"Oh Maker."

Hawke wobbled on her feet, stumbling from the bed and across the room to the wardrobe. She nearly bumped into it, stopping just in time with a low groan. One arm curled about her stomach. She certainly didn't recall drinking last night, and yet all she felt like she could do in that moment was heavy every last ounce of her guts.

The bed rustled behind her and she turned her head, slowly, to watch as Sebastian sat up. The smile on his lips faded when his eyes focused on her. In a rush, he was at her side.

"Ashley? What happened?"

She curled her arm tighter about her midsection as a pitiful sound of discomfort escaped her lips. The concern in his voice was touching, but Hawke knew better. She knew what he was thinking. That she'd been out late, been drinking too much again. Yet no memory surfaced of such a thing happening. As it was, Hawke didn't even remember making it to bed. She remembered reading a letter from Varric, and then waking up moments ago in bed with the worst feeling in the world.

"I don't know," she croaked out.

Sebastian was frowning now, stepping away from her to call one of the house maids to send for a healer. When he turned back, he brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead and pressed a gentle kiss in its wake.

"I have a meeting," he started. "I… Hawke…"

Hawke looked up at him, she could see he didn't want to leave. The thought made her feel sicker. He had duties to attend to, none of which including sitting by her side while she whimpered like a child over her nausea.

"It's okay, Sebastian," she waved him off. "I'm a big girl, I can survive a bout of nausea until the healer gets here."

His brows pulled together. She could see he didn't believe her. Or perhaps it was distrust. Oh Maker, they'd grown so distant as of late. Running Starkhaven had become a bigger responsibility than either had imagined, leaving him little time away from his duties and her little patience to sit in an empty manor with nothing but overly polite maids to keep her company.

It took some convincing, but when he finally departed, Hawke shuffled back to the bed. Curling up in a ball of pathetic, she grunted, groaned, and whimpered over her state until the healer arrived. The healer, an older woman - and clearly a mage - came soon enough. And pieces, slowly but surely fell into place. When the healer confirmed it could be little else, Hawke panicked. Her heart raced, thundering against her chest and her magic sparking to life. She hurriedly dismissed the older woman, all but slamming the door shut behind her as she tried to quiet her anxiety attack.

Hawke sat on the bed, knees pulled up tight to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs, when Sebastian returned. He wasted no time in coming to her side, seating himself carefully beside her and wrapping one arm around her shoulder to pull her against his chest.

With a deep, rattled breath, Hawke moved and inhaled the soothing and comforting scent of her husband. Only when her breathing evened out did she tip her head up to look him in the eye.

"Sebastian? I… I'm pregnant."