"Marian? Are you up, dear?"

Hawke sat up in bed, groggily reaching for some scrap of cover as she heard her mother's voice. The sheets and coverlet were all gone, though she could see them nearby on the floor. Anders was asleep beside her, his expression devoid of the usual lines of worry and strain.

"That nice young man from the Chantry is here," Leandra said through the door.

"Shit," Hawke sighed, getting up and walking to the door nude. She put a hand against it, "Give me a minute, mother."

"Did I wake you, dear?" Leandra continued, "What are you doing sleeping at this hour? It's almost midday."

For once, Hawke had no snippy reply, "Just tell him I'll be down shortly."

"Don't keep him waiting," she said, and her steps could be heard moving away.

Hawke sighed, closing her eyes before looking back to the bed. Seeing him still sprawled there made her smile. She walked to her wardrobe and quietly got some clothing. Standing looking at the fire, she laced up the plain breeches. She jumped slightly when his arm snuck around her waist.

"I didn't want to wake you," she softly said. "You seemed so peaceful."

"It's the best I've slept in a very long time," he replied, his other arm winding around to pull her snug against him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he said, "I love you. I wanted you to know that."

Hawke dropped her chin, smoothing her hand over his and earning a stubbly nuzzle, "You don't have to say that."

"I say it because I mean it," he whispered, lips just below her ear. "You are so soft, you smell divine, and just having you in my arms... It gives me so much."

"I love you too," she quietly replied, turning in his arms to kiss him. Standing half-naked against his slender body, their tongues met and he sighed, tugging at her. Hawke smiled in his lips and withdrew, "There is a guest to see me though. Stay... relax. Make yourself at home."

"A little while, at least," Anders said, running his fingers into her hair to kiss her cheek and the curve of her jaw. "The clinic needs me."

Reluctantly pulling from his arms, Hawke snagged her shirt, and paused at her desk to hastily tug a brush through her long brown hair. Securing it back with a bit of leather, she looked back at Anders, from where he sat on the bed admiring her.

She walked with a swagger towards the door, swaying her hips for his benefit and earning a shake of his head.

Out in the house proper, Hawke descended the stairs to find her mother conversing with Sebastian by the fire. The pair turned their attention from the mabari hound, who rose to greet his mistress as she approached.

"Ahh hello, your grace," Hawke said, ruffling the dogs ears as she offered Sebastian a politic smile. "Your highness, I had not expected you to come calling so soon."

Leandra looked scandalized, almost fumbling, "I - I apologize, messere, I did not know."

Sebastian shook his head, smiling sweetly, "Please, it is just Sebastian, serah Hawke. I am but a brother of the Chantry to you, madam. I gave that up long ago."

Under her daughter's watchful eye, Leandra smiled kindly and nodded, "I'll keep that in mind, and leave you two to your business."

"That is quite the mabari you have," Sebastian said, clasping his hands together behind him. "I have read they are a mark of nobility in Ferelden."

"Yes," Hawke said, crossing her arms and looking down at the dog. "His grace is so very noble, particularly when he drools on your pillow, or chews up a book."

The hound dubiously rumbled, glancing between Hawke and the brother before padding after Leandra into the pantry.

Sebastian laughed lightly, nodding, "I can imagine."

"Is there something I might help you with?" Hawke lightly said, running a hand up the back of her neck.

"You have done more than anyone, serah," Sebastian's voice softened, and he looked down. "You helped me face temptation greater than I ever could have imagined. What happened to the Harrimann's was... horrific."

"No less horrific than what happened to your family," Hawke said. She inclined her head, "Theirs was a tragedy of consequence, while yours was... simply unspeakable."

"You have your own share of difficulty, serah," he quietly said, looking towards the fire. "If it is the will of the Maker, through Him we will find the righteous path. Their reckoning has already come."

Hawke pursed her lips into a thin line, offering no reply.

"But I did not come here to offer you a sermon," Sebastian chuckled and retrieved a book from his satchel. "I wished to give you this in thanks - it is something I have often enjoyed in my reflections."

Turning the book in her hands, Hawke smoothed her fingers along the spine, "Ser Andrew?" She opened it and raised her brow, "I am familiar with 'Death of a Templar'."

"This is another of his works," Sebastian said. "I have found his writing to be quite soothing. It is very poetic."

"It is," Hawke quietly said, tucking the book under her arm and smiling at him. "Thank you. It is a very... specific gift."

"I hope you will enjoy it as much as I," Sebastian looked down, before clearing his throat and smiling. "It was good to see you, serah Hawke."

"And it was kind of you to stop by," Hawke turned as there was the sound of movement upstairs. "But I must attend to other matters, I'm afraid."

Sebastian followed her gaze to where Anders stood upstairs, the mage shuffling his feathered coat on. A blush rose on his cheeks, "Oh I... yes. I see. I - I am sorry for intruding, serah."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," Hawke smiled brightly, taking Sebastian's arm and leading him to the door.

Anders had made it down the stairs by the time she returned, a smirk on his lips, "Were you torturing that chaste man?"

"Only a little," Hawke said with a cheshire smile. "He brought it upon himself, entreating on my territory."

"Indeed," Anders laughed.

"And how could I resist! It's like asking Fenris to come help us free one of your apostate friends," Hawke smiled still as he stepped close, and she slipped a hand over his feathered shoulder. "I can't be expected to resist the temptation to get under their skin!"

"You're terrible," he chuckled again, kissing her briefly. He pulled back when someone coughed.

"Oh," Anders turned stiffly, clearing his throat and bowing his head. "Mistress Amell - it's a pleasure."

"It's good to see you, Anders," Leandra replied, casually walking towards them with a plate of biscuits. "Some late breakfast perhaps."

Anders glanced to Hawke, who only seemed to smile brightly and accept the biscuit, "Ah yes, thank you. That is very kind of you."

"I have some water in the kettle for tea as well, if you're able to stay," Leandra glanced from her daughter back at him.

Looking to Hawke for approval, who merely kept her brow raised, Anders cleared his throat and broke the bread, "I - I need to get to my clinic. I am already late for when they usually expect me."

"A pity," Leandra replied, turning to put the tray down on Hawke's desk. "Perhaps another time." She drifted back into the kitchen.

Anders let out a pent up breath, turning to Hawke, "Maker's breath, that was even worse."

"It wasn't so bad," Hawke smiled, leaning to kiss him again, albeit chastely.

"Yes, because I shouldn't worry at all about your mother. You've only had a possessed mage spend the night," Anders murmured, letting her take his hands. He softly sighed.

"And my father was an apostate," Hakwe replied. "If anything, I am only taking after her. Who can resist a sexy rogue mage's charms?"

Anders chuckled uncomfortably before embracing Hawke, "If you knew what was good for you." Holding her a moment, he said, "I'll see you soon, I hope?"

"If it is what tickles your fancy, by all means," Hawke said, accepting another kiss before he turned for the door. Watching in the silence, she softly sighed before smiling to herself and following her mother. Leandra was at the servant's table in the kitchen - where they took most of their meals. She rose when Hawke entered to retrieve some of the cut fruit nearby and pour her a cup of tea. They were quiet a while.

"I suppose I can find comfort in the fact that I do not need to canvas for a husband for you," Leandra finally said when she sat back beside her daughter.

"A job you gave yourself, I might add," Hawke smirked and accepted the tea. She looked down into the cup.

"I know, dear," Leandra chuckled and took her daughters hand. "So which one has your interest then?"

Hawke laughed too, putting her cheek into her other hand and looking at her mother, "Well, considering it was Anders who came down the stairs from my bedroom..."

"Oh," Leandra looked at her own tea, before laughing again. "Not the noble? What is he - a prince?"

"Yes, he's a prince. Prince of Starkhaven." Hawke murmured before adding, "And a sanctified born-again virgin of the Chantry."

"Hardly for you then," Leandra smiled, taking her tea in both hands.

"Indeed," Hawke said, eyes softening. "Anders on the other hand..."

"He's a mage, isn't he?"

"Like mother, like daughter," Hawke inhaled, date from the plate. "What else can I say?"

"Why haven't I seen him more? Or do you run off with him and the others in Lowtown?"

Hawke laughed, leaning back in her chair, "We are actually doing things, mother. I promise. Not just drinking at the Hanged Man."

"No, but it factors strongly, I'm sure."

Rolling her eyes, Hawke grinned, "He doesn't even drink, I assure you. Won't let himself."

"Maybe he'll be good for you then," Leandra amended.

"Not if you ask him," Hawke quietly said.

Leandra nodded, smile softening, "That sounds like your father. Give it time. He'll stop trying to convince you otherwise."

"I hope so," Hawke murmured. "I get tired of hearing it sometimes. Oh, I'm not normal, you deserve better, our life will never be normal."

"He's right in part," Leandra said, looking at her daughter with concern. "Life with a mage isn't easy, my dear."

Hawke put her hand back over her mother's, "And when has my life ever been easy, sweet mother?"

Leandra chuckled and shook her head, "Then just be happy." She was on her feet, pausing to hug Hawke and kiss the top of her head, "Thank you for keeping it down at least, and letting an old woman get her rest."

As Leandra left, Hawke laughed and covered her face, "Sodding hell."