Dragon Age 2 and all of its characters belong to Bioware.

AN: I know the lisping child in this chapter sounds very much like Terry Pratchett's Igor. I worship Terry as much as I worship Baz Lurhmann…but I think anyone who can make Hugh Jackman look devillishly good as an outback drover is a god in my books.

An eyewitness account of what happened afterwards during the infamous Give Fenris His Hawke convention:

So we were busy getting autographs, right…but Fenris just stood there looking all funny. I think it's 'cos this scary old prune appeared all of a sudden, like POOF! (minus the the sound, of course). Anyway, that old man must've been left his glasses at home, or maybe he's at the wrong event, 'cos he called Fenris a wolf. I mean, obviously he's not one! Adults are so funny sometimes.

Anyway, Lady Hawke appeared…along with Varric and whatzisface Chantry guy. They all get into this totally kickass awesome fight. There're dead guys, skeletons, 'sploding monkeys and everything. This is even more fun than watching those lame puppet shows Grandpappy always brought me to every weekend.

The dwarf beside me got so excited that he accidentally stabbed himself with his wooden sword. Don't ask me how that happened, but I'm happy to report that he's a-OK.

So, back to the fight…the old man fell down. Fenris did his magic fisting thing and everyone cheered! But we didn't get to have fun, because the City Guards came and wanted to arrest everyone. Lady Hawke managed to make an announcement, saying that she's marrying someone else, but I didn't even know she was married.

Anyway, so that's what happened. Please don't arrest me, Ser City Guard. All I want is an autograph, and I got it both from Lady Hawke and Fenris. I'm very happy and I promise I won't particepate in anymore ile illegal gatherings.

Sincerely:

Jason Powderly, age 6 yrs.

There was even a drawing of Fenris holding up a bleeding heart at the end, rendered in the crude, sketchy style children are prone to fall into.

Aveline shook her head at the image, a tiny smile gracing her face. This was by far the best report she'd ever read in the entire span of her guardswoman career. Instead of filing it away like any other document, she'd pinned it to a corkboard on the wall near her desk, and looked at it everytime she needed a bit of a laugh.

The cell was one of the cleaner ones. Sebastian had personally made sure of that. He even made sure that Flora was granted a more civil treatment compared to the other prisoners. Aveline had grumbled about that. Quite a mess had occurred at the warehouse that night, and someone had to be held responsible. The gathering was Flora's brainchild to begin with. Top it up with stalking and trespassing charges, along with kidnapping and conspiracy, there's no way Aveline could put it inside her report and let it come out smelling of roses.

Sebastian sat back at his end of the table, quietly studying his old friend. At least Flora was allowed visitors, but judging from her sullen expression, he was most likely the only one who came to see her.

His eyes flicked up to the two City Guards flanking her. She wasn't in chains – his princely insistance had ensured that. But of course Aveline had to compromise with something else.

"Are you being treated well?" he finally asked.

"Do you like prison food?"

"Not really, no." Stale bread and water were the standard fare, but of course he hadn't been in City Guard custody for long before. Drunken misdemeanour and brawling were his worst offense and even then there were ways of circumventing the issue.

"There's your answer, then."

"Flora, what you did was quite serious. Abducting Hawke over a –" he halted before the words 'piddling matter' could escape his lips. Never downplay a fangirl's obsession. He won't hear the end of it if he did. "We could've sat down and talked about this like civil people. I've practically known you my whole life. Why can't you be upfront with such matters?"

"Would you have married me if you weren't with her?"

Sebastian blinked. It was a rather odd question. He knew about her childhood crush towards him. Hells, he remembered mercilessly teasing her for it and she'd always run off embarassed. He was an ass, sure…but for her to go through such ridiculous lengths just break him and Marian apart was…well, to put it rather plainly: ridiculous.

He could go self-righteous about this and start the lecturing and finger wagging on what a poor character Flora was, but what good would that do? He was partly to blame for this. How many times had she sat in the sidelines while he drifted from one fling to the next without sparing a thought towards her feelings? If this was truly a culmination of years of frustrated longing, then he should man up and do something about it.

"Flora," he said as gently as possible. "I've always seen you as a sister, as a best friend. You have been very good to me all these years, and I'll never forget that. The only thing I could offer is an apology for my selfishness, and I hope you'd accept that."

"Oh, stuff your apology, Sebastian," Flora snarled. "You're way past that. It doesn't matter anyway. Now all I have to do is sit back and watch as she does to you what you did to me. It'll be an entertaining show, I promise you."

Sebastian's expression hardened. "Now you listen here, Flora. Marian may not be perfect, but I will not have you bring her into matters that she had no hand in."

Flora laughed bitterly. "Still defending her virtue, I see. The Chantry certainly had shoved a stick so far up your arse that you end up blind. Make no mistake, Sebastian. Marian still loves Fenris, and I doubt that would ever change. I have proof, you know. You really think she went on an Antivan holiday months ago? I have people who've seen her fighting mages in Minrathous during that time. Apparently she'd been trying to bargain for Fenris's freedom with his master and it didn't end well."

"What?" said Sebastian, scarcely able to believe what he heard. "You're lying!"

"Why would I do that, hm? Now, of all times? I'm in prison, awaiting my sentence. There's nothing else I can do."

"Have respect for her, Flora. She lost her mother that time, and she needed time to grieve."

"Oh, and grieve she did. She bought that rundown shack Fenris lives in and gave it to him. I bet you didn't know that. She'd been cosying up with Seneschal Bran , so maybe she got an excellent deal out of him. And –" at this point Flora chuckled derisively, "perhaps Bran got something from her as well. Who knows what people do during these complicated business meetings?"

Sebastian's voice was becoming low, dangerous. "You stop right there, woman, or so help me Maker I will-"

"You will what? Hit me? Please. You lost your fangs ages ago. When your parents abandoned you. When you fell for that two-faced Marian. You're nothing but a sappy halfwit, Sebastian. I heard you can't even make proper decisions without Marian guiding you along. This is the man who will take over the throne someday? Hah, I'd rather pit in my chances with Goran."

"Why don't you, then? He's a spineless bastard. You two should be compatible with each other. That's what your mother initially wanted, isn't it?"

"I don't want him!" Flora exclaimed. "You don't get it. You never will. Nobody's ever rejected you You're so used to have things go your way that you can't see what it's like for people like me."

"You're talking through your hat, Flora. You're part of a powerful family, you could pick anyone to be your husband-"

"I did," said Flora, the beginnings on a tear pooling the corners of her eyes. "But he refused. Many times." It fell then, the tears, onto her cheeks and eventually her lap. They quietly disappeared, very much like her infatuation throughout the years.

Sebastian shook his head, unable to comfort her. Flora was wrong. He understood rejection, but in a much different capacity than hers. The third son of a dynasty could never amount to much, and there was a moment in his life where he'd given up being good at anything simply for the reason that he'd be too far in someone else's shadow for his parents to notice.

Now, more than ever, he had a chance to shine…but ironically, he had to be in the shadows again in order to achive that. Perhaps that was his curse: his inability to make decisions simply because there were always other people who'd make it for him.

"Marian's planning to do something at the Circle," said Flora. "She's been squirelling their building plans out of the Keep and studying them for months. She'd even been oiling her way around the Templars. I don't know what she's up to. Either she's doing the mages in, or she's secretly working for them. She's also been holing up at that Darktown healer's clinic, Maker knows doing what."

"Anders?" Sebastian frowned.

"Is that his name? Makes no difference to me. I'm sure it does to you. Oh, and she's been slipping up the Chantry's bell tower too. The last time she did that, it was with Fenris. They were up there for a very long time too." Flora chuckled, again without humour. She fixed her gaze squarely towards Sebastian and gave him a look that was both sardonic and pitying at once.

"Your fiancee's fooling around under your very nose, and you still think the world of her," she said. "Hah, I can't decide who'd the greater fool here: myself, or you. You'd better watch your step, Sebastian. You're in love with a viper, make no mistake about that. She'll stab you in the back, and she'll even smile as she does it. Don't say I didn't warn you afterwards."

It's been a week after Danarius's death, one week after that funny little incident at the warehouse area…and the fact was, nobody cared. The world had turned up its collar and moved on. What's another despot, anyway? The important thing was Satinalia's coming, and once more the colours of Kirkwall were changing.

Fenris found himself being dragged out of his home by a suspiciously enthusiastic Marian. She'd broken tradition again by dressing up in her evening's finest, and that was the only reason he'd allowed himself to be taken away from his all-important job of brooding.

"This is completely unnecessary, Hawke," he grumbled.

Marian merely laughed.

She brought him to the orphanage, where already there was some sort of party going on. This time Fenris actually dug in his heels.

"If this is another fan session-"

"No, it's not. Don't worry," said Marian, holding fast to his arm. "It's just a traditional Satinalia play. The children do this every year, and they've personally invited us. Come on, Fenris. For the orphans? I promise you it's nothing as crazy as you-know-what."

Fenris sighed. Trust Hawke to play dirty. First she gets all dolled up, and then she emotionally bribes him with children. And they were very happy to see him too. They crowded around him, asked him interested questions, and he awkwardly tried to answer most of them.

Finally, Elthina clapped her hands and summoned them to the performance area, where a stage had been set with rows of chairs for the audience.

"Shouldn't you be doing this with Sebastian?" Fenris grumbled as they took their seats.

"Oh, he didn't tell you? He's gone out of town to take care of business."

"Important enough for him to miss the holidays? Must be serious, then. You two didn't get into a fight, did you?"

"Poncy princely stuff, darling," Marian said airily, lacing an arm around his. "I don't want to bore you with details. Even I don't understand half of it."

A skeptical glance was the only response she got out of him, but mercifully he didn't say anything.

The truth was, Sebastian's departure was marred by less than positive feelings between them. She'd never expected him to sucker punch her with a difficult question, but then he wouldn't be Sebastian if he didn't. As she'd noted before, he had a tendency to stealth around relationship landmines and spring them when no one was ready.

If you have the chance of backing out of our marriage, would you take it?

Even now Marian's innards curled at the memory. She remembered his face: so calm, so purposeful and yet turned away from her. His posture remained rigid, as if he was mentally steeling himself for the answer. How can a pleasant dinner suddenly turn into this?

I know about you and Fenris. Don't bother denying it.

So she didn't. I won't.

Sebastian had sighed heavily. Marian, I don't want to turn this into a confrontation. Let's just be rational about this, he'd said.

"Sorry…"

"No, don't apologize for anything yet. Just…answer me."

"I don't do sappy confessions, Sebastian."

"Then do honest."

"Fenris is a ghost. And I hate chasing one."

"But you still do." The weight of that statement was far greater than him accusing her of adultery. "I may not be the smartest person, but even I can see you've been out of sorts lately. I'm done being the second fiddle, Marian. Everyone knows Fenris is the leading man in your story."

"Leading men aren't always reliable, Sebastian."

"You should really think this through. Neither one of us would want to get into something we're not sure of."

"Where are you going?" Marian asked, seeing him rise.

He hesitated. "Away. I hope when I see you again, you'll have your answer by then."

"What is this blasted show for, anyway?" Fenris hissed rather too loudly.

"You've never seen a nativity play? It's some feel good holy stuff, but they're usually of Andraste and her rise as prophet. You know I hate religion, but I actually don't mind seeing children perform them, because they're not hypocrites."

But Fenris was proving himself to be one of those public nuisances in cinemas. He went on with his not so sotto voce tone: "What's the point of showing something people already know?"

"Classics never die. Besides, it's not as boring as you might think. There's bound to be some kid with stage fright and messes his lines and then things'll get interesting. Never underestimate the ad libbing powers of a six-year-old."

For a moment, Fenris seemed to be appeased. But he fidgeted in his seat again and leaned over. "I know why you're doing this," he said.

"You do?"

"You wish for me to talk about Danarius, how I feel about his-"

"That's enough." This time Marian turned to face him. "I brought you here simply because it's Satinalia. No other reason. You'll talk about Danarius only when you're well and truly ready, and I understand that. I know you, Fenris. I'm not expecting anything except for you to enjoy yourself. Now shut up and hear Elthina out!"

The room was dark, save for the lights on the stage. Elthina was in the middle of a speech, thanking them all for coming and asking them to enjoy themselves. She stepped off, and the play began.

Marian parked her brain elsewhere and settled down for at least 30 minutes of mindless entertainment. As the familiar characters washed over her, she lapsed into an amused stupor as she watched the children go over their routine. She perked up during the infamous execution scene. It was always her favourite part of all. Ha, serve you right, stupid Andraste. You busted your arse saving those ingrates and see what you get in the end. Now where's that pansypants Hessarian?

"And tho Andrathte burned at the pyre," the narrator droned in lispy tones. "Everyone cheered and drank the communal wine. But Andrathte wathn't really Andrathte. It'th actually Lady Hawke, and she's about to be rethcued by Thomeone Really Important!"

Marian frowned. Eh? Did she hear correctly? It can't be the kid was so struck by her Champion star power that he actually forgot the script?

"Everyone thcream for Fenrith!"

Someone leapt onto the stage, and it was a junior Fenris. Apparently some elven kid had been roped in for the production, and he'd tackled his role with gusto. Budget restrictions indicated that they couldn't afford an exact Fenris outfit replica, so the actor had to make do with a black cape instead. His noodle arms were brandishing an oversized wooden sword, and he was trying to look ferocious it was cute. Marian could almost believe that that was how Fenris looked like when he was younger.

Beside her, the real Fenris buried his face in one hand and uttered a small sob. Why, oh why? Of all the ways to desecrate Andraste's death, they had to drag his name into it. If they wanted to turn this into a comedy, then it was certainly done in bad taste.

The rest of the crowd began stirring about in their seats. Is this part of the play? Who wrote the plot? Why is the Champion in it? This is utter blasphemy! The children, however, were overjoyed at the sight of their favourite hero. They clapped and cheered as 'Fenris' tore about the stage, battling mages, soldiers and one innocuous background prop. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his white wig, but he was too excited to notice. The rest of the actors were creative enough to add fake blood, but if this was an actual prime time show, it would've earned a PG rating.

"The great Fenrith has come to thave the day!" crowed the narrator. "Thee how he dodgeth the bad guyth and cut them down with thwashbuckling moves!" Marian knew the kid was really excited, for she could see a shower of spittle come out when he said the word 'swashbuckling'.

She shrank in her seat and tried to be invisible. Fenris continued watching with the stony expression of a man determined to endure the pain by hook or by crook. Grand Cleric Elthina was seriously debating whether or not to stop the play. Sister Petrice sat smugly in her seat, brimming with self-importance. It was her production, after all…and she was proud to see it through.

Andraste/ Lady Hawke was finally rescued from the pyre, and 'Fenris' gingerly held her as he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. This apparently mortified her, as she turned a bright shade of red.

"And tho, Fenrith wath once again The Hero," the narrator concluded to Andraste's hysterical screams as she ran offstage, "and he went away with Lady Hawke to a secret place so that they can make lots of Fenbabies. The end."

The applause came hesitantly, as if nobody was sure whether it was truly finished and everyone was hoping for a blooper showreel to come in the end.

"We're doomed with Fenbabies for the rest of our lives," Fenris deadpanned.

"Makes battling Alpha Genlocks everyday all the more attractive, doesn't it?" said Marian, warily watching Sister Petrice march towards them.

"Champion," the Chantry nun said, "I trust you enjoyed our little entertainment tonight?"

Marian didn't like the crafty way she was rubbing her hands together, but she gave her a winning smile nonetheless. "It's nice to see something different for once."

"And what of you, Ser Fenris? I believe you too are deserving of the Champion title."

Fenris snorted. "Please, spare me the mindless grovelling. This is nothing more than a waste of time, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop stomping my foot on purpose, Hawke."

"Oh, dear…is that what I was doing?" Marian said innocently. "This is a casual event, Fenris. Spikes and sourpuss venoms aren't compulsory accessories. Let's save that for when we crash Seneschal Bran's soiree, shall we?"

"You're really going to that detestable man's house later?"

Marian turned towards Sister Petrice, who was still smiling uncertainly. "He enjoyed it as well. Especially the unexpected plot twist-"

"You mean: butchering," came the dark muttering beside her.

"I'm glad," Sister Petrice beamed. "Perhaps you might like to personally congratulate the performers. They've been practicing for days to get it right, and to actually get Lady Hawke and Ser Fenris to come and watch was truly an honour."

"C'mon, Fenris," said Marian, tugging his arm. "If we're lucky we can get autographs."

The orphans were absolutely thrilled with their presence. Some of them didn't even know who Lady Hawke was, being far more interested in Fenris. Marian was ever the professional celebrity: she gamely smiled and answered their questions, bestowed hugs and kisses wherever needed, and even accepted the occasional hastily-made spray of flowers.

Fenris found himself face-to-face – or rather, navel-to-face with the actor who played him. The boy was so starstruck he was close to swooning. He stared, wide-eyed at Fenris's dour expression and was struck with the indecision of whether to worship this man or to die.

Fenris broke into one of his rare smiles, nodding approvingly and congratulating him. He then squatted down and proceeded to give the boy tips of warrior breathing exercises.

Marian rejoined Fenris with a knowing grin on her face. He tried his best to ignore it.

"Admit it," she said after the boy had left, "You enjoyed this."

"I'll admit nothing," Fenris shot back, although his initial frown seemed to have disappeared. "But…thank you."

"For the play? Look, it wasn't my idea. I was just as surprised as you are-"

"No…no. For everything."

"You've already done that. If you thank me anymore, you'll embarrass me."

She suddenly stiffened. Fenris had taken her hand and was gripping it tightly. For a person who almost never initiated any physical contact, this was certainly a surprise.

"You know I'm no good with words," he said. "How else will I show you my gratitude?"

"I'm always partial to a box of chocolates. Or socks. You can never have enough."

"Seriously, Marian."

"I wasn't joking!"

"You're beautiful."

Marian's grin faded. The sudden flush on her cheeks was a good enough response.

Fenris leaned over and for a moment it seemed as if he was on a collision course towards kissing her – but he veered suddenly to the left and whispered in her ear: "Are you sure you're going home afterwards?"

"Shit, Fenris. If you keep pulling pickup lines out of your arse at the most unexpected times, where would I be?"

The elf hesitated. "I'm actually unsure whether I should be flattered or insulted by that," he said, pulling back.

Marian laughed, and tilted her head to watch the heavens. Hm, starry skies tonight. Seems like a shame to be spending it indoors. The weight of ultimatum was still heavy on her shoulders, and yet it seemed like a distant memory as she looked back at Fenris's expectant expression. He was still holding her hand.

"The night is still young," she said, slowly and deliberately.

"And?"

"What the hell? It's Satinalia night. Let's go somewhere and get plastered. Let's misbehave!"

Episode the next: It ain't a romance if there isn't some moonlit hanky-panky.