Time is a healer, so they say. She had both time and Anders as healers by her side, and they collaborated in healing her wounds. Love had left her heart an open sore, and it had taken love, again, to vanquish that plague. Her ache softened, and the same was happening, slowly, to her resentment towards Fenris. She did no longer flinch every time he talked to her, although she couldn't still bring herself to visit him at his mansion. She simply saw no reason why: resentment might have been soothed, but she still could not afford to name him a friend. In truth, she didn't know what to do of him. And yet, strangely enough, she didn't want him to leave Kirkwall. Of that, she was afraid: he seemed more and more tormented, more and more impatient, more and more ... out of place. Lonely. But taking care of his wounds was not anymore his responsibility, nor she had any right to.

She thought better to leave the matter to his closest friend: Varric and Isabela. Though, when day after day she found herself glancing at him and noticed how broodier and broodier he was, she ended up changing her mind: she would have gone to him and she would have tried to offer him her friendship.

"Come with me Hawke. If this is a trap, I need someone who can fight to back me up."

Hawke swallowed back the bitter words on the tip of her tongue. "Someone who can fight"? Was that everything she was to him now? She remained silent, staring at him.

"I know you owe me no favors, but if we happen to go there anyway..."

She would never have expected him to hold out the hand of friendship.

§§

"What's gotten into you, Anders? What in the world made you talk like that?"

"I only spoke the truth, love. All his hatred towards mages is only jealousy in disguise"

"Don't – love – me, Anders! Maker's balls, he didn't even remember that! He was meeting his only family left and you had to be a jerk. I guess you couldn't have waited a couple of hours, you had to pick at him right in front of his sister!"

"I can only hope you' will act protective towards a son of our as protective as you are towards Fenris now. He broke your heart, did you forget that?"

§§

She refused to even reply to Anders, but she hadn't. She hadn't forgotten the ordeal Fenris had put her through, nor the uneasiness she had felt the first months at Anders' side, like she was concealing some kind of guilty secret. Her resentment was still there: softened, soothed, dying, but still alive.

"Maybe it's time I leave this hatred behind me. It's poison, yet I continue to swallow it."

And yet, Fenris knew better than that. He probably had no idea, but he was given voice to her exact thoughts. His words were enough to clear her sight: she had always known he was suffering too, she had just been too focused on herself to admit it. It wasn't him putting her through all the pain and uncertainty, it had been her choice too.

"If I have been difficult, I'm sorry. Clearly I owe you more than I believed."

Finally, she could manage to smile in reply without faking it. And she found out that seeing her friend, Fenris, smile again was a warm, welcome change.

§§

"You are the most important thing in my life, but some things matter more than my life. More than either of us. I'm sorry."

She was no fool, of course. She had always known that he was getting more and more deranged as the days were passing by. But he had always remained affectioned, gentle, passionate: and she had trusted him, enough to distract the Grand Cleric for the sake of all mages, and for the love she bore.

Vivianne Hawke had always dreamed of a lavish marriage, a long white gown, colourful petals raining on her. She was no fool. She had known for a long time that Anders could never have gifted her that dream. However, she would never have expected a betrayal.

"I told you I would break your heart. Just now it breaks mine to do it."

At that moment, she hated him for breaking her heart in a so gentle, delicate manner.

§§

Anders never left the house, nor she asked him to leave. They kept on having breakfast, wishing each other goodnight and share the bed: a couple of times they made love, too, but it turned out so awkward that both of them, without exchanging a single word, had agreed to refrain themselves even from trying. And every night, laying awake, she kept wondering why he had to become someone so different from the man she had learned to love.

She was aware how much their friends had noticed: once, she and Anders would chat all the time, shoulder to shoulder. Now, all he told her was to keep focused on their current duty. Luckily for her, everyone was tactful enough to not ask her why they kept living together when they didn't even talk to each other anymore.

But one day, someone spoke up.

"You ... are living with Hawke now?"

She couldn't mistake Fenris' voice. Giving a glance back, she saw him walking side by side with Anders. Dismayed, she wondered what kind of question was that. Of course Anders did. Fenris knew that very well.

"What's it to you?"

"Be good to her. Break her heart, and I will kill you"

Vivianne froze in place, causing to Aveline to bump her. Time seemed to stop: no one was talking, no one was moving anymore, all while Fenris was looking right into Anders' eyes, tense jaw and icy stare. It took several seconds to Varric to recall Fenris' attention and drag him away, to Aveline to encourage her to keep walking and to Anders to sheepishly follow the group.

§§

Not once the smile faded on her lips, as well as her constant jokes became her better armor. Thing had gotten even worse after Leandra's death. Since when she had found out about her and Fenris' liaison, a chilling layer had descended between her and Isabela: she simply couldn't bear the thought of him by her side, though she would never have dared to say it out loud nor ask herself why. In truth, everyone could see the shade overlaying her continuous joking, and Varric and Aveline had even attempted to speak with her seriously. To no use: she had brushed him away through her usual smiling mask. She couldn't bear seeing Anders simply keeping quiet, probably lost in long, complex conversations with Justice. So Vivianne took shelter in her own mind, barely taking care of anyone else apart herself, blind to anything else except what Kirkwall asked of her Champion. That was, too, the only way she knew to feel useful, to pursue her goal: making other people's lives better.

The only exception in that midst of silence was Merrill. The cute, frank Merrill, aware like everyone else that something was wrong but not discreet enough to suppress her thoughts.

One day, she heard her earnest friend giggling and ogling in Fenris' direction. His broody, brusque reaction burst out almost immediately.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're in love!"

"I am not."

"Everytime she looks away, you stare at Hawke with those sad puppy eyes."

"There are no puppy eyes."

Vivianne had listened silently, forcing herself to let the embarrassing chat flow away. And she almost surprised herself when she turned, clutched fists and flaming stare. She needn't say anything. It was Varric, the kind, patient Varric, who led away Merrill, arm in arm with her.

§§

Red, fluffy clumps were garnishing the sky. As one was eaten by the celestial sphere, another flew up to take its place. A twisted shape of red smoke had replaced the grand Chantry. Vivianne Hawke wasn't looking at it, though she kept that sight locked into her head. Her glare was fixed on her love's back. One moment she saw him planting a magical bomb into the Chantry, the other she could feel his gentle hands caressing her skin, his whispered words as he comforted her after Leandra's death. She could hear both the sound of their laughs intertwined and the rumble of the explosion. His confession and his fear that she could have aided him.

She couldn't take it anymore. And for the first time in weeks, she turned to her friends for real: she asked their opinion. Listening to their different viewpoints somehow woke something inside her. There was a whole world inside each of them, and as focused as she had been on herself, she had denied them all for much too long, hidden behind a laughing mask. Even Anders. Maybe, all this time he had needed her, and she had offered him only silence and disdain.

A stern look on his face, Fenris was the last one to talk. And the only one to take some steps towards Anders. "I had warned you, mage. I told you I would have killed you, if you had broken her heart".

Not the lyrium veins glowing, but his calm tone, so brimming with cold rage, scared Hawke. And as she had done three years before, she held his arm and stopped him. Staring back into his eyes full of hurt, she simply asked him to stop. She could distinctly see the last shard of hope splintering into his stare; and at the same time, a relieving acceptance. Forgiveness, without any trace of resentment.

"I want you to know, Hawke. Meeting you was the only good fortune I ever had"

"I ... don't think I ever thanked you, Fenris. When you left me, I couldn't cope with my resentment towards you. I never cared about your feelings. And yet, today I can forgive him because of you. You trusted me more than anyone. You came to me when you found your sister and you needed someone by your side, even though we hadn't talked in ages. You were the first to ask for forgiveness. And you trust me enough to fight for what you hate. I wish it didn't take the Chantry explosion for me to stop molding my loved ones in who I tought they had to be. I wish I actually listened to you all instead of deciding in my mind who you had to be and why you acted as you did"

§§

"And what about me? Do you really want to fight your own brother?"

"You're the templar. You tell me"

"This isn't what I want. I ..."

"Ser Carver. I suggest you remember our purpose"

"I ...Yes, Knight Commander Meredith"

Now that Carver has chosen to fight by Meredith's side instead of hers, they really are her family. Anders, Fenris, Aveline, Isabela, Varric, Merrill. With them by her side, she marches to battle: for the mages and for freedom. Without them, she would crumble on the floor and cry for Carver's betrayal. Carver: not her brother anymore, only the templar. She was wrong about everything but him, and yet she can't blame him completely. When she chose to defend the mages, she was very aware Carver belonged to the rival formation. Weigh down by a heavy heart, Vivianne asks forgiveness to her mother for what she may have to do.

§

As she, Anders, Fenris and Aveline reach the Gallows courtyard, the last glimpse of hope dies. Her little brother is by Meredith's side. He may have fled the battle and he didn't. She hears the Knigt Commander's words like they were muffled, as if a bubble isolated her from her surroundings. Nevertheless, she keeps squeezing her staff. Not even for a moment she thinks about yielding.

When Meredith points her lyrium's sword right to her chest, she doesn't say a single word. She doesn't even look at her: her stare is set on Carver. She desperately tries to remember as the child she sparred with, one wooden sword for each, and the young, sullen boy ready to protect his sisters against any danger. She recalls the morning when he knocked out Bethany's suitor to prevent him from spying on her and find out she was a mage.

"No. I won't kill my sister for you."

She barely can believe her own ears when Carver talks. The weight on her chest lifts up: she's never been gladder to be wrong about someone. It doesn't matter now: whether she lives or dies, she does with all her family by her side.

Vivianne Hawke smiles as Meredith charges, and a lightning crackles on her left hand.