"Home sweet home," Varric said as they trudged past the guards at the city gates. "Think Bartrand will be waiting for me?"

"I hope so," Hawke replied, licking her lips. "I could use breaking someone's nose. Or perhaps I could stab him in the eye - your choice, of course."

"Choices, choices," Varric replied, his eyes sparkling.

Hawke made a motion with her hand, "A stab would feel nice. Like a warm bath."

They trudged through the streets of Lowtown, piling into the dwarf's room at the Hanged Man to unload their goods. The barkeep was none too happy at their state when they walked in.

Hawke graciously accepted the poultice he retrieved, plucking open her armour to press it to her ribs. Closing her eyes, she shuddered, "Maker, thank you."

"Don't thank him, beautiful," Varric said, collapsing into one of his chairs. He waved to the woman waiting in the wings, "Edwina, two ewers of whiskey on my tab. You'll stay, won't you?"

"You know, Isabella kept saying I should try that," Merrill tiredly said, sitting at the other end of the table. "What is it like?"

"Stale piss and sugar," Hawke replied, reaching for a cup as the woman returned and poured. "Thank you kindly."

"Perhaps I'm missing the appeal," Merrill said, taking half a glass and sniffing it oddly. "Smells bad enough to keep the Dread Wolf at bay."

Hawke smacked her lips, putting her cup back down, "It might just be."

"So what do we do now?" Anders asked, slouched as heavily as the rest.

"Eat, drink, and plot revenge?" Varric said with a grin.

"We've been gone a long time," Hawke murmured. "I need to go home to reassure my mother I am not dead."

"Yet you aren't moving," Varric chuckled. "So I'm assuming you simply cannot bear to tear yourself away."

Hawke smirked, drinking the rest of her glass and purred, "For that, I think I might just walk home. Best I get back before dark anyway, seeing as how I'll be stumbling drunk from an empty stomach. You going to come, Merrill?"

"Might be best," she casually said, somehow spry on her feet as she rose. "I could use a bed, I think."

"I'll walk with you," Anders said, pushing his chair back. "I can get back to the clinic more easily."

Varric had his beloved on the table and retrieved an oiled cloth to wipe her down. He spoke with a wistful sigh, "I suppose it is just the two of us then, my dearest."

They took to the streets, the day waning overhead. The sun dipped below the city walls, leaving sharp shadows across the stone underfoot. Their pace was lethargic, to say the least. As they rounded a corner into the slums, Hawke spread her arms and ushered Anders and Merrill into the shadows.

"What is it -" Merrill started, hushing as Hawke waved her hand.

"Templars," Anders hissed, though his face blanked as Hawke jerked away and ran into the square.

"What is the meaning of this?" she called out, and Bethany and Leandra turned.

"Thank the Maker!" her mother cried, accepting a quick hug.

"Harbouring an apostate carries stiff penalties," Knight-Captain Cullen said as he stepped forward. "But given how you have helped our order in the past, I will overlook this grievance."

"You'll take her over my dead body," Hawke hissed, drawing a blade and setting the templars on edge.

"Please, sister!" Bethany pleaded, stepping from her captors to take Hawke's hand and lower the dagger. "It is too late. I will go with them. I'll be alright."

Hawke tore her eyes from the templars, shaking her head absently as she whispered, "I am so sorry. I..."

"I'll be alright," Bethany impressed, letting herself be taken by the templars again. "Take care of mother. And come see me... I'll be alright."

Hawke stared blankly after them as Bethany was led away, her mother's sobbing scarce registering. It was only when Leandra pushed her that she snapped out of it.

"Where have you been?" Leandra cried. "You were supposed to protect her! My baby - your little sister! You were supposed to be here!"

"I know," Hawke whispered, cradling her mother close as she whispered. "I'll save her. I promise, mother."

Anders accepted a kiss on the cheek from the elderly woman, smiling tiredly as she hobbled away and he closed the door behind her. He gathered up some of the bandaging from one of the benches and dropped them in the washbasin at the back of the clinic. He leant on the table, sighing and closing his eyes. It had been a long day.

Warming the water with a wave of his hand, movement in his periphery caught his attention. Anders reached for his staff, tensing as he said, "I have nothing worth taking, show your – Hawke?"

"Ah – hello," Hawke said, looking up from the nook she sat in. One of the crates behind her shifted, and she caught it, before sitting back down.

"What are you doing here? Are you alright?" Anders relaxed and stirred the bandages in the steaming bowl.

"Of course I am," Hawke laughed falsely, pulling a knee up as she looked at him. "Can't a girl admire a handsome man while he works?"

Anders flapped his lips a moment, grinning as he looked down, "Might be a little creepy when you do it from hiding. I didn't think I'd see you for a while… thought you'd want to spend time with your family."

"I'd intended to," Hawke's voice quieted. "Not sure mother really wants me around right now. Since Bethany was taken to the Circle… she is very upset at me, to say the least."

"I'm so sorry," Anders furrowed his brow, wiping his hands. "I – I should have done something when we saw them."

"No, you shouldn't have," Hawke looked off through the quiet clinic. "The templars are trouble enough for you. I know you scarce made it away."

Hairlines of glowing blue fractured Ander's features, his voice partially wavering into a deeper octave, "They will pay for what they have done." He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath through his nose and shaking his head, "It's hard enough knowing all that's happened…but thinking they took her from you…"

"Then don't think," Hawke was on her feet, and lightly touched his arm. "As much as I enjoy a good show, I've gotten the impression you're not too fond of that glowy nimbus."

"Bethany's a good mage," Anders said, tucking his chin down as he turned away. "She's exactly why we should be free. She's proof of how normal a mage can be."

"She's not that normal," Hawke said with a smirk, hip against the table. "She snores in the most peculiar way, has an unhealthy affinity for bog berries – and that's just the beginning."

Anders chuckled, looking back at her as he tidied the rest of the clinic, "But she's a good person – more than just being a mage. She doesn't deserve to be bound and chained."

"I'm not so certain life is about what we deserve," Hawke replied, crossing her arms and swaying her foot on its heel. "Otherwise, I would most certainly have more gold, jewels, and no fewer than five strapping men eager to wait on my every need, mmm? A pedestal might be nice too."

"I see," Anders grinned, turning back to her. "And what about me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hawke airily said, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Women? Men? Certainly you would have your share of the wealth – and templars would be outlawed."

"Maybe the old me would have wanted the former," Anders almost laughed, unable to meet her eye. "I don't know how you do it. Take everything so casually – take me so casually."

"A lot of the time it's either laugh and move on or cry and get stuck in the mud," Hawke said before grinning devilishly. "And in case you hadn't caught on, you aren't my first mage,"

"What?" Anders seemed taken aback.

"My father and sister," Hawke laughed, shaking her head. "I've always been around magic. It's never been the bad guy – no matter what I've seen since the Blight. Magic doesn't inherently make people bad, people are good enough at figuring out that on their own."

"I wish there were more people like you," Anders said, lingering close to her.

"There will be," Hawke nodded. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be like me? Of course there will be pretenders and emulators."

Anders shook his head, a distance in his eyes, "Too many to count, I'm sure."

"Thanks for finding me," Hawke said after a moment, looking up to him.

"I – yes," he said, shifting backward. "I wish I could help more."

"Sometimes just not being alone is enough," Hawke said as he distanced himself. "Come with me to the Hanged Man?"

"You know I don't drink," Anders said, trying to busy himself.

"I know," she said. "Come for me?"