"Fenris, for the last time, it's not like that here. You wouldn't-"

Her angry protestations are cut short as an old cushion hits her full across the face, leaving her spluttering furiously through a mouthful of dust.

She stares at him, wide eyed. "You just threw a cushion at me!"

"I see stating the obvious is among your many skills, Hawke," he says, lip curling in a wry grin.

Her astonishment quickly subsides as she picks up the nearest pillow. The argument is forgotten in a rain of soft furnishings, both eventually collapsing in a pile of feathers, laughing and kissing.