Margaret Hawke looked dumbly out at the burning city of Kirkwall. Words were inadequate to describe the destruction she had witnessed- the battle for the city had seemed endless, wreathed in flames whose touch still lingered at the ends of her singed fingers and hair. Beside her stood Anders, breathing deeply, and inscrutable in the darkness.

'We can't linger here,' Margaret said at last. 'We need to leave, and soon.'

Anders shuddered. 'The Templars will be coming for us now.'

She nodded. 'And we have a duty to finish what we started.'

The others were waiting for them a few miles away, milling around Varric's campfire. They were all silent, even Isabela, and only looked on as the two mages approached. Without speaking Varric passed Margaret a bowl of stew with a roughly hewn wooden spoon sticking out from the top. She took it gratefully before sitting down beside him on the ground. When she was finished she stood up, and twirling the spoon in her fingers, turned to face the others.

'What we have done tonight,' she began, locking eyes with each of them in turn, 'was immense. We have proven to the world that tyranny will no longer be allowed to continue. We have shown them that a Templar can no longer beat a mage to the ground and expect to walk away, that they cannot feed off the fear they install within us. We are free men and women and we will fight!'

Margaret paused and took a deep breath to steady herself. 'But I don't expect you all to die for a cause that isn't your own.' Fenris shifted uneasily at this, his green eyes troubled in the flickering light from the fire. 'I won't ask you to. But Anders and I are both going on and what we aim to achieve will not be easy- it will be full of blood and trial. If you want to leave, I suggest you do so now and get ahead of the Templars, because after tonight they will be looking for you and the last thing I want is to see any of you fall into their hands.'

No one responded for a moment and then Varric stood up, rolling his shoulders and hoisting Bianca over his back. 'You know me, Hawke. I can't resist a challenge- and how's Blondie gonna have fun without me?'

For the first time in days a smile broke over Anders' features. 'I'm travelling with Hawke, Varric. Do you really want to know?'

'Uh, now that I think about it- not really.' Varric chuckled and looked up at Margaret. 'I'm with you Hawke. I don't have anywhere else to go anyway.'

Merril, who had been leaning on a tree a few feet away suddenly perked up and said, 'Neither do I. You're my best friend and I won't abandon you to fight the Templars alone. You gave me a new life when I lost my clan, lethallin, and there's no going back.'

Fenris stepped forward and buried his sword point first in the ground, folding his hands over the pommel- a snarling demon. 'I thought you in the wrong when we first met,' he said slowly and deliberately, looking Margaret in the eye, 'but after what I have seen, after the madness of that woman and what it produced, I can't stand by. I may not always agree with you, Hawke, but I cannot go back to my old way of thinking either. You helped me kill Danarius- you helped me to free myself. If I stand by and let this war go on without doing anything then I am only what I was before. I'm with you to the end. Whatever that means,' he finished darkly, pulling his sword free.

There were only two people left- Aveline and Isabela. Margaret turned to them, her heart beating furiously in her chest. Aveline sighed and shook her head. 'Don't look at me like that. I stood with you before. I'm not backing down now.'

Isabela raised her eyebrows and twirled one of her daggers in her hand before dropping it back in its sheath. 'What can I say?' she purred. 'You've made a revolutionary out of me.'

Hawke smiled and looked around at her friends, all of them exhausted and bloody, but more determined than she had ever seen them. 'You don't know what this means to me,' she said softly, 'I never thought you would all stay- yet here you are.'

She coughed and turned to face Anders, the moisture bright in her eyes. 'We have a revolution to lead.'

The next day they gathered their things. Everyone was slow and stiff, but nobody complained. 'So, where do we go first?' Varric asked, falling in beside Margaret as they set off.

'We need supplies- but I don't know much about the Free Marches. Kirkwall's the only city I've seen here.'

'There's a town a few miles east,' said Isabela, stretching sensuously and yawning. 'I don't remember what it's called, but I do remember it had the best mutton in the world. If you all go in and stock up I promise you won't be disappointed.'

'Why can't you go, Isabela?' asked Merril. 'Didn't you make any friends?'

Isabela laughed. 'No, kitten, I didn't. Let's just leave it at that.'

Margaret's mouth began watering at the mention of mutton and her stomach suddenly rumbled mutinously. 'Alright, I think that's our destination,' she said, strapping on her staff. 'I don't think we should all go in though. It might draw attention .'

'I'll go-' began Anders, but Aveline interrupted him.

'I will,' she said firmly, glaring at the mage. 'Nobody knows who I am. It's better that way.'

Anders nodded. 'I guess you're right.'

'I know I am,' replied Aveline.

They continued walking and Margaret slowed down to fall into step with the former guard captain. 'Do you know what happened to Donnic?' she asked quietly.

'Yes,'Aveline replied, 'I spoke to him before we left. He's staying in Kirkwall to restore order as best he can, and to protect the civilians. He's a good man.'

'Did you ask him to come with us?'

Aveline shook her head. 'No. I couldn't. This isn't his fight- but I'll see him again. One day soon, I hope.' She turned and glared at Hawke. 'So you better win. I want to be able to go home to my husband when this is all over.'

Margaret laughed and clicked her fingers, summoning a small tongue of flame. 'Trust me Aveline- I don't intend to do otherwise.'

They made camp a few hours later.

'Alright, I'll go in and see what I can find,' said Aveline, preparing to leave.

Varric moved to follow her and said, 'Uh, Red? Don't you think storming in there with your armour and your sword, scaring the shit out of everyone, is a little bit conspicuous?'

'I don't know,' said Anders cheerfully, 'I rather like the idea of a few Templars finding us- it means we get to teach them a lesson.'

Margaret looked over at him and sighed. He had been elated and exuberant all day, his good humour restored after their victory in Kirkwall. The trouble was, she was afraid he meant the things he said, and that when his mood swung again (which it inevitably would) he would act on them. 'I think they've learned enough for now,' she said with a note of finality that Anders seemed not to notice. 'Leave your sword and armour here, Aveline. Take one of Isabela's daggers. Hide it in your boot.'

Isabela passed her blade and muttered, 'Be nice to it, okay? This one's my favourite. I take it to bed with me.'

Aveline sneered. 'I'd feel better with a sword, but okay. I understand.' She slipped the dagger into her boot and quickly unbuckled her armour.

'My, my, big girl,' Isabela mused, looking on, 'you are good at that. Did you have to practice with Donnic? I don't imagine there's much time to do the dirty at the barracks.'

'Shut up.' Aveline finished and took a few coins from Margaret's pouch. 'I'll be back soon.'

As soon as she left Margaret turned around and saw Anders was already frowning, lost in one of his dour moods again. Isabela, Varric and Merril had all settled down to play cards and politely deigned not to notice as Margaret took his hand and pulled him away.

When they were alone Anders pulled himself away from her and slumped against a tree stump. 'I'm a monster,' he said venomously, staring at his hands. 'How many people did I murder last night? And now I'm making jokes.'

Margaret stepped forward and placed her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. 'You did what you had to do,' she murmured. 'When you said it I believed you, and I still do- there can be no compromises. There never would have been anyway, not with Meredith in charge. Thanks to you all mages in Thedas have a chance to be free. Don't give in to despair, Anders. Promise me.'

He raised his hands to hers. 'What did I do to deserve you?'

Margaret ignored him. 'Promise me,' she repeated, more firmly than before.

'I promise.'

She smiled then and sighed with relief, tipping her forehead to touch his. 'I can't believe this is really happening.'

'I don't know if it's a dream or a nightmare,' Anders replied grimly.

'If it was a nightmare,' said Margaret with a sudden chuckle, 'would I do this?' And she leant down, kissing him softly just below each ear.

For a moment Anders was stiff and unresponsive, then suddenly his mood shifted suddenly and whispered, 'definitely not,' before pulling Margaret tom him with a shuddering breath and wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling her mouth to his in a fierce, heated kiss. 'I missed you,' he murmured when they broke apart to breathe, reaching down to pull up her robe. 'After that day when I asked you to speak to the Grand Cleric, I felt like I was poisoning you whenever we touched-'

'It doesn't matter now.' Margaret hissed with pleasure, a sound that sent shivers up Anders' spine. She gasped and kissed him, running her fingers through his hair and across his back, leaving tingles of magic behind.

Anders turned and they both fell to the ground, entangled with each other.

An hour later, still not having returned to the others, Margaret was sleepily tracing idle patterns across Anders' chest, feeling something very close to contentment. 'There's something I wanted to tell you earlier,' she whispered, and then, grinning, continued, 'but something distracted me.'

'What was it?' Anders asked, stretching like a cat.

Margaret hesitated before continuing, suddenly nervous. 'I'm pregnant,' she said softly. 'I found out a week ago. I'm pregnant, Anders.'

There was a beat of silence. Anders sat up suddenly and turned to look down at her. 'You're…pregnant?' His mouth hung open and he looked at Margaret as if he could not believe his eyes. 'You're sure?'

Margaret bit her lip and nodded, feeling a little like she might throw up.

'That's…' He stared for a moment longer until an ecstatic grin broke out over his face. 'That's wonderful!' He laughed and pulled Margaret up by the waist and into his lap, kissing her repeatedly. 'We're going to have a child. A child! Ha!' Anders laughed again. 'Before I was unsure, I was even starting to doubt the cause, but it's so clear now! We're not just fighting for ourselves,' he said between kisses, 'we're fighting for our children. Our child.'

He pressed a hand to Margaret's stomach. 'We're going to win.'