It had been a full year since they had arrived in Denerim, and Winter wished she had stayed in Kirkwall.
Her day consisted of studying under Hawke's careful eye, practicing spells and trying to conjure the most basic of potions. Alistair had converted a room in the dungeons specifically for them to practice their magic safely.
She liked Alistair; he treated her like a normal person, not some knife-ear with a Tevinter lineage. He would take her to balls and dances, which Fenris still protested to, and exposed her to the outside world as much as possible. He was like the big brother she never had; a royal big brother.
But Winter knew this would not last forever, and she was trying to make the best of it that she could; she and Fenris still argued on occasion, though that was happening far less than what it was when they first arrived. She was grateful to Hawke for calming her uncle down and explaining Winter's side more clearly; Auntie Hawke knew Winter better than anyone in Denerim, and Blaize knew her better than anyone.
Blaize had missed two of her birthdays, since they moved to Denerim before Winter turned fifteen, and now she was sixteen. He sent her presents, but always attached with an extremely vague note. She worried about how things were going in Kirkwall; how was Blaize doing? How were Bianca and Cullen doing with rebuilding the Circle? Did Blaize meet someone else? Is Varric still telling his stories? Has everything been rebuilt? She had so many unanswered questions.
Alistair, Hawke and Fenris had told her that the Circle in Kirkwall was stable for the moment, and that some of Kirkwall had been rebuilt, but no one had heard word from Kirkwall since the Chantry Explosion. Kirkwall had shut out most of the rest of Thedas, only allowing ships with goods and supplies into its port, since Viscount Bran appears to be wanting to rebuild Kirkwall before letting anyone else in.
Winter had just finished another day of studies, and had retired to her chambers for the night, wanting to take a moment to relax in the hot bath that Alistair had asked one of the servants to prepare for her, Winter having been too nervous to ask herself, not wanting to appear selfish.
She sighed in relief as she slid into the tub, allowing the warm water to completely envelope her. This was one of the luxuries Winter indulged herself in, even if she was too nervous to ask. She could feel the headache from studying too hard fade away in an instant as she ducked her head under the water.
A knock at her door broke her from her relaxation, thinking it was either Fenris or Hawke coming in to give her some extra notes to study, or knowing Fenris, to lecture her about something.
"Who is it?" Winter asked as she lathered soap in her hands before starting to wash her hair.
"It's Alistair, are you taking that bath?"
"Your Highness, if I wasn't taking a bath, I would have answered the door, no?"
She could hear his smile as he sighed, "Hawke has far too much influence on you, and please call me Alistair, I've told you that already."
Winter washed the soap out of her hair and started to wash the rest of her body, "I don't think you decided to visit me just to tell me how much I am like Hawke, has something happened?"
"N-N-No! I came here to give you a letter, appears to be from Kirkwall. I haven't read it or anything, but the penmanship is exquisite."
Winter's eyes widened as she realised who could have possibly written that letter. She washed herself as quickly as she could, wrapped a towel around herself and answered the door, snatching the letter from Alistair's hand.
As she was about to open the letter, Alistair coughed in order to grab Winter's attention. She peered up at him and could see a blush tinged his cheeks.
"I suggest that you answer the door next time dressed. You may give one of the serving boys a heart attack."
Winter raised an eyebrow, "Why would I give them a heart attack?"
Alistair sighed, "There is a reason Fenris is so protective of you, and he would probably rip me apart limb from limb if he knew I've seen you…Like this…" He gestured with his hand to the towel wrapped around her body, covering everything but only just.
It was now Winter's turn to blush, "I'm...I'm sorry I just…"
"I know, just know you have become a very beautiful women now, and men will now start queuing up for your attention."
Winter smiled, using the door to cover herself a little more as she rubbed the edge of the letter with her finger and thumb, looking to the floor.
"Why are you so kind to me?"
Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he seemed to have picked up from his time as a templar.
"Being a Warden...The taint...It doesn't allow me to have children, and being with Kat lowers the chances even more," Alistair chuckled nervously, his eyes appearing to be staring into the distance. "Even when I was training to become a templar, I knew that having children of my own would be near impossible, and well...I kind of see you as the daughter I never had. Fenris must be so proud of you."
"But he's my uncle, my dad-"
"Just read that letter, alright? You'll end up tearing it if you keep fumbling with it," Alistair chuckled.
Winter just nodded, smiling at the Warden King and bid him goodnight, closing the door as he left.
She slid the towel off and started drying her hair with it, observing the letter. It was tied with twine in a neat bow and had reeked of ale, so Winter knew it was written in the Hanged Man. Blaize never seemed to carry that stench off him when they used to hang out together.
After getting ready for bed, Winter perched at the edge of her bed and opened the letter with trembling hands, both excited and nervous for what the letter contained.
My dearest Winter,
Words cannot describe how much I miss you. My days seem to be so dull without you by my side. I miss the days when we would study with Hawke and mother, stroll along the Wounded Coast or just hang out in father's room at the Hanged Man. Life is so boring without you, my love, but I hope it won't be too long before we see each other again.
Mother and Cullen have tried their best to keep the Circle together; the templars and mages are co-operating but there is still a lot of tension. Mother is trying the best she can to determine whether either side has good intentions, but she has found it difficult to find the one good mage in a sea of blood mages.
There is word that the Ferelden Circle is deciding to become independent? I hope King Alistair knows what he is doing.
Kirkwall is slowly rebuilding. Viscount Bran has completely gone against Hawke's suggestions and has began rebuilding Hightown before anywhere else. Stupid nobles. Sebastian has been working together with father, mother and Cullen to rebuild Lowtown, but progress is slow, especially with Sebastian trying to take the Starkhaven throne.
That's besides the point of what I'm writing this letter to you; how are you doing? King Alistair treating you well? I hope Hawke, Fenris and Bruiser are well, father hasn't received word from either of them.
I'm sorry I have not sent a letter to you sooner, I've began working as a mercenary to make a bit of coin on the side, as well as working in the Hanged Man with father. All to get that trip to Denerim.
I know I do not have my father's way with words, but I love you Winter. I really do. I can't wait until we see each other again, I hope you still feel the same way. Please write back as soon as you get this.
Forever yours
B
Winter held the letter close to her chest as the tears flowed down her cheeks.
"I miss him…"
Fenris grunted as he swung his greatsword at the training dummy, using training as a way to expel the pent-up frustration he had for being kept within the castle walls.
He knew Hawke and Winter hated it too; Winter would usually argue with him about that, and Hawke just kept to herself in her little section of the royal gardens she now called her own; it was a bench underneath the cherry tree, surrounded by rose bushes and the marble fountain in the centre. The couple usually spent their afternoons there when Hawke wasn't training Winter, and Fenris wasn't aiding King Alistair in training his guards.
Sweat formed on his brow as he swung the sword again, hitting the dummy's side. Even under the summer sun, Fenris was not panting or sweating like the other guards were since he was used to high temperatures. Being raised in Tevinter will do that for you.
Something was bothering him, however. Hawke had become increasingly distant over the past year; she became withdrawn when she wasn't around anyone else apart from him, and she always had a distant, pained look on her face whenever she thought Fenris wasn't looking. But when he tried talking to Hawke about it, she would explode in a rage and she would end up sleeping in Winter's room for the night, leaving Fenris to brood overnight.
Something was seriously wrong with Hawke, and he couldn't get through to her.
Fenris roared in a mixture of anger and frustration and sliced off the dummy's head, panting heavily as he leant against his greatsword. He could feel all the eyes of the guards on him, but he didn't care. He just wanted his Hawke back.
"Erm...Sir…"
Fenris spun around to stare at the young boy before him, the human clearly shaken by what he just saw the elven warrior do.
"What is it?" Fenris snapped, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
"A...A letter for you, sir…"
Fenris snatched it out of the messengers hands, looking at the wax seal the closed the letter. The Vael family crest. Nodding to the boy, Fenris placed a couple of silvers into the boys hand and left to wash himself of the sweat. Hawke had told him in the past that letter reading should be done where one was comfortable, and Fenris' place of comfort was with Hawke.
After cleaning himself and changing out of his armour into something less spiky, Fenris went to seek Hawke out at her usual spot in the royal gardens and saw that she wasn't there. Must be with Winter already.
Fenris broke the wax seal and his frown furrowed in concentration as he read the letter;
To my dearest brother,
I sincerely apologise for my delay in writing to you, politics both in Kirkwall and Starkhaven have kept me occupied over this past year, and I have just managed to get the time to write to you. I hope that Ferelden is treating you well, and that Hawke is not getting you into too much trouble.
I have decided to take Hawke's advice to try and reclaim the throne, but that has proven to be extremely difficult. Between my Chantry duties and my...Past in Starkhaven, a few people have publicly announced their opposition to my claim on the throne. But that is slowly being dealt with.
Have you done what we discussed back in Kirkwall? Varric has already made a betting pool whether or not you will. Even I have gotten involved! A Prince must divulge in such activities from time to time, no?
Currently; Isabella, Bianca and I have bet that you will. Varric, Zevran and Carver had bet that you will not. Only time will tell if you do or not. I'm only being this secretive because I know that Hawke will somehow get her hands on this letter, so I cannot give away everything.
In short, I hope you, Hawke and Winter are well, and I await for us to meet again soon.
Sincerely,
Sebastian
"What's that letter about?" Hawke's voice made Fenris jump and drop the letter. Hawke instantly picked up the letter.
"Sebastian is being cryptic as always," he lied, feeling the blush creep up to the tips of his ears, trying to avoid eye contact.
Hawke's eyes scanned the letter, "So what is it that you're meant to be doing?"
"It doesn't matter," Fenris snatched the letter out of Hawke's hand before storming off, leaving Hawke standing at the cherry tree, completely confused about what the hell just happened.