"…And so, I couldn't just leave him at his mansion," Hawke finished up. "If he chokes on his vomit, I'd never forgive myself for it. I shouldn't have even let him get into that third bottle." She slumped down on the sofa in front of the fire as Varric enjoyed a glass of some rare Antivan brandy that someone had gifted to her recently. She certainly wasn't going to be enjoying said brandy any time soon.

"He'll be okay waking up in your guest room, I take it?" Varric asked. Merrill was in the upstairs part of the library, humming as she looked over the various plants that Hawke had up there, and Anders was looking through some of the books, probably trying to make sure that his manifesto was where people could get to it, in the most popular volumes.

"He's done it before," Hawke replied, and pressed the tips of her fingers against her eyes. "He might be a bit confused, but he's slept in that room before, during some of the worst weather, so it will be somewhat familiar to him. And I'll check on him a few times while he's sleeping. I doubt I'll be getting much sleep, though."

"Not even given birth yet and you're already checking on someone through the night," Varric chuckled. He sat back in the comfortable chair and put his feet up on the low table in front, the heel of one booted foot resting on the toe of another. "So, are you planning on marrying Ser Broodiness, Hawke?"

Hawke shifted slightly to check and see that neither of the others were in easy listening distance, and she kept her voice pitched low for Varric only as well. "This… wasn't exactly planned, you know."

"I figured that part out," Varric admitted. "But you seem a little bit happy about it, at least, and Fenris seems… to be handling it about as well as I would have expected him to. But I thought you two were together? That's what tends to lead to situations like that, you know."

"I'm not sure 'together' is the right word. It was..." She untied the leather wrap around the bottom of her braid and started unplaiting her hair. "It was just one night," she managed, tilting back to check on the others again before admitting that.

"That doesn't seem much like the elf," Varric said, and then took a long drink of his brandy. "Was it your idea?"

"No," she admitted, and realized that her voice cracked during the single syllable. Maker. "It… wasn't my idea, and not my preference, either, truth be told."

"Two months ago, eh? That wasn't long after we ran into that Hadriana woman."

"I'm pretty sure that had something to do with it, although it wasn't the same night. Maker, anything I tell you is going to wind up in one of your stories, isn't it?" she said, accusingly.

Varric held up his hands in protest. "All names will be changed to protect the innocent," he promised. "And the not-so-innocent as well." The grin he gave her was downright devilish and Hawke couldn't help a low chuckle and an eye-roll at it. "But you know the others are going to ask questions about it. It's not like he's been able to hide how he feels; I just can't figure out why he isn't acting on how he feels."

"He's not very good with dealing with his feelings yet, I think," she murmured. "You'd better enjoy that brandy, I'd certainly kill for a taste of it."

"Too bad you're not a dwarven woman. All good dwarves know that their moms loved them if they drank while pregnant."

"That explains some things," Hawke said. "Such as the fantastic chest hair."

"It's always the chest hair," he replied, chuckling deeply.

Hawke sobered quickly and wiggled her bare toes, crossing her fingers over her still-flat belly. "But seriously, Varric… I don't know, with Fenris. I don't know his plans, or what he wants. He said he wanted a few days to 'think about things,' and then he insisted on going with me to Anders's clinic and the only reason he got kicked out of the examination was because he didn't trust Anders to stay professional. One minute he's staring at me as if I'm the only water in a desert and the next minute he's telling me he can take care of himself. I just…" She moved her hands back to her unbraided hair and started running her fingers through it. "I just don't know."

"Hawke, you know he's covered in spikes, like some sort of angsty porcupine," Varric told her. "Maybe… maybe you shouldn't count on him to be more involved."

"I guess I won't," she said, and nothing in the world would have been able to keep the sadness and disappointment out of her voice. "I've been alone since Mother was killed, and I need to face those facts."

"You're not alone, Hawke. You have us. All of us. And even if Broody doesn't decide to man up and face the consequences, he'll still be there as part of your crew, and you know it. The man might not care a spit for mages or magic, but he'd walk through fire for you no matter what and you have to know that."

"I… suppose I do." The clock above the mantle chimed the hour: 11. "Maker, Varric, you all need to be getting to your respective beds!"

Varric swallowed the rest of the liquid in his glass and set it down on the little table before getting to his feet. "As you wish, messere. It's not like you won't have a broody baby to think of. I'll send Isabela by, but not too early, and I'll warn her to avoid any potentially sensitive topics if the elf is around."

"Good idea. Isabela can be a bit tactless," she responded. "Anders! Merrill! It's time for you both to go home now!"

Goodnights were said and Hawke stopped in to check on Fenris, who was snoring slightly on his stomach. Hawke stood in the doorway and watched the shadows from the moonlight play over him for a minute, lost in thought and frowning. Fenris made a sound and shifted slightly and Hawke managed to come to herself and closed the door most of the way to before slipping into her own bedroom. It was late and she was exhausted; her normal nap had been skipped in favor of all of the day's activities, and she felt her eyelids drooping heavily. By the time the downstairs clock was chiming midnight, she was resting on her bed, on her side, a pillow curled up against her stomach and one under her bed.

She knew, theoretically, that she could count on her crew to be there. They weren't just people she worked with, they were part of her family as surely as Carver was. Hawke had had no really close friends before they came to Kirkwall, but since coming here she had made the best of friends, people she could truly trust to have her back. She may know nothing of motherhood, or even of being the Champion for the entire city-state, but they would work tirelessly for her. In some cases, it was for the coin, mostly, and in other cases, it was more for the friendship aspect, but regardless, they would have her back as she had theirs.

She could hear the door to her room creak open slightly and then, a moment later, felt the bed indent as a large, warm body jumped onto it. Her mabari, Hero, snuffled around a few minutes before making his customary "whumping" noise and lay down with his nose pressed against the small of her back. Hawke stretched out and moved the pillow back to its customary place at the top of the bed before turning over and snuggling up against her own drooling, slobbering status symbol, scratching him behind the ears.

"So, Hero," she began, voice kept quiet so as not to disturb anyone else in the house. "I'm going to be a mommy, and you're going to be an uncle-dog." Hero "whumphed" again, softly, and thumped his nub of a tail. "That means more baths for you, and less treats. You have to be in good shape in order to keep the bad guys away." Hero whined slightly and Hawke managed a giggle that was only slightly forced. "It's okay, it'll be good for you. You're getting a bit fat, anyway. And we're going to be going on a trip, boy! How does that sound?" He "whumphed" much more loudly and she winced, hoping he didn't wake anyone up. "I'm not sure where we're going, but we'll go somewhere nice, that you can run around. And catch squirrels?" Again he whumphed, and she nuzzled her face against the fur of his side. "I can always count on you, boy," she murmured, and closed her eyes before drifting off to sleep.

Her sleep was, predictably, disturbed by various types of dreams, most of which made her feel very, very horrible at being a mother, some of which included Fenris turning her and the baby in to the Templars. She woke several times during the night, her eyes feeling grittier each time, and forced herself to get out of bed to check on the drunken, slumbering elf. Fenris showed absolutely no signs of having any sort of distress whatsoever, and Hawke envied him for that; how nice, to be able to sleep solidly.

When the dawn finally began peeking through, she woke up and decided that she would just say to hell with sleep and would stay up. This morning, she was able to avoid most of the morning sickness, probably because she had been up and down so often during the night, but she knew, from past experience, that it would hit her harder towards the afternoon, especially if she didn't eat several small snacks. Orana, Bodahn, and Sandal were all still sleeping, and Hawke, never one to let boredom get to her, decided to go ahead and cook breakfast, making sure to make enough for five, even though she had a strong suspicion that Fenris would really not enjoy eating when he awoke.

Eggs, toast, and little sausage patties, since she could not stomach the smell of bacon anymore and because she desperately craved meat lately. Anders had told her that was normal, to both want food and have foods she couldn't stand to eat or smell, and she could remember, vaguely, from the few pregnant women she had spent time around in Lothering that such was the case.

Today there were going to be plans made. One thing she had already decided, in between the short-ish naps she had taken, was that she was going to visit Xenon at the Black Emporium and see if she couldn't get him to do some sort of appearance-altering; she knew, from previous experiences, that hair could be changed in color and style, and skin tone could be dyed a certain amount, but perhaps the… man… knew more ways to alter appearances that were neither permanent nor completely awful. One of the best ways of hiding was being in disguise and not looking like you normally do.

The next thing would be planning on where to go. The more she thought about it, the more a quick jaunt somewhere far away, like Antiva or Rivain, or even Orlais, sounded better, and then coming back quietly and staying a fair distance from the city, but not too far away that Anders couldn't make it out to check on her. She knew Anders was watched, and if he was being watched, he could be traced to her. But, there was none she trusted in delivering her child more than him. A village midwife could probably do it, but things would wind up coming out, and even the best and most disciplined mage couldn't control their magic that well during birthing pains. Even the best-intentioned midwife or Healer would be tempted if offered enough coin to divulge that the Champion of Kirkwall had just given birth. Or even just a random mage who lived outside the village had just given birth. She wondered, vaguely, what her own mother had done. But then, she hadn't been a mage, and her father had been able to hide his magic fairly well, from what she had been told.

So. A visit from Isabela. A visit to the Black Emporium. A decision on where to go. And she would need to be seen out and about for the next fortnight or so, while travel arrangements, including coin and places to stay, were being made. Some small amount of packing. She could discuss the idea of new clothing with Merrill, too; the woman had to know someone in the alienage who would be willing and able to make dresses that she could wear for when she got larger. Getting them made now, covertly, and ordered by Merrill, would reduce the amount of problems they would run into later. Assuming she didn't balloon up like a house, of course; she had heard some women did that, even women with her smaller frame. She had a few inches on Merrill, true, but not much more in the bust or in the general size; her hips were wider, but a dress made a certain way would take that into consideration, as well.

Toast finished, eggs finished, sausage finished, and the rest of the household, sans her unexpected guest, all rising and probably hungry, Hawke begin plating out breakfast, slipping one of the small sausage patties down to Hero, as was her custom. Some hot ginger tea, to help with the general nausea and to make sure she passed water all day long, and soon she was sitting down and enjoying her little fare. After a few moments Orana came in and fussed over her, exclaiming that it was too early for mistress to be up, and mistress should not be cooking breakfast in her condition! Hawke grimaced and rolled her eyes, wishing she had been able to keep that particular news from Orana longer than last night, but the woman was deathly afraid, still, even after months of being shown kindness, of putting a toe out of line. Bodahn and Sandal came in not long after, making a great fuss over the good smells, and soon the three of them were joining Hawke in breaking their fast, looking better rested than she certainly did and felt.

"I may have to go out in a little while. Messere Fenris is here, asleep in the main guest room. He had rather too much to drink last night, but if he rises while I'm gone, let him eat or drink whatever he wishes other than any more alcohol, and tell him he is welcome to remain here and rest until I get back. I have only a few errands to run and I will certainly be back by midday."

"As you wish, Mistress," Orana said, nodding.

"Also, Messere Isabela should be arriving sometime. She may get here while I'm gone as well. For Andraste's sake, try to keep her away from Messere Fenris or I'm afraid they're going to be impossible and may get blood on the carpet again."

Bodahn chuckled and Sandal made an approving sound; nothing like some bloodshed to get the day started, eh?

"Just to let the three of you know, I'm planning on taking a trip soon. I will be away for quite a while, possibly even a year, but you are welcome to remain here and take care of the estate for me. Life will continue on for you as expected, and I no doubt expect many of my crew will stop by and see to things that need seeing, especially my correspondence. You will be paid regularly, as you have been, and will have whatever coin you need to continue upkeep on the estate."

"Mistress, if you wish me to go with you, I will," Orana promised, and Hawke knew the young woman was sincere. She opened her mouth to tell Orana that it was best she remained at the estate, and then closed it with an audible click of her teeth. It was true, that she would need a woman to help her, and, while some knew she had a young elven lass to do maid work and such around the house, Hawke hadn't exactly had a lot in the way of visitors the past few months, being too full of grief over her mother to entertain, and then recovering from the injuries from the Arishok. She had done a lot of traveling to others and being entertained there, yes, but…

"I will think on it," she said to Orana, instead of dismissing it outright. "It's true that I will need a capable young woman to help me out in my travels."

"That's our Miss Orana," Bodahn said, fondly. "Very capable. It was a lucky day for us, indeed, when you brought her into the household." Orana flushed prettily at the compliment and Hawke grinned, wondering if Bodahn wasn't possibly sweet on her. Or perhaps he saw her as a daughter; he knew the man had been married, back in Ferelden, and that, while Sandal wasn't his son by birth, the boy was old enough to be his naturally. Orana was in her late teens, at best. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more she believed Bodahn must look on her as a father would.

"It was a lucky day, indeed, Bodahn," Hawke agreed, out loud.

"The Mistress is too kind," Orana murmured, but her words had a pleased sound, and the lovely blush on her face didn't go away. Good; Orana needed all the positive reinforcement that she could get. It was important that she understood that she was not a slave, to anyone.

"Right," Hawke said, clapping her hands together lightly and pushing away from the table. "I'm going to get ready to go out. You three…. Do the things that need doing. Remember about Messeres Fenris and Isabela. Maker, I hope his hangover isn't too bad. Orana, you might want to be listening out for him and brew him some of that willowbark, elfroot, and spindleweed tea you're so good at. He's going to be an absolutely massive grump, I'm sure of it. And apologies to you beforehand; if he's an ass, just let me know and I'll get onto him. I know none of you will."

"Mistress!" Orana said, shocked. Shaking her head ruefully, Hawke chuckled to herself. Of course, Orana wouldn't dare say that any of Mistress's guests were acting like an ass, but Hawke would know better.

And then upstairs to wash up and dress, trying to get the gritty feeling out of her eyes, trying to get the too-dried-out feeling to go away. She wouldn't waste time getting a full bath, but a quick wash would suffice, and some clean clothes. The tea had her needing to make water already, and she dreaded the idea of going out to the Black Emporium without the knowledge of where a proper privy would be, between the two places. She may just have to stick to the more well-known areas, she thought to herself, and stop in and buy something quick from a merchant if she felt she needed to go, then beg use of the privy there. She was well known, after all, and few merchants would turn away a paying customer.

At least she was less distracted today. The hard parts were over with, she felt: confirming the pregnancy with Anders, and telling Fenris about it. Even though he had reacted just about as she had expected, she wasn't dead, and no one else was, either. Chalk it up as a success. Still, Hawke couldn't help but stand in front of the mirror again and eye her belly, checking to see if she could tell any difference from the day before. It still appeared as flat as ever, and her hips appeared as bony. Surely, even at two months, her stomach must be a little bit fatter, yes? Hawke pushed her breasts up slightly, and then pushed them together, making faces at herself in the mirror for a moment, pushing her belly out as far as it could go. She ran a hand over the flat plain of it and scowled again. She didn't want to get as fat as one of those elephants that Fenris had told her about, but she still wanted to put on enough weight to be healthy. That was something she should probably talk to Anders about: how to put on more weight without it being unhealthy weight. She was eating for two, now, after all, but one of them was very tiny, too small to see.

"What are you doing, Hawke?" came Isabela's amused question from her doorway. Hawke jumped, startled at first, and then chuckled ruefully.

"I'm trying to see if I can tell that my stomach's gotten fatter."

"Ah. I heard a little bird mention something about that. It's why I came over relatively early." Hawke blinked at that; Isabela was a lot earlier than Hawke had personally expected her to be. "I know, I know," the pirate said, holding up her hands and rolling her eyes. "But Varric made me promise to get over here and soon as I woke up, and I, for one, didn't drink myself to excess last night nor did I have company. It was positively boring."

"We've all got to have an off night," Hawke quipped. "But I'm glad you came over early as you did. I was just getting ready to leave." She marked her words by pulling on her clothes: light trousers, this time, to go with a lightweight tunic, and a robe that tied to go over it all. "I'm thinking that my first stop is to see Xenon."

"Xenon?" Isabela raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Why in Thedas would you want to see him? I wasn't aware that dead mages knew a lot about babies, although he probably knows more about it than Fenris does."

"Maybe not a lot about babies," Hawke supplied, "but I know for a fact he's got a mirror there, and I can probably get my hair color changed, and maybe my skin color, too. A few weeks in and, if he can do it, I go see him before we leave out of here for… Destinations Unknown, so far."

"Good idea, sweet thing! I'll make a rogue out of you yet," Isabela promised, winking at her. "Now if we can just work on your fashion sense. Your taste in men, by-the-by, is absolutely superb. That taut body. That brooding demeanor." She whistled, low and appreciative.

"Fenris is hardly mine, Isabela." Hawke sighed wistfully as she sat down to pull on her boots. "And that reminds me. I need you talk to you about…that…"

"He's hardly yours? The man got a child on you that you're keeping, and he looks at you as if you put the moon in the sky. It's almost disgusting, if it weren't for the thought of the two of you in bed here, in the throes of passion and crying each other's names." Isabela drifted off for a minute and licked her lips, an odd smile on her face.

"Maker, 'Bela. No. Fenris and I… aren't exactly together. And I'd rather not gossip about it, if it's alright with you, but… Just no. We're not together. It was his idea, I guess, I don't know. It wasn't my idea. But I'm honoring his wishes. So, no jokes like that, if you please."

"Oooh," Isabela cooed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Does that mean he's available?" A cool look from Hawke, one bordering on icy cold, and Isabela raised her hands in supplication. "I retract the question, sweet thing. I will have to go on dreaming, I suppose."

"I'm sure your dreams are much better than my reality," Hawke told her. "Now… ready for a shopping trip to the Black Emporium?"

"Only if we can stop by Lowtown while we're out. I found this amazing hat shop there…"