"Blighted Qunari… Blighted demons… Blighted sand…" Marian sat on a rock and dumped at least a third of the Wounded Coast out of her boots yet again. She glared at Fenris, Anders, and Sebastian. "How do you keep sand from getting into your boots? I mean, Fenris only has footwraps so I imagine it just falls out, but you two!"

"Unlike some people present, I pick up my feet when I walk, instead of shuffling," Anders sniffed.

Fenris snorted, then held out a hand to help Hawke back to her feet, which instantly sunk back into the sand again. She could feel the grains seeping back into her boots already. Sebastian simply smiled and said, "It's a secret. I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you."

"As if you could. Save it for the blasted demons," she grumbled in annoyance as they picked their way back to the camp where Merrill, Aveline, Isabela, and Varric waited. The dull brown of the Coast was baking in the August sun, and Hawke had a moment of longing for Lothering, and the cold waters of the river beyond the northern fields. Bethany, Carver, and she had spent many a summer splashing about after the work was done. Bethany… All Souls Day was coming up. Another year without her baby sister, and another year of her mother weeping and asking why Hawke hadn't saved her, and Carver slinking around the estate being morose with Knight-Commander Meredith's blessing. She was yanked out of her reverie when Anders piped up, poking at Fenris, "Did you ever think about killing yourself?"

Hawke nearly whipped herself in the face with the short braided pigtails she'd tied her hair into after finding the Qunari patrol and killing the demons with how fast her head snapped up. Fenris glowered at Anders through the fall of his hair, "I could ask you the same thing."

Sebastian, bringing up the rear, shot her a pained look but also mouthed "Not getting involved."

"I'm serious. To get out of slavery, to escape Danarius... don't tell me you never thought about it." The tone of his voice seemed curious and sincere, not meant to annoy for once. Anders actually pulled off the heavy leather coat he normally wore with its ridiculous feathered capelet, draping it over the end of his staff for some relief from the summer heat, grey undertunic soaked through with sweat.

"I did not. To kill oneself is a sin in the eyes of the Maker." Fenris's shoulders hunched forward more than normal, even as Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise.

"You... believe that?" Anders looked no less shocked.

"I try to. Some things must be worse than slavery." An olive glare through silver strands.

"Some things are worse than death." Whiskey-dark eyes snapped with righteous indignation in return.

"Stop, both of you. For just one day, an hour." She couldn't take any more talk of death, or the thought of losing Fenris, even if it would have been before she'd ever met him. The tightness in her chest from thinking about Bethany made her sound breathless, and Hawke spun around, striding up the path and out of sight. Her steps were so quick and hurried she didn't even get any more sand in her boots.

Sebastian looked after her, then shook his head and Fenris and Anders. "Can you not give her a moment of respite, please? Something is obviously weighing heavily on her mind."

The elf and mage both muttered like scolded children as they followed after Hawke to the camp. When they arrived, she was nowhere in sight, and the rest of their party obviously knew something they had done had upset her. Aveline looked ready to hit them with her shield, Isabela had that smirk she got when she sensed a pot to stir, Merrill's eyes were wide with worry, and Varric was polishing Bianca in a way that made Anders clear his throat in nervousness.

"Alright, gents, I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say Broody and Blondie got into it again. You two are going to sit here like naughty children and let Aveline yell at you for a bit while Choir Boy goes down to the beach and makes sure Hawke is okay."

"You two dunderheads do realize that with All Souls Day coming up in a few days, Leandra's going to be browbeating Hawke about her sister's death again, don't you?" Avenline snapped out.

Fenris winced and hunched in on himself again, then growled out, "I am not a child to be scolded, I will keep watch while Sebastian speaks with Hawke. I will make my own apologies after."

"That sounds like an excellent-"

"Oh no you don't, Anders. You're staying here, where Fenris is not." Aveline really did look like she was going to wallop Anders with her shield if he didn't stay put, so he plopped down next to Merrill and began helping her clean elfroot to take to Lady Elegant for potions with a mutinous expression on his face.

Sebastian and Fenris followed Hawke's footprints to the crest of the ridge they camped on, and Fenris faltered when they spotted her staring out over the waves, arms wrapped around her waist. "Have you not made your feelings for her clear, Fenris?"

"I-don't know? I was rather drunk when I told her of my escape from Seheron, and she said there was no one else who held her interest. What do I have to offer her?" He felt cornered, a little. It was not easy to name what he felt for Marian, even with Sebastian, except to say that she was the one mage on Thedas he would trust at his back under any circumstances.

"Sometimes, a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen with are what is needed most, even if you do not have the words." Sebastian left Fenris to consider his words; he carefully made his way down to the soft sand of the beach. He stopped next to the silent woman, crossing his arms over his chest and considering the waves. His boots were made to keep water out as well as sand, so he paid no mind to the waves washing about their toes. Hawke had discarded her boots and rolled up her green leggings, feet slowly sinking into the sand as the surf washed over them. "I'm sorry about your sister, Hawke. If she was anything like you, she was an example of what people and mages everywhere should strive to be."

"Maker, she was not like me. Bethany was Mother's favorite because she was a mini-Mother. She liked dresses and embroidery and feminine pursuits, and she was terrified of her magic. We found out I was a mage when I pulled Carver out of the hayloft with magic when he was four. She found out she was a mage by accidentally blowing up a barrel of lamp oil and burning the barn down." Hawke wiped at her cheeks and forehead, acting like she was ridding herself of sweat instead of wiping away tears. "Father managed to get her to learn enough to control it, and some work with a halberd so she could have a staff to focus with, but after he died she actively avoided using it unless she absolutely had to. I wonder if I should have badgered her to practice more, then maybe she would have been able to protect herself from that ogre."

"You cannot change the past, Hawke, and you are not responsible for Bethany dying. That lies purely in the hands of that particular darkspawn and the Archdemon. If you like, I can subtly harp on your mother to leave you be on All Souls Day, since she seems to fancy coming to the Chantry Prince after confession." Sebastian gave her a gentle nudge with his shoulder, a wistful grin softening his face, "My mother always said the Amells were the best family in Kirkwall, and you certainly live up to that, no matter the difference in last name. I can remind your mother of all the good you're doing for Kirkwall."

Hawke laughed, "Flatterer. Did your mother really say that, or is that a line from your wild days?"

"Andraste as my witness, she did. I do not need to flatter you with the truth, Hawke." She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side, then spit out a rather lurid curse and rubbed at the sore spot she'd given herself clipping the edge of his chestplate. "Maker, Hawke, language!"

Hawke just rolled her eyes at him again. He slung his arm around her shoulders to give her a gentle squeeze, "Are you ready to speak to Fenris, or do you need a few more minutes to yourself?"

She shrugged, arms going back around her waist. Sebastian looked at her, then beckoned to Fenris while walking back up the ridge. "Remember what I said, my friend."

Stopping a few feet from the waves, Fenris loosened the wraps on his feet and rolled them up with his own leggings, then joined Hawke. "I am not good with words, Hawke, but I am sorry. I should not rise to his bait so easily. I cannot promise that I will always be able to keep my temper, but I do promise to try."

Marian nodded, the ocean breeze whipping soft black strands that had escaped the short braids around her face. Fenris unclipped his chestplate and shoulder guards, then tossed them up in the sand next to her boots. Uncomfortable in only the soft underpadding, he turned to her and held out his arms awkwardly. Tilting her head to the side, she huffed out, "What are you doing, Fenris?"

"I am attempting to be a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen, since I don't have the words to comfort you. I may never have them, but I can try as often as you have need of me." Marian felt herself melt a little as he kept his arms spread out, reminding her of a rather grumpy owl she'd seen trying to dry out its wing feathers after a rainstorm once. She walked into them, resting her forehead on his neck. Fenris closed his arms around her, and tilted his cheek down onto her hair. "You do realize you still have shade ash all over you, right? Now I have shade ash all over my undershirt. I'm doing this for you, Hawke."

Her laughter rang over the beach, clear as a bell, before being swallowed by the sound of the waves.