Bianca slammed the door shut behind her, sighing in anger as she stormed into her office and slumped into her chair. Today had really not been her day, nor did she have many stress-free days anymore. Instead of helping re-building Lowtown, as she originally promised Viscount Bran, her days were spent trying to stop the mages and templars from tearing one another apart.

What was the constant arguing about? Lyrium. It had all come down to the lyrium rations.

Since Bran had limited their supply of lyrium "to keep the citizens from reliving the horrors of the chantry explosion". But the templars needed the lyrium to stop them from getting withdrawal, and the mages needed the lyrium to work quicker on moving those heavy objects around in the re-build.

Bianca and Cullen had tried their best to keep everything under control, but sometimes it just didn't feel like it was enough.

A quiet knock at Bianca's door caused Bianca to groan inwardly, "Come in."

The familiar rustle of armoured boots echoed through the small office and the door was closed behind the armoured figure.

"How are you feeling?"

"Just fine, Cullen. I just wish there was something we could do about this lyrium problem," Bianca sighed, reclining in her chair and resting her boots on the desk. Her office wasn't opulently furnished, but it kept the basic things the First Enchanter needed for her daily business.

"I err...Have a suggestion, which you would not like," Cullen laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You know I can't have it smuggled in, Cullen," Bianca smirked as she watched Cullen's playful smile turn into an annoyed frown. She knew he hated it when she read his mind.

"If Bran keeps restricting our lyrium supplies even more, we'll have another rebellion on our hands."

"I know, but I can't risk the danger it would bring to us all, and my family."

"But can't Varric pull in a few favours with the merchant's guild? Or Blaize ask his smuggler friends-"

"Already tried; the merchant's guild don't want to touch us and the smugglers already have enough work trying to import enough food for Darktown, since Bran has only been giving food to Hightown, and making Lowtown pay for their food."

Cullen growled, resting his hands firmly on the desk, "All that bastard cares about is pleasing the nobility. We should have tried harder to get Hawke to stay."

"There's nothing we can do to change the past Cullen, we just need to help re-build Kirkwall's future."

The Knight Commander sighed and nodded his head solemnly, "I understand. Tomorrow's plans are to finally get the Alienage all repaired, since we finished the foundry yesterday. I'll see you there, take care Bianca."

Bianca smiled and nodded, watching Cullen as he left. She knew he had the burdens of one hundred men and women on his shoulders (since that was how many templars were left) as well as the haunting nightmares he had about his past, but she knew deep down, Cullen was a good man. He just needed cheering up a little.

"Cullen certainly looked like he had an extra rod shoved up his ass," a voice whispered into her ear, causing Bianca to squeak in surprise as arms were wrapped around her stomach, a nose nuzzling into her neck.

"Don't sneak up on me like that, you ass!"

"Now now, First Enchanter, that's definitely not the kind of tone you use with your husband now, is it?"

Bianca smirked playfully as she turned to meet Varric's warm brown eyes, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that. 'Husband'."

Varric smiled warmly before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, "I guess I'll have to keep saying it until you get used to it."

Bianca blushed as Varric offered her his arm as the couple made their way out of Bianca's office, bidding goodnight to the mages and templars they passed before walking out of the Gallows.

"Have you found any more information about Hawke?"

Varric remained silent as they crossed the courtyard and down the steps towards the docks. Bianca tried hard to focus on reading Varric's mind, but Varric had come up with a clever mental 'block' to prevent her from breaching certain thoughts. Just to wind her up, most likely.

"Varric?"

"We can't speak of it here, wait until we get home love? Please?"

The pained look Varric gave her almost tore her heart in two. She knew Varric was one of Hawke's closest friends, and he cared for the Champion like an older brother. A silent Varric was always trouble.

Familiar faces had filled the seats and tables at the Hanged Man, just like every night since the explosion. People still came here to drown their sorrows in ale and whiskey with what little money they had.

It was chaos after the explosion, people had flocked to the Hanged Man to shelter away from the slaughter of mage and templar. Aveline had sent Donnic and a few guardsmen to the Hanged Man to protect those who had taken shelter there, mainly elves, women and children.

The original owner of the Hanged Man was killed defending his bar with the guardsmen, so Viscount Bran had given Varric the deed to the tavern, and the Hanged Man then became a shelter for all of those survivors until their houses were rebuilt, and they soon started filing out.

The children orphaned by that night of terror were taught to read and write by Varric or Blaize, and were then kept at the Hanged Man until they decided what they wanted to do. Some joined the smuggling group Blaize was in, and others stayed to work at the Hanged Man.

The tavern had become a symbol of shelter and safety for all of Lowtown, and Varric had become an upstanding member of Kirkwall society that even the Hightown nobility would listen to.

Blaize had finished wiping down the tables as his parents burst through the door;

"What do you mean she's gone?! Where could she have gone to?"

"Does it matter? She's safe now, and no one could use her again like Kirkwall did!"

Blaize went to work and escorted the last remaining drunkard out of the tavern and locked the door behind him, making his way back to his parent's room.

"What's going on?" He leaned against the door frame, watching his mother and father throw icy glares at one another.

"Hawke has gone missing, has now for a couple of months. Your father thinks that's for the best," Bianca snapped, her hands on her hips as she watched Varric slump into his writing chair.

"But what about Winter? And Fenris?"

Varric rustled through some papers on his desk before holding out a single letter. Blaize immediately took the letter, noticing the Ferelden royal seal that was broken:

Varric,

I don't like being the bearer of bad news, but I'm afraid that you might not hear it from anyone else other than me.

Hawke has gone. She left overnight one night and we cannot find her. Fenris and Winter have gone searching for her but she left behind no clues as to where she has fled to.

I have sent Senior Enchanter Wynne along with them. She knew Hawke's father and could possibly give insight as to why Hawke has fled, but those reasons are better off being told by Hawke herself, rather than written by me.

As much as I would love to put in the resources finding Hawke, Fenris does not trust me enough yet to do so. I have sent my best spies out to keep an eye out for any information, and they will pass it onto Fenris.

I didn't manage to get a hold of Fenris before he left to ask what he would want to say in this letter to you, but I'm guessing it would be very broody or angsty. He seems the kind of fellow to do that.

As for Winter, she sends her love to you, Bianca and particularly Blaize, and she cannot wait to see you all again.

Sincerely,

Alistair

Blaize smiled to himself, at least Winter was safe…

"Dad, why do you think this is for the best?"

Varric sighed and rubbed his face in his hands, trying to remain stress-free about the whole situation (and failing).

"Hawke has been used by the people of Kirkwall, and she was already a damaged person when she came here. She was used by the smugglers, her family, the nobility and anyone else who needed her assistance."

"But that doesn't mean she should be left alone out there! Fenris must be devastated, and Winter too! I'm going there to help them!" Blaize threw the letter back on Varric's desk before going into his own room and began rummaging through his things.

"What…You think going to Denerim will fix all your problems? Haven't you even thought about the Seekers that are still trying to find us?" Bianca stormed after her son, glaring at Varric to come and get involved. The dwarf sighed and joined in, leaning against the door frame.

"Winter and Fenris need help, and I want to offer all the assistance I can!"

"How do you suppose to get there? Bran has boycotted all ships leaving and coming from Ferelden," Varric pointed out.

Blaize laughed as he threw some shirts on the bed, still searching for a travel bag, "Dad I'm a smuggler; I've got enough coin saved up now to pay my way to Ferelden and the means of getting there."

"But you could be killed! I can't let my only son go alone on some suicide mission!" Bianca's voice broke as tears began pouring down her face.

Varric frowned and went to comfort his wife, holding her close as she sobbed into his shirt, "Blaize...Your mum is just worried she's going to lose you again. We may have been able to get you out of Tevinter, but if the Seekers got you? There's no way in hell we'll be able to save you that easily."

Blaize stopped searching for his clothes as he stared at himself in the mirror. He stuck out like a sore thumb; the black lyrium tattoos were visible through the majority of his clothes, and they would glow an eerie black whenever he was extremely emotional. Like he was now. They would surround themselves in a black mist, and it would almost envelope his body. Then there was the fact that his bright red hair made him stick out like a sore thumb.

Blaize sighed in exasperation, "I guess you're right. We should just wait to see what happens, but I am going to Denerim soon. I promised Winter."