By the time the Grey Wardens passed through Kirkwall again, a few weeks had elapsed since the end of what was now being called the Battle of Kirkwall. It was over surprisingly quickly and decisively: the qunari retreated to Par Vollen, and Vivian Hawke was named the Champion of Kirkwall after defeating the Arishok in single combat.

Of course she was. Carver wouldn't have been surprised to learn that his sister had also been made the new viscountess and that they were going to change the city's name to Hawkewall. What did surprise him, though, was that he didn't feel the need to do much else besides roll his eyes at the news of his sister's accomplishments. His bitter one-sided rivalry with his older sister seemed less important in the wake of some of the shit he had seen.

Their mission to the eastern Planasene had gone as expected: broodmothers slain, no survivors. It was Carver's first time seeing one broodmother, let alone half a dozen of them, but the worst part was finding the women that were only halfway through the transformation process. Some were too far gone to even beg for death, and Carver wasn't entirely sure which had been worse to handle: those with enough sanity left to plead to be put out of their misery, or the feral ones who attacked them with still very human faces.

"I am troubled by how close their nest was to the surface," Stroud said as they watched the awful statues flanking Kirkwall's harbor come into view. "This much surface activity in general is unusual."

"Gives us something to do, I suppose," Carver said casually if not dismissively. Putting on a show of insouciance helped him avoid thinking about it too much. The grim scene would show up plenty in his nightmares, and he didn't want to think about it in his waking hours.

Their plan was to disembark in Kirkwall and catch another ship heading east, but the next ship to Ostwick wasn't leaving for another two days. Figured. Carver wasn't surprised that fate conspired to keep him in this shit city for as long as possible—which was an overdramatic way to look at a two-day delay, even for him—but he was surprised to get a visit from the Champion of Kirkwall herself.

"Don't you have worshipers you should be receiving or something?" Carver asked. He didn't turn around from where he stood on the docks, watching the harbor and pretending it was a nice view.

"Nah. Worshipping hours ended at noon," Vivian said.

Carver rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the little snort of reluctant amusement that she tore out of him.

"How did you know I was back in the city?" he asked.

"Oh, you know—"

"Varric?" he asked, cutting her off before she could either make a bad joke or begin a meandering story.

She visibly deflated a bit. "Yeah."

He just grunted in response. They were quiet for a few minutes, which set him on edge. As infuriating as it was when she ran her mouth, he'd learned a long time ago to be suspicious when Vivian was quiet for too long. When he gave her a sidelong glance, though, she was frowning as if struggling to say something. Unheard of.

"Anyway, you got a letter, and I had business in the area so I figured I would hand deliver it. I thought you might be too busy saving the world to come by the estate," she finally said.

"Who would write to me and send it to you?" he asked in confusion.

Vivian shrugged. "No one, but—and I'm not sure if you know this—Kirkwall has been kind of a clusterfuck for the last few weeks. A bunch of mail was taken to the Viscount's Keep so ne'er-do-wells didn't end up with it."

"So how'd you get it?" he mostly muttered to himself.

She heard him anyway and laughed, a sharp bright peal that cut through the air. "Anyway, Aveline spotted it by chance and heard your lot was passing through. Do you want it or not?"

Carver held out his hand silently for the letter. The seal was unbroken, which was also unexpected from his sister. Vivian always snooped through his correspondence. He raised his eyebrows in surprise to see a Grey Warden seal. That piqued his curiosity enough to open the letter right there instead of waiting until Vivian was gone.

Carver,

I wanted to tell you that you were right: sending you away was bullshit, and it was a mistake. I was scared of the things I had done, and I acted rashly. I was not raised to view my feelings as anything but dangerous and irresponsible, a distraction at best and an open door for malicious spirits at worst. It's not an excuse, but maybe it's an explanation. I love you as much as I did the day I sent you away, and I should have kept you. Please stay safe until I can repeat all of this in person.

Yours,

Adara

Carver tried to keep his face blank, but he wasn't very good at that. It was one of many reasons why he was terrible at card games. He couldn't quite keep the half-smile off his face or the color out of his cheeks. Maker, he hadn't expected to hear from Adara again at all. His ego was incredibly pleased by the back-to-back victories of being told he was right about something and that the woman he still cared for was definitely pining for him. Oh, she was absolutely pining.

"Ooh, is it a love letter? I knew I should have read it first," Vivian teased.

That sobered him right away. Carver would drown himself in the harbor before he would let Vivian drag him into a conversation about any of this, so he folded the letter away for later. "Thanks." He wanted to distract her before she got even nosier, so he quickly said: "Heard you fought the Arishok in a duel for the fate of the city. Did Varric make that up?"

"No. I mean, not entirely," Viv said. "The stories he's telling are a lot prettier than what really happened, but that is more or less the sum of it. The Arishok decided I was an honorable opponent." Carver snorted at that. "He probably changed his mind after chasing me in circles for ten minutes, but qunari don't go back on their word. Anyway, the whole thing is a long story, and I know you don't have the patience for those."

"Not for yours."

Viv cracked a smile at that.

"I guess you've got Champion stuff to get back to doing?" Carver asked as the siblings stood there awkwardly.

Vivian sighed, and he noticed again how tired she looked. "Something like that." She waved to someone behind them, and Carver turned enough to see Aveline approaching. "We just finished clearing out some smugglers, and I guess the Knight-Commander will want to hear about it."

"I would've assumed that breaking up dockside smuggling rings was beneath you these days."

"You'd think, huh? Sometimes I think the only difference between Champion shit and the kind of jobs you and I used to do in Lowtown is the pay," Vivian said wryly. "Knight-Commander Meredith herself asked us to check this out. The qunari left in a hurry, and they left a lot behind. Most importantly a shit ton of blackpowder. We're trying to keep it all from getting smuggled out of Kirkwall, but it's like catching water in a sieve."

"Blackpowder, really? Never would've thought the qunari would leave that behind." Not after all the whole to-do that was made out of that dwarf trying to buy their formula for the stuff.

"You'd be surprised what can slip your mind when you're running for your life," Vivian said. "Actually, no, I guess we know all about that, huh?"

She nudged him with her elbow, and he chuckled. "Yeah, guess so." Carver realized, much to his chagrin, that he had actually missed his older sister. Just a little bit.

Vivian ran a hand through her hair. "I ought to get going. Meredith's going to be pissed. A whole ass shipload of blackpowder left for Ferelden yesterday, so this whole thing was pointless. Maker, she's even more of a bitch when she's pissed off."

"Ferelden? Why?"

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "How should I know? That's part of the point of smuggling, isn't it? To be secretive about the whole thing?"

He scowled at her. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Viv."

Then don't be stupid, he waited for her to say. He could have been knocked into the harbor with a feather when she instead gave him a rueful look and said: "Sorry."

"I might have found the answer to that question, actually," Aveline said as she came into earshot. "Hello, Carver. It's good to see you again."

He grunted a greeting at her. He still hadn't entirely forgiven Aveline for sabotaging his chances with the city guard, even if things had worked out alright for him in the end.

"My men have finished searching the warehouse. All of the blackpowder is gone, of course, but they found a note," Aveline continued.

Vivian sighed. "You can fill me in on the way to Meredith." To Carver she said: "Safe travels, brother. You know, it wouldn't kill you to send me a letter now and then. Just so I know you're still alive."

"I don't have Uncle to write my letters for me," he couldn't help but snap at her. It still stung to receive the news of Mother's death from Gamlen.

Vivian looked so stricken that he almost regretted it, and Aveline glowered at him. "I know. I'm sorry," Vivian said quietly. "I should have been the one to tell you, but…" She started to tear up before closing her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and letting it out slowly.

"I shouldn't have brought it up," Carver said quickly. It was alarming to see Viv acting like… well, like a normal person with feelings instead of a performer commanding an audience.

"Just let me know you're okay from time to time. Please. We're the only ones left," Viv said.

The last two Hawkes. It was a disquieting realization. Carver could only nod his agreement.

Vivian gave him a farewell wave, and Carver turned back to the harbor. He dragged a hand down his face, disturbed by the changes he had seen in his sister. He ought to be relieved that she had toned down her crazy by a few shades, but instead he worried that Kirkwall was crushing her alive.

He could hear Viv and Aveline talking as they walked away, their voices carried to him by the wind: "…who the fuck are the Faithful?" Viv asked.

Carver was pretty sure that his heart stopped for a moment. Once it started beating again, it sank down into his stomach. He turned around and caught up to his sister in a few large strides: "What did you say?" he asked sharply.

Viv was holding a note that Aveline must have given her, and Carver snatched it out of her hand. It was a brief letter from one smuggler to another: Deal is done. No problems. Buyer very insistent that I pass along: "The Faithful will remember your service." Creepy. Can we please sell to some good honest criminals next time instead of religious kooks?

Carver swore, and Vivian raised her eyebrows. "The name rings a bell, I'm guessing?"

"They've been trying to kill the Warden-Commander of Ferelden for a while now. Thought we'd dealt with them," he said almost numbly. Astrid made it seem like they were planning something big, Adara had said. Fuck. "This is Grey Warden business now. I'm keeping this," he said, holding up the letter. Maybe it would be enough to convince Stroud to change their plans.

If it wasn't… Carver was going to Ferelden anyway.

Aveline began to protest, but Vivian held up a hand to silence her. She regarded her brother evenly, likely taking in the drawn expression of actual fear on his face. "Meredith will get over it. Sounds like the Grey Wardens are a step ahead of us with this," she said to Aveline.

There was no time to waste, and Carver left at nearly a sprint to find Stroud. "Good luck," Viv called after him. "Hope you can stop everything from exploding."