The mayhem was over. Trevelyan Terror had won against Bellinda the Bulldozer and Donnic was being smug about it.

"Hey, there's always next year," Hawke tried to comfort Aveline.

"Who knows if there will even be a next year?" Aveline said angrily.

At first it seemed like she was just being overly competitive. When that turned into downright fatalism, Hawke's arms started slowly going around her neck. "Poor Aveline," she said, pouting. "Do you need a high too?"

"Wait, a hug or a high?" Donnic said, popping his head forward.

"Maker, my eyes are watering," Aveline said, trying to get out of her embrace. Then she looked at Fenris.

He was smelling his apron, or rather the cupcake on it. Then he licked it. His big grimace said that was a mistake.

"What are you doing?" Hawke said, laughing.

"I'm hungry," Fenris said innocently, Bull and Krem cackling to each other behind him.

"Pass," Aveline said to Hawke with half-lidded eyes.

After finding some stadium delicatessen, Fenris and Aveline seemed to calm down. The game went on, though there was nothing to write home about. Knight Whatshisface had a tower shield and a spear, while Knight Whomever had a two-handed sword and terrible parry. The latter kept side-stepping the former, but was too slow to hit back. Not only that, but he kept distancing himself, which was the opposite of what one wanted to do against a spearman. It was only a matter of time.

"So…" Bull said, spreading his legs and folding his hands, "… you work together and sleep together?"

Fenris coughed and pretended he didn't hear that. Hawke looked up, chewing and thinking.

"Yes. How does that work?" Krem said eagerly. He rubbed the back of his head. "For… purely academic reasons."

Bull snorted. "Please… I see how you look at Skinner."

"With fear and terror?" Krem said.

"Hey, whatever works for you," Bull said, laughing.

"Ooo. Krem and Skinner sitting in a tree," Hawke sang childishly, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Boom boom crack bang-a bang-a boom boom!" Bull scatted, spanking the air.

Krem hid behind his palm.

"Aww, did we get embarrassed?" Bull said, as if to a child.

"Yes, you're very embarrassing," Krem said.

Hawke laughed. "Well, then, for purely 'academic' reasons," she said, making air quotes. "The secret to it is simple. It all comes down to keeping a good work-life balance. I ride him hard at work—" she said, leaving it in the air. She went back to her sandwich.

Fenris laughed and choked on his grill skewers. Donnic also laughed, a little hard.

"Graphic work-life balance," Aveline said snarkily.

Hawke smiled to herself. "And that's just the things I say out loud."

"Nice," Bull said, extending his fist.

Hawke fist-bumped him, while Fenris kept coughing. "You okay?" she said, a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you wish me to die?" he said in a weak voice, hitting his chest.

Hawke laughed. "He's so cute," she said up to Bull, petting Fenris's hair.

Fenris started writing in his notebook.

"What's that?" Bull said.

"A notebook," Fenris said flatly, closing it.

"Right," Bull said, unimpressed. "So, it's a love-hate kind of thing? Krem, take notes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Krem said, insulted.

"Oh, come on. It's Skinner," Bull said. "You're not gonna win her over by baking her cupcakes."

"Nah," Hawke said nonchalantly. "Tradition is overrated. What started as pure soul-sucking hate gradually turned into friendship and more."

"She's exaggerating," Fenris said.

"Am I?" Hawke said, chuckling. "Do you not remember the olden days?"

"Vividly…" Aveline said, jaw in hand.

Three years ago, The Barracks

It was a peaceful Wednesday. The flames crackled in the fireplace and the smell of fresh vellum wafted through Aveline's nostrils as she put up the new roster. Knight-Captain Jevan came out of his office the fourth time that morning, smiling awkwardly and going straight to the loo.

It was terrible. He stuck her on bullshit admin duty. He deserved whatever venereal disease he had.

She was going to crack and go into his office. He'd always lock it, but with so many trips to the bathroom he became lazy and forgetful. But then she heard rushed footsteps down the stairs and turned around. The footsteps stopped and the person jumped the last few stairs.

"Hawke," Aveline concluded, turning back to face her. She was wearing a shitty chainmail vest over a turquoise and yellow stripy sweater that had a sewn patch over her forearm; a hole was forming at the collar, and she was coming right at her.

"You gotta slap me, Aveline," Hawke said frantically, her pigtails landing back down over her shoulders. "I just hired a guy who would pay to see me burn at the stake. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Aveline blinked. "Is he… fit?"

Hawke made a raspberry. "Men aren't fit. They're hairy and unkempt and smell like pit stains!"

"Aveline," Donnic said with a little smile, passing them by and smelling like a forest after rainfall.

"Donnic," Aveline said, fantasising having a shower together.

"Aveline?" Hawke said.

Now she was fantasising about him in a towel and shaving in the mirror.

Hawke came in closer, the imaginary smell of soap replaced by real ale.

"What?" Aveline said, breaking away. "Right. So, you hired a hairy, smelly mage-hater?"

"No," Hawke whined dejectedly, letting herself fall on the stairs. "I hired a mage-hater with great hair," she complained, hugging her knees. "And it smells amazing!" she cried, burying her head between them.

Aveline looked down at her, raising her eyebrow.

"He-he carries a comb in his pocket," Hawke whined in frustration, her hands gesturing chaotically. "And he has this deep voice that vibrates inside my skull," she said, squinting as her hands went in her hair. "And he's an elf so he probably has not one hair on his wonderful lanky bo-ho-ho-dy!" she cried dramatically, her head falling back.

Aveline slapped her.

"Thanks, I really needed that," Hawke said, rubbing her cheek and giving a heavy sigh.

"So, you hired him because he's good-looking?" Aveline said with half-lidded eyes.

"No," Hawke whined again, rolling her eyes. "I hired him because he's insanely skilled and…" she said, looking away. "Well, he was slave. In Tevinter. And he's still being hunted," she said, drawing on her knee with her nail. "It's not like the hate comes from gossip and ignorance."

Aveline looked up, thinking. "Sounds like the job of a stand-up mage to change his mind..."

Hawke scoffed, loudly. "I'm not gonna prove myself," she said with a grimace. "I'm not thirteen."

"Really? Because you sounded thirteen for most of this conversation," Aveline said with crossed arms.

Two days later

Another boring day of admin duty, and Aveline was rapt in fantasies. Hawke was lurking behind her.

"Andraste, you scared me," Aveline said, turning around.

"Please slap me," Hawke said, reeking of rum.

Aveline sighed. "What happened now?"

"I saw his thing!" Hawke said, a little loudly. People were taking notice. She started whispering, "I saw. His fucking. Thing!"

"You slept with him?" Aveline whispered, grimacing.

"No!" Hawke said, insulted. "He had knots from shell shock and couldn't get out of bed, so I…" she said, looking around. "'Massaged' him," she whispered.

Aveline laughed. "Yeah, you did."

"And it was like, right there, in his pants," Hawke said, gesturing. "All thick and…" she whispered, transfixed within herself, "… penis-shaped."

"Andraste," Aveline said, laughing. "You sound like you've never seen one your entire life."

"I have," Hawke said, defensively. She cleared her throat, scratching her hair. "Just… not-not that eye-catching…"

"Well, sounds like the mage-hater was happy to see you," Aveline said, tongue-in-cheek.

"No, he wasn't!" Hawke said, laughing. "It was just an accident, and it was so, so awkward."

Aveline swallowed her lips, stifling laughter.

"I'm compromised!" Hawke said dramatically. "What if he's funny? What if he-he… he likes to read? What if he eats pussy?! I'm going to die!"

Aveline blinked a few times, then widened her eyes. "You're not 'compromised'. You've just stumbled upon the rare case that someone is your 'type' and now you're acting like an idiot. Give it time. He's still an awful person at the end of the day. The fever will pass. You shall see."

"Right," Hawke said, snapping her fingers and pointing at her. "Time. That's what I need."

"You will be fine," Aveline said, hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Aveline," Hawke said, making to leave.

Aveline pulled her shoulder back and slapped her.

"Just to be safe," Aveline said, shrugging.

"Yeah," Hawke said, rubbing her cheek.

One month later

Guard-Captain Aveline came down the stairs, eating a sandwich in a rush. It was peaceful again, everyone already out and about. Unfortunately, Donnic was stuck on admin duty until he recovered from his wounds. Fortunately for her, that meant they could be alone.

"Donnic," Aveline said, her voice cracking a little as she saw him at the roster with his arm in a sling and bending over to pick up some papers.

"I think I'm stuck…" Donnic said.

"Okay," Aveline said, laughing. She went to help him. "Let's get you upright, Guardsman."

Donnic cracked his back, giving a melodious sigh of relief. "Thanks, Aveline. I-I mean, Captain."

"It's not official yet," Aveline said, brushing his shoulder as she took her hands away. "Take your time."

"It's bloody well official between the guards," Donnic said, smiling. "I'm excited to be under you." He blinked. "I mean… to be working… under you."

Aveline started to grin, when a loud whiny moan came from her office.

"Oh, uh… Hawke is waiting for you," Donnic said.

"Great…" Aveline said. "Thank you, Guardsman. As you were."

In her office, Hawke's cheek was smooshed against the desk, looking very existential.

"Can't you wait quietly?" Aveline said a little curtly. "I was in the middle of something."

"What?" Hawke said.

"I was…" Aveline said, looking at the door. "Not important. What's the matter with you?"

"I hate him," Hawke said, staring at the wall as Aveline took a seat at her desk. Hawke sat up, her hair all messy. "I hate him, Aveline. I physically hate him!"

"I thought you physically wanted him," Aveline said, unimpressed.

"I physically want to punch him," Hawke said flatly.

"What happened?" Aveline said, sighing.

"Well," Hawke said, putting her legs up on Aveline's desk. She glowered at her, so she took them off and crossed her arms. "We held hands. He walked me to my door. He made me laugh—" she complained.

"What an arsehole!" Aveline said sarcastically.

"I'm not finished," Hawke said sharply. "When I met Merrill, I was surprised her mum didn't tell me she was a mage, and the brooding bastard behind me was like, 'Oh, oh, I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants'," she said, imitating him.

Aveline narrowed her eyes. "He told me she's a blood mage."

"Well… yes," Hawke said, scratching her head.

"Is that something people want?" Aveline said, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Hawke whined, her head falling on the side. "But—argh!" she growled, holding her temples. "See? This is how he muddies the waters!" she said angrily, her fists banging on the desk. "Because he did not say that when we knew she was a blood mage!" she said, pointing at her. "He said that when she threw her first fireball!"

"Still…" Aveline said, shrugging uncomfortably. "Aren't you worried?"

"Oh, I'm super worried," Hawke said quickly.

"Good," Aveline said, staring her down.

"Varric and I are handling it," Hawke said sharply. "But it's not just that," she said in frustration. "You should have heard him talking to Anders. He was saying Circle mages are by definition slaves and Fenris, the former slave, said he didn't 'give a shit'."

"Hm," Aveline said, thinking. "So, it's just because they're mages."

"He thinks it's a 'necessary evil'. 'Better them, than me'," Hawke said, making air quotes. "That the only way people like him can be safe is if people like me are oppressed."

"Well… that is the Chantry stance…" Aveline said dejectedly, staring at her papers.

"So?" Hawke said, glowering.

"Look, I'm not saying it's right," Aveline said defensively. "It's a little lazy and reductionist if you ask me. But they have a point. Mages need to be educated, and some degree of surveillance is needed. I've got to chase after hundreds of murderous lunatics in this town and the damage would be ten times worse if they had magic."

"Yeah, no, I get that," Hawke said, narrowing her eyes. "But there's a lot of space between education and oppression. You've seen what they did to Anders's friend. That's institutional abuse and corruption. Do you stand for that?"

"No," Aveline said sternly. "Does he?"

"Uhm, well, let's see," Hawke said, counting on her fingers. "He thought there must be a good reason the Templars made Karl Tranquil even though it's completely illegal."

Aveline pursed her lips.

"Then I found this young woman who was being abused and enslaved. She was very agitated and turned into an abomination before I could save her," Hawke said, lowering her head. "I found out about her family. Her father was a Templar. I went to deliver the news of her death," she said, a flash of sadness in her eyes. Her face became flippant and childish again. "And guess what Fenris thought would be a good idea to do in that moment?" she said, resting an elbow atop the chair.

Aveline was afraid to ask now.

"Blackmail him for money."

Aveline's lips disappeared.

"When I told him no and that it was gross, he sulked for the entire day and didn't speak to me."

Aveline chuckled to herself. "That makes sense."

"Come with me and you'll see," Hawke insisted. "It's just…" she said, shaking her head. "He's too much."

And so, Aveline did come with her, eventually. They were at the Circle, returning a Templar recruit safely after he'd been kidnapped by neo-Tevinter supremacists. The debate was looming over everyone's heads.

"D-demons? Did you say something about the recruits and demons?" Macha said, backing away and curling up into herself.

"I didn't want to tell you Macha," Keran said softly. "They were horrible." He looked at Hawke. "Those mages see the rest of us as ants to be crushed. They won't stop until they've destroyed the Chantry and the Templars forever."

"A lesson we all must learn," Cullen said ominously.

"Agreed," Hawke said nonchalantly. "It's a hard lesson to learn—seeing people as ants. It's all well and good until it's being done to you."

"How can you say that after everything you've seen?" Cullen said, offended. "At any time, any mage could become a monster. From the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters." His hands slashed the air in a criss-cross, his voice becoming sterner by the second. "Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me."

Hawke stifled a chuckle, giving him a shit-eating smile.

"Surely that's a little harsh," Macha said.

"Yet also true," Fenris said flatly.

Hawke pursed her lips aggressively, her head slowly turning towards Aveline.

Alright, so… he really was an extremist.

"Anyone with power can become a monster. From the quiet apprentice to the king's general," Hawke said flatly, staring at her compatriot. "But you know what guarantees a monster?" she said, crossing her arms. "Being treated as if you're not a person."

A few days later, Hawke paid Aveline another visit. She waited quietly this time.

"Slap me!" she shouted as soon as Aveline came in.

Aveline sighed. "You know, there are people you can pay to do that..."

Hawke scoffed, crossing her legs on Aveline's desk. "I'm too poor for that."

Aveline shoved them away and sat down. "Aren't you seeing a whore for…" she said, narrowing her eyes, "… rope or something?"

Hawke stared at her. "Yeah, but impact play's extra," she whined defeatedly.

"Impact play?" Aveline said. She stared at a wall. "I just learned a word I did not need to know."

Hawke crossed her arms, grinning and narrowing her eyes. "So, you and Wesley never…?"

Aveline raised her eyebrow.

"I heard Templars are quite kinky."

"I heard elves have super sperm," Aveline shot back. "Better be careful."

"I'm not going to sleep with Fenris," Hawke said, rolling her eyes.

"I meant the whore," Aveline said.

"You know, the first time was cute, but now it's just condescending," Hawke said sharply. "They're called sex workers. And he has a name. You're the fucking Guard-Captain now."

Aveline showed her hands in peace, though her face suggested Hawke was being too sensitive.

Hawke sighed, folding her hands on the desk. "But… now that we're on the subject…"

Aveline gasped sarcastically. "You fell in love with the sex worker."

"What?" Hawke said flatly, grimacing. "No."

"You fell in love with Fenris."

"Also no."

"Then why am I slapping you this time?" Aveline demanded impatiently.

"I don't know!" Hawke's head fell back. "You were there! I mean urghhh—" she said, hands going in her hair.

"I was there, and… uhm… yeah…" Aveline said flatly.

"Usually, he's so nice and quiet!" Hawke said in frustration. "And then BAM!—'I'm gonna whip my dick out and piss on all of you mages! What's up?'"

"He is a bit mu—" Aveline said.

"I mean if there is a Maker, why did he have to make him be horrible and wear skin-tight leggings?" Hawke went on.

"Well, I don't think that's the important part—" Aveline tried.

"Why don't more men wear skin-tight stuff?" Hawke derailed, very ponderous. "Then I could just get desensitized. Void, I have no problem looking Isabela in the eye. You know why? Because I've seen the shape of Woman literally thousands of times!"

"Because… broader society sees skin-tight as feminine?" Aveline said, getting a headache.

Hawke scoffed, staring at something that wasn't there. "There was nothing feminine about those tree trunks."

Aveline stood up, grabbed a glass from her cabinet and poured her some water.

"What are you doing?" Hawke said, looking up at her.

"You seemed thirsty," Aveline said calmly. "Now should I throw it in your face or can you do that yourself?"

"Nya, nya, nya or can you do that yerself?" Hawke mocked her with a childish grimace.

"Why don't you tell me what's really the problem?" Aveline said, sitting back down and intertwining her fingers on her torso. "Because you go on and on about how it's wrong when men objectify women, and yet here you are, obsessing over a guy's 'tree trunks'."

Hawke chewed on her thumbnail, brooding hypocritically. "Fine. I went to his house."

Aveline mock-gasped.

"And it was… nice."

"The horror."

"I know, right?" Hawke said, chuckling. "I mean at first I thought he was going to offer me wine… then he threw the bottle into the wall."

"Right… like any sane person would…" Aveline said sarcastically.

"But then, it was weird…" Hawke said, pondering.

"Then it was weird?" Aveline said, raising an eyebrow.

"We had like… a real conversation," Hawke said, looking up and leaning back against the chair. "About home, and belonging and…" she said, a grin forming on her face as she started chuckling, "we have this inside joke that we're going to get married because it's just so far from the—"

"Andraste's tits, you're smitten!" Aveline said, chuckling.

Hawke showed her cheek, waiting with a pleading face for righteous impact.

"No… you're past getting slapped," Aveline said with pity. "You need a lobotomy."

"Yeah, probably," Hawke said to herself.

"He's probably at home right now throwing bottles into walls for holding hands with a mage," Aveline said, chuckling.

"I don't know what to do!" Hawke whined. "I feel dirty. Like I actually feel dirty. Like if I were to kiss him, it's like I'd be doing it on my father and sister's graves."

"That's… way past kinky," Aveline said with a disturbed look.

"It's not kinky! It's just torture!" Hawke said, frustrated. "It's just existential torture."

Aveline sighed. "Well, maybe you like him because deep down you understand where he's coming from, and that it's…" she said, thinking as she stared at the wall. "…it's really a major accomplishment for a former elven slave who has been tortured and terrorised and oppressed by a human- and mage-supremacist civilisation to not only…" she said, pondering and gesturing, "…. move on and function in society, but willingly submit to a human mage, albeit professionally, and… almost share his wine?"

Hawke stared at her, her mouth opening.

Aveline waved in front of her face.

"Yeah, uh…" Hawke said, shaking it off. "No, he did get a second bottle. But-but I see what you're saying…"

"And if he likes you, then he's certainly not the big extremist he thinks he is," Aveline said.

"Please," Hawke said, rolling her eyes. "Extremists love their enemies. They're obsessed with them. They have hateful kinky fantasies and shit."

Aveline laughed. "Yes. Holding hands. The most hateful of kinks."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he wants to do more than hold my hand by the smouldering stares he gives me," Hawke said, scoffing.

"Problem solved," Aveline said, shrugging. "You can give up the sex worker and get all the 'impact play' you want for free."

"What?" Hawke said, insulted. "You don't do that with enemies, or strangers, or shady people. You do that with someone you really trust."

"Alright, fine, then just don't do anything," Aveline said tiredly. "Find a new person to fancy."

"Believe me, I'm trying," Hawke said, sighing.

"Well, try harder," Aveline said sternly. "At the end of the day, he has issues."

Hawke scoffed. "Who doesn't?" she said flatly. "My daughter was murdered. You killed your husband. He was a slave."

The way she put it so coldly and emotionlessly worried Aveline. More so because she did the same thing to cope with Wesley's death. She had doubts it was entirely healthy. They both threw themselves into their work, although Hawke took it a step further and flirted with alcoholism.

Aveline sighed. She looked at Wesley's shield resting against a bookcase in the corner. He would have said that if you couldn't stop the inevitable, you could study it, take measures and make the best out of a bad situation.

"Alright, let's be real," Aveline said. "You fancy someone who is dangerous for you, one way or another. If you can't help your feelings, then use your head. Get to know him, give it time, and see if your differences are truly irreconcilable. Then you will have peace of mind."

Hawke frowned, thinking. "And what if they are?"

"Right now, it's all in the air. You don't really know him. You only know a façade," Aveline said. "But once he's no longer a mystery, and it's clear there's no future for you…" She shrugged, speaking softly, "You will walk away on your own."

"I hope so," Hawke said grumpily.

"See? This is the problem," Aveline said, laughing. "You're not you right now. You're a whiny little girl."

"The big scary girl is my façade," Hawke said.

"I don't believe that," Aveline said. "You're strong, you're thoughtful and you love your family. You're Hawke. She will make the right decision."

Evening, The Markham Arena

"We had differences," Fenris said, rolling his eyes. "I didn't 'hate' you."

"Aww," Hawke said, brushing his arm. "Yeah, I hated him," she said with a smile towards Bull, who laughed.

Another unimpressive fight came. Bull and Hawke exchanged wacky adventure stories. Then she tried getting advice with the Qunari situation in Kirkwall, but Bull was extremely unhelpful. Much like Fenris and the Arishok, the same story came out of his mouth—that it was a small fleet, devoid of any re-educators, so they did not come to conquer or convert. That it was all 'fine'.

Fenris, in the meantime, had gone very quiet.

"Something the matter?" she said.

"I'm fine," he said coldly.

She looked at him. "'Kay."

Everyone was full of bullshit!

Some more time passed. He wasn't watching the game. He was brooding.

"You don't seem fine," she whispered.

He did not speak.

She poked him.

Nothing.

She poked him again.

Still nothing.

She tried to poke him again, but he gave her a terrible glower.

"Did I upset you?" she whispered.

He watched the game, ignoring her.

"That's a yes," she said to herself.

The next game was afoot. Croaker vs. Trevelyan Terror. This one was truly riveting. The flame of the torches glowed in the simple silver armour of the Croaker clashing against the ornate obsidian and red velvet of Trevelyan Terror. Croaker had a much harder time getting a hit against this blocking menace.

"Damn, she's good," Hawke said.

Bull scoffed. "One hit in the sternum and she's done for. Why noblewomen willingly make themselves anatomical breastplates is beyond me."

"To celebrate the female form?" Hawke said with half-lidded eyes.

"Leave a little to the imagination," Bull said condescendingly.

Hawke scoffed, looking at the others. "Said the guy with his tits out."

Bull grunted, while Krem laughed. "She's got you there, chief."

The crowd gasped as Croaker kneed Trevelyan Terror in her unprotected crotch.

"What an arsehole," Fenris said.

"He is no gentleman," Donnic said.

"This is a stadium, not a ballroom," Aveline said.

"This is why, to this day, Fenris has never won a duel against me," Hawke said proudly.

Fenris frowned suddenly. "I object," he said, his flat hand hovering. "I do not keep losing to you because I have a deep-seated psychological instinct to go easy on women," he said, then scanned Hawke up and down, "or… women-adjacent people."

She laughed. "Alright. So, I'm just better than you."

"No… no…." Fenris said, gesturing with his brooding flat hand. "I am not saying that..."

"What are you saying then?" Hawke said, amused.

Fenris shrugged. "Maybe I keep losing to you because…" he said, widening his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't know," he said, his eyes falling halfway on her. "You're pretty?"

Hawke guffawed, while Aveline asked with a chuckle, "How's that not the same thing?"

"It's not…" Fenris insisted, pondering his answer. "Because… because," he said proudly, his index finger at the ready. "Even if she were a man, he'd still be pretty."

Hawke closed her eyes towards the others and smiled with a hand on her chest, as if he was such a flatterer.

"So just to be clear," Donnic said, while Aveline laughed. "In either case, you'd be losing?"

Fenris closed his mouth, staring into nothingness. "No comment."

"I don't know," Aveline said, leaning back comfortably. "You're quite pretty. How come she always wins?"

"I'm not pretty," Fenris said sharply. "I'm handsome."

"And modest," Donnic said, chuckling. "The whole package."

Fenris scoffed, his arm bending against his thigh. "I know my worth."

"Only makes me fight harder," Hawke said with a grin.

"So, my problem is willpower, not skill," Fenris concluded.

"Either way, you should keep practising," Hawke flirted with a wink.

Fenris grinned towards Donnic, jaw in hand.

Donnic laughed. "Sounds like when he loses, he wins."

Hawke's smile died. "Hey, I thought I came up with that," she whined.

Fenris pinched her bangs quickly, condescendingly.

"Rats," Hawke said to herself, thinking. "Well, I have the lead in duelling and willpower. I'm alright with that," she said with a smug smile.

"For now…" Fenris said, jaw in hand.

"I'm up for another challenge, baby. Anytime, anywhere," Hawke said vainly. She brushed a finger along her jaw, thinking. "Should be easy now that you've seen what's underneath, no?"

"Oof. You fight dirty," Donnic said to himself.

"Fighting? Flirting?" Hawke said, amused. "They're synonymous to me."

"Wait… So, you were flirting with that dwarf," Fenris said suddenly, rapt in thought.

Aveline frowned at him, Donnic's wide eyes screamed, 'Why? Just… why?', while Hawke seemed lost.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't care if she was. I just care to know if I was right," Fenris said.

"Right, because that's what's important…" Aveline said sarcastically.

Hawke raised her hands and shaped a circle in the air. "What dwarf?"

"At Varric's birthday party."

"Varric had a birthday party?"

"Yes… at the end of summer..."

"Oh. Duh. We're both born in the summer."

"You went out for a duel with a dwarf."

"I don't remember any dwarf."

"How can you not remember?

"Do you expect me to remember everything I say or do?" Hawke said, laughing.

"Not everything, but—" he said, looking a little hurt.

"Well, maybe that dwarf meant more to you than to me," she said, raising her palms in peace.

They continued watching the game. Trevelyan Terror had disarmed the Croaker, and he had fifty seconds to regain his sword or disarm his opponent.

"So, you… don't remember that night?" Fenris said quietly.

"Vaguely…" Hawke said, squinting on eye.

Fenris glowered. "You don't remember us almost…?"

Hawke rubbed her neck. "I remember getting a little physical, but like…" she said, shrugging. "It was… you know… whatever."

Fenris stared at her. "Whatever?" he said.

"Well, not whatever. But—" Hawke said, shrugging.

"Whatever," Fenris said flatly, looking away.

Hawke scratched her head. "Why don't we talk about this later, when there aren't ten thousand people around?" she offered.

"Whatever," Fenris said, blinking tiredly.

Croaker had regained his sword, barely. He was about to be slashed to pieces on the ground, but he parried with his sword and kicked Trevelyan's shield off.

In the meantime, Fenris took off his apron and pulled up his jumper sleeves.

Trevelyan twisted his wrist and disarmed him again. Croaker blocked her, grabbed her shield and stood up. He made a weird turn and thrust the shield in her arm, veering it down against her gauntlet and off it came, sword and all. In the looming countdown, Trevelyan side-stepped and tried to regain her sword, when Croaker started shouting:

"Fault! She has a magic ring!"

"In a shocking turn of events, a noble of esteemed House Trevelyan has broken the Grand Tourney rules by sneaking in a magic ring!" a commentator said excitedly.

"It's always the fucking nobles," Bull complained.

"I was searched five times before I was let through the game door, and the 'esteemed noble of House Trevelyan' wasn't even checked once?" the Croaker said passionately. "I demand satisfaction!"

Trevelyan came down on one knee, lowering her head and holding her sword against the ground.

"Trevelyan Terror is disqualified! The elven gentleman demands satisfaction!" another commentator said, as Croaker approached the kneeling knight.

"He's not going to kill her, is he?" Fenris said abruptly.

"This isn't the Storm Age," Aveline said. "The worst thing she will lose is her reputation."

"Or her sword," Bull said unhappily, crossing his arms. "They always go for the sword."

Croaker shook his finger when Trevelyan presented her sword. He pointed at her chest.

"What is happening?" Fenris said, a little agitated.

"He wants her armour," Aveline explained, as Trevelyan started unstrapping her breastplate.

"What use can he get out of that?" Fenris said angrily.

"I don't know. Maybe he has a wife or a sister in need of new armour," Hawke said nonchalantly.

Trevelyan took off her breastplate and presented it to the Croaker, now a thin, trembling woman.

"I have to get out of here," Fenris said.

Like lightning, he came up, tripped through Bull and Krem, and up he went.

"Wait!" Hawke shouted, going after him. "What happened back there?"

He didn't even seem to hear her.

She caught up to him, and he was breathless. "Fen Fen—" she said, taking him by the hand.

This was a mistake.

Immediately, his markings became blue and he shoved her hand away. "Don't touch me, witch!" he yelled in the most terrifying tone.

Hawke's eyes doubled in size, her wrist trembling against her chest.

"Oh, no you won't!" Aveline growled, suddenly behind her. She twisted his arms at the back.

"Stop touching me!" Fenris yelled at her, thrashing against her.

"Alright, up we go," Bull said out of nowhere, picking Fenris up over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing and going up to the main entrance.

"Just stop touching him!" Hawke shouted, flailing her hands in agitation.

"Are you okay?" Donnic said softly, touching her back.

No.

"Did he hurt you?" Krem said, catching up.

Physically? Not really. Emotionally? That word cut her like a knife.

"I'm fine," Hawke said, rushing to follow them.

Bull was too fast, even with Fenris's hand inside his back.

"Put me down or I'll fucking do it!" Fenris's growls echoed through the garden.

"No, you won't, because you're not that stupid," Bull said, his voice cracking here and there. "I'm gonna put you down on this bench, okay?"

So, he did, and Fenris took his hand out. Hawke and the rest caught up. Fenris's hand went over his chest, and he was hyperventilating.

"Look at me," Bull said, kneeling to be at eye level. "This is a flashback. Nothing bad is actually happening. Hey, look at me," he commanded.

Fenris met his eyes.

"I want you to tell me five things you see," Bull said.

"What?" Fenris said with a grimace, catching his breath.

"Five things you can see. Tell me," Bull repeated.

"A…" Fenris stammered. "Horns. Eyepatch," he said tersely. He looked beyond him. "Pavilion. Lake. Stars."

His voice went down a level, so Hawke sat on the bench next to him, at a distance.

"Now tell me four things you can touch," Bull said.

Fenris touched the bench, then his leggings. "Wood. Cotton…" he said, brushing his bangs. "Hair." He caught his right wrist, his eyes becoming sad. "Red band," he said, a flash of pain over his face.

"You're doing well," Hawke said softly.

Fenris looked at her, and quickly averted his gaze. His hand went very awkwardly over hers on the bench. "Adora."

"Now three things you can hear," Bull said.

"Crowds cheering. The wind in the trees. My… own voice?" Fenris said unsurely.

"Now two things you can smell," Bull said.

"Well, you stink of ale," Fenris said, chuckling.

Bull laughed. "Good. And?"

"And uh…" Fenris said, chuckling and concentrating. "The water lilies."

"Whoa, night-blooming water lilies," Donnic said, about to leave for them.

"Not the time," Aveline said sharply, yanking him back by the arm.

"Now one thing you can taste," Bull said.

"Betrayal," Fenris said flatly.

Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that was a little dramatic, but I'll take it," Bull said, chuckling. "How are you feeling now?"

Fenris gave a big exhale. "Real."

"Great stuff," Bull said, standing up. "You had one hell of a flashback. Seheron, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah…" Fenris lied, rubbing the back of his neck. "The… war and everything."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Bull said. "I still wake up in sweat and tears sometimes."

"That was a really good trick. Where did you learn that?" Hawke said.

"A Tamassran taught me," Bull said, a bitter smile creeping up his face. "In another life."

"That'd be really useful to teach Guards," Donnic said, taking his notepad out. "How did it go again?"