The walk back from the Wounded Coast seemed longer than usual. Anders had an emergency in his clinic that morning and couldn't go with them to search for the Viscount's son, so Hawke had asked Fenris, Varric, and Aveline to join her. If rescuing Seamus had been the only thing they needed to deal with, it would have been fine. Unfortunately, there were still several groups of Tal-Vashoth wandering the area and since her band had destroyed their main camp, the Qunari outcasts were not happy to see her. Then, of course, the "Winters" seemed to have hired every available mercenary in the Free Marches to kill one Qunari. Hawke's energy had dropped quickly as she cast one spell after another to keep her companions from being surrounded by several waves of attackers. It had definitely taken a toll on her. She could have downed one of the few lyrium potions in her bag, but she tried not to use them unless it was a real emergency. She cringed every time she had to pay the ridiculously high prices that the merchants in Kirkwall charged. Her parents had taught her how to do the most with limited resources, and those valuable lessons were helping her raise the funds for the Deep Roads expedition faster than even Varric realized.

As soon as they reached the edge of Kirkwall, Varric had split off from their group, no doubt heading for the Hanged Man to begin his usual evening ritual of drinking ale, telling stories and cheating at cards. The sun had already set by the time Hawke escorted Seamus into his father's office. She was so tired, the patience which normally made her so diplomatic seemed to disappear. Hawke didn't wait to hear the argument that started immediately between the pair. She simply walked out to collect her reward from the seneschal with a muttered comment that their conversation was personal. As Hawke headed down the stairs to the main entry room, the only person waiting for her was Fenris. At her questioning look, he responded.

"Aveline has retired to the barracks."

Too tired to even speak, Hawke simply nodded and they fell in step as they exited the Keep. She paused at the top of the long stairway that led down to the rest of Hightown and a deep sigh escaped her lips.

This time it was Fenris who shot her the questioning glance, and she felt compelled to explain.

"It's just... the thought of going back to Gamlen's tonight and listening to Carver complain because I didn't ask him to join us, while Mother worries about me being killed like Bethany... I just wish my family could understand that I don't enjoy fighting, I just don't seem to have many other options these days if I want to protect them and provide them a real home." She sighed again and then seemed to realize who she was talking to. "I'm sorry, Fenris. I have no right to complain, least of all to you."

Fenris was surprised at Hawke's comments. He had never heard her complain about her family or, really, anything else for that matter. She always seemed ready and able to take on new challenges, even when they were not her responsibility. She helped so many people in Kirkwall and he knew that no matter how badly she needed the money for Bartrand's expedition, she sometimes refused to take coin from the refugees who sought her aid. He thought back to the night they had met and her readiness to help a lowly slave she didn't know. Later that same night, they had failed to find Danarius at the mansion and Fenris vented his frustrations, clearly stating his distrust of all mages, including her. Even then, she simply watched him in silence, then responded with polite questions about his past. That air of peace and calm was one of the main reasons he had offered her more than just the coin Anso promised. She had surprised him again by accepting him into her little group.

He must have been lost in thought for a moment, because he realized with a start that Hawke had already begun moving down the stairs. He barely heard her whispered comment.

"Perhaps I'll stop at the Hanged Man and ask how much it costs to get a room. If I'm lucky, I might even be able to get some hot bath water."

One corner of Fenris's mouth lifted slightly and he could not help but respond. "If you stop at the Hanged Man, you will get no rest. Varric will keep you up half the night talking and you'll be lucky if you do not wake up naked in Isabella's room. Unless that's where you want to be..."

That last line was whispered so quietly, Hawke wondered for a moment if she had imaged it. Her body ached after the long day and she quickly decided the best course was to ignore that comment until she could think clearly again. "I don't even want to walk all the way to Lowtown. Why did Kirkwall have to built on the side of a cliff? Do you know there are over 500 steps to go down between the Keep and the Hanged Man?"

A rumbling chuckle that Hawke had never heard before echoed softly in the darkness. "Why, in the Maker's name, did you count them?"

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that they seemed to be alone for once in the darkness, but Hawke found it somehow easier to let down her guard. Her response surprised them both.

"Magic was not the only thing that I inherited from my father. Even when I thought he was busy with something else, he always noticed the smallest details around him and could remember it all perfectly years later. Carver regretted that level of awareness whenever he got caught trying to sneak out at night, but I admired it. It gave my father incredible control over his magic. His spells could hit any target precisely and he never wasted lyrium. He often said that magic is like any powerful weapon, if you don't know how to control it, you will end up doing more harm than good."

The corners of Hawke's lips curled upwards slowly, and Fenris felt a strange sensation in his chest at the sight.

"You know, even though my parents never discussed it in front of me, I always thought that Hawke was not my father's real family name. It fit him almost too well, like a well-earned nickname. I wonder if I will ever have the chance to find out."

Fenris was so intrigued by the insight into Hawke's history, that he did not respond with his normal rant against magic. He simply prompted Hawke to continue.

"So you share your father's gift. How does that lead to counting steps?"

Hawke shook her head and laughed for a moment.

"I'm not sure if it is a gift or a curse. The first time I walked from the Keep to Lowtown, I counted all 524 steps without even realizing it. That happens sometimes."

Understanding lit Fenris's face. "And like your father, the memory stays with you even after having been in Kirkwall more than a year."

"Yes, I remember everything, even the things I wish I could forget."

The smile had disappeared from her face as quickly as it had appeared. She glanced up at Fenris as though trying to guess his reaction before she spoke again.

"While I would never wish anyone to be subjected to the pain you endured while receiving those marks, I sometimes envy you. Your past before the ritual might have been much worse than what came after. Forgetting it might be the best thing that happened to you."

The bitterness that was never far below the surface rose swiftly. Fenris's scathing tone clearly conveyed the anger he felt at her words.

"And it could have been glorious, but I'll never know, will I? The freedom to chose was taken from me. All that was left was the pain."

He turned and strode down the remaining stairs, heading for his home in Danarius's abandoned mansion. The faint sound of cursing in Arcanum faded into the distance. Hawke lifted a weary hand to wipe away the tear that slowly rolled down her cheek. Her whispered response was swallowed by the darkness before it ever reached him.

"I understand more than you know."