I'm SORRY for any attempted Italian names of streets or otherwise. I mean for its countrymen of course. I made Venice the inspiration for Antiva City, I'm sorry! - I couldn't help it, I went there once and was just enchanted. I don't want to offend.

Tim: You do that, please. But thanks for reviewing whenever in whatever manner. I thank you ever so much!

Secret Companion: I misspelled, I meant to say "in this manner". And to answer your review: It has to be a little depressing right now – come on, lighten up! This won't last for long… it would just be ridiculous. Hawke acts with Fenris in public as they always acted – snarky, playful and funny. And sometimes competing for who has the bigger cock. That they act differently when they're alone? Not really, I mean before, because they were alone they could speak calmly about serious things that didn't require much sarcasm. Now yeah – she's weird, but think of it this way : if Hawke initiated things, do you think Fenris would just swoop into her hands and live happily ever after? No. If she was all nice and open and go AESDF Ilvuyouuu he'd be the bitch deflecting and running more than her.

My Hawke has some issues and Fenris is deflecting from his own issues because she opposes resistance too. Which is healthy in my opinion – he wouldn't feel so much like a fucking nobody that doesn't deserve anything and shit. He actually is driven to go after her!

Ok I think I explained too much. Sorry. I just want to make things clearer if anybody didn't understand. And like I said, this is not going to last. Mind you, they're going to Antiva. How much secretiveness and anger can they hold on to?

Ah… everything will make sense… in a while. Np. Just cope with me. Enjoy the hotness and the humor I'm still not leaving out.

YOU KNOW I can make some very very sorrowful monologue about either of them and I'd make you cry like a , like a… What Armand said. YOU KNOW I CAN – but I won't. I love you guys and girls. In a very healthy, not at all creepy way.

Ok, writer's monologue is OFF. Enjoy my story, enjoy the cover photo cause I stayed a bit to redo Fenris's messy, now much more realistic hair. Don't like it? Hah-hah. Hah… Bah.

Once they reached the outskirts of Rialto, right along the shores, they took a break and sank the scenery in. It was… different. Breath-taking, hauntingly beautiful, very rainy – at least the last one Hawke viciously enjoyed and thanked the gods for.

"So, you and your kinsmen? Are you a… happy lot?" Hawke asked sarcastically, demanding of Armand to finally admit to his business.

He gave her a soft gentle laugh, which scared her to bits, "Oh, yes, my kinsmen; some of them have met with the most unfortunate end. Indeed, it is my understanding that the Grand Council of Antiva City believes they were murdered by those from whom they exacted much heavy payments. One should never linger in Antiva City with such evil designs, not even if you are a Crow. It gives you a certain immunity, but not to your own."

"Now you talk and laugh?" Hawke asked in amazement. "Wake me up, this is clearly a Tuesday."

Armand was feeling particularly chatty today, "But I am blameless. Members of the Grand Council have told many a Crow as much. And you would not think it but I am going to become richer on account of this."

"So this is your business in helping out a friend? You're going back to your mother country which lurks over you like a jealous husband waiting to kill you at their doorstep … to get richer."

"No, it's not the coin that I'm interested in," Armand said sharply. "I would do it much less for nothing. Friendship and honour I hold very dear to me."

"You're happy?" Hawke asked perceptively.

"You do know much about me without asking do you not?" Armand said flatly.

"Oh, you have no idea," Hawke said with a gracious smile. "So about that answer you were supposed to give me."

"I am a happier man," he said almost softly, looking at the beach and the horizon that spread golden beams of searing light, refracting into the rain and forming rainbows as the they went, "Indeed, I am someone altogether different, for I know a freedom now that was inconceivable before."

"You're lying by using the truth," Hawke hastened with her remark. She gave him a firm look as he looked at her unyieldingly with the back of his eye, "Be wholly truthful, for the sake of it."

Armand didn't flinch, but bit his lip and sighed, "You know."

"Of course I know," Hawke said in outrage. "I'm no fool. You're taking Dory away from me."

"As if he was ever yours," Armand said with a snort.

"Don't make haste with terrible preconceptions," Hawke said commandingly. "He's my friend. I'm sure you can relate to that, and more."

Armand was resting his elbows on the edge of the carriage while looking very annoyed and it was almost as if in all that calm and grumpiness, he would lash out at her at any second. "He deserves a better life. As his friend, you should let him go enjoy the chance."

Hawke smiled bitterly, "You have no idea – I mean, you do, but as a matter of speech, you have no idea how truly deserving he is to be happy and free of that brothel and Kirkwall altogether. Besides you, whenever that happened, I was his only delight once a week and I even struggled to spare some coin so I could see him, even if my back didn't ask for it urgently."

Armand inhaled deeply, "I know. He told me everything."

Hawke widened her eyes and her mouth opened faintly, but he continued, "Everything I needed to know, at least." She lifted her eyebrows in confusion and he sighed with a tilt to his head, "I get jealous," Armand confessed grumpily, scratching at his shoulder defensively.

She laughed softly, "That's terribly … well, it's not that surprising."

"I should not think otherwise," Armand agreed knightly. "You're a good woman, Hawke."

"It's purely coincidence," Hawke said sarcastically. "Honestly, I do things and then I come out looking quite the opposite of what I am."

Armand grimaced disapprovingly and shook his head faintly, "Don't give me that."

"Right, I forgot you have no sense of humor," Hawke said with a smirk.

"You just used the truth masked by an innocent jest," Armand retaliated perceptively. "You are too hard on yourself. It must be terribly exhausting."

"I try," Hawke said sarcastically. "I try and succeed, every time."

"Now that was pure sarcasm," Armand said with a short grin. Then he looked down and thought he owed a courtesy both to Dorian and to Fenris to take on this opportunity, "What of you and white hair boy?"

"What of us?" Hawke asked in confusion. "Don't tell me you placed a bet on us, too. You'll get even richer by the end of this trip with your obviously keen eye."

"You keep pushing away, it's exhausting even for me to watch," Armand said grumpily. "And I've been in your company just a week or so. Your friends there have been for years witnessing this child play."

"I have the great simplicity of a child," Hawke said proudly with a smile.

"And yet you don't use it when it's most useful," Armand retorted with his arms crossed. "I'm just curious how much it's going to take you before you implode."

"I get it," Hawke said perceptively. "You owe it to Dory to make one last amend for all the cruelty you've done under someone else's command, as a courtesy to a friend's friend. And then there's also the obvious fact that you were a slave and Fenris was a slave – and well, it all goes downhill from there…"

"So?" Armand asked nonchalantly. "Can't I help a lost soul out of sheer willingness?"

"You can and it's honourable," Hawke said approvingly.

"But you don't need much help, do you," Armand said with great perception. "No, why would you need any."

"Someone's being very psychoAnal today," Hawke said in amusement. "It's always like this with you strong and quiet men. Ask your question."

"What are you going to do?" Armand went straight to the point.

"I'll make peace with my business here and then I'll sort the other matters of the heart that can wait," Hawke said firmly. "Reasonable enough, no?"

"You're torturing the boy," Armand said with a subtle hint of compassion.

"I didn't ask for this. And regardless, he's doing the same thing to me, does he not?" Hawke pressed. "Well, certainly you had something to do with this, but even if you didn't, it would all be much the same."

"And you think this is healthy for your friendship?" Armand asked disapprovingly.

"It's unhealthy for us to even get involved," Hawke said with a bitter sigh. "But this won't go away. Unless, well, he goes away."

"You think he's going to flee," Armand declared flatly. "That it's too much."

"I think it's possible for him to flee from any other reason just as well," Hawke said calmly. "I know I would, if there was no family to be tied to, without having a constant responsibility for something."

"He's taking you as his responsibility. Is that not enough?" Armand gestured eagerly.

"He doesn't know what that implies," Hawke said with a mild sigh. "Believe me, I welcomed him with open arms. There was no judgement on my part for his seeming inadequacy, struggling to get accustomed with freedom – I even tried to help him, as subtly and wholeheartedly as I can. But how many shocks do you want to give a man in such a short time before he finds it overwhelming?"

"You two are clearly a bunch of overthinking fools," Armand said sharply.

"I'm sorry, can you account otherwise for your love story?" Hawke retorted straight below the belt.

Armand looked at her in hesitation. "Not really."

"I thought as much," Hawke said with a victorious smirk. "Well, at least you didn't flee."

"He is loyal to you. Take it from another former slave. He won't flee, even if things go wrong. He has already grown roots and a found a home with you people," Armand said perceptively.

"I know," Hawke said and inhaled deeply. "I mean I don't know. I just have a feeling."

"You have more feelings to account for, kid. What are you doing?" Armand asked almost desperately, but keeping a nonchalant tone.

"Well, let's see – for now, I'm going to Antiva and taking care of my business, assure my lifetime supply for cigarillos , and I'm not exaggerating for I don't think I'm going to live that long," Hawke said with a bitter smile. "And to the matter of what you're ever so graciously pressing on – we're friends. We started our friendship by constant barking and mocking and a lot of deep conversations. Now, because of recent events, we're basically doing the same thing, as in, attacking each other, but through different, more concrete means. And that doesn't really leave much space for the deep conversations which might involve the truth about all this."

"You are aware of this and yet you let it continue?" Armand asked in amazement.

"I don't want to," Hawke said while frowning. "I mean," she paused, "I didn't predict the things that have happened. I only just now realized this. He'd taken me by surprise and I was certain that I was doing him a favour myself, because just as much as I, he wasn't really ready to face this issue."

"So?" Armand said with a scowl.

"So – as I keep repeating – taking care of business first, resolving matters of the heart later. Romances that start on a trip never end well. I'm not an idiot."

"You are, but, the good kind," Armand said more to himself, remaining honestly impressed. "Be good to him."

Hawke smiled at him, "I will – but only if you promise on Dorian's firm little butt that you won't whisper any of this to your new friend."

Armand frowned at her and she lifted her eyebrows in confident waiting. "Fine."

"No, no – you have to solemnly promise with the whole phrase."

He rolled his eyes, "I solemnly promise on..." he paused and gave her a homicidal look, "Dorian's firm little but that this conversation doesn't leave this line in the sand." He drew a line with his foot to make it more graphic.

"Thank you," Hawke said and smiled. "For both stuff."

"My pleasure, apparently," Armand sighed through his teeth.

"Now, I wanna sodding swim!" Hawke shouted cockily and ran towards the others who were setting camp.

Armand shook his head and sighed. She was just like Dorian had told him she was. He was impressed, but it looked funny to him how those two decided to approach this. It reminded him of how terribly clumsy he used to be. After saving Martin from drowning they both came to Kirkwall and set up shop and took mercenary jobs. He was already used to humans and free cities, but that didn't help him at all, from his point of view.

One day he felt himself desperate and accepted a noble wife's job to follow her husband wherever he went. Of course, the job was beneath him, but the pay was heavy and he swallowed his pride and took it. It wasn't anything demeaning for him; more for the man he was following.

And just when this man seemed the best of saints, he ended up in the Blooming Rose. He tried to blend in, sit at a table and wait for the man to finish his betrayal, when an annoyingly cocky voice from behind came, "My, never in my whole life have I seen someone so stoic sitting in a brothel."

Of course, he deflected, told him to avert his eyes for he wasn't interested in him. Dorian was unimpressed and assured him he wouldn't take him even if he paid for the premium package. Then all hell broke loose. He had never allowed himself to fight uselessly with somebody just for the sake of it. There were just so many words in the world one could waste. But then he found himself debating and arguing with this elf from the subject of prostitution to every other depth of life and he pushed him away thereafter.

Oh, such idiocy on his part, even he saw that the elf didn't care for his assaultive attitude. He welcomed his remarks and practically wasted his time on duty to talk to him until the Madam bitched at both of them to either pay and get a room or go back to their separate business.

And a few months passed until Armand found himself in a terrible need of something. He thought to himself – what an idiot he was, being mad with thoughts of going to the brothel to pay for a room just to hear that delightful unperturbed voice of Dorian letting him bitch away in a way he had never let loose before, when he suddenly turned into a verbal and illustrative dictionary of the common tongue. So many words he spoke.

He thought – what a terrible waste of life to have such a bright mind encaged in a dead-end and unworthy profession. He quickly let those thoughts go until one night he had to meet with an employer that demanded the Rose as a rendezvous place. He almost seemed like a child excited to go to the circus, but controlled himself and cursed at himself on the way.

As the Rivaini woman, Isabela, was vaguely explaining that she needed a relic tracked down, his eye wondered curiously in hopes he would see that elf again. He heard his name demanded by a massive and grumpy man from the Madam. He also heard something about a package of horror or sadism. "Hey, are you even listening? My eyes are over here," Isabela said angrily, but he was distracted. His eye went straight for the rooms and saw Dorian coming out and recognizing the massive beast who was climbing the stairs. The elf seemed perfectly unperturbed by anything that came to him, except now he saw genuine fear in his eyes, a heavy swallow and his legs trembling.

After a while he couldn't take it, he felt himself driven to barge in over there. Why? Even now he can't answer. But it was good that he did, because the man was about to outright kill him. Dorian was screaming from pain and couldn't take the torture anymore. He closed the door and told the man calmly that he could choose to walk away forever or he ends up on the torture cross with his head sawn to his crotch. The man believed him some kind of brothel guard and let it go – which was good. That he didn't cause a scene. Armand would have been banned from the Rose otherwise.

But of course, Dorian lashed out at him that he didn't need a guardian angel, that he lost him a very good paying client, that he could take all of it. And he found himself telling him that he didn't have to take this terrible filth to make a living. Oh, his speech was so long and true and Dorian was so unimpressed. More was he himself impressed by his sudden outburst of emotion and his need to lecture this elf that this was no life.

Bah, what is in his head. He didn't know. Dorian frightened him, for some reason. He was so determined to stand his ground that he felt guilty for prying. He told him he would take that good paying client's place and make up for the difference. Dorian laughed at him with tears, "You? You have a terrible sense of honour, serah and I very much want to just appreciate it, but you're way out of your mind and your budget."

Armand just smirked at him arrogantly and assured him it was his wish and he couldn't argue over it. He ignored the ridiculousness of the situation, why he would even do that, and kept paying for the elf. Of course, he needed to actually be there, which he took advantage of, much for Dorian's annoyance. He had to waste an hour of his life doing things he wasn't supposed to be paid for. Armand had no interest in abusing of that service. That only made things worse, until became much better and Dorian admitted he found a friend in him, much to his surprise.

And everything seemed fine and distracting until finally, he did take advantage of his rights… and all hell broke loose. His touch, his smile, this whole fantasy life he had built up in his mind and progressed to something even more powerful… it was too much.

He laughed at himself now. Such a raging stupid coward he became. It took him a very long time to understand what he felt and that this was nothing, if not a real paradise that he had to accept he deserved. But until that time, it was hauntingly painful.

For everything Armand put him through, he couldn't help but try to make an honourable amend and give up his fears for the North and take him out of that Maker forsaken brothel and excuse of a free city. Once they reached Antiva and he helped his friend, everything was about Dorian, who would follow him to the Dark City itself if he had to; this he knew for certain and he couldn't be more grateful for it. So he would give him the life he deserved.

As he reminisced, he watched Hawke arguing with Fenris about something, then she ran straight to the sea and Fenris kept watching her insistently as she went. Armand could recognize that drive anywhere. It was much like…- Oh you big clever bitch.

He shook his head and remained impressed – Hawke really was the smart little prick Dorian couldn't stop talking about (which made him jealous to bits for a while).

If she didn't oppose Fenris with such resistance - even if that brutal territory was just familiarity for her and him alike - if Hawke had been open with her desire for him and welcomed him directly – Fenris would run away from her and see it as too much for him. Even if she wasn't aware of this smart move, he thought what a clever way to distract Fenris from his anxiety and feelings of unworthiness. She opened up a new world for him, made him comfortable within it, then when "all hell broke loose", she kept him hanging and driven, making use of a man's natural and primitive instinct to chase after what he wanted. In doing so, she indirectly made him explore these feelings in another, much clearer perspective. He wouldn't get corrupted by the fears of his past, because he was too busy questioning why he couldn't get her and why he wanted her so badly. In this way, he made him become honest with himself about what stormed in his soul, instead of having her run after him and overwhelm him. Of course he would back away and hurt her.

How could he not see this? This was exactly what Dorian did to him. Whatever Hawke was doing and regardless of whether she was aware of it or not – it was good.

"Preparing for the Statue Look Alike International Competitions again, love?" Dorian said with the delightful familiar smile as he approached him.

Armand felt himself not caring for the others in the distance and put a hand over Dorian's shoulder protectively and took him gently by the chin, kissing him powerfully. Then as he brushed his hair, he gave him a piercing and only apparently, sorrowful look.

"What was that for? What's wrong?" Dorian asked in surprise.

Armand kept wondering with his eyes all over his figure and finally exhaled, "Just saying thank you, for everything."

Dorian raised an eyebrow and gave him a crooked smile, "I can think of other ways for you to thank me, you big choleric lunatic."

"Get in the carriage," Armand commanded sharply with a decisive look.

Meanwhile at the short camp…

"Maybe you should grow wings. As far as I can tell, that's the only thing that would make you stop seeing everything as danger," Hawke said in annoyance to Fenris.

"I can't simply deny what is real," Fenris said grumpily and then mocked her Qunari-infused philosophies, "I can't simply not be."

Hawke raised an eyebrow, seeming unimpressed and mocked him back, "Parshaara."

"I'm not saying it's sharks, but," Fenris said with a grin, "but it's sharks."

"Well, suit yourself," Hawke said cockily and shrugged. "I'm going in regardless. Might as well ride a shark, if I won't get to ride a dragon anytime soon."

"Happy dying out there," Fenris said nonchalantly without looking at her.

But he kept his look on her when she had her back turned as always. She ran to the sea and stopped in the shallow waters and his heart kept throbbing in his chest at the fear that she would recklessly put herself in danger if she went in entirely.

To his surprise, she only stood there for a few minutes and let the golden landscape sink in, then came back to them and said, "Alright, I've got about enough of this. I never liked the sea."

"Give me a few minutes here," Varric said in annoyance. "Bianca's cocking ring is off."

Hawke snorted. "Her what? You had me at cock-"

"So help me, I'll shoot you in the nose, Hawke," Varric said angrily. "From one Bianca to another."

"I keep forgetting how much of an angry lunatic you become when fondling her," Hawke said calmly and shook her head.

"Never mess with a man in love," Isabela said approvingly.

"That's bullshit," Hawke retorted with a raised eyebrow. "As if that's the only worthy reason to get off your lazy ass and fight."

"I didn't say it was worthy," Isabela chuckled. "At best it's endearing – and I'm sugar coating it."

"Speak of it for what it is," Hawke said firmly. "Foolish."

"That's still sugar coating it," Isabela said with a smirk. "But enough, I'm feeling sick with such thoughts and we're by the sea. That's terribly confusing and embarrassing."

"Poor Izzy," Hawke said mockingly. "Got too used to the earth?"

"Shush, Hawke," Isabela said a bit sharply.

"Never mess with a woman in love?" Hawke said in amusement, looking at her and Varric. "Aw, you two are adorable."

"Cut it out," Isabela said angrily. "You're no better."

Hawke crossed her arms with a smirk, "Is there something you want to get off your chest, Bela?"

Isabela assumed a threatening pose, "As a matter of fact, yes –"

"I did it! Oh, baby you had me so scared," Varric shouted, interrupting her. "Now we're good to go."

"Finally," Fenris said grumpily, cursing at the dwarf in his mind that he didn't let Isabela assault Hawke.

Sunset, Antiva City

As Hawke glanced for a second at the city they just entered, she remembered her Father's words:

"Yes, Antiva City… that city drew me so. It was a fairly new city, in that it had not existed in the ancient times and it was now a great port. In fact, it was very likely the greatest city of all the North. I remember it well; the Black Death had come to it by way of ships in its harbor, and thousands were desperately sick at that time. The first time I was there, I found a city full of gorgeous palaces built upon dark green canals. But the Black Death had ahold of the populace who were dying in huge numbers daily and ferries were taking the bodies out to be buried deeply in the soil of the islands in the city's immense lagoon.

Everywhere there was weeping and desolation, among elves and humans alike. People gathered together to die in sickhouses, faces covered in sweat, bodies tormented by incurable swellings. The stench of the dead rose everywhere. Some were trying to flee the city and its infestation. Others remained with their suffering loved ones.

Never had I seen such plague. And yet it was amid a city of such remarkable splendor, I found myself numb with sorrow and tantalized by the beauty of the palaces and by the wonder of the San Giustinia Cathedral which bore exquisite testament to the city's ties with Andrastianism. I could do nothing but weep in such a place. It was no time for peering by the torchlight at paintings or statues that were wholly new to me. I had to depart, out of respect for the dying, no matter what I was.

But the second time I came, the plague had been abolished and indeed I wondered the palaces and chantries throughout Antiva, quite taken aback and amazed at its beauty and its warming radiance."

Yes, it was the gorgeous and glittering city of Antiva, which drew them with its indescribably majestic palaces, their windows open to the contestant breezes of the Amaranthine Ocean, and its dark winding canals. One part of the city, as Armand said, was basically built over the water and there were narrow, banana-looking boats called gondolas which were used to travel the districts.

This was the part of the city at which they arrived, quite beaten and tired. "So where to now?" Varric asked eagerly.

"The inn where I recommended staying is quite pricey, but I do not think that's a problem for you, no?" Armand started. "Well, that's if you do not mind that it is in the same district near a luxurious brothel."

"So it's pretty much exactly like where I live," Hawke said grumpily, remembering how the Red Lantern District was exactly by her house.

"I don't mind at all," Isabela said with a grin. "I think that's where you'll find me for most of this trip."

"So long as you don't needlessly press to take me with you, I approve," Hawke said in amusement. "So Antivans are much the same as Free Marchers… they harbor luxury whorehouses just in the same "sunny side" of the city without as much as a fit of shame."

"Yes it's much like the Rose in Hightown," Armand said with a snort of disgust. "Let us leave then."

Hailing a gondola at the quais they were in, they traveled the canals for hours looking up at the spectacular facades which made up the waterways of la Città di Antiva, as its countrymen called it. Hawke listened to the voices everywhere across the wonderful architecture of the streets and found herself immersed in the scenery. She thanked the gods there was not even the slightest sight of a Templar nearby. Fenris lay back sometimes on his elbow and gazed up at the stars, quite drunken on what he beheld. As his eye would wonder back at the gondola, he'd catch Hawke stealing glimpses of him before she would look away with nonchalance.

When they arrived in the district Armand sought to guide them to, the brothel shimmered with light from inside and curious violin music resounded in the street. "

Oh my," Hawke said grumpily. "I won't get any sleep, will I?"

"The Bone Pit is famous for its loud continuity. The capital itself is known as the city that never sleeps," Armand said a bit mockingly.

"The what?" Hawke asked in terror and everybody looked at him curiously.

"The Bone Pit," Armand repeated. "Oh, because it's the same with the mine back in Kirkwall. Yes, I found that coincidence rather appalling myself."

Hawke sighed and shook her head, "Will wonders never cease."

"That's what I keep saying," Fenris intervened bitterly."I think it's because I often say this that it keeps happening," he smirked and shook his head, "Foolish mistake."

"You're the reason this keeps happening to me?" Hawke asked in a mocking pretense and gestured, "Begone foul creature!"

Fenris lifted his eyebrows in a deliberate unimpressed grimace, "You will soon come to regret what you ask of me."

"I will, won't I?" Hawke said in amusement. "Well, let's go in then." Fenris nodded, "Yes, let's get this over with before I fall asleep." Isabela snorted quickly, "That's what she said."

When they entered, Hawke was filled with a sudden disgust and fascination at the same time. And this was largely because she had fallen in love with this particular "little palazzo" as Armand called it, an inn of great beauty, its façade covered in glistering marble tiles, its arches in the Northern style, and its immense rooms more luxurious than anything she had ever beheld in all her nights and days. The lofty ceilings amazed her. They had known nothing like them in Ferelden, at least not in a private house. And on top of the immense roof was a carefully arranged roof garden from which one could view the sea.

"You sure we can afford this?" Varric asked awkwardly. "Not that I don't really like it here, but- "

"This is all on me," Hawke quickly said with a smile. "Don't worry about it."

"That's very generous of you," Fenris said with a short frown.

"That's me," Hawke said mockingly. "An endless fountain of joy for the damned ones."

Fenris snorted and shook his head, "Poor you. Queen of the Damned."

"I wouldn't take it that far," Hawke said firmly. "But I like the name, it certainly has a macabre ring to it."

"Don't let it go over your head," Fenris said calmly.

After Hawke generously paid for all their rooms and Varric kept insisting that he should chip in and after many failed but annoying attempts, Hawke finally gave in to his request, they each went to their separate rooms. Hawke told them motherly not to go out without letting her know first, but other than, they were free to do anything they liked until such a time when she chose to basically summon them for whatever mysterious thing she had to do in the city. Armand thanked her and told her he would abuse of her generosity, only so because that was Dorian's wish, until his own business was done.

Sunset, Via della Libertà

They went by a sort of restaurant open in the street near where they were staying, by the so called bridge Ponte della Libertà. It was covered by red velvet curtains and the chairs and tables were particularly white and fancy. Men were playing their traditional instruments, flutes, guitars and other ones Hawke couldn't name. The songs were all Antivan and hauntingly beautiful, the words she didn't understand, but they were filled with a sort of love for everything and everyone. The chairs and curtains that drew contour to the territory of the restaurant on the street were filled with perfume and it started raining again. The romantic scenery made Hawke feel like throwing up, to say the least.

Varric abused much of his pocket to buy all the coffee and wine from this place, which wasn't really a bad thing. He gave everyone cigarillos, which they happily lit, except for Armand and Fenris who politely refused.

"So what are we doing here, really?" Isabela asked in boredom.

Hawke lit her cigarillo nonchalantly and Isabela pressed, "Hawke."

"All in good time," Hawke said confidently, without looking at her. "All in good time."

"That's more vague than Fen's face," Isabela said in annoyance. "Don't worry, FenFen, you're still pretty."

Fenris frowned, "Stop calling me that. My name is Fenris."

"So you keep reminding me," Isabela said nonchalantly. "And so I keep not caring."

"How come I don't get a nickname?" Hawke intervened curiously.

"Well… it's kind of hard to cripple a name which already sounds like it's being spelled backwards," Isabela said in amusement. "I mean Hildegaard… Maker, where do I even start?"

"From the beginning, if it's not too much for your little brain," Hawke chuckled.

"Maybe I can just spell it backwards again? Dra—Draage-"

"Draagedlih," Fenris saved her time.

"Oh Maker my tongue would swirl and suffocate on itself if I pronounce that," Varric said in amusement.

"Stop making fun of my name," Hawke demanded firmly.

"Or better yet, Bianca," Isabela said with a grin and took Hawke by the shoulder. "Dear sweet Bianca, my undying love for you with no sheer equal in this whole blasted world – except for Varric's crossbow."

Hawke rolled her eyes and shoved Isabela's arm away, "My name is Hawke. Deal with it."

"That's also open to a lot of jokes," Varric said in amusement. "Little mockingbird, you."

Fenris laughed softly at how the two rogues tried to mock her with cheesiness.

"Ok, I regret it now. Go back to Fenris's name crippling please," Hawke said desperately.

"No, no," Fenris said quickly with a smirk. "I'd much rather press on making mockery of your three names. Mine is just the one and it's so lonely here, being made the target of all jokes."

"Then maybe you should change it," Hawke said grumpily. "By the way, how's the face-changing going?"

"Much as before," Fenris said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his wine. "Its process quite delayed by my undying compassion of not making you feel like you're the only grotesque figure in this world."

"My, I'm quite taken aback by this honest act of mercy," Hawke said mockingly. "Your deeds will not go unobserved, Sir."

"I'm sure I can think of many ways for you to thank me," Fenris deliberately implied with an evil grin. He was taken by the wine and forgot about the company they were in. "Very many in fact."

Hawke caught on his subtlety and frowned, "You can go thank yourself."

Ouch, Varric thought. This is painful. Hawke, what the hell are you doing…

"So Hawke, how's the cigarillo? I made a good choice, didn't I?" Varric saved it quickly.

"It's quite heavy and a bit too sweet for my taste, but it does the trick," Hawke said with a smile.

Fenris became awfully annoyed at her and grumpily drank his wine in silence. Would it not for their company, he was sure he'd thank her right there, as resentful and frustrating as she was. Even with her chainmal robes and pants she stubbornly, much like he, clung onto in a part of a city which seemed perfectly safe, her hair up in a ponytail as always - she looked so primitively beautiful and viciously delicious, now that he caught a taste of those wicked lips. Her constant need to put him down wasn't really tiring, as much as now – he admitted – was quite enthralling, because he knew she would soon break. Especially in a place like this, the capital of love. She might not be impressed by such idiocies, he wasn't either, but much here than in Kirkwall, her guard was down. Then he noticed Isabela eyeing him insistently.

"You keep starting at me. Is it my eyes again?" he asked Isabela nonchalantly.

"You're very lanky, for an elf. I like lanky," Isabela replied happily.

"From what I gather, you like a lot of things," Fenris said flatly.

Isabela smiled. "Nonsense. But you can't blame me for going after something I like when I see it."

"I suggest keeping your distance," Fenris said instinctively, quite impressed at himself. He noticed Hawke looking at them as she talked to Varric.

"Now you're just making it more challenging," Isabela said while shaking her head.

In fact, why shouldn't he make use of a stratagem now? The wine made him think dark thoughts and as maddened as he was now, he thought he could try something. However stupid it may seem.

"Do you intend to go after me, then?" Fenris asked with a piercing look.

He didn't know if Isabela caught his stunt, but she replied with a grin, "Will you take off that spiky armor you're wearing?"

"It's been known to happen," Fenris said nonchalantly, subtly looking at Hawke, who got him out of it without even really trying, in the Deep Roads, at his house, in the woods… No, he had to concentrate.

"Then forget it," Isabela said firmly, leaning backwards in her chair with nonchalance.

Fenris hesitated, being tricked by her, but strove to press, "If you indeed want a challenge, it can stay on."

Isabela grinned and raised an eyebrow, "Now we're tal-"

He turned his head quickly at the sound of a chair creaking against the ground. Hawke left the table with her cigarillo still on her and walked away in the street.

"Where's she going?" Isabela asked in confusion.

"Beats me," Varric said with a frown. "She said she'll be right back."

A few minutes later, Via di Farfalle (Butterflies Street)

Hawke sat down on a secluded fountain just at the end of that street, its walls full of green ivy and blue flowers, which were probably the reason why the street was called Butterfly, for they resembled them greatly.

She thought, who would love such a place? A place that managed far greater even than Kirkwall to mask the cruelty and horrors that were taking place at the behest of the Crown, the Crows and other such guilds, if those were even allowed to exist by the latter.

For the color of the evening sky over the piazza that you see when you are first risen? For the domes of the churches beneath the moon? For the color of the canals that only poets and painters could appreciate in the starlight? One should be a wicked and greedy creature to love this place so ignorantly.

And then she was deflecting… The real maddening thought in her head was Fenris so bluntly flirting with Isabela as if she wasn't there. It didn't matter if he was doing it on purpose – she was certain he was doing it on purpose – because even the thought of it made her extremely, mind-breakingly jealous. She lifted her eyebrows and shook her head, remaining impressed by herself for a few seconds, at just how much of an idiot she probably looked. She took a long drag from her cigarillo. Oh, Hawke… who would have thought you are the jealous type.

"Dear sweet, badass little Bianca," a delightful voice came from behind and she flinched. Varric was this voice's possessor and he went by the fountain and sat next to her.

She chuckled. "Feeling cheesy tonight are we?" Hawke asked in amusement.

"What can I say, I'm feeling quite emotional," Varric said charmingly. "We're in the capital of love, after all."

"But you called me Bianca," Hawke said with a scowl. "I thought you would never use that name for anyone else. That's what you said, if I recall correctly."

"If you haven't noticed by now, I tend to lie a lot," Varric said with an evil grin. "Plus, compassion is free from my point of view, but respect has to be earned. Calling you Bianca is a testament to that."

"You're scaring me, Varric," Hawke said with raised eyebrows. "Go back to the dirty, badass vocabulary right this instant, I beg you."

"Oh, pshht. Let a man be drunk," Varric said grumpily, then leaned backwards towards the water of the fountain. "Drunk with loooove."

Hawke caught his back so he wouldn't fall. "Maybe a bit too drunk."

Varric chuckled, "Oh, I earned it. Tenfold."

"Can you count to ten?" Hawke asked warmly as she held him by the shoulders and let him rest against her chest.

Varric raised six fingers consecutively, then grew frustrated and gave up, "Ah, who needs counting when you have the golden tongue of a storyteller and a beautiful woman by your side to save your ass whenever you're in trouble."

"By beautiful woman you mean your Bianca," Hawke said in amusement.

"Okay, women, sorry," Varric said charmingly. "And sorry for being drunk."

"Like you said, you've earned it," Hawke said happily and stroked his hair. "You look like a honeybear dipped in caramel and joys of all joys."

"And you look like an idiot," Varric said a bit sharply. "What the hell are you doing, Hawke?"

"I'm uh," Hawke said in confusion, "Okay, sorry, I won't stroke your hair any longer. Wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea, Mr. Drunken McFattso."

"No, not that," Varric said angrily. "But you can keep doing that. It feels nice."

"Then what?" Hawke asked in concern.

"You and Broody," Varric said grumpily. "You're making me cry just by looking at you."

"All in good time," Hawke said confidently. "All in good time."

"So you keep saying," Varric said in annoyance. "Look, just promise… just for the sake of me being drunk and not remembering this by morning… I'll say this only once and then I'll firmly deny having ever made such statement," he paused for a second, "Don't hurt my friend."

Hawke lifted her eyebrows and widened her eyes, then sighed and looked at the piazza in the distance. "I promise I will not."

"Good," Varric said while swaying his head in dizziness. "Of course, I had the same talk with him. So my work here is done. I won't press on it any longer."

"You did what?" Hawke asked in terror and pushed him away from her chest.

Varric chuckled warmly, "I'm just shitting you." He went back to lean on her. "You should've seen the look on your face."

"Please don't interfere in this, as much as I know it's a compulsion of yours I can't cure," Hawke said pleadingly. "I need to do this on my own."

"I know," Varric said sweetly. "Might I suggest though to keep it in your pants for the time being. Nothing good ever happens from starting something on a trip. That is… if you haven't already."

Hawke swallowed heavily and said, "No, not exactly."

"So you did start something," Varric said drunkenly. "And you haven't told me. I'm hurt, Hawke."

"You won't remember this anyway," Hawke said with an evil grin. "So I'm safe."

"You're such a bitch," Varric said warmly.

"It's hard to do anything when you're around," Hawke said with a double meaning, then tickled Varric ruthlessly, "How can I do anything when I can't keep my hands off you, you big drunken honeybear."

"Aw, I'm moved," Varric said sweetly in-between laughing. "But I'm spoken for."

"Yeah," Hawke said and rolled her eyes. "So you keep saying."

Varric chuckled and sighed, looking in the distance, "Don't cry, Hawke. You'll always be my secret mistress."

Hawke snorted and burst into laughter, "My, you're such a gentlemen."

"I'm a perfect gentleman," Varric said confidently, "in public."

"Oh my," Hawke said with lifted eyebrows, then looked in the distance too. "Thanks, by the way. For coming after me and sweetly trying to cheer me up."

"That's what I'm here for," Varric said charmingly. "And now you can express your gratitude by walking me back to the restaurant. In one piece, if it's not too much to ask."

"I got your back, Tethras," Hawke said confidently and rose from the fountain, taking Varric by the hand and dragging him up.

A few hours later

Everyone went to sleep for all she knew, but she kept fretting and scowling in her sheets and grew tired of counting sheep. She was very drunk at that point. She went out of the building and sat on the edge of a great fountain nearby. The night was deeply purple and the streets were still roaming with people.

"I really need a break," she said out loud bitterly, looking down and holding onto her knees.

After a few moments, she heard Fenris coming by the fountain. "There you are," he said with a controlled tone as not to express his concern, "You know you're a hypocrite, I hope?"

"I'm the leader, I can go out whenever I please," Hawke said nonchalantly.

"My, and such a modest leader we have," Fenris said mockingly. He hesitated to ask her politely to sit down, but she gestured towards the edge for him to join her.

"You chose me, it's your problem, not mine," Hawke said confidently, but pertaining to different meanings on the way.

"Yes, indeed, why did I choose you?" Fenris asked himself out loud, without fear for her response, as he was deeply drunk himself.

"You asked for this, did you not?" Hawke responded, her voice cool, brushing her arm in defense. She was trembling. How deeply she … and how she didn't want him to know.

"Oh, yes," Fenris responded in a small, calm voice, "Indeed I did ask for this, but then before how many a taste of you, was it?" He paused, then continued. "You chose this much the same." Hawke looked down and flinched in defense. "Why did you choose me for those kisses, hm?"

"Because I wanted to," she said without further ado.

Fenris shook his head. "There's more to it."

"Then be my teacher," Hawke said angrily, looking at him.

Fenris sighed, "There's a bitter cold in me," he said, "a cold which comes from a distant land. And nothing really makes it warm. Even Kirkwall did not make it warm. You knew of this cold. You tried a thousand times to melt it, and transform it into something more brilliant, but you only think you never succeeded," he said honestly, then looked at her with a piercing look. She looked sorrowful and breathed hard. He continued while firmly looking away, "And then one day when I came near death – no was, in fact, dying – you counted upon that cold to give me stamina for fighting it," he said nostalgically, remembering the healing in the Deep Roads.

Hawke nodded and looked away, but Fenris put a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me, please," he said calmly. "Isn't it so?" His face was serene.

"Yes," she said, "it is so."

"And you made use of the powers you despised to help me. Without much further question, you helped me all over again in many other ways once you came back," he said calmly, remembering everything she did for him, starting with her concern for the mess in his mansion to teaching him to read and write.

Hawke nodded again in silence, striving so stubbornly not to look at him.

Fenris pressed his lips and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Why do you shrink from me when I ask this question?" Fenris pressed calmly.

"Fenris…" she said, speaking firmly, "Is this a curse, what I am?"

"No," Fenris answered quickly, much to her honest surprise.

"Think on it before you answer," Hawke pressed bitterly. "It is a curse."

"No," he said again.

"Will wonders never cease," Hawke said in bitter amusement. "You think of me higher than myself for what I am, and you of all people."

"I'm full of surprises, am I not?" Fenris said with an amused grin. "Maybe it is high time that I be your teacher now."

Hawke lifted her eyebrows in mockery, "Sure, have at it. I'm getting tired of my position already. It requires so much mastery over one's patience."

"I've noticed," Fenris said firmly.

"Do you Fenris? Have patience, I mean," Hawke asked honestly, sighing to no end.

Fenris looked at her sorrowfully, for the struggles in her mind proved to be much greater than he had thought. He said with a deep and firm voice, "For you, I will find the patience."

Hawke inhaled deeply and finally looked at him, "Then cease with your questions. Don't seek to anger me or embitter me further."

Fenris chuckled warmly, "I will do so, if you cease with pushing me away. Let me teach you what I have to teach."

Hawke had lost her little battle and sighed angrily at him, looking more like a child than she usually did. She curled her legs beneath her, sitting there motionless on the edge of the fountain, with Fenris still holding on her shoulder with no fear for her predictable resistances.

"Teach away then," she said in annoyance.

"Not tonight," Fenris said calmly with a warm, short smile. He dragged her closer to him and forced her to rest her head on his chest. She sought to resist instinctively, but gave in when Fenris brushed the hair on top of her head gently. "Tonight I'll just steal you away and savor this moment."

AH, fuck me. I still have a lot for next chapter in my head. I'll begin to it shortly, probably post it today. Hehe, you know you love me for it. Please review! xoxo... gossip Tethras.