Chapter XXVII

In Conclusion

A/N: Same chapter as before, but with about another page worth of content. Sorry I ended it so abruptly before. Hopefully this helps a bit. I am also slowly editing the rest of the chapters but not as much as this one. I also used Blurb to print this out as a book which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done.

Hawke stayed very still, wanting to run but her legs would not obey her. They felt heavy and individualized, no longer a working unit that used to get her out of uncomfortable situations like this. What was he playing at? If Aedan had an end game she could not imagine what it was and considering the raunchiness of her latest dreams imagination was not a thing she lacked.

"Do you want to run that by me again?" Hawke asked in a voice that cracked like a child's.

Aedan looked suddenly weary. This was not a dance he had meant to partake in yet; he had hoped to eat first. "I meant with your permission. I want to court you. And I must confess I am not practiced at it, though my mother made sure that I learned the basics. Flowers and such. Jewelry. Though for you, perhaps, some new boots...Antivan leather, I've been told is-"

"You're joking," she accused the man that rarely joked. "I've just been kicked out of Ferelden. I sold my estate to a mercenary so he'd murder a man that was only indirectly involved with my mother's death." She stopped to take a breath. "You've seen my magic, my real magic. What it is. I'm not exactly a catch, blue-blood."

"Are you saying you wish me to stop?"

"I'm saying you need to get your mind examined. All that darkspawn blood you lot chug must finally be getting to you." She stretched suddenly, tugging helplessly at the laces that ran down her chest. "Why is this so bloody tight? I can't think with this thing on."

There was no way there was any correlation between those two things. Aedan would have offered to help loosen her corset but feared it would be taken out of context. Or hoped it would be. He plowed on earnestly. "I asked a question and while we all enjoy your daily blathering on I need an answer. A straight forward answer." Aedan didn't move any closer but he did tun to the side so that he was no longer blocking the doorway. "I do intend to court you, but if you wish that I did not I will stop this now. I don't want a question in return, Marian. I want your permission. I want you to want me. Whether or not you deserve a flood of bouquets arriving at your door is irrelevant."

Her laugh was broken. "I don't even have a door for you to send them to."

"Marian," he said softly and while only slightly irritated.

"I suppose," she spoke slowly, letting the words find themselves, "you can send them to the Hanged Man. But Varric's going to write about this and I won't be able to stop him-"

He did move towards her then but she flinched away like a nervous filly. Aedan thought she might have even kicked like one had he not halted his advancement. They were going to be late for dinner if this continued on its current path. It was a path to nowhere, with stops and bends only for Hawke's self deprecating montages. "Marian, we don't have a lot of time together," he began, knowing he had to make his point now or never. "You're going back to Kirkwall. I'm going back to Vigil's Keep and then possibly the Deep Roads. Before we separate I want to make a few things perfectly clear. I want you. I want to write you. Now, if I'm getting in the way of something I'll back off. And I'm not asking you to wait for me. Just asking that you read what I send you. If that seems permissible to you then-"

She huffed, cutting him off with a solid, "Talk common. I'm not in the mind to decipher your flowery words."

That was certainly a new accusation, especially coming from a woman. "Then let us take a walk."

"Outside?" Her voice clipped halfway through the word. "We'll freeze to death."

"You'll keep me warm."

"That's likely. All the snuggling in Thedas isn't going to do shit against a Ferelden winter."

"I meant with magic."

"Oh. That is likely."

They went to the ramparts and buried themselves in a corner. Hawke quickly summoned a solid blue flame to battle the winter cold, but there was nothing to be done with the winds. As blistering cold as it was, there was something about being able to see the land for miles around them being blanketed in deep, undisturbed snow. She could scarcely hear Aedan's voice over the howling winds even with his mouth nearly tickling her right ear.

"I don't want you to feel pressured. I want to be your friend. Well, I want more than that but I need that at a minimum." His breath was warm. "May I write you? I know we'll be far apart and perhaps because of our separate duties we may never meet again. But I have seen many friends leave and I have always regretted not working harder to preserve our friendship." He regretted more than that. He wanted to follow each of his companions after the blight, to see Par Vollen, to watch Leliana try to change the Chantry, to help Zevran destroy the Crows...But he could not be pulled in a dozen different directions at once. Hell, he couldn't be moved in the direction of his own flesh and blood. And Aedan knew with Hawke he may be made to make the same decision. To choose his perceived duty over adventure or happiness. But one day there might not be a need to make that choice. Or there may be a time where he could choose differently.

He could almost even convince himself of that, especially with Hawke's mouth moving slowly against his own.

"It's cold out here," she said when she pulled away.

He held her hands and blew warm air into them, trying to rub life back into her fingers at the same time. "It's always cold here. You're going to have to get used to that when you come back."

Her laughter was quiet. "You said there was no pressure, blue-blood."

"There's no pressure, but I may make a few suggestions now and then."

They had missed dinner and had to resort to eating a cold, quick meal in the kitchen. But with Hawke sitting on the counter, filching dried fruits and chocolates and telling him about the time she and Varric stole an Orlesian noblewoman's pet bird and taught it to say "Long live King Alistair", Aedan couldn't have imagined a better meal. They ate and then Hawke followed him back to his room, ripping off her corset halfway there.

Aedan worked on stoking the fire while Hawke shimmied out of her skirts and resorted to wearing some of his old clothing. She had to walk around with one hand holding up her breeches which was endearing in an odd sort of way.

She fell asleep almost immediately. She hadn't said much before bed. Aedan watched her write down very carefully a few different ways to contact her in Kirkwall.

It was hard to sleep next to someone again. Every now and again Hawke would roll over and head butt him. Somehow she would remain asleep despite the head trauma they were both suffering. But forgetting the bumps and bruises, Aedan slept well. Better than he would have without her.

The morning was quiet. He sent for new clothes for her and after they dressed they had breakfast alone. Hawke, like always, handled most of the conversation. She told jokes and kissed him and stole his bacon when she thought he wasn't looking.

They had to part for most of the day. Hawke and her friends had arrangements to finalize regarding their journey home. Aedan helped with repairs around Cousland Castle. They spent meals together and the nights together, feeling a crazy sense of certainty though nothing at all was settled.

There was a ship docked in Amaranthine waiting to take Hawke and her companions home. Isabela and Fenris were already on board. Even more awkward than spending the past few nights together was saying so suddenly farewell. Aedan and a few of his family's remaining guards escorted them to the docks. Hawke suspected that Aedan had adorned his full Warden armour just to give her the grandest image of him to remember.

It was very noble of him. Hawke swallowed the laughter erupting due to her own pun and threw her arms around him despite the pounds of armor separating them.

Aedan caught her with a startled laugh, they kissed, and Varric made a noise very similar to a choking darkspawn. The warden then whispered something to her that made even Hawke blush before they parted.

Hawke knew that her journey home would be filled with Varric's incessant questioning and his perverted need to know all details of her life. She obliged only because she knew if she let him fill in the blanks she'd have been rumored as the new Lady Cousland before the day was done. The one thing she wouldn't tell her best friend were the words Aedan had left her with. Those were for her and her alone. In a life void of privacy, she wanted that sentence for herself.

The journey home was uncomfortable but ultimately meant nothing. It was the arrival that was important. Would there be a Templar greeting for her, heading by none other than Meredith? Or would there be something even worse?

The docks were empty for their homecoming but Fenris said he could feel they were being watched. Hawke believed him. If news of what Hawke was truly capable of had reached Kirkwall, perhaps they were afraid and watchful and nothing else. Like normal.

A letter was waiting for her at the Hanged Man. Delivered to her personally by Meeran. Her former mercenary boss handed her a sealed envelope and returned the deed to her estate. He had a knighthood waiting for him back in Ferelden and her deed was the price he would gladly pay. It was all part of her courtship the letter assured her and it would be best for everyone for her to just accept the grand gesture and move on. And by move on Lord Cousland meant move back in to her own ancestral home.

He sent flowers, too.

Hawke had expected this, whatever this was, to end after a few months. It had gotten to the point that she could smell her way home.

There were flowers everywhere. Orana was besides herself trying to find places to fit them all. Today had been no exception. Hawke had had to wade through a sea of Lowtown children, each one with an armful of wild flowers. Aedan Cousland certainly made it difficult to refuse the grand gesture. She had written him many times, each to no avail.

It's not for you, he had written. I want everyone to see that you're being pursued.

His letters were no less flowery. Some of them Hawke had let Isabela read which the pirate captain did and then asked if she could keep them.

Had she known a courtship would be quite so embarrassing Hawk never would have agreed to it. He was teasing her. This was payback for every nickname or joke she had ever made about him. She couldn't do the same. Hawke was better in person. She hadn't the attention span to plan out jokes whose results would take weeks to reach her.

Hawke attempted to ignore the ridiculousness of it all and focused on building her friendships anew. Unfortunately she had been focusing on the wrong companion.

Not killing Anders had felt wrong. She had known it was the wrong thing to do. He deserved it. She understood his frustration better than anyone but this? She wished not for the first or last time that she could ask for her father's opinion. She could not bring herself to do it, even among the wreckage of the Chantry.

She could have asked Fenris to do it. He would have gladly. But instead she sent Anders away, knowing he would need the extra time to escape.

Escaping herself proved less difficult than she had imagine. Cullen let them walk away. Whether it was out of respect or fear she didn't think she'd ever know.

Her companions parted ways soon after. She didn't have the strength or ability to convince them to stay. Balancing their likes and dislikes and motivations and fears over the years had proved too much for her in the end. Instead Hawke and her brother left for Ferelden. Alone.

She had imagined meeting Aedan Cousland again in different circumstances. Being branded a radical murderer and soaking wet down to her bones was not what she had dreamed.

Aedan seemed to have been expecting her. Whether he had been hoping that she would find him or had known it was the most logical choice, she didn't want to know. Instead she threw her rain-soaked cloak to the floor and stood there, uncertain and cold and scared.

There were a hundred questions that needed to be asked. Where was Anders? What had actually happened? Had Kirkwall been abandoned or had someone finally taken charge?

Had he been there he would have seized control himself but he wasn't an apostate who's friend blew up a place of worship.

Instead of saying anything Aedan picked up her wet cloak and hung it up to dry. His scouts had seen the Hawkes coming and he had prepared accordingly.

She looked up at him, wary and ready for a barrage of questions she had anticipated. Instead he began working on removing her armor. He settled for asking only, "Did you like the flowers, Marian?"

"What?" Hawke let him undress her, eyeing the steaming tub she had just noticed in the corner. "I mean, I would call them excessive if anything."

"There are worse things to be called."

It wasn't too long before she was naked before him and he picked her up bridal style and gently lowered her into the tub. She was embarrassed by how casual he was being about everything. Aedan sat near the tub, and while she was scrubbing dirt and blood out of her hair, he laid out "the plan".

"There is a route through the Deep Roads that will take us out into the Wilds. I believe your brother will be safe to stay with us, though I'm going to keep him in the Deep Roads until things cool down in the Free Marches."

She sunk further down into the tub. "You're putting your reputation at risk."

"I can't count how many times I've done that and not given a fuck."

"I know you have questions." Hawke frowned pointedly. "You're just being nice."

"And let me be nice to you," he countered and left to bring her a towel. "Tonight we rest. There will be time enough tomorrow to be running for our lives."

Incredulous, she repeated, "Our lives?" She stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around her shoulders.

"Yes." Aedan took nothing back. "Remember, I haven't stopped courting you." He grabbed her chin before kissing her. "I think I'll quite like fixing your messes. I've missed a challenge."

She was startled into a laugh which multiplied into giggles as he swooped in and planted kisses all over her face.

They would always be fighting to stay together, Aedan realized. But he didn't think there were any two people that were better at fighting for what seemed like lost causes.

"Now do I really need to go on? You can't be really believing any of this, Seeker? I mean, the timelines don't even make sense. I know I'm wrote the book but I'm even tired of my own bullshit." Varric explained, shrugging nonchalantly and then asked for an ale. "C'mon, Seeker. I've been telling stories for hours now. Don't you have anyone better looking to torture? Huh, I guess not."

Cassandra had to clench her fingers in an effort to keep from biting her fingernails with anxiety. "You haven't finished, dwarf! Where is Hawke? Where is the Warden? You've made friends, co-conspirators of both of them and you expect me to believe that you have no idea where they are?"

She refused to take the hint. "I know you've read my little novella, The Champion and the Warden." Varric cleared his throat, irritated at the absence of a good, stiff drink to get him through having to be reminded that he and Hawke weren't currently attached at the hip like old times. "You know how this ends. Hawke and Cousland go into the Deep Roads together to search for a cure. It makes sense. Her brother needs it as well. All the loose ends were tied up with a cliché happily ever after. Actually, I guess vanishing into the Deep Roads is less than romantic but look who I was working with. Granted, it didn't sell quite as well as my other literature but..."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that, Varric?"

She sounded exasperated. Varric knew the feeling. He had spent the past few days telling tale after tale about Hawke and their merry band of misfits. Finally, he threw up his hands in defeat. "Seeker, I don't expect you to believe any of it. I was just trying to sell a few more books. Do you really think Hawke met the Warden? I mean, we met a lot of people we shouldn't logically have... But the Warden wasn't one. I don't think the man has left Ferelden...ever. And why would he? They have...beets and dirt. Who wouldn't want to leave?"

She had been about to reach for her dagger, presumably to stab another piece of quality literature when his words made her go very quiet. "What?"

There was no way to play this out in his favor so Varric just tried the truth. Always a risky move and never one he recommended. "Hawke and the Warden? Never met. I was trying to make some quick coin and Hawke may have dared me to include the Warden in her next adventure and it might have gotten slightly out of hand."

"Slightly?"

Maker, he was Thedas's top selling author and he still kept putting off writing his own will.

"Wherever Hawke is, she's alone." Varric frowned and wondered how long the Seeker would throw him in a cell this time. "However I spin her story, it won't change that. And if she ever tries to contact me I'm sure you'll know before I do."

"You've wasted my time with a fairy tale."

Why was she surprised? "I warned you that I would at the beginning." Varric smacked his dry lips. "Hawke was never a person you were ever going to understand. I probably got the closest and I still have questions. You're chasing a ghost."

"The Warden. Hawke. Never met."

"It's incredibly unlikely. Which is probably why it didn't sell that well."

He had wasted her time but she had asked him to. Varric wasn't sure how the rest of the interrogation might have gone if Cassandra hadn't been pulled away to deal with something even bigger than the tall tales of the Champion of Kirkwall.

Cassandra had believed him and she would only find out later in how many ways that was a mistake.

There was a battle, like always, but the Wardens were there and most of them were there as enemies. But some eventually resisted and Cassandra fought them and alongside them. Corypheus's influence was greater than even the Inquisitor had realized.

Hawke also fought with them and Hawke fell into the fade with the Inquisitor tumbling in after her.

Hawke was almost what Varric's stories had made her out to be. She was certainly as tall as the stories said. As Varric had said.

But she was quieter, that wicked humor of hers only showing itself in short bursts. Cassandra wanted to ask her about a lot of things, not all strictly professional and she felt a small sense of shame. She knew things about Hawke, had forced Varric to give up every detail of her large life. Except where she had fled. She had an idea that Hawke knew this, judging from the way the woman avoided her. Or it might have just been a habit Hawke developed around anyone associated with the Chantry.

They fell into the Fade. And then fell out of it, with one exception.

The battle with the Wardens drew to a close and the survivors met in the middle, clasping on to whichever of their brethren had survived.

The Inquisitor left to report Stroud's great sacrifice while Hawke, Varric, and Cassandra stood idly by. Catching their breath and wiping blood off their clothes. Cassandra was staring at Hawke, wondering where her offer to sacrifice herself had come from. Sacrificing herself for her Kirkwall companions, Cassandra could understand that based on the lengthy and exaggerated character analysis Varric had provided of the Champion. But a sacrifice for the greater good For an ever changing ideal? That Cassandra could not even dream of understanding.

More confusion was yet to come.

A Warden in old armour stumbled toward them, long limbs limping their way.

Hawke straightened and ran away from their little group. Cassandra shouted after her to wait for an identifier from the man but the Champion was sly and dodged every attempt to drag her back.

The Warden threw his helmet off and let it tumble behind him. He slowly stopped running once he realized that Hawke was not going to stop. She collided fully into the man, their armour clanging together spectacularly.

The battlefield stank of blood and excrement and the two of them cradled each other like they were in the Val Royeaux royal gardens.

"Who is that?" Cassandra spat, blushing at the scene.

Varric's sigh was long and drawn out and simply to stall for time and not to add to the drama. "That'd be, ah, the Warden."

"I can see that it's a-"

"I said "the" Warden," Varric clarified.

"I...you lying, son of a-"

"Correct."

She was trying to kiss him, half believing the Inquisitor had let her stay behind in the fade after all and this was just a very convincing desire demon tempting her. As soon as she had learned that the Wardens were involved she had expected him to make some sort of appearance. Leave it to him to make a dramatic entrance and leave it to him to wait until after she had tried to throw herself to the wolves. Had she known he was here she would have been more selfish.

Aedan kept her at bay, trying to search her for wounds or broken bones. There were mumbled curses in protest until he finished his rushed examination. "Okay." It wasn't a question; it was a relief. "You're here."

"That's my line, blue-blood. Trying to steal my spotlight? I'm already sharing it with the Herald of Andraste."

"Surely there's room for me as well?"

"No."

Hawke wrapped her arms around his neck and sank down, letting gravity do the work for her. Together they fell into the battlefield, kissing each other's dirty faces.

Finally, "Are you going back with me?"

She looked up into normally cold eyes and found them inviting and kind. She couldn't tease him this time. "Yes."

"Your work here is finished?"

"I have, as always, done more than enough."

"You are more than enough."

And Hawke turned away, his frankness with her sometimes too much to someone not used to such easy compliments. Aedan brought her gaze back to him and kissed her softly once. "We will be together for as long as we can this time."

He promised this each time they were thrust back together and he had kept his promise as best as he could.

Hawke nodded. "I love you." It was easy to say this when they parted; harder to say when they reunited. When leaving one another the words were said quickly and urgently. Whenever they met again the words were said with the knowledge that the next time could be accompanied with a final farewell.

Aedan removed her gauntlets so his fingers could interlace with hers. "Are you ready to become Lady Cousland?"

"Now? Look of the state of my dress! What would people think?"

"What does it matter what they think? They'd be too scared of you to say anything." Aedan smiled, adding, "The Inquisitor has a chapel. My friend Leliana can do the service. I can't imagine a better time. Your brother and Varric are here. Not to pressure who but I don't know when the stars are going to line up quite like this."

Hawke smirked. This wasn't the first time he had brought this up. "Ask me again after I've had a bath, blue-blood."

"How about I ask you during?"

"Even better."