Hawke/Fenris

"I didn't know," Fenris picked up his gaze from the bed to follow Hawke climbing from between the sheets.

The other man shrugged, leaning against the wall dangerously close to the shattered wine bottle that had never been cleaned. "Not many people do. Think about it, Varric's lurid tales all for nothing and Isabela doesn't get to add her 'unofficial' bits."

"Such a shame," Fenris agreed lightly, "but not even your mother? Or Carver?" It was difficult to imagine anything escaping the notice of Leandra.

Hawke grimaced, bare foot nudging against the glass before jerking back, "Carver does, try asking about it sometime, you'll be amazed how he centers it on himself. It's actually comforting to know I can't be the martyr of the family."

Fenris laughed, "That's certainly a relief. I would hate to add martyr on top of insane when describing my lover."

"Make sure you include my amazing body. I've been told it balances out the crazy."

Hawke/Sebastian

"So about that lust demon," Hawke suddenly had to start jogging as Sebastian increased his pace down Sundermount.

"It's nothing Hawke. I experienced nothing and you saw nothing," they rounded a corner and both nearly tripped over a gravestone.

But that wasn't stopping Hawke, even as they had to quickly re-bury some skeletons that he swore they had already taken care of. "Really? So that's what we're calling half-naked, well-oiled me. I'm going to have to start paying more attention to Merill's babbling." Hawke laughed, "Or not once Isabela starts talking incessantly about 'nothing'".

"Hawke would you please?" Sebastian groaned as they approached the cavern hoping that giant spiders would prove a more suitable distraction. At least he didn't have the embarrassment of still being aroused thanks to Hawke's generous use of fire once he caught up to Sebastian and the demon.

Hawke sighed dramatically, "No mentioning how handsome I am. Got it."

"I never said you weren't attractive," Sebastian protested, he had never partaken in the company of men and could still admit it.

"So it wasn't entirely the lust demon."

"Shut up Hawke."

Isabela and Hawke/Fenris

To depressed for home and his mother's pity Hawke settled for The Hanged Man and Isabella's open tab. She had even matched him drink for drink until neither one of them could actually stand at the bar and they took over a table.

Hawke had no idea where Varric was but if it meant there was only one witness, excluding everyone else in the tavern, then he wouldn't care if the dwarf was off was singlehandedly beating the crazy out of Meredith and succeeding. Especially when Isabela began offering advice, "don't worry Hawke, he'll pull his head out from his ass," she stopped to finish her drink in one go, "or I'll stick something much less pleasant up there."

He was about to confess that was the cause of their problems when the table suddenly seemed much closer and less stable. It seemed they had finally changed the water to alcohol ratio and for once it wasn't to further swindle people. It was time to give up on problem solving and focus on surviving the night, "thank you but I'll settle for waking up on this table with my pant on."

"What about neatly folded beside you?" Face pressed against something sticky Hawke realized he was a fool to think Isabela was even half as drunk as him or above using that to her advantage. "It'll be fun! I can't wait, tell me now. Do you and Fenris match?"

"Isabella," Hawke groaned.

"Underwear," she continued as Hawke willed the room to stop spinning, "Fenris is partial to blue. Fancy another drink?"

"No."

Hawke/Anders

Anders loved Hawke enough to frighten himself and follow him into a dragon infested mine. But there was no way Anders was chasing after a group of idiot dwarves into the deep-roads again. Instead he waited in his clinic for the other man to come bouncing in; carefully holding a squirming sack. "You will never believe who I ran into."

"If it's not Bartrand's corpse in that bag I don't want anything to do with it." Especially as the metallic racket drove out the last of his patients as it became louder.

Which for whatever bizarre reason prompted Hawke to reach inside, "I think Sir Pounce a Lot disagrees."

"Is that?" Anders could barely believe his eyes at the bundle half-heartedly trying to bite Hawke, "It is! Hand him over." Hawke did so gladly and Anders held his friend close to get a good look at him. "Why is he wearing a tiny set of armor?"

"Because regular legion armor wouldn't fit," Hawke explained. "Apparently the dwarf you gave him to returned to Orzammar and Sir Pounce a Lot's bloodlust led him into the deep-roads where the Legion found him trying to remove and orc's horn."

"You're joking," Anders looked down and felt both baffled and proud of the helmeted head staring back with recognition. "My cat is a better Warden than I ever was," and he didn't know why, or perhaps he did too well, but Anders felt more than a touch bitter.

"I wouldn't feel bad, I think they were willing to let him go because he made a better dwarf. So I thought our furry friend could watch out for templars." Hawke reached out to pet the cat once and fiddle with the clasp that kept Anders' cloak on, "While we went home."

"Are you crazy?" Anders was certainly making it seem like Hawke was but for once he couldn't see why that would be the case.

"What?"

"Sir Pounce a Lot just got home, he needs a nap. And a bath and his own bowl and blankets." Anders briefly kissed Hawke before turning around, "I'll be home once he's settled Hawke." True to his word Anders was already prying open a shelf to rummage through a pile of dirty linens as a completely shocked Hawke looked on in disbelief. "Come on boy let's get you out of that armor."

To make matters worse as his lover talked to a cat, the very cat whose life he had saved, he swore the little brat looked smug.

Carver and Hawke/Fenris

It was the first time Carver had seen his brother aside from arguing whenever Garrett had business in the Gallows. He was prepared for a fight up until his brother sat across from him grinning like a loon. "The burden is yours," Carver's first reaction was confusion and then realization hit him painfully.

"You bastard! I joined the templars; it was your problem," he was already getting a headache looking at Garrett's smug face. "How did it become mine again?"

"An elf," and before Carver could interrupt Garrett waved him aside, "a male elf." Andraste, it didn't even help that he had the tiny amount of decency to order a pitcher. "And that beats templar. 'Grandchildren for mother' is officially your burden."

"You did this on purpose," Carver glared into his empty mug and then just took the pitcher for himself.

"Whatever makes you happy," Garrett agreed

Hawke/Anders

Hawke watched his lover next to him trying not to act like a complete wreck as various nobles of the Free Marches glided around them. It was a miserable failure, with each person that so much as raised their arm in greeting Anders obviously couldn't decide if he wanted to run and hide or forcibly educate them on the plight they were ignoring with a fancy party.

Long past when they were starting to get odd looks Hawke used the hand not holding a wine glass to subtly jab Anders in the side, "stop acting like a lunatic and relax."

"I can't help it," he hissed, "all these idle rich gathered in one place eager to call the templars tends to make a mage nervous. The sane ones at least," and there was no ignoring which apostate was supposed to be the crazy one according to the blond with a martyr complex twice the size of Kirkwall.

Hawke had to laugh quietly, "You're a Fereldan refugee that helps people in Darktown so no one here has any idea who you are. And I'm the champion; my sexiness overwhelms any urges that aren't of the dirty variety."

Ander relaxed slightly and even grinned back, "So we should just ignore the sister of one of the highest ranked templars in Orlais glaring at us in the corner with her friends?"

"Yes, and we flirt shamelessly with her children before leaving together for home and a night of sensation I'm sure her Chantry-burdened mind can't possibly imagine. But first, more wine and some of those pastry things."

Leandra and Hawke/Anders

It was still dark out when Anders dragged himself out of bed and down into the library, notes in hand intent on adding a few new pages to his manifesto. He had lit several candles and was returning to the desk only to find Leandra, pages in hand reading critically. "I'm happy you finally added specific examples of the Chantry's inaction but your transition into the Templar's violence and their connection still needs work."

Anders stood in complete incomprehension a moment before realizing Leandra was staring at him expectedly, "you read my work?" Immediately he felt a rush of embarrassment because of how pointless the question was..

But all Leandra did was laugh softly, "You do leave it everywhere and believe it or not I used to be quite the academic. Although that was before I married and had children." Setting down the pages she wrapped her shawl a little tighter, "now I'll be out of your hair so I can get this house warmed up."

Leandra had just gotten out of her chair when Anders already had the fireplace lit with a well aimed fireball, "I don't mind, it's your house anyways and I should be at the clinic."

"Last time I checked you also live here," of course Leandra was amused by Anders` budding sense of panic, "which is perfectly fine; I could never stand an empty house. Although you and Hawke could be quieter."

"I'll be sure to tell him," as if on cue they both heard a certain mabari pounding upstairs meaning Hawke had awoken. "Right now actually," before Anders could start dwelling that Leandra looked much too similar to Hawke when she was enjoying watching someone squirm.

He just made it to the doorway when Leandra's voice stopped him, "Ander," the blonde turned around still ready to run, "good morning."

"Oh, good morning, see you at breakfast."

Hawke/Fenris

It really had been a terrible day mostly spent on the Wounded Coast trying to separate a group of mages and slavers before everyone ended up in the Gallows. Typical, until blood magic and abominations had gotten involved and it turned into a desperate fight for survival. Isabelahad returned to the Hanged Man with orders not to bother her for awhile and Anders had to be practically carried down to Darktown so he could collapse into his bed.

Hawke followed Fenris to his mansion with the hope an hour spent with his lover could push him into a better mood. It turned out to be a terrible idea as Hawke lounged in a chair and watched Fenris in front of the fire relaxing in his own way, ranting about the evil of magic.

Normally Hawke did his best to be comforting and non-confrontational but that night he felt the need to interrupt and point out the obvious, "except for me right? I'm actually an example of all the good that magic can do." Even Carver had conceded to that without any prodding and Hawke was sure Cullen could if it was phrased correctly or he actually listened to Sir Thrask.

But that required a level of awareness that apparently Fenris had dragged into a far off corner of his mind and strangled, "what are you talking about?" And that genuine confusion from asking why Hawke, shining beacon to openly free mages, would be bothered to hear his lover condemn all magic users is what always kept him quiet.

So he backtracked a bit, or tried to, "just that if yes, magic has shaped who I am. But that's not my fault and if I do right or wrong that's entirely me because ''mage' isn't the one and only part of me." Hawke stood up to grab Fenris` shoulder, "let's just leave it and go to bed. The sooner today is over the better."

Fenris stayed silent as they stripped down and neither one bothered with night-clothes before slipping into bed. With the exception of a few half-mumbled words it stayed that way and Hawke sighed when he realized everything would be back to normal by morning.

Fenris and Hawke/Sebastian

It was difficult to find any privacy in the Chantry but for one of his friend's uncommon visits Sebastian managed to find a dusty room hidden near the kitchen. Ignoring that strong smell of onions Fenris had led the conversation until it was no doubt late at night. Too many late nights in prayer asking for guidance had caught up to Sebastian so at first he almost didn't hear Fenris ask, "So what was your type?"

"What?" Sebastian forced his open and sat straighter, "Don't tell me Isabela put you up to this; or Varric for that matter."

"Don't forget Hake," Fenris drawled, completely relaxed on top of a crate, "he's been interested for some time."

"Is this another bet they have going? Because I promise you I was no paragon of debauchery." Except that one night months before he had joined the Chantry but there was no one Sebastian would ever share that with. Mostly a part of him was still convinced the Starkhaven city guard could still be investigating.

A shrug, more dismissive than embarrassed and Fenris elaborated, "I'm curious. I've only known you as a dedicated part of the Chantry."

The reply came easily, "I was a different person no doubt; a very frivolous one in need of guidance."

"That means blondes?" Fenris joked.

"The opposite, and fit, I always felt comfortable around those that actually did something with their time." Sebastian recalled a few faces with some nostalgia and decided to continue, "I felt so useless at the time I suppose I was also drawn to people with a sense of purpose and action. And tall."

Sebastian was starting to regret sharing his past with the way Fenris was staring at him. Especially when it was several long moments before the elf shared his own thoughts, "You know you've just described Hawke."

That completely ungrounded Sebastian who realized Fenris seemed far from surprised and apparently expected him to be able to say anything to that. "I'm a different person," he fumbled over the words that normally came so naturally to him. "I'll be returning to my bed."

"I'm sure Hawke's is still open," a voice called after Sebastian as he walked quickly out of the room unsure if it was Fenris or thoughts long pushed to the back of his mind Sebastian heard.