The thing that bugged me when doing this quest in-game was that any other love interest got kidnapped, but if you were in a romantic relationship with Sebastian, he was left alone. I've missed writing these two! I need to go back and refresh my memory, because I have several half-written snippets and jotted down story ideas saved up that need to be fleshed out.
While Sebastian didn't serve the Chantry in any official capacity, he still enjoyed attending as often as possible. The Chant, the pace of the service, the smell of the incense burning…it all served to calm his mind and ease his spirit. He normally rose in time to attend the sunrise services, even though as of late Sebastian was often too bleary-eyed and groggy to fully appreciate it. For once, he had actually overslept; he, Elsa and Aveline had spent much of the night patrolling Lowtown to see if they had ridded the area of the latest criminal element to pop up. It had been Aveline's actual watch, but Elsa had a soft spot for the people that lived there. And of course, Sebastian wasn't going to allow her to wander the streets alone, no matter how capable he knew her to be. At the end of it all, they had nipped into the Hanged Man and enjoyed a round or two of cards with Varric, followed by a round or two (or three; Sebastian had lost count) of Varric's fine supply of brandy. By the time that they had stumbled home - Aveline escorting them the entire way and tisking in such a manner that he was suddenly reminded of his own mother – they barely had any energy left to shuck their armor and sprawl out in bed before sleep took them.
The fact that the two of them collapsed into their marital bed more often than not out of sheer exhaustion from fighting the local criminal element instead of exhausting themselves in a far more satisfying manner was not lost upon him. He knew that helping to keep the population of Kirkwall safe at night was its own reward, but damned if he didn't wish for more time to properly please his new bride.
Sebastian winced as the Chantry bells began to toll. The mild hangover he was nursing made everything far too loud and bright and he hoped that attending despite his condition would count as seeking penance for overindulging. Elsa would have normally been at his side, but she had rolled over and burrowed her face into the pillow when he began to rise. She'd mumbled something against his skin about meeting Varric and Fenris in order to run an errand back down in Lowtown, pouting when he slid out of bed in such a way that made him want to crawl back under the covers and stay there all day with her.
She had been dressing in her armor when he came out of the bathing chamber, the standing water and the damp towel neatly draped over the basin nearby telling him that she was in too much of a rush to meet their friends to take a proper bath. She'd kissed him sweetly and promised that she'd be back in time to join him for evening prayers before slipping out the door, whistling for Liam, her Mabari, as she went.
And now he was peacefully strolling down a blessedly shady alley back to Elsa's…no, back to their estate and daydreaming about how much he was looking forward to seeing her when someone called out his name. He turned, thinking it to be one of the other parishioners or perhaps even Donnic when a fist flew at his face. It all happened so suddenly that he never got a good look at who had attacked. Reflexes took over and he blindly struck out, his knuckles catching on a whiskered jaw and scraping along teeth. He quickly pivoted, but his attacker apparently had an accomplice. A burlap sack was shoved over his head and his arms were pinned at his sides. He cried out, struggling with all his might, but then the tip of a blade nicked his neck. He felt the cool press of fingers against the cut, heard someone utter something he couldn't quite make out, and then darkness.
The next thing he knew, he smelled the briny sea air of the Wounded Coast and felt gritty sand underneath the side of his face. Whatever spell that had been cast had immobilized him. He was aware of his surroundings, but only barely. Even though the sack had been taken off, he saw things as if through a dirty windowpane and heard other things as if someone had stuffed his ears full of cotton. He would have panicked, but he recognized the distinct sound of Elsa's voice somewhere in front of him. He might not be able to understand what she was saying, but he understood the tone she was using. Oh, but she was angry. Furious, more like. There was an extremely brief battle that had died down before it had really began and then Elsa was beside him, her hands gentle as she rolled him to his side and pulled his head onto her lap. Her back was to everyone else, making him the only one privy to the look of sheer fright in her eyes. He wanted to do something to wipe it away, but then she took a few deep breaths to compose herself before turning her head to speak to the others. He probably should have been paying attention to the muffled conversation around him, but he couldn't, not when Elsa's fingers were gently running through his hair and stroking his cheek.
As quickly as it had been cast, the spell was broken, a young mage kneeling beside them and holding a piece of cloth over a fresh cut on his palm. Elsa helped Sebastian to his feet and he half-expected her to withdraw and keep a respectable distance between them like she normally did whenever anyone else was around - while she was normally affectionate in public when there was no one save for their close friends around to see, she tended to be a bit standoffish in front of strangers or those who only knew her in a professional manner – but she held onto him despite their Templar audience, her hand sliding into his and her fingers squeezing tightly almost to the point of discomfort. They stayed that way, hand in hand, the entire trip back into Kirkwall.
That had been hours ago. After thanking Cullen for his timely involvement and being assured that the boy who had freed Sebastian wouldn't be persecuted for being forced into blood magic, their usual group dispersed back to the barracks, the Hanged Man, and their crumbling mansions in Hightown. Alone, the two of them found themselves standing in the main hall of their home, Elsa facing the fireplace with her back to him. She hadn't said much on the way back and he was hesitant to say anything until he knew just what sort of mood she was in.
"They took you as bait," she finally said, her voice quiet. "They hurt you to get to me."
"And you came for me, as I had faith you would," he carefully replied. It seemed to be the wrong thing to say; her shoulders tensed and she seemed to pull herself inwards.
"You should go to the Chantry." Her tone was empty and hollow, something that he'd never heard from her before.
He shook his head. "I think we can miss the evening services after everything that went on today."
She took a shuddering breath, her shoulders sagging as if in defeat. "No. I meant that you should go to the Chantry and not come back. It's far too dangerous…I'm far too dangerous for you."
Sebastian frowned. "So after one brief scuffle, you're ready to be done with me, is that it? Someone used me to get to you and you've decided that you'll not have me any longer?"
Elsa turned from the fireplace and he took a step forward when he saw the pained expression on her face, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. "Don't you understand, Vael? Everyone that I've ever loved has died because of me. I wasn't fast enough to save Carver in Lothering and Bethany would still be alive if I hadn't brought her with me into the Deep Roads. I couldn't even protect Mother from what that monster did to her. And now I nearly…" Her breath hitched and she reached out to him, her hands shaking as they sought out his. "I could have lost you today. Seeing you lying there and not knowing if you were alive was one of the most terrifying experiences that I've gone through. I can put some distance between us; leaving me means that you'll be safe."
Sebastian leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "You've thought this out on our walk back, haven't you?" She didn't answer him, just simply nodded, her face contorted in despair. "Well, there's one thing that you haven't accounted for. I love you, Elsa. I mean to marry you properly, to live by your side and raise our children with you, Maker willing. Don't you understand, Hawke: it doesn't matter how hard you push me away or how far you run, I will always follow."
He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her chin up. "The vows state for better or for worse for a reason. I'll not let death threats or the chance of becoming a hostage again stand between us."
She let out a sob before biting her lip. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you. I love you so much, I…"
He bent his head and kissed her. "None of us know how long we have here on this world," he murmured, holding her close. "If we spend our lives in fear, we'll have wasted time that we could have actually spent living." He would have kissed her again, but she beat him to it, her fingers threading into his hair as she stood on the tips of her toes to better align their bodies. He hadn't been wearing his usual gear at the time of his abduction, so the hard bite of leather and metal from Elsa's armor pressed against his clothes. He didn't care; he scooped her up in his arms and made his way up the flight of stairs to their bedroom. Elsa clung to him, even after he gently set her on her feet. It did something to him to see the woman that was normally the rock that everyone else hung onto in dire times finally break down. He felt a fierce need to protect her and an even stronger desire to wipe all traces of fear from her eyes. Armor and clothes were shed, Sebastian faintly smiling against her mouth at the number of knives, hidden or otherwise, that Elsa managed to carry on her. Somehow the both of them landed in a tangled heap on the bed, Elsa embracing him as if he'd disappear if she let go. She turned the side of her face against the pillows and gasped when the move allowed Sebastian to scrape his teeth against her bared throat, his body joining to hers as easily as if they had always been two halves of a whole.
"Look at me," he rasped, threading his fingers in her hair and tipping her face back towards him, never once changing the slow and steady pace he'd set for them. He bent his head and kissed her, Elsa's short nails leaving faint indentions on his biceps. Waiting until he saw her half-lidded eyes staring up at him, he framed her face with his hands and ran his thumbs over her cheeks. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he vowed.
He didn't know if it was his promise or the fact that she had already been close, but her back bowed and her mouth opened on a wordless cry. Her release triggered his own, his arms giving out on him as he buried his face against the crook of her neck, her soft skin muffling his shout. They lay like that for a long time before he finally found the strength to turn onto his side, tucking Elsa snugly against him. She wrapped her leg over his hip, her toes brushing the back of his thigh, and lightly ran her fingers through the hair at his chest.
"You really mean that, don't you?" she asked quietly, her mouth against his throat. "You'll never leave me, even if I push you away?"
He tilted her face up so he could look her in the eye. "Never. And I hope to never give you reason to run in the first place." He stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "For better or for worse, remember?"
She splayed her hand against his ribs. "I'll never run from you, Vael," she promised, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Not now, not ever."
He turned his head to kiss her properly. "I'll be holding you to that, my heart." He nudged her nose with his affectionately. "Besides, if you ever do go where I canna follow, I'll just take another path until I meet up with you again."
She smiled. "Is that so?"
"Aye, it is. I'm stubborn like that, didn't you know?"
Elsa curled even closer to him and closed her eyes. "And for that," she said, listening to the comforting beat of his heart at her ear. "I am incredibly grateful."