A/N: I was in the mood to write something a bit different so I started this not really knowing what I'd do with it. It turned out to be amazing fun! So much so that what I had originally intended to be a one shot will turn into two chapters. So here's the first one! Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 1

"Just mind your own business, Templar, and I'll mind mine." The Champion of Kirkwall spit his old occupation at him with more venom than he would have expected from someone he'd never even met before.

"Nice to meet you as well, Champion. It's an honor to have you at Griffon Wing. The name's Rylen, and I'll be the ex-Templar Inquisition officer in charge here for the duration of your stay." Rylen smiled, not bothering to hide his intrigued amusement. She scowled back at him and started gathering her packs while one of the stable hands took her horse. Rylen reached down to help her shoulder the heavier looking bags. She jerked away in annoyance and huffed.

"Oh, please! 'Ex-Templar'? I can still smell the lyrium on you, Templar." She snarled.

Rylen bristled and his smile vanished. The mage hit a nerve. He'd been trying. The Commander proved it could be done, so Maker help him, he'd been trying. His dose was painfully low and getting lower as often as he could tolerate it, which lately, with the heat of the desert and the hard work keeping things livable out here in the Maker's wasteland, wasn't very often.

"All the same, Serah Hawke, welcome." He turned on his heel and walked away.

xxxx

Fucking sandstorms, Hawke thought as she stood on the battlements looking out at miles of beige void. She'd tried three times now in the past two days to pack up and leave this Maker forsaken outpost but the storms thwarted her each time.

Who even cares? Just leave and if the sand swallows you whole, so what?

She was getting tired and the inactivity of waiting wasn't helping. She needed to keep moving, always moving, doing, fighting, running…

Hawke rubbed her eyes wearily and leaned over the wall to look down when she heard distant shouting. She saw the Knight-Captain who had greeted her when she arrived.

Rylen. If Varric hadn't warned her he was a Templar before she met him, she would have guessed anyway. He had the look about him even without the armor and frilly skirts. He was being very animated at the moment waving his arms around and yelling, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The men he was barking at scattered, presumably to follow the orders they'd just been given. When he was standing alone, Hawke saw him shake his head and rub his forehead with one gloved hand. When he looked back up, his eyes traveled all the way to the top of the fortress wall where Hawke stood looking down at him.

She straightened and retreated, not interested in finding out if he'd seen her.

xxxx

Rylen braced himself and threw back another shot of...whatever it was he was drinking. He'd never been picky about alcohol, which was a good thing out here. He leaned back in his chair and looked around Griffon Wing's makeshift canteen. They didn't have clean water, but they had a bar and booze. Priorities.

He let out a long sigh. He'd have to deal with the tainted well issue sooner rather than later. Hopefully before the wildlife reclaimed the place and all that was left of the Inquisition's farthest outpost were sun-dried bones and swords. For now, though, he was going to try and relax the rest of the evening. It was already late, but he knew sleep would elude him, so he was in no hurry to turn in.

A few of his soldiers entered and saluted him before they sat to indulge in their own drinks. He nodded back at them. At least he had good men around him here. Despite the less than hospitable surroundings and the long list of jobs that needed doing, he thanked the Maker again for giving him this command. He liked to keep busy and out here things were simple. No simpering nobles, no diplomats, no intrigue. Just how he liked it. Simple. An enemy? Kill it. A fire? Put it out. A demon? Smite it.

Smiting demons...fuck it all. Now you'll be thinking of lyrium the whole fucking night.

Another reason why he liked Griffon Wing. He'd had his fill of fighting demons. He was perfectly happy with the varghests and spiders, thanks very much. Very little here required him to call on his Templar abilities. It was probably the only reason he'd been able to cut the contents of his lyrium philter as much as he had.

Still so far to go though…

He sighed again and poured himself another shot from the unlabeled bottle of spirits sitting on the table in front of him. Just as he finished it, savoring the burn and the nice numb feeling it left in his head, someone new walked in.

All the eyes in the room turned to see the Champion of Kirkwall, covered in sand, standing in the doorway. She had a mean frown on her face as she walked inside, dusting herself off. She sat down at an empty table and looked around the room, waving over one of the barmaids for a drink.

Why the void not? Rylen thought as he rose and picked up his bottle and his glass. The room spun for a moment before he balanced himself. Huh. Drunk. Reason enough I suppose. He intercepted Hawke's drink order, grabbed an empty glass and sat down at her table. She looked angry at his intrusion but she didn't say anything. He poured them both a drink from his bottle.

"Try to leave again, Champion?" He asked, sipping at the shot this time instead of pounding it. He might already be drunk but there was no need to get sloppy.

"I'll be gone soon enough, Templar, these storms can't last forever." She sounded tired, but not the kind of tired that would be helped by sleep.

"You can stay as long as you like, Hawke." He tried to sound sincere. He was sincere. She looked like someone who needed a break, needed to rest. He knew what that looked like. Maker, he knew what that felt like. Isn't that why Cullen had sent him out here in the first place? The Commander had seen it in him. He needed a change of pace. Somewhere less complicated but still challenging. Somewhere he could try to break free…

"Where are you headed to so urgently anyway, if I may ask?"

At first, Hawke looked like she wasn't going to answer, but eventually she drank her shot and spoke. "I'm trying to get to Weisshaupt to help what's left of the Wardens there." Her voice sounded small, not at all having the bluster she'd used since she arrived. There was a story there, but he wasn't about to pry it out of her.

"That's a long ways away." He commented while he poured her another drink. "This might be the last civilized place you come to until you reach your destination." He winked at her.

To his surprise, she actually smiled at his sarcasm. "I just don't like being so idle. I hate sitting here doing nothing waiting for the storms to pass."

Rylen knew he might regret it but, at this point, the alcohol was talking more than he was. With a mischievous glint in his eyes he offered her a job. "Care to help us kill some things while you wait?"

xxxx

Hawke pulled the blade of her staff free from the burning varghest at her feet. This was the best she'd felt in days.

Despite the wicked hangover she had from whatever it was the Knight-Captain had given her to drink last night, she felt energized. She met Rylen and a few of his men at dawn to assist them in clearing out some local vermin from a nearby creek. There was nothing like a good fight to pull her out of a funk.

She was glad to be given the opportunity to do something with herself, but not glad enough to actually thank the Templar for offering it to her. She was helping them, after all.

Rylen was wiping his sword clean when he addressed the group. "I want to tackle that last cave with the spiders before we head back. There's enough of us. Champion, do you feel up to it?"

Hawke froze. Fucking Spiders.

"Of course." She lied. "Lead the way."

xxxx

If he hadn't seen it himself, he never would have guessed it. The Champion of Kirkwall, slayer of the Arishok, battle mage, adventurer and all around dangerous fucker was scared of spiders.

He didn't think the other men could tell, she hid it so well, but there was no way she could disguise it from him. He had three sisters and he and his older brother were merciless pranksters. Many a multi-legged critter had ended up under sheets, inside dressers and placed strategically atop dolls to the point where there was so much phobia cultivated in his household that even if he hadn't wanted to join the Templars his parents might have sent him just to get him out of the house and have some peace from screaming girls.

Despite her fear, Hawke didn't miss a beat. She contributed, killed as many of the creatures as the rest of them, used her magic to heal a few minor injuries and then stood as stoic as possible with a white knuckled death grip on her staff while waiting for direction.

Rylen decided to handle things delicately. "I want the rest of you to clean up these corpses then head back to the keep. We don't need them attracting any more animals. Serah Hawke and I will head back now and stop back at the oasis to take care of the varghest bodies. Good work all."

His men nodded and started piling up the dead spiders to burn. Hawke remained standing still. Rylen came up to her, gently put his hand on her arm and guided her out of the cave into the sweltering sun. She was trembling slightly under his touch. She allowed him to lead her away from the spiders but once they were clear of the cave, she snatched her arm back and sat down on the ground, letting out a shaky breath.

Rylen sat down on a rock, a respectable distance away and gave her time to collect herself. "Sorry about that. If I'd know you didn't care for spiders, I wouldn't have dragged you along. You could have said something though, you know."

When she stood up, she was the Champion again. "Fuck you." She snarled, then turned and stormed off.

He smiled and watched the angry sway of her hips as she walked away. He tried to remember the last time he'd been so intrigued by a woman and the answer he came up with was never.

xxxx

Five weeks. Five weeks had passed with one impediment after another keeping her at Griffon Wing. When the storms finally cleared, there were problems with more varghests, then wyverns, supply lines, provisions and finally, dragons. Despite the spider incident, she found herself tagging along with Rylen and his men whenever they ventured outside the keep to kill things.

She admitted she was beginning to tolerate the Griffon Wing's Templar commander. At first she likened it to the same way she tolerated Cullen back in Kirkwall. They were both good men, good leaders, but if she was honest with herself, she much preferred Rylen as a person and though she wasn't quite ready to admit it she was growing to like the man.

He had an ease about him, informal, irreverent, practical. She appreciated practicality. And where 'Curly', as Varric now called him, was always so painfully pretty, Rylen was very different. Hawke had had enough of pretty blonds to last her a lifetime. Rylen's rugged exterior and demeanor to match made him much more tolerable than most Templars she'd had the misfortune of knowing. And he had the bluest eyes...

xxxx

It had become a 'regular thing' for Hawke to join him for a drink on the nights they returned to the keep from a cleanup job but tonight, Hawke was nowhere to be found and Rylen had already finished half a bottle of very questionable purple liquor. They never spoke about much. A few pleasantries here and there, which for Hawke meant not outright insulting him. They would both back away and choose instead to nurse their drink and be silent when the conversation threatened to become more intimate.

He learned her brother was a warden, which was likely her impetus for involving herself with them. She didn't speak very much of her brother, but if he remembered correctly from that book Varric wrote, the man never made it back to Kirkwall, having joined the wardens after Hawke's trip into the deep roads.

Rylen actually owned his own copy of Tale of the Champion. In fact, he'd taken it right out of the Commander's hands and saved it from an ignoble end in the fire. Cullen had grumbled at the time that it 'wasn't much of a read' which made Rylen want to read it more if only to see what Varric had to say that Cullen clearly wanted to burn. After all that, however, he found the book lacking in any embarrassing stories about the Commander and instead found the whole thing rather sad.

He didn't consider life constantly shitting on someone much of an adventure and he certainly didn't consider it a great romance that someone Hawke had supposedly loved, if Varric was to be believed, betrayed her as the mage Anders had. But maybe that was just him liking his relationships a little less angst filled and a great deal less complicated.

After spending these past few weeks with Hawke, Rylen wondered how she lived through it all. She seemed...more like him, and less like any of the things he'd heard about her from other sources, 'trouble-starter' being among the most frequent appellations. Then again, maybe that's why she was so prickly about everything. If he'd had to deal with half the shitstorm drama that Varric described in his book, he'd be lashing out at everyone too and with a lot more than just a scathing bit of sarcasm.

He decided to go and find her. Picking up the bottle and two glasses, he left the canteen.

xxxx

Rylen found her on the battlements. She crumpled the letter in her fist and shoved it in her pocket. Tears were wiped away and she turned to face the sand dunes, hoping he didn't need anything from her. She wasn't in the mood for company.

Sadly, her luck had never been that good. He came up and stood right next to her, placing a half empty bottle of purple alcohol on the wall in front of her. He was about to set two glasses down also, but then he looked at her face, looked at the glasses, then tossed them over the side of the keep.

"You look like you're not really in the mood for glasses, so why don't you just drink out of the bottle. I took care of the top half. You can have the rest."

He leaned on the wall, looking out at the dark horizon and didn't say another word. She considered walking away. She wanted to be alone.

Do you really want to be alone? Isn't that the problem?

She didn't respond to the conspiratorial voice in her head, but she did take the bottle and start drinking. And she stayed. By the time she emptied the thing a long while later, she was drunk and Rylen was still standing next to her, silent.

She held the neck of the empty bottle, backed up, took aim and hurled the thing out into the night, aiming for the distant moons. On another foolish impulse she took the crumpled letter from her pocket and hurled that off into the distance as well.

"Bad news in that letter, I take it?" Rylen finally spoke.

"Just news. Nothing I didn't already know. Now I just know for sure." What was she doing? She had no intentions of sharing her business with a Templar. And yet, she found herself unable to stop. "My brother, the warden. I had assumed when I couldn't contact him...there really wasn't any hope…" She closed her eyes against new tears that threatened to fall. "I got confirmation that he's dead." Swiping at her running nose, she scrambled back into her fort of emotional defenses that for reasons unknown to her had momentarily crumbled in the face of an easy going ex-Templar who looked just as tired as she did. "Anyway, as I said, I already knew."

Hawke turned to make a hasty retreat, but Rylen caught her arm. She neither pulled away nor offered a biting insult. She just looked down and stared at his hand.

"I don't know how badly the wardens need your help, but you've been helpful here and we could use you. If you stayed." His hand fell from her and he looked away back out at the sand. "This is hardly a mansion in Kirkwall, but I suppose it's been awhile since you lived like that. At least this is far away from everything. Back there."

Rylen nodded his head in a nonspecific direction "back there", indicating the rest of the world outside this oasis in the desert.

"It's quiet here despite all the shit we've had to deal with. I like that. Makes things easier. Especially when…"

He stopped. And Hawke found herself wanting to hear more of what he was going to say.

"Well, anyway, consider staying. This isn't such a bad place for the Champion of Kirkwall to spend some time. Maybe she'll find some peace." The last was mumbled under his breath as he walked away, but she heard it.

xxxx

"Commander, good to see you. Hope you and the Inquisitor had a nice ride through the dunes and rocks. The barren wastes are lovely this time of year." Rylen waved his arm out at the vastness of the desert.

Cullen snorted. "Yes, and the local fauna are so very welcoming. We only got attacked six times since we left camp and that last pack of hyenas didn't really seem to have their heart in trying to eat us."

"Troops are ready for inspection whenever you are, ser."

"It can wait until the Inquisitor has settled in. She's interested in seeing everything you've accomplished in so short a time. We had a little bet about it. I won."

Rylen laughed. "Please tell me you were betting on me and not against me?"

"Of course I bet on you. I knew you could whip this place into shape in no time. The hard part was getting Evelyn and Leliana to abandon the ridiculous idea they had of preserving every indigenous beast in the Approach no matter how dangerous. You can thank me later for saving you time and giving the order to clear the animals out."

"I definitely owe you for that then."

Cullen was about to speak again when his eye caught sight of something behind Rylen. Someone, actually. He squinted in the sunlight. "Is that…?"

Rylen turned to follow the Commander's gaze. "Mmhm. Marian Hawke. She's been here several weeks now, passing through on her way to Weisshaupt. She's been very helpful with all the work of making this place safe and livable. Quite the fighter. She really is as dauntless as they say." As long as there aren't any spiders.

"She's been 'passing through' for several weeks? You never sent word Hawke was here. When is she leaving?"

"Well, she's been trying to leave since she arrived but sandstorms held her up for a while and then a few other things. I'm ah...I'm not sure when she'll be on her way." Unless she stays…

Cullen frowned suspiciously. "Did she ask you to keep her presence here a secret? Nothing is straightforward where Hawke is concerned."

"Not at all, Commander. I just got the impression that she might not want it advertised. She's a more private person than people realize given her history in the public eye." And she needed some breathing space.

"Have you...gotten to know her well?" Cullen looked at him curiously.

Not as well as I'd like.

"No, Commander. Not really."

xxxx

This time, it was Hawke who sat drinking alone. She hid in the shadows of a corner table staring at her cup. She'd barely made it two sips into her ale when she redirected her stare at the door.

Each time it opened to reveal someone other than Rylen she would look away and shift in her seat, meaning to get up and leave but then she'd settle back in and lift her eyes once again to the door.

They hadn't gone out on any odd jobs that day. There was no reason to think they would be meeting for their requisite drink but still, there she sat. She reasoned his absence meant he was probably with Cullen and the Inquisitor. Hawke saw them arrive earlier in the day and had subsequently made herself scarce trying to avoid them. She should have long been off and out of Inquisition territory. She should have long been out of any charted territory, so as to spare the rest of civilized Thedas her black cloud. Nothing good had ever come from her presence. For all she knew, the Maker was only cursing poor Rylen with spiders and varghests to spite her and not him.

He didn't seem to mind though, neither the unruly beasts nor her presence, not that she hadn't been acting any less surly than the beasts. In fact, nothing seemed to bother him. Not the inhospitable climate, not the never ending hard work and not her rude exchanges with him. He was easygoing and steady, quiet but always ready with a laugh and a smile for his men and for her. He was very different from what she'd come to expect in an acquaintance. Friend?

He sought nothing from her, asked nothing of her. He knew who she was but he didn't seem to care about her history or her money or her magic. She found herself wondering over a new state of mind she seemed to be in these past few weeks working with him. She wasn't trying to help anyone or save them. She wasn't trying to prove anything. She wasn't responsible for anything. It was...easy. And...nice. And she was starting to feel like a different person, someone she actually liked, who didn't have to be so many things to so many people. Someone who could just be.

She abruptly decided she didn't want to be someone who sat alone in a bar, so she got up and went to find Rylen.

Hawke knew he kept an office, though he never seemed to be in it. He was always with his men or out in the field. It wasn't late enough for him to have retired so she decided to check the office first in case he was discussing business with Cullen.

Hawke knocked on the door and peeked her head inside after a voice from within called out for her to enter. Cullen did happen to be in the office, but he was alone.

"I...uh...I was just looking for Rylen." She said hastily then started to back out of the doorway not wanting to have to say anything more to the 'former' Templar she once knew, who once knew her.

"Hawke, wait!"

No such luck. She rolled her eyes, irritated for having put herself in this stupid position when only moment ago she'd been feeling good and not weighed down by the past as much as usual. She should know by now the past would always find her. Flinging the door open, she bit out, "What?"

Cullen held up his hands in a gesture of peace and offered a small smile. His voice was softer when he spoke again. "I just wanted to say hello and thank you for all your assistance here. Rylen is grateful for it and he's not a man easily impressed. Although you always did know how to get a job done and that's a quality he both appreciates and shares."

Hawke smoothed down her raised hackles but she remained silent. Cullen nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "If you need to speak with him, I believe he took a walk outside the keep. While I'm here I wanted to give him a break. He is…"

The Commander had been about to say something but then he stopped and seemed to search for different words. He opted for something vague. "He's been under a great deal of strain. There are things he's dealing with that I have experience with. He needed a night off, but also speaking from experience, he may not want to be alone, so if you still want to go and find him…" His voice drifted off and it was quiet in the small room until Hawke spoke.

"I...I guess I will go look for him. Thanks Knight-Cap…" She stopped herself. "Thanks, Cullen." Hawke decided to extend herself just a bit more. "It's nice to see you looking well."

"And you Hawke." They nodded amicably at one another, perhaps more amicably than they ever had in their past, and she left. It was only after she shut the door and was several steps down the corridor that she realized the ex-Templar Inquisition Commander didn't smell like lyrium.

xxxx

Rylen discharged a holy smite at the giant boulder in front of him. Despite the fact that nights in the desert were every bit as cold as they were in Ferelden, he wore nothing but his leather trousers and boots, and even then he was sweating as if the sun was beating down. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, his shoulders hurt, his arms hurt and his chest burned with so many convoluted emotions, he took Cullen up on his offer, order more like, to take a night off. He'd wandered around for little while, tried to lay down in bed, tried to eat, but nothing was helping him relax or forget.

He thought he'd been doing well and had even managed to lower his dose the previous week, but it always seemed to catch up to him at some point and he would end up like this. Tired, frustrated, aching, angry, wanting, craving…

He growled and shook his head trying to interrupt the stream of unproductive thoughts. Squaring up again, he extended a hand, stared down the big rock and let loose again with his powers. The ground beneath him shook with the force of his attack and parts of the stone cracked and crumbled away.

Despite his dwindling lyrium dose, his Templar abilities hadn't changed or weakened. It was as if, in the absence of lyrium, the Templar in him would consume the part of him that was Rylen before it surrendered itself to insignificance.

He didn't know why he felt the need to come out here and repeatedly discharge his power into an innocent rock. He knew it was still there, he didn't need to test it. He also knew that no matter how many times he did it, it wouldn't make it go away. He couldn't purge it out of his system. Doing this would just make him tired and make his craving worse in the end. Yet here he was.

He lifted his hand and felt the tingle of force in his fingertips but before he could strike out with it, someone shouted at him. He turned quickly, ready to let the attack fly if whoever was approaching was a threat. Instead of an enemy, however, he was met by Hawke, her arms held up and her magic crackling around her.

"Put down that smite you're holding, it's only me." She said calmly, despite the swell of her own powers.

Rylen quickly lowered his hands. "Hawke, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I wasn't…" He took a deep breath and tried to relax. "Do you need something? Is everything alright?"

Hawke also lowered her hands. "Actually, I came out here to ask you that. I wasn't expecting a demonstration of how effective you still are at silencing a mage." He was about to respond, but she immediately looked contrite and stopped him by retracting her statement. "No. Wait. That wasn't what I meant. I just meant…" She rolled her eyes, groaned, and then sighed. He could relate to how she felt.

"It's fine, Hawke, I'm not offended." He wasn't. He was just tired and now he was also aggravated at himself for letting his childish frustrations get the better of him and getting caught in the process.

"Yes, well, you should be offended. I'm offensive. I always have been." She was looking down at the ground. "I don't mean it, but it's…"

"It's hard. I know." He didn't need for her to explain. He couldn't make out her expression in the scant moonlight that was filtered through a few passing clouds, but he watched as she reached into her jacket, pulled out a flask and handed it to him.

"It isn't alcohol. It's a healing draught. You wouldn't think it, but I'm not bad at cooking up some decent potions. I learned a lot from…" She stopped herself before she said his name. She didn't need to say it and she didn't seem to want to say it. "Anyway, I promise it will help."

Help? Does she know…?

Before he could make an excuse, she continued. "I ran into Cullen. He's off of it, isn't he? Did he order all the Templars off the stuff?"

"Maker, no!" Rylen shook his head vehemently. "He would never impose that kind of order. Even though most of us wish he would…" He took the flask from Hawke, uncorked it and took a test sip. Amazingly, it was delicious. It tasted of citrus and honey.

She must have seen the appreciation on his face for not giving him something that tasted like piss and elfroot. She winked at him. "Told you I was good."

He couldn't help but laugh.

"Look, if you don't want to talk about this with me, you don't have to, I just thought that would help, so I hope it does. I'll, um, just say good night then." She turned to walk away but he stopped her.

"I've been cutting back my dose in increments. It's a long process. The Commander, he just stopped, but fucking void, I don't know how he did it because this is...this is just…" Words that expressed the magnitude of the struggle he was imposing upon himself didn't exist. At least not in the state of mind he was in right now.

Hawke made a disgusted noise. "I know how he did it. He's a stubborn bastard who's too big a goody goody pain in the arse to die. He probably prayed his way through the withdrawals, the self-righteous dick."

"He and I are friends, you know." Rylen replied blandly.

"Sorry." She didn't seem sorry. "Anyway, I've seen what it looks like to come off it. For what it's worth, I didn't know you were trying, but now that I do, I have to say, I didn't think it would be possible to do it with such fortitude and grace."

The clouds cleared in that moment and bright light from the moons shone across her face. Rylen saw something there he hadn't seen before. He'd wondered. He'd hoped. He'd sat patiently outside her formidable defenses. And now he saw it in her eyes.

Honesty.

He slowly walked over to her. His heart was racing, but he made an excuse to himself that it was from his previous exertions. He came to stand before her. She looked up at him, silent, not moving, allowing a Templar who was trying not to be one inside her space. He could feel her magic move and sway around her like a soft breeze. She wasn't hiding it, but neither was she flaunting it. She was being honest with it.

The taste of her potion still on his lips complimented the subtle sweet waft of scent from her hair that he was close enough to notice. Thoughts of lyrium still buzzed at the back of his mind and the song of it still pulsed in his blood, but for the moment, it was less loud, less insistent. If this was the result of being near her, the real her, he wanted to learn more.

He smiled and extended his hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Marian. My name is Rylen."