Merrill sighed in relief as she put her feet up in Hawke's lap.
"Thank you," she said with a smile, "I am so unused to wearing heels anymore."
"Me too," Hawke replied, "We haven't gone out in ages."
Aveline looked over briefly at her watch and Hawke playfully struck it away.
"All of the babies are at home and asleep," Hawke said with a smirk, "Goodness. The minute you have a baby, you're no fun anymore. Look at Neria. She's been married a year and she's still fun and hip."
Hawke gestured over to Fenris' young wife who blushed and replied, "Actually, we're thinking about trying to start a family. He'd be such a good father."
Hawke faked indignation, "I give up. Go phone Varric and make sure they're all alive still."
"Hawke," Aveline grumbled, "It's my first night away. I just keep thinking Varric is going to read out naughty stories to him and feed him beer."
"I don't know what naughty stories he would read," Merrill reassured, "He's been in writer's block for weeks now. He's writing the final one of his Star Empire series and he's been going back and forth on killing the main character off. Something about every good hero needs to die. It's quite silly how serious he takes these smut stories."
Aveline snuck away to use the phone and Neria took another drink.
"So…you and Fenris are serious about kids?" Hawke asked, trying to sound indifferent.
"Don't give me that look," Neria rolled her eyes, "I know that look. Yes. And yes, he's alternating between loving it and freaking out."
"Men are always like that," Merrill reassured, "Then they fall in love when they hold their baby. It's adorable. Happens almost every time."
"I hope you're right," Neria said gently, "He keeps worrying we'll have another mage in the family. My twin sister was in the Tower in Ferelden, you know."
Hawke looked carefully at the elf sitting across from her and shivered. She thought quietly of Cullen as she drank her pint.
"How about you, Hawke?" Neria asked kindly, "The thought must have crossed your mind at least once. That Anders is so pretty, he would make beautiful babies."
Hawke was about to give her standard response about the taint, but paused, watching Aveline walk back to the table.
"I am aunt to four lovely children," Hawke said smiling, "That's enough for me. They keep me busy enough."
"All four are asleep," Aveline replied, "Varric is apparently losing quite badly at poker to Anders. Fenris finds this very amusing."
The table laughed and gossiped, Hawke feeling her smile growing false as time went on. Merrill pulled Neria to the dance floor, the two married women dancing as the Hung Man grew crowded with it's Saturday night regulars.
Aveline pulled her chair closer to Hawke and said quietly, "How long has it been going on?"
Hawke drank, "I don't know what you mean."
"You're not happy, Hawke," Aveline said quietly, "It's not all the time and maybe I'm not the best to judge, we've only been in each others' lives again for a few weeks. But you seem…lonely. Are things not going well with Anders?"
"It's just a rough patch," Hawke promised, "We've both been busy and we just want each other safe. We'll work through it."
"That's it? You can tell me, Hawke. If he's hurting you-"
"Oh for the Maker's sake," Hawke said, putting her glass down angrily. Aveline's eyes widened slightly and Hawke buried her head in her hands.
"I'm sorry," Hawke said, wiping away a tear, "I know you mean well. I shouldn't…"
"I've been going to the Women's Centre down the street," Aveline said quietly, "Maybe it's making me hyper aware…I don't know. But I just know you deserve to be happy and if you're not happy anymore, you have the right to leave."
"I know," Hawke said, "But we'll be okay. He's a good man."
Aveline held out her hand, "Come on, Hawke. Let's go dance."
Hawke smiled, taking Aveline's hand as they made their way to the floor. The music slowed and they held each other protectively. The love was growing again. It was familial; Hawke felt as if she was gaining a sister again.
For the first time in many weeks, she felt unconditionally loved. She wanted to cry, but instead, she just held on.
She was drunk when she arrived back at the apartment. She meant to go to bed and not say anything until morning.
Anders was waiting for her, reading quietly in their living room when she came in. He put down his book and went to her side.
They watched each other without touching, waiting for the other to speak first.
"I miss you," she whispered.
He bent down, kissing her softly. They held each other gently. It felt familiar, but there was a tension there that was new, that was just beyond her capability to describe.
They melted into each other, kissing as they made their way back to the bed. They laid down side by side, fully clothed, his arm loosely around her body.
She felt a tear run down her face and she closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.
Hawke woke, hungover and exhausted. She could smell Anders cooking in the next room. He used to sing whenever he cooked, little songs from the Anderfels she could not understand.
Now he was muttering to himself in Common, practicing the lines of his tracts before he brought them to be photocopied. He was stuck on the wording of a sentence, trying to decide on the proper adjective to describe the conditions in the Gallows.
Hawke sighed and rolled over. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep. She heard the door open. Anders sat beside her, knowing she was awake.
"We should talk," he said quietly, "why don't you get dressed? I've made breakfast. You should eat something."
Hawke unwillingly rose from the bed as Anders left the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, running her hands through her hair. She forced herself to change into jeans and a t-shirt and walked out into their living room.
Anders was already at the dinette set, picking at his eggs as he waited for her. She sat down, not wanting to look up at him. She served herself as he started eating, her hand oddly trembling as did so.
"Did you girls have fun last night?" Anders asked weakly.
Hawke laughed sadly, "Yeah…yeah I guess we did."
Anders was quiet again as he drank from his cup of coffee.
"Whatever it is…" Hawke said softly, "I can handle it. Just talk to me."
"I have been thinking a lot lately," Anders said gently, "I…I can handle what you do for this city. And you are patient with me…more patient than I could ask for. We both want the same things, the same rights and freedoms for all in this city. But…I feel…I want to keep you safe. But you're not mine to keep safe. You're not a delicate flower. You're the strongest woman I know. Tougher than me, certainly. But…I feel I need to protect you. But I feel…there's more important things than you and I…yet…"
"Anders," Hawke asked, "What are you trying to say?"
"Are you happy, Hawke?" He asked suddenly.
She frowned, "Usually, yes. It's been hard lately, Anders. But we've been together over a year. We have a place together, a life. I know these past few weeks have been hard…but we'll work through it."
"It's not going to get better again," Anders said gently, "It is only going to get worse…and quickly."
"And there you go, being cryptic and cynical again," Hawke grumbled.
"I thought…I thought it would be better once I was with you. I thought I could let go of…this anger. I thought I could be a husband, maybe even a father…I thought…I thought it would be enough."
"But you can't stop being a martyr?" Hawke asked angrily, "Because you still think you don't deserve this?"
"Do I? Every other mage can be left to rot suddenly because someone loves me now?"
"It's never going to be enough for you," Hawke said, standing, "You always think you need to do more. You're going to kill yourself off because you can't stand the guilt of possibly enjoying something in life."
"No," Anders said, his hand going to his forehead, "This isn't what I wanted…this isn't how I wanted…"
"Then just say it. Tell me what you're thinking. Just actually talk to me."
Anders bowed his head and said softly, "I can't. That's the problem. I can't…I don't know why, I don't know why…I want to be open with you, to tell you everything, to be true partners…but every time I try…"
"Do you not trust me?" She asked.
"I do," he reassured, "I just…I worry. I worry that the more you know, the more in danger you will be…the more in danger others will be. I can't give you what you want. Not and still do what I need to do."
Hawke did not want to bring it up, not the phone calls she had heard late at night, but the words slipped out before she could stop them, "Could you tell Nathaniel?"
Anders looked up at her as if he had been slapped. She wanted to sweep him into her arms and pretend it had not been sad, or to apologize profusely. But she needed to hear it.
Anders sat back down and said gently, "Yes."
Hawke wanted to cry as she asked, "And why can you talk to him and not me?"
Anders said softly, "I love you. You know that."
"I know," Hawke murmured, "I know. But you need…you need to tell me."
Anders sighed, "I'm worried you'll stop me. That you don't realize how important my work is. I'm worried you'll beg me to stop and that I still won't. Because he's always understood. And you…you need to be loved, above all. And I don't know if I can do that for you."
"And he's willing to be second best?" Hawke laughed darkly.
"It's not like that. He's phoned only twice this year. Command is wearing him out. I…I can understand that. We've just talked. I have always been faithful to you."
"I'm not worried about that," Hawke replied, "I'm worried you think I'm some diva who thinks she's the center of the universe."
"I don't think that," Anders said softly, "I just…I love you. But…there are more important things than us. I want a world where someone like me can love someone like you and nothing will tear them apart."
"And yet you're letting this tear us apart," she said gently.
Anders got up, "I need to go to the clinic. I can't…"
"I'm going to Varric's," she replied, standing up, "I can't be here right now."
She glanced at him as she grabbed her coat and keys. He did not speak as she left the apartment, closing the door behind her.
The early spring sun shone on them as they rested in the Tethras family's backyard. Theron ran with his mother, Merrill pretending to be a great Varateral. Aveline sat nearby, smiling as her infant son slept in her arms. The twins played by her feet in a sandbox Varric had constructed, tossing sand out of each other's buckets.
Varric kept a loose eye on them as he opened a beer and handed it over to Hawke. She took it with a sigh, lying back in the chair.
"First fine day we've had all year," he said with a smile as he opened his, "I think we're going to have a beautiful summer. Not all rainy and dreary and Fereldeny like last year."
"Fereldeny?" Hawke laughed, "Merrill's right. You are in writer's block."
"It's just tricky, Hawke," he explained, "I really like my heroine. I want her to live and get married and have babies. It's a good life. I don't want to kill her off. But I feel like it cheapens it to give her a happy ending."
"You sound like Anders," Hawke commented, drinking from her can.
Varric smiled softly, "He's got a point. From a literary standpoint, anyways."
"…is it worth it?" Hawke asked.
"What is?"
"This," Hawke asked, gesturing to the backyard, "You went from bachelor to papa within a year. Three little ones, a town house, being respectable. Don't you ever get bored? Don't you feel…"
"I was bored all my life," Varric explained, "Doing business here and here with the Lowtown BIA. But Daisy…life with her is amazing. It's not being the Champion, but I prefer to not be all that responsible. I love my work. I love my children. I love my wife. This is the adventure, Hawke. It's not for everyone. But I don't want anything else."
Hawke drank again, watching Aveline stop Lyna from ingesting a small insect.
"What do you want, Hawke?" Varric asked, a strange softness entering his voice.
"I think about Ferelden," she said softly, "I think of when I was young…we were on the run for most of my childhood. My Dad died not long after we settled down. And it was hard. I worked and worked. Then…for what? Carver, Mom…they're gone now. I may never see Bethany again. It's just…me. I did so much for them….and what did it matter? Now Anders…I get the impulse. I feel it too. I feel like I need to be worthy, that I need to prove that…"
"That you deserved to live, even when they died?"
Hawke bowed her head and chuckled, "That sounds so stupid. But I guess he and I aren't that different after all."
"It's your life, Hawke," Varric said gently.
Varric drank and said, "It's not my business. But I want to ask you something as a friend and pseudo-biographer. Consider it research for my book."
Hawke smiled, "Alright. What is it?"
"Why did you shoot the Arishok?"
"It was a duel, Varric."
"You're a noble woman, Hawke. But nobody is that noble. No one goes up to the plate like that unless there's something worth dying for. So what was it for you?"
"Isabela," Hawke stated, looking away from him.
Varric nodded, looking back out at his children.
"Is it strange to love more than one person?" Hawke asked.
"Nah. You should see what the nobles get up to in Orzammar. And among the Dalish. They like that sort of thing…my point is, if you still have feelings for her…and Blondie has feelings for the Nose…then you can still make it work. If you want to. You just need to figure out what you want, Hawke."
"I can't have Isabela," Hawke stated, "I don't think I deserve her and…"
"I haven't heard from her either, Hawke. Not since you were in prison, at least."
Hawke sighed as Aveline walked up to them, Ben wrapped up in her arms. Hawke took the baby from her as Aveline went inside to lie down. He was still so small in her arms, cooing at her touch. He recognized her somehow, soothed by her touch and happy in her arms.
"Hi Ben," Hawke smiled, stroking his cheek.
Varric leaned in, smiling, "Now that's a picture. Let me get my camera."
Varric got up to go into the house as Merrill scooped up the twins, bringing them inside with her. Theron toddled up to Hawke, sitting on her knees and watching the baby in fascination.
"You're enjoying having another boy around," Hawke said, "Aren't you?"
Theron nodded happily and asked, "Can I hold him?"
"Be very very careful," Hawke said, sitting Theron in her lap before sliding Ben into the child's arms. Theron smiled, tickling the baby's chin. Hawke looked up as the door slid open and Varric emerged, camera in hand.
"Say cheese!"
Theron smiled, "Cheese!"
Hawke could not help but smile as Varric took the picture.
