Far in the distance, the great, dark shape of Adamant Fortress loomed, but Ella Hawke was trying her best not to focus on what the Inquisition might find when they stormed its ramparts. After their battle with the corrupted Wardens at the ritual tower, she was certain it wasn't going to be pretty, and dwelling on the possibilities wouldn't change anything. Still, it was hard for the Champion to get the worst case scenarios out of her head, and so she was grateful when the (much) taller woman walking beside her broke the silence.

"So, Hawke," Herah began, "I was wondering something about you and Merrill…"

The mage smiled at the cautious question, showing that bright, winning smile that so many people had followed over the years. "Go on," she urged the qunari, "Ask away."

"I was curious what it was like being in a relationship with somebody under your command. I mean, it feels like it could it be a distraction in a fight."

Hawke's smiles turned more mischievous. "Why do I suspect that question isn't entirely academic?", she asked. "Is there someone in the Inquisition you have your eye on? Maybe a certain blonde elf?" The Champion's gaze turned down the columns of soldiers to where Sera was walking with Blackwall, laughing demonstratively at some joke of the Warden's.

"I guess I'm not that hard to read, am I?", Herah conceded with a shrug. "Yeah, I do like her. And the thing is, I'm not the kind of person who usually wastes a lot of time angsting about that stuff. Life is short, right? Except it doesn't seem as easy now that I'm the one in charge, making the life and death decisions for everyone else."

"You're not wrong," Hawke agreed, her expression turning somber. "It can be hard, going into battle leading somebody you care about that way. I remember when we were trapped in Corypheus' prison, I was scared to death for Merrill, a lot more than for myself. But those feelings can also be a source of strength. Nothing makes us fight harder than the people we love. Besides, even if you steer clear of romance, that doesn't mean your decisions are going to be easy. Most of the people who followed me were my friends and I can tell you've made some here yourself. That can complicate things too."

"True enough," the qunari conceded dejectedly, a frown appearing on her face. "Nothing else up until now has been simple. Why should love be any different?"

"For what it's worth," Hawke offered, "I can definitely see what you like about her. Of course," she added with a wink, "I always did like them slim and a bit dangerous."

That comment got the desired laugh out of Herah, the qunari's gloom seeming to lift a bit. "A bit dangerous?", she asked incredulously. "Varric makes Merrill sound like a real kitten."

"That's what he used to call her," Hawke agreed, "But even kittens have claws." That, and a darkness that the Champion had almost lost her beloved to. For years, their worst arguments had been over Merrill's use of blood magic and her obsession with that damned mirror and it was only when those things had cost her the life of the Keeper and what was left of her relationship with her clan that the elf had finally pulled back from the edge.

"Besides," the Champion added, "Who says Merrill was the only one I was talking about?"

"Really?" Herah raised an eyebrow in mock shock. "I want details."

"I guess there's a few stories Varric didn't tell you," Hawke quipped. "Of course, this one was a little before his time anyway. When my family first got to Kirkwall, the city was overwhelmed by all the refugees fleeing the Blight and they stopped taking people in. The only way to get around that was with money or connections, and since we didn't have either of them, we had to get sponsored by someone who did. My uncle got my brother and I jobs working for an elven smuggler named Aethenril who fit the bill."

Aethenril was pushed against the wall of the warehouse, her pants around her ankles while her shirt was hiked up far enough to reveal her pert breasts, allowing the mage pressed up behind her easy access to her body. At least for now, Hawke was the one calling the shots. It was a dangerous line to walk with her employer, but as far as she was concerned, that only made what they were doing all the more thrilling.

One hand roughly tweaked the elf's pierced nipple, while the other worked it's way inside her smalls, finding her enticingly wet to the touch. Hawke's fingers slid everywhere but where Aethenril wanted them most, gliding over her folds but avoiding the throbbing clitoris nestled between them.

"Fucking get on with it, Hawke," the smuggler growled, her narrow hips bucking desperately as she tried to get the contact she was craving.

"Since you asked so nicely." Hawke's fingers slid upward and even as they hovered above her lover's core, the tiniest flicker of magic appeared around them. At the unexpected stimulation of her most sensitive point, Aethenril cried out, and Hawke pressed down hard. Her teeth sank into the elf's neck as she felt the smuggler writhe in the grip of her first, sudden climax of the evening. Hawke might have been the indentured servant but in that moment, Aethenril was undeniably hers.

"It wasn't the kind of arrangement that could've lasted long-term," she commented, a sly, suggestive smile masking the heat of her remembered arousal, "But it definitely had its benefits while it lasted." Between her legs, the Champion's sex throbbed, and she tried not to think about how long it had been since she'd had a night like that one. She might have left Merrill out of this mess with the Wardens for the sake of the elf's safety, but right then, she sorely wished that her lover, rather than another session with her own hand awaited her before the coming battle.

"I've been there," Herah told her, her voice keeping the Champion's thoughts from drifting too far into her sexual frustration. "There was this merchant's daughter in Denerim I had a thing with once… all the sparks in the world, not to mention this long, luscious black hair I loved, but I think we'd have ended up burning half the city down if my company hadn't hired out when we did"

"What about Sera?", Hawke asked, "Do you think she's feeling the sparks?"

"Definitely," the Inquisitor told her. "Although…"

Hawke tilted her head curiously. "Although what?"

"She's being a little coy about the whole thing, saying she wants us to get to know each other better before we get too involved. I don't really mind, but it's not exactly her usual style."

A smug grin covered now covered almost the whole of the mage's pretty face. "Oh, you, my friend," she informed Herah, "Are in trouble."

The Inquisitor seemed confused by that. "What do you mean?"

"When the blunt ones start putting you off," the mage laughed, "It means one of two things. Either she's not interested…"

"She's interested," Herah insisted once more. "I've been turned down enough times to know if that's what was going on, thank you very much."

"Well then," Hawke declared, "There's only one other possibility. She's changing it up because she really likes you."

Herah laughed long and hard, seemingly untroubled by the prospect. "You may be right, Hawke," she agreed, "But I guess I'll just have to wait and see."