With rugs and blankets in their stargazing arsenal, Hawke followed Fenris to the roof. The night was quiet and there was still a summery warmth in the air. The Keep was still illuminated with fairy lights, but the music had stopped. There were still candlelit windows in the houses nearby, as well as more celebratory fairy lights. Like a nocturnal honeycomb rising to meet them.

"So, have you made this your secret place?" she said, laying down the rugs.

"A place I like, yes," he said with a little smile.

"If I wasn't so tired, I might have asked you for another dance," she said, sitting down next to him.

"Thank the gods you're tired," he said with a little smirk.

And why would she think he was the dancing type? He seemed more like one of those statues in deep meditation. But his minor bird obsession gave her a different idea. Plus, when he wanted to explain something using a comparison, he'd sometimes use some story from a Tevinter play. He could have had a good leg, underneath all that anesthetised existence. Perhaps something to poke at him later with, in time.

"Man, I missed this place," she said, hugging her knees. "I can't believe it!"

"Kirkwall has grown on you," he said perceptively.

She nodded to herself, smiling. "Yeah, I think it has." She looked up at the stars. "Time to set free the Wings of Chaos!" she said, making her arms wings.

"Will Kirkwall survive this storm?"

"It better. I've worked too hard to get a sense of peace."

"Chaos invites destruction, though. You've said you'd been destroyed before. Do you think you've had enough for a lifetime?"

Ever the sensitive man, Fenris was. A soul inquisitor. She might even tell him about it one day. But she didn't trust him enough. Didn't believe he'd understand. On the contrary, he'd probably harrow Judgement Day upon her. She wasn't planning on travelling to the end of the Major Arcana just yet. If there was a Tower to quake and fall to destruction, it had to be built first. Now where was the chisel?

"I think I have a few rounds left in me, yeah," she said, leaning back on her elbows.

He mirrored her movements, but he wasn't looking up at the sky. A different constellation was preoccupying him.

"Did you get a tattoo?" he said flatly, looking at her wrist.

"Oh, yeah," she said, pulling her sleeve up.

It was a vine of light pinkish flowers along faded green leaves and stems going up her right arm and shoulder. It wasn't really a flower vine. It was a map. There were knots in it with names of cities she went to. It was Val Firmin at the wrist, going up to Val Foret and Val Royeaux on her forearm, Val Chevin past her elbow and up to Cumberland on her shoulder.

"Where else have you been?" he said, raising a sharp eyebrow.

"The Free Marches and Ferelden, of course."

"Interesting," he said, contained. He knew she came from Ferelden, and that she travelled through the marches. There was nothing interesting about geography. Or was there?

"Maybe one day I'll take you to Ferelden," Hawke said, flashing her eyebrows.

Fenris cleared his throat and suddenly found the night sky more interesting.

"I'm still getting used to Kirkwall," he said with a little contained smile.

"Let's get you bonded, then," she said, offering her hand.

His brow went up in a little undignified look, and he breathed. "Do I dare ask?"

"Oh, come on, I told you I don't do itchy rope," she said, sticking her tongue out. She took him to the edge of the roof, between two gargoyles, their feet dangling in the air.

Fenris looked over the divine urban tapestry and inhaled. It almost felt healing being here. He had terrible pain, but he didn't want to wear it like a jacket. Although maybe he was wrong to think that showing his pain was a mistake with Hawke. She had plenty. She could sit with it. If he could sit with hers, could she sit with his?

He felt it in his chest, a black hole with tendrils of pain. But he also felt like something inside him was healing. Maybe soul-healing wasn't like a luminous force that covered up the black pain, and just took over the place. Maybe soul-healing was like strings of fairy lights that danced with the darkness. Had an ongoing conversation.

"Do you come here often?"

"I like the view."

"Don't tell me you're a peeping tom."

Fenris chuckled. "Do you think me that shallow?"

"No, I just think you that…" She smacked her lips. "Wow, I don't know a nice way to finish this sentence."

"Oh, my," he said, pretending to be hurt. "What mortal sin am I guilty of now?"

"Not a sin, per se, more like a recurring property of nature."

"Oh, I see what you're saying," he said, smirking to himself and shaking his head. "I'm a man," he said, letting his head fall back, "and men are terrible, and disgusting and obsessed with the flesh."

"Hey, I didn't say it."

"But you were thinking it."

"Well, I'm okay with being wrong," she said, smiling a little. "Am I wrong?"

"You're wrong," he said, coming forward. The wind blew and sent myriad of street gifts their way. He caught a little white flower between his fingers, one that was carried up from the ivy columns below. He took her hand and placed the flower near Val Foret, inside her wrist bobbles. "Some of us have other priorities."

Oh, sweet, beautiful pain. This guy was going to tear her into pieces one day. She just knew it.

"Like what?" she said, containing herself.

He let out a deep sigh. "Remember what you said earlier about broken people? That we're dangerous?" he said. He looked up to the Solis/Elgar'nan constellation. "I think you're right. And it terrifies me."

She was surprised by his honesty. "Yeah. It terrifies me too," she said, petting her forearm. "It's not just danger to other people, you know. In fact, most of the time, it's more a danger to yourself."

"Self-destruction, then?" he said, looking at her.

"Yeah," she said softly, looking into his eyes. "I don't want to self-destruct. I came close a few times. That's not the story I want for myself."

"How do you avoid that?" he asked, very attentive now.

She traced her fingers up her right arm. "I go where the trees take me."

"You are obsessed with trees."

"Hey, they got me to you, and now you have a nice planetarium right above your house. I think it works."

"I just don't understand it."

She sighed, tried to explain it better. "Well, there's like a voice, right? A parliament of voices inside you that tell you you're doomed, and worthless, and you deserve to be hated, to hate yourself too. And suddenly you're in that coliseum, pointed, and booed and laughed at; your whole world is swallowed by darkness, inviting you to self-destruct. But then there's this other team of voices somewhere in the seats, shouting from the rooftop not to give up. To remember the good stuff, your soul mission, your relationships, your victories, all the journey you've gone through so far. They tell me it's all worth it, and it was meant to be this way. I was meant to fall this deep, so I learn to help myself up, forgive myself for my mistakes, have compassion for myself, and then the next time I fall, I'll be ready and I'll save myself again."

"So, they want to empower you to be your own hero," he said, thinking.

"Well… you can't do it without people. Without being close to other people," she said, looking at him. "But you're the only one who can really heal yourself."

He studied her quietly, seemed a little disarmed. "And have you?"

She inhaled. "I'm doing it. I'll let you know how it goes."

Fenris, in turn, felt a quiet, dizzy breeze push his hair back. An awareness had come over him that he wasn't going to die. Loneliness itself could not destroy him and neglect was insufficient. With that feeling, he looked up at the indigo sky and smiled to himself.

"And what are you going to do… now that you've made a stop in your travels?" he said to her.

"I'm gonna make this city better. Starting, probably, with making it up to my friends," she said, thinking. "Those spikes in Lowtown are next. Then I'll see where the trees take me." The wind blew again, disturbing their hair. "Or the wind, maybe?"

"Are you sure your name is Hawke? You sound like a Marethari."

She chuckled. "I know you're being a jerk, but I'll take it as a compliment." She looked at him. "What about you? Will you stay?" she said, a little hope in her voice.

"I would return to Seheron if I could, but…" Fenris said, inhaling bitterly, "there is no life for me there…"

"Yeah, war zones don't exactly scream 'Let's settle down and have a family!'" Hawke said.

"You know about that?" he said, surprised.

"Yeah, I went to the library after that whole deal with Flemeth. Found a book on the Qunari, and… yeah, the chapter on Seheron depressed and terrified me to my very soul."

He closed his eyes and composed himself. "As it should."

"Kirkwall's looking pretty good by comparison."

"Yes. Quite luxurious conditions for a former slave, don't you think?"

"Sounds like you want to stick around."

"I could see myself staying, for the right reasons," he said, looking at her.

His piercing green eyes were a honey lemon torture. She really wanted to kiss him.

"But I'm not going to another ball anytime soon," he continued, looking away. "I had to play nanny for five people today, one of which is supposed to be my boss. I had seven people call me a rabbit. And one disgusting man trying to pay me for sex."

"But did you have fun?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "It sounded like you had fun."

"Well, I suppose I hurt a lot of feelings," he said, becoming titillated again. "I managed to make Anders shut up. That was wonderful. And I got to fix Aveline's hair. She got bangs, did you know?"

"I saw." She shook her head. "Tsk, tsk, see? You're wedded to the negative."

"I'm not wedded to the negative." She struck a nerve.

"Dating it then," she said, sticking her tongue out. "Even this," she said, gesturing around. "When I met you, I thought two things. One—boy, he has a lot of anger issues."

He chuckled shyly.

"Two—I saw you more like a creature of books than a man of the sword. All quiet and elegant and reflective."

"Sit back, people, she has a theory," he said tiredly.

"And yet, despite those things, you are still in a house that's falling apart. More like a dark dungeon or a prison than a house. And you still wear that armour."

"Well, the spikes do make my shoulders look broader."

She chuckled. "Good looks notwithstanding, I feel you're punishing yourself."

"Boy, you sure like putting the anal in psychoanalytic," Fenris said grumpily.

"Am I wrong?" Hawke said.

Something moved in him again. It was that shadow of a pain again on his face, trying to get out. But this time it came with a buddy. An aggressive buddy.

"What's it to you?" he said quietly, curtly.

Her eyebrows rose. Where did that come from?

He shifted in his seat and contained himself.

She flicked him on the head. "Because I care about you, doofus!"

He looked at her with a mean scowl, ready to attack. "I don't need your pity."

"Pity?!" she said, her chin disappearing into her neck. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—" He looked away and she grabbed his shoulder so he'd look at her again. He was not happy with that. "There's no pity here! If you want pity, go find some puppy orphanage! But you don't belong there. You're not a little wolf. You're a big bad wolf." She wiped the air in front of his face, which was all kinds of violent teeth. "Like that," she said, leaning in with an unafraid, lingering smirk.

Hawke thought he'd double down, but instead she saw a small lift to Fenris's eyebrows, his eyes piercing her again. Searching for something. She felt him come nearer, the whole sky flickering behind him.

Wooosht!

An arrow slashed the air right between their faces and hit the top of the Kirkwall flag on the next building. They looked quickly ahead and saw Varric on top of the Chantry with Olimpe, looking quite grim. Fenris wasn't even mad. He was impressed that even drunk, Varric was a good shot.

"Shit," she said as she got up. "Stay right there, Varric! I'm coming for you!"

"Save it, Pantaloons!" Varric shouted and jumped off in the night.

Hawke sank into her hand. "Fuck me! What were the odds?"

Fenris pursed his lips. "Better than you think."

"Urghhhhhhh!"

"Just talk to him. You've done it with me. You can do it again."

"It's not the same! You're easier."

"How am I easier?"

"Because, while we're friends, I expect you to give me the death glare."

"Sorry, I got lost at the 'we're friends' part," Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, grow up! We are friends," Hawke said, jumping off the balustrade.

Night time, The Hanged Man

Varric's door was locked, and it was receiving a love confession written in desperate banging.

"Varric, please open the door!" Hawke pleaded, but there was no response. "Vaaarriiiiiiic!" she whined babyishly. "I'm sorry for leaving all that shit to you, and you have to know I missed you like crazy!"

Still nothing.

"Look, I'll clean your room for a month!" she said desperately. "Three months, how's that?"

"There's… a slight chance he's not even in here," Fenris said calmly behind her.

She ignored him and tried to get Corff to give her the spare key, which he responded to by closing his door in her face.

"Hawke," Fenris said behind her. "Hawke!"

"What?!" she shouted.

"Maybe you should sit down first, and breathe."

"No, I need to find him!"

"Yes, but you're all swirly and chaotic."

"But, what if—"

"Andraste, please calm your bitch rockets."

Hawke looked at him blankly, and cracked up. "What?"

"I'm spending too much time with him," Fenris said, shaking his head.

"What, are you best pals now?"

"Does that make you jealous?"

"No," she lied.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, then, Rocket Man, where do you think your boyfriend might be hiding?"

"Well… he was with an Orlesian thief… assassin… something."

Her eyes widened. "The Rose!"

"You left it at my house."

"No, the Rose. Follow me."

Dawn, The Blooming Rose

As they entered, she ran into an old friend. Her part-time masseuse, part-time rope instructor. She didn't have sex with him, because it felt weird to do it with a stranger, but in this place, it was hardly believable. She may have eventually gone on that road, to be fair, but when she met Fenris, so much blood rushed from her brain to her genitals she could barely get up in the morning and put on her trousers. She thought it shouldn't bother her, because she was all sex-liberated, but that mental conviction took time to reach the heart.

"Well, well, well…" Dory said, his hands on his hips. "Look who's alive and still owes me a sovereign."

Fenris's eyebrows were lost somewhere in that night sky.

"Hey, man. I'll catch up with you later. I'm kind of in the middle of… something. I need help."

"Just you, or…?" Dory said, sizing up the other elf.

"Both," she said. "Wait, no. No. We're looking for Varric and an Orlesian assassin-thief-something. Have you seen them?"

Dory caressed his maxillary. "You know I can't divulge that."

"Oh, come on. For old times' sake."

"Only if you ask nicely."

She rolled her eyes. This was not the night she pictured. "Fine. Please, oh please, Sir Dorian, can you help me find my friend?"

"Aaand?" he said teasingly.

"And you have the greatest, softest hands in Thedas—Help me, already!"

She was dying inside.

"So mean and aggressive," Dory said, shaking his head. "I missed that."

"I'll come back. Just help me."

"Fine…" the elf said calmly. "Wait here."

So, they waited awkwardly on a wall. Fenris's jaw was clenched. She felt like explaining herself, but no. Why should she? This was between her and the rope man. Not like harpoon guy would understand.

"So that was…" Fenris said. He could have such a passive-aggressive, bitchy voice sometimes. It was still sexy, but in addition, she wanted to slap him.

"An old friend."

"Mhm."

More uncomfortable time passed.

"They've got really nice… lemon cakes here…" she said, biting on her thumbnail.

Dory came back and she felt like she could breathe again.

"He's here, isn't he?"

"Yes, and they're being a pain in the arse, so the Madam would be grateful if you talked them out of here nicely."

"On it."

The room was filled with smoke coming from Varric's cigar, while both a man and a woman were in various stages of caress with the Orlesian.

"Let me guess," Varric said grumpily. "You heard what name I called you in my head."

"You're a pig," Hawke said meanly. But turning this into a feminist issue wasn't going to help matters at the moment. She gave the sex workers a look like they were free to go. They seemed tired and grateful.

"Sorry, I left my respect in my other jacket."

"Is zis the famed Hawke, then?" Olimpe interrupted, now sex-worker-less.

"Hey… guy in a mask. I presume you heard bad things."

"I won't kiss and tell," Olimpe said. "Enchanté," he said, shaking her hand. "Unless I get to kiss your hand."

"You can try, but it may turn into a fist," she said, smiling fakely.

"Oof. It's like you're twins!" the Orlesian said towards her and Fenris.

She looked at him.

"Don't ask," he said.

"Naw, naw, she's too busy kissing other people instead of apologising to the friend she screwed the most," Varric said passive-aggressively.

"I need to get on my knees, don't I?" Hawke said tiredly.

"That'd be a great start," Varric said with crossed arms. But then a sliver of guilt came on his face. "But I'm not that cruel."

Hawke gave Fenris a sly, judgemental look. He scratched his head.

"What was that?" Varric said.

"Nothing."

"No, no. You shared a look."

She tensed up awkwardly. "Let's just say I might have to introduce him to an old friend."

"What?" Fenris said curtly. "I'm not gay."

Hawke raised an eyebrow while Varric face-palmed himself. "Dude, you really gotta stop that."

"Wait, why are you not gay?" she said, confused.

Fenris made a clusterfuck of outraged expressions. "I don't know. Because I was born this way?"

"No, I meant why did you feel the need to clarify it to everyone?"

"That's what I'm talking about," Varric said. "Mr Heterosexual over here thinks everyone's setting him up with guys."

"But you did!" Fenris said angrily.

"I didn't," Hawke said.

"No, he did."

"One time!" Varric said angrily.

"Oh, yeah," Hawke said, laughing. "He told me. That was hilarious," she said, fist-bumping Varric. He fist-bumped her back unthinkingly. He still wanted to be mean and pouty.

"It's not funny."

"It's… pretty funny," she said, her face an amusement. "I mean now you're the I'm-not-gay Guy."

"How's that funny? It makes me sound like I have a problem!"

"But you do have a problem," Varric said.

"I do not."

He did have a problem. But it wasn't one that the clowns of Southern Thedas would understand. In Tevinter, elven slaves were 'fairies', whether they liked it or not. They were bitches. And while ever the enthusiastic historian, Fenris was not enthusiastic to teach this lesson.

"Alright, alright…" Hawke said, coming in-between them. "You're not gay. He's not gay. He's… some kind of gay—"

"I'm bisexual, thank you very much," the Orlesian said, offended.

"Yeah, that's what I meant," she said, clearing her throat. "Oh, no offence, I'm bi too."

"Oh, nice," Olimpe said, a smile springing up his face.

"I feel like I'm in an ancient tragic play," Fenris said, rubbing his forehead.

"Alright, calm down. I meant I'd have to introduce you to a rope instructor."

"Wait, what?" Varric said, all ears.

They both tensed up again. Hawke face-palmed herself. "Alright, let's start again—"

"No, no, what's that about rope?" Varric asked meanly.

"I have no idea," Fenris said.

"His harpoons are misfiring," Hawke lied. But oh, she regretted it. It didn't sound right.

Varric broke into laughter. "Misfiring, huh?" Olimpe joined him.

"My harpoons are fine!" Fenris said defensively.

"OKAY!" Hawke shouted, widening her arms. "The energy in this room is at eleven and I need at like a six… You two sit over there and be quiet!" she said to Fenris and Olimpe.

"Yes, m'am," the Orlesian said enthusiastically.

Fenris only just noticed Olimpe was a redhead, too. "Maker, where'd you find this guy? A travelling circus?"

"You have a problem, homophobe?" Olimpe said, coming into his face.

"No… no problem," Fenris said tiredly. "I just think you're a rebound clown."

"Hey, that's… sweet and hurtful at the same time!" Hawke said.

"He's not a rebound clown," Varric said. "Broody's just jealous I have other friends."

"Oh, please—"

"Sit the fuck down!" Hawke roared. "And shut up!"

They finally did.

"Okay…" she said, sighing, and sat down next to Varric. "I found Carver. He's fine."

Varric's face filled with relief, but he tried not to show it. "Good," he said.

"But you're not, so, from the bottom of my heart, Varric, I'm sorry for leaving all this shit on you," she said.

"You just left!" Varric said. "You-you left me in charge, which you know I hate! You gave me the fucking Bone Pit! Why on Thedas would you think that was a better idea than me coming with you, huh?"

"Well, if you came with me, who would pick up the slack, hm? Fenris?"

"Yeah, right!" Fenris said, crossing his arms.

"Pa-pa-pa," Hawke said, "I'll tell you when you can talk again."

"Aveline could've—"

"What? Run a mercenary company as Captain of the Guard? Partner with an Orlesian in a mine?"

"Well, yeah, but why make me sole leader of the mercenary company but give me a co-leader in the Bone Pit, hm?"

Hawke laughed softly. "Because if Fenris was in charge of my mercenary company, it would rise to the top of the most famed anti-mage factions virtually overnight. With the Bone Pit, it's different. He's good with metals, he's confrontational with authority, his history with Tevinter makes him better at recognising abuse in the work place, he's good with numbers—"

"Alright, alright, quit kissing his arse—"

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Varric, it wasn't the best way to handle things. I admit, I wasn't thinking clearly. I was kind of unhinged and thought on my feet. But I really thought this was the best option. And I'm going to make it up to you in whatever way you like."

"Why'd you stop sending letters, huh?" he said angrily.

"Fenris's bounty hunters started following me. I was delayed."

"Oh." Varric waded further through his list of grievances. "Well, you still didn't come straight to me! I mean, what the hell?"

She started looking constipated. "I was afraid of your reaction. I needed some… practice. Because you're very justified in your anger and it would hurt more coming from you."

Varric sighed. "That's kinda sweet," he grumbled. He shook his head. "You're a crazy bitch, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I love you, man!" she said, grabbing his shoulder.

"It's true. She made quite the moving love declaration to your door an hour ago," Fenris said.

"What the hell? I love you too," Varric said, grabbing her shoulder.

"Aw, good," Hawke said, rubbing his back.

"Awwwwwwww," Olimpe said to Fenris. "Aren't they just adorable?"

"They're something," Fenris said.

"So, what did she say to my door?" Varric asked enthusiastically.

"What didn't she say?" Fenris said, his head falling back. "How much she loved you, that not one night went by on the road where she didn't pleasure herself at the thought of you, that she couldn't wait to get back and have your babies—"

Varric raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

"Oh, yeah, all true," she said in amusement.

"I'm flattered, Pantaloons," he said, taking her shoulder. "But you'll have to settle for a rebound night-owl," he said, giving Fenris a mean look.

"Oh, I'm gonna be quite busy!" she said, illustrating the wings of chaos. "Can we get out of here now?"

"Not so fast. How old are you again, Chuckles?" Varric said.

"Uh…" She forgot, to be honest. She counted on her fingers. "I don't know. I was born in the summer of '06."

"Twenty-five, then," Fenris said.

"That is some quick math," Varric said, squinting. "Wait… is that how you win at Diamondback?"

"I'm not going to divulge my secrets," he said, smirking.

"I feel old," Hawke said despondently.

"You're just a kid," Varric said in amusement. "Anyway, after I'm done with you, you'll feel ten years older."

"What are you going to… do?" she said, squinting.

Varric intertwined his hands evilly. "Are you familiar with the Labours of Hermolaus?"

Fenris guffawed in the distance.

"No?" she said, worried.

"Good," Varric said. "You are hereby sentenced to twenty-five punishments."

"Is this a Kirkwaller thing?"

"No, just a me thing. Got a problem with that?"

"No, no, just… planning my funeral in my head."

"Smart kid."

Morning, The Fog Dream

Back in the Two-Headed Rooster Theatre, Fenris walked in, as he always did, to see the show. He would always stand in the aisle and wait. Hawke was the presenter now, and she started talking as soon he came in:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special show for you this evening!" she said enthusiastically. "Welcome to the Dance of Despair!"

The puppet audience applauded and Hawke went behind the curtain, as the orchestra started a dramatic little tune of cellos, violins, drums and harps. When the curtain rose, it showed an urban scenery of night-time Kirkwall. Hawke was standing in a dark navy closed bolero blouse with long sleeves, high-waisted black leggings and what Fenris presumed was a long grey pleated skirt, but looked more like a cape for legs, as the skirt part only fell to the sides and at the back. At one end of the stage sat in a thinking man position the dark-haired Fenris, with his marking-less bare chest, his full heart, his dark navy leggings and his fucking full dark wings.

Hawke walked slowly in his direction but looked at the sky. "Oh, my sweet pain, my plight!" she sang, looking at Fenris. The words were in Tevene. It was part of an aria he'd heard once, that Danarius hated. It was the wailing of a woman who had lost everything and started over in a foreign land. "Why do you hound me every day and night?"

She went behind him and touched hist chest, which dark-haired Fenris received gratefully, taking her hand. "I'm just nobody, a trivial exhaust, as I wonder these dark streets alone and lost!" she sang.

She left him, but kept an arm in the air as if to urge him to follow her. "Come with me for another dance. I want it to begin at once!" she sang, as they held hands in front of their chests.

But a pain moved through her face and she went away, singing to the audience. Dark Fenris started dancing a ballet, supporting her moves.

"I move mountains all the morning bright! I dance with the wind, the rain, the night! A little honey, a bit of love, a chance! And I dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, daaance!" she sang, as Dark Fenris hid behind her figure, holding her waist, and unleashing his wings so it looked like they were hers.

"Oh, I have nothing but hope," she sang bitterly, as the dark wings covered her figure. "In your absence, I try and I cope. Try as I might, without you in my life…" she sang, Dark Fenris coming to hold her chin as a display, "It's all just decorum, meaningless still life."

And then the rain poured shyly on them, as day went into night and night went into the day. They danced the dance of despair as she continued the chorus. "In all this noise, I run, afraid! Is it my turn now? Oh, here comes the pain…" She threw herself with arms wide open, Dark Fenris coming behind her waist with his wings. "Throughout Kirkwall, I lose myself, I cry. And I fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, flyyy!"

They danced the dance of despair, and then came holding hands to the audience. She fell down, losing his hand. "Not you again, my sweet pain! For all my crimes, I paid and I paid!" she wailed. She clawed open her bolero to reveal the broken heart. "Look what big a heart I could hurl!" she sang strongly, as she came up on her own proudly, with the Sun rising in the sky. "Oh, I am but a Child of the World!"

The orchestra rose turbulently as the Kirkwall rain turned into a violent storm. Lampposts collapsed and came flying into the audience, but they kept on dancing.

"And I fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, flyyyy!" Hawke sang, her hair wet, her arms along Dark Fenris's wings behind her.

Disclaimer: Song adapted from the beautiful Dernière Danse by Indila.