Another missing scene. Sorry they are not in order now, but I'm sure you'll figure it out!
'A Mother's Tale'
Hawke rushes into her home, desperate to remove the dusty , bloodied robes and enjoy languishing in a hot bath before it is time to dress and be on her way again. Bodahn stops her on her way to Orana, about to ask the slight elf for her help in getting rid of a particularly nasty stain.
"Messere, your mother asked me to catch you the next time you came home. She wishes to talk with you in her room."
Hawke feels her stomach lurch, remembering times as a child when her mother asked for a 'chat'. What has she done wrong now? Then she feels a hint of shame, she has spent so little time with her mother. Always in a rush, out chasing down the basest that Kirkwall has to offer, investigations for the Viscount, helping out friends. Those things have all taken priority over the one person who should come first. With Bethany and Carver gone, she is all her mother has left and if she is honest with herself, she has been using the excuse of working to avoid her mother.
Mother had mentioned that she would try to find a husband for her, was that what this was about? Had she found someone who she thought was suitable son-in-law material. Maker, she hoped not. She knew the invitations had been coming in from all the nobles in Kirkwall, keen to reacquaint themselves with the mother of the woman who had returned wealthy from the Deep Roads. Hawke had no doubts in her own mind that it was the riches that attracted them and not the Amell name. Did her mother really harbour dreams of the Amells returning to the pinnacle of Kirkwall society? She fervently hoped not as she knew if her mother asked her to attend these tea parties and dances she could not refuse.
Isabella would have a field day, the teasing and sarcastic remarks would be relentless. Varric would encourage her to go and act as a spy on what all the nobility were up to. Sebastian would offer to act as a chaperone, which might not be so bad, but then her mother might harbour hopes of even higher status for her daughter. She shivered at the thought, a farm girl from Lothering becoming a princess? Never! Merrill would probably try to sneak in with her under her skirts. Anders would give her a pile of copies of his manifesto to dish out. Aveline would snort in disgust and ask her to try not to steal the silver. As for Fenris, she sighed knowing Fenris would do nothing and that would be the worst of all.
Settling for a good wash, Hawke changes her clothes and walks slowly to her mother's bedroom door. Patting out creases at the front of her dress and combing her fingers through her hair, she takes a deep breath before finally knocking gently.
"Come on in darling, I'll only be a moment." Mother's voice carries through the heavy oak. The door opens on a large room filled with the late afternoon sun giving a golden hue to everything in it. Mother sits at the desk before the window, a small pile of envelopes at the side and looks like she is finishing off another letter to be added to the pile.
Hawke looks round the room which is clean and neat, Hawke knows mother does her own cleaning in here as she refuses to let Orana in. The four poster bed is festooned with rich red brocades which match the bedcover. The dressing table still has the pots of make up on it that fascinated Hawke when she was young as well as the necklaces hooked on to the edge of the mirror, the reason behind many of the 'chats' she had had with her mother as a child. The pile of books on the bedside table give away her mother's long time habit of reading before going to sleep, Hawke smiles as she remembers asking her father why mother was allowed to read in bed while she had to sit at the table, "If you were allowed to read in bed we would never get you out of it!" he had replied tousling her hair and shooing her out the farmhouse to catch up with Bethany.
Mother finishes her letter writing and ushers her daughter to sit in one of the two armchairs in front of the fire. "Letters to Lothering, I made so many good friends there and now all of us are cast to the four winds and Lothering is no more. Come and sit, please. We have talked so little since we moved into this house, sometimes I wonder if we would have been better giving it to your uncle Gamlen and just have stayed in Lowtown."
Hawke stares at her mother aghast, "You don't really mean that do you?"
"No, not really, but it does seem like we were closer back in that dirty hovel he calls home. That's what I miss. Sandal is charming company, but he's not you. Carver is away. Your friends check up on me at times, but only Aveline will spend time talking. A good girl that one."
"I'm sorry mother, I shouldn't spend so much time away from you." Hawke looks down at her hands, feeling very much like a little girl again.
"Oh, don't worry, I know what you do is important, even if it's not all above board. It's just sometimes I would like to hear what you're up to from you instead of eavesdropping on conversation in the market. It does sound exciting, just miss out the dangerous parts, my mother's heart couldn't take it, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I think I know more about what Carver is up to than you!"
"He sends you letters?" Hawke asks feeling guilt course through her for having taken him to the Deep Roads. He has sent her none, only one was addressed to the family. He must still resent her so much for forcing him to become a Grey Warden, would he really rather have died?
"He sends them when he can. I wish I could see him again, but he feels closer to me when one of his letters arrive. He can't tell me much, but it sounds like he is doing all right. Don't feel bad, he would have blamed me if you hadn't taken him with you, my boy is still alive and I have you to thank for that."
"It's Anders you should be thanking, if he hadn't been there...I should never have taken him. He was just so insistent. I wanted to do it to help our family, it just seemed right that he was part of it."
Mother reaches out her hand to sit on top of her own, squeezing gently. "Don't blame yourself. I know how much your brother hated feeling like he was always second best. I could never get through to him that he meant just as much to me as you and Bethany. This way he has to learn to be his own man. I'm not sure there could be any other way for him. I may be his mother, but I am not blind to his faults."
Hawke returns the hand squeeze, "As I am sure you are not blind to mine."
Mother pats her hand and sits back in her chair taking her own warm comforting hand away from Hawke's again. "I'm not sure this is a fault, but it's why I asked Bodahn to catch you." Mother looks directly into her face and raises one eyebrow, "An elven slave? I hope you know what you're doing."
Hawke bows her head, trying desperately to hide the colour that comes to her face and the tears that threaten to come to her eyes. No, her mother is definitely not blind. Mother sits quiet, waiting like she always has done when her daughter has done something she can't understand, waiting patiently for an explanation. This is different though, she hasn't just pulled Bethany's pigtails, or risen to Carver's dare to walk right in front of a Templar. This is Fenris and she is not a child any more. Would her mother really understand?
"Yes, an elven slave. Not only that, he hates mages, has a terrible temper, goes into moods that would make the black city look merely gray and has a thirst for revenge that eclipses all other feelings he has. I think I have hurt him, so badly he can barely look at me. I think he would kill me if he thought I had so much as listened to a demon whisper in my ear. So no, mother, I'm not sure I have any idea what I'm doing. I just can't seem to do anything else."
Her mother gives her a small smile, "He sounds just like your father."
Hawke lifts her head immediately to look back at her mother, "He is nothing like father!"
Leandra gets out of the chair to go and stand at the window, "Your father wasn't always the man that you saw. He was very different before you were born. I loved him because I knew the man he could be, just like you love your elf." She turns to look at her daughter, a piece of her delighting at the disbelief showing on her face. "I've never told you how we met or how we all ended up in Ferelden have I?"
"No, but I did find out how Carver got his name."
"Ah, I remember him. The sweetest Templar you could ever meet. Your grandmother screamed at me that it would be better I run off with him rather than your father. Maybe it would have, but I didn't love him."
Leandra turns back to the window, basking in the last warmth of the day,
"I remember Solivitas's master, when he ran that stall in the Gallows. Solivitas was just a young man then, sent all over the place to find stock for his master to sell. That stall has always been the best place to get ingredients. Your grandparents had only just started showing symptoms, but the circle healer said their magic would never be able to do more than ease things. He said it would be easier and cost far less to buy potions and ease their symptoms. I decided I would learn how to make them myself, not the done thing for a noble lady, but I was bored with needlework and lute playing as hobbies.
I was browsing when this mage came up beside me. I just looked at this dark handsome man and I was lost there and then. It was the strangest and most wonderful thing. He turned to me and smiled and started browsing while I just stared. He made to leave and I knew in that moment if I let him go I might never see him again and I would know only deep regret for the rest of my life. I put my hand on his forearm and stopped him and asked him his name, "I am Malcolm Hawke." He said, "We need to talk you and I, don't we?" We sat on the Gallows stairs, if my mother had seen me, she would have whipped me all the way back to Hightown. I don't even remember what we spoke about, that first time, but it was probably like all the other times we sat on those stairs. Him explaining he was a mage, telling me to not turn up the next week, it would be all right, he would not be offended. But I always turned up.
He started getting angry at me, told me of the dire things that could happen to me, to him if we didn't stop. But neither of us could do it. He always turned up, just like me. Then we arranged to meet in the courtyard of this house. He would sneak out of the circle at night. I don't know how he managed it, but I suppose they weren't so strict with the mages then. I would sneak out of here and we would meet and kiss under the moonlight. He still got angry, at me, at the circle, at the templars and the Chantry, warned me he could never marry me, never give me the life I had. But still we didn't stop.
Maybe I was young and foolish. Not really understanding what he was trying to tell me, I don't think I truly believed that the Maker could be so cruel as to part me from this man. All the time this was happening, your grandparents were negotiating my marriage contract with the Comte De Launcet's family. I just ignored it. I really was so naive. I just assumed that my life would work out like it did in all those stupid romantic novels I read. Then reality came finally and hit me. I became pregnant with you.
Your father knew before I did , it must have been his magic, I never did find out how he knew. He told me and said he would work something out. Then he disappeared. There were no more nights in the courtyard, he stopped coming. I went daily to the Gallows courtyard, but there was no sign of him. I did not know if he had left me because of the baby or if he had been caught sneaking out. I was afraid to ask anybody. What if they told me he had been made tranquil? That thought was the worst in my head, to see him again, but for him not to feel anything for me. I couldn't have borne hearing that. I would rather have heard that he was dead. Every night I cried into my pillow after staring out into that courtyard and seeing no one.
Three months passed and I had no idea what I was going to do. My parents were planning my engagement party. You were only beginning to show as the smallest of bumps. Then one evening as I was sitting with your grandmother, a great banging sounded at the door. Your father and Maurevar Carver came crashing in. I fainted on the spot. It was Maurevar that was beside me when I came round. Your father and grandmother were shouting at each other. I just remember being glad that my secret was out. Your father turned to me and asked me if I was ready to run away with him. My mother knew what my answer was before the yes even escaped my lips. She screamed at me, wept as she asked if I realised what this would do to the family. Eventually she stopped, "Why would you do this Leandra? Why?"
"Because I love him." I replied.
So that was why I went on the run with your father. Dodging Templars all through the Free Marches, my belly getting bigger and bigger all the time. That time was when your father was at his worst. Mostly he was angry at the circle for not making it possible for mages to love and marry like all other people had the right to, but there were times when he railed at me. I had never worked a day in my life, never had to look after myself, never had been poor. He always apologised afterwards, but I knew I had to learn and learn quickly. It was the week before you were born that we arrived in Ferelden. An old woman in a hut helped me bring you into the world, but we couldn't stay still. By that time your father's anger had gone as had the spoilt noble rich girl that I had been. It was years before we settled in Lothering. You must remember some of that time. He became the man I had seen that first day at the Gallows and I have regretted nothing. My only wish is that he could see you now. He would be so proud."
Hawke gets up from the chair to go and stand behind her mother at the window and puts her arms around her, replacing the warmth of the sun as it slowly sinks below the skyline. They stand like this until the sky goes dark and Hawke moves to go and light a candle.
"Wait, just a few more minutes." Leandra whispers, "Just watch." The minutes pass before movement outside catches her eye.
"I thought he would tonight, he's done this for weeks now. It's not every night, but most of the nights you are here and not out tearing up the town he stands watch."
It is the faint light from his tattoos that give him away. Hawke holds her breath as she sees Fenris tuck himself in an alcove.
Her mother turns to face her, "Your elf does not hate you. If he's angry, it's not at you, just give him time. Like your father, he'll be the man you see that no one else can when he's worked it out."
"Thank you for telling me about you and father." Hawke gives a small laugh, "And there I was, standing at your door thinking I was going to be made to start going to afternoon teas and balls so you could find a good match for me!"
"Dear Maker girl, you didn't actually believe me when I said I would need to find a husband for you, did you? I was just teasing! I would never put you through all that nonsense. Besides, there are already whispers about you being an apostate. You haven't been as discreet as your father taught you to be. No self respecting nobleman would think twice about you as a catch, not unless he was really desperate for coin."
"Great! So the only way I can get a nobleman is if I buy one?"
"Darling, I hear these noble people talk. There are many of them who talk of you with interest, young men who are less than polite about their thoughts of you. Don't think they would turn you away if you wished to spend your time with them, but marry you? That is different, the families here don't want magic in their line. My parents thought to marry me to the Comte for the very reason that it would reduce the risk. I hear that his youngest son is in the circle, so magic did not miss his line after all. There are no guarantees with any match, but with you it would be a certainty. Nobles don't marry for love. They marry for coin, for breeding potential, for power. I would not match you with any of them, they have forgotten about their honour.
Your elf out there has more honour in his little finger than all the nobles in Kirkwall put together. That you would look past the slave to see the man, says much of you. That he is an elf only fuels my fear that you will live your life on the outskirts as I did with your father. It won't be easy for either of you, never quite accepted in any society. It is a life I would not wish for you. But I would rather that for you than see you tied in a loveless match, miserable for the rest of your days.
I'm glad you were able to get this house for us, but not for the social advancement. I grew up in this house, I find it a great comfort to be back here, but I would give it all up in a second to be back on that Lothering farm with your father if I could."