A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and for all the supportive reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it.

"My little girl has grown up so strong. I love you. You've always made me so proud."

Hawke trembled, clutching the cold weight of her mother.

There was silence in the underground chamber, save for the distant drip water. The sob that followed broke the quiet, echoing off the damp walls, and Hawke bowed over the body, twining her arms around it.

It didn't feel right, and she smelled like blood and death. She smelt like the fields at Ostagar, blighted and broken. The scent of hopelessness and defeat. It wasn't her - it was her face, a mask upon a corpse. Her voice in a hollow shell. But even that was gone now.

"Haw... Marian," Aveline said, her voice cracking as she came close. "There's nothing left for us here."

Hawke trembled lower, the sound of her pain cutting away as she buried her face against the corpse's chest. It was just as mother had said. She was all alone now. The tears came as the world numbed, unable to move from the ground as she held the body. Behind her, Varric and Aveline edged closer, as though testing the air around a fire. They looked to Anders as Hawke gupped a breath, the sound shivering the air.

"Her spirit is gone to a better place," Anders quietly said, kneeling to pry Hawke away from the body. He had to forcibly move her arms, supporting her weight as he pulled her to her feet. "Come, love."

Hawke had no words, unable to look away from the foreign eyes that stared at nothing, the lips that had moved with her mother's voice. If only she had been there - if only she had seen the flowers. If only to tease her mother, if only to think of the lilies. But Anders was dragging her farther away, and she was silent, her eyes glistening.

Varric stooped to get Hawke's daggers as Aveline picked up the body.

"That's not her," Varric said under his breath as he looked at Hawke.

"Leandra was just butchered before her eyes," Aveline hissed under her breath, shouldering the weight. "No man should be themselves after that."

Watching as Anders tighten his grip on Hawke to pull her away, even as the rogue seemed to fight him, Varric quietly said, "I meant the body. That... that isn't her mother's body."

Aveline exhaled deeply, blinking her eyes closed and gritting her teeth. It was a moment before she whispered, "Help me look. I.. I cannot bear to mutilate the good woman any further."

"I know," Varric said, nodding until his eyes fell down. "I know."

The fire was burning bright. Bodahn had the courtesy to pile the logs high before he had retired for the night, some utterance of sympathy on his lips. Somehow the way it scalded her skin when she sat so close was comforting. But the house still seemed empty and cold. Because it was.

"Is there anything you need, Mistress?"

Hawke sniffed in, veiling her eyes as she quietly said, "No Orana. Thank you for asking. You may go for the evening."

"Yes, Mistress," the elf hesitated in the doorway. "I am sorry for what happened to your mama. She was the most kind Mistress I ever had - next to you, of course. I mean no offense!"

"None taken," Hawke reassured, struggling for composure. "She was very fond of you and all the fine work you do."

"Thank you," Orana replied, looking down at her hands. "I will miss her."

"So will I," Hawke emptily replied, eyes glazing over again. Soon she was alone.

Hawke took up the tumbler and finished off the whiskey, before snagging the bottle from the ground beside her and topping it off to the point of spilling. She wasn't sure how well she'd be moving soon, best she not need to try and pour again. When Gamlen had left, she hadn't hesitated to break into the bottle.

There was a well of bitterness blinking alongside the painful abyss. Anders had been in the clinic all day. She knew how much the poor of Kirkwall needed his services - how much he cared for the Fereldens who struggled still. But she didn't care much about any of them or it today.

Aveline had walked with her to the chantry when the remnants of her mother were placed on the pyre. Even Viscount Dumar had shown face, a testament to the height her family had climbed since their return to Kirkwall. Varric's usually droll mannerisms cracked along with his voice as he touched her arm.

There were no more tears though, and she knew it worried them. The liquor made it easier, softening the edges of the world away and the pain of loss was left sputtering. Softening the blame she could not escape.

Hawke leant on her knees staring into the dance of flames, her skin prickling hot from her proximity. It made the walls of books around her fade to darkness, and leave only the purity of the light. The fire that consumed what bits and pieces remained of Leandra Hawke. There were footsteps in the main hall.

"I'm sorry," Ander's voice echoed from the doorway. "I - I should have been here sooner. There was a collapse, and I had children to tend to."

"It's alright," Hawke evenly replied, still looking at the fire. She drank another finger of scotch. "I know they need you. Your dedication is part of what I love about you."

"Really?" Anders almost laughed, but the sound was empty.

Hawke nodded, her chin falling down as her eyes drifted to the glowing embers beneath the flames. She blinked rapidly, feeling her eyes water at the strain of staring at the fire. It was the fire. Of course it was.

"Have you been down here all day?" Anders softly asked.

"Not all day," Hawke replied, her words beginning to slur. "I had a lovely time at the chantry. There was a barbeque. Care for a drink?"

"You know Justice doesn't like it when I do," he replied, reaching to take the glass from her hand. "Come upstairs?"

"Are you offering to carry me? Because I don't quite imagine myself able to walk," Hawke blinked rapidly, finally looking up at him as he put a hand on the back of her chair. "It might be entertaining for you, though."

"Come on then," Anders sighed, pulling her up. When she almost went limp, he steeled his arms and pulled her close. "You know you reek worse than the Hanged Man."
"My ineffab...ineffavle charm, I asssssure you."

Anders shook his head and tried to help Hawke walk, though her feet dragged as they made it to the stairs, "You and your many charms, my dear."

"Oh yes, mmm quite sure," Hawke replied, expression almost comical as she tried for air. "Adept at mm getting 'er family killed. Bethany is shtill alive, I hope?"

"Last my contacts said, yes. Though... she doesn't know about your mother yet."

"She will," Hawke replied in a moment of lucidity. They were clumping up the stairs slowly, and she leant into Anders as she dragged her feet. "Uncle was here."

"Andraste's tits, like you needed him to make it worse," Anders muttered.

"He wussright," Hawke drawled, stumbling again before Anders let her collapse into the bed. The lithe woman rolled her head, choking on her breath before she said, "Maker knows I failed her. Like I failed Bethany. Like I failed Carver. Like I failed father."

Anders furrowed his brow, maintaining an awkward distance as Hawke pulled at her garments, "I.. I know nothing I could say will help."

"It doeshnt matter," Hawke replied, throwing her shirt. Anders tugged it off his face, sitting down beside her as she lay on the bed, one of her arms slung off the side.

"Yes, it does," Ander's voice softened, and Hawke stopped her struggle with her clothing. She sat back up, moving with a distinct lethargy.

"I should have done mooore," Hawke quietly said, her voice raw. She was staring at the fire again, and Anders shuffled closer, putting his hand over hers.

"You can't save everyone, Marian," he said, furrowing his brow.

"I should have saved her. I could have. If… if I'd only done more. If I'd only helped Ser Emeric all those years ago," Hawke shook her head, staring at the fire. "If I'd stopped…"

Anders squeezed tighter, and she looked at their hands, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't go," Hawke replied, slumping against him. "You're all that remains. I won't fail you."

"I know you won't," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Hawke leaned closer to him before her expression paled. Slipping off her bed onto her knees, she scarce made it to the chamber pot before she vomited.

"Never able to hold your liquor," he sighed, cringing as she retched. Kneeling down beside her, he gathered the hair away from her face as she shivered. "I know… I can hold your hair…"

"Always so good to me," Hawke drawled, her voice echoing in the metal pot. She spit and stayed there, hanging her head as she shuddered. "I should give you the job in an official capacity."

"Lucky me," Anders murmured, looking away as she heaved again.

"What do you want here, girl," Gamlen said from where he sat drinking. "Isn't it enough you've got that fancy house up in Hightown?"

Hawke hung her head, standing in the small bedroom. There was no hint of her there, no smells that had always accompanied her - but she could still feel her mother there. "It's never enough, you should know that, uncle."

"A likely story," he snorted.

"This was as much our home as anywhere," Hawke followed with, turning over an empty ink well. "You know we were always moving. What is one more."

"Nothing fancy here," Gamlen said, hanging his head. His voice trembled, "You look so much like her. Just go away."

Hawke frowned and turned through the small house, leaving a few coins on the table before escaping into the streets of Lowtown. She walked aimlessly amidst the refugees and beggars - she could hear Ferelden in their words. It still seemed like she'd return home sweaty and stinking, and her mother would be there to greet her with a kiss and kind word. Laughing over something his grace had done, worrying about Anders, or with gossip from the other nobles.

Hair wind torn, Hawke eventually made it home, sweeping through the door before Bodahn could express as much as a word. She settled onto a settee outside of her bedroom, staring at the door to Leandra's room. It had been almost a month. She scarce looked up when Anders followed her up the stairs to sit beside her. He took her hand and she looked down.

"Some days I miss it all so much," Hawke quietly said. "I need to send his grace out in the rain so I can soak up some wet dog."

Anders wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "We could go to the docks or something, if you were really keen on bad smells."

Hawke laughed once, sighing as she leant her head against him.

"We could go in there? Who knows what she has – what she'd want you to have…"

"No," Hawke said, her voice gravelly. "No, we can't."

"You can't leave the door locked forever."

"Can't I?" Hawke asked, lifting her head. She strained, "Please, love, I.. I cannot do that. Please just.. leave it."

"Alright," Anders replied lightly, squeezing her again as she slumped back into him.

"I know it's ridiculous," Hawke murmured. "But I feel like she'll come back. And if I go in there, if I move things and let in the light and air, she won't. She's still alive in there… I can't destroy that."

"I'm sorry I cannot make it here as often," Hawke quietly said, slouched heavily in the chair. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was dull. "The viscount's needs grow more and more by the day, I swear."

"It's not like I would be able to make it to see you more often," Bethany quietly said, pacing around the small office. "I worry about you."

"No worries for me," Hawke smiled tiredly, standing up to snag her sister and hug her. "Maker, I miss you."

"I've been in here all these years," Bethany quietly said. "I've gotten used to not seeing you and mother. I can just tell myself she isn't here this week. But you saw her every day, Marian. You are all alone in that house now."

"Simply means I can live in the buff as I please," Hawke murmured in reply.

Bethany pulled back, looking up to her, "You need people. You shouldn't be isolated."

"I'm not," Hawke replied, a slight colour on her cheeks. "Anders is living with me. And there is always Orana - and Sandal and Bodahn, I won't be rescinding mother's hospitality. Besides, I think his grace is enchanted by the young dwarf."

"Anders – you're living together now?" Bethany half-smiled as Hawke sat on the edge of Orsino's desk.

"Yes," Hawke smiled wistfully, "Just before mother…"

"She must have been so happy to see you with someone," Bethany smiled in return, but it soon faded. "I still can't believe she's gone."

Hawke pulled her sister close as Bethany started crying again, caressing her hair. Her voice cracked, "I'm sorry you're stuck with just me now. Pity that."

"Oh Marian," Bethany cried, hugging her tightly.

"Shhh," Hawke softly said, swaying them back and forth. "She's with father and Carver now. She will not ache for them any longer."

"I know," Bethany shuddered, laying her cheek on Hawke's shoulder. "Maker, I know. It doesn't make it any easier."

"I could step on your foot if it might distract from the pain," Hawke said, drawing her sister back and arching a brow. "No? A sharp kick in the shin?"

Bethany tried not to laugh, wiping her eyes as she said, "I think I miss that most of all."

"Me kicking you? How about that."

"No," she laughed, pushing Hawke. "Your humour. There is so little laughter here."

There was a knock at the door, and Orsino stepped in, "I apologize for the intrusion."

"It is your office, First Enchanter," Bethany said, sniffing in as she turned away.

"Hardly, how dare you intrude," Hawke scoffed, sitting on his desk again.

Orsino was unfazed, and he pressed the door closed, "Morning mass is nearly finished. They will expect me here."

"Thank you so much for allowing us to meet here," Bethany said, reaching for his hand. "For letting me see her."

Orsino's expression warmed, and he squeezed it, "Had I my own wish, you could see your sister any time you desired. As is, I will make do with what little power I am granted."

"And I must meet the viscount for breakfast," Hawke said, standing and clearing her throat. "I suppose I've let him stew long enough?"

Bethany stepped away from Orsino, linking her arms around Hawke's neck. She sighed and squeezed, "Be strong, sister. Tell Anders to take care of you."

"I will try," Hawke chuckled. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I will be back as soon as I can."