GUESS WHO'S HOME?

Hello, guys. Glad to be back. D'ya miss me? I missed you. Lots. I missed the internet. I feel like that bit in The Notebook when the guy and the girl meet again. God, that was sappy. Anyway. I have had the internet back for some time, truthfully, but I've had loads of work, and then I went on holiday, and family drama… Argh. Thanks, guys! :) ~Witchcraft

Will The Sun Ever Shine Again? (Home On The Range) – Hawke

Hawke gazed into the fire in the hearth. The marble was dull and scuffed, and the flames didn't flicker like they used to. Something else that had changed.

The feeling of the house had changed since Leandra's presence left it. Maybe it would fairer to say that the feeling had abandoned it. There was nothing in the Hawke Residence anymore – no laughter as mother and daughter joked, no tuneful humming as Leandra baked, no quiet moments of reading by the fire. Only the rain hammering on the windows, the low rumbles of thunder above the dark, dank clouds.

"Rain is falling down like the heavens are hurting," murmured Hawke. "Seems like it's been dark since Andraste knows when. How can you go on, never knowing for certain – will the sun ever shine again?" She looked up to the large portrait of her mother, smiling in her youth, as the reflection of rain ran down her painted cheeks like tears.

"Feels like it's been years since it started to thunder," she continued, shaking her head as she turned to the window. "Clouds are camping out in the valley and glen." She watched the wind rattle the panes with blank eyes. "How do you go on, when you can't help but wonder – will the sun ever shine again?"

Her mouth screwed into a grimace as she pushed herself from the windowsill. What was the point? She'd failed Carver, she'd failed Bethany, and now she'd failed her mother. And by doing that, she'd failed Father. She'd failed.

"What if the rain keeps falling?" she cried, almost accusingly, at the grey skies above her as she wrenched open the windows. "What if the sky stays grey? What if the winds keep squalling?" She closed her eyes, feeling the salty rain mix with her own tears. "And never go away?" she whispered, feeling all anger leaving her in a breath.

Looking out across Kirkwall, she saw the flickering lights of the Chantry. The Chantry – Andraste, the Maker. Was she with them now? Was Carver? Father? Hawke could only hope. She blinked away raindrops from her lashes. "Maybe soon the storm will be tired of blowing," she prayed, her eyes fixed on the Chantry's roof. "Maybe soon it all will be over, amen." As long as the Chantry stood, things would be safe. Stable. Elthina had come to her at the funeral, and stood by her, wordless yet vigilant. As long as the Grand Cleric was in Kirkwall… Yes. Things would get better. But now, Leandra was gone, and Hawke couldn't care for Kirkwall.

"How do you go on, if there's no way of knowing – will the sun ever shine?" she asked, turning her gaze upward, speaking to the Maker Himself. She laughed once, heartlessly, humourlessly. "Wish I could say!" She threw up her hands. "Send me a sign, one little ray! Maker, if you're listening, how long until then?"

Nothing. No booming voice rattled from the heavens, nor any powerful urge in her mind. Hawke shook her head. Of course. Why would the Maker listen to her? She was just Hawke. Just the woman who had let her family die. Turning away, she rested her head in her hands, despairingly.

"Will the sun ever shine again?"

You know, I actually did like Grand Cleric Elthina. She was like the only person in Kirkwall who wasn't batshit crazy. And I also thought they could have done SO much more with this entire segment of the game. Come on Bioware, your fans are requiring feels….

Sorry. Depressing stuff to come back with. And short. I'll do better next time, I promise.

If I do update sporadically at any point, my apologies. Work, exams, and this new TV show I've become obsessed with called Supernatural are kind of destroying my life right now.

Love you all, and again – thank you so much for all the patience!

Up Next: Flemeth makes a point to her daughter about who knows best.