Sorry for the delay. It was pretty stupid, this story has been done for a while, but I got caught up writing another. So to make up for it, I'm posting the rest of it all at once.

Year 9

Somewhere in Orlais

On a Wednesday

The inevitable had been creeping up on them slowly now, and finally it was here. The packed bags in the corner of the room of the inn spelled the end. Only a temporary end, she reminded herself over and over. There was a letter on the desk that detailed exactly why the end had to happen. They knew it had been coming, and they constantly talked over and over how it wouldn't be forever, how they would meet each other again soon, very soon, but in the back of her mind, she knew better than to be so hopeful.

Hawke's eyes opened almost immediately with the sunrise. There was no fluttering of her heavy eyelids, just open, like she had never been asleep at all. In fact, it didn't feel like she had. That night, she had closed her eyes, and it was like she had blinked, only to see the pale blue daylight shining through the dusty window. She felt cheated, angry that her mind had played such a foul trick on her when all she wanted was to elongate the time she spent in that bed. Fenris's arms were still wrapped around her tightly, trying to protect her from being ripped away from him like she would be that day. His face was nuzzled into her chest, ear pressed just above her heartbeat. He slept completely silently, so silently that she sometimes had to make sure he was still breathing. It was only his warmth that eased her mind when he slept next to her. She had noticed in the past year that he preferred to fall asleep like this, listening to her steady heartbeat lull him into a deep slumber. He said it was the safest he ever felt.

Whatever notion Hawke had of prolonging her time in bed was broken when he began to rouse next to her. The sudden increase in her heart rate must have queued him to wake, and she thought bitterly at just how sensitive his ears were. All she felt was his head move, but he didn't say a word, or make another move. He knew just what waking up and moving now would mean. It would just bring them closer to the point where they separated. His pack and blade laid in one corner of the room, and her staff in the other. Two different paths even in their bedroom. He, too, just wanted to stay as long as he could. She wished they could stay forever.

But Varric said he had needed her. Not just him, but apparently the fate of Thedas. The Inquisition, as it was now called, always whispered on the lips of everyone in Orlais and Ferelden these days. So far, Varric had kept her away from its influence, knowing he had been lying to whoever asked about her whereabouts. As a matter of fact, she had been on contact with him the entire time, sending letters by raven, but only sparingly. But it was like that with all her friends. Stashed into her bag was a collection of every single letter sent from Varric, Aveline, Merrill, even Isabela. Hearing from the pirate was rare, but she still did hear from her, and every time she received a letter from her, she was almost moved to tears. It was usually only in her occasional letters did she really think back to her years in Kirkwall, drinking her evenings away and just how much fun she had had minding her own business. How she loathed that place for throwing her into the fire far too many times when all she wanted to do was live her life. But she still missed it. It was home.

Home was also with Fenris, who had followed her unquestioningly since escaping Kirkwall. In a way she felt bad, but their time had not been wasted in the slightest. Since leaving the city, Fenris had picked up quite easily on the trails of slavers operating in Southern Thedas. Their travels lead them from The Marches back to Ferelden, through Nevarra and finally ending up in Northern Orlais. They had settled down considerably in the past few months since arriving in the country. They had even stayed in the current inn for nearly two weeks.

When they would finally get out of bed, Hawke would be headed south, and Fenris north. Hawke was headed towards Skyhold, the headquarters of the Inquisition, and Fenris going forth to kill more slavers. It was a hobby. In truth, Hawke warned him of the mage alliance that had taken place months ago when the Inquisition still worked out of Haven in Orlais. He offered her a smile at that. He had become so much better about the whole "mage thing" she called it, but she still considered his feelings about it. (As well as the feelings of the mages there. She really didn't need him mouthing off, embarrassing her.)

But there was the truth of the matter weighing heavily on her about her long anticipated involvement with the Inquisition. She truly wondered what was going to be required of her once she got there. She knew she was going to help them find an old friend of hers, Stroud, the Grey Warden. According to Varric, the Wardens all over the continent had been acting strangely, and although she didn't keep in close contact with any, she knew Stroud could still be trusted. She had sent a letter his way only yesterday. Beyond getting him in contact with the rest of the Inquisition, she wasn't sure exactly what she would be doing. Would she be fighting on the front lines against Corypheus, since she had already fought him before? It was the million possibilities going through her head that she was questioning whether or not she would be getting out of it alive.

She had told Fenris that she would most likely be serving as an advisor to the young Trevelyan Inquisitor. She said they wouldn't be able to kill many slavers in that position, giving him a reason to go on without her. The real reason was more than that. She had noticed it ever since they left Kirkwall, and in hindsight, even before then, and that was just how willing he was to die for her. Ever since she received word from Varric, she couldn't help but harbour a feeling of dread towards the entire situation. Somehow she knew things were going to turn out much worse than she anticipated. She didn't want to anticipate death, not wanting to be fatalistic, but the idea still hung in the back of her mind. It had been clear just how easy it was for Fenris to throw himself in front of danger for her, how he would always intercept an attacking slaver coming straight for her, leaving himself completely vulnerable. She didn't want him doing that with some of the horrific demons coming through the rifts that dotted the landscape, because there would be no end to them until Corypheus was completely dead.

With the sunrise came the shine of crystalline green. The major tear in the Veil that hung over the continent was visible almost everywhere, and its irritating light could be seen all the time. In a way, it was beautiful to look at, but eventually, it got pretty old, especially with the threat of demons everywhere all the time. She and Fenris had been exceptionally lucky in all their treks across the countryside to have never come across one of the rifts. The very prospect seemed terrifying.

"Morning," Fenris said, his voice gravely and filled with enough sadness to break her heart on the spot. She was hoping for that to come later.

"Morning," Hawke returned meekly, barely making a sound at all. Fenris shifted beside her, craning his neck to kiss her tenderly. They didn't have to say a word to each other to know that they wanted to stay the way they were for as long as possible. But they simply couldn't.

"The sun is up." They couldn't have said they wanted to split in the mid afternoon, no, they just had to leave each other that morning. To cover more ground, or whatever.

"I know," Hawke said, bending her knee to rub her leg against his. It suddenly occurred to her that she was still buck naked from the night before, the source of warmth being the wool blanket covering them. Even more reason to not leave their bed. But she supposed there was no choice.

Eventually they did get up, pulling on clothing and armour for their journeys ahead of them. They went to the tavern for a very brief breakfast before leaving the secluded building and wandering out along the tread path before them. It was a nice morning not filled with rain and snow like it often was. The sun was shining strong by mid morning, illuminating the spring greens that were blooming around them. Hawke's heart was still heavy as they walked slowly down the trail, avoiding eye contact, but remaining hand in hand. Around Fenris's wrist was a red ribbon tied tightly. Hawke had done the same, as a reminder to each other that they would never forget.

They came to a crossroads, and it was exactly where they knew they would finally have to separate. They stopped, standing still for a moment. Then they let go of each other's hands. Hawke faced him, giving a half smile but the tears were already starting to well up in her eyes. Fenris was the same. She threw her arms around him, and he held her back just as tightly. They pulled apart only to share one last kiss.

"I love you," Fenris mumbled, his face wet with tears.

"I love you, too," Hawke sniffled, and she couldn't fight the smile spreading across her face. "Kill those slaver bastards dead."

He shared her grin. "Kill those demon bastards dead."

And so she was alone, but knowing exactly where she was going. She had shed a few more tears once Fenris had gone out of sight in the opposite direction. Soon enough, Hawke managed to harden herself by thinking on the task ahead of her, and tried to look on the bright side. She was going to see Varric again. It wasn't until she focused on that did she realize just how much she missed her trusty dwarf. She tried to picture herself again sitting down and having drinks with Varric until the wee hours of the morning, each story they told each other growing more wild than the next.

For a while she made herself forget, much to her contentment. But it was really only for a little while until another worry began to resurface into her conscious thoughts. When she set up camp off the beaten path that night, after setting up her magic barriers for protection, it began nagging her. There was one other thing, something she had never told to Fenris just in case she was wrong, but she remembered it later in the evening. She had missed her monthlies by officially two weeks now. If she bled late by one or two days, it was never much cause for alarm, but this was missing it by a long time. Two weeks wasn't enough to go off of, but her overly cautious mind had been mulling it over for a long time.

With that fact came the guilt that she had not told Fenris at all. She couldn't say for sure what was happening to her, not for at least another few weeks of a missed cycle. But she was lucky it was right around now, just as they were leaving each other on different paths. With the surmounting dread that she was possibly going to die by siding with the Inquisition, she couldn't tell him in case she did. If she died, she didn't want him to have to mourn for two of them. It was better this way.

As she laid in her tent alone for the first time in a long time, her hand rested over her stomach and her, still at this point, entirely hypothetical child. She remembered wanting this back when days were much simpler in Kirkwall, but here out in the woods with her uncertain future, it was not the ideal situation. She tried to take her mind off of death, instead thinking about her position as an advisor to the Inquisitor like she told Fenris she was going to be. She could spend a few months standing around the castle, sharing her vast insights into Corypheus. They had killed him once before, how hard would it be to do a second time? She almost laughed at the thought. Of course it was more difficult than that.

And who knew, exactly? Maybe once she saw how things were, she wouldn't have to spend much time at Skyhold, and eventually her help wouldn't be needed any longer, and then she could find Fenris once again. Maybe then they could settle down for once and think about a less dangerous future. For a while now she had made her purpose freeing the few slaves she and Fenris could, but perhaps there were better ways to achieve that that didn't involve the removal of so many internal organs. She wondered just how much political power her name might carry in Thedas, but with the Inquisition…

It gave her something to think about, and she turned over in her bedroll to lie on her side, brows knitted together with worry. Already she missed the presence of another beside her when she shivered. She was in way over her head.