Chapter 48: The Child of Stars, part IV

-o0o-

Uncle Gamlen's House, Lowtown,

It had been a month since their arrival into Lowtown, dirtied and down on their spirits, but the Hawkes and Anders managed to avoid the terribly scrutiny of the Templars. That didn't mean they had a couple of close calls and the last one had truly convinced the elder Hawke to decide against staying in Kirkwall, despite his mother's wishes.

As it was, the two were having a rather heated discussion in the dainty room of the hovel they all occupied.

"Mother, we can't stay here, no matter how much you wish to."

"But, if you can just give Kirkwall a chance, sweetheart," his mother pleaded, her eyes wet with moisture. Her lips trembled at the thought of having to leave her hometown so quickly, just when they found her old home, her heritage, everything that meant to be an Amell. She was not stupid, however, especially when so many things have been going on in Kirkwall, so many unwanted changes against mages.

She had wanted to blame it on the newcomer in their family. Arren was so like his father, always wanting to help people but well aware of the dangers if he was too involved in other people's affairs. Ever since the blonde mage, Anders, had come into the family, the eldest was too concerned about the heavy presence of templars and his worrisome had infected Bethany too. No, that wasn't fair. Leandra couldn't blame everything on Anders, who had done more than his fair share of work around the house. Being the only healer in the family, the blonde mage was all too busy tending to Arren's hurts as well as his family's. She too feared the Templars and if it weren't for the Blight, she honestly had to say that she would never have brought her family back to Kirkwall. There was just too much history there, too much unresolved issues that still haunt her to this day.

"Believe me, mum," Arren replied, taking her trembling hands in his own. "What happened last week...it was through sheer dumb luck we didn't get discovered by Meredith and her cohorts."

Leandra nodded and she really did try to withhold the tears that threatened to spill out. A lady of grace does not show tears in front of anyone. That's what her mother told her all those years ago and to this day, she had never cried, not even when her eldest child had carried Malcolm's broken body back to their cottage three and a half years ago.

"Also, I've been having these strange dreams..." Arren's sentence trailed off and her son turned away, his eyes not directly looking into hers.

"What? What is it, dear?" Leandra asked and she gently but firmly brought her son's face back to her own, trying to see what Arren was afraid of saying to her.

Arren's eyes held a tinge of a foreign emotion, something that the mother of the three had never seen before. It was fear and Leandra's heart broke at the sight of it in her son's golden eyes.

"I fear, that if we stay, then Dad won't be alone anymore and..."

Arren would have continued but her slender finger pressing against his lips stopped him and she hugged her child tightly.

"I understand, Arren," she told him. "But Carver, he would want to stay..."

"I know. I already talked to him about it. As soon as I said that you're coming with us, he reluctantly agreed with me."

Arren gave her a lopsided grin and Leandra let out a sigh of relief, seeing the old Arren peek through the mask of experience and loss.

"But where..."

"We're going back, mother. Back to Lothering. I've a feeling Father wanted us back there anyways."

"But, it's not safe! The darkspawn-" Leandra heard her voice tremble as she protested and she hated it when she sounded so weak, not so like the noble Amells that lived in Kirkwall all those years ago.

Arren for his part looked all the part of his proud heritage. Sharp golden eyes framed by slender eyebrows that, along with his high cheekbones, gave him a regal look. The tall mage bestowed her a reassuring smile while holding her hands in his own. As Leandra glanced at their joined hands, she became startled at the sudden change in them. It felt like only yesterday when she dabbed at her eldest hand for a deep cut he had acquired by climbing a tree and falling down due to a loose branch. The hand had accidentally brushed too hard against a straggler and Leandra remembered dressing the tiny hand before kissing it. Now, though, his hands encompassed hers. The palms were broad and heavily calloused from lengthy periods of wielding a staff. Strong hands. If she didn't know any better, she would have figured her son to be a warrior of high status, perhaps serving as part of the Royal Military of Ferelden.

"Mum?" Leandra exhaled softly, a little startled at the question that interrupted the quiet interlude between mother and son.

"I'm alright. I just-I just realized how much you've grown," she replied in a quiet tone, her finger following a deep crease in his hand, a line that wasn't there a few years ago.

"It's ok, mum. It'll be ok," Arren said and he embraced his mother, giving her all the support she needed through the strength of his arms, the sound of reassurance in his voice.

Mother and son spent a long time in that state, each quietly contemplating the moment and just relishing in the fact that the family, while not entirely whole, stood strong and unyielding before the calamity of the Blight and its effects.

Later that night, with the option of the teleportation spell temporarily gone, they had discussed their future voyage back to Ferelden in the pale light of their lantern and, under a dark sky, boarded a two-mast ship which was heading out to Amaranthine. However, as Arren himself stood on the deck of the boat, he thought he heard something, a cry of exultation, and the dark-haired mage looked up.

It was a dark night, with the moon still waiting to make its appearance from behind thick clouds, but Arren's keen eye could ascertain a silhouette gliding through the darkness. For just a moment, the moon made a quick appearance but it allowed Arren to see the shape clearly and his heart stopped. There was no way. They were told to be extinct after the Fourth Blight, several centuries ago!

As if sensing that someone had seen it, the creature gave one last shriek, a sound that made Arren's hairs stand up, before vanishing entirely, never reappearing later that night, even with a full moon.

-o0o-

Old Temple of Haven

The valley between the Old Temple and the other side of the mountain was oddly quiet except for the soft crackling of fire and hushed murmurs of the people sitting next to the campfire. The gigantic body of the recently killed High Dragon stunk up the valley and it was only thanks to the freezing temperature that it hadn't begun to rot. At least not yet. However, the coldness did not bode well for the only person lying underneath a heap of blankets. The man shivered and he tossed restlessly beneath the heavy weight of woolen covers and bear skins. Even Wynne's warmth balms barely kept him warm and preventing his body from entering hypothermia. The elderly mage tsked in slight annoyance when her patient thrashed around so much that his only source of warmth shifted away from him. Hadrian, on the other hand, merely stared at the injured man with worried blue eyes. His nails, bit down so much that the flesh underneath started appearing, were worn and filthy. Lines decorated his haggard face and Wynne started to think that she may have another patient on her hands, again.

The battle with the High Dragon, fierce and overwhelming, took a heavy toll on all of the four travelers. Already weary from fighting with the unexpected cultists inside the Old Temple, the High Dragon almost made a meal out of them. The fact that Hadrian was forced out of the fight so soon cemented the doubts that had clawed at the two ladies. Wynne had immediately enforced her defenses by covering her frail body with the stones from the earth. Leliana's arrows shot straight and true, and miraculously one struck one of the eyes, rendering the High Dragon blind on their side. It was, in fact, the only reason the two ladies survived and for Alistair to make his finishing move within the jaws that held him.

It took the two ladies a few moments to realize that High Dragon had fallen, the sudden silence falling on them shocking them into a dazed stupor. The eyeless side of its face stared fathomlessly at them and their enemy looked more frightening in death than when it lived. A pained moan to the left of them was what spurned them into action and it wasn't until midday that a fire was going and Alistair's wounds were tended too. Hadrian had only suffered a mild concussion, an injury that a simple kit could fix.

"Damn it, Alistair," Hadrian muttered angrily, his hand draping a small cloth over his lover's forehead. "Come on. You have to pull through this. We've still got the second part to go through, right?"

A pained moan was all he got out of Alistair and Hadrian squeezed his hand to let the other warrior know that he wasn't alone.

"He'll be fine," Wynne tried to assuage the young Warden and it worked for a little while until Alistair's fever spiked in the next few candlelights. At this time, the only healer in the group was too busy to reassure the pair that Alistair would be fine.

The next morning was undoubtedly even colder than the previous day and Hadrian had huddled closer to his wounded partner, hoping that his own body heat would stabilize Alistair's. As it were, the action was unnecessary and prompted a happy moan from the blonde warrior.

"...H-Hadrian?"

The other warrior started at the hushed whisper of his name and he leaned over Alistair, eyes peering anxiously at the rousing man.

Hadrian didn't have to wait long and he gifted Alistair a beautiful smile upon seeing dark brown eyes.

"What? Did I trip again and knock myself out?" Alistair joked and he attempted to sit up. Hadrian put a hand on his chest to stop him but apparently Alistair's body did the work for him. The blonde groaned and he winced. His hand reached for his side and the blonde's eyes widened at the sight of his bandaged torso.

"I guess I did more than trip and get knocked out, huh? Ow! Hey!" Hadrian had slapped him across the back of the head, gently of course, but the silver-haired warrior had to physically do something to his stupid, clumsy, idiotic-

"But, I did kill that mangy beast," Alistair's smile grew even bigger when the blonde espied an enormous violet lump resting a few feet away from them.

Hadrian just shook his head and corrected his current line of thoughts describing his lover. Brave Prince. The word 'Prince' felt weighty, perhaps more so now than the original announcement, right before they crossed the bridge to Redcliffe Village. At that time, Hadrian had pushed it in the back of his room as he had more pressing concerns at the moment. First, Fergus was a highly unexpected and very welcomed surprise. Secondly, the Redcliffe Village had to be saved and the presence of Loren didn't help anything either. Now though, with the threat of either being killed by a High Dragon or failing in their mission to save the Arl just being the only two issues, other concerns cropped into Hadrian's head. Alistair was the late King's brother and Hadrian became worried at how Alistair would react when he would eventually find out that Cailan had more than just a passing fancy with his current lover. Would he be pissed and leave in a huff? Or maybe do something worse-to be disappointed with him and stay with him, but as friends instead. Shit, scratch all that out. Alistair almost died. While the Blight may take one of their lives at the end of it all, Hadrian preferred it to be his. Alistair's life is more important, now more than ever. Ferelden needs a King and Alistair's the only heir to the throne. Either way, he was going to lose him...

Apparently, Hadrian took too long to answer one of Alistair's question for a finger tilted his chin up.

"Hadrian?"

"It's nothing," Hadrian couldn't stand the look of genuine concern in those soft orbs and he so much wanted to tear his eyes away.

"I'm here," Alistair whispered to him, his lips a mere inch away from his. "And I know what's been bothering you but we'll sort this out, ok?"

"You do?" Hadrian's eyebrows almost went into his hairline.

"The whole Prince thing. I should have known something was bothering you. You bite your nails, for one thing, and-"

Now, it was Alistair's turn to look away, finding the dragon corpse a more interesting sight to gaze at rather than Hadrian's own handsome face. "I also had a pretty good hunch that you and Cailan...umm..."

"Who told you this?" The sudden change in Hadrian's demeanor, from demure to almost snarling in his face, completely took Alistair by surprise. Those blue eyes flashed angrily at him and the blonde wished he was still unconscious or maybe just kept his mouth shut. He really was too honest for his own good. That's what Duncan had told him anways.

"Actually, no one told me. I kind of saw how you reacted to King Cailan at Ostagar, before...before everything happened. I may be seen as oblivious or ignorant in some cases, but I'm not stupid."

"Why-why didn't you mention this?"

"Well, uhh, at that time, we weren't...I didn't think..." Alistair stammered nervously and Hadrian's anger melted away at the way his lover was trying to find the right words to make it. One of Alistair's greatest quality was his inability to lie and Alistair's admission lightened some of the burdens that weighed heavily on Hadrian's mind. Alistair was still stammering and Hadrian knew the only way to halt his stuttering.

The kiss felt deeper somehow and it effectively stopped the then constant dribble of nonsense coming out of Alistair's mouth. All that came out now was a heartfelt groan, the vibration sending pleasurable jolts through the both of them.

They would have continued kissing and perhap gone further than that were it not for a quiet 'ahem' from a spectator. Both men's eyes popped open and almost jumped from each other, acting like a pair of teengers getting caught by their parents while snogging. As one, they slowly turned to the direction of the cough and collectively exhaled a sigh of relief.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but supper is ready," Leliana announced her presence unnecessarily and the twinkle in her green eyes had them thinking that she rather liked the show of two hot men making out. "Nice to see you well and awake, Alistair."

The redhead smirked and Alistair, puzzled at her strange smile, glanced at her and back at Hadrian before staring down at the obvious tent in his smallclothes.

"Oh...uhh...Leliana..." Alistair stammered again and Hadrian let out a light-hearted laugh, a sound that had Alistair almost forget his embarassment over his visible erection. The archer, thank the Maker, had already left and thus spared Alistair any need to apologize for public decency.

Alistair was still blushing, even well after Leliana left, and Hadrian thought it was cute. Yes, cute. Cute and handsome, and very well endowed. Heat rose in his body and the silver-haired Cousland couldn't help but imagine the two of them rolling around in the dirt, making tender love under the pale moonlight. What surprised him even more was at how open he was to the idea. A few months ago, at Ostagar, he would have blatantly denied having any such thoughts. Now, having faced Alistair's near brush with death, Hadrian didn't want anyone else to accompany him to the final fight with the Archdemon.

"After this is done, do you want to see how I look under a full moon?" The question, though innocent in appearance, was in fact a very intimate one and one Hadrian didn't ask freely. As Zarieth had told him before, no one saw his other form and lived to tell the tale. In fact, Alistair was the only exception.

The blonde inhaled sharply and for a moment, Hadrian thought it was wrong to ask him of that. He was about to say something else and leave when strong arms suddenly embraced him, bringing their bodies closer.

"Yes," Alistair breathed against his ear, sending another shock of pleasure down his spine. "When this is over, you can show me whatever you want."

Hadrian relaxed against the other body and he relished this moment with all his heart. As he closed his eyes and drifted lazily into a light slumber, he thought he heard a wolf cry near them. It rang of triumph and acceptance, feelings Hadrian himself was experiencing. Today was going to be a good day.

-TBC-

A/N: Not sure if this chapter was rushed or not. I tried to emphasize Hadrian's acceptance of Alistair being his lover, despite his relation to the late King Cailan. Hope the message got through!

Many thanks to who read this story and especially to the following, loyal readers who left something behind afterwards: david9999, kogouma, Snowhelm, Sculla, kdarnell2, Biganimefan2, gatorsnacks, and the kid.