Bethany walked into the badly lit room, looking around apprehensively. She saw her sister, in her smallclothes, sleeping on the desk, face smushed against piles of papers. With a worried sigh, she walked over to her. Yup, it would be impossible to wake her now.
With a little help from magic, Bethany dragged her sister to the bed. The woman promptly started snoring. Bethany shook her head. She walked to the window, inspecting the outsides.
Kirkwall was burning. Many people were to blame, but Meredith and Orsino were the top contenders. With help from her own sister. She looked back. The older Hawke was sleeping soundly on her back, snoring like a dragon.
Isabela would be in her ship, making sure everything was ready for departure. Varric was probably looting the Hanged Man for booze. Fenris would be in his mansion. Aveline would be looking after Merril. Sebastian would be returning to Starkhaven and Anders…Anders was told to disappear.
Bethany tried to hold back tears unsuccessfully. Everything was wrong.
She observed her sister's heavy breathing; just to be sure she wasn't dead. Bethany had fixed her up as well as she could, but she was no healer.
Knowing her sister had killed nearly every Templar in the city only to save her was the source of mixed emotions, so much happiness yet so much sorrow.
Besides the badly closed wounds on the woman's body, scars littered her skin. Bethany absentmindedly took her hand to her own leg, the only scar she had.
Ignoring her sister's orders, she had run off into the woods outside Lothering, due to some petty fight with Carver. She had tripped, fallen and hurt her leg pretty badly, but in less than ten minutes her sister had found her and carried her home. It was that day she had sworn to never let Bethany get hurt again.
Bethany sat on the edge of the bed, tracing every scar with her eyes. How many times had the older Hawke leaped in front of an attack destined for Bethany?
Bethany nearly jumped out of bed as the woman began to stir.
"Sister? How are you?"
"I feel like I got trampled by a convention of dwarves."
Bethany shook her head.
"We're leaving with Isabela next week."
"Right. Let's hope Templars can't swim."
Bethany frowned deeply.
"If I wasn't afraid you'd rupture something and bleed out I'd slap you."
"What did I do?" asked the older Hawke, eyebrows raised.
"Why? Why do you keep hurting yourself for me?"
"Because you're my little sister. It's my job."
Bethany stared at her sister for a while. She ruffled her hair, smiling slightly.
"But here I am taking care of you."
"I'll consider that my reward."
"Can I sleep here tonight?"
Bethany lied down and snuggled close to her sister. She smiled bitterly. As much as she hated the pain her sister put herself through, she couldn't help but love the selfless acts and the everlasting protection.