Mara Hawke had learned a few things since her time in Kirkwall… The first? Faking an orgasm. No sex was much better than bad sex.
Second: Keeping priorities in line was the number one priority. She had secured their estate, and her mother was safe; and Maker help her, that was the best she could do. Bethany was in places beyond her reach now… She needed to remember that. Third: Life was just too short to stop and think about it. Pondering the 'what if's' and entertaining any form of hypothetical nonsense was a waste of time, and only ever served to complicate a situation. It was why she was sarcastic, despite her good nature. Apathy worked well to dilute the painful memories and keep her act together – hence, the second and third lessons really go hand in hand.
Lastly: Nobles were strange. And money and power make people do strange things. Though she might as well count herself amongst them now, she honestly just did not understand their behavior. Confronting the Harimann's should have been awkward at most – a considerably easy feat for herself, two expert marksmen, and an ex-warden apostate. But running into drunken, psychotic nymphomaniacs was certainly not what Hawke, or Sebastian, had in mind as they made their way through the Harimann estate the very next day.
Life had, for the moment, fallen into place; and now it was just a matter of staying busy, helping her friends, and fighting the good fight. She had told Sebastian she would see this through. And she meant it.. …But at the moment, she was simply concerned with erasing the unwelcome knowledge of Ruxton Harimann's feather fetish.
"Forgive me Hawke, I did not mean to expose you to such…things," Sebastian muttered as they fled the upper level suites and made their decent into the hidden reaches below.
"My modesty and dignity are beyond saving," she joked. "Believe me, I've been exposed to much worse," she laughed, shooting him an incredulous look. "And so has the blushing Chantry brother, if I recall correctly."
His brows furrowed and he averted his eyes, keeping them forward. "…I don't remember any ruins so close to Hightown."
"A noble attempt at evasion," Varric chuckled as they made their way through the eerily green-lit catacombs. "But I'll be hearing these stories later, over drinks."
Sebastian was about to respond but upon feeling the ground beneath them crumble and open up, he deftly knocked an arrow and took aim at the emerging skull of a skeletal warrior. It pierced its target with a bone-shattering crack and the royal archer made quick work of retrieving it and sending it flying towards its next victim.
One by one the undead corpses fell, to volleys of arrows, bursts of spiritual energy, and whirlwinds of daggers. Within the dark and dank underground ruins, their echoing battle cries sounded together. After disposing of an undead archer, Hawke had to pause and watch as Sebastian moved with extraordinary speed and dexterity, letting each of his arrows fly with pristine accuracy and deadly concentration.
In the midst of the fray she studied him – his stoic features, strong posture, and intense focus – and she found herself recalling the duel they shared in the Lowtown alley, once upon a time. Back then, he had only daggers to defend himself against her impulsive onslaught; and now, seeing him fight and witnessing his talents at their finest, she felt an overwhelming rush of awareness at his closeness and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from doing anything stupid… like rushing him, removing his armor and finding out if anything else has changed since they last-
A cry from another of her comrades grabbed her attention, and she whipped around in time to see Anders struck from behind by an arcane horror, which had appeared out of thin air.
'To the void with my wandering mind!' she cursed herself.
Waves of corpses were soon followed by waves of abominations and demons, and suddenly it all made sense. It didn't take a mage to piece together that this was a case of possession they were dealing with, and the urgency of the situation was not lost on her as she sunk her blade into the spine of a nearby shade.
"I'll show you why mages are feared…" she heard Anders shout.
Sensing his healing light in her peripherals, a surge of combat-lust pulsed through her veins. The battle was near to victory. With a wicked grin Hawke sprang forward and took the offensive, twirling in midair and stabbing into the rage demon that stood alone and defiant in the center of their group. It screeched in pain before bursting into flames and evaporating, and she whipped the gore from her daggers before sheathing them back into place.
"Maker's breath, Hawke, you do get results don't you?" Varric grinned.
She righted herself, swinging her long hair out of her face with a smirk. "I wouldn't be me if I didn't."
Varric laughed loudly, slinging Bianca over his shoulder and following behind his esteemed leader and friend. "Come along choir boy. And don't forget to pick up your jaw."
They fought like that for nearly an hour, deeper and deeper into the ruins, meeting endless hordes of undead monsters and shades. Finding a desire demon at the end of such madness not only made sense, but also had Hawke extremely curious at the turn of events. She'd had very few dealings with demons, as they usually kept within the confines of the Fade – and desire demons in particular rarely made such an appearance. An encounter of this sort was interesting, to say the least, and as the four of them approached, she met eyes with the creature.
It hovered slightly above the ground, its unnatural form a stunning combination of lavender hues and smoky phosphorescence that, for obvious reasons, was quite eye-catching – that, and the thing was completely naked. As it spoke alone with Lady Harimann in the stone hall, she and her companions could make out an appropriate amount of their conversation, and upon hearing "What else do you offer?" Hawke could not hold her tongue.
"Fifty silver is the standard rate for a whore at the Rose," she chuckled as Lady Harimann turned a surprised eye in their direction, having just admitted out loud her plot to gain control of Starkhaven.
Sebastian stepped forward, his gaze hard with rage as he stared down the older noblewoman. "You were my mother's friend. How could you murder her?"
"Such an ugly word," the desire demon purred, its dark eyes penetrating and scouring their minds for their unspoken wishes. "I prefer: removed the only obstacle between her and her dreams."
Sebastian turned his attention, pointing an accusing finger at the demon. "This was your idea."
Apparently this was his first demonic encounter.
"I could create such desires if I wished," it grinned wickedly. "But it's far easier to nurture those that already exist. The desire for power is easy to find. You and your friend both possess it, do you not?"
Hawke and Sebastian exchanged glances as she spoke.
"You both wish to rise."
Having Bethany for a sister had made Hawke less ignorant than most. She had spent many a time reading and researching on mages, abominations, and demons, and was not one to be fooled by empty words. This thing didn't know it, but it chose the wrong person to persuade.
"Not if it meant selling out my family," Hawke spat.
It's hollow, lavender eyes narrowed. "How loyal are your friends to you?" It scanned her party members. "Everyone has a price. Everyone wants something..."
"Do not listen to her," Sebastian muttered quietly aside.
"Oh, such a pious soul, masking so much ambition." The demon grinned hungrily at Sebastian. "Are you so different from my lady? You yearn for the same lands, the same power…"
"I am the rightful heir," he exclaimed in defense. "She is a usurper and a murderer."
"You swore to put aside worldly goods and ambitions, but they couldn't stop you from wanting them."
Hawke turned an interested eye to Sebastian. "…You and Lady Harimann are fighting for the same thing, aren't you?"
"Regaining my birthright is hardly the same as stealing it from another..."
"But you want it," the demon continued, a knowing smile on it's cold purple lips. "You had resigned yourself to letting your brother rule. Yet now, that seat glitters before you... You've always wanted it," her voice echoed, reaching out to him. "You needn't deny it any longer. …All you have to do is kill anyone in your way."
"Silence, temptress," Sebastian took an angry step forward. "Your whispers led our allies astray. You're the only one I must kill."
With lightning speed he equipped his bow and fired an arrow straight for the demons heart. But with matched speed, it snatched the shot out of the air and glared menacingly at him.
When the fight erupted, it was mere moments before it was over. Sebastian's first strike may have been thwarted, but in the heat of battle, the creature did not sense the archer's lance aimed straight for its head. The lesser demons were of little note, as he fought with such ferocity that Hawke actually had to stop herself from saying anything out of place when they stood triumphant over the pile of ash and corpses. The dual-wielding rogue might've usually been a smartass, but she knew there was a time and place for everything. She was not completely tactless…
Silently, she looted the bodies of Lady Harimann and the demon 'Allure' before his voice sounded from beside her.
"Let us return to the Chantry," he uttered as he stared blankly at the littered floor. "I must pray for Lady Harimann's soul."
The trek back was quiet, apart from the encounter with Flora Harimann. Again, Hawke held back the urge to jab at the young noblewoman's diversion of blame, but only for Sebastian's sake. She could not fault him for being as shaken as he was with the whole thing. Also…a large part of her understood what it was like to lose so much.
When they returned to the Chantry, Sebastian separated himself somewhat, attempting to find much needed comfort within the walls of the familiar sanctuary. When Varric and Anders left for the Hanged Man, Hawke found herself unable to follow. Sparing a glance over her shoulder, she noticed his rigid posture as he leaned against the stone rail of the altar. The look of distress marring his normally calm features was painfully clear, and she didn't bother hiding her appearance as she stepped up the small amount of stairs.
"…I had hoped prayer might cleanse me of the desire demon's touch…" he began quietly. "But I still hear her voice so clearly." He shook his head. "I feel like I've bathed in filth that will never come off."
She approached slowly, the signs of his discomfort clear as day. She tried to meet his eyes and offer him the strength he needed, but Sebastian looked too rattled by his first true encounter with a demon from the Fade.
"You acted honorably," she assured him. "Why are you ashamed?"
"The demon didn't lie," he answered hesitantly, "I used to be bitterly jealous of my brother. I wanted to be Prince. Now everything he had is mine… and he lies in ashes." He paused a moment and closed his eyes. "I keep asking myself, 'do I want this because it's right, or simply to have what I never thought I could?'"
She listened as he spoke, allowing him the time he needed to get it all off his chest. Just as he was there for her, she would be for him.
"It's odd," he continued. "When I wanted to rule, I would have been terrible at it. Now that I might be decent, I don't know if it's the right thing to do."
She eyed him seriously. "It's the wisdom not to want power that let's you use it wisely." She touched his hand and he finally looked up at her, to which she offered him a smile. "You really have changed, you know." She admired the strength he too had acquired during their time apart. "In a good way."
He hesitated to smile back. "You didn't feel what that demon stirred in me. But, all the same, I appreciate your kindness." He exhaled deeply. "I can't believe it's finally over."
"It must be a relief… What do you intend to do now?" she asked curiously.
He looked pensive a moment. "It cannot be right to lead any army to Starkhaven with such doubt in my heart." He paused. "…I will…need to think on it."
"Well," she smiled. "At least it will be easier to 'think on' without the threat of assassination."
"And on that note…" he laughed, turning to face her fully with a genuine smile. "I know you won't accept payment, but I owe you more than I can say, Hawke." He offered an appreciative nod. "You've been…a true friend. And I will offer my service to you here before I move on."
She grinned devilishly then, unable to let old habits die. "Will you now? …I can think of a few services for you to perform."
His face was priceless.
"Wh- Oh. Ooh my," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked around awkwardly. "That's…not what I meant. I…"
"Sebastian Vael," she giggled, approaching him slowly until she had him up against the railing behind him. "Oh how the tables have turned… I just cannot get used to this." She leaned up against him and teasingly flicked her tongue across his earlobe before whispering, "You're so cute when you're shy…"
He bit his lip as she leisurely slid away from him, gliding her soft fingers along his jaw line. His blue eyes darkened somewhat, and she swore she saw the beginnings of a familiar grin on his handsome features.
Oh yes. This was going to be her new favorite game.
"Come and find me later, at the Hanged Man," she called after him, an evil, amused smirk on her lips as she sauntered off. "I'll be requesting your services as soon as possible."
A Chantry sister nearby shot him a disapproving look as she folded her arms and Hawke could barely contain her laughter as she disappeared.
"You…do that," he swore under his breath. "…I think I need to pray. A lot."
Unfortunately, prayer had done little to quell the feelings returning within him. And she was not helping at all… walking ahead of them, with those hips swaying gently, side to side. Even with that armor, it would be so easy t-
"You know, you could burn a painful eternity for all those disgraceful thoughts," Varric muttered beside him.
"I…beg your pardon? I was thinking no such things…" Sebastian coughed and craned his neck, looking anywhere but ahead at the one leading their group back along the Wounded Coast.
They had just met with a very exasperating dwarf who had apparently gotten himself into a world of trouble after getting involved with the Qunari and their explosive powder. It seemed Javaris wasn't quite the mastermind he was made out to be, as a set up proved another thief was behind this act. The Viscount himself had brought this matter to Hawke, personally; and Sebastian could understand why any dealings with the foreigners would be a risky business. He was surprised Hawke had gained so much attention…and yet, actually not so surprised at all. Either way, it was good to know he would be busy helping people.
"It is also a sin to lie, is it not?" Varric pressed, pulling him away from his thoughts. "I'd be careful not to get struck by lightning before you get the chance to battle this usurper of yours. You'll need all the strength you can get! I mean, he's...what, twenty feet tall?"
At that, Sebastian could not help but laugh. "Not even close, no."
"But he has claws for hands, right?" Varric held up two gloved hands in front of him and began swiping at the air.
"Fingers." Sebastian chuckled. "Perfectly normal ones. If a little fat, perhaps."
"He eats babies though. And farts fire."
Sebastian's previous blush had quickly disappeared at the imagery now being conjured. "You're not serious, I hope."
"…You can't even pretend to be interesting, can you?" Varric shook his head slowly.
Giggling quietly to herself until now, Hawke burst out laughing ahead of them.
"Varric, leave him alone." She glanced over her shoulder and shot their haughty dwarven companion a half-assed look of disapproval.
They made their way down and back along the sandy paths of the Wounded Coast, the sound of the crashing waves and crying gulls all around them. The salty smell of the sea and the soft spray of water droplets took his mind in another direction, and in an attempt to get all the attention off of himself, Sebastian turned to their other party member.
"So, Isabella… Is this getting you any closer to your ship?"
Isabella turned a bored eye to him. "Huh?"
"I just…don't understand why you're working with Hawke. You don't seem to care about anything we do. What's keeping you here?"
She simply shrugged as she kept pace with him and Varric, only a couple feet behind Hawke. "Mostly the sex." The look on Sebastian's face quickly provoked her out of her boredom. "Oh yes, Hawke is an absolute tiger in the sheets. I mean all night, every night…"
"…Every night?" Images that he could never un-see burned themselves into his mind.
"Oh cute! You're blushing," the pirate grinned wickedly.
"Too cruel, Rivaini." Varric smirked.
"Really, you two," Hawke finally turned to face her comrades, her hands on her hips. "Leave Sebastian alone. And Isabella," she strolled up to poke a finger at her friends' chest, pressing her body flush against hers. "How would Fenris feel about all your flirting?"
"Wh-" Her fellow duelist looked baffled. "How…did you know about-"
"Details, details," she teased. "Now stop exaggerating before I spill all your dirty secrets and spoil all your fun."
"You wouldn't," Isabella narrowed her eyes.
"Don't tempt me." Hawke chuckled and pressed a playful kiss to her friends' cheek before continuing on ahead.
"Fine, fine," Isabella sighed, straightening her revealing bodice. As she stepped in line behind Hawke, she cast Sebastian a sly grin. "Temptation's half the fun, though."
Varric shook his head and laughed, ushering the dazed prince forward.
"Don't worry, choir boy. Everybody likes taking shots at the new guy. Lucky for you, the worst you'll get is from Isabella, and yours truly."
Sebastian simply shook his head and tried to force away the red on his face. "At least your reassurance is genuine. I think."
An hour later the four rogues found themselves leaving the cloudy, twisted paths inland of the coast. The three of them followed at a polite distance behind their irrefutable leader as she led them back into Kirkwall. Following the trail the dwarf had given them, they quickly made their way to the alley where the elf was supposed to be. Instead, they found a member of the guard pacing back and forth to keep the small group of confused citizens away from the dark alley corner.
"All of you, I can't fight the damned air. If you want to live, stay out!"
"Easy soldier," Hawke chuckled as she moved to pass.
"Wait. Messer Hawke?" He held up his hand to stop her. "Maker, please, the street is death. There was a cloud that drove people mad, and now a seeping mist that kills..." He shook his head after glancing over his shoulder. "All I can do is warn people. If someone like you dies on my watch, I'm right stuffed."
"Well…" Hawke grinned. "Hold your breath."
And with that said, she strode past him, confidence – or was it indifference – radiating off of her. As the three of them followed, the guard twitched and stuttered in panic.
"But…shit," he mumbled helplessly.
They descended the stairs and Sebastian instantly felt a hot, sharp stinging in his lungs at the first breath of air.
"My throat burns," he grasped at his neck. "We must find the source."
This was a disaster. The alley was thick with poisonous fumes that had already claimed several lives and was quickly spreading out of control. They moved quickly, mindful of the few corpses that littered the streets, until Hawke found a small mechanical device and turned her hardened gaze to the barrels spilling over with gas.
"…This should do the trick on those barrels." She attached the mechanism and effectively sealed the first one shut.
In an instant, waves of fanatics and bandits were upon them, scaling from rooftops and appearing from the shadows in an attempt to ambush the intruders. Varric and Sebastian took up ranged positions from behind while Isabella and Hawke moved like the wind in between each of their foes, cutting a path amidst a storm of arrows.
This process went on three more times before the enemies stopped coming, the barrels all effectively sealed and secure. At the end of it all, a diseased looking elf approached from one of the stairs above.
"Is that…? Serrah Hawke!" The elf's eyes widened and then narrowed. "You have enemies. …I'm glad it's you, really," she admitted as she scanned the streets around them. "These poor people," she shook her head, "You are a much better target!"
"Care to explain your particular brand of crazy?" Hawke looked up at her, humor turning quickly to impatience.
"Qunari take my people! My siblings forget their culture, then go to the Qun for purpose. We're losing them twice!" She raised her sword. "So, I get help from your people. We'll take the Qunari thunder, make some accidents, and make them hated! But this…" she looked around. "This is all wrong."
Hawke's eyes narrowed at the pathetic excuse of a person before her. Raging emotions – hidden, but visible to those who looked hard enough – flashed in her eyes like a violent storm. Sebastian almost recoiled as she turned those eyes towards them, a look of indecision briefly mingled in with the rest as she surveyed their surroundings and the situation.
"You're still killing people."
"It can still work. They are hidden in your city. They'll enrage the faithful, and make sure the Qunari are blamed! Me, I'm finished. I just need a few more bodies…" Her eyes became daggers. "A few more…"
"I'm tired of lunatics," she muttered under her breath as the elf took charge.
The battle did not last long, as the adrenaline from earlier had left the four of them ready to meet bows and blades against their enemies.
"May the maker have mercy on you, for you'll find none here." Hawke rushed forward and drove her dagger through her gut, holding her up with her other hand and driving the blade in deeper.
Sebastian winced as the elf gagged and spewed blood over Hawke's shoulder. While he would have seen her jailed, a part of him that understood the gravity of the situation, understood what she was doing. Sometimes that line between right and wrong was more like a gigantic gray area. Nothing was ever certain.
He watched as Hawke closed her eyes and sighed, her face caked in dirt and blood from all of their grueling combat in their fight to end this confusion. And there was liable to be more that followed. She inhaled calmly as she jerked her blade away and stood back from the lifeless corpse, searching her body before standing up to scan the gore that littered the muddy ground.
Before leaving, Sebastian hung his head and uttered a small prayer for the souls of the departed. Nothing was right about what happened here, but a small amount of justice had been done.
"The Arishok will want to know what happened here," Hawke said quietly.
Isabella disappeared before they made their way to the docks, daylight having just barely broken as the two archers accompanied their leader to meet with the Qunari in their sanctioned compound.
As they approached, Hawke took two extra steps forward, meeting the Arishok with more courage than he could have mustered as the goliath towered before them. Sebastian had never been inside the compound, and admittedly held a slight bias for the foreign giants and their Qun that they followed. But seeing them face-to-face, he had never felt so small before another man. Such massive creatures, the Qunari, with a menacing, ice-cold stare that made you feel as though you could never measure up to their standards… And yet Hawke stood tall, meeting eyes with their leader and even bowing her head in respect.
"So," the Arishok's deep voice boomed. "I was wrong about our thief."
His eyes were piercing from beneath his shadowed brow, and his horns bared forward as he ducked his head.
A simple nod, and a "So it would seem," did plenty to satisfy the question.
"They say we were careless with our trap, that this is our fault. But even without the saar-gamek, there would have been death. This elf was determined to lay blame at our feet." He extended a gesture with his hand. "I admire conviction with a focus, but your kind are truly committed to weakness."
"Why aren't you more concerned about her supporters?" Hawke asked curiously.
"Our enemies strike from the shadows because they cannot stand before us. This is not a revelation..."
They went on like that, back and forth, for a time. Sebastian found it difficult to keep up with the conversation. The small battalion of Qunari soldiers surrounding them did little to steal his eyes away from the woman beside him. She stood, speaking calmly with the Arishok with her chin held high and a resolute determination in her eyes. Hands at her sides, the wind picked up and threw her hair wildly around her, making her look the perfect picture of boldness and ferocity. She was utterly beautiful, and stronger than any woman he had ever known. How could so much fire, so much compassion and strength all fit in one small body, and be equally as beautiful to boot?
Hawke was facing these Qunari for the Viscount, for the entire city of Kirkwall, when everyone knew she didn't need to. Without so much as the slightest hint of hesitation, she did what no other man had done and met with these foreigners as an equal, and for no personal gain. She was ferocious in battle, he had seen that much today; and she did it all because it was the right thing to do. Hawke understood what duty meant, and rose to meet it whenever it called on her.
...Could he do the same?
His adoration was interrupted when the Arishok's voice rose above its normally calm demeanor.
"…That is why I do not simply walk from the pustule of a city." He turned abruptly, anger flashing in his molten eyes. "Fixing your mess is not the demand of the Qun," he rounded on them then, "And you should all be grateful!"
Sebastian felt an overwhelming urge to grab Hawke and run, his right hand twitching at his side, ready to move if commanded.
"…Thank you, human, for your service," he grunted, slowly turning to sit back down upon his impermanent throne. His eyes were penetrating as he commanded them: "Leave."
Hawke simply nodded, her eyes trained on him and her hands remaining calmly at her side.
"Let's go," she ordered, and Varric muttered something about nut jobs and giants giving him headaches and left to follow after Isabella.
Sebastian stayed as the wooden gate to the compound shut behind them, and Hawke simply stretched her arms high above her head. The two of them then made their ascent, out and away from the docks and back towards Hightown.
"I've seen too many people like that," she said suddenly, her voice serious. "Self-righteous zealots, thinking anyone different deserves judgment – who kill and spread hatred, claiming their will to be just. The Qunari may be intimidating, and…difficult to get along with, but they're people too." She turned to Sebastian and smiled. "It feels good doing the right thing."
"…Some might argue whether what you did was right," he shrugged. "Many people find it easy to hate them for what they represent."
"Well they can shove it." She hooked her thumbs along her belt as they climbed the long set of stairs. "I am sure of myself and that's all I need."
"And that," he followed beside her, "is something I've always envied about you."
"Are you not certain in your convictions?"
Sebastian laughed ruefully. "I always seem to think I am," he sighed, "but then I feel doubt creep back up my spine, give sway to my every decision."
"You still question what to do about Starkhaven."
"That among other things… It is difficult to convince myself that it will all work itself out. While I trust in the Maker's will, I also know that it is the will of mankind which make the decisions that shape our world."
"So decide." She inclined her head in his direction, meeting his eyes briefly. "What's important to you?"
He stopped beside her as they reached the bottom of the stairs leading to Viscount's Way. Without so much as a care, Hawke plopped down heavily at the base of the stone steps, to which Sebastian soon followed when she gestured he take a seat beside her. They both took a moment to stare up at the cloudy sky, the streets nearly empty, save for the random few citizens passing by.
"Must you always make everything seem so easy?" he asked, leaning back on the steps behind them and tilting his head to look at her.
Her eyes were tracing patterns in the clouds. "It seems easy at first…" She wore a sideways grin. "But you have yet to answer the question."
"I…" His eyes found their way back up to the sky. "I guess you're right," he chuckled.
"It's harder than it sounds, deciding what's important. Most people don't even have a clue what they want."
"What about you?" he kept his eyes up as he leaned against his elbows. "How did you figure it out?"
"I think the issue forced itself on me when my family left Ferelden. By then I had totally assumed the role my father would have played – taking care of my family was all that mattered to me."
"A difficult burden, for one so young to bear…"
"No one ever has a choice." Her voice remained light. "They are given the illusion of it, but people would rather think they picked the wrong one, than admit weakness or fault. I could have let Bethany work at the Rose, and I could have let mother rot with the rest of Lowtown…but what would that make me?"
"Normal, I think," Sebastian smiled, sparing a glance at the remarkable woman beside him. "You set the bar too high for the rest of the world, and now they're struggling and making a mess just to try and be more like you."
"Amateurs," she laughed.
"Taking care of your family seems like all that you've known…" he tried to look at her. "But what do you want?"
"…The same thing I wanted when you first met me," she sighed, keeping her eyes in the sky. "But it's foolish to wait around for someone else to fix every mess I land myself in. And it would also make me quite a hypocrite."
"Everyone deserves a break, Hawke." He sent her a sympathetic smile. "It is a mark of humanity to want to right all the wrongs in this world, yet fall short in possessing what it takes to do it."
"Mankind is measured not by the choices presented to them, but by their decisions to do something about them. And it is fear – or laziness – which hold us back."
She turned a thoughtful eye towards him, but a drop of rain caught them off guard and they both looked up to find themselves being soaked in a sudden downpour. Hawke laughed as they sprinted the rest of the way to find shelter in the cozy entryway of her estate, framed by the beautiful veil of ivy leaves.
"Well, that was quick and unexpected." She shook her hands free of the water drops rolling down her arms. "-Words a man should never hear from a woman," she chuckled. "Would you like to come inside? You haven't seen my new house yet."
Sebastian looked thoughtful for a moment as the dark clouds above were giving way to heavier drops of rain. The warm air of summer was changing with the cool drop of pressure from the storm – a welcoming change to the sweltering heat and humidity.
"I'm…not sure if that's appropriate," his deep brogue sounded over the falling rain, as his eyes fell to catch tiny beads of water rolling down her shapely legs.
Her expectant smile dropped to a pouty frown. Walled off from the storm in their own private oasis, their bodies were considerably close. She shifted her weight and crossed her arms. "Sebastian… I get that you're all about the Chantry now, and doing good deeds – and that's great." She fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. "But why do you act so…reserved around me? It's not like we haven't-"
"That was," he cleared his throat, "…a long time ago. I have sworn oaths, taken vows to the Chantry, since then. Some of which I've already broken..."
She rubbed her arms and looked out into the mist covering Hightown. "So you aren't allowed to…be with anyone? Ever?" She cast him a disbelieving look.
"Well…yes." He struggled to hold her gaze.
"You mean you actually swore one of those vows?" Her eyebrows shot up. "I don't believe it."
"I'm not the person I used to be," his voice grew defensive.
"Everybody changes." She met his gaze with a shrug. "I guess I just can't believe… You mean I can't even kiss you?"
"…" Her boldness staggered his resolve somewhat.
"Yes. We've changed," she continued. "Yes, a lot of time has past." She squared her shoulders and faced him fully, looking up to meet his eyes. "But don't think for a minute that I never missed you."
Sebastian, even after so many years, looked down into her eyes and found himself shamed by her honesty and sincerity, amazed that she could speak the words he could not.
"…I could say the same," his voice dropped lower as he hesitantly reached out to touch her chin.
"You could, but you don't, because you have new promises to keep." Her hand stopped his, gently holding it steady. "Ones that I won't ask you to abandon…"
Her eyes followed the contours and features of his face, mere inches apart, and stopped to stare at his lips. Drops of water still fell down their faces, dripping ever so often off the tips of their noses. Slowly, gently, she rolled her tongue over her lips.
"But I only think it's fair, after all," her eyes wandered back up to meet his and a smirk danced across her face, "that I ask…for just one kiss."
Sebastian searched her eyes and felt his heart hammering inside his chest. The knowledge and awareness of his vows were clashing with the situation and the reasons he was quickly making for this to be okay.
Time had come and gone, changed them both… But…maybe just this once?
"You can pray for forgiveness later," she whispered against his skin.
His eyes fell to her lips. Maker, he had dreamt – many, many nights – about a time where he could kiss those lips again, just one more time, hear her whisper his name like she did before…
Fighting with what was right and what was expected, he thought back to words she had only moments ago offered him, 'So decide.'
"…Just this once," he reasoned, a comforting whisper for his ears only.
His covered hand quickly found its way in her hair as he leaned forward and slanted his lips over hers. A soft moan and a taste so familiar sent his memory and senses spiraling into a high he had not felt in a long time.
While one hand cupped her face, the other went behind her head to brace himself against the wall as she leaned back and tilted her head up, allowing him further access into her mouth as their tongues met and their eyelids slid shut. Snaking her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, their mouths claiming one another and fighting for dominance and their breaths coming in short pants and gasps for air.
At one moment, it was slow and sweet, and at another, it was wild and savage. The passion came in waves and bursts, until he had her pressed against the ivy wall and they were both panting for air. Resting his forehead against hers, he kept his eyes shut, breathing in a scent and relishing in a taste so familiar, so wonderful, it was almost a sin to have forgotten…
But his vows…
"Just this once," he whispered again, his lips against her temple.
Shaken, but too elated to notice or care, Sebastian pulled back to find her green eyes glazed over as she looked up at his mouth. Maker, he was going to have to pray for forgiveness three straight weeks after this.
"I should…go," he breathed, his arms still braced against the stone behind her and walling her in.
Hawke simply nodded as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, daring to peak up at him from beneath her lashes.
"I will…" He leaned down. "See you tomorrow then," his voice was quiet, but deep with desire as he brushed his lips against hers.
Her lips parted slightly and they paused for a moment, aware of where this would lead. Moving as if in a trance, their lips came together in the softest of touches before he moved to the side to rest against her.
She inhaled deeply, smiling as she felt the stubble of his face against her cheek. "Hanged Man, noon," she repeated. "I trust you know how to get there."
"Woman, you will be the death of me…" he whispered as he pulled back, tearing his gaze away and rubbing a hand down his face. "…Until then," he cleared his throat. "Hawke."
And he took purposeful steps away from their shrouded fortress, not bothering to run once blanketed by the rain, and hoping that the falling water would wash away all his sins and transgressions.
Meanwhile, a love struck Hawke made her way inside, a sway to her step and a goofy grin that left her mother wondering when she'd have any grandchildren.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! :)