Chapter 25-

Hoped you enjoyed the last chapter, I know I enjoyed my Hawke finally getting her revenge!

Don't worry for the people who aren't reading the Hawke's memory chapters, she will be telling a less graphic tale later on.

Huge thank you for your support! It makes me so happy when I read that you guys have been enjoying it, and if you have anything you would like to see, or any suggestions please do not hesitate to private message me! I love hearing from you! Your reviews/follows/favourites have been awesome!

Thank you, to my beta enchantment! I cannot believe how quickly these months writing have gone and you've been amazing and supportive the entire time! You're amazing and everyone should check out her fanfics!

Love,

Lunaaa

Xx

Hawke stirred groggily and for a moment thought she was back at the hovel that she had called home for nearly a year and a half now. Then she remembered she had argued with Carver, that she had gone to Varric's suite… and that she had…

OH SHIT.

She shot up too quickly as she tried to take in her surroundings, she twisted her head around a multiple number of times like a demented owl with a crick in its neck before finally confirming to herself where she was, what she had done and who with.

She had gotten blindly drunk, and climbed into Fenris' mansion. Not only had she done that but she had flirted with him and got him intoxicated too. And whilst they were both drunk, they had opened up to each other in a whole new level, maybe on a higher plain than that of her brother.

She rubbed her temples before flashing the sleeping Fenris a quick look. He seemed harmless, curled on the floor with the blanket hugging him tightly. She looked down at her own blanket and realised he must have thrown it on her when she had… fallen asleep.

Oh, she knew full well that she had passed out, what annoyed her was how much of what happened last night was unknown to her. Did she come onto him? She laughed at the very thought, causing Fenris to stir in his sleep and bringing a panic to her stomach that would send even the Maker's Templars packing out of the city like bat's locked in a ringing belfry.

She had spoken of her father's death, she remembered that much. But what else? Did he know of that night? Did she tell him something she thought she would never tell another soul? Why had she come here? Why was it whenever she felt vulnerable, she seemed to run to Fenris as if he was her protector? What was this?

She wrinkled her nose as she gazed as the sleeping ex-slave trying to look at him a little closer than normal as if there was something very obvious that she was missing, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. He stirred again, opening one eye sleepily and then looking at her for a second and falling back to slumber.

Whatever it was, she didn't want to face it right now. Nor did she want to face the embarrassment of speaking to him about it, would he mock her? Would he tell her to get out now she was no longer intoxicated? She wouldn't let herself find out.

As quietly as she could she tiptoed out of Fenris' bedroom and down the lobby steps as fast as she could, darting out of the front door and into the morning light of Hightown.

Maker's breath and Andraste's sagging breasts! Curse whoever made the sun so fucking bright!

The sun's glare hit her like a ton of bricks as she tried to quickly escape Fenris' radar. It was as if some sadistic bastard up in the sky was purposefully making the sun follow her as punishment for her behaviour yesterday. Admittedly, whoever it was had every right to do as she had behaved erratically, for too long she had kept her calm with her brother. For too long she had held him back.

She walked past the Hanged man and for a moment she wanted to go in and let Varric distract her for a few hours instead of heading home to her family but she carried on walking to their hovel at top speed, if not to sort it out with her younger brother then to get away from a conversation with Fenris about last night's events.

Feelings! Blast them all to the Maker's side along with the bastards who made them!

She stopped at the front door in realisation of what she had just thought. So she admitted that she felt something for the slave, more so than she felt for most. She was normally sympathetic to the lost souls that were her companions on her daily business, but there was something else there. Maybe it was that they were mutual, that they were both escaping something they knew wouldn't end until blood was spilt? But the sorry difference about the two is that where Fenris was ready for the bloodshed, Hawke knew that she would crumble before the battle begun.

She opened the door to find that her mother was not in, which with the hangover she had she was most thankful for. She looked around the hovel swiftly to check if her uncle was also in and when she couldn't see him she decided to inhale deeply, knowing full well that the old bastard may be passed out in a corner. Gamlen regularly did so, but you could normally find where he had passed out by the strong aroma of sweat and cheap ale oozing from the location.

After confirming her mother and uncle were both out, she decided she would count the money she had been gathering for the expedition. She knew they were close; she had been working tirelessly for six weeks, missing out on meals just to gather the money. She went into the bedroom and found her brother sat on his cot, staring at the floor with a brow furrowed in thought.

They locked eyes for a moment, and in her hungover haze she remembered what he had said.

He had wanted Bethany back, and he was right to want her. Bethany had not been tainted by hatred and anger; she had not been scarred to the point where there was practically no one underneath the muscle and bone. Aria was the ghost of a girl who once lived, and maybe it should have been her corpse that died and not that of her beautiful younger sister.

She loved her in every way imaginable, she adored her more than anyone and after that night, she envied her more than anything in the universe. The way she smiled when her magic fluttered around the air, the way the boys stared at her coal hair and rosy cheeks whilst they called Aria a freak for her pale locks; everyone had adored and loved Bethany, and she could see why.

Carver decided he wanted to speak first, interrupting her trail of thought.

"Aria, what I said about you and Bethany, I didn't mean it, I truly didn't. I was just…" he had begun to say, but she interrupted him, wanting to get her words out before him as she normally did.

"Angry? I know what it is to be angry brother, things have happened to me and I truly wish I could make them go away. You were right in some of the things you said, I should not involve you in my anger; you are your own man now. You do not need to protect me any longer; I am not fragile. I wish I could let go Carver, I do. But I just can't, I truly can't. Sometimes I distract myself but it is a constant beating in my heart. I wish Bethany were here and I were dead, you're right," she said, Carver's eyes widening at her statement.

"No, Az! I don't want you to be dead, I was angry, I explained! I just got pissed off that you followed us; I just wanted some privacy, some time away from being your brother. I wish you'd just tell me what happened all those years ago! I wish I could do something!" he said, stamping his foot into the wooden floor in frustration.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he began to repeat, putting his hands into his face and Hawke knew that he was sincere, Carver was terrible at explaining his feelings and yet he never realised that he never had to with her. She could just tell how it was, just by speaking to him for a moment.

"So, how did the picnic go? I didn't follow you that far; I was interrupted," she said, a coy grin spreading on her face at her brother's blush.

"I-uh, we kissed and then before we really got anywhere… a guard caught us and escorted us away from the beach..." Carver admitted, his blush going deeper as he played with the mouldy blanket on the cot.

Hawke laughed at the sight of her brother, and she thanked whoever was up there for him. She never would tell him to his face, but she would go mad without him. He was her voice of reason, her shoulder to lean on and her best friend. And he had mended some of the wounds from her past even though they burned even now.

Carver's eyes narrowed at her laughter and in a curious tone he asked, "What interrupted you from being the nosiest person in Kirkwall? Must have been something to stop you putting your Hawke beak where it's not wanted!" he quipped, a small smile appearing on his lips to make sure they were okay.

She gave him a small smile in return and realised her cheeks had become quite warm.

"I-uh bumped into Fenris, he saw what I was doing and intervened…"

"And last night? Where did you go? We looked for you for hours…"

"I-uh had a drink,"

"Alone? You know you're not supposed to do that on your own anymore, remember the thugs?"

"I wasn't alone, I uh- I went to Fenris' mansion," she said, whilst her cheeks stained a deep red at her brother's assuming gaze.

"I see, it seems we both have a thing for elves then doesn't it, big sister?" Carver said coyly, a grin on his face as he stared at her growing blush.

"I don't think so, I think it's just coincidence that he's been the unfortunate one that had to throw a blanket on me when I passed out. I think he's more pissed off than anything else," she replied, her tone collected as she tried to lie to her brother. She took a deep inhale of air as she waited for his reply, knowing full well that her brother knew her almost as well as she knew herself.

Almost.

"Well, at least with Fenris you know he wouldn't touch you with a barge pole because of your little secret unlike Anders' who'd probably make you into a living shrine for him to worship," Carver grunted to himself as he started to put on his boots.

"Can you just not be civil to Anders? He did give us the maps we need, and he does a lot of good for the city," Hawke retorted, she didn't understand her brother's hatred of Anders, she knew of the spirit and was wary, but she saw a goodness in him that she hadn't seen since her father.

"His bloody ideas are going to get him locked in the Gallows with the Templars," Carver replied, shoving his other boot on with force as if to empathise his words.

"Speaking of Templars, have you spoken to Cullen recently?" Hawke asked, watching her brother bolt upright at her question.

"No, why would I?" he asked, his tone suspicious.

"You don't have to kid me brother, I know you were curious about joining the order and I understand now that you feel as if you must be held because of your heritage. When the expedition is over, you'll be sat in a house bored whilst Mother dresses me up to be the noble daughter she's always dreamed of having," Hawke jested, but she knew it was true. As soon as they had the gold, she would be forced to retreat her former life of Lowtown jobs and cut throat deals and trade it for a life of tea and courting for a suitable husband that would strengthen their lineage and appease the matriarch of their family. Her mother would relish in reliving her old life.

"No, I don't think they allow recruits who are courting an apostate," Carver said absentmindedly as he played with the boot lace.

"Yes, please make sure I'm there when you tell Mother that after we've raised enough money to make us rich and regain our nobility that you're courting an elven apostate who likes to chat with a demon about a mirror," Hawke quipped, almost laughing at the image of Mother's face.

"Please, just don't even start. I'll tell her when she's drunk, or ill… maybe both? I think I'm going to look into the guard, but I… I just don't want to be in your shadow any longer sister," Carver said, a serious tone in his voice as he stood up and looked at Hawke in the eyes, brown staring out into green like a deep mixture of forestland.

"I understand, Carver. Now stop feeling guilty, it's over with we were both angry, we've lost father and Bethany; I don't want to lose you too. So stop being morbid and guilty and go and get Merrill, and ahem, have fun."

He gave her a swift nod and hug and almost skipped out of the room, she hadn't seen Carver so elated in years. She knew deep down he was right, he had been forced to be in her shadow and stuck with her for so many years, and it was time for him and mother at least to move on with their lives.

At the thought of moving on a certain Tevinter elf came into her mind, and she cursed him for doing so even though he wasn't there. In need of a distraction desperately, she reached under her cot and under the floorboards to the place where she hid her expedition savings.

She got out the money she had been saving for the best part of three months now and started to pile it into towers of coins, hoping that her estimates had been correct and that her uncle had stayed clear of it. She knew he had, if Gamlen knew where it was there wouldn't be a single coin left in her coffer box. As she counted she began to wonder if Fenris had woken up yet, and what he would be thinking…

48…49…50

After counting through to be sure three times, she quickly bagged the money and put it in her pack and set off to the Hanged Man in an excited flurry.

They had enough money for the expedition!