Fenris looked up at the night sky, and in that single moment, time split like a fraying rope into a before and after. He was still in the dark, still flummoxed by fate, but he was no longer lost. Kirkwall was his home, Hawke was his world, and after everything, he was his own protagonist.

And, once again, she was right. She put it so simply, he wanted to laugh.

What if he could see all the pieces now, in the dark, spinning slowly with the world? To the east, under the towering moon, the Solium constellation lured his attention—he'd often thought of it as the "thing" to aspire to, a kind of enlightenment that would make him happy, though for him it was an unattainable ideal. He'd lost faith. Nowadays he regarded it more as a kind of thing that used to mean something to him, and by that very notion it brought him comfort merely to look at the stars.

But maybe it could be more than just an unattainable ideal. Maybe he could connect the pieces inside him and live on as a harmonious constellation. After all, it was different tonight. Every part of him moved and spoke, and he was strangely able to hold it all together.

Imagination flowed in his eyes. That the Solium stars rearranged themselves into his image, and he was leaning back on a tree stump with a risen knee, looking up with a smile, though his eyes were closed, as if basking in the sun, enjoying the present moment.

He wanted to be that guy.

He knew he had it in him. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been staring at the night sky with a golden warmth in his chest reserved for, well… everything.

He looked down at the beautiful, wise human on his lap, and smiled as he ran his hand through her hair. The golden warmth travelled to his extremities.

For the whole damn World.

"What?" Hawke said, chuckling.

"I like this side of you," Fenris said, smiling.

"My front? I do think it's my best side," she said smugly, brushing down her jaws.

"Not that. Well…" he said in a deep voice. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow in quick consideration.

"Ugh, pig," she said, gently slapping him away.

He laughed. "You brought it up! I was talking of your personality."

"My personality?" she said, her face wreathed in a smile. "Do go on."

"I like this side of you; the one that said that thing about the pieces lighting up in the dark."

"Oh…" she said with a shit-eating smile. "I don't remember saying that, but that sounds like me."

He rolled his eyes, struggling to find the words. "It's this… weird, warm, intuitive, creative side of you," he stammered, brooding. "That—"

"Isn't that four—"

"Oh my Maker, can you let me pay you a fucking compliment?" Fenris double-interrupted dramatically.

Hawke laughed at him.

"Anus," Fenris muttered.

She laughed even more, held onto him, so he took the time to organise his thoughts.

"It's… that side of you that finds meaning in things at difficult times," Fenris said, brooding as he played with her hair, "and has a kind of happiness that doesn't depend on anything," he finished softly.

A warm smile built up on Hawke's face. "Thank you." She inhaled deeply. "I try to come at things from that place… as much as I can," she finished with doubt in her voice.

"You seem like a natural."

"Well… there's always been unanimous agreement in my family that I have a bit of a special brain…" she said, chewing on a thumbnail.

"Quite," he said, chuckling.

"But I don't think that's it. Life suuucks," Hawke said, looking up at the stars. "I'm a survivor of the Blight. I saw people and myself succumb to incredible desperation and nihilism, and if you were to ask me most days, I will tell you I've lost more than I've ever gained. I am still working on that. But for me, every day I get out of bed is a celebration. Then I get on with the day as if I will learn something from it."

"And if you can't get out of bed?"

"Then… I can't get out of bed," Hawke said, shrugging. "I need to winter."

"You need to winter?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"My mum calls it that," she said, her eyelashes going down. "Sometimes things become too much, and it takes up all your energy, and you just need to rest. Surrendering to the inevitable and going through the winter is a lesson in itself."

He was lost.

"Alright, how do I explain this to a northerner?" she said, gesturing explicatively. "You've seen in the Fade that winters in Ferelden are no joke. We can't avoid them; we can only prepare for them, and warm each other up with hot drinks and winter holidays. Most animals hibernate through the winter." Her voice softened, and her eyes were far away. "So do the plants; the whole earth sleeps. Things move slowly, and the light is scarce, and you sleep more too." She paused, a brooding sadness on her face mixed with something like compassion. She looked at him. "You just need to take care of yourself until spring comes again."

That makes sense, actually, the boring band-aid bath guy said.

To those who can afford it, the black wolf said.

Nature knows no shame, the boring band-aid bath guy said.

Nor sloth, the black wolf said.

"If you can afford it," Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.

"If you can afford it," Hawke said, nodding with pursed lips. "I had my family. They carried me through the winter. When I got better, I carried them."

The warmth in his chest beamed, but also burned in places. He smiled bitterly. "I see."

He's not going to winter. He's a man. A man of the rainforest, the gruff one said defensively.

He needs to suffer and carry the women to eternal summer, the black wolf said flatly.

And then be congratulated for his toughness and self-sacrifice! the gruff one said triumphantly.

With a big fat promotion, his intuition said cheekily.

And everyone will applaud, the black wolf agreed.

An eerie feeling came over him.

Okay, what? the boring band-aid bath guy said.

Isn't it obvious? They're jerking each other off, the hard-up grinning lunatic said.

And you… disapprove? the boring band-aid bath guy said.

I'm an egalitarian mutual masturbator, the hard-up grinning lunatic said, very nonchalant.

'Kay, that was helpful, the boring band-aid bath guy said sarcastically.

Fenris shook it off. A cold gust of wind went through his hair.

"You're very brooding tonight," Hawke said matter-of-factly.

"I'm internalising," Fenris said calmly.

"Have you tried externalising?" Hawke offered.

"When I finish internalising," Fenris said flatly.

She chuckled. "Fair," she said. Now she was the one deep in thought. "I remember the first time Templars came to Lothering. We'd barely settled. It was around this time of year; I remember it was cold as shit, but the first snow hadn't come yet. They were so bloody tall and shouty. They were looking for Caroline's son, Laurie, who'd escaped from the Circle. Mum and dad told Carver to keep us in the basement, but I wasn't going to listen to my little brother. We opened the exterior basement door ajar and watched. They tossed the house and several others and were very rude. Levi stepped in to defend Caroline's honour and they called him a 'knife-ear' and threatened to 're-home' him in Denerim's Alienage because he was 'outside his bounds'. Eventually they found Laurie in an abandoned house. Caroline wasn't handling it well. First her son, then her husband dying, now her son again…" Her expression saddened. "Then her younger daughter, Lizzie, shouted at a Templar and made fire in her hand. Nobody knew she was a mage. Not even her," she said, her eyes becoming glassy.

A black pit opened up in his chest. "What happened to Caroline?"

"She… wintered," Hawke said, swallowing. The moonlit marbles under her eyelids trembled. "Hard."

"How? She was all alone," Fenris said, frowning.

"She was bereft of family, not people. Those who could, helped. That first winter, she ate nothing but what others brought her."

"Ah, so the community carried her through the winter."

"As it should," Hawke said, in that characteristic non-negotiable tone that meant this was not a debate he could win. "A person is a constellation of organs. A family is a constellation of people. A village is just a larger family. A city is just a larger village. Together, we are life. And we are only as strong as our connections."

"How very Qunari of you," Fenris said with a smirk.

"Hey, even a broken clock is right twice a day," she said, chuckling.

The gruff one, the boring band-aid bath guy, the hard-up grinning lunatic, the poet, the half-blind man, the black wolf, and whatever his intuition was—well, that was seven pieces of him right there. Lost, disconnected, hard to trust, and at times, hard to understand—the sum of which made a broken individual, caught between reality and metaphor. Well, at least he was interesting.

There is an eighth, his intuition said ominously. In that moment, he decided this intuitive voice was called the hanged man. His ideas came from downtown. Upside Down Town. What eighth? There was no eighth. He was at capacity! Who was this eighth?

The Antaam, the hanged man said.

He wasn't Qunari. That didn't mean anything to him. So, what was this bittersweet feeling that said it did?

You know what it means, even as you've forgotten, the hanged man said.

He knew what it meant. It meant "body", the word Qunari used to refer to the army.

Words, words, words, the hanged man said tiredly. Words are fleeting and forgettable. Feelings remain. That's what gives words their power. Words are containers of feeling and meaning. Like a body contains a soul.

He had no soul for the word Antaam.

That's what happens when you're only half a soul, the hanged man said.

Only half a soul, he thought bitterly, while the dizziness grew stronger. It felt like an accusation, and an accurate one. Was the eighth the soul he left behind?

Hawke waved in front of him.

Enough, the boring band-aid bath guy said. You are upsetting him. Go hang somewhere else.

"Sorry," Fenris said, shifting in his seat.

"Wow, no opinion," Hawke said, raising an eyebrow. "You must be internalising hard."

"A labour for another day," he said with a smile. "You were saying?"

"Last time I saw Caroline, she was moving to Ravensburg with a friend to start a soap business. I remember Esme saying she made her soap dirt cheap and won a contract with the Circle. Every Thursday she made deliveries and got to see her kids for a little while." She inhaled deeply. "But Maker was that terrifying to watch. Bethany was friends with Lizzie, and she made fire in her own hand." She rubbed her forehead. "For the first time."

"While there were Templars around?" he said, raising his voice a little.

"We closed the door pretty much immediately," she said, tongue pushing through her cheek. "She burnt my overalls. I froze her arm. I tried to melt the ice, but I burned her instead. She still has—" she said, chuckling. But her smile died, and she corrected herself dejectedly, rubbing her chest, "had a little scar on her forearm," she said quietly.

Fenris covered her hand with his.

"We locked ourselves in the basement. Bethany kept crying. I held up a fireball next to her arm while Carver was standing with a bucket of water at the ready," Hawke reminisced bittersweetly. "I remember him saying, 'When I make fire in my hand, freeze my bloody mouth too!'."

But he never did… the hanged man said bitterly.

"But he never did," Fenris said.

Hawke shook her head softly. "Lucky sod."

So lucky, the hanged man said sarcastically.

"It was a terrible night. Dad got very upset and started yelling, then I started yelling, then Carver started yelling, then Bethany started crying, then mum struck fear in our hearts with her demonic growl—"

"I don't think I've ever heard Leandra yell before."

"Yeah…" Hawke mused, her eyes going up on him. "That's why it's scary."

Fenris inhaled, and he found his lungs refused to release. He brought her hand to his lips without much thought. He held her hand against his chest, covering it with his chin, as if to keep it warm. Finally, he sighed. He hadn't realised how fast his heart was beating.

Her eyes said she felt it too, but she merely watched him. He thought he should say something, but he didn't know what.

She smiled at him. "Anyway, even though it was shitty, in the end, it was actually kind of nice. We all slept in the same bed that night," she said, her face lighting up. "It was Bethany in the middle squished between my parents while Carver spooned dad and I spooned mum. We couldn't fall asleep, so we each told a story, and Carver farted in the middle of mine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, he did."

"Of course, he did," she said, shaking her head. "But it was then I realised everyone fought because we were all afraid. We couldn't fall asleep because we were all trembling with the same fear—that we'd be apart," she went on.

Familia, the hanged man said. Na sa fahza.

Na sa oblita, the poet said.

Fenris blinked. What fresh Void had he just thought? It was a world salad of Tevene, Elvhenan and Qunlat, that—probably wanted to have—said, "Family. No one left behind. No one forgotten."

He felt it. Something was moving inside him. Why did it make him feel so sad?

To be analysed later, the boring band-aid bath guy commanded.

"And there was…" Hawke said, her eyes a mix of emotions as she looked up at the sky, "… so much good there, in that awful thing we were sharing. It was one of those moments where we were all a family, and we were on the same team. That felt good."

He nodded to himself. It was bittersweet.

"And that was that. That night, the Hawke family motto was born," she said triumphantly. "Doubt and dismay, but do it anyway!"

Fenris rubbed his neck, thinking. "I suppose there is some strength in vulnerability."

"Of course, there is," Hawke said, her soft hand opening against his chest. "Look how strong you are now with your heart out."

In more ways than one. If only he had the strength to remember that when the world went dark.

"So, my point is—I could remember that night as the horrible night I fucked up and everyone was upset," she said, her shoulders curling up, "or I could remember that night as the trying night that brought us all closer together," she said softly.

"Is this one of those nights, then?" Fenris said with a little smile.

"So far, so good," Hawke said with a smirk. "Now show me what you got me!"

"Of course," Fenris said, nodding gentlemanly. "But may I ask you a question first?"

"I do not accept flowers. Unless they're in a pot," she said, then narrowed one eye. "Preferably with instructions…"

"No," he said, chuckling. He sighed. "How do you keep that mentality alive? It just... puzzles me."

Hawke pursed her lips compassionately, her nails falling down on his jumper. "The answer will annoy you."

Fenris brooded. "Yeah, probably."

"Follow your heart," she said.

"There it is," he said flatly.

"There it is," she said, chuckling.

"I can't help it," he whined.

"Yeah, that's sad," she said, a smirk building up her face. "And a little funny."

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Fenris said monotonously.

"It's true, though," Hawke said, shrugging. "My life feels eternally broken, and sometimes I hate the world so much I want to run into a wall. I know how I am when I'm angry and resentful. I forget everything good. I need to have things in place to pull me up to the surface and keep me there. I honour my conscience and my passions and I work towards a dream, even if it may not come true. I follow the trails that make me spark. That's all there really is to it."

He chuckled to himself. "You make coping sound like an art."

"It is art," she insisted, hugging herself. Her eyes were far away for a moment. "Varric taught me that. It's the most important art you'll ever make. The story you tell yourself about your life—therein lies your greatest power."

He had never thought of it that way. What was the story he was telling himself, day after day?

"It seems I have more homework to do," Fenris said with a little smile.

"You're not going to do that now, are you?" Hawke said, watching him write some notes for himself.

Harder in Hightown? the hard-up grinning lunatic complained. More like Haunted in Hightown. You're turning this spank bank into an angsty thought bank, and I do NOT approve.

"Fuck no," he said tiredly, putting the notebook back in his coat. He came down from the windowsill onto the bench. She followed suit and he reached inside the bag, putting the first gift on her lap.

Hawke guffawed. "What are you like?" she said, shaking her head as she picked up the joke wand.

"Supportive?" Fenris said flatly.

"Bippity boppity…" Hawke said, waving the wand in front of his face, "… supportive boopfriend!" she said, poking his nose with it.

Fenris held back his chuckle. "Poke me again. See what happens."

So, she did. And so, he grabbed it out of her hand, took her face and kissed her. She blinked.

"I'm magic," Fenris said, laughing. "I made Hawke shut up."

"Not gonna lie, I thought you were going to hit me with it," she said, chuckling.

He grinned, hitting the wand on his open palm. "That kind of dangerous magic should only be practised behind closed doors."

"Woof," she said, biting her lip.

He put the second gift on her lap.

Her face lit up. "Aww! Animal tarot!" she said, opening the deck. "Aww, look at the widdle otter holding a cup of tea," she said in sweet voice, showing a Page of Cups to him. It was indeed, a cute otter with a little purple flower on its head, holding a cup of tea on a soft yellow background. It looked very chill, and a little confused. "It's like you in the morning, except your hair is all over the place."

Fenris laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Thanks, Fen Fen," Hawke said, kissing his cheek. He smiled despite himself. "Wait, where did the otter go?" she said, putting the cards back in the deck.

As he looked around himself, her hand brushed his hair, and out the card came. Her tongue was out between her teeth. "There it is."

"Anus magic?" he said grumpily. "Yes, there it is."

She looked at the bag. Her curiosity was so great she didn't even crack a joke. "Is there… more?"

"No, the rest is for me," Fenris shitted her, putting the bag down. "Because I was feeling kind of down, you know?"

"Oh, really?" she said, leaning over him. "You got yourself a colourful sweater?"

"Yes," he lied, taking it out for her to see. It was a soft jumper with pink, blue and purple stripes. "Won't I look dashing in it?"

"I don't know. Let's see," she said nonchalantly.

He pursed his lips, looking down at himself. "Nah, I'm cold."

Hawke snatched the new jumper out of his hands and took off her coat.

"What is happening?" he said.

"You snooze, you lose," she said, taking off her sweater. The flowers and the vines on her arm came alive in the moonlight and her breasts bounced in a plum bralette. "Hoooly shit, that's cold! I'm no Fereldan anymore," she whined, putting the new colourful jumper on.

"Hm?" he said, blinking.

"I'm no Fereldan anymore!" she whined again, hugging herself in the cold. She looked down at her jumper. "But I am fabulous."

Thank the Maker it fit her. He stood there awkwardly holding his hands together in a cup in front of the vendor because he had no idea what size she was.

"It looks great," he said, holding back a victory dance. Donnic wanted him to get her a bloody poetry book! As if Fenris would ever use someone else's words in lieu of his. Fucking amateur. Nothing said, 'I give a shit' like paying attention to the things she liked.

"Thanks again, Fen Fen," she said, kissing his other cheek.

"You're welcome," he said with a nod. "Now put your coat back on. I can see your nipples through that sweater." He blinked. "Wait…"

She chuckled, donning the coat. She crossed her legs and winked at him. "I'll keep it slightly open."

"Oof. Slightly open sweater view," he said sultrily, putting an arm around her.

"How will you control yourself?" she teased him, her face coming near.

"I won't. Show me your ankles," he demanded, then burst into laughter as soon as she did.

He showed her the fourth and final gift. It was a black choker with a little amethyst heart and a thin silver chain on either side. The gem moved and shone turquoise in places. This she really liked. She hugged him as soon as he helped her put it on.

"Thank you for indulging in my chromatic obsessions," she said.

"I like a good obsession," he said with a smile. "Though to be fair, mine's because it reminds me of a cool bird I've never seen." He chuckled softly. "If that makes any sense."

"Aww. I don't have a cute story like that," she said, shrugging. "I just think those colours work well together."

"You know what works great together?" he said, reaching inside the bag. "Black… and me," he said, showing a fluffy black hoodie with cat ears.

"You didn't!" Hawke said happily. "Wait… why does it have eyes?"

"They're cats," he said, tracing the three little ones on the chest area.

"They're black cats," she said, blinking. "On a black hoodie."

"Neat, right?" he said, holding back a smug chuckle.

"You can't even see them," she said, laughing.

"They're being mysterious," he said softly.

"Alright," she said, chuckling. "That's about what I'd expect from you."

He smiled, proud of himself. "Oh. I also got you this. For my place," he said, showing her the wooden World box. "You know. For all your shit."

"The basket of armour, now the box of knick-knacks?" Hawke said, laughing.

"What?" he said, confused.

"What?" she said, guffawing. "Can you be more anal?"

"Well…" he said, brooding. "Can you be more chaotic?"

She scoffed dramatically.

"That was a serious question," he said flatly.

She ignored him, and laid back down on his lap. She was so pretty with that choker, and he couldn't stop playing with her hair.

"What?" Hawke said, chuckling.

"Nothing," Fenris said softly, tracing a long red strand of hair. Her eyes followed his finger, and her winged eyelids fell as her dark lips slightly parted. "You're just… very pretty."

Her eyes moved up on him, then away. She smiled, though she did not want to. "I like this side of you," she said suddenly with a vixen look. It sparked an electricity in him that he looked away, chuckling nervously.

"Oh, boy. He liked that," Hawke teased him, unbuttoning her coat.

He forgot he had a penis.

"Shut up," Fenris said, shifting in his seat as he struggled to rearrange things.

"He's so into me," Hawke narrated smugly, her arm going over her head as the stripy slopes of her breasts towered in her jumper. "I don't even need to show my ankles."

Fenris looked at her, reaching inside his coat.

"He can't wait to write about me," Hawke went on, hugging herself. She closed her eyes and made her voice deep and tortured. "Dear diary. It's your boy, Fenris. Please send help. I heart Hawke so much I can't even—"

"That is… not how I sound," Fenris said, shaking his head as he wrote.

"I forget how I even sound," Hawke lamented, putting an arm over her eyes.

"Good job. I am literally speechless," Fenris said sarcastically, starting another bullet point. He was going to break it down into multiple infractions like an asshole.

"I am literally speechless and I forget words," Hawke whined, her arms squeezing between her raised thighs. "How should I tell her? I'm going to tell her. Hawke, I … uh, what's the word? Hawke, I want to have fucky-fucky with you. Ah, vishanty kerfuffle!"

Fenris absent-mindedly wrote 'fucky-fucky'.

He inhaled deeply, and let the pencil—and mask—fall. He stared at her, his hand going up her neck as his face went down to hers. "I want to have 'fucky-fucky' with you," he said in a serious, deep voice.

She didn't laugh. It wasn't that funny now, was it? And there it was. That expression on her face that made him be at full mast in a second—when her inner eyebrows sloped upwards and she looked up at him fixedly, almost cross-eyed with anticipation. It was rather hard not to do anything about it.

It didn't matter. Her hands invaded his hair, and he felt the cold silk of her lips against his. His heart beat faster with every kiss, and so did hers; he could feel the hurrying beat of her pulse as he sank his fingers deeper into her neck, on the sides, right beneath her jaw. He had her life in his hand for a few riveting seconds, then it was time to return it. The moan that escaped her in his mouth shot through his body like a midnight bolt of electricity, and his cock howled demands of being inside her.

He brought her up to sit on him in the next second. She wrapped her arms around his neck and found his tongue with a fury. He was becoming someone else. He didn't think. He just did. And he wanted to do so many things to her—bite her, spank her, hold her tight and fuck her to exhaustion. He was ever-present, taking in everything, ready to give everything. He'd always been adept at languages, but this one was hands down the easiest language he'd ever learned. His hands pressed against her tits, down her hips and grabbed hard onto her bum, bringing her closer into his erection. He could feel her thighs tightening on his sides when her pussy landed against him. Blood surged through his hands and screamed to tear everything off her. As he made her grind on him, she broke the kiss and stifled a moan, lowering her forehead onto his. He slowed down and looked up at her, saw the luscious hunger in her eyes, felt the weight of her tightening against him and he bit down the desire brimming on his lip.

"Fuck it, let's go downst—" she said.

He picked her up immediately.

As they approached the door, Fenris put Hawke down and she took out her key.

"Come on," he said, pulling on her belt and pressing against her. "Faster. Faster."

"I'm trying," she said with a chuckle. But there were sounds coming from beyond door. Interesting sounds. She pressed her ear against it and her mouth opened. "Holy—"

"They beat us to it?" he complained quietly, his head falling back in frustration. "Vishante kaffas."

"They're having 'I love you' sex!" Hawke whispered with big eyes, turning to him.

"You mean making love?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow. He pressed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Why am I listening to this?!"

"I don't know. Maybe it turns you on," she said, shrugging.

"Not really," he said flatly.

"Okay, maybe it turns me on," she said with a shit-eating grin.

Fenris shifted his weight on one leg, scanned her up and down, and gave her a withering stare. "You are just all kinds of deviant."

Hawke looked at him up and down with a hand on her hip. "Elves with massive hard-ons shouldn't throw shade." The dick print was brilliant and inevitable. But not one muscle moved on his face. She flashed her eyebrows smugly.

Fenris pointed down with both index fingers. "This is your fault."

"I'm not doing anything!" she said with a defensive laugh, opening her arms and looking around her.

"You're listening to people having sex," he insisted.

"Oh, so my deviance turns you on," Hawke said smugly, crossing her arms.

"Wel—" Fenris stammered. He swallowed hard, staring at her. "Yeah!" he said in frustration.

She laughed with an evil smile, biting the nail on her pinkie. "Yeah?" she said, leaning on the opposite wall suggestively. "You like it when I'm super naughty?"

His eyes shimmered like cold emeralds, and she could hear him breathing.

"Someone does need to teach you a lesson," he said with calm threat in his eyes, taking a step in, "to respect other people's privacy."

She chuckled, biting her lip. "I love a good lesson."

He gave her a mad grin as he took her face, and just as he was about to kiss her, the moaning beyond the door became loud, passionate and deeply unavoidable. She widened her eyes, while he became very rigid. "Nope," he said, walking away. "Too weird."

"Yep," she said woodenly, following him.

"I need a drink. Or twenty," he said grumpily.

"Yeah. I'm gonna reserve my nosiness for horny strangers," she said, brushing her hair.

"Please," he agreed.

"I mean it's all fair, really," she went on. "It's their night."

"'I love you' sex and all," he mocked her.

"Yes. 'I love you' sex and all," she insisted. "It may fall under the umbrella of making love, but it's a very specific thing," she said with sharp, narrow eyes.

"Alright. Enlighten me," he said flatly.

"It's like the first time you're both really open and vulnerable and free to express everything under the sun," she explained passionately, shaping a circle in the air. "Then it all becomes… magic."

Fenris brooded. "It's… pretty magic already," he said, a glint of hurt in his flat tone. "For me, anyway," he said, looking away.

"Okay, is this about the 'whatever' thing?" Hawke said as they went down the stairs. "It wasn't what you think."

"What was it, then?" he said, going to the bar. There were much fewer people around now. Bull and Krem were gone, and so was the minstrel. The bartender was having a deep conversation with two other patrons.

She sighed, putting an arm atop the bar. "I was super drunk. You were super angry. I just don't want to remember that night as our 'almost' night. I'd rather remember the one with the statue desecration, really. At least that one ended with a laugh. Or this one? This one was after a good talk patching things up."

Fenris stared at the bar. "You're right," he said, throwing some coins on it. "Perhaps it's a good a thing we didn't do anything tonight."

Eventually they got their drinks and sat down.

"So, if you could choose exactly the way you want to remember the first time, how would it look like?" Hawke said.

"Hmm," Fenris said, thinking it through. "Well, there would be total and complete privacy, for a start."

"Your place," she agreed, shrugging.

"And there would be nothing else to do the day after," he went on sternly.

She smiled. "I'm free for the next few days."

"Good," he said, grinning. "What about you?"

"Oh, that's it?" she said, chuckling. "That's all you need for the experience?"

"I will leave the rest to fate," he said, drinking. "Or… you."

She laughed. "Alright." How uncharacteristically laissez-faire of him. Maybe he just trusted her enough now. She started thinking of her own answer.

"It wouldn't hurt if you wore a skirt," Fenris said quietly, drinking.

"Wouldn't it?" Hawke said, amused.

"No, I'll be fine," he said nonchalantly. "I have the poultice now."

She laughed. "Who's the anus now?"

"I think it's still you," he said, drinking. A little smirk came on his face. "Generally speaking."

She sighed, smiling. "Alright, I thought of one."

"Go on."

"I'd prefer if there wasn't any… dynamic to it. Just… leave that up to fate, as well."

He nodded knightly. "Fair enough."

"You're alright with that?" she said with a smile.

"I just want you," he said nonchalantly, drinking. "Everything else is just…" he said, making circles with his finger in the air as if he was trying to remember the rest, "… blowing bubbles."

She beamed with warmth, and she kissed his cheek.

Midnight, The White Swallow

By Hawke's rationale, they decided to give Aveline and Donnic their time and went out. The streets were still lively with cheery drunks, and there was a considerable number of Guards giving them stern policeman stares. Hawke remembered Bull and Krem talking about a gay burlesque show not far from the town centre.

There was a queue of men of all fashion styles at the door, with the occasional possible woman.

"I don't think I'm going to fit in," Hawke said, very blasé.

"There's a female," Fenris said, pointing further ahead to a person Hawke would have pegged for a transvestite based on the fact they weren't trying to sound feminine. But there was no point in guessing. They were who they were, and it wasn't their business.

But his voice could travel through walls, so the two men in front of them gave him looks.

Hawke cleared her throat, looking down. "Leave your assumptions at the door, love."

"Lest you want trouble," one of the men said, whose voice sounded like sandpaper rubbing on even more sandpaper. He had a very well-kept brown beard and the corner of his moustache curved upwards. But his eyebrow was the most poignant as it raised on him, then at her. It was a look that sharply asked, "Are you lost?"

"No trouble," Fenris said flatly.

"Go easy on him. He's from Tevinter," Hawke said casually.

The moustache man raised an eyebrow and scanned him up and down. His blonde partner with a floral-patterned shirt rolled his eyes. "So gay," he said.

"I'm not gay," Fenris said defensively.

Hawke face-palmed. One more line and they had to run, didn't they?

"I don't know," the floral guy said in a sarcastic sing-songy tone. "Vints are pretty gay."

"I'm—" Fenris stammered. He sighed, bumping his elbow into hers. "What am I again?"

"Awkward," Hawke said.

"Defensive," the floral guy said with a grin.

"Bit of a wanker," the moustache man said flatly.

"Demi," Fenris said victoriously. "I'm demibisexual."

"That's not a thing, honey," the floral guy said.

"Demisexual biromantic," Hawke corrected.

The moustache man frowned. "What?"

"Urgh, we'll be here all day," Fenris whined, his head falling back.

"Basically his heart needs to swell before anything else does," Hawke explained. "But it can swell for any gender."

"I have a swelling headache," Fenris said tiredly.

The floral guy chuckled. "Your sexuality is a headache."

"Agreed," Fenris said.

"And you, love?" the moustache man said.

"Oh, I'll swell for anyone," Hawke said, brushing it off. Fenris gave her a look. "In… theory."

"Ugh. Monogamists," the floral guy said, rolling his eyes. "Avert your eyes, dear," he said, making the moustache man turn his back on them.

"I'm confused," Fenris whispered to her.

"He was trying to find something he didn't like about us so the conversation was over," Hawke guessed.

"Oh," he said, thinking. "I like him."

Finally, they made it to the door. Fenris stared at the white swallow sign taking flight on top of the venue, and he pursed his lips. "They ruined birds for me."

"Look on the bright side. At least they didn't ruin an exotic bird," Hawke said.

"Swallows are exotic," he said irritably.

"For you," she said with a chuckle, opening the door.

"For you," he mimicked her with a mock high-pitched voice, following her in.

Inside, there was a sprawling mass of smoke covering what seemed like a wide baroque lounge with purple curtains and golden arches. A mile of smoke later, they saw the stage. The famed burlesque show turned out to be two drag queens and a guy who probably never had to try at anything. They were singing off-key from a music sheet stand next to some minstrels.

"Yo, Cupcake!" a deep voice shouted. It was a pair of horns with smoke for a face.

"Bull?" Hawke said, approaching the table.

"Ah, and you brought Mrs Cupcake," Bull said, crossing his extended legs. There was a huge pitcher of something blue at the table, behind which Krem's crew cut was expelling smoke. "Take it you love birds made up."

"I thought gay people were supposed to be good at performative arts," Fenris said, taking a seat.

"You mean the show? You missed it," Bull said. "These queens are just fucking around."

"Was it good?" Hawke asked.

"It was great," Bull said with a smile.

"Where's Mrs Krem?" Hawke said.

"Sadly, there will be no Mrs Krem," he announced dejectedly.

"Yeah, he started talking about genocide," Bull said, crossing his arms with a shrug. "Even I couldn't help him after that."

Fenris chuckled to himself. "You need to find a hardcore girl."

"I know, right?" Bull said. "The way he goes off on morbid tangents, I'm surprised Skinner hasn't jumped his bones."

"Maybe she's a lesbian," Krem offered.

"Maybe," Bull said, shrugging.

"A woman in my book club is a lesbian," Fenris said matter-of-factly.

They looked at him.

"Cool," Bull said flatly.

Hawke bit down her laughter.

"Or at least that's what she claims to be. I think it's for political reasons—" Fenris said.

"Hey, Fen Fen—" Hawke said quickly. "Would you be a sweetheart and get us some drinks?"

Fenris nodded knightly and left.

"He's uhm…" Hawke said, gesturing awkwardly, "… new to this."

"No shit," Bull said, laughing.

"I have sympathy for the man," Krem said. "Tevinter is not a nice place."

"A queen in the queue outside said they're pretty gay," Hawke said.

"Oh, some are queer as a rainbow cucumber, but it's very hush-hush," Krem said. "Most of them just do it with their slaves, so technically it's not gay."

She felt bad, but also confused. "How is it not gay?"

"Slaves aren't considered people," Krem said. "It's like doing it with an object."

She felt really bad.

She knew this, of course. It was just even sadder when Krem said it as if it were nothing.

"Vints are fucked up," Bull said.

"Here, here!" Krem said, raising his pint.

"They probably think wiping is gay," Bull said.

"Not if a slave does it for them," Krem said.

"They need slaves to wipe?" Bull said irritably. He sighed. "How are these vashedan idiots winning the war?"

"They fight dirty, whereas your people cling to a code," Krem said.

"They're not my people, Krem," Bull said. It touched a nerve.

"I don't wanna be a buzzkill, but you two are being kind of a buzzkill," Hawke intervened innocently.

"It's his fault," Bull said cheekily.

"Yeah," Krem said, sighing. "I don't know what's going on with me tonight."

"Something's in the air," Hawke said conversationally.

"There's nothing in the air but smoke and farts," Bull said dismissively. "And only like half of them are mine."

"For now," Hawke said, squinting in concentration.

Fenris asked a pretty bartender person for drinks. He was not going to assume. But they just seemed like a pretty guy.

"You alone, hun?" a masculine voice said from behind. It was a random human with a mullet who should watch his own arse.

"No," Fenris said bitchily.

Mullet man looked at his neck. "No collar, though."

MAKE HIM EAT HIS OWN TESTICLES! the half-blind man growled.

"What?" Fenris said, scowling.

"Alright, tall glass of sass," mullet man said with a chuckle. "Take it easy. I thought you were in the scene," he said, waving his finger up and down to suggest his appearance was… 'of the scene', whatever that meant. He lost interest and left.

What was taking the pretty man—person so long?

"I know, right?" another human with a chest that reminded him of Varric said. He was sitting at the bar. "These guys can be so aggressive."

"Well, it's a gay bar," Fenris said monotonously.

"Doesn't mean you should be so forward and presumptive," hairy chest man said softly. "Bottoms are still people."

Bottom?! the hard-up grinning lunatic said, insulted. What a fucking hypocrite.

Fucker has Anders energy written all over him, the gruff one said.

"But you're not, right? You're a nice guy," Fenris said, resting his hand on the bar.

"I'd like to think I am," hairy chest man said with a chuckle.

Finally, the pretty bartender came back.

"You're not," Fenris said, grabbing his drinks and leaving.

Along the way, he passed a group of elves dancing. They whistled at him and one of them called him "Daddy".

He spilled a little, and walked faster.

"Thanks, Fen Fen," Hawke said, nursing her beach sex. "So as I was saying, there is no freaking way that the Divine isn't aware how bad it is in Kirkwall. She just chooses to turn a blind eye—"

"Wait. He looks like he's seen some things," Bull said.

"I hate humans," Fenris said grumpily, brushing her back softly as he sat down as if to say, 'But I hate you the least'.

"What happened?" Hawke said, raising an eyebrow.

"I played by the rules. I did not assume," Fenris said with his palms up in frustration. "But they didn't seem to get the same memo," he said bitchily.

"Maybe their pigeons were drunk," Bull said.

"Don't bring pigeons into this," Fenris threatened him.

"Calm down and walk us through it," Hawke said.

"They all think I'm a bottom," Fenris complained. "Except for the elves. Those guys couldn't wait to call me 'Daddy'."

Hawke laughed softly, but it became louder and louder and she couldn't stop it. Krem laughed to himself, while Bull just smiled.

"It's not funny," he said in annoyance.

"It's—" she tried, and failed. She kept laughing, holding onto him. It was so funny.

"Ah, here is my supportive girlfriend, everyone," Fenris said, showing her off.

Attempt #47 to stop laughing failed.

"Racists," Fenris muttered.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm a bottom," Bull said comradely.

"Really?" Fenris said.

"No, but that'd be funny, wouldn't it?" Bull said with a shit-eating smile.

"Hilarious," Fenris said insincerely.

"It's just—" Hawke tried. She held onto Fenris's shoulder, breathing out. She laughed again, but finally found the will to stop. "It's just stupid assumptions based on size. Fuck'em."

"I thought these people were supposed to be enlightened," Fenris complained.

"Who? The queers?" Bull said. He guffawed. "No, no. We're pretty awful."

"Especially to each other," Hawke said, nodding with her eyes closed.

"Oh," Fenris said, thinking to himself. "Your harness is ridiculous," he said, then raised an eyebrow at Krem. "And orange doesn't do you any favours."

Hawke guffawed, kissing the table.

"Did I do it?" Fenris said, looking around the table. "Am I in the club now?"

"I don't know. Do you like guys too?" Bull said.

Fenris held onto his red drink, and looked around. "I like the bartender."

"Ah, that works out well, doesn't it? You can have the wedding here at a discount," Hawke said, laughing.

Fenris glared at her. He drank. "He was aesthetically pleasing, and he did not make any conversation."

"Of course," Hawke said, nodding. "Man after your own heart."

"How are you two together?" Bull said, shaking his head in earnest disbelief.

"I have a soft spot for loveable dickheads," Fenrs said, drinking.