Ferelden winter on the road. It's out of the way, there's plenty of room for all of us, there's not a proper Chantry for miles, and it's a respectable profession that won't raise too many eyebrows in the neighborhood."

"How hard can it be?" Bethany asked.

It became immediately apparent that none of them knew the first thing about livestock or running a dairy, but the previous owner had left them with more than enough hay to feed the animals through the winter and they had coin enough between them that there was little chance they would starve. By trial and error and with the advice of some of their neighbors, they eventually settled into a routine and actually began to turn a profit. It was not the work they were used to, but Nora found that she enjoyed exchanging her sword for a plowshare. After fighting desperately to gain a foothold in the city and then finding herself squarely in the middle of one difficult political situation after another, being responsible for nothing more than a few dozen cows and the happiness of her little extended family was a relief.

Even so, Kirkwall still hung in the corners of her mind. On the boat, after Fenris had left, she had decided to put it behind her. What was done was done and there was no way to go but forward. Still, in the deep watches of the nights, when she sometimes lay awake, she could not help feeling that she had fallen from something more than privilege when she left the city. Her choices had never been simple ones, but she had always had a sense of doing the right thing. Ever since Kirkwall, since the nightmare destruction of the Chantry, since seeing the look of disappointment and consternation on Cullen's face as he stepped back and allowed her to go, she had not felt that, though she could not exactly say she regretted the choices she had made either. If she had fallen from grace, she accepted the loss of the life she had built for herself in Kirkwall as her penance and hoped that the Maker, who knew Himself what it was to love, would understand the reasons behind her failures and have mercy.

In the mean time, she tended her farm. She took joy from her sister's happiness with Faelan and from her surrogate aunt-hood to Merie. She took comfort in news from Varric that her friends were safe, even Aveline, who remained captain of the guard in Kirkwall at Cullen's behest. She allowed herself to love Anders unstintingly, and found that they completed each other as well as they always had. Her peace could not last, she knew, but she savored it while she could.

~~0~~

Reality intruded again a month before the onset of spring in the form of a half dozen templars on horseback. Nora spotted them riding up the dirt lane towards the farm as she was returning to the house from putting out fresh hay for the herd.

"Get everyone to the safe place." She told Anders, dragging out the emergency packs she had kept ready at all times since they had moved in. She had gathered them around and Dispelled their signatures of magic in order to grant them additional, temporary cover from the templar's sight, "Taren and I will hold them up as long as we can. If we don't meet you there by morning, leave without us. Follow the plan."

"Come back to me." He told her, and she hugged him hard before shoving him and the others out of the back door, where they would be hidden by the house and barn as they made their way swiftly towards the woods. She looked at Taren, who held her sword out to her, grimly, his own daggers strapped to his waist. It had been months since she had picked up the weapon, and it was both comforting and disappointing at once that it felt as if she had never put it down.

"Let's welcome our guests, shall we?" she said, and Taren nodded, turning towards the door.

Stepping out onto the porch, she watched as the templars milled in front of the house, their horses scaring the chickens as they stamped and snorted frostily in the yard. She noted the quality of their armor, the way they dismounted in unison, and knew that these were not the back-country templars they had encountered previously. The captain moved towards the porch, with a grim, business-like expression. She saw from his expression that he knew her face.

"There are no mages here, Ser Knight." She told him, firmly, matching his gaze.

"I am charged to return you to Kirkwall, Champion, with or without the mage you have been sheltering." He said, crisply, warily. By his accent, he was a Kirkwaller. She wondered whether this was Cullen's order or whether outside powers were finally forcing her old friend's hand.

"For what purpose?"

"That is not my affair. I know only that your presence is required." The templar captain replied, and then stepped closer with a glance back at his men, continuing in a lower tone, "I have no wish to make this more unpleasant than it must be. The Knight-Commander has promised amnesty for your return to the city. I believe he thinks you could assist him in easing the turmoil there. Kirkwall has need of you, Champion. Will you come?"

Nora stared at the man for a long moment. She could go back. She could help put things right. It was strangely tempting, even after these many months away, and she briefly considered accepting the offered amnesty and returning with the knights. But it would mean leaving her family to fend for themselves, it would mean losing Anders, and she knew, even as she felt the pull of her old life, that she could never do that.

She shook her head, "Take my regrets and regards to the Knight-Commander, but I cannot come with you."

The templar looked disappointed, and sighed.

"My orders demand that I return with you nevertheless." He said, and before he could speak the word "arrest" or draw his sword, she stepped quickly back through her front door and slammed it, drawing the bolt.

"It should take them a minute to break that down." She told Taren, urgently, hurrying towards the back of the house, "Up to the loft. I've got an idea."

~~0~~

"Find them!" Nora heard the templar captain shout from downstairs, accompanied by the crash of her front door splintering inward and the flurried clanking and clomping of iron-soled boots on floorboards. There was no way the two of them could hold off six heavily armed and armored knights by themselves. They would have to work quickly and intelligently.

She crouched at the trap door that lead to the loft attic of the farmhouse. Sheaves of herbs hung from the rafters, giving the cool air a pungent smell. Taren stowed the ladder along the floor several feet away and looked up at her, seriously.

"Do you think this will work?"

"We'll make it work." She replied, her eyes peeled on the top of the stairs. The first templar appeared and shouted back for his comrades. She waited, with the hatch held open about a foot, enough for them to get a good look at her face, as they piled into the hallway.

"Come down here." The captain ordered, sternly. One, two, three, four, five…she counted the heavy, armored bodies in the hallway. One was missing. She glanced back at Taren and flicked her eyes towards the corner of the loft where the roof thatch met the floor. The wiry man put a dagger between his teeth and crept quietly towards it, digging through the thatch.

"I told you, Ser Knight." She said, to buy time, "I have obligations here."

"Listen," the man replied, trying to maintain a reasonable tone, "I have no wish to fight you, but I will carry out my orders. By force, if I must. Do not make that necessary."

Taren peered back from where he had crawled out on to the roof of the house among the thatching and gave her the signal for 'all clear'.

"Then I'm sorry it has to come to this." She told the templar captain, and let the trap door fall close with a bang, dragging a couple sacks of heavy grain over it.

She heard thumps and voices from downstairs , and climbed across the roof beams to the hole in the thatch and out onto the roof. She could see out over the yard, the templars' stout horses still standing in a clump. Taren pressed a finger to his mouth and pointed down. The last templar must be on the porch below. She could hear a crash back in the attic. They were trying to get through the hatch and she guessed it would take them a few minutes to get enough power behind them to shift the grain sacks holding it down. Nodding to Taren, she moved as quietly as possible over to the edge of the porch and saw him move to the opposite side. Positioning herself, she made eye contact with her partner and, on the count of three, swung down onto the porch.

The templar was standing in front of the open door and nearly dropped his sword as she swung down on one side and Taren landed a few feet away from him on the other, neatly flanking him. She made as if to draw her sword, drawing his attention to her hands and head and then kicked him as hard as she could in the back of the knee where she knew the armor joint was open at the back, felling him. Taren grabbed his weapon and tossed it off the porch as Nora leaned down, grasping the unfortunate man at the neck.

"I'm sorry." She said, and then bashed his head hard against the porch floor twice, knocking him unconscious.

Already, she could hear the others coming, and so they raced towards the horses. She grasped the reins and swung up into the saddle, making sure that Taren had been able to do the same, and then dug in her heels. They raced out of the fence and down the road just in time to see the other templars spill out onto their porch and find they were too late.

~~0~~

The farm was a loss. They were homeless again, but they were lucky to all be free and uninjured and Anders counted that as a victory. Nora and Taren had been able to lead the templars a long chase before abandoning the horses and doubling back to the meeting spot an hour or so before dawn. The relief he had felt to see her bound into the clearing was immeasurable. It still left the issue of what they should do now that there were templars very close on their heels, and that came with an even more difficult question of its own.

"I've been thinking." Nora said one evening several days later. She had been quiet and aloof ever since the incident at the farm, and Anders was worried about her, "It's going to be difficult from here on out. It won't be safe for Anders and I to stay in one place for long. They're after me as well as him. I think…"

She hesitated for a moment. Whatever she was thinking, it was obviously difficult for her, and Anders reached out and laid a hand in hers, surreptitiously.

"I think that it would be best if Anders and I went on alone." She finished.

"Nora…"

"No, Bethany." She said, shaking her head, brooking no argument, "I've thought a lot about this and I mean it this time. It's too dangerous. We're all too big of a moving target for them to miss indefinitely. Someone is going to get killed if this continues. They're looking for Anders and me, not the four of you. With the way things are, you have a good chance of going unnoticed if you keep to the countryside and stay out of sight. You might even be able to go back to the farm when things calm down a little."

"The last time we split up, I got shipped off to the Circle, remember?" Bethany said, folding her arms in anger.

"I don't want this life for you." Nora replied, quietly, "Even Mother and Father got to stay in one place for a while sometimes. Mother is gone and so is Carver. You're the only blood family I have left and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me."

"Then you'll just have to stay and keep an eye on me, won't you?"

Nora shook her head, firmly, her brow creasing in stubbornness and in pain.

"Anders, talk some sense into her." Bethany said, turning to him and he sighed. He didn't want to admit it, but he had been thinking something similar. It was one thing to endanger your own life. It was another to allow someone else to endanger themselves on your behalf.

"I think it's for the best." He said, and felt Nora squeeze his hand. Bethany snorted, and glared at both of them.

"I agree." Faelan added, after a moment.

"What?" Bethany fumed, whirling on him.

The quiet mage cleared his throat and looked frankly between Nora and Anders, before turning to Bethany.

"We all know that a group of mages attracts attention." He said, reasonably, "If the templars are tracking Anders and your sister, then their presence is putting us in danger…but we're also putting them in danger by creating a bigger, slower group for the templars to track. I don't want to see any of us hurt."

"No." Bethany said, petulantly, tears starting in her eyes, "We've stayed together this long. We can do this…"

"Some things can't be done, heart. And sometimes they shouldn't be." Faelan said gently, "I think you know that."

"I don't care!"

Conversation was stunted for the rest of the night. Bethany refused to speak to anyone and would not even share Faelan's pallet, electing to sleep alone, with only Merie curled up against her as comfort. Nora sat up late, staring into the fire, and Anders knew enough about her by now to let her be alone with her thoughts for a while. So, he kissed her and curled up in their blankets, dozing, waiting. Hours later, he felt her hand on his back and turned to see her kneeling beside him, dressed, armored, with her sword over her shoulder and an unreadable expression on her face. He did not have to ask what she was going to do.

~~0~~

Daylight found them crossing the southern highway and into the beginnings of the rocky wilderness that bordered the Korcari Wilds. It was too dangerous to risk traveling on a main road, and they had no particular destination, besides. Nora forged onward without stopping, almost feverishly, saying nothing and barely looking anywhere but directly in front of her. It was as if she felt compelled to put as many miles between them and the others as possible. Even if they wanted to, Bethany and Faelan could not have found them, not knowing which way they had traveled, and Anders was beginning to get seriously worried about his beloved's state of mind. Nora had not slept in more than twenty-four hours by now. She had spent most of the previous day running, trying to get away from the pursuing templars. He could see the strain in her face and body, even if she wouldn't let herself feel it. She needed to rest, but she would not stop and ignored his suggestions to that effect.

They were picking their way across gully when the gravely soil crumbled under Nora's feet and she fell, sliding down to the bottom. He hurried down after her and found her wincing, clutching at her ankle through her thick boot.

"Let me look at it." He said, and she tried to brush him off.

"I'm fine." She said, brusquely, trying to rise and falling back with a fierce, frustrated scowl of pain.

"No, you're not." He said, and grabbed her shoulders as she tried to rise again, "Nora. Stop."

Her expression wavered for a moment and then seemed to collapse in on itself. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry. Bitter, wrenching sobs welled up from within her where they had been building for a long time and he knew it was not her ankle she was crying about. He pulled her into his arms and held her for a long time.

"It's going to be alright." He told her, when her tears had faded into miserable shivering, "Faelan and Taren are resourceful. They'll take care of Bethany. When the shock wears off, she'll know it was the right thing. We did the right thing."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you." He said. They camped there for the night, and in the morning, when her ankle was stable enough to walk on, they set out for the Wilds, where they could hide most easily and endanger the fewest.

~~0~~

Two months later, Nora found herself tracking a particularly large pod of darkspawn through the Wilds with Anders. King Alistair had declared a bounty on the roving stragglers that were left after the Blight, and there was good coin to be made. They were nomads now, but even wanderers needed money to live off of and it was something to do as they tried to work out what came next.

She would not go back to Kirkwall, ever, even if Cullen's offer of amnesty was still on the table. There were too many ghosts there waiting for her, and she had begun to realize the full scope and depth of what they had set off. Thedas was in uproar, and the Chantry was looking for any way possible to contain the damage. She didn't feel like being a ceremonial pawn in someone else's chess match, and so she stayed one step ahead of the templars and the various agents who were out looking for them. Even her communiqués with Varric could be intercepted and so she kept silent and hoped for her friends' safety, wherever they were. Of Bethany she knew little, except that a letter had finally caught up with her, care of Varric's contacts, in newly rebuilt Lothering. She had not read it, unable to bear what she might find inside, but had stuffed it into her pack and kept it with her. It was enough to know her sister was alive and well enough to write. She would read it some day.

"There are two dozen of them at least." Anders said, as they bellied up a rise to get a look at their prey, "Big stakes for us."

"At ten gold a head, that's enough to keep us in bread and kippers for awhile." She replied, and they began to plan their attack.

Anders was looking scruffier than usual these days, but such was life on the road and she found she preferred it, in a way. Life had taken a toll on her as well. Looking at her face in the smooth surface of a pond, she could see only a little of the idealistic girl she had once been beneath the scars of that last, terrible battle and the lines of world-weariness that were just beginning to show.

"You're still the most beautiful woman in the world to me." Anders had told her, and grinned when she gave him a look, "Would I lie to a woman with a sword who shares my bed at night?"

As they moved into position to start their assault on the darkspawn, Nora thought she caught a brief flash of blue through the trees, but could see nothing else before the fight began in earnest. Anders' fireball took out a large portion of the mindless beasts to start with, and she launched into the fray, carving her way through the remainder. It was not long before she realized there was another on the field, a flash of blue cloth, blonde hair, and steel.

When she had cleaved through the last of the spawn, as the dust and blood mist settled around them, Nora found herself facing another woman across the swampy ground. She seemed to be of a similar age, tall, well-built, with a noble air, but bearing a long, ragged scar across her face. She wore the blue and grey livery of the Grey Wardens, but the symbol on the shield that was strapped to her arm was that of the royal house of Ferelden.

She and the Warden regarded each other, wordlessly, for a moment, and then the woman looked past her over her shoulder as Anders moved up beside her and smiled. There was recognition in that smile. A sharp bark sounded from nearby and a mabari, graying slightly at the muzzle and around the eyes, bounded up to the Warden's side. She reached down and scratched the huge dog's ears affectionately and the animal's tongue lolled out in pleasure. Beyond her, the figures of several other Wardens appeared from the trees and a name was called, though Nora could not catch it on the breeze. The woman glanced at her comrades, and then turned back to Nora, her smile broadening slightly, a strange feeling of kinship passing in the air between them. There was a lifetime of struggle and secrets, hurt and triumph in those eyes. It was like looking into a mirror.

The call came again, and, without having said a word, the Grey Warden nodded amiably, turned, and trotted back up the hill to join her brethren in arms, her mabari at her heels. Nora watched the woman, her soul's twin, her other-self, until the she disappeared among the trees and felt, in some unknowable way, that everything was going to turn out alright after all.

I've really had fun writing this story, although quite honestly it felt like the characters were writing themself most of the time. When I created my Hawke in the game, I sort of envisioned her as a "paladin"-like character, concerned with doing the right things and helping people, the sort of person who doesn't want power or influence, but ultimately has it dropped on them because no one else will take up the banner. In the end, like the Roman general Cincinnatus, she knows she has to remove herself from power in order to let the world solve it's own problems. At the same time, I wanted her to feel like a deeply human character, with all the foibles that Bioware doesn't really let you see well in the game: the fears, the guilt, and the strained moments. The title "Fallen" comes from Hawke's own perception of herself throughout the story, as a fallen hero and someone who strayed from the right path. Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, who in this version of the story married Alistair and became queen while still serving as a Grey Warden, Nora feels like the dark twin, the failed hero. I thought it was important at the end to put her face to face with her complement and have her realize that their stories aren't so dissimilar after all. I also liked the idea of Hawke being a de facto templar. It made the relationship between her and Anders more interesting and I got the feeling from my envisioning of the character that it was a vocation she had considered anyway.

I plan to go back and write more about this Hawke's story leading up to the events here. I'm definitely thinking about exploring her friendship with Cullen a little more, and probably her early relationship wtih Fenris as well. So, I hope you've enjoyed this story and that you continue reading. Thanks!