Author's note: Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, clafount, and to everyone who's reading this story, especially any reviewers!

Mid-morning light filtered through the bedroom's pale curtains, slowly stirring Carver awake. He'd long since grown accustomed to letting the sun wake him, for he'd shared the room with Merrill for nearly a year, and the Dalish elf simply loved the sunshine. The warrior shifted slowly, propping himself up on one elbow, letting his gaze linger over the woman's placid face for a few precious moments. Gently, Carver drew his thumb across her cheek, tracing over one of the lines the elf wore so proudly. When his touch failed to rouse his companion, Carver's hand roamed downward, disappearing beneath the blanket that shrouded both of them. His digits followed the path of the inked tree-trunk on Merrill's abdomen, until his palm came to rest on the gentle rise of her belly. He let his eyes drift closed as he considered the two lives he held in his hand, unable, as always, to take a proper accounting of his fortune .

Though Merrill seemed impervious to Carver's touch, the child within her proved more sensitive; after a handful of heartbeats, the warrior felt the subtle nudges that told him that the little one was awake, at least. Soon enough, the kicks drew the Dalish elf from her dreams-she jerked suddenly, a spasm of surprise crossing her features, but her expression settled into pleasant surprise as she became aware of her surroundings. "Atisha uth'then ha'lam," Merrill murmured, stifling a yawn and rolling onto her side to face him.

Carver breathed a chuckle at the Elvish words; once he might have rolled his eyes and called it gibberish, but he'd begun to see the beauty in the arcane expressions. "Good morning to you, too," he pronounced, before his brow twitched in concern. "Did you have the dream again?"

Merrill's fingers laced through his, the elf pressing his palm more solidly into her belly. "Yes," she admitted, closing her forest-green eyes for the space of a breath. " But it wasn't so bad, this time," Merrill claimed, once her eyes had found him again. Her lips even managed to quirk into a small smile. "I think it's getting better, latha'len. "

"I hope so, love," he replied, leaning in to brush a soft kiss across the mage's forehead. Nearly every night since the child had quickened within her, Merrill had faced a recurring scene whenever she slept soundly...not a nightmare, exactly, but it seemed to distress her for the first few months. She wouldn't give him too many details, but the Dalish elf was adamant that it wasn't a demon's trick, and she didn't seem to regret the choice she'd made that had led her to share Carver's bed.

They were both-all three, Carver reminded himself-lucky to still breathe, after what the mirror had brought forth into the Alienage. If not for Athadra and the rest of the Grey Wardens, half of Kirkwall would have been lost, rather than half of the elven district. Occasionally the warrior's own dreams were haunted by the monsters he'd helped to fend off, so similar to the beasts encountered in Ostagar and afterward, yet much more powerful and vicious all the same . More than one elf and human guard had to be silenced, once the fiends were beaten back and the mirror broken once again. Carver was thankful to the Maker, the Creators, and whoever else might listen, that he and Merrill had been spared that fate.

The Dalish elf had been inconsolable for weeks once the dust had cleared from the Alienage, her years of effort and best intentions ending in death and destruction. Yet she'd been freed from her burden at last, and Marethari so had invited her back to the clan, as though all could simply be forgiven . Carver had been terrified that he'd never see her again. But in the end, the elf chose to remain with him. She was still Dalish to her very toes, and after a few months of recovering from the shock, she became the scourge of Hightown nobles' gardens once more . And, of course, Leandra had welcomed the lass into the house with all of her motherly enthusiasm, and when she learned of her coming grandchild, the Lady Amell became happier than Carver had seen her, at least since the death of Malcolm. Bethany was about the estate as often as not these days, as well.

It seemed as though all of the years of struggle, since Ostagar and before, were finally behind them. Carver felt contented, perhaps for the first time in his life. "I love you, Merrill," he offered unprompted, and he was rewarded with the woman's breathless, almost disbelieving grin.

"I love you, Carver," Merrill answered, her green eyes twinkling. Then she winced, glancing down at her belly, through the blanket. "She's getting more eager to see her papa every day," the mage mused. "It won't be much longer, now."

The warrior leaned closer, stealing another chaste kiss from his lover's forehead. "And I can't wait to see her," he assured Merrill. She claimed to know that she carried a girl, and Carver had no reason to disbelieve her. "Paqua Hawke," he breathed, still trying to get used to the name. "I wish Paquis could have seen her… "

Merrill nuzzled into the crook of Carver's neck. "He will, latha'len," she insisted, not for the first time. "I'm sure of it." She'd been surprisingly amenable to Carver's idea for their daughter's name, once he'd explained how the rogue had given his life to save Carver's, back in Ferelden. "But now, little Paqua says she's hungry," Merrill said, stifling a yawn. "As much as I'd love to just lie in all day…"

"Me too," Carver affirmed. "But Bethany wants to go help the Chantry brother get revenge on the Harrimanns today, too." He sat up slowly with a bit of a grunt, rolling his shoulders...still sore from a hard day's training with his sister from the previous day. He'd never have believed it a year ago, but the slightly-older Hawke was very nearly as adept with her longswords as he was with his greatblade. Carver chalked it up to being a Grey Warden, though he was hardly tempted to join the order himself, in spite of his twin's increased skills.

"Oh, I wish I could go with you," Merrill lamented, still lounging back despite her claims of hunger.

The warrior offered her a cocky grin. "I know," he replied. "I'll just have to kill a few bastards for you."

"That would be lovely," the elf affirmed earnestly, finally drawing herself up from the bed .

It was Carver's turn to linger, as he watched his love stretch out the last vestiges of sleep, the morning sunlight throwing her form into shadow. His eyes caught at her flared hips, and the warrior briefly entertained the notion of drawing her back into the bed, but somehow he found the will to restrain the impulse. Anders would certainly be displeased if Carver did anything so reckless this close to Merrill's lying-in. The healer and the Dalish elf were agreed that little Paqua would take her first breath before the end of August. So, instead of giving over to his impulsive lust, the warrior rolled out of the other side of the bed. The pair dressed in silence, Carver in his trousers and sleeveless shirt, while Merrill had taken to wearing a long, flowing robe.

The mage took the initiative, stalking from the bedroom just as Carver was pulling on his boots. He stumbled after her, taking care not to break his neck on the stairs, intent on sharing a lazy breakfast with the Dalish elf. The dining room showed evidence that Bethany had come and gone, which wasn't terribly surprising; no matter how late the Warden went to bed or how hard she pushed herself, she always rose before the sun. The smell of eggs and ham wafted in from the kitchen, and when Carver and Merrill went to investigate, they found Leandra hard at work preparing enough food for the three of them.

"Oh, come in, darlings," the Lady Amell called to them just as Carver pushed through the door. "Your sister's gone out an hour ago, but she's coming back soon," she informed them, humming to herself. Carver knew it must be true, for his mother would never be so content if Bethany had simply disappeared on Warden business, as she'd often done without warning or word of her return. "Are you hungry?"

Merrill ambled closer, drawn by a rasher of bacon that had already been cooked. "I'm starving," she replied, giving Leandra a shy smile.

The Amell matriarch heaved a sigh. "Go on, then," she allowed, chuckling when Merrill snatched up a slice of bacon. The elf groaned in pleasure as she chewed. "Honestly, you're nearly as bad as Bethany, my dear," Leandra teased.

Carver looked over his shoulder to the dining room, where three earthenware plates stood spotless on one end of the table. "I doubt that," he shot back at his mother. "I bet she ate as much as Merrill and I both will. Have you had any breakfast yet, Mother?"

"No," Leandra admitted, before turning a sharp eye on her son. "And you can make yourself useful by collecting those plates and washing them up for us."

The warrior stood his ground. " Why can't Orana do it?"

Upon mention of the elven servant that Carver had recently rescued while helping Fenris, Leandra turned away from the stove. "Be a dear and keep stirring the eggs," she told Merrill in her best motherly voice, before turning her sharp gaze on her son. "That poor girl has suffered enough, seeing her father murdered by some Tevinter madwoman. I have allowed her in this house because she's nowhere else to go, but she will not be our slave, Carver."

"But I'm paying her," Carver protested. "And she wants to help!"

Leandra was unyielding. "We'll get her situated as Bodahn's assistant soon enough, but in the meantime, you grew up on a farm," she pointed out. "Don't pretend like you've forgotten how to do proper chores ." And then she returned to the stove, rescuing Merrill from the eggs just before they began to burn.

Defeated, Carver trudged back into the dining room and gathered the earthenware plates. It took him hardly any time at all to clean them, given how thorough Bethany must have been when she'd used them earlier, and soon enough all three were piled high with eggs, ham, and bacon. Carver sat down beside Merrill, while Leandra took the chair opposite them on the long table, and the three ate in silence for a few moments.

"It is lovely to have the house so full again," Leandra commented, when Merrill and Carver had stopped wolfing down their breakfast as though it would grow legs and run away. "I don't think it's had this many people in it since shortly after I ran off with your father. If only Bethany could convince that sailor of hers to move in…"

Carver nearly choked on a mouthful of eggs, and had to pound on his chest to force it down. "Y ou, ahh...know about...them?"

The Lady Amell's lips quirked into a knowing smile. "I do have eyes, you know," she commented. "We all shared a meal on your and Bethany's nameday, which you missed," she chided him, only half seriously.

"That was my fault," Merrill breathed. "I'm so sorry!"

The warrior placed a steady hand on the elf's shoulder. "It's alright," he assured her, before looking back to his mother. "I don't really think Isabela is the settling-down type," he said, as evenly as he could .

Leandra tilted her head. "They could hardly keep their eyes off of one another, as I recall," she commented. "And whenever I mentioned finding a suitable husband for Bethany, they both stiffened up like a couple of boards. It was rather adorable, really." The woman giggled at herself. "Don't let them know that I know; I think Bethany wants to keep it a secret."

"She'll not hear a peep from me," Carver vowed. "The less I know about those two, the better."

Merrill elbowed him gently in the ribs. "You're just jealous that Isabela didn't pick you," she chided him, her tattooed cheeks shifting with her impish grin. "I remember how you looked at her when she couldn't see you ."

The warrior threw up his hands. "Not you, too," he lamented, his voice only a hair's breadth away from a laugh. "I swear, I'll get no peace in this house from now on."

The conversation continued sporadically, as the three finished their meal, and Carver couldn't help but agree with his mother that the estate was beginning to feel like a proper home. Leandra reminded them of her weekly visit to her brother in Lowtown, and Carver warned her to be careful on the way, as he wasn't sure when the business with Sebastian would be concluded. Once the plates and pans had been cleaned anew, they made their way into the estate's main sitting room, where Carver hoped to enjoy a bit of leisure time before his sister dragged him off on another mercenary venture. He might have laughed at the irony of Bethany seeking out further work while he was content to remain at home, especially since she hadn't been keen on helping Sebastian Vael in the first place, but he couldn't deny that there were worse fates than having a prince of Starkhaven in his debt. Carver's plans for another few hours with Merrill and his mother were upset, however, when Bethany emerged from the estate's entrance hall with Barcus at her side.

She gleamed in her Grey Warden armour, which let her walk through Kirkwall without fear of getting dragged off to the Gallows, both because she looked nothing like a typical mage and because Athadra had purchased the order's freedom with blood at the very foot of the Viscount's Kee p. "Hello Mother, Merrill," the Warden greeted with a broad smile. "How are you feeling today?"

Leandra told her daughter that all was well, while the elf moved across the floor to scritch at Barcus' ears. The dog leaned into the attention, but he took evident care to keep from tipping Merrill over. "I'm fine," Merrill assured the slightly-elder Hawke. "Aside from having a sore back and needing to use the privy every half-hour, and eating everything in sight," she sighed, though Carver noticed her lips curving into a self-satisfied smile.

Bethany's own smile turned a bit wistful. "It can't be much longer now," she allowed. "And then I'll have a niece to worry about, along with a brother," she teased, throwing Carver a winking glance.

The warrior rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you didn't worry about anything other than darkspawn," he commented. "And trying to keep Athadra from taking your head off, anyway."

He could tell at once that his casual use of their childhood friend's name didn't sit well with his sister, but Bethany didn't see fit to remark upon it . "Are you ready?" She asked, instead, looking back over her shoulder to the anteroom. "Varric and Isabela are already waiting outside."

Carver looked at Merrill and his mother, almost apologetically. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he vowed. "And I'll be careful."

"I know you will," the Dalish elf affirmed, stepping closer, leaning up just slightly to plant a kiss to his smooth jaw. He'd tried growing a beard again, but he couldn't manage more than a few wispy strands, and so he'd taken to shaving regularly once more. "Leandra and I can rearrange the sitting room while you're gone," Merrill mused, looking about them. "I think the writing desk is a bit too close to the fire…"

The Lady Amell nodded her agreement. "I think that's a wonderful idea, darling!"

The warrior chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but knowing all too well not to comment on the Dalish elf's newfound fondness for moving furniture...or at least watching Bodahn move it at her behest. "I hope I don't trip over the divan on my way back ," he said, leaning in for a brief kiss of his own before he turned back to Bethany. "Lead on, Hawke," Carver offered, unable to conceal a smirk.

Bethany was in the midst of rolling her eyes when the dwarf, Bodahn Feddic, cleared his throat and stepped through the doorway. "Messeres, I present Serah Bran Newcombe, Seneschal of Kirkwall," he announced, somewhat apologetically.

As soon as Bodahn stepped aside, the seneschal picked his way into the room, his rust-coloured eyes sweeping over the Hawkes' possessions with obvious disinterest. "Such a...humble home, you've made for yourselves," Bran commented, before his gaze settled pointedly upon Bethany.

"How can we help you, seneschal?" The Warden said in greeting, though her tone was far from helpful.

Carver didn't feel content to let his sister speak for the family in their own home. "What are you doing here?" He demanded of the man, turning to face him more fully.

Bran must have had the tact to keep from looking affronted, for he smiled at the warrior even as Leandra reproached Carver for being rude, before his attention returned to the Warden. "The viscount has entrusted me to deal with a matter of some delicacy," he informed her. "And I have judged it prudent to delegate the matter to you. Might we speak more privily?"

Bethany spared her brother with a frustrated glance that held a promise to tell him everything later. "If we must," she allowed, nodding for Bran to precede her back into the anteroom. When she emerged from it a few minutes later, looking annoyed, the seneschal didn't follow her into the sitting room.

Carver's brow drew down. "What was that all about?"

The Warden took a long, slow breath, letting it out in a ragged sigh. "The viscount's son has gone missing," she informed them, her fists clenching at her sides. "And he's asked me to look into it, personally, since I've had dealings with the Arishok and Saemus has likely gone there to join up with the Qunari." She shook her head, either at the boy's foolishness or her own. "I've said I would look into it."

"Great," Carver replied. "What are we going to tell Sebastian?"

"I'm not telling him anything," Bethany shot back. "You'll take Varric and Isabela to help him, just as we promised we would. You might want to get Anders to come along, too, in case things get messy."

The warrior blinked, unused to the cool commanding tone his sister had taken. "And...what? Leave you to walk into the Qunari compound all alone?"

Bethany shook her head. "I'll get Nathaniel and Fae to come with me," she told him. "The Qunari seem to respect the Grey Wardens. We'll see if that helps get some answers ." Her face and voice softened as she turned to Leandra. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Mother," she vowed.

The elder woman looked torn between pride and fear. "You take care," she commanded her children. "Both of you."

Carver and Bethany promised to do so, and they filed out of the estate together, where the Rivaini pirate and the beardless dwarf stood waiting a bit less than patiently for them. When Bethany explained the situation, however, Isabela and Varric seemed all too happy to let her go on her separate path, leaving it up to Carver to fulfill her promise to the Chantryman .

Carver was grateful for his sister's advice, as he hung his greatblade on its wall hooks in the estate's foyer; what should have been a simple clean-up job on a rival noble family had turned into a fierce battle against demons and the undead, and Anders' presence as a healer and a fighter had proved invaluable. As far as Carver and his companions could piece together, the Harimann matriarch was an apostate mage who'd struck a deal with a demon of desire, borne out of her ambition for her family to rule Starkhaven. The political details were a bit beyond the warrior's concern, but he knew that the Harimanns had orchestrated the massacre of Sebastian's family, which was enough to justify the prince's thirst for revenge. That the revenge had been more difficult than anticipated only increased Sebastian's gratitude, and he'd vowed that the Hawkes would get a proper reward once he'd reclaimed Starkhaven from the Harimann puppet currently serving as its prince.

All in all, though, the warrior was happy to come home. Anders was the only companion to follow him back to the estate, claiming a desire to check on Merrill, which Carver was only too happy to allow. He and the renegade mage might have had their differences, but in the last two years, they'd become something approaching friends, especially since Merrill had grown heavy with child.

The braziers were burning merrily as Carver stepped into the sitting room, but at once he could tell something was amiss. Gamlen stood across the room, apparently losing an argument with Sandal, whose singular reply of "Enchantment!" to the old man's increasingly-furious demands might have been hilarious if not for Gamlen's actual words.

"Leandra," the man intoned. "Lee-ann-draa! Have you seen her?"

Carver's eyes narrowed just as Gamlen growled. "She's supposed to be with you," he pointed out. "Or even back by now."

The other man looked affronted. "Well, I haven't seen her," he exclaimed. "Been waiting around the house all day for the woman, but she never showed."

"Enchantment?" Sandal asked, almost tentatively.

"Enough of your ruddy enchantments," Gamlen snapped. "Foolish idiot dwarf! Where in blazes is Leandra?"

Ice lanced down Carver's spine. "Where is Merrill? Or Bodahn?"

A blonde-haired elven woman emerged from a shadowed corner. "Mistress Merrill is at bath," she said, haltingly. "Master Bodahn carry water." She bit her lip, clearly distressed, but unable to express herself in the King's Tongue.

Anders finally spoke up, speaking rapid Arcanum, which the elven servant was only too happy to answer with. Carver did not wait for the man's report, however; he bounded up the stairs as quickly as he dared, seeking out the bath chamber. Bodahn indeed stood before it as though on guard, and he beamed proudly at the warrior. "Messere Carver," he said in greeting. "Mistress Merrill will be happy to know you've returned! She's right inside," he told the man, slipping to one side.

Carver's nod sufficed for a reply as he pushed through the door, his heart only easing when he saw that Merrill was indeed lounging in the claw-footed tub. "There you are," he sighed, giving the Dalish elf a relieved smile.

Merrill looked confused. "Where else would I be ?"

Carver's lips quirked into a frown. "Is Mother here, in the estate? Gamlen says she hasn't been by…"

The elf sat up higher in the water, her brows knitting. "Leandra said she was just going to head out when I came up here, probably half an hour ago," she mused. "I really should have gone with her, but she wouldn't hear of it," Merrill added, biting her lip. "Perhaps Gamlen just missed her?"

"That must be it," Carver replied. "I'll go down and tell him." With a long backward glance, the warrior made his way back down to the estate's sitting room, though the mood had grown even more tense in his absence. Bethany had just arrived, looking thoroughly disgusted, but Anders seemed anxious. Before Bethany could relate what had got her so upset, the renegade mage began relaying Orana's observations; evidently, a man had shown up unannounced at the door just after Bodahn had taken Merrill up for her bath, and Leandra had left with him of her own accord. Just as Carver was about to remark on how ridiculous that notion was, his eyes caught upon a handful of flowers, left in a glass vase at the end of the writing desk. When he drew closer, he recognised them- a dozen white lilies.