After Kirkwall – 10

Hawke takes a sharp intake of breath as she exits the small opening of the tunnel leading into Glitterglade Cave. A shaft of light comes down from the hole in the ceiling to light up the large tree in the centre. Flowers and grass pooling on the floor around it. The recesses of the cave glow from the lyrium veins rising up from the floor. On every wall there are gems reflecting back the light, looking like stars in the night sky. It is not hard to figure out why they gave this place its name.

"You witches could make a fortune if you mined this place." Damian whispers.

"Don't be so bloody daft!" Gracie chides him. "If the Chantry ever found out we would have Templars on our heads in droves and then where would we be then? Not free in these hills, that's for sure." She turns to Hawke, "Right then, you said you could help and we brought you here, what can you do?"

Hawke gives a small smile at the old harridan, straight to the point she is. "Tell me more of yourselves so I can decide how best I can do it."

The old woman harrumphs as she stands with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Trix is the one who starts talking, casting glances at Gracie as she speaks,

"You'll need to know more about Morla. She has always been able to tell bits of what is about to happen, but she was never much good at it until she got her demon. That is when she knew a large group of Templars would be coming. She said the mages in Dairsmuid would fall and when that happened, they would come for all of us. She foretold of a mage who could be the saviour of us all if we were prepared to sacrifice one of our own. We think she meant you."

"Why would sacrificing one mage save all of you from the Templar's wrath?" Damian asks.

"Because I'm the Champion of Kirkwall Damian." Hawke looks at him sadly, "The one who started the war. Capture me and they would not give a damn about any free mages running about the hills up here. It's not a bad plan."

"'Champion of Kirkwall! By the balls of the Sea Gods, even I've heard of you! Morla didn't tell us that, no wonder the bitch is so sure her plan would work!"

Hawke frowns, not sure if impressing Gracie is a good thing. Does Morla actually know who she is? If word had managed to get out of her trail, they would have to be more discreet, "How do you mages organise yourselves?"

"Hah!" Gracie blurts out, "We couldn't organise an orgy in a whorehouse! Until Morla, we've just looked out for ourselves. There are very few of us that have more than one magical talent, the closest we get to organising ourselves is when we barter between us for talents or kidnap the odd sailor for a bit of coin. We barely talk to each other most of the time."

"How did Morla change things?"

"She started with me." Trix pipes up, "My talent is pretty dumb, all I can do is tell when mages are about. I didn't think it was much use, but Morla persuaded me I could play a big part in her plan. I found all the mages in the hills for her, acted like a courier to get them to come to her so she could tell them how they could help and then she told me to look out for a mage coming into port. Derval's the one who knocked you out with his blast at the Chantry, Herron and Pauli took you both up to the cave, Herron levitates, and Pauli pushes."

"Could be handy to have those two on the crew." Isabella whispers to Damian.

"Gracie you know does barriers. Cory can do some illusions, Petra can call animals to her, Elias can send out fire bolts, but his magic is erratic and Fru can call a small storm, but she never told me how they were to help. Marta does some healing, but she didn't get me to find her. Davida and Welman weren't called either, but they have demons in them, maybe that's why."

"You two seem to get on well together, did working with Morla make you friends?"

"No." Trix explains, "Gracie's my grandmother. She helps me out, I've not been up here long. I came up just before the slaver raid, just as well or they would have had me too, but they got my little brother."

"That's why you helped us get out of there. You want him back."

Trix starts crying and talks through her sniffles, "Gracie doesn't think anyone will be able to get him back, do you gran?"

Gracie barks back, "No. Reckon the lad is a goner. We helped because you are the first person we've heard say they are going to something about those bastards. I doubt you could get the little lad back, but you can stop anyone else from losing their little lad, that's more important that keeping a few selfish mages out of a circle. Morla can go fuck herself if she thinks I'm going to stop you from at least trying to do something. Besides, if you go to that circle, they'll take that babe inside you away as soon as takes its first breath of Thedas air. I don't want to be part of that, just makes me as bad as them slavers. I only agreed to help Morla so them Templars didn't get the girl here. I'll find another way to hide her."

"It won't just be Morla that's pissed at you two when they find out we've gone is it?" Hawke looks at them both. Trix is still sniffling at memories of her lost little brother and Gracie staring at her defiantly, who is fully aware of what she is giving up by helping them, yet willing to pay the terrible price it might cost her. She cannot leave them like this.

"Give me your hands; I want to show you something."

The magic begins to flow between the three women. Gracie's sharp gasp lets Hawke know that she is able to feel what she is doing and Trix starts to giggle in wonder. Hawke learns how Gracie is able to keep her barrier so strong and what it is that Trix senses when she has found a mage. Hopeful that she will remember the skills to try out later with Varania, she continues exploring the weave of their magic. When Hawke draws mana from them she feels their fear build, but before it overwhelms them, she turns it the other way and restores what she has taken from them. As she starts sending her own mana to them their fear disappears and elation begins to take its place. She takes a few moments to shift the mana between each one showing how it can be directed to boost one mages abilities before making it flow back to the state it was in when they first held hands.

"Damn but I'm glad we let you go, "Says Gracie almost reverently, "If I'd known how strong a mage you were, I would never have agreed to Morla's plan in the first place. Where did you learn to do that?"

Trix's face has lit up and she looks at Hawke giggling all the while she is trying to get her words out, "That was...amazing! I can feel your magic inside me. Do it again!"

Hawke sighs and looks at them both, a little disappointed that neither of them picked up on the point she was trying to make with the demonstration, "I didn't do it to show off or entertain you! I wanted you to see that you can do it too!"

"You are kidding, I could never do that!" Trix's giggles stop immediately, shocked at what Hawke is suggesting.

"Nice of you to try lass, but I think that's a trick this old bitch could never learn." Gracie shakes her head.

Hawke sighs; this is going to take more than a few minutes for them to get the hang of. Maybe her expectations were too high. She had to remember how Varania had trouble at first and find some patience with these women. The time she wanted with Fenris would be much later than she hoped.

Isabella and Damian leave them, promising to bring back some food and Varania to help with the teaching of these mages. Fenris stands by the entrance, ready to kill anything that remotely resembles a Morla should she find them.

Hawke spends the rest of the morning trying to get the two women to feel the exchange of mana. It took some convincing for them to believe that they could share mana, but by midday Trix was managing to give enough of her mana to Hawke to heighten the flame she had created in her palm as a visual aid to what she was trying to teach them and Gracie could draw in mana from Hawke to make her barrier last longer without using potions. By mid-afternoon Trix could draw mana from Hawke and widen the radius of her mage sensing ability.

"Marta's nearby! I can feel her!" Trix calls out to Gracie, "What will we do? What if she finds us?"

"The one who heals?" Hawke asks Gracie who nods. "Why don't you invite her in and we can teach her too."

Gracie gives Hawke a wry toothless grin, "Help us help ourselves lass, that's your game isn't it?"

"Best way of all isn't it old mother?" Hawke replies.

The old woman shuffles off to the entrance mumbling and cackling to herself. When she returns, she is talking rapidly to a small white haired woman who is listening intently and nodding her understanding of the quick explanation Gracie is giving her. Trix is the one who gives the demonstration to the newcomer, keen to show off what she has learnt. Marta learns quickly, her healing ability having made her more familiar with the idea of moving mana between people. It is when Hawke is encouraging them to share mana between them without her that Damian returns with Varania and Harral and an unfamiliar man tied up and being pushed in front of them.

Trix put her hands to her mouth when she sees the stranger, "Derval what have you done?"

"Tried to use a bloody mind blast on us!" Damian grumbles, "Just as well Varania was with us, magic shields up quick as a flash. I take it he's one of your lot?" He asks Gracie.

"Yes and no big fella, let me talk to him and see if we can make it just a yes."

"Well make it quick before I have to punch him again and stop him trying to knock me out."

Varania pulls Hawke aside, "Are you all right Hawke? Is everything... as it should be?"

"Isabella told you about the baby as well didn't she?" Hawke asks, annoyed that everyone seemed to be discussing her maternal state except the two people who should be. 'Later' keeps moving further away.

Varania looks at her with sympathy; she can see her mana is almost drained in her efforts to teach the mages, "Isabella said nothing Hawke, I've known for some time only because I take your measurements. I've been waiting for you both to tell me."

Hawke stares at her, "You knew? I did not even know! Does everyone know now?"

"No, not everyone knows, but I'm sure that like me they will be happy for you and my brother." She takes Hawke's hands in hers, "We can discuss it later. You are tired. Let me take over with these mages for a while, you need to rest."

Hawke cannot express how grateful she is to Varania at that moment. At last, someone who has offered to do something in her place.

"Thank you."

Varania hugs her and sends her off to the back of the cave with Fenris to sleep, giving haughty looks to the mages who raise objections to an elf taking over their teaching. Hawke falls asleep to her admonishing them for silly prejudices and if they want to learn they had damned well better get used to her for the next few hours.

Trix's squeal brings her back to the world. Opening her eyes the girl kneels beside her, a look of fear and horror on her face as Fenris' blade stops just short of her throat. His voice growls from behind her, "What do you want?"

"I..I..I thought you should know! Morla's coming here!"

Hawke sits up in an instant pushing the blade away from the girl as she rises, "How far away is she Trix?"

"Not far. A few minutes at best. I felt her when we all joined."

Hawke rushes over to Varania who is at the centre of a circle of the hill mages, Hawke can see by the unfamiliar faces that more have come to the cave and somehow been recruited to the class, but there is no time to ask Varania for details.

"How ready are they sister?"

Varania looks at her calmly, "Not ready enough, but ready for a proper practical lesson."

"You know what they are all capable of, you direct the flow." Varania nods and directs them all to stand in a half circle around the entrance to the cave. Hawke glances at Fenris, who just nods and looks to Damian as they take their posts on either side, blades drawn. As they all fall silent Hawke hears a tapping noise at the back of the cave and turns to see Harral engrossed in his work at a lyrium vein.

Varania shrugs, "We still need the lyrium. Damian said there was plenty up here." Hawke rolls her eyes and asks Harral if he would not mind stopping for the moment.

As the silence becomes complete and the tension among them builds, they can all hear a shuffling sound as someone makes their way towards them. Hawke holds her breath, waiting to see the mage willing to sacrifice her to the Templars.

It seems like an eternity before Morla appears, but at last, a form comes through the darkness and into the glowing light of the cave. Morla is beautiful, tall and lithe with long flowing curls of jet-black hair that fall to her waist in a shining cascade. The animal hides she wears wrap round her figure accentuating her curves and adding allure. Her black eyes glitter as she looks at them all one by one.

"Well, well, well. Not quite what I had in mind, but at least you still have the mage." Her voice drips honey, sweet and inviting, Hawke can feel the pull of persuasiveness as this woman tries to gain control of the people in the room. She can sense the demon working within her; it has given her more than just a boost to her abilities as an oracle.

"And look, you have her friends as well as another mage; the Templars will be easily distracted with so much wealth of illegal magic to deal with. You have done well my people; we will all be safe now."

The determination of the mages in the half circle wavers, Hawke can feel them being drawn back to her cause, can feel her own willpower being drained as the demon-possessed mage continues to talk.

"Oh shut your mouth, you stupid bitch! Put that silver tongue away, we don't need it anymore!"

Gracie's gravelly old voice breaks through the spell that Morla is weaving, "You only want to save us so you can save your own demon hide. Templars catch you and you are dead! They won't be offering you the chance of a cloistered life with lots of mage friends!"

Morla crosses her hands on her bosom in mock offence, "How could you think such a thing my darling Gracie. I merely want to save us all, save our way of life, protect our freedom. When the Templars come they will want to strip us of everything, you will all be prisoners, and surely you do not want that?"

The power of her words shift the sense of the mages back towards her way of thinking, but somehow the old woman is unaffected by this, Hawke wonders if her barrier skills extent to mental ones as well as physical ones as Gracie once again argues back,

"Freedom at the expense of someone else's? Not my way Morla. I'll keep my freedom, but I'll get it for myself, without turning myself into a monster to get it! Now tell that demon to fuck off and come and be part of our party."

For a brief moment Gracie's words make an impact and Morla's face becomes one of terror, the real Morla comes through and Hawke can see her mouth the words 'help me' before disappearing forever. Morla's beautiful features twist and shift and the demon she has lost control of comes through. Morla is beyond her help now.

The demon's deep menacing voice reverberates around the cave walls, "Foolish mortals, you think to deny me?" a wall of fire blasts out of the demon's hand, reaching out to scorch them all into black crisp, but before the front hits them Hawke feels Varania draw in mana from all the mages to put up a shield and protect them from the fire. Hawke gasps in amazement at its strength. Never has she seen Varania put up a shield like that. Like the conductor of an orchestra, Varania turns and faces the mages and throws a hand out to point at one of them and the mana flows directly to him. The grim smile on the man's face does not falter as his levitation spell reaches out, sending the demon off balance as it rises in the air, legs kicking out trying to find a solid surface. Her arm shifts again and points to the man called Derval; his face takes on a serene calm as the mana changes course and fills him up. The mind blast that is thrown out stuns the demon further, rendering the spell it was trying to send out completely nullified. Varania's arm shifts once more, as does the mana flow and a bear appears behind the demon to send it's claws deep into the demon's back, it's large teeth sinking into the demon's twisted neck. The howl of anger and pain from the demon echoes deafeningly around them.

Hawke sends her mana to Varania ready to pool it in with the rest of the mages, but Varania glances at her and shakes her head. The small smile she gives her telling her to let them do this for themselves. Hawke is left to stand and watch and marvel, ready to do something only if needed. Varania points once again to another mage and he stretches both his arms in front of him and the demon is sent flying into the rock walls of the cave, and they all hear the crunch as it's carcass makes contact. Her arm shifts again and this time the mage pulls in the mana and sends out a singular massive fire bolt to blast at the demon. The noise of the explosion rips through the cave. Everyone flinches protecting himself or herself from the blast.

Hands uncurl from heads and bodies straighten up to the sounds of splats as pieces of demon flesh fall around them. All goes quiet as eyes look around and stare at the carnage scattered around the cave.

Trix's giggle breaks the silence and is joined by titters and snickers, building up to outright laughter as the mages take in what they have achieved. Varania bows to them, "No more lessons today I think."

Varania walks slowly over to Hawke a wide smile on her face. Hawke grins back, "That was truly impressive Varania, and how did you manage to get them to that in a few hours? Those people have never worked in synchrony like that, it was beautiful."

Varania reddens at the praise, "I've been watching you do the same thing with all of us. Once they got used to the idea that the only way this was going to work was if they shared it was easy."

"But where did they all come from, there was only four of them when I fell asleep."

"Young Trix. She went out and gathered them up. I think she has some underlying powers of persuasion she does not know about. There is a little problem though Hawke. There is two she brought back who have invited demons into them. I do not think they are as powerful as Morla's one and they have not taken over fully yet. I sent them back; it just did not feel safe to try to pull them into the mana ring. We don't know what a demon would do to us if it was included in that." Varania bites her top lip, "I spoke to Harral, and we can help them if they want their demons gone."

Hawke looks round at the mages, talking excitedly, patting each other on the back, sharing their amazement at what they had managed to do. Varania had been right not to pull her into what they were doing; they would never have gained the confidence that now showed in them, thinking only that they needed her for it to work. They were pulling into a cohesive group now, was it fair that some of them were not allowed in? If the mages of Seere really wanted to help themselves, they needed to continue helping each other, including those who could end up just the same as Morla.

"What did Harral say?" Hawke senses from the look on Varania's face, and what she knows of demons, that she is not going to like this. Her suspicions are borne out as Varania answers.

"It means going into the Fade. He says we have everything here we need, mages and plenty of lyrium. He knows the ritual. As long as those mages want rid of their demons it can be done."

Hawke sighs, "I really hate the Fade. Fighting demons on their own territory. Having them tempt you." Hawke remembers well how Fenris had been tempted with the promise of powers to match a magister. The pain, hurt and sorrow of that event is still fresh to her. The man who hated mages, the man she loved, had wanted those powers enough to turn on her. That demon had taunted her, shown her that Fenris wanted power more than he wanted her. She did not want to face that kind of betrayal again. She knows the image of Morla mouthing 'help me' will haunt her for a long time. If she had arrived sooner, maybe she could have done something. Morla may be well beyond help now, but there are two mages in the hills who are not.

"Ask Trix to bring those mages back here. If they really want this, we'll do it." The feeling of foreboding does not leave her, but these mages need to understand more about the dangers they face from demons before they blithely go and invite their help and Hawke wants to find out if ridding mages of demons is possible.

Gracie approaches her, "Well lass, you've shown you can teach an old witch new tricks. Your friend is a good teacher, even though she is an elf. I just wanted to thank you for what you and your friends have done here today."

Hawke looks at her and her heart falls, "You won a battle here today Gracie, but the war isn't over. There are more lessons to learn and they are not ones I am looking forward to teaching. If the rest of your neighbours are to be helped we need to go into the Fade."

Gracie grins widely at her, "Don't worry lass, I've been there a few times. Fucked those demons up well good. I'll come with you, maybe this time I will be the one to help you."

Hawke feels her mood lift a little. The old woman really is as tough as old boots and if she really has been in the Fade and killed demons before, then her help would be worth something.

"You didn't seem to be affected by Morla's speech, how is it that she could not persuade you?"

Gracie shrugs, "Don't know the answer to that one. I just know that them demons have never shifted my own mind from where I wanted it to go. If you go into the Fade I'll be at your back, those sneaky bastarding demons won't stand a chance." The woman looks around at the now not so beautiful cave and the blood and flesh spatters on her clothes. "My third boy owns that tavern down in the town. Why don't we go there and get cleaned up. I think these idiots have earned the right to show their faces in public again, besides I need a drink."

Gracie had continued to have a positive effect on Hawke's mood when they reached the town. She was not quite so sure she had the same effect on anyone else. She had screeched and swore at her son in the tavern, insisting that he provided their baths, food and drinks free of charge. Called him a tight-fisted son of a bastard, which was the truth, as she knew who his father was. Her grandson Sol she had greeted with more warmth, but then told him he was a lazy shit and had him running around carrying out the many errands she wished him to do. The harbour master she informed them was her second son before hounding him to leave off asking them for the fees for the extra days they were going to be staying in port, still unhappy with him she hit him repeatedly about his head until he gave them back the fees they had already paid. Not once did her sons answer her back or try to stop her from hitting them and Hawke caught the wry grins and fond looks they cast towards her as soon as she turned her back on them.

Clean, fed and with drinks in their hands the Seere mages sat in a circle in the tavern. Hawke was surprised when it was Marta who took on the mantle of chair to their meeting, but the quiet soft-spoken woman had a calming effect on the excited talk of the group and brought them to order.

"Let us drink first to Morla, our lost one. May the Gods look on her tenderly on her journey across the oceans to the Great After."

As one, they drink and bow their heads in silence as they pay their respects to the mage they killed.

"Although Morla lost control of her demon her prediction remains true. We thought the sacrifice to be made was this mage, but 'one of our own' meant Morla instead. This mage is the saviour of Morla's foretelling. Not Morla. This mage has shown us a new path. A path we can follow where no more will the Templars harry and hound us to our incarceration."

Hawke feels perturbed at being called a saviour, but is reassured that there is no sign of worship from the group. They appear to accept it as just a fancy word used to make Morla's foretelling sound grander. It is as Marta continues that a chill runs down Hawke's spine.

"Magra's son has returned and has news. The mages of Dairsmuid have fallen." The mages in the group just nod, they trusted Morla's words and have been expecting this news. The Templars are coming for them and they will have to fight, the only question remaining is how long before they reach Seere.

"So we are agreed, we go to Tevinter?"

All the mages raise their drinks and nod assent.

"What?" Hawke stands up.

"Sit back down lass, don't get you knickers in a twist," Gracie waves at her to sit, "We're not coming with you on your ships, we're going by land."

Hawke stays on her feet, "Why are you going at all? You can stay here, you know how to fight off the Templars, and you'll be able to live as you have been again!"

"You helped us, so we will help you. Trix will travel with you; she will find us when you get there."

"How did this happen? For years you all have barely spoken to each other, lived completely separate lives from each other and the rest of the world. After one day! Just one day you all sit around here as if you have never had a day apart, never argued, reach total agreement in seconds about something that is so...radical to everything you have ever been. I would call it madness except there are too many of you to all be having the same delusion!"

Marta looks at her calmly and explains patiently, "If we are not here then there is no one for the Templars to take away. If we are not here, then we do not have to kill young men and women who are just misguided. If we are not here, we do not risk losing more of our own. We need to get our lost children back or at least do our part to stop other children being lost. We have hidden in the hills for too long, we have hidden our magic away, we can no longer do either of these things. You have shown us a new path; this is how we have chosen to follow it."

"But you could all die!"

"If we stay we could die, not one of us will go willingly to Dairsmuid."

Gracie stands up and comes to her to take her hands in hers, "Child, we only go to Tevinter for you to use if you have need of us, nothing more. Let us do this."

"Why does she never talk like that to us Pa?"

Gracie whips her head round to her grandson, "Because you are a couple of ingrates who have never put yourself on the line for anybody! Get more drinks, we have a nasty job to do before we leave and I'd prefer to be drunk when I do it!"

Hawke looks into Gracie's wizened old face, "Are you all sure about this?"

"Not one of us has any doubts. This sharing of magic has effects you didn't expect lass, doesn't it? Now go and get that tranquilised, freak of a mage you've got with you and let's go kick some arse in the Fade."

All Hawke's fears and dread about going into the Fade prove groundless. The first mage wanting her demon out of her was Davida. She had been tempted by the offer to develop her ability to grow crops, faster and larger on the stony ground outside the shack she inhabited. The deal had turned sour for her when everything she grew had no taste. She had stopped growing anything and her demon had merely turned on her, constantly berating her for never going near other people. She had followed Trix in the hope that she would be killed, no longer wishing to live with the demon inside her. When Varania had sent her back she had tried to kill herself, but the demon had stopped her and berated her some more. The woman was desperate. She did not care if they succeeded in getting the demon out of her, only asked that they kill her if they did not.

Harral instructed the mages on the procedure for sending them into the Fade, explaining how it was different from her time to help Feynriel. There was enough lyrium that Hawke could take as many mages into the Fade with her as she wished, but Harral warned that the more she took in, the bigger the risk that one of them could be harmed and the fewer there were to carry out the ritual and hold them in the Fade. Hawke took Gracie, Varania and Marta in with her. The demon laughed when it saw them, not even bothering to disguise itself. Gracie did not wait for it to start, with its tricks and tempting offers. She pulled a catapult out from under her skirts, causing the demon to laugh even more uproariously, and fired a stone straight through the centre of its head. The laughter stopping abruptly as it died instantly. As it shrivelled and faded into dust, they were pulled back, Gracie's cackles ringing loud in their ears.

"A catapult?" Hawke asks Gracie when they come round in the tavern.

"Catches 'em off guard. They expect blades, big weapons, blasts of magic. A little thing like this they don't see coming, packs a big punch if it's done right. I've brought down a bear with this thing. Means I don't have to get too close to the stinking monsters either." She gives another cackle before demanding more alcohol from her son.

Welman is a middle-aged man who has lived with his demon for years. Invited in when he was young to boost his persuasion and bed any woman or man he wished. All was well until the demon started draining the life force from his partners and one of them died. Welman had isolated himself, afraid to speak to anyone, lest the demon feed on them also. Like Davida, his demon would not let him die until he had found another to take his place. He had followed Trix feeling he had no other choice but to let the demon take her, but when Trix had told him of what was happening, he had allowed himself to hope for another way out. He had gagged himself before returning with her finding the willpower in the last of his own reserves to prevent the demon from using his voice.

Hawke had watched as Gracie spoke with him when he removed the gag and confirmed the old woman's ability to block persuasive magic. She used it without thinking, in the same way she breathed. So tight was it woven that Hawke at first thought it might not be understood, but as Gracie talked with the man, Hawke was able to pick it apart. If she could put it, back together and use it, herself she might never have to fear demons again.

Gracie had warned them the demon was close to coming out in Derval, so enraged was it with him and suggested they deal with it quickly. Hawke took Trix instead of Marta this time, hoping she had inherited something of her grandmother's abilities. The demon had taken the form of Sol, mingling itself in with the images of other townsfolk, knowing of Gracie's ability to block, it had thought to deceive instead, but Trix saw through the disguise, sensing it's magic. The rage of the demon when it found its attempt at disguise discovered so quickly almost overpowered them. The simple catapult was not going to be enough this time. Hawke acted without thinking, drawing in the mana of the others to blast ice at it repeatedly, until the fires burned out and it froze and shattered with the final blast.

Hawke wakes to sense Marta's mana flowing in her, checking if she needed healing and finding nothing, but she leaves some of her own to replenish what was lost in the Fade.

"Are Davida and Welman all right?"

Marta's rheumy blue eyes twinkle back at her, "Better than I thought possible my dear. It will take time for them to recover fully, the demons were with them a long time, but they are with friends now. We will help them on their journey. You have done us a great service."

Hawke looks round to see that Gracie, Varania and Trix have not woken yet. "Don't worry about them, they will be fine. You had to drain a lot of their mana for Welman's demon, they just need to rest." Marta looks to the door of the tavern bedroom, "There is however someone I think who still needs your help. A terrible case of anxiety about you, I had to kick him out. Please talk with him before he uses that blade to take my head off. I think I should like to keep it."

"Fenris." Hawke smiles.

"Sol has readied the room next door for you; I thought you might be too wobbly on your feet to make it back to your ship. Now go and put that elf out of his misery."

Hawke opens the door to have Fenris grab her and lift her off her feet to carry her into the next room. She laughs as he kicks the door closed with his foot and lays her down on the bed. Fixing a chair under the door knob she can her him muttering that enough is enough, he will kidnap his own wife if that's what it takes to get her to himself for a while.

He places his blade up against the wall beside the door and walks to the bottom of the bed to crawl up it over her until they come face to face.

"So you would have me be a father now."

Her hand comes up to gently push back the shock of white hair, to better see into those green eyes that make her melt inside.

"Don't you want to be one?"

He brings his hand to her face; his fingers trail the line of her jaw and then her lips. He did not think he could love her any more, yet more of it fills him, right to his core.

"Until Damian told me, I did not know that I did. I do not know if I will be a good father, but I will do my best to be one."

"I couldn't ask any more of you than that."

"You can and you will Hawke, I know this and will give it gladly."

His kiss is filled with all the love he feels inside. The years of hate and self-loathing fade into memory. Here is the woman who loves him, knowing all his flaws and faults, yet loves him still. Whatever the future might hold, at this moment he feels content and happiness he has never known in his life. The memory of right now will never be lost.

He sits up and straddles her hips, his knees sinking into the soft bedding and mattress. Looking down on his beautiful wife, he can see no sign of the life she holds inside her. There has to be something, Isabella had teased him in the cave, asked him how he could be so blind. Damian had shook his head at him, after apologising for being the one to point out what he should have known, asked him how someone who spent so much time wrapped round her body had not noticed the changes. He readily admitted to himself that how women's bodies worked was a mystery to him. What need had he had to know about their cycles or how babies grew inside them? He knew which parts to send his sword slicing to stop them killing him. He knew hearts, he knew hearts better than most people knew their own bodies, knew well that feeling of holding it in his hand, feeling their life blood pumping through it and choosing to take it from them. Had felt the chambers pumping, knew how their movement was what gave voice to a heartbeat, knew the valves that opened and closed to send blood from one to the other and knew that he only had to hold a finger over any one of them to stop the flow of life. Pulling hearts out of chests was the showing off that Danarius had looked for from him to demonstrate his ability; he did not need to go that far to end someone's journey in this world. What happened when a journey began, he had never learned.

He reaches down to untie the laces of her leather bodice, pulling the ties loose so he can pull it over her head and reveal the smooth skin underneath. He hears Hawke's muffled laughs as his fingers brush her skin, tickling her as she wriggles to help him in taking the clothing off. He studies her breasts and can see they are fuller than they were, riper and rounder, the aureoles of her nipples look larger and the pale pink of their colour has shifted to a deeper rose. His fingers reach out and trace their circle feeling them harden and stiffen with something more than just her building desire and obvious pleasure in his touch. His hand cups round her breast, his thumb continuing to rub its pinnacle. He knows that he has been aware of the change in its size, but had not taken than awareness and thought more on it to make the connection that Hawke's body was preparing for what was to come, the change too subtle and his knowledge too poor. He bends to take her nipple in his mouth, his tongue exploring and gently sucking, but there is no change to the sweet taste of her. He lingers for a while, Hawke's soft moans and sighs fuelling his own pleasure.

Her pelvis rises as she arches her back, urging him on. His mouth travels down her torso cascading kisses and flicks of his tongue. His fingers pull at the lace on her trousers, pulling the cloth back to reveal her stomach. His head lifts to look more closely, but there is no telltale swelling to be seen, but as his hand gently presses, he can feel the firmness of a mound that was not there before, putting his ear on the spot, he tries to hear what is in there, but there is nothing to be heard. Hawke's fingers stroke the back of his neck as his hand moves over her stomach once more. There is a moment when he is tempted to phase his hand and reach in to touch and feel the new life he has made, but fear of what harm that might do makes it pass. Instead, he reaches under her trousers, his fingers searching for and finding the small nub at the core of her pleasure centre, her breathing quickens and little gasps escape her. He brings her to the height of her climax, exalting in the pleasure it gives him to make her feel like this, reassured as she cries out that in this nothing has changed.

Hawke's hands are on his back, pulling at his upper clothes, laughing at her; he unties laces, loosens buckles and in one fluid movement pulls them off to throw them on the floor. He moves off the bed to stand at the bottom, taking off his own trousers and then pulling at the feet of Hawke's, yanking them off with her underclothes. Now he can see her full magnificent unadorned length. He stares intently, what else has he missed? Her hips have filled out a little and serve to accentuate the curve to her waist. This he should have noticed, the contours of her frame as she moved has always fascinated him, this slight shift in line, change in the curve he should have seen, no less fascinating to him and no less attractive, still beautiful to his eyes, why had he not seen this?

Hawke reaches out her arm, catching his hand to pull him forward and lie with her once more. Her eyes sparkling with the aftermath of his touch and her need of him. Smiling, he climbs back on the bed, but he is not finished with his examination just yet. He turns her on her front and places his hands just below her neck, pressing as they sweep over her shoulder blades, pressing with his fingers and kneading his knuckles over the spots of tension still lingering. His hands spread out, his thumbs moving to either side of the bones of her spinal cord and move down to the small of her back where he finds another knot of tense muscle. As he rubs, he feels the change. He knows bones, knows the trouble they cause when his sword sticks in one, and knows how hard he needs to strike to slice through one. The change is ever so slight, but they have softened, softened so they can shift, her spine will move to adjust as the child grows. Pleased with himself that he has found something that no one else has told him about, he leans down to kiss that part of her back, one of the many places on her body he will return to, watching and waiting to see how much more it changes as time passes.

The allure of her buttocks pulls his thoughts from her back, to the multitude of memories of the days in Kirkwall. Travelling at her back he had watched them shift back and forth as they travelled, mesmerised at the rhythm. For years, he had watched, imagining what they were like without covering, then years trying to forget. Here he was now, the only one to see them in their perfect nakedness. All day he had watched them, saw how the light movement and rhythm had altered, held close to himself the warm thought that at some point he would see them just like this.

He lowers his body onto her back his full length matching hers, his manhood slipping into the warm cleft between her thighs, indulging himself in pleasure as she brings her legs together to squeeze him, a delightful parody of the opening at the top of them. He can already feel the moistness of her desire that has seeped out, readying the way for him to fill. He kisses and nuzzles the back of her neck until she turns herself round onto her back once more and he growls his unhappiness in her ear as his length slips back out of that most comfortable sheath of her thighs. Hawke laughs quietly in his ear, her hands reach down, her touch electric sending even more blood to harden him, and guides him into the other place, that most wonderful of her body's deep secret places. Her warmth engulfs him, her legs wrap round him pulling him deeper inside her, closer to where their child lies. The rhythm builds and he loses himself to desire and passion. Release when it comes, drains away all the worry and fear he has held tight in himself since Hawke left the ship with Isabella.

The rapping at the door rouses Hawke from her sleep. Fenris, as usual has woken before her, and is washing in the corner of the room, his muscular chest bare and his tattoos reflecting the light of the sun streaming in through the window. Blue skies are a rare thing for Seere indeed; Hawke hopes it is a good omen. Fenris turns his dripping head to cock an eyebrow at her. The chair is still in place, she can stay captive for longer if she wishes, they can pretend they are still asleep and leave the door rapper to give up and leave. Tempting though the thought is, she nods to Fenris to answer the call.

Gracie marches into the room as soon as she hears the chair has moved. She is about to speak when she notices Fenris and her mouth closes again. Failing to notice the scowl on his face, she walks straight to him and touches his tattoos, only stopping when they start to glow.

"Hell's teeth elf, they must have been painful to get. Why would you do that to yourself? Fuck me, I know we like our tats in Rivain, but these...you must be a very troubled man to have got these done. Hawke, are you sure he's fit to be the daddy to that kid you're having?" she starts wagging her finger at Fenris, "Whatever shit you have in your head boy, you get rid of it right now and don't look at me like that! You had better be good with that fancy sword of yours, that lovely girl there is going to need you to use it properly!"

"Shut up old woman before I show you just how good I am with it!"

Gracie's toothless smile breaks out and she starts cackling loudly. "Kill a sweet old lady would you? Hawke, he's better than I thought, even if he is an elf!" she pats him on the arm, "Takes guts to answer me back. I like you." She does not see him roll his eyes and put his hands in the air, turning immediately to speak with Hawke, paying no attention to her still being naked and in bed.

"We're off lass. We'll keep practising like your elf friend told us to. Look after Trix, she's a good granddaughter, she'll find us for you when we get to Minrathous. Those slavers won't stand a chance!"

Hawke wraps the bed sheet around her and goes to stand in front of Gracie. This little firecracker of an old woman is rude, foul mouthed, cantankerous and far too free with her opinions, but in the short time she has known her, Hawke has grown fond of her.

"Be careful Gracie. I do not want to get to Minrathous and find you are not there for me. Thank you...for everything."

"You be careful too lass. I have a hankering to see which one of you that babe ends up taking after."

In the sunshine Seere does not look quite as sad as it did when they arrived. As the four ships pull out of port, Hawke thinks that it should look even sadder. The children are gone and now their mages have left as well, but if anything, it looks hopeful. Isabella comes to stand beside her once the ship is safely beyond the port entrance and together they watch as Seere recedes into the distance.

"I think I have to say that that place is not as bad as I thought after all." Says Isabella.

"Oh, you didn't Isabella! Tell me you didn't."

Isabella grins at Hawke and sways her hips, "It's all right Hawke, I didn't fuck Damian, I made love with him, all night and with talking too. You would have been proud of me."

"You told him?"

"Yes I did. On a moonlit night, on board his ship, stars twinkling up above I said 'I love you'. Romantic drivel the lot of it but..." Isabella looks down at her hands twiddling her fingers, "Hawke, this whole thing scares the fucking crap out of me. The sex is great, but the rest of the stuff? I don't know what I'm doing."

"None of us do Isabella."

"But you and Fenris...you seem to have got it pretty well together."

Hawke laughs at her, "Sure, a baby on the way and heading straight into who knows what in Tevinter. Look, all I know is that when I have those moments when the shit stops getting fired at me, he's the one I want to be there. The fact that he is usually there at when the shit is being fired at me is beside the point. Do not over think it Isabella. Damian's your safe port in a storm, just make the most of those times."

"It's really that simple?"

"Maker's breathe no! The whole thing is really hard and screwed up at times; I've just found that if I think about it too much I get lost!"

"Damn it Hawke, not thinking too much is what I've been doing for years, what kind of advice is that to give an old friend?"

"It's not advice; I suppose I'm just saying I'm glad my old friend has found some happiness and that she should enjoy it while she can."

Isabella slaps Hawke on the back, "Now that's advice I like! Come on, we've got work to do."