Hello everyone! Welcome to my first fanfic! This is a work in progress, so I will be editing chapters for errors from time to time.

EDIT 11/25: I am doing a quick edit of all chapters. I was informed by a friend that the italics I have been using to notate inner thoughts does not show up on all browsers (mobile or pc). I am going to put all of these thoughts with - before and after them throughout the story UNLESS it is stated as "he/she thought" in the sentence. I apologize if this seems odd, but these need to be indicated in some way for everyone. Thanks and enjoy!

The wind was warm as the ashes blew toward Marion Hawke's face. All around her, the fighting was drawing to a close. The mages of Kirkwall had won their freedom for now. However, with their First Enchanter dead after resorting to blood magic and the Knight-Commander fallen in the midst of her vengeful rage, that freedom seemed very costly to obtain. Hawke's staff swayed as she leaned her weight upon it. The Chantry's response would be quick and terrible. The war for the freedom of mages had barely begun. But as she turned and gazed out upon the sea, Hawke resigned herself to another struggle, to another's freedom.

Chapter One

"You did not have to join me..."

Marion's voice trailed off as she watched the approaching shoreline. Her arms crossed and laid heavily against the railing on the ship's deck. The city was a beautiful sight to behold.

"Don't give us that excuse now, Hawke! It's too late to swim back!"
Turning to look at the dwarf behind her, she couldn't help but smile. Over the past decade, Hawke's life had changed so much. Lost was the not quite predictable, but simple life of an apostate young woman in Lothering. Replacing it was a life of danger and death and the most loyal friends she could have ever hoped for. A look of pain crossed her face as she shifted her gaze over her other companions on the ship. Leaning against the mast stood another mage, his brow furrowed as he pored over a leather-bound tome and at his feet, a sleeping Mabari. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of red hair and the gleam of polished armor as the door shut to the inner quarters of the ship. At the helm stood a dark haired woman laughing loudly at a blushing female elf. So few they were now.

"Earth to Hawke!" Startled from her thoughts, Marion looked back at Isabela at the wheel, "You need to head below deck and get ready. We will be in port within the hour."

-The air was heavy with the stink of unwashed bodies and smoke as she entered the tavern. Although generally thought of as an "unsavory" establishment, the Hanged Man had become a sort of home away from home for Marion. Between her near daily visits to conspire with Varric and her drunken games with Isabela, she had become familiar with the gossip and regular patrons that often dwelled within. A feeling of unease trickled down her spine as she swept the room. Most of the tables in the center were empty, instead the edges were filled with cloaked figures hunched over their pints. There was only one exception. Seeming very out of place with the filth and chaos elsewhere in the tavern, a young elf woman sat stiffly at the center most table in the room. Her back was to the door which gave Hawke a moment to examine her. Her willowy, almost too thin, form was covered in a dress that was made to look poor and plain; however, upon closer inspection, Hawke recognized the fine quality in the layers of clean fabric. Making one last sweep of the room with her eye, she silently gestured for her companions to enter. Just before she turned to face them, a long stick under the elf woman's table caught her eye.

The tavern door slammed open as Fenris entered, followed quickly by Varric and Isabela. A slight flinch snapped through the elf woman at the loud noise and she turned to face the newcomers. Marion placed a gentle hand on Fenris' wrist as he stood beside her. As her fingers wrapped around the blood red fabric her wore there, she found him to be trembling as well. He shook her off lightly and took another step forward.

"Varania."

"Brother... It is you." Jerking to her feet, Varania took a hesitant step toward Fenris, "It has been so long, Leto. It is good to see you are well."

A flash of confusion came over his face before Fenris was able to compose himself. Shaking himself slightly, he looked at the elf through narrowed eyes,

"What did you call me...? I remember..."

"I forget myself, brother," Varania bowed her head in apology then looked back with a small smile on her lips, " You do not know yourself by your true name. Your name was Leto."

As Varania took a few more steps toward their group, Hawke began to notice a change in the patrons along the walls. When they entered, the strangers only seemed to have a passing interest in the group. Now, they were watching the elf woman intensely with none of the foggy gazes of the drunk. As she tightened her grip on her staff, Hawke heard Isabela and Varric pull out their weapons as well.

"Hello, little wolf."

As though they were a whip across this face, Fenris jerked and took a sudden step back from his sister. A man in the finery of a Imperial Magister walked down the stairs in the back of the room. Malice and power surrounded him and every bone in Marion's body screamed at her to run. Fenris' markings flared as he pulled his broadsword from the sheath on his back.

"Danarius!" Pointing his sword at his sister's throat, he stepped between his former master and Marion. "You led him here!"

"Now, now, Fenris. I am your master and you forget your place. Your sister only did what any good Imperial citizen would." Danarius chuckled as he placed a hand on Varania's shoulder.

"I am sorry, Leto. There was no other way. After you won mother and me our freedom, we were cast out onto the streets with nothing. No food, no money. Mother didn't last a year. When I was found to have magic..."

"You are... a magister?!" The glow from the lyrium in his skin grew brighter as the rage flowed through his body.

"No, Fenris. But she will be. That was the bargain, you see? If she helped me get to you, then I would accept her as my apprentice. I seem to be one apprentice short and your sister has much talent. Now come, slave. My patience has waned and your playtime with freedom has come to an end."

"I am not your slave!"

The entire room sprung into action as Fenris lunged at his tormentor. A scream split the air as Varania ducked under the table to escape his blade. Hawke began casting every spell in her arsenal to try and keep Danarius' minions from getting to Fenris. But no matter how many she froze and Bianca shattered or throats that Isabella caressed with her blades, they just kept coming. Shades, demons, mercenaries. There was no end to them. Fenris circled Danarius as the magister laughed at him behind his shield. Just as Fenris phased to break the shield, a loud explosion shook the room.

"No!" Hawke sat straight up from her unfamiliar bed. Cold sweat drenched her hair and she shoved the blanket from her in an attempt to escape the images. Staring at her from the other side of the small room she had procured at the inn was Aveline.-

"Nightmares again, Marion?"

"We are so close, Aveline. I cannot stop thinking that there was something more that I could have done that day. I... I hope we are not too late..."

Unable to bear the look of pity any longer, Hawke stood and fled quietly from the room. As she slowly walked down to the main sitting room of the inn, the sights and sounds of her memory continued to haunt her. -I will not let you suffer much longer, Fenris. Please hold on.-