A/N: well second chapters up, tell me wa you think? :) and try see if u can notice a few things *cough sexy magister hips cough* but anyway, tallihoo and read ahead :D x

Varania

Varania listened to her children's soft snoring. They had been on the road a week, stopping only at other estates of Magisters Denarius knew well enough. Fay and Fergus lay snuggled up to her sides as she tried to sleep in the servants quarters. Denarius didn't want her too badly damaged for when she met her brother, he acted as if he treated her kindly, whispering sweet temptations into her ears. "You could be a magister you know. Help me find my pet and I'll make sure your held in high regard." Though Varania didn't believe it for a second. Once denarius had heard news of Hadrianas death, he set a plan instantly. He waited for Fenris to bow into his insecurities and practically sell out his position. Stupid elf, he had not only destroyed his life but now hers as well. And her sweet children's. They were dragged into this from the moment he left. She shouldn't have been stupid; she should have hidden them better.

But she couldn't change any of that now. No use wallowing over spilt milk that can't be mopped. She cursed in her mind. Fay whimpered beside her, gripping her mother's dress in her sleep. Instantly Varania rubbed soothing circles on her back as Fergus entwined his fingers with his sisters. This was routine now, Fay's nightmares of "Big bad men grabbing her and Fergus

" and Fergus instantly reaching out his hand as he slumbered to protect his little sister. There was nothing Varania could do to help her little ones, to help the bad dreams go away. She felt so helpless, so un-motherly. She hated it, and Denarius was using it to his advantage.

A three day's ride across land and a week and half's journey on sea and they would be there, they would arrive in Kirkwall, Varania just hoped her brother believed the letter her master had written in her hand. Otherwise she would get the punishment for his disappearance.

Hawke

Hawke stood before an angry Fenris, his marking slightly glowing as he pushed against the table. The candle wobbling slightly. He looked flustered, his dark hand running through his hair. His eyebrows drawing together to create the perfect line of black brows. His eyes were intent on his thoughts, flickering crazily as he argued with himself. Hawke wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even know she had walked in.

"Venhedis! Fasta vass!" he growled. Hawke frowned; she knew what was up, hell everyone in her crazy adopted family knew. But he didn't know they knew, and so they tip toed around him, silently backing away when his anger grew more than normal. Varric had only mentioned once in the last few weeks that he'd seen more broody babies about, and that if he carried on there'd be a broody baby pandemic, earning not only a molten glare from the elf but also a threat to his precious Bianca. Varric quickly shut up when Fenris bolted up the stairs, his long lithe legs no match for the dwarfs stubby ones. The yell that followed had silenced the whole of the hanged man, and only a few gasps as the rogue came skipping down the stairs with Bianca preciously wrapped in one arm whilst the other towed Fenris down the stairs by his ear.

"Maybe I can help Fenris…"Hawke started timidly. Usually she would have joked, pointed out how she would never have noticed he was in a temper, but the way he was glaring at the table she didn't think he would take it too well. The tired sigh and drop of his shoulders, which he always wore so high, which followed though, was not something she was expecting.

"It's my sister. I didn't tell you, but I followed up on Hadrianas information. Everything she said was true." He was pacing, his hands slowly moving like they always did when he spoke about something close to him. "I had to keep it quiet but I eventually contacted Varania and sent her coin enough to come meet me. I know she's here." He stopped, looking at her with those intense green eyes.

Hawke's mind drifted back to a conversation he and Merrill had once had about puppy eyes…

"So, she was in Qarinus after all?" She didn't miss the nervous hint in her voice, even after three years of awkward glances; he still made her eager to make him happy. His slight frown didn't help matters either.

"My sister left Magister Ahriman's service, and I found her in Minrathous. That made things more difficult." He sighed running a hand through his hair again. Hawke nodded and moved slightly closer to him, leaning on one of the bug infested chairs. If he didn't move out of this place soon, she would have to kidnap him and threaten to move him in with Anders. She saw him hesitate and smiled at him, trying to encourage him to go on. The slight twitch of his mouth showed the gesture had been seen and Hawke felt her heart flutter slightly at the thought of making him smile. Ugh, she groaned in her head, I'm like a bloody teenager all over again.

"B-but according to the men I paid, it's just as Hadriana said; she's not a slave, she's a tailor in fact. Getting a letter to her was difficult, and she didn't believe me at first…but she's finally come." Hawke didn't like this, not one bit.

"You worry Denarius knows?" she asked, voicing her own worries as well as his. Fenris growled, his gauntlet fists rising slightly.

"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I become he does!" Fenris groaned, sliding his fingers on the table in front of him. Hawke couldn't stand seeing Fenris, the usually strong stoic elf she'd come to love so vulnerable. He was a step away from her now, and she could stop herself from closing the distance slightly, standing close enough to try and comfort, but not touching him. Never touching him. His eyes peered at her through the curtain of snow white hair that hung over his face, slowly taking in her every move. He let out a shaky breath and straightened, turning to face her.

She had missed this, though more awkward than before it still helped her sleep at night that they could be friends. Even if it was only a fraction of the feelings she held for him. She would do anything that made this easier for him. stupid elf making me act all girly.

His green eyes were boring into hers, almost begging her. "Come with me, Hawke. If this is a trap, I need someone who can back me up."

"Where is she?" Hawke smiled timidly as Fenris moved closer. Slowly he raised his armoured hand, lightly tracing her face through the air. His smile was so unguarded as he looked down on her that Hawke completely forgot where she was. All she could think about was those full, delicious lips so close to hers. His breath was intoxicating as it blew across her face. He was still smiling, a small feat in her head. Her eyes, reluctantly, fluttered up to his. Her long eyelashes battering more than necessary, a trick Isabella had taught her.

Quicker than lightening he pulled away. Coughing slightly into his fist. Hawke tried to push away the rejection she felt, but with little success.

"If we go to the hanged man during the day she'll be there for the next week at least." He said his hands flailing about the place. He was flustered and Hawke hadn't seen anything cuter in her life. He gasped for breath, trying to calm his frantic breathing down slightly. He turned to face her, his eyes smouldering with untold depth. "It would mean a lot to me, that's all I ask."

Hawke couldn't even find her head to nod. She knew it was somewhere up there but nothing seemed to work with it. All her body parts seemed to abandon her at that precise time and the best she could do was let out a strangled hum of agreeance. Fenris chuckled slightly, trying to cover it with a cough but failed miserably.

"so...uh, do you want to go now?" He nodded, his face growing solemn. "I'll go get Varric and Issy then." And without looking back she was walking down his crumbling staircase and into the kirkwallion summer breeze.

Varania

They had taken her children, hidden them from her until she did this. Master Ahriman had marched Fay and Fergus and a few soldiers up to the nearest coast line, a place notorious for their slaver caverns. Denarius was waiting upstairs in his room, waiting and watching in case Leto came crawling in here hunting her out. She hated herself more than she ever had tight now. More than when she let her brother go, more than even agreeing to this in the first place. She couldn't actually believe she was following through with it. That she was actually sitting here, a mug of still water in her palm. She had been waiting, doing the same routine for the past two days. Waiting for him to come and secretly wishing he wouldn't

But the Magisters weren't stupid. If one didn't contact the other by the end of the night, they were to kill whoever was in their care. Denarius had Varania, whilst Ahriman would kill her babies. So she sat and she waited, and she prayed that he would turn up. Even if it was to just see him once, with some recognition in his eyes. Not the dull ignorance that they coldly held so many times before.

The room grew deathly silent except for the swing and slam of the tavern door, but Varania didn't look up. She already knew who would be standing there.

"It really is you…" her grip on her mug grew tenfold, her slender knuckles turning pale.

"Varania? I remember you; we played in our master's courtyard while our mother worked, you…you called me…" his voice was deeper than she remember, thicker gruffer. But then again, that was what slavery did to you. It took the softness that you once had and rips it from your soul.

"Leto. That's your name…" she said louder than deemed normal. She still couldn't look at him, couldn't bare the look of betrayal that would be in his eyes as their old master would surely walk down those steps with a cocky sway to his hips.

"what's wrong? Why are you..?" but he was stopped by a soft woman's voice. She hadn't noticed any others with him, but when she looked up there they were. All four of them. And Leto was nothing like he was before. His hair was a brilliant snow white, almost giving off an angelic glow. His skin was slightly more worn, but due to being elven was still smooth and clear, albeit slightly darker. His brows were still the same, black and scraggily. But his eye's, oh maker those eyes. They were void of the cheer they had once danced with. Gone were the mischief that she had once relished in making. They were deep, green like before yes but so full of despair and panic. But then they flickered to the dark haired woman next thim and warmth returned, although only slightly. The sides of his mouth quirking into an unchecked, reassuring smile.

"I'll give you three guesses" the woman said… and then his once big soulful eyes glared at Varania, slits with the point and precision of the sharpest dagger. She had never truly hated herself more than what she did now. And he would forever hate her too.