Author's note: I found myself a little unsatisfied with the game ending when siding with the templars. I think my Hawke would rather have been run out of the city than rule it. This is just my little attempt to bring that ending around to a more satisfying conclusion for my particular character. Please enjoy - this story doesn't exactly play to my strengths (action scenes, oh noes!), but I hope you like it anyway.

FORWARD

Bodyguard and secret lover to the Viscountess of Kirkwall.

Didn't see that one coming.

The last decade of my life has been...bizarre. I have plenty of time to think back over it now, cooling my heels at whatever ridiculous state event the nobles of Kirkwall have cooked up for Hawke to attend this time, and of all the places I thought I might end up when I escaped Danarius, this wasn't even close to being on the list.

Occasionally I wonder what my life would have been like if I had left Kirkwall after that first night we spent together, instead of lingering here for three years of awkward conversations, longing looks, and embarrassing inquiries.

I'd be alone. That much is certain. Or dead. I might still have tracked my sister and been caught in Danarius' trap. Or I might have simply continued wandering all over Thedas, always looking over my shoulder for the next hunter, or at my feet for the next trap in the path.

I suppose the way things are isn't so bad. So I try to convince myself, anyway.

Most of the nobles are so used to seeing me at Hawke's back that they don't even notice me anymore. I don't think most of them believe the rumors about the Viscountess's passionate love affair with her elven bodyguard. Or maybe they do, and they just don't care what she does in her spare time, as long as she plays the part in public. The latter is more likely. Hawke is not the most discreet woman in Thedas.

I think flaunting our relationship has become part of her personal rebellion. She didn't expect this, either. That's the hardest part, watching her struggle. She never wanted this, and she's not particularly suited for it. For all her quick thinking and force of personality, she really isn't a politician. She can play the game when she must, but Hawke would much rather settle things with a fireball than a filibuster.

At least our sex life hasn't suffered for her appointment here. Now that she's no longer free to hunt bandits and blood mages, her options for relieving tension are limited. Being one of those options is the only real perk of this arrangement, as far as I'm concerned. The worse her day, the better my night.

I can see the tension growing in her shoulders even now, the white knuckles on the arm of her chair, and I can't help the thrill of anticipation in my body. I'm a little ashamed to be so pleased at her frustration, but it's been three days since I returned from my last job and we haven't had a moment together yet. I've missed her.

Her head turns, just slightly, not enough to be noticeable to the person droning on in front of her, but enough to let me know she is thinking of me.

This damn meeting can't end soon enough.

I'm distracted from my thoughts all at once by a sense of wrongness that I can't immediately identify. My eyes scan the nobles. Nothing there. I listen, tuning out the prattle, the whispers, the common noises of the council room.

A moment later, certain of my direction, I slip away. It's a gamble to leave Hawke unguarded. If I'm wrong about where the assassin is, he could use my absence to strike.

Hawke is no simple court flower, however, so I put the risk out of my mind and alert the two guards standing outside the council chamber. The man is on the balcony at the back of the chamber, hardly ever used except when members of some guild or other wish to watch the debates. There are two entrances. I send the guards to one, and go to the other, drawing my sword. The door is normally kept bolted, but today it swings open easily under my hand.

I can see the assassin crouched in the darkness, taking aim with what looks to be some sort of crossbow. He sees me at once, however, and whirls to target me. I was not made for subtlety. The bolt rings off my blade and I charge. The close quarters work against me, but the assassin makes a mistake - instead of getting past me, he bolts for the second balcony entrance, and runs right into the guardsmen on the other side. They are caught by surprise but Aveline trained them well. They have the man subdued in moments.

The commotion has caught the attention of the council. I walk to the rail, make a bow to Hawke, and retreat, closing the door behind me. Hawke will know the signal for what it is - "Problem solved. Carry on."

I almost feel like I should thank the assassin, for getting me out of the meeting early.

I accompany the guards as they carry the man to a cell in the dregs of the keep. Once we're there, I order them out. The assassin stands up, looks at me warily, but I wait until the guards have locked the door. As soon as I hear the click, I cross the room in two sides, magic surging through my flesh as I move, and plunge my hand into the assassin's chest. He lets out a howl of pain and fear, one I'm quite familiar with.

"The Viscountess does not approve of torture," I hiss. "Unfortunately for you, she's not here." I twist, and he howls again. "Who sent you?"

This one's a professional. He locks his teeth, staring past my shoulder. My eyes narrow slightly. I squeeze a little harder. I have to be careful. Causing pain in this way without killing is not as easy as one might think. Most people give in quickly, but this man holds out longer than most.

"Starkhaven," he gasps at last.

My eyebrows shoot up. "Sebastian's people?"

"Not the King. Enemies," he gasps. "Afraid of an alliance. Influence on the King. State marriage. Please, let me go!"

I'm not sure that I believe him, but I let him slump to the floor. I debate whether it's best to go ahead and kill him, but I decide Hawke may want to speak with him. I rap my metal gauntlet on the door and a guard comes to let me out.

"Watch this one closely," I say when I'm out. "Believe nothing he tells you. If he claims he is dying in his cell, let him." The guardsman nods. I step close to him. "If he escapes and the Viscountess is harmed, I will hold you personally responsible," I tell him softly. He appears unmoved but I can see him sweat. Satisfied, I turn away, heading back to the audience hall. Aveline would not approve of the threat, but she can be a little blind where her guards are concerned, and I'm taking no chances.

The counsel session is just dismissing when I reach the chamber. I wait for the stream of people to pass, knowing Hawke will be the last one out. My prediction turns out to be not entirely accurate, as she's trailed by a chattering nobleman too stupid to read the impatience in her face. When she sees me she veers away from him without a word, leaving him gaping at her retreating figure. Despite the circumstances, I can't keep back a smile.

"Tell me while we walk," she says, and I fall into step beside her. I repeat the assassin's information as we make our way towards the Viscount's private rooms.

"Assassins from Starkhaven," she says in disgust. "What does our dear un-exiled prince think he's doing up there? He must be having trouble securing the city if he's thinking of an alliance with Kirkwall." We walk into her receiving room and she doesn't stop, heading straight for the bedroom. "Out," she says, jerking her head towards the door. The servant who was fussing over the fire moves with admirable haste, and as soon as the door shuts behind him Hawke has turned on her heel and her mouth is crushed against mine.

"Apparently they fear a state marriage," I say, turning my head to free my mouth. "Hawke, this is important," I sigh, though her lips are on my neck now and I really don't want her to stop. I can't help but grin when she utters a Tevinter curse.

"I'll marry Sebastian over your dead body," she gripes.

"Don't let your nobles hear you say that, or the assassins will be after me next."

She pulls away from me. "Don't even joke about it," she said, looking at me with her brows drawn together. "It's too close to the truth to be funny." She touches my face, runs her fingers across my lips.

For years I avoided touch at all costs. Now I can't get enough of hers.

"Hawke," I sigh, pulling her hips against mine. "Shut up."

She does, although when I kiss her she holds back for a moment to let me know this conversation is not over. She gives in once her point his made, however, and we're both glad to leave matters of state behind for a few hours.

It's good to know she missed me too.

Afterward, she sighs, her head pillowed on my chest. "I'm miserable, Fenris."

I raise my eyebrows. "Shall I try again?"

"Not what I meant," she says, lifting her head to glare at me, and it's good to hear the humor in her voice, but it only lasts a moment. "I meant I'm miserable here. And so are you, I can tell."

I'm not really sure where she's going with this, so I try to make light of it. "Some days aren't so bad," I say, trailing my fingers down her back. She frowns.

"I thought you at least were the one person I could trust to be honest with me."

I wince, stung. "What do you wish to do?" I ask, rolling on my side to face her.

"I want to leave," she says, her voice barely audible. I search her eyes and know that she is serious. She is admitting defeat, and it is difficult for her. "There's no future for us here, Fenris. We'll never be able to have a normal life together, or a family."

I frown slightly. I wasn't aware that was even anything she wanted. We've never discussed it. It's on the tip of my tongue to ask what brought this on when she sighs, "Aveline is pregnant."

"When did she tell you that?"

"She didn't. When I healed that gash on her arm the other day, I could tell. Anyway, it just got me to thinking how happy she is with Donnic, and what a great partnership they have, and I feel like I've been unfair to you, asking you to put your entire life on hold and just hang around in my shadow. You're not happy, and I'm definitely not happy, and it just seems stupid to sacrifice what we have for something I never even wanted." She sighs again. "I want to get out of here."

"Then we shall," I say. "Settle whatever affairs you need to, and then let me know. I'll take care of the rest."

"Fenris-"

"Enough. Trust me, Hawke. I'm an expert at running away."

She smiles, and then slides up against me, tucking her head under my chin. "I'll leave it to you," she whispers. It's impossibly sweet. I put my arms around her and squeeze, trying to let her know she can trust me. But I can tell that she does. For the first time in nearly a year, her body is totally relaxed in my arms, and soon she is breathing deeply.

She is right. There is no future for us here together. When I think of the future, all I see is an endless stretch of years that can only end in heartbreak for one or both of us. Running away, building a new life together, one where we don't have to worry about discretion, one where we could actually discuss starting a family. My mind shies away from the thought, not quite ready for the idea, but it irks me that it can't even be considered under the current circumstances.

It's not often that she asks for help. Since the day we met, I feel as though she has given me everything, and I have done nothing but take. Now at last I have a chance to repay her, and I vow to myself that I will not let her down.

"Get up," I say, walking into the assassin's cell. I look at the guardsman. "Give me the key and leave us."

He starts to object, but I hold out my hand. He gives half an exasperated sigh, and then drops the key in my palm and walks away. I turn back to the assassin.

"Something you want?" he says, eying me warily.

"Yes," I say softly. "You're going to kill the Viscountess."

His eyebrows shoot up so fast I'm surprised that they don't fly off his head. I hand him a roughly drawn map. "Take this path into the keep. Memorize the route and then destroy the paper. I don't want any traces. I'll make sure the route isn't heavily guarded."

He frowned. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"You don't. Refuse, and I'll kill you right now," I say with a shrug. "Your choice."

He licks his lips nervously, clearly thinking it over. "All right," he says after a moment.

"One more thing," I say, stepping close, threatening. "No casualties. No killing, and no permanent damage to the guards or anyone else."

He makes a face. "That's asking an awful lot."

"This is the price of your freedom," I tell him, stepping back. "Once you've done as I asked, you're free to leave. Not only will you keep your worthless life, but your reputation will be made."

I can see a greedy light in his eyes as this dawns on him. Hawke is not an easy mark. To pull off an assassination in the middle of the viscount's palace, and escape unscathed - that is the kind of job that can make an assassin's career.

Not that I expect this one to live long enough to enjoy it. He's good, but not the kind of good that keeps you alive once your competitors know your name. There are plenty who would be quick to usurp his glory by killing the man who killed the Champion of Kirkwall.

Not my concern, though. As long as he lives long enough to do the job, I'll be satisfied.

As I come up through the guard barracks, Donnic corners me. "Fenris. Can we talk for a moment?"

I keep back a sigh but change direction to follow the man. He leads me to Aveline's office and shuts the door. "Hawke came to see Aveline this morning. To say goodbye."

I wait.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Donnic says, looking at me hard. "It's a lot to give up."

"For her," I say with a shrug. "Not for me. She wants a normal life, Donnic. I don't know if that's possible for two such as we, but I'll give her the best that I can."

"Still-"

All at once I am angry, feelings I have been repressing for most of a year bubbling to the surface. "Donnic, look at me. I am a commoner, an elf and a foreigner. I would never be accepted as the Viscountess' consort. Do you think the nobles will accept my child on the Viscount's seat?"

Donnic opens his mouth and shuts it again at once.

"Or do you think I should stand by and watch her be wedded to another?" I add tartly. "So that none will know whether her child would be mine or his?"

He shakes his head. "Of course not, Fenris. I can't imagine any man who could do such a thing."

"I will not give her up to any man," I spit, "Nor to Kirkwall. The City will manage without her."

Donnic bows his head. "Then I wish you luck, my friend. I hope you will find happiness together."

My anger drains away. Donnic has been one of my best friends in this city these past few years and I don't wish to part with him on poor terms. "I wish you happiness as well. Congratulations are due, I believe." I can see his surprise, and smirk. "Hawke told me."

"It is very early," Donnic said, looking embarrassed. "We didn't wish to say anything until we were sure. So much can happen these first few months."

"You owe me no explanation, friend. I wish you the best. Farewell, and be happy." A normal man would offer his hand, but I can't bring myself to it, even after all this time.

Donnic nods, with a quiet smile. "I wish the same to you and Hawke, Fenris."

Two days later, Hawke and I are strolling along Sundermount in the moonlight when there's a bright flash in the distance behind us. It's a flimsy attempt at faking death, as such things go, but by the time the assassin's flame grenade burns itself out, and they realize there are no bodies in the room, we'll be long gone. Whatever the nobles think will only be speculation. Hawke's rivals will be quick enough to dismiss her as dead, as long as it leaves the Viscount's seat empty.

We are free.

"Well," Hawke says, taking a deep breath. "Where shall we go now?"

"Forward," I reply, squeezing her hand. "We can work out the rest of the details later."