Hawke did not feel comfortable in the new house. It was so big and echoey and at night it was downright spooky. Her mother had taken her childhood bedroom and left her the master bedroom, which was nice, but also kind of sad. Besides, if walls could speak, they'd have screamed. The energy in that room felt very disquieted. Mojo didn't even want to sleep with her.

"Mistress Hawke, why… what are you doing in there?" Bodahn said, failing to mask his worry. Hawke had fallen asleep, finally, in one of the servants' quarters. Or more appropriately, a cupboard. In a bizarre attempt of holistic care, Sandal had left slices of meat on her face.

"Flenen—" Hawke stammered, waking up and flinching. Meat came off her eyebrows.

"You have a perfectly good bedroom upstairs, messere. Why must you do this to yourself?"

"I can't sleep in there. It's haunted or something," she said, peeling off a slice of smoked meat and eating it. "And don't call me Mistress!"

"Haunted?" Bodahn said in tones amicable enough this time to conceal the fact he thought she was crazy. "I shall get a handyperson to inspect your quarters again and I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Or a priestess," Hawke said, but then she blinked. She didn't want the Chantry in up in her business. She might wake up to Qunari worship crap hidden in her things. "Actually, never let Chantry people inside. Got that?"

Leandra's voice came searching for Hawke, whom Bodahn subsequently betrayed. "In here, my lady!"

Her mother lifted the curtain in the cupboard and stared at her. "Why do you have meat on your face?"

"I'm having breakfast," Hawke mumbled with her mouth full.

"She's slept in here, I'm afraid," Bodahn said.

"You know you can keep some things to yourself," Hawke grumbled with a threatening look.

Bodahn made an inaudible 'Ah', zipped his mouth and left.

"Why did you sleep in here, love? Is the bed not comfortable in your room?" Leandra said, sitting down on the small bed.

"I don't like it upstairs. It's weird," Hawke said, pouting and eating.

"Weird? What's weird about it?"

"I don't know. It smells weird."

"You mean clean?"

"Yeah, and it's so wide every move I make echoes."

"Aww," Leandra said, undoing her braids. "Is someone freaked out about living aristocratically?"

"Well, it's easy for you. You grew up like this!" Hawke said, not holding back on expressing her pain as her mother combed her hair.

"And then I didn't. This is just another change. A change in the right direction, don't you think?"

"I don't know. It's a bit much."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I have started us off in an apartment above Hightown Market?"

Where Carver probably would have moved. She missed him so much.

"Yeah, that would have helped. Also, if we never left after that."

"You're too much like your father."

"Thank… you?"

Leandra finished her braids. "It's alright, you know. It's a big change. Take all the time you need."

Hawke looked into a small rusty mirror and messed up the top of her hair.

"You always do that," Leandra said disapprovingly.

"Look good? Yeah, I think so," Hawke said, smirking, hands on her hips.

Leandra shook her head. "Too much like your father."

"Aren't you happy I'm keeping his spirit alive?"

"I'm elated with the fact, but the fact is his spirit sometimes made me want to slap him so hard he flew across the room. And that," Leandra said confidently, pointing at her, "is the advantage of a mansion hall."

"Wait, so what, he used to come here?"

"Well, where do you think we could—" Leandra stopped herself and shrugged innocently.

"Oh!" Hawke shouted aggressively, covering her mother's figure with her hand.

"In fact, this cupboard is one of the places he used to hide in. Maybe you were drawn to it?"

"Wow…" Hawke sat back down next to her. So, it wasn't just about the Amell name and childhood nostalgia. It was the house where the single greatest love of her life started. Where the Hawke timeline all began. "Yeah, it did make me feel peaceful. Where else did he hang out?"

"Well, my room—"

"Da-da-dah—"

"And the basement, sweetheart."

"Oh. I did not feel peaceful in there, but then again there were slavers at the time. Fenris felt mighty peaceful after we killed them, though!"

"Ah, what an odd and polite boy, that one. You know he installed a lot of the furniture."

Hawke sprung up, alert and afraid. "You didn't let him read my diary, did you?"

"Why?" Leandra said, smirking. "Would he have read something pleasant?"

"No," Hawke lied. "Well… knowing him… probably not."

Leandra sniggered, shaking her head. "Well, you might want to get used to your room, sweetheart. This is a lousy place to… hang out."

She forgot how perceptive and motivating her mother could be.

"But be careful now! I know the chances between different races are slimmer, but still—"

"Oh!" Hawke shouted aggressively again and showed her palm. "Please stop talking about sex!"

"Cooking, then," Leandra pushed innocently. "You know he cooks, right?"

Hawke's chin disappeared into her neck. "That nightmare on long legs can cook?"

"And it comes out like a dream…" Leandra said proudly.

She frowned. "Did you teach him?"

"Well, someone needs to take on my secrets, and you can't even spell bouillabaisse."

Hawke simply giggled at the funny word.

Morning, Hightown Market

Her mother took her shopping. It went about as well as one expected. Leandra pushed on her all manner of unnecessarily extravagant body curtains and-and… platformless shoes, while Hawke dodged all of them like spears. She was all for the bonding experience, as long as there was no direct skin contact with flowery satins and pink frillies and whatnot. She wasn't butch, per se, but she wasn't very femme either. A skirt was alright once in a while, and make-up was fine. She'd correct her eyebrows and wear an earthy lip colour. But she was allergic to the ultrafeminine mythos people regaled and pushed on her as if it was necessary or meaningful to her identity. Leandra agreed to stop as long as she put a lid on her critiques of sexist fashion.

She put on the striped turquoise and purple sweater no one seemed to want to buy, then bolted to Olaf's Armoury. She bought her first official non-shit breastplate. A small simple obsidian one, and some short spiky gauntlets and boot plates to match.

"Don't you want to engrave it, dear?" Leandra said, catching her shoulder.

"Engraving's extra," Olaf said.

"No, no," Hawke said. "What would I engrave on it, anyway?"

"How about the Amell heraldry?" Leandra offered with a smile.

"That would take forever," Hawke said, rolling her eyes.

Leandra petted her head, and patiently inhaled her hurt. "Alright… small steps, love."

"Why, what a great surprise running into you!" Varric said behind them. His best bud, Fenris, was with him. "Shopping, are we?"

"No, I've been shopping," Leandra said with a condescending chuckle. "She's mostly been complaining."

"Oh, Maker, you're being a spoiled brat about not becoming a spoiled brat, aren't you?" Varric said, laughing.

Hawke blew air up her bangs. "The day has barely started and I'm already exhausted."

"New armour, I see," Fenris said.

"But no engraving?" Varric added.

"Don't get me started," Leandra said, rolling her eyes.

Varric cackled lowly.

"Will you be alright carrying this stuff by yourself?" Hawke asked her mother.

"Alright, now who's being micro-aggressive?" Leandra said with high, tired eyebrows.

"I didn't mean that because you're a woman. I'm just being mindful of your age."

Varric and Fenris tensed up, doubled their eyes, and couldn't look away.

Leandra scoffed. "You know what that is?" she said, and poked her lousy new breastplate. "That's ageism."

Hawke's mouth made a perfect circle.

"I suggest you re-evaluate your prejudices, young lady," Leandra said with a masterfully passive-aggressive smirk. "Toodles!" she told the others, and left.

"Burn, baby, burn!" Varric said, very entertained.

"Tsk, tsk," Fenris said, crossing his arms.

"Don't you have a date to get to?" Hawke said meanly.

"Now, now, you should be more respectful of your elders, young lady," Varric said with a scolding finger.

"Okay, grandpa," Hawke said.

"Don't you think twenty-five punishments is enough? Would you like more?" Varric threatened.

"No, sir," Hawke said quickly.

"No, serah," Varric corrected. "You're a Kirkwaller now."

"No… serah…"

"Why don't you have your breastplate engraved?"

"I don't need some fancy sign. I'm not a walking advertisement."

"But you are. You're ruining your brand, Pantaloons."

She scoffed. "What brand?"

"Long lost noble bastard. You gotta put it out there."

"Hah, no."

"Rags to riches refugee, then. Come on, you gotta be an inspiration!"

"I think the obsidian speaks for itself."

"What about Fereldan clown mage?" Fenris butted in with a vain look on his face.

Now… let's get one thing straight. Hawke had no problem being called a clown. It was an entirely accurate statement. But the fact that he had to point out EVERY. SINGLE. TIME that she was a mage infuriating her to no end. And the way he pronounced it was so condescending. He took something cute and banter-y and yellow like 'clown' and put it in a bowl and then punched the egg yolks with red-hot piping anger into this weird, orange, chameleonic bitchiness.

"Ah, why bother?" Hawke said in a fake friendly tone. "Nothing can beat your brand, Tevinter Scarecrow!"

Varric laughed and then… his eyes flickered. "The Labours of Pantaloons… have begun."

"Oh, boy, I can't wait!" Hawke said sarcastically, tapping her foot.

Varric took both Hubert and Olaf by the side. Hawke looked at them in terror. In the meantime, Fenris kept her company.

"Sleeping better now?"

"I slept in a cupboard."

Fenris kept a straight face. "Why…?"

"It's kinda spooky up there."

Fenris frowned, closed his eyes, and looked like he was trying to translate the unabridged version of Carmenum di Amatus. "You've bested a dragon and an ancient demon and you're… spooked?"

"Well, yeah, it's all big and old and echoey. Were you not spooked when you moved in the mansion?"

Fenris shrugged. "It's not my first mansion."

"Aaah, of course," Hawke said, crossing her arms. "You were a fancy slave."

"I was still a slave," Fenris said, looking unhappy.

"Did you sleep in a cupboard?"

"Yes, if you must know."

And the prize for the most insensitive class whiner goes to…

"Right," Hawke said, tail between her legs. "Sorry… I'm being a dick."

"At least you see it," Fenris said coldly.

"I don't know. I've never lived in a mansion before. I've never lived in anything better than a wooden shack."

"You should hold onto that. It will keep you humble."

"Thank you!" Hawke said, both relieved and annoyed. "Everyone else seems to be waiting on me to spring fucking peacock wings!"

"Oh, you'll be springing your wings, my little peacock!" Varric said smugly, coming back to them. "In three to five hours."

Hawke swallowed her entire lips and inhaled as she crossed her hands pleadingly. "I'm sorry… what?"

Varric ignored her. "Have you seen Aveline yet?"

"Oh, uh… ye—"

Fenris scoffed. "No."

Hawke looked at him with thinly veiled contempt.

"Excellent," Varric said. "Let's get you to the Keep, then."

This was going to be a long day. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Hold on…" Varric said and whistled behind him towards the stairs. Merrill, Isabela and Anders came up.

Then Isabela became all kinds of whistles. "The prodigal daughter returns!" she shouted mockingly.

"I've got half a year's worth of complaints, boss!" Anders shouted over at her.

"Oh, no, not before I get a word in!" Merrill said, all fired up.

Hawke closed her eyes and hid behind a big cringe. If she could cringe with enough force, maybe she could teleport somewhere more pleasant.

"Did you think I was gonna do this without an audience?" Varric said, smirking evilly.

Late morning, The Keep

Almost at the grand doors, Hawke trailed off behind them and started sniffing people. There was bound to be an alcoholic here with a flask.

"Elf, get her!" Varric said.

Fenris caught up from behind and crossed his arms as Hawke tried to sneak in behind a noble and suck off the cigarillo between his fingers.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way," Fenris said in cold tones of threat.

The noble looked at her as if she was crazy. She smiled at him and sauntered towards Fenris. "Hard, please," she said, puffing the smoke in his face and leaving.

At the doors to the barracks, Varric stopped them. "Wait here," he said.

"Or we can just go," Hawke said awkwardly. "I'm already late to an appointment."

"I wonder what sort of appointment that is," Fenris said in his bitchy, passive-aggressive voice.

Hawke leaned on the wall. "Is there something you want, Fenris?" He started to seem like he had a problem, either with sex workers or with people who liked them, possibly.

"There has been something on my mind, yes."

"Please form your question carefully," she said, yawning. "The answer will still be 'Bite me'."

"Your sarcasm game is waning."

"It was a perfectly serious statement," she said, smirking with half-lidded eyes.

"No, it just seems that's where your tone of voice automatically goes, regardless," he mumbled, completely missing the point.

Isabela squinted at them and leaned in to whisper to the others. "Pantaloons has a crush on Happy Fists."

"Hah!" Anders said, supressing his laughter. "Happy Fists has a crush on Pantaloons."

"You sure?" Isabela said, squinting.

Anders scoffed and made his voice deep and whiny. "No, oh, she's fighting with the forces of the universe, and I like that in a woman."

Merrill broke into laughter. "You sound just like him!" she said, holding onto her knees. "Should we tell them?"

"Why would we? This is so entertaining," Isabela said, watching. "I bet you a sovereign they're gonna do it by the end of the month."

"Nah," Anders said, crossing his arms. "She's too much of a romantic. And his head is stuck in the Tevinter mage gutter."

"Romantic?" Isabela said, making a raspberry. "The screamy girl that grabs herself?"

"Oh, please," Anders said. "You should hear how she talks about the Hero of Ferelden. And that book on her belt isn't a spell book. It's some smutty romance novel."

Isabela cackled lowly. "You know, I met the Hero of Ferelden in Denerim. She made one huge slut into a romantic."

"You?" Anders said.

"Of course not. No one can make me into a romantic," Isabela said.

"Is she very pretty?" Merrill asked, excited.

"So pretty you want to die," Isabela said. "But it's not about that. It's the way she talked. Like she wanted to strip you and torture you into a confession."

"So, like Fenris?" Merrill said.

Anders guffawed. "No, he just wants to torture people."

Isabela shrugged. "It's a fine line. He may even cross it one day, if he ever hits puberty."

"Who's gonna cross what line?" Varric said behind them as he came up with Donnic.

"Get in here," Isabela whispered. "We're placing bets on when those two are gonna do it."

"Who?" Varric said, looking where they were looking. "Oh."

"Who?" Donnic said, confused.

"Redhead and whitehead," Isabela said.

"I say six months," Anders offered.

"Three months, tops," Isabela said.

"A year," Merrill said.

"I don't know these people," Donnic said.

"You guys are amateurs," Varric said. "Two years, at least."

"Oh, come on, two years is a long time," Isabela said. "A lot can happen."

They looked at Hawke and Fenris. He told her a joke about how he played flamenco with people's innards, and she laughed way too hard and wanted to touch his arm. She awkwardly danced her hand away on a wall so he wouldn't turn blue and play flamenco with her innards.

"Yeah, a lot of nothing," Varric said. They all sniggered between each other. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Shellshock Twins! We're going to the Gardens!"

"It's open this time?" Merrill said excitedly.

"It's open for us, right Donnic?" Varric said, tapping his back.

"Extremely temporarily," Donnic said. "Follow me."

It was a crime this place wasn't open for visitors. The inner courtyard was beaming with pink and white and yellow roses. Guards were stationed at each door, while up ahead it seemed like the whole Kirkwall City Watch was there, waiting on Captain Aveline to finish writing them slips at a makeshift desk.

"Oh, what were the chances?" Hawke said irately, hiding behind them all.

Varric cackled meanly and secretly fist-bumped Isabela. "Ready, Chuckles?"

"Does anyone have alcohol?" Hawke pleaded.

"No alcohol allowed," Donnic said.

"Right," Hawke said, and mouthed silently, "Does anyone have alcohol?"

Anders secretly gave her a little bottle. Was this his 'I can't take anymore of Fenris's crap' juice? Either way, she turned around, held her nose, and downed some of it.

"Oh, but, before you do…" Varric said, coming to her. "First punishment, Pantaloons. Go to that guard over there, pluck a rose out of the bush, give it to them, and say, 'I love you'."

Hawke looked desperately at Donnic. He smacked his lips and crossed his arms. "I'm actually curious what would happen."

"Thanks, you were a lot of help," she said sarcastically.

With eyes on her, Hawke held her hands at the back and made a few walking pirouettes before she sauntered towards the helmeted guard. She plucked out a yellow rose in full view, and came up to them. She held out the rose under their chin and awkwardly put her head on their shoulder. "I love you," she said softly.

"I'm gay, but thanks for playing," he said, putting the rose in her hair.

People laughed profusely, while Isabela crossed her arms. "Now why didn't he tell me that?"

"Maybe he had a bet with someone to see how long it took you to figure it out," Varric said.

"Hah!" Fenris guffawed. "Like that'd stop her."

"Ohhhhhh," Isabela said meanly. "You're gay."

With a hand on his chest, Fenris flung it in the air. "The gayest."

"Hey, look at you, playing along!" Varric said, smiling. "You get a cookie when this is over."

"There better be an actual cookie," Fenris said.

"Come on, Chuckles."

Hawke hesitated. "I don't want to."

"Nice try, but you won't trick me into making this a punishment. Go."

"But…"

"Go!" all of them said.

"Fine!"

Hawke swallowed and made her way through the guards. She cleared her throat so Aveline looked at her. The quill fell out of her hand.

"Heh… hey," Hawke drawled with a constipated smile.

"Hawke," Aveline said, inhaling. "At ease," she told the others. She came up from her seat and looked her in the eye. It was an activated eye. She raised her hands and Hawke cowered. But the Captain simply hugged her. The group condescendingly applauded.

But the applause came too soon, because Aveline proceeded to slap her so hard the flower in Hawke's hair flew up in the air and she fell into a rose bush.

The group applauded more strongly and Isabela whistled.

"I'm baaack…!" Hawke sang through the shrubbery.

"I assume since all the clowns are here, Carver is alright," Aveline said.

"Yep, yep," Hawke said, trying, and failing to get out of the bush. She fell back in.

Fenris laughed so hard everyone looked at him. He reassumed his poker face and cleared his throat.

"You stopped sending letters," Aveline said coldly.

"I got caught up in some anti-slavery pro-bono work," Hawke said, falling once again in the bush. "What is it with this fucking bush?!"

"It's you that's backwards," Aveline said, giving her a hand up. "Thank the Maker you're okay."

Hawke dusted herself off, leaves and flowers falling off her. "I wouldn't advise him to show up. It'd be really bad for his reputation."

"Thankfully, I do," Varric said smugly, coming to them.

"Varric… do you do anything?" Aveline said, squinting.

"Why, yes, I'm her god for the next twenty-four punishments," Varric said. "And you, milady, get to give her one."

Aveline had a surprised, wide grin. "Good," she said. "Let me finish giving out the rota and I'll join you."

"Why are you giving out the rota… here?" Hawke said awkwardly, watching Merrill squat all around them collecting the fallen flowers.

"Stink bomb," Aveline grumbled, and turned to her guardsmen. "And when I find out who's responsible, you'll be sorry!"

Isabela hid behind Anders and laughed inaudibly.

"Hey, why don't we all get one punishment each?" Merrill said, coming back up with a bouquet of stepped-on flowers.

"What a great idea," Anders said.

"I'm in! I'm in!" Isabela said with her hand up.

"I don't know…" Varric grumbled.

"Seems only fair," Fenris said.

"Alright, fine. One punishment each. But take your time. I've got plans for her today."

"Oh, yay, more plans!" Hawke said sarcastically.

"See you in a second, Captain." Varric whistled for Hawke. "Come now, you've got a form to complete."

"What form?"

"For your new name."

"I have a new name?"

"Yes. Morgana Pigfat."

"Varric…"

"That or Batista Asschabs. Take your pick."

"Curse you."

In the meantime, Donnic nodded shyly to Aveline. "Captain."

"Guardsman," Aveline said, and forgot she shouldn't bow to a subaltern.

Varric scoffed. "When do you bet those two are gonna do it?"

"A decade," Isabela said.

Noon, The Wounded Coast

It was a beautiful day… to see Hawke struggle. The sun was high above, the seagulls were following them, and the sand was getting into everyone's shoes if they had any. Some walked the beach, while others "sunbathed" and watched Hawke with her bangs all damp and up in the air, trying to catch fish with her bare hands. She also needed to wear a crown of flowers Merrill made her without dropping it during the task. The swearing continued.

"Ah, what a wonderful day," Varric said, drinking a cocktail.

"The best," Aveline said, clinking her cup into his.

"Agreed," Fenris said, sunbathing with his vest open. He still couldn't feel the sun, so he had to feel something. "What shall the next punishment be?"

"I'm juggling between making her cry and crawl like a baby or making her hug five different trees in public."

Fenris let his head fall back in a chuckle. "Both sound excellent."

"Hey, guys!" Isabela said from afar as she walked with Anders. "Where's Kitten?"

"She's not with you?" Varric said.

"Yeah, I hid her up my arse. No, she's not with me!" Isabela said.

"Alright, let's split up," Aveline said, standing up. "You go west, we'll cover east."

"But I'm sunbathing…" Varric said babyishly. He looked at Fenris.

"No," Fenris said flatly.

"But—"

"No."

"Ugh." Varric stood up. "And you wonder why people don't like you."

"I, in fact, could not care less."

Hawke was too busy screaming and keeping her flower crown from dropping to notice who went where. She almost had a fish ready to throw in the basket when it jolted and slapped its tail in her face. Fenris kept laughing at her, so she went to the shore and threw a boot at him.

He ducked his head. "I would say nice try, but… it wasn't."

Hawke wiped her forehead and looked around. "Where is everyone?"

"We lost Merrill… again."

"And you're here, because…?"

"Back to work, clown mage."

One of these times she was going to have enough of that.

"You know, I could use some help here," Hawke said meanly, turning around and bending over again, "if you're not too busy contemplating the depths of the absolute and of my behind."

Fenris scoffed. "Do I have a choice? It's in my sun."

But he stood up anyway, rolled up his trousers and came in the water.

"Ugh," he grunted, feeling sea creatures touch him.

"Thanks, I'm gonna take a break now," she said, making her way out of the water.

Fenris became unhappy and tripped her. She fell in the shallow water, and the flower crown got washed away.

"You monster!" Hawke shouted. "That was Merrill's crown!"

"It's not the crown I had it in for."

"Well, then go, go get it!"

And so, he did. He even put (what was left) of the flower crown on his head. When he came back, she was about to get up but another wave crashed into her.

Fenris laughed at her, until she stood up proper and his laugh became a titter and the crown fell off his head. His eyes fixated on… not her eyes. It was the best day to not wear a bra and get all wet. For the first time, he was staring like a troglodyte, and he didn't even see it.

She caught the flower crown and put it on her head. "My eyes are up here."

"Sorry…" Fenris said, looking at her, but his eyebrow started twitching and he looked down at the water.

"Are you… blushing?" Hawke said, tilting her head in amusement.

"I'm just hot," Fenris said.

"Aw, now don't believe what Isabela tells you. You're also smart and kind of funny."

He was very twitchy today. A corner of his mouth twitched.

He tried catching a fish, but its texture was so scaley and slimy it made his skin crawl and he dropped it.

She laughed at him and went in deeper, catching the fish one by one.

"So, you can catch fish?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow. "Was this all for show?"

"Well, yeah, it wouldn't be fun for you lot otherwise, would it?" Hawke said, throwing the fish in the basket.

"Then why require my help?"

"'Cause you hate fish. And you caught my bait, Fishy Fisherson."

Fenris glowered and grunted.

"Oh, Andraste, can you break up with Lady Negativity of Darkness Avenue just for one minute?" Hawke said, amused.

"How can I when she's so irresistible?" Fenris said, looking away.

Why he turned his head was anyone's guess. She saw herself more like a drunken unicorn than a smouldering vampire.

"Come on, now," Hawke said, widening her arms and closing her eyes. "Just do what I do. Just close your eyes and feel the sea breeze in your hair, hear the birds chirping around, and the nice water on your ankles and-and, just breathe…" She opened one eye sideways. "Are you doing it?"

"No."

"Just try. It won't kill you."

"Fine…" Fenris said, and copied her posture. It was way too difficult for a person with his history to enjoy a mindful moment, but he tried, because she asked. He felt he was doing all sorts of things he wouldn't do just because she asked. But for a moment, her cute annoying face in his mind morphed and dispersed and just became wet tree leaves and rustling wings and the spooky sound of the Seheron sea wind. It felt as nice as it felt ominous. "Is something supposed to happen to me? A divine vision, perhaps?"

That mystery was not going to be eluded, however. After Hawke took her sweet time taking in the vision of his bare chest, she pushed him and knocked him over in the water. He gave her one of his more intense death glares as he squirted water out of his mouth.

"I told you it wasn't going to kill you!" Hawke said.

Perhaps she felt too confident about that statement. Fenris got up angrily and came towards her. She started walking backwards.

"Get back here!" he said sourly.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Hawke said, her arms coming forward.

Fenris stopped in confusion.

She took the flower crown off her head, slowly, and gave it to him. Then she ran.

"Venhedis!" he growled, throwing the crown on the beach and running after her.

"Hasta la fasta vas, suckaaah!" she shouted.

She made a quick stop to slap a force wave of water in his face and then ran like hell.

After a few more chases and circles, Hawke caught a fish rapidly from the water and pointed it at him.

"En garde!" she shouted. "I have a fish in my hand and I'm not afraid to use it!" She laughed at her own joke, which didn't help things.

Fenris paced forward and slapped the fish out of Hawke's hand as if it were nothing. She backed away and ducked when he tried to grab her. He wasn't playful. He was aggressive. She kicked him in his shin and pushed him away. She took out her fists and beckoned at him to come at her. Fenris gathered himself and prepared his fists.

"Alright, no markings, no magic, no punching faces or private parts."

"You will go down either way, clown mage."

"Come at me, bitch!"

"What… the hell… is happening?" Varric said as they came back on top of the hill with Merrill, who was holding a little cat.

Aveline face-palmed herself.

"He's gonna kill her!" Anders shouted.

Isabela restrained him. "Are you crazy? That's a fair fist fight!"

"Oh, no, my flower crown!" Merrill cried.

They kept blocking each other's attacks. Fenris decided to fight a little dirty and pulled on her braid, so she blocked the hit to her exposed windpipe and kicked him in the ribcage. He blocked the next kick and slashed her naked ankle, which unsteadied her. He caught her arm and twisted it in a rear wrist lock, then went behind her and locked her other wrist to her back. "Don't ever do that again," he said in a deep voice, his mouth to her ear.

Hawke didn't give up. She had one good ankle. She bashed his foot, headbutted him, got out from the wrist lock and pulled on his open vest, then pulled on his arm, and kneed him in the liver. Oh, but it hurt bad. But she roared through the pain as she saw him become blue. She kicked him in the knees, and, as he fell on them, she slapped him away.

"Or what?!" she growled.

But as he fell to the ground, he tripped her bad leg and she fell on him. She took control and climbed on top. With the waves crushing into them, she wrist locked him and…

"Okay!..." Hawke said, feeling a hard-on under her. Fenris's eyes doubled as he realised she felt it. The markings turned off. She tilted her head and nodded patronisingly. "I think we both learned a lesson today."

"Get off me, you witch!" Fenris demanded.

"Hold on," Hawke said nonchalantly, waiting for the next wave to come on him. "There, there, my hateful incubus, a cold shower's what you need. Attaboy!"

Isabela fell on her butt laughing and she swore she was going to win the bet.

Afternoon, Hightown

Hawke had to hug various things in town like stairs, lampposts, bushes, notice boards and trash cans until at least three by-standers saw her. Then they made their way to a café to have lunch. Hawke was made to ask the barista if their sandwiches were made with cruelty-free dough, then was compelled to ask to meet the chef and ask her what was the difference between Kirkwall shrimp (a patriotic delicatessen) and 'real' shrimp. They were kicked out and had to go to a different café.

On the terrace, three pre-adolescent human girls made circles around Fenris and giggled to each other.

"What is happening?" Fenris said, tense and confused. He looked into a far-away window to check how his hair dried in the sea salt. It was… a little chaotic.

"What do you think?" Varric said, scoffing. The truth was, he was a little resentful. Making Fenris his side-kick was a perfectly enterprising idea, except for the fact the elf's looks took eyes away from his own sensitive lumberjack brand of masculinity and he wasn't having it. He actually considered starting using eye cream. Thankfully, Fenris seemed to be both unaware and incapable of wielding his power.

"You've got fans," Isabela said, putting the tops of her hands under her chin.

Fenris looked at the girls and they turned away snickering and whispering to each other. His eyebrow reached the clouds. "I am more than twice their age."

"So?" Isabela said, making a raspberry. "Didn't you look at adult women when you were a kid?"

"I noticed… they existed," Fenris said.

"Oh, I did a lot of noticing back in my room," Hawke said, reminiscing. "It's what got me into drawing."

"Hehehe," Isabela said, fist-bumping her. "You're lucky, you know. I was already an adult when I wised up."

"Well, I was very confused and couldn't tell if I wanted them or wanted to be them, but then I saw this Chasind girl who'd sneak out to Lothering who had the most beautiful black hair I'd ever seen and… I definitely didn't want black hair."

"Do you mean… Morrigan, who saved Ferelden?" Isabela said, squinting. "'Cause then I totally understand."

"Well, she told me her name was Ekaterina," Hawke said. "But, yeah."

"Oh, my, did Ekaterina make you into a woman?" Isabela said sultrily, chin in her hand.

Hawke snorted and made a double-chin. "No. Total hetero."

"That makes me feel better," Isabela said, thinking.

They looked at the others. Aveline looked bored, Merrill was playing with the kitten, while the men were listening and staring intently like meercats.

"And then I oiled up the biggest, hairiest dude and fucked his arse!" Hawke said dramatically, finger-banging her sandwich.

They all changed their faces to disgusted.

"Oh, come on, you ruined it!" Varric whined.

"Yumm!" Hawke said, licking the barbecue sauce off her fingers. Isabela face-kissed the table laughing.

"And now I'm done eating," Fenris said, pushing his plate away.

The young girls walked past them again, a handkerchief falling off in the air. Fenris bent and caught it instinctively and held it out. He cleared his throat. "You lost this, children."

The girls turned with owlish eyes and pushed one of them out to get it. She looked like she was walking on a plank to take it off him, then she ran away as the other two giggled and shouted, "O-M-M!"

"I'm definitely done eating," Fenris said tiredly.

"What's… O-M-M?" Hawke said.

"Oh my Maker?" Varric said.

"Ah, I love kids," Hawke said, smiling after them. "I wish I was still one."

"You still are one," Fenris said meanly.

Hawke's eyebrows met in both amusement and disgust. She tilted her head intently at him, so he'd understand what he just said. It took him a second to process, and he nearly pushed his plate off the table. He stopped it from falling awkwardly and cleared his throat. The kitten came off Anders's lap and ate the fallen leftovers.

"Maker, can you imagine if one of us had a kid?" Anders said, coming up to get the kitten. "I'm not sure if I'm thankful or resentful for my taint."

"Go with thankful. We don't need more mages," Fenris said.

Hawke, Anders and Merrill eyed him like daggers, while Varric, Aveline and Isabela shared secret looks of tiredness.

"Relax, imp. The Circle polices our every aspect of life, including who we bang, if we even get to," Anders said grumpily, sitting back down.

"You're not in the Circle, are you?" Fenris said.

"I'm sorry, Fenris," Hawke said with a very cold, sweet tone, intertwining her hands. "Are you saying you have an opinion on what I do with my own body?"

A tense silence filled the table. He hesitated.

"No," Fenris said, fidgeting with a knife. "I am not saying that."

"Really?" Hawke said, looking at the others and crossing her arms. "'Cause it sounded like you were saying I shouldn't have a family because my blood's not any 'good'."

Fenris almost stabbed the table, but Varric helpfully gave him a spoon. It was all very deja-vu.

"If anything, you should probably have a litter. Most Hawke's seem to be unkillable," Fenris said.

"Aww!" Hawke said dramatically with a hand on her heart as she looked at the others. "He warms my heart, you guys. I'm allowed to reproduce because I'm special!"

"Of course, us ordinary mortals can only dream of such privilege," Anders said sardonically.

"Would you like me to repeat my speech to you back at the ball?" Fenris said sourly.

"What speech?" Hawke said.

Anders rolled his eyes. "He thinks if mages are all free in the absence of systemic social safety nets for non-mages, they'd just infect royal bloodlines and overtake the workforce until it just becomes Tevinter."

Hawke hesitated and thought about it in silence. "Well… he has a point."

"Does he?" Anders said, contained and unimpressed.

"Well yeah, then non-mages would just be classed as disabled, right?" Hawke said. "That's why I'm all in favour for taking down all this oligarchy bullshit."

Fenris sat back with a pleased grin.

"But that is neither here nor there," Hawke said. "We're just talking simple apostate family life here, and the Reverse Poltergeist of Minrathous over here is basically advocating for eugenics."

Isabela, Varric and Anders sniggered.

"I'm not advocating for eugenics. I'm just saying some mages shouldn't reproduce," Fenris said in annoyance.

"A lot of people shouldn't reproduce. Some at this very table," Hawke said passive-aggressively.

"I thought you said our differences were not 'irreconcilable'?" Fenris said. He just had to make air-quotes.

"Not if you're talking hateful shit left, right and centre."

"You are so overreactive. It's not like I'm calling out 'Death To All Mages!'"

Hawke scoffed. "Are you for real? Is this guy for real?"

"Now kiss!" Isabela said, standing up and pretending to make them do it.

"Ew!" Hawke said, grimacing.

"'Ew?'" Fenris said, hurt.

"OMM! OMM! You guys!" Hawke said to them in the voice of a thirteen-year-old girl as she held on her cheeks. "I have the nicest boyfriend, I don't even! I don't mean to brag, you guys, but—He… he thinks I have the right to exist!" She put a hand over her mouth and squealed in excitement. "And like, he's only overtly magephobic maybe once or twice a day… I mean, my other boyfriends, they were magephobic like… every other sentence!" She hugged herself in exhilaration. "I've been manifesting this for soooooo long, you guys!"

Nobody was winning this bet, they thought.