Author's Note: All characters and backstory belongs to Bioware.
Chapter One
She had kept a hurried pace throughout the night, claiming she was trying to put as much distance between Kirkwall and her small group of companions. She had told them she wished to avoid further confrontation with any of the final remaining supporters of Knight-Commander Meredith. Her companions were well aware of the fact that it was a flimsy excuse from the woman known as The Champion of Kirkwall. Her twin daggers would make quick work of any one who opposed them. If the group pressed on it meant there would be no time for talking and no need for her to face the reality of the events that had brought them all to this very moment.
Marian Hawke should have learned long ago that opening her heart and allowing herself to love would only lead to pain. She had lost so much over the years. First her father, an apostate mage who had fled the Circle of Magi for an attempt at a normal life, had been stripped from her life by a Templar when she was practically still a child. Next her brother had fallen during their flight to Kirkwall from Lothering during the Blight. Just a few short years ago her mother had joined her father and brother after falling into the hands of a madman. She had failed to save them all.
The sound of someone stumbling behind her pulled her from her dark thoughts and she finally stopped, turning to survey her companions. Varric, who was perhaps her dearest and most dependable friend, was helping Merrill back to her feet. She frowned at the scene, mostly because she was suddenly keenly aware of the fatigue settling into her own body. The dwarf's eyes met hers once the petite elf was on her feet once more. She opened her mouth to urge them on but Varric spoke first.
"I think we've put enough distance between us and Kirkwall, Hawke," he began. "We need to stop to rest."
She looked over the rest of the group. All of them were highly trained and skilled fighters and able to withstand less than ideal travel conditions. She knew Varric was right though. Between the injuries received during the battle in the Gallows and the frantic pace she had kept, they had to stop. Her own side throbbed from the injury she had received from one of the huge statues that had come to life. She had bound the wound but eventually she would need a healer.
A healer. Her eyes fell on the member of her group she had been avoiding since they left the Gallows courtyard. The tall, blond haired mage looked back at her, uncertainty clearly written on his handsome features. She had failed to save him too. She had failed to save him from himself.
"Fine," She said after a moment, turning her attention back to Varric. "We'll make camp for the night off the road. No fires. I'll take the first watch."
Without another word she stomped off into the brush that lined the road. It was tall enough that they would be able to remain hidden; giving them a distinct advantage should anyone else be on the road this late into the night. She highly doubted they were being pursued but Hawke had never been much for unnecessary risks despite the dangerous nature of many of her past missions.
She set out a bedroll, thankful they had managed to sneak into her Hightown estate before fleeing the city. At least they would have some basic supplies to get them started while she figured out where they would go. No matter where they ended up they would be hunted, of that much she was certain. They were fugitives. They had helped give the brewing rebellion in the Circle of Magi the shove it needed to turn violent, whether she had meant to or not. Certainly the rebellion would spread and that meant safety would be difficult to find.
Lowering herself down onto her bedroll she grimaced as her side burned. The last thing she had wanted to do was admit to the seriousness of the injury. A bit of healing salve and some bandages had been all she allowed while hurrying through her former home. It had worked to keep her moving, but now without the distraction of travel she had nothing to focus on except the pain.
"You should let me tend to your side now that we've stopped," a familiar voice said softly a short distance to her right.
A sigh escaped Hawke's lips as looked over at the mage. In the past three years Anders had become so much more than a friend. He was her lover, her confidant, and her partner in all things. Now though she questioned if the sentiment was truly returned. What he had done in Kirkwall, the destruction of the Chantry, was a despicable act. He had acted completely alone, without turning to the person he claimed to trust above all others and she couldn't help resenting the fact he had not come to her with the truth.
She had made a promise to him that she was confident he wouldn't hurt her or drive her away. Now she was desperately trying to hold up her end of the deal. He had stayed after all. He had fought with her to stop Knight-Commander Meredith and help the Circle. He had stayed to try to seek some sort of redemption because of the love they shared. Glancing down at the corner of her bedroll, suddenly finding it very interesting, she gave a small nod and consented to his assistance and healing.
He set out a bedroll next to hers, lowering himself to the ground next to her as she began loosening the straps of her leather armor. He helped her remove the amour without further comment, setting it aside while she laid down to allow him better access to her injured side. Lifting the thin material of her undershirt, his fingers gently removed the bandages she had hastily applied.
Anders worked silently and Hawke felt the familiar tingling warmth she always associated with his healing abilities. She had come to him with worse injuries then this, but he took his time healing her as if her very life hung in the balance. It was almost as if he were trying twice as hard to ensure she was on the mend out of guilt. None of this would have happened if Anders had chosen a different path. After all these years Hawke knew him well enough to guess what thoughts might be going through his mind.
The feel of his magic retreated slowly and he gently pulled her top back down over her side. He sat back on his own bedroll, his eyes no longer focused on her. Instead Anders was focused on the road which was barely visible in the darkness. Hawke pulled herself up to a seated position and reached out for her armor once more.
"I know you said you would take the first watch," Anders said softly, still not looking at her, "but you really need to rest to ensure you're strong enough by the morning to keep the same pace as today. I'll keep watch. I doubt I will be able to sleep anyhow."
It would certainly be the easiest solution in theory. If she were to sleep during his watch and him during hers they could further put off trying to figure out where their relationship would really lead. Hawke was determined to stand by him, but trust needed to be rebuilt. Not only her trust in him had been broken though and it would be a difficult task to piece their group back together.
"I'm not sure I'll really be able to sleep just yet myself," she admitted, buckling her armor again.
Anders opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when Fenris suddenly spoke up, his cool voice carrying easily across the small campsite, "I for one would also rather not leave my safety in your hands, mage."
A sigh escaped Hawke's lips as she stood. So it began.
"If it were up to me and not your lover, I would have ended your miserable existence outside the Chantry," the elf continued. "You should have been treated to the same fate as any other abomination."
"That will be quite enough Fenris," Hawke said quickly, the briefest flash of blue from Anders' skin not lost on her. The last thing she needed or wanted right now was an encounter with the spirit he harbored inside of him. "I will take the first watch with Anders. End of discussion."
The elf's eyes narrowed slight as he retorted, "At a certain point, Hawke, we will all have to deal with the reality of what happened. Including you."
She ran a hand over her face, trying to breath so as to keep her anger in check. Everything had been so intense and she felt as if she might explode at any moment. It was taking all her strength to remain calm and she let out a long slow breath as she dropped her hand back to her side.
"Fenris, I would simply like for everyone to reach Ostwick in one piece," she said calmly. "Once we're there I will arrange for transportation out of the Free Marches. When we're safely somewhere else where we're less...infamous we can revisit having some long drawn out conversation about what happened. Is that good enough for you?"
She thought she heard a snort of disapproval from the elf, but he sank down onto a bedroll without further comment. The others had busied themselves with other tasks. Those who were injured at least had enough sense to allow Anders to tend to their wounds and one by one the group started to try to settle in to get what rest they could.
Opening her pack, Hawke began taking stock of the supplies she had managed to gather at the house. There was some food and a few potions. Her stock of grenades had virtually been depleted at the Gallows. She had a little gold that she had stashed away at the house, but they would need to find work soon if there was any hope of them truly escaping. They would also need to consider disguising their feature a bit. Her vibrant Auburn hair would certainly give her away nearly anywhere she was traveled.
"Donnic and I will take the second watch," a feminine voice said, drawing her attention away from the supplies. She managed to give Aveline a small smile as the other woman knelt down beside her. "I want you to know that you have my support, Hawke, no matter what happens from here."
"Thank you, Aveline," Hawke responded softly. "I've gotten you into situations you never should have been asked to be in given your position as the Captain of the Guard, and I appreciate you sticking by me."
The other woman gave a small nod and the faintest whisper of a smile before getting up again and making her way back over to her husband. Through it all the other woman had always been there when Hawke needed someone to have her back...even when the jobs weren't entirely legal. It was a debt Hawke wondered if she could ever repay.
The rest of the group settled in for what would surely be a long night. Varric, Fenris, Merrill, Aveline, and Donnic had followed Hawke out of the city without question. She had wondered for a moment if Fenris would stand with her in the end. He had left her side for a time, not wanting to side with the Circle, but his time as a slave had made him see reason. She had only wished her sister, Bethany, had come with them. She would likely spend the rest of her days wondering whether her sister and the other mages from the Circle were safe.
When Anders returned to her side she didn't look over at him. She knew she could only continue avoiding him for so long and she was out of items to organize and pick through. He was well aware of that fact as well, and eventually, when it seemed all the others had dozed off, he reached out a tentative hand to brush a few stray strands of Auburn hair behind her ear.
"Anders," she said in a whisper, "I...I'm not entirely sure what to say or do right now. I love you...I do. I meant what I said about staying with you, but it's going to take time to truly move past today. I need to learn to trust you again."
"And even then things may not ever be the same between us," he said, and she could see the frown cross his handsome features in the moonlight. "I'm not sorry for what I did. I will always feel that it was necessary. I just wish I could have spared you the pain."
"This really isn't the time or place to do this," she said softly, pushing down the anger that made her chest feel as if it were constricting under a massive weight. "I will tell you the same thing I told Fenris, when we're all safe, then we'll talk."
"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I just detest feeling like I can't fix this with you."
Hawke didn't respond. He had said it so softly that she let him assume she had not heard him and they lapsed into an uneasy silence. This was not the way things were supposed to turn out. A war had been brewing between the Templars and the mages, and the resentment of the Chantry was widespread. Now, though, things would never be the same. Still, in her mind she clung to one of the last things he had said to her that had made her choose to honor her commitment to him.
I wish I had no loyalties greater than you, that's the freedom I'm fighting for. Ten years, one hundred years from now, someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no templars to tear them apart.
If someone like him had stood up for the mages years ago the Chantry perhaps her father would have been allowed to love her mother freely. Perhaps the Amells would have accepted him as a suitable match for Leandra and she would not have been forced to flee to Fereldan. Most important of all, perhaps her father would still be alive and the Templar who took his life would have had no cause to do so.
If someone like Anders had fought for freedom years ago then they wouldn't be in this situation now. There would be no war, no Templars to hide from, and they could simply live their life. Perhaps, if they both survived this, there might be a chance that when the dust settled that they could slip into obscurity.
The night air was growing cold and she couldn't help shivering. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but the ache in her muscles told her she had been sitting for quite a while. The thin blanket from her bedroll was simply not thick enough to keep out the cold and they couldn't risk a fire. Glancing over at Anders, she saw him leaning against a nearby tree, obviously lost in thought. Before she could talk herself out of it, Hawke stood, collecting her blanket and moved over to where he had settled. Her movement was enough to draw him from her thoughts and his eyes found hers.
"Will you hold me?" She asked softly and she swore she saw him exhale a breath he had likely been holding since she stood. "It's freezing..and...I..."
"Always, " he said, cutting off her rambling before she could go any further.
His arms opened and she dropped down in front of him, her back pressing against his chest. Warmth instantly settled over her, the warmth of home. No matter what, his arms would always be her home.