AU- Seamus and Anders and Orsino and Viscount Dumar survive. Bodhan and Sandal stay in Kirkwall. Dalish Warden.
Hawke strolled happily along the Wounded Coast, thinking to herself. For once, she was on her own, completely unguarded, and enthralled in her own mind. She rested upon a large rock, facing the shipwreck overlooking the Viscount's Keep. She sighed, happily. Her life had gotten slightly better once she'd become Champion and battled Meredith.
Carver had come home from the Grey Wardens, albeit not forever, but at least the estate wasn't as lonely as it had been previously.
Isabela had gotten her ship, and although Hawke had paid for half of it, it was worth it to see one of her best friend's smiles alight.
Merrill had seemed to settle into the alienage more and treated Orana as a friend, rather than 'just another elf'.
Anders was back in his clinic, but this time it was him being treated for wounds. He'd gotten badly injured during the mage/Templar war, leaving him almost paralyzed. Luckily, Hawke and Merrill stepped in, assisting the healers in any way they could.
Aveline was happily married to Guardsman Donnic and according to Varric's sources- and his sources are always good- there might be a little Vallen running around the barracks soon.
Fenris had disappeared since the war, only muttering things about going back to Tevinter… That worried Hawke. However, Isabela did mention receiving a letter from Fenris, but she couldn't tell her what was said. Something dirty probably.
Varric was still staying in the Hanged Man, despite numerous attempts for him to move in the Amell Estate. And as always, the bard-like dwarf was spinning stories of Hawke's tales; how she defeated the Arishock single headedly, "deflowering" the Deep Roads, and delving into the Fade were but a few of his favourites.
She sighed again, with a sadder tone. She missed her mother. How could that sick bastard do that to such an innocent woman? She'd done nothing but good for the Hawke family in her life as a mother; her only crime was loving Malcolm. All she'd wanted since she'd had her children was to make sure than Marian and Bethany were away from the Templar's gaze. Leandra would be so proud of Hawke, how she'd moved on and progressed.
She'd be thrilled with Aveline, married and possibly pregnant! She'd secretly loved Isabela, looking after all her friends; she may have a promiscuous past, but she was kind hearted. And she'd loved the Orana had fitted in with their group, being taken under the wing by the one girl that probably needed it the most herself.
Hawke sighed, picking a flower and inhaling its beautiful scent. She missed Bethany dearly. How she'd cried for years, wishing that it was her instead of her sister. Her sister; so rare, so pure, so elegant, so new- fresh for the world. She was a smart girl, Bethany, and Hawke knew that she didn't attack the ogre on a whim; she had a high chance of winning. Hawke smiled. She'd lost almost all of her family, with Gamlen and Charade taking a ship back to Ferelden to start anew.
But her life wasn't all that bad, luckily all of her companions had survived the two wars of Kirkwall, and a certain Viscount's son took a shine to her. Marian walked slowly down a slope, before being stopped in her tracks. In front of the path she wished to walk down, there were a group of five or six slavers. "Shit." She whispered. They were, quite obviously, slavers; they wore a black mask and silver-iron armour, most had a long sword, and a large, rectangular, iron shield with notches on.
She was defenceless. She'd foolishly left her staff at home, feeding Carver the obvious lie that she was only going to the market. She didn't always want to be Hawke- Champion of Kirkwall, the girl that stole Seamus' heart, the girl who turned down Viscount- she still wanted to be Marian Amell, lady of leisure, married and giving her mother kids that she could never hold. She didn't even don her usual robes, she'd put on a simple silk blouse, and plain trousers. She didn't expect to be ambushed!
She panicked as the first two slavers advanced on her. She picked up a nearby rock, about the size of a child's fist, and lobbed it at the slaver on the right. It hit, and knocked him clean out. She screamed. For once, she wasn't being brave, she was being realistic. If she didn't get help soon, she'd be pulverised.
She kept screaming. She'd managed to finish off the first two, but she hadn't brought any lyrium potions with her, and her mana was already running low. She felt two hands on her shoulder, turning her around to face an oversized rock. She saw a flash of blue and the clunk of swords on the sand. "A-Anders?" Hawke stuttered, still facing the rock. The footsteps reached closer to her, until she felt the blue glow die down, and a hand on her shoulder once again.
"Not even close, my dear Hawke." It was Fenris, not Anders, or Isabela, or Varric, or even Aveline, it was Fenris, her Fenris, her best friend. She gasped, and stood up to face him. He was smiling brightly, she'd missed that smile. It was almost a year since she'd seen him, and she felt tears welling up as she wrung her hands. His markings had stopped glowing, but Hawke could plainly see that he was in pain. "Thank you." She finally managed. "You saved my life." Fenris smiled a softer smile, and took one of her hands into his, just rubbing over the back of her hand, calming her down. "I know." Hawke sniffled as he spoke, turning to walk back to Kirkwall, and to the Hanged Man for a stiff drink.