Hawke Family Values

By: Adrienne Valentine

Summary: Twins run in the Amell family, it seems. What would happen if the infamous Champion had a twin? What if both of the younger siblings had lived? [A "what if" fanfic.]


Chapter 2


Ophelia sighed as she walked up the stairs, not paying much attention to the other people who were there. Her family was off dealing with other business. Bethany was with their mother, keeping her company and staying out of trouble- because Gamlen didn't count as company to much of anyone, really. Carver was at the Hanged Man having drinks with some of the patrons, and Damian was busy dealing with making money for the expedition. She still didn't really understand it, but mother was certainly in favor of the idea of making more money and getting out of Gamlen's hovel. She cringed a little as she stepped into the Viscount's Keep. The large building was ostentatious, and heavily guarded. She had never done well with guards. Constantly being the one to skirt about in the shadows did that to her, she supposed with a small frown.

Why the guard's barracks were in the Viscount's keep was beyond her. Perhaps having the Guard-Captian's office there would make sense, but not much else, and certainly not the barracks. It didn't matter too much to her in the end, she supposed, as made her way up, and then down, the stairs that led her to where she knew her friend would be. The woman was standing there, staring at the duty roster that was hung. She walked up to the older woman and cleared her throat.

"Oh, hello Ophelia." Aveline said casually. The younger woman raised a brow curiously at the older woman, who seemed to have realized exactly how she had addressed the rogue and turned around to face her. "What do you need?"

"Damian mentioned that you needed help with something." Ophelia answered the other woman simply. The two women didn't get on in the same manner as she did with Damian. The female Hawke had survived a severe darkspawn attack without contracting the taint. She had gotten a ogre horn straight through her, an unseasoned scoundrel, while her husband, a trained Templar, had died. Of course, neither woman talked about it. And the younger didn't mention that she had been fighting for a far longer time than she admitted to.

The older woman considered her for a moment before nodding. She proceeded to explain to her what the trouble was. Ophelia nodded along with the woman. They could take Bethany and Fenris with them. (Damian favored bringing Carver, Varric and Merril with him when he went out without her.)

"I'll be there." She answered simply, nodding before turning back off. There was a pause in the other woman, and Ophelia turned her head back to look at her. The older woman seemed nervous for a moment, but said nothing. Without any hesitation, she left, leaving whatever was left unsaid to hang in the air. It was a wary truce, that neither of them ever said anything about the resentment that they both harbored.

For her part, the rogue Hawke disliked the woman's need to follow the law. She herself saw little use for it, as she had been living outside of it for most of her life. Living with apostates for most of her life caused this sort of need to be somewhat lawless. It didn't help that her husband had been a Templar. She understood well enough that who you fell in love with was because of who they were, not what they did, but it was something she had a hard time getting past. Especially since it struck too close to home. She winced slightly at the thought as she stepped out into the sun, pushing such thoughts through her head. She still had to meet her brother in Darktown to find this Grey Warden. Or, former Grey Warden. He had apparently left the order, which struck her as odd. Their cousin was a Grey Warden. She had only met the woman once, when she had ventured off on her own freshly after turning seventeen. She had gone to Kinloch Hold to see what it was about. Why they were running from it.

She had gotten into the tower on a lie. Barely. She had told them she was a messenger from a nearby Chantry, here with a letter to report apostates that had been seen in the area. She had actually intercepted a report that told where her family was hiding, and had forged a copy, giving directions to another location. She rememebered the incident well, however.

Shifting in the too large trousers and tunic, she checked herself in the polished mirror once again. She knew that it was late enough in the night that they would not likely send her away. As far as she knew at least. She had never been here before, and therefore didn't know how well the Templars treated messengers. She also worried about what would happen if they figured out her lie. Would they know that she was helping apostates? She knew that it was a criminal offense to do something like this, and despite that she did not look herself, she wondered if any of them would recognize her from the few times they had escaped the Templars alive. She knew better than to doubt it entirely, her chest bound and her hair cut shorter to pass as a man, she still looked very feminine. She wouldn't have minded normally, but today it was important that they believe her.

She stood there in the entrance hall, waiting, just like the Knight Commander had told her too, giving her a dubious look as he had done so. Perhaps he knew that she was a woman. Perhaps he knew that she was a mage's sister. It made her nervous, the longer she stood there, waiting. She stiffened slightly when she noticed two Templars coming her way. Both of them roughly her age, and both extremely handsome (if she had been interested in that sort of thing at the time). They were chatting amicably between themselves, and she began to relax when one of them, a man with black hair, dark skin and striking rich green eyes, took note of her. He smiled at her warmly and brought the other templar along with him. When they came up to her, it took a great deal of willpower not to flinch.

"You must be the messenger!" The dark skinned man said. Rivainni, she noted carefully. She nodded, keeping her mouth shut to avoid giving herself away. "The Knight Commander wanted me to show you to your room. It's not safe to go across Lake Calenhad at night."

She nodded again, and the other man gave her an odd look. He was a little paler than herself, likely caused by his time inside, with short, curly red head and the beginnings of a short beard. He was quiet, though he did seem friendly either way.

It had been while the two of them had been showing her to her room that she had met her cousin.

They began heading up the stairs when a slight woman came up to them, wrapping her arms around the redheaded man briefly. It had been merely friendly, a brief hug that hadn't hinted at anything more, but the man had practically turned scarlet. She resisted the urge to giggle at the man's embarressment.

"Cullen!" The woman said through a bright smile that had reminded her of Bethany, "I thought for sure they'd transferred you!"

"N-n-no." He stuttered out, the blush abating only slightly, "Th-they just n-needed me in D-Denerim for a bit."

"Good!" She said, barely glancing at the other two people in the hall with them, "I'd hate for you to leave!"

"M-me too." He stuttered out, barely above a whisper. The look that crossed the woman's face was one that Ophelia was familiar with, and she couldn't help but frown a little. She could recognize the appearance of mage's robes as well as the next person, and she was also acutely aware that mages were not allowed to marry. Especially not to a Templar. Some circles, she had been told, allowed mages to marry amongst themselves, but beyond the title of being married, it was not the same. They were not allowed children or any of the real rights provided to 'mundanes.' And there were numerous other rules associated with it. She kept her mouth shut despite her desire to scold the girl, and watched as a trio of mages approached them behind her.

The blond one in the group was scowling at the Templars, while the one with brown hair looked frightened, and the third, an elf, looked about as uneffected as the girl did.

"Come on, Amell, we have to get to our lesson." The elf scolded, and both women jumped at the name. Ophelia's, she hoped, was far less noticable, as she watched the four mages hurry off, the woman giving a wave to the three of them.

She had noticed, with only a little bit of surprise, that the mage who had been glaring at the Templars had shot her a somewhat curious look as he had disappeared around the corner. It was almost flirtatious. She was still frowning in thought when they had disappeared. Amell was her mother's maiden name. Her mother had told her that they had a cousin who had been sent to the Fereldan Circle. Well, in reality, she had been sent to the Kirkwall Circle and her parents had spent all of their money getting her transferred to Fereldan. It was notoriously friendlier to mages. That girl was her cousin, she realized. Perhaps she could find a way to talk to her, see if she's doing alright. How does she like the circle. At least then if Bethany and Damian ever got caught, they would know someone. The dark skinned Templar cleared his throat a little bit, and when she turned her attention towards him, she realized that she wasn't the only one who had been staring at the group.

"If you two are done staring..." He said in a teasing tone. She had the sense not to blush, but the other Templar, Cullen, turned scarlet once again.

And then they had shown her where she would be sleeping that night, which had quickly turned into that week because of a vicious storm, and she had gotten to know her cousin somewhat. Largely by pure chance and luck, and the two had begun exchanging letters then. They had continued exchanging letters up until the Blight had struck. A final letter from Mairwen Amell shortly after she had been recruited into the Grey Wardens. Then nothing, she had not heard a single word from her mage cousin since she had saved Fereldan from the Blight. She likely thought her dead when Lothering was lost, and Ophelia hadn't done anything to dissuade the notion. Shaking her head slightly to clear the memories, she made her way to Darktown.


A/N: Life gets busy and I am bad at updating. Trying not to be. With all my fics. Sorry loves.