Maker, he hated Kirkwall.

He would have thought that it could not possibly be so bad. It was not as cold as Ferelden and it was free of darkspawn, Wade had promised him. His uncle had a promising smithy in Hightown; he just needed a little help with the increase in population.

"Just think," his husband had promised him, "We'll spend a few years there, gain some coin while Ferelden rebuilds. There's more nobility there...and think of the new materials!"

Herren liked to pretend that he had had a choice in the matter, but he knew whenever Wade made his mind up there was no stopping him.

It had not been terrible at first. Wade's uncle Olaf was a kind man, even though Herren could barely understand his accent. They had their own apartment over his house and Herren was enjoying being able to leave his windows open without the smell of wet dog.

First, Olaf grew sick and needed the two of them to help more so in the store. If this had been the sole reason for their remaining in Kirkwall, Herren would have been a happy man. Family had always been important to him and stability was a pleasant thing after having already lived through two wars.

But then...then there was her.

Herren looked up angrily as the door ringed open and a group clad in armour appeared.

"Hi," a petite woman said as she came up to the counter, "Is Wade here?"

"No," Herren lied, "He's busy in the-"

"Hawke! Darling!"

Wade skipped out of his work studio, carrying a breastplate over his shoulder.

"Now this will look stunning on that archer friend of yours," Wade confided, brushing off a bit of soot, "Something a bit more decent than wearing our Lady herself on his crouch. Darling, you must convince him to come in for some proper leggings. It's only an embarrassment to himself as well as the Chantry."

Hawke smiled, "I'll try, but he seems to be rather fond of the outfit. I have another commission for you, if you're interested."

"No!" Herren threw his arms up, "No, no, no. Hawke, we are three months behind on armour orders. The Carta will throw us out on the street!"

"Herren," Wade chided, "We have company, behave yourself."

Herren fumed, glancing dirtily at the rest of her party, "Are any of you going to spend any money today? Or are you just here to look useless?"

The taller elf coughed slightly and said, "Perhaps I could use a new blade."

"It's you!" Wade gasped, tossing the breastplate to Hawke as he leaped to Fenris' side, "I've had a new thought about your gauntlets. Now, you must tell me, how does it work during the actual phasing? Because if the lyrium stays solid, then we should-"

Herren covered Wade's mouth with his hand, leading him away. He could still hear Wade's questioning and Herren shrugged apologetically, "Sorry. I have a new greatsword from Starkhaven. Lovely blade, I think you'll find it will suit you well. I'll have it sent to the manor. If you are finished your orders, I think it's time for us to get back to work."

He let go of Wade who stuck his tongue out at him. The door chimed again as it closed and Wade pouted.

"She's our best client," he argued, "Can't I schmooze a little? Can't I chat? You'll keep me chained to the iron making platemail all our lives."

"She's one client," Herren reminded, "Remember what happened when the Warden stopped coming to Denerim? Remember when we ate gruel and drank rainwater for two months?"

"Money isn't everything," Wade replied, "This is art."

"Love," Herren said softer, "I know you are so talented and you make such beautiful pieces. But we have your uncle to think of too now. And-"

"I know, we have to get enough coin to move us all back to Ferelden. I don't know why you want to go back so badly. Denerim was such a sad city to begin with. Can you imagine what it's like now? Or Amaranthine? This is the nicest place we've been in years."

"And even here there might be war. Who knows when the Qunari will have enough? This isn't a safe place for us...for you."

Wade smiled, embracing his slightly struggling husband, "Oh, you soft little thing. My little little hubby. We're both tougher than you always think."

Herren relaxed into his form and muttered, "I don't want to lose you...to a war...or some piece of leather."

Wade chuckled and Herren smiled slightly, curling under his chin. Maybe he didn't need Ferelden. Maybe he just needed this.