I'm sorry, I intended to post this sooner but, well, all kinds of things happened and so forth.

Nevertheless, enjoy!

It started with a Kiss part 23

Still going strong ... even after the emergency break...

Merrill pleasantly hummed to herself and to the world in general, while she busied herself with selecting herbs for the tea she was brewing. 'Sage and yarrow for strength,' she murmured in a singsong tone. 'And melilot for energy.' She smiled gleefully. 'Because we will need that.' Her small, nimble fingers plucked a few dried, still vaguely blue, star shaped flowers out off another jar. 'And borage for happiness.' She giggled naughtily. 'Although we hardly need that.'

She cocked her head and let out a little sigh. Who would have thought a person had so many body parts that could tingle and flutter and glow. And explode in a fountain of ecstasy, for that matter. She wished now she had spent more time frolicking instead of working at her non-cooperative mirror that only let her explode with frustration. She suspected, though, it was not just about the frolicking, but, more importantly, who you did it with. Pahdell had been nice enough. Actually, he had been nothing less than a revelation. Well, the book had been a revelation, of course. She never had imagined you could turn sex into such an astonishing and pleasurable activity. Following all the thrilling examples and suggestions with Pahdell had been exciting enough, but then Sebastian had come along... It seemed he not only had read the book as well, so many times apparently he knew it by heart, but had practiced the instructions often enough to become some kind of connoisseur.

That was just one part of the story, however. He had added something special, something she hadn't experienced with her turncoat of a neighbour. She found it hard to describe; it made her think of the moment when the spring made a reappearance after a long and dreary winter. When the smell in the air subtly changed and the light became just that little bit brighter, and a tickling feeling of anticipation filled her mind with the prospect of colourful flowers and fresh leafs. And with overall unbridled happiness. In this case, the strange sensation got amplified tenfold when Sebastian had looked at her with those summer-blue eyes. Or better, in the way he had looked at her. As if she was the most beautiful and precious person in the world, instead of a dangerous blood mage with a recalcitrant, somewhat sinister mirror. And not only his eyes gave witness of his adoration; she had felt it in his kisses and caresses and certainly in the flame of his passion. It had stirred up all kinds of unfamiliar feelings. Unfamiliar, confusing even, but far from unpleasant. On the contrary. That's what made her hum and do little waltzes across the kitchen floor.

She knew it couldn't last. She might be naive and have a tendency to ramble a lot, she wasn't half as clueless as most people thought she was. Sooner rather than later Sebastian too would realise that he couldn't just drop everything out off his hands and turn his life upside-down for this – whatever this was exactly. No matter how right and wonderful it felt. So, she was determined to make the most of every short moment they were granted. She could at least make a lovely and warm memory from the billiant shining fragments.

Merrill lifted the kettle from the stove and filled the pot with steaming water. After that she left her hovel, letting the tea steep for a while, to buy another bottle of wine and some scented candles. Lavender. Definitely lavender. She wanted to create a magic atmosphere, without using actual magic. Sebastian had gone out to run an errant, but he would return shortly, he had assured her after the warmest and most tender of embraces.

When she came back home again, she pensively sipped her tea, while she arranged the candles on the shelves and sprinkled some dried flowers, (and, yes, lavender was one of those) she had found at the Lowtown bazaar, in small bowls. She sat down to take in and smell the outcome of her actions, and only then she saw she had forgotten to take her ball of twine with her. And yet she hadn't lost her way. Varric would have called it symbolic. Probably.

Anders awoke with the mother of all headaches. He got the impression that a spiky ball, made out of lead, with sadistic delight was bouncing around the inside his skull. 'I hope you're satisfied,' rumbled Justice, generously adding to the splitting pain.

'Only if you're suffering as much as I do,' Anders viciously snarled, rubbing his brow in a vain attempt to lessen the throbbing.

'I only suffer because you are neglecting the True Cause,' Justice piously declared.

Anders rolled his eyes, which didn't help. He stumbled out of bed and hobbled into the clinic, squinting against the second-hand light that reluctantly wandered in through the small window. Carefully he lowered himself on the wobbling chair at his rickety desk and opened one of his grimoires, desperate to find the recipe for a cure against the attack of a persistent sledgehammer. From experience he knew a healing potion didn't work in this sort of cases. Sadly. He prayed he had the right herbs in store.

'Why don't you just heal yourself?'

Sometimes Anders wished he could simply reach into his head and strangle that damn spirit. 'Don't you think that if I had found a remedy for a hangover, I would be as rich as the Queen of Antiva by now?!' he snapped irritably. He shoved the book aside and opened another one.

After a short silence Justice replied, 'No, I didn't.'

'Didn't know what,' growled Anders who, at this moment, wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer but sooner a dull, rusty spoon.

'That you could be as rich as – '

'Yes, yes. I do hope you understand I meant that figuratively. Hangovers are harder to cure than broken bones. Just like heartaches,' Anders added sourly. 'But usually they don't last as long.'

'Then why – '

'Oh, shut up!' Anders spat. He was absolutely not in the mood for a bickering with Justice. Listlessly he turned a few pages and then got up. 'There's always one remedy left,' he said. 'Just go and have another drink.'

'I don't think that would be wise,' Justice began to protest.

'I've never been lauded for my wisdom,' Anders grumbled and set course for the Hanged Man.

He had hardly passed the threshold of the tavern, when his look fell upon Isabela who stood at the bar. Normally she was already very hard to ignore as it was, but now she had turned into a real eye catcher. She wore a short, strapless scarlet dress that intimately hugged all her voluptuous curves, and she had done something artistic with her hair that involved lots of curls, ribbons and flowers.

'What are you all dressed up for?' he informed after his initial shock and, to his dread, sudden arousal.

'My, you have a short memory!' Isabela grinned. 'Or is this a typical case of too much whisky, or perhaps fervently trying to forget something you don't want to remember? Which, under the current circumstances, probably is the same, I imagine.'

Anders just stared at her, or rather at her cleavage that looked invitingly back. He had to curl his hands into fists to prevent they'd do something totally inappropriate, like hungrily pawing that lustrous bosom.

'Do I truly have to remind you that today is the day of that stupid wedding?' Isabela went on, pretending she didn't notice his instinctive reaction. 'And that I, involuntarily, have to play the role of the witness?'

Her words had the same effect as a bucket with ice water and Anders felt the disturbance in his nether regions calm down. Resolutely he turned to Corff and ordered a pint of ale.

The pirate queen merrily babbled on. 'This,' she said, pointing at her outfit, 'was not my idea, you know. I'd have happily attended the whole boring ceremony in my every day pantsless togs, but Varric insisted. He said the least I could do, was wearing some festive clothing. So I decided on something frivolous and slutty. What do you think? Too much?'

'It's certainly – striking,' Anders managed, while he wiped the foam off his upper lip. 'It might cause a seizure or two, mind you. Or perhaps a full-scaled riot.'

'Well, then we'll have something to laugh about, won't we. Personally, I hope it will get me a good roll in the sack.'

'Dressed like that? You'll have to beat off the interested candidates with a spiky club. A very long and very heavy one.'

'Will you be present? In the Keep, I mean?'

Anders choked on a sip of ale and started to cough ostentatiously. 'Are you crazy?' he cried out when he could speak again. 'And watch how Hawke throws her life away?!'

Isabela shrugged nonchalantly, which let her bosom do several things Anders vehemently tried to ignore. 'I don't like it either, though I never would put it so dramatically. You can join the party afterwards, I suppose. I figure there will be plenty of alcohol to drown your misery in.' She waved at the bartender to fill up her glass. 'And the good part is, it will be for free, unlike in here.' She took a large quaff. 'No way in the world I'll be able to stomach that wedding while being sober.' She cast a sidelong glance at the mage, but decided she would rather die than share her fear that something awful was about to happen. Not with the perfect example of how wretchedness looked after the banging effect of a bottle of Hanged Man whisky. Not with anyone, to be honest. Several times over she had hit herself to get rid of the eerie feeling Varric had stirred up. To no avail. So, now she tried the therapy of a gallon of rum.

'I'll think about it,' Anders said sulkily. But in his heart he knew there wasn't enough alcohol in the world, free or not, to wash away his unhappiness.

Fenris had pushed Sebastian into the library, and with force had planted him down on the sofa. He wanted him out of the hallway and, above all, he wanted him to stop pacing, before he'd go completely bonkers. He needed a drink but suppressed the urge; arriving half drunk in the office of the Viscount didn't seem like a good idea. Instead he folded his arms over his chest and glared sternly at the former prince.

'Explain what happened,' he said harshly.

'I had the most wonderful night of my life,' Sebastian said, with a heavenly expression blooming on his face.

That, Fenris didn't want to hear. He wished to hear well meant excuses, he wished to see tears of deep regret. He wished for utter and complete distress. What he absolutely not wanted was this shameless display of pure bliss. 'Venhedis!' he snapped. 'What has got into you?! What drove you to this, this idiocy?!'

Sebastian smiled faintly. 'I love her,' he declared for a second time that morning.

Fenris screwed his eyes shut and tried with all his might to stay calm. 'When you showed up, I thought you were in panic,' he said gruffly. 'Or was about to break down.' Because of a bunch of orphans, he thought but didn't say out loud, afraid he would start shouting. For some reason he thought shouting wouldn't get through to Sebastian at this moment. He was certain that even if Andraste would make an appearance, she wouldn't get through to him. The besotted idiot would undoubtedly wave all her arguments aside. If he would recognise her at all in the state he was in.

Sebastian looked up. 'I was. I am. In panic. Or not in panic as such. More like overwhelmed. Something like this has never happened to me before. And frankly, it frightens me. I've been with many women in the past, but never with someone like her. She is passionate and yet gentle. I've never met a gentler person like her; she even cares for the smallest of flower. And she is cheerful, and beautiful and did I mention passionate? '

'And a blood mage.' Fenris interrupted him. He thought he couldn't stress that part too much, but he could have saved himself the trouble, for, as expected, Sebastian didn't listen.

'She brought up a feeling in me I never thought existed, she opened up my heart. She enchanted me,' he murmured, his eyes unfocused and dreamily as if he had consumed a cartload of the herbs they had used for the payback on Anders.

'More like bewitched you,' Fenris grunted, desperately trying to curb his anger, an exertion that became harder by the minute. Clearly Sebastian was a man in love, or was under the impression he was a man in love, and it was his duty to talk this madness out off his head. 'And what about your vows to the Chantry?' he said, hoping this would bring back some common sense.

'I'll have to disavow them, obviously.'

Fenris threw his arms in the air. 'And then what?' he shouted, leaving his better judgement behind. 'March onto Starkhaven, let her magick the usurper out off the palace and plant her on the throne as your legally wedded spouse?'

Sebastian looked up and flashed him a brilliant smile. 'That's actually not a bad idea,' he said.

The elf was about to flew at the, in his eyes now definitely ex-Brother, when there sounded a rumour at the entrance of the library. To his immense relief he heard Marian´s voice.

What´s going on here?'

He swirled to her, while he pointed at Sebastian with an accusing finger. 'I told you before that the gift we bought for the – for Merrill had backfired,' he growled. 'As it turns out, it has done more than that. It has caused utmost and total disaster.'

Hawke cast just one glance on Sebastian, because one glance was enough and told her everything. 'Oh dear.'

'Is that all you can say? Oh dear?' Fenris yelled, all worked up. 'He slept with her, for the Maker's sake!'

'I made love to her,' Sebastian murmured, a little defiance showing on his face. 'Beautiful, wonderful love.'

'Oh dear,' Hawke repeated. She tried to hold back her merriment because her lover looked like he was on the brink of exploding, but she had a hard time doing so. 'I knew the pen was mightier than the sword, but it seems, in this particular situation, they are a perfect match for each other.'

Fenris glared at her when she started giggling. 'It is not funny!'

Hawke bit her lip to prevent she'd burst out with laughter but failed gloriously. She sank down on the sofa next to Sebastian, still laughing, and patted his hand. 'My sweet boy,' she said to the man who easily stood a head higher than her and was about ten years older, 'tell me, what made you run to my, er, husband to pour your heart out? I can't imagine you'd thought he would take it lightly.' She waved her hand at Fenris in the hope he wouldn't interfere. With a huff the elf leant back against the mantelpiece of the hearth.

Sebastian looked up and Marian couldn't help feeling touched by the pleading and yet happy expression in his eyes. 'I thought, since he loves you and that love has come so sudden and unexpected, he would understand.'

ouch

Fenris opened his mouth and closed it immediately after. All kinds of thoughts and emotions raged through his mind. Yes, but I don't love a blood mage! was the first to come up. Yes, I was overwhelmed, just like you, and I can imagine that's a bewildering sensation, was a good follow-up. And then came a blur of an incoherent stream consisting of things like: and what if Marian were a mage, or worse, a blood mage. I wouldn't even have looked at her twice. Wouldn't you? She is a remarkable woman, to say the least of it. She would have conquered your heart nevertheless, you know that. No I don't. Yes you do. With that filleting voice she would have. And you know she was right. Right with all her nasty words. So what, she's not Merrill. No, but to Sebastian she is. What Marian is to you, is Merrill to him. Shut up! You fell in love, he fell in love. What's the difference. The difference is, she's a blood mage, and an elf to boot, and he is, was, a Brother of the Faith. So what? And, seriously, bigotry? From you? What, so what? They are as far apart as Anders and common sense! Will you please stop whinging and just accept that the man who calls you a friend has fallen in love with a woman you happen not to approve of? Stop being so small-minded! You're letting your friend down.

Is this how Anders feels all the time? No! This goes too far!

Fenris took a deep, deep breath. It was no small feat, having such a heavy discussion with yourself. And then he got aware of two faces, looking expectantly at him. He managed a wan smile. 'Perhaps I overreacted a little,' he said, grudgingly. He realised all his emotions must have shown on his face like some kind of moving picture show. 'I don't agree...'

'I don't think that matters, Fenris,' Hawke said.

'But I think I understand,' Fenris let follow, with a rather ugly look at his lover.

Hawke gave him a lopsided smile. 'Sorry, I should have known.' The smile became a beam. 'I should have known you would understand in the end.' She turned to Sebastian, patting his had some more. 'Sweetheart, I suggest you go back to Merrill. I suppose she's waiting for you? Tell her you feel confused, be honest. I'm convinced she feels the same. Enjoy the momentum. There will be time enough for worries and doubt. Not now. Wallow in the love you share.' Gently she helped him up and saw him to the door. Fenris trailed after them, feeling at a loss. 'Buy her a bunch of flowers,' she suggested when she waved Sebastian goodbye.

He smiled broadly at her. 'That was my idea all along.'

Hawke close the door and with a sigh turned to look at Fenris. 'Was this really so hard?'

'I panicked.´

'So did I. But at least I managed to keep my wits together.´

He chose to ignore that though he recognized the jab. He should have done better. ´And now?'

'Honestly? I have no idea. Let them have their moment. Maybe the bubble will burst. Maybe it will last. Who knows? But I don't think we are the ones to judge them.'

Fenris took a step forward and closed her in her arms. 'No, we are not. I know that now.' He thought about the discussion in his head. 'I wish him all the love in the world.'

Hawke kissed him. 'And now, my darling, we have to prepare for the theater that awaits us in the Keep.'

Fenris groaned wholeheartedly. He really, really wasn't looking forward to that. Especially not with the reaction of some certain people in mind. But it was her idea and, he had to admit, it was the final revenge. So he had agreed.

Anders got more pent up by the minute. He had stopped imbibing ale and again had started to drink whisky, although not only Justice but also his sound mind had strongly advised him not to do so. It was getting harder to keep both voices apart. But, whatever the case, he wasn't in the mood to heed either of them. So, at the end of the afternoon, he mustered what was left of his wits and set out to the Keep to prevent Hawke from making, in his eyes, the biggest mistake of her life.

Corff saw him staggering off with wild determination and mumbled to himself, 'That's one bombshell in the make, and no mistake.'

I'm not certain if Sebastian indeed is ten years older than Hawke. I tried to do the math but got stuck. In the end it's not that important, I think.

Thanks for reading!