Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any rights to the game. I do not benefit money in any way from these writings.

Author's Note: Yet another prompt from the kink_meme. This time the prompt was a mpreg, which I could not refuse.

Chapter One

Fenris woke in the middle of the night to a sound he didn't like. The space next to him was empty but still warm, very recently vacated. The white-haired elf threw back the heavy blankets and fought back a shiver when his bare feet met the freezing stone floor.

"Hawke?" he tried, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Hawke."

He heard a small groan from the corner of the room where the water basin was set on a small table. Fenris stood unconcerned with his nudity. There was no one in Hawke's house who would walk in unannounced. When his eyes adjusted he could see Hawke bent over the basin. Fenris came up behind him and laid a hand on his lover's shoulder.

"Salea? Are you all right?"

Salea coughed and Fenris wet a towel with the water from the pitcher and handed it to the rogue. Salea wiped his mouth with it and straightened.

"Thank you," he said, before clearing his throat. Fenris watched him carefully. Other than a flush in his cheeks that was quickly fading now that he was not straining to rid his stomach of his dinner earlier, Salea didn't appear sick. Fenris reached up and pulled Salea's long black hair over his shoulder and out of his face.

"You want a drink?"

Salea nodded.

Fenris poured a cup from the pitcher and watched his lover gulp it down.

"Come back to bed," Fenris said helping his lover with no more than a light touch at his lower back. Salea went willingly, clearly exhausted. He held the covers while Salea climbed in and huddled in the blankets with a shiver. Fenris crawled in after him and Salea turned to face him curling into his embrace. The elf kissed his lover's brow. "Are you sick?" Fenris finally asked.

Salea looked up at him with a frown. "No," he said. "I don't think so."

Fenris searched those beautiful golden-brown eyes. "Has this been going on long?"

Salea looked away. "About three weeks."

"Three weeks," Fenris said darkly. "And you didn't say anything?"

"Fen, please," Salea looked back at him. "Tommorow? We'll talk tomorrow."

Fenris didn't like it, but he agreed. Salea was obviously tired and in no shape to argue.

Hawke was a source of strength and reason for all who knew him well. It was hard to see him reveal weakness of any kind simply because Salea so rarely let it show. He was always too busy making his companions feel good about what they had to do and forget the hard times. Salea was small in stature for a human. He was good at what he did, deft with his hands whether they were wielding blades or lock picks. Salea moved through battle with a grace only one as lithe and quick as he was could accomplish. Whether Salea was laughing with their companions at the Hanged Man, encouraging them to stand for their beliefs, or standing up against Qunari Arishoks, it was easy to forget he wasn't invincible.

But now, wrapped in Fenris' arms he felt every bit as small as he was. Fenris didn't like not knowing. Salea was keeping something from him, he was certain.

The next morning when Fenris woke he knew instantly his arms were empty of a certain Hawke. At least this time he didn't waken to retching. He knew without looking around that he was completely alone. He let out a hefty sigh before sitting up, then smiled. In the middle of the room was a large bathing tub. The water still hot if the steam was anything to go by. Salea must have had Sandal bring it up for him.

Once Fenris had settled into the muscle-loosening heat he leaned his head back and thought about the night before. Things had been busy the last couple of weeks. Fenris hadn't been able to see much of his lover let alone sit down and talk with him. Which is why he missed out on the little detail that Hawke has been throwing up for three weeks!

Fenris scowled at the ceiling. He really didn't like that. There weren't supposed to be any secrets between them. Not anymore. They had agreed to always speak their minds, as well. Leaving important issues up to guessing games was a needless aggravation. So, why hadn't Salea told him? There had been chances, albeit brief ones, but he could have told him. A sliver of bitterness entered his heart as the thought that he was probably the last to know came to him. He squashed that feeling quickly. Hawke wouldn't do that to him. He trusted Salea. Those days of being alone—having no one to depend on—were over.

Finally, he decided the most likely scenario was that Salea was keeping it to himself so as not to burden anyone else with his problems. A habit Fenris was trying to—not break him of—but at least lessen. He was proud that Hawke was so strong. But just as Fenris had trusted the Champion with his past and burdens, Salea needed to allow his willing lover to help him carry the load. Fenris needed to be needed.

After his bath Fenris went downstairs to the dining room where he found Salea cheerfully helping himself to a large breakfast of griddlecakes, fruit, eggs, bacon…there was more but Fenris' eyes were for his Hawke. Salea smiled at him. Fenris joined him. At least whatever was wrong hadn't diminished Salea's generous appetite in the slightest. For now that was good enough.

After their meal when Fenris brought it up again, Salea assured him he was going to see Anders that afternoon. Fenris insisted on going with him, to which Salea then insisted that the warrior had to wait outside during the examination. And so, that is where we was now standing against the dirt-crusted wall sneering at innocent passersby and skittering rats alike.

Inside the clinic Anders was kneeling in front of the Champion of Kirkwall, his hands pressed to the smaller man's naked stomach. No one else was there. Anders had made certain to clear everyone away for a single hour that day. For this.

After several minutes of silence Salea was practically vibrating with his need to fidget but he didn't dare.

"Well?" he finally demanded.

Anders looked up at him, could see the eagerness in his friend's eyes, but also the quiet fear of disappointment.

The mage smiled at him.

"It worked," he said.

Hawke's eyes grew wide and he just stared down at the mage. A knit in his brow revealed just how much he'd been expecting to hear something negative and it was taking him a time to process what Anders actually said.

"It worked?" It was a disbelieving whisper.

Anders stood nodding, unable to stop smiling.

"The little tykes are healthy, too, as far as I can tell, though they're not quite babies yet," Anders continued. "You're a little over two months along." The mage turned to straighten supplies on the table to allow Salea to pull his shirt back on—to hide his hurt. In the beginning Anders certainly hadn't hidden his interest in the smaller man. But Hawke had fallen heavily for the mage-hating elf before even Salea realized. Anders could see it, when Hawke gently turned him down. Salea wanted Fenris.

Anders wanted to kill the broody elf who questioned Salea's every move, who argued and cursed everything having to do with magic. The mage wanted to hit him and scream how unfair it was that Salea already belonged to Fenris if the elf would have him. How unfair it was that that damned elf had Hawke's love and didn't even know it.

…until that night. Salea's first. He'd given Fenris his first and the elf walked out on him, too scared to face something as good and pure as Salea's love. Too cowardly to believe they could overcome whatever difficulties arose together.

As much as it hurt Salea when Fenris walked away that night, as much as it hurt the others to see Hawke hurting, Anders couldn't help hoping that now he had a second chance at the lovely man. But Hawke had given himself too much, too honestly, too deeply that he could not give up on the elf.

I love him, Salea told Anders with that sad smile that hid so much pain and longing.

Salea remained faithful. Turned down many prospects and offers both from within their tight-knit group and without.

Anders knew he should move on himself, perhaps find someone, or at least defeat his own longing for Salea. But at the back of his mind he kept hoping that when Hawke finally gave up waiting for Fenris to come around, Anders would be the one he turned to.

Unfortunately, that's not at all what happened.

Once Anders felt he had his emotions under control and his expression composed, he turned back to his friend. Salea hadn't moved a muscle to redress himself. He simply stood staring at the mage.

Anders frowned. "What? Is something wrong?" He reached out with a gentle hand to Hawke's belly. "Are you in pain?"

"Babies?" Salea finally whispered.

Anders stared at him in confusion, then smiled with understanding.

"Oh, yes," he chuckled at his friend's shocked face. "Twins. Two of them. You have…two—whoa, now." He steadied his swaying companion with both hands on his upper arms. "Steady now, Hawke. You have to face your lover now." There was the slightest hesitation before he said lover, but Salea was too shaky to notice.

Salea sat on a nearby crate and looked up at his friend with a certain determination.

"Don't tell him," he said.

Anders stared at him as if he were insane.

"Don't tell him? Hawke, there are a few things he's bound to notice."

"Not yet," Salea insisted. "I want to wait. Make sure the danger of miscarriage is mostly passed. I wouldn't want to get his hopes up for nothing." Salea looked at the dirt floor. "I don't even know if he wants this," he muttered, a little dejectedly.

Anders could only think of how he would feel if Salea came to him with such news. Knowing how much the rogue was willing to go through and risk for the chance of a family… The mage had to quell that line of thinking. Hawke was not his. Those are not his children.

"I will not speak for your broody lover," Anders said slowly. "But I cannot imagine the joy he will feel knowing you would do this with him—for him." He smiled for his friend, coaxing one in return out of the smaller man. "What you're doing is amazing and he will see that."

Salea shook his head with a growing smile, a tad surprised that he for once was having to be cheered up by one of his companions. "Thank you, Anders," he said, lifting a hand. Anders grasped it and pulled the Champion to his feet.

"You are most welcome."

When Salea and Anders emerged from the clinic Hawke practically knocked Fenris off his feet with a most enthusiastic embrace. The mage informed him that Salea had contracted an infection from an earlier injury and the vomiting was Salea's body's reaction to purge his system. He then warned the elf that this would go on for another couple of weeks, but that he'd given Salea an elixir and it was best to allow the infection to run its course.

It was all a load of dog shit.

Fenris listened with only half an ear, watching the lie dance behind the mage's eyes as he spoke. Salea went along with it. Fenris fought with himself over whether or not to be furious with his lover and the abomination as he and Hawke returned to the mansion. He knew what Anders said was not the truth and Salea was in on it, but he also knew that Salea would never do anything to hurt him.

Whatever the matter, Salea was overcome with a happiness that Fenris did not quite understand. When the rogue pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, Fenris had to ask.

"Where is this coming from?" He couldn't hide the smirk that curved his lips right before Salea kissed them.

Pulling away Salea opened the elf's shirt and ran the palms of his hands over the lyrium-tattooed chest.

"It's just," Hawke gave him a gentle smile, "right now, life is good." He paused and a flash of pain and regret crossed his handsome face. "My mother will finally get something she wanted for a long time."

Fenris did not understand what that something was, but he did not press. The death of Salea's mother, the last member of his immediate family, still ached heavily in the rogue's heart. Whatever he and Anders were keeping secret must have something to do with Leandra and so he would not demand answers. Salea would reveal it to him in time. Of that he had no doubt.

Salea's eyes opened slowly the next morning. He shifted beneath the sheets and was met with a subtle ache he knew all too well. The feeling brought a lazy smile to his lips. Fenris, despite his lithe figure, was incredibly strong. Whether it was because of the lyrium etched throughout his body which granted him such inhuman strength, or the physical toning of wielding that massive sword he carries, his strength was part of what made him an excellent lover. Salea nuzzled his face into his pillow remembering their first night. Fenris' past had made him strong, but his love made him gentle. Back then the elf had been so cautious, hopeful. Afraid that if he allowed himself to care about anything he would one day destroy it, or be betrayed by it. He'd held Salea that night as though he would break him, as if he did not trust himself to be able to control his own power. But Salea gave him everything and happily took everything Fenris gave in return once the caution had faded in sight of passion.

Though the morning after was counted among the darkest of Salea's young life, he remembered that night with significant fondness.

Salea knew Fenris would be gone as he often was before the Champion awoke. He'd expected it. What he didn't expect was the note on what had become Fenris' side of the bed. Salea smiled warmly at the sight of the child-like scrawl. Teaching his lover to read had been slow, but not necessarily difficult. Fenris was incredibly smart he'd just never been given the chance to prove it. However, his writing 'left much to be desired' as Hawke's mother had put it. Salea loved it, though, running his fingers over the chicken-scratch letters. It endeared the elf to him even more.

Salea,

I wanted to be with you when you woke, but there is something I need to check up on. It may take a few days. We will talk soon. I have a feeling there is something you wish to tell me and there is something I wish to share with you in return. I love you. Please do not do anything foolish while I am away from you.

Fenris

Salea sighed and got up to wash and dress.

"The only times I do anything really foolish is when I am with you," he said out loud to the empty room. Since things were a bit slow now, and without Fenris to keep him company he figured a trip to the Hanged Man was in order. Maybe he'd see if Varic had any hits for some small jobs. Or if Isabela had found anything on Castillon's whereabouts yet.

Nothing too big, he hoped. He wasn't one to sit idly by—he needed to keep himself busy. But nothing too strenuous. He did not want to do anything to hurt the babies. He sighed again. That meant no more drinking games with Varic and everyone; except Sebastian. The archer did not "desecrate" his body with such foul drink…anymore, but he certainly enjoyed watching and laughing while his friends did. One time Merrill had insisted on joining them, though she had never drunk more than one at a time when Isabela tried to get her to "expand her horizons". She had turned out to be a fine drinker to everyone's surprise. But as it turned out the sneaky elf was using a spell to turn her ale to water. So while everyone else was falling of their stools with empty pockets, Merrill went home happily sober with a pouch of silvers. Isabela's influence, no doubt. Hawke looked forward to those nights, almost depended on them to break up the continuous fighting and killing.

Salea smiled with a soft rub over his hard stomach wondering how long before those muscles disappeared in favor of a soft mound.

Oh, well, he thought, no more drink. But in the end it would be well worth it.

As it turned out Isabela had found someone who would lead her directly to Castillon. The group ordered another round to discuss Isabela's plan and Salea refused the drink yet again. Varic complained the loudest, all in good fun of course, about how Salea never turned down a good drink, especially if someone else was paying for it, and so on, but Salea simply laughed it off. With a quick glance to Anders, a look the mage returned, the rogue was able to give an entirely reasonable excuse and the group moved on in topic.

Isabela's plan was certainly going to require fighting at some point, though it started out peacefully enough with Hawke 'betraying' her to Castillon's man posted in the city. Salea was uncertain. He did not wish to risk the babies, but he could not find an excuse good enough without revealing his predicament that Isabela would accept for his going back on his earlier promise to help her. He never broke his word.

And so he agreed.

When Anders opened his mouth to protest a single meaningful glare from Salea shut him up. However, the mage demanded that he be part of the group accompanying Hawke.

Salea killed Castillon when the man showed up. Isabela was angry at first. She'd been willing to simply barter with the man, but Salea had seen the documents of the 'business' the man was in. The number of slaves passing through his hands was intolerable. Fenris would have never forgiven the man being allowed to live and continue his work, and Salea could not have lived with the guilt. He was fairly easily able to convince Isabela of the rightness in killing Castillon. She blamed Salea for forcing his morals onto her, but she was an intelligent woman and not really so heartless as she'd like everyone to think. She'd already allowed an entire shipload of slaves to escape and that was before she'd ever met the Champion.

In the end, Isabela had her own ship again and could finally stop looking over her shoulder for Castillon's goons. According to her, (Salea took her word for it, knowing very little about ships himself), it was a fine vessel. She named it the Siren's Call II, after her first prized ship that was lost trying to escape some very angry Qunari.

With that complication done and over with, Salea returned home early to rest rather than remain at the Hanged Man with the others. Helping Isabela had taken a little over four days in planning and executing, and yet Fenris had still not returned. Salea knew the letter said he'd be gone for a few days, meaning that Fenris did not know just how long it would take. But he'd hoped the elf would be back by now. He missed him.

He went to bed early that night, exhausted from the mission with Isabela and feeling the heavy loneliness of his empty bed in his empty house. He rubbed a hand over his belly while he drifted off thinking of how much he wished to feel the babies' movements already. At least that miraculous flutter of life would have been a comfort to him as he slipped into the darkness of dreams and nightmares without his warrior lover at his side.

Salea floated into the realm of consciousness. He felt the mattress dip behind him. It was the middle of the night, he knew. The room would be pitch black so it was pointless to try to open his tired eyes. He should probably be afraid. An intruder in his room while he was so vulnerable. But he felt no malicious intent from the presence moving in behind him on the bed. He didn't understand how he could possibly know that, but he was too tired to riddle it out.

"Fenris?" he murmured, turning his head as if to look over his shoulder.

Someone shushed him gently before soft lips pressed against the place just behind his ear that made him shiver.

"Go back to sleep, love," the voice whispered, and Salea did.

Salea woke slowly the next morning. The sunlight through the window splashed across his bedspread making him so comfortably warm he didn't want to get up. Lying there he remembered his late night visitor and smiled. Turning over he faced Fenris' side of the bed and…nothing. His lover wasn't there. Fenris often got up before Salea to leave the manor before the streets outside filled with gossipers, but it didn't look like the blankets or sheets had even been disturbed.

Was it a dream? His lover's presence felt so real, though. Had he really been so desperate for his lover that he conjured such a realistic experience in his sleep-addled state?

The rogue sighed, pushing the covers away and sitting up. Downstairs he could hear Bodahn scolding Sandal for doing handstands on "the master's bookcase". Salea smiled. He was going to miss the dwarves when they left. Bodahn said once that their service wouldn't be permanent, after all. Salea understood their gratitude and their need to repay any debts they felt they owed Hawke for finding Sandal in the Deep Roads. What the rogue hadn't counted on was how close a friend he would find with the odd pair—how lonely the manor would be without them. First his little brother, then dear, lovely Bethany. Finally his beloved mother. All were taken from him so violently.

He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye to hold back the sudden hot tears. They simply slid down his other cheek.

Salea kissed the first knuckle of his other hand in remembrance, holding it to his lips until the aching in his heart abated. He lost his first family, yes, but now, by miracles and methods he still did not truly understand, he'd been given a second chance. He rubbed a loving hand over his lower belly. He would have a family again. Small and imperfect, but so cherished and so...so perfect.

Hawke walked a little aimlessly through the busy market in Hightown. He didn't have plans for the day really. Lately he was kind of taking things as they came. The destruction caused by the Qunari uprising was nearly yesterday's news, at least structurally. The people in Kirkwall were resilient, he gave them that. They handled the pain by throwing themselves into hard work, at least the lower classes did, and the fruits of their labor was an obvious improvement. Hardly a blackened scar from the fires on any of the buildings or walls.

The constant fighting between the Templars and mages had increased significantly, though. Knight Commander Meredith was turning into a beast of an enforcer, which only caused the mages to become more and more rebellious and desperate. It was a vicious cycle. Salea could see both sides of the coin. He understood that the Templars were there to control those few mages who had ill intentions, or were too weak-willed to resist demons. But Salea couldn't help but feel that it was more fear of the Templars and the Circle that caused mages to give in so willingly to those temptations. When an animal is backed against a wall with no escape it is only natural to grasp whatever route to freedom the poor thing can find.

He knew it was all going to come to a head at some point, but until then, until there was an obvious enemy, Salea found he and his fighting companions were wanting for things to do.

His wandering found him staring at the steps leading to the Viscount's Keep. Salea realized he hadn't seen Aveline in a while. It was probably about time for one of his famous, unannounced visits.

The door was ajar when Hawke approached the Captain's office.

"I need to know if it's a trap," Fenris demanded. Salea brightened at hearing his lover's voice. Without knocking, he pushed the door open and walked inside. He was so happy to see the elf it took him a moment to realize the anger and unrest radiating from the warrior as he paced in front of Aveline's desk.

"I did as you asked, Fenris." Aveline appeared at a loss. "Now it's up to you." Aveline stood to walk out. "You talk to him, Hawke. I've had my fill for today," she said to Salea before closing the door to her own office to give them privacy.

Fenris looked over his shoulder at Salea, a brief look of surprise flashing in his eyes. His lover was truly preoccupied about whatever this matter was if he didn't even notice Salea enter the room. His lover cursed angrily.

"Fenris?" Salea spoke up quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"It's my sister," Fenris growled in frustration turning away again to pace. "I followed up on the information Hadriana gave me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But I wanted to be certain first. Everything the bitch said was true." Fenris heaved a sigh and he looked so defeated. Salea could see how much his lover hoped, but was too afraid to believe. "Salea, I sent her a letter and money to come meet me."

"So, she's not a slave anymore. Did she come?" Salea stepped up to the elf, rested a hand on his forearm. By the snippets he overheard earlier, he knew the answer. The warrior nodded.

Fenris slipped a hand through Hawke's long, dark hair to squeeze the back of his lover's neck. He pulled their heads together so they touched.

"I apologize," Fenris said. "I had to keep it secret. Varania lives in Minrathous now. Danarius could be all over this. In fact, I'm almost certain he is. Come with me, Salea. I need you there with me."

Salea leaned in and kissed those soft lips he'd dreamed about too often in the elf's absence.

"Where is she?"

Fenris smiled, relieved. "I missed you, love," he said, pulling the small rogue into his embrace. His lips found that very same place behind Hawke's ear that made him tremble as it always did—as it did the night before.

"It was you last night," Salea purred with a smile. "I thought you were a dream."

Fenris pulled back. "You can never trust dreams," he said. "But this," he traced his thumb over Salea's lips before kissing him deeply. "This, you can always trust," he murmured against his lover's mouth before kissing him again.

Fenris said they'd arranged it so that Varania would wait for him in the Hanged Man during the day, and that she would be there every day for a week. Salea had learned the importance of caution in his young lifetime, so he could not let Fenris go that day. No matter how much Fenris needed to just get this over with—needed to know if there was a relationship with family to be had or not; needed some answers to his past—Salea felt very strongly that they needed to scope everything out first before making a move.

The first two days Varic and Isabela surveyed the Hanged Man diligently. The two were there so often anyway that they would not look out of place to anyone there. At the end of both days the pair reported no suspicious activity. When Fenris asked, they confirmed sighting an elf woman who seemed very anxious, but she never spoke to anyone or met with anyone at any time. Salea had confirmed with Aveline that when Varania arrived by ship she did so alone, and there were no reports from her guard of anyone matching Danarius' description. At night when Varania left the tavern to return to the inn she was staying, Merrill and Sebastian trailed her. They also confirmed that she neither met with anyone, nor stayed with anyone. Salea did not think there was anything else he could do. The woman seemed very much to have simply come to see her long, lost brother, but Hawke could not shake the sick feeling in his stomach that something was wrong. He could not put this off any longer. With Anders' confirmation that he, and Justice, did not feel the presence of dark or blood magic at either the Hanged Man or the inn, Salea was out of excuses.

Still he hesitated. The thought of losing Fenris to the cruel blood mage left him sick at heart. It was unbearable—unthinkable. Maybe he was being too careful, but in this he could not allow failure. It simply wasn't an option.

He talked Fenris into waiting one more day to be certain, and then they would go the morning of the fourth day. Reluctantly Fenris agreed. Salea knew he wasn't happy, though. He growled out that he was going for a walk before storming out of the manor. If Danarius was in Kirkwall, nothing would stop him from simply snatching Fenris away at any moment he found his ex-slave alone. Salea looked pleadingly to Sebastian and the archer gave him a kind smile.

"Don't worry, Hawke," he said, his accent soft and his tone reassuring. "I'll look after our elf friend. Perhaps he'll go to the Chantry, and we'll pray together."

Salea chuckled. "Thank you, Sebastian," he said. Strangely enough the broody warrior and the covenanted archer agreed on many things. Their approval of each other's morals, philosophies, and actions lead to respect and a rather strange friendship. If Fenris would allow anyone to tail him now, it would be the well-meaning and honest Starkhaven prince.

Once Sebastian left and the others returned home, except Merrill who volunteered to continue to watch Varania's inn, Salea was left with only Anders standing next to him in the corridor leading to the main hall of the house.

"I don't want you to go," Anders said. Salea shook his head and turned to walk into the hall. Anders followed.

"I have to go," Salea said. "I will not let Fenris do this alone."

"I worry about you. Since I told you you were pregnant you haven't taken it easy at all."

"Anders—"

"No," the mage interrupted. "Salea, you cannot go. You are at serious risk. And that risk goes beyond you now. You're putting those babies in jeopardy." A hurt look passed over Salea's face. "If something happens, if Danarius is there—all it takes is for you to get caught in the path of a spell and you will lose them."

The mage sighed heavily when his friend turned away from him. He felt badly for having to be so forward, but Hawke was being reckless. Anders knew it was because Salea's eyes and heart followed only after that bloody elf.

Anders shook his head and took a step back. Salea didn't love him. He needed to get past that. He could not make the rogue do anything he didn't want to do. Salea would go with Fenris to the Hanged Man because that is what one does for the ones they love. Anders watched the smaller man for a long time knowing without a doubt that he would do the same and so much more for someone he loved.

"Salea, I'm sorry," Anders said finally.

"Don't for a moment think that my every thought does not revolve around what is best for my babies," Salea said quietly, his voice hard as stone. "But Fenris is as important." The rogue turned around and looked up at the mage. "I am going with him. Now," he reached up to rest his hand on Anders' shoulder. "Do I have to do this without you, or will you have my back?"

Anders looked down at him with red-rimmed eyes. When he spoke his voice was soft, rough.

"I always have your back."

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