A.N. Update~! Never thought the day would come when I could do this again! *dabs her eyes with a tissue* Allons-y!

Disclaimer: Once more kittens, I don't own Dragon Age or any of the characters therin.

Book securely in hand, her mother staved off for the time being, Hawke dressed for a quick jaunt. It was dangerous traveling alone, she knew, but she needed the air and quiet. So she packed her staff, a number of potions and poisons, and her book. Thankfully the trip to the docks had been uneventful, mostly thanks to Varric's urchins, she knew. Tipping the one she had spotted following her, and asking him to keep watch for her, she slid down the ladder at the end of a pier, just until she was almost in the water, before she swung around it. Along the bottom of the pier were small metal bars which she swung across until she was at the platform just underneath the middle of the pier. Only the urchin she'd tipped knew of her hiding spot, and sat on the side of the pier, his feet dangling over the side so she knew where he was.

She had built the platform herself just after her arrival into Kirkwall, making it large enough to duck into and curl up in with a lamp and a book, but small enough it wasn't submerged during the high tide. Either she had spelled it to be water-proof and to seal should water attempt to come through the entrance. The result was her own little haven on the water.

She'd been here many times over the years, and had brought cushions and blankets to make her haven more comfortable. She knew the urchin used it as a home and didn't mind in the least bit; in fact she often left food behind for him. The two had grown a close, silent relationship. He was mute by an act of cruelty, and she was silent by nature. As a result they simply looked out for each other. And so, guarded by one of the boys she trusted most, Hawke settled into the cushions and opened the book to the first page. She found a dedication in there that made her heart clench.

"To my favorite bird of prey. May your wings never be clipped and your skies be forever clear." She quickly turned the page, her eyes watering. The dwarf cared for her, that much was obvious, though clearly not as much as she cared for him. Hawke had been staving off suitors, ripping up invitations to parties and overall hiding from the men her mother had been inviting for one reason: She was already in love. It was just never to be. She was a human mage – an apostate at that – and he was a dwarf. One that was still in love with the memory of the woman named Bianca.

The sun was setting, not that that mattered to Hawke, but the urchin would likely be cold. She glanced out of the little shelter before sending the smallest of flames under his feet. Just enough to warm him and draw his attention, and not harm him. Sure enough, the little feet disappeared and an eye peered into the hole. Hawke gestured for him to come down, smiling. The eye disappeared and the padding of quickly moving feet sounded over her head. Hawke shifted to the side to allow the boy to climb in easily, and patted the cushion next to her when he did arrive.

"I figured it was cold out there, and that you could use some food and warmth for a bit." The boy lowered his eyes and smiled shyly before nodding and climbing in carefully. She passed him some of the bread and cheese she'd packed, much to his apparent delight, and lit the lamp that swung gently overhead. He sank into the cushions and quickly fell asleep, snoring gently as she read on, enthralled by Varric's words. She could almost hear him whispering them in her ear.

That was right about when she found the smut. Such things weren't uncommon in Varric's book, indeed, most of them were based around his plans for smut. This one, however, had Hawke staring at one word. Well, a name rather. And as the dwarf leaned in to kiss the sleeping mage's silken and plump lips, he whispered her name adoringly. "Hawke…" She almost shut the book, she almost threw it into the water and attempt to wipe her memory clean of that sentence, but something made her continue on. That wasn't the only apparent typo. The eager dwarf latched onto the moaning mage's breast, suckling her even as she breathlessly moaned his name. "Varric, please, don't stop." Those were the only two typo's throughout the scene, that she could see, but it was enough to have her staring at them, her mind racing. What could this mean? Could this mean… could he feel the same for her? She gently closed the book, having slid a bookmark in place. She saw the boy wake and stare at her sleepily.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll sleep here tonight." She whispered, distress wrecking havoc on her voice. The boy nodded instantly and offered her a blanket. Murmuring her thanks, and silently casting a spell to ward off any crawlies, Hawke curled into the pillows and fell into an uneasy sleep that not even the sound of waves could soothe.

Varric, in the meantime, was frantically searching every nook and cranny that he knew of to find Hawke, the letter from his editor clutched in his fist.

Varric,

After some re-review of your book 'Mystic Stone' I'd noticed a couple of errors I had missed before. Nothing major, of course, simply two wrong names. You accidentally wrote yourself and a woman named 'Hawke' into the first paragraph of the first love scene. Worry not as, the error has been rectified for further editions.

Yours Sincerely

Allan Stoneheart,

Orzimmar Printing Services.

Maker! Of all the things to fuck up, of all the mishaps overlooked, of anything that could have gone so terribly wrong! And he couldn't even find her to explain – or make up and explanation! Anger he could deal with, soothe even. Hurt, he could try to heal over time. But what if she never forgave him? What if she hated him for not just coming out and admitting he was in love with the human mage? Maker knows she'd given him opportunity after opportunity, hope evident in those gorgeous eyes. But he couldn't, no he wouldn't, let her settle with him; not when there were rich and handsome human men lining up for her attention. He leaned against a building, panting from jogging all over the place with no sign from her.

"Hawke… where ARE you?"