A/N: Our story starts 6 years before the Blight (assuming the characters are in their early/mid-twenties when the Darkspawn hoard destroyed South Ferelden)

EDIT 11-Feb-2013: Tittle/summery change – because I came to a mental road-block and I felt it was starting to stray from the original summery. So now it's called 'Thing for You' & I am starting to write a sequel (using the old tittle) 'Wait for you'

BioWare own everything! I'm just playing in their dragon and darkspawn-filled sandbox.


"Elf" Hawke muttered accusingly as she surveyed the damage done to her staff, the last gift her father had given her before he disappeared. Its splintered remains scattered at her feet in a splatter of blood.

There was something missing from the scene, a big something she wouldn't realize until a handful of years later. The liquid lyrium that was built into the core of every staff was nowhere to be found. As old as the staff was, when broken its innards should have left a thick silver puddle staining the floor.

She also wouldn't notice until later the pair of small bloodied hand prints glowing softly with a foggy blue-ish-silver hue on the stone floor in the corner hidden underneath one of her brother's old shields.

Hawke wasn't normally an angry person but she was livid right now. The rage felt foreign in her blood, her magic stirring dangerously within. For a split second she was almost glad her father's staff was unusable.


She would have set the house aflame in her blind emotional rage if she could will the fireball building under the surface to shot out her hands. But all that crept out her skin was a puffs of deep-grey smoke.

She placed the blame immediately on that quiet little white-haired elf, Leto.

Her father and younger brother had freed him from a group of Tevinter slavers traveling up the Imperial Highway on the outskirts of Lothering last year. She had instantly befriended and trusted the shy elf from day one. At 15 she didn't think it was such a bad idea sharing her gift of magic with her quiet elven friend, it appeared he couldn't talk. Her secret would be safe, she thought.

Hawke had tried to make a sad-looking Leto smile by making flowers sprout from one of the family cattle's nostrils. Instead of laughter, he had backed away from her, his large green elven eyes wide with fear and speaking his first words to her: "I hate magic. "

Maybe it had been a mistake to trust the magic-hating elf in her home. She sighed roughly through her teeth trying to rein in her anger.

That's when she heard a soft elven curse come and another boy- her brother's laughter coming from her small wooden wardrobe. "ELF!" she roared, banging her fists on its doors. "Get out here! I know you're in there"

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited a moment for them to crawl out from the hiding spot. The door creaked open slowly, too slowly. Impatient, she sent her foot into one of the weak wood legs of the wardrobe causing it to beak and fall forward at an angle with the two boys tumbling out of it.

"Leto, how could you!" she sniffed, tears burning in the corners of her eyes. " You knew… you knew how much my father's staff means to me and still you go and break it like it's nothing more than a meaningless twig"

The white-haired elf looked up at her like a kicked puppy, trying to shuffle back, his moss green eyes wide as Hawke advanced on him.

"Sister please," Carver pleaded, quickly shifted so he was on his knees between his sister and his elven friend, hands held up in defence "He didn't-"

She cut him off with a sarcastic-fused remark, "So father's staff just decided to shattered on its own then?"

"A… Templar forced him too" her brother said. "He asked if mages lived here, I said 'no' but he knew I was lying to him. He forced his way in and was threatened to kill me.. to kill mother for harbouring mages…"

Carver paused, bitting his lip "Then Leto came out of nowhere and goes-" her brother lowered his voice into an almost mocking version of the elf's voice" 'how dare you threaten such a nice family. Without the Hawke's running the farm so well this town would stave'"

Hawked looked over her younger brother's shoulder at the elf, her eyes asking silently if it was true. He nodded, a single nod so small she would have missed it if she wasn't watching him so closely. Her anger was quickly disappearing and being replaced with confusion.

Why would the elf who hated magic defend her family like that?

"The Templar searched the house and found father's staff and said he'd only leave if it was proven to him that it was just an 'ugly branch' and not a magic device. He held his long-sword to Leto's throat and ordered him to snap it" his gaze settled on the shards of wood across from them and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Hawke" the elf spoke, so softly she nearly missed it. "…I had no choice. I…I.." His next words struggled to reach his tongue, large moss green eyes pleading for her forgiveness. As much as he hated magic he didn't want his hatred for it to drive away the family that had saved him from the Tevinter slavers.

Leto rose to his feet, locking his eyes onto Hawkes azure blue ones, his voice suddenly full of determination and held a low undertone in a promise he'd lose his life before breaking, "I won't let you come to harm, Hawke "

She regarded him for a long moment. How could she stay mad at a face like that? She pinched the bridge of her nose saying, "I forgive you, Leto" smiling she then added "Only if you promise to help me find a new one"

He bowed his head, a habit beaten into him over the years by the slavers "As you wish"