Bioware owns all, I'm just grateful to play in their sandbox.

Shelter: Chapter 9

Dusk was falling as Sebastian returned to the Chantry from the early supper he had taken at the Mardin estate, hoping to garner a bit of support for the orphanage Elthina was attempting to rebuild after it was destroyed by Qunari. The Chantry wasn't built to house children comfortably.

Hawke had been expected as well, he surmised, but hadn't shown. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not. After yesterday's revelation at the Hanged Man, Sebastian didn't know if he needed to see her again, just now. It was unhinging to think of her as a paid assassin. Aeryn killed people, true. He'd killed people in her service. Sebastian had never seen her start a fight unless an innocent life was at stake. She avoided a fight if possible, trying to talk someone down, relying on her own quick tongue or Varric's uncanny storytelling abilities.

It had been a relief to not see her, he admitted. To not face the fact that she said she'd once been content to do murder on the word of a man she clearly didn't respect. To not have to acknowledge that he had been judgmental without discovering the whole truth, because he didn't think the casual way she had spoken of it could be the whole truth. Where Aeryn was concerned, the first glance, the easy word was never all of the story. And, he had admitted to himself after he cooled off, he had little room to judge. After all, he had paid her for killing the mercenaries who killed his family and then hired her to confront Lady Harimann. It would more than verge on hypocrisy to despise her for what she was in truth, trained to do, when it had benefitted him.

He hadn't been surprised that she wasn't in attendance. Since Leandra died and Aeryn became Champion, she'd been invited to every Hightown event scheduled but rarely attended. She admitted once that she found the nobles tedious to the point of distraction. It tempted her, she said, to do outrageous things just to make them gasp.

Because of that, she was both a prized guest and an object of vicious gossip.

Sebastian gritted his teeth, recalling the last conversation he'd had about her. Hawke's name spoken amidst cruel laughter had attracted his attention.

A drawling voice jeered, "I hear that one of them is in and out of her house at all hours. You know, that one with…"

"Ooh. The tattoos!" A harsh giggle. "Melicende said her father hired him once as a bodyguard. He was terribly silent and enticing."

Noticing his attention, Sebastian had been addressed. "You know the Champion, don't you, Prince Vael?" That popinjay, Georges Varden, peered over the edge of his wine glass with a sotted but intense look of interest. He waved his hand at an overly laced, gaudily painted young lady. "Lady Daphne and I were just discussing her."

"And her pretty companions." Daphne cooed.

"Does she really have a trio of elvhen 'companions'?" Varden sneered the word. "Doting on her?"

"No, of course not." Sebastian denied. "Lady Hawke has an elven servant whom she rescued from Tevinter slavers. She counts two elves among her associates, it's true, but they are partners in her work."

Daphne picked up on that scandal. "Oh, that's right. She still takes mercenary work." The woman sniffed delicately. "I recall mother saying how wholly inappropriate it was for the Viscount- Maker guide his soul," she simpered piously, "to allow the Amell estate to be purchased with that sort of money."

Defensive, Sebastian snapped. "It was being used by slavers before that. In the midst of Hightown!" He bit his tongue. It wasn't his place to defend Hawke. She wouldn't care what these vapid, drunken…He sighed. "Maker guide your paths." He'd blessed them as he turned sharply away.

Now, Sebastian hesitated before he got to the first residential square. He should go straight back to his cell at the Chantry. He'd been away almost every evening this week, between jobs for Hawke, errands for Elthina and cards at Fenris'. He'd stayed late at Lirene's shop, trying to avoid the others as they left the tavern.

Sebastian flexed and popped his shoulders and neck as he walked. He was in need of an early night and perhaps a day of solitude and contemplation. He was feeling turned out at the edges, unable to meditate with the singular focus it had once been his privilege to claim. Too often, his thoughts turned to Aeryn. What she might be doing, if she was working. If she had looked his way as often as he looked to her, the last time they had been together.

She invaded his thoughts even about his home. How would she approach the problem of the farmers versus herders that perpetually divided Starkhaven, thorns in the sides of his grandfather and father? Would she think it wise to begin to produce more in the way of luxury goods to export to Ferelden, a country which avoided Orlesian goods? Would she like the mountainous country?

Even in contemplation, she hovered as he wondered how best to address her belief that she was unworthy to even attempt a reconciliation with the Maker. The revelation of last night went some way to explain why Aeryn felt that way. An assassin was rarely the apple of a righteous heart. She was more than that, now, though. Unworthy was the last word he'd think of her.

And now, again, she was guiding his steps. When Sebastian should be headed to the Chantry, he'd turned to the Amell estate. Setting his heart aside, he turned away into the alley leading to the Chantry courtyard. As he turned, a familiar, bright-haired silhouette leaving the estate caught his attention.

"In and out of her house at all hours." The comment stung his memory like acid, echoing hollowly. The words had made his gut clench in jealous reaction. Fenris and Aeryn were but friends, he reminded himself sternly. Not that it should matter. He had no right to be jealous of that. He'd spent an evening or two in their private company himself, both at the Amell estate and at Fenris' mansion. They were each fascinating people.

But how easily, the thought came, to turn from friendship to something more. And wasn't it already something more? Aeryn never left Fenris behind on a fight. She would put off jobs, if the elf needed time on private work. They had a bond, a regard for one another. They worked like extensions of one another, they shared a love for battle that left the rest of them, him, all but out. Sebastian fought for every inch he gained with Aeryn, only to lose ground as he had last night. Perhaps it was time to concede what was never his right to pursue anyway.

Watching the elf, the archer made his decision.

Fenris stalked down the steps to his own square. Sebastian slipped into the shadows to follow him.

Only a few steps from his residence, Fenris turned suddenly, lyrium glowing. It reflected off of Sebastian's armor and the warrior relaxed imperceptibly.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Fenris." Sebastian stepped further into the light. The voice sounded ragged, and Fenris noticed dark smudges beneath the archer's unusually dulled eyes. Like Hawke, Sebastian was feeling out of sorts over their conversation yesterday, he thought.

Hawke hadn't been able to keep her mind on Fenris' reading lesson, so he had left early. He hadn't realized he was being followed until a few steps ago. Sebastian's skills were clearly improving. He answered the other man, "It is no problem, Sebastian. Did you require my assistance?"

Shaking his head, Sebastian replied. "Just a moment of your time."

"Of course. We should not linger on the street, however." Fenris indicated that Sebastian should tag behind. He never entered the mansion without the cautious thought that Danarius might yet lay a trap for him.

Safely up in the rooms Fenris had claimed and kept relatively neat, Sebastian stoked up the fire as Fenris piled up a tray with wine and sausage rolls pulled from the pack he carried. Orana seldom let him escape Hawke's tutorials without some sort of treat, especially since she had been cajoled into joining them.

Sitting, he watched Sebastian stare into the flames. It was clear that the other man wouldn't be able to just come out with what was troubling him. Fenris was going to have to wait or prod it out of him and he shifted uncomfortably in the wooden seat. He wondered if this was how Hawke felt when one of her companions pleaded for her aid. How did she know which question would bring the issue pouring out? He took a swallow of wine.

"What did you want, Sebastian?" The question was blunt but not spoken unkindly.

Sebastian pushed off of his heels to sit in one of the chairs, long legs pushed out in front of him gracelessly. "You and Hawke. You are friends?"

Fenris frowned. He had expected to be asked about Hawke's past. "I…if I can call anyone that, I think it is Hawke."

Sebastian ducked his head, feeling guilty. "I consider myself your friend, Fenris."

Raising his eyebrows, Fenris acknowledged, "I am not unappreciative of that. It is still somewhat new, for me."

Nodding, Sebastian rubbed his hand over his face. "You and she…you fight well together." Maker, this was difficult.

"Thank you," the elf replied sardonically. "We do it often enough that if we did not, we'd likely be dead."

"No. What I mean is that you seem to share a…fondness for the fight. You run to it. Together. I'd like to know, why?" He gulped at the wine cup he found in his hand.

Ah. Fenris shrugged. "I do not know." Drinking again, he hesitantly added. "Her brother fought with a greatsword. It is how she was trained. And I suppose, like calls to like."

Sebastian looked up sharply and Fenris caught a glimpse of something dark in the man's eyes. Jealousy, perhaps? "Like to like? What does that mean?"

Fenris rolled a mouthful of the Aggregio as he considered. "You know now, about her first year here?" Sebastian nodded, impatient. "Have you spoken with her about how she came by her training?" He hesitated. These were not his stories to share. Hawke would not care for him blurting out things she had said in confidence.

"We do not talk as often…as you do, I suppose."

Snorting, Fenris sat down the cup and fixed Sebastian with a sharp glare. "Then why are you here now, instead of asking her?"

"Maker knows." Sebastian shook his head. "No, that's not true. I often feel myself on shifting ground with Aeryn. I don't like to walk in without a map."

"The fact that you use her first name and she allows it might be an indication that you are not as unsteady as you might think." He paused. It was difficult to balance what he knew of Hawke and what he thought she would not mind him telling another. This other. "I will say this, Sebastian. When I first came to Kirkwall, fighting with Hawke was a terrifying experience. She was reckless beyond belief."

"More reckless than now?" He couldn't imagine.

"By far." Fenris nodded, grim. "She once leapt from a landing into the midst of a gang of raiders by the docks. It took Varric and I time to get to her. We did, about half a second before a maul caught her across the shoulders and sent her into the harbor." Fenris recalled his heart pounding as he fished her, laughing and filthy, out of the water. He'd been sure she was dead and had been surprised at how the thought had shaken him. "She had no sense of self preservation. And it stemmed somewhat from what she did that first year." He watched Sebastian's thoughts play across his face as he ate a roll. "Whatever she says, she was not happy. And if she was, it was not for good reasons."

They sat in silence for a minute listening to the fire crackle and the rafters creak in the crumbling building. "I will tell you why I am at Hawke's estate so often if you answer one question."

Sharply, Sebastian declaimed, "I didn't ask that."

"No, but you want to know. If you are my friend, I do not think you will hold it against me."

Sebastian winced at being read so easily. "Fine, then. Ask your question. I have no secrets."

Fenris doubted that was true, but he put it aside. Hawke might not need his protection, but he had fought by her side too long. He would have her back in this, as he did elsewhere, filling in her blind spot. He would feel unworthy of that trust, if he did not ask this of Sebastian. "Aren't you the one who hired her to kill your enemies? For that matter, you are a sworn brother. Why are you even here? What are you pursuing with Hawke?" His voice took a menacing quality as he finished, "Your rejection last night hurt her, whether she ever admits to it or not. Was that your intention?

"I think that's actually four questions." Sebastian mused. Automatic deflection was perhaps a side effect of being around Aeryn so long.

"Answer them." Fenris growled. He didn't seem to have picked up the habit of indirectness.

Sebastian leaned over with his elbows on his knees and shook his head. "I did hire her, its true. It was wrong of me to forget that. To the other...I'm not a brother any longer, in truth. Not until Elthina renews my vows. And…I don't know, Fenris." He ran his hands through his hair, roughly. "Truly. I have no intention of hurting her. I…she…It is complicated." He looked up at the elf, bafflement clear on his face. "This was not supposed to happen."

Dryly, Fenris took pity on the archer. "I think that happens quite a lot where Hawke is involved." He shared Sebastian's rueful chuckle. It was enough, he thought. Fenris was becoming more grateful by the minute that Isabela was straight-forward in her desires and required little in the way of romantic coddling. And Hawke was unlikely to enjoy the thought that he had interfered this far with whatever it was between her and Sebastian.

He took up his wine again, fortifying himself before admitting. "She is teaching me to read. And write." His head was tilted, longish hair obscuring him from Sebastian's knowing gaze as the man shifted from bewildered lover to consoling priest. Or friend.

"That is…I'm glad you have a teacher, then, if you want one." Shrewdly, he made no comment about why Fenris might not have learned before now. "Let me know if you would like to borrow from the Chantry library."

"Hawke's library is sufficient for the moment, thank you. And Isabela brings supplements on occasion." He indicated a stack next to his bed.

"I can imagine." Sebastian felt a little blush creep up his neck. Fenris smirked and was surprised when Sebastian returned it, making him look far less like a Chantry brother and more like he truly shared the wild streak the other rogues Fenris knew possessed.

They drank companionably for a while, until the fire beginning to crumble the logs. Sebastian recalled his earlier impulse to retire early and stood to go. "Thank you, Fenris."

He shrugged. "It is not me you should be talking to. But I am glad if I aided you."

"You did. It helped to admit to it, at least." He took up his bow from where it lay on the desk. "It is not a subject I care to bring up in confession and reconciliation anymore."

"No?" That had Fenris' attention.

"It isn't a sin." Jealousy had been a sin. Perhaps he had dealt with that, though.

There was a determined solidity to Sebastian that had been lacking when the man had approached Fenris.

"I don't mean to hurt her and I will endeavor to do better, as her friend at least. Good night, Fenris. Maker keep you."

"And you, Sebastian."

-000-

Afternote: I noticed in the playthrough without a Fenris romance that you could get to be buddies with him, without the romantic tension. He still seems very protective of Hawke. And I love the little signs of growing friendship between Sebastian and Fenris in the party banter. So, here's poor Fenris, attempting to play big brother.