A/N: Yesterday's chapter was so short, I wanted to post another today. I get too eager to share them!

"I never feel comfortable in here," Hawke murmured as she walked into the chantry with Varric at her side.

"You and me both," the dwarf replied. "That whole, Maker watch over you - you know He's watching you here. I prefer when people don't know what I'm doing."

Hawke chuckled oddly, ignoring the heads that turned as she strode by the candles and the incense. Ascending the steps to where Grand Cleric Elthina was, she hesitated and offered a brief bow.

"Maker's blessing upon you, Champion."

"Ah, yes," Hawke said, offering a taciturn smile adjust the sling her arm was in.

"What may I help you with this morning, child," the woman said, tilting her head. "There is a great weight in your eyes."

Glancing down, Hawke unfolded her arms and quietly said, "Have you reconsidered your position with the mages in the Gallows?"

The Grand Cleric closed her eyes and clasped her hands at her waist with soft sigh, "Orsino and Meredith must work through the challenges they face in one another, lest they never learn from them."

Hawke bristled slightly, frowning as she said, "My sister is in there. You of all people know what they do to mages within those walls."

"I know," Elthina sighed, shaking her head. "I would not wish to be locked within the Gallows. But magic has a greater capacity for abuse more than anything else in this world."

"Really?" Hawke said, keeping her voice near a whisper. "As opposed to the unquestionable power that Meredith and her lackeys wield? What abuses has she perpetrated in her time as Knight-Commander?"

"Meredith has always been a faithful servant of the Maker and His bride," Elthina said, voice as even as ever. She frowned at Hawke, "It is no secret the sympathies you hold for mages, serah - that they are counted amongst your friends is well known by most. You have done a great deal to stir rebellion among them."

"I want them to be treated like human beings," Hawke plaintively said. "To not be killed for existing - their families to not be persecuted just for seeing them. Do you know how rarely I see my sister?"

The Grand Cleric sighed, blinking lengthily, "The city has been troubled since the qunari uprising. I had thought the desire for war satiated."

"It would find order once more if the Chantry removed itself from the seat of power - if you encouraged Meredith to relinquish her command and let the merchants and nobles of this city rule once more." Hawke said, exhaling roughly. "Kirkwall has had more than enough zealotry for a life time."

"You may strive to try my patience, but I know your words are born from love and dedication to our city and her people," Elthina replied. "But I cannot endorse either side."

"Your inaction alone supports Meredith," Hawke said, furrowing her brow. "Just as any man who stands by while another is beaten in the street is negligent in his complacence. Never mind that she answers to you."

The Grand Cleric shook her head, saying under her breath, "You are mistaken, my child. I know the Maker will guide us to a resolution, have faith. Kirkwall will emerge from these troubles into His light once more, but only through experience and growth - not from my forcing any of their hands."

Hawke was about to speak when Anders came up beside her.

"There you are," he oddly chuckled. "Last place I imagined to find you."

"Your soul is troubled, child," Elthina said to Anders, furrowing her brow. "I hope you are able to find a balm for it within these hallowed halls."

Anders tilted his head slightly, taking Hawke's arm, "Indeed."

"We will find peace, Champion," Elthina said as they turned away. "But is anything in this world worthwhile without the hard work to gain it?"

"Then I will work for it, your grace," Hawke replied, and Anders and Varric hesitated as she stopped on the stairs. "Rather than standing by and watching good people be tortured and slain, as you are so wont to do."

When they had made it beyond the doors of the chantry, Varric exhaled and shook his head. "That was pretty ballsy, Hawke. Even for you."

"I know in so many ways that she means well," Hawke said, bridging a hand over her brow. "But she does nothing - does nothing at all, and expects it to make a difference."

"Oh it makes a difference alright," Anders said, the feathers on his coat rustling in the ocean breeze. "It leaves her blind to the truth of those she is charged to guide. A mother who lets her children run rampant, unheeding of what they do and unwilling to punish them for their transgresses."

"I don't know," Hawke sighed as they walked down the stairs.

"She is a naïve fool," Anders said, lips in a grim line. "And Kirkwall and all her mages suffer for it." Rolling his shoulders, he looked down and said, "Thank you, my love. I... I must go to my clinic."

Hawke nodded and watched him go, sighing when he was out of earshot.

"Any idea what you're getting yourself into?" Varric murmured under his breath as they walked more slowly. "Hell, forget yourself - what you're getting us into?"

"Have I ever?" Hawke replied, looking up at the sky. "Yes, let's run from the Blight. Even better, find fortune in the Deep Roads. Or go after some qunari arishok. Didn't they all seem like bright ideas?"

Varric chuckled, "Too true."

"None of this is good. I know none of it is good," Hawke quietly said. "He's hiding things, he has been for months. But he won't tell me... and - and I can't say no to him." She blinked lengthily, "I'd do anything for him."

"That doesn't make you a bad person," Varric said, batting her arm. "Maybe a little blind, but Blondie's got his heart in the right place. We're all a bit crazy, but he won't do anything outlandishly insane."

"I hope not," Hawke sighed, looking down as they walked. "I'm worried about him."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm worried too."

"See how it heals and drink that," Anders quietly said, his head hanging down. The young man nodded to him, turning to go. "Return in a few days if there is no improvement.

"Yes ser, I will," he replied, sneaking past Hawke into the passages of Darktown. She waited until the healer saw her.

"Hawke – I… hadn't expected to see you here," Anders looked away, and she followed to his private hovel in the back of the clinic.

"Oh?" Hawke quietly replied. "Am I not allowed here anymore lest I have a gaping wound?"

"No, no, of course not," Anders amended, busying his hands.

"But I am Hawke now," she said, clipping her lips together.

"I," Anders stopped and turned, taking one of her hands, "It has been a long day, my love. I meant nothing by it."

"Will you tell me what you did in the chantry?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"It is nothing you wish to know," he said, still unwilling to meet her eyes. He looked out into the clinic. "But none of it will come back to you. I swear."

"Wouldn't Varric say something like, don't say that, because it obviously will?" she tilted her head, smirking.

Anders squeezed her hands, pulling them up to his lips, "I won't let the work I'm doing affect your life. I would give anything to keep you safe – I would gladly die if I knew it would keep you from harm."

"Don't say that," Hawke softly said, brow knitting further.

Hesitating, Anders looked up to her, "Just… just know that I love you. But some things are more important than my life. Than love."

"You're wrong," Hawke said, tightening her grip on his hands. "Love takes bravery – cowards dare not face it."

Anders absently shook his head, time and fatigue creeping into his features as he looked over her face, "You are the only light in my life. Without you, I fear I would have lost my mind long ago."

"Then come," Hawke's voice cracked, "I need you to tell Varric that, as he constantly says I drive everyone mad."

"I have too much to do," he tiredly said, pulling his hands out of her grasp, unable to meet her eye again.

"Then let me help you," she said with a nervous laugh. "You just need to tell me what, and I'll do it. On my knees or otherwise, mm?"

"I know," Anders said, gathering a poultice together. "You've already helped me more than I deserve."

"Stop this!" she suddenly snapped, and he grew rigid. "Stop talking like this! I don't know what you're doing, but I won't let you push me away! I love you too much for that."

There was a vacancy in his eyes as Anders turned and took her cheek, kissing her lips sweetly. He touched noses with her, and she sighed before he said, "I told you I would break your heart."

"You're not," she whispered, hands on his cheeks. "I swear you're not."

Anders exhaled out of his nose, wrapping his arms around Hawke and burying his face in her hair. A peasant in the clinic called out to him, and for a moment he didn't move.

"You'll be home tonight?" she quietly asked.

"Mm," was all he replied, drawing her from his arms and kissing her forehead. "It's best you go."

Hawke slouched into Varric's lap, lounging in the curve of his arm as she dangled her legs over the side of his chair. He laughed as she ran a hand through his chest hair.

"Always what the ladies go for," he said, linking his arms around her waist to keep her close. "There's a dwarf underneath all that manliness, you know."

"Ohhhh I know," Hawke sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were heavy with the drink, and dawn was just around the corner. Varric reached for his glass as she said, "It's just impossible to resist."

Smacking his lips, Varric gave her a squeeze, "Won't Blondie get jealous?"

"He knows he can't compare to you," Hawke replied, opening her eyes a crack. "Won't Bianca get jealous?"

Varric scoffed a grin, "She knows you don't compare."

"Ouch," Hawke laughed. "You know, amidst your numerous tall tales, you never tell me that one. All these hints and evasions..."

"I don't' know if it compares to half the shit we've been through, Hawke," Varric replied, blowing some of her hair out of his face.

"For all we've been through, I thought you could tell at least me," she quietly said, settling more comfortably into his lap. Varric turned the flagon on the table, looking over her lap. "I'm half drunk."

"More than half," he murmured.

"So how would I ever even remember what you say well enough to pass it on to anyone," Hawke raised a brow, cheek mushed on his shoulder. "I won't even tell Anders. I promise."

Varric drank the rest of his pint and sighed, "My life's not the story to be told, Champion. I'm content to be fitted into the annals of yours."

"Champion," she quietly murmured. "Even after all these years, it's still odd thinking of myself that way."

"What is this, modesty?" Varic said, smirking as Hawke moved in his arms.

"Just fatigue, I assure you," Hawke replied in a sigh, slouching. "It just seems so easy to find yourself at a point in life, and you've no idea what led you there. And suddenly your breasts are sagging, your dog cannot run anymore for his age, and you've lost the things that were once familiar."

"I'd say they look fine, beautiful," Varric idly grinned as Hawke reached for the cruet, refilling his glass. "And in my experience, no matter what I lose, I'm usually quite good at refilling my pockets."

"Indeed," she quietly said, expression lightening. Linking an arm around his neck, Hawke hauled herself up to kiss his cheek. "Nothing but gold."

Varric grunted, strumming his fingers over her knee as she drank the whiskey straight from the cruet, "You know, this is even early for you, Hawke."

"Hawke mumbled, licking her lips and setting the vessel down on the table, "Would you prefer I trundle home to wallow in a bottle?"

"No," Varric replied, inhaling slowly. "Where's your mage?"

"I don't know," Hawke blurted, looking across the room. "We argue. Some of the things he says... he hasn't been home in nights..."

"Why didn't you come sooner," Varric sat up more, and she almost fell out of his lap. "I thought he'd be back by now. He's been up coast."

"He told you?" Hawke's expression faltered. "Bloody likely he would tell you. He do something for you Bianca can't?"

Varric scoffed, wiping the smile off his face, "No, but I hear things. It's my job. He's alright. Inappropriate of him to treat you this way, but he's alive and out of the templar's hands."

"I miss Bethany," Hawke quietly said, shaking her head. She slipped out of his lap, the stumble in her step only revealed because of how well Varric knew her. "The Gallows are a fortress. Things just get worse. Everything we've done, and there are still things he won't tell me."

"You can't be surprised," Varric said, hoisting his feet up on the table as Hawke paced behind him.

"No," Hawke replied, looking down into the fire. "I knew what I was getting myself into." She gripped the mantle, closing her eyes as she trembled, biting her lip.

"Hawke?"

"He's breaking my heart, Varric," she whispered, looking at the ceiling as she tempered her breath. "He always told me he would, and he is. Why don't I listen to him?"

"I might be proof of your rapture with liars and renegades," he murmured over the lip of his glass. Her shoulders were shaking, and he put it down. "Hey, come back here, beautiful."

Hawke smeared a hand over her eyes as he tugged her back into his lap, slouching in his arms, "Sorry, short stuff. I should act my age. Drinking too much."

"You? Drink too much? Never," Varric scoffed, brushing the hair from her face as she leaned back into his arm with a sigh. "Not in my company, at least."

"Never thought that day outside the merchant's guild that you'd become one of the only stable parts of my life," Hawke murmured, and then snorted.

"Shit, if that isn't commentary on the tumultuous state of Kirkwall, I don't know what is," Varric smirked, and they chuckled together. "Pain is temporary, but purpose is eternal, my lady."

"Should that help?" Hawke slurred, eyes closing as he squeezed her.

Varric quietly said, "He'll be back in your arms in no time. Better?"

"No," she muttered, sniffing in sharply. "Give me your drink."

"Always so demanding," he sighed.