DA: Fairytale I

Once upon a time, in the tiny Kingdom of Lothering, there lived an exasperated queen and her three unremarkable children.

"Oh dear husband Malcolm!" Queen Leandra cried before the poorly painted painting of her long deceased hubby. "Behold our eldest born! Why must he be such a sissy boy? Why??"

"I'm a girl, mother…" said eldest child mumbled, absently herding some stray goats into their pens.

"Foolish boy! Girls do not wear men's clothes! And wear their hair short!" the queen chided before turning her gaze back to the impassive visage of the former King Malcolm Hawke. "Oh husband mine! If only our first born was as manly and virile as you!"

"Mother!" the oldest Hawke protested, face aghast.

"See his baby soft skin! His large, innocent eyes! Those perfectly plush lips! Those dainty limbs," the queen sighed, grasping her eldest child's hands fretfully. "Oh my beautiful boy! If you don't bulk up or act more masculine soon, I fear some hulking, savage bandit may come and steal you away as his man-bride!"

Hawke yanked her tiny fingers from her mother's grasp. "I believe I can take care of myself, mother,"

Queen Leandra tsked patronizingly, cupping her child's face. "Oh my effeminate son. I worry about you so! Between the Blight Lawyers and your dear father's death, I don't know how we will ever keep the farm. Think of your poor siblings!"

Accepting the sudden change in conversation, Hawke merely blinked away the confusion as she pulled her mother's hand away. "I'll think of something mother. We could sell the goats. And old Barlin has some job offers…"

"What! You cannot work for that old farmer Barlin! You are royalty!" Queen Leandra gasped in dire protest. She abruptly moved away, leaning heavily into King Malcolm's portrait. "Oh Malcolm! If only you were here to witness what we have been reduced to!"

"Don't cry mother, please," Hawke sighed, awkwardly patting the weeping woman's shoulder. "Look, Carver, Beth and I are heading to town. Maybe we'll find some odd jobs—worthy of royalty," the eldest child added hastily when her mother's breath abruptly hitched again.

"Don't flirt with any loose women!" Leandra warned suddenly. "And don't go sticking your royal staff into any places it doesn't belong!"

"Mother I can't—you know what? Nevermind. Of course mother. I'll make sure Carver knows that too,"

The queen smiled softly at this, touching her child's cheek with great tenderness. "You're such a good son. You may be a little soft and delicate… but a good son."

Hawke fought down the unrelenting urge to scream.

---

"So where are going?" Bethany chirped happily.

The eldest Hawke child spared her younger sister a glance before continuing forward.

"Work. We need coin to keep the Blight Lawyers at bay."

"Curse those Blight Lawyers! If father were still alive, he'd show them a thing or two!" Carver swore, angrily shaking his fist at the sky.

Although rarely seeing eye to eye with her more aggressive younger brother, the older Hawke couldn't help but agree with this statement. King Malcolm was a force to be reckoned with and seemed to have always expected his eldest child to follow in suit. Alas...

"Brothers! What's going on over there?" Bethany suddenly perked up, pointing to a crowd of people clustered around the Chantry Board.

"Beth!" Hawke cried in despair.

"Oh. Sorry. But you have to admit it's easier to say 'brothers' rather than 'brother and mannish looking sister',"

Hawke frowned, glancing down at her man clothes. "I don't look mannish…" she mumbled doubtfully.

Carver meanwhile had elbowed his way through the throng and was urgently beckoning his siblings. "Take a look at this!"

CALLING ALL CAPABLE HEROES OF FERELDAN
THE WARDEN KING INVITES YOU TO PARTICIPATE IN A COMPETITION OF SKILL AND VIRILITY
TAKE PART IN ALL OUT FIGHT WITH ONLY ONE WINNER
500,000 Gold Coins Reward
Terms & Conditions Apply. See below

Hawke stopped reading. 500,000 gold. 500,000 gold! That… That would be more than enough to save the farm! And then some.

"Carver you should take part!" Bethany's loud squeal interrupted Hawke's internal musings.

Hawke blinked rapidly, shooting a glance at her suddenly nervous male sibling. He agitatedly rubbed his neck, a deep frown marking his features. "Beth… didn't you read the terms and conditions?"

Hawke grew confused at this. Usually Prince Carver Hawke was the first to jump into a competition of any kind. What was wrong? "What terms?"

Bethany folded her arms peevishly, glaring at the notice as if it had personally offended her, which in retrospect it probably had. "Only men can participate! Can you believe that??"

"What??" Hawke echoed, blinking even more rapidly.

"That's not all it says…" Carver started as his eyes rapidly scanned the notice.

"Then, Carver you have to go!" Hawke interrupted, her voice stern.

As usually, Carver chafed under being ordered around by his girly older brother. Sister. Whatever. "Why don't you go??"

"I can't..."

"But think of the gold… think about the farm. About mother." Bethany pleaded.

"But..." Hawke started.

"Huh, you little boys thinking of joining? Huh hurr, don't get yer hopes up," a low, bibulous voice abruptly cut in.

The three Hawke siblings spun about frantically until Carver finally spotted something very red, and very drunk hunched at their feet.

"What do you mean, serrah?" the oldest Hawke questioned, vivid eyes falling into a scowl.

The dwarf bleached obnoxiously before lurching unsteadily towards them. "What I mean pretty boy, is that this here is fer men. Not dainty, delicate little boylings."The red-haired dwarf gave the elder Hawke a once over. "Her her! Yer wouldn't last five rounds in there, nug tails!"

"I would too!" Hawke protested, a sharp fierce outrage growing in her offended heart.

"Blegh. Don't blow yer hot air at me. Talk ain't nothin' if yer don't have the balls to back it up! Counter's over there." A wobbly thumb jerked towards a large table where an entirely too amused looking blond elf sat. "G'on. I dare ya!"

Determined, outraged, and full of righteous fury, Hawke marched determinately towards the table.

"Sister…" Bethany nervously hissed into her ear. "You don't… you're missing something very important to join!"

But Hawke would have none of it! Slamming a dainty fist onto the wooden table, the young woman all but snarled: "Sign me up!"

The blond elf with strange tattoos smirked invitingly, looking at the fuming woman up and down. "Well," he purred, leaning closer. "How could I possibly deny the request of a handsome young man such as yourself?"

'Man'?? Hawke wanted to punch his perfect nose.

He slid an application form, allowing their fingers to brush ever so slightly. "And please. Do not be upset by dear Oghren's manners. It's how he shows his affection!" His voice dipped lower. "Would you care to see how I show mine?"

Hawke said nothing in return, busying herself with filling up the paper form with extreme prejudice. "Here." She clipped, sliding the form back.

The elf seemed a little put off by her behaviour as he accepted the form with a sigh. "I guess you don't play on both sides of the fence mmm?" Not waiting for Hawke's reply he glanced back down at the form. "Hawke from Lothering." He titled his head. "You wouldn't happen to be related to King Malcolm Hawke of Lothering?"

"That was my father,"

"Braska!! Oghren my foul-smelling friend! It seems we have been in the presence of royalty! Not as dignitary as Antivan or Wardens true, but royalty all the same!"

The drunken dwarf appeared to ever so briefly stir from his stupor. "Wha now? Pretty baby face is some royal princeling brat? I get enough of that of that… that… what's his face. Blond face."

"Your descriptions are a marvel! You give beautiful Leliana a run for her coin in bardic poetry!" the elf cooed in mock severity. He then turned back to the awaiting Hawkes, all smiles. Stamping the application form he neatly stacked it atop a slightly intimidating pile. "Thank you for your participation Prince Hawke! I wish you luck,"

"It's Princess Haw— OW"

"Thank you serrah!" Bethany exclaimed in an entirely too cheerful voice before gripping her sister's arm tight. Only once they were out of sight did her sister release her death-like grip.

"Bethany!"

"Sister!"

"Our dear eldest sibling has a point," Carver mumbled, crossing his arms. "I mean, did you read the terms Beth?"

Bethany rounded a glare at her twin brother. "Yes I did. But it's a lot of gold Carver and I'm sure our brave, older sibling is willing to sacrifice to save the farm!" Bethany now shifted to the older sibling in question. "Aren't you?"

"I'd do anything to save the farm…" Hawke admitted slowly, feeling a nagging dread.

"There you go! So stop trying to convince people you're a girl and man up!"

"But. But I am a girl!" Hawke wailed.

"We believe you… sister," Carver ground out grudgingly. "But admittedly you have a better chance than me. Of all of us, you have the best chance of saving father's legacy by winning that competition. There I said it okay,"

"Carver…" Hawke whispered, suddenly full of emotions. They never saw eye to eye much so these moments were rare indeed.

"Do the Hawke name proud," Bethany smiled.

---

The next day, Hawke found herself approaching a large stage wherein a huge crowd had already gathered. Two combatants would face off and the victor would move to the next round and so on. Already the fighting was beginning in earnest.

Hawke stepped up to the platform where a disinterested looking dark-haired man with a hooked nose waited. "Participants only boy, clear off."

Boy?? "I'm a participant," Hawke defended with a scowl.

The man gave Hawke a once over and shook his head. "Damn elf. Only interested in signing the pretty ones. What's your name boy?" he sighed miserably.

"Hawke."

Lethargically, he thumbed through the list of applications before frowning. "Prince Hawke of Lothering?"

Princess! "Whatever," Hawke sighed, desolate but accepting.

He waved her along, passing her form to an awaiting but unfamiliar female dwarf. "Our next challenger is  Prince Hawke of Lothering! The challenge is simple. Whoever successfully navigates the Warden Death Maze of Detriment, and reaches the idol first, wins!"

"Good luck brother!" Bethany's voice cheered in the distance below the stage. Hawke gritted her teeth.

---

To be continued...