a/n: What's this? "Epilogue one"? That's right! I can't stand to leave this story - or Hawke - so I will have two epilogues. Why not just make them into chapters, you might ask? Because, dear reader, the story is fully complete without these; they simply add in a little bit extra after the "and they lived happily ever after (except maybe not)" ending. I just wanted to fill in a few blanks about what headcanon says happened.

l e t. t e r s

The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,
and she will know no fear of death.
Transfigurations 10:1

A small parcel of papers arrives in Skyhold by courier one morning a few months after the events at Adamant. Within are two letters, and a handful of maps and scrawled intelligence reports. The first letter is written in a tidy, well-practiced hand with little cheerful doodles and mindless little embellishments in the margins and spaces between paragraphs.

Dear Varric,
The Anderfels are lovely this time of year. I haven't ever truly seen the mountains proper, so it's a treat. Weather's a little cooler than I'd like, but I suppose everything can't be perfect, right?
How's the Inquisition doing? I don't mean the thing called Inquisition, I mean the people in it. How is everyone? I miss them. It's quiet out here, by myself. I travelled with a band of mercenaries under the banner of the Red Iron for a while… but after they unceremoniously raided a small town, they ended up dead through means that had absolutely nothing to do with me at all, so there is nothing of note in that and I don't even know why I brought it up.
I crossed paths with another Warden on the outskirts of Orlais. He said he was also headed towards Wiesshaupt, but had other business to attend to first. He also seemed worried about how quiet it's been. But - and here's what I found interesting - he knew Carver. Barely recognized me (I suppose he was Orlesian, so probably doesn't care much for us Marchers), but when he heard my name was Hawke, he brightened- "Do you know of Ser Carver?" Seems the ass has made a name for himself. Stroud told me he had heard that Carver was in the Anderfels, likely heading to Wiesshaupt. So maybe he's there. Should be an interesting reunion, yeah? Shame you won't be here. I know you'd be much quicker with the wit.
Take care of yourself, love. I promise I'll head back to Kirkwall as soon as I figure out what the Wardens are doing. Give Alice my best. Remind Sera to give Cassandra another present. Tell Dorian to practice his chess.

Love,
Lucy

PS, Hi Leliana. Figured you might find the attached reports interesting. Do pass them on to Varric when you're done with them, though. Cheers -H

Added at the bottom of the page is a second postscript. The discoloring of the ink and the messier quality of the handwriting betrays its addition as a frustrated afterthought, hours after the original letter had been finished.

PPS, Ok, fine Varric, you win. Make sure Cullen gets the other letter. -H

-x-

The second letter is not quite as neatly written, but does not seem to be written without thought. It appears to begin three times, but not accidentally. The doodles and embellishments are missing, but great care was clearly taken in writing it, as if endless thought went into each word.

Cullen,
Hello. How are you doing? I hope you are doing well. I am doing all right. The mountains are cold this time of year, but very pretty.

Commander,
How are things? I keep hearing rumors that the Inquisition is doing amazing things. I'm sure it's thanks in no small part to the well-organized and -trained soldiers.

Dear Cullen,
I have no idea how I'm supposed to start this letter to you. I didn't even think I was going to write one, but I kept hearing Varric's voice in my head. "Curly wants to hear from you, too, you know." So, here we go.
Truly, I hope you're doing well. The fact that the Inquisition's forces are continuing to do good in Thedas is evidence that you're still alive and kicking. I hope the withdrawals are getting better. Try some honey tea at night before bed; it's supposed to help with nightmares.
I miss you. I keep wondering if I should have taken you up on the offer to send scouts instead of me. Hah! You and I both know they'd be worthless if they ran into trouble at Wiesshaupt. Because with the Wardens, there really is no telling what kind of trouble they'd find. What kind of trouble I'll find. Maybe it's griffons! A girl can hope anyway.
I had another dream with Bethany in it. She asked me why I had chosen to be with a Templar. And I told her it was because I loved him. She laughed. She thought it was funny. But she said that she was proud of me for doing something she could never do. And I don't think she was talking about you being a Templar. I think she was talking about opening up to someone after being hurt like I had been. I guess you just knew what to say to get me talking. Because you did get me talking. A lot. It made me think a lot too. And I realized something.
Maybe saying goodbye isn't as bad as I thought it was. After all, you and I said goodbye, but you aren't really gone. I can still talk to you, and - if your lovely spymaster's or Varric's agents manage to find me to deliver something - you can still talk to me. It wasn't really goodbye, it was more of a "goodbye for now". And I think I'm okay with that. Maybe, after all of this is done, maybe I'll see you again.
But please don't wait for me. You are so wonderful, Cullen, I don't know how long it'll be before someone else notices. And I know you can find someone who whines less than I do. So if that should happen, all I ask is that you remember me fondly. Be happy. That's all that matters.
I couldn't say it before, at Adamant, but I would never forgive myself if it went entirely left unsaid. So, as much as words written on the page can express heartfelt thought,

I love you.

Stay safe. Write if you can. Be happy.
Love always,
Hawke

(I'm so used to being called that - by you, and everyone else. But I guess you can call me by my first name. I think we've gotten to that point. So, let's try again.)
Love always,
Lucy

- four months later -

Two letters pass from hand to hand across Thedas, mostly in dark alleys and crowded taverns, unnoticed. A young orphan girl is slipped three shiny silvers and the letters; she's instructed to first buy a fresh flower from the market, and then to give everything to the woman who tells stories at the bar every evening with short blonde hair, green eyes, and a familiar streak of red across her nose.
Hawke gives the girl a sovereign for her efforts. Despite her excitement, she waits until she is alone in her room at the inn, well after sunset, to read them.

Bubbles,
Glad to hear you're doing well. I hope Wiesshaupt went well. I'm assuming you're on you way back to Kirkwall by now. You'd better be. I'll be back soon, even if just for a visit. Maker knows we can't leave that place alone for too long. Aveline might nag everyone to death.
I'm sure you'll hear the news soon, if you haven't already: the Inquisition defeated Corypheus. That sounds great, but there's still a lot of mess to clean up. Alice seems to have a handle on things, and I'll be sticking around for a while. But I should be back to Kirkwall within a few weeks or a month by the time you get this letter.
You made friends here. Alice asked that I pass on her appreciation once again, and Sera politely requested that I inform you that she already considers you a Friend, if you should ever want to have some fun. (Did I say politely? Let me rephrase: Sera demanded that I extend the offer since you "aren't like the other arse-for-brains noble whosits that trumpet power over the little people". I thought you might enjoy her exact words.)
I'll see you back home. Kirkwall's going to need us both, I think.
Don't get into too much trouble. See you soon.

Love,
Varric

-x-

Dear Lucy,
I was glad to hear from you. I'm happy to hear that you are doing better after our time together. I had hoped that you might walk away from it all with a better understanding of yourself.
I miss you, too. Almost more than seems prudent. It's a little quieter without you here to pester me while I work. I miss your unexpected arrivals, when you would show up in my office unannounced. I keep thinking every time that door opens it's going to be you with that smirk of yours and a sarcastically cheerful greeting.
I do hope I'll see you again. I'm sure you'll know where to find me if you should ever like to see me again.
Please forgive the brevity of the letter, but I felt I had to return one to you even though I hardly have the time. Alice has been keeping us all busy, even with Corypheus gone.

Stay safe, Lucy. I love you.
Cullen