Tim lazy again : I swear to you, I SWEAR TO YOU – I laughed for a good 2 minutes very loudly at your review. You're absolutely right – may I use that line for Varric to say someday when he's gonna make fun of them? You know, like when they're together and Varric's reminiscing at how ridiculous they were.

Cheers to everyone who reviewed my last chapter! Thank you so much - you made me quicken my pace with this chapter. Enjoy! Spit on me! Bye!

What a sunny afternoon… The Vimmark Mountains were just the best. The draught, the heat, the endless shrubbery and rocky scenery. Even if Antiva was hotter than the Free Marches, at least it rained almost every day. Even in her years in Kirkwall, Hawke wasn't used to such heat and her face would turn into a carrot under too much exposure to the sun. Fortunately, the carriage was covered.

So there they sat, Armand and Dorian in the driver's seat, Armand staying silent and grumpy, minding his own business and Dorian but being prodded every minute by Isabela, talking about the Blooming Rose's finest clientele, Varric and Fenris playing some weird guessing game and Hawke being bored to bits and fanning herself with a book.

"So how come you're going to Antiva, Dory?" Hawke shouted from inside the cart.

"Classified information, my dear firebird," the elf shouted back.

Seems like all the elves present were keeping classified information away from her today.

"Have you ever been to Antiva before?" the cut-throat elf surprisingly said his first words in hours.

"No," Hawke shouted back. "It's all virgin territory for me."

"You're not a virgin, though, are you, Hawke?" Dorian shouted back and Hawke reddened furiously, since everybody was now looking at her.

"That's classified information, dollface," Hawke retorted, using his own weapon against him.

"It's only a matter of time before we find out," Isabela said with a grin. "The truth is beautiful and it likes to come out."

"That works for universal truths, not for my own private business," Hawke said defensively.

"Seems with both sets of genitals you don't really have any private business," the Antivan cut-throat elf said.

"Well wouldn't you like to know," Hawke said in annoyance.

"I don't," the Antivan retorted flatly.

"Then we're on the same page," Hawke said angrily. "What are you two whispering about?" she asked Varric and Fenris with a homicidal look.

"Classified information," Varric said sweetly. "Seems like a reasonable and recurring theme today."

"You don't say," Hawke answered grumpily.

"So how come you're going to Antiva if you said you gave up your heritage?" Isabela prodded Armand.

"Let me guess, it's classified information," Hawke said grumpily.

"This no secret," the Antivan said sharply. "I have a friend who needs help. I'm going to help him."

"That's remarkably vague," Hawke said calmly.

"Is there a point to know more?" the Antivan asked grumpily.

"I should know more about you, yes," Hawke pressed. "After all we're going to be stuck with each other for a while."

"Yes and it was a remarkable coincidence. I needed to go to Antiva, you were in need of a ride," Armand said flatly. "I am not your servant and this is not a joy ride. There is no point to it."

"You're hasty with your preconceptions, sir," Hawke said in annoyance. "But I'm not going to prod you if you say there's no purpose in it."

"Well I find a purpose in it," Isabela said. "Speak, Amadeo."

"My name is Armand, not Amadeo," the Antivan said sharply. "Nature gave you ears for a reason. Use them wisely before opening your mouth."

"I'm more effective with my mouth than my ears, sue me," Isabela said angrily. "Now speak."

"And yet again, I refuse. What now?" the Antivan said acerbically.

"I'll just have to get it out of you through other methods," Isabela said cunningly. "Like later in my tent."

"Do not bother, woman," the elf said nonchalantly. "You are nothing if not abhorrent."

"Ouch," Varric said awkwardly.

"Straight to the point," Isabela grinned. "I like that in a man."

"Prodding and cocky," Armand said sardonically. "I do not like that in a woman."

"You should be more like me, Izzy," Hawke said with a smile. "Keep to your business and read something interesting. Like this," she gave her a book called "War and Peace" by a Fereldan scholar.

"That's more boring than our Antivan friend here," Isabela sighed in desperation.

"There's nothing like the feeling of staying by the fireplace with a copy of War and Peace," Hawke said cockily. "You know a big fat book like that will feed a fire for two hours."

Everyone chuckled at her joke and she caught Fenris's warm smile for a second before he completely cut it out. She sighed and looked away, thinking just how difficult this trip would be if she had to sit just a few inches away from him for two weeks.

Nighttime, First Camp

Somewhere east of Wildervale near a great forrest, in a giant and ghostly meadow, they stopped and set camp. It seemed as though Hawke and Armand were the leaders of this group, discussing the guarding hours and the cooking and assigning the posts. Armand went with Dorian, though this dynamic duo seemed extremely strange, for the Antivan was an austere and mean piece of work and the whore was particularly charming, talkative and cocksure. Perhaps it was just out of familiarity. Varric was paired with Fenris and that left Hawke and Isabela to stay watch when their turn came.

Sitting by the fire, most of them were enjoying the stake Armand made from scratch. Hawke examined him closely - he seemed broken by time, hardened, despite his beautiful child-like figure. He had tattoos all over his body and he kept a tail from the upper half of his hair. He had two earrings in one lobe and none in the other. For some reason, she wasn't scared of him very much, just like she wasn't scared of Fenris when they first met. She felt his potential for danger, but that was about it.

Apart from having – at least apparently – no sense of humor and keeping much too quiet and austere, the lad was very good at what he was doing and he didn't seem to act on a lot of prejudice even if he wasn't surrounded by the best examples of the human race. Isabela certainly wasn't a worthy ambassador.

From left to right, there was Hawke, Isabela, Varric, Fenris, Armand and then Dorian enclosing the circle next to her. Things were particularly tense and she tried not to look at Fenris as much as he tried to do the same.

"I don't get it though," Isabela said to Dorian. "Is Serendipity a guy who tries to be a girl, or just a girl with an incredibly deep voice?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself? You've certainly haunted the Rose more than any ghost possibly could."

"Some things even I don't have the balls to try," Isabela answered with a sigh.

"How incredibly uncharacteristic of you," Fenris said with an intended sarcastic tone.

"Like you're any better, watching H-"

"There's a spider in my jacket!" Varric shouted, obviously causing a scene to interrupt Isabela's next sentence. "Gosh that blighted nug licker's fast."

"If it reaches your chest hair, the poor bastard's lost in a purgatory of no return," Hawke said in amusement.

"Purgatories are usually less chatty," Armand muttered sharply.

"Well someone's gotta step up and do the talking in order to compensate for your one-sentence-per-hour routine," Varric retorted charmingly. "And I thought Broody was the quiet one."

"Who is Broody?" Armand asked nonchalantly.

"This lovely bowl of honey next to me," Varric said sarcastically.

"Seems more like a deaf box of screaming to me," Armand said perceptively, but seeming particularly unimpressed.

"I'm not an elf expert, sorry," Varric said in annoyance.

"Oh, any resemblance between Fenris and the elven race is purely coincidental," Hawke intervened in amusement.

"As is the case with most elves," Armand retorted flatly through his half-closed eyelids.

"Crack a smile Armand, this subject is getting depressing. I'm an elf so I get a say in this," Dorian said sweetly. The brunette blue-eyed elf seemed to them very child-like and innocent. If it weren't for some of his perverse remarks, nobody would suspect that he worked in a brothel.

"As you wish," Armand said nonchalantly, poking the fire.

Hawke frowned at the sight. It seemed like this elf wouldn't listen to requests, much less take orders from anyone. His quickness in granting Dory's wish was incredibly strange and she didn't remember him mentioning having an Antivan friend outside the Rose, but she decided to let it go for now.

"Speaking of which, I think we should go through the Green Dales instead of going west along the shore. It's much less mountainous and draugthy," Hawke proposed eagerly.

"I disagree," Fenris intervened. "Dalish inhabited lands are very dangerous, as rainy and flat as they might be."

"What are they gonna do? Kill three of their own on the road? Do Isabela and I look like slavers or something?" Hawke asked with a frown.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Fenris said angry-but-calmly.

"Isn't that a terribly empty feeling – you know, the one in your skull?" Hawke retorted meanly.

"Fine, be that way," Fenris said in a supressed tone. "If ignorance is bliss, you must be the happiest person alive, Hawke."

"Ignorant?" Hawke asked in outrage. "I've travelled through such lands alone enough to know what I'm talking about."

"And I longer than you," Fenris retorted angrily.

"I'm sorry, is this a competition?" Hawke asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, but if it were, you would be losing," Fenris said with a smirk.

"Well, I could agree with you, but then we'd both be wrong," Hawke said firmly.

"We're going through The Weyrs; more mountainous, but less inhabited," Armand intervened commandingly.

"Now there's someone with reason," Fenris said and looked at her with a smirk. "You should listen to him. You might learn a thing or two about the real world."

"He's reasonable, you're just being cocky," Hawke retaliated with a scowl.

"Our 'mensies' may not be syncing, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that someone is on it right now," Fenris said in annoyance.

"Seriously? You're blaming the period for this? What happened to clown m-… monster, troll, reckless, crazy, completely deranged and such?"

"Finding another reason just adds to the charm," Fenris said arrogantly.

Hawke frowned. "Is your ass jealous of the load of crap that's just come out of your mouth? Oh wait, you don't have an ass. You just are one."

"And so it begins… I just can't get-" Isabela said and sighed.

"No, no," Fenris interrupted. "Let her speak her mind. She will be ultimately speechless."

"Wooh, I'm so impressed," Hawke said sarcastically. "You act like arrogance is a virtue."

"I've learned from the best," Fenris retorted nonchalantly.

"Maybe you should learn to change your face too. It's particularly revolting," Hawke said angrily.

Fenris smiled. "I couldn't do that to you, Hawke. You would feel left out."

"At least I know how to move the muscles of my face," Hawke said while narrowing her eyes.

"Don't be sad, don't be blue, the Old God Dumat was ugly too," Fenris said mockingly.

"Oh shock me some more with those poetics. That's what a girl likes to hear," Hawke said sarcastically and crossed her arms.

"How about we shock each other with a moment of silence for the fallen?" Varric intervened sarcastically.

"I strongly approve," Armand said grumpily.

"All in favour?" Varric asked and raised his hand. Everybody raised their hands except for the two angry lovebirds. "Alright, let's join hands and close our eyes… No? Just me? Alright, let's just stay silent for a minute then."

Nighttime, After everyone went to sleep

"Hawke, I have to say this since nobody has the balls to," Isabela said as they kept watch. "You're being a bitch."

"Tell me something I don't know," Hawke said unperturbed.

"That you're being bitchy to Feny for the sole purpose of deflecting from something else," Isabela pressed bluntly.

Hawke remained unimpressed with mockingly lifted eyebrows. "Shock me some more with your incredible perception."

Isabela sighed. "Truth or dare."

"You think me that stupid?" Hawke asked in annoyance.

"Humor me, we've got a good half of this night to do nothing," Isabela pressed.

Hawke sighed in annoyance. "Fine, dare."

"I dare you to answer honestly-"

"That's cheating."

Isabela laughed. "I always cheat. Which makes it allowable."

"I'm not going to hear the end of it, am I?" Hawke asked perceptively. "Fine, ask your question."

Isabela grinned. "Have you ever been in love?"

"You're killing me," Hawke said and looked down. "Could you ask a stupider question?"

"I'm asking the question. You'll get your turn," Isabela said firmly. "Now answer honestly."

"Well since it's truth or dare, how can I not," Hawke said sarcastically.

"I've got all night," Isabela said nonchalantly.

Hawke sighed and looked up, deep in thought for a while. Finally she looked away while placing her elbows on her lifted knees. "Once," she said and kept eyeing the trees. "It didn't end well."

"See, now we're getting somewhere," Isabela said with an approving smile. "Is that the reason that you're being such a bitch now?"

"How the what… I don't see the connection here," Hawke said while shaking her head.

"You're having that particular, mind you, annoying feeling again and you want to push it back where it belongs and somehow make it disappear?"

Hawke sighed and looked away, grasping her hand with the other. "It's not the same."

"Well then how is it?" Isabela asked in confusion.

"It's-," Hawke growled. "It's just not the same, alright?" Hawke said in annoyance and kept looking in different directions.

"It's like talking to a man." Isabela sighed and shook her head. "Look, I know you're a mage and a warrior and you lost a lot of people, but you've grown up in a warm family and you're also a woman – and that means you have an easier time to understand whatever it is that you're feeling."

"You didn't grow up in a loving home, yet you seem to be more in touch with your mushy gushy feelings," Hawke said mockingly.

Isabela laughed. "My time for having mushy gushy feelings has long passed."

"Well, mine is too," Hawke said and looked down.

Isabela sighed. "I might not be a fan of romance, but, regardless – don't you think you owe it to him and to yourself, to resolve this issue? It won't go away, I promise. It's the ultimate bitch of life."

"Right – slavery, torture, discrimination, imprisonment, starvation and being in love is the ultimate bitch of life," Hawke said grumpily.

"Cruelty and denial of and to anything, either to outside people and things or to yourself – that's the bitch of life. Add love to the equation – it really won't go away."

"And what would you have me do?" Hawke asked angrily. "March in his tent and tell him what? That I want him around? That I'm afraid he's going to leave? That anytime in-between those mushy gushy feelings, if he caught on fire and I had a bucket of water, I'd drink it?"

Isabela smiled warmly. "Do whatever makes you happy, regardless of what that is. And stop being a bitch."

Hawke looked down and pressed her eyes shut. "I just- " she growled, "I can't go through this right now. Not tonight at least. I need to clear my head."

"Fine, we'll change the subject," Isabela said patiently. "I just wanted to help. I know I don't seem like such a good friend but, -"

"You're alright," Hawke interrupted her future potentially cheesy remark. "Don't sweat it too much."

"Fine," Isabela said with a smirk. "I get your drift. We're not very different, you and I. Well, I wouldn't go that far, but you get what I mean."

"I really don't," Hawke said with a crooked smile.

Nighttime, Second Camp

Somehow they were fortunate. Only four days had passed and they were almost reaching Ansburg. They set camp just as after crossed the great Minanter River. And such a grand river it was; its waters were storming and roaring forwards in the distance like a dignified tornado of hostility. Much like the atmosphere in their little group.

Varric, Isabela and Dorian started playing Wicked Grace by the "cool kids" fire pit, while the cut-throat Antivan elf and Fenris were trying not to burn the rabbits they caught at the "grumpy kids" fire pit.

"No, you don't want to do that," Armand said in his sharp Antivan accent. "Give me the hare." He skinned the rabbit with his bare hands, instead of how Fenris tried with a knife. "If you don't skin it with your hands fur will still remain and they might have diseases." He gestured towards the other dead rabbit. "Now you try."

Fenris did as he asked and after he skinned the little beast, he turned his head away to watch Hawke pace in a rush towards the forrest. As he did so he cut himself with the knife he recklessly let hanging on his leg. "Vishatta avada khar."

"Res ipsa loquitur," Armand said with a smirk. (*The thing speaks for itself)

Fenris frowned and widened his eyes, "You speak Tevene?"

"Sic est," Armand said bitterly. (*So it is) "You probably wonder how."

"The thing speaks for itself," Fenris said flatly. "There is no need to explain that you were a slave."

"Yes, like always attracts like," Armand said sharply, while working on the rabbits. "You have that capital accent about you, do you not?"

"Sadly, yes," Fenris said calmly. "And you have the Anderfelian-infused accent of Vol Dorma, am I wrong?"

"Not far wrong," Armand said without looking at him, seeming very focused and nonchalant. His bare arms were sculptured with muscles and ink tattoos. "But I stayed in many places. My tongue has become a raging oatmeal of accents."

"You escaped just to wonder the Imperium?" Fenris asked in confusion with a disapproving frown.

"Sadly, no," Armand said nonchalantly, poking the fire. "I was simply sold from one master to another."

"May I ask why?" Fenris asked patiently.

"You may not," Armand retorted flatly. "Unless I can invoke a lex talionis of sorts." (*law of the talion, eye for an eye)

Fenris didn't want to talk about his past in the Imperium, but his curiosity was peeking incredibly high. This was the first time he met an escaped slave who was clearly a warrior and no simple, ordinary slave.

"Very well," Fenris said knightly. "I served under a –"

"No, not that," Armand said and shook his palm in disgust. "I don't give a spitting copper for your past. What would that accomplish?" Armand finally looked at him. "Exchanging sob stories to fill the time. I don't think you're that eager to share."

"I'm not," Fenris said while frowning. "But you invoked the law of the talion."

Armand didn't look at him anymore. It was interesting to see such a dark and sharp elf minding his business and talking about such an uncomfortable subject without so much as a look at his interlocutor. Fenris wondered if he appeared like that to the others, as if he was looking through a mirror.

"Yes, but that means I ask you something and then you can prod me of my life," the Antivan retorted with ease.

"Proceed then," Fenris nodded calmly.

"The thing speaks for itself, as I said," Armand pressed while keeping his eyes on the fire. "You want the redheaded human."

Fenris frowned to no end. "I feel like there should be a question in there, yet I can't seem to find it."

Armand smirked only shortly without looking at him. "Have you done something about it then?" he asked like a true nonchalant general.

"That is arguable," Fenris replied while raising an eyebrow.

"That is arguable," Armand repeated almost mockingly. "Did you or didn't you? It's as simple as the moon and the stars."

"I don't see how this is your concern," Fenris said defensively, being confused to no end that such a cut-throat elf would even care about such things and from all the question he could ask him, he chose to prod him of women problems.

His Antivan accent stung like spears, "It's not your concern why this is my concern. Humor me."

Fenris rolled his eyes and sighed, then looked into the fire. He pressed his eyes at how ridiculous the words sounded in his head, and now even more ridiculous as he let them out, "We kissed and never talked about it."

For the first time ever, Armand laughed. "Bad."

"You don't say," Fenris said sarcastically while shaking his head.

"You think you did something wrong?" Armand asked perceptively.

"Not exactly," Fenris replied. "Regardless, I don't know what to do at the moment."

Armand looked at him shortly. "That depends. Do you want to bed her or is it more than that?"

Fenris swallowed heavily. This was the manliest, most private and cut-throat person he met in a long time and suddenly he was being inquired by this man about matters of the heart. It was simply, utterly ridiculous. But no one was around to hear him and he took the chance and decided to curse at himself later.

Fenris placed an elbow on his lifted knee, "It's more than that," he said nonchalantly.

Again, the elf's Antivan and Tevinter-infused deep accent stung him. "And you decided to sit and mope like a little bitch."

"I'm sorry, are you some kind of strange hopeless romantic?" Fenris asked defensively. "I see no point in this."

"I do," the Antivan retorted. "I learned a thing or two when I got free. Like, not be a little bitch."

"You're dwelling in dangerous and ultimately pointless territory," Fenris deflected, pertaining to matters of the heart. What did slaves have to win from wasting their time with love.

Armand sighed and seemed even more intimidating now. His face was very child-like and sharp, apart from his giant scar across it, but his deep voice and his way of speaking, his way of looking at things, gave him an aura of wisdom and fierce maturity Fenris didn't see in himself, even if others did. "Little bitches are difficult. Maybe I should give you a kick by using my tale as a starter. I was born in Antiva and was sold to the Crows. After I had a few disagreements, let's say, with them, I was sold to the Imperium. Little did I know however, that I started to be sold from one master to another, as a spy and undercover assassin. I escaped with little help, but anyway, somehow I worked both for the Crows and for every other master that made use of my services. I worked for all these enemies. But I was a slave. Nothing more."

Fenris widened his eyes in amazement. This man's life must have been even worse than his, if one overlooked the horrific magic ritual he had to suffer.

"Close that mouth before the flies go in," Armand said sharply. "You don't strike me as having been a trophy slave."

"In a way I was," Fenris said bitterly. "But it did not help."

"Nothing does, not even your master having affection for you," Armand replied without looking at him. "It is a bitch of life and it never goes away if you don't let it."

Fenris didn't answer. He was much too confused and baffled, to say the least.

Armand sighed. "My point is – I've been through enough in my years to know this is no life."

"What do you mean?" Fenris pressed.

"Being a slave with all the potential to escape and be a former slave with no clue how to function in a free world. You will cling to the life you once had, as horrible as it might have been, because it is familiar. But it is poison."

Fenris remained silent and listened to him, for he wasn't finished, "I think I was worse than you. But hasty judgements are criminal, I should not presume. Though the result is much the same – you squander and lose precious time trying to convince yourself that there is no life for you. And then it's too late."

"And that's what you're recommending? Throw myself in some fantasy life with romance, pudding and rainbows?" Fenris asked sarcastically.

Armand laughed again, surprisingly hoarsely, "Must it be so difficult? We are not meant to go through this alone. Loneliness is exactly what will kill us faster than it does ordinary men."

Fenris shook his head, "I'm having a hard time understanding your view."

"You think too much, do you not?" Armand said sharply. "How about you give that little brain a pause – and do something that you enjoy. Like her."

"It's not that simple," Fenris retorted grumpily.

"Isn't it?" Armand said as he took the rabbits off the fire. "I think it is that simple. Unless you want it to be difficult, in which case – have at it, go on a limb and slit your own throat."

Fenris didn't answer. Armand smirked, "Don't listen to me. What do I know? I'm just a former slave. Freedom must be a terrible burden, no? Well, what do I know?"

Baffling. Revolting. He couldn't even –

Armand turned his head to him with sharp and piercing eyes. "It won't kill you, happiness. Thinking too much will. Get in the way and eventually kill you. That I promise."

Fenris pressed his lips and frowned. "And what would you have me do?"

"Go to her?" Armand said sardonically. "Do whatever you feel like doing to her?"

"She didn't talk about it. No matter how ambiguous things are, it is quite clear that she wants to be left alone on this matter."

Armand laughed. "Who is the man? Her or you? Women don't chase."

"She is no ordinary woman," Fenris said while shaking his head bitterly.

"I don't care if she has two sets of genitals or she is simply just a true warrior at heart, Little Bitch. Who initiated it, you or her?"

Fenris swallowed heavily. "I did."

"Then you have to go to her," Armand said commandingly, pointing with his knife at the forest. "Go."

Fenris frowned. "Now?"

"Now or never, little bitch," Armand said nonchalantly while cutting off the rabbits.

Fenris sighed and got up, but the Antivan's deep voice stopped his pace. "She is broken." He turned around to look the strange elf. "She needs more freedom than you do. Remember that."

He frowned. "What are you saying?"

"Acta non verba," Armand said grumpily. "Go." (*Deeds, not words)

Nighttime, Inside the Forrest

Bushes, shrubbery and more bushes. Bah. He was almost positive that he was lost. At one point it got so horrifyingly quiet and empty that even he felt uneasy and in danger.

Suddenly it started raining slowly through the high trees. Then heavily. This was no anomaly.

He kept tumbling through the bushes and walking forward, looking in different directions for the one red ponytail he used to mock with graceful arrogance. He stumbled upon a piece of a fallen branch and shrubbery and he fell right into his face on the moist grass. The rain kept pouring on him as he looked like a grumpy corpse that would never have the strength to get up.

But eventually he became angry and got up, following the path where the rain became heavier and stormier and finally, he found her strolling nonchalantly in a circle, whistling and not giving a damn that her rain made a tree fall on top of him just a few minutes ago.

"I knew somehow it would be you who almost got me killed," Fenris said angrily.

She didn't turn around to look at him. "Nobody told you to follow me, you know." She looked up and let the drops fall on her already soaking wet hair and face. He watched her with a furious scowl. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Apology not accepted," Fenris said angrily. "What are you even doing?"

Hawke chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? I'm making it rain?" She could feel him staying behind her with a disapproving headshake. "No? Too hard a concept to grasp?"

"I'm perfectly able to grasp the obvious at hand," Fenris said and crossed his arms. "What's a mystery is why you would do it here and now- bah." He shoved his arm at the air. "Of course I know. Because it's a secluded, dark place where almost nothing would come to harm and almost no one would come looking for you."

"I get your point," Hawke said calmly with her back still turned. "You're alive. You found me. You can go back now."

In that cold –yet refreshing – pouring rain, Fenris frowned, the water dripping from his hair and face, and said in a fast, mocking tone, "No."

"I'm asking you to go," Hawke said calmly.

Fenris started pointing even if her back was turned to him, "I promised your Mother that I woul-"

"Oh, don't put this on your sense of honour and on my Mother," Hawke interrupted him in a sharp tone. "We both know why you're here."

"Do we now?" Fenris asked mockingly. "Illuminate me," he stretched his arms. "I'm lost in wet and utter darkness at the moment."

Hawke chuckled with her back still turned and a light beam came out of her stretched hand, "Better?"

"Don't mock me," Fenris said angrily.

"I'm not," Hawke contradicted him softly, "Just mirroring your own deflections – mind you, in a more graceful way."

"So you do mean to mock me," Fenris pressed and crossed his arms.

"As far as I remember, what I meant was for you to leave," Hawke said in amusement.

"And I refuse, yet again," Fenris said in furious tone. "What now?"

"And I insist, yet again," Hawke retorted. "I can do this all night."

"So can I," Fenris persisted. "Just watch me."

"I'd rather not," Hawke said in amusement. "Much too busy concentrating here."

"You're deflecting, yet again," Fenris said perceptively.

Hawke chuckled. "So?"

Fenris threw his arms in the air. "Bah, you're impossible."

Hawke chuckled again. "I think that's a reasonable enough deal breaker, no?" She looked up again and closed her eyes to feel the rain. "So you can leave."

Fenris didn't answer, instead he watched her with incredible fury, seeming to implode at any second as the soft rain poured ever so nonchalantly across his face.

Hawke lifted her eyebrows in waiting for a response, but when she caught on his intentional silence she continued, "Or you can just stand there and loo-

A brute force turned her around, a brute force called Fenris, who eyed her with the most enraged look in history as he held her firmly by the arms, the spikes of his gauntlets almost ripping her sleeves. Hawke remained unaffected and mirrored the moves of his wondering eyes, catching them in her unyielding determination to remain a statue in silent protest.

This impossible woman, this frustrating good for nothing forsaken nightmare of a –

She caught him by the back of his neck in a second and slammed her lips into his, at which point – ignoring his deep surprise – enfolded her quickly in his arms and pressed her against him with all his strength, just a few attempts away from thoroughly crushing her. He brushed his gauntlets across her back from the havoc of his unhinged balance. She pressed passionately and he pressed just the same, this enrapturing pair of strong counterforces making them move in circles. He even forgot it was raining, but only realized it as she decisively caught his face in her hands and stopped them from moving. The water kept pouring and pouring tumultuously, which he felt on her soaking wet hair that was dripping rain on his cheek. Actually, the rain was starting to become very harsh now, as if it was increasing in intensity along with them. It felt maddeningly good for him to have his face caught in her hands and her lips, such diabolical fancy they were. So this was Hawke when she initiated things…The wild flame with which she pressed them onto his lips, demanding more of them with such fierce drive – was she the one who was drunk now? – and making him simply far beyond driven.

As lovely as the scene was for him, the far beyond driven part of the equation viciously possessed him. He was led to pull away from her lips and shove her into the crooked tree behind him, under a huge and very leafy branch which slowed the rain from pouring so heavily on them. He growled impatiently and smashed his lips into hers again, biting at them and forcing her mouth open. The crooked tree made it so that she was in a bit of a leaning backwards position, which led her to raise her knees and encage his hips. After he faintly leaned over her, he felt the cold rain like spears on his back as she brutally snapped the back of his vest open and thrust her nails into the safe, marking-free spots she already became to know without so much as a glance. He growled ferociously and breathed heavily in her mouth, at which point she pulled her wicked tongue away and started biting at his neck like wildfire. He couldn't, he couldn't for the love of – he thrust his gauntlet in the 'nice ass' she kept mocking and taunting him with, at which she interrupted her devil's work on his neck and pressed him tighter against her to gasp for air.

The tree suddenly bent backwards a few inches with a strong shake, but it didn't seem to be an interesting or alarm event for her. She resumed her flaming kiss to which he responded passionately without question. He couldn't control himself – he squeezed firmly where he was grabbing and run his gauntlet on her thighs and all the way to her knees, moving them in such a way that she was forced to enfold him with her legs. She caught his face in her hands again and brought him back to her lips with fierce command, forcing his mouth open and pushing her diabolical tongue in to meet his. With uncontrollable desire, he woke up ripping her shirt at the back with his other hand and brushing the spikes against her skin, to which she didn't seem to react at all negatively. She welcomed his barbaric actions and kissed him further ruthlessly.

As maddening as that was – and keenly noticing the rain becoming heavier and stormier with each passing second – something else enraptured him to such an extent that he couldn't stop giving out a hoarse and deep moan. She was moving her hips with a faint but decisive motion which pressed against his pants so viciously bad he felt the fiery mechanical need to push himself into her over and over again, which he did only once, but strong enough for her to stop her brutal kiss and gasp for air again.

And then the tree fell for good. Along with a few giant branches that he only now realized caught on fire beforehand. Fortunately for them, the branches formed a tent on them instead of outright killing them. They got up from the mess with pale faces, both their hearts beating like wild dogs in their chest. She breathed heavily and looked in different directions and he noticed the rain stopped when the tree collapsed. The flames also died in an instant.

They looked at each other in silence as they breathed heavily in shock, then Hawke pressed her eyes shut with a painful scowl. She stormed out of the place and disappeared into the neverending woods, without much courtesy for him, who was already positively lost in the forest as it is.

Back to Camp

Everyone was in their tents, except for Armand who was staying watch and Dorian who was somewhere father from the firepit and reading the big fat book that Hawke brought with her.

As he approached furiously, Armand looked at him with a sharp and unperturbed look. "Well?"

Fenris sat down by the fire in front of him and sighed bitterly, "We did it again without so much as a word."

Armand scared him with a sudden laugh, "Bad. Baaad."

"I told you it wasn't simple," Fenris said angrily. "Illa bei umo avada khar."

"Fac fortia et patere," Armand interrupted Fenris's curses.

"Do brave deeds and endure?" Fenris asked angrily. "This is not some honourable and noble cause a warrior fights, this is plain and ridiculous … well, ridiculousness," he muttered ineloquently.

Armand laughed again fiercely, "Factum fieri infectum non potest. It is impossible for a deed to be undone." He lifted his chip up and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You just have to stop being such a little bitch, little bitch."

"I wasn't the one who stormed off," Fenris growled angrily.

"You were the one who didn't catch her when she did," Armand retaliated sharply. "That's still little bitch in my book."

"And what would you have me do?" Fenris asked in frustration.

Armand looked away and gazed at the reading elf in the distance. "You have to press harder. I'm feeling for you, little bitch. I'll show you."

Fenris raised an eyebrow and looked in the direction Armand was looking, "I hope you mean it in the conversational way."

"Of course," Armand said in a sharp accent. "But not tonight, as much as I feel you want to keep watch with me and know all my secrets."

"Why shouldn't I?" Fenris asked grumpily.

"Because Dorian is my guard partner," Armand said flatly. "Go have your beautify sleep, little bitch. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

"I'm starting to grow tired of this idiotic pet name," Fenris said indignantly.

"It is not idiotic when it's the truth," Armand retorted with a decisive smirk. "Now go," he gestured with his pocket knife. "Come on, off you go."

Half an hour later

Fenris would not even think of it, as he sat in his tent. That impossible woman who didn't even have the courtesy to wait for him and find their way out of that place. She could have just stayed silent in her stupid defensiveness, instead of storming off like a – what Armand said. Bah.

Among the tumult in his intensely cursing thoughts, Fenris' ear flinched at a sharp, dinstinct sound of Armand laughing very differently than his scary, hoarse one. Who would he have to laugh at when he wasn't here? He stuck his eye between the curtains of his tent and once again, will wonders never cease.

He saw the emotionless, scary, cut-throat Armand staying by the fire with a hand over the other elf's shoulder and the other grasping his face as they shared a very warm kiss. So that's why he seemed so eager to prod him of matters of the heart and tried to help him. The Antivan's painful journey through the tempest of being a former slave had ended and he was in fact, accepting all the liberties and joys that came with his freedom – in the elf's throat. It was horrifying to see that rock-hard brutal elf sharing such a warm and… clearly not a first kiss with his fellow elf. No, it was obvious that this was old news. But still, baffling and terrifying, to see him be so … gentle and careful in his grip around his fragile lover. The two stopped and Armand brushed Dorian's black hair gently and brought it under his chin while gazing vigilantly in all directions for danger. Armand's tale was complete. Or at least, in a way of looking at it. He had to appreciate his blunt intent to help him in completing his own tale.

But no… this was too much. He would never see himself as being so free, looking so content. No, this was too much to process for one night. He wished there was a giant branch that could fall on him now and make him unconscious, for he couldn't sleep. Vishatta. Vishatta avada khar, nunc occide me (*kill me now).

Did I make you happy at least a little? Yes, I did :D Antiva here we come... Please review!