It was winter again, the first since Leandra had died. The Qunari threat had been vanquished and Hawke had emerged as the face of the city. She was under constant scrutiny, the nobles often spreading rumours about the Champion's foreign, common, elven wife. Tamlen grew, now nearly a year old. Merrill took great solace in her time with her son. She had hoped against hope that she might have another child, but her monthly bloods kept flowing. The first after Gamlen had left her had broken her heart. The rest that followed were mere reminders.

Hawke was rarely home, often out all night helping the citizens of the city or assisting to help rebuild the Chantry. Their love life had become similar to before, increasing in frequency only due to their mutual wish for another child. At times it was pleasurable, if never truly earth shattering. It was enough. Their family was strong, stable, and she worked often in her old home, her child playing by her feet as she studied the old texts and attempted to repair the broken mirror.

On that winter's night, they were going back home to Hightown, Tamlen buried in her layers of shawls and scarves, strapped to her chest. She fixed her boots the best she could, but her feet had widened somewhat after the pregnancy, something only noticeable now that she was once again dependent on shoes. The winds were picking up and the snow was growing thick around them. She needed to get home as soon as she could.

Tamlen started crying as they went through the crowds and she pulled him tighter to her, ignoring the leering eyes of some of the dock workers, now freshly drunk from cheap tavern ale. She saw a pair follow her and she picked up pace. She knew she could use magic to protect them, but she couldn't let go of her son or risk detection. She looked ahead and saw the light on in Gamlen's house. In fear, she ran ahead, opening the door and shutting it in the face of her stalker. Gamlen stood up without a word, grabbing his wallop mallet off the wall and chasing them out into the street, cursing them with several words Merrill had not heard of before.

He locked the door behind him and put the mallet back on the wall, ignoring her.

"They'll be gone in a few minutes," he said, getting his coat, "I'll get either the dwarf or the pirate to walk you back home. You should get him a hat, you know. You lose a lot of your body heat through your head, or so that Anders keeps telling me."

"Please don't go."

"You can take care of yourself," he replied, "I was just worried about the boy."

"Is that all you're going to say?" She whispered.

"There's nothing else to say. Nothing's changed."

Tamlen babbled happily and Gamlen smiled down at him.

"You should stay," he said quietly, "The storm's getting worse and it's late. I...I would worry about you both."

The wind howled against the house and she nodded, following Gamlen into his bedroom. She lay on top of the blankets, holding a sleepy Tamlen to her. Gamlen returned, putting another quilt on top of them.

"You should stay too," she said quietly, "You'll catch your death out there."

Gamlen stayed fully clothed, lying on the other side of Tamlen, the sleeping child sighing happily between them. Merrill closed her eyes, trying to rest. In the middle of the night, she got up to find a drink of water, and returned, seeing Gamlen hold his child in his arms protectively, the baby smiling in his sleep.

She frowned and went to the spare room, curling up in the bed Hawke used to sleep in, years before. When she found she couldn't sleep, she went back to Gamlen's bed and fell asleep.

She only woke when she heard the door slam open and she jumped up with her hands in the air, shouting, "It wasn't me!"