Sunshine,

Your sister had a visit from some of my less law-abiding kinfolk. She's too distracted to think of it now, but they made a bit of noise about Hawke blood. I know you two are on the outs, but it'd do her good to hear they had no better luck with you.

Fondly,

Varric

P.S. The ribbon is Orlesian silk. You didn't think I forgot, did you?

[in another, messier hand]

I found that ribbon. Don't let him sweet talk you. That's my job. Kisses, Isabela.

"I'm starting to think you're bad luck, Varric," Hawke said as she pushed ineffectually against the barrier that had sprung up behind them.

"Says the woman rich enough to thumb her nose at half of Hightown."

"Somehow I don't think there's treasure at the end of this road." Hawke banged against it one last time with the pommel of her sword. The barrier unobligingly remained unchanged.

"With your luck? Never say never," Varric met her exasperated look with a grin. Hawke rolled her eyes and turned to her other companions.

"Looks like we'll be taking the long way back out," she said. "Hope no one had any pressing business." Bethany compressed her lips, no doubt finding her sense of humor as inappropriate as always. Didn't frown or snap at her though, so that was an improvement. Fenris just shrugged. At least they weren't stuck in tunnels this time. No lava to make the air burn their lungs or inexpertly shored up walls that looked a breath away from caving in.

Hawke had to revise her opinion a few moments later, as they crossed a crumbling stone bridge. She made the mistake of glancing down through a fallen section and yes, she still hated heights with a passion. All that empty space made her lightheaded and if she fell there would be nothing she could do but watch helplessly as the ground rushed towards her. She felt herself leaning forward over the edge and jerked back. Her back hit hard metal, and Fenris caught her arm to steady her.

Hawke managed a smile and said, "Stupid ground has no business being that far down." His look of concern eased a bit and he almost smiled back, but then he realized he was still holding her arm and abruptly removed his hand.

"Watch yourself," Fenris said, but there was no real heat in the words. He stalked away, leaving Hawke to rub absently where his hand had been. She glanced at Bethany, who was looking over the edge with more composure than Hawke had managed. She kicked a stone over the side and Hawke saw her lips move, counting, as she watched it fall. The count went far too long for Hawke's liking, especially with Bethany standing right on the edge.

Bethany straightened back up when the stone hit bottom and caught Hawke watching. She flushed a little, embarrassed to be caught at a children's game, and raised her chin, daring Hawke to say something. Hawke had no such intention. It was reassuring to see Bethany doing something so innocent; it told her she hadn't ruined her sister's life completely.

She stayed silent as they went deeper, letting Varric and Fenris take the lead, and giving Bethany space to talk if she wanted. But her sister seemed content to travel in silence, and Hawke ended up breaking first.

"You've been awfully quiet. You okay?" Hawke asked.

"I'm not going to fall to pieces, if that's what you mean," Bethany said.

"Well, you know. The whole trapped underground thing. Not pleasant for any of us."

"I'm fine."

She didn't look fine, but Hawke backed off and cast about for another topic of conversation. They hadn't had much of a chance to talk yet. Bethany had shown up right in the middle of Hawke chasing down leads with Varric, and while their exchanges had none of the barbs of previous meetings, they had been achingly cordial, both of them wary of venturing beyond the safety of polite conversation.

She's writing, Hawke reminded herself. Don't push too hard.

She wanted to. For most of her life she dealt with problems by applying force until they gave up and went away. Or died. Hawke sighed. Mother would have been proud. Between her sister and Fenris, she'd finally had to learn patience.

Speaking of. Varric and Fenris were coming back, and by the looks on their faces, it wasn't good news.

"Darkspawn," Fenris said. Hawke looked at Bethany, startled.

"I did sense something," Bethany said, troubled. "But it's pretty far away yet, and it doesn't feel like a normal darkspawn." She got a distant look on her face. "It's like someone's singing."

Her voice was almost wistful, and Hawke was gripped with the sudden urge to shake her.

"I have never heard of darkspawn singing," Fenris said, watching Bethany with narrowed eyes.

"No . . ." Bethany shook her head to herself and shivered. "No," she repeated. "Whatever it is, it's nothing good."

"First things first," Hawke said. "Let's take care of those darkspawn. We'll worry about the other later."

The path took them back to an enclosed hallway that ran straight with only a few small rooms on either side. Near the end, it turned right and Varric held up a hand.

"Spotted them around the corner. It's a big room," he said. Hawke nodded and took a quick peek. It looked like there was another door, blocked, on the far side. The darkspawn were gathered around it with their backs to her. She looked at the others and jerked her head before charging into the room. Thankfully, it was a small group. Bethany and Varric picked most of them off before they got close enough to bring blades into play. Hawke and Fenris quickly dispatched the few remaining. Hawke ran an unobtrusive eye over Fenris after, checking to make sure he was uninjured. Satisfied, she looked at the room more closely. The far door was almost completely covered by a thick, angled piece of metal. From the spikes on the side facing them, Hawke assumed it was meant to serve as a blockade. It was head-high and looked too heavy to shift by hand. Hawke worried her bottom lip, trying to remember if their path here had branched.

A glimmer of light along the edge of the doorway caught her eye and she moved toward it to examine it more closely. If there was a gap, they might be able to leverage it enough to slip through. She was almost within arms reach when Bethany gave a cry of warning. The metal shuddered, then the whole heavy weight of it lifted as the darkspawn behind it wielded it like a shield and charged. Hawke was too close to dodge it completely. She twisted just in time for it to meet her left side instead of slamming into her head-on. The impact threw her off her feet and she landed hard on her back, gasping desperately for air.

The heat of a fire spell rushed over her head. It held the darkspawn long enough for Hawke gather breath enough to roll out of the path of its second charge, wincing as the motion jarred her already bruised side. There was a metallic rasp as Fenris's sword met the shield, scraping uselessly against the thick metal. The darkspawn slammed its shield forward and Fenris staggered back, stunned. It brought the shield back around to block a blast of ice from Bethany, preparing to charge again, and Hawke had to get up right now.

A few well-placed bolts from Varric turned the creature's head away from her and then Hawke was up, ignoring the protest from her ribs, and it took only a few steps to plunge her blade into the darkspawn's unprotected back. Its fall pulled her forward, and she ended up draped awkwardly over the hilt of her sword. Bethany was at her side a moment later. She helped Hawke straighten, running worried hands over her arm and ribs.

"I'm sorry," Bethany said. "I don't know why I didn't sense it sooner."

"I've had worse," Hawke said lightly, because she had and Bethany wasn't to blame. Bethany's hands began to glow with the cool blue of a healing spell, but Hawke stopped her when she caught sight of Fenris. "No. Heal him first."

"I am fine," he said.

Hawke pushed Bethany's hands away. "Him first," she repeated. Fenris's shoulders set in the way that meant he was about to be stubborn. Bethany looked between them, hesitating.

"You are hurt worse," Fenris said.

"I'm not bleeding," Hawke snapped. He blinked at her, then raised a hand to his head, surprised when it came back wet with blood. Hawke looked at Bethany, then back at Fenris. "Please," she said, not sure who she was asking. It seemed to make up Bethany's mind, because she went to Fenris, glaring at him when he opened his mouth to argue again. He submitted ungraciously, muttering something under his breath that made Bethany snort.

Varric pulled Hawke's sword from the darkspawn's body, and let her lean on him as he helped her take the few steps necessary to prop up the wall. Her side was starting to ache in earnest, and she suspected she'd cracked a rib. She tilted her head back against the wall and tried to keep her breaths shallow. Bethany confirmed her suspicions after she finished with Fenris.

"Is it too much to hope you've gotten better at bones?" Hawke asked.

"I can leave it alone, if you'd prefer."

"Ouch," Hawke winced. Despite her words, Bethany had started healing her before she finished speaking, and Hawke could feel her rib shift back into place with a scraping motion that just felt wrong. The bruising went easier and at the end she was able to take a deep breath without even a twinge of pain.

"Thanks," she said, reaching out to curl a strand of her sister's hair around her finger. It was an old habit, born from the days when Bethany would heal minor scrapes and bruises so their parents wouldn't know when Hawke got a little too confident against trees, cliffs, annoying older boys from town, and on one occasion which Hawke had made Bethany swear never, ever to tell Carver about, a territorial goose. Bethany glanced up, face open for the first time in years. Hawke smiled at her, and tugged the bit of hair. Bethany swatted at her hand in exasperation, but she was smiling too as Hawke pushed herself away from the wall and went to reclaim her sword from Varric.

"Well, that takes care of the doorway being blocked," Hawke said. Bethany rolled her eyes. She went to check the hall beyond and Varric followed after look from Hawke. He said something to Bethany as he caught up with her and her hand went to her hair, fingers running over the blue ribbon holding it back. She shook her head and smiled as she answered him back. Varric put a hand to his chest in mock affront and Bethany laughed. The sound made Hawke's heart ache.

"She seems less angry," Hawke said softly. Fenris gave a distracted grunt, rubbing ineffectually at the blood on his temple with the heel of his hand. "Here, let me," she pulled out a handkerchief and reached toward him. He stiffened, and for a second she thought he would pull away. Instead, he relaxed with almost deliberate effort and let her run the cloth over the curve of his eyebrow and down to his cheekbone. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said.

He half-shrugged, a bit of hair falling over one eye. She pushed it back without thinking and then wondered what he'd do if she tugged it like she had Bethany's. Probably not let her get this close again for months. He was silent for a minute while she wiped away the blood. Then, "Family is not something to be discarded lightly. It is good that Bethany realized that."

"It was hardly done lightly," Hawke said, stung by the implicit criticism of her sister. She might have been frustrated by Bethany's complete refusal to communicate for years, but that didn't mean other people could comment on it.

"I meant it as a compliment."

"Hmph. Your compliments need work."

Fenris chuckled a bit. The blood was gone, but Hawke refolded the handkerchief and ran it gently over his temple again. She was pushing her luck with the caress and was surprised when he leaned into it, so slightly that she wasn't sure he was aware of doing so. She paused, fingers pressed to his cheek through the thin barrier of fabric. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other, until Hawke saw the regret creep into Fenris's eyes and she pulled away before he could voice it.

Catching up with Bethany, she found Varric halfway through the story of their last sad trip to the Bone Pit. Hawke would not have thought a tale of the mass slaughter of men guilty of nothing more than trying to earn a living while being Ferelden in Kirkwall to be the obvious choice in their current situation, but what did she know?

"A high dragon," Bethany said flatly, as Hawke got closer. "Is that more or less impressive than killing the Qunari war leader?"

"Honestly? I'd rather fight the dragon again."

Bethany shook her head in disbelief. "Alistair said the archdemon was a high dragon. The Arishok was worse?"

Hawke shrugged. "I didn't fight the dragon by myself."

"Oh."

"What?"

"I'm just used to you having to do everything by yourself."

Hawke shrugged again, "Guess I learned better." That earned her skeptical looks not just from Bethany, but both Varric and Fenris as well. She had. It wasn't like she asked people to keep coming to her with their problems. A curious noise came from Bethany, and it took Hawke a moment to realize she was trying not to laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Hawke told her.

Bethany gave an unconvincing cough and wisely changed the subject. "I think the Wardens had a hand in making this place. See the walls?"

Hawke looked. "And I thought the de Launcets were bad. Do Wardens usually slap their crest on to every empty surface?" She was struck by a nasty thought, "Is this why you came?"

"What? No! I didn't know about any of this."

"Right. Sorry," Hawke looked around again. Other than the huge gryphon crests hanging on the walls, there was nothing remarkable about the room. Though there could always be something promising around the next corner, she thought sarcastically.

Bethany drifted toward one of the crests, "I don't think they're just for show. This one has magic in it."

"Could it be what's keeping us in?"

"I don't know," Bethany's hand brushed lightly over its surface in cautious exploration. It started glowing, and Hawke sprung forward and yanked her away as the glow coalesced into a ball that shot away and around the corner. Hawke opened her mouth to ask what just happened, when a voice began speaking. It was a man's voice, deep and deliberate, and Hawke barely heard the actual words it spoke because she knew that voice. It had been over a decade since she'd last heard it, but she knew it, she'd always know it.

Bethany looked as shaken as Hawke felt. "Father?" she asked.

"Is there another one?" Hawke was already checking the other crests. She didn't know if a non-mage would trigger the magic, but so much else had been linked to their father's blood that it seemed worth a try. She put a hand to the metal, hoping, but there was no glow, no repeat of her father's voice. Bethany tried it too, then all the other crests in the room, shoulders slumping a bit with each failure. Hawke felt her eyes prickle with the threat of tears and blinked rapidly. To have heard her father again, even for a moment, was an unlooked for gift; to hope for anything more was foolish. But, oh, she missed him. She'd stopped being just a daughter the moment he died, forced to step into the role of provider and protector for her family.

"Hawke," Varric poked his head around the corner. She hadn't realized he'd gone ahead while she and Bethany poked desperately around the chamber. "You'll want to see this."

This turned out to be a hunger demon. Hawke was between it and Bethany, sword drawn, before she realized it wasn't attacking, but held almost motionless in the small alcove. The glowing ball from earlier hovered in front of it.

"Okay, that's odd, right?" Hawke waved her sword in front of the demon, with no reaction.

"Sister," Bethany had found another crest and held one hand inches away from it. "It has magic. Should I?"

Hawke looked at the demon again, and the glowing ball. Was it strengthening whatever held the thing or weakening it? "Weapons out," she told Varric and Fenris, and gave Bethany a sharp nod.

There was no voice this time, but Hawke had no time to be disappointed, because the second glowing ball released the demon and it brought friends to the fight. But if there was one thing a decade in Kirkwall had taught her, it was how to kill creatures from the Fade. The battle was pitched, but brief, ending when Varric shot a bolt through the demon's throat and severed its hold on the physical world.

"That was invigorating," Hawke began, when Bethany gasped. She spun, sword slicing through a smokey shape rising from the ground. It wavered briefly, then began speaking with her father's voice. She tried to focus on the words this time as they echoed around the chamber.

. . . but I will have no one say my magic released demons into the world.

The shape faded, and Hawke couldn't help reaching out to trail a hand through it as it went. Tendrils of smoke followed the movement, curling and clinging to her fingers a moment longer.

"It's a trick," Bethany said. Hawke curled her fingers into her palm as if this time she could somehow catch and keep some part of her father. Half a lifetime ago and the grief was still as sharp as if it were only days old. Had she ever really mourned him properly? "Father would never have anything to do with demons. It goes against everything he ever taught me."

"He never talked about his life before he met Mother," Hawke said distantly, still looking at her fingers. "And he was binding them, not making deals with them."

"This kind of binding them is making deals with them," Bethany was agitated. "Its power was being used for something. You can't just use demons and walk away unscathed."

"What are you saying?"

"The first rule of dealing with demons is not to trust anything," Bethany's grip on her staff whitened her knuckles. "I want to believe that was really Father, but -"

"Then do," Hawke cut her off, not wanting to hear the rest. "Or don't. If there are more demons, we'll kill them. That's what matters."

"But if we don't know what they're being used for . . ."

Fenris broke in at that, "You think we should let demons live?"

Bethany looked uncomfortable, "I just think we might be better focusing on what's ahead."

"You say that like you know what it is," Fenris looked suspiciously at her.

"Bethany," Hawke said, making back down motions at Fenris. "Are you still hearing that singing?"

Bethany glared, "My mind is perfectly clear."

Hawke wasn't sure about that, but this was hardly her area of expertise. She didn't usually have a whole lot of interaction with compromised mages before they tried to kill her. "Has it changed? Did it," she was fumbling and knew it, "did it get louder, or, or change beats or something?"

"No," Bethany said shortly. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but didn't. "Let's just keep moving." She suited action to words, not bothering to see if anyone followed. Hawke did, of course, which meant Varric and Fenris did too, trailing along in the wake of her sister's offended stride as Bethany stomped through corridors before leading them unexpectedly into sunlight. They'd come upon the tower glimpsed from outside before they'd entered the warren of dwarven tunnels. Hawke blinked upwards, catching a bare hint of sky beyond the clouds circling the top of the tower. Its base was far below them, as if someone had bored a hole deep in earth and dropped the tower in. The wind whipped around the column, whistling on high and howling in the depths. A bridge stretched across the divide, dotted by a few indistinct mounds, and Hawke felt no urge to look over the side this time.

The clouds parted as they began to cross, sunlight dappling the bridge before them. The wind was too strong for the sun to warm them, but Hawke still raised her face to it as they went. A patch of light hit one of the mounds, and its oddly lumped shape resolved into a pile of darkspawn bodies. The back of the pile moved, and Hawke realized one of the bodies was merely hunched over the rest. Even as she drew her sword, it straightened and limped towards them.

"The key!" it said as it neared, and Hawke relaxed a fraction. Darkspawn didn't talk and she didn't see a weapon. The man – now that he was closer, she could see that's what he was – looked awful. His hair stuck out between bald patches in uneven clumps, and his face was a network of dark lines, skin pale and rotting around each corrupted vein. The stink coming from the man was overwhelming. Hawke took a small, unobtrusive step back, trying to breathe through her mouth. The man repeated himself, and after a moment Hawke figured out he was referring to the unwieldy sword she'd taken from one of the dwarfs topside. She'd strapped it to her back, thinking she could sell it to one of the nobles who collected swords. The uglier and less practical one was, the more they seemed to think it was worth.

Hawke pulled the thing from her back and looked at it more closely. It was still ugly as sin, but now that she was holding it properly, it was also better balanced than she first thought. Definitely a sword though, no key-like properties at all. She said as much, and the man began shaking in agitation. He rambled about their family's blood – which was getting old, truthfully – and seals and ancient prisons, then promptly ran off, chanting "down and out, down and through" before Hawke could get any real sense out of him.

"Did anyone else follow that?" she asked. The question was met with universal shrugs. "Very helpful," she muttered.

One pride demon later, the man reappeared, popping up like a particularly gruesome jack-in-the-box. Even without magic, Hawke could feel the demon's death had loosened something; there was a change in the air, one Hawke wasn't sure she liked. Whatever it was, it seemed to have made the man more lucid. He was still frustratingly vague on what the seals held, but he was clear that releasing them would also release the barrier around the prison. It was all a little too convenient for Hawke's tastes.

"And you know this how?" she asked.

Bethany nudged her, "Look at his armor." Under the dirt and grime and dried somethings that Hawke didn't want to look too closely at, there were glimpses of familiar blue and silver. "I think he might have been a Grey Warden."

That set the man off again, his words a curious mix of confirmation and denial, focus swinging between Hawke and Bethany. Somewhere in the middle of it all he finally gave them a name – Larius – but a glance at Bethany told Hawke the name meant nothing to her. Hawke's repulsion grew with each word as the unwelcome implications set in. Larius pulled his running trick again at the end of his rant, and Hawke forced her question out before she lost her nerve.

"I thought Wardens were immune to the taint?"

Hawke's stomach clenched as Bethany looked away. "Not exactly. We," she paused and searched for the right words, "endure it."

"Oh," Hawke said faintly. "Then . . . that . . ." she trailed off, unable to say it out loud.

Bethany shrugged, the informal gesture at odds with the tightness in her bearing, "Sometimes. If we live that long. There's a reason the Calling exists."

The Joining is not a cure. Anders had said that so long ago. She should have made him explain. She should have made him tell her everything, secrecy be damned. He'd made it clear the Wardens no longer had any claim to his loyalty.

"You've known about this," Hawke said.

"They tell us after the Joining."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Bethany laughed incredulously, "Because it's a secret, sister. What would you have done? You gave me to the Wardens – they weren't going to let you take me back."

"I didn't have much of a choice," Hawke grabbed Bethany's staff as she huffed and tried to turn away. "I can't believe you're still mad at me for saving your life!"

"I'm not mad that you saved my life."

Something finally broke at that, and Hawke didn't care that they might be within earshot of darkspawn, or that Fenris and Varric were watching with the awkward, trapped expressions of unwilling bystanders everywhere. "Not mad? I didn't hear from you for years – years! - and when we finally did see each other you could barely stand to look at me."

Bethany yanked the staff away, "You abandoned me!"

Hawke gaped. Of all the things she felt guilty for, that she thought Bethany might blame her for, abandoning her was the one thing she never thought she'd be accused of. "What?" she managed, "I write you every month."

"I didn't want letters. I wanted you. Stroud," a grimace of pain crossed Bethany's face, "he was awful. Those first few months – and there was nothing from you or Mother. And then there was, and your life had just gone on without me so easily."

"It didn't. Maker, Bethany, it was half a year before we even heard you'd survived. There were so many times I wanted you. And after Mother," three years on, and her throat still closed up at the memory, "after she died, I needed you so badly."

Bethany looked tired, "You've never needed anyone."

"I needed you," Hawke repeated. The words hung between them and she could see how much Bethany wanted to believe it. "I did," she said, not knowing how to convince her if all her words over the past decade had not. "I – Beth," she pleaded.

"I hate this," Bethany whispered. "I don't want to be mad at you."

In a perfect world, Hawke would know what to say to that, some apt phrase that would undo her sister's pain and put everything back the way it was. In this one, she could only fail her sister again. "I'm sorry," she said helplessly.

"Yeah," Bethany said, and Hawke knew the topic was closed.

They took the stairs down in silence. The floor below was much like the one above. Despite her misgivings, Hawke didn't see that they had much choice but to follow Larius's instructions. For the moment anyway, and she was keeping a watchful eye on Bethany. Her sister still found her ability to sense approaching darkspawn drowned out by whatever was at the center of the prison, and Hawke worried what it would do to her when all the seals were gone.

Hawke threw herself into the next group of darkspawn they encountered with almost reckless abandon. Fenris looked at her worriedly afterward as she stood panting in a circle of dead hurlocks, sword dripping blood at her feet. From the way another of the huge shield-bearing creatures sat smoking, metal bits warped and glowing, she wasn't the only one taking her emotions out on deserving targets.

They found more bound demons in halls that ran deceptively straight before twisting in on themselves to run back along their own length. The first burned with rage, and Hawke was happy to let Bethany turn it into frozen shards while she kept the lesser demons occupied. The indistinct figure of their father rose between them again, speaking of regret and necessity. Bethany's lips moved at the end, forming the words of Malcom's oft repeated mantra with it. The slight, distant look in her eyes faded a little as she did, and Hawke wondered if these smaller seals were meant to balance the larger ones, and if that was by the Wardens' design or just her father's.

There was little time to dwell on it. The darkspawn were coming faster and in greater numbers as they pushed forward. Hawke was starting to feel the first dull aches of bone-deep fatigue, and was almost grateful enough to kiss one of the gryphon crests when they stumbled across them again. For whatever reason, the darkspawn avoided the rooms where the demons were bound.

"Let's rest a moment," she said when Bethany went to check the crests. Varric rummaged a moment in his coat pockets, then tossed them each an apple. Hawke looked at him suspiciously.

"What?" he asked.

"Since when do you carry food in your pockets?"

"Got in the habit back when Daisy got herself lost enough that she missed meals finding her way back."

"Varric. That was years ago."

"Just eat your apple, Hawke."

She ate. It was bruised in a few spots, but still good. It helped.

Bethany released the first seal as Hawke tossed the apple core back the way they came. They followed the ball of light to a desire demon, held behind a barrier that shimmered like a heat wave. The demon twitched when the light came to rest before it, and Hawke was suddenly aware of Fenris, four steps back and to her left. The distance between them was almost painful, and she wondered what he would do if she closed it, pushing him against the wall and pushing herself through his walls until he broke and gave her what she wanted.

No. That was wrong. What she wanted – what she really wanted -

Hawke grasped the blade of her sword hard. It wasn't sharp so close to the hilt, but the edges dug into her hand and gave her something real to focus on. The demon's eyes flashed and mage or not, she could feel it grasping for another hold on her. Bethany found the second seal, and Hawke saw its hair grow longer and darker, skin turning a more natural hue, as the barrier fell.

A bolt thudded into its shoulder before it could complete the change, and Hawke spun away before it could try again. She focused on fighting the shades that rose from the corners of the room, not daring to look back to the desire demon until she heard its last indignant cry as it was pulled back across the Veil. Her father's voice rose as it faded.

Hawke knew he'd had a good reason for involving himself in Warden business. She hadn't suspected that she'd been the reason, she and her mother.

Bethany made a strange, soft sound next to her. "No wonder you were Father's favorite."

"You were Mother's."

Bethany smiled a little sadly at that. "And Carver was yours." There was no resentment in the statement.

"I loved you both."

"I know," Bethany said. "It doesn't bother me. I just wish Carver had realized it." She made that soft sound again and threaded her arm through Hawke's. "He was such an idiot."

"He was." Hawke tightened her grip, and for a moment there was nothing separating them, the distance bridged by their shared grief. Then Hawke cleared her throat, "Just so you know, I'm going to hit the next Warden we see, present company excepted."

Bethany gave a shaky laugh and withdrew her arm. "Depending on the Warden, I might help."

Hawke did not hit the next Warden she saw. She was tempted, half-mad though Larius was, but it seemed rather rude to deck the man after he'd provided them with their only known way out. He was growing more lucid, but his improved state only meant that he was cannier in avoiding her questions.

She had no such compunction with Janeka, and her only real regret in telling the second Warden what she thought of the idea of controlling a centuries-bound intelligent darkspawn was that she couldn't punctuate her refusal physically. Varric might have been able to get a bolt off through the flames Janeka raised to cover her retreat, but he had kept his attention on Larius while Hawke talked to the other Wardens.

Hawke blew her breath out in frustration, "At least it sounds like we're close to getting out of here."

"I wonder," Bethany said with a slight frown. "Did you notice that she didn't seem to realize they were trapped?"

"Or she simply does not care," Fenris said.

Hawke hummed thoughtfully. "I don't think they came in the same way we did. There must be another way out. I mean, Father was able to leave without breaking all of these seals."

"Baldy's gone ahead again. Want me to go get him so you can ask?" Varric caught Hawke's look and shrugged, "They can't all be as brilliant as 'Sunshine' and 'Elf'."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "We'll catch up soon enough."

They found the final bound pride demon past pits that steamed and filled the air with stink of sulfur. It reminded Hawke of the poisoned air the Arishok had let been willing to unleash on Kirkwall; that had been the moment she'd lost any of her slowly growing, grudging respect for the Qunari leader. Maker, but she was so tired of people treating other people's lives as collateral damage for whatever ideological point they were trying to make. The Qunari had done it, the Chantry did it with mages, and here the Grey Wardens had put all of Kirkwall – her city – at risk to keep an ancient darkspawn bound instead of dead for who knew what reason.

The thought made her killing stroke against the pride demon vicious, and she barely waited for it to fade away before she thrust the strange sword-key forward to complete the unsealing. It did whatever magic it did and there was a deep rumble above them. Bethany shuddered, then swayed like the ground had suddenly pitched beneath her.

"Easy, Sunshine," Varric put a hand under Bethany's elbow. She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

"I'm okay," Bethany said. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"The singing again?" Hawke asked.

"No. I mean – yes, it just got a lot stronger, but I haven't really been hearing it for a while." Bethany grimaced, "I don't know how to explain it so you understand. It nevr went away, but it's not pulling on me anymore."

"Good with the release and kill part of the plan now?"

Bethany didn't quite glance at Fenris. "Yes, sister," she said, the slight emphasis on the second word for once fond instead of biting. "But I don't think the other Wardens will be," she added.

Larius was across the room, almost out of earshot, but Hawke lowered her voice anyway, "I'm not sure ours will be either. He talks more about destroying the seals than whatever it is they're holding." She sighed, "Hopefully we'll beat Janeka there and won't have to deal with both of them."

For a little while, Hawke almost believed they might. The final push had plenty of darkspawn that an advance group of Grey Wardens surely would have dealt with. But when they reached the bridge leading back to the top of the tower, Janeka and her two companions were waiting. The Warden's arguments were no more convincing the second time around. The insinuation that Larius had been responsible for her father's cooperation years ago made her want to push him off the bridge, but was irrelevant to the question of letting a darkspawn live.

Janeka did not take Hawke's refusal well.

It was really almost funny how the woman thought she could catch them off-guard. Fenris's tattoos were glowing by the time Janeka finished giving the order to attack, and he was in the woman's space before she had a chance to retreat behind the blades of her fellow Wardens. Her hasty blast of energy sloughed off him, and she scrambled to get her staff up to block his sword. Hawke intercepted one of the other Wardens as he tried to help his commander, sword cutting easily through the man's leather to cut his arm open from shoulder to elbow. Bethany froze the last Warden and Varric's bolt followed a split second later. Hawke's opponent flinched as frozen bits of flesh showered down around them, and she used his distraction to get under his guard and pierce the artery in his shoulder. He gasped and pressed a hand against the wound in a futile attempt to stop the flow of blood. He'd bleed out in a matter of minutes, but Hawke still pulled her dagger and pushed it through his left eye. Better a quick death, always better a quick death.

Janeka had no chance after that.

Larius barely glanced at the bodies of his fellow Wardens, urging Hawke to complete the unsealing. She didn't need to look at her companions to know she wasn't the only one wary of his motives. They made their way around the circular room, loosing the energy that kept the darkspawn bound. But there was no release.

"It needs your blood," Larius called from the entrance. "It needs the key and your blood," he pointed to the center of the room, where there was a slightly raised platform. Hawke approached it, frowning.

"This is blood magic," Fenris said flatly.

"It's been blood magic the whole way through," Hawke said. She tried to smile at him, "Does it really count if I'm not a mage?"

"Yes," Bethany said.

Varric shrugged, "We have to get out of here one way or another."

"Right. Speak now if you know another way out. Otherwise . . ." Hawke held the sword out and readied herself.

Varric hefted Bianca in response. Fenris looked at her hand hovering above the blade of the sword for a long moment, face tight and unhappy, before giving her a sharp nod. Bethany gripped her staff, "Ready, sister."

Afterwards, Hawke could never recall what followed well. She remembered an explosion of energy that sent her sprawling and something that looked more like a horror than a darkspawn rising from the center of the room. The creature tried to talk to them, but she knew nothing good ever came from conversing with things like that. And then her memory got really fuzzy. There were gouts of flame, and rocks dancing with lightning, and huge chunks of ice that hurled toward them with unerring accuracy. And over it all, the darkspawn's voice, full of confusion and rage. Her only clear memory was Bethany turning to respond to a called warning, and stopping, face full of alarm, and then nothing.

Hawke's head ached when she woke. Someone was moaning. They sounded familiar.

Bethany, she thought, and struggled to open her too-heavy eyes. She took a deep breath, and the sound stopped. Not Bethany, she realized. Me. Hawke relaxed again.

"Sister? Marian?"

The sheer worry in her sister's voice cut through the returning lethargy. She opened her eyes.

Bethany was leaning over her, eyes red and cheeks wet. "Oh," she said, when Hawke gingerly raised a hand, "oh, I -" And then she pressed forward, hands resting on Hawke's shoulders and face turning into her neck. "Don't do that," Bethany half-sobbed. "I'm not a healer."

"Sorry," Hawke said hoarsely. She put her arms around Bethany and held her best she could. "I'm sorry." Bethany just shook her head, leaving smears of moisture against Hawke's skin. Hawke rubbed small circles on her back. "What happened?" she asked.

Bethany sniffed and sat back up. "You got hit by one of those big pieces of ice. Right in the back of your head. And then you fell on to one of the lightning rocks." Hawke winced as she continued, "Turns out even ancient darkspawn aren't that good at defending against attacks from three directions." Bethany's gaze fell to Hawke's arms, then back up to her eyes again. Her voice was lower when she spoke again, "Besides your head, there were a lot of burns. I did the best I could, but your heart kept stopping and I – I'm not good enough at healing to - "

"Hey," Hawke struggled to sit up as Bethany's eyes began to water again. It hurt more than she wanted to admit. She tugged her sister back into her arms, "I'm okay."

"But your arms!" Bethany managed, before dissolving completely, clinging to Hawke as she cried.

Hawke raised one arm and looked at it. A thick red scar ran jaggedly down the back of her forearm, smaller scars forking away from it at irregular intervals. She flexed her arm and noted that the skin felt tight and sore. She lowered it again again to rest on Bethany's back, "Anders may be able to do something about them." She pressed a kiss against Bethany's hair. "You're okay?" she asked, as she looked over Bethany's shoulder for Varric and Fenris. Bethany nodded against her shoulder as Hawke spotted them back by the entrance with Larius. It looked like they were preventing him from leaving.

Hawke gritted her teeth. One last problem, and she was not at her best. She ran a hand over Bethany's hair, "Help me up?"

Standing was even harder and actually walking worst of all, her muscles twitching and protesting with each step. She had to lean on Bethany more than she liked. By the time they reached the others, she was breathing heavily and was regretting not simply making Larius come to her.

"Good to see you on your feet, Hawke," Varric said, and Hawke flashed him a brief smile. She gave Fenris a slightly softer one before turning her attention to Larius.

He met her gaze with none of the shiftiness that had defined their previous interactions. He even stood straighter. Hawke wasn't sure quite what to make of the change. Larius attributed his improvement to the death of the darkspawn and announced his intentions of rejoining the Wardens.

"I didn't think people came back from the Calling," Bethany said.

"Yes, I will be unexpected," Larius said. "The prison seals are gone and we are all free. I thank you, children of Malcolm Hawke."

Hawke watched him go, still slightly disquieted at the change in personality. Bethany shifted her grip on her waist and redistributed her weight. "Getting heavy, am I?" Hawke asked her.

"Of course not," Bethany said, in the exact tone of voice Carver used to use. "I still think he needs a good hit for what he did to Father."

"Should have said something while he was still in arms reach. I'm not exactly in shape to go run him down."

"I'll do it for both of us if I see him again," Bethany said.

Hawke smiled and leaned her head against her sister's. "Let's go home," she said.

A day later, Hawke sat in her library, chair pulled up by the fire. Bethany sat in front of her, leaning back against her legs as Hawke braided her hair.

"I missed this," Bethany said.

"Wait till I'm done before you get nostalgic," Hawke said. "I still can't keep these damn things straight."

Bethany elbowed Hawke's shin. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do."

They were quiet for while then. Across the room, Dog snuffled and rolled over, legs twitching as he chased something in his sleep. A log broke in the fireplace and sent sparks dancing in the updraft.

"I wish I could stay longer," Bethany's voice was almost to low to catch. Hawke pulled a bit more of her hair into the braid. Despite her best efforts, it was already going crooked.

"I do too," she said.

"But the Grey Wardens," Bethany said.

"The Grey Wardens," Hawke agreed. Then, because she could never leave well enough alone, "Do you still wish I hadn't given you to them?"

Bethany sighed, "I don't know." She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. "I'm not sorry I'm alive though. I couldn't always say that."

"I didn't know that."

"I wasn't talking to you through most of it."

"Bethany," Hawke said, and whatever was in her voice made Bethany twist around to look at her. "Grey Warden or not, if you want to stay, you can."

Bethany blinked up at her, half-braided hair hanging lopsidedly down the back of her head. "I think they'd come looking eventually," she said. "And even your reputation can't protect me from the Circle like this armor does."

Hawke sighed, and motioned for Bethany to turn back around so she could finish her hair. "But if you wanted to, you could," she said. "You know I'd fight the Templars for you."

"I do." Bethany reached back and laid a hand over Hawke's, "Thank you."

They fell into silence again after that. Hawke was almost finished when a thought struck her and she let out a sharp breath of exasperation.

"What?" Bethany asked.

"I just realized that Varric is going to be insufferable. More than usual." Hawke tied off the end of the braid and tugged it to let Bethany know it was done. She turned and propped a forearm on Hawke's knee.

"Why's that?" she asked.

"Years ago he said the way to make up was to let you rescue me from certain death."

Bethany fought down a laugh, "I don't know if it was certain death."

"Close enough."

"Closer than I ever wanted," Bethany said. Hawke smiled ruefully.

"So how many days can you spare?" she asked.

"I don't think Alistair would begrudge me a week. He's rather keen on family."

"I knew I liked him."

Bethany stood and stretched. She licked her lips then, and looked down at Hawke. "Sister," she began, uncertain. "I'm sorry, too."

"Already forgiven," Hawke said. She leaned her head back against the chair – she'd gone to see Anders as soon as they got back, but she was still sore and tired easily.

"Need help getting up to your room?" Bethany asked.

"I'll manage," Hawke said. "Get a good night's sleep. Isabela wants to take you shopping tomorrow. I've used less energy going to the Wounded Coast and back than on one of her shopping expeditions."

Bethany laughed and kissed her goodnight. Hawke stayed in front of the fire a while longer, feeling happy for the first time in ages. She had her sister back, and while the relationship was still somewhat fragile, it was real and it was honest. It was one good thing gone right.

Hawke smiled and followed her sister to bed.

a/n - And that's it. I just want to thank everyone who left reviews, especially during the long breaks between chapters. They always brightened my day and assured me there was still an audience waiting for the resolution between Hawke and Bethany. I have another, much longer and plottier fic in the works, so if you liked this story, keep an eye out. Thanks again for reading!