Varric was sitting at his usual table, telling stories in the new Hanged Man. He finally had ownership of his favorite spot in kirkwall. Even though it wasn't the same building, and it wasn't in Kirkwall. The Inquisitor was kind enough to help him with building the new tavern as he paid for the materials and the rights for the name from the proprietor of the old building, long since destroyed by all the fighting in Kirkwall. The city was still rebuilding itself but lowtown will be one of the last places they rebuild.

"Sir Dwarf it has been some time hasn't it?" Varric could still hear Leandra's voice in his ears as he wrote.

He heard Carver's as well."Professional younger brother? Perhaps you do not mind being in another's shadow but I will not stay there."

Anders before he was no fun, "I've got a new templar joke for you dwarf."

Fenris brooding as usual, "I do not brood. You are annoyingly persistent Varric."

Merrill after reading one of his books, "B-but I don't understand, why would they do that to their hero?"

Aveline always cross with his tales, "Varric how is it you could write such things?"

Rivani, "Care for a new game of wicked grace? I hear there are some very high stakes in the next one."

He heard them as he wrote the final of Hawke's books. He also heard them when he read Hawke's book. That was why he never read them. Sure the others were all living happily ever after as best as they could. Fenris and Isabela had ran off someplace together, and Merrill was living peacefully among a group of mages that were looking for a place to call home. Carver was still working for the wardens, even if he wasn't with the other grey wardens. He was killing darkspawn as Aveline kept him hidden. Her and Donnic trying to keep control of what little order they could outside if Kirkwall. Carver occasionally wrote Varric, but not one letter since Hawke's death. Varric still had a hard time believing that she was gone.

He wonders how the others reacted as they read the letters he had sent them. Merrill and Aveline were the first to write back. Aveline was clearly distraught as she wrote without all the formality she was known for. Her regrets spilled all over her letter. Merrill's was wrinkled and the ink smudge from what he had guessed was tears. It was filled with questions of his certainty and if there was any chance she was still out there or in the fade. Fenris wrote to him saying he was sorry he had not been there. That him and Isabella was torn to hear of the lost of the champion of Kirkwall. He asked if there would be a funeral. Varric responded to all, saying he wasn't sure if a funeral would be held because Junior had yet to respond and that he was dreadfully certain Hawke was gone. He had asked Aveline what Carver had planned, she simply did not know. He apparently refused to speak of it with her.

Considering how Carver and Gamlen were all that was left of Hawke's family and he trusted Gamlen about as far as the man could throw a knife, Varric deeply hoped Carver would decide soon. There was no way Varric would allow Gamlen to plan such an event. He would only use it to disgrace Hawke in front of the grieving. Even if Charade was with him.

Thinking of a possible funeral caused Varric to think back. The choice had been between her and the Grey Warden Alistair. The Inquisitor made her choice, and she had gone beyond normal lengths to make it up to Varric. She knew he would never agree with her decision and she truly was sorry, but the wardens needed a leader and Hawke told her she had no one to return to unlike Alistair and the Inquisitor.

"She wanted me to tell you goodbye." The Inquisitor took every opportunity she had, had since to cheer him up. She had practically become putty in his hands from guilt. That guilt was what got him his own tavern though. He should have 'guilted' Aveline years ago for the original. Haha. Though it would be worthless after what Anders did, even if he had owned it.

After having heard that Hawke truly felt she had no one to return to, Varric felt deflated. What was even worse was that he began to feel defeated and lost after the grey wardens weren't exiled. Did Hawke truly think she was such a screw up that no one would miss her. None of her old friends? Not her brother? Not even himself? That was what truly caused him distress. That and that the wardens would not have to pay for the lost.

So he wrote. That was how he now told his stories in the new tavern. Some of his best writing was done when the stakes were high or a battle had ended, and there had been quite a few battles. The Inquisitor had defeated Corypheus. Though there was costs. Solas had soon disappeared after and the Inquisitor was out so much that she rarely had time to search for their lost friend. She kept an eye out while she was on other missions, but she could only focus so little time on searching for him.

"There you are." Hearing the familiar voice Varric sighs, and pushes away the book he was writing in, letting the air dry the ink. He wouldn't admit a loud but he was grateful to hear that voice. Even if it only brought bad news and tempers with it.

He turns around and rests his hairy arm, on the short back of his custom made chair, that Dorian had ordered for him to use in his new tavern. "Well, if it isn't Junior. How have you been kid?" He asks with his usual teasing tone.

Carver would usually scoff or glare at Varric at the use of this nickname. Right now he looks as if he hadn't slept in days, and that he was about to drop at any moment. Still he had this powerful look about him and it assured Varric that Carver would not fall of exhaustion.

"We need to talk." Ignoring or maybe even simply accepting the use of his nickname Carver asks, "Is it true?" His voice suddenly didn't have the same strength it use to. Now it sounded rough and anxious as if he was trying to hold something back as he questions the pathological liar.

Varric closes his eyes and looks away from Carver. He knew what the boy meant and he wished Carver had just written him back instead of coming to face Varric and the truth himself. He was glad to see him but he would rather face an angry Hawke then a grieving one. Speaking from past experiences a grieving hawke was not only an angry one but a dangerous one. One that would be nearly impossible to calm down. Hawke herself having almost destroyed three buildings in hightown after her mother's death.

"Sit down Junior. I'll order us some drinks."

"I don't want to sit down! I want to know what happened Varric! All your letter said was that Hawke had died, valiantly and like a hero. That she was gone from helping the greater good and trying to fix her past mistakes! What kind of letter is that Varric?" Carver Hawke shouts as he slams his fist into the table, causing the patrons to turn in their seats to watch the pair. Some clearing waiting for a fight that Varric would not let happen if he could prevent it.

"Carver," Varric begins trying to hold his own temper at bay while dealing with the hothead. He has lost everyone Varric, hold it together. Little Hawke had always been a handful. Maker where did Hawke get her patience? "Let's go back to my room. No one to listen in, in there." He suggests and gets up. He picks up his book and carefully closes it after checking that the ink was dry enough.

Carver lifts his fist from the table and follows Varric who signals to the bartend for two drinks before going up the stairs. Varric leads him to his new room which he had gone through a great deal of trouble to look like a replica of his old one, however it was larger and there was now a door that blocks the entrance to the room.

Varric pulls out a chair at the end of the table before walking over to the other end. He sits down and waits for Carver to sit down in the pulled out chair. Carver however looks straight at the chair and walks right past it. He chooses to sit the closest chair to Varric's left. "You still don't pick up on hospitality all that well it seems.

"To the fade with your hospitalities Varric. I want answers. What happened?" Carver was shaking now. Varric couldn't tell if it was from desperation to know or if he was that angry.

"I don't know all of it Junior, but I'll tell you what I can." Varric chooses his words carefully, this would be Hawke's final tell. Justice should be down to it, though if Justice was anything like the one he knew, then it deserved even better. "Actually you had guessed right. We were in the fade." Varric made a play on words from Carver's earlier outburst.

"Of course." Carver scoffs. He rubs his eyes while muttering about how that was just like Hawke.

"Don't be so quick to judge. Hawke had to go. The Inquisitor needed her and Alistair there."

"Why? Why was it so important that Hawke had to go? Knowing her it was just to gain more glory. Your outlandish stories probably weren't giving her the recognition she use to get from them anymore."

"Junior that had nothing to do with it. She wasn't going for glory. She had just come out of hiding after what happened in Kirkwall. She wanted to make sure that Corypheus would die and stay that way this time." Varric says a little on edge. "Now will you let me finish?"

"Fine. Just hurry up and get on with your story." Carver says giving Varric a face too cold for the boy who had gone into the deep roads with them. Then again, he wasn't that boy anymore, and years of facing darkspawn changes people. He was glad Hawke wasn't here to see him like this.

"That was when we were separated. I don't know what happened next. I couldn't see everything and I was getting pushed through the portal by the others. If you want to know the rest, you will have to ask the Inquisitor." Varric finishes with a little wave of his hand to add a bit of finesse to the scene. It also served to signal the end of his tale. He couldn't help but be dramatic while telling any story and little such movements were often used when he told stories orally instead of writing them down. A wave of a hand, the tick or click of a tongue, the most odd jump timed perfectly down to add the best moods to a story.

Now was not a time for dramatics though. Varric knew but he couldn't help himself. The show on Carver's face made Varric's heartbreak. Silent tears were streaming from his eyes as if he held two pools of water behind them. His face was nothing short of a wreck even beyond the tears.

Varric had never seen him cry before. It really didn't suit Carver. Immediately he stood up and covered the short distance to the last Hawke. Patting Carver's back he sees a barmaid standing in the doorway with their drinks. He quickly motions for her to bring the drinks over.

"Hey, there are our drinks." Varric tells Carver as the mugs were placed in front of them.

Carver shakes his head, staring down on the table. He was trying, and failing, at hiding his tears. "I'm not in the mood to drink."

Varric nods but leaves it there incase Carver changes his mind. "i would think you were in the perfect mood to drink. You look like you need one." He sighs and returns to his seat.

The room was filled with anticipation as Varric watches Carver carefully. It felt as if he was either going to break or disappear before Varric. Neither would help.

"I never wanted her dead."

Varric raises an eyebrow with interest. He had not expected to hear Carver say that. The boy had always been very spiteful towards Hawke but the thought that Carver wanted her dead had never entered his mind.

"I know Junior. I know." He swishes his drink around in it's mug a little. It had begun to taste sour.

"We always fought. Maker I blamed her for Bethany and the Grey Wardens." Carver closes as he rubs his eyes before pinching his nose. He was rubbing his eyes a lot. "She must have thought I hated her. Especially when I argued about going with Aveline instead of returning to the grey wardens. Andraste forgive me."

Varric listens as he plans his words carefully. "She never thought that. She knew you loved her even if you didn't always show it. You didn't need to. And Andraste has nothing to do with this apparently."

"How do you know? How could you possibly know what my sister thought?" Carver asks spitefully.

"You learn those kind of things when you spend six years of your life by someone's side Carver." He taps his knuckles mindlessly against the wooden table. "Let me tell you a story kid. I asked your sister the same question. I wondered why she always brought you along when all you did was question her choices. Why she insisted on carrying around the few letters you sent her everywhere. Especially when you made it clear that you blamed and hated her every chance that you had. Both indirectly and bluntly. Her answer was always the same." Varric pauses to finish his drink. The warm liquid burn his throat as it went down, not kindly at all.

"Varric, I need someone who questions me. How else will I be sure that I have thought my choice through." Varric says in his mock Hawke tone. "Varric, I grew up with Carver. He may blame me but no more than I blame myself, and as long as he writes I know he's still alive and at least thinks of me. That's all I need to know to understand how he feels. I did grow up with him."

"I think I'll take that drink now."

He switches back to his own voice. "Go ahead."

Carver grabs the cup and finishes as fast as a nug who hadn't had water in weeks. Admittedly he was impressed.

"Honestly I thought it was all a bit too sappy to put in my books. So I left it out."

"Blast her. Can't even let me feel guilty for my behavior and how I've treated her. I was such a,"

"Brat? Fool? A twit? Gamlen? Yeah you were."

Carver laughs. It was hollow but the sound was better than the silence. "No, no. Don't hold back on my account."

"Wouldn't think about it."

"Gamlen? Really?"

Varric shrugs. "If the personality fits."

"As if you're one to talk."

"I have something you don't Junior."

"Oh really?"

Varric takes the empty mugs and walks them over to the barrel that sat right outside his room. He left them there to be collected. He smiles at Carver and gesture to his chest. "Fabulous chest hair."

Carver loses it. He shakes his head as he laughs louder than Iron Bull at one of his Krem jokes. It slowly dies away as Varric smirks and sits back in his chair.

"Trust me. Chest hair can get you pretty far little Hawke. Don't believe anyone who says otherwise."

"Even if they aren't pathological liars who feel the need to constantly boost their own egos."

"I wouldn't say constantly."

"I would."

The boys turn their heads to see Aveline standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed and she propped herself against the frame. Smiling her usual quaint little smile at them.

"Aveline." Varric greets. He had wondered if she was around here somewhere or if she had allowed Carver to come by himself.

"Varric. I see you finally got your hands on The Hanged Man. I hope legally."

"Of course. No need to break laws when you work direc under the one who makes them."

"That's not what the Inquisition does Varric. I know that much about it at least."

"It's not that far off though." He rebuttals.

"Are you two done here? I don't think we should stay for long Carver." Aveline abruptly changes the topic. It was clear she wanted to leave.

"You should speak to Cassandra, Red. You two would get along great." Varric teases.

"Already have. For some reason she thinks the guard in your books has to do with me. She said something about Hawke already having signed her copy of 'Tale of the Champion'. She insisted I sign her other book by you."

"And?"

"I insisted she shouldn't read such trash and that you would never dare write me into one if your books after I told you not to."

"Of course I wouldn't." Varric says and presses his fingers together in front of him. "I rather enjoy living."

"Speaking of which." Aveline looks over Carver with wary eyes. Seeing the red splotches on his face and having seen the empty drinks outside of the room, Aveline looks to Varric for answers.

"Just talking Aveline. I won't keep him any longer then he wants." Varric answers her questioning gaze.

"Is that so?"

"It is Aveline." Carver says with a slight annoyance coming through.

Aveline shakes off the testy mood of Carver. She was long use to it by now. "You aren't the only one facing the loss. Don't use her loss as an excuse to be an,"

"Now, now. We don't want a fight. This fine establishment has a rule against the breaking of chairs and tables."

"That's new."

"Its new place." Varric says with a shrug. "Actually Carver there is one question I have."

"The funeral will be at the old mansion. In Kirkwall." Carver answers and let's his shoulders fall.

"Wasn't it destroyed?"

"I wish. That place was nothing but trouble. Still it is still there and it's a place all of my sister friends know." Carver says not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice.

"Alright. I'll write the others." Varric gets up and grabs a parchment of paper from the closest shelf.

"There isn't a body so we'll be burning something else of hers." Aveline informs Varric.

"Such as?" Varric inquires.

Aveline glances down at Carver, having moved from the door to a spot closer.

"Her legacy." Carver answers.

Varric says nothing. He simply nods as he writes."So you're burning down the estate?"
"No. We are." Carver answers.

The house was a wreck. It was still in better shape than most of them but it had definitely been ransacked. Or at least the main hall had. There was upturned furniture, discarded weapons, torn carpet, and trash everywhere. "Either people have been here or Hawke had come home sometime while on the run." Aveline jokes and Varric smiles. At least her sense of humor had grown.
"It has been awhile. How have you been, uh, Varric?" Fenris asks a bit awkwardly. He had a tie on even though the rest of his clothes were as informal as can be. Isabella had apparently convinced him to wear different clothes. It was an all black shirt with no sleeves and a pair of loosely fitted pants that had holes all over them. Some of the holes look as is they were burned into the pants. He still wore the spikey bracelets though. It was nice to see some things never change.
"Nice to see you too spikey." Varric greets as Isabella lifts him from behind. She turns him around in her arms so that she was hugging him tightly against her chest.
"Nice to see you to Rivaini."
"Hawke and I didn't always get along the best but she was always there for me. I really am sorry Varric." Isabella whispers sadly into his ear.
"Don't tell me that. Her brother is over there." Varric says as she sets him down. He throws a look over his shoulder towards Carver who was watching the guests arrive. He looked calm enough. Maker willing they could all be as calm.
"Mhmm. He looks good. Since when did he grow up so much."
Varric laughs as Isabella bites her lip. "Careful Rivani. Broody might hear you."
Isabella nods not really listening to Varric. "No harm in admiring."
Varric chuckles to himself as he shakes his head. How Fenris ended up with Rivaini was still a surprise to him. "Varric?" He looks up at his name being called. There was only one left to show. Merrill was walking very carefully, as if stepping into the estate would summon the ghost of Hawke herself.
"You alright Daisy?" Varric asks and Daisy smiles gratefully at him before her face falters and the tears start. She takes a few more steps closer to him before falling onto her knees. She had barely made it through the door. Varric reaches her first and she glomps her arms around his neck. before burying her head into his shoulder. Carver, who had also been coming over to check on Merrill glares at Varric. Varric rubs Merrill's back as the young elf cries. By the time she paused in crying her seemingly never ending tears, the right side of Varric's shirt was soaked.
"She's gone. She's really gone." Merrill cries out before the tears began again.
"Yeah. I know." Varric whispers back and squeezes Merrill.
"Merrill sweetie." Isabella says sweetly to gain the distraught elf's attention. When Merrill looks up Isabella smiles. "Hey, why don't you come with me. I'm going to look through some of Hawke's old things that she left here. After the rebellion. Want to come and help? You never know what we might find." Isabella says with a wink.
Merrill hiccups as her sobbing slows. "Y-yeah."
"Want to come with?" Isabella asks Carver as she helps Merrill up onto her feet again.
"I have better things to do then to go through my sister's things." Carver answers and looks away.
"Sheesh no fun. Come on Merrill. Let's go see what we can find."
"Hey, where's Meervan?" Varric asks, realizes the dog's absence from the group.
"He wasn't with her?" Carver asks in confusion. He had not seen Meervan since the fight against Meredith. Where would his sister send their dog. She would have never left him on his own.
"No. I would have remembered. He owes me a rematch from our last game." Varric begins subconsciously whistling Hawke's old call for the mabari.
"She did not send him with us." Aveline answers.
"Maybe he's with Orana or Sandel." Fenris suggests. He was finally contributing to the conversation.
"She could have told one of us if she had." Carver says angrily. He grew up with that mabari and where it had always been closer to his sister he still cared for it as well.
"Look what we found!" Isabella says happily. She held a few bottles of spirits in one arm and a large book in another. Merrill smiles from behind the larger than life pirate. At least she was smiling now.
"What is it?" Fenris asks walking over and grabbing one of the bottles.
"Hawke's memoirs." Merrill answers and Isabella tosses the book down onto the closest table. One of the table's legs snap and it falls to the ground, book and all.
Varric picks up the book and wipes off the dust and dirt. He opens it up to one of the first pages and reads an entry of Hawke's right after she had moved into the estate. Under it was one Varric had edited. "Here you go kid." Varric says, closing and tossing the book to Carver. He caught it with ease.
"Everyone ready?" Carver asks briskly as he tucks the book under his arm and walks towards the door.
"You don't want to look around once more?" Varric asks as Fenris passes him the bottle that was currently switching hands through the group. He takes his share before handing it to Aveline who then gave it to Merrill. Who finished off the bottle before anyone had the chance to stop her.
"I already saw everything I need to." Carver looks over his shoulder, and up the stairs. He sighs and clenches his hand to chest where the family letters sat in his armor. He had found some in his mother's room and the rest in Hawke's. He also took Bethany's old necklace. His twin had made it for their elder sister after she had found out about her magic. She made Carver a crown of thorns it was suppose to be roses, but many of the petals had fallen off by the time she was done.. Bethany always had a twisted sense of humor. Her and Hawke had argued until Carver grew tired of it and wore the crown for Bethany. With his head scratched up and his sister complaining about the idiocy of twins he swore he would become the best knight in all of Ferelden. Now he was a grey warden. Not exactly a knight but maybe it was close enough.
"What's that?" Aveline asks as Carver was looking over the necklace, lost in thought.
Her question alerted him. "A very old relic." He answers before tucking it away.
"Clearly." Aveline definitely didn't believe him but she wasn't going to press the subject.
It was an odd sight. The group of six standing in a line in front of the mansion their closest friend had lived in for the six years she was with them. She had brought them together. Through circumstance and intuition. Now they stood here again, bidding her farewell. It made Aveline's stomach flip. This wasn't right. "Does anyone want to say a few words?" She asks gesturing towards the house. "Before we finish this?"
Varric waits a few moments but once it became obvious none of the others were going first he cough to clear his throat. "Hawke may be gone but she didn't go out like any other person. She always had to be unique." He chuckles a darkly as he looks at the others. "Will she be missed. Darn right. Are we going to keep crying over it? If she had her way no, but since when did Hawke ever expect us to give herself, her way?" He looks over at Merrill who was sniffling again. "After this, drinks are on me." Varric finishes up. He never was one for long goodbyes. Hawke would understand.
"She was the best mage, and friend anyone could have asked for." Merrill says.
"Tell Anders that." Isabella says snarky.
"Shut your filthy mouth pirate before I silence you." Aveline orders.
"Ooh someone angry."
"Such blatant disrespect." Aveline growls.
Why was the pirate even here? She wasn't even loyal to Hawke. She had no right to ruin this moment. Varric could practically read the thoughts going through the predictable guard captain's mind. "Now, now ladies. The fireworks haven't even started." He intervenes.
Carver steps ahead and looks up towards the sky instead of the house or even behind him towards the group. "Why did you always have to play the hero?" He asks the wind and as if to answer it picks up speed a little. "Father. Bethany. Mother. They're all gone. And now so are you. You could have said goodbye before joining the Inquisition." Some would have confused his statement to be a bitter one but Varric knew better. He wasn't bitter towards Hawke. He just wanted answers, and his family back. Varric understood that feeling all too well.
Carver lights a match and tosses it toward a small pile of clothes Varric and Aveline had piled into the doorway after everyone else was outside. The fire was slow to pick up. Once it did though the wind only aided in its growth. Merrill helps by shooting a fireball into the mansion. As the inside filled with ashes that were carried out and onto the streets the building's layout and structure stood firm. It was a few hours before the whole structure had collapsed from the heat and loss of internal support. Carver hadn't moved the entire time. One by one the others had left. Leaving only Hawke's three closest friends left by the end.
"It's over." He couldn't believe the words that were leaving his mouth.
"It has been over for a long time." Aveline adds. She wasn't wrong but that didn't make it any better.
Carver walks away from Varric and Aveline, until he was standing in the rubble that was left. Some parts of the neighboring house had fallen onto the pile as well. It was more rubble than ash by this point. "I told them it was pointless chasing lost titles." Carver says as he bends down and rubs his hand through a small pile of ash. He wipes his thumb across his nose. "It's not a blood mark, but it felt right. Somehow." Carver says the uncertainty showing through his voice, as he turns around to face Aveline and Varric.
Varric laughs. "It's something Junior. That's for sure."
"You look ridiculous." Aveline confirms and Carver glares at them.
"I will never understand why my sister ever put up with you two."
"We're charming, playful companions. Who wouldn't want us around?" Varric asks. "Plus." He motions to his chest. "Credit where credit is due please."
"It was because of the chest hair." Aveline confirms before giving Carver a small smile.
He grumbles a few insults before glaring at the floor instead. He starts rubbing the ash from his face, when he was stopped.
"Now, now Junior. Don't go doing that. How else will you get Daisy's attention?" Varric teases as he lets go of Carver's arm. "Now let's get going. I am in need of a new shirt."
"If I remember right the drinks are on you." Aveline reminds him. "That's one way."
"Thankfully then it's not hard to get Daisy drunk."
"I don't know what either of you are talking about."
"We know kid. Don't worry your secret is safe with us." Varric says with a wink.
"Isabella already knows doesn't she?"
"Since the first time she saw you talking to Daisy." Aveline and Varric confirm.
"Don't worry about it Hawke. Daisy doesn't know at least." Varric says comfortingly as he walks on the other side of Carver. Aveline to Carver's left. "We'll help you get Daisy's attention. Can't let all the Hawke's die out now."
Carver's face grows a dangerous color of red.
"Careful kid. Your face might freeze that way and then you really wouldn't have a chance."