Chapter Text
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
Chapter 1
Hawke's second trip aboard ship was far more pleasant that her first, no doubt because she shared a comfortable cabin with Fenris and the twins instead of being packed below decks with hundreds of other refugees escaping the Blight. Once they had arrived in Kirkwall, she had erased that first trip from her mind. The conditions had been bad enough, but worse still had been her shared grief with her mother and sister over Carver's death at the hands of that ogre. Since that day, every ogre she had ever killed had been for Carver, and she never tired of killing the blighted creatures. She wondered if Carver was still in the Fade, or if he had finally found his peace and moved on.
The twins had taken to traveling better than she had hoped, and yet there were still challenges – especially with Melody, who like to climb on the ship's railings and peer down at the water rushing below. It was Varric who had finally found a way to keep her from her constant climbing, with a story about a little girl who fell into the sea and turned into a fish. At first Hawke had thought he'd done more harm than good from the way Melody's eyes lit up at the thought of being a fish, but when the story ended with the little girl watching from afar as her family grieved her loss, Melody's dark eyes filled with tears. The rest of that day she never let go of Farrell's hand, much to her brother's consternation.
Today they would dock in Denerim, a city she had not seen for many a long year. Hawke stood with Fenris and the twins on deck, watching as the outline of the shore transformed from a hazy blur to the stark outline of a rocky coast and the tall tower of Fort Drakon. Melody was perched atop her father's shoulders, her arms spread wide.
"Flyin, Papa!" she sang. "Flyin, flyin, flyin!"
For once Farrell did not correct his sister, but instead tugged at Hawke's hand from where he stood next to her, ever the little gentleman. She knelt down to put herself at eye level and asked, "What is it Farrell?"
"Is your Papa here?" he asked her, his serious eyes a mirror of his father's.
She felt tears sting her own eyes as she told him, "No Farrell. My Papa died long ago and he is with the Maker now." Hawke dropped a kiss on his forehead. 'Why do you ask?"
"He told me he was Ferelden," said Farrell, and although he pronounced the last word very slowly and carefully Hawke was again amazed at her son's skill with language at such a young age.
"When did he tell you this?" asked Hawke, confused but also curious.
"While I was sleeping, Mama," replied Farrell. "I like your Papa," he added shyly.
It had been a very long time since Hawke had dreamt of her father, Malcolm Hawke. She'd thought he'd left the Fade with Mother many years ago. Although she was no mage, she'd always had an odd affinity to the Fade, and wondered now if her son did, too. Otherwise how could he remember his dream and express it so well?
Hawke ran a hand over Farrell's mop of blond hair in a soothing caress. "Dreams aren't the same as real life, Farrell," she said.
Farrell nodded sagely. "When I'm sleeping the bunnies have purple wings and they fly."
Hawke laughed and asked him, "Did you see the tiny dragons?"
Farrell's eyes grew wide as he shook his head.
"Maybe next time," she told him with a smile. "Did my Papa say anything else in your dreams?"
Farrell nodded slowly. "He said you were Magic Mari." He placed his small hand on her cheek. "Are you magic, Mama?" he asked.
Tears stung her eyes again as she pulled him into a hug. "Only in how much I love you, my darling," she said.
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
After all this time, Denerim seemed even more crowded, if that were possible. She supposed it had something to do with King Alistair restoring some order to the country. Many Fereldens who'd left during the Blight were slowly but surely returning home as war erupted all over Thedas and Denerim was now more than ever a bustling, prosperous city. Hawke did notice the preponderance of soldiers roaming the streets, however, and she wondered if the King was also preparing for war.
They'd taken lodgings in a small but comfortable little house not far from the Arl of Redcliffe's Estate and the City Market. It had been three years since she'd actually lived in a city and she was having some difficulty adjusting to the constant noise and activity. Fenris, however, seemed completely at his ease as long as they stayed away from the fishmonger.
"Doesn't this bother you?" she asked as they made their way through the throng of people shopping in the City Market. Varric had stayed behind with the twins as they napped.
"You have not been to Minrathous," he said.
"That much worse, is it?" she asked.
"The slave market alone is said to be miles long," he replied.
Hawke shivered. That's not something she wanted to dwell upon on this beautiful, late summer afternoon. She drew his attention to the stands of fruits and vegetables. They needed to stock up the larders of the house.
Fenris was back to wearing his black cloak, the hood drawn up in an attempt to be less conspicuous, but Hawke noticed they were attracting some attention anyway. Even if it weren't for his markings, they would stand out as a mixed couple – elf and human pairings were looked down upon in nearly all places in Thedas, and though she didn't care a fig about what other people thought, but she did care that they not draw too much attention to themselves - there were still the Chantry Seekers to think about.
Fenris moved around the stall to inspect the apples and Hawke was picking through the peaches when she heard a voice call her name.
"Mari?"
Hawke froze. That voice, she knew it. A wash of memory hit her and suddenly she could smell bonfires burning, and hear music and laughter… and in her mind's eye she saw a pair of stormy grey eyes.
Slowly she turned and saw those eyes looking at her in astonishment.
"Mari!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy, and suddenly she was in his arms, her feet lifted from the ground as he swung her around in a circle before pulling her close to him. "Mari, Mari," he repeated, his voice choked with strong emotion. "I thought you were lost in the Blight."
For a moment all the years between them were erased, and to be in his arms again was truly like coming home. Ren. Her first love. The man she had planned to wed, whose face and scent and embrace brought back everything wonderful from her childhood in Lothering.
"Ren." She barely had time to speak his name before another voice spoke from behind her. A very growly voice.
"Hawke?"
She could feel her cheeks burning as she began to pull away from Ren, who was resisting her efforts quite emphatically. Hawke tried to turn to Fenris but before she could do so Ren was suddenly frowning and saying, "Is this elf bothering you?"
Uh oh. This wasn't going well.
And then Fenris said, "Remove your hands from my wife," in a rather threatening manner.
Ren looked down at her sharply. "Wife?" he asked.
"Just stop!" Hawke said fiercely, and finally succeeded in removing herself from Ren's tight grip on her person. She stood between the two men and said, in what she hoped was in a calm and reasonable tone, "Ren, meet my husband, Fenris. Fenris, this is Ren, an old friend from my childhood."
The two simply stared at each other in a not so friendly manner. She moved over to Fenris and looped her arm through his in an attempt to normalize the situation, before saying, "It's good to see you, Ren. How have you been?"
Ren's gaze shifted to her and he said, "We were much more than friends, Mari. You were to be my wife."
Hawke felt Fenris stiffen beside her.
"That was a long time ago," she said to him. "I'm sure you have a wife of your own and a passel of children by now."
Ren looked at her intently. "No," he said. "I have never married."
Fenris said, "We must return home before the twins awake," ignoring Ren completely.
"Home?" Ren asked, and then added, "You're living in Denerim now?"
Hawke was just as glad Ren seemed to have missed the part about twins. A public display in the Market was not a good idea. Hawke glanced at Fenris, who still had not removed his gaze from the other man. "Fenris," she said to get his attention.
He looked down at her, yet his expression remained provoked.
"Perhaps we can invite Ren to dine with us this evening," she said, and her voice was calm but her eyes were speaking to him in their own language. Her eyes told him to trust her, they ask him to indulge her, they promised there was no reason for him to be upset or angry.
His own expression cleared and he returned his gaze to the other man. "Will you join us?" he asked.
Ren's eyebrows shot up beneath the lock of dark hair that fell over his brow.
Hawke told him where they were staying and repeated Fenris' invitation. "Will you come?" she asked.
He briefly inclined his head. "I will," was his only answer before he turned and walked away.
"Thank you," Hawke told Fenris on a breath.
"Yes," he said. "And perhaps before our guest arrives this evening, we might have a little chat."
She smiled at him, despite the butterflies playing in her stomach. "Of course," she said.
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
Really, she had never imagined Varric as a nanny, but he was exceptionally good with the children. Melody adored him and Farrell was absolutely fascinated with Bianca. So it was that Hawke and Fenris found a few quiet moments later that afternoon as the children were entertained by their dwarven "uncle" while they chopped the vegetables in preparation for their evening meal.
"I find it interesting that no mention of this former fiancé has been made in all the years we have been together," he said without preamble.
Hawke bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling at his candor and set down her knife next to the pile of carrots she'd been chopping. She turned to him. "Would you like to know why?" she asked.
"Yes, I would," he replied with a hint of impatience.
"Because it was over long before I met you," she said simply.
"And you did not marry this man, because…" he prodded.
She took his hand and led him to the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. Once seated, she did not release him. "When my father died, Fenris, everything changed for me. The life I had planned with Ren felt childish, meaningless."
"So you ended it," he said gruffly.
"I did," she replied with a nod. "To be honest, it was as if someone had turned off a switch inside me and everything I'd been feeling for him simply… vanished."
"My impression is he did not feel the same," remarked Fenris. "I believe he harbors feelings for you still." He looked down at their joined hands. "I did not want to invite him here," he admitted.
"Ren was a fine young man, Fenris," she said with a sigh. "If what you say is true, I want him to see me happy, meet Melody and Farrell."
"What will that accomplish?" Fenris asked as he raised his eyes to hers once more.
"Unless he's changed very much, he'll be glad for me," she explained. What she needed to say next was necessary, but she did not like it. "You know how other elves and humans feel about us, Fenris. This was the third house we enquired about and you know why the first two turned us down."
His grip on her hand tightened. "You think his bigotry causes him concern for you?"
Hawke shrugged. "We shall see when he arrives tonight."
"I will ensure no harm comes to my family, Hawke," Fenris said rather fiercely.
"I know," she said and leaned in to kiss him. "So will I."
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
Fenris watched as Hawke greeted their guest, Melody in the crook of his arm, Farrell holding tightly to his hand. When the man placed a kiss on his wife's cheek, he felt the lyrium under his flesh burn, though he was careful to control that it did not glow.
Hawke turned to them and said, "Ren, these are our children, Melody and Farrell."
Fenris nearly smirked as Melody buried her face against his neck. Usually very outgoing, apparently his daughter liked this man no more than he did.
Ren walked over to them and focused his attention on Farrell, who was staring up at him with a very broody little expression. This time Fenris had to swallow the laughter that arose in his throat. Like father like son, he thought.
"Hello Farrell," Ren said, his tone cautious but friendly.
"Hello," Farrell replied in his clear little voice. "You should not kiss Mama," he added.
Fenris wasn't sure if Ren was startled by Farrell's command of language or by what he'd said.
"What?" asked Ren in surprise.
"Papa doesn't like it," explained Farrell.
Was it wrong that he was proud of his son? Fenris thought not. But his thoughts were of Hawke as he said in a bored drawl, "Ren is your mother's friend, Farrell. He was simply being friendly."
Farrell did not reply and he could see Hawke was struggling for something to say to ease the tense situation when Varric came bustling into the room.
With his usual lack of tact he said, "So, this is the old boyfriend." He eyed Ren speculatively for a moment before he stuck out his hand, "Varric Tethras at your service."
Ren took the offered hand. "Ren Bedell," he returned. It seemed the man's face would wear a perpetual look of surprise and consternation for the entire evening.
Fenris nearly chuckled at Varric's words. Really, he had not thought this visit would be quite so entertaining, but between the children and the dwarf, he was having trouble keeping his face schooled in a polite mask.
Hawke, her cheeks pink, said, "Dinner will be ready soon," and she ushered them all into the small sitting room. Melody still cling to him in a death-grip, but Farrell chose to sit next to his mother, sandwiching himself between her and their guest on the narrow sofa. He continued to stare up at Ren with a slight scowl on his face.
Once they were all seated, Varric wasted no time in ferreting information. "So Ren," he said, "What was our Hawke like as a little girl?"
"Why do you all call her Hawke when her name is Mari?" asked Ren.
"I'm right here," said Hawke. "No need to speak around me."
Varric chuckled. "Going to explain it to him, Hawke?" he asked.
Hawke glanced at Farrell beside her and then to Melody, who was now peering up at her mother rather cautiously. "I think that tale is best left for another time," she said meaningfully.
Fenris listened with interest as Varric prompted the man into talking about Hawke as a child in Lothering. Carver's name came up quite often, and even though her smile never faltered, he could see the lines of grief in his wife's face.
Satisfied that Ren was no threat to his family, it was Fenris who eventually took the children up to bed after dinner. He could not say his jealousy was entirely gone, but with the help of the twins and Varric, most of his good humor had been restored. As soon as they were in the children's room, Melody began singing and chattering in her usual way.
"Make him go 'way, Papa," she sang. "way, way, way!"
"Away," corrected Farrell, and then added "Will you, Papa?"
"When you wake up in the morning," Fenris told them, "He will no longer be here."
Melody planted a loud kiss on her father's cheek. "Love you, Papa," she said before sliding under the covers and closing her eyes tightly, as if in a hurry to get to sleep and make the man go away.
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ ~ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
"Why Mari?" asked Ren once they were alone. "Why would you choose tie yourself to…"
"Don't say it, Ren," Hawke warned. "It will end this conversation."
"I just don't understand," he said running a hand through his hair. "I don't understand why you left me, why you didn't come to Denerim when the Blight hit." He paused and took her hand. "I would have protected you and your family, Mari. You must know this."
"We barely made it out of Lothering alive, Ren," she told him. "We escaped to Kirkwall, where my mother had family."
"Kirkwall?" he said. "There was a lot of trouble there a few years ago…" he began and then a look of comprehension dawned on his face. "Hawke," he said, "that's why they call you Hawke… you're… you're the Champion of Kirkwall, aren't you?"
Hawke sighed. "Yes, but I would not wish that fact widely known."
"I can't believe that was you!" he exclaimed. "Is it true you blew up the Chantry and started the Mage Rebellion?"
Hawke shook her head. "No to the first and not exactly to the second," she replied.
"What…" he began.
"If you really want the story, invite Varric over for a drink sometime," she said. "I really don't want to talk about this, Ren."
"I see," he said stiffly. "Very well, then."
"And I must ask that you not speak of who I am," she continued. "It could endanger my family," she said.
"You really have changed, Mari," he said. "You're not the same girl I fell in love with, are you?"
Hawke laughed without humor. "Perhaps that girl died with her father," she said. "Or perhaps she died in the Blight as you always thought." She shook her head. "No, I have her memories, but through long struggle and much loss, I have come to be my true self, Ren. I have found my true love."
Ren cleared his throat, and changed the subject slightly. "You have beautiful children, Mari," he said. "Your daughter is the spitting image of you."
"I wish she hadn't been so shy," Hawke replied. "Melody is usually a delight."
"I don't like to admit it," he said shaking his head sadly, "but it's obvious how much he cares for you and your children."
"He has a name," she scolded.
"Yes, well," said Ren as he stood, "Please extend my thanks to Fenris for this evening."
Hawke stood as well and moved to the door, glad to have this day done. Before he left Ren kissed her again, this time briefly on her lips. "Goodbye, Mari," he said, and was gone.
Hawke ascended the stairs feeling emotionally exhausted. She really hoped Fenris was not in a talking mood because all she wanted to do at this point was put this long, stressful day behind her. It had been so long since she'd remembered the details of her years in Lothering, and to have them come flooding back to her in the visceral form of her first love, had elicited a return of the grief over everyone and everything she had lost since then. She longed for her sister, her only connection to that time. Perhaps tomorrow she would write a letter to Bethany, who she knew would understand just how difficult this reunion had been for her.
Hawke opened the door to their bedroom, and there was Fenris, lying on the bed dressed only his smalls, his arms folded beneath his head. She could not read the expression on his face, which made her nervous; rarely could she not read his mood. She saw desire in his eyes, but thought there was something else, as well.
"Fenris?" she questioned as she shut the door behind her. "What is it?"
With that grace that was so natural to him, he unfolded himself from the bed and came to stand before her. "I have been thinking," he said.
Her heart began to beat a rapid cadence in her chest. "Thinking?" she asked with some trepidation.
"Yes," he growled as his hands moved to the buttons on her blouse. "I've been thinking about how often it is that the most painful things in life lead us to what we cherish the most."
Hawke remembered her thoughts of just moments ago – thoughts of loss and pain and grief – and as she looked at her husband she suddenly understood his expression. They'd both suffered so much, lost so much, and yet they had each other, belonged to each other. It was gratitude that shone from his eyes along with the passion. Her heart lifted, and she said in a teasing tone, "Hmm, this cherishing thing, could you show me?"
"Gladly," he said as he continued to undress her.
And he did, long into the night.