A cozy mattress beneath her, soft blankets, a lean arm thrown across her waist and a warm body pressed against her back - all these things made Hawke stiffen when she began to realize the morning light was scratching against her eyelids. Hot breath tickled the hair on the back of her neck that fluttered from a pair of nostrils. The body was sinewy, she realized, and her own muscles relaxed. When Fenris awoke, he planted a tender kiss against the spot his breath had been brushing.

She rolled over so she was facing him. He blinked at the disturbance, but otherwise said nothing. He brushed a finger lightly across her bangs and behind her ear. His hand relaxed against her face, forming a loose cup of sorts as he stared into her eyes.

"Good morning," she greeted. He grunted in response. She considered returning the gesture he made with his hand, but opted instead to sit up and stretch. As she did, a wave of nausea rushed her and she paused, taking slow deep breaths. He sat up too, examined her face for a moment, leaned over to grab the thankfully clean chamber pot, and placed it in her lap. She cradled it. Eventually, the waves passed. She held onto it a little longer, just to be sure. When she was confident she wasn't going to vomit water or something, she handed it back to him, who returned it to his spot.

She left the bed and looked through the wardrobe to find something more suitable for stomping around the sewers, even if it was only going to be for a few moments. He got out of bed as well and began to change into his armor behind her back. Soon they were both dressed and faced each other.

"Will you be alright going alone?" he asked, eyeing her with some concern.

"It's just down the cellar," she pointed out.

"You've been through an ordeal," he countered in a gentle tone. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He stayed there for a moment, relishing in it, before he confessed, "There was a time where I needed you by my side. But I was… too proud and… too scared. To say anything. I will not have you endure what I did."

She let out a short snort.

His eyes flew open to see a small smirk gracing her face. He sighed, which melted into a smile. He leaned into her lips, but the only response she made was for her smirk to slip away into something more guarded and uncertain. He pulled away.

"I'll be fine, Fenris," she assured, "I may not have magic, but I could defend myself in a pinch."

"Of that, I have no doubt," he said, "I'll be in my mansion. Come find me when you're done. Or have Bodhan send for me."

They each made their way down the stairs, parting ways when they needed to. She let her touch linger along the wall despite her rush. Past the casks, she opened the trapdoor and carefully climbed down the ladder. The clinic door was wide open and the light was on. She lingered outside for a moment.

"Ah, Hawke!" Anders piped up from a patient he was bandaging, "Good to see you. I'll be with you in a minute."

She decided to enter but wait near the doorframe. When he was finished with his other patient, he called to her and guided her to another nearby cot. He suggested a physical again, and this time she gave a curt indication of consent. He adjusted some boards to give her some privacy, found a chance to wash his hands, and went to work. Pretty much everything he did was routine for her, except when he decided to test how well her nose worked.

"You haven't regained much color to your skin," he noted when he was done, "And your muscle mass is not what it used to be. But your range of motion is still good, and I can't find anything else wrong with you. If that's everything, I need to write some notes in my journal about this."

"There is something else," she said. She went over her symptoms with him, and he concluded, "It certainly sounds like you're pregnant." He crossed his arms and continued, "You and Fenris must have really hit it off when you got back together."

Hawke made a slightly confused face, but otherwise said nothing. Anders added, "Of course, the question now is what do you want to do about it? If you like, I could give you a list of herbs to collect from Solivitus. He specializes in potions, but the things I have in mind are common enough where he should have them in stock. I'd give you some myself, but I'm fresh out. Or do you want to try to make an honest man out of him?"

"No, I'd much rather take care of this quickly," she stated, knowing full well the father wasn't Fenris.

"Very well. Just give me a moment," he said. He wandered over to his writing desk, pulled out a paper and got to work. In a few minutes, he returned and handed it to her. At the top were the listed ingredients, while the rest of the page had what looked like instructions on how and when to consume them. She noticed some scribbles through the paper and turned it around. It had a quote from the Chant of Light. It went on about inalienable rights and had several lines crossed out.

He coughed, and said awkwardly, "That was a removed portion of my manifesto."

She stared at him for a moment, but then said curtly, "Thanks."

"Anytime," he said.

She left the clinic and climbed into the mansion. As soon as she could, she met with Bodhan about her shopping list. He provided her with a basket, a few slices of bread, and a short list of directions to the Gallows to help her find her way, nibbling the entire way down. After quickly wiping her boots, she took her things and made her way down, occasionally checking Bodhan's notes.

Once she made her way to Solivitus, he greeted her excitedly and started rambling about a bunch of plants that he claimed she procured for him, and she politely requested that he save this rant for 'next time.' He was clearly disappointed until she showed him her shopping list, after which he was very accommodating. After the exchange was done, he bid her farewell.

She offered him a small wave as she walked away. She fully turned around and halted. Her basket fell out of her hand. She couldn't breathe. Across the Gallows courtyard stood a young man with eyes like hers and hair like hers, casually speaking to other armored Templars. He caught a glimpse of her, then did a double take, looking confused.

She remembered him, pale and discolored, struggling to get up from a broken floor. She remembered his ragged breathing as she was told he wouldn't make it. She remembered pulling out a knife, remembered cradling him in her arms, remembered whispering apologies over and over again.

He turned from his spot with the other Templars and took a step towards her. She bolted up the Gallows, up into the Lowtown market, around a corner, and pressed herself against a wall, panting heavy. Her head spun only with the thought that he was alive when he shouldn't be, that this was wrong, that this place was wrong, that everything was wrong. Then the thought hit her. There was one other person who knew things weren't right.

A cold determination settled over her as she straightened herself. She gave herself another moment to catch her breath, then wandered around Lowtown until she found the giant tree in the Alienage. Her feet knew before she did exactly which door to go to. As soon as she reached it, she started rapping on the door. No response came. She knocked again. Still no response. She groaned.

"If you're looking for your companion, Champion," the sudden voice caused her to jump and turn around. It belonged to one of the local elves, who continued, "she left early this morning."

"Where is she?" Hawke pressed.

"Dunno," the elf said with a shrug, "She doesn't engage with the community, so I didn't ask."

Hawke gave a quick thank you and wandered back up the steps. She determined to check again, late at night. She'd get her answers, one way or another.