AN: Heh, wow, quick update I know.
But this chapter was such a joy to write that I got it done without many hindrances. Things will be less fighty here for a while and a little more domestic, which I am exponentially more comfortable with writing. Nice change of pace.
Anywho, please enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!
-Ms.P
They had never been so happy to smell Lowtown smog.
Fenris and Anders parted from them at the gate; eager to hide their riches in their respective hovels and topple into their own beds. Sebastian walked them to the suspension bridge that would lead to the main street of Lowtown. Once there he bowed quite formally and kissed Hawke's hand, promising to see her soon and explain all. Isabela, Varric, and Merrill trailed after Hawke as they shouldered their way through the Lowtown masses; clutching their packs close to their chests with all the precious cargo inside. Once they approached the Hanged Man, it was agreed that Hawke and Merrill would leave their treasure with Varric as neither of them had very dependable hiding spots in their less than secure homes. They helped lug the cumbersome things up to Varric's suite and tossed them in a hidden closet behind a removable portion of the wall. The dwarf promised to help them get their finances in order soon; they all just needed some time to rest and relax at home. A date was set for a gathering in the tavern; letters would be sent to the other members of their team- excluding Fenris who they knew could not read, he would get a messenger that was hopefully not slain on sight when knocking on his door.
Isabela wrapped Hawke up in a very busty embrace and planted a kiss right on her lips, a thank you for the funds to buy several ships, if she so chose. Varric gave Hawke a tired smile, but immediately set about readying a bath- before she'd even left the room, making her laugh all the way out the door. Hawke supposed modesty was a thing lost when you spend a month with someone in tight quarters.
She and Merrill walked through the Lowtown streets feeling lighter than they had in weeks without the oppressive bags slung across their shoulders. The elf couldn't stop looking at the sky, and smiling each time the sun peeked out from behind the thick foundry clouds. They parted ways on Hawke's street, the little mage making her way down to the alienage to greet her friends and presumably have a feast celebrating her return.
That left only Hawke and Melvin, standing near the stairs that would lead up to Gamlen's apartment. The mabari dutifully planted himself at Hawke's feet, tilting his head up at his mistress as she took it all in. Everything was so familiar, and yet it seemed like years since Hawke had seen the place. There were potted plants sitting all around the landing, the bright flowers still in bloom under the late Bloomingtide sun. Her mother's touch was everywhere; the freshly painted door and window sills, the woven mat outside the entrance, and the repairs on the roof that she'd undoubtedly commanded Carver to perform.
With a start, Hawke realized she could hear voices drifting out of the open window past the billowing curtains. Fear suddenly surged in her at the musical tones of her mother as she spoke to someone else. The rogue stayed rooted to the spot, so unsure of herself now that she stood so close to home. How would her mother treat her? Would she still only see a monster where she once thought her daughter to be? Would the gold be enough?
Well, if it wasn't, Hawke would just take Hugo and go. She would have the money delivered to her family while she stayed at Fenris's house with her son. Her mother could still buy the Amell estate and Hawke would leave Kirkwall so as to make sure that the woman wouldn't have to risk seeing her. Maybe go to Starkhaven, or Ostwick. Yes, that was it. She would just walk up the stairs, go in, say what she had to and leave. Though that was just the coward in her talking. She could face down a giant spider and a demonic dwarven monster, but Maker forbid she try and patch things up with Mum.
With a gulp, Hawke put one foot on the bottom stair, glancing up at the window, then back down at her feet. She took another step. The whole batch of steps went about that slow, until she finally stood on the landing, staring at the cheerily painted doorway, and the woven mat which she could only assume her mother made herself.
One hand came up in trepidation, and she cursed herself. Keep calm and this will be easy, just let her know you're alive. But maybe just a letter would do? No! You're already here; just knock on the bloody door so you can at least get your things and your son! She can't keep him from you now!
Three sharp raps on the door were all Hawke could take; each one physically jarred her. Once she was done she skittered backwards, standing by the stairs and staring at her feet like they were the most interesting things in all Thedas.
"Hello, who is-"
The door opened and Hawke's head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice. A woman stood there, young and quite beautiful. She had light blonde hair wrapped up into a bun atop her head, and honey colored eyes to match. She wore a simple cotton dress and an apron covered in the flour that also coated her hands. Of course the poor girl was looking at Hawke like she was the Arishok come to ask if they'd like to hear about the certainty of the Qun. Couldn't blame her; Hawke looked a mess. Her hair was slicked away from her face with only the aid of grease, blood, and dirt to keep it there. Her face was swollen with her broken nose and the nasty scar across it was bright red with infection. She was covered in mud and soot, her armor torn and repaired shoddily in several places, with no small amount of blood stains. And she was armed to the teeth.
"Wait, I'm not a bandit!" Hawke shouted as the woman made to slam the door, shoving her boot in to keep it open.
"My name is Haw- Marian! My name is Marian and my mother and family live here! I've…I've just come to get my things! Please; you're crushing my foot."
The woman paused in her frantic closing of the door, looking like she might say something. Though the entry way was suddenly filled with all six and a half feet of her bear like brother. Carver had a kitchen knife in his hand and a hand protectively placed on the woman's shoulder, his face angry and questioning- until his eyes landed on Hawke.
The knife clattered to the floor. He stumbled back away from the entrance like he'd seen a ghost, barely catching himself on a nearby table. The woman stumbled after him, putting an arm around his shoulders. Carver's haunted blue eyes so like her own, raced all around Hawke's form.
"You…you were dead…" He whispered, his face several shades paler, "We…we got a note, from that Tethras man…you and your group perished…in the roads…The bloody funeral is next week!"
Hawke really should have suspected that, Bartrand would need to cover up the deaths of the missing people on the Expedition, so of course her family would have been notified.
"Well." She scratched the back of her head, "I'm uh…not dead. Bartrand betrayed us and locked us in an abandoned thaig." Alarm flashed across Carver's features so Hawke quickly continued, "needless to say, we got out. Uhm, could I maybe come in? I've been walking for two straight weeks and sitting would be very nice-" she stopped, and her brows furrowed, "Unless I'm not allowed-"
She couldn't continue speaking because Carver had suddenly charged her. He grabbed his sister up into his arms, off the floor and spun around,
"Maker's breath," He gasped into her hair, "I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead; and the last thing I said to you was good riddance." She could feel the wetness against her cheek as he held her, shuddering, "Marian I'm so sorry. I love you so much, I'm so sorry."
Hawke gasped as he held her tighter, her feet still not touching the ground. She was glad for his arms around her; else she would have fallen apart right there. She managed to keep the tears in against the flood of happiness that surged through her. All that pain and darkness was swept away by words that Carver hadn't said to her since Father died. She wrapped her arms around him too, burying her head in his shoulder,
"It's alright Carver. I love you too baby brother." She mumbled, holding him tight.
Their reunion was interrupted, however, but the sound of pottery crashing to the ground.
Hawke looked up to see Bethany, and Leandra standing in the doorway to their tiny kitchen. Bethany was already full out sobbing, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands and desperately trying to stem the flow of fluids from every port on her face. Leandra had a hand over her mouth, the broken plate at her feet entirely forgotten. Her eyes were huge and watery, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Carver set Hawke down, stepping away towards the blonde woman while wiping his eyes and casting an embarrassed glance around the room. Though he couldn't keep the trembling smile off his face.
"Mother," Hawke hastily wiped her face, wincing as she accidentally hit her nose, "I was successful! I found all this treasure, I mean- it's at Varric's right now, but it's so much," she stumbled over her words, shaking like a leaf and sincerely doubting her ability to keep standing for much longer, "We found piles of artifacts and jewels and gold- we can buy the Estate back, and we can get you all the dresses you could want- or I mean, you could buy them- I'm sending basically all of the money to you; I only need enough to raise Hugo comfortably," she was babbling now, her eyes glued to the floor. Tears were running down her dirty cheeks and she could feel the scab on her nose had broken, and a trickle of blood ran into her mouth.
"G-Gamlen can have a room, and Carver could get his own forge; he's so good at smithing, after all." she choked out, watching as her mother began to step closer to her, "Bethany could even have her own little garden out back- Beth likes f-flowers so much," Leandra stood just before her daughter now, balling up a clean rag and dabbing at the blood coming from her nose, "a-and you could have a sewing room..and…and…" Hawke dissolved into sobs, falling into her mother's arms.
Leandra wrapped her arms gently around her daughter, holding her up as she cried. Her own eyes were wet and a few little tears escaped. But she was smiling, as such warmth, and relief filled her. Her mother swayed back and forth slowly as she held her, just as she'd always done since Hawke was a little girl. A hand ran through her disgusting hair, not minding the filth, and the other rubbed slow circles on her back,
"Hush now, love." She said softly, "let's get you a bath, and something to eat. Then we will talk about your journey." She pulled away and held her daughter's dirty face in her smooth, aged hands, "I am so, so proud of you. You have always worked so hard to protect and provide for this family; like your father did. I just couldn't see it." She smiled sadly as Hawke broke into a fresh batch of sobs, "You are such a smart, and brave woman, my sweet Marian. I love you so much, and I am so glad you are back home; where you belong."
After some time-and a very wet hug with Bethany that lasted for several minutes with both women spouting nonsense through their tears- Hawke managed to compose herself. Gamlen was in the kitchen claiming that something had gotten in his eyes and he was trying to wash it out- but gave her a bone crushing hug and an awkward pat on the back nonetheless. The woman was introduced as Narri, Carver's betrothed. That was a shock, to say the least. But it was something Hawke would have to hear about another time. She immediately asked to see Hugo; but Leandra assured her he was sleeping, and before Hawke was getting anywhere near him she was to clean off all the blood and dirt and whatever else she might have picked up in the roads.
So an hour or so later after having appreciated a bath like never before, and getting her nose bandaged properly, Hawke was allowed into Leandra and Gamlen's room. In the corner, next to the window where the suns light shone in through the thin drapes, was Hugo's crib. The wolf pelt blanket was big enough that it overflowed the edges, along with several other soft cotton quilts and pillows packed in.
Hawke padded softly over to the crib, after shutting the door behind her. She wore a loose white tunic with soft leggings on underneath and allowed her feet to be bare for the first time in what seemed like forever. Her hair was tied back from her face in a nubby ponytail, so it didn't get in her eyes when she leaned over to look at the sleeping baby.
He was on his back with his arms and legs splayed out in every direction as was his habit. His little face was slack as he dreamed; ruddy cheeks, button nose, dark lashes, rose petal lips, and curly bronze hair that wound in tight ringlets around his head. Hawke had to lean against the crib to keep standing. The fatigue that piled up through the trip overtook her at the sight of her perfect, beautiful baby.
Hesitantly, she reached in and slid her hands underneath him. Hugo was lifted up into her arms with one of his blankets wrapped around him. She positioned him gently and tilted her head to look at him, her eyes already puffy and red from crying so much that day began to water again. He fit just right in her arms, like he'd been made for her. Such a heavy sleeper; the baby didn't even stir while she rocked him.
Oh, how she'd missed this. The battlefield, killing, drinking, negotiating, stealing, saving, it was all pushed to the back of her mind as the little perfect thing in her arms became the center of her whole world. Now she wouldn't ever have to leave him again. Now he would grow up with all the comfort and happiness she could give him.
"Sweet…sweet baby…" she murmured, tilting her head down to touch his, smelling the sweetness of his skin. He woke at that, his eyes fluttering open slowly. The deep grey blue orbs stared back at her, seeming to be surprised for a moment- before a smile lit up his features. Hugo giggled and reached his hands up to her cheeks, patting them. Marian laughed, nuzzling her nose against his and listening to the sweet little coos he made against her cheek.
There was a knock on the door, and she turned around with a stupid smile still plastered across her face and Hugo giggling in her arms,
"Mother's got some food ready for you, sister." Bethany said, giving her sister a smile that would stretch on and on for miles. Marian always thought Bethany and Garret had the same smile- it reminded her of him. She looked down at Hugo,
"Shall we go get a snack, my little lovely one, hm?" Hugo laughed and wiggled about in her arms. Marian grinned and held him close before following after Bethany. Out in the main room of the apartment the family was gathered around the table.
Leandra patted the seat next to her, and her daughter carefully sat, positioning Hugo in her lap before looking up. Everyone was staring at her expectantly- as the only food was in front of her spot. Oddly enough, it was Gamlen who spoke first,
"I think we'd all like to know what happened to your face." He said, motioning to his own nose. Leandra swatted him for the way he said it, and Marian chuckled,
"Oh, I have quite the tale to tell, don't you worry."