Game dialog warning. Not much, but setting up the endgame, I'm trying to be accurate.

Bioware owns all, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Shelter: Chapter 25

Anders had handed him a draught to help her sleep before they left the clinic. "She won't want to take it, but she needs the sleep, Vael." He'd palmed it and promised to try, but the mage had been right. She'd eyed the small flask like he was handing her one of her venoms.

"No."

"But...Anders said..." If it was a chance to stave off her nightmares...they'd been doing well, but the deaths on Sundermount were going to haunt her. And him.

"No. If I take that..." She shuddered and looked very small in the huge bed. "I've got myself pretty well trained to wake up if I get a really bad one, Sebastian. If I take that, I won't be able to." Fear edged in on her face and he set the bottle aside. He'd trust her over Anders. He wouldn't want to be trapped in the Fade's nightmares either.

He slid in next to her and she came easily into his arms. He had knelt and prayed earlier, but he whispered the prayer he kept for her into her hair.

"See? I have you to pray for me. What could get to me through that?" And though there was a slight jibe to her tone, there was also the fact that she'd relaxed completely in his arms as he whispered.

And whether it was the Maker's protection or utter exhaustion, they both slept soundly.

The nightmares didn't come for them until the next night.

He woke up first, feeling the memory of elvhen children's frightened faces and her blood gushing trail off of him. Aeryn was still asleep, curled into a ball on her side, turned away from him, as she often did if he didn't pull her back to his side. It was still and black outside and he grabbed his trews to pad downstairs for something to drink.

He came back to her arching up off the bed, sweating and whimpering. Sebastian set the tumblers aside to reach for her but she was suddenly turning like an adder to hold a blade between them. Maker. "Aeryn!" She opened her eyes but she didn't see him, tracking on something in her dream. "Leannan " He stilled himself, ready to jump, dropping his pulse and making his breathing shallow. Low and soothing he whispered to her until she tilted her head, focused on his voice and returned to him.

She dropped the knife onto the bed and pressed her palms into her eyesockets, before dragging her hands down her face to look at him. "Blighted Void. Maker, Sebastian, I'm so sorry."

She sat up on her haunches to run her hands over his torso, his arms, the line of his throat. He let her move his head from side to side, checking him over. "Oh, love, did I hurt you?" Flaming Void. She could have.

He took her hands then and pulled her to him, shaking and damp with sweat. "No, mo chridhe. I'm fine. You weren't aimed at me."

"Doesn't matter. Still could have..." Terror at the possibility sent her limp against him. "Maybe I should sleep somewhere else."

"No." He'd waited too long to share her bed. He'd risk her knife at his throat every night.

"But...Sebastian, if I hurt you it would..." It would absolutely destroy me. She didn't say it, but he felt it in the tremble of her rough little fingers across his face.

His voice went taut and commanding in its warm brogue. "No. Absolutely not." He softened a bit and curved his hands to frame her sweet, worried face. "You trust me not to hurt you, Aeryn. Even though I spent nights dreaming of it." He turned his face to press kisses into her palms. "I've got my share of faith and yours, too, run biodagain. You won't."

His assurance ran warmth through her fear and she nodded against his chest. "Alright. Still. Let's take some of the possibility out." They spent a few minutes stripping the bed. She had one tucked between the mattress and the frame and another in a sheath behind the headboard. And three small ones worked into the cording of the mattress itself. Not to mention the little chest on her nightstand that held a small curved blade she could palm and four delicate shock bombs. He'd thought it was a jewelcase. She piled them all into her weapons chest and shut the lid before sitting back on the bed.

He leaned against a poster and rubbed his hand across his mouth, hiding a rueful smile.

"What?"

"I'm a little surprised I haven't bled to death in the middle of the night, to be honest."

She bit her lip and cast her eye down for a second and he'd thought he'd struck too low a blow, but she was smirking when she glanced back up. "Well, you're not the one who's had Carta dwarves try and kidnap you in your all together to drag you before their lord. Nor opened your wardrobe to find a thrillseeker waiting."

"I jest, mo chridhe. I know whose bed I've taken to." Sebastian smiled a slow curving smile that pulled her attention to his mouth and made her breath run shallow. He did know how to distract her from her thoughts. "We've missed one." Aeryn frowned and counted.

"No...this is all. I know my inventory." On looking back up, she discovered him standing over her with a familiar blaze in his eyes.

He slipped a hand up her knee to her bare thigh, rubbing his thumb deeply into the muscle. "My favorite one." His other hand matched the movement on the other thigh and he leaned down to purr in her ear. "Haven't seen it all day, though. Maybe I should check for you."

Her posture shifted from penitent to alluring as she parted her knees and leaned back on her hands and he felt a wicked sense of accomplishment swell. "Maybe you should. It would never do for us to become complacent." Smoky eyes under lashes tipped redgold by candlelight trapped his as she ran her tongue across her lower lip. He leaned in to nip the glistening plumped skin before slipping down between her thighs.

He lingered over her breasts, mouthing one peak and suckling a small mark just at the crest. She arched back and he drew the other nipple into his mouth, worrying it with gentle teeth. "Ah, love." He kissed down to his target, pressing a warm wet kiss to the cup of her navel as he passed.

Oh, yes. Still there. He traced it with the tip of his tongue and whispered against her smooth skin, "Tell me how you came by this, Aeryn." He was hard already, the sight of her spread for him bringing him full to attention in a minute. He wanted to be buried in her, but the taste of her was an equal draw. Choices. Such luxuries.

"Now?" She was sitting curled around him, running her fingers through his hair. Surrounding him with her humid scent of almonds and woman. He nuzzled into her belly, letting his teeth skim her creamy skin and smiling as she purred.

"Tell me a story, while I earn my keep, hmm."

She chuckled and he delicately brushed her mound with his nose, making her catch her breath. "Ah. Well, it's not much of a tale and it involves my brother...shall I continue?"

Looking up, he blinked his beautiful eyes at her. She smirked down at him and traced his neat, arrogant eyebrow. "No...I don't suppose I want to be hearing about your brother just at the moment. Another time." He shook the thought away. His thumbs delved into her slick and her bright gaze disappeared behind fluttering lashes. He gave her a smirk of his own and set to his task, parting and baring her to his tongue. He swirled it over her clitoris and she gave a sweet little cry. She'd never hidden this from him, not one reaction. Gifts from the Maker.

Around and across, flick and swirl while she twitched her hips and murmured and sighed and as he sucked the erect hard little nub, a begging whimper. Her hands tugged in his hair and he let her pull him up and Aeryn twisted unexpectedly, landing him on his back. Blessing upon blessing, he thought as she lowered herself on his thick, hard cock and he hilted in her tight sheath.

He dug his fingers into her hips and she smiled at the thought of the prints he'd leave on her, purple on the pale skin. Sebastian had been upset the first time he'd seen the results of his passion tightened grip until she'd proceeded to tell him the exact thought that echoed through her every time she looked at his marks. His. Utterly and completely. He'd seemed alright, then.

Aeryn kept up the slow steady gyration. wanting to spin out the feeling of him buried in her, filling her. She was his and he was hers and if it was yet new it was still the safest she had felt in years, having him where she could reach him.

She'd need to be more careful about her weapons, though.

The icy fear threatened to creep back on her but she rubbed his nipple with the scarred pad of her thumb before giving it a little pinch and twist, drawing a moan out of him as he arched his spine. Her smile slipped darkly, he was almost as sensitive there as she was. Altering her angle she could lave one tiny point, then the other with a questing tongue and listen to him whisper the urgent little love words he seemed best able to express in his native tongue and the chill melted back again.

Nothing to fear in the dark, the shadows couldn't draw her down, not with her Sebastian sunk deep in her and his voice in her ear and his hands anchoring her, supporting her as she rose and dropped. Nothing but light in him, throwing the dark off. Dragging flickers of flame slid from her core out to the rest of her as he thrust in time with her, sliding in then nearly out then back home again. And..and. oh. She let him take the rhythm as everything in her, thought to breath to heart, stuttered.

-000-

"You didn't take the sleeping draught, did you?" The mage's tone was exasperated as he examined the woman on his table.

Aeryn flashed him a grin and a dimple and shook her head. "You aren't going to lecture me are you, Serah 'those things don't work on Warden dreams'?"

"You needed the sleep."

"I got it. I just have better ways of rendering myself unconscious." And so does Sebastian, but she refrained from bringing him up to Anders.

He knew what she meant, though. It used to be his favorite way to beat back the nightmares, too. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes.

He was slumping and pale as though he were the one recuperating from half of his blood being yanked out of his veins. He'd fallen on the rabbit pie like he hadn't eaten in days. She poked his thigh with her booted toe. "Hey, what's up?"

He didn't want to. He didn't want to involve her, especially not now, but the fact was that he couldn't do it alone and the Mage Collective was no more in Kirkwall. Everyone was dead or gone...Vengeance flared in his heart and he only just tamped it down. Soon. Soon.

"I need your help, Hawke."

"Your wish, Anders, is my command." Something gleamed in his once gentle eyes. Alright, poor word choice. Six years ago and, still, she sighed inwardly. That'll teach me to be a flirt with a fragile man. "Where do we need to go?"

-000-

"Aeryn!"

He'd dashed back from the Chantry. He'd meant to stay and meditate longer, but he'd overheard a conversation that had sent him sprinting. She had planned to see Anders that morning, but hopefully she'd returned.

She was at the table with Orana, polishing the house silver. There was a bit of smut across the bridge of her nose and her bangs were too long and threatening to start falling over her eyes as she eyed down one gleaming blade. "Mistress, we aren't expecting them to fillet their dinners with these." Orana was saying in a tone that would qualify as exasperated for her.

"What is the point of knives if they aren't sharp?" Aeryn's voice mocked her servant gently and the elf giggled as Aeryn smirked. It sounded like an old game and normally he'd be charmed by it but... They looked up at Sebastian's unusually clattering entry and concern crossed her face. "Sebastian? Love, what...?" She stood as if expecting a horde behind him, one hand tightening around the butter knife.

"Has Bodahn received...here it is." He pawed through the pile of messages the dwarf had left for her perusal and tossed it to her. She popped the crested seal open with the knife. Orana did not sigh. But she thought about it.

"Dear Champion, Please meet me in the Keep. King Alistair"

She looked up at his open anticipation and paused. She'd been about to be sarcastic, but...look at him. All bright eyes and expectant face.

"Ah. Is this legit? I mean, it's nice paper...and that's a lovely seal, definitely the seal of Ferelden. But it's quite...lacking in...ah..'all hail the king-ness.'" And this penmanship was a bit sloppy, if she were honest.

"He's here. The Keep was buzzing. I believe the Knight Commander was on her way in from the Gallows." She didn't look interested at all. He frowned at her. "Aeryn, the King of Ferelden, the man who was second to the Hero, is requesting your attendance."

"So it appears." Sebastian was practically bouncing on his toes. "And?"

He deflated a little at her lack of enthusiasm. "Aren't you curious as to what he wants?" Oh, he was excited and I've spoiled it. She tilted her head at him, considering. Yes, she supposed...Alistair was Sebastian's contemporary. A good connection to have a king in your corner and he might even make a more personal alliance. That would be good for Sebastian in coming days. He'd told her that the nobles of Starkhaven were both less fawning and less available to the Prince than the Kirkwall equivalents. He'd need a royal pal, for lack of a better word.

She grinned at him and handed him back the invitation. "I am. I'm just a little surprised. Though, I shouldn't be, I suppose." The king did have something of a reputation for maintaining his soldierly straight-forwardness and easy going charm from former days. She was rewarded for her concession with a return of his bounce and fought back a laugh. She glanced down at herself. Bit of a mess again, though.

"Let's see what armor I have that doesn't make me look like a reaver, hmm." The traditional Champion's armor was overly aggressive, with its little claws and talons and spurs. Not to mention that none of the armorers she'd found could fix the rents and gouges without breaking the charms. It wasn't something she cared to wear day to day. She went to find Bodahn, with his merchant's mind for inventory.

Sebastian busied himself polishing up his armor. Have to invest in something less...overt. It wasn't the most practical armor for an archer and yes, he had come to see why the others had mocked the placement of his buckle. Not to mention he'd caught the light at inappropriate times and yet...as Prince, he would need to catch the eye. He'd see what the king wore, see if there was a tip to be had.

Half a mark later, Aeryn trotted down the stairs in her new leathers. Bodahn and his secret sources had tracked them down and he'd kept them for a special opportunity. These were better shaped to suit her, Sebastian thought, dark wyvernhide with charms worked into the skin molding to her curves. The dragonbone buckles were buffed to absorb light as opposed to reflecting. Half-gloves left her sensitive fingertips free for their less legal tasks. A hood to hide her gleaming hair and pale face from revealing light. She looked dangerous, down to the wry twist of her lips.

They stood in the hall for a minute. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I think he'll want to meet you without much pomp, leannan. The note indicates an informal approach. That means he'll likely be attended only by a second, someone he trusts. So don't..." Wait. Ah, no. He didn't want to indicate that she would act inappropriately. She had a facet for every occasion he knew, but she also had a tendency to treat authority with far less respect than with which she approached more average people. As if something in her wanted to tweak the nose of anyone who might think himself superior. His brow furrowed as he tried to explain. "I'd like this to go well. I think he'll be a good ally and he's a Grey Warden. He fought the archdemon, Aeryn. He's not like any of the nobles you've met here."

There was a distinct air of amusement about her mouth as Sebastian fussed. She'd known he admired the Grey Wardens for their single-minded devotion to defending Thedas at all costs against the worst result of man's pride against the Maker. She hadn't quite realized how this translated into a wee bit of hero-worship for the warden-king of Ferelden.

Aeryn gave him big solemn eyes. "I promise I'll be on my very best behavior, Sebastian. Keep my fingers out of the sugar bowl, remember not to slur my speech. I won't even pick his pocket, though I imagine he carries awfully fascinating things." She blinked innocently and contemplated her fingers. "Maybe just one..."

"Don't you dare..." He was pinching the bridge of his nose. She's not taking this seriously. But he caught the sparkle in her eyes. Little tease, he thought as he blushed and ducked his head. "I'm being foolish."

"You're adorable." She smiled at him fondly and smoothed the line between his eyes with a caress. "Maybe a tiny bit over eager."

He flushed a deeper shade. "You're meant to tell me when I'm acting a child."

"Well, its just me, here. I'd have calmed you down before you got to the Keep." She tucked her arm through his, chuckling when he snorted at his actions. "Come on, then. Let's go meet the king, oh prince.

Meredith was berating King Alistair when they entered the main hall. Her strident tones filled the room, but the Ferelden seemed almost entertained. Aeryn would say he was baiting the Knight Commander if that didn't seem somewhat insane, even to her.

Varric, Isabela and Fenris had met them at the stairs, responding to the messengers Aeryn had sent. She wanted Varric's quick tongue and Fenris' eye for detail behind her. Isabela had tagged along, but she'd been to Ferelden during the Blight. The pirate had mentioned meeting the Wardens once. She'd been quite closed mouthed about the circumstances, which was unlike her.

Aveline skirted the edges of the room and joined them. "The Knight-Commander has been haranguing him since she arrived. She's just now started on the mage issue." It had sent a ripple of shock through Thedas when Alistair had announced he would be taking steps to make apostate mages welcome in Ferelden so long as they didn't cause trouble. Ferelden stood because of the efforts of two apostates, his proclamation had read. He'd not given names nor circumstances, just that there was room for debate in a long closed subject.

Aeryn observed the king. He was handsome in a clean cut way with his sandy, spiky hair. Looked tired, though, it occurred to her, seeing dark circles under intelligent hazel eyes. His voice, with which he occasionally tried to interrupt Meredith, was loud and, she noted wistfully, very Ferelden in it's accent. Alistair stood like a warrior, feet placed wide and restrained power in his movements and he dressed to match. His armor was clearly custom made and nicely polished, but it showed equally clear signs of being well used. And that was no ceremonial sword and shield on his back.

Sebastian noted the armor, too. Yes, the man dressed to be seen, but practical too. His eyes strayed to the shield. A griffon rampant on the battered surface, recently touched up. Yes, well, try not to gape, man, he admonished himself. He'd spent hours in the Starkhaven keep library, pouring over the tales of the Blights and the warriors who fought and died in the cause.

Archers were always welcome to the Wardens, distance and far-sight useful weapons against the darkspawn and he'd dreamed once upon a time of escaping the constraints of his childhood home and fighting the righteous cause. Wardens were freed of their families and their other obligations. No one could have touched him, then. The dreams had faded once he'd reached his teens and buried his hurts in passion and drink and excess, though. He'd have been a poor Warden once he was old enough to join, reluctant to sacrifice, abandoned to hedonism. Long ago and far away. He had other dreams, now.

Meredith stalked off and Aeryn walked over to draw attention to herself, letting her companions file in behind her. Alistair mumbled to his companion, "That could have gone better." The older man snorted.

"You think, Your Majesty?" And then looked up to see Aeryn, who gave him a courtly bow. "Ah, here's who you came to see. Your Majesty, may I introduce the Champion of Kirkwall, Lady Aeryn Hawke?"

"King Alistair." Aeryn dipped low in a curtsy that would have made Leandra faint with happiness, but rose immediately to meet his eyes. Not a Ferelden any longer. The man glanced over her appraisingly but not in a manner that she or Sebastian could object to. More sizing her up than ogling her assets.

"Well, I'm glad to say you don't resemble your statue." Aeryn smirked and shook his offered hand. That awful thing. If she ever found out who'd commissioned it...

"Forgive us our Meredith, that's her brand of Kirkwall hospitality."

"Kirkwall hostility must rip the skin off your face, then." He grinned at her and she returned it, somewhat ruefully.

"You aren't far from wrong, Your Majesty." She introduced her companions, Sebastian first, fondly smiling at Aveline's soldierly bow and noting the king's immediate indication that she should stand. He turned his sharp eyes on Sebastian.

"Prince Vael. Your Starkhaven was once an ally of Ferelden, during the occupation."

"That's true, Your Majesty." Sebastian frowned. Once?

"I was fostered there for a time, sire." Teagan reminded his nephew, quietly.

Aeryn queried. "I'm sorry. Once an ally?" She'd seen Sebastian's concern.

Alistair rubbed his chin before answering. "We've not had much contact with them since the Blight. The envoys we send come back with vague assurances of friendship and a crate of whiskey and not much else. It's good whiskey, at least."

"My cousin, Goran, has held the throne since my family was murdered. I'm afraid he is not the best choice of leader."

"And yet, you're here." Alistair's tone was dismissive and Sebastian buried the urge to wince.

"I was an avowed priest when Starkhaven fell. I have been...debating the best way to serve the Maker." Something lightened in the king's face and he nodded as Sebastian continued. "It has only been recently that I have renounced my vows and taken up the title. I hope to return soon, with the support of the noble families."

Alistair saw Aeryn's cool smile and curious, asked. "You support the Prince's claim, Champion?"

She nodded. "I do, Your Majesty. I hope to accompany him in his campaign." That seemed to surprise him.

"I had hoped you would be remaining in Kirkwall. I understand there's a power vacuum here."

"I am not suited to take up the Viscount's throne, Your Majesty."

Varric snorted. "You're a better choice than anyone else." Aveline frowned, though and Isabela and Fenris exchanged glances.

Aeryn shook her head. "That may be. But Kirkwall made me Champion by their choice, not mine. I will defend the city so long as I am here, but I will not be remaining."

"This seems an old argument." The king glanced between the companions.

Her voice was spare and cool as she explained. "My mother's family is an old name here in the Marches, sire and there are some, like Serah Tethras, who feel I'm a good choice. But I'm an apostate's daughter, a mercenary, a thief and an assassin by training and I was raised in Ferelden, which are heavy considerations for many others. Personally, I have little patience with petty politics and this city has brought me little but grief outside of my companions. If Prince Vael leaves, then I follow." Sebastian took her hand and the king's glance lingered on their twined fingers.

"I see. I'm sorry for Kirkwall, then. It seems to have worse luck than a nug in a dwarven camp."

"The city and I will stand a bit yet. If I can be honest..." Sebastian saw her face shift and Fenris and Varric stood straighter at the change in her voice.

"As you can be, please." He sounded intrigued.

"I don't think the situation will last much longer. Meredith is mad." Sebastian startled at her outright declaration and Aveline grunted in surprise. "My sister is in the Gallows and the mages have been quarantined for weeks, now. People who have never so much as cast a spark are being hunted as blood mages, while actual blood mages roam the streets like this was Tevinter. Tranquil are being created in numbers with complete disregard for whether they've passed their Harrowing or not." Her eyes were wide and serious, her features set. "We are...we are likely due a storm any time, now, Your Majesty. I suggest you not linger in the city once you conclude your business."

"What business? I came seeking allies against Orlais' fiddling and some improved trade and discovered that Kirkwall is neck deep in its own troubles. Your sister?" She nodded and Sebastian tightened his grip. The king looked grave. "I am sorry, Champion."

"Call me Hawke, most everyone else does." She pulled them away from the dark topic.

"Hawke, then. And, could you possibly just call me Alistair? There aren't many who will, these days." She gave him one of her wicked grins and Sebastian saw the king rise to it with a sudden smile that reached his eyes. Charmer.

"Permission to address a king informally? Absolutely, Alistair."

They chatted a minute more and he turned to go. He yet looked tired. And when he'd glanced between her and Sebastian, he looked a bit…sad? Was that what she'd seen? Aeryn felt a twist in her heart. Married man, king and all, but he lacked that…air of a man who was tended and beloved. She bit her lip and called out to him. "Alistair? When does your ship sail?"

"High tide. Why?" Aeryn tilted her head at Isabela who read her question in her eyes.

"Just after four bells, Hawke."

"You've a few hours. I know you're quartered here at the Keep, but would you care to share a meal at my estate? Informal, just my companions."

He regarded her and then nodded. "I would, actually. That sounds exactly like something I would care to do." His uncle sighed and shrugged.

"You too, of course, Bann Teagan." But the man shook his head.

"No. I'll stay here and keep the gossip down. I'll entrust the King of Ferelden to you, Champion."

The Bann's formal language caught Aeryn's attention and she gave him her best formal bow.

"I will take his care most seriously, my lord. Have no doubt."

Sebastian leaned down to her as they exited the Keep. "Orana is going to be plotting your demise if you bring a king to her table with no warning."

She winked up at him. "I plan to send word." Fortunately, they'd spent the last two of her recovery days restocking the larder. They'd probably spend the next week doing it again, if the king's Warden appetite was similar to Anders'. She waved down some of Pauli's friends and sent them scurrying to Orana and to invite Anders and Merrill. She never was sure when the mages would join them, but she couldn't leave them out. Anders had the Warden connection, as rarely as he spoke of it. And Merrill shared a clan with the Dalish Hero. And while that was now a sore subject, she might have good memories of the woman who had ended the Blight.

They took a quick tour of the less deadly parts of Kirkwall, including one up to the ramparts of the walls to show him the view of the Wounded Coast. Aeryn hadn't been up there in ages, but it would give Orana a little time.

While they walked, Isabela gave Alistair a nudge and he smiled fondly at her. "It's good to see you, Captain. Though I'm rather shocked to find you landlocked."

"Not for much longer. The wind is shifting." And winked back at Fenris who gave her a smirk. He'd heard about her wild night with the Hero and her second. Isabela eyed the king again. "You looked better rested traipsing across Ferelden, sleeping in the mud and fighting 'spawn and traitors every other hour, sweet thing. I'm sorry about Lyna." She was unusually subdued.

"Me, too." His eyes seemed locked on something distant and Isabela frowned.

"Didn't know her long, but I don't think she'd have wanted you to dwell."

"Haven't actually. Married. Doing the king bit. Just...remembering her suddenly." He ducked his head a little and Isabela glanced back at Hawke who was distracted from listening by something Sebastian was whispering in her ear. Lovebirds, she sighed.

"Yeah, I saw it, too."

-000-

Orana had outdone herself, taking the initiative to send out for a few things as well as spreading out the entire content of their kitchen on the broad trestle table. After a convivial dinner, they retired to the study for drinks. Anders hadn't come but Merrill had peeked in and Aeryn had made a point to give her a cuddle until she'd agreed to stay. Alistair had seemed startled at her appearance, but had welcomed a chance to talk of Lyna Mahariel with someone who had known her before her Joining.

Bodahn hadn't been exaggerating his association with the Hero's band and he and Alistair told a few amusing stories. "I'll say it again, it was Sten who kept putting dead rabbits in Morrigan's pack and blaming it on Fen'duril. I'm sure of it. The man had an unhealthy obsession with her undergarments."

"That might be so, sire. Though he wasn't the only one. Mistress Morrigan was quite distracting."

Aeryn slipped back to the kitchen and Aveline followed to help. Fenris, Donnic, Varric and Isabela broke out the cards and let Merrill deal. Alistair begged off the game, citing his complete and absolute lack of ability and Isabela had backed him, with a tale of watching him flail at Wicked Grace. He and Sebastian were sharing a quiet companionable glass next to the fire, instead, while watching the proceedings.

A few sips in, Alistair spoke. "She's formidable, your Hawke."

Sebastian couldn't help a fond smile. "She is."

Alistair regarded him solemnly. "Are you planning on...you know, marrying her?"

Yes. Tomorrow if he thought it feasible. He hesitated before he replied, though. "Eventually. Things are unsettled here and I'd hoped to give her more than I have to offer at the moment."

"Don't." Sebastian must have gaped because Alistair shook his head ruefully. "Bad choice of phrase. Don't wait, I mean. If you love her and she, you...don't wait."

"Alistair..."

"No. I know something of what I speak. You don't want to wake one day and find you've missed your chance to make her yours. You'll get to be prince and then there'll be meetings and people trying to fit you into their boxes and she'll...women like that don't take to boxes, Sebastian. They fight them."

"She's...we've discussed that. I think she's aware of what will come." He noticed now, that Alistair was twirling a small ironbark ring with leaves and vines inlaid in gold and a tiny rose artfully enameled in red glass around the second joint of his smallest finger on his shield hand. It was a beautiful trifle and it looked out of place on his scarred and weather-beaten digit, but Sebastian could see pale skin underneath. It rarely came off. He wore no other, married or no.

"Not to mention...lives like ours are dangerous and often short. Too blessed short."

"I don't guess I realized you and the Hero were..."

"Lyna. Almost everyone called her the Warden or Mahariel or 'that Maker forsaken pointy eared bi...troublemaker' and now they call her 'the Hero.'" He stared into the amber liquid in his glass. "She had a name."

Sebastian felt a sympathetic ache in his chest. Aeryn was rarely addressed by hers, either. Just him, his privilege.

"Your Hawke...she reminds me a little of Lyna. Coloring's different, true and of course, not an elf. But...fierce. Same sort of dangerous grace. Smiles like she's about to steal your heart and your purse. Something dark behind the eyes. Lyna favored daggers and leathers and shadows, too." He finished his drink and waved off the offer of a refill. "Nah, melancholy enough. Don't want to drown in it. I'm just...she's a Ferelden. Just feel I should look after her a little."

"I understand." Sebastian replied gently. "And, it's good advice. Thank you. I'll keep it to mind." He would. There was a hard earned honesty in Alistair's words.

"Does she like roses?" Actually, Sebastian thought, he didn't know what flowers Aeryn favored. There hadn't been many opportunities for flowers. "Just, Sandal knows a neat trick with preserving flowers. Get him to show you sometime." The king rose to his feet as Aeryn and Aveline reentered. "Hawke, you've been a fine hostess and I've eaten you out of house and home and cheese, but I should get back. Teagan's probably having kittens."

They made it back to the Keep without a skirmish. Alistair seemed disappointed. "Not even Kirkwall villains are that foolish." Aeryn indicated their group, armed to the teeth and fell, beneath their camaraderie. "Next time we'll go a hunting bandits, hmm?"

"I'll hold you to it. You've a fine crew, Hawke. Cherish it. Even when it seems like it'll last forever..." He trailed off, shaking his head with a self-mocking grin. "Maker, Vael, that Starkhaven whiskey is potent. I'll have to send a case to the Vigil." He bowed elegantly and clasped Aeryn's hand. "My lady."

"Hey!" Isabela launched herself at him and kissed him soundly while Fenris rolled his eyes. "Next time I want a rematch."

Alistair grinned and kissed her again before setting her back, giving her cleavage a salute. "We'll see." The guardsman held the door for the king and his Captain. "Let me know when you make your bid for the throne. I can't give you troops, but I can make a proclamation. That's always very useful." His tone was wry. "Or maybe I'll run away from home, help you fight your war." And they were laughing as the king turned away.

-000-

Author's Note

Not stalling, just couldn't resist a chance to visit with Alistair. Endgame starts next chapter.