Freya Hawke was leaning on the Staff of Parthalan, the blade of the weapon stabbed through the stone of the Gallows Courtyard as she heaved for breath, her piercing, electric blue eyes locked on the Red Lyrium statue that had once been Knight Commander Meredith of the Templar Order. She shook her head, shaggy black hair falling around her head as she did.

So much death, so much pain, all brought on by something that should have been destroyed long ago. That damned idol had cause so much damage to Kirkwall, and it was all her fault. If she had never agreed to the expedition, if she had just worked her ass off day in and day out to earn the money they needed to buy the Amell mansion back, they wouldn't be here.

She could vaguely hear her friends moving back and forth around her as they helped up the Templars who had fought beside them, but she didn't acknowledge any of them as she closed her eyes to take several deep breaths. A hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hawke, I can't tell you how—"

Electric eyes snapped open, glowing with harsh light as she spun around and launched her metal-clad, lightning imbued fist into Anders's face, the energy blasting the mage off his feet as thunder cracked the sky. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the Champion of Kirkwall as lightning cackled in her hands, her blue eyes filled with sapphire flame as her face twisted into a rage-filled snarl.

"Don't touch me." She hissed toward the downed man, who was staring at her in fear. "This is all your fault! If you had just been patient, if you had actually thought your plan through, all these people would still be alive!" she roared at Anders. She flung her arm toward the former Knight Commander. "You knew she was getting more and more paranoid by the day and yet you still blew up the Chantry. I may have found that damned idol in the first place, but all these deaths are on your head!"

Everyone in the courtyard stared at the Champion. Very few had ever seen her as emotional as she currently was. She was always so calm, so level headed. To see a woman like that so furious was like seeing a High Dragon who had just watched her young be butchered. Anders was shaking in terror as he beheld his friend, a woman who had stood by him even when he was a massive idiot. This was not her anymore.

"I will not kill you, Anders," Freya started, the flames in her eyes dimming until only the irises glowed with power. At the look of relief on the blonde's face, she snarled. "But I will no longer protect you. Mages like you are the reason we've been locked up in cages for Centuries."

Her words struck Anders like an Ogre. She knew she didn't need to hurt him to get her point across. She only needed to speak the truth.

"Freya…" came the whisper from Isabela. Freya couldn't look at her Pirate lover. Couldn't bear to look in those beautiful amber eyes that she knew would be filled with fear at the fact she had struck a member of her family. Everyone in her rag-tag group knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would never truly strike them. Training was one thing. A slug to the shoulder or smack to the back of the head when they were being silly or stupid was one thing. A slap to Isabela's rear when Freya was feeling frisky was something the Rivaini enjoyed thoroughly. Bethany occasionally received a slightly rough pat on the back when she impressed her sister. But a punch like that only meant one thing: that Anders was no longer part of the family.

Whatever else might have been said was cut off as the ground trembled. All eyes snapped from the enraged Champion and fallen Mage to the cracks of red light emanating from the former Knight Commander, spreading through the ground and arcing through the air…heading right toward Isabela.

Freya didn't hesitate. In an instant, she stood before her Pirate with her magic brought to bear. The cracks collided with the electric blue barrier, causing Freya to cry out as she felt her blood ignite in agony. The crimson energy recoiled as it collided with the barrier, hesitating for a moment before it attempted to circumvent the magic, lashing out to strike the shield again and again as it went. Freya pushed through it as she strengthened and widened the barrier, stretching it to encompass all who stood in the path of the red energy. With teeth clenched, Freya fought to push the energy back, feeling the malice that filled it as she did.

This is the Commander's revenge, she thought as she felt blood start to drip down from her nose. Even in death, she refuses to give in to Mages.

She looked over her shoulder to her friends. Her family. She felt the flames spring up once more, filling her eyes with sapphire light as she roared in fury and pain.

"STAY. AWAY. FROM. MY. FAMILY!" She roared as she poured on the magic, allowing the power to flood through her body as she kept pushing the malicious magic away.

It was almost done. She looked over her shoulder and cracked a wide, pain-filled grin at her Lover. Isabela could only shake her head as her amber eyes locked onto electric blue.

And then she was gone.

Freya blinked as she felt the magic fade. She felt wind roaring past her face. She smelled fire and blood. She heard the clashing of steel and the cries of warriors. But she saw nothing. No courtyard. No Red Lyrium statue of a madwoman. No scantily clad Rivaini Pirate. Nothing but dark stone.

That was when she noticed that she felt nothing beneath her feet and that the wind was blowing…up?

Freya looked down. And promptly screamed.

She was nearly a mile in the air, falling at top speed as she began to flail. Far below her, a great battle raged within the confines of a hollowed-out mountain. From her position, she could tell that the defenders of the White City were vastly outnumbered. However, she stopped worrying about that as she continued to fall to her death. Thankfully, she still had her staff, so she should be able to—

SQUEAK!

Her head snapped to her left. There, not ten feet from her in all its reptilian glory, was a baby dragon. It was a brilliant crimson-gold color, the color of fire if she was being specific. It was about half the size of her Mabari, Argos. It's red-gold scales overlapped like masterfully forged armor, a pair of horns about as long as Freya's hand and slightly curved sticking out from the back of the hatchling's head. A line of small spike ran down it's back to just before the end of its tail, which was tipped with serrated bone, making it like a razor whip. The creature continued to squeak in terror as the two of them fell, it's maw open for Freya to see the small, but razor-sharp teeth within. And yet, her gaze was drawn to the brilliant blue eyes that were widened in terror as the lizard flipped and flailed through the air.

Freya didn't stop to think, though honestly she really should have. She stilled her flailing and carefully angled her body to her left, allowing the wind to push her toward the reptile. The brilliant blue eyes locked onto her electric blue, and the youngling seemed to understand what she was trying to do. It spread its legs wide, its wings open just enough to catch the air to slow its fall.

Freya reached out with her left hand, her chainmail sleeve fluttering madly in the wind.

Almost…there…

Her hand latched onto the dragon's shoulder, just above the wing and just below the neck. Bad move.

Lightning and ice seemed to ignite in her blood, lashing and stabbing her muscles. She vaguely heard herself scream, barely felt her magic surging and twisting as she instinctively curled into a ball, pulling the dragon tight against her leather-bound chest as they fell.

Eragon, Son of None

The battle was going badly. Despite their actions before the battle had begun and how he and Saphira were performing excellently executed stealth attacks, the Varden and the Dwarves were being forced back toward Tronjheim. He cursed under his breath as a stray arrow flew right past his head, arcing over Saphira's massive body to bounce off the end of her tail and fall to the ground below.

Someone screamed.

Eragon frowned as he looked back and forth. The scream had sounded female, but this high up, everyone should have been drowned out by the clashing of the armies. Saphira turned her head back and forth as well, searching for the source of the scream as Eragon looked below them for anyone high enough to be heard of the battle.

There! Saphira cried.

Eragon's head snapped to the back of the blue dragon's head before following her gaze…upwards?

Then he saw it. A person falling from up high, curled into a ball as the tail of their coat flapped madly.

He threw his arm out, the gedwëy ignasia on the palm of his head lighting up like a beacon as he called to his magic. "Reisa!"

The person slowed dramatically and Eragon immediately groaned at the drain of power. Saphira, ever the observant partner, quickly winged her way up and under the person, slowing just enough to Eragon to release the magic and allow them to fall into his lap. He let out a breath as the weight fell on him, an odd-looking spear landing on his leg.

The person was a woman, maybe a few winters older than he. Her skin was pale, her short, messy hair darker than midnight. She had a streak of blood-red warpaint over the bridge of her nose. She had a cute button nose and full red lips. She was very beautiful. And very strong from the feel of her. Even through her leather armor, he could feel her lean, powerful muscle that twitched and jolted every now and again. Her armor was a mix of dark leather and dark steel, the metal forged into spikey plates that covered the upper part of her chest with a piece to protect her throat and her entire right arm clad in the armor, her fingers tipped with vicious looking talons. Her boots were of the same design, overlapping razor plating that covered up to her knees with what looked like small downward hooks on her heels. Her collar was lined with thick black fur, a black hood falling down her back. She seemed to have red markings on her left arm, just above her elbow. A small line of blood was leaking from her right nostril. She was curled up, arms and knees pulled almost to her chest, her face twisted in pain.

Squeak?

Eragon froze. He knew that sound.

Saphira, he said numbly.

Yes, Little One?

Find somewhere for us to land…

Thankfully, she didn't argue or question and immediately banked right towards the Dragon Hold. Eragon could see something red wiggling in the woman's arms, though it didn't seem to be trying to escape, more like it was trying to burrow deeper into the woman's chest.

Eragon tightened his hold on the woman as Saphira dove into the Dragon Hold and came to a halt, her massive frame shuddering as she landed.

With a bit of maneuvering and shifting, Eragon finally managed to get the woman off Saphira's back, with the blue dragon's help of course. However, he wasn't the strongest person around and as such caused the woman to fall flat on her face when he tried to lower her down. He winced at the loud clang before he knelt and carefully turned her over.

What he got for his trouble was a small, red-gold dragon uncurling itself to snap at his face, brilliant blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as it remained crouched on the woman's chest, eyes flicking between him and Saphira as it let loose a stream of smoke from its nostrils.

Luckily, Eragon managed to leap back before the baby dragon took his nose off, and could only stare in wonder at the fact that there was a baby dragon at all. It was the about the same size as Solembum was in his cat form. He would have laugh aloud in joy had there not been a battle going on.

Speaking of which, he suddenly realized something. The Twins were nowhere to be found, despite the fact that they were ordered to remain in the Dragon Hold. He shook his head. He'd have time to hunt them down and get onto their case later, for now…

He reached out with his mind, seeking that familiar song that was Arya's mind. It didn't take him long, and thankfully she was not in the middle of fighting when he contacted her.

Arya, we need you in the Dragon Hold. He said swiftly as the pale woman groan, drawing the attention of the baby dragon, who cooed softly as it lowered its head to brush the woman's cheek.

Why? Arya questioned. You are meant to be on the battlefield. What are you doing up there?

We found another Dragon and Rider. He said swiftly, cutting her off before she could berate him some more. It worked. Her mind seemed to screech to a halt and go completely in reverse.

I shall be there shortly.

I'll send Saphira to pick you up. He looked to his partner, who tore her eyes from the baby dragon who was pointedly ignoring her to look at Eragon. He quickly told her what to do, at which she nodded without question, throwing one last longing look at the red-gold dragon before taking off.

"Ugh…"

Eragon spun around to see the woman shifting ever so slightly, her metal clad hand coming up to cover her eyes.

"Maker, what the Hell hit me?" she groaned as she sat up, hand sliding down her face to reveal glowing blue eyes the color of lightning.

Eragon hurried to her side. "Easy," he said as he put a hand on her unarmored shoulder. "I don't know what hit you, but your dragon seems to be concerned about you."

The woman regarded him with a confused expression, brow furrowed as she stared at him. "I must've hit my head rather hard. For a second there, I could have sworn you said…my dragon"

The teenager blinked in confusion at the woman, who obviously hadn't seen the infant dragon just a few feet to her left, the small reptile staring at the woman with big blue eyes.

"I did say that." He raised his hand and pointed to the dragon. The woman followed his hand and froze as her eyes landed on the red-gold dragon. Her reaction was not what he expected.

"Andraste's knickers!" she cried as she scrambled back, the odd spear jumping to her hand as though by magic as she put a great deal of distance between her and the hatchling, who ducked its head and whimpered.

Almost immediately, the spear dropped from her hands as she pressed both against either side of her head and she gritted her teeth. "Who's in my head!?" she half-snarled, half whimpered as bolts of bright blue lightning began to jump across the metal of her armor.

Eragon rushed to her side, using his foot to kick the spear several meters away as he did. "Just breathe. It's normal to be a bit…disoriented after the Bonding."

The woman's electric blue eyes locked onto his own, filled with a pain he could scarcely fathom. "Bonding…? What the hell did you do to me?"

Eragon blinked as the woman's eyes seemed to fill with fury. "No no no no! I didn't do anything, I'm far too inexperienced in Magic to cast a spell like that. Its an ancient pact that the Elves made with the Dragons. When a dragon hatchling chooses its Rider, they are bonded, mind and soul. I don't know much more than that and as far as I know there is no way to undo it."

The fury faded as the woman's right brow seemed to twitch in annoyance as she shook her head. "That's my luck for you," she grumbled as she gingerly pushed herself back to her feet. Only to fall right back on her ass as Saphira's massive form entered the Dragon Hold, the spear jumping back to her hand as she aimed it at the blue reptile.

"Maker's Hairy Balls, I knew it!" she cried, causing Eragon to snort in amusement at her creative and unusual curse. "I knew it, I bloody knew it! There's always a bigger Dragon!"

Eragon shook his head in amusement at the woman before he turned to his Partner, who was lowering herself just enough for Arya to jump off her back and land nimbly beside the massive reptile's left fore leg. The teen nodded to the Elf, whom inclined her head in acknowledgement before she moved toward the woman.

The woman quickly raised her spear, the blade exploding into brilliant flames as the woman braced herself, Arya coming to a stop in an instant.

"Now listen here, miss," the woman growled. "I don't know who you are or what the twig over there is talking about. I don't ride dragons; I make sure they don't hurt innocent people. So, you can take the baby lizard there," the woman motioned with her head to the hatchling, who lowered its head with a whimper, "and send it right back to its mother before she comes looking for me. Maker knows I have enough to deal with without having to deal with raising a baby dragon."

Arya gaped at the armored woman in shock, Eragon and Saphira mimicking her. The former-farm boy could not believe his ears. He didn't know of anyone, anywhere who wouldn't wish to be a Dragon Rider and fight against the Black King. It was unthinkable that anyone wouldn't wish to stand up against a Tyrant.

The teen was shaken from his thoughts as Saphira growled and stomped forward, the red dragon quickly moving behind its Rider as the pale-skinned woman barely spared the hatchling a glance before the flaming spear was aimed at the Blue Dragon.

You have been given a gift many would and have killed for and you would throw it away!? The dragon growled, the woman's eyes widening in shock before narrowing in determination. That hatchling does not HAVE a mother, for Galbatorix murdered her. She has chosen you to be her companion, and you would reject her? Tell me why, human!

The woman's eyes narrowed further, but whatever might have been said was cut off by an explosion that had the woman's head snapping to the opening of the Dragon Hold. Without sparing any of those present a second glance, she ran to the edge of the Hold, her spear held at the ready as she beheld the battle below, the tattered tail of her armor fluttering in the breeze.

Arya spoke from behind him, drawing his, Saphira's and the hatchling's eyes. "Galbatorix is a man without mercy, who kills what he cannot control. The Varden is the only hope we have in destroying him and bringing Alagaësia back from the brink. You may not have asked for this burden, but it is yours. But you do not have to do it alone."

The woman shook her head with a sigh. "Bloody hell…" she grumbled as she spun her spear in her hand. "Fine, I'll help win this fight at the very least. But once this battle is over, you help me figure out how to get back home. I have family back there who need me." The woman turned her head and gave them a mischievous grin as lightning cackled in her free hand and flame ran along her spear. "Time to bring the pain." She said.

And then she jumped.

The hatchling squawked in horror and ran to the edge of the Dragon Hold, Arya, Eragon and Saphira right behind it. What they saw was the pale woman falling with an aura of lightning forming around her body as she fell, laughing and whooping as she did. Every combatant on the ground below stopped and stared at the falling lightning bolt, right up until she made landfall, slamming her spear into the ground with a shout. The lightning wreathing her body exploded outwards to strike every Urgal in sight, while attaching to the weapons of the Varden soldiers, wreathing the blades in brilliant blue lightning that had the men and dwarves cheering at the sight of the sorcerer in their midst, her spear blazing with golden flames as she charged toward the rest of the Urgal army with a fierce battle cry.

Eragon looked to Arya, his mouth open in shock at the level of power the woman possessed. Arya looked just as shocked, her normally neutral face gaping at the level of destruction that one person had caused with a single movement. With a jolt, they both headed for Saphira, the Blue Dragon already lowering herself to her stomach even as she very carefully picked up the Hatchling with her lips and swung her head around to put it in their cave.

Stay here, little one. She said to the Hatchling, who squeaked and crawled toward the back. With a snort and a puff of smoke, she turned and quickly followed the crazy woman with the lightning eyes out of the hold.

"I seriously hope that woman is actually our ally," he grumbled as Saphira winged her way toward the ring of flame that the woman had created to funnel the Urgals toward her. Arya nodded in agreement as they watched the woman fling fire balls left and right even as she spun her spear to shove right through and Kull's mouth. "Because I don't believe we could stop her if she decided to attack..."

I LIIIIIIIIIVE!

Okay, so first things first.

I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG! To explain, I have been working a crap ton on top of having a massive writer's block on most of my stories. It also doesn't help that i have Asperger's as well, since that makes it so much harder for me to focus. I'm not saying thtat for pity, I'm pointing it out so you understand what is taking me so long to update my stories. Because make no mistake, I AM NOT GIVING UP ON ANY OF THEM. My stupid brain is simply taking forever to reboot.

Now that that is out of the way, on to explanations.

Hawke has often been described as one of the most powerful Mages ever to walk the face of Thedas, without using Blood Magic. I wanted to show that in this story. Why make her a Rider? Because most magic users become even stronger when bonded to a Dragon and i thought, 'Hey, how do i make Hawke so absurdly powerful that even Durza would scream like a little bitch and run for the hills? I know! Give her a Dragon! This'll be AWESOME!"

I know, my brain is stupid. ANY WHO! As for mentioning Bethany rather than Carver for Mage Hawke...Carver is a bitchy little shit who can't just be happy for what he has and is obsessed with the idea that he is stuck in his sister's shadow. I hate him, have always and will always HATE him. Especially since he goes and signs up with the freaking Templars if you don't make him a Warden. Y'know, the people who would make Mage Hawke Tranquil for speaking her mind and setting fools on fire when they tried to torment her. The only thing i ever liked about him was when Isabela was teasing him about being at the Blooming Rose and the short bonding moment he and Hawke had during the Legacy DLC after they got back from Corypheus's prison.

Bethany on the other hand is someone that Hawke could always rely one when she needed to talk about serious things. She acted like a sibling should when her big sister was having a rough time with one thing or another. Honestly, i wish Bioware had pulled a Telltale Games moment and given you the choice on whether to save Bethany or Carver at the beginning.

Now then, My Hawke is a Force mage and Spirit Healer. She focused more on Elemental and Primal magics with a bit of Creation, Arcane, and Spirit mixed in. Her Personality is rather hectic since i tried to use the reactions i would have had i been in her place. So she is usually diplomatic, but can also be a mischievous, conniving little shit, or a complete asshole who prefers violence over humor or diplomacy.

As you probably read, Isabela is her Lover. The only reason she didn't kill Anders after he blew up the Chantry is because he is the strongest healer she knew and she was more than aware that there would be more bloodshed to come. That and she doesn't hurt her family.

Aaaaand done. I will not take anymore of your time. I hope you enjoyed. Please review, be polite if you didn't like it. And i will see you all the next time I update.