Chapter 7 – Secret Friends

Hales

Good news: Carver and I were debt free and in the clear. Bad news: We now had to run from Templars for they were on an active search for apostates. Good news: Athenril set up a meeting with the dwarf heading an expedition to the Deep Roads that could change our lives forever. Bad news: Bartrand didn't want us.

In the last few days before Athenril cleared us, I went up and spoke to Carver. Sure, he was rude and called me 'sister' left, right and centre but he knew that we had to do something about the Templars. The choices were simple: I was to leave Kirkwall, we were to leave Kirkwall or we found something to hide behind. I offered to leave but Carver shook his head, "You've stayed away from home long enough, sister. Mother would explode if you actually left Kirkwall." I think a big part of me wanted to leave. Ferelden was clear of the Blight and though Lothering was a smudge upon the map of Thedas, it was still home, wasn't it? I could rebuild. It had to be better than squatting about in Kirkwall but Mother evidently wanted to stay. She had no intention of leaving Kirkwall and so, I moved back into Gamlen's home.

Mother threw her arms around me in delight when Widge and I knocked upon the front door. She had sobbed into my shoulder, "My girl is finally home!" and I had clung onto her in desperate relief that I was still an accepted part of the family. She admonished, "You will stay home from now on, hear? None of this running around living at some smuggler's hideout!" I was too happy to fight with her though Widge hated the cramped space and had whined sorrowfully.

A few days after that, Carver and I met with Bartrand. The conversation went thus:

"No! Andraste's tits, human! Do you know how many people want to hire onto this expedition?" he spat out, irritated and angry.

Carver tried to convince, "Look, we know you want to go into the Deep Roads. You'll need to hire the best and we're the –"

"No. You're too late. Already done," insisted Bartrand.

"The money from this trip could fix everything!" Carver told him, thinking that Bartrand would understand, "You need us. We've fought darkspawn."

It didn't work. Bartrand snickered, "Look precious. I don't care if you tore the horns off an ogre with your bare hands." It was a sick reminder of Bethany's death. Both Carver and I blanched.

Carver gestured violently to me, "You make him understand. We're running from your bloody Templars."

I rolled my eyes at him and said mockingly, "My brother has a point. It's not his head but it is still valid."

Carver cringed at the term and snarled, "Thanks for that."

"So, how about it Bartrand?" I smiled winningly, "We're just what you need!"

"Looking for a quick way out of the slums right? You and every other Ferelden in this dump!" He strode off, "Find another meal ticket."

Carver rounded on me, "Well. Back to waiting for someone to turn us in."

I sneered at him, thoroughly irritated by how he was constantly trying to pick a fight with me, "It'll get harder if we're constantly at each other's throats."

He made a placating hand gesture and nodded, "I know. It just… seems like you either die in this city or you end up like the scum we're trying to bargain with."

I smiled, trying to reassure him, "Don't worry. I promise we'll find something soon."

He said scornfully, "Yeah? Or is this one of your pretty one-liners that actually mean 'if we don't find something, I'll run off like last time'."

"Carver…" I said in warning, "I did not run off." He didn't argue but his eyes were hard, icy glints. Instead he told me with savagery, "We need coin, status, something that we can shove in that dwarf's face and keep people off our backs. And all I can think of is Uncle Gamlen," he sneered.

I shrugged, "He got us into this city, more or less. If there's a chance he could push Bartrand…" I trailed off.

He nodded, "Worth checking, I suppose. What else can we do?" He looked a little defeated, "We're losing ground and I don't fancy waking up in the Gallows."

As we strode off towards the direction of home, a pickpocket shoved into me. I noticed my missing coin pouch and ran after him, "Hey!"

It all happened so fast. One moment, I was chasing him and the next moment, he was pinned to the wall, an arrow holding him through the loose material by his shoulder. A smooth dulcet voice came through, "I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pocket just by smiling at you. But you?" I watched a dwarf walk up to the pickpocket, holding out his hand, "You don't have the style to work Hightown let alone the Merchant's Guild." The pickpocket handed over my coin pouch. He lowered his voice like he was letting the other in on a secret, "You might want to find yourself a new line of work." I watched, partially dumfounded and amused as the dwarf punched him, pulled out the arrow and strolled off in my direction with a light-hearted, "Off you go."

The dwarf threw the coin pouch in my direction, twiddling the arrow in his right hand and said in a deep voice, "How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service." I liked him immediately and nodded thankfully at him. He had style.

"I apologize for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw," Varric shook his head in mock embarrassment.

I smiled with charm, "But you would?"

He returned my smile, "I would! What my brother doesn't realize is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either," he chuckled out, "He's far too proud but I, however, am quite practical."

"You're part of Bartrand's venture?"

He nodded, "The Deep Roads wouldn't normally be my thing but I couldn't let the head of our family go down there alone. So as you might imagine, I have more than a passing interest in this expeditions successful."

I considered him with a tilt of my head, "You're going awfully far out of your way just to hire another guard…"

"We don't need another hireling, we need a partner. The truth is, Bartrand's been tearing his beard out trying to fund this on his own but he can't do it. Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns and he can't refuse. Not with me there to vouch for you."

"It sounds interesting but if I had the gold, I wouldn't need this job," I told him helplessly.

"You need to think big. There's only a brief window after a Blight when the Deep Roads won't be crawling with darkspawn. The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life," he tried to convince us, his tone dramatic and winning.

"Come on, the dwarf makes some sense," said Carver before adding to Varric, "No offence." He turned back to me, "You started this and it certainly sounds better than ending up in the Gallows."

Varric wheedled, "We work together, you and I and before you know it, you'll have all the capital you need."

"It's not like I had anything better planned," I shrugged.

"Perfect!" Varric stuck his hands out in celebration and I shook his hand, "Kirkwall is crawling with work. You set aside some coin from every job and you'll have the money in no time."

Carver groaned, "Sure. Easy." Then his tone became hopeful, "But maybe Aveline's got some bounties out… and Mother! She's been saving the money you sent."

Varric smiled and chuckled, "Let's go see what trouble we can stir up."

I narrowed my eyes playfully at him, "What makes you so certain we can help? You know nothing about us."

Varric laughed, "On the contrary… you've made quite the name for yourself the past year. The Coterie has been squeezing smugglers out left and right and the only group to survive owes it all to you. The name 'Hawke' is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Ferelden fresh off the boat," he winked at me.

I could help the trill of laughter that came out as I waved him goodbye. I told Carver I'd meet him at home and went off to visit Aveline, knowing that she'd probably have work, even if she didn't want to give it to me. I found her by the rosters in the barracks. I cried out happily, "Aveline!"

She didn't even look at me, "Hello, Hawke."

I looked around awkwardly, feeling a bit stupid and tried for, "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Then she turned, "What? Oh right. Sorry. It feels like we just talked. I've been keeping an eye on you. Information is one of the few perks of being a city guard. Watch out for Bartrand. He's a son of a bitch."

I just finished talking to the man! How did she know about that? I huffed out, "You know I don't like it when you have people watch me."

She was unapologetic, "Saved me camping on your doorstep. After what we went through to get here…" she bowed her head and I understood. She had been really worried about Carver and me, getting mixed up with criminals. She trailed, "Well… you're no child but I take care of my friends."

For that, she was forgiven and I smiled grudgingly. Then she told me, "The places they have me patrolling? I've got time."

I teased her, "A person in your position? Sounds like you'd know some profitable things."

Aveline shook her head at me though her smile gave her away, "You know better than to ask that."

"One day, you'll be frustrated enough to go for it," I quipped.

She complained about her job, how unfulfilling it was and how there were so many problems with the city that she just wasn't allowed to deal with. It wasn't too surprising that she caved in and gave me a job though she insisted that she had to be present.

It ended up being fairly dirty, the Guard Captain Jevan embroiled in corruption and politics. The town criers would surely be talking about it for days. He had been sacrificing his guardsmen and exposing office details and secret accounts for a cut of money. It was valuable information that would have been valuable to a guild of thieves. When Aveline exposed this to the Viscount, it wasn't surprising that Jevan got kicked out of office and along with that news came a lot of positive results.

Good news: We got a lot of coin.

Better news: Aveline became Guard-Captain and she was finally happy with her job.

Even better news: I saw the sparks of romance fly between Aveline and Donnic. It was satisfying to see that Aveline could move on from her past, from Wesley.

The best news yet: She was grateful to me for helping and our friendship grew very much stronger. She had my back.

When Varric had news of a Grey Warden who had Deep Road maps, our group of friends grew. Anders. He was a fellow mage, a gentle-hearted man with tired eyes and a soulful smile. Though our initial encounters were over tragedy and the death of his lover, Karl, it never did detract from our friendship. Neither did the knowledge of his melding with a spirit of Justice. There was something about Anders that spoke to me, something about him that reminded me of Father. I told him that and he had teased, "So, I'm old?"

I shook my head, "No. You just have that something about you. The care and concern for all life as well as other mages, it is very hard to find someone like that in this day and age."

We spent a lot of time together, side by side. He taught me better ways of healing, I gave him reason to enjoy life again despite his fusion with Justice. He shared his experiences of the Circle with me and I told him all about the life of an apostate mage. He was a good friend to me, always there and though my heart continually ached over Carver, he proved to be distraction enough so I could forget sometimes.

Then there was Isabela… now wasn't she a charm? She had an unhealthy obsession, addiction and reliance upon sex but she told the best jokes, had a beautiful heart despite her flaws and taught me to loosen up about life. To my amusement, Carver's eyes could never really stray far from her chest and though I hated to see him looking at another woman like that, I knew it was necessary and never commented. Well, that wasn't until I found out he had been to the Blooming Rose.

Isabela said to him one day, "I saw you at the Blooming Rose the other night."

He had stuttered, "What? No you didn't," and after all these years of knowing him, that translated to 'yes you did'.

"I suppose someone else stole your chin to romance Faith?" Isabela asked with a too innocent tone.

"That's unlikely. She wasn't even working!" Carver said with a flourish, unknowingly stepping into her trap. Two sides warred with me. I hated the fact that he was seeing other people but honestly, the situation was just so funny.

"Mhm. Got you," said Isabela with triumph in her voice.

I teased, "Carver, what would Mother say?"

He stuttered until his entire face turned red.

And finally, there was Fenris, the last of us to join our group for a very long time. His story was heartbreaking. He was a slave, an elf who once had a family but to save them, he sacrificed himself, becoming another's slave. Lyrium was burned into his skin and with that, he lost his memories. He had haunted green eyes and each time I stared into them, I felt my heart break for him a little. Despite being a mage, I asked him to reserve judgement and eventually, he learned to trust me. In some ways, it was our relationship that was the most rewarding and I loved him best out of our little group. Still, I had found a group of friends, my 'family' in some ways and if there were ever a virtue that was missing in the Chantry books, I believed that 'friends' would be the one.

After a few weeks, we were almost at fifty sovereigns. Mother had saved a great deal of the money I had sent her and after the jobs Aveline had sent my way, the loot found on quests with Isabela, a few sovereigns contributed by Fenris and even a task now and again to help Anders, we were almost there. We were only a few sovereigns short… but we were also running out of tasks.

One night I came home to find Mother and Carver fighting with Gamlen. Mother was raising her voice, as close to shouting as she ever really got, "My children have been in servitude. Servitude! They should be nobility!"

Gamlen had retorted, "If wishes were poppies, we'd all be dreaming."

I consoled and placated, "This is the way things are, Mother. There's nothing Gamlen can do about it now."

Uncle sneered at me, "Your Mother was supposed to marry the Comte de Launcet, instead, she ran off with your Ferelden apostate of a Father!" He turned to Mother, "You don't get to stay the favourite when you run off and do something like that."

Mother insisted, "Where is Father's will? If I could just see for myself!"

There was something fishy about the way Gamlen said, "It isn't here, alright? It was read, and returned to the vault. We didn't need to go looking at it again."

I asked, "Did Grandfather mention Mother in the will at all?"

"Our Father died when you were still soiling yourself, girl. You can hardly expect me to remember," he said snidely.

Carver and I exchanged a look and he sneered back, "Oh. Of course not. Why should you do something reasonable?"

I tried to be pleasant, "Please Uncle. We have a right to see it for ourselves."

Gamlen relented, "Maybe so but that won't happen. It's still locked in the bloody vault, in the estate and that is long out of my hands."

I choked on laughter as Carver threw his hands up in the air, "What daft bastard leaves that behind?"

"It was old news," said Gamlen, his hand gesturing rudely, "You think I've been sitting here for all these years waiting for Leandra to slink back?"

"Who bought the estate, Gamlen? Was it the Rhinehart's?"

The feeling came again. Something was fishy in Gamlen's reponse, "No one you know. Get used to Lowtown, sister. That's where we're going to stay."

I spoke to Carver after that fight later on that night, wanting to hear his more private opinions. He groaned in exasperation, "Maker, what a mess. I want to make things better for Mother… but some of what Gamlen says… I'm having a hard time hating him. Playing caretaker for someone else's life, stuck in their shadow… that's no way to live."

I turned away when he said that, knowing that he understood that feeling after playing caretaker for Mother during the year I spent at Athenril's base. I also knew he hated being second best to me and after I had made a name out for myself, 'Hawke' referred to me rather than him. I was thankful he didn't know I was adopted. The consequences would be severe. Still, I asked him gently, "Something you need to say?"

He shook his head, "Look, if you want to join the fight of who lost the most. Fine. But I never lived here." He shrugged helplessly, "Mother even gave me her old key to see if I could stir something up but I didn't know Grandfather. Finding his will doesn't matter to me."

I pulled him out of the house by the arm, wanting some privacy knowing Gamlen was close by. We sat down by the steps of the house and it was almost like we were back in Lothering but everything had changed. No one was as we once were. I said quietly, "She tried her best to give us what we needed. I think she's due the same. Not to mention," I added, "Maybe this will help you find the connection you are looking for."

Carver nodded, "I do see her side, Hales. Gamlen is definitely an ass but it isn't like we can just ask slavers to give back that house."

I frowned, "What have you heard?"

Carver gestured, "Uncle's a chatty drunk. He was up to his neck and signed everything over. That's who has the estate. Apparently, the most extensive wine cellar in Kirkwall is now a slave highway from the undercity. That's the family legacy," he ended bitterly.

I smiled at him, adventure sparkling in my mind, "I think we need to pay them a visit and look for Mother's paperwork."

He scoffed, "Oh yes, they'll be right neighbourly about letting us poke around."

I told him with a saccharine sweet tone, "We'll give them that chance. Sure."

Carver's blue eyes locked with mine and he touched my hand briefly, "You sure you're up to this? For a while there…"

I nodded, "I can handle it now, we've been doing a few jobs with the others. It helped. For so long, I kept seeing-"

"Bethany. I know. All that blood," he finished for me as I continually nodded, "Alright, Hales. If the key works, we'll clear the estate. From the undercity and up."

The two of us stared at each other for a moment, excitement in our blood and laughter in our voices. I had stayed away from Carver for so long, it felt so good just to be with him. We raced towards Darktown, sprinting all the way. It was so foolish, there could have been anyone lurking about in Lowtown much less Darktown but we got lucky. Outside Anders' clinic, we found the cellar doors. When Carver turned the key into the lock and it clicked audibly before the grate swung free, we shared another look of anticipation and went in without thought.

Carver

I could hear my heart pounding but it wasn't from fear, it wasn't even from nerves. It was pure adrenaline, egging me on. I wanted to hit something. I was the strength behind our attack, she was the meticulous one, ensuring we kept our enemies in front of us the whole time. Whatever the case, we were back to back, fighting for our lives together.

Inside, there was no such time to offer the slavers a chance to get out and let us snoop. They attacked on sight. And each of us found out first hand just how much each of us had improved in our individual talents over the course of one year. Her spells were stronger, my attacks more fierce, her magic was more intense, my slicing all the faster.

Blood spilled in pools yet neither of us felt sick. It felt good to find something worthwhile to do. I thrust my sword cleanly into one man's chest and swiftly pulled it out to behead another. Alongside, Hales froze one, burned another and all the while, the two of us laughed, drunk on that feeling of unity. It was us against the world and Maker, it was good to have her back.

We didn't actually end up cleaning out the entire house. That would have taken too long. We found the vault and figured that would be good enough. We just needed to get out. We found coin, amulets, new staves, lots of random knick knacks that would surely push us over the fifty sovereigns mark and finally, the chests within the vault. There were more sovereigns, more jewels and even a few heirlooms that I was certain Mother would love. When Hales lifted a well preserved document from the chest, I concluded, "So that's it. Grandfather's will? Let's just take it back to Mother and be done with it."

She gave the will a once over and I saw her expression brighten as she said with triumph, "No point delaying the news!"

As we went back home, we woke everyone up. Mother looked at the cuts and bruises all over us, horrified as she exclaimed, "Where have the two of you been?"

Hales smiled, the highs of battle still in her eyes, "We found the will," she said, her voice slithering over me. I shivered in delight. If that's what she sounded like when she felt drunk, I wanted to know how she sounded when she was wracking with pleasure.

I tried to focus on the task at hand and after clearing my throat, I told Mother almost breathlessly, "Grandfather left everything to Mother and us. It seems he had some sense after all. See for yourself!" I passed the documents to Mother.

Gamlen looked around for an excuse to leave as she read, "To my daughter, Leandra and all children borne of her, the estate in Hightown and all associated revenues!"

Hales giggled in delight and I nearly laughed at her excitement, still drunk on adrenaline as she said, "We have a home, Mother! A real home!"

No one seemed to notice how inebriated we were from adrenaline and Mother had carried on in revelation, "They forgave me. Mother forgave me! But…" she turned to her brother, "Gamlen! How could you?"

He pointed the finger back at her, "You ran away, Leandra. What happened to 'love is so much more important than money'?" he sneered.

"It is!"

"You didn't even come home for the funeral!"

"The twins were a week old!"

"We all have our burdens. Mine was looking after a life you abandoned! How long was I supposed to wait?"

I interrupted, "You probably didn't even wait for the ashes to cool off."

"I took care of Father. I stayed!" He insisted, "And on his deathbed, all he could talk about was Leandra!" That struck a chord within me. When Father died, he had barely spoken to me. I had been away but… would everyone's mind only linger upon Hales and never upon me?

"Sister, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it but I did," he said, "And there is nothing I can do to get it back!"

"I don't expect that Gamlen. It's enough to know that they forgave me and didn't die angry. I'll petition the Viscount for rights to reclaim the estate. Maker willing, you'll even get your house back within weeks!"

Gamlen said in an exasperated tone, "You don't have the coin or standing to even get an audience with the Viscount. You need to be someone in this city to live in that house again."

Mother told him with a superior tone, "Then I had better get started."

When that conversation was over, whatever highs I was feeling were over. Gamlen… he didn't have the best life either and I understood that feeling of not being good enough in front of your parents. He was a man exhausted by life and I hoped that I would never be like him. I needed to find my own way. Everything we were doing, it didn't seem worthwhile to me. And because I couldn't sleep, I stared into the fire, not knowing what my next step should be.

I heard her trilling voice break into my thoughts, "Thinking about what life will be like in Hightown?"

I snorted derisively, "We're still a long way from that, I think. A long way from scaring Templars with our title…"

It was obvious that I broke her good mood. Good, I thought savagely. She sighed, "Is there something you'd do differently, Carver?"

I continued to look into the fire, "It isn't up to me. We're just trying to recover an old name for an old woman. And when we're done," I shrugged, "I don't know. I guess we'll sit around thinking about how great we used to be."

She said nothing and I turned around to tell her, "Mother didn't even want that life until we got dumped here," then I accused, "And you're only interested because the Templars are on your back."

Hales looked like she wanted to slap me, "Very well, Carver." She looked down her nose at me, which was considerably difficult, given the fact that I was much taller than her, "What's your plan? I did offer to leave Kirkwall."

"I would start afresh. Try new things. Fix the things that went wrong rather than look for ancient names," I told her, waving my hands about because I didn't actually know what I was saying. The on-and-off attraction to her was really strange. When she made me feel inferior, I hated her. She was the irritating sister I was supposed to have rather than a potential lover. Just like now.

Hales shook her head, "Start afresh? What do you think we're doing here? Yes, we got dumped into Kirkwall because there was a Blight but that's what we're trying to do. We're trying to fix the wrong things so we can build a new life here! These ancient names seem silly but it might give us a real home!" she emphasized.

"We had a home. In Lothering," I told her, "And if you'd done it properly, we wouldn't have to leave." I just wanted to vent, blame her for everything that went wrong.

She took it without blanching and replied, "If I could go back, I'd stop the Blight single-handedly too and maybe I'd be able to save Bethany." Her eyes were sad, the fire that was reflected in her eyes seemed weak and downtrodden, "That's what it comes down to really, isn't it? The problem is going back was never an option for us."

Hales turned to walk away and I called out to her, "Hales." She stopped in her steps but didn't look back at me and I confessed, "I feel… I don't know," I shrugged to myself, "It's like Mother taking it out on us. She's just scared." As she turned, I revealed my innermost feelings, "I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back for us. I'll be here if you need me but sooner or later, I need to find my own way." She nodded, understanding in her eyes.

She came back to me the next day, a stack of letters in her hand. "Here," she passed the bundle of yellowing parchment to me, "I got you something."

After the way our previous conversation went, I asked her suspiciously, "Why?"

Hales smiled, wistful and sad, "I hated the way we ended our last conversation. It was tense and… I wanted to fix that." She didn't have to do something like that, I thought to myself, instantly guilty over my earlier suspicions.

I flicked through the ancient paper, "These are by Father?" I asked her, "Are you sure they aren't meant for you?" Most of the words were about random mage topics and I told her, "I bet another mage could get more out of them."

She took the stack and fumbled through whilst shaking her head, pressing what must have been a particularly important note on top of the bundle before passing it to me. I read out loud, "For your service that cannot be admitted, I ask that you accept this trinket and know that I shall respect your name. Thank you, conscience of the Order, Ser Maurevar… Carver", I finished in recognition and looked up at her in shock, "Carver?"

Hales eyes gleamed with happiness, "He was the Templar who allowed Father to leave Kirkwall. Your namesake!"

"A Templar?" I asked in confusion, "Have we met a Templar who isn't a colossal prig?"

She laughed, clearly amused, "Father must have felt he was worth honouring."

I read through some of the words and realized, "A man who let him look ahead and a name that would always mean 'skill thoughtfully applied'."

"Seems like he thought it held some promise," she murmured and I could see it in her eyes that this was more than just a simple gift. She was trying to give me purpose, to give me a past and a future.

"Not a link back, but how to go forward," I said quietly, grateful for her thoughtfulness, "That's what I was to him." I turned to her and shifted, "I… don't know what to say. Except… thank you. You didn't have to do this for me."

She stared into the fire, "I know you've been finding it difficult here in Kirkwall, with everything that we've been doing. There's no connection for you and I thought this would be appropriate. Father –" her voice broke and her eyes became misty, "He believed in that Templar. Father trusted in Ser Maurevar Carver and he must have named you in the hopes that you would always apply your skills thoughtfully."

As the fire began to die down, some spurts of flames flickered from her fingertips. When she was done, she smiled, touched my arm and spoke in hushed tones, "And just as Father placed his faith in the Templar, this gift is my faith in you – that one day, you'll do as Father predicts and leave a few craters in this world."

"Hales…" I said her name, trying to tell her how grateful I was. The warmth of her faith spread right through my body, my chest swelled and all this emotion overwhelmed me. It was unstoppable. Hales shook her head, waving aside my words, trying to tell me it wasn't necessary, "It's fitting really. After all, you're the only one out of the three of us that ever wanted to do something considered worthwhile."

I scoffed but gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings, "Oh come off it. You've been noticed for all those jobs with Athenril!"

She nodded, "Noticed, sure but I never wanted that. I wanted what Bethany would have had. A simple life. I never wanted to do anything 'worthwhile'," she lifted her fingers in the air, crooking them to make quote signs, "That's firmly in your territory."

I asked her curiously, "Why do you keep saying that?"

Her eyes flicked to me, fingers winding into her chain, the amulet I had given her flashing around her neck before her eyes went back to the fire, "You think I don't see it? The way your face changes when Mother and Gamlen argue and you realize that you can't hate Gamlen because he was in her shadow their whole lives? You think I don't realize the empathy you feel for the man because you feel like you're in my shadow?"

Maker, she saw everything. I felt like an open book for her to read. I shifted uncomfortably whilst she stood still and unmoving. It was disconcerting to see her so calm. I told her resentfully, "I am in your shadow."

"I never wanted that," was her simply reply.

"You don't want to do worthwhile things?"

She shrugged, "Depends on what your definition of worthwhile is. Being loved is worthwhile to me. Loving someone is worthwhile to me. The rest seems pointless." Though her words made sense literally speaking, it felt like she was talking about things that I didn't know about, "I don't want to change the world. I don't want to do great things." Her eyes had glazed over, like she was remembering a sad and distant memory.

I was reminded of that conversation we had, in which Hales had told me, "I only need one person to think I'm beautiful. For now, it is Bethany. One day, it'll be a man. And I'll only ever need one."

I asked her, "Is being loved so important to you? Don't you have enough of that already?"

One corner of her mouth twitched and her eyes flicked to me in awareness. I knew her next answer was a brush off, "I'm just saying. It's not necessarily a complaint."

So many secrets. Why was she always hiding things? And what could it be? She had lived a mostly sheltered life, what could have happened to her that gave her such a haunted look in her eyes?

Hales

As Varric had said, Bartrand could hardly refuse my generous offer of Deep Roads maps and fifty sovereigns. It took very little persuading before he said to me gruffly, "Tie whatever loose ends you have and come find me when you're ready to leave."

I told him we were ready anytime and our group would leave the following day. I gave them pretty little notice, barely a day but all of them were ready to come with me at the drop of a hat. Knowing that I would be away from home for at least a short while, I took the time to speak with Mother.

We sat in the corner of Gamlen's house and I told her about the news, "Bartrand is letting us go on that expedition. When I come home, we should have a lot of gold and plenty of treasures. We'll be noticed and we'll get that audience we need."

She deviated from the subject, reminiscing about the past, "When I told your Grandmother I was going to marry your Father, she threatened to disown me. She told me my children would be mongrels. Father wanted to lock me in but she told him, 'It's her life, let her ruin it.' I wrote to her now and again but she never wrote me back. I'm glad she didn't die hating me."

I blinked, ill equipped to handle such a situation. I fingered my necklace and tried to offer, "Grandmother didn't want you to leave. I imagine she was trying to hold you in the only way she knew how."

Mother smiled, her eyes glinting with pride, "She would have been so proud of you. You're everything she wanted in an Amell grandchild. She might have had a hard time accepting it at first but she would have loved you. All three of you." Then she sobbed, "Oh Bethany, she was such a sweet little girl. Never cried… just looked at you with those sweet eyes." She stared back into the fire, at a loss.

I nodded, "She was so young to be taken from us."

Mother paced, face in her hands, "I keep thinking that there was something that we could have done. It's killing me. I… I remember that awful creature reaching down and… Seventeen years of loving and feeding and raising and… that was it."

I embraced her, rubbing her back, "Blame the darkspawn. Not yourself."

She tried to explain, "The darkspawn would have been happy with any prey. It was my fault it was Bethany. I – I miss her. There were the five of us when the Blight first began. It'll never be over whilst there are just three."

"The pain will ease," I said to her, "After all, there was little that could have been done. Bethany… she wouldn't want to see you like this."

Mother nodded, eventually calming herself to tell me, "I've written to the Viscount. I've an audience for after Bartrand's expedition leaves. I couldn't do anything for Bethany but with some luck, I can at least give us a home."

I encouraged, "That's great news!"

Her eyes were sad, gesturing to the distance between her and me, "I want to thank you. I know for a while there, I seemed like I really resented you but it wasn't like that. I just didn't know –"

I waved her words aside, taking her hands in mine, "I know… I wouldn't know how to deal with it either… You did your best and we're fine now so let's not linger in the past."

If she had wanted me to replace Bethany's death, I understood. After all, I wasn't of her blood. If she didn't, I also understood. After all, I wouldn't be able to deal with my child's death whilst losing everything all at once. It was in the past and I didn't want to upset her anymore.

Still, I wanted someone to love me unconditionally and a part of me would always doubt if anyone ever really understood me but sometimes, life is the way it is and you can't argue or fight with it, especially not when you've been so blessed already. I didn't have to have a family – it's a gift not a Maker given right. I didn't have to find a Father to love me. I could have ended up a stranded orphan on the street, sold into slavery or killed by beasts.

That night, I couldn't sleep from the excitement of the Deep Roads expedition and from across the room, I could hear Carver twisting on his bed. "You awake?" he asked in a brusque tone.

I nodded into my pillow, "Couldn't sleep," I answered.

I heard him groan, climb out of bed and pad towards the door. He asked me, "You coming?" As I rolled myself out of bed, I thought to myself that his question wasn't really much of a question at all. The little brat was ordering me! I went outside, shivering slightly and he was no where to be found. I hissed, "Carver!"

A ladder dropped down beside me and I jumped a foot in the air. After a softly muttered oath, I climbed up, joining him on the roof of our Lowtown house. In the distance, I saw the small torches of firelight that had been lit and the Kirkwall moonlight was just as bright as the one in Ferelden. I rubbed at my arms, thinking that my thin shift bore out too much of my arms and legs for me to be outside on a chilly autumn night.

"I spoke to Aveline today," Carver revealed, "she lectured me. Said I was 'too bloody proud to take up a trade'." Then he sighed, "She doesn't get it. I told her that no one would hire me, that I'd be a pissboy after two years and she just gave me that look. The look parents give their kids when an excuse is being used."

I shrugged, "She's trying to look out for you. She sends people to watch me. It's irritating but I know she does it for the right reasons."

He snickered, "She doesn't actually think this expedition will pay off, you know."

"It might not," I told him.

"You realize that Varric isn't about to go into the Deep Roads if there wasn't profit to be made. The dwarf knows what he's up against," he insisted.

I shrugged, "You're probably right but there's always a slight chance."

"Minimal," he argued.

I agreed with him, "True," and then he fell silent.

The night was calm unlike the flurry of nerves within me. Stars were up ahead, ever as silent, ever as constant, ever as slow in their movements. I wanted to know how this expedition would turn out… now. I tried to even out my breaths, keeping myself from hyperventilating.

"So…" he said after a while, trying to break the silence, "You've amassed a group of friends."

And because he sounded so sulky, I nudged him, "They are your friends, too. I've seen the way you talk to Varric, argue with Aveline, you beat Fenris at Wicked Grace the other night and you eye Isabela's chest the way Widge eyes meat in the markets."

He said defensively but with a slight abruptness that nearly made me smile, "Yeah? Well, you don't get to complain about that!"

"I'm not complaining," I told him, "It's not a bad thing." Not really anyway. He needed to grow up properly and not get involved with someone he thought was his blood sister.

He accused in a rather jealous tone, "You've got a lover, don't you? That's why you're so bloody calm about it!"

I laughed at him, fingers hooked on my necklace, "Honestly Carver, do you actually think I've had time to have a lover? I honestly don't have your energy to go to the Blooming Rose after everything we run around doing during the day."

Carver swore at me, "Fuck! Do you have to bring that up?"

I shrugged, trying to pretend it didn't even matter, "What's the big deal?"

He snarled, "Don't give me that shit. Women hate it when their men see other women even if they aren't together."

I diverted the topic, "I really hate how you say that. It's sexist. Men hate it too." I couldn't help the strange satisfaction that sang inside me, the way he implied that he was still mine despite not being with me.

I was beneath him in a second, his heated body pinning me against the contrasting coolness of the tile as he snarled some more, "Yes I do hate it. I hate it when you so much as look at another man that isn't me." I nearly melted, I wanted to be beneath him, wanted to curl my arms around his neck and push my body up against his. Then I froze, belatedly realizing what I had almost done. My arms were already up, almost wrapped around him and upon realizing my thoughts, I tried to push at his shoulders. I was supposed to shove him off me, I realized. He was prepared, tensed and ready to resist my movements. He listed, "Anders. Fenris. Sometimes even Varric. And I hate how Isabela looks at you like you're something to eat!"

I reminded him, "Isabela's actually a woman. Unless she's got something she isn't telling us about."

He scowled at me, "Shut up!" before he leaned down. I quickly turned my head to the side so his lips would land on my cheek. I told him, "Don't kiss me. I'm your sister!" I told him, "Doesn't that mean anything to you at all?" I asked him, incredulous at his responses.

He stared into my eyes, "It was never like that for me," he revealed, thinking of words to explain, "You and Bethany… the two of you were sisters. Me and Beth… we were twins and we were siblings and it felt like that too but us? I've been reminding myself everyday for as long as I can remember that we're siblings but you're not."

I froze, thinking that maybe he knew the truth and then relaxed as he said, "No matter what the truth is, it has never felt that way. We grew up together, we're family but whenever I called you 'sister', all I wanted to do was cringe. You're my sister but you have never felt like one to me."

I groaned, frustrated that he wasn't getting it, "That isn't an excuse!" I nearly shouted.

Carver was angry, livid that I had teased him about Isabela, fuming from my rejection and he pushed, "I don't really care. Don't kiss you? Fine." His hands gripped my waists and dragged them down, making me shiver in unwanted pleasure as he hissed into my ear, "There are other things I can do to you."

And because I needed to stop him, because I wanted him to touch me, because if I stayed under him a moment longer, I would have begged him to touch me, I said to him with an indifferent tone, "Learn some new tricks from the Blooming Rose, did you?"

He was off me in a second, "Fuck you," loudly thrown into my face.

I got no sleep that night.

Anders came to pick me up in the morning and I could hear him outside talking to my Mabari as I was readying my satchel. "Stop looking at me," he complained, "I- I really don't like all this… open… slobbery affection."

Widge barked, happy just to be getting some positive attention. Anders was a softie on the inside. I was certain Widge could sense it.

"Be a real pet! Ignore me until you want something and then…" he trailed before suggesting, "sit on my head!"

I nearly chuckled as Widge whined, not knowing whether to take Anders seriously or not. If Widge sat on Anders' head… Goodness, Anders would have a concussion for a week!

Anders sighed mournfully, "I miss Ser Pouce-a-lot."

If it weren't for the fact that Anders lived in Darktown, it would be good to get the man a cat. Maker knows he needed the company of something other than sick patients.

I walked into the living room, smiling tiredly at Anders, "Good morning… what are you doing here?"

He frowned at the dark circles beneath my eyes before embracing me, kissing my cheek in platonic affection as he did every time we saw each other, "Good morning sunshine, I thought I'd pick you up before we met up with Bartrand."

I carefully avoided Carver's constant glowering as the three of us left for Hightown.

A/N: I'm really enjoying writing about the dynamic between Hawke/Carver. What about the rest of you? Please R&R!

A shout out to Mistress Vo for editing my work!

Love, Ann