Prophetia

To say the Hawke residence was cosy was an understatement. Celestine had lived in a monumental structure nearly all her life, and despite how impressive the tower at Kinloch Hold was, she would have given it up willingly and without thought were she to be given this alternative.

The plot of land was slightly set apart from most others in the area, most of them seemingly trying to be as close to Lothering while still within their boundary-stones. The Hawke home instead seemed to be shying away from it. One of the building's walls was the living stone of one of the hills that was starting to rise out of the ground more and more the further they got from the Korcari Wilds. It was clear they were getting closer to the Hinterlands, a region of very rough terrain just south of Redcliffe.

The holding consisted of a house and a small barn, both of whose foundation was made of mortar and stones up to chest-height, where the rest of the building was then constructed of wooden planks. The roof was also made of wooden boards but covered with well-kept thatch and pitch to waterproof it.

The path to the house was paved with naturally flat stones around which tufts of grass grew; the rest of the space in front of the building was used up by neatly kept rows of crops. Not many, just enough to feed a family with enough to spare for the weekly market visits.

There was a woman about her age working the soil with a hoe a short distance from where a simple wooden fence demarcated the end of the property. She straightened up when the party drew nearer, either having heard or seen them. Her hair was as dark as Celestine's own and the woman wore it in a very similar fashion, the only difference being that it was slightly longer and wavier than the Circle Mage's. She wore a simple brown dress, numerous soil-stains and patched tears indicating that these clothes were purely practical. The girl also sported a rich tan, no doubt due to hours of having toiled under the day's sun.

At first she seemed to scrutinize the approaching party, but as her eyes came to rest on Hawke and Carver her face lit up. She almost jumped out of the dug-over soil, dropping the hoe and running towards them.

"Sister! Carver! Andraste be praised, you're all right!" she exclaimed after detaching herself from Carver and Hawke, whom she had wrapped both her arms around, Carver looking slightly uncomfortable with the gesture.

There were tears streaming down the woman's cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust that coated her from her labours in the field. "We thought that…after the news from Ostagar…Maker. It's so good to see you're safe."

Hawke laughed; the sound seeming to be a release of stress that had built up over the past few days. "Hi Beth, it's good to see you. Taking good care of Mother I hope?"

"Yes, she's inside hanging up the carrots we pulled out this morning. Oh, she'll be happy to see you two too. I'd suggested that we travel up to Redcliffe, with the Blight coming and all, but she wouldn't hear of it. I think she would have been willing to die in its path had you not returned." A shadow seemed to pass over the woman's expression as she spoke.

"Well good thing there's no need for that! I swear she must be where Carver gets all the stubborn from." Hawke consoled the woman.

Carver snorted. "Yes, I'm the stubborn one."

"See? He agrees."

At this Carver merely snorted, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

The woman gently poked Hawke in the ribs, smiling softly. "Sister, you have people with you that you have yet to introduce."

"Ah, yes! That was almost rude of me." Hawke flourished towards her sister. "Wardens, meet my sister, Bethany. Sister, meet my Wardens." The raven-haired soldier started pointing at each in turn, naming them, "That's the cheese-guy, Alice-something. Those two are nobs from somewhere, Elisa and Erik. The alluring one is Morrigan, a witch," to which she added in a loud whisper: "I think that's awesome. You know Sister Leliana already; the amazing mutts are Alfonse and Triss. Aaannnd this beautiful lass is Celestine, our one and only cousin! Or, well, one of them at any rate, no idea if we have any others."

"My name…is Alistair."

"Yes, we know you stare, well I do at any rate and at whom too," Hawke dismissed, but winked at him when no one else was looking.

Bethany's eyes grew wide at the introductions, "Wardens? Cousin? Nobles? A witch? Maker…mother will have a fit. The house is a mess!"

"Pff, it's fine – besides, everywhere else is chock-full of people fleeing the Blight. Speaking of, let's get a move on. I do hope you've remembered Father's measures."

"Yes, everything is ready."

"Good. The Wardens will stay the night, but will move on in the morning. We'll pick up anything still needed in town and then and make for Denerim."

Leandra Hawke dealt with the unexpected company admirably, somehow managing to find bed and board for all of them in the small building, while the dogs decided to take shelter in the barn, startling an old dairy cow. Sorana's mother took a particular interest in Celestine, telling her a great deal about her family after the evening meal, surprising even her own children with the revelation that the Amells were in fact, nobility.

"If I may be so bold as to ask, Mistress Hawke, but why are you living here and as you are, if your parents were prominent figures in the Free Marches?" Erik queried.

"Please, call me Leandra, and the reason for how we came to be here is that my parents did not approve of Malcolm: Sorana, Carver and Bethany's father." Leandra paused. "They took issue with his…heritage."

"What she means, is that they didn't like her running off with a mage," Sorana stated bluntly. She was sitting on a backwards-facing chair, legs splayed on either side of the back-rest, rocking it as she chewed on one of the carrots that had been picked earlier that day.

"Your father was a mage? But the Circle…oh," Celestine's sentence drifted off as realisation struck her.

"Yep, one bona-fide apostate." Hawke finished the sentence.

Leandra looked at the assembled Wardens. "It was in fact the Grey Wardens that helped us get out of Kirkwall. I have no idea how, but when my parents locked me in after finding out about us…he showed up in our courtyard surrounded by an entire battalion, saying he would not leave until I was free to go with him."

Morrigan gave a derisive snort from her position leaning against a pillar slightly further away from the group. When she received several questioning looks, she shook her head and walked out of the building, the flutter of wings following her disappearance out the door.

"I have to ask," Celestine picked up after the witch's departure, trying to work around the silence that had fallen, "from what I've read, research states that the progeny of mages generally also...exhibit similar signs."

"Exhibit she says," Hawke laughed, Carver made an annoyed sound from where he was sitting. "Cousin Dearest, you have no idea."

With that Hawke snapped her fingers and there was a soft whoosh as her hand was enveloped in a blue aura. Celestine's eyes grew wide, Erik and Elisa stiffened, Leliana gasped and Alistair breathed something that sounded suspiciously like 'Andraste's Blessed Dairy Products'.

Hawke shook her hand and the blue light dissipated as if it had been mere smoke. "Yes, Blondie, you have a great many reasons to take good care of her," the raven-haired woman was wearing a wicked grin as she looked at the most senior Warden present.

Erik cleared his throat, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Messere Hawke, you are remarkably skilled in melee for a practitioner of the arcane."

Hawke turned her grin on him. "Only a fool would be in the position I am in and not be able to take care of oneself without the use of magic. Besides, like this no one ever suspects a thing."

"True."

Elisa seemed to have recovered her normal composure, returning to the cheery woman she always was. "I wonder if there are any practitioners of magic that have taken up fighting as a rogue would."

Alistair groaned, running a hand over his face. "Maker, Elisa, I'll never be able to feel safe again if you go around saying things like that."

She looked at him sternly. "Not while you're with either Erik or Celestine. Mabari can detect anything."

The blond-haired man turned to Celestine. "Please let me follow you around for so long as Triss decides that she's yours?"

Celestine giggled. "Why yes of course, brave ser."

While he was probably unaware of it, most smiled inwardly at the expression of supreme happiness that seemed to settle on his features.

The diverse group continued to talk late into the night, finally ending with a ballad sung by Leliana, telling the story of a fierce warrior fighting all manner of foes, from men and beasts to monsters.

The companions then bid each other goodnight, all going to their chosen sleeping places, and spent the night under a friendly roof for the first time in several days. The slowly growing itch at the back of the Wardens' minds was a constant reminder that the Darkspawn were out there, and drawing ever nearer.

~o~

"What do you all make of this?" Celestine asked the group.

They had woken early, bidding farewell to the Circle mage's relatives, Bethany and Sorana both leaving to gather any last-minute supplies from Lothering. The Wardens' group had been surprised at how prepared the family was to leave their home behind, only to be reminded that having apostates in the family meant having a constant plan to move if they were discovered by the Templars. This was a grounding realisation to Celestine after her mind had blown up the picturesque existence the Hawkes seemed to live to paradise-like standards.

Morrigan was the first to speak, tone dismissive. "I say we leave him."

Erik just shrugged; he did not particularly care. Alistair also shrugged, saying: "We're already just short a dwarf and elf on a full circus; might as well add a Qunari while we're at it."

Leliana seemed torn, chewing on her lower lip as she looked from Celestine to the Qunari and back again. Elisa stared at the massive man, eyes roaming him from head to toe. "I like his muscles."

Erik sighed.

They had found the gibbet just outside the furthermost borders of Lothering, where the farmland ended and the wilderness took over again. Inside was standing a man at least half a person taller than any human the rest of the group had ever seen. His hair was a shocking white, the colour of ice, and his skin a deep grey, oddly similar in shade to bronto hide. He was staring at the group impassively; he had recounted the reasons for being in the situation that he was, but he seemed not to resent his captors. Rather, he seemed to accept this fate as his due for the deaths of the farming family that he had been responsible for.

Celestine pressed her fingers to her temples; the day had started wonderfully, but with the singing in the back of her head growing louder compounded with having to deal with decisions like this, she was starting to develop a rather spectacular headache.

"I'll have a talk with the Revered Mother; we're missing larger weapon wielders at the moment as it is. He can earn his redemption fighting the Blight as many Wardens do and fulfill his assignment for the Arishok while he's at it."

Erik nodded. "Considering we're all we have currently, versus a Blight and a regent's army, any extra assistance is welcome."

Since no one else seemed to overtly disagree with the decision, the Mage nodded, and, waving at Leliana to follow her back to the town, set off.

~o~

"So, you said you would further explain your supposed 'message' from the Maker," Celestine said once they had gotten some distance from the rest of the group, who had taken to finding somewhere to rest while they waited.

"Indeed I did." It sounded as if the red-haired woman was slightly hesitant to recount her reasons now that she was faced with actually doing so.

"Well, explain away," Celestine nudged.

"It was in a dream. I saw the world swallowed by a growing darkness." The cadence of the Chantry Sister's voice compelled Celestine to listen, to believe. "I was alone, the darkness having consumed everything, leaving a great gaping void." Leliana looked at Celestine earnestly. "I woke, more horrified and frightened than I had ever been." The way she said it implied that meant it was indeed very frightening, far more than many things Celestine herself had ever experienced. "I went to the Chantry gardens as I often did, trying to find solace among the flowering blooms that the other Sisters tend there. I happened to walk past the gnarled and twisted form of a rose bush that had never flowered despite the Sisters' best efforts. But this time, there was a single bloom flowering amongst the dead thorns, proud and beautiful, yet still so fragile. Or so I thought until I touched it. It would not let itself be picked, the petals would not come loose, the knife I used to try and cut it off still needs to be re-sharpened. It was strong, stronger than anything I have ever encountered. That day you arrived in the village."

Celestine looked thoughtful, "Interesting, do you think this flower is still there?"

"I don't think anything would be able to remove it."

"Do you think we could have a look after speaking with the Revered Mother?"

"Of course. You most likely passed by the garden when you first entered the village. But you asked for my reasons for wanting to follow you – there they are."

Celestine put a hand on the other woman's arm as a gesture of acceptance. "It's alright, I'm not sure if any of this is or will be true for me, but it no doubt strengthened your faith; I will not fault someone for that, not when there are times my own needs it just as much." The mage paused slightly. "Besides, even if you're not a monster bull-man, we could still use your help if our current predicament is anything to go by."

Leliana blinked rapidly several times, looking away to brush away a treacherous tear. Not even the Sisters in the Chantry had treated her with such acceptance; instead they had ridiculed and ostracised her because of her ideas on faith, the Maker and his Bride. She had begun doubting the dream and the sign herself, but the dark-haired mage's answer to her had alleviated those. Even if it had all been a Felandaris-induced hallucination, this woman was that unbreakable rose, a light that broke through the darkness in their hour of need.