Hawke held out his hand, the heavy rain pelted down onto his palm. A rumble of thunder growled over head. He always had an attraction to rain. To the storms that came and went. Something about them made him wonder under the clouds wanting to travel with them to somewhere that was calling. But that feeling dulled and disappeared whenever he was with Anders. When it first happened in Kirkwall he had seen the mage crouched outside of a building holding his coat up over a cat that started to give birth on her way home. He eased the small black and white beast and cooed reassuring words that only the rain could hear.

The second time was when he had been drunk. So drunk he was pretty sure Varric's stories had all been chantry truth and was sent home by the dwarf. He had stumbled his way around, humming listening to the sounds of the storm, sometimes skipping and letting out fun hollers all out of the means of making merry. "Hawke?" the voice stopped him and he stumbled a little turning to look and finding Anders who had just left the alienage. "What are you doing out here? Kirkwall rain is not something you want to be out in."

"Why?" He had asked.

"The pollution for the city makes the rain... unagreeable with most bodies."

Hawke waved his hand in a dismissive manner, "Ppppft, I'm fine."

"You're drunk."

"I'm that too. Hey, did you know that Varric single handedly ripped the heart out of a genlock once? I was there too and I snapped an ogre's neck with just my thighs!" Hawke looked down at his legs and bent his knees, "I didn't think I was that strong."

Anders laughed at this. He smiled at his friend and shook his head. "Next time you go drinking I should go with you, if you are like this when you are drunk." His grin died when he noticed Hawke looking at him with the most peculiar expression. "What?"

"You have a wonderful laugh." He smiled like a dope.

Anders blushed and took a step back. "I-... thank you Hawke."

"Garrett."

"Excuse me?"

"My first name is Garrett. You'll have to get used to calling me that."

The mage's brows knitted together in confusion. What an odd thing to say. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you make it stop."

Anders had not said much else after that, merely excused himself and Hawke looked up at the sky feeling the tug of needing to travel go in Anders' direction. He didn't though, but he knew then, the mage was his destination. The goal of his life would be met once he got to settle down with that wonderful blond. But not in Kirkwall, he didn't want dirty rain to bless them for the rest of their lives together.

"Garrett?" Anders' voice pulled him out of his memories. "You have that look again."

He smiled pulled the mage out into the rain. Eventually he told Anders of his strange needs and wants. The mage took it well and believed it was a kind of fate fixed into place that they were to meet.

Hawke placed an arm around Anders' waist the other gripping his hand off to the side and started to dance with his lover in the middle of the muddy street. He hummed a familiar tune as his love danced with him in the rain, accustomed to his bouts of strange behavior. He buried his face into the crook of Anders' neck taking in a deep scent. Oh how he smelled so good in this clean, clean rain.

"They're insane." Bofur chuckled from inside the tavern looking out the window at the two dancing outside.

Bilbo watched them with softer eyes. They were perfect together. They moved fluidly, two beings into one. From the silly little dance he could see every bit of their happiness and love and it forced a long breath through his nose in a long sigh. He would never be able to dance with someone like that. Hobbits had very different dances and so did dwarves and he would ask them to teach him the dance only Anders always got sick when Bilbo was around, so he ended up staying away and watching them quickly become friends with all of the company. Hell, Hawke was practically Thorin's best friend now and Bilbo... Bilbo was alone. He just wish he knew why Anders got sick around him.

"Ah, don't let it bother you. He's gotten better, you can at least stay in the same room as one another now." Bofur said knowing exactly what his best friend was thinking.

"Easy for you to say. You get to play that card game they taught you and get to hear all the stories and get to-"

"Now don't start that again." Bofur leaned over the table they were sitting at. "You're just gonna get yourself upset again and then I'll be the one gettin' a thrashin' from Thorin later on."

"I'm going to my room." He got up and shuffled away intent on taking a nap on his bed for once.

Once he got there he was a bit surprised to find Thorin already fast asleep on the bed. Bilbo had already worked himself into a good depression and really didn't care about formalities at the moment. He took off his jacket and waistcoat, folded them neatly and put them to the side. He laid himself on top of the covers next to the dwarf, he closed his eyes and listened to the combination of Thorin's calm breathing and the tapping of rain on the roof. He folded his hands on his stomach and felt at peace. It was easy for him to slip into slumber.

Back outside Anders finally broke their dance and pulled Hawke along. While the mage had a hood up to protect himself from the elements Hawke merrily bounded around in the mud and grass like a hyperactive child. He was used to this, it happened with every storm. It was like a charge for Hawke who specialized in elemental magic.

"Love, could you please focus on finding some elfroot." Anders called out as Hawke slid down a slope.

Hawke saluted him with two fingers and skittered off. Maker, Anders was tempted to head back to the warmth of the tavern. The only thing stopping him was that he indeed needed to find some elfroot. The ointments they have available were low grade things that could barely sooth a bruise. He needed to make a few poultices before they even thought about leaving the town and as it stood they didn't know this world and so they decided to travel with Thorin and his company. For how long that was to be determined later.

It took some time, and some venturing into the woods before he found anything that even looked like elfroot. Luckily it grew in a large cluster of them. He quickly started picking stuffing them into the satchel he had slung over his shoulder.

A strange shiver ran down his back. He was being watched.

Bilbo woke from his nap with his face against soft fabric. He sleepily nuzzled it as he tried to rid himself of being drowsy. There was a warmth on his butt that he was enjoying before it slipped to his waist and he realized it was a hand. He stiffened. Who had been touching his butt? He propped himself up onto his elbow and looked around the room. No one. The arm around him stiffened and he was brought to an all too quick reality. He looked down at Thorin who had just woken up himself.

They stared at each other for a while. It was an odd situation but it wasn't uncomfortable. In fact it took a lot of restraint not to lay right back down and snuggle close. Bilbo moved his eyes from Thorin's locked gaze. Down his shoulder to his broad chest and blushed from the small wet spot caused from him drooling in his sleep.

Thorin sat up, cold filled where his warmth had been. "I apologize, I was asleep."

"I know." Bilbo said softly. His heart thumping in his chest. Oh god how embarrassing! "I.. I'm sorry I drooled on your shirt."

The king chuckled. "I do not mind. The shirt needed washing anyway."

"Thorin?"

"Yes?"

"...I..." He choked on his words. He closed his eyes and saw how happy Hawke and Anders were together. It was so wonderful. It made his Baggins side hurt knowing he would never have something as solid as that, but it left room for the Took to put pressure on him to try.

"What is it?" Thorin asked softly. Bilbo almost didn't hear him from the thunder outside.

"Why have you stopped?"

The dwarf moved to fully face the hobbit. "What do you mean?"

"Trying to.. um.." He licked his lips. How does one just come out and say such things? He decided to just outright say it when a loud bell started to ring. A crier shouted as loud as he could, "Warg! Warg attack!"

Without a word they scrambled off of the bed.

"Shit!" Anders dove as a large beast of a creature lunged at him. He slid on the mud wincing at the sound of a large jaw clamping shut only inches from his back. With all the rain and a without a staff fire spells were out of the question. He couldn't risk an ice spell just for the fun fact that he couldn't risk freezing the elfroot. Without a staff to focus his powers through magic had a lovely way of black lashing on the wielder and he had no intentions of becoming an abomination.

He rolled, fist in hand jabbing the creature's jowls with his elbow causing a whimper if it was from him or the massive dog he had no idea. Nevertheless it backed off allowing him to scramble out from under it and run as fast as he could towards the safety of the village. He ducked and wove through the forest trees.

He was cut off by one of the creatures, its head low as it growled. Anders swallowed and gripped the bag with his elfroot. Oh he had a feeling he would be using all of those tonight. It lunged forward, hitting him square in the gut. It flung him into the air a good distance forcing him to land hard on the ground in a roll. He scrambled up to his knees.

Everything slowed as his heart beat hard. A blinding light overtook his vision, it had been a while since he had felt such a sensation. He had almost forgotten the feel of the fade. Having it with him it came second nature like breathing, he never put much thought into it but whenever Justice came out it was a whole new experience that he had let slip from his mind. He sighed and sat down on the strange ground of the fade. Justice was in control, he could use the magic in the body without a staff. He didn't risk turning into an abomination.

Hawke stabbed the dagger in his hand into the warg as many times as he could as it tried to wrap its mouth around anything of him it could get. The teeth came down on his leg right when he found an eye to jab out. The beast threw him on the ground, the dagger lost from Hawke's grip as it had logged in the warg.

He had managed to kill two with the stupid little thing. He was one that didn't like to use his magic unless need be. If he could defend himself by other means he would take it but at the moment he was out of options. He shook his hand feeling the familiar heat of a fireball ebbing into life.

A new Warg came at him. He raised his hand to light it on fire when an arrow shot straight into the head of the creature dropping it in mid-run. He pushed himself up finding Kili reading another arrow a good 80 paces away. He heard the stories but as he watched the archer pluck off the wargs with accuracy he had to be impressed. Charging around the young dwarf were others of Thorin's company including Thorin himself in light clothing as well as some men from the town.

Hawke pulled himself onto his feet. The prickle of a surge of magic came from within the forest he had been skirting. He braced his feet and crossed his arms in front of him before a force push ripped through the battle front. It was powerful enough to knock over a few trees that had been leaning. It threw off the fighters and the wargs alike.

The fight stopped. All attention turned to the forest.

"What in Durin's beard was that?!" Dwalin yelled breaking the tense silence.

Hawke swallowed. He could feel it coming closer, stronger than ever. His mind filled with panic. That magic was not Anders it was something completely different. Something that should not be walking among men.

The growling wargs tucked their tails between their legs, slowly backing away, heckles up higher than when they had attacked. Step by step this thing came closer. Hawke felt his muscles tighten.

Whatever it was. It made the wrags turn and yelp away.