The Hanged Man was Marian's favorite hangout. Though Carver was right about the piss poor ale and the greasy food. But still, the Hanged Man felt like home. It was the dive she'd spent her time in back when she was working for Red Iron Marketing for peanuts of a paycheck. It was the bar she'd met her two best friends in Kirkwall. And it was one of the only places in the city where everyone knew her and didn't give a shit that she was the Champion. She liked the place so much, she'd bought a little one bedroom flat just down the block, even though she could have afforded a much bigger, much nicer place in Hightown.

They hadn't stepped more than a foot into the Hanged Man before Varric spotted her and swooped in.

"Maker's breath, Hawke! I haven't seen you months—is that Junior with you?"

He ushered them to his table in the corner and ordered everyone a round. Marian quickly slipped into her old spot at the far end of the booth, Nate and Caver slid in across from her, and Varric pulled up his usual chair at the end of the table. It was only a few seconds later that Isabela appeared from somewhere on the other side of the bar and scooted in next to Marian.

Marian had spent hundreds of nights in that booth with Varric and Isabela. Others had come and gone over the years, but Varric and Isabela had always stuck by her side. Other than Carver, they were the only two people in Kirkwall she truly trusted anymore.

While Carver handled introductions, Marian checked the two new text messages on her phone. And Isabela, nosy as ever, leaned over and saw Sebastian's name there.

"Oh, kitten," she said, loudly enough to get everyone else's attention, "I thought you were done with him."

"Who? Choir Boy?" Varric asked from the other end of the table, lip curled up like he smelled something foul.

"He just texted me, that's all." She set the phone on the table in front of her, watching as the lit screen flipped to black and wishing Isabela hadn't said anything about it.

"You're still talking to him?" Carver asked, eyebrows high on his forehead.

"No," she said firmly. She shook her head and looked at the phone. "He just…checks in every once in a while." She tried to shrug it off and idly spun her phone with her finger a few times.

"That's the problem, you know. He won't just go away. He's like…a bad rash." Isabela nodded. "Every time you think you've gotten rid of him, he comes back with a vengeance."

Varric leaned forward on his elbows, catching Marian's eye. "You made the right decision, Hawke. You've got—"

"Wait," Nate interrupted. "This was your decision?"

"You didn't hear the story?" Varric said, leaning forward with a grin.

"Varric…" Marian groaned.

Norah brought their beers and a couple of baskets of fries just as Varric launched into his story.

Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy.

"At first, the guy's a regular Prince Charming," Varric said, leaning back in his chair with his beer in one hand.

Carver snorted, "Yeah, that didn't last." But Varric just ignored him and continued.

"But he's really religious. He's a Chantry brother, but he's renounced his vows for whatever reason. But he's still 'devout.'" Varric made the air quotes with his fingers and shook his head before continuing. "It turns out he doesn't really approve of his new girlfriend's friends and their drinking and card playing. And while he claims to appreciate her art, he doesn't really like that she spends so much time working with the more unsavory folks around town. He wants her to only do the Maker's work."

Isabela chuckled and chimed if, "The Hawke we met all those years ago would have probably punched him if he'd try to tell her what to do with her art."

"True," Varric nods. "And maybe our prince knows that, so he's sly about it. And he strings her along for six years. And she follows all the rules, plays all his little games. For. Six. Years. And then he decides to go back."

"To the Chantry?" Nate asked with a small frown.

Carver sneered and nodded. "Then that self-righteous lacquered pilot whale piece of shit has the nerve to ask her for…what was it, Annie? A chaste marriage?"

Marian groaned and put her head in her hands, not wanting to participate in her own humiliation.

"A chaste marriage? After being together for six years?" Nate arched one eyebrow.

"We were never together…like that," Marian mumbled into her hands, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks.

"You should have known there was something wrong when he told you he wouldn't sleep with you, kitten."

"Are we really having this conversation?" Marian sighed and dropped her hands, trying to look anywhere but at Nate or her brother, settling on a spot on the table.

"Yes, Hawke. If he's texting you, and you're even thinking of replying, we are definitely having this conversation," Varric said pointedly.

Isabela slung her arm over Marian's shoulders and said, "We just want to see you happy, kitten."

"I know," Marian leaned into her.

"And you've been really unhappy," Varric added.

"I know," she repeated, nodding this time.

"For years, Hawke," he added.

"I know, Varric." She sat up and met his gaze. "Can we stop talking about what an idiot I am now?"

"The only reason I won't call you an idiot is that you left him," Carver said.

Marian shrugged, "And now he won't leave me alone."

"Here," Carver reached for her phone. "Let's drop him a hint."

"Don't." Marian snatched it back before he could get to it.

"I wasn't going to text him. You're not going to text him. I just think we should take a picture of everybody, post it, and tag you. That way that puffed-up Chantry prat will see that you've returned to your wild, wild ways." Carver grinned mischievously.

"When did you get so devious, Junior?" Varric chuckled.

Carver's grin widened into something bit more menacing. "I'm cleverer than I look."

Nate snorted at that but slid his phone across the table to Varric. "Everyone on one side?" He suggested.

Varric called Norah back over to have her take the picture. The server took two shots, returned Nate's phone, and disappeared to pick up another round of drinks.

"Send that to me, and I'll post it," Carver said when they returned to their spots.

"Will you send it to me, too?" Marian asked. Nate nodded, and she gave him her number. While he texted the picture, Marian made an effort to turn the conversation away from her.

"Varric, you know how you keep talking about writing a book about a Grey Warden, but there are too many secrets? You've got two right here you can harass for information."

Satisfied at the eager gleam in Varric's eyes, she slouched down in her seat and propped her feet on the bench across from her. She checked her phone. When Isabela nudged her with her elbow, Marian tilted the phone to prove she was just looking at the picture Nate had sent, not texting Sebastian back. Surprisingly, it was a good picture. Isabela had her arms around both Marian and Varric, a sultry smile on her face. Nate and Carver were behind them, leaning over the back of the booth, Carver making a ridiculous duck face and Nate with a lopsided grin, his eyes turned ever so slightly in Marian's direction. Marian looked up at her brother and his friend, who were now trying to answer Varric's onslaught of questions without actually answering them.

She watched as Carver snorted at some comment Varric made while Nate chuckled next to him. Nate had told her that Carver was good at his job and that he'd grown into it, but watching them now, she wondered how much of Carver's grumbling had been tempered by Nate's influence. There was something similar about the sort of calm confidence they both had.

"Your brother certainly has…filled out," Isabela purred in her ear.

"No, Isabela," she groaned. "Just…no."

"Spoil sport," she laughed. After a moment, she slid her arm around Marian's shoulders and whispered, "His friend is cute though."

"I…hadn't noticed." Marian had, of course, noticed. And by the way Isabela chuckled, her friend probably knew that she'd noticed.

"He has pretty eyes," Isabela added. "Do you think he likes pirates? Or Champions?"

Marian rolled her eyes. Nate was Carver's friend and a Grey Warden. She was probably off-limits in some silly unspoken rule about dating someone's sister, and she knew from talking to Carver that Wardens and relationships didn't often mix. And Nate's ex was male. And there were a hundred other complications, not the least of which was the fact that she wasn't really looking for anything herself, so none of this mattered. It didn't matter that his chuckle sent a whirlwind of butterflies scattering through her stomach or that he did, in fact, have pretty eyes. Of course, she was sure that was just the beer talking.

She leaned into Isabela and whispered to her friend, "It doesn't matter, Is."

She turned her attention back to the conversation, which had shifted away from Warden secrets. Varric was instead regaling her brother with one of his Champion stories, one of the ones where he makes it sound like Marian's art saved dozens of lives. When Varric's story got completely outrageous, she shook her head and corrected him. "There were no dragons involved, Varric."

"My story, Hawke. Not yours," Varric admonished her.

Marian let out a huff of air, adjusting her feet on the bench across from her, and closed her eyes. She was just about to correct another point of Varric's story when she noticed a slight weight on her ankle. She cracked one eye open and looked across the table at Nate. He was clearly paying attention to Varric, but his hand was resting on her ankle. She could barely feel it through the thick leather of her boot, but it was definitely there.

She shifted her attention back to Varric, who had launched into one of the ones that she actually liked. It was before she was given the "Champion" title, before she had to think of how her actions would look in the media, before Sebastian's influence took over. Back when Hawke was just an artist with an uncanny eye for detail who liked to mess with the Templars.

Marian had always enjoyed making Templars' lives more difficult, but Kirkwall's Templars were particularly vile. Their job, really, was just to identify and monitor the Gifted and, occasionally, pull in children whose Gifts were deemed either useful to the Chantry or dangerous. But in Kirkwall, the Templars were overzealous under Knight-Commander Meredith's rule.

As Varric reached the end of the story, his eyes were locked on Nate, the only one who hadn't heard it before.

"So what does Hawke do? She draws a poster of him beating up on one of the kids. Makes a couple hundred copies and plasters them all over the walls of Kirkwall. It was beautiful."

Marian smiled ruefully. "Too bad everyone prefers kidnappings and car bombings these days."