A/N: I know, I know, trust me, I know how flucking (not a typo) long I've been gone. Stuff has been happening. THINGS, MAN, THINGS! To the question "Why Anders?" Simple. Because I hate Anders. I said I wanted to kill him, and so I did. Anyhow, four things before we get going. One, I hope the fight is understandable, it works in my head, but I don't know about on paper, screen. Two, I sped the healing. In game, they stand up from the brink of death in like two seconds, and I didn't really feel like a long healing period would work for anyone. Three, sex. I just can't write it well, I'm really sorry. Four, this is un-beta'd. I don't have a legitimate Internet connection at my house anymore (one of the THINGS!) so I just have today to get this up. Mmm, and Asit Tal-Eb means "The way things are meant to be." Alright, on to the story!

Silence. Dead silence. The Arishok spoke, then there was quiet. It did not last long, but it certainly felt like it. In those moments of silence a rush of thoughts made their way through the room.

'What the fuck, Hawke?'

'When we get out of here she is going away for a very, very long time. If we get out of here.'

'Hawke... This can't be what you were planning...'

'You're really doing this, you're really turning on me. Well, then I'm taking you down with m-'

Then the corner of Hawke's mouth turned up in her trademark smirk and she winked at Isabela. Of course, everything became clear to the pirate in that instant, and though she couldn't quite agree with the method she understood its necessity. Hawke wheeled around on her heel and put a hand on her hip, "I think it's time for our duel, Arishok."

Varric and Aveline became even more confused, but Fenris grew fearful. He knew that Hawke could win, but was afraid of the injuries she would undoubtedly sustain in the process. The Arishok stepped forward, "What is the meaning of this, Arvaarad?"

"Asit tal-eb, Arishok. This was inevitable from the beginning, from the very moment I walked into your compound all those months ago I knew that this is how it would end, one way or another. You and I, one final battle. I am surprised you did not see it, perhaps your time in Kirkwall has dulled your mind." Hawke ended her speech with characteristic elegance.

The Arishok let out a grunt that may have even been some sort of shallow laughter. "You are telling me that you knew your city would be destroyed, and you let it happen?"

"Could I have truly stopped it? No, the city could not have forced you to leave, nor could I have possibly predicted when you would strike. All I could do was stick around, I am the only one that stands a chance at stopping you." Hawke explained.

"You know that all we need is the Tome of Koslun and the thief, then we will leave, no more lives lost. Will you not give us that?" The Arishok advanced even further, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"You almost sound afraid, Arishok, it is not becoming of you. Besides, there's also no more lives lost if I kill you." To all the nobles in attendance there was no discernible change in the Arishok's tone, but Hawke saw it. He knew the risk of facing her in battle and dared not underestimate her based on size alone.

"No. You may believe this city has dulled my mind, but it has not dulled my blade. You will have your duel." The Arishok drew his weapons.

Hawke then tossed Asala to the side with a deafening clang. She turned to her companions, "Isabela, dear, can I borrow one of those? I seemed to have left mine back at the compound."

"Of course!" Isabela quickly handed one of her daggers to her friend as the four stepped out of the makeshift dueling arena.

The combatants stood poised for battle, the Arishok a threatening menace who stood several heads higher, and wider, than the light, dextrous Hawke. He spoke, "You are a disgrace to the Qun!"

"Eh," Hawke said, "I don't really need the approval of a totalitarian society." With that she cast aside all connection she had to the Qunari, they were only an enemy now that she knew a better way of life. Then, with a frightening giggle, she disappeared in cloak of shadow.

The Arishok stood in an area of pure light, he was aware that as long as he stayed there he would have more than enough time to fend off her approach. Where she would she attack from though? He heard the faintest of noises in the far right corner and barely turned his head in reflex.

Hawke had made her way to the upper level, silently scaling the wall with help from the corner. She had used the commotion of the gathered nobles to disguise her footsteps and simply had to wait for the Arishok to turn his head, no matter how slight. She did not know what phantom noise he heard, and she did not care. Hawke jumped headfirst, dagger out. The Arishok did not even expect such an aerial attack to be possible.

It dug deep into the flesh of his right shoulder, deep enough for Hawke to use as a handle as her momentum carried her around him. She caught his neck in the crook of her leg and quickly had him in a stranglehold. Hawke's arms cemented her grasp, covering his eyes to deny him of sight. She did not hold the brute strength to snap his neck nor the stamina to face him in direct combat, she had to hold him here until he passed out and then finish him off. With the shoulder wound in place it would not take long before he lost mobility, but even she feared the amount of damage he could inflict in the time it took to weaken him. Maker knows how good Hawke was at taking punishment though.

Surprise is a strong enemy, the Arishok dropped the sword in his right hand as soon as the dagger struck, but it only took him a few seconds to assess the situation. If he could get her off of him, he would win. He knew that he only had these first moments to do it though, before the blood-loss and lack of oxygen to his brain started to kick in.

He chanced killing himself if he struck with his remaining sword so he discarded it. The Arishok grabbed at his face and found Hawke's arm, he pulled and it came free. He kept hold of it and twisted as far as he could, a series of sickening cracks echoed through the Keep followed by a heinous scream.

Though her arm was disgustingly mangled, Hawke still held strong. The Arishok reached back up and grabbed her leg, simultaneously throwing himself against the ground, crushing her beneath him. The shock of the blow did nothing to deter Hawke, as always, she would be bruised, but she would not be stopped. The Arishok still pried at her leg, but he was weak. He did not have his strong arm and he had simply shoved the dagger in further by throwing himself to the ground in an attempt to jar Hawke from him. Hawke was growing weak too, her now useless arm, her entire back side, the claws that had cut through her leggings and were digging into her thigh, everything made it harder to maintain pressure on him. Time was running out for both of them, at this point it was simply a battle of wills. After all she had faced, Hawke's will was stronger.

It was not enough. Sometimes brute strength alone really does win. The captives looked on in abject horror, the groans of the combatants the only sound. Fenris, Isabela, Varric, and even Aveline had all believed she would win, but their hope was fading. Hawke knew that even though not a full two minutes had passed her strength was nearly gone, adrenaline drove her on now.

There was one thing left to do, but she did not want to do it. It was underhanded and dishonorable. It was disgusting. It was also her only chance. As she acted on this last gasp effort members of the crowd turned away, but many could not help but watch. Hawke gouged the Arishok's eye out.

With his eye went his will to fight, this last injury did him in. His hand fell away from her, large pieces of her flesh coming with it. Hawke held him there for a few moments until he stopped twitching entirely, but even so, as she untangled herself from him she still drew the dagger from his back and slit his throat, if not just to be sure. A wave of relief washed over the onlookers as Hawke stumbled to her feet. She was half-hunched and her breath came in heavy pants, but she managed to speak just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Your Arishok is dead. You have your tome. You will return to Par Vollen, and you will do so now."

They did not hesitate, the Qunari army left. The now freed nobles erupted in applause and then promptly made for the exit. Hawke's friends rushed to her side, though they did not really know what to say. Aveline was torn between praising her and arresting her. Varric wanted to discuss quite how she was going to talk her way out of the plethora of legal troubles that were definitely going to come with all this. Isabela did not know quite how to approach thanking her. Fenris didn't really understand exactly what he felt, he couldn't remember caring about anyone enough for it to matter when they were injured.

Hawke cracked a small smile and took the honor of speaking first, "Did you see that shit? Fucking legendary." Her voice was not as loud as it usually was, but her tone was the same.

"It was pretty awesome." Varric nodded.

"Your arm is utterly destroyed, there are giant chunks missing from your leg, you undoubtedly have a concussion, you're probably going to jail, and you're concerned with how awesome it was?" Aveline was ever the killjoy.

"Was it not awesome?" Hawke replied, sarcastic even in her state. Aveline scoffed in reply. The pain was, as Hawke was so accustomed to, more of a dull throb than anything. It would certainly kick in later, but for now she was just shrugging it off. She turned to Isabela and handed back the dagger, "You should probably sell that. I mean, the blade that killed the Arishok? It's undoubtedly worth a small fortune after this."

Isabela smiled surprisingly sheepishly, "Thank you, Hawke, for everything."

Hawke smirked back at her, "Don't say I never did anything for you." She laughed a little, or tried to, anyhow. Her laugh turned into a cough, and that cough turned into blood. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. Fenris instinctively moved to her side, lifting her good arm around him and trying his best not to hurt her while helping her up. She leaned on him heavily, her voice grew consistently weaker, "I'm starting to regret killing our only healer."

"We'll find you a different one, Hawke, I promise." Fenris said, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar fear. He turned to the others, "He probably hit the artery in her leg, we need to get-"

Meredith and Orsino chose that moment to walk through the door, rather later than they should have been. Meredith spoke, "Is everyone alright? A few of the nobles informed us of the situation on our way in." She stepped around the crew to view the dead Arishok for herself.

Aveline took command in Hawke's momentary weakness, "Everyone but Hawke, she needs healing immediately."

"Then she will have it. Orsino!" His name was more of an order.

"Must I?" Orsino sneered.

Hawke spoke up, "Your damn mages are alive, at least the ones you think I killed. They are unconscious, not dead, much to my chagrin. Now man up and fucking heal me."

Orsino did not know what to say, he was not used to being spoken to so brashly. Meredith almost snickered. It was Fenris who spoke, "Did you not hear her?"

The First Enchanter shook his head and got to work, he made quick work of the bruising and the concussion, then moved on to the leg. Fenris watched every move Orsino made, he did not like that he couldn't help Hawke himself, that he had to let a mage do it.

Meredith wasted no time though, she turned back to Aveline, "Guard-Captain, what exactly occurred here?"

"When we arrived the Arishok had slain the Viscount, then he ordered Hawke to kill that man there," she pointed to Anders' corpse, "which she did. To the best of my knowledge, though I do not claim to understand Qunari custom, I believe she did it to earn the right to duel the Arishok. She did so, and won."

"And how does she know Qunari custom?" Meredith questioned.

"Many years ago she was Qunari, but this undoubtedly proves that her loyalty is to the city."

"Indeed. It appears that Kirkwall has a new champion."

"But she murdered that man!" Orsino argued.

Hawke's voice was no longer weak, "Uh, if you take a closer look you'll find that that man was an abomination, I did the city a fucking service killing him."

"Then you have committed no crimes, when Orsino finishes you'll be free to go." Meredith's expression was smug.

"And I have finished." Orsino snarled, "You won't be able to use the arm for about a week, but the rest of you will be fine. Just try not to strain yourself killing anymore mages."

"I'll try." Hawke quipped back.

"Are you hearing this, Meredith! This woman has absolutely no regard for-" Orsino started before the Knight-Commander cut him off.

"Quiet! All of your precious mages would be dead if it weren't for her, so count your blessings while you still have them." Orsino shook his head at her, but said no more. Meredith turned back to Hawke, "Thank you, Champion, the city appreciates your services."

"My services?" Hawke took on a distinctively hostile tone, one her companions knew meant trouble, "I didn't do any of this for your damn city, I'm only here because my friend was in trouble. You can take your title and shove it up your ass."

"Hawke!" Aveline scolded.

"Oh you shut your mouth too, Aveline! You were ready to throw me in prison for the rest of my life not five minutes ago."

Aveline just shrugged, she couldn't argue with the truth. Meredith's opinion of Hawke had soured substantially at her outburst, though she didn't know that for Hawke it was more of a customary greeting. Much like Orsino, she had no idea just how to respond to that. She was the leading authority in the city, especially with the Viscount gone, no one talked to her like that.

There was an awkward silence and for a moment it was undecided whether Varric or Hawke would break it. Hawke won. "Well, this has been loads of fun, but after hanging with the Qunari all night I am disgustingly sober. So, I'm gonna go," she pointed to the door, "and you all can just do whatever the fuck it was you came in here to do. Alright? Alright."

Hawke and her friends exited promptly, save Aveline who had her job to do, and lo and behold, there were the Circle mages, slowly rising from their less than conscious states. "You really did plan all of this out, didn't you?" Varric asked in disbelief.

"Everything but killing Anders, that was just a happy accident." She shrugged.

"So you aren't even a little bit upset? I mean, he was with us for a long time." Isabela wondered.

"What have I told you a thousand times, Isabela? Abominations are evil. Every last one of them. I don't care if it was a spirit or a demon, it wasn't right. Mages are bad enough on their own."

"I know, I know, not all bad people are mages, that whole bit."

"Yes, that whole bit." Hawke rolled her eyes.

The group came to an intersection, where Hawke turned the wrong way. "Uh, Hawke, the alcohol is this way." Varric spoke.

"Uh, Varric, no it's not." Hawke argued.

"Well unless they burned down the Hanged Man, oh shit, they didn't, did they?" Varric was mortified.

"No, Varric, they didn't." Hawke rolled her eyes and continued on her way.

"Then why are we going this way?"

"The city is literally on fire. Do you really think Corff is pouring drinks? No. The only accessible alcohol in Kirkwall, that I don't have to steal, is this way."

"In my mansion, I assume?" Fenris asked, catching on to Hawke's ingenious plan.

"Yes, in your mansion, and if you try and stop me," Hawke smiled back at him over her shoulder, "I'll kill you."

Fenris rolled his eyes, "Oh, perish the thought."

"Well," Isabela said, "I'm really not fond of that fancy Tevinter shit, so Varric and I are going to use this opportunity to raid Corff's storage room."

"Wait, but I am fond of that fancy Tevinter shit!" Varric protested.

"Not today you aren't."

Varric sighed and shook his head, "Fine, fine, just making me walk farther," he muttered, "I got short legs, you know."

"Don't care." Isabela replied, dragging him in the other direction.

Hawke was so focused on her goal she didn't even seem to notice the party thin. She marched her way in the door, through the house and straight down to the wine cellar. Fenris followed close behind. Her eyes scanned the room, and came up empty. She turned to face him, "What the fuck, Fenris?"

He stood precariously close to her, "You aren't the only one who went on a bender, Hawke."

"No fucking way you drank everything, you'd be dead." Hawke argued.

"There's probably a bottle left." Fenris shrugged, though he had no intention of letting her get at it.

"Well, where the hell is it?"

"Hawke, can you stop thinking alcohol for a single minute and just talk to me, you almost died!" Though he did not mean to, Fenris sounded more angry than concerned.

"And? I almost die every other day." She snapped back.

"Not like that, you don't." Fenris said, "That is undoubtedly the stupidest, most reckless, worst planned thing you have ever done!"

"Oh, and did you have a better idea?" Hawke crossed her arms defensively.

Fenris paused to shake his head, "If we had stood together we would have won all the same, and you might not have- Hawke, if that mage hadn't been there you would have died."

"You're- you're actually concerned about this?" Hawke sighed, "I'm fine, Fenris. In fact, I'm great, I feel like I just woke up from the best nap ever. I may hate mages, but I can't argue with results."

"But what about next time? What happens when there isn't healing?" Fenris's tone grew even more heated, "You should have told us what was going on, Hawke! You should have told me."

"It wasn't your fight, Fenris!"

"Yes it was! Because it concerned you! That is my fight. Do you have any idea-" But any further protest was halted when Hawke abruptly pressed her mouth to his. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was her new found sense of freedom from her old life, but whatever it was, it was long overdue and thoroughly unavoidable.

There was hardly any space between them, hands grasping at hair and clothing and flesh will little regard for the blood-stained state they were in. Layer after layer came off and neither showed any intention of moving to a more comfortable room. For the first few moments it was a push and pull, but the silent decision was made that Hawke would take the lead.

She kissed her way down his chest, but was less than diligent in her rushed foreplay. Hawke had her eye on the prize, but hesitated. Fenris touched her hair and gently pulled her up by the chin, "What's wrong, Hawke? We don't have to do this."

She clasped their hands between them and kissed him again, "No, I want to, I just- this isn't a one time thing for me." Hawke's eyes were surprisingly soft as she spoke, "I- We can't go back from this. Are you sure you want this?"

"Hawke, there are only two things in this world I am certain of. The first is that I hate shoes," he cracked an awkward smile, "and the second is that I am completely incapable of staying away from you."

"Then let's fucking do this." Hawke let out a full on chuckle as their mouths joined again.

They were at it long into the night and it was quite some time before they found their way to an actual bed. It was marvelous thing for both of them, all the cards were on the table and they were totally comfortable with each other. Hawke had trouble taking anything seriously. Fenris was too serious. Hawke cussed far too much. Fenris had a tendency to brood. They were both rampant alcoholics. That was alright though, because they were together.

They had approached a moment of silence, and for a while they were still. Then Hawke spoke, "I'm sorry, Fenris. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing." She still wasn't good at apologies, "I never considered that- My whole life I've done the fighting. No one has ever fought for me."

"What about Isabela? Or Bethany?" Fenris asked.

"Isabela just assumes I can take care of everything, which I do, and while Bethany cared about me, she fought for her son."

Fenris wasn't sure what to say, but he understood. She was far too independent to really rely on anyone else, he was the same. It was fitting that they had found each other. "I'm here now."

"So am I," Hawke said, "in case you ever decide to do something crazy."

"Good." He smiled back at her, he hadn't ever had someone to fight for him either. "You know, Hawke, when I first met you I was certain that you would swear at the Knight-Commander herself if you had the chance, but I had no idea it'd happen like that."

Hawke chuckled, "Oh, I'll bet. So... Are you ready to go again?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Hawke rejected her title. Champion of Kirkwall was not something she wanted to be, but when she and Fenris returned to The Hanged Man the next day it was cheers for the Champion that greeted her. It quieted after a while, but she was certain it was going stick. Champion. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing.

"In admiration for your service to the city," Corff began as she and Fenris sat with the rest of their group, "I'm going to clear your tab."

"The whole fucking thing!" Hawke questioned in excitement.

"The whole thing." Corff nodded.

"Oh, Corff, you're the best!"

"I thought I was the best?" Varric spoke up.

"You are." Hawke said.

"But you just said he was the best."

"He is."

"I don't think you understand how 'the best' works, Hawke," Isabela added, "because if you did, it would definitely be me. Anyway, anyway, anyway, why didn't you come home last night?"

"Because you are not the best." Hawke said with a smug smile.

Isabela whistled, "Oh, lucky girl!" Isabela winked at Fenris but he was far beyond being embarrassed, he seemed more prideful than anything.

"Then I guess something good came of this." Aveline added.

"Oh, Aveline! How are you today?" Hawke asked with a surprisingly genuine concern.

"Fairly well, aside from all the fucking messes I have to clean up."

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Hawke scolded. Aveline just stared back at her with a raised brow, "Alright, alright, I know, I'm so full shit."

"You are," Aveline nodded, "but anyhow, before we get back to business as usual I wanted to apologize for doubting you. You could have definitely done this differently, but you got it done nonetheless. Thanks for that."

"And?" Hawke asked expectantly.

"And what?"

"And I'm totally awesome and you'll never doubt me again, right?"

Aveline laughed, "Don't push it, Hawke."

"Fine, fine." Hawke clapped her hands together, "Varric! What have you got for me today?"

"Back to the grind already?" He questioned.

"Indeed, I mean, does this city ever really stop needing me?"

"Fair point." Varric shrugged. "I've got a contact, Edge, that wants to see you, something to do with you and nobles. I had a feeling that you'd want to get straight back to work, so I already arranged a meeting, tonight in Hightown."

"And that doesn't just wreak of ambush?" Fenris pointed out with only the slightest acidity.

"So what if it does? You really think we're going to have any problem?"

Fenris just sighed, it wasn't like he could talk Hawke out of it.

"Good! Good! Ambushes are good! Means I'm popular." Hawke was quite excited.

"I doubt this is going to go well." Fenris sighed.

A/N:Finally! Finally they're a couple! (Even though I'm still kind of iffy on some of my own dialogue.) And yes. We're doing Mark of the Assassin. Just letting you know in case you haven't played it yet. There will be spoilers.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know how it was! Love you guys, all that good stuff!