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Chapter Text

Cora Hawke lay on her oversized bed staring at the white wolf carving sitting on her nightstand. The wolf gazed back with green eyes and wore a red band on its right foreleg. She stared at it every night since it had magically appeared the night Fenris had come to comfort her after her mother’s death. She knew the elf had left it for her, had made it for her. The only thing he had ever said about it had been in Tevinter. She had had to ask third parties what he had said.

*I will always watch over you.*

She smiled despite herself. For years she had slept with it by her bed and he had never left her side. He had always stood beside her or silently in the shadows. Always ready to offer his sword or a strong word or even a finely timed glare. He was so close and yet so far away.

She wished it could be different, that he’d come back for good. He always knew when something bothered her and offered to listen or just his reassuring presence. During the weeks after her mother’s death, he has always been at the mansion at night watching over her.

Earlier in the day they had finally confronted and defeated Danarius but at the cost of his sister who only valued ambition and power. The opportunity Fenris sacrifice had given her, she had squandered. He hadn’t killed her but he might as well have.

The look in his green eyes when he’d said he had nothing left, no family, not even an enemy had broken her heart. She’d told him he still had her. He looked hopeful, scared, and ashamed all at the same time. She fully expected him to retreat into himself over the next few weeks. Her greatest fear was that he’d leave Kirkwall. And she would be alone…

Her friends would still be there and they meant the world to her. But Fenris had filled a hole in her heart she hadn’t known existed. And now she couldn’t bear to be without the elf; even if it meant only being comrades in arms. She would take it.

Cora let out a ragged breath as she reached out to trace the smoothed carved lines of the wolf’s fur. It must have taken him hours to fine tune all the details.

“If only…”

“If only what, Hawke?” a soft, strong voice called from behind her. The Ferelden froze for a split second and then rolled over. Standing stoically by the opened window was Fenris. The night air blew over her from the window as he leaned against the stone, arms crossed. The last of the sunlight was fast fading away as it highlighted his snowy white hair.

As she composed herself she sat up on the bed, quickly trying to think of anything to say that he would actually believe. Nothing came to mind, so that is what she answered feebly. “Nothing.”

“I find that hard to believe. And you don’t lie very convincingly to me. You never have been able to,” he observed as his gaze trailed from her to the crafted wolf and back to her.

“Fenris, why are you here?” she asked finding her voice again. With a little annoyance she added, “And why come unarmed and through the window to my bedroom?”

“I can no more lie to you than you to me,” he said rising to his full height. His unruly hair shielded his eyes as he admitted, “I needed to see you, alone.”

Hawke cocked her head. He never refused to look her in the eye unless it was a rare instance where he felt shame. “Fenris? Is everything alright?” she quietly, knowing it was a stupid question but she lacked a better response to her actions.

“I, no,” he said simply as he glanced up at her finally. His green eyes full of longing and sadness.

She instantly sat up all the way, curling her legs underneath her. She held a hand out to him without hesitation as she said, “What troubles you?”

He crossed the room with silent elven grace as he said, “Earlier, you said I still had you. Why? We’ve not spoken about that night three years ago…”

Hawke suddenly felt unsure and very vulnerable under his intense stare. “You didn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

Fenris shook his head as she started to pace. “I was a fool. To be given such a gift and to run away from it like a coward.”

She watched him walk back and forth silently. Had the resolution to the situation with Danarius confused him that much? His actions were the polar opposite of what she had expected. “You’re not a coward, Fenris. Far from it…”

“How can you look at me with that? How could I have not hurt you? You never once told me to leave your side,” he said confusion evident in her voice. “I…I should have asked for your forgiveness long ago.”

She continued to gaze at him kindly lovingly as she asked, “What is there to forgive?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked into her deep blue eyes. She didn’t hate him for his actions 3 years ago? If anything, he could swear she still wanted to help him and still cared for him…

“Hawke, I…If I could go back to that night I would have stayed. I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I am not worthy of a woman like you…”

“Fenris, I only wanted to know why you left…Did I—“

“No, it was not you. You did nothing but offer care, comfort, and concern. It was the memories. Having then all come back at once. It was overwhelming…I should have stayed…I would have told you…”

“What would you have said?”

“I would have told you that I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, of being without you. And nothing would make me happier than facing the future by your side…”

Hawke smiled in spite of herself. “I’d like that very much.”

As he smiled at her she added shyly, “Will you stay now?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

“Cora…” he said caressing her cheek lightly with his gauntlet.

“Nothing has to happen. I just want to be with you,” she said clasping his hand in both of her smaller ones.

“I am yours always, my Lady Hawke,” he replied as the elf leaned over her and kissed her gently.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved one knee onto the edge of the bed. Snaking one hand around her waist; he knotted the other in her long brown locks. Steadily increasing the pressure of the kiss, Cora suddenly found that she wanted less between herself and her handsome elf.

“Fenris,” she breathed between kisses. “Armor off…starting to hurt.”

The former slave instantly pulled back, fearing he may have really hurt her. “I…I am sorry. I—“

She placed a finger over his lips to quiet him as she smiled at him. “I’m alright. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable without at least the chest plate and gauntlets on?”

He stared at her. “Is this all part of your plan to completely undress me?”

“No, I think I would be more creative if I actually had a plan…”

He gave her a low chuckle as he began pulling off his armor. Cora reached out to help take off the breast plate but Fenris caught her hands. “Don’t…You don’t need to do that…I can—“

“I know that, but I want to. I want to help…”

Finally he nodded his approval as she slid it over his head. She flashed him a grin as she moved his armor to a chair next to the bed. “Wait,” he said as he untied the red piece of cloth from his right gauntlet and put it back around the same wrist. She watched him in fascination as he turned back to her.

“What? Is something wrong?” he asked afraid he had done something to offend her.

“Nothing is wrong. I just wonder why…”

“Why what?”

“Why did you wear that for so long? I don’t mind it. I like it but I just wondered…’

He cocked his head at her with a small smile. “Because it is yours as am I.”

“Fenris,” she said softly as he cupped her cheek.

“My heart belonged to you the moment I saw you. I would gladly be a slave to your desires if it would make you happy.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want a slave or anything like that—“

“What do you want?”

“You. Just you as you want me. You have my heart as well. I just want you to be able someday to say that you love me…”

He looked at her fondly knowing she realized how hard it was for him to admit his feelings sometimes. “That day may be closer than you think, Hawke. Until then know that I will never leave your side.”

“Or I yours,” she replied as she leaned forward and kissed him gently. She tugged at his shirt silently asking him to lay on the bed with her. He complied without hesitating as she laid her head upon his shoulder.

They lay on the bed for a long time in contented silence. Cora listening to his heartbeat as Fenris traced patterns on her back lightly. She realized they were in the shape of the lyrium markings on his own back.

She raised her head to see green eyes peering back at her. “Is something wrong?”

“Um, well, I was actually going to ask you the same question. I was wondering if your…markings were hurting.”

The Tevinter elf regarded her curiously as he continued his ministrations on her back. She took his silence as a need for further explanation.

“It’s just I know sometimes after you use your power especially if you are very angry they hurt. I don’t want to cause you any discomfort—“

“Then lay back down and let me assure you that your touch never caused me pain. Quite the opposite. Your touch and your presence I find quite soothing,” he said as she slowly placed her head upon his chest.

When she said nothing in reply, he took her hand and kissed the palm, “Let us just lay here for a little while and shut out the rest of the world’s problems. Just for a moment.”

He felt her smile as the last bit of sunlight faded away. The evening air blew gently over the couple as contented sleep took them. At least for the moment Fenris had found peace at last.

Chapter Text

“Hawke, I agreed to let you teach me to read but why must we read this?” Fenris asked sourly as he sat in bed, leaning against the headboard.

The night air blew through the open window, rustling the pages of the offending book in his lap. The upstairs room had long ago been cleaned up and furnished with the minimal necessary for habitation. Still residing in the abandoned mansion, the former slave had left the entrance way and down stairs relatively untouched. A few of the upper rooms had been slowly reclaimed and made presentable. Now the elf shared quarters with Hawke either at his place or her estate.

She smiled at him, her hair falling into her eyes. She had begun to let her hair grow out once again, having cut it severely short after her mother’s death in a fit of grief. “You let me pick. We could be reading Varric’s Swords and Shields.”

Fenris cursed in Tevene. “I do not need to read that horrible excuse for a book.”

Hawke wiggled her eyebrows. “Then there’s always a copy of Ander’s manifesto. There are a dozen copies back at the estate. I could loan you one or a few.”

His green eyes grew wide in disbelief as he growled out, “I have no need to read that…trash. I hear it enough every time you insist we need his help.”

“But it might help you with larger words…Anders likes littering his works with multiple syllable words,” she teased as she made a face. “He is the only decent healer among us anyway.”

“It is the same words over and over,” Fenris muttered as he turned back to the book in his lap, clearly annoyed that the very mention of the apostate mage.

Cora watched him as he fiddled with the red cloth he always wore around his wrist. “How do you know that?”

“Varric read parts of it to me,” the elf admitted softly as he adjusted the cloth to straighten the family crest symbol.

Hawke tilted her head deciding to keep pushing. “But repetition can help you learn the words better.”

“I will not read the Maker forsaken manuscript!” he exclaimed looking back to see her grinning. The mischievous expression she continued to wear was her undoing.

He tossed the book aside and pounced her. Wrestling her to the mattress, he growled, “Why do insist in provoking me so? You know how I dislike such behavior.”

“Not from me you don’t,” she purred from under him. “You think its…invigorating.”

He narrowed his green eyes at her. He knew all too well how playful and provocative she could be if she were given the chance. It reminded him of the first time she had flirted with him. He had been caught off guard by the act. He had not expected the usually quiet woman to engage in flirting especially with him, an escaped elven slave. But as he had come to understand, none of that mattered to her. Eventually he had began flirting back if only to have something entertaining to do.

It wasn’t until Anders had made comment about their flirting that he understood it was more than entertainment to her. She meant it. Hawke meant it in a way completely different than Isabela, where casual sex was the usual. She had made it clear to the apostate mage and the rest of their merry band of misfits that she wouldn’t tolerate rude or inappropriate comments regarding their banter. Anders was the only one that dared to go against that, hoping to drive a wedge between them.

And now Fenris found himself on top of that feisty reserved woman wanting to be the only one she flirted with. He moved a hand to caress her face, moving her bangs out of her eyes. “You enjoy seeing how far you can push me. Since the first day we met you have done so.”

“To be far, it started out as payback for hiring me to do your work for you,” she said with a wink.

His thumb grazed her lips. “Have I paid you back sufficiently, my Lady Hawke, or do I continue to owe you a debt?”

“You owe me nothing,” she murmured kissing the pad of his thumb.

The sincere look in her eyes caused a smile to tug at his lips. He kissed her lightly as he mused, “Perhaps not but you will continue to tease me for the remainder of your days.”

The elven warrior watched as a curious expression passed across her face. He frowned. “What?”

“Does…Does that mean you want to stay with me for…”

He smiled down at her, a smile reserved only for her. “I would stay at your side for the remainder of my days if you were to permit it.”

“How can you want to?” Hawke asked as the barriers she always wore broke down. Her voice shook as she went on, “All my life people have left or died because of me. How could you want to stay with me knowing that?”

Fenris cocked his head. Very few times in the years he had known her had she broken down in such a manner. As the oldest Hawke child, she had been charged with keeping the family safe in her father’s stead. Then one by one, her siblings and mother had died or left. Though Bethany was in the Gallows she was not free to live in the family estate. Gamlen still resided in Low Town and there was his daughter Charade, but they were not close. Their friends were the most family she had, and he knew that.

“No one left you because of you or anything you have done,” Fenris said firmly, stroking her hair in reassurance. “You are not cursed. People come and go in our lives. The good ones. The ones we miss are the ones that are meant to stay with us even after their passing. They are the ones we want to honor with how we live our lives…All the others, the ones that leave and we are glad they are gone? They were meant to show us something was a mistake or that we can do better the next time.”

“And those that stay?” she asked softly, her voice still small.

He smiled. “Those that stay wish to travel the same path as you, wish to help you endure your trials, help you carry your burden and make it lighter. They wish to travel as far as they can with you because they could not imagine their life without you in it.”

“Fenris,” she breathed as she ran a hand through his white locks. “How did you become so wise?”

“I have learned many things by observing,” he replied as he kissed her forehead. “And by making mistakes…”

“Fen, we talked about that…There is nothing to forgive,” she said returning to the Hawke everyone knew, the reassuring, selfless woman he had fallen for years prior. “We are together now.”

“And that is the only reason I allow you to call me Fen,” he teased in a husky tone as he nipped at her ear. “I wish to keep dispensing words of wisdom a while longer if the Champion of Kirkwall is willing.”

“Oh, Maker,” she whined. “You aren’t really going to start that again are you?”

“Perhaps if our reading sessions included less…smutty literature you enjoy ambushing me with,” Fenris murmured as he kissed a line down her neck to her shoulder.

“But the smutty literature could give us ideas to try…”

He nipped at her collarbone. “I do not need ideas on how to please you, Cora.”

He felt her shiver as he continued to lick and suck his way back to her throat up to her ear. “Fen, I want…I just want to…able to stay with someone and…not worry they will leave.”

Fenris kissed her temple. “I swear to you I will never leave you again…no matter what types of books you present me with.”

Hawke giggled as he blew in her ear. “I believe you. It’s just hard sometimes…with everything that has happened.”

He rolled to his side pulling her back to his chest as he retrieved the book. “Just remember I will always be at your side even when your choice in books is questionable.”

She poked him in the ribs as she retorted, “I could bring Anders manifesto next time.”

“And I will burn it before it crosses the threshold of this house,” Fenris stated firmly. “Then I will find every ticklish spot you have and exploit them without hesitation.”

“I am not ticklish.”

“Bethany says otherwise,” he replied.

“You talked to Bethany?”

“I have been permitted to visit once in a while…I tell her how you are truly doing.”

“Fen…I…thank you…I—Just thank you.”

He kissed her temple once more. “You never need thank me, Cora. Ever. I want to be here with you. Remember that always, smutty books and manifestoes or not.”

Chapter Text

Cora Hawke walked up the stairs to Varric Tethras’ private quarters in The Hanged Man. He had said earlier in the day after they had solved yet another problem for the city. Being the Champion of Kirkwall had elevated her well above her station as the deceased Viscount Dumar had stated years ago. The woman who had named her that though now seemed to be regretting it. Knight-Commander Meredith had begun consolidating her power and influence, attempting to steer Hawke in the direction of ally. If that didn’t work, the Ferelden was sure the Templar Commander would attempt to eliminate her. Walking the delicate balance between mage and templar had become a way of life. Trying to remember the citizens of Kirkwall who would be caught in the middle was ever present in her mind.

Hawke knocked on the ever-opened door. The dwarf glanced up from his writing and beamed. “Ah, Hawke! You made it.”

“How could I refuse an invitation to one of your attempts to pry personal information from me?” she asked as she came in an sat down next to him.

He placed his hands over his heart. “Hawke, you wound me. I would never pry…I expect you to give it up freely.”

She made a face as she snagged an apple from a bowl on the large table. She by nature was a quiet person but the dwarf had a way of putting her at ease that allowed her freedom to converse as she did with only a very few. “Sure. Whatever. But since I am the only one of our little group here and you have no business you are conducting currently; you want something from me.”

The dwarf grimaced just a bit. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

She bit into the apple, motioning for him to continue. He had a serious side to him and aside from Aveline was her oldest friend. When he got the notion to be protective, she listened. It wasn’t something she saw often but had always respected it.

“People say you and the elf--you know the angsty Tevinter one--are becoming quite the item,” Varric began getting straight to the point. He leaned forward. “So, what’s going on Hawke?”

Cora couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned back in the chair, the fire crackling behind them. “Well, well, well. Never knew you were the type, Varric. I’m flattered.”

“Hawke, I know I’m damned near irresistible, but you’re just too high maintenance for me. Sorry.” He apologized humorously. It was a running joke between them that his crossbow Bianca was the only one for him. The way he talked to his weapon lead many to draw the same conclusion.

“Listen, as your friend. I feel like I would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t say something,” he replied turning serious again. Looking her straight in the eye, he continued, “You do know the elf is covered in spikes, like an angsty porcupine? He might even have some…issues.”

She raised an eyebrow deciding to allay his concerns with humor. “In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you the impression that I was turned off by crazy?”

The author laughed as he held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, point taken.”

Smirking, she added, “Besides the spikes come off and we both have issues.”

“That first part may be more than I needed to know,” Varric noted as he returned to his writing. “But issues? Can you really work through those with a broody elf?”

“He’s not broody all the time. There is a sense of humor buried under there…and other things,” Hawke said wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I don’t need to know the other things,” he said waving his hand dismissively. He frowned and then added, “Actually on second thought, it might make for interesting reading.”

She made a face. “You really want to know that he’s threatened to find all of my ticklish spots?”

Varric glanced up at her. “Does that involve fore play?”

Hawke shook her head. “Nope. Not telling.”

As she concentrated on her apple, she listened in amusement as the author began speaking his thoughts on the subject aloud. Reaching for a new piece of paper as he did so, he was either clueless as to the exact nature of her sex life or embellishing it to get a rise out of her. Either way, she sat for the next hour listening to his thoughts on the subject, thankful Fenris was not present. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t show him the rough draft Varric had written out and given her at some point. After the passed few months, teasing the elf was on of the pleasures she took without hesitation. His reactions were always worth the scolding he gave.

~~~~~~~~

“You will not see that abomination alone.”

It was an argument they had even before they had resumed their relationship. It was one Fenris would never let go. He was wary of mages and magic in general. He had learned to trust Bethany and even visited her in the Gallows multiple times before he had ever told Hawke. He tolerated Merrill and Anders, not having turned either in. But he never let his guard down around what he considered a blood mage and an abomination. He wasn’t totally incorrect, but Hawke didn’t have the heart to deny their friendship. They had been through too much for that.

Fenris knew that but he still insisted on being in the party whenever he knew Anders was going. Regardless of his personal feelings, he was one hell of a fighter and Hawke was hard pressed not to spend as much time with him as she could, even if it was into battle.

“Fine,” she replied. “But could you just…I don’t know…Hang in the background…Be there but not be in his face. He wanted to asked me a favor.”

“All the more reason to go,” Fenris retorted. “The last time he asked for a favor, he wanted to break into the chantry to rescue a mage friend and killed some templars.”

She let out a sigh. He would never fully trust a mage. She knew that. She knew Bethany was probably the only mage that came close to having his complete trust. She wasn’t sure if that was because they were sisters or because the younger Hawke had earned that on her own. Maybe is was both. Either way, she was grateful for that at least.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m going to try something, and I thought you’d want to be part of it,” Anders stated as his eyes flickered from her to the elf leaning against the wall near the door to the Darktown clinic. “I’ve been wrong. What I did with Justice is unnatural. It should never have happened.”

“Is there some way to undo it?” Hawke knew her face had to show surprise. Ever since he had agreed to show them the maps to the deep roads, the former Grey Warden had insisted he had done the right thing to help a friend. Now he was changing his mind…

He nodded keeping his eyes on her. “I’ve spent the last three years researching the methods of Tevinter magisters.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Fenris muttered from behind her. So far he had stayed in the background as she had asked. The comment came as no surprise though. There was no love loss between the two men, and she had her suspicions that she was the only thing keeping them from being at each other’s throats some days.

“They’re the only ones who have ever sought to reverse spirit possession, not just behead the victims,” the mage replied pointedly ignoring the elf’s presence. His voice grew softer as he continued, “I believe I have a formula for a potion that can separate Justice and me. Without killing either.”

“Is it dangerous?” she asked knowing the answer already. Growing up with a father and sister who were mages had made her very aware of how dangerous magic could be in the wrong hands.

“There are always dangers with magic. But I believe this will be worth the cost.” Anders’ admission caught her off guard yet again. What had happened to change his mind so thoroughly? Why had he not told her before they he had been looking for a way to reverse it?

“Surely its worth the risks it entails.” Without inquiring further, she had agreed with his request and his sudden change of heart. Maybe all the trial Kirkwall had put him through had finally helped him see the truth.

A smile spread across the tall man’s features for a moment and then he trailed off. “I knew you’d stand behind me. Even if…”

“What?” she asked uncertain why he had stopped. Surely he knew they were friends. They had their differences, but they were still friends.

“Nothing.” He looked away from her, briefly glancing at Fenris and then back to her. Seeming to pause to collect his thoughts, he returned to the original subject. “I’ve gathered most of what I need but there are some outlandish ingredients I was hoping you’d help me collect.”

“We can start whenever you are ready. Just let me know,” Hawke offered with a smile. Finally, he was seeing the dangers in his choice. She knew the urge to help a friend was great but sometimes it overrode common sense. She had been a victim of it on more than one occasion. She was sure that was one of the reasons Fenris had insisted he come with her.

Jarring her from her introspective thoughts, Anders had moved closer. His much taller form looming over her as he uttered in a lower voice, “Look, it isn’t my place to criticize, but are you sure about Fenris? He seems less a man to me than a wild dog.”

“You just don’t know him.” Her words were calm, but her emotions broiled under the surface. She curled her hands into fists, keeping them at her sides. She caught movement behind the mage. Fenris. He had circle around the perimeter of the room without either of them noticing. She should have expected that the moment Anders moved closer to her.

“I know as much as I’m ever likely to,” Anders admitted flatly. “He has no interest in knowing me. I’m a mage. That is all I will ever be to him.”

“That’s right, mage.” Fenris interjected using the word as a curse. He circled around the taller man to stand beside Hawke.

Anders said, pointedly ignoring the elf’s presence. “He has let one bad experience color his whole world. Surely you want someone more opened minded.”

“A mage and a hypocrite. What company you keep.” Fenris commented before she could formulate a response.

She bit the inside of her cheek. She hated it when they argued, especially when they or any of her friends argued about her. To his credit Fenris remained calm as Anders retorted, “Hypocrite? You think all mages are evil because of how they were born!”

“Not all mages,” the Tevinter elf replied. “Bethany I think quite highly of. She keeps her power in check and despite all the horrible things that have happened to her and her family she remains ever vigilant.”

Anders made a face Hawke wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Bethany? She’s in the Circle. The Gallows. She was taken away. How is she such an inspiration?”

“She volunteered to go. It was her choice to turn herself in,” Fenris replied as Hawke looked away. He knew the truth of it. Maybe more than she did. Her younger sister seemed to be able to confide in the elf things she could not to her own blood. “She had risen to the rank of senior enchanter and over sees the education and training of many of the younger mages. Knight-Captain Cullen seems to be pleased with some of the changes she had been able to institute. More training and education concerning the dangers of magic and how to resist its temptations.”

“This coming from an elf who only ever thinks mages cause horrible things to happen,” Anders mumbled. “I happen to have healed more people than I have caused injury to, except darkspawn. I am a healer. I have healed the woman you claim to care for. Would she still live if I hadn’t? Where would you be then, elf?”

“If she died because of you…” Fenris stopped feeling Hawke’s hand on his arm. He turned to look at her, green eyes full of anger that melted into adoration. “Forgive me.”

She nodded as she turned her attention back to Anders. “You both will never see eye to eye on this. Your pasts have shaped you, but you don’t have to let them control you. Either way I will help you find the ingredients for your potion, but you must realize my heart belongs to Fenris.”

“I—Thank you but he—”

“Drop it, Anders. You are my friend. I want to keep it that way, but you will not speak ill of my sister again. She made a choice. Freely whether you agree with it or not,” Hawke said evenly. “Fenris has visited her many times. Everyone else visits or writes to her. The Knight-Captain has been more than accommodating and sends word on her progress and activities within the Circle as his duties allow. Just because she doesn’t share you exact notion of what a mage should do, does not make her choices any less valid.”

“She left you behind…” Anders uttered softly, his eyes showing how much he didn’t understand Bethany’s decision even nearly six years later.

“I left her behind thinking I was protecting her. Maybe I was actually giving her the room to make the choices she felt she never could because she was in my shadow,” Hawke corrected as she began moving to leave. “And Bethany is a strong person. Stronger than me. If anyone left anyone, it was me.”

“Hawke, that is not true—” Ander began reaching for her retreating form.

“Let me know when you are ready,” she said turning away. Throwing over her shoulder she added, “You should at least write Bethany if you won’t visit her. She has been asking after you.”

Hawke left the Darktown clinic without looking back. Her friend had changed over the passed 6 years. His jokes and smiles were almost non-existent. She agreed that the Circle, especially the Gallows, was not the real solution to the dangers of magic. But the revolution Anders had been touting for the past few years wasn’t either. It was almost as if he was being changed or consumed by the spirit of Justice within him. But she wasn’t so sure it was Justice any longer. It was more like Vengeance.

“You should not let him upset you so,” Fenris’ voice called to her outside the clinic. “He has chosen to walk a dark path. It is up to him if he will truly heed the concerns of those that care for him. You are not responsible.”

She took a deep breath as they made their way out of Darktown. She knew he was right. Hawke glanced at him as they walked side by side. “Why…Why would he think Bethany was weak? She was the strongest of us. Keeping her magic so tightly controlled so none of us would be endanger…She gave up so much to keep us safe.”

“She says the same of you, Cora,” he murmured as they arrived at the lift to take them back to the surface. “She did leave to try and find her own way. She hopes you will find yours as well.”

Hawke was quiet on the ride up as Fenris stood quietly beside her, their hands brushing. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead she held his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand saying nothing. He didn’t have to. As always his presence was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fenris had walked her back to the Amell estate and followed her to her room in silence. She knew he would, and he would probably insist on staying. She was in no mood to shoo him away. In fact, she hadn’t asked him to leave anytime he decided to stay since he’d appeared in her room that night. The night she had held the wolf he had carved her and said if only.

She heard the bedroom door close as she picked up the same wolf. She heard the sounds of armor being shed as she ran her fingers across the detailed features of the carved wooden animal. How could he have acquired the skill necessary to do it? He was an escaped slave groomed to be a bodyguard, a weapon to both protect his master and intimidate other magisters…

She suddenly felt hands in her hair; the ribbon she had worn set on the side table. A lyrium tattooed hand reached around her and picked up her brush. She closed her eyes as he began brushing her hair. Granted she had never been one to dress up or use cosmetics to enhance her looks, but she had taken pride in her hair. Her mother had always bragged about her hair and helped her maintain a healthy mane. When she had died she had cut it, not able to take the constant reminder. Now she was letting it grow out again.

“I am pleased that you have chosen to grow your hair out once again,” Fenris admitted as he finished his task. Placing the brush back on the table, he leaned in towards her ear. “What are you thinking of, amatus?”

Hawke glanced over her shoulder into his expressive green eyes. “I—What does that mean? Amatus?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “It is Tevene for beloved.”

“Beloved,” she repeated unsure if she heard him correctly.

“Yes,” he confirmed as he covered her hands with his. The wolf his focus. “I had never made anything for anyone before…It was a skill I picked up simply to keep my hands busy. To keep from doing something I would regret…Being hunted for so long left me little options. This was something I could do anywhere…Wherever the chase took me.”

“Are you still being chased now?” she asked as she turned to him fully.

The elf huffed. “Only by you, amatus. But I believe that chase is over.”

“You…We are together now but you made this for me before…After that night, when you left…You never stopped caring,” she sputtered out as he took the wolf from her.

“I was not in a place to give you what you truly needed,” Fenris admitted cupping her cheek. “I could be your friend, your protector, your shadow, but I could not be your soulmate when mine was in such turmoil…You helped quell my anger and enabled me to see the path I needed to take. And now I am here…I still have unresolved issues, but I want your help. I want to face them at your side.”

Hawke leaned into his hand. “Then stay here. With me. Anytime you want. I…I don’t want to be alone.”

“Ego non repinquam vos semper iterum,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her. She returned the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He cradled her head as his other hand dropped to her waist. “I will never leave you ever again.”

“Fen,” she whispered as she buried her head in his shoulder.

“You are stronger than you think, Cora,” the Tevinter elf said earnestly as he held her. “I will always be here to remind you. No matter what.”

Chapter Text

“Fasta vass!”

The swear rang out from the upper level of the borrowed mansion as Hawke entered it. It was still early in the morning and she knew of no reason the elven warrior should be angry. She had already spoken to Aveline that morning after Bodahn had received a note from the Guard-Captain. Apparently Donnic had voiced some concern about Fenris after their game of Diamond Back the night before. The elf had been unusually distracted and not drinking despite the open bottle that sat beside him the whole night.

Fenris was a social drinker and had in the beginning of his tenure in the abandoned mansion indulged in frequent solitary drinking as well. Now he only did so in moderation and usually with those he considered friends. The weekly games of Diamondback with Donnic and a few others was one of those time. His abstinence from drinking during a game was nearly unheard of and enough to even worry Aveline, arguably the most level headed of their little group of misfits. That is why Hawke found herself at his mansion at the moment wondering what could have upset him so. The last she had seen of him he was smirking after kissing her senseless before he left her estate after dinner.

Closing the door quietly, she began ascending the stairs. More words in Tevene she could only assume were curses rang out from a room Fenris had begun to use as storage after cleaning the mansion. Hesitantly she walked toward the room, knowing full well how dangerous an upset or angry Fenris could be. She had seen it when dealing with Hadriana and Danarius. She had thought both times she might lose him to his anger and need for vengeance. Somehow he had found his way out of that dark cycle of revenge and was attempting to live a new life, one that involved her.

Putting that aside, Hawke moved to stand at the doorway of the room. The sight of the usually calm elf throwing things about greeted her. Concern for him overrode any sense of self-preservation as she crossed the space to him as he lifted a wooden chair to throw next. “Fenris.”

He either ignored her or didn’t hear her as he threw it towards the window. The glass shattered as he reached for another piece of defuncted furniture to hurl. “Fenris,” she said louder catching him by the upper arm.

He whirled around on her with the speed she usually saw him exhibit during battle. It had never been turned on her before except once. Their first night together. He had come to her estate attempting to talk about what had happened with his sister. They had gotten into a small argument, Fenris almost leaving. She had stopped him by grabbing his arm causing him to flare his lyrium markings and pinning her to the wall. She felt the familiar hum of his marking as the lyrium etched into his skin glowed.

His green eyes were wild, his expression one of anger as he grabbed her by the collar of her tunic. His breath was ragged as he continued to glow. Not moving, Hawke said quietly, “Fen.”

The warrior instantly released her, his markings fading as he took a step back. Turning from her, he muttered, “Kaffas.”

Hawke waited a handful of moments before she spoke. “I’m here.”

He glanced at her quickly and then growled, angry at himself. “I realize that…now. I should not have turned on you like I did. Forgive me?”

“Only if you tell me what has you in such a state,” she replied firmly. “Both Donnic and Aveline are concerned.”

“Aveline?” he repeated confused as he took a breath.

“Whatever happened last night during your game, Donnic told Aveline. Aveline sent a message to me this morning. I went to the Keep and now I am here watching you redecorate this room in a very unorthodox manner,” she explained with a shrug, doing her best to keep her anxiety hidden. Loosing his temper like this had always revolved around either those sent after him to reclaim him or a threat at directed at her.

Fenris growled again as he left the room. She watched as he went to his bedroom across the hall and retrieved a letter. In the passed three years, his reading had improved greatly. He was still more at ease reading to himself rather than others, but she was proud that he had accepted the offer to learn to start with and prouder that he had stuck with it.

He handed it to her. “I received this yesterday, shoved under my door after I returned from your estate. I did not read it until this morning, but I knew where it was from. The seal gives it away. I did not know who it was from until this morning.”

His expression told her he wanted her to read it. As she unfolded the paper, Fenris began cleaning up the room silently. He offered no more explanation as she noticed the seal of the Tevinter Imperium on the outer envelope. Refocusing on the actual letter, she found it written in flowing female script in common. Who from Tevinter would know he was here in an abandoned mansion in Kirkwall?

Leto~

I am well aware that you would not expect nor want anything from me. Even so, you are still my brother and whatever you believe of me, mother would not want us to hate each other. You may not believe this, but I know it. I remember.

Whatever you thought would result from bringing me to Kirkwall, I know you did not expect Danarius to be there. I had no choice. What I told you of my status in the Imperium is true. I am a tailor and I was attempting to train as an apprentice. I am a mage. I am apparently everything you have come to despise. I cannot help that. We are what are circumstances and chance has made us.

Seeing you again, not remembering who I was, your previous life, you are not the brother I remember just as I am the sister you do not recall. I am a mage. I am what you now seem to hate. Maybe it is better this way. Mother is gone. You have a new name and a new life. Perhaps I may find my own way someday.

Until then, you should know that after Hadriana was killed by you, Danarius took on another apprentice. After his death, all of his holdings, wealth—everything—was inherited by him. His name is Arrius. He seems to have no desire to recapture you, but he has made a show of placing a bounty on you and your female, Hawke. He will not actively seek either of you out himself but that will not stop others from attempting to collect the bounty.

Arrius made all this clear to me in person. He sees nothing to be gained by wasting time and resources on you. He considers you too dangers to continue chasing you. He must maintain face hence the bounties. He assures me that I will be left alone as well and has given me a small sum to start a new life away from his influence. I will try. If you can start over, what can’t I?

Whatever happens, I should think you will never see nor hear from me again. It is clear that you hate magic and therefore mages. I cannot deny what I am, but I assure you I will not speak of you to anyone. That is one promise I can keep.

You would have killed me if your woman had not told you to stop. Family means nothing to you now. Blood means nothing to you. Only your precious freedom. Now you have it. I still believe you ended up with the better part of the bargain. You still follow the orders of others even while you claim freedom. For everything you have forgotten, you must know that any around you will never truly be safe.

Enjoy your freedom knowing the price others paid for it. You have lost your family. You will always be alone.

Varania

Hawke glanced up from the letter understanding what had set him off now. She found the elf leaning against the broken window, the gentle breeze moving his snow-white hair. She folded up the letter, put it back in its envelope, and set it on a nearby shelf. Softly she said, “You know you are not alone. I’m here, Fenris.”

She heard him make a snorting sound. She knew she was echoing the words she had uttered after the incident with Danarius and Varania, but they were no less true. He turned ever so slightly to her. “I am well aware you are here. I know that I am not alone any longer.”

The Ferelden frowned as she walked towards him. “If that is not what angers you, what—”

“She pointed out that she would never speak of me to anyone. She purposely reminded me that being around me can be dangerous,” Fenris interjected as he turned to her fully. “She means that she would turn on you. Tell others of you to spite me! My own sister. The one you said I should save! She would see you dead…”

He trailed off, his green eyes falling to the carpeted floor. She came to stand beside him, resisting the urge to touch him. Even with their renewed relationship, she was hesitant to touch him when he was overly emotional. Being overwhelmed seemed to influence his markings without him realizing it and she had no desire to cause him more distress. Instead she said, “Many consider being around me dangerous as well. I think we can handle things that might come our way, whether its from Tevinter or elsewhere.”

“She would see bounty hunters sent after you if the opportunity arose,” he said through gritted teeth as he met her gaze.

Hawke frowned at his words. “But she’s your sister and she didn’t say it—”

“Even you can discern a thinly veiled threat, Hawke,” he admonished as he took a half-step towards her, eroding away any space she had left between them. “She is bitter and needs someone to blame for her plight. If that need be me, fine. But she will not cause you harm.”

“Fenris, she is still your sister even if you never see her again,” Hawke replied gently. “Could you really have live with yourself if you killed her and then remembered your life from before? What if you remember your mother someday? Do you really think she would have wanted you to kill Varania?”

“Festis bei umo canvarum, Cora,” he muttered as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest.

She rested her arms around his neck as she laughed softly. She had become used to the words over the years when he was frustrated with her, usually because she was correct. “Fen, I have no intention of causing your death directly or indirectly.”

He tightened his hold on her slightly a he sighed. “You are impossible.”

“You would have it no other way,” Hawke retorted as she slowly traced the marking on his upper back and neck.

He tensed for only a split second and then relaxed into her. He had been there for her even during the time they weren’t together. When her mother had been murdered, he had been the one to comfort her. They had mostly sat in her room silently, staring at the fire. Eventually, she had fallen asleep against his shoulder. She knew he had put her to bed and then left. In the morning she had found the white wolf he had made her.

“Things are never going to be exactly as we thought they would be or should be, but we have each other don’t we?” she finally asked voicing the question she had wanted to since he had shown up in her bedroom. “We aren’t alone, right?”

He pulled back. His green eyes boring into her soul. “We are not alone, not anymore.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. She can think what she wants. Live the life she wants. She doesn’t want to try to reconnect with you after you tried, fine. But I am not leaving you ever,” Hawke promised as she kissed him quickly. She watched as he looked at her in awe as she echoed his words about the wolf, “Custodiet te, et ego semper.”

“You remember…even after all this time?” he whispered in disbelief as he cupped his cheek.

She smiled. “Of course.”

He kissed her. She could tell he was still worried but found some reassurance in her words. She could only hope that she provided support for him just as he did for her. The way he held her made her think she was right. Running a ran through the hair at the nape of his neck, she murmured against his lips, “I want to be at your side, Fen. We may fall to pieces sometimes, but we are always there to help put each other back together.”

He pulled away to look at her. “I have never felt this way. Even with what I can remember, I don’t remember feeling like this.”

“What you remember?” she echoed. He still had not really spoken of what he had been able to recall.

He nodded. “It is still just flashes. Images. Sometimes a word, a name. An emotion…”

“Fen?”

He hesitated. “I remember what she looked like…My mother. Varania favors her. She was quiet, nice, caring. She…She did everything she could to make our lives better. I wanted to help…I wanted to repay her for what she tried to do…I think that’s why I agreed to the competition…But now…”

“Hold onto what you can remember of her, Fenris. Even if it’s just flashes, emotions. It’s more than you had. I know you can never get her back, but its memories that we are left with in the end. Don’t let the bad things overshadow the good,” Hawke said sincerely, knowing he would understand where she was coming from.

He caressed her cheek. “Cora, you are an amazing woman…”

She knew she was blushing. She had ever since he had returned her flirting years ago. “Fen…”

“I won’t let a dead magister, nor my estranged sister control my fate,” the elf declared firmly. “You do not control me either despite whatever she says. I am with you because I choose to be. I am not alone because I chose not to be. We are not alone because we chose not to be.”

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when he continued, “You helped make that possible. You helped me realize what freedom really meant. I don’t think I can ever say how much I truly appreciate you.”

“Could you show me?” she asked quietly.

“Cora! That’s not what I meant—”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean bed me now. I meant that we stay together because we have each other.”

Fenris’ expression became one of adoration as he murmured against her shoulder as he rested his forehead on her shoulder again. “I will take the rest of my life to show you how much I appreciate you if that is what it takes. To remind both of us we are not alone.”

Chapter Text

“Orana prepared more than enough for our other guests,” Hawke teased as she sat across from her sister in the dining room of the Amell estate.

Bethany Hawke grinned as she finished her dessert. Motioning to the Templars outside in the other room and the Knight-Captain present in the corner, she said, “It’s frowned upon for the Templars to share a meal with their charges here in Kirkwall, but I have heard it is not so in other Circles.”

“Really?” Cora asked as she set her glass down, casting her gaze towards the blond Templar in the corner trying to be as discreet as possible.

“Well, yes,” Bethany went on. “The Knight-Commander does not encourage comradery between our two groups. Those Templars out in the waiting room share that view. They aren’t nasty about it, but they don’t go out of their way to be overly friendly either…Ser Cullen, however, has other reasons for not eating…”

Cora caught the teasing tone of her sister’s voice as the Knight-Captain seemed to tense at her words. Years ago, Beth would never have dared tease a Templar let alone a Knight-Captain. Being in the Gallows, rising the to rank of Enchanter seemed to have been good for her in some ways. “And those would be?”

She heard him shift uncomfortably as the younger Hawke answered, “The Captain is back in Kirkwall, apparently on Templar Order business. The Knight-Commander has her hold up in the Officer’s wing. Rumor has it that her quarters when she is at the Gallows are next door to Ser Cullen’s room.”

“Mistress Bethany, forgive my interruption, but I believe the point of your dinner was to visit with your sister not to discuss my private life,” Cullen Rutherford commented politely from his corner.

“Private life, Rutherford?” Cora echoed with amusement. “I was unaware that you had a private life unless you count polishing your armor and weapons or reading those books you carry around.”

He made a noise of annoyance as he straightened his stance. Before he could respond, Bethany said, “He is planning on having dinner with the Captain. He does every time she comes back at least since after the Qunari incident.”

“Who is this Captain?” Cora asked with genuine interest as Bodahn entered the dining room to begin clearing away the dishes. She had known Cullen since Bethany had been taken to the Circle, actually before. She had made it a point to get to know the man a little bit who was essentially charged with overseeing her sister. The incident with the recruits years earlier had revealed a man who cared about those that served under him and whether he hated magic or not, he was at least more approachable than Meredith and willing to listen. Over the past few years though he had changed, not being as ridge in his views of mages and the Circles.

“No one you need be concerned with—” he began.

“Lorelei Kendrick—Rory—from Ferelden. She apparently has some sort of arrangement with the Silver Order and the Queen,” Bethany blurted out. “She works with the Circles to track down rogue mages that are an actual threat. She seems to be a fair woman and has an eye for a certain Knight-Captain.”

“Maker’s breath,” Hawke heard the Templar mutter as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You fancy a woman. So what? It’s not like Templars don’t have relationships or liaisons or dalliances,” Cora replied with a shrug as she took another sip of her wine.

“Lorelei is not a liaison or dalliance, Mistress Bethany. Serrah Hawke,” Cullen objected firmly. “She is special to me and I would not dishonor her with such frivolous intentions. I would appreciate it if you would treat her as such.”

“Knight-Captain, I had no idea you felt anything for anyone outside the purview of your duties to the Order,” Hawke noted in all seriousness.

“It is as much a surprise to me as it is to you, Serrah,” Cullen admitted in earnest, his expression showing how sincere he was. In a quieter voice he added, “It is a welcome surprise though.”

Hawke caught her sister’s smile as the younger woman noted, “They make a cute couple, especially when they think no one is looking.”

Cullen sighed as he leaned against the wall. Shaking his head, he opted to say no more, reverting back to silence as the sisters continued their visit.

The Hawke girls gossiped about everything under the sun for the next hour until the bells tolled from the foyer. Bethany glanced at Cullen then her sister. “Cora, it’s time to go. I wish I could stay longer but the Knight-Commander is becoming stricter.”

Rutherford stood up straight as the other Templars appeared outside the door. He made a motion for them to back off as he walked to the table. In a quiet voice he agreed, “I am afraid this may be the last time I can facilitate this for you. Meredith almost did not permit it this time. She is more convinced than ever that outside influences are a major cause of concern for the Order. I will try to continue this. I know how important these dinners are to both of you…”

Hawke glanced at her sister who wore a very solemn expression. “Thank you, Knight-Captain…But may I ask one question?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you even agree to this in the first place? I didn’t think when Fenris asked you would agree once let alone make it happen more than that single time. I appreciate everything you have done for my sister,” she said. “I suppose I just want to know why. You don’t get anything out of it except a headache and the inconvenience.”

He made a sound of amusement. “Yes. I suppose I do. However, Mistress Bethany has been nothing but an asset to the Circle since she arrived. She is level headed and understands the dangers of magic but does not cower because of it. She has been instrumental in ensuring many of the younger mages understand those risks. I consider her an ally within the Circle when tempers threaten to flare on both sides. Five years ago, I would not have been able to conceive of such a thing.”

“Well, if you are feeling grateful, you could stop calling me Mistress Bethany. Bethany will do just fine,” the younger Hawke proclaimed as she stood up.

“I will endeavor to keep that in mind Enchanter Bethany,” Cullen replied with the barest hint of a smirk.

Cora took in the interaction. Her sister really had come into her own, not cowering from Templars but actively teasing one and an officer to boot. So much had changed since the Blight. Not all of it good, but this. Her sister. That was for the better.

Beth let out her own groan of annoyance as she motioned to Hawke. “He’s actually doing this for you too.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she said, “Oh?”

“Yes, well,” Rutherford began a little awkwardly. “You have helped the Order over the years with and without my requesting it. You have ensured lives were not needlessly lost and I feel that I owe you for…when your sister was taken to the Circle.”

Hawke froze. Bethany had volunteered to go. “I am not sure I understand.”

Cullen looked to the mage sister who nodded as if encouraging him. He took a breath. “We had suspicions she was a mage for a time before you returned from the Deep Roads, yet we never acted. Meredith believed you would not return from your expedition and the problem would take care of itself. She saw you as an upstart and wanted to send warning. She…ordered me to take Bethany into custody the day you returned to Kirkwall knowing full well you had just returned…I objected but was overruled. I…As Rory keeps telling me, I cannot change my past, but I can change my future. I can do what I can to make sure you still see her…”

Hawke felt her anger rise at the admission. She was on the verge of lashing out at the Knight-Captain until she felt a hand on her forearm. She turned to find Bethany staring at her with a smile. “He’s right. We can’t change the past. But we can do better in the future. He is trying. We are trying. Things are bad but that doesn’t mean we have to be. I chose to go. Maybe the circumstances were engineered but I don’t regret going. I am better for it. You are better for it.”

“Bethany, I never thought of you as a burden or—”

“I know, but I did. I know now that is wasn’t true, but this is better,” the mage said leaning in the hug her sister. “I have found my own path and I am doing what I think I can to make things better.”

She pulled away. “Ser Cullen is helping in his own way. None of us are the same people we were during the Blight. What matters though is who we become now.”

Cora looked at her sister in awe. Since when had her baby sister become so wise? She felt her anger be washed away by pride. Without a second thought she blurted out, “Mother and Father would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

Bethany lips trembled as she attempted to maintain her composure. Hawke hugged her sister tightly as the mage murmured, “Thank you, Sister. For everything.”

“Knight-Captain,” a male voice called from the foyer.

Hawke heard Rutherford exhale sharply. He muttered, “They never know when to allow a few extra moments…”

She let go of Bethany. “I suppose you should be getting back. I don’t want to keep your Captain waiting.”

“Lorelei will not mind. She wanted to go to The Hanged Man anyhow…” he trailed as Hawke gave him a look.

“Wait. Rory? The Ferelden soldier who frequents the same tavern as I do--is your woman?” Hawke asked in shock. “She out drinks most of the people there winning all their coin in the process.”

Rutherford blushed. “Yes. I know.”

“And you take a book…” she noted.

“I am not one for drinking games…I need something to pass the time,” he murmured.

Bethany and Cora laughed as they headed to the foyer. The younger Hawke said, “That I would pay to see. Anyhow, it was good to see you, Sister. Please keep writing.”

“I will, and I will visit soon if Meredith still allows it,” she promised as the Templars formed up around the Enchanter.

Cullen bowed. “Good night, Serrah Hawke.”

Cora watched as they filed out of the foyer into the street. When the door shut, the only sounds left in the estate were those of Orana and Bodahn putting away dinner. A pair of familiar hands rested on her shoulders as she relaxed into the touch. His breath on her neck only served to release her pent-up anxiety while she felt grateful for the silent support. She closed her eyes allowing herself to bask in his strong presence for a few moments.

It was him who broke the quiet. “I never thought to see a mage and Templar interact as they do. Perhaps Bethany is correct. There are those who truly want to make things better.”

“You really think mages and Templars can work together?”

“In general, no. But Bethany has proven that there are those that can control their magic and do good with it. She still recognizes the dangers but does not turn away the help of a Templar,” Fenris explained as he massaged her shoulders in just the right way. “Cullen is not unreasonable…At least of late he has seen that there are extremes to both sides.”

Hawke turned to look at the elf. “Fen, you are the one who supports Templars over mages by default. It sounds as if that has changed.”

Fenris’ expression became passive as he thought of a response. “Things change. Bethany is correct about that. None of us are the same as we were five years ago or even a year ago. Perhaps I have grown to accept that not all mages are a bane to my existence and not all Templars are a shining example of their Order.”

Green eyes finally met hers as he gave her tender smile. “I am glad for what I have now. The trials we have gone through have allowed me to find you and remain at your side.”

She hugged him. “Next time you could come to dinner too. I don’t think the Knight-Captain would mind.”

Fenris huffed. “And have you and Bethany drag me into your teasing, I think not…It was amusing to watch from afar though.”

She grew quiet for a moment, resting her head against his shoulder. “I am glad Bethany has found her way and she is happy…I am happy mostly.”

“Mostly?” Fenris asked with concern. “Is there something that would make you happier?”

“Yes,” she replied as she looked up at him. “You living here…with me.”

“Cora…I have a place to stay.”

“Aveline, Varric, and Isabela can’t keep the seneschal from noticing your borrowed mansion forever,” she reasoned as her words turned into a plea. “Please. I want to know you are safe…”

“Cora,” he whispered as he kissed her. “Festis bei umo canvarum.”

She giggled. “So, is that a yes?”

“Yes,” he sighed as she felt her heart swell. He would live with her, in her family home. He was her family. He was the one that made sure she still had a family. Everything he has done to make sure Bethany was taken care of in the Gallows spoke to that. H would give of himself until there was nothing left. Then he would still give.

A part of her didn’t feel as if she deserved to be happy. She knew Kirkwall was a dangerous and chaotic city. Many felt the wrath of the city in their lives almost on a daily basis, but she would take happiness where she could get it. Bethany said what was important now was the people they became. Cora promised herself she was be a better person. Not just for those around her but for herself. She would not live in the sorrow of the past but live for the happiness of the moment. She would live for those who were no longer with them. She would honor the change their absence had caused. She would be better than yesterday.

Chapter Text

Champion Hawke~

As a courtesy for your past service, be aware that I have received complaints about your frequent companion, Guard-Captain Aveline. She is accused of coddling her men and weakening law enforcement in this crucial time. In the absence of a viscount, I am called to vacate her position and assume her authority, but I would rather not have that headache.

Please, speak with her about these claims. As Champion, your word can decide this matter, and save the career of a good woman.

Knight-Captain C. S. Rutherford

The letter had appeared via a messenger albeit an unusual one. The letter had not come by the usual courier the Templar Order used. Instead a woman dressed in black trimmed in purple had arrived. Her hood shielding much of her hair, but a few jet-black strands had escaped. The woman spoke with a Ferelden accent laced with Kirkwaller as she looked at Hawke with piercing green eyes.

“He didn’t want wind of this to get back to the Knight-Commander just yet. He truly doesn’t want this, Champion,” the woman had uttered as she handed over the letter.

As she turned to go, Hawke had called out, “Wait! You’re her. The captain Bethany talks about, aren’t you?”

The woman turned back with a smile. “Yes.”

“Why? Why help him or me for that matter? You’re Ferelden military. You don’t have to be here,” Cora noted.

The woman made a chuckling sound. “I suppose from a certain point of view you are right. But I have never been one to sit by and let others do what must be done. Whatever is happening here in Kirkwall will affect the rest of Thedas. If I can help contain that or mitigate the consequences, then I will. I have seen too much lost because of magic, and not just because of mages.”

Hawke had frowned not sure what the woman meant, only knowing that she had appeared on several occasions to help her group from afar and was never too far from the Knight-Captain. “Can I at least know your name? Bethany and Ser Cullen had said but—”

“Kendrick to most people unless you’re a friend. Then its Rory,” she replied as she once again headed for the door.

“He calls you Lorelei though,” Cora noted causing the other woman to pause.

“And he is the only one that will,” Kendrick threw over her shoulder. “Please heed his words. He truly is trying to help.”

With that the door had closed and thus began the work of clearing Aveline of unfounded and cowardly accusations. The next two days saw their band of misfits journeying to the docks on a night patrol with Donnic to verify how the guard patrols were really run. Then they reported to Cullen the truth of things. The only clue he could give as to the origins of the complaints was that they came from Lowtown anonymously. Guards woman Brennan revealed that Aveline’s predecessor Jeven was the one responsible for the rumors. Hiding out in Darktown, he had begun his campaign to turn the City Guard against Aveline.

They had fought Jeven and those that were stupid enough to follow him. None of them had been of the guard though. Most had been low ranking members of other gangs or simple lunatics looking for a quick way to make a name for themselves. None had been loyal to the former Guard Captain, some even running away instead of fighting the Champion of Kirkwall and its current Guard-Captain. Now the two women stood in Aveline’s office in the Keep composing the final part of their report to submit to Cullen.

Hawke signed her name as Aveline rose to her feet muttering to herself. “Jeven. Son of a bitch.”

“Aveline?” Hawke asked as she glanced up from her signature.

The Guard Captain turned back to her motioning with her hands. “You build a good thing, work your hardest, and the past just claws at you.”

She knew exactly what her friend was talking about. Things from when they first arrived in Kirkwall always seemed to find a way to haunt them. It was becoming annoying. Despite that, she said, “Jeven failed before he started. You know this.”

Aveline sighed. “I do, and he doomed himself. But this smears all of the guard. I wonder what I would do if my captain lost my respect.”

Before Cora could respond, Donnic entered the office. “Captain? We’re waiting for orders.”

Hawke heard her friend hesitate for just an instant. Jeven’s actions truly had shaken Aveline’s confidence. “Will you accept them?”

“May I speak freely?” the guard asked, always treating his wife as the ranking officer, never giving any one any reason to think he was favored over the others.

She nodded silently. Donnic stood up at his full height, looking his wife and superior officer straight in the eye. “There’s isn’t a man or woman here who wouldn’t follow you through the Void.”

He let those words sink in for just a moment and then nodded. “Captain.”

As he walked back out of the office, Hawke saw the smallest smile play upon Aveline’s lips as she watched her husband leave. It was then that she realized that Fenris did the same for her. Even when they weren’t alone, he found ways to bolster her up if her doubts came calling. He did so without ever touching her or saying anything overly romantic. Once of the reasons she cared for him so much was because he could do such a thing with just a word or a glance.

“I’ll take,” Aveline said with as her smile grew wider. She turned back to her friend. “I suppose Fenris has come to his senses and that’s why you are keeping him around?”

Feigning ignorance, Hawke said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

As she went back to folding the report, Aveline scoffed, “Bull, Hawke. I’ve known you too long and been through too much with you to not know when something happens in your life like this.”

Cora eyed the other woman but said nothing. The Captain pressed forward. “You finally get him out of that damnable mansion and into your estate. Ignoring the headache you just relieved me off, he’s good for you and you for him. I don’t claim to understand everything about you two but at least you leave Donnic and myself alone…”

“I’ll take this to the Gallows,” Hawke offered as she sealed the report.

Aveline nodded her thanks. “I appreciate that, Hawke, and everything you helped me with. Jeven and well, just everything.”

Cora smiled. “You’re welcome. What are friends for?”

“You mean other than driving each other to the brink of insanity or to provide some amusement when they like each other but won’t do anything about it?” Aveline joked.

“It’s a nice night for an evening is all I’m going to say about that,” Hawke replied wiggling her eyebrows.

Aveline groaned as she palmed her face. Cora walked to her friend, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Besides, if you really want to tease someone about a relationship, I understand Knight-Captain Cullen has a lady friend.”

“Rory? Yes, I know,” Aveline admitted much to Hawke’s surprise. “I knew her from the Ferelden army. We were in the same company in Ostagar…”

“Oh,” Cora said taking in the new information.

“It’s not as big a secret as they make it out to be. At least if you know them,” she added. “But you should get going. I have orders to give to the guard who still believes in me thanks in no small part to you.”

Hawke grinned. “Anytime Aveline.”

As she left the Keep she couldn’t help but feel as if the past really was catching up with them. One at a time, things from their first years in Kirkwall seemed determined to remind them of either what they had gained or what they had lost. A dark thought in the back of her mind she was determined to ignore warned her that change was coming and not for the better.

*******

“That’s definitely not true.”

“Of course, it is. I read it in one of Varric’s stories.”

“Cora,” Fenris chided as he sharpened his two-handed sword by the hearth in their now shared room. They had decided to stay in after spending two days hunting down the source of Aveline’s troubles.

She sat on the bed a book laid open in front of her crossed legs. “Kirkwall is called the City of Chains because the nobles of old thought it fashionable to wear them in the bedroom for…reasons.”

The elven warrior ignored her as he set his sword aside and began working on her weapons, twin short swords. She laughed. “You really are no fun sometimes. No wonder Isabela is always trying to get a rise out of you. It’s challenging.”

“Surely you are not just realizing this,” he chided as he unsheathed one of her blades. “She is merely jealous that you are the only one that makes anything rise.”

She looked at him wide eyed. His sense of humor was there. It just did not always come off as humorous unless you knew him. “My. My. You sound almost proud of that fact.”

“Should I not?” he asked with a smug expression. “And no, we are not reading any of Varric’s smut tonight.

Hawke frowned. “I am not reading smutty literature.”

“Good, because I would hope you remember what the punishment is for that,” he said without looking up.

“Well, I can’t help the fact people at The Hanged Man talk about what Varric writes,” she fake pouted, crossing her arms. “It sounds more interesting than the fact there is a huge chain net that blocks the channel leading into Kirkwall. And it is certainly not as depressing as knowing that this used to be a huge slave city.”

She heard him set her weapon aside and watched out of the corner of her eye as he rose to his feet. Walking to the side of the bed, he placed a bent knee on the mattress. Involuntarily she glanced up to see his green eyes reflecting mischief. “You have not learned that pouting or pretending to does not end well for you.”

“I’m not…” she trailed off as he leaned down as if to kiss her. She automatically tipped her head up more to better reach him.

She felt his lips graze hers but then suddenly jerked away. Delft hands had found their way to her ribs undetected and tickling her. She squealed in a most un-Champion-like manner as she attempting to escape. That only caused Fenris to lean further down straddling her on the mattress as his nimble fingers roamed her body looking for more places to tickle. She laughed uncontrollably as he seemingly found every ticklish spot just as he had threatened to do.

She heard a rumble of laughter emanate from the usually quiet elf as he smirked down in triumph. His hands had dropped to the area of her lower back just below her waistband. She writhed under him as he discovered one of her more sensitive spots. She gasped between giggles, “Fen! Please! Stop!”

“Will you behave, my lady Hawke? No more pretending to pout?” he asked in a husky voice.

She nodded. It was the only thing she could manage as she continued to laugh. His touch became softer as he stroked her back. “I expect this to be a less then. There are consequences for pretending to pout or for poor humor even the Champion of Kirkwall must face.”

He laid down on the bed behind her, pulling her to his chest. She let him wrap his arms around her as he kissed the nape of her neck. She sighed as she caught her breath. Closing her eyes, she simply listened to his breathing. Five years ago, he never would have tickled her let alone talk of punishing her for pouting. Five years ago, he never would have agreed to live with her. Three years ago, they had tried to be together but unresolved issues had kept them apart. Times had changed most of that.

“What are you thinking, amatus?” he whispered as he kissed her shoulder. H always knew when she was pensive. He had been able to tell from the start. Knowing that it either meant that she needed room to think or needed someone to talk to. Somehow that someone had been him a great deal of the time.

“I—What Aveline has gone through in the pasted two days just reaffirmed something I had only recently become aware of,” she began slowly. “Our pasts, what we have done since coming to Kirkwall—it all seems to be coming back to haunt us. Each of us has either lost or gained something because of our past actions in this city. Both for some of us… I just wonder what that means for the future.”

“We do not know what the next day will bring for us,” Fenris said as he sought out her hand. “We only have hope that it will be better than the day before…When we first met I could not have conceived of the life I have now…with you.”

“Fen,” she said intertwining her fingers with his.

He made a contented sound. “I would endure it all over again if it meant I could keep you in my life forever.”

She squeezed his hand. “So would I.”

Chapter Text

“He looks at you like you are everything,” Merrill noted as they walked through the Lowtown market.

The young elf had wanted to buy somethings to make her house a little more cheerful. Hawke had noticed she had been feeling a little more alone since the latest incident with her clan. The demon had finally been dealt with but at a terrible price. Audacity had struck a deal with Marethari to keep Merrill safe. Becoming an abomination, the Keeper had given her former pupil no choice but to kill her. The older woman had done it to spare Merrill the cost of her actions concerning the Eluvian. Now her clan had banished her and were without a Keeper.

Upon their return to Kirkwall the Dalish woman had thrown a sheet over the eluvian and asked Hawke to return the Arulin’Holm tool back to her former clan. Now she seemed to be focused more on her adopted family made up of misfits. Varric and Isabela had been frequent visitors to her home, encouraging her to spend more time at The Hanged Man as well. Fenris had even let up on her more questionable choices for the time being.

“Who?” Hawke asked innocently as she pulled out a bobble that wasn’t to gaudy.

Merrill took it from her as she gave her friend a small smile. “You know who. You both are lucky to have one another. Everything you have been through and you still found your way to one another.”

Hawke shook her head. “I…He’s always been there. Even when he was angry with me or we disagreed…Even when I thought he might leave, he didn’t.”

“I think I’ll buy this,” Merrill declared as she paid the merchant. “Can we look at some curtains?...For the windows I don’t have?”

Hawke chuckled at the elf who only smiled back. “Of course…Maybe we could make some false windows? Buy a painting of something you like and make it look like a window?”

“I like that idea,” Merrill replied as they moved to the next stall. Out of nowhere she asked, “Are you and Fenris going to get married?”

“What?” Hawke exclaimed drawing the attention of a few other shoppers. Lowering her voice, she said, “We only just started—I mean he’s only been living with me for a few months…”

“I didn’t mean now,” Merrill replied as she looked at some green material. “But both human and elven customs involve that…Maybe someday?”

“Merrill,” Hawke chided as she shook her head.

“Only something to think about,” the elf said as she moved to a deep red bolt of fabric.

Hawke watched as she chattered on about it excitedly. Merrill had lost so much just as she had but she still kept going. She knew it was due in large part to their makeshift family. Despite all their mistakes, Hawke was glad they were still there for one another and prayed they continued to be.

*********

“You are not asleep,” Hawke noted as she rolled over to face him.

Fenris’ voice came back with slight amusement. “Neither are you.”

“Only because you aren’t.”

“I doubt that, Hawke.”

She sat up behind him. “Do they hurt?”

Fenris glanced back at her. “No. My markings are not what keeps me awake.”

She cocked her head. “Are you worried?”

He shook his head, his snow-white hair unruly from sleep. “I…Do you remember what I told you after we were together the first time?”

She hesitated. He was referring to the night they had spent together over three years prior. He had said it had been better than anything he could have imagined but that wasn’t what he was referring to now. He was talking about his memories from his life as Leto.

“Yes…” she finally said slowly. “You remembered something?”

His green eyes sought hers out, almost as if to make her understand what he was about to say. “I have remembered more since then but only after we…we were together.”

“Together? You mean after we starting being…intimate?”

He shook his head again. “Yes…No…It is more than having sex with you, Hawke,” he growled out fisting his hands. “It is how you make me feel when I am with you. Sex or not. I…The feelings I have for you—they feel familiar…Like something I have forgotten and only remember in a dream. But what I feel for you is no dream. It is more real than anything…You are my everything.”

“Fenris,” she whispered leaning forward to cup his cheek.

He leaned into her hand. “I do not wish you to not know that. I have forgotten so much because of these markings. I do not want you to be among those memories.”

“I won’t be,” she reassured him as she kissed his forehead. “I’m hard to get rid of.”

He smiled the smile he only ever gifted her with as he pulled them down to the mattress. “You should sleep. Who knows what the Champion of Kirkwall will have to do tomorrow.”

“So should you.”

“I cannot just yet,” he admitted.

“Tell me then.”

“What?”

“Tell some of what you remember.”

There was a long moment of silence. She knew sharing was not one of Fenris’ strong points at least with others. Over the years he had been able to tell her things no one else knew but it had taken time and trust. She waited patiently as she had learned to do. He would speak when he was ready.

He began stroking her hair long before he said a word. “I remembered more of my mother…Her name was Lucia. At least that is what others called her. She would tell us stories at night after all her work was done. I do not remember a specific one, but I remember feeling loved and cared for. Despite our status, she did what any mother would. She took care of us no matter what our master had put her through that day…I get that feeling when I think of you.”

“Me?” she said in surprise as his hand that always wore the red cloth around the wrist caressed her cheek.

She felt him chuckle. “Yes. You take care of your family no matter what you have been through. It doesn’t matter. You are a strong woman and one I am fortunate enough to have in my life despite all the mistakes I have made.”

“We have both made mistakes, Fen. Don’t think I haven’t,” she corrected as she reached for his hand.

“Yes, well your choice to read Varric’s Swords and Shields proves that,” he retorted as he held her hand.

She rolled her eyes. He would never let her live that down. Instead of responding to his retort, she said softly, “Tell me more about what you remember.”

“As my lady Hawke wishes,” he murmured against her forehead.

Hawke smiled as he began describing the flashes of memories he had experienced so far. Listening to the gentle cadence of his voice and feeling safe and cared for against him, Hawke let her mind wonder. Merrill’s words of marriage found her. It was then that she realized she didn’t have to be married to be happy. What she and Fenris had didn’t hinge on that. They would be together no matter what and that is what kept her going. He was everything to her. And that was worth fighting for.

Chapter Text

“It’s charming,” Fenris noted in a dead pan voice as they stood outside the mansion that had once belonged to Varric’s brother.

“It’s probably haunted and we’re all going to die,” Isabela replied as she fidgeted nearby.

“Then why did you come?” Hawke asked as she glanced at Varric who was staring at the house he had been trying to rid himself of. Of course, they had come at night. Why would they attend to this task during the day? Because the Champion of Kirkwall had been swamped with requests from nobles all day and had to put her friend’s request off. That’s why.

“I thought maybe there’d be some shiny things the new owners wouldn’t miss,” the pirate muttered as she fingered a dagger. “You know, things rich people don’t really need and won’t really miss.”

“You do that with whoever you bed,” Fenris quipped, clearly not affected by the rumors of a haunting.

“I’d rather be there now,” she snapped back quickly. “Wouldn’t you rather be twisting in the sheets with Hawke instead of here? Or maybe it’s not sheets? A desk? A bench? The floor? The bath tub? Or maybe you’re more adventurous? A public space?”

Fenris growled. “Speak of your escapades all you like. You know nothing of our relationship. Leave it be.”

“Ooooh, protective. And so incredibly sexy at the same time,” Isabela cooed.

Hawke simply rolled her eyes knowing the pirate wouldn’t do anything to endanger her relationship with Fenris. Finally, Varric spoke up. “Save it, Rivaini. I’ll pay off your tab at The Hanged Man if you just let us get this over with. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Oh, fine. Spoil sport,” Isabela grumbled as fell in step behind the dwarf. “I’ll keep you to the bit about my tab though.”

Varric waved her off as they headed towards the entrance. Hawke began to follow as a hand touched her forearm. She turned to see Fenris looking back at her, his green eyes focused only on her. “This place feels wrong. Whatever the dwarf has told you or knows of this place, something terrible has happened here. Be wary.”

Hawke nodded, having learned not to take Fenris’ gut feelings lightly. “This was Bartrand’s mansion. We can only guess what else he may have brought back from the Deep Roads besides the idol.”

Fenris inclined his head in agreement as they resumed their walk towards the entrance. She could only hope that ghost’s of their past didn’t greet them inside.

```````

“Look at this. My brother’s junk was left here,” Varric pointed at all the abandoned items that took up a fair amount of space in one of the upper bedrooms. The charismatic dwarf turned to his friends as he made grand motions with his arms. “You wouldn’t know it but Bartrand was a sentimentalist. This came from our estate in Orzammar. When I was seven I knocked over one of Mother’s plates and broke it. My brother yelled at me for an hour.”

Hawke watched as he chuckled and did an impression of his brother. “This was made by the artisans of House Saldras! The clay was from the Aedron atuna river, which never sees the sun.”

Fenris stood at the doorway, keeping a watchful eye on their exit as Isabela simply groaned. Hawke had agreed to help solve the mystery of the reports of hauntings in the mansion that once belonged to the elder Tethras. She wasn’t convinced it was haunted just yet. Having mages for a father and a sister made her lean towards magic, but her time in Kirkwall had taught her to keep her mind open to almost anything. Whatever the case, something Bartrand had gotten into mostly was causing the disturbances the new owner was complaining about.

Admittedly, Hawke did not know Bartrand very well. Even with having spent weeks in the Deep Roads with the dwarf, all she knew for sure was that he was stingy with money, prideful, placed great importance on his origins in Orzammar, was a major player in the Merchants Guild, and looked down on his younger brother. Oh, and betrayed their whole expedition to the Deep Roads and left them to die. What she didn’t understand was why a simple plate would cause such as problem. “He was that upset over a dish?”

“I don’t think it was a dish to Bartrand,” Varric replied sadly as he shook his head. “That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him. He kept everything our family brought from Orzammar. I don’t think he ever made peace with the fact our family could never go back. Being a surfacer wasn’t good enough for him…I wasn’t good enough for him because I was born up here.”

“His loss. Our gain,” Hawke replied with a smirk. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “You fit right in with our lot.”

Varric glanced at Isabela as another door slammed shut from somewhere in the estate. The pirate yelped, “I’m starting to really hate this place, Hawke.”

“Something in this house is restless,” Fenris noted, still keeping his weapon sheathed.

“Yeah. Okay, Hawke,” the author conceded. “I suppose I’ll take our little dysfunctional group over my brother anytime…Can we just fix this haunted mansion thing somehow and leave? I’m not really feeling any brotherly love right now…”

Hawke nodded. “I can sympathize with that…This isn’t my idea of how I’d want to reminisce about family either.”

````````

A startled scream echoed from the room just in front of them. The door was already opened and revealed a terrified dark-haired woman dressed in servant’s attire. As the group rushed in, the greeting the woman gave them did not help ease their nerves. “Are you real? You’ve got to get out of here before it comes back!”

“Maker’s balls! I am way too sober for this,” Isabela muttered as she looked glanced around the room as if she expected more unexpected things to happen any minute.

“We all are,” Fenris agreed in a dark tone. “Magic is at work here. Powerful magic, or many thousands of deaths must have happened here.”

“Not helping,” the pirate noted in a sing-song voice as Hawke took in the sight before them.

The woman was scared beyond anything she had ever seen before expect for the Blight. It made her think that perhaps magic was at work. But what kind? Maybe she should have asked Merrill or Anders to come along. Well, maybe not Anders if it were anything to do with spirits or demons. Justice did not react well to such dealings any more…

“Where’s the idol?” Varric suddenly demanded. She looked at her friend in surprise. The easy-going dwarf sounded off. He never made demands, especially of frightened people. Usually he was the first to offer them a hand of support or a joke to set them at ease. Apparently that had changed upon entering the house.

The woman looked at him in confusion, clearly not expecting that question considering everything else that had been occurring. “What idol?”

Varric took a step towards her, Bianca drawn but not pointed at her. There was no mistaking his tone though. “Don’t waste my time with your lies! Tell me where it is!”

Cora put a hand on his shoulder, knowing for certain now that something wasn’t right with her longtime friend. “Take it easy Varric. She’s telling us what she can.”

“She’s hiding something, Hawke,” the author stated as if she should have realized. Pointing at the scared woman, he ordered loudly, “Don’t lie to me! I know it’s here. You must have found it.”

“I swear!” The servant pleaded as she threw up her hands in front of her, scared Varric would actually do something to her. “I don’t know anything about an idol! Please!”

Before Hawke could say anything to either one, the floor shook beneath their feet. The walls rattled around them. Whatever was in the mansion was making its presence known again. The woman darted out of the room towards the stairs descending to the lower level as she shrieked, “Maker, no! It’s starting again!”

Hawke glanced at Fenris who wore a grim expression but remained quiet. Isabela on the other hand let the house know exactly what she thought of its antics. “We get it already. House haunted. You can stop now.”

Rolling her eyes, she agreed with Fenris. Something akin to magic was at work, but it still felt like there was more to it. “We need to keep searching the house for—”

A scream from the lower level pierced the air. Four sets of eyes looked at each other and then ran out of the bedroom. On the landing outside, they looked down into the great room below. The body of the servant woman laid motionless in the middle of the floor as a ghostly golem coalesced before their eyes.

“Uh oh…” Varric muttered, rendered speechless for once.

Hawke let out a groan. “Awww, hell. Why can’t anything be boring?”

As they all readied their weapons to engage in a fight none of them had imagined to face when they had entered the house, she could only think back on all the other countless times they had battled the unknown and survived. Hopefully this would prove no different…

````````

“This…This is a piece of the idol,” Varric remarked as they made sure nothing else was going to appear. A phantasmal stone golem and several waves of wraiths had not made their task any easier. If anything, it had made them more paranoid that something else was going to happen. But his discovery was still unexpected.

Hawke watched as her friend turned to look at her, his expression the angriest she had ever seen except for the time Bartrand had betrayed them in the Deep Roads. “I should have known Bartrand would lie to me. Of course, he’d keep a piece of the statue for himself!”

“So, we can get out of here now, right?” Isabela asked urgently. “I really think everyone would feel better back at The Hanged Man. I’ll even buy a round.”

“You never buy a round. Usually you are the one recieving free drinks off of the regulars,” Fenris noted as he sheathed his sword. His action made Hawke feel a little better. If he felt no threat that was good enough for her. But Varric? Something still wasn’t right.

“Think of what we could do with this,” the dwarf muttered as he admired the sliver of red stone.

“I don’t know about you, Varric, but I don’t want to end up like Bartrand,” Cora replied, continuing to watch him carefully. Something was definitely not right.

Varric insisted as if he were somehow immune to the effects of the idol. “I’m not my brother, Hawke! The idol drove him crazy, but this is just one tiny piece! I need this thing! Six years of my life have gone into this! My only hope of finding out what happened to my brother is with this shard!”

Hawke glanced at her other friends. Isabela seemed disinterested as expected. Fenris simply stared back, waiting for her to make the call. As always, she was the leader by default, and he would follow. She must have made a face because he finally offered, “There is inherent danger in this idol, even a sliver of it. But what became of the rest? I am not one to needlessly broach danger as you have described comes from this but if we encounter it again? If handled correctly it may provide a way to counter act the effects…Of course it could also drive all of us insane as it did the dwarf’s brother.”

The last thought was added with a smug grin. Hawke took a breath as she rolled her eyes, muttering, “When all this is over, I want my sanity back.”

Varric looked on with almost a hopeful expression as she turned back to him. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she finally agreed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this: If it means that much to you, keep the shard of craziness…Just be careful with it.”

“I knew you’d understand, Hawke,” Varric replied as he pocketed the shard. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve seen enough of this damnable house to last three lifetimes.”

At least the last part sounded more like the Varric she were used to. As they headed for the front door, she felt Fenris shadow her. He had insisted on coming with despite his skepticism of a haunting. Even though it turned out to be the idol from the Deep Roads or at least a tiny bit of it, the feeling of the past catching up with them filled her. This time she wasn’t a refugee fresh off the boat. She was the Champion of Kirkwall. This time she knew better than to think things were coincidental. Everything happened for a reason. She just needed to figure out the reason for this.

******

“You’re doing that nervous twitchy thing again, Hawke,” Varric commented from his seat at the table in his quarters at The Hanged Man.

Hawke paused in her pacing as she silently regarded the relaxed dwarf. It had been two days since the events at Bartrand’s estate, but the time and distance did nothing to ease her worries for her friend.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful with the shard. You, of all people, know I’m trustworthy,” the author went on in her silence.

She shook her head, still not at ease. “Back in Bartrand’s house you seemed…not quite yourself.”

Varric chuckled. “I think getting out of that house cleared my head. I feel fine now. Besides who wouldn’t go a little crazy in Bartrand’s house?”

She made a noise of annoyance as she crossed her arms. “This isn’t something to joke about, Varric. That damned idol drove your brother insane! That one piece made you threaten a woman! How—”

“I’m fine,” the author said evenly as he met her concerned gaze.

She tilted her head, waiting for more. He spread his hands in front of him. “It is not on my person. In fact, I have it at a secure location in a special box used to contain normal lyrium. It seems to be doing the trick so far…I’m hitting up my contacts for some people who might be able to figure out what it is exactly and how to handle it…”

“I hope it’s worth it. You already lost your brother to it,” she said as she dropped her arms. “I’d hate to lose you to it as well.”

“You won’t, Hawke. You know that,” Varric replied smugly. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

********

Hawke sat on the edge of the bed, holding the white wolf Fenris had carved for her. As she absentmindedly stroked it, her thoughts went back to the time after the Deep Roads. After they had escaped, she had come back to Gamlen’s house almost at the exact same time the Templars had come to collect Bethany. Her mother had been an emotional mess while her little sister had been the picture of calm. Knight-Captain Cullen had led the templars effort to recover her. She had only found out recently that he had protested the order from Meredith. But it had confirmed her suspicion that Meredith had considered her a potential threat from almost he beginning.

Now Bethany was a Senior Enchanter in the Gallows. She had garnered some favor with the Knight-Captain. Hawke would never have guessed that all those years ago. Bethany had insisted she had gone on her own recognizance. Leandra had blamed Hawke for the longest time just as she had Carver’s death. Hawke had believed her. In some ways, she still did even with the knowledge her mother didn’t really mean it. It had been grief and loss that had colored her emotions. Now she was gone too.

Her father. Her brother. Her mother. All gone. Her sister in a way too. All the family she had been brought up to protect--gone. She sat alone in the family estate lost by a slighted uncle that was to have been bequeathed to her mother from grandparents she never met. The only reason they had gone to Kirkwall was because their mother insisted they had family there. Now there was none to speak of.

Ghosts. That was what she was left with. Just as Varric battled the ghosts of his family’s legacy so did she. His father, mother, and brother all making choices that effected his life well after they were long gone. How did he do it? Maintain a happy persona without cracking? Keeping his friends entertained and even out of trouble while he dealt with the problems left behind by those he called family?

She didn’t want to live with ghosts. She didn’t want to live with the ramifications of their decisions when they were not able to take breath any longer. She had ghosts, but she didn’t have to be haunted by them.

She felt eyes on her from the doorway. Glancing up, she saw Fenris leaning against the door frame with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know I can always tell when you are attempting to decide something important, correct?”

Hawke nodded. “I suppose I do. What gives me away?”

“You grow very quiet and seek solitude. That is how I knew in the beginning. You retreat from others until you have reached your decision,” he explained as he walked over to her. “It is only after I came to live here that I realized you seek solace from the wolf during that time.”

She glanced down at what he had gestured at. She made a face. “You wouldn’t take too kindly to being petted repeatedly.”

He made a thoughtful sound. “I have come to not mind your touch in certain ways as much. Perhaps we could find out sometime…”

Hawke looked at him skeptically. “I don’t think so.”

Fenris knelt down in front of her and took one of her hands, the other still holding the wolf. “Tell me then what you are deciding.”

“Fen,” she said, not sure she knew exactly what she had decided.

“Cora,” he murmured as he began kissing the palm of her hand up to her wrist. “You have made a decision. Your expression says so.”

“I just…The thing with Varric’s brother…It made me think of things—people. Their decisions that we have to live with,” Hawke began as she watched him. “I just…They are gone but we still have to live with the consequences of their actions…I don’t want to be haunted by that—by them.”

“We choose how we react to the passing of those we care for or their departure of our lives. Or so I have noticed,” he replied kissing her forearm. Looking up at he with sincere green eyes, he admitted, “I once that I would have to face such a thing…I feared I had lost you…”

Hawke was silent as she realized he was talking about their first night together from years before. She set the wolf back on the night stand where it had stood watch since that night. Cupping his face, she shook her head. “I thought I had lost you…Maybe we were both too stubborn to give up.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted with a hint of a grin. Leaning into her touch, he added, “I do not wish to live my life through the ghost of our past. I want to live it with you.”

“As do I,” she agreed leaning down to kiss him.

Fenris pulled her into his lap on the floor as they began reminiscing about the time before they were together, when they wondered if the other were interested in them. It was easy to recognize their attraction to one another from the beginning, but it was the friendship they had forged that truly made being together possibly. Coupling that with the reality their pasts had shaped, they could live without hiding. Neither would have to live their lives through those ghosts if they remained focused on what made them strong together.

Chapter Text

“You would allow him to walk away and continue to sell people into slavery? What happened to the reason you were shipwrecked in the first place? What you told Anders of all people should be free?” Fenris snapped his lyrium markings glowing after the pirate had agreed to hand over the incriminating paperwork in exchange for his ship.

Castillon chuckled as he spread his hands as they stood in the dim dock of Darktown.. “It is a business deal as she has said, no? My ship for the papers? I will simply replace the ship and conduct my business venture elsewhere.”

“I knew you had a questionable moral compass but this? Innocents pay the price for your freedom? You might as well have left after the Qunari attacked,” the elf said accusatorially. “You could end it here and now. End him.”

“You can’t just kill a man for his ship. That’s crude and amateurish. If I kill him, who will spread the word about how I bested him?” Isabela asked nonchalantly looking to Hawke. “I am trying to solve this peacefully. I thought you would be behind such an action for once.”

“Coming from her, that’s priceless,” Castillon retorted.

Fenris watched as Hawke looked from the Rivaini woman to her pursuer. He knew her feelings on slavery. He also knew how she tried to avoid violence if possible and of her loyalty to her friends and family. He hoped he had known her well enough that he knew what she was about to say.

“Bela, you have to realize this isn’t the way,” Hawke said evenly. “Business deal or not. He deals in slavery. He’s hunted you for years. Do you really think there is an honorable bone in his body? You know of his operations. You are still a threat. He’ll only come after you later when you aren’t expecting him.”

The elven warrior remained silent as he watched the effect Hawke’s words were having on the pirate. Finally, the rogue relented. “I hate it when you are right.”

Hawke gave her the barest hint of a smile as Isabela turned back to Castillon. “Looks like no deal after all.”

The ensuing fight was typical of the ones they so frequently experienced from the very beginning of their arrival in Kirkwall. A person of questionable morals or logic raving that they needed to accomplish some goal in order to make their life better or more meaningful or to simply earn more coin. Random underlings would fight at the maniac’s side for enough coin. In the end the whole lot of them would be defeated or some would run away. The leader would either die or be taken into custody for Aveline’s guards or the Templars to deal with. This time ended no different.

Castillon laid dead amongst the rest of his men. None of them had survived. None would be able to perpetuate the slave trade Castillon had hoped to do. Fenris was more than happy with that. If Isabela had decided to do the right thing because of Hawke, good for her. Maybe eventually the pirate would admit that she actually had a moral code even if it just needed a nudge every once in a while. Fenris could admit that he had needed a similar nudge in the past and probably would in the future.

Fenris bit his tongue as Isabela groaned after the battle. “Ugh! Now what am I supposed to do with these worthless documents?”

Fenris made the rounds ensuring all of their attackers were indeed dead, as he heard the Rivaini woman go on, ”After everything we’ve been through together, how could you do that to me?”

Ignoring the ungratefulness in her voice, Fenris watched from the sidelines as Hawke took a step towards her. “Think about it, Bela. You know he didn’t deserve to walk. Fight it all you like but you do know right from wrong even when attempting to save your own skin.”

The pirate sighed as she looked down at the paperwork in her hand. “No, he didn’t. He was a sorry excuse for a human, pretty to look at but not much else going for him.”

“See?” Hawke said. “It all turned out alright in the end. He’s gone. No slaver racket. You get a new ship. And you can deliver those papers to Aveline personally and gloat about how you were doing her job for her.”

For just a moment Isabela grinned and then groaned as she walked away. “I really hate it when you are right.”

Fenris finished with his self-assigned task as the pirate walked off from the rest of the group. He made his way to Hawke who just smiled and shook her head. He had been right about her reaction to Isabela’s initial decision. The pirate would never openly admit it, but she considered their little group family and for all her talk she would never truly turn against them. At least that was the feeling Fenris got when he looked at her. She had changed since the Qunari incident three years prior. Hopefully one day she would know more, or at least be able to admit it.

It had taken Fenris years running around with Hawke to learn that he could admit things aloud, at least to Hawke. Sometimes to others but mostly Hawke.

His attention was turned back to Isabela when he heard her mutter, “Maybe kitten needs some attention.”

Raising his eyebrow, Fenris murmured, “Kitten? She and Merrill are…together?”

Hawke chuckled. “Yes. Didn’t you know that?”

“Yes…well, I suspected they engaged in…extracurricular activities…but—” he cut himself off feeling heat in his cheeks. Sex was not a foreign concept to him. He had been exposed to it as a slave. Danarius had particular tastes but that was the past. Now he was with Hawke. He had never felt anything like he did with Hawke ever…

“They were sort of like that before, but things changed,“ Hawke replied as they left the dock. “Isabela always felt responsible for Merrill. Probably because she comes off so naïve. Either way, she seems to genuinely care for her and vice versa. Who am I to interfere when they seem sincere and happiness seems so hard to find sometimes?”

Fenris nodded as he followed her from the docks. He could only think of all the things that had led to his current state. People he had always thought he would not associate with had become his makeshift family. They were a dysfunctional family, but they cared for one another. They were loyal not because they were commanded to but because they wanted to be. It was something he was still acclimating to but something he no longer took for granted.

*********

Fenris stood at the sink washing the dishes from dinner. Orana has been given the night off and he did not mind filling in. Bodahn and Sandal had cleared the table and put away everything else. He was left in the kitchen alone with his thoughts. In previous years he had had sought solitude to reign in his temper or absorb all the changes his life in Kirkwall had entailed. Now he found solace in doing simple domestic chores. Living with Hawke had changed so much for him. He no longer came home to an empty house.

Even before he had accepted her offer to move in, he knew he could go to estate at any time and not be turned away. But during that time, he still had a place to go back to. An empty borrowed mansion that now meant nothing. It was part of his past and he no longer had use of it. Discarding it like a weapon that no longer suited him, he moved on to what he had wanted desperately over three years ago and only now was able to have it. He was still not completely over his past, but he was not broken.

He had people he could count on; people who counted on him. It was like having a family. Something he was only now remembering from his previous life. He might never remember all of it but he didn’t have to. After so many years trying to reclaim what had been lost he realized after slaying Danarius and his sister’s reaction to him he had nearly lost what he had now. He didn’t want that. He wanted to be happy and despite Varric’s nickname for him he was indeed happy.

His thoughts were interrupted by humming from the outer hallway. It was Hawke humming some Ferelden tune he didn’t know. It sounded as if she were on her way up to the library. She had mentioned catching up in her correspondence and finding a new book for them to read later. She was happy. Happier than he had seen her in recent memory. He knew he played a large part in that but so did their friends.

He continued washing the dishes as his thoughts wandered back to the events with Isabela earlier in the day. As with the pirate, Hawke had always been able to talk everyone of her friends into a more rational action or line of thought if needed. She never simply gave up on them. She never would.

Hawke had mentioned several times in recent months she felt like things were changing. He couldn’t say she was wrong. What he did know was that for the first time in his memory, he had something worth protecting. He had people he could count on to help with that. He had friends. They had friends. And with all their friends with them everything was going to be fine.

Chapter Text

“You can’t really get upset because someone sleeps with Isabela…It’s just understood. She’s like a side dish. She comes with the meal.”

And that declaration by Anders had set the tone for the night at The Hanged Man. The whole group had managed to assemble in Varric’s private quarters, sharing a meal, drinks, and embarrassing stories. It was such a throwback to their first few years in Kirkwall, before they had learned how dark the city could be, how it had slowly changed them, pulling them unwittingly into its politics and dramatic tensions.

“Only if it’s a good meal,” Isabela uttered huskily as she turned to her left. “But Kitten doesn’t have to worry. It’s always good and she’s the dessert.”

“Isabela,” Merrill whined as she turned beet red, trying to hide behind her tankard of ale.

“It’s true, Kitten,” the pirate purred as she surveyed the table. “But enough about us. There’s plenty of other worthy gossip just ripe for the picking all around us.”

As if on cue, Varric eyed a certain Starkhaven Chantry Brother. “So, I’ve know you for a lot of years now. I give up. You beat me. What is it? You like boys? Sheep? You slept with your sister?”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian asked, clearly clueless as he set his ale down.

“What are you hiding? Nobody’s this bloody clean,” the dwarf clarified, clearly annoyed he hadn’t figured out the prince’s secret. “After you leave the chantry, you get drunk at The Hanged Man and walk around in women’s clothes?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Unfortunately,” the pirate of the group stated with palpable disappointment. Merrill poked her in the arm which only earned her a wicked grin as she murmured, “I can still look.”

The Prince ignored the women as he insisted. “I’ve been honest with you and Hawke.”

“Liar,” Varric taunted attempting to draw out a more emotional response as he motioned for another round of drinks.

Sebastian simply smiled before taking another drink. “Lying is a sin.”

“Sebastian was the youngest of three boys anyway, Varric,” Hawke spoke up from the other end of the table. “And his reputation from his younger days definitely favors women. Lots and lots of women.”

The Starkhaven noble made a sound of annoyance but said nothing. His piercing blue eyes simply staring Hawke down. Varric asked, “But what about the sheep?”

“What about Bianca?” Hawke countered as she leaned against the table. She still held the belief the crossbow was named after a special girl.

The merchant held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone for now, but I still say there’s something there.”

“There would be something there if everyone didn’t already know about his wild youth,” Hawke noted as Merrill glanced at Anders.

Everyone had been a little surprised to see the apostate come to the get together. In the recent months, he had increasingly found reasons to not come to anything like their little party. It was almost as if all his energies were being focused on the mage underground and his manifesto. On the more optimistic side, Hawke hoped he was working on the potion to separate himself from Justice. They had finally acquired all the necessary ingredients just a few days prior.

“Have I ever mentioned that I like your coat?” the Dalish elf noted out of the blue. She was like that and likely always would be. It was one of the endearing qualities she had that made Hawke think of her as a younger sister. It was also a quirk that belayed any thought that she was a Blood Mage or a former First who had been exiled from her clan for consorting with demons and indirectly causing their Keeper’s death.

“You do?” Anders asked in surprise. Normally the two did not get along at all. There diametrically different views on magic and demons and spirits usually kept them at odds.

“It’s very lively!” she exclaimed with a mischievous grin. “Like a crow in the middle of anting.”

“That…That’s great,” Ander replied his whole being deflating at the comparison. “Thanks Merrill.”

“I wouldn’t have called it lively,” Isabela added, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease the former Grey Warden. “Bedraggle, maybe. Or just…fluffy.”

Anders mumbled as he drained the rest of his ale, “You’re not helping.”

As another rounds of ales arrived, Varric chuckled, “I tried to warn you blondie.”

*********

An hour or more later, along with a decent helping of food saw the group still laughing and carrying on like there was not a care in the world. Everyone had had at least two ales; Merrill had already become tipsy after of one. Sebastian was keeping up with Isabela and Fenris without much effort. His rambunctious youth had apparently paid off in some unexpected ways. Anders showed no signs of intoxication at all, be it from his connection to Justice or because he hadn’t consumed as much; Hawke wasn’t sure. Aveline and Varric nursed their drinks; Aveline because of her natural tendencies as a city-guard and Varric because he was mentally takes notes for his books. Hawke was only on her second and not tipsy. Ale number four would put her there if Fenris even let her get that far.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the elf in question quired in exasperation, “You keep staring at me. Is it my eyes again?”

A chuckle from the pirate let her know who was eyeing him. Hawke couldn’t really blame her. She had had been eyeing him in secret since they had met. “You’re very lanky for an elf. I like lanky.”

Fenris arched an eyebrow as he shifted closer to Hawke. “From what I gather, you like a lot of things.”

“Nonsense. But when I see something I like; I go after it.” Isabela chided as she slung an arm over Merrill’s shoulders. The Dalish woman let out a contented purr as she rested her head on the Rivaini woman’s shoulder.

“That explains your current relationship with Merrill,” the Tevinter elf noted purposefully laying his arm with the red cloth tied to his wrist on the table. “Do you intend to go after me then regardless?”

“Mmm, tempting, but I like what I have now. If it had been a few years ago, oh definitely,” she cooed as Merrill began snoring lightly.

Isabela paused as a random thought struck her. “Say hypnotically, if things were different now, would you take off all that spiky armor you’ve been wearing?”

Hawke watched as Fenris seemed to actually consider the question. Anders spoke up before he could respond. “You can’t be taking her question seriously. Hawke is right there!”

Fenris disregarded the mage’s protests as he looked Hawke right in the eye, a smirk playing upon his lips. “It’s been known to happen…for the right person.”

Hawke felt herself smile like an idiot as he took her hand in his. Their fingers lacing together as he moved to pull her into his lap. A part of her said he was doing it to spite Anders and lay further claim to her in front of the others. A larger part of her didn’t care and put up no fight against his actions.

“Ah,” the pirate said as Anders glared at Fenris. “Then forget it. It’s probably better this way anyhow. No spikes aren’t as fun.”

“Daisy doesn’t have spikes,” Varric pointed out.

“Yes, but kitten has other things that are just as delicious,” the pirate rejoined as she moved Merrill’s head to her lap.

As Fenris’ hand coiled around Hawke’s waist she heard an annoyed sound from Aveline. The Guard-Captain had been listening more than participating in the conversation most of the night. “How are you so successful with men, women--whatever? You’re not that pretty.”

Fenris’ hand found hers, holding it against her stomach as Isabela shrugged. “Cast a wide enough net and you are bound to catch something.”

“That explains everything,” Anders muttered as he returned his attention back to his ale, his glaring at Fenris apparently concluded.

Aveline laughed hardily. “At least you’re willing to admit it.”

“Trust me. I’ve heard get away from me, you pirate hag more times than I care to count,” the Rivaini pirate admitted with an amused grin; Merrill stirred in her sleep, blinking her eyes up at the older woman.

Setting her tankard down, Aveline asked in all seriousness, “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Why should it? They don’t know me. I know me.” Isabela replied firmly as Merrill reached up and played with her hair.

“I know you, Bela,” the Dalish murmured with a smile.

“Yes, kitten. You do,” Isabela replied softly, not caring that the rest of their group gawked at them. Of all of them to be in a serious relationship, no one had thought the pirate and the Dalish elf would have been it. Since the pirate’s return after the battle with the Arishok, something had subtly changed regarding Isabela. Not that she would actively admit it, but her relationship with Merrill was evidence enough of it, especially after the elf’s clan had exiled her.

Hawke felt Fenris squeeze her waist just a bit. He didn’t have to say anything. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She had been thinking the same. They knew each other and had known each other better than they had been willing to admit for years. Only now were they able to admit everything to one another, at least when it came to their feelings for one another.

Leaning in, Fenris murmured, “My armor has only ever come off willingly for you.”

She gave him a grin, shaking her head. He knew he didn’t have to tell her that. She knew of his past and that many of his actions as Danarius’ slave were not of his own choosing. Whatever had happened back in Tevinter, she cared only in the vain that it might adversely affect him. If it mattered not to him, it mattered not to her.

As far as what had occurred during his time in Kirkwall, before their first time together didn’t matter. The time after that night shouldn’t have mattered but it did. She had found out after they resumed their relationship that he had not been with anyone during those three years nor before. There had only ever been her. He had confessed that only she made him feel safe enough to be that intimate with. She could appreciate that and had confessed to him that he had been her only one in all her years in Kirkwall despite whatever tales Varric wove.

Merrill by that time had sat back up and was making contented noises as she watched them. Varric wore a knowing grin as Sebastian merely winked. They were not subtle in their actions; Hawke knew that. But it didn’t bother her. It didn’t truly bother Fenris any longer either though he feigned annoyance. It was just one more truth to their existence. Their friends would either gawk at them or tease them, but they wouldn’t tear them apart. They all knew the value of friendship and finding someone special to share their life with. Hawke continued to hope hers would be shared with Fenris.

**********

It was near midnight when Varric decided to try to get a rise out of Sebastian again. The group had long since finished any dinner they had been served and while not the last patrons in The Hanged Man were still the most active. While Hawke knew they were loud, no one dared attempt to quiet them. That was either due to Varric’s continued habitation there or the group’s reputation as a whole. She reasoned it was probably a combination of both.

Hawke had never wanted to be a Champion, a source of hope or fear for anyone, a protector for people she didn’t know. Beyond her commission in the Ferelden army she had never sought to protect anything larger than her family. And now, she was the protector of a city her mother had always spoken of, but she had never seen until circumstances forced her to. The journey there had taken her brother, the city’s darkness had taken her mother, and the Gallows had take her sister. She had a new makeshift family now and grateful for them but still missed her original one.

She shifted in her seat as Fenris came back with something besides ale. It was wine. She had long suspected he had given some from the abandoned mansion to Varric for favors the dwarf had done for him over the years. He gave her a half grin as he sat down beside her once again, leaving virtually no space between them.

“You know, choir boy, I wouldn’t normally say this but…the shiny white armor? It works for you,” Varric offered the compliment cheerfully.

Sebastian set his ale down, glaring warily at the dwarf. “That’s uncharacteristically kind of you Varric.”

“Makes you look like a lacquered pilot whale,” the merchant guild member replied with a broad grin.

“Ah, now that’s much more in character,” the prince noted shaking his head with a laugh. “I was beginning to think something was wrong with you.”

“Nah, just having a little fun,” Varric said as he shrugged. “Can’t let Rivaini do all the talking.”

“Why not? She does enough of it for all of us combined,” Sebastian noted as he glanced at the pirate.

Currently, the dark-haired woman was once again staring at Fenris. Without acknowledging what the Starkhaven man had said, she began randomly, “I heard that Tevinter slaves are kept oiled up, so they glisten. Did your master oil you up? Did you glisten for him?”

Fenris closed his eyes as he sighed. The pirate’s fascination with his lyrium markings and his past as a slave had been going on for years. “I was his bodyguard.”

“Always close at hand. Always within reach. Glistening.” Isabela smirked as Hawke split her attention between the two. She knew Bela would do nothing to come between her and Fenris but sometimes…

“You have an entire story written in your head already, don’t you?” He seemed more amused this time rather than annoyed.

Hawke rolled her eyes as Bela simply made a satisfied noise. “Mmm.”

Fenris let out a chuckle. “As long as you keep it in your head.”

“Ah, but it would help if I knew if you glistened for Hawke,” the pirate countered with a devious grin.

Fenris opened his mouth and then closed it. Glaring at the woman, he seemed unable to make a retort without resorting to threats. Hawke cocked her head, feeling a bit mischievous herself. “He only glistens when we are very enthusiastic about one another.”

A round of laughter erupted from the table as Fenris looked at her in disbelief. It was a rare occurrence when she would utter such a thing in public even amongst friends. Without an adequate response coming to mind he muttered, “Festis bei umo canvarum.”

“You’d have it no other way,” she murmured back leaning in close, kissing his temple.

Before the Tevinter could respond, Anders blurted out, “Isabela, I keep thinking I know you from somewhere other than Kirkwall.”

“You’re Ferelden, right? Ever spend time at the Pearl?” Isabela asked looking like she already knew the answer.

“The Pearl?” Sebastian asked innocently.

Aveline groaned. “It’s a fancy brothel in Denerim. Like the Rose I suppose.”

Anders ignored the side conversation as he exclaimed enthusiastically, “That’s it. You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name?”

“The Lay Warden?” Isabela offered as Merrill listened with fascination.

“That’s right. I think you were there the night I—” he trailed as he waggled his eyebrows.

Isabela’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh! Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was nice.”

Hawke let out a groan. “Please stop talking. Now.”

“I don’t think I need to know this about either of you,” Varric added as he made a face of disgust.

“We get to hear how spike armor only comes off for you and that the elf glistens when you are enthusiastic, but we can’t tell a story of electricity used for fun in the bedroom?” Anders pointed out almost pouting. He quickly focused his attention on Hawke. “I bet you can’t say you’ve experienced anything like that.”

Hawke shook her head as she felt Fenris shift closer to her. “No and I’m likely never to need to. I am quite satisfied with my adventures in the bedroom thank you.”

Anders made a face but didn’t press the matter further. Fenris said nothing as he pressed a hand to the small of her back, making circling motions with his fingers. Whatever he had been feeling earlier, it was clear that his focus was still on her. She smiled feeling grateful he hadn’t responded to Anders’ taunt. She had never been overly confident in her sexual experiences but with him it didn’t matter. Either way, she hoped no further conversation would focus on the subject.

Her hopes were dashed within moments as she heard Bela once again spout out random questions. “So how good is Donnic? You’ve been married for years now and we never hear anything about the steamy bits. Is he cocksure?”

Aveline sighed, her expression showing she realized that sooner or later the conversation would make its way to her, being the only married one of the group. “Just…get it out of your system.”

Varric let out a chuckle as he took quill and paper in hand. “This ought to be good.”

“Did he curl your toes? Dwarf your beard? Float your frigate?”

“Dwarf your beard?” the author looked up from his writing. “Really?”

Bela simply gave him a mischievous grin and went on. “Shank your Jory? Praise your Maker?”

“Forgive her Maker and the blessed Andraste. She knows not what she says,” Sebastian murmured almost in prayer.

“She knows exactly what she is saying, choir boy,” Varric corrected still taking notes.

“Or master your taint? That’s an old one,” Isabela added as she glanced at Anders.

He sighed shaking his blond head. “You just had to go there didn’t you?”

She smiled as Hawke noted with disappointment, “She’s not done.”

“Dampen your Divine? Kaddis your Katie? Establish his cannon? Or did he Cup your Joining? Grope your grinder?” the pirate continued much to everyone’s chagrin.

“Grope her grinder?” Merrill echoed curiously. “Why would you call it that? It sounds like it would hurt.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Fenris explained in growing annoyance. “All of these idiotic comparisons are.”

Isabela glared at the elf but continued once again, “Pamper your Paragon? How about satisfy a demand of your Qun? Arl your Eamon? Gray your Warden?”

“Yes. Alright. He’s an incredibly proficient lover. Happy?” Aveline exclaimed as she threw up her hands, clearly done with it all.

“Well that’s rather personal don’t you think?” Isabela made a face, obviously not expecting the admission from the Guard-Captain.

Aveline let out a growl as Hawke said, “You know she didn’t just come up with all those on the spot. She’s been saving them all for just the right occasion.”

“And you just let her use them on me?” the red head accused.

Hawke held up her hands. “Hey, you told her to get it out of her system and I’m not married.”

“Yet,” Varric muttered as he finished his scribbling.

Fenris mumbled something in Tevene as Merrill giggled. “You all are so cute when you pretend to be angry with one another and you’re not.”

Everyone looked at her in disbelief. She could be as bad as Isabela about saying random things. The Dalish woman continued as she said, “We all have our differences, but we somehow get along…I think it started with Hawke and Aveline and Bethany. You came so far together, and you didn’t even have a Keeper to make you get along.”

“So, your Keeper tells you to stop kicking each other or she’s going to turn the aravel around?” Aveline asked somewhere between amusement and skepticism.

Merrill nodded. “Sometimes she would also warn us to stop pulling hair.”

Another round of laughter erupted from the group as Hawke watched her friends make jokes about being a dysfunctional family. And she would readily admit to anyone there were. Her friends had become her family. She had never thought any of them expect for Aveline for would stuck with her for nearly seven years. But each had proven time and again they would stick by one another despite their differences.

They weren’t bound by blood but by friendship. Granted Kirkwall was not the most hospitable place to live and had added some dark chapters to her life. It had also given her some of her most precious moments. She could have gone back to Ferelden but had never been able to bring herself to. Now she knew why. Kirkwall wasn’t her home. Her friends were. With everything she had lost, she still had friends, a family. All she had to do was look around the room to know that, to know she was not alone.

Chapter Text

Sebastian stood on the raised platform just below the towering statue of Andraste. He faced the Grand Cleric and seemed to be in a deep conversation with the older woman. “Do you never intend to the public an answer, your grace?”

Elthina cocked her head. “What have I been asked?”

Hawke could sense the prince’s frustration as his stance became tense. “About the mages. You could calm this fire if you stepped forward.”

“The Chantry’s teachings are clear. Those that would turn against them would not listen more to me than they would to Andraste,” Elthina replied as a patient parent would to a child who insisted on something unreasonable.

Cora Hawke sighed inwardly as she realized the reason she had been called to the Chantry. She had hoped maybe the Grand Cleric could manage the contain the situation with her involvement being necessary. As usually she was wrong. No one wanted to do anything if they could call upon the Champion of Kirkwall. “Mages and Templars. That is all that seems to be talked about in Kirkwall nowadays.”

Sebastian nodded as she came to stand beside him. “The last time mages rebelled against the Chantry, they ended up ruling Tevinter. Should we just ignore them?”

“I did not expect things to deteriorate so fast. I thought after the Qunari, no one would wish more violence,” the Grand Cleric admitted reluctantly as she turned to the man that was like a son to her. “It has drawn more attention that I would like. Sebastian, if I could ask—”

“Anything, your grace,” the archer replied quickly. Hawke knew he would do anything she asked. That was to be expected. Now she would wait for her turn…

“And the Champion, too, if you will…”

“I am your humble servant,” Hawke replied with a nod. She couldn’t really refuse whatever the woman was going to ask. But it was becoming tedious that no one else would stand up for Kirkwall. There were more than just Templars and mages in the city. All the other people would be caught in the middle. Who would stand up for them if she didn’t?

“You honor me,” Elthina said as she looked at them both gravely. “The Divine is concerned about the situation here. She does not want the Free Marches to become another Imperium. She had sent an agent to…access the danger. Meet with her, please. Tell her drastic measures won’t be required.”

Hawke tried very hard not to gawk at the chantry woman in disbelief. An outside party with the ability to end the conflict before it started offered help and the Grand Cleric wanted none of it. “Won’t this end more quickly if the Divine gets involved?”

“Has Kirkwall not suffered enough? Should it be declared anathema and an enemy of the Chantry?” Elthina responded dramatically. Gesturing around them, she continued, “Imagine Hightown’s streets, filled not just with Meredith’s templars but all the forces the Divine can command.”

Sebastian looked at her in shock, his blue eyes wide. “Surely the Divine wouldn’t treat the whole city as enemies.”

Elthina glanced at him sadly. “She is concerned. It is never wise to draw the concern of the powerful.”

“She is the voice of Andraste,” the archer exclaimed as he motioned to the large statue of the Maker’s Bride above them. “She cannot turn the might of the Chantry against the innocent due to…proximity.”

“Were no innocents harmed in the Exalted Marches?” the Grand Cleric replied as if scolding a child. “She will do her best, Sebastian, but she must act first to protect the faith.”

“And who will protect the people caught in the middle who have done nothing but have faith?” Hawke finally asked, no longer able to hide her contempt for the whole situation. Shaking her head, she asked, “What can you tell me of this agent of the Divine?”

Either Elthina chose to ignore her first question or she was hoping Hawke would be the one to protect the masses, she answered the second one. “I was not told her real name, only to call her Sister Nightingale. She is said to be the Divine’s Left Hand, sent to do work that might blacken the Divine’s name.”

Already knowing the answer, she asked anyway, “What argument would convince her?”

“The Divine has already heard my protests,” Elthina answered in a tired tone. “I must trust your powers of persuasion now.”

Sebastian’s voice held all the frustration and annoyance Hawke was feeling. Maybe not for the exact same reasons but close. “We cannot allow this…ridiculous mage rebellion to turn into a holy war.”

“This agent, Sister Nightingale, will be waiting in the viscount’s throne room tonight. She wishes to remain…unseen. The room has been ordered sealed since the Qunari incident. It may be difficult to get in without attracting attention,” Elthina explained calmly. “May the Maker watch over you and the blessed Andraste guide your steps.”

Hawke turned as she motioned for Sebastian to follow. As they drew further from the Grand Cleric, she murmured to him, “Despite her hopes, this will not end well either way.”

Sebastian sighed. “I suppose the best we can do is to hope we can mitigate the damage as it were.”

*******

Cora sat in a plush chair beside the fireplace in the library. She held in hand one of Fenris’ shirts. She had a small pile of mending to do. Despite the fact that Orana could sew, Hawke had always done her own especially after her mother had passed. It gave her something to do when she needed to think, keeping her hands busy. It also allowed her to feel as if she had accomplished something even though it was small.

Glancing out the window, she thought back to how things had begun in Kirkwall. Having to work their way in, living with Gamlen in Lowtown. Freeing themselves from indentured servitude after a year and then trying to make enough coin to get out of Lowtown. To maybe get their mother’s childhood home back. And now she sat in Hightown, in that very estate. Without her brother, her mother, and her sister. They had gone through so much to get to Kirkwall and now the mages and templars threatened to take it away.

Bethany was in the Gallows. She was sure her sister was not part of the problem. Anymore she felt that even the Knight-Captain was no longer part of the problem. They had both made mention of other more extreme factions within their respective groups being the source of the tension. Most mages and templars did not want open conflict. Would the Divine really punish all of both groups and the normal citizens of Kirkwall to end a threat that was not the wish of the whole?

*******

A red head with twin daggers approached their group after the attacking mages had been defeated. “The Resolutionists. I might have known they would be a part of this.”

Hawke sheathed her own weapons a Sebastian lowered his bow. “Who are the Resolutionsts? And I hope you understand if my friend here doesn’t put up his big sword yet.”

The woman had an Orlesian accent as she nodded, her eyes following Fenris. “An offshoot of a fraternity within the Circle of Magi. There have always been factions that support freedom from the Chantry and the abolition of the Circle. We have…tolerated them. But the Resolutionists have become violent. They are likely behind the unrest here.”

“Maker’s breath, is nothing ever simple?” Hawke asked in frustration. The whole thing was much more complicated than she had realized. “Are you Sister Nightingale?”

“I am. Or you may call me Leliana,” the red head replied with a hint of a smile. “The Divine sent me to investigate the possibility of a rebellion here in Kirkwall. I have…some experience in unconventional situations.”

Hawke sighed. Of course, the Divine would send someone like that. “The Leliana? Who accompanies the Hero of Ferelden to slay the archdemon?”

“Ah. I see it will be harder to remain anonymous so near the Ferelden border,” Leliana sighed as Fenris came to stand beside Hawke. “Yes, I knew the Hero of Ferelden. Perhaps you have heard the songs I wrote of our time together. But that…was many years ago. I am working for the Divine now. In Orlais, I had thought not return to this part of Thedas.”

“I appreciate you stepping in back there,” Hawke said as Fenris grunted. Clearly there was something he wanted to say but wouldn’t.

Leliana nodded. “Of course, they mistook you for me. So, they must know I am in Kirkwall. The Divine has long thought the problems in Kirkwall were spurred on by an outside group. This attack proves that she is right.”

She heard Fenris chuckle softly. Annoyed that he had figured it out before she did, Hawke asked aloud, almost sounding accusatory, “Are you saying you set this whole thing up?”

“I let word slip that an agent of the Divine was coming to investigate the mage troubles,” Leliana replied matter-of-factly. “It is how they chose to react which condemns them.”

“Please don’t do anything dire. We still have a chance for peace,” Hawke pleaded, thinking of Bethany and all the other people who would be caught in the middle. “There are thousands of people here that would pay the price. They have done nothing to warrant the wrath of the Divine.”

“Divine Justinia takes the situations here very seriously. She believes it is the worst threat to Thedas since the Qunari invaded,” Leliana replied solemnly, seemingly almost indifferent to the fact there would be collateral damage.

Sebastian protested as Fenris remained quiet. “A handful of apostates? How can that possibly—"

Leliana shook her head. “The whole world is watching Kirkwall. If it falls to magic, none of us are safe. Tell Elthina to leave. There is refuge for at the Grand Cathedral in Orlais. She will not be safe here.”

Hawke watched as the Left Hand of the Divine left the viscount’s throne room with no further explanation. Hawke fisted her hands at her sides as Sebastian muttered, “These mages are out of control.”

“It is not all mages,” Fenris said quietly. “Bethany Hawke is certainly not one of the mages inciting rebellion. She knows too much of the real world and the dangers of magic to want war.”

Hawke was grateful for his statement of support of her sister as Sebastian replied, “Be that as it may, not all mages have the benefit of being Cora Hawke’s sister.”

“Being my sister is not what gives Bethany the ability to know what is dangerous and what isn’t,” Hawke snapped sharply. “There are surely others that know this is a dangerous situation, even amongst the Templars.”

“But the mages are the ones—”

“Are you blind, Sebastian? We were just told by the Grand Cleric that the Divine must protect the faith first. The Divine’s Left Hand just said for Elthina to leave Kirkwall, glossing over the safety of all those faithful followers that live here. Things are not as we think they should be,” Hawke seethed in anger as she began walking away. “No one will protect the innocent because no one cares anymore.”

******

Hawke finished the shirt and moved on to one of Fenris’ pairs of pants. Her thoughts went back to her childhood in Loathering. Their mother had taught herself how to sew, how to mend clothes. As a noble’s daughter, she had not had to learn how to sew clothes. She had learned decorative stitching. But being stubborn she refused to rely on anyone else to make her children clothes or mend them. Leandra had become quite good at it in fact and taught all her children, including Carver.

Her brother had complained every time he was given a lesson or made to sew his own clothes during boyhood. When he had joined the army, he all but kissed their mother in thanks. He had admitted that knowing how to mend his own clothes had meant his things didn’t wait around for a seamstress to fix and get given back to the wrong person. In fact, he had made a little extra coin because of that skill.

She had joined the army before her brother, hoping to give him some space. She knew he resented being in her shadow, especially after their father passed away. Instead he had run off to join the army as well. She had never known whether he had done it to spite her or to try and prove something to himself. She had come to believe that it was a mixture of both.

Now he was at the Maker’s side with their parents. She could only hope that he was happy, that they all were. She closed her eyes. Bethany was still alive but now she was once again threatened in the very place that was supposed to be safe. As Kirkwall would have it, she wasn’t, and it wasn’t because of anything she had done. It was extremists. They would see everything destroyed unless they got their way.

Hawke glanced down at the pair of pants. Those that wanted war—their voices were louder so were their actions. Those that wanted peace, compromise needed to speak louder, but would they? Could they?

******

Hawke knew when she made her way through the Chantry it was not a subtle march toward the Grand Cleric. It was late but a few sisters still milled around the corridor. “Sister Nightingale says you must leave Kirkwall.”  

“What?” the elder woman exclaimed, clearly not what she had expected to hear upon their return.

“You were right. The Divine will be taking action against Kirkwall, though the sister didn’t say what,” Sebastian replied, his tone mirroring her own frustration. “You must take the holy relics from the chantry and leave for safety.

Elthina declared loudly, her voice ringing in the large room. “Sebastian! I’m surprised at you. Andraste would not thank me for saving a few dusty finger bones and my own skin at the cost of people’s lives.”

Hawke had enough of everything. Could she not see the threat? She might even be a target for the extremist groups. Either side could blame the other for her death if she were assassinated. What food would that do for Kirkwall? “You will do no one any good dead.”

Elthina looked affronted by the comment. “When I became Grand Cleric, I took a vow to the people of Kirkwall and the Free Marches. I will not leave my flock.”

“Would you let yourself die?,” Sebastian asked, his expression looked pained as he asked almost as if he already knew the answer.

The Grand Cleric’s voice became compassionate as she replied with a verse from the Chant of Light. “‘There is no greater devotion than to lay one’s life at the Maker’s feet. There is no better death than to take the blow for another.’”

“Sister Nightingale took a great risk to warn you. Do not be rash,” Hawke commented, feeling her patience run out. “Self-sacrifice will only get you so far. What about your flock? What will become of them if you are dead?”

Sebastian pleaded as the Grand Cleric turned from Hawke, “Please your grace. Sister Nightingale thinks there will be war.”

Elthina drew up to her full height. “Then I must make piece. Settle yourself, Sebastian. I’m in no personal danger. I am grand cleric—who would dare attack me?”

“If you will not shield yourself, then I will be your shield. You will come through this safely, by the Maker’s name, I swear it,” the Starkhaven prince had promised as Hawke closed her eyes. Of course, he would sacrifice himself to protect the woman that had been a mother to him. She really couldn’t blame him for that. What upset her though was the arrogance of the woman to believe that she was somehow above an assassination attempt. The viscount was dead and had been for years. No one wanted the job because of that. Meredith and Elthina were the next two most powerful in Kirkwall. Meredith was surrounded by Templars, a very hard target to reach. Elthina was surrounded by chantry sisters. Belief would only get you so far. Sometimes the Maker’s work needed a little help from the mortal realm an if she couldn’t see that, Hawke feared for her future and that of her friend almost as much as she feared for Kirkwall.

What could she hope to do to keep everyone safe?

******

The events from the day and night did nothing to make Hawke think Kirkwall would come out of any mage-templar conflict unscathed. The tensions ran too high and too few people were willing to take a stand. They believed the Templars would keep any and all mages in line. They believed the Divine would make sure only the mages threatening rebellion were routed. They thought their faith would protect them. Those in power either believed that they could suppress any and all threats or that their mere presence was enough to dissuade any rebellious act or extremist activity from either side. It wouldn’t be. She was sure of that.

She had literally no idea what to do except to keep a vigilant watch over the city. What else could she do? No one seemed to be willing to come to a compromise or even work toward a peaceful solution. As Champion of Kirkwall it fell to her, whether she wanted the responsibility or not…

She sighed and folded the mending she had finished. Fenris had gone to bed earlier after making sure she was alright or as alright as she could be. He knew the best thing for her at the moment was time to collect her thoughts. As she continued to gather the clothes and her sewing kit, she heard someone walking up the steps to the library.

“Isn’t it a little late for chantry brother’s to be sneaking into noble women’s home?” she asked, knowing by the sound it was Sebastian.

He chuckled. “I gave that up long ago, Hawke. But if I were inclined to do so now, you would definitely be on the list…But I have a key so…”

Hawke shook her head as she glanced up. The Starkhaven man stood as the top of the stairs with a small grin, his sense of humor surprising her. He rarely shared it with the group at large but she had come to enjoy it when he did share. “I think I should be flattered, but I am taken.”

“I know, and I am a brother in the Chantry so it is only a what could have been scenario,” the prince replied with a wistful expression. He fell silent as she watched him walk to the fire. After a long moment, he asked quietly, “What if you were viscount? Would you do anything?”

“You want me to be Viscount?” Hawke asked in surprise. The thought of holding that position had never once crossed her mind. Being Champion was enough of a challenge.

“Andraste said ‘the Maker is the king in the heavens, but the kings of Thedas who must recreate his worldly glory.’ I keep thinking about that,” Sebastian replied as he began pacing in front of the fire. Clearly the day’s events had affected him just as much as it had affected her. “Who better serves the Maker: a brother of the faith or a prince who can sway a whole city?”

Setting aside her pile of mended clothes, she rose to her feet. “Today has be a source of doubt, a test of our faith, making us question what part we should play the in events that are unfolding. Even through all that, I am certain of one thing. Every person does the Maker’s work in their own way.”

“Elthina is risking her life by not deserting her flock. Could I do the same?” he asked, his tone letting her know he needed to voice his thoughts to someone, and he had chosen her. “It’s been fifteen years since I lived in Starkhaven. The people there are only a memory to me. Kirkwall. The Chantry—that’s real. That’s where I belong.”

“You’re a man of faith, Sebastian,” Hawke noted with a smile, glad he seemed more certain of the path he wanted to take. “You’d have hated politics.”

“You’re probably right. Bootlicking nobles and bickering farmers—I’d have sent the whole lot to do penance,” he responded with a heartfelt laugh. He turned sincere as he met her gaze, “I do appreciate you hearing me out. You’ve been a good friend, Hawke. I will stay for you as much as for Her Grace.”

She nodded and hugged the man she had come to think of as a brother. He returned the gesture as she said, “You know you can confess anything to me. I’m not a chantry sister but I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t, Hawke,” he replied as she let her go. “I just needed to talk to someone…Elthina won’t listen. I cannot blame her for not leaving her people, but she could step in and say something to Meredith and Orsino. She won’t though…”

“I know,” Hawke said sadly. “She wants to be here for her people but at the same time…she won’t do anything more than that…She relying on us to stop anything that might happen.”

“It’s an incredible burden to bare. One I know you do not wish to,” Sebastian noted. “But you are not alone. Remember that when the time comes. We are here with you.”

She looked up are him. “You are staying with the Chantry, but you would still take up arms?”

“Someone once told me that we all serve the Maker in our own way,” he reminded her. “Whatever that way is, whatever storm is coming…I have faith that you’ll find the way out for all of us. You always do.”

Chapter Text

Moira laid at the foot of the couch, resting on their feet as usual. The loyal Mabari had made the trip from Loathing all the way to Kirkwall and still remained by her mistress’ side. Hawke doted on the hound as if were a child. For the loyalty she had shown, Fenris truly could not blame her. The dog had taken to him quickly once she had deemed him not a threat.

He had come to respect the Fereldan hound as both a capable warrior and a protector of the woman leaning against him. Hawke was currently resting against his shoulder as he read from a book fittingly enough about the very dog keeping their feet warm. He paused, marking their spot with the ribbon they always used.

Glancing down at the Mabari, he commented, “They really are a fascinating breed. Such intelligence and strength.”

“It sounds like you admire her,” Hawke noted as she shifted against him. He could hear the smile in her voice.

“How can you not admire those qualities in a dog? Especially when she and her whole breed display them while so many people do not,” Fenris replied as he leaned forward to scratch Moira behind the ears. The dog made a contented noise as she leaned toward him for better access.

“Are you referring to anyone specific or just in general?” Hawke asked as she sat up.

Glancing back at her, he smirked. “I meant in general but if you wish names I will provide you a list.”

“Am I on that list?” Hawke asked in an amused tone, as she curled her legs underneath her. Moira shifted onto her back at the movement, begging Fenris to rub her belly.

“I value my life so no,” he replied knowing full well she would retaliate at the slight as he moved to pet the mabari’s stomach.

A whack to his shoulder let him know she was not amused. Knowing exactly what to say to get back on her good side, he murmured, “I admire you as well, my Lady Hawke.”

He turned to look at her again, knowing he would see her blushing. Despite her status as Champion of Kirkwall, Cora Hawke was still incapable of accepting most compliments without blushing, especially from him.

“Fenris,” she almost whined his name as he simply smiled and returned his attention to the dog.

Deciding to spare her anymore embarrassment despite his sincerity behind the words, he changed the subject back to the dog. “Do you ever wonder what she thinks about?

He heard Hawke make a thoughtful sound as if considering her answer. “Truthfully, I’m not always sure I want to know…I mean I’ve caught her digging through the trash and chasing away burglars all in the same day. I’m not sure exactly what her priorities are or goals in life. Maybe she just acts spur of the moment…Though I suppose she could have planned to sift through trash and just happened to chase out the burglar. Burglaries are kind of sporadic like that.”

Fenris chuckled at the response as he leaned back on the couch. “Are you aware that this breed originated in Tevinter?”

He felt her shake her head as she moved to lean against him again. “I wouldn’t tell her that if I were you, Fen.”

The Tevinter elf snorted as he wrapped an arm around her. “I think she might enjoy the tale…and you as well. The magisters bred them. It's said the Mabari defected during the Imperium's invasion of Ferelden.”

Moira barked as she sat up, staring at him. Hawke asked in amusement, “I take it you only like one Tevinter, don’t you girl?”

“Merely a tale, but I rather like the idea they found the barbarians more... palatable than the mages,” Fenris commented as the dog seemed to bark in agreement.

“Exactly so,” he said as Hawke chuckled at the two. He had thought when he first caught Hawke talking to the Mabari it was some sort of half crazed Fereldan quirk. Over the years, he had come to understand the dog actually understood what she said, at least enough to make it appear she did. Her loyalty was unquestionable. Her strength an amazing thing to see. Her mischievousness matched only by Varric and Isabela.

“So, I’m descended from barbarians now?” Hawke asked as she looked up at him, an eyebrow arched.

Fenris knew she were baiting him, willing him to say something that would give her an excuse to scold him. How they had gone from reading a book to talking about the qualities of a Mabari to this, he had no idea. He was never quite sure sometimes how one arrived at any topic of discussion and sometimes actual physical places when one was involved with Hawke. Simply having her in his life was an adventure and one he would not trade for anything.

“I believe Andraste was descended from the Ciriane-Alamarri tribe, her mother and father from differing tribes. She rose to be a strong, intelligent, compassionate leader. The Maker’s bride and his prophet after everything was said and done,” Fenris replied as he moved the forgotten book to the side table. “Is she not from Ferelden? I would hardly think that being descended from such a group is necessarily a fault. Both she and you have proven it’s certainly not.”

“Fen, are you attempting to smooth talk me?” Hawke asked leaned in closer to him.

“Perhaps,” he murmured as he bent down to meet her lips with his. “How am I doing?”

“Very well,” Hawke replied as she wrapped an arm around his neck.

He chuckled as she asked seriously, “It sounds like you believe in Andraste.”

Fenris pulled away from her a little. “I have seen too much since arriving in Kirkwall, since you entered my life not to believe in something. Perhaps my belief is not as stronge or devote as some, but something is responsible for the opportunities I have been granted. Whether it’s the Maker, Andraste, Dalish’s Creators, or the dwarves’ ancestors, I did not know. Perhaps it’s all of them, but I do know that my belief in you has never wavered.”

“So, when you asked the other day that question you believe?” she asked in a quiet voice.

He furrowed his brow struggling to remember what question she was referring to. It must have been a personal question of some sort…

“Hawke, I—”

She made a face. “The question you asked me after we helped one of Varric’s contacts. The one who was in charge of the research he’s having done on what’s left of Bartrand’s idol.”

“Ah,” Fenris said. That question. The question neither one of them truly had an answer to except that trouble always found Hawke. Somehow. “How is it you get into those situations so often?”

Hawke nodded. “What did you mean exactly?”

“Cora, really?” he said in half disbelief. “Attacked by dwarves, approached by strangers, stumbling upon ancient riddles... madness.”

“It does feel like some unseen force is manipulating my fate,” she noted with an ominous tone.

Fenris glowered. “It's so wonderful having my personal business as someone else's sport.”

She shrugged, her tone becoming lighter. “I don't know why it's like that. Fate, I suppose.”

He rolled his eyes as he played with her loose hair. "Fate is a word for the Maker's poor sense of humor.”

“Fine,” she replied moving to sit in his lap. “It's a gift then.”

Laughing he pulled her against his chest, “In that case, I think you should return it.”

He watched as she pretended to pout. This was a recent development in their relationship. She had always had a look that he could never refuse but the actual use of a pouting lip combined with those eyes and her sitting in his lap was new and only done when they were alone. While he had come to enjoy it, he knew it was a way of her asking for attention without actually asking for it. He could only guess as to why she did it aside from seeing his reaction. He thought it might have something to do with the fact that after her father, she had been tasked with taking care of her family and simply didn’t know how to ask for attention or felt out of place doing so.

With the increasing feeling it was because of that, he indulged her in the silent request. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, “I meant your propensity for trouble, not you. I would never give you up.”

Fenris felt her shiver against him despite the warmth in the air from the crackling fireplace. “Fen.”

He smiled as he urged Moira to vacate her place on his feet. The Mabari let out a quiet whimper of protest but complied. Rising to his feet with Hawke in his arms, he noted, “Perhaps we should continue this conversation in another room? One with a bed…”

As he journeyed through the quiet estate to their bedroom, Hawke clung to him, nuzzling his neck with her nose. He smiled knowing he had guessed correctly as just what kind of attention she was wanting. Often their teasing ended with either simply kisses or a little more. Tonight, his lady wanted more. With all of the crises they had faced in the past few months he had been hard pressed to deny her anything, not that he could in the first place. Tonight, it would be no different. He would show her once more that he would not give her up. Ever.

*********

Fenris laid on his side caressing Hawke’s arm slowly. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow as her uneven bangs covered her eyes. He smiled to himself, knowing by her breathing that she were still awake, just merely relaxed. They had made love tenderly minutes before. Fenris saw to her every need almost before she knew it herself. It had become almost second nature to him to know what she might need or want.

It was not born out of the time he had been a slave and expected to anticipate what his master might want. It was born out of the desire to make the one he cared for most happy. He had come to realize that being able to put his past behind him or at least beginning the process had allowed him to realize what freedom could mean if he let it. He could live his own life, free to discover what he wanted, what he could do with his life on his own terms. He could chose who he allowed in his life, who he cared for, who he spent his future with. The woman he now shared a home with was a choice he could now make.

He would do anything to keep her in his life, to keep her happy, to keep her safe. Her natural tendency to find trouble and the odd chances of danger finding her did not make any of those easy to do though. Hawke was a careful woman, but her heart was big. Her sense of duty to those around her large. She felt as if anyone in her life was worth her protection no matter their pasts or their faults. He might not always agree with her choices because of those traits but he was alive and free because of them. If she had not stood by him so many times when she did not have to, a large part of him believed he would have long ago been taken back to Tevinter by Danarius.

She had not given up on him. He knew she never would. He could do no less for her and in the trying times that Kirkwall currently face, he knew he could not leave her side. She was the Champion of Kirkwall but also still a human, a woman who felt the weight of her title more than outsiders saw. He would be there to support her in any way he could.

“You’re thinking about something very hard,” her voice called up to him.

He looked down at her about to protest when he realized he had stopped stroking her arm and had gripped her shoulder. Instead, he sighed. She could also tell when something troubled him. “I was contemplating what…how different things are now for us. And yet some things stay the same.”

“Different?” she echoed tilting her head up to look at him through her bangs.

He made a sound of amusement as he moved the hair out of her eyes. “Yes. Take this for instance. I would never have imagined in my wildest dreams to call your estate home or share a bed with you every night 6 years ago. I would never have thought I could be rid of Hadriana and Danarius or that I have a group of friends—a family.”

“Fen,” she murmured raising a hand to cup his cheek.

“Of course, somethings stay the same,” he whispered as he kissed her quickly. “You have noticed that everywhere we go, people try to kill you.”

“You've been responsible for that yourself, on a few occasions.” She shot back with a smug grin.

He narrowed his eyes, not willing to let her make light of it entirely. “You are too willing to involve yourself in the affairs of others, Hawke.”

The elven warrior watched as she clenched her jaw, refusing to comment. Pressing his point, he went on as he placed his hand over hers against his cheek. “Each time you put yourself at risk. One day you will not be so lucky.”

“You have a better idea?” Hawke asked heatedly as she jerked her hand away, clearly not liking where the conversation was heading.

Fenris replied automatically as he raised up into a sitting position. “Guard what you have. Keep your head low.”

She looked up at him in disbelief. “That sounds like a way to go through life without ever knowing anyone.”

“I... suppose that is true.” The words sounded hollow in his mind. Of course, his advice was trite. She could never do it nor would he want her to. If she had, they wouldn’t be together now.

“How well has that worked for you, Fenris?” Hawke asked heatedly as she shifted to the other side of the bed. Looking over her shoulder, she asked dejectedly, “It is what this is?”

His head jerked to look at her in shock. She could not think that. After everything they had been through, she could not think that. He moved to the side of the mattress she had retreated to. His thoughts had come out so badly they threatened to push her away. Gently but firmly he pulled her up into a sitting position. She protested weakly as he held her to him, her back to his chest as he kneeled behind her on the bed.

“You know that is not what this is,” he said against her ear. “This is better than anything I could have ever dreamed. I want to be with you. I want a future with you. Please forgive my inadequate words. I did not mean to cause you to believe I felt otherwise…I—I worry for you.”

Fenris felt her shift against him as she exhaled sharply. After a long moment, she said softly, “I worry about you too.”

He felt her trace the lyrium tattoos on his arms. “We are together. That is something I have never experienced before. All of my instincts tell me to keep you safe, keep you locked up here at the estate to keep you from harm. If I did that though you would cease to be the woman I care so deeply for. I fight those instincts every day so that you can be who the Maker needs you to be. I will be at your side no matter what.”

He heard her hum in contentment as she leaned against him fully. “Promise?”

“I promise, amatus,” he murmured as he began kissing a trail from her ear down her neck.

Moving his hands to her stomach he began making small circle with his thumbs as she suddenly proclaimed, “I know. I’ll be like a dragon! Guarding my treasure hoard.”

“That's not what I meant,” he mumbled as he dropped one hand to her thigh.

“Shall I eat passersby? Maybe I can demand virgin sacrifices.” Clearly over what he had said earlier, the Champion of Kirkwall continued to make light of what had caused him to turn serious before.

“Even dragons are eventually slain, Hawke.” He scolded as he nipped at her neck. Glad she was no longer upset with him, he still could not shake the feeling he should have been clearer, less scolding when he attempted to answer her question.

She rolled her neck to the side to allow him more access as she purred, “Without risk, there's no reward.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed but still felt the need to remind her of the reality of the situation. “Or perhaps one day you may simply end up being rewarded with a blade in the back.”

“Not your blade, however,” Hawke turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She seemed to be searching his face for something.

All he could say in response was a promise. “Not my blade, no. My blade will always be yours. I will always be yours. I will always be at your side. I could do no less. You have never given up on me. I will never give up on you.”

A smile graced her fair features as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know being with me isn’t the easiest. I know you don’t agree with everything I do, every choice I make. But…you stay with me anyway. Thank you, Fenris. I—Just thank you.”

“You never need thank me for being with you, Cora. It is my choice and the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmured as he hugged her tightly. “Custodiet te, et ego semper.”

Chapter Text

How had it come to this? Standing in the middle of two sides to a storm that would never cease, Cora Hawke found herself pinned between the two forces that had threatened to tear Kirkwall apart well before her arrival during the Blight. Now Meredith and Orsino stood face to face trading barbs and insults, blaming each other for the city’s problems and the state of the world. Neither caring that their actions would affect more than just those in the Circle. That’s when Anders had stepped forward, adding more fuel to the fire.

“I will not stand by and watch as you treat all mages like criminals while those that would lead us bow to their templar jailers,” the apostate mage proclaimed as he emphasized each word with a thump of his staff on the cobblestone.

Orsino sputtered in outrage, “How dare you speak—"

“The Circle has failed us, Orsino,” Anders pressed as he gestured behind them across the harbor to the Gallows. “Even you should be able to see that.”

Hawke watched in horror as Justice flared, altering the mage’s voice, but it sounded more menacing than ever before. “The time has come to act. There can be no half measures.”

“Anders, what have you done?” Hawke asked in desperation as she stepped forward to confront him.

Anders slammed the end of his staff into the ground declaring, “There can be no turning back.”

A low hum began followed by a brilliant bright light from the center of Hightown. The hum grew louder until it became thunder. The ground shook as the sky became red. The Chantry exploded into millions of pieces, raining debris across Kirkwall. The energy blast from the explosion pushed a dust cloud outward obscuring the view of Hightown, but there was no mistake that the Chantry was gone, along with everyone in it. Hawke stood frozen, helpless as chunks of the building fell upon other parts of the city, causing even more collateral damage. How many had been killed outside the Chantry as well?

“Maker have mercy.” It was the Knight-Commander’s silent plea that caused Hawke to shake free of her shock. She turned to look at Ander who stood almost proud amongst the horrified crowd.

“There can be no peace,” he stated as if it was a given fact everyone should know.

Sebastian cried out as if a wounded animal, “Elthina! No! Maker no! She was your most faithful, your most beloved…”

Her already fractured heart shattered as the Prince fell to his knees. The raw pain in his words given voice to the pain she felt. “Why didn’t she listen to me?”

How could it have happened like this? Of all the possible way for things to unfold, she had never thought that one of their own would do anything like this. Anders had worked for years with the mage underground. He had said he wanted to separate from Justice because he realized it was wrong. He had asked her to help him and convinced her his desire was genuine. He had used her. How long had he been using her, lying to her? Had he ever really trusted her?

“Blessed be the souls of the faithful that they ascend to your right hand,” Sebastian calming voice as he said a prayer for the dead, brought her back.

She gazed at Anders as she sensed the rest of their group form a tight circle behind her. The mages still on one side with the templars on the other. Debris and dust continued to rain down as the red light began to fade.

Orsino looked to Anders in disbelief. “Why? Why would you do such a thing?”

Anders replied, his desire for those around him to understand his motives bleeding through as he spoke, “I removed the chance of compromise because there is no compromise.”

Finding her voice, Hawke finally said softly, “You killed the grand cleric and countless innocents.”

Anders turned to her, the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter momentarily forgotten. “It had to be done. She would not have acted anyhow. Too afraid to enrage either side. She hoped templars and mages could come to a peace on their own. But even the Divine knew better. This will save lives in the long run.”

She shook her head. “How? Do these lives—the people of Kirkwall not even allied with either side—mean nothing to you?”

Before he could respond, Meredith began speaking as much to herself as anyone. “The Grand Cleric has been slain by magic; the chantry destroyed…”

Speaking louder, making eye contact with every single person in the crowd she declared, “As Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Every mage in the circle is to be executed—immediately.”

There were murmurs of surprise from all parties present. Hawke even heard Fenris make a muted sound of shock. Before she could protest the First Enchanter gestured to Anders and then her. “The Circle didn’t even do this. Champion, you can’t let her. Help us stop this madness.”

Meredith never one to be out done stepped towards her a split second later. “And I demand that you stand with us. Even you must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated.”

Sebastian ever the voice of common sense spoke up. “Why are we debating the Right of Annulment when the monster who did this is standing right here? I swear to you, I will kill him.”

She looked at the Chantry brother. He had chosen to stay with the Chantry and had promised to protect Elthina. Now the Chantry was destroyed and the woman who had been a mother to him murdered. Did he want justice or vengeance? She had to get a grip on the situation before things became worse. She had promised to protect Kirkwall…

“Sebastian, you can’t mean to—”

“He killed her, Hawke! And countless others! How can you as Champion, as a human with a soul not see he must be punished?” the Starkhaven asked as he pointed at the apostate.

Anders’ voice called back to her as if sensing her conflicting emotions. “It can’t be stopped now. You have to choose.”

She let out a sound of disgust. “The Circle mages are not responsible for this. But your actions have placed their lives in danger! The very lives you were trying to free! Do you realize what you’ve started here?”

“I do. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier,” the Ferelden apostate admitted as he looked at her sadly. “The Circle is an injustice, in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see.”

Sebastian seethed in a threatening tone that sent shivers down Hawke’s spine. “Elthina is not the Circle. She was a good woman and you murdered her.”

“You fool. You’ve doomed us all!” Orsino snapped as he waved his hands at the templars, his expression one of hatred.

“We were already doomed,” Anders countered as he shook her head. “A quick death now or a slow one later—I’d rather die fighting.”

Hawke couldn’t help the betrayal she felt at his continued insistence that there was no other way. There had to be. There was always another way. You just had to look for it. How could he assume he knew the best way for all? His actions had condemned Bethany to death if Meredith had her way. “You’re a murder. The grand cleric, the mages…their blood is on your hands.”

Anders hung his head. “I know.”

That was it. No explanation, no apologies, not even an excuse. Nothing. He gave her nothing. Instead she was left with the knowledge he had betrayed her, used her. That knowledge tainted the apology for not telling her earlier. How could she trust him at all now?

“It doesn’t matter. Even if I wished to, I cannot stay my hand. The people will demand blood,” the Knight-Commander stated with a sad tone.

Before Hawke could act a mage cast a fire spell engulfing one of the nearby templars. Hawke yelled a warning, but it was too late. The two sides were at each other’s throats. Hawke and her friends had no choice but to defend themselves from both sides. Why had the mages attacked first? Why had Meredith declared the Right when it had been an apostate at fault? Nothing made sense. They were fighting for no reason.

Finally, it ended; bodies from both sides strewn across the street. Hawke quickly took count of her people. All were alive with only minor injuries. Fenris made eye contact with her, assessing her own health. She nodded which seemed to satisfy him for the moment. Orsino yelled from the distance, “You will regret taking sides, Champion. She will betray you too.”

“If you call defending myself from both templars and mages taking sides sure,” she mumbled as she glanced at Anders. He had taken a seat on a discarded crate as if waiting for his fate to be decided.

She took a few breaths as the echoes of the fleeing mages faded into the distance. It was then that she saw Bethany remained with her friends. Hawke stood up straight as she noticed that Fenris and Varric had taken defensive positions between her sister and the remaining templars. The younger Hawke sister would not run, not even if her life were in danger. It was not the Hawke way. They stuck together no matter what. Cora nodded at her sister who gave her a small smile in return. Her friends would keep her safe while Hawke dealt with the shit storm the templars, mages, and Anders had stirred up.

“It would seem the mages made the choice for you…” Meredith noted in a tone indicating she thought she had won a battle of some sort. “I must gather my forces at the Gallows. Meet there as soon as you can, Champion…I’ll leave this… murderer for your to deal with. He’s your companion. Do as you see fit.”             

The Knight-Commander turned on her heel without affording Hawke an opportunity to respond. She watched as the rest of the templars followed, their armor clanking in the eerie silence. She glanced up at the sky, the red light from the explosion having faded. Debris no longer rained from the sky and the dust had settled. Even so, her heart still raced. The same questions echoing in her mind over and over. How could one of their own done this? How could she have been so wrong about him?

“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself,” Anders’ voice called to her, as if reading her thoughts. She turned back to him sharply about to chastise him when he continued, “I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this. This is the justice that all mages have awaited.”

Hawke shook her head, her disbelief at his actions still very palpable. “You say justice. That’s supposed to be the name of the spirit you bonded with. But this? This act? It’s an act of vengeance. That’s what the spirit has become, isn’t it? Did that spirit tell you to do this?”

“No,” he answered firmly, looking straight ahead. “When we merged he ceased to be. We are one now. I can no more ignore the injustice of the Circle than he could.”

“You told me you wanted to separate from Justice. That you saw it was wrong,” Hawke said making no effort to hide the betrayal she felt. “You used my friendship and trust to afford you a shield from the templars. You used me as a means to an end. Did our friendship ever mean anything to you?”

She watched as tears threatened to fall. Anders took a shaky breath. “I have always treasured your friendship. I have always treasured you even when I could not have you…Justice once told me that demons are just spirits perverted by their desires. I made my friend a demon, and we did this. My anger and desire for mage freedom made him Vengeance. That’s is all that is left.”

“Do not hide behind your spirit. It was your hand that did this,” Sebastian interjected as Hawke took in all that her friend had said. He knew exactly what he had done. He hadn’t been coerced by the spirit—demon whatever it was now. There was nothing else to believe except he knew what exactly what he had done and wouldn’t take it back if he could.

He cast a glance over his shoulder, his words meant only for her. “I wanted to tell you. But what if you tried to stop me? Or worse, what if you wanted to help? I couldn’t let you do that. The world needs to see this. Then we can all stop pretending the Circle is a solution.”

“So, it’s up to you to decide how things should be?” Hawke said, gesturing the direction of her sister, ignoring his desire to protect her. “You condemn hundreds of innocents to death and you place Bethany’s life in danger. Meredith means to kill everyone in the Circle because of your actions.”

Anders protested, loudly, “It’s obvious how things shouldn’t be. And there will be lives lost whether I acted or not. What of all those souls lost to the Circle since its inception?”

She was at a lost. She just couldn’t understand how he justified the war that was sure to follow, maybe not today but someday soon. “You really think this is the answer?”

“Things can’t stay as they are.” He let his words hang in the air as if that were enough to convince her he were right.

Hawke asked in a voice, wavering with emotion, tears pricking at her eyes. “So you start a massacre to prove a point?”

“I’m not proving a point. I’m changing a world. You’ve never been part of a Circle. I have,” the apostate protested, no longer attempting to appeal to her personally. “The people fear what we can do, but to use that fear to bludgeon us into submission is wrong! And they do it with our blessing! And if I pay for that with my life…then I pay. Perhaps Justice would at least be free.”

Hawke froze. He wanted to die. He didn’t want to live any longer. He hoped his death combined with his actions would be a rallying call for mages to rise up and fight for their freedom. Bethany would be caught in the middle. The innocents of Kirkwall and so many other cities would be threatened by war between the templars and mages. The Divine was already considering an Exalted March and would not care who got in its way in order to put the rebellion down. It was all so meaningless. So many not directly involved would pay the price…

“If I’d been in that Chantry today, would you be waffling? You know what must be done,” Sebastian asked as she remained frozen, unable to act. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill a friend, even one that had betrayed her trust.

Fenris said as if to help her make the decision, “He wants to die. Kill him and be done with it.”

For once she found no solace in his words as she carefully avoided looking at any of her friends. Isabela voiced an appreciation for the mage’s actions Hawke almost couldn’t stomach. “Bold plan. Or at least I thought so.”

“He should come with us. Try to put things right,” Merrill offered ever the optimist. That wasn’t an option and Hawke knew it. Either by their hand or someone else’s, Anders had forfeited his life the moment he had decided to plot the course his actions had put them all on.

Aveline as predicted disagreed. “Belief is no excuse. Sincerity does not justify…this.”

Varric added with disgust replacing his usual upbeat tone, “I think I’m sick of mages and templars.”

Hawke couldn’t agree more as her eyes fell onto her sister. Bethany said nothing, just offering a knowing look of what needed to be done. The Champion of Kirkwall gripped her dagger and closed her eyes. How had it come to this? How could she do it? Kill a friend even though he had betrayed her…

Sebastian placed a hand over hers. “You cannot let this abomination walk free. You know this.”

“I know,” Hawke whispered wishing she were off somewhere hiding away with Fenris reading some book he would complain about but would read anyway just to hear her reactions to his ongoing commentary. “The Grand Cleric and all the others deserve justice.”

“Yes. I would not deny anyone’s right to that. The sooner I die, the sooner my name lives on to inspire generations,” Anders agreed as her heart broke. He was not the man she had met before the Deep Roads expedition. She knew they had all changed but not like this. She had always found Anders witty, charming, a big flirt, compassionate to others in need, passionate about making things better for mages. But now his anger she knew he harbored for the injustices mages faced had overwhelmed him, making him unrecognizable to her. She knew he was right in that the things between mage and templar needed to change but not like this.

She gripped the dagger tightly not daring to open her eyes. If it would all just go away… “I can’t do it. I can’t kill him. I know that—that he deserves it but—”

Sebastian pried her fingers from the dagger’s grip. “Then I will do it for those no longer capable of taking a breath. It will not solve everything, but it will make sure true justice is given.”

She finally looked up at him, freely shedding tears. “Why?”

“Because you have shouldered so much for all of us. This should not be one of them. Let me lighten your load. I take no pleasure in this, but this is not something you should bear. He will not make you bear this as well. I will not allow it.”

She nodded numbly as she turned to Anders, his back still to her. Vael unsheathed his own dagger as Anders sat up straighter. Hawke backed away, coming to stand beside Fenris. His hand wrapped in the red cloth bearing her family crest wrapped around her waist. He said nothing as Sebastian moved to stand behind the apostate.

“Good-bye Cora,” Anders said. “My only regret is the pain I have caused you, but mages must be free.”

She closed her eyes, unable to witness yet another death of someone she cared for no matter the circumstances. She had lost too much and now Kirkwall would lose even more. Their Champion had been unable to prevent the coming chaos. An ally had caused the conflicting powers to take up arms without any thought of the civilian casualties except to say they would die now or later. How could she protect them now when both the mages and templars were preparing to take up arms on a grander scale? How would Kirkwall recover from the devastation of the chantry explosion and the death of their grand cleric. How could she be considered their Champion if she had let this happen?

Sebastian came to stand in front of her. “It will never be enough. But it’s a start.”

Hawke opened her eyes and met his mournful gaze. He was right; one death would not make up for the hundreds that were dead. It would not make up for the betrayal she still felt. All she could do was keep on trying to find a way to end the chaos and remember the man Anders had once been. To keep the mages safe as he had always wanted. She would remember the healer not the abomination. She would remember the man that had once sought justice, not the one who turned to vengeance.

Things were changing. She could only hope she could be the force that stimmed the tide against change that would destroy the city.

Chapter Text

The crossing of the harbor to the Gallows had been a somber affair. With one of their own now gone, the tightknit group closed ranks, realizing that their actions in the next few hours would determine the outcome for many of the citizens of Kirkwall and possibly beyond. Hawke had allowed Sebastian to carry out the sentence for Anders. It wasn’t something she would have asked of anyone, but he had volunteered, saying she had shouldered enough. Maybe he was correct, but it still felt like it wasn’t enough. Anders maybe gone but the chaos he had unleashed lingered on.

“Carver would have supported you. Argued he might have done it differently, but even he would have seen this as insanity.”

Her sister’s words echoed in her mind. Bethany had taken her aside and hugged her as if there were no tomorrow. She had told her it was an impossible position that they had been placed in. She knew regardless of the trials that laid ahead, Cora would find a way to end it or at least minimize the damage. And whatever the future held, Bethany had promised her that she would be at her side. The Hawkes always stuck together.

She knew that her sister was trying to offer her support and she was grateful, but Bethany had to know that her sister would fight anyone who tried to enact the Right of Annulment on her. Cora would lose no one else to the selfish acts of others. The mages and templars would not take her sister nor any member of her family of misfits. It would end one way or another…

“Cora,” a low voice called to her. She turned to find Fenris mere inches from her, his expression grim. He never addressed her by her given name in public…

“What?”

He took her hand in his. “Custodiet te, et ego semper.”

“I know, Fen,” she murmured as she squeezed his hand. He said it as his version of confessing his feelings for her. She had grown to believe that it was his way of saying that he loved her. She knew he had never uttered those words to anyone in his memory as Fenris. Maybe he had said those words as Leto, but Leto was a fragment of a past he only glimpsed during his dreams. She couldn’t say those words yet either but they both knew how the other felt.

They would face the next few hours together as they had faced everything else. That was one of the few things she was still certain of. Fenris, Bethany and the rest of her friends would band together and face the chaos that surely awaited them in the Gallows. Meredith and Orsino would be made to see reason or they would be moved aside. Kirkwall would not suffer further for their arrogance and pride.

******

Hawke and her party arrived at the Gallows not long after Meredith and her Templars had. The sight that greeted them was similar to the one from before. The First Enchanter faced the Knight-Commander both flanked by subordinates. Neither’s demeanor suggested anything less than preparation for a fight neither of them would try to avoid. The longer this took to resolve, the more allying with either side seemed a fruitless venture. Both seemed too caught up in being right to truly care about ending things peacefully.

“And here you are,” Meredith said as she stood with her Templars around her. Knight-Captain Cullen stood just off to her left, having been at the Gallows since before the chaos started. He kept quiet but his amber eyes took in everything around him.

Orsino replied as he held his hands out beside him. “Let us speak, Meredith, before this battle destroys the city you claim to protect.”

“I will entertain a surrender. Nothing more,” the Knight-Commander stated as if the mage should already know that. Her stance as she spoke was of someone who believed they had already won the day. “Speak if you have something to say.”

“Revoke the Right of Annulment, Meredith. Before this goes too far,” Orsino offered as he took a couple of steps towards the Templar leader. Motioning to the old Tevinter structure around them, he added, sounding almost sincere, “Imprison us if you must. Search the tower. I will even help you but do not kill us all for an act we did not commit.”

Hawke stood silent, hoping to the Maker that the mage leader was sincere in his words and that reason would win the Knight-Commander over. Something told her this would be the very last chance to avoid further bloodshed. Unfortunately, that same voice told her blood would still be spilled. Maybe if it could be confined to the Gallows….

“The Grand Cleric is dead. Killed by a mage. The people will demand retribution and I will give it to them,” Meredith stated firmly, her Knight-Captain shifting behind her uncomfortably. “Your offer is commendable, Orsino, but it comes too late.”

Hawke shook her head finally stepping forward. “We can still prevent this. Before you both tear Kirkwall apart. The city need not pay for the sins of one apostate. The First Enchanter has offered you an olive branch. How can that not be considered when his people did not have anything to do with Anders’ actions?”

“You heard her. She’s wanted this all along,” Orsino said bitterly looking to Hawke. His tone indicated he had expected nothing less from the woman who had been his adversary for so long. Hawke watched as the elven mage turned back to the blonde templar leader, seemingly resigned to his fate. “So what is it to be Meredith? Do we fight here?”

“Go. Prepare your people. The rest of the Order is already crossing the harbor,” Meredith replied with a wave of her hand as if to dismiss him like she would from her office.

“This isn’t over.” Orsino warned as he motioned for his people to retreat farther into the Gallows.

Meredith paid him no attention, either not wanting to grant him anymore of her time or wanting to appear as if his threat meant nothing. Either way Hawke knew that neither side would listen to reason. Negotiations were officially off the table. It seemed battle was the only option.

Bethany would know the lay out of the Gallows, they had two mages, two archers, a dagger wielding pirate, three warriors including her. Their best option was probably to tag along with the Templars and try to stay Meredith’s overzealous hand. Maybe the Knight-Captain could help with that.

Hawke glanced at the blond templar who briefly met her eyes. His expression was grim as he returned his attention to the orders Meredith was no doubt giving him. He was something of a wild card in that she knew he had expressed doubts of his ability to serve the Order and Meredith. He was concerned that it was no longer one in the same. Maybe that would be enough to help him see the folly of Meredith’s actions. She couldn’t rely on that exclusively though.

Instead she turned to her people, her family, the ones she knew she could count on. The doubts Anders’ actions had instilled in her threatened to have her second guess that trust. She would not allow it. She couldn’t. Too much rode on what happened in the next few hours.

“Vishante kaffas.” The Tevene swear came automatically to her lips when no other words seemed appropriate. Nothing was simple. Ever.

Fenris glanced at her with a smug expression. “You learn the more colorful words of my native tongue but not the more socially acceptable phrases.”

“Blame my teacher.”

 “Festis bei umo canavarum.” Fenris grumbled as their group began following the templars, their other forces coming into view from the dock.

“Not today, Fen. We don’t lose anyone else today.”

***

Meredith had sanctioned Hawke and her group to scout ahead. Cora could only feel that instead of believing in her group’s skill, the Knight-Commander either thought to use them as a shield or hoped the mages finished them off before she did. The Templar leader’s actions and words had given Hawke no confidence that the other woman wouldn’t turn on them as soon as the Circle was dealt with.

Making their way to the wing containing the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter’s offices and training areas, Hawke motioned for them to stop. A sixth sense told her something was amiss. It was too quiet. Neither Templar nor Mage was present. That could only mean that Orsino and his people were preparing a surprise for the Templars and unfortunately by extension their group as well.

Having lived her life with two apostates for most of her life, she had become well acquainted with following her gut feeling. Her father had always told all three siblings to trust it, whether a mage or a soldier. It could save your life. She and Carver had learned their first sword lessons from Malcom Hawke. He wasn’t just an accomplished mage but an excellent swords man as well. Leandra had told Cora after his death he had learned the sword to fit in better, hoping to draw less attention to their family. His staff after resettling in Ferelden had been modified to include a blade at the end. He had done everything he could to keep his family safe and had passed on those skills to each of his three children. Now only two remained…

The sudden rush of feet and Fenris’ great sword being unsheathed broke through her daze. Three mages, two men and a young woman came into view. They rushed at Hawke as if chased. She knew her friends had taken up defensive positions just as Fenris stood at her side. Before he could swing his sword, the three mages fell onto their knees before her.

The one in the middle held his hands clasped together as if praying as he pleaded, “Have mercy! We beg you! Do whatever you want with us but let us live!”

Before Hawke could respond, Meredith’s voice rang out a predictable objection. “No! This Circle is beyond redemption!”

Hawke stood her ground, ready to defend the mages seeking protection as the Templars came to a stop just shy of the three kneeling people. Unexpectedly, Cullen Rutherford spoke up. “Knight-Commander, surely the Right of Annulment requires something more—"

“It requires my word, Cullen. Do as I’ve commanded,” Meredith snapped with a sharp glance at her second. Hawke watched as the Knight-Captain clenched his jaw. Apparently he had more to say…

“Champion, will you not defend us? Must we all be slaughtered for the actions of a few?” the young man spoke up with dark pleading eyes. The desire to live was evident in all three young mages. They had their magic. No Templar had cast a smite or silence. If they had, Bethany would have known. The three knelt before her, imploring her for help without resorting to blood magic either.

Hawke declared loudly so there was no mistaking her wishes, “I want to hear what the Knight-Captain has to say.”

Cullen looked nervously at his superior who turned a glaring eye at him. Finding the courage to carry on, he began slowly, “I…The Right has always been a last resort. When every mage involved was beyond salvation. The situation was far more dire in the Ferelden Circle and yet many mages were saved. We could still do as much here.”

“Objected noted, Captain.” That was Meredith’s only comment. She did not believe her second’s concerns were valid. Orsino had been right. She wanted to decimate the Circle and most likely had all along. The fact they had yet to encounter any blood mages mattered little in her mind apparently.

“Is there a way to tell if they are blood mages?” the Champion asked, thinking she was already certain of the answer. Her father had taught the Hawke siblings all about the dangers of blood magic and what might drive one to it. He had also said their was no way to know if one practiced the forbidden art until caught in the act.

Meredith stated somewhat smugly, “There is not.”

“But they haven’t resorted to it. Even to save their own lives,” Cullen interjected obviously trying to temper his superior’s hand. Maybe even he had seen enough blood shed to want to prevent more needlessly. “Perhaps if we watch them carefully, we—”

Meredith whirled around, pointing at him. “And if they hope to escape by playing innocent, will you accept that responsibility, Cullen?”

Cullen paused, looking his Knight-Commander dead in the eye. His voice was quiet but firm. “Yes. I believe that is what being a Templar is about.”

“And I say we are here to protect the people.” Meredith boomed for all to hear as she returned her focus to the three mages still kneeling between them. “We must be judges, jailors, and even executioners.”

Having enough of the Knight-Commander’s words, Hawke stepped forward, hands firmly fixed on her sword grips. “We’re here to prevent a crisis. Not raze everything in our path.”

Once again the Knight-Captain surprised Hawke as he turned to his subordinates and gave an order contradicting Meredith. “Listen to the Champion.”

Three knights moved passed Meredith to surround the mages, their weapons kept sheathed. Cullen followed them as the mage who had begged for help whispered his thanks. The Knight-Captain nodded to Hawke but said nothing more. Instead he motioned for the group to move toward a side entrance while Meredith glared daggers at Hawke. The Templar leader said nothing, but her expression made it clear. After the immediate crisis was settled, Hawke would be her next target.

Hawke ignored the woman for now as she turned to speak with her people, making sure that they knew what to expect from Meredith the second it was all over. As she turned to them, she noticed Cullen talking to a hooded figure in the shadows. It wasn’t a mage; the person had a quiver and bladed weapons strapped to them. A hand to the feminine form’s cheek by the Knight-Captain made Hawke do a double take. It was Kendrick. It had to be. But what was she doing at the Gallows?

The return of the three Templar-Knights to Meredith’s side without the mages, provided the answer. Cullen was entrusting Kendrick to spirit the mages to safety. Had he planned this or was this just an amazing coincidence? If Meredith found out about her, the Ferelden soldier would be in just as much trouble as she and her group would be. Maybe there was more to the Knight-Captain then she or even Bethany had thought. But that was for another time.

The rest of the mages awaited inside the Gallows, somewhere. Maker willing, they could be handled just as easily with no further blood spilled.

*****

 “With Carver I never got the chance to say good-bye. I won’t let that happen now,” Bethany said as she caught her sister by the arm. “Cora, if we don’t we don’t come back from this, never doubt that I love you.”

“Oh, Beth, I already know that,” Hawke said as she hugged her younger sister. “I always thought you might think I didn’t love you enough…You left to go to the Circle while I was gone…”

“Cora, that had nothing to do with you. You know that.”

Hawke nodded as Meredith rallied her Knights, giving them final instructions. “Being in the Circle must have been hard. Do you ever wish you had come on the expedition?”

“If I had, who knows where I’d be now,” Bethany answered with a shrug. “I always thought it was hard growing up outside the Circle. Always on the run. Never realized how free I was. Maybe it took being locked away in the Gallows to understand my place in this world. To see the need to free my fellow mages. But this? What Anders did? How can that be the way?”

“I had hoped he was sincere when he asked for help to separate himself from Justice,” the elder Hawke admitted quietly. “I had hoped he would talk to you, may be see that while the Circle isn’t perfect, extreme measures aren’t the way.”

“All these years I’ve tried to understand what Andraste saw. Why she had to lock us up. But my powers come from the Maker and I just cannot believe that is his will,” Bethany said as she looked around the Gallows. “Anders never spoke to me after I came here. I know what he thought of me, my decision. Fenris told me. That doesn’t make my choice any less valid. I would not change anything I’ve done except—”

“Except?”

“I’d have thrown Carver on his stupid ass so he wouldn’t attack that ogre. He was always such a show off,” the mage finished, her voice wavering slightly. “Everything else? The Maker is wiser than we can be in a lifetime. Who am I to question his plan?”

“We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

Bethany nodded as she whispered, “I know.”

Aveline approached, her expression letting Hawke know that she had news. Bethany turned to speak with Varric as the Guard-Captain smirked, “What a mess! You really put loyalty to the test you know? Donnic has kept the Guard protecting civilians. It’s been contained so far but we really need some luck going ahead.”

“I never wanted to mess up your life like this,” Hawke offered feeling she needed to make sure her oldest friend knew that one simple fact.

Aveline grinned. “I think it’s just sort of something that happens to friends of yours.”

The Champion looked away not feeling like partaking in any humor. A strong hand on her shoulder brought her attention back to the Guard-Captain. “Hawke, it’s worth it. Let’s bust some heads like the old days.”

“Just like the old days,” she agreed as she caught sight of Merrill and Isabela talking quietly.

The assurance from Aveline helped to bolster Hawke’s confidence as she called, “Shouldn’t you be half way to Tevinter by now?”

“Marker’s breath! Take off with a priceless relic once and you never hear the end of it!” the pirate said in a pouting tone as she slung an arm around the Dalish elf’s shoulders “Your life would have been easier if you have just cut me out of it. But you stood by me. You defied the Qunari and fought their Arishok for me. Even after I betrayed you.

“If you had gone with them, I wouldn’t have been able to yell at you,” Hawke said smugly as Merrill giggled. The levity helped to quell the growing anxiety she felt. “You came back and fixed it. That’s what counts.”

“Oh, well! I’m glad you wanted to yell at me so badly then,” Isabela replied a little awkwardly. She lowered her voice as she continued, “I know I don’t exactly inspire confidence, but I swear I’m going to come through for you this time. When you look for me, I’ll be fighting at your side.”

Hawke smiled. She knew the pirate meant it. She had come a long way since they had first met. “I know, Bela. And I appreciate everything you have done. Everything.”

“I suppose whether we succeed or fail it doesn’t really matter,” Merrill chimed in. “As long as we fight for what we believe is right…I’m ready for whatever comes…Does all this feel like a dream to you too?”

Hawke laughed. “In a moment I’ll look down and see I have no pants on.”

Merrill giggled as Isabela hugged her tightly. “The Champion of Kirkwall going to battle naked! Why can’t I ever have that dream?”

“I can give you better dreams, kitten. Just you wait,” the pirate cooed.

 Merrill shook her head, suddenly very serious. “Hawke, before we go I—"

“Merrill, whatever happens I’m proud to have known you,” Hawke interjected. “And I will always treasure your friendship. From both of you.”

The two smiled as Varric walked up to the Champion. She knew he would have some words to say even though he insisted he was not sentimental. “Nervous, Hawke?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Varric,” Hawke assured her, even though doubts still plagued her. Sebastian’s words of faith rang in her ears despite her misgivings.

Someone once told me that we all serve the Maker in our own way. Whatever that way is, whatever storm is coming…I have faith that you’ll find the way out for all of us. You always do.

 The Chantry brother had essentially turned her own words back on her and he had been right. “We can handle this.”

“The scary part is when you say that I actually start to believe it. I must be going crazy in my old age,” the author admitted as he tilted his head, becoming very serious. “You know me, Hawke. I’m not one for long good-byes but this? Defending innocent people? Preserving our way of life? This is worth doing.”

“Whatever I’m going into, its good to have you along,” she smiled at him. Aside from Bethany and Aveline, the dwarf had known her the longest, and in some way knew her the best. He had no part in the mages or templars, no loyalty to either side. Yet there he stood, ready to fight to end the madness. His goal to protect those he cared about and the city that was his home.

Varric stood a little taller, Bianca at the ready. “It has been an honor, Hawke. What do you say we put an end to all this waiting around and go meet destiny?”

Hawke refused to look at the Templars gathering at the base of the steps to the rest of the Gallows. “I say destiny better watch out then.”

Varric laughed as Sebastian came up to her. “I’ll let the two of you talk. Sunshine looks like she needs to hear a dirty joke.”

Hawke rolled her eyes as the dwarf walked away. The time for levity gone. Vael waited until they were alone “If Elthina had stood firm behind the Knight-Commander this wouldn’t have happened. There are times when even the best intentions lead to the void.”

“That was a terrible way to die. The Grand Cleric deserved better.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. The fact that some many had been lost because of Anders actions still had not truly sunk in.

“As did your mother, Hawke. We’ve both lost those dear to us to these maleficarum,” Sebastian added gently. “These mages will not stop until they overthrow the Chantry. There was never peace to be made with them.”

She shook her head. “Not every mage is at fault. Bethany certainly isn’t. Those three mages the Knight-Captain saved didn’t turn to blood magic to save their lives. The asked for help. My father wasn’t a danger except to those who tried to harm his family. You can’t really believe that all those who possess magic are inherently evil.”

The Prince worked his jaw. It was so easy to blame magic as a whole, to blame all mages for the actions of a few. Or in their case, one single soul. Anders. His impossibly blue eyes flickered to Bethany. “You were right. Are right. She isn’t strong because she is your sister. She is strong because those of the Hawke family know no other way. That will be your legacy. That will allow you to protect Kirkwall when no one else can.”

“Sebastian…”

“The Maker favors us in this fight. He must for we defend against his enemies—whatever banner they fight under. We will keep these groups from destroying this city further. If we fall here may we meet again at his side.”

All she could do was nod as Fenris appeared. “We need to move, Hawke. The Knight-Commander is about to give her comrades an inspirational speech about slaughtering those not responsible for this insanity.”

Sebastian glanced at the Tevinter elf. “I thought you detested magic.”

“I have come to see that not all those who possess magic mean to harm. And those that are meant to protect do not necessarily take that responsibility seriously,” Fenris replied as he took Hawke’s hand pulling her away from the others.

“Aveline says Donnic and the guard are protecting the civilians the best they can,” she said as he stopped well away from the others. “We have a little bit of time, but this needs to end tonight.”

 Fenris shook his head. “You take me to strange places, Hawke.”

“I’ll take you to stranger places than this. Just you watch,” she promised hoping she would be able to keep it later. If they made it out alive, she contemplated taking Isabela up on becoming a pirate. Maybe it would be less dramatic and risky.

“A tempting offer” Fenris replied with a smirk. He kept a hand on hers as he took a step closer. “I…may not get the chance to say this again. Meeting you was the most important thing that ever happened to me, Cora. Promise me you won’t die. I can’t bear the thought of living without you.”

Needing to feel like everything was going to be okay, Hawke teased the elf as she smirked, “I didn’t quite catch that. Could you speak up?”

 “Then let me make it clearer for you,” the warrior stated as he leaned forward and grabbed her. Pulling her tightly to his chest, he kissed her hard. Hawke returned it with everything she had, pouring every emotion she felt into the kiss. She would not let any doubt remain about her feelings for the man that clung to her.

Breathily, she murmured between kisses, “I don’t make that promise unless you do, Fen.”

“Nothing is going to keep me from you, Cora. Nothing.” His promise meant everything as Meredith’s voice boomed across the small open courtyard. Her words rang hollow when compared to the promise Fenris and her friends had made.

“Let me tell you what is about to happen. We have the unenviable task of entering the Gallows and eliminating every mage we find within. You must harden your hearts. The magic within them is a disease that if allowed unchecked will spread and fester. We will do what we must. Maker have mercy on their souls.”

****

Cora Hawke stood amongst the remnants of the what had been the last of the Gallows mages. They had been able to save a few along the way; Cullen’s orders still in effect. Knights pulled less than 20 from the fighting, offering safety as the rest of the mages fought. Hawke couldn’t blame them for fighting; she would have in their place. But this? What they had been driven to?

The remains that littered the floor were hardly recognizable as human. Orsino and those that followed him had turned to blood magic. Caged and cornered like animals by Meredith, they had resorted to the forbidden arts to try and survive. In the end the massive abominations that had resulted had consumed all the remaining mages; any hopes of truly surviving gone. The massive monster lay in pieces at Hawke’s feet as the rest of her group and the Templars scouted the room for any possible remaining danger.

Bethany fell to her knees beside her sister. “I can’t believe it. How could he do this? This and kept Mother’s murderer a secret? He used Quentin’s research to do this! To become what he said we shouldn’t!”

“Such is the curse you carry difficult as it may be to accept,” the Knight-Commander said sadly as she approached the sisters, her sword still unsheathed.

“You! Your insanity drove him to this!” Bethany said loudly in a very un-Bethany-like manner. “He wouldn’t have done it if you had listen to his proposal. He didn’t want things to end like this, but you wouldn’t listen. You wanted this!”

Meredith raised her hand as if to dismiss Bethany’s accusations. “I will not argue with you, mage. My purpose here is clear.”

A humorless laugh escaped the younger Hawke sibling as she stood her ground. “And I’m just one more abomination to be dealt with. Yes. I see what comes next. You’ll deal with me and then the other mages that have been spared, won’t you?”

“Back away from her, Meredith,” Cora warned in a dark tone. She had promised no one else would be lost this day. If she had to take on the Knight-Commander to keep that promise than so be it.

Meredith’s blue eyes darted around, taking in the sight behind her. The rest of Hawke’s group taking up positions near the Hawke sisters, ready for anything the Knight-Commander may unleash. Slowly, the Templar leader uttered, “I see. Have it your way then. I will meet you in the courtyard, Champion.”

Hawke watched as the Templars retreated from the room after their Knight-Commander. Cullen lingered for a moment, his amber eyes seeking out the sisters. He gave them the slightest of nods and then turned on his heel, leaving with the rest.

Bethany let out a sigh of relief as she said, “Thank you. I don’t know if I deserve your help.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Really? You know better than that. You don’t think I could lose you too?”

“I know,” the mage replied as she hugged her older sibling. “It’s just…All of this seems like a nightmare. I trusted him. Orsino was supposed to be the best of us, yet he turned to blood magic. He knew who Mother’s killer was and I trusted him! The younger mages were stronger than our leader. They didn’t turn! How?”

“Maybe because they saw that one of their own was willing to fight the right way. Using their magic to defend the helpless instead of turning on one another,” Hawke offered with confidence. “Maybe they saw the daughter of Malcolm Hawke doing what he did all those years ago. Keeping people safe, using his Maker given magic to do good in the world instead of tearing it apart.”

“But—”

“Whether it be Circle magic or a Templar sword, both can be used for good or evil. It is the wielder that makes the choice how the tool is used,” Cora said looking her sister in the eye.

Bethany smiled slightly. “Father used to say that.”

“Father was right, about a great many things. He was right about you. You are a good person, Beth. Let your magic reflect that. Be the beacon the mages need right now.”

Bethany nodded as she hugged her sister again. They would get through everything together, no matter the outcome. Cora would stand at her sister’s side no matter what.

****

Hawke walked into the courtyard ahead of the rest of her group. She had asked Aveline and Varric to stick close to Bethany. The Champion of Kirkwall was sure the Knight-Commander was not done with her purge. That much had been made clear after the battle with Orsino. No mage would be left alive if she had her way. Not those Cullen had ordered saved nor her sister. Sebastian, Merrill, and Isabela fanned out in front of the other three, providing an extra layer of protection for Bethany as Fenris walked just off to the right side of Hawke, sword still drawn.

“Magic is a cancer in the heart of our land just as it was in the time of Andraste. And like her we are left with no choice but to purify it with fire and blood,” Meredith said as soon as she spied Hawke’s group. Trying to use grand words and the belief the Maker favored her cause, she attempted to rally her soldiers for one last task.

“Strange way to treat a sick patient,” Hawke noted as she came to a stop several feet away. She glanced at the Templars behind the blonde woman. Some seemed nervous while others stood tall and proud. There was a divide within the Order. Cullen’s actions had highlighted that. Maybe she could use that to her advantage. “Your actions drove some of these mages to blood magic even though it was Anders who was at fault. Why continue to punish and persecute those that had nothing to do with tonight’s terrible tragedy?”

The Knight-Commander shook her head sadly. “Sometimes a limb must be amputated to save a life. Unpleasant but necessary. And my surgery here is not yet done.”

Meredith paused as she tilted her head ever so slightly. When she spoke again, her tone had changed to one of suspicion. “I am beginning to wander just how large your part in all this actually was. A refugee came to our city with an apostate sister, gathering power and influence without any accounting? How can I trust that the mighty Champion of Kirkwall is not a worse threat to this city than the Circle?”

“Is helping you all but destroy the Circle not proof enough?” Hawke snapped in disbelief. She heard Varric utter an ‘uh oh’ from behind her as Fenris moved closer to her. Thrask had been right the whole bloody time. Either through paranoia or just extreme belief, Meredith truly believed no mage deserved to be alive.

“Proof of what? Your lies?” Meredith boomed as she pointed accusingly at Hawke. Gesturing around her, she continued without a pause, “Proof that you are more clever than even Orsino? The people of Kirkwall will mourn your loss, but I will tell them you died battling the mages. A righteous cause.

Hawke gripped her swords tightly. She would not let it end this way, not when the woman in front of her could destroy Kirkwall with a single word simply because she hated magic so much.  She had already gone too far; she had to be stopped no matter the cost. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done here.”

Meredith laughed humorlessly as she gestured to herself. “I will be rewarded for what I’ve done here. In this world and the next. I have done nothing but perform my duty. What happens to you now is your own doing.”

“Knight-Commander, I thought we intended to arrest the Champion,” Cullen interrupted as he stepped forward, placing himself between the two women. Clearly his superior had not shared her true intentions with him.

“You will do as I command, Cullen.” Meredith uttered the words as a decree she did not expect to be denied. Admittedly, the Knight-Captain had almost always supported the Templar leader, rarely going against her. However, many Knights had admitted to Hawke over the years that they preferred reporting to Rutherford rather than Stannard. He could be reasoned with and had noticeably changed during the past few years. His view of what the Order should do versus what Stannard said they should do appeared to be at odds. It was something she knew he had trouble resolving.

“No. I defended you when Thrask started whispering that you were mad. But this is too far,” the Ferelden Templar stood firm, his expression one of defiance.

“I will not allow insubordination!” Meredith yelled as she quickly unsheathed her sword. Pointing it at Cullen she ordered, “We must stay true to our path!”

The unmistakable hum and red glow of red lyrium froze everyone around the Knight-Commander. Only Varric and Cullen seemed unaffected as the dwarf mumbled, “Andraste’s dimpled butt cheeks!”

Rutherford was the first to step back, holding up his hands as if to guard against the red sword. The rest of the Templars followed suit as Hawke mumbled ‘kaffas’ under her breath. Could things get any worse?

“You recognize it do you not?” Stannard asked with smug pride as she held the sword with one hand, pulling the blade along the gauntlet of her other. “Pure lyrium. Taken from the deep roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize.”

“You do realize the idol poisoned Bartrand’s mind in the end?” Hawke noted, fully aware the Knight-Commander was beyond being reasoned with at this point. The woman had made a sword out of the red lyrium idol from their Deep Roads expedition. How was that normal? The only answer was that it wasn’t, and that the idol had exacerbated her already strong paranoia concerning mages and magic.  

Meredith stated as if there was no questioning her judgement, “He was weak whereas I am not.”

She made a grand sweeping gesture with the sword as she pointed at Hawke. “All of you! I want her dead!”

“Enough!” Knight-Captain Cullen roared, taking a step towards his superior officer. “This is not what the order stands for. Knight-Commander step down! I relieve you of your command.”

Meredith lowered her sword to her side, her expression slowly morphed into one of understanding. “My own Knight-Captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic.”

Hawke watched as she quickly looked around her, eyeing her Templars suspiciously. The red lyrium had already made her paranoid beyond rational thought. There would be no civil discussion as it become apparent Meredith may have had the idol for years.  “You all have.  You all are weak, allowing the mages to control your minds. To turn you against me.”

Whirling the sword around the group that now circled her, Stannard pointed at random Templars until she turned her focus back to Hawke. The red lyrium sword mere inches from her chest as it continued to give off an eerie hum. “But I don’t need any of you. I will protect this city myself!”

Hawke watched as the blond Knight-Captaoin unsheathed his own sword and stepped completely in front of her. “You’ll have to go through me.”

“Idiot boy! Just like all the others,” Meredith sneered, keeping her sword level with her Knight-Captain. There was no mistaking the tone of her voice for anything other that ego. She truly believed she alone was uncorrupted by blood magic.

“She’s lost it. Just like Bartrand,” Varric murmured grimly from behind her, echoing her exact thoughts.

Hawke had no time to respond as she watched the Knight-Commander thrust her red lyrium imbued sword into the cobblestone. She knelt reciting, “Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not faulter.”

Meredith stood as the Templars took up defensive positions around her at Cullen’s urging. Out of the corner of her eye, Hawke saw some members of the City Guard as well as Kendrick accompanied by the spared mages emerge from the shadows. They would fight, together. They would be victorious. They had to be. Hawke saw no other way…

*****

It was over. Somehow by the Maker’s grace, it was over.

Hawke glanced around in stunned silence at the Templars who had followed Cullen’s lead. The entirety of the Order had taken one knee, shields to their sides, swords resting across their chests. She still couldn’t believe it; the Templars she had involuntarily sided with bowed to her as the mages they had spared nodded at her. It was almost too much to believe.

The massive metal guardian statues in the Gallows courtyard laid strewn across the open area, now lifeless. Somehow the red lyrium had allowed Meredith to bring them to life as reinforcements for her. Now like them, she was no longer a threat. Petrified into a mangled stone statue, radiating a red glow. Her sword discarded nearby still gave off a glow of its own as it continued to hum. The Knight-Templar that had attempted to touch the remains of her Knight-Commander retreated from the unnatural sight.

Hawke finally allowed herself to breath as she slowly sheathed her weapons, her friends following suit. Not in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that things would end this way.

“Champion,” Cullen called to her as he stood up. He approached her slowly. “Hawke. I—The Order and the people of Kirkwall owe you a debt I am not sure we will ever be able to repay.”

She gave him a tired smile. “You can start by assuring the mages you saved are protected not persecuted. They and the Order can help keep Kirkwall safe. The people need us to work together now more than ever.”

Cullen took in the sight around him. Some of the mages had mirrored Bethany’s attempts to offer healing to the Templars who were the worst off. He nodded. “It will be done. I—I do not know what would have happened if you had not—”

“You acted as well, Knight-Captain,” Hawke interjected as she extended a hand to him. “We all acted together to end this.”

His mouth became a tight line as he glanced just beyond her. “I could have acted sooner…I am glad that—that it was not too late.”

Taking her hand in a firm grip, giving her a small, rare grin, he added, “I will do better. You have my word I will not fail this city again.”

“Thank you, Knight-Captain,” she replied as she motioned to Bethany. “Perhaps a certain Senior Mage could help with that as well.”

Cullen followed her gaze. “Perhaps it is time for some changes…”

Hawke nodded as she turned to find her friends offering help to Templars and mages alike while Aveline directed some of her guards back towards the city. She closed her eyes listening to the sounds of people helping one another, to Cullen giving orders, the Donnic assuring his wife he was fine, to Merrill fussing over a scratch Isabela had received, to Varric trying out descriptions of the battle on Sebastian, to Fenris’ feather light footsteps behind her.

“Na via lerno victoria,” Fenris murmured in her ear as he came to stand right behind her. “Only the living know victory.”

“Is this a victory, Fen? So many people still died that didn’t have to. We-I couldn’t stop it from happening,” Hawke asked in a quiet, uncertain voice.

His hands came to rest on her shoulders as he offered, “Look around you, Cora. Take a moment and truly look around you.”

She did as he instructed. She saw her sister healing a Templar. She saw a younger Templar-Knight helping to move a young apprentice away from the damaged area of the courtyard. She saw City Guards and Templars working in groups to begin a search of the Gallows for threats and survivors. She saw her friends take account of each other and then move to other people to help as they could. She saw the Knight-Captain who had finally stood up to Meredith pull a hooded woman away from the crowd.

She cocked her head as she watched the Templar push back the hood to reveal the woman who had delivered his message about Aveline’s troubles with Jevin months ago. He said something to her to which she pushed at his chest plate. Cullen suddenly pulled the black-haired woman to him, kissing her passionately.

Hawke glanced back at Fenris. “I suppose this is a victory…in many different ways…It just shouldn’t have come to this.”

“War. Battle. Fighting. These things are never fair to those involved. Some suffer. Some come out better than they were. Some lose everything. Some change because of what they witnessed.”

She turned to face him. “So things change with a victory. Some small. Small big. Some good. Some bad.”

Fenris nodded. “You already know this. You know you did everything you could to help protect the people of Kirkwall. That is why you were made Champion. That is what makes you worthy to continue to bear that title.”

“Fen—”

He held her close, cupping her cheek. “You kept your promise to me. You came out of this alive. That is victory enough for me. I will always be at your side…”

She tilted her head up, kissing him tenderly. “I want this victory to mean something to everyone…To be proof that hope still exists.”

“Ah, Cora. You still think you can bear everyone’s troubles for them,” Fenris said as he looked into her blue eyes. “The future for the people of Kirkwall depends solely on what they do today, in our present. If they chose to embrace the change and make it better it will be. But that is their choice.”

Cora Hawke hugged him, not caring what the others might think or say. There was still work to do but right then and there she knew she was safe in Fenris’ arms. She murmured against his chest, “The future’s in the air regardless of what we do. I just hope we make it a better one than the past we leave behind.”

Chapter Text

Two months after the Kirkwall Rebellion as it had been called by those outside the city-state, much had changed. The Templars under Knight-Captain Cullen’s command had begun to work with the City-Guard to restore order. The Circle Mages remained within the Gallows, venturing out with a Templar escort to help where they could and only if welcomed. The devastation caused by Anders’ destruction of the Chantry had left noticeable scars all across the city. No quarter had been spared damage. Aveline’s guard was stretched to the limit simply trying to enforce order. The Templars did what they could to help but the city had no true leadership. No Viscount. Only Bran Cavin stood as a provincial leader for the troubled city. The Seneschal hated the position the chaos had put him but preformed his duties none the less.

The nobles of Kirkwall when not pointing fingers at each other or the Templars or the mages or the City-Guard had begun calling for the Champion of Kirkwall to lead them. To become Viscount, just as Sebastian had suggested. Hawke had been involved in the city’s politics almost from the beginning, albeit not by choice. But now? It would be her choice. But would it be the right one?

Daily visits from nobles, letters from people claiming to know her, demands for an audience with her at the Viscount’s Keep. That was Cora Hawke’s new reality as she attempted to help stabilize Kirkwall without assuming another title. That however was fast becoming undoable. How could fleeing from the Blight have led to this?

At a remote camp high up in the Vimmark Mountains, Cora sat on a bedroll as a fire crackled outside, the night pleasantly cool. Fenris had convinced her she was well within her rights to take a few days for herself. After everything that had occurred and the new demands being made upon her, she had had no time to truly process everything. She had resisted at first, citing numerous reason not to go. Fenris would not take no for an answer and had convinced their friends to aid in her escape for a few days. It hadn’t been the words or friends or the reasons Fenris had stated aloud that had finally made her acquiesce. It had been a simple handwritten note from Fenris.

She held the scrap piece of paper in her hand as she reread it for the hundredth time. His words were simple but genuine. Heartfelt and feelings he struggled with expressing aloud but the meaning was clear.

“Sometimes when I look at you, and you are looking back at me, I can see something. This small hint of something more, something you are feeling but cannot say. When our eyes meet, it is like we are instantly connected. And I know no one catches it but you and I. But I like it this way. It is like our own little secret. A place we go when everything around us is mad, and we just need some semblance of normal. Your eyes. They are beautiful. There are times when I want nothing more than to look into your beautiful eyes, because it is when we are looking at each other in silence that we end up saying the most.”

Cora glanced up from the note through the tent flap to see Fenris stoking the camp fire. His white hair falling into his eyes as he concentrated on his task. He was without armor at the moment, wearing a simple undershirt and the leggings he favored over traditional breeches. She would never complain about that decision. The clothes complimented him well. The lyrium markings, though strange to others, were a part of him, and one she had come to appreciate. They represented a part of his former life he had forgotten as well as a reminder of the trials he had been through. She had long since memorized the patterns and would never forget them. She would never forget him.

He had promised to always remain at her side. And now he had taken it upon himself to see to her wellbeing. He had not once said anything against her becoming Viscount should she decide to. Instead he had made sure she was aware of the increased danger that came with the position, not that he thought she wasn’t already aware. Viscount Dumar and his son’s death was evidence of that. Then again she was the Champion of Kirkwall and an accomplished warrior in her own right.

And then there was Fenris. While she would not count on him strictly for protection nor would she allow himself to be declared her bodyguard, she knew two things. He would always be on the lookout for danger anyway and that he would put his experience as Danarius’ bodyguard to use if she took the position. Whatever her decision, Fenris would stand beside her, sometimes silently, sometimes grumpily, sometimes with a smirk, sometimes with a warning glare. But always at her side.

She smiled as he glanced back her way. Mirroring her expression, he asked, “Are you still reading that?”

Hawke giggled. “Yes. It’s the first love letter I have gotten that meant anything.”

The Tevinter arched an eyebrow. “That was not what I would call a love letter.”

“Perhaps not. But the spirit of it is the same,” she noted as she moved to sit on her knees.

Fenris hesitated as she walked back to the tent. “Should—Should I write you more? As letters?”

Cora glanced up at him. His expression one of uncertainty. His reading had improved greatly since he had moved in with her. He had only begun writing his own thoughts down a couple of months ago. Would it be too much to ask? Softly, she ventured, “Only if you are comfortable with it. I—I truly appreciate this…It wouldn’t have to be a letter. This note is fine…”

“You appreciate it?” he asked as he knelt down in front of her.

She nodded as he cupped her cheek. “Is it why you agreed to come here?”

Hawke nodded again as he leaned towards her. “Then I will have to continue to write you these little notes, amatus.”

She grinned as he kissed her. Fenris closed the tent flap behind him as them laid on the bedroll. Everything else forgotten, only their need for one another remembered.

****

The next morning Cora laid against Fenris’ chest quite content not to move. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. He had not woken yet and she was fine with that. Finding peace merely being in his presence, she realized she would need that for the future when she announced her decision. If the people of Kirkwall believed she could best serve them as Viscount, she would do it. She would continue to defend the city that had adopted her for as long as she could.

No one else was interested in protecting those that needed help the most except for a handful. Those people were already doing what they could without the backing of the nobility or the demands of the public at large. Maybe naming her the Champion of Kirkwall had merely been a formality for Meredith, but it had led Hawke to so much more. She could use her title and status to help those that truly needed it. She could do that. She had been doing that since she could remember. Her father had taught her to look out for those who could not look out for themselves. Being Viscount even with the added danger and stress would be worth it.

Maybe after a couple of years another could step into her place. Right now Kirkwall needed someone who genuinely had their interests at heart…

Hawke traced the lyrium markings on Fenris’ chest as her thoughts drifted to her friends, her family, the people she had helped, and those she had lost. They were all pieces of her. Pieces that she had either gained or lost throughout her time in Kirkwall. But those pieces would remain with her one way or another. She would always have doubts, insecurities but she would always have her friends, her family of misfits, her sister, her Fenris. That was enough to get her through anything.

Her eyes drifted to an open journal next to the sleeping Tevinter elf. Carefully raising up she glanced at the open pages. It was filled with Fenris’ handwriting. Different paragraphs, phrases, verses. It looked as if he had circled some while scratching out others. She saw parts of the note he had given her before they had left for the mountains. Towards the bottom she saw another paragraph that had been circled several times.

“Now and then there is a light in the darkness

Feel around until you find where your heart went

There is a weight in the air, but you cannot see why, why

Didn't I tell you, you were going break down

Didn't I want you; everybody wants you

Tell me what you're needing, give into your bleeding

Never any feeling for yourself

We build it up, we tear it down

We leave our pieces on the ground

We see no end, we don't know how

We are lost and we're falling

Hold onto me

You're all I have, all I have”

She smiled. She knew she wasn’t supposed to have seen it yet. He must have worked on it last night after she had gone to sleep. Moving her fingers from his chest to trace the words on the page, she sighed. She felt loved. She knew he loved her but had yet to say it. To be fair, she hadn’t said it either. She hoped her actions reflected how she felt though.

“You weren’t to have read that, amatus,” Fenris’ gravely voice called from above her.

She looked up at him with a cheeky grin. “Then you shouldn’t have left it open.”

Olive green eyes reflected her mischief as he pulled her up to him. “Be that as it may, the words are true.”

“Fen.”

“I want you, Cora. Through everything that we have been through, you have always shown me the light in the darkness. I want to do that for you…now and always,” he murmured as he kissed her forehead.

Hawke kissed him tenderly. “You already do. Custodiet te, et ego semper.”

She watched him smile as she repeated the words he so often told her since they had finally acted on their feelings. Fenris shook his head. “I believe Nos tibi semper custodiet se would be a truer sentiment.”

Cora tilted her head, only knowing it was a variation of what she had just uttered. “We will always watch over each other.”

As he cupped her face, Hawke couldn’t help the wide grin that graced her features. She was happy. Despite the trials of her past and the troubled road that lay ahead she was happy. Not just because Fenris was with her but because she could choose her path and know that while she would make mistakes, she could always pick up the pieces and start again.

Afterall, every now and then there was a light in the darkness. You just had to be willing to open your eyes and look for it.