Work Text:
"We're a long way from home, aren't we?"
That was Carver who made the statement, his silver and blue Warden issue armor glinting in the light of the fire. To his left was the dog, sleeping, and to the left of the dog was Hawke, who could not sleep.
"Mmm." Hawke tossed a twig into the fire and watched it go up in little dancing sparks in the night air. She knew exactly what he meant, and it had nothing to do with their physical location and everything to do with where life had taken them. "Do you ever think it's funny? That we started out the way we did. In the country. Avoiding everyone. Nothing mattered except for us. Nothing mattered except the family."
"All the time," Carver said. "When I first picked up a sword it was to keep the family safe. I had no grand ambitions beyond that. Even going to Ostagar, to fight-- that was to keep the family safe. It was never about the world."
"Until it was?" Hawke was still looking at the fire.
"Until it was." Carver nodded. He snorted, then, and half-smiled. "And here we are. I'm saving the world from the darkspawn and you're saving the world from injustices. How about that?"
"Well, you know," said Hawke. "I guess it was a given when we ran out of family to protect." There was a dry edge to her voice; it was as much the truth as it was a joke.
"Maybe," said Carver. "But... every time we go into the Deep Roads, every time I shove my sword through another genlock's throat... I think... I think, this is for Bethany. This is for her. And this is for hurting Mother." He looked down and sighed. "After all these years. I'm still doing it for the family."
Hawke was quiet. She and her brother rarely met up these days, and when they did, they usually didn't talk about the past. It hurt too much, and besides, they were usually focusing on some major threat in the here and now. But she spoke, finally, and said, "For Bethany, and for Mother, and for all the Bethanies and Mothers in the world."
Carver looked over at her.
Hawke continued. "Bethany never saw a Circle, but she was still afraid-- always so afraid. Always so sure her gift was something to be ashamed of. And she was one of the 'lucky' ones! Just the very thought... of templars taking her away in chains..." She spat the words out. "Can you imagine Mother's tears, if that had happened? Because I've thought about it. And I'm... I'm not going to let that happen. To anyone."
Now it was Carver's turn to be quiet, and he let out a breath. "I have a confession. I thought about joining the templars, for a little while. When we were in Kirkwall."
"I know," said Hawke.
"I thought..." Carver looked away. "I thought that surely it couldn't be that bad, that there was a reason for the Order, that it somehow could be justified..." He shook his head. "Thank the Maker for the darkspawn taint! I never thought I'd say that. But becoming a Grey Warden saved me. He--" Carver glanced over at where Anders was sleeping not far from them. "He saved me. I won't forget that."
"Good. Don't." But Hawke was smiling as she said it.
Carver laughed lightly, but then grew serious again. "I don't know what it's like to be a mage. But I do know what it's like to be a Grey Warden. Maker's breath. I don't know how he does it... how he's both. Does he... still have the nightmares?"
"Sometimes," said Hawke. "They've been fewer in number, as the years go by. I'm... hoping that Justice is keeping the taint from spreading. Maybe healing it entirely." She took a breath. "But... it may turn out to be a vain hope, I suppose."
"And if that is the case?" Carver asked, looking back over at her. "If the taint keeps spreading? If he starts to hear..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Hawke knew exactly what he was referring to. "Then I'll follow him down into the Deep Roads and kill the last two archdemons for him," she said matter-of-factly, and there was no room for debate in her voice.
"Heh. You know, somehow I knew you'd say that," said Carver. "And you know what else? I believe you."
They sat there quietly, together, for a few minutes, the crackling of the bonfire and the chirping of a lone cricket the only sound. But Hawke spoke up, eventually, and she said, "I guess we're not such a long way from home after all."
"Nope," said Carver, and he reached over to scratch the dog behind the ears. "Let's keep it that way?"
"Always," said Hawke.