Notes: The song inspiration of this chapter is, as you probably know, "Hallelujah."
Chapter 22: Love Is Not a Victory March
Carver woke up after several hours of restless dreaming and immediately wanted a drink.
"Here," Varric said, passing a flask to him. "It's just water, though."
"That's what I want."
"Glad to see you alive, Junior. Junior Warden, I suppose I should say," he snarked.
He glowered back at the dwarf but drank deeply from the flask. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Anders. "I see what you mean about bad dreams."
Anders nodded. "When the Warden-Commander told all of us the 'Warden facts of life' in Vigil's Keep, she said that during the Blight, her dreams had included the Archdemon."
Carver shuddered. "Thank the Maker the Blight is over, then. What I saw was bad enough—an ogre, a lot of smaller kinds, and a glimpse of this... thing. I've never seen anything like it. A vast thing with tentacles..."
At those words, Anders was stricken, his face drawn and ghastly pale. He glanced quickly at Caitlyn, closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head and turned back to Carver. "I... know what you saw. I don't want to talk about that while we're still in the Deep Roads." He swallowed hard. "Let's get back to the surface."
Carver was surprised at Anders' stark aversion to this subject, but he seemed to understand that it had triggered something extremely traumatic for him, and to Carver's credit, he did not press it. Caitlyn was curious as to what it was that Anders had seen—and her brother had now seen in his dreams—but she had a feeling she would regret that curiosity eventually, so she was glad to have something else to do in the meantime. Anders had not yet told her about everything that had happened in Amaranthine arling, just that there had been talking darkspawn and two leaders of warring factions, and people had been caught in the crossfire. He had clearly not wanted to relive it, and given the kinds of traumatic events that they had talked about, Caitlyn was sure that there had to have been something very bad indeed about his service in Amaranthine. Even the vague hint from Carver's nightmare—if that was the reason Anders had not spoken much of the past year—sounded very unpleasant. She suspected she would soon find out the full truth.
Varric found, to his relief, that the site of the Vault was very close indeed to the spot where Bartrand had locked them, and there were doors that opened readily to reveal a corridor that connected with their prior path. It was fortunate; the crew and the wagons were not far at all, and the treasure was easily loaded for transport. Carver kept his Joining cup, the gold belt that he had liked, and a few other portable items he fancied. Caitlyn felt bad for him; he should have been able to enjoy the spoils of their adventure too... but it had not worked out that way. At least none of us died, she thought.
"The Grey Wardens are near," Anders said in an undertone. "They are looking for the others they can sense, I expect."
"I can't sense them," Carver said.
"You'll be able to in time."
Varric nodded. "Since we have already cleared out this part of the Deep Roads, I guess I can lead the crew out. We'll be waiting for you near the surface."
"Do wait," Caitlyn urged her friend. "If you show up before my mother with none of us with you..." She shuddered.
Varric chuckled. "I wouldn't do that to her—or you!" The chuckles subsided, and he sighed heavily. "She's already not going to like your news. We can wait. Besides, I have business with my brother," he concluded menacingly.
"Warden Anders," said Jean-Marc Stroud in acknowledgment. "It is good to meet you. And a Warden I don't know." He nodded to Carver. "I am Jean-Marc Stroud of Orlais, serving the Grey Wardens in the Free Marches."
Anders nodded in return. "This is Carver Hawke. I should warn you... unless you have already discovered it for yourself, of course. This section of the Deep Roads does contain darkspawn. We even had to kill an ogre." He smiled grimly. "It's why Carver had to become a Warden, if you take my meaning."
Stroud frowned. "I am glad that he survived the Joining, of course—and welcome to the Order, Warden Carver—but... this woman... did she observe it? If she did, or anyone else, for that matter—"
Anders scowled. He had certainly shared plenty of Grey Warden secrets with Caitlyn, so he did not take personal offense at Stroud's implication that he was careless, but it was another matter entirely for someone else to speak of her in such a way, as a potential problem to be solved. "'This woman' is his sister and my fiancée, Warden Stroud. I do understand what has to be done on... these occasions. Ferelden may have had its Wardens annihilated in a battle, but we didn't lose all the lore and customs, you know."
Carver's eyebrows went up in approval of Anders' defense of his homeland. Stroud drew back. "I apologize. I meant no offense, and congratulations on your engagement." He managed an apologetic smile. "Are you going to take Warden Carver under your command, then?"
Oh, for the love of the Maker, Caitlyn thought, closing her eyes briefly. Stroud could not possibly have phrased that question in a way more guaranteed to provoke a bad reaction from Carver.
Anders realized what kind of remark Carver might make as well, and he instantly moved to stave off a belligerent response. "No, I am not. Warden-Commander Cousland left it up to anyone I successfully Joined as to whether they want to go to Ferelden to serve or take an assignment here—pending approval of the Wardens of the Free Marches, of course."
Stroud considered that. "Very well. If he chooses to remain on this side of the Waking Sea, we will be glad to have him. Still, Warden Carver," he said, turning to him, "you must decide soon, if Warden Anders is not going to be your commanding officer."
Sweet Andraste, will you stop saying that, Caitlyn thought in exasperation—but fortunately, Carver was keeping his temper. Perhaps the experience of almost dying had changed him abruptly.
"I will need some time to tell my mother and make my decision," Carver replied to the Warden. "It won't take long, though."
Stroud nodded. "I had no family remaining when I joined. The Grey Wardens will, I hope, become a second family to you in time... but I understand that it is different when you do have blood relations. Welcome again to the Order, Warden."
Leandra was manifestly surprised to see the entire group return with no one missing. A quick chill passed down Caitlyn's spine at the realization that if Anders had not gone along—or if she had not managed to save him from the rock wraith's attack—then everyone would not have come back from the Deep Roads. She then felt a pang for what her mother would soon learn.
Mother will have to accept that her... surviving... children are grown, and we have our own lives and own paths, she thought as they approached her. Carver won't be around much, but Anders, Mal, and I will be living in the same house with her again. That is more than most parents have.
A smile formed on her face as Mal peeked from behind his grandmother's skirts, and the little boy cried out in relief and happiness as his parents approached. He paused for a moment before dashing forward to greet them.
"You're back!" he exclaimed, reaching Caitlyn. "You came back!" He gazed at the wagon full of crates. "Is that the treasure?"
"Shh," she urged him. "Not so loud. We don't want strangers to know it's in there—they might try to take it for themselves!" His eyes widened, and he nodded quickly. "But—yes, that's what it is! We're going to buy a nice, big house with it. Grandma will live with us again, and you'll have an even bigger room all to yourself!"
Not a word about Carver, Anders thought. He glanced up surreptitiously, trying to determine if Leandra had noticed and realized that Caitlyn had left out his name. It seemed not... so far.
Varric smiled a genuine smile at this family affection. Caitlyn wished that it could be like this for him... but perhaps his brother was just under the influence of that strange red lyrium. Perhaps it would be all right.
But at that moment, Leandra realized what Caitlyn had said, or rather, not said. "You did not mention Carver," she said, glancing at him. "Carver—are you moving out?"
Varric glanced down at the ground and stepped back slightly, leaving this to the family. To his credit, Carver did not make his sister or Anders break the news. He stepped forward and faced his mother.
"Mother," he said, keeping his voice steady, "while we were in the Deep Roads, something... happened."
"But you're here!" she exclaimed, interrupting him. "You're all right!"
"I am—thanks to him," he said with a nod to Anders, "and Cait for helping him out of a tight spot earlier in the expedition, before this thing happened with me. But"—he braced himself—"I had to fight off an ogre at close range, and—"
"An ogre?" she burst out. "There was an ogre there? I knew it wasn't safe..."
"So did we, Mother," he said pointedly, silencing her. "We knew it was a risk, and we were prepared. That's why we're all alive. Anyway, I contracted the Blight sickness from that—it's all right, Mother," he said, since she was suddenly looking faint, as if she might collapse. "Anders had supplies with him, and... well, in short, I am a Grey Warden now."
She wavered on her feet for a moment. Caitlyn moved to steady her, taking her arm. When she was in command of herself again, she spoke, her voice wobbly. "I knew something was going to happen," she whispered. "I knew it. You should have stayed at home, Carver—I'm glad you are alive, and thank you so much, Anders, for saving my son... but you'll have to leave, won't you? Anders has an appointment to serve the Blight refugees, but you are a swordsman. They will make you fight, won't they? You'll have to leave. You shouldn't have gone!"
"Mother," Carver said harshly, "I am not a child anymore. I'm a grown man. I meant to have a career in the Fereldan army, but after that didn't happen, I haven't known what I would do. Now I know. I will have a career fighting the filthy creatures that killed Bethany and Father, damaged our homeland, drove us from our home, and contributed to tearing them apart for years!" he finished, glancing with a nod at Caitlyn and Anders. "I'm glad of this and look forward to making them pay, and making the world a better place with every darkspawn that goes down. You would have me be your baby for the rest of my life instead! It's not natural—and just so you know, Mother, if I hadn't gone, I would have done something else instead."
She was crushed by the finality of his words, but she seemed to accept them.
Anders spoke up, his voice gentle. "You will have the rest of us nearby again," he said. "You won't be alone. And I'm sure you will see Carver from time to time."
"But where will you go?" she said.
Carver sighed. "I'm... thinking about that. There were a couple of other Wardens in the Deep Roads while we were there, and we met them. I can join their troop, which is based in Ansburg, or I could report to Amaranthine."
"Both are so far away," she whispered.
Amaranthine really isn't, thought Caitlyn. It's across the Waking Sea, not nearly as treacherous as the trip from Gwaren was... or he could take ship to Highever and finish the journey by land. And he would serve with the people who know Anders, other Fereldans. She realized that she hoped her brother would choose the Fereldan post... but ultimately it would be his choice.
She decided to speak up. "Mother, there's not a lot he could do in Kirkwall that actually uses his skills. He could have been a guard... if not for the fact that Aveline recommended against him because of his age," she finished with a glower; that was one thing she had difficulty forgiving their family friend for doing. "Or join the Templars—but these are mostly very corrupt and do terrible things. Did you want him involved in something like that? The Wardens are a noble order."
Leandra sighed in resignation.
Mal spoke up. "Being a Grey Warden is good!" he exclaimed. "Father and Uncle Carver are! Are you going to be one now, Mamma?"
Caitlyn laughed and pulled him into her arms, picking him up. "No, I don't think so, dear," she said. "Only if it becomes necessary."
I don't really want to play the odds that two siblings in the same family will survive the Joining, Anders thought. Please, love, be careful.
Varric seemed to realize that the situation was resolved, at least for the time being. He cleared his throat. "Well," he said, "I suppose we had best go through this treasure. Much of it is just coin, but there are some valuable artifacts, and some nice gems scattered throughout. You might want to see if there is anything you want to keep, before we dispose of the rest of it in our accounts."
"Of course," Caitlyn said, glad of the change of subject. "We'll get right to that."
Uncle Gamlen was about as sour as Caitlyn and the others had expected. He was obviously rather put out that they had accomplished their objective, since this meant that they would now have the power to keep him out of the Amell manor if they wanted, or heavily restrict his right to touch the remaining funds after it was purchased, but at the same time, he did not want to give the impression that he wished that any of them had actually died in the Deep Roads.
Merrill came to the Lowtown hovel too that evening. Carver took her aside for a private discussion once she appeared at the door, his face very dour and serious. Caitlyn bit her tongue at the sight; this did not look good, and if Carver did break up with her due to his Warden status—or ended it before it began, if they had not actually become a couple yet—then she was not sure what she would do. One part of her told her that it was none of her business and that she would have deeply resented Carver's interference in her love life. She suddenly remembered the early days, almost five years ago, when Carver had attempted to supervise them to prevent them from getting too intimate. She certainly had resented it. However, the other part of her whispered that it was different in this case, because this would be about preventing a breakup, not the formation of a couple, and there was no real reason that being a Grey Warden would prevent Carver from having a relationship.
Merrill did not leave the house after the discussion, however, and when the entire family sat down at the table for dinner, she joined. She looked uneasy but not miserable. Caitlyn wondered what Carver had said to her, but she did not dare ask.
After dinner, Merrill gave Carver a silent hug and departed at once for the alienage, offering her congratulations to the family before she did. Caitlyn had no idea what to make of it, and Merrill's unusual ways of responding to situations only complicated her analysis. She did not want her friend to be hurt, but she still wasn't sure if she should intervene in this.
Anders spoke up. "I really should go back to my clinic," he said. "It has been several days since I was there, and I should make sure everything is in order and that the refugees know it is open. And I should draft a letter for Warden-Commander Cousland about the darkspawn activity and creepy red lyrium in the Deep Roads while the memories are still new." He glanced at Caitlyn. "If you want to stay with your family tonight..."
She was torn. Carver, it seemed, would be gone soon, and she felt that she should spend time with him while she could, but her uncle manifestly did not want her here anymore.
Her brother seemed to understand. "Actually," Carver said, "I'd like to go back with you. Not overnight, Mother," he said as Leandra's face fell, "but I need to discuss some private Warden matters with him."
"Ah, yes," Anders said, remembering. "I did have some things to tell you."
"And I think it's time that you told us both what you encountered in Amaranthine arling," Caitlyn added. "We can p-u-t 'someone' to b-e-d first," she said, spelling it out because she knew that Mal was listening to this, and she was quite certain that whatever Anders had to relate, it was not something that her almost-four-year-old needed to hear.
Carver was unsettled by what Anders had just told him about Warden nightmares, appetite, and infertility. "So what you're saying is that... that Mal is..."
"The only Hawke there will be in the next generation, yes," Caitlyn said bitterly. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. "It's no one's fault. Neither of you could help becoming Wardens. It saved both of your lives, in fact, though for different reasons. But this is why I'm so determined that I will make things right for him. He truly is the future of this family now."
Anders sighed and rubbed his eyes. "There is something else that... I haven't yet told you, love, and I'm sorry. I don't actually think it will affect me—but it will probably affect your brother." He grimaced and launched into an explanation of the Warden's Calling, an explanation as clinical as he could make it, because otherwise it was simply too much.
"Thirty years when it's not a Blight," Carver said at the end, looking down. "I'll be about fifty. I suppose many people don't even live that long."
Caitlyn was gazing from Anders to Carver in mute horror. Why hadn't he told her about this until now? This was ghastly. It was horrific. So, she thought wretchedly, becoming a Grey Warden isn't a cure for the Blight sickness after all. It's just a postponement.
"In my specific case," Anders said, unable to look at either of them, "Justice... the Spirit Healing connection, which is so much more now that we're... united... well, he says that he is countering the Taint somewhat, and that he will be able to prevent me from having a Calling. But... not anything else. Definitely not the nightmares... and my appetite is also higher than what it was before I was Joined, though it's less than it was before we merged. And... probably not the..."
"The infertility either," Caitlyn finished sadly. "I suppose that doesn't surprise me. I would be with child again now if that were possible. Most likely." She gave him a brief, sad smile. "It didn't take us long before! But Carver... Maker, I'm so sorry. I know you don't want to hear this, but... I wonder now if Mother was right, in a way."
Carver sighed. "It is what it is. Everything worth having comes with a sacrifice."
"Warden-Commander Cousland expressed an interest in finding a way to prevent the Calling," Anders told him. "There is some old mage Warden at this fortress called Soldier's Peak who supposedly never had one and is working on it. I never met him and don't know how much hope there is, but it's something that is important to her. Which is more than can be said about most Grey Wardens, that I know of. They seem to accept it without question."
"Oh, I am going back to Ferelden if she'll take me," Carver said.
Anders and Caitlyn stared at him, surprised at the abruptness of that statement. "Er... you decided that just now?" she said.
"I decided it on the way to the clinic," he said defensively. "It's the logical thing to do. Amaranthine is closer, Ferelden still needs Wardens after what happened at Ostagar, I am Fereldan and I love my home country, and Lady Cousland already knows Anders."
She managed a smile. "I was hoping you would decide that! I'm glad you will be serving under her."
"She knows about your family too," Anders added.
"Oh, you told the entire group all about that, I suppose," Carver sniped. "Typical. You and my sister love it when your personal story is the center of attention."
"Carver!" Caitlyn exclaimed.
Anders gave her a shrug. "He has a point, you know."
She huffed, but Anders could tell that she was not seriously offended. He smiled, but that did not last long—because the next thing he had to discuss was the darkspawn conflict in Amaranthine. He had not been looking forward to this; in addition to being extremely unpleasant and disturbing, it had not been overly relevant to anything that was happening here in Kirkwall, but it was relevant now. Carver needed to know recent darkspawn-related history, especially since he had decided to report to Vigil's Keep.
He tried to avoid looking at their faces as he told them about the ancient and highly sapient Architect, his schemes for the darkspawn and the Wardens, the war he had instigated, and the fact that he had apparently begun the Fifth Blight by meddling with the buried Archdemon Urthemiel.
"It almost sounds as if he was one of the original darkspawn," Carver mused.
Anders scowled. "That's a story that the Chantry uses to justify abuse of mages," he said with a voice barely above a growl. He recalled for a moment that Justice was confident of his ability to counter the Taint because he was sure that it did indeed come from the Black City... but that doesn't mean that evil magisters actually stormed it, let alone that it was the Maker's seat, Anders thought.
"What if it's also real history? It sounds like it might be."
"I don't know where the Architect came from," Anders retorted, "or why he was so intelligent... but he's dead now. Even if he really was a magister once, and he got too close to the Black City, he is no more—and partly because of a mage. I was there. I fought him. So did Justice. You know," he said, unable to dismiss the spirit's belief about the Taint now that he had invoked its name, "I suppose I should welcome the theory that he really was a Magister Sidereal. It means I defeated one of them. I did. Wouldn't the Chantry love that?"
"Not by yourself, you didn't," Carver said belligerently.
"All right," Caitlyn finally interposed, giving hard looks to both of them, "that's enough of this. Even if this Architect was exactly what you think he was, Carver—and that could have been so, Anders—it doesn't justify what is done to mages. Let's move on. I... have a feeling I'm going to regret this... but Carver mentioned that his Warden dream had included some sort of tentacled creature. What... exactly... was he talking about, Anders?"
Anders took a deep breath. "Yes, you're going to regret that," he said bluntly, "but... it happened, and I shouldn't have kept it from you for so long. It's just... very traumatic." He gazed at her with wide eyes, all the belligerence and defensiveness gone from his face. "Of all the things that happened to me, that I saw before I came to Kirkwall, I think this one was the worst. Including what happened to your little sister."
Carver and Caitlyn suddenly looked very uneasy. As Anders launched into the horrible story of the Mother, and explained to them just what a broodmother was and where they came from, Caitlyn especially began to appear faint and queasy.
Anders noticed and quickly shot a blast of healing magic at her. She breathed heavily and stared at him, eyes wide and face drawn with horror. "That's... that's what you thought had... Maker, I can't even say it."
He drew close and enveloped her in his arms, though he was shaking faintly himself just from thinking of this. The memories of this fear were not that far in the past and he had now stirred them up again. "Yes," he whispered to her, closing his eyes as he held her close, completely unconcerned that Carver was there. "After I saw that creature, that's what I thought had happened to you."
She muffled a sob against his shoulder and hugged him tightly. "Every time I think I finally understand how much you suffered in that time, you... surprise me. Maker's blood. I feared that you were Tranquil for a time, until Leliana's contacts in the Mages' Collective found otherwise, but after that, my worst fear was that you had died." She drew a shuddering breath and squeezed him, then released him, though she remained very close.
Carver looked very uncomfortable at this moment of comfort and affection between them. He cleared his throat awkwardly and rose to his feet. "Well," he said, his voice atypically fragile, "as horrible as that is, knowing about this, that that's what I saw in that dream, still makes me want to find every broodmother and put them out of their misery. The darkspawn are the most evil force in the world." His jaw was set. "It should be possible to wipe out every last one of them. If there are no more darkspawn, nothing will tunnel for the remaining Archdemons. No more Blights."
Caitlyn and Anders managed dark smiles at that. "Theoretically, sure," Caitlyn said, "but that's a monumental task. You can't do it with just your blade, certainly. The tunnels would need to be sealed off and... gassed, or something. And there are still many that venture into the same Deep Roads that the dwarves, miners, and others use."
The look of steely resolve subsided, and he gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I suppose you're right, but what's wrong with having a grand ambition?"
His words struck home with both of them. "Nothing in the world," she said quietly.
"Nothing indeed," Anders agreed.
After he left to return to Lowtown, and Caitlyn and Anders piled into the small single bed for the night—both of them wondering how much longer they would be doing that—she found that she could not get the image of broodmothers out of her head. The idea of becoming a ghoul was hideous, but this was far worse. The thought of the filthy creatures pawing at a woman, force-feeding her Tainted flesh, and doing Maker knew what else, only to turn her into a mindless monster that produced an unceasing supply of darkspawn—she shuddered against Anders at the very idea. It was appalling that any woman in Thedas ever experienced such a horror. And for that "Architect" to imagine that the right thing to do was to make one self-aware is even worse, she thought indignantly. He got what he deserved.
"Did you actually strike the death blow against the Architect?" she asked him. "Or the... Mother?" She did not want to use the name; it seemed wrong, a vile corruption of a beautiful word.
"Well, your brother was correct that nobody killed either of them alone. I was there, and Justice—this was when he was in the dead Warden's body still, of course—and Nathaniel Howe. Cousland landed the final blow against the Mother... but yes, I struck the death blow against the Architect."
She ran her hands up his back, pressing her face against his chest and inhaling his scent. It was very comforting. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered. "And... I'm glad that Carver will be among these people."
"So am I." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep, love. Try not to think about—that. Think of us, of Mal, of that glittering treasure, of anything good."
That was good advice, she thought, closing her eyes. And if it came to it, if the Fade showed her a horror, she could try to force it to take on a different appearance. As her magic became stronger with age and experience, she found that she was better able to influence the Fade when she was not excessively tired or upset. What she really wanted, though, was to deliberately enter the Fade with him each night. She did not trust anything that assumed his appearance, so she would want to know for certain. The protection of a spirit of Justice would be very reassuring.
But they did not have a means for doing that, so she would have to trust to her own will. "I'll try," she said. "You do the same."
To their surprise, both of them slept well.
The next several days were hectic for the extended Hawke family. Leandra and Caitlyn had to go through the treasure hoard for unique or just appealing items that they wanted to keep, sell the ones they did not, deposit the liquid assets into the family account, and purchase the manor. It was at this point that Caitlyn had the displeasure of finally meeting the hostile Templar, Ser Mettin, who was embedded in the Viscount's office. It appeared that after the last owners of the house—the slaver gang—had "disappeared," the deed was held in trust by the city, and this Templar had taken it upon himself to handle such matters. Caitlyn had had the sense not to carry a staff on her back into the Keep, but she still left this up to her mother to handle. To her surprise, Leandra knew exactly what she was doing in this matter. It must have been her noble upbringing, Caitlyn thought.
"Yes, my late husband was a mage," she said coolly to Mettin after an aggressive question that heavily implied that he still intended to keep the property from them. "That, however, has no bearing on my right to purchase this property—property that was rightfully mine in the first place, I should add. You exceed your authority, Ser Templar."
Mettin glared back. "The authority of the Templar Order extends to mage sympathizers."
"That is simply not true," she replied. "Where is Viscount Dumar? I demand to speak to him."
"The Viscount has a waiting list, and you will have to get in line," he retorted. "As for this transaction—I see you have brought one of your children with you. Even if you are not a mage, they all have mage blood in them. This is the one who has a child of her own, isn't it? If the rumors are true, with that Grey Warden mage that the dog lords sent into our city to interfere with our affairs."
"Ferelden didn't send him here. The Grey Wardens do not act on behalf of any crown or sovereign state," Caitlyn interjected. "Warden Anders is my child's father, yes, but he has nothing to do with our business here, and he is doing nothing wrong by being in Kirkwall. He's helping the Blight refugees—which nobody else in this city wanted to do! You should be grateful for him. Now, back off and hand over the property deed to my mother. You have no right to keep it from her, and the Viscount could not possibly approve of what you're doing if he knew."
"What's that? Are you being overzealous with guests again, Mettin?" Viscount Dumar himself rounded the corner, and Caitlyn had the satisfaction of watching Mettin's face drain with fear. The Viscount entered the front office. He studied Caitlyn and Leandra for a moment before nodding in recognition. "Hawke. You were the mercenary who rescued my son. I thank you again—and my lady, it is good to see you in Kirkwall after so many years."
Mettin was completely dashed. Caitlyn decided to seize the opportunity. "Thank you, Your Grace," she replied. "We are here today to complete the purchase of my mother's family estate, in fact—though I should add that she inherited the manor and title anyway, and my uncle, Gamlen Amell, kept that fact from her. We sent a petition a while back, but I am not sure if you are aware of this; perhaps your Templar secretary kept it from you." She chose her words deliberately, certain that calling Mettin a secretary would get a rise from him, and as she observed his reaction out of the corner of one eye, she saw to her pleasure that it did indeed. He turned pink and glowered at her.
"Did she? No, I heard nothing of it," Dumar said. He turned to Mettin with a frown.
"Your Grace," Mettin interjected feebly, "surely you don't believe these insinuations? I'm sure I have no idea what this woman is speaking of."
"Mettin, begone. This matter does not concern you. We shall confer later." As Mettin left the room, a look of loathing on his face, the Viscount turned back to the Hawkes. "Unfortunately it is a complicated legal matter. The many debts and expenses of Gamlen Amell were legally valid, even if his inheritance of the fortune was not. Furthermore, he sold the house to a trade consortium..."
"Is that what they claimed they were? They were really a slaver gang," Caitlyn replied.
"Oh, dear," said the Viscount, rubbing his head. "Well. We didn't have any records that they were a criminal organization, or else the sale would have been invalid. They disappeared a few months ago..." He paused as something suddenly occurred to him, then glanced somewhat askance—but also approvingly—at her. He cleared his throat and continued to speak. "The deed reverted to the state of Kirkwall after they failed to pay taxes and were found to have, ah, vacated the property. If I declared your uncle's ownership of it invalid after he helped himself to the fortune and disposed of the deed to pay off debts, it would render your uncle legally a thief, subject to punishment."
"Oh, I can't do that to him," Leandra said at once. "We have had our differences, to be sure, but I don't want him imprisoned!"
"And that's why we are here," Caitlyn said in a tone of forced patience, "to buy it. That Templar was trying to prevent my mother from doing even that."
"Oh," Dumar said. "Well, that makes things very simple. Hmm... the property is valued at a certain amount, but since Kirkwall did not purchase it, I'm not obligated to sell it for its appraised value. You did save my son, Serah Hawke, and I understand that your family has been ill-done-by. Let's say a reduced price?"
"We can say that."
Both mother and daughter were pleased indeed to walk out of the Viscount's Keep with the deed in hand and the greater part of the newfound fortune intact.
Meanwhile, Carver and Anders were busy making arrangements of their own. Carver was reading every bit of Grey Warden lore he could get his hands on, preparing for his new life. Anders wrote his report about the Deep Roads expedition for Elissa Cousland, also mentioning Carver—who would deliver the letter when he arrived at Vigil's Keep—and the Blight refugee who had served her family. He hoped that Gawain and Idonia had made it back to Ferelden safely and sought refuge. Someday, he vowed, mages will be able to live safely in Kirkwall, this I swear... but since we can't yet, I hope that family made it to a safe situation.
In the midst of all this, Mal finally understood that his uncle was leaving Kirkwall. This made him very unhappy.
"But we left Ferelden because of the darkspawn!" he exclaimed in fear once he recognized this fact.
"The Blight is over," Caitlyn assured him. "Your uncle should be fine."
Mal hung his head and wiped tears away. "I wish we could all stay together. We found Father but then moved away from Grandma. Now Uncle Carver is leaving too."
"We're moving back in with Grandma, in the nice house I told you about... and your uncle is going to be just across the Waking Sea."
"In Gwaren?" Mal said doubtfully, remembering that they had been seasick and miserable on that long, unpleasant, storm-tossed trip.
"In Amaranthine," she said. She got up, rummaged through a crate of books, and pulled out an atlas, showing him a map. "See—here is Kirkwall, and here is Amaranthine, and here is Highever. We might just jump on a ship and visit your uncle sometimes!"
Anders chuckled darkly; he wouldn't be doing any such thing. Lady Cousland might have shown him mercy, but he doubted she would ignore direct defiance of an exile order even if she did have sympathy for the circumstances attending the act that had necessitated it. And besides, Justice likely would not allow him to defy it without putting up a fight. There was no reason why the others could not go, however, and he was quite confident that the Warden-Commander would allow Carver occasional leave too. She had a sibling herself. She understood about family bonds much better than the Wardens who joined because they had no ties, no options, and nothing left anymore.
Carver bought passage to Ferelden as soon as the family moved into the grand house, choosing the Highever port to limit a maritime journey in winter. Caitlyn felt a pang as she walked through the richly furnished rooms, which she and her mother were rapidly making their own. Carver's ship would leave in two days. He would not get to enjoy this except for visits. He had worked hard too, shed his blood, made sacrifices, and he would not get to live here after all. It seemed terribly unfair to her... but then, she supposed that she was looking at it the wrong way. He had not wanted to live at home anymore. He had wanted to strike out on his own, make his own way, and now he would have that opportunity. He was enthusiastic about his new profession, too, which made perfect sense to her. He had taken Bethany's death hard.
Anders, at least, was pleased. He moved most of his personal effects out of the clinic, converting the two little nooks into storage for healing supplies, and noted with pleasure just how close the trapdoor was to the basement entrance of the Amell manor—the Hawke estate, he corrected himself in thought. Although they were going to keep that trapdoor locked for safety's sake, Caitlyn had given him a key to it so that he could let himself in and out as needed. The location really was perfect.
After moving in, the family did not want to exert themselves much that evening. Leandra intended to give a dinner the following night, Carver's last night in Kirkwall, and the siblings expected to invite their friends, but tonight was just for them. They gathered in the sitting room and sat down. All of a sudden, the air seemed very heavy to the two siblings. Perhaps it was the presence of the urn and the leather purse of ashes—Leandra had never moved Bethany's to another container, deeming it most appropriate for them to stay in the one Anders had brought—and the two gaping absences in the family that these items invoked.
Bethany, at least, should have been here, Caitlyn thought unhappily. Really here, herself, not like that. She sighed heavily. Grief became less acute with time, but it never went away. The pain of loss never disappeared, and so it would be for the many losses they had all suffered.
Carver was affected as well, but it made him restless. He could not stay in a seat and kept getting up to stare out the windows. At last he turned around and faced his family.
"I'm sorry to leave everyone," he said, "but... I couldn't have stayed here anyway." He balled his fists. "This house is too much for me."
"Oh, Carver," Leandra protested, "I know it is rich and grand, but you would get used to it."
"That's not what I meant," he said. He glowered at the floor, but it was only in frustration with himself. "I couldn't be happy here. Not anymore." He gazed at the containers of ashes. "It isn't worth it, Mother, and you know that."
Leandra was stricken. "Carver!" she exclaimed. "I never said—of course it isn't worth the loss of poor Bethany—but it wouldn't have honored her to turn it down or accept squalor, either."
Carver shook his head, even more frustrated with himself that he wasn't making his point clear. "I... understand... but to me, this house is associated with her death. Nothing you can say will change that, Mother." He breathed heavily and gazed at Anders, who was holding his sleeping son in his lap. "I'm glad you did what you did for her, Anders, but because it was you—well, I have unfinished business in Ferelden now. I might have been able to save her if I'd been closer to the ogre. At a minimum, I could have tried to bring her body here. I didn't do either. I couldn't be content here." He turned to Caitlyn, who was staring at him in shock. "I'm sorry, sis. I blamed you for it for a long time, because you wanted us to stay—but I understand now why you did. He's family too, has been ever since you two got together in 9:27 whether a priest has said it or not, and you didn't want to leave anyone behind. And ultimately, it's the darkspawn's fault. I'm going back to Ferelden to make them pay, in Ferelden."
"Carver," she said softly, astounded by this, "if you feel that you have to get this off your chest before you go, I understand, but I don't hold it against you for ever blaming me. I felt that way myself. I still do."
"So do I," Anders said quietly. "It might have been different if I'd been there... and I don't know if I ever told you this, but I waited before escaping. I was let out of solitary confinement and I waited a week—a week that could have made the difference. We all failed her."
A sob escaped Leandra at this.
"I don't think you ever mentioned that," Caitlyn said. She gazed at him unhappily. "You said that you apparently got there just a few days after we had left, but you never mentioned..."
"It's true," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "I waited because I thought the Templars would be expecting me to make an immediate escape, and I needed to plan it well so that they wouldn't be likely to follow me... but if I'd left at once, and made it out, I would have been there with you." He looked up, staring into her eyes. "I'm sorry, love."
She got up and sat down next to him to give him a hug. When she had first met him again in Kirkwall, a confession like this would have only fueled her rage against him, but it was different now. "You don't know that you would have made it out," she said, breaking the embrace but remaining very close to him, touching Mal's hair gently so as to not wake him. "You might not have. You'll never know. And you'll also never know if you really could have saved her by being there. We were overwhelmed at the last, and Flemeth was the one to save us. She let Bethany die. She might have let you die too if you'd been there. None of us will ever know." She sighed deeply. "We all did our best. I didn't want to leave until I'd heard something... and you didn't want to leave until you had a plan. We'll never know for certain if these decisions we each agonize over would have changed anyone's fate. Ultimately... Carver is right. She died because of the Blight... and Father died, and you and I were separated, because of Circle policies. We shouldn't attach all the blame to ourselves... and I include myself in that," she said sadly.
Carver spoke up again. "I still couldn't stay here," he said. "Anders—you were able to give her a decent pyre and bring her ashes to us. Cait, you and Anders say you're going to try to make things better for... mages. Whether you're blaming yourselves for what happened or not, you are doing things that give you peace and satisfaction about it all. I've done nothing except fight in the Deep Roads for the gold that bought this house. I've got to do something, and not even just because of Bethany. I fought at Ostagar and crawled away in the mud while the darkspawn overran the field. None of the rest of you know what that was like. I was a soldier of Ferelden and I left in the middle of a Blight, even when the Grey Wardens themselves came through town. I have to go back," he said again. "I have to. I hope this can be home to the rest of you—I really do—but it can't be for me."
"I... understand," Leandra finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Caitlyn nodded. "I... have not felt like I had a home in a long time," she said. "We didn't have a house of our own here in Kirkwall. Anders' clinic might have become so if we hadn't bought the house... but I do intend to make this home now. For me, it's the opposite. There are too many sad memories in Ferelden now, and it couldn't be home again for me."
Anders sighed. "And I can't go back. Lady Cousland is merciful, but she's also just."
"There you have it, then," Caitlyn said. She gazed at her brother. "You have to do what's best for you, in the end."
"As do we all," Carver said.
Notes: I meant to have a NSFW scene in this chapter, but that got pushed to the following one.
I agonized over whether to send Carver back to Ferelden or to stay with canon and send him off with Stroud. Here, Carver is more mature and isn't going to cut off his entire remaining family out of petty spite (which is what I think Warden Carver does in canon), so I thought that might incline him to stay on the same side of the Waking Sea... but on the other hand, Stroud's group is not actually based in Kirkwall, whereas Amaranthine is just a boat ride away. And since Anders' association with the Fereldan Wardens wasn't severed in this AU, that would also give Carver a leg up—and he'd probably get more chances to visit his family due to Warden-Commander Cousland's familiarity with Anders and the past he already had with the Hawke family when he first joined the Wardens. There is the issue of Corypheus—and I do not intend to do anything that would prevent DAI from happening (so if you're anticipating that the sequel will end with a mage conflict entirely averted, uh, don't count on that)—but the corrupted Carta dwarves could come after him in Ferelden too, and they could also bother Caitlyn here in Kirkwall. In retrospect, the choice for Carver was obvious.
