Marching on the edge of the highway, Hawke kept her hood up, and her hound trotted close against her leg. The road was dry, and little tufts of dirt kicked up with her steps, quickly blowing away in the oceanic breeze. The shrubs around the road were brown, and the scant trees were starting to change colour.

The mabari lifted his muzzle into the air, skipping a few paces forward as he sniffed and swivelled. Hawke continued on, arms crossed as she looked at the clouds. The hound huffed a low woof and pranced around.

"I don't like the look of the clouds either, boy," she quietly said.

The mabari made a dubious sound and shook his head, jogging farther ahead as he sniffed again, nose lifting up.

"Oh for the love of... you better not be all excited about rolling in some dead rabbit agai- hey!" Hawke's hood dropped as she jogged forward, hearing her mabari woof again before he began to run more earnestly. "No, your grace! Sit!" When the dog hesitated and looked back to her, she grumbled and began to run after him. "Bloody dog!"

As Hawke struggled to catch up before stopping in the road to yell, "Alright, your grace, where are you?"

There was a brief clip of laughter, and Hawke darted into the trees to follow it. A yelp followed, and she emerged into a small clearing, she saw her hound pulling down on Anders' shirt.

"Alright, yeesh, I - Marian," Anders said as he looked up, and the dog let go as he stepped into her advance. He wrapped her in his arms, lips in her hair as he murmured, "What are you doing here?"

"Me? We both knew where I was going," she replied, turning to hush her mabari as he barked. "Why aren't you at the inn? Maker... if not for his grace."

"There were... complications," Anders said, running his hand down her cheek and shaking his head as he rubbed her chin. "You're better without the beard. Not that I minded that much."

"And what about you," Hawke said with a grin, scratching his scruff. "I just haven't had the time to reapply it."

Expression softening, Anders tugged her up into his lips, and Hawke made a muffled sound as they kissed, before she could finally pull away. The sky rumbled and drops began to fall.

"That's all fine and lovely, but we need to find shelter."

"I love you," Anders said, thumbing the droplets of rain over her cheek.

Hawke looked back up at him, and a smirk slowly formed as she said, "I've missed you. You can tell me all the lovely details when we're somewhere out of the rain."

Down in the lee of a hill some time later, Hawke flapped her oilskin cloak over the lattice of eroded rock to block the rain. She crawled into the small space with him as her mabari huffed and lay down just outside, ears flattened in displeasure.

"You lost the toss, your grace," Hawke said as she leant and smacked his hindquarters. The hound turned his face away in reply, looking over the hills nearby. "Sore loser, he is."

Anders just shook his head, summoning a fire to warm them as he looked at her, "You do cheat."

"Well, maybe sometimes," Hawke said under her breath, peering comically at the dog before smiling. Sighing she pushed her piled armour out of the way and laid back in the small space, watching the clouds further darken the sky. Anders reclined beside her, and they watched the rain.

"Aveline is pregnant," she said in a loud whisper.

"Really? That... that..." Anders' words trailed away and he swallowed thickly. "Talk about timing, right?"

"I know, I mean if anyone, they deserve it," Hawke chuckled, and her hand dragged to slip into his grasp. "The Divine's army is rallying to march."

"We - I heard," Anders quietly said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Hawke's hand. Drawing a slow breath, he tentatively said, "Marian... maybe I have no place to ask, maybe I destroyed something when I gave it back to you but..."

Hawke rolled her head to rest on Anders' shoulder, waiting as he gathered his thoughts.

"May I have the amulet back?"

Sitting up too quickly, Hawke smacked her head on the rock over head, and sharply cried out, "Maker's balls! Agh." She pulled her hand away, looking at the bit of blood there before she looked at him and oddly chuckled. "Do you really want it, Anders? I don't know if I could stomach you giving it back again."

"I do," Anders quickly said, and followed with, "I won't."

Sitting up with greater care, Hawke reached around her neck and tugged the amulet from where it was hidden under her shirt.

"Marian," Anders sighs, reaching up to heal her head. "How are you even in one piece? Already bleeding."

"I pretended I was someone else," Hawke waggled her brow, clasping her mother's necklace around Anders' neck. She touched the amulet there, expression uncommonly tender. "Be mine?"

"Any of the good in me," Anders said, and he sat up to kiss her, tangling his fingers into the base of her hair. Their tongues twined and Hawke dragged her hand along his chest, shifting to straddle his waist. When he fit his hand to the curve of her breast, she ground their hips together, and promptly smacked her head again.

"Shit!" Hawke said, jaw dropping as she clutched her head. Laughter bubbled in her throat, "Sorry. I'm an idiot."

"It's why I love you," Anders sighed, pulling her back down beside him. He granted his healing touch once more, before wiping away the blood. "No more of that, mm?"

"No guarantees," Hawke murmured, and he kissed her cheek. She reached for his hand again, and curled in against his side, placing her head safely in the crook of his shoulder. The heavens rumbled, and her mabari harrumphed in reply, rolling on his side to stare out from their den.

After a while, Anders quietly said, "I've been a Grey Warden almost a decade now, you know."

"And here you always told me you'd traded in that lot," Hawke whispered, dragging her fingers over his abdomen.

"Some parts of it you can't walk away from."

"Like anything, it lingers with us, aye."

Anders cradled her closer, kissing her hair as he said, "it's unfair for you to lose so much for me."

"I thought we'd gotten past this," Hawke said, almost sitting up. Putting out a hand to feel where the rock overhang was, she looked down at him and kissed his chin. "Anders, I am used to running with free mages."

"Not apostates?"

"No," Hawke smirked. "Someone kept telling me it had negative connotations." As Anders smiled, she touched the amulet around his neck again. "Anders, I love you. And I'm not going to any prison. And I've no desire for a noose around my neck."

"I'm going to die a lot sooner than most people," he blurted.

"Hasn't Varric been saying that for years?" Hawke tilted her head, sinking back into the comfortable spot at his side. Nudging her chin against his chest, she murmured, "Yet here you are."

"That's not what I meant." Anders plied his fingers over her shoulder, staring at the stone overhead. "Being a Grey Warden... is a death sentence."

"Well... how long do you have then?"

"Now?" Anders inhaled slowly before quietly saying, "Twenty years at most. Maybe less before..."

Hawke arched her brow.

"Before I succumb to the taint," Anders whispered, tilting his lips against her forehead. He closed his eyes as she ran her hands over his chest and stomach again. "Most go into the Deep Roads to die fighting rather than become what they give up their lives to hunt."

The sound of the rain filled the space between the next words, and a flicker in the sky illuminated the clouds. The rumble followed some time later, a grumpy growl of disquiet.

Eyes refocusing again, Hawke exhaled and said, "Really, do you honestly think I'll outlive you by that much? How will I survive without the most talented healer in Thedas to patch me up?" She poked his abdomen. "You've seen what kind of life I lead."

Anders chuckled quietly, nuzzling her forehead, "Perhaps. Is that supposed to be a comfort, love?"

"It doesn't matter," Hawke murmured, closing her eyes and exhaling. "I'll be there either way. I'll take whatever I can get. However long it lasts."

"Ostwick," Varric said under his breath. He huffed a bit as he said, "Didn't think we'd make it."

"I knew you'd get us here," Bethany quietly said as they approached the city gates.

"Anything for you, Sunshine," Varric smiled with a strain and took her arm. "Now just play the part and try and look fat for a change."

"What?"

"Shh," Varric hushed with a grin, and when the guards flagged him down he flashed his clan ring. "It is good to find the fine city of Ostwick, my friend. I'm with the Merchant's Guild - Tethras family. We lost nearly everything on the road - scarce got away with our lives."

"A fortunate turn," the guard gruffly replied. "Your papers?"

"Please," Varric said, clapping a few gold soveriegns in the man's hand, "my steward's wife is with child, he will be eager to see her alive and well. We will be no burden on your good city, and my family is no doubt worried."

The guard palmed the coins as he glanced over the pair, "Best be on your guard, the city's in turmoil since the Teryn died - just mind your business."

"That's what a merchant does best." Varric smirked and bowed, before leading Bethany on through the city gates.

When they were up the street and out of earshot, Varric said, "I almost sound like I know what I'm doing."

"Don't let it go to your head," Bethany chuckled, looking down. "So where are we going to go?"

Varric chuckled tiredly and led them on as he said, "I know just the place."

"Right then! We'd best stay off the road - since we're murdering fugitives, and all." Hawke said as led the way through the sparse, dry hills. The mabari at her side made a dubious sound. "I beg your pardon, good ser?"

"You do know you're going the wrong way." Anders said, strolling after her with his arms crossed.

"Nonsense."

"Trust me, sweetheart. I got pretty good at finding my way around, with all the times I escaped the Circle."

"Impertinence? Not what I would have expected of you," Hawke said as she stopped, trying to keep a straight face. "You shall have to be flogged."

Anders laughed softly, "I'd like to see you try."

"Don't tempt me, mage," Hawke pointed at him, following as he turned around. "You'll regret saying that. I won't forget it."

"I'm sure," Anders chuckled.

Hawke slowly smiled as they walked, catching up to him as she said, "I don't think I ever get tired of hearing your laughter. I remember when you didn't."

"Well, you were persistent."

Hawke sighed, obviously pleased with herself. "I was, wasn't I?" She reached for his arm, giving him a squeeze. "Probably best. I was leading us away from the men tracking us."

Anders halted, but she tugged him onward as he said, "There – there are men following us?"

"Yes, I thought I'd lost them before his grace found you," Hawke said and sighed. "I did for a bit, but it seems they've gotten persistent."

"Were you planning on telling me?"

Hawke smiled sweetly and kissed the bearded curve of his jaw before she said, "I didn't think it worth worrying you, dearest. No, no, don't look. They aren't that obvious, you know."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"I'll think of something," Hawke sucked in her bottom lip, staring at the horizon as they picked up their pace. At her side, her mabari grumbled and she reached down to pat him. There was a whizz through the air, and a bolt graced between them. "That decides that. Try and hit my dog, hmm?"

As Hawke drew her blade, the assassins were upon them. Her mabari snarled and leapt at the nearest man, catching his arm and jerking it with a sickening pop. The man screamed, and when he faltered, the dog finished him off. Behind Hawke, Anders conjured a crack of ice and hit the man advancing on him.

"Do you know who you're fucking with?" Hawke snarled as she punted the man she fought in the loins. He steeled himself but staggered, deflecting her advance and stabbing her quickly. Cursing, she slashed across his throat before he could reply. Turning away, she leapt upon another attacker fuddled by lightning and fire, and the man's scream cut away as she buried her daggers deep in his kidneys.

The last pair tried to escape, but Hawke caught one, and as Anders paralyzed them, she threw the assassin to the ground. Tearing their hood off, Hawk found herself eye to eye with a Rivaini woman.

"The other's getting away," Anders breathlessly said. His grace bounded around them, snuffing between the bodies.

"Leave him," Hawke said, pressing her dagger up under the chin of the woman. "How did you find us? Who sent you?"

"Hang-Hanged Man," the woman choked, before her mouth filled with blood and her eyes glazed. Hawke growled to herself and rose, pacing as she looked to where the other had run. They were out of sight.

"You went to the Hanged Man," Anders said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Perhaps," Hawke said under her breath, kicking dirt on the fallen woman.

"What were you thinking!"

Hawke wiped off her blades and said, "I was thinking I could use a drink, that's what?" She cringed, and flipped open her armour, showing where one of the blades hand grazed her back.

Anders made a frustrated sound, turning to light the bodies on fire.

"They weren't supposed to recognize me! I had a beard, Anders," Hawke laughed, sucking a breath through her teeth as she touched the wound again. She whimpered and looked at him with pleading eyes. "I was manly, I promise."

Ensuring the bodies were unrecognizable, Anders doused the flames with ice and cast a cursory glance at the wound. "You're fine. I should let you suffer, maybe it'd teach you a lesson."

"But Anders, pleaaaaase," Hawke pleaded, holding her ground. "Do you reaaaaally want to listen to me allll the way to Ostwick? You'd leave me in pain?"

"You can walk," Anders replied, smirking. "You'll just have to trust me that you'll be fine."

Hawke held her ground and whimpered, "Aaaaanders."

Patting his leg, Anders turned away, still smirking. "Come on, your grace." The hound stared at Hawke a moment before huffing indignantly and following him.