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Freedom. Something that always seemed so nebulous and out of reach for most of Hawke's life. She may have been free from the clutches of the Chantry, protected by her family for the first twenty-odd years of her life, but she was never free from the responsibilities and hardships life had put on her. Being the older sibling with a dead father and a grieving mother who couldn't always be there for them made Hawke grow up a lot faster than she felt she should have. Being born a mage in a world that feared and imprisoned mages for just existing had Hawke always looking over one shoulder, always making sure to cast that healing spell in a dark, hidden room with bolted doors and limited witnesses lest Templars discover her.
Life following the flee from Lothering came with its own set of trials and tribulations. Her sister's death at the hands of an ogre at the beginning of her family's journey weighed heavy on her. But she had no time to grieve properly. She had to make money (in whatever way possible, savory or unsavory) to get by and provide a home for her family in her mother's home city of Kirkwall, all while avoiding the even more prominent presence of the Templars in the city with the shadow of the looming threat of the Gallows always in the background.
The years that followed in the hellish place were neither any kinder nor easier for her. The city was full of suffering, determined to drag her and her family and friends down with it. Her brother was alive but consigned to eventually becoming a ghoul and making one final journey to the Deep Roads to kill as many Darkspawn as he could before dying. Her bright light in Kirkwall, Anders, the one whose side she always stood by and toiled away with trying to heal and rescue as many people as they could, she could see him becoming more withdrawn and his guilt at not being able to do more increasing the longer they stayed in the forsaken city. Her mother, the one who blamed her for her sister's death but still loved her and cared for her well-being, joined her sister and father in the next world, hopefully finding the peace she'd been missing ever since their father died. Varric, the friend who always seemed to find a reason to go on, a witty comment to say, and another grand adventure to write, found himself with more sighs on his lips and a hunch in his shoulders that came not from many hours of writing but many hours of worrying for his city and his friends. Then there was herself. Oh, how much she had been through the long years in Kirkwall. Her smiles became few and far between, and frown lines soon began to take their place. Her body ached more, and scars from her numerous battles riddled her body and her mind, the physical and emotional toil building up every year spent there.
Then the explosion that rocked the foundations of Kirkwall and helped kickstart a change that Thedas desperately needed to happen was caused by none other than her long-time partner and lover, Anders, who she had unknowingly but willingly aided. It broke her heart to hear that Anders didn't even believe she'd let him live, much less support him and his cause and run away with him. It was clear he was struggling, and she wanted to help him, show him he was not alone, and she would do all she could to help him. She knew that once they'd found some place to rest for a while and a moment to themselves, they would definitely need to have a conversation about communicating with one another and addressing each other's insecurities and fears.
She recalls that particular conversation vividly. It was about three months after their escape from Kirkwall, in a little backwater village in the Free Marches that was known for harboring other escaped mages. They were resting by the crackling hearth, and Anders had one of those infamous wistful looks on his face as he tightly gripped one of Hawke's hands in his own. She'd gently called his name, and it took a moment for him to look back at her as if he'd known what she would say beforehand. She'd broached the subject carefully and with tenderness, knowing he'd need a gentle approach or he might shut down on her. It had been full of heartfelt tears, strong embraces, and many reassurances from both parties, and their relationship was stronger than ever afterward.
However, people are complicated, and both Hawke and Anders had endured more than their fair share of trauma and loss. It led to days where one or the other couldn't sleep because of the nightmares that plagued them, or their wounds would remind them of their pain and all the people they'd lost. With all things considered, that conversation was not the last candid one they had over the years afterward. Some involved tears, some involved distance, and others involved communicating issues, often brought on by unresolved issues or trauma from their pasts. But every fight and every conversation only brought them closer together, not further apart.
One such bad day led Hawke to sit outside, staring at the stars, contemplating life, and desperately trying not to cry while looking at the memorial in front of her and falling deeper into sorrow. Her night had been plagued with nightmares, and when she woke up with a start and noticed the chair beside her side of the bed shattered, she decided to forgo sleep and take a walk through the village. Anders had been there beside her, tried to comfort her when she awoke, but she shrugged him off and told him not to worry, that she'd be back soon. He'd given her that little frown he'd always use when he was concerned, which almost convinced her to stay. However, her body was restless, and she didn't want to disturb him more than she already had. Maker knows he needed all the sleep he could get, with his own nightmares and occasional insomnia to deal with.
She'd been wondering aimlessly, her mind cloudy, until she'd happened upon the largest tree in the center of town: a luscious, tall oak with the name Memoria. It looked like a typical tree from a distance, but as one got closer, one could see a faint glow coming from the tree's center. A simple lantern sat inside its trunk with a bright magefire flame flickering inside it. The words 'FOR ALL WHOSE FLAME BURNS NO MORE' was inscribed beneath it in careful script. It was something all the mages in town had worked on, with a bit of help from Merrill and her Keeper magic. It was made to remember and honor all of their comrades and loved ones who couldn't join them here, in freedom and in peace. Today, it only served to make Hawke's heart hurt more.
"It's the anniversary today, isn't it, my love?"
A rueful smile stretches Hawke's lips as she feels the warm embrace of her favorite person wrap around her like a soft blanket.
"She would've loved it here, I imagine," Hawke said after a short moment of silence, a silent tear trickling down her cheek.
"I think he would've liked it here, too," Anders replied, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek, kissing the tear away.
They stood there in each other's arms for a few more quiet moments, thinking about Bethany's laugh and Karl's smile. They both dwelled within their own memories of loved ones, no longer there to share in their happiness or sorrow but always in their hearts.
Then Anders said gently, "Remember all those years ago, when we had our first real heart-to-heart, Hawke?"
She hummed in response, knowing exactly where he was going with this. "We made a promise to never keep things from each other and never to be afraid to rely on one another."
"I know you don't want to bother me, my love, and I know it comes from a place of love, but when it comes to you, I want you to know that you can always "bother" me and come to me when you need a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. You're worth every sleepless night and every wound on my body, and I know you feel the same."
More tears escaped from her glistening umber eyes as she turned her head to finally meet his gaze, only this time, they were tears of happiness. "I don't think I could ever love someone as much as I love you right now, my mage in shining armor."
Anders let out a little laugh at that, leaning in to give Hawke a brief but tender kiss on her lips.
"And that love is returned tenfold, my brave and lovely Champion."
The next morning, Hawke was awoken not by emotionally exhausting nightmares but by the melodic humming of her lover from outside their cozy home.
She lazily stretched her arms above her head, red hair all in disarray, before plopping out of bed and donning her favorite slippers. Then she plodded over to the front door and opened it up, taking a deep breath of fresh air as she closed her eyes and stood in the entryway for a moment.
The bright sunshine warmed up her bones and reminded her of a day long ago, spent practicing their spells (quite awfully, if she recalled) with more than a fair bit of giggling and silliness involved while their father was desperately trying not to laugh along with them but failing miserably. However, instead of bringing tears this time, it brought her a smile that rivaled the sunshine shining down on her.
Before her attention could turn back to Anders, who was currently getting his fingers dirty in the garden, planting some more elfroot seeds, she heard the booming and familiar sound of Pupcake barking as he raced down the street, chasing the town's children. While this was not an unusual occurrence by any means, what made her break out laughing and wheezing was the sight of Ser Pounce-a-lot sitting on the mabari's back, looking way too much like a noble knight riding his shining steed into battle with an almost smug look on his face.
The laugh caught Ander's attention, who soon started laughing with her as he saw Pupcake gallop away with his cat on their back.
"It's nice to see them getting along so well!" Hawke spoke after she'd recovered from her laughing fit.
"That's one way of putting it. I'd say they've become accomplices now."
Before Hawke could reply, they saw a young elven woman running full speed in the opposite direction of Pupcake and the children while another young human woman came running in the direction of Pupcake. They could see the disaster about to ensue, but neither could intervene before the two women crashed headlong into each other, sending each other sprawling onto the dirt path.
A round of apologies spilled from their lips until they met each other's gazes. Silence passed between them before a broken laugh came from the elven woman, and she put a delicate hand on the human's cheek.
"Carlina? Is it you? I thought you were dead. When the Circle collapsed, I couldn't find you. Yet here you are."
A single tear escaped Carlina's eye, and she said, "How's about we give that relationship we always wanted a try, Inaean? There's nothing that can stop us now, no Templars, no Chantry, and no Circle."
"You don't waste any time, do you, Carli?" Inaean questioned with another laugh, caressing the other's cheek.
"We've got no time to waste."
Before the elf could answer, the human captured her lips in a fierce kiss.
Anders took Hawke's hand in his own and squeezed it at the display in front of them. The happy reunion reminded her of the thoughts she had dwelled on yesterday and the words Anders spoke to her all those years ago in Kirkwall.
"Ten years from now… A hundred years from now… Someone like me will love someone like you—and there will be no Templars to tear them apart."
Freedom. Something that had always been out of reach for her, for Anders, and many mages all across Thedas. Freedom from pain, freedom to live without the Templars breathing down their necks, waiting for them to make a mistake, seemed to be a pipe dream. But because of their efforts and the efforts of others who fought for the rights of mages, they could all now find peace, find love, and find ataraxia.