the big gay. the really big gay. the big sad gay.
literally this is like a crash course (it's... abridged... no kids mentions.... not involving my revised thoughts on anders' calling.... lmao....) on post da2 headcanon for petra and alpha world state in general but esp petra and their companions and relationships it's hella long u have been warned and also predictably includes some Big Sad
also ft weird dwarf marriage so that's nice, but. buckle up.
well if you're asking about my hawkes after. well. i can tell you.
petra stays with everyone longer than the rest of them. petra has always been isolated, because of bethany mostly, keeping her safe. petra had never loved anyone like they loved bethany until they came to kirkwall, would do anything for her. bethany blaming them for the deep roads fucked them up? (i've retconned my actual game choice on this one bc in petra's save bethany went to the circle but i hate that so. yeah.)
bc petra blames themself too, hardcore. petra did everything, everything everything everything, their entire life, for bethany, to keep her safe. but then she's gone and she's going to die, someday, not today because of anders thank god for anders, but someday, too soon. before they die. grey warden life expectancy and all that. and they never stop beating themself up over it. they're not a very grim person, but they're a loyal one, and they don't let go. losing bethany hardens them a lot, but it also just sets that loyalty on fire.
so when it's all over, they hold on to everyone as hard as they can.
they lose aveline first, of course, because the rest of them have to get out, and aveline has to stay. and it kills them both a little bit because they're so important to each other, because aveline owes her life, and everything in it more or less, to petra in some way or another, and because petra has always been a strange little bit in love with aveline in the kind of way where they were just happy to be there for her, to be around her, and now they can't do that, and even though they have merrill and isabela and varric and everyone, it still hurts, and the hurt stings and lasts, largely because they know it's the beginning of the end. and they're going to lose the rest of them someday, too soon, one way or another.
fenris goes next. anders tries to be the first to leave, but petra won't let him. fenris can fend for himself, so when he slips away from camp without leaving a note to say where he's going, petra lets him, even though they see him go. they don't get up to tell him. they hope he knows they were watching anyway. and that they'll see each other again.
when the rest of them wake up, everyone sort of wanders around useless and aimless the rest of the day. merrill cries - she's scared for him, she says, and angry. he left to keep the rest of them safe, but that's stupid, she knows that's why he left, because he felt like somehow everyone was in less danger with him gone, and like they didn't need him, but how could he think that? anders doesn't want to show that his heart is echoing that sentiment. he snaps back at her, some sarcastic comment that doesn't have any real fire to back it up, something about wondering why she'd still want him around when he was so terrible to her.
she smiles back at him, tells him simply, the same reason she doesn't want him gone - it doesn't matter how your family hurts you sometimes, they're still your family. he doesn't know how to react. no one's ever wanted him to be their family before, and here's this girl he's been absolutely horrific to most of the time, telling him she cares? that she wants him there?
they're idiots, fenris and anders, of course. merrill straightens up and looks around, checks to see if fenris left anything. she smiles and tells the camp he brought his books with him. she'd been helping him learn to read.
despite it all, anders goes next. despite them all trying to protect him, keep him secret, keep him safe. despite merrill's proclaiming them all a family, despite petra begging him not to go, please, we need you, not you need us, they never say that, but anders feels that in their words, and that's why he doesn't stay. it's been months, on the road, never in one place long, cloaks with hoods that cover your face, fake names, no distinguishing features. they're whispers in the night and ghosts on the wind, untraceable.
anders plans his leave. he plans carefully. and if petra suspects, they don't say anything.
they decide to go back to ferelden. there's nowhere safe in the free marches, and most of them know the area. too well. too well.
anders procures a map, for old times sake he jokes, they head for the anderfels. it's spring. the snows won't be too deep.
they go into the foothills together. but anders doesn't come back down with them.
petra asks merrill to help them pray - they've never been andrastian, but merrill has gods of her own, maybe they can help. please, he knows this place, please don't let him get hurt, please don't let this be the last time i see him alive, please.
bethany, of course, was never with them to begin with. she has the wardens. she's safe, enough, sort of. safer than wandering with her fugitive sibling, anyway.
summer comes, and isabela tells petra she can't stay. they can't help it, they know they shouldn't, but they can't help but demand to know how she could do that, not now, please, don't do this, don't leave me, not you too, and how could you break merrill's heart like you know this will?
they fight after that. but isabela stays, and petra doesn't tell merrill that she almost didn't.
they go back to the free marches, not too close, but varric is homesick, even with the chaos, even though petra (wearing a disguise, of course, they'd be mad to enter the city without one) can see that it weighs heavy on him. this is his city, even more than it's theirs', and he was happy here, but he's lost so much. as fate would have it, bastard that fate can be, it's where he loses hawke too - cassandra hears wind he's in town, and apprehends him. he manages to send word, some breath of what happened, to petra, telling them to get the hell out of town, take merrill and isabela and just leave, don't worry about him, they'll be together again soon, meet me at the hanged man at midnight, it's the last time i'll be able to see you and i'm not sure for how long. after that you have to go.
so petra's there, ten minutes to midnight, scared and red eyed from not letting themself cry and not being able to sleep. they go alone, despite protests. they won't risk losing anyone else, and varric told them to come alone anyway, so they did. he sends apologies to merrill and isabela, but if they're going to be apart for maker knows how long, he has something to say first.
and that's when my weird headcanon about qp dwarf marriage comes into play, idk if you've heard about that, but i have this idea i came up with that dwarves have different kinds of marriage ideas than humans do, based on dwarf culture and values - dwarves can marry for love, yeah, and to have families, but there are other kinds of unions that are for different kinds of bonds. there's a kind of "marriage" for business partners to bind them together by coin or politics, and there's one for something more than friends, deeper than friends. a love forged in stone, they call it. it's unavoidable, rarer than the more flighty love that comes with romance or sex. it's not something you seek out. it's something that happens, that you find unexpectedly buried in something you already had, like precious stones where you thought a mine yielded only slate. it means something humans don't have words for, so he doesn't know how to say it, but they don't have much time.
hawke's face is hidden under magic and a dark woolen cowl, but varric knows them by their walk when he sees them. he knows them by their figure, how they carry themselves, the way they smile, the callouses on their hands, the place they wear their daggers on their belt and their back. he knows everything and he wants to learn the rest.
so he tells the shortest and hardest to tell story he's ever told, and it's a question in the end.
a rambling mess, full of "oh hell, you know how shit i am with this kind of emotional crap" and "maybe i'm just being an idiot because of this whole 'kidnapped by the seekers' thing, you can leave any time and just wait until i break out or whatever"
but he manages something about never having met anyone like them, well, one close, but not quite, they always know what to say except when they don't and then it's still the right thing, he'd follow them anywhere, wants to, hates that they have to put the story on hold for whatever this crap is, something pretty close to "you complete me" but less gauche, and hawke raises an eyebrow but says nothing until he mutters "shit" and goes silent for a second, looking like he wants something to be said.
"are you asking me to marry you?" they joke, but of course
varric's response is a somewhat nervous laugh. he's never nervous. "actually, yeah? see, here's the thing, you humans don't really have the same sort of stuff we dwarves have, i know, shocking as that may seem to know based on all the striking similarities we share otherwise." he tells them a rough approximation, trying to leave out as much of the mushy parts as possible. it's just not either of their style.
hawke smiles and tells him to shut up, of course i will, shut up, i can't believe you got off being kidnapped to propose weird dwarf marriage you insane beautiful bastard.
varric reaches into his pocket, pulls out two strong but light chains, and what looks like (and is) a bit of some piece that broke off bianca and was replaced that he'd kept around for longer than he'd like to admit considering this was why he'd kept it.
they don't trade rings, you trade these. a chain with something that holds some real part of the other, so if you're parted, you have something of them beyond what you carry in you already. something physical. the chains are from the same metal, the same stone, like you are. hawke rummages in their pockets, embarrassed, cracking jokes, oh but i don't have any bits from my daggers laying around whatever will i do
they wind up with leandra's locket, always in their belt pouch, always always always, a reminder of love and loss, of failure, never again, never losing anyone like that again, and they thread it carefully on the chain, fasten it around varric's neck, can't help but laugh at the dainty thing on him, and let him put the bit of bianca on them.
varric admits he'll probably put it somewhere else. probably sew it into the lining of his coat. safer there, and less silly looking. hawke tucks the bianca pendant into their shirt, and their binding. it gently presses against their skin when their armour shifts. it's comforting.
a crier calls out 2am. they hesitate, bend down, gather up as much of varric as they can, hold him for as long and hard as they can, and varric does the same, they're both so bad with feelings, it's all sarcasm and action, but this is it, who knows how long, don't think about how long, just don't say that, please don't say that, i'll be back with you before you know it, don't tell me where you're going, i'll find you, i'll always find you, that way i can say i didn't know, but hawke tells him to lie, just lie, you call yourself such a good liar just prove it, the world's a big place and i refuse to lose you in it. (not again, please, not again, not you too, they add, but that goes unspoken. he hears it anyway.)
just before he lets them go, varric whispers a few names, places, people, a code word or two, and slips a piece of paper into hawke's hand. where to go, who to talk to, stay invisible, but don't you dare disappear on me. i wouldn't, wouldn't dare, you know that, don't you dare, don't get into any trouble i wouldn't get into, don't do anything too fun without me. (come back to me soon.)
take care of them for me, varric tells them. merrill especially, but isabela too. she thinks she doesn't need you. we were all stupid enough to think that at one point, weren't we? don't let go. i'll be back before you know it.
but isabela does leave. and it does break merrill's heart. but petra knows she'll be okay, because she doesn't leave alone, not like she said she would at first. she doesn't disappear into the night like fenris and anders, doesn't go to spare them something stupid that it doesn't spare them at all.
she goes because she finds the right time, the right opportunity, and petra lets her, because if they don't let her go now with grace, she'll leave later with bitterness, and she won't have anyone to leave with like she does now.
she comes back a few days later, tracks them down for a real goodbye, not the letter on the nightstand in the inn they were staying in for once she left before.
mutters something about zevran making her feel guilty about not kissing merrill goodbye. petra teases them both, what, not guilty about not giving me my goodbye kiss then? and isabela laughs. not remotely, she says, but she doesn't mean it, of course she doesn't.
so petra lets her go. and merrill does too, now she knows she's safe, with someone else who calls her family, someone else who loves her, even if he doesn't quite see how much.
and so it's just the two of them. and merrill, for the first time in their long trip, suggests their next destination.
she hasn't seen that part of the forest in more than ten years, but it still smells like home, and when she dreams, she dreams about the friends she lost there more vividly than she has in years, and she wakes up in tears and petra just holds on to her and doesn't ask too many questions until she's ready to answer them.
merrill wanders, looking for something, finding nothing.
eventually, they move on.
varric gets a letter through to them through sera, of all people, who gives him the address of the friend that works out of denerim, who tracks hawke down, not far from the city. not that sera knows what she's helping with, but varric promises her anything for the help, thanks her three times, and even she raises an eyebrow at that. not that she says anything to anyone about it, but she keeps it in mind, and of course she makes bad jokes that varric shoots down coldly immediately once it turns out that she was helping him bring hawke to skyhold.
merrill finds another dalish clan, isolated, enough that tales of hawke haven't reached them, and they wonder at the company this young mage keeps, and they tell her she can't stay too long - they already have three mages, but she's welcome for now.
it won't be long, hawke promises. i'll be back. stay with them, stay safe, i'll find you, vhenan.
merrill lights up as she always does when they call her that.
she stays. she learns. she lives. in a strange way, she heals a little. her hair's grown much longer, her face is starting to show age. she's got too many scars to hide now. petra trusts her, and that's enough that she trusts herself, and there's no lyrium when you're on the run. you use what you can. to their credit, for what it's worth, the clan she meets doesn't turn her out for it, though she knows they notice.
she asks their hahren for every tale he knows of those who can walk the fade at will, their keeper any spell that can help. they know much, this clan, but it's still barely anything.
still, she touches hawke in their dreams. briefly, softly, but she knows they wake up and they know. they don't remember too clearly, but they know.
it tears hawke apart all over again to leave. stroud wasn't a friend like the others were friends, but he was a friend nonetheless, and he's gone, and they always blame themself, no matter how much varric tells them it's not their fault, and fuck, at least hawke's still here.
they let it go.
and then, they leave. it gets harder, they realize. every time it gets harder. they ask varric for news of the others, and he has some, little bits. isabela is still with zevran, off sailing, finally. she's happy, or happy enough, safe, or safe-ish. fenris and anders are. well, they're both still alive. he can't say much more than that about either one of them.
what about you, hawke? he asks
what about me, i'm right in front of you
and varric cracks a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. it makes him look his age, or more than.
you know what i mean, he says, you always do.
and they do, of course, he's right. i don't know, hawke admits. i don't know how i am. i'm alive. for now, i'm alive and so are you and so is merrill and isabela and fenris and anders and aveline and bethany and i guess that's enough. this will all blow over before we know it, it'll be back to normal, wicked grace and piss whiskey at the hanged man on fridays, anders losing his pants to fenris at dice again, just like always. just you wait and see.
never thought i'd say i wanted to see that again, varric laughs. and he refuses to say goodbye. they hint at it, they both drop words that might go before goodbye, but when hawke leaves, they leave in the middle of a chapter, not at the end of it. to be continued.
(someday, when it all does finally end, or, more or less end, they all find each other again. they find somewhere to call home. a few somewheres, maybe, or somewhere that changes place from time to time. but they don't let go anymore. they don't pretend they don't need anyone.
anders joins in helping merrill teach fenris to read, and in return, fenris helps them both tend a garden. he mentions something about somewhere to put down roots, but only petra knows what he means. isabela and zevran come and go with the wind, aveline stays in kirkwall, bethany's still with the wardens. fenris and anders both leave sometimes, but they always come back, and they get a little less reckless. even merrill leaves from time to time.
but mostly, they stay together.
and of course, the dog stays. the dog stays until he's too old to stand. like he knows the smell after all this time or something like it, he holds out until they reach somewhere just near where lothering used to be. they bury him in their old back yard, or their best guess of where it was.
ten years, fifteen. they slip into a lull, almost a sense of security. if the world hasn't got them yet, maybe they've gotten the best of it.
but the calling comes anyway.
nothing lasts forever.
and someday, they'll all have to say goodbye.
hawke tries not to think about that too much, like they try not to think about how much time bethany has left, or whether it's better to know for sure, rather than to just wonder and not know until they're gone.
merrill says there's a calling for everyone. all we can do is make everything before that matter as much as we can and hurt as little. no one can do more.
they keep going. they don't let go. but they move on.
and after that? after everything? who knows, really.
you just have to live it to see.)