Javeen woke with a start. Another nightmare. She got up quickly, the swaying of the boat finally churning her stomach just enough. She rushed to the edge of the boat, retching up her poor supper of stale bread. She leaned against the edge, half out of the boat and gasping.

Funny. The first trip to Kirkwall wasn't like this. She didn't get sick then.

She felt a hand on her back, gripping at her loose shirt to make sure she didn't fall into the deep. An elderly elf who was hadn't said a word to her this whole voyage. He stayed there with her, even as ten, fifteen minutes passed, keeping a hand gripped tightly on her lifeline. Eventually, Javeen dragged her sorry self back onto the deck, and crumpled into a sobbing mess. And after that, the elderly elf slept beside her every night.

When they reached shore a week later, the man left her still without a word. She took a deep breath of familiar Ferelden air, and began the trek towards the ruins of Lothering.

Cassandra was smiling. Not an expression Varric was used to seeing. If only she wasn't smiling at this part of the story.

"The Champion defeated the Arishok in a duel? It sounds so...romantic."

Varric made a joke, he was still good at that, but his insides turned to fire. Nothing about that duel was romantic. Maker...he closed his eyes, unable to put that memory out of his mind. It still haunted his dreams. How the Arishok damaged the Keep with every swing of his axes. How Hawke died every time she hit him. He forced himself to open his eyes.

Hawke would have liked it if that was the end of her story. But the world was cruel.

"So, what happened after that? I heard she gave the qunari a ship and let them go. Odd decision, as they were her enemies."

His throat closed up slightly. "That's-no, that's...at that point, she just wanted them out of Kirkwall. Surely, you understand that."

And he was back there, standing beside her as she demanded the qunari be given a ship with her own money. She was covered in blood. She never looked at the qunari directly. Meredith was argumentative and demanded to know why she was doing such a thing, but Hawke threw all her money to do it, so there were no arguments. She was designated Champion after all.

And even as she gave away all of her gold, and the qunari went back home, Kirkwall awarded her a hefty sum for saving it. In front of everyone, on a pedestal, given an award. She laughed hysterically and ran to the Hanged Man, drinking herself into a pathetic stupor.

It was that laugh that still gave him nightmares.

Cassandra nodded. "Yes, I suppose I understand that."

Oh, what a relief. Varric wanted to roll his eyes, but he resisted. It worked. She didn't know the truth. And he wasn't going to tell her where she was. Hawke was safe.

"Continue your tale."

Varric leaned back and sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Fire blazed in the fireplace of Hawke manor. Javeen slumped against the chair, too fancy and expensive for her taste. She was getting blood all over it. She hadn't changed, hadn't bathed since she got back. It was late into the next day, long past midnight as she stared into those flames, brain just like the burning logs.

She couldn't stop thinking about the fight. Arzhela sat next to her, propped up against the chair.

She couldn't escape the memory.

The arrow that plunged into his chest.

She grabbed Arzhela, holding it on her lap.

She ran to his side as he collapsed. Her face a bloody mess, her neck bruises still deepening black. She didn't care that they were from him. She tried pulling the arrow out of him, foolishly so-it would do nothing. With the last of his strength, he closed his hand around hers.

"Enough."

"I-I didn't want-I don't want this!" Why hadn't he moved-why?

"No..." he whispered quietly. "I did not either."

He rested his head against the staircase he laid against. "I die in the Qun. That is...that is the only end for the Arishok. It is a good death."

"I wanted you to live," she sobbed.

He smiled. "I am the Qun, Hawke. I live so long as it lives."

Then he closed his eyes and never opened them again.

Tears ran down Javeen's face as she stared into the fire. When she left, leaving a note behind for Merrill, Arzhela burned in the fireplace.

Lothering was still a ruin. It was terrible but, Javeen didn't feel a deep sadness seeing her old home in shambles. Maybe it was because they had moved around so much as kids, nowhere really felt like home. Ferelden as a whole felt more like it.

There were warnings not to get too close to the village; maybe people still thought that it could infect you with the Blight, even years later. Superstitious.

But that was okay. She didn't plan on lingering here. She set off towards the hills nearby.

The trees were still lush as ever. At least the darkspawn didn't destroy this place. She guessed they only really cared about destroying people, not nature. She walked for hours, deeper and deeper into the bush. She took a break near a tiny stream, watched a hummingbird take a cool bath nearby.

She hiked for another hour, until she reached it. A small cove, hidden by heavy brush and plants. She walked through the curtain of tree branches and stepped inside, walking towards the man made altar at the far end. It was several stones stacked on top of each other, in front a small pool of water. Moss grew all around it, and up the stones. She had made it, many, many years ago. This place had been his favourite place to go. Where he gathered wood for his work. Where he went when he needed to get away for a few moments. He had been cremated in Lothering and a headstone was there, but this is where she had made his monument.

She sighed. "Hello, father."

She began the careful process of taking one stone off the top at a time, until she reached the bottom stone. "Sorry. I'll put it back again after."

She reached behind her, taking the chain of the necklace she wore over her head. Mother's necklace shone bright in this place, the amber a nice contrast to the white stone and deep green of the trees and moss. She tucked the chain underneath the bottom stone, and started to stack them again.

She sat back when she was finished. The heaviness of the stones would keep any nosy wildlife from taking it, and it was hidden away enough that people probably wouldn't find it. Eventually, the moss would grow over it.

She waited for his smoky image to appear like he had before. He never did. She sat there for a long time waiting for a ghost that was probably always just in her head. How stupid is that?

"What would you do?" she said out loud, as if he would answer her.

Birds chirped. No answer came. Until-

"I think he would tell you that only you can answer that."

Javeen didn't jump. It was a voice she trusted the most in this world. "You followed me, Merrill?"

She sat on her legs next to her, looking rather sheepish. "I...I tracked you, yes. With blood. Your note had a lot on it. I'm sorry if that's creepy."

Javeen shook her head. If she was creeped out by bloodmagic now they certainly wouldn't be together.

"I was...worried. That you might disappear or-or hurt yourself."

"That's a reasonable assumption."

She latched onto her arm. "Hawke- Javeen. What do you want to do?"

Javeen stared at the gravesite of both her parents. "I don't know. Disappearing or hurting myself does sound good."

Merrill squeezed harder.

"...but that wouldn't solve anything. That would only hurt you. And I've done enough of that."

"So you'll..."

"I'm going to lose the manor. I gave all my money away." She smiled at that. It was something to look forward to now.

Merrill shook her head. "I don't care. I don't care where we live. I just need you."

Javeen nodded, running a hand down the stones. "And I have a sister to save."