Just Like You
A/N: Have some midweek Dad!Fenris, Mom!Hawke, because I’m tired of studying.
Characters: Mallory Hawke, Fenris, introducing Ava Hawke
Genre: Family, fluff, hurt/comfort
Summary: All this quiet is starting to drive Hawke insane, luckily between her broody elf and his mini me that’s their daughter things are never completely boring.
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.