Sometimes on these quiet days, Mallory didn't know what to do with herself. After years of one disaster after another, in a time of relative peace and prosperity she was at a loss. In theory she had a job, a commission from the king and queen of Ferelden. In practice with no wars to fight, after they had decided she made a terrible teacher for the now free mages, she and Fenris had titles but no actual jobs. Alistair occasionally liked their advice, but Elizabeth was prone to put her head in her hands whenever Mallory chimed in. Apparntly killing everyone in their path wasn't the queen's preferred method of dealing with Orlesians. Or really, Mal suspected that the queen was smothering laughter, because that was her first thought too, only she had the political finesse to pretend otherwise.

It was a bit bewildering.

Of course there were always slavers to hunt down, but with Ava just three years old and a new baby on the way, it made that a little bit difficult. Besides that the Inquisition had gotten into the business and who really wanted to compete with them?

No, if she wasn't sitting around court, advising, and terrifying people into submission, (that was one job the court's first mage got to partake in, thought Mallory suspected the queen had wanted Anders for it they had been friends back in the day, but everyone was still a bit miffed with Anders for the whole chantry thing) she wasn't doing anything at all.

Not that she really missed sleeping in the woods and being dirty and constantly waiting for someone to try to kill her for being an Apostate or for being Champion of Kirkwall or trying to kidnap Fenris for his lyrium markings. She certainly didn't regret Ava or the new baby, even if he was in the habit of sitting on her bladder, but she was bored.

At the moment she was prowling (or rather waddling) around their house. Fenris was reading, one eye on Ava who had spread her paints out across the floor.

"Mama, paint with me."

"Soon Mama is going to be too fat to fit on the floor," she said, joining Ava and taking a brush.

Fenris rolled his eyes at her over the top of the book.

"What are we painting?"

"Dragons. You paint the mama and I paint the baby."

"You may be slightly overestimating my artistic ability."

Ava poked her with her brush. "Make it purple, Mama."

"As my mistress commands," Mallory said, dutifully dipping the brush in purple and swirling something onto the paper.

Fenris snickered.

"It looks like a dragon if you squint," she said.

"You've dragged me many places with dragons, but I have never seen one like that."

"Oh let's see you do better."

Fenris shut his book with a smirk and took up a spot next to her on the floor.

"Draw the Da dragon," Ava ordered.

"As you wish, little one."

Mallory scooted behind him, planting her chin on his shoulder. "His wings are lopsided."

"At least he has wings."

"Why does he have feathers?"

"They're scales."

"Mm, I don't see it."

"Mama, I need glitter."

"I'll get it," Fenris said. "Sit."

"Bossy."

He smiled at her and got to his feet, then a moment later from the other room came his voice, "Where is it?"

She laughed and climbed to her feet. "Coming."

"I can find it."

"He can't find it," Mallory whispered to Ava.

"I can hear you."

"I know." She joined him and dug through the cabinet until she found the sparkles in question. "Here."

"I would have found it."

"Of course."

He made a face at her, she grinned and kissed his cheek before wandering towards the jar of cookies. "We're almost out," she said, shaking it as if that would help.

"I wonder why."

"If you're implying I ate them all-"

Fenris wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Not implying. No."

"It's the little monster spawn's fault."

"I seem to remember lack of cookies was a problem back in Kirkwall."

"Qunari ate them."

"Qunari don't eat cookies."

"Varric."

He rolled his eyes.

"Da! Come look at me Da!"

"Better go look before she comes and eats my cookies," Mallory said with a grin.

Fenris released her and prowled back into the living room. "Mallory!" his voice was choked and she flew into the room, staff already in hand from its resting spot against the wall.

She almost collided with Fenris where he stood rigid in the doorway. The jar of glitter had smashed into the ground, covering it in sparkles and shards of glass. Ava was standing with her arms raised proudly, covered in white paint. Not just white pain, Mallory realized, lines and dots all across her arms and face, the same patterns, albeit in a childish hand, as Fenris' lyrium markings.

As she took the scene in, Ava's lip began to wobble and her eyes filled with tears. "Da? I look like you Da."

Fenris' stood frozen, the lyrium marks pulsing bright blue. Ava burst into tears and Mallory sighed, replacing her staff and moving to pick their daughter up. "Hush love, don't cry."

"I wanted to look like Da," she bawled.

"Take them off her," Fenris snarled. "Mallory!"

Ava started sobbing harder.

"Fenris! Calm down." Mallory put a hand out to his shoulder.

"She wants those slave markings," he ranted, moving away from her comforting hand. "Those accursed magic brands!"

"Fenris, that's not what she thinks they are. Shhh. You're scaring her."

He turned away from them, glaring at the wall.

"I'm sorry," Ava wailed.

"It's okay, don't cry Ava," Mallory wiped her face on her sleeve and carried her back into the kitchen, sitting her on the counter, running a wet cloth over her face, wiping away the paint and the tears. "Don't cry baby."

"Da's mad at me."

"He's not mad at you."

"He yelled. And he broke my glitter." She sniffled dramatically. "Da hates me Mama."

"No he doesn't. He was just upset."

"But I wanted to look like him."

"Oh baby, you do."

"No I don't," she started to cry again, the pathetic kind of tears. "I wanted pretty stripes too."

Mallory hugged her. "Shh."

"Why doesn't Da like them?"

Mallory hesitated. Ava was too young to have any idea of where either of them had come from other than carefully edited versions of their adventures in Kirkwall. No point in scaring her senseless. Mallory remembered well enough the pains her father had taken to keep her from every knowing what danger they were in as a child, and once she had known about mage and templars him recruiting her to keep Carver and Bethany in the same ignorance she had enjoyed at their age.

But Ava was watching expectantly, she had to tell her something. "Because a very bad man gave them to him."

"Who?" her eyes widened. "Meredith?"

"No," Mallory said, biting back a smile at her daughter's immediate subject for blame. "A bad Tevinter mage name Danarius."

"Why?"

"So Da could fight for him."

"Why?"

"Because Danarius was a sissy. Remember? I met Da when bad guys were chasing him?"

"Is he coming back?" Ava asked, eyes widening in alarm. "Will he steal Da?"

"No baby, we dealt with him a long time ago."

"Did you set him on fire?"

"More or less."

"Good," she said with a scowl.

Fenris appeared behind her without a sound, handing over clean clothes for Ava. Mallory squeezed his hand as she took them, stripping their daughter of the now paint and tear splattered outfit and swapping it for the clean one. What he had picked didn't match at all, but she didn't mention it.

"I did not mean to frighten you," Fenris said in a low voice. "Ava."

Ava didn't look at him, pouting now. "You yelled."

"I'm sorry."

"You yelled at me."

"Oh Maker," Mallory groaned, picking Ava up and taking Fenris by the other hand. "Come on you two."

They were both ridiculous, Mallory reflected as she dragged her two dejected loved ones towards the mirror in the living room. Honestly, a small version of her would be easier to deal with than a little broody Fenris junior. She shuddered to think of what the teenage years would be like.

"Now look," she ordered, shifting Ava to her hip next to Fenris. "You look just like your Da."

"No I don't," Ava said, sticking her lower lip out in a pout.

"Yes you do. You both have pretty green puppy eyes."

Fenris scowled at her. "Puppy eyes."

"That you use to guilt Mama into everything," Mallory continued over him. "See? And you have pretty little noses not like me. And pretty skin."

"I don't have pointy ears," Ava said pushing her hair back. "Or white hair."

"You know who else has dark hair? Uncle Carver. Sadly. But so did Granny-" Leandra wouldn't appreciate being dubbed Granny, but she wasn't here to complain about it anyway. "And maybe even Da when he was little."

Ava scowled at her reflection and Mallory bit back a laugh. Even her expressions were Fenris' through and through.

"But I want pretty stripes."

"I have a better idea. Let Da hold you."

Pouting Ava went to Fenris and Mallory scrambled to find what she was looking for, returning with a well worn jar that had survived the trip from Lothering and against all odds the journeys in and following Kirkwall. Then again, Malcolm Hawke had only kept things that would last.

They were both still wearing identical annoyed expressions when she returned. "What's that?" Ava asked.

"You can see when you say sorry to Da for being mean," Mallory told her.

"Da yelled."

"Yes well, don't you think you hurt his feelings not answering him? And he said he was sorry."

Ava glowered, but turned back to Fenris. "I'm sorry Da."

"Now look," she took the lid off the jar of red paint and held it out to Ava. "This is very special," she told her in her best mysterious voice. "A secret Hawke family tradition."

"A nose smudge? Really Mallory?" Fenris asked.

"You bet. It's battle paint Ava. Like this," she dipped her finger into the jar and smeared it across her nose. "See? You want some?"

"Yes! And Da." Ava shoved her fingers into the paint and promptly smeared a streaky line across half of Fenris' face, almost completely missing his nose. "We match!"

His lips twitched into a smile. "We do."

Ava planted a kiss on his cheek. "I love you Da."

"I love you too."

"And I love Ma. And Perry. Can Perry have a nose smudge?"

"You go ahead and try," Mallory said, gesturing to her mabari who was lying in the sun, oblivious to the conflict around him.

Fenris set her down and off she ran, over her bout of bad temper. Mallory sidled up next to him and put her arms around him, head against his heart.

"You okay?"

He shrugged and hugged her back. "I perhaps overreacted. But seeing her with those," his voice faltered.

"It's okay Fen," she soothed.

"What if they come back one day?" he asked in a low, agitated voice. "We killed so many slavers Mallory. They know who we are. What if they come for her? What if some Tevinter Magister wants the daughter of the Champion Kirkwall and the lyrium elf? Varania is still alive out there. Perhaps someone will figure out Danarius' process."

"Nothing is going to happen to her Fenris." She reached up to cradle his face. "Fen. If they come for her, if anyone ever tried to hurt her or the new baby or you they'd be dead before they could get close."

"Sometimes I still have dreams about it," he was almost inaudible. "They Danarius is here, looking for me. That we lost in the Hanged Man. That you didn't want to fight for me and let him take me back. Why would you?"

"Stop. Don't do that to yourself. I'll always fight for you. I'd do it all over again if I had to."

He smiled slightly at her. "I know. So would I." He put his forehead against hers. "I love you."

"I'm yours," she replied with a grin, placing his hand over her heart.

"Da! Look!"

They broke apart in time to see Perry looking around in confusion, a red streak across his muzzle. Mallory burst out laughing, as Fenris rescued the jar from Ava before she could decorate anything else, but that night when they put her in bed Mallory had to smother laughter again, all of her stuffed animals had been granted the nose smudge and Ava had refused to let them wipe hers, or their own, off.

"Look what you've started," Fenris said with mock disapproval as they settled into bed themselves, after all, as Mallory pointed out, no reason to sit around in the living room when she could be in bed.

"It's a family tradition."

"Did you father really wear one?"

"Only sometimes," Mallory said with a laugh. "I think it was to distract me when I was little. But he never talked about his family. Could be ancient Hawke magic."

"Ancient Hawke insanity more like."

"That too, but remember you're a Hawke now too," she nudged him in the side. "Better be careful."

He grinned and put an arm around her. "For the pleasure, I think I'll risk the insanity."