Year 8

The Free Marches

On a Monday

"So this is it, then? You're sure about this?"

Merrill's usually bright green eyes were clouded over with a dull sadness. Her lower lip protruded just slightly as she found it difficult to look up. She took a long sigh, her slight frame quivering while holding back tears. "Yes. I'm sure, Hawke."

It was mid-morning and Hawke was on edge at just how close she was to the city. The group stood alone in the forests under the peak of Sundermount, Kirkwall being just visible in the distance. The sun was equally shining and obscured by the pattern of clouds moving overhead. Merrill was rubbing her hands together absently, remembering just how close her clan was to these parts, but that was long ago. Now they were dead, and she still felt a lump rise in her throat when she thought too long about them. As much as she had told herself she was through living for them, their memory still nagged the back of her mind with a guilt she would never completely overcome. She looked up, seeing Hawke's concerned gaze upon her, a rare sight. She was always so cocky, unwilling to let the serious things get to her, making jokes at the worst of times.

"Oh. I'm fine, Hawke," she began, hoping it would wipe that sad look right off Hawke's face. It really did make her feel uncomfortable. "It's just… I'm remembering when we first met around here, you know?"

Merrill was relieved when she saw Hawke's lips twitch into a smile. "That was a long while ago, it was."

She could see Fenris shifting behind her, irritated by his first memories of her as well. Within a few minutes of their meeting, she had revealed her use of blood magic to them, and he was remembering that of all things. Despite the close year they had spent together travelling outside of Kirkwall, depending on each other for survival, personal feelings aside, he was still made twitchy over that first meeting. Neither did he ever like being left alone with her, either, despite Merrill swearing off her use of blood magic since the incident with the Keeper.

Suddenly Hawke's smile became weak and she stepped forward with her arms open. Merrill threw her arms around her friend, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. "Promise me you'll write," she mumbled.

"Of course, Merrill." Hawke pulled away from her, keeping her hands on her shoulders.

"Maybe we'll meet again some day," she said.

"I'm sure we will." Hawke let go of her shoulders, leaving Merrill alone. "Are you sure you'll be okay on your way?"

"Of course I will." She should have felt offended, but she was used to Hawke being worried by now.

"Say hello to Aveline and Varric for me."

"Definitely. Goodbye, Hawke. Goodbye, Fenris." She gave one last smile before she slowly turned around, setting off on the trail towards Kirkwall, just before hearing the sentiment returned to her. It was a long day ahead of her.

Hawke turned around to see Fenris standing silently, albeit his posture wasn't so tense, and he seemed slumped over. He gave her a glance that told her once and for all he really was sad to see Merrill leave them. She faced his way and walked over holding out her hand to take his. Even with those steel claws, she always held it so delicately. "So, what now?" she asked him with a smile.

He took a while to think, but he returned a cocky smile to her. "I say we're finally alone."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, admit it. It really sucks we are now the only ones left."

As Hawke began to walk forward, Fenris followed, putting an arm around her waist. "Has it really been a year?"

It was a daunting thought, but with the battle against Orsino and Meredith remaining so fresh in her mind, it was easy to forget just how long ago it really was. "Not quite, I don't think. That happened in May, it's March."

"Huh." Fenris frowned next to her. "It seems so far away. Like a whole other world."

Everything seemed like a whole other world to her these days. As they walked through the forest again, due northwest, Hawke began to think about her times in Kirkwall. For the past almost year she had refrained from thinking about it, afraid she would actually start to miss Kirkwall enough to try going back. But everything about the city that she had remembered fondly was gone. Truly her home had become her friends there, but now things were different. Aveline was still there, and she had remained there the entire time. Varric, Isabela and now Merrill had all stayed with them for some time, but they eventually broke apart, heading off in their own directions. Isabela had finally had enough of solid land and left for the sea only a few months later. From what she disclosed in her letters, she had joined the Raiders, doing what she had always done. Varric was similar, staying with their group only to lay low before returning to the city to manage the family businesses. He was the first to leave them. Merrill had tagged along the longest, but she was losing sight of the point to their travels, and decided her efforts were best left with her own people back in Kirkwall.

Fenris had stayed with her, and was always going to stay with her no matter where they went. And in the past ten months, they did have their fun. Their travels had lead them out of the Free Marches as they explored Antiva and all it had to offer. The coasts were beautiful, and nobody knew who she or Fenris were, which was always a relief. Still, they couldn't stay in one place for too long, not while her reputation was still besmirched. There was no telling just how quickly people would catch on to her, or what their opinions might be.

That night, they set up camp the way they always did, only now one person short. They put up their tent and built a fire, despite the balmy March night. In just their linen shirts and trousers, they sat next to each other making small talk while idly interlacing fingers. She was used to looking up and seeing Merrill sitting across from them, looking down at something she was making or mending, but now that space was empty. After a lull in their conversation happened, Hawke's mind began to wander. As much as she didn't allow herself to reminisce about her time in Kirkwall, the absence of Merrill was making her think only of that.

"Remember that time Isabela pinned that man's hand to the bar with her dagger?" she blurted, that specific memory surfacing in her mind for no particular reason.

Fenris's thumb had been stroking her index finger for the past couple minutes, but now it stopped. "Why bring it up?"

Hawke laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I don't know. But do you remember?"

She could feel him smiling. "I do. I am surprised you do, or how you remember anything that ever happened in the bar."

"Oh, shut up. I remember more of the Hanged Man than you think." When the name of the bar came out of her mouth, she felt a something strange, and she figured Fenris also felt it. It was easy to think of those memories taking place at some bar, but not the one bar, and the place everyone truly knew her name. They always shouted it when she walked in, celebrating her arrival. All those tidbits of information came rushing back to her, and where she expected them to make her sad, she couldn't help but grin.

"Do you remember the time Isabela bet ten sovereigns, so sure he had a winning hand, and then Varric took it all anyway?"

"And she was cheating!"

"Or that time Aveline walked in when Varric was about to start that fight between those two guards."

Hawke was beginning to laugh. "And made us bet one which one was going to win!" She leaned into Fenris's shoulder, feeling his arm around her. A shiver went down her back despite the heat. Maybe it was a good thing to remember once and a while.

"I love you," Fenris said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper when he said it, as it almost always did.

"I love you, too." She lifted her head to kiss his cheek, and a second time when he faced her, their lips brushing together tentatively. For a while longer, they kept recalling tales from The Hanged Man, filling the evening with laughter, something they hadn't been able to do for a long while. After a time, they let the fire die down, walked just past their campsite, laying together under the light of nearly full moon. One benefit to finally being alone was that their intimacy wasn't just reserved for the privacy of their own tent in the middle of the night, always careful to be quiet lest someone else was still awake.

Into the night, the rain began to fall, and they retreated to their tent, both of them being unable to sleep. Hawke's head lay on Fenris's chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arm around her bare shoulders. All joyous thoughts had left her mind as she tried to sleep, instead being overridden with doubts. Since they were alone, it seemed like they needed a new path ahead of them instead of the seemingly random wandering they had spent the past months doing. Now that the travelling party was on the same wavelength of "whatever you wanna do, I'll do it", she wondered if maybe they could have a purpose again. It wasn't the first time she had thought of it, but it wouldn't be the last.

"What do you want to do?" she asked, her mind tired and words coming out a bit mushed.

He just responded with a sound, tired but still not finding sleep.

"I mean, what should we do next?"

Fenris was quiet after that, but she could tell he was thinking. "Slavers," he mumbled. It took a second, but it began to register in her mind exactly what he meant. Truly it had been a while since Fenris was able to kill something he hated as brutally as he liked to.

"And where should we go for that?"

"Tevinter." He hadn't hesitated in the slightest, he was so sure of it. Hawke felt a surge of fear, but mixed with it was also excitement.

"You want to go all the way to Tevinter to kill slavers?"

He exhaled deeply. "Just outside. Along the borders, there's lots of them there."

Hawke smiled, and just like that, it seemed their new purpose was set out before them. If Fenris knew her, he knew he would be seeing her a lot more angry than he was used to once they began to live up to that purpose. She had never seen slavers in Ferelden when she was growing up, and never even thought that such a thing could really exist. When she ran into it in Kirkwall, the true human horrors that existed in the world, she couldn't help but feel an uncontrollable hatred. It seemed their new purpose was going to be fitting. The Champion of Kirkwall was no more, just a couple of renegade slaver killers. She had never wanted to feel like such a hero.

"It'll be dangerous."

"I know." His arm around her tightened its hold ever so slightly. "But what isn't dangerous?"

Her mind was finally at ease, and that night for the first time in a while, they both slept like stones. She had exactly what she needed, and the plans for the future were set out before them, however vague, but they were there. In the morning, they packed up before hunting for some breakfast, the both of them eager to get going on their current quest. They had laughed and joked once they were on their way north about The Hanged Man once again, all lingering bits of sadness leaving her.

A part of her was just happy Fenris had made a decision for them for once. After years of following at her whim, and dealing with the often bloody aftermath of her choices, Hawke was being lead by Fenris, on something noble and not dubious for once. She found it oddly liberating to have cut ties with everyone, as awful as that sounded. In a way, spending the rest of her life with only Fenris seemed romantic and heroic, two ideals she wouldn't have cared for a few years ago. She did hope to be able to see their friends again at some point, but for now, her life being clear before her seemed just right. It was simple, albeit dangerous, but as long as the world didn't explode, it was going to be her life.