Hurricane

Chapter One

"We are all illuminated, lights are shining on our faces…"

-Hurts "Illuminated"

Voices lowered and raised in a grueling chorus of property taxes and funding demands. Hours began to blur together, but a pair of sharp blue eyes fought to remain open and diligent despite the repetitive nature of the topics at hand.

"Viscount Hawke, what say you on the increase of profits nobles make on their trade goods?" Seneschal Bran leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table with his quill twitching eagerly in his fingers.

Marian Hawke crossed her arms over her chest and looked out over the table at the faces awaiting her decision. Either way half of the men in the room would leave hating her today, at least until she passed something that put her back into their good graces.

"It seems that things have remained well for the nobles even with the cuts in profits, am I correct?" Silence fell over the politicians and Hawke raised a dark brow in question. "I'm sorry, did I not speak loudly enough for the Council?"

"Forgive us, Viscount. You are correct about the cuts but we believe that if we own the goods, we should receive full profit from them."

"Exactly, it as Lord Ghislain has said! We organize trade deals and pay to maintain our shops and stalls, we should be allowed to-"

Hawke stood from her great chair and narrowed her eyes at the bickering men before her. "Who is it that allows you to make these trade deals? Who runs your shops and stalls and puts up with theft and brutality while you sit in your estate stuffing yourselves on sweetmeats and lying with those who have no other choice? The poor and less fortunate of this city have suffered long enough. They have exhausted themselves working for us and received little to nothing in return."

Bran stood and bowed slightly to the angered woman. "Please, understand that we have taken the previous cuts will all due graces, Your Grace."

"Five percent of profits going into the city's fund is not breaking anyone here by any means. The added profits in the treasury have allowed us to clean up both Lowtown and Darktown and build high traffic clinics. Why would I allow that to slip away now?" Hawke picked up several scrolls from the desk and bowed to the Council. "I say no, the five percent tax on all incoming funds remains. Council dismissed."

She turned on her heel and stepped through the heavy oak doors as they were opened by the guards, followed by Bran who seemed just as eager to get away from the angry shouts as she was. "I trust you'll be able to handle these?" She asked before passing the documents in her hands over to the antsy Seneschal at her side.

"Of course, Your Grace. Will you need an escort home this evening?" Despite his cynically realistic nature, Bran had proved himself to be a valuable assistant once Hawke had taken the position of Viscount. His experience with the late Dumar and several noble houses had indeed been critical to her sanity as she dealt with the selfishness she met with everyday.

"No, not tonight. I have to pick up some medicine from my physician. Your concern is appreciated, Seneschal." Hawke sighed with exhaustion and gave her staff a farewell before being escorted down the steps of the Keep.

She exchanged several greetings with shopkeepers as they hurried home after a long day. Hawke effortlessly began to blend into the shadows and out of sight from people heading home.

Her goal tonight wasn't her glowing Hightown estate.

It was the unsavory depths of Darktown.

The trip usually took her an hour or longer, depending on how long it took her to dismiss her escort. Just outside of the dirty gates she carefully removed the elegant grey satin robes she wore when dealing with the nobles. Underneath the well tailored façade was the sleek armor of the rogue persona she had adopted in more trying times.

Hawke carefully folded the robes to avoid creasing and stashed them away in a crate she had placed nearby for this very purpose. The satchels within held dried flowers that she slipped from the foyer of the Keep to ensure that her robes were kept smelling fresh.

Preparations complete, the lithe woman slipped through the back allies and roads with her trusty daggers tucked into her boots. The sudden change in smells made her smile, knowing that she was right where she needed to be.

Though the streets had been cleaned up considerably, it was still taking a while for the stench of-what could only be described as decaying flesh- to go away. Despite the foul odor Hawke pressed on and did her best to maintain her composure and not gag when her boot landed in an unmistakable pile of feces. "Please let that have been from a dog…" She grumbled, wiping the bottom of her footwear off as cleanly as possible on the hard packed dirt.

After what seemed like an eternity a small house came into view that sat nestled between two buildings that had long since been abandoned. A single candle sat in the front window, it's flame flickering with warm invitation despite the shabby appearance of it's surroundings. Hawke smiled and gently tapped on the window.

Moments later a familiar figure stood between her and the glass, his smile illuminated by the fiery dancer moving on the waxen pillar below him. He moved towards the door, and Hawke followed.

The second the door opened she found herself in a storm of hungry kisses and needy touches. Their hands waged war on each other's clothing, their tongues engaged in a timeless battle for dominance.

"It's been…Far too long, Marian…" His calloused hands expertly released the final clasp on her armor. The offending chest piece was kicked to the side as Hawke struggled against the infuriating buckles of his coat. Material was torn almost to the point of disrepair, but off the coat came.

"Anders…Oh…" Hawke moaned and arched into his touch as the mage's hands found her bare skin. Pure energy flowed through the tips of Anders' fingers as they danced across his lover's body, setting her senses ablaze with sheer desire. Every inch of Hawke's body opened to his caresses even as he lowered her to the cool sheets.

They found completion in each other's arms, peace in each other's eyes. Moonlight glinted off Anders' damp skin and cast a shadow over his lover. That was where she felt safest, in her mage's shadow-his strong body gliding over her own, protecting her from the world's cruel eyes and expectations. For years Carver's goal was to rise from her shadow, yet when all eyes were on her Hawke wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Anders' darkness.

Their bodies orchestrated time's oldest, most cherished symphony; his hips conducted the music of her sighs and moans. When satisfaction claimed them they collapsed in a mass of trembling limbs, happily spent.

Nestled in Anders' arms, Hawke didn't have to move much to see that their candle had burned out-time was up.

When the sigh escaped her lips, Anders didn't have to see the glob of wax on the window sill to know what was wrong. This is what they had been reduced to; one night, one enchanted candle…Her leaving before guilt had a chance to set in.

He really had no one to blame but himself. After all, it was his decision to destroy the Chantry. Hawke had forgiven him despite the trouble she knew it would cause and had stood by her decision when Sebastian threatened to return with an army. She had even used her position as Viscount to clear his name of the bombing and used funds from her own pocket to pay some undesirables to spread rumors that the true terrorist had been killed during the fighting that took place that night.

Seven years had passed since the Mage-Templar War, and Hawke had brought the city back from the brink of destruction. Suspicion about Anders' involvement with the people's beloved Chantry caused numerous attacks against the new Viscount and their history as lovers did neither of them any good.

They barely laid eyes on each other during those hostile days as more and more rumors began to fly that despite the crimes committed against the people Hawke still pursued a romantic relationship with the "Chantry-destroying demon". Her position as an unmarried woman, even as a woman in power, drew attention from the Council and Hawke was unable to give them a valid answer as to why. "I don't want to" and "I'm in love with the man who destroyed your Chantry" wouldn't have settled too well with the Council members. A year had passed since Hawke's rise to power and in a desperate attempt to protect herself and the man she loved so much, she accepted the proposal of Kohl Vermeil.

She wouldn't lie, then Antivan born noble had proven to be a valuable member of the Council during the grueling task of not only the physical aspects of rebuilding, but in the repairing of a government system tainted by Templars and mages alike. Another aspect that Hawke appreciated about the man; he favored Anders. His hair was the same deep blonde though he kept it slightly shorter and his face was clean shaven. His eyes were the same hazel but lacked the warm, rich sadness Ander's held. He was a wonderfully kind man and truly cared for Hawke…What more could she have asked for?

Anders told her he understood and even accepted the position of her personal physician along with Merrill. He stood by her every decision, but when the time for the wedding came he couldn't bring himself to go. Hawke never blamed him.

The wedding was more lavish than Hawke cared for, but she smiled and accepted it for what it was. Varric walked her down the aisle and brought tears to her eyes when he slipped a letter from Carver into her hands before he gave her away. The ceremony was attended by every noble in Kirkwall, and even King Alistair and his Warden Queen came from Ferelden. She danced every dance, and cooed over every gift and idols for fertility and a long, happy marriage. But despite the fun and laughter, she managed to think of Anders, and wish she could have done something more.

An Antivan honeymoon proved to be the stuff dreams were made from and Hawke tried to keep the mage from her thoughts. An orange kitten outside their inn quickly brought him back into her mind and instantly she was back to faking even the smallest smile.

When they returned they moved into the newly renovated Hawke Estate, expanded to support the future children of the couple. Two nights later as her husband slept, Hawke crept out of bed to seek comfort in the arms of the man she truly loved.

His position as the Viscount's physician was the only thing keeping Anders' protected. He moved into a small, discreet residence deeper into Darktown, ignoring Hawke's request to take up residence in the Market District. The night he found her on his doorstep in her bedclothes in the pouring rain, he took her into his arms as he had so many times before-no questions asked.

They knew what they were doing wasn't right, they even tried to stop it more than once. But a scent, a color, even a touch of a familiar fabric sent them running back into each other's arms. There was no explanation they could have given, only that when they were with each other, it was right. Anders created the candles to help them keep track of time; the candles would burn out in two hours time and signal the two lovers to return to reality.

But one day their affair came to a halt. When Anders sensed the child growing within her he simply shook his head. "Not when there is children involved…We can't." He lay a hand on her abdomen and smiled. "The child will be strong."

Hawke's pregnancy progressed perfectly with Kohl practically beaming over his quickly approaching role as a father. In the earlier stages Anders would come to the estate with Merrill and monitor Hawke and the baby's health, but the day the growing fetus kicked for the first time he stopped coming.

"He said he tried, but it just hurt him too much." Merrill told her when they were alone one day. The Dalish patted the rogue's hands and offered a warm smile. "At least he tried." She promised that she would take over and deliver the child when the time came.

A healthy baby girl opened her eyes to the world on a warm summer night. The child had her mother's vibrant blue eyes and a thick head of hair that quickly turned the same luminous black as Hawke's. Merrill swaddled the newborn and lay her in her mother's waiting arms. "She'll be a strong woman. Just like her Mamae."

Hawke smiled down at her little miracle, both Merrill and Anders' words running through her head as she touched each delicate finger, felt every downy soft strand of her hair. She named her Bethany after the sister she lost so many years ago, and watched as her daughter combined her late aunt's ability to get what she desired with her mother's quick wit. Hawke and Kohl stood powerless in the presence of those big blue eyes and felling pout.

Bethany's third birthday had brought even Fenris over for the festivities. Varric had given her a toy model of Bianca, Aveline and Donnic presented her with a gorgeous porcelain doll that had been made to look like her. One gift quickly claimed the child's full attention; a fluffy grey kitten watched the commotion from Isabela's arms with wide green eyes.

"From a friend." Was all the pirate said before setting the kitten in Bethany's waiting arms.

Hawke's breath caught in her throat. Not a word out of the mage in years, and he sends her daughter a birthday present. That very night she found herself sneaking out of her house feeling very much like a teenager again.

Her old talents served her well in making the all too familiar trip through the dark streets. The pungent smells of herbs and salves reached her nose before she even rounded the corner that lead down a narrow street. That very path dead ended at Anders' house, and as she walked she swore she knew they way there better than to her own house.

There he stood, surrounded by a mother cat and her young, all the same grey as the kitten he had sent by Isabela. The mage gave each kitten a tender pat before looking up.

No words needed to be spoken, none could have described the emotion in that moment. Three years of separation for one night of love thought lost, a love Anders was willing to give anything for. "When will I see you again?"

The question shook Hawke to her core, because for once in her life she didn't think she could answer the question. Was she in any position to love freely? To have someone that she truly loved and someone who she loved but didn't…Love?

"Anders, I…" Her hands fell from tying her tunic as questions and emotions ravaged her mind. "I can't guarantee a next time."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them like a shroud of broken hearts and cast aside what-might-have-beens. "Too much is at stake. My daughter, the city…I can't risk losing everything I've worked so hard for." Hawke turned on her heel to leave, but her lover stopped her.

"Hawke…Marian, please. You wouldn't be here if you didn't care." Anders felt her body tense.

"Of course I care Anders, but I can't! I can't afford to care for you anymore! And that…" Tears poured from her eyes, the blue orbs rolling with the clouds of a turbulent tempest of emotions. "…that very thought breaks my heart…But damn it, I can't!"

"Marian…"

"What?"

Anders cradled her face in his palms and brushed away the tears as they fell. "You didn't mention Kohl…"

The rogue's eyes widened. "I-it should go without saying! He's my-" She was silenced by the very kiss that still took her breath away, just as it did all of those years ago.

"Have your marriage. Rule the city that once threatened to destroy everything we were. Raise that beautiful little girl that looks more and more like you everyday." Anders lay his hands over her heart, feeling the thunderous pounding against his palm. "But…Leave me this."

Hawke hesitated, and whatever was going through her mind in those moment will forever remain a mystery to anyone but the woman who thought them. She brought her hand up and covered his own. "No one can ever know. We'll always be a secret."

A weak smile crossed his face. "I would rather share the shadows with you, than face the sun without ever again feeling your touch or tasting your kiss.

So began their affair anew. For seven months Hawke faced her days with perfect clarity, playing the roles of mother, Viscount, wife, and lover with perfection. By day she was a hardened noble and fiercely devoted mother. By night she was a simple woman reduced to the most basic need; to love and be loved.

When Anders felt another new life growing he stopped Hawke from leaving. "I will not abandon you this time."

Merrill was once again joined by Anders as the family's physicians, and when Hawke delivered another daughter Anders was on the sidelines cheering her on.

Adelae was one, Bethany almost five, and Hawke was still seeking Anders' company. Kohl was still oblivious and even considered the mage an irreplaceable friend despite the unspoken contempt for the family's choice of company.

Hawke had finished dressing but found herself being pulled back into the depths of the still warm bed. "I hate those candles, you know."

"Oh? Two hours too long for you?" Anders wrapped his long arms around Hawke's waist and raised himself to nuzzle her neck.

His scruffy face caused her to giggle and recoil. "It's not long enough." She pressed a kiss to his hair before untangling herself from his hold. "I have to get going. Bethany still isn't feeling well."

"Ah! Speaking of that, I have a remedy for you to give her." Anders leapt from the bed and Hawke stood amazed as the shadows themselves seem to protect the mage's modesty. A moment later he returned with a corked bottle and a small wrapped package. "Medicine for Bethany…" He lay the items in Hawke's hands with a smile. "and some treats for her when she's better."

They were always terrible with goodbyes and shared only a kiss before she returned to her Hightown life. In the cover of darkness she changed back into the finery she stowed away amongst the crate of dried flowers. The polished glass of a nearby window offered her a final chance to check her appearance before facing her husband.

"I'm home!"

"Mommy!" Adelae's tiny voice echoed through the hall as a small pair of feet came toddling towards her.

"Hello, my darling! What are you still doing up?" Hawke sat the medicine and treats on a table and lifted her daughter into her arms. She smoothed her youngest child's sandy hair and chuckled as she began to babble, joy shining in her hazel eyes.

"They insisted on waiting up for you." Kohl stepped into the hallway holding Bethany in his arms.

"Daddy let us have cake!" Adelae cheered before hiding her face in Hawke's robes.

Kohl laughed, a warming act that reached his eyes. "I've been ratted out it seems! In my defense I thought it would make Bethany feel better."

Bethany's cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes were glossy. "I still don't feel good, Mommy…"

"I know you don't, baby girl. I went to Anders and got you something to make it all better!"

Mother and Father worked on each daughter, soothing one's ailments and easing one down from a sugar rush. When both children slept, the parents watched their pride and joys slumber peacefully.

"You must thank Anders for me." Kohl kissed his wife's cheek and smiled down at the eldest girl. Her cheeks were now a healthy pink, her sleep more peaceful than it had been in days.

"I will. I have to go back soon for my back treatment." Her battle with the Arishok had permanently damaged her back, requiring frequent treatments from Anders. Of course, this gave them an excuse to see each other without suspicion. Hawke gave a content sigh, then watched in horror as a trail of wetness dampened Adelae's sheets. "Oh no…" Hawke groaned and rubbed her temples in frustration.

Kohl chuckled and headed for the armoire. "Welcome home, love."

Hawke lifted the child from the bed and looked at the room around her. Her husband changing wet sheets, her sleeping babies, drawings on the floor of Hawke defeating the monsters in the wardrobe and under the bed. Then the bottle of Anders' remedy on Bethany's bedside table.

The mage was her forbidden treat, a sweet she indulged in when she felt she'd been good. Though she doubted Kohl would slap her wrist and ground her if he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. But this was her life- as so she made it, she chose to live it.

"Yes…I am home."

Last Stop: Wow, a lot to take in at first, but I felt I should take this chance to introduce the plot! The idea came to me after a particularly long play through of the game, and I had to write it. Kohl Vermeil is a personal creation of mine, and I loves him. :D He's a good guy, I swear! Ah, Hawke…The complications of love…Review and let me know what you guys think! Much love!