When Hawke opened her eyes, the sun was setting. Camp was already set up, and everyone was gone, save Carver, probably out looking for dinner. Hawke guessed she'd accidentally fallen asleep. She stood up and stretched. Only then did she realize Anders' medicine had worn off. She felt remarkably refreshed, healthy, happy to be alive; happy to be here with all of her closest friends, away from the tension in Kirkwall that had been hanging over her for so many years. She felt free.

She walked over to the fire and took a seat next to Carver, who had his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He was sitting so perfectly still, Hawke wondered if he had fallen asleep. She looped an arm through his and rested her head against him. "I love you," she said merrily. Slowly, his head rose from his hands and he looked at her, a bit confused at first. Finally, he decided not to question it. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, without saying a word. They sat in a content silence for a while, until Isabella appeared before them in nothing but her soaking undergarments, breathing heavily.

"The river water is remarkably perfect. Do you want to come join us?" she asked. Hawke looked to Carver as though asking permission. He nodded her on. Isabella grabbed her hand and pulled her from her seat, then along the river bank toward the sounds of laughter and splashing. "It's quite a bit deeper over here," she informed her. "Let's get you out of those clothes."

"I can do it myself, Isabella, thank-you," Hawke said.

"Good luck," Anders said, appearing from nowhere. He suddenly grabbed hold of her, causing Hawke to shriek, and threw her into the water. She screamed as she flew through the air and landed with a loud splash. Anders jumped in after her. Shortly after, her head poked through the surface and she began laughing. It took great effort to remove her light armour underwater, but she managed it, and tossed it up on to the bank. Once she was done, she swam over to Anders and pounced on him, pushing his head under the surface. He struggled to get her off, and she finally let him go. After a moment of gasping for air, he said decidedly, "I deserved that."

Everyone had noticed since they left Kirkwall that Anders seemed happier, as though unburdened, which was the case. He laughed and smiled more over the past two days than he did in all of the years he had spent in Kirkwall. Out of everyone, Anders seemed to be the quickest to accept and adjust to the situation. He must have been glad, after all he'd done in Kirkwall, to escape it all. He had done what he'd set out to do, and walked away unharmed, much to his surprise and the disdain of many. Many nights he'd spent lying awake, thinking of all that was to come. For so long, the resistance ruled his life. Now, he was about to become an idol to oppressed Mages everywhere. He thought that after what he'd done, he'd be executed or imprisoned, or maybe he'd walk away, though with all of his friends hating him forever. Hawke had kept him alive, and she still seemed to want him around, so he was more than content.

Isabella and Varric were laughing, Merrill trying not to laugh at his distress for fear of offending, but failing miserably. Orsino stood on the riverbank, watching in amusement. Anders saw him and called out to him to join them. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave into the pleading when the four others joined him. He removed his gloves, undid a few latched and allowed his robe to fall to his feet. Slowly, he managed to remove his trousers. He approached the water and tested it with his toe. Satisfied, he waded in up to his waist and then floated up onto his back. He allowed the gentle current to carry him along, closing his eyes, oblivious to the others and their shenanigans going on around him.

Hawke watched curiously, head cocked to one side, as he floated along at a snail's pace. She swam alongside the elf silently for a few minutes before she grew bored of it. She grabbed hold of his feet and began pulling him through the water before he realized what was going on. His eyes shot open and he began to fight against it, paddling frantically as he began taking on water. "H-Hawke!" he cried out in confusion.

She let go. "Oh, hello. Fancy meeting you here," she said innocently, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Especially in your underclothes. What a coincidence. I must say, you're looking exceptionally naked on this fine evening," she added.

"You as well," he said, smiling crookedly. "I can't remember the last time I went swimming. It must have been back when I was an apprentice, maybe even before that. I can remember, though, my father teaching me how when I was very young. I asked him to show me how he floated on his back the way he did. I always thought it was magic. I was so proud once I learned how to do it myself, and used to love doing it."

"Oh I'm sorry, were you talking? I was distracted by how painfully ancient are." Hawke smiled. "I'm only kidding. That's a lovely memory. When was that? Two Ages ago?" She kicked back and began swimming a viciously fast backstroke, laughing all the way. Orsino swam after her.

"It's become apparent to me that you think of me to be quite old. I'm not that old," he called after her.

"If you don't mind me interrupting," Merrill began, joining him as he chased after Hawke, "when I a little girl, there was a boy my age in the clan who was always teasing me. One day, he kicked down a little house I made out of twigs. The Keeper told me it was because he liked me." Once she'd finished, she swam back over to the others and left him to his game of chase.

"Did you hear that?" he called, laughing.

"Unfortunately," she called back. Hawke stopped and let herself float on the water's surface, just as Orsino had done before, allowing him to catch up to her. He, too, flipped onto his back so that he could float alongside of her. They floated alongside each other in silence, arms linked like a pair of otters, until Carver came and called the swimmers in for supper. Orsino flopped forward and began making his way down river to where his discarded clothes were. Before he knew it, Hawke was on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. She closed her eyes and settled in against him. He carried her through the water and up onto the bank, where she dropped onto her own two feet. She marched over to her own pile of clothes, neither saying a single word. Orsino smiled to himself as he put his clothes back on.

Hawke bent over her pile of clothes and prodded them with a single finger. Still soaked. She lifted her trousers up off the ground and frowned at them. Anders ran past her, clad in his own sun-warmed, dry clothes, chuckling at her. She began to shiver as the wind blew, and she sighed. Orsino tossed his robes at her as he passed, figuring she needed them more than he did. Hawke wrapped herself up in them tightly, picked up her wet clothes, and followed him back to camp.

The party gathered around the fire and began to eat. The sun was setting below the mountain, leaving a trail of pink light behind it. Hawke sat with Carver and Varric under a tree, only just within the fire's light, bathing in shadows. Varric managed to refrain from speaking for about thirty whole seconds after Hawke sat down next to him – Carver's stoney expression was too much for him. "So tell me, Junior, why are you only now deciding to take such an interest in your sister's love life?"

Carver sighed, deciding to let the 'Junior' go. For now. "Because, Varric, I hadn't seen how Fenris looks at her until today. He's no better than a feral dog, and I don't trust him with my sister."

The aforementioned sister's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "Maybe you should mind your own business, Carver. I think I can handle myself just fine." She shook her head and began chowing down in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of a mabari hound. "Besides, I don't know if you've noticed, but he and Isabella are sleeping together. Or were, I don't know what's going on between them; I mind my own business, unlike you."

"Last I checked, Isabella is still all hands with him," Varric affirmed. "You've got a lot to learn about love, Junior. Anyone can see that Orsino and Anders are the only remaining active love interests. Sure, the First Enchanter's a bit old, but he's got that certain… je ne sais quois. Remember when he stood up to the Qunari? Damn. And Anders… well, there's a lot of history there. And have you seen the way he follows her with his eyes? You can tell by the look in his eyes that he aches for her. I'd say he still has a fighting chance."

"Well, he is a Grey Warden. How long do they live after joining the order again?" Hawke asked, though she was merely just wondering aloud. The thought brought a frown to Carver's already troubled face. "I mean, if anything, Orsino and I'd have more happily-ever-after time." She began to trail off in thought, before she whipped around to face Varric. "What do you think?"

"I honestly don't know, Hawke. I've never had to choose which of two equally complex, angsty men to pursue. Let's start by weighing the pros and cons."

"Alright, I'll start; Anders is ruggedly handsome, Orsino is more refined. Two good points. Cons; Anders in an abomination, Orsino was seconds away from using blood magic."

"Anders is a pretty passionate guy, Orsino's more the compassion kind of guy. I bet Anders would be better in bed."

"Yes, but he did blow up the Chantry, killing an innocent woman in the process." She paused, her nose crinkling. "Though, he smells like a real man – all dirt and sweat. Orsino smells like," she paused to smell the robes she had wrapped herself up in, "fresh rain and parchment. Ooh."

"Elves have pretty eyes, although –"

"Remember Anders' nice rear end," Carver chimed in sarcastically, turning to Varric, who seemed a bit irritated at being interrupted. "I can't believe you're trying to get my sister to hook up with a couple of fugitives."

"Not a couple, only one," Hawke corrected. "That's the point of doing pros and cons. You forget you're a wanted man, as well. We're all running from the authorities, Carver. Don't think you're any better just because they're Mages."

"I am better; there's no possibility of me suddenly turning into an abomination!"

"Watch it, Carver," Hawke warned, "lest you forget." She summoned a flame with the snap of her fingers. "And that pretty little flower of yours is one of the greatest dangers those Templars you hold in such high regard hunt."

"Don't think we haven't noticed you've taken an interest in Daisy over there," Varric added, helpfully nodding in Merrill's general direction. "C'mon, Junior, if your sister is going to choose one of those guys, wouldn't you like to have a say in it?"

Carver found this offer very tempting at first. But then, he decided it best not to anger his sister anymore by thinking any better of himself than her or her 'active love interests'. If there was anything he hated more than seeing his sister upset, despite anything he may say, was seeing that she was upset because of his doing. He figured he ought to speak his mind. "Tell me: are you going along with Varric's little charade to amuse him, or to annoy me? Because, though you feign interest in these men, we both know what's going on here."

"Carver, I don't 'feign interest' in anything or anyone. We're just having a little fun. This is just between the three of us. A game. I don't th-"

"Oh, give it up, sister. I think you're just afraid to admit the truth – even to yourself. But you know what? You're a grown woman, and it's about time you act like it. I don't want to hear any more of it!" He grabbed his food and drink and stood up. "If it helps, I honestly don't care what you chose to do. You're my sister, and, though I don't say it often enough – if ever – I love you, no matter what." He marched off over to the fire and plopped down next to Merrill.

Varric hardly ever looked up from his supper. "He's right. Either way, Isabella's friend-fiction followers will be terribly disappointed," he scoffed.

"Yeah, you and I are not going to fall in love with each other. What is with her 'friend-fiction', anyway?"

"Hey!" They turned and saw Isabella waving her arms at them. "If you two lovebirds are done over there, can we get to the serious stuff, like where we're actually going? Camping with you all is very nice, don't get me wrong, but I'm not a fan of wandering aimlessly around mountains paths."

"Where do you want to go?" Hawke asked as she got up. She and Varric made their way over to the fire as Isabella began to speak.

"Well, I am a pirate. It's about time I got back to, you know, pirating. More specifically, I'm, going to rejoin the Raiders."

"Alright."

"Hold on, 'alright'? After all this time?"

"You're one of my best friends, blah blah blah. I know I can't stop you, Isabella."

"…Right."

"I would like to go with you," Fenris said, much to everyone's surprise. "Hawke told me that I should start a life of my own, and lay down roots. I intend to find a place to lay down roots. I've had enough with magic and Templars. So, if you'll have me..."

"Of course."

"I have to go back to Kirkwall," Aveline said. "I think Donnic and I will come with you to the next town, we may stay for a few days until the initial chaos dies down, but… Kirkwall is without a leader yet again, and my position can be used for good – to lead the people back into an era of peace. I couldn't just abandon them.

Donnic placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I know the area. The next town isn't more than a day's journey. I think we should be headed in that direction. We're almost out of supplies, anyway. We could stay there while you all get sorted."

"And what about you, Varric?" Hawke asked. "What will you do?"

"I'm going to go back to travelling," Varric said. "Tavern to tavern, collecting stories, embellishing them, and spreading tales of our excellence, Hawke. Minus the whole pretty-much-starting-a-holy-war thing. It's what I'm good at."

"I think I'll build myself a house somewhere," Merrill said, "far away from the city. I'll go back to living off the land. I'm Dalish, it's what I know."

"Maybe you'll become a witch of legend, like Flemeth," Hawke said with a smile.

"Every town I stop in," Varric began, "I'll tell the tale of the little elf witch who lives alone in her hut in the woods, who eats little children who misbehave."

"Goodness me, no," Merrill exclaimed, though she couldn't help but smile.

"I'm going to go back to helping people, I think," Anders said. "I don't doubt they'll come looking for me. And there's only one thing that will protect me." He gazed into the flames, sighing. "I have to go back to the Wardens. They saved me from myself before, they can do it again. The authorities won't take me if I'm in service. Probably. Unless Sabastian does raise an army and come back for me. Besides, I did help people while I was with them."

"I think I'll take up a hobby," Orsino said. "Or maybe I'll write a book. A grimoire. Who knows?"

"And me, well," Carver began. "I have to say, I think it's time I officially rejoined my fellow Grey Wardens as well. What about you, sister?"

Hawke paused. For the first time in a long time, she was without direction. "I don't know."

"I think it's safe to say, you're welcome to come with any of us."

Hawke smiled a sad sort of smile and shrugged. "So, do we all agree that, when we reach the next town, which seems to be tomorrow, we're all parting ways, then?" Everyone mumbled some sort of affirmation, and Hawke's heart sank. "It's all a bit… sad, don't you think?" A similar mumble of affirmation erupted, though a bit more slowly and with a bit of hesitation from each party member. "Well, we'll all know where Aveline and Donnic are, so we can always stay in touch that way," Hawke said helpfully. It was mostly to console herself, though the others took comfort in her words all the same. Merrill muttered something about true friendship, but Hawke was unable to focus on her nervous stutter.

After that, the party picked itself back up again, and stayed up chatting, drinking and playing cards well into the night. Only when they finally ran out of ale did everyone begin heading off to bed. Aveline and Donnic were the first to retire, setting off a chain reaction of people who didn't want to be the first to admit that they were tired. Soon, it was only Fenris and Hawke who remained. After a few moments of silence, the former stood and stretched. "Hawke, don't look so lost. Knowing you, wherever you go, whatever choices you make – you won't be wrong. You've started a new life once before, you can do it again, I'm sure." And with that, he left her alone, staring at the dying embers of a once brilliant fire.

"Hawke." The urgent whisper of her name coming from the open flap of an open tent caught her attention. She rose slowly to her feet and stumbled over toward it. She tripped over a rock, but strong arms caught her and helped her regain her balance. The half-gloved hands helped her identify the owner, though she couldn't see his face in the dark. "Come." Orsino led her to the tree under which she'd eaten her previous two meals and the pair sat down. "I couldn't get to sleep," he admitted.

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," she said, feeling a lump in her throat.

"Anders fell asleep a soon as he laid down his head," he said, chuckling. "He talks in his sleep. Says… naughty things. Your name came up a lot. My name, too." Hawke couldn't tell if he was joking or telling the truth.

"I guess you'll get your wish, Orsino," Hawke blurted out very suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

She pulled the robes tighter around herself. "Well, we only just joined forces, and tomorrow we're parting ways. We'll never become close after all."

Orsino paused to think before he replied. He could have sworn he heard her voice shake as she spoke. He suspected it was just the cold. "That's not what I meant when I said that. I just didn't want to see you get involved," he said finally, finding the response adequate himself. "Bit late for that now, I suppose. Though, I guess the only way we'll ever get the chance to become friends like you wanted is if you were to come with me." It was almost a question. Orsino cursed himself internally for the way it came out.

"I suppose," Hawke managed. She found herself shivering from the cold. "What would the two of us do, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know… hide from the Templars, catch up on our reading, slit our wrists and dance naked under the moonlight?"

"Well, if that's what you had in mind…" They both laughed, remembering that day after Hawke had escorted Orsino back to the gallows. In his quarters, they had made the same joke, roles reverse. In the distance, they could hear the howling of some animal. Hawke looked up at the moon and sighed. "Makes me wonder where my dog has gotten off to," she muttered softly. Orsino grunted in acknowledgement. "I'm cold."

"Me too. Come on." He pulled her in against the warmth of his firm chest. A few moments of silence passed before Hawke spoke up.

"Hey, Orsino."

"Yes?"

She craned her neck so that she could see the outline of his head. "I'd say we're pretty close." Orsino snorted in amusement and Hawke settled back in against his chest. His soft breathing and of the sound of his heartbeat helped to ease her mind. "So, if I asked for unbiased advice, or asked you any sort of hypothetical question, you'd provide an answer, right? I mean, we're friends."

"Yes."

"Right." She took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment, furrowing her brow, and let it go as she found her resolve. "Do think it's possible to love something – like cake – and I don't mean care for it, really, but rather, be impossibly in love with something, and for a long time felt this way about it – and to not want it? What I mean is: eating cake feels wrong, even though it tastes so good, and your heart tells you that you want it. And yet, in the back of your mind, you still know that you don't want cake, because it's bad for both of you. You'll feel bad after eating it, like, icky. You'll use the cake, eat it all up, and leave it nothing, and it will make you feel terrible in the end, because, everyone likes cake, and it just wants to make people happy, but you're doing this terrible thing to it. And cake wants to have cupcakes someday, and you can't stand cupcakes and have never wanted them. Ever. And, say this cake has… fruit in it, so it will expire sooner than other cakes. But you don't want to eat anything other than cake because you've in love with it for a while. Is it still worth it?"

It took Orsino a moment to process Hawke's complex hypothetical, and another to formulate an answer to it. Though she couldn't see it, he looked decidedly perplexed. "I know it's possible to want something you can't have, or to want something you know is bad for you, but to want something you know is bad for you and to not want it at the same time means you've put too much thought into it. 'Is it worth it?' I've been through a lot myself, and I'm ready to live for once, to put my happiness before all else, and as much as I'd like to provide my verdict unbiased… for the first time, I have a friend – an equal – and I enjoy your company. I'm not going to give that up so you can run off with some reckless revolutionary to have some short-lived affair that will bleed you both dry and ultimately end with you being alone and feeling guilty. You've given me eternal freedom, Hawke, and I want to be able to enjoy it." There was a pause, and he sighed. "Slightly biased, but also fairly reasonable, I hope," he finished.

"Mmm."

Hawke separated herself from him and rose to her feet. All that he could see of her was the twinkling of her eyes. She bent over to touch his shoulder gently, then found his hand and helped him stand. "Thank you." Something about her detached tone stirred something within him. Just as soon as she'd said it, he felt her absence.

"Any time, Hawke," he murmured.

Everyone was glad to be sleeping in warm beds again. Everyone but Orsino, it seemed. Not that he wasn't glad to be in a warm bed, he hadn't slept so well. Anders and Carver were set to leave for Weisshaupt in the morning, Isabella and Fenris were off to the nearest port with Varric in tow, Merill was off to the Brescillian Forest, Aveline and her husband were enjoying some quality time, and Hawke… he thought he'd heard she was going with her brother, and that meant she was going with Anders, as well.

He'd woken up at first light, but tried desperately to sleep through till noon, hoping everyone would have left the inn before he got up. He had no desire to hang over their farewells. Not only did he feel as though he didn't belong, he also didn't want to endure the whole thing. For the first time in far too long, he'd made a friend. And it wasn't just that he'd finally found someone so worth his time and attention, but Hawke had gone to such insane lengths to not only help him in any way she could, but also to make him her friend as well, and the thought of having to say goodbye to that so soon made him want to pull the covers over his face and turn away from the world for a while. So he did.

After managing to force himself back to sleep for an hour or two, the friendly wife of the innkeeper came to wake him and ask him if he wanted any lunch. He politely declined and confirmed his intention to stay indefinitely before tossing her a silver and asking for a tea and adding, "Keep the change." She closed the door gently behind her and Orsino finally threw off the covers and ran his fingers through his greying hair. He swung his legs over the bed and was reaching for his boots when he paused at the sound of a knock at the door.

"Are you up?" came the muffled voice from behind the door. There was something in the voice – a hint of desperation that caused his heart to ache. He could hear a soft sob follow the words. His face drained of colour. He was afraid to answer.

Orsino nodded before he realized they couldn't see him. "Yes."

The door flew open and Hawke flung herself at him, kicking the door closed, her clenched fists hitting his chest, making their mark again and again. Tears stained her cheeks. "You weren't there. You told me not to go, and you weren't there for me when I didn't!"

It took him a moment to understand what she meant, and what exactly was happening. Then it dawned on him. He took her hands in his, holding them tightly, and pulled her in closely. "I'm sorry, Hawke." She fought against his embrace, a sob breaking through her lips and shaking him to his very core. "I'm sorry he's gone." She began to relax against him, crying into the crevice where his neck met the sturdiness of his shoulder. The soft nook that smelled of fresh rain made her feel safe. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling her immeasurable distress leave her in an instant. "I'll always be there for you from now on, I promise."