"Ohhh," Hawke groaned, throwing herself onto the bed as Varric stooped to tie his boots. "Hightown is really quiet dull, you know."

"Just need to know the right places to go," he replied, jerking the straps.

Laying an arm over her face, Hawke asked, "And of course you would know where to go?"

"I might have a few ideas," he smirked, getting up to walk away.

Scooting off his bed, Hawke followed on light steps as he went and finished the glass on the table, "Are you going to tell me, or just hold it over my head?"

"Couldn't if I tried, beautiful," Varric smirked from his lower stature, turning to put a small glass in her hand. "Try that."

Hawke smelled the bluish liquid before downing the shot. Her mouth popped open and she wheezed, raising her brow as she looked down. "There – there's lyrium in there!"

"You never cease to amaze me, Hawke," Varric laughed, taking the glass and sliding it to the other end of the table. There was a burst of activity in the tavern beyond his door, but it went unheeded. "Do you like it?"

"Mm," Hawke smacked her lips, before sucking in a breath. "Of course I do, it feels terribly wrong drinking it."

"Then obviously we should get more," Varric grinned. "For your upcoming party?"

"A party, mmm?" Hawke sat on the end of the table, musing, "Always such a tease, dwarf, out with it."

Varric chuckled and crossed his arms, "How about we go have a little fun?"

Down in the streets, the day waned as the pair made their way to the rooftop of her soon to be home. Hawke crouched beside him and tugged on her leather gloves.

"Going to share your ingenious plan yet?" she arched her brow. "Or leave me wanting as you do far too often."

"I can't help there's not enough of me to go around," Varric chuckled. Shucking a spyglass from his coat, he looked across the square. "One of your new neighbours had a few bottles of blue magus delivered at the end of the month. I was going to obtain them on my own, but I thought you might enjoy the challenge."

"Goodie," Hawke murmured, sitting down on the roof to rewrap a bandage on her forearm.

Varric put the spyglass back in his pocket, smirking, "And that's why we're so good together. I say, let's go rob a place, and you don't ask why, or tell me we have enough gold."

"Should I?" Hawke raised her brow, slowly smiling on her own. "Or should I say how wrong it feels?"

"Only if it's true," he chuckled.

"It is – for a different reason," Hawke said, getting back to her feet. She surveyed the surrounding roofs. "No little sister squeaking for me to stop."

Varric cursed as the tumblers slipped again, and over his shoulder Hawke chided with soft titter. "Laugh it up, Hawke."

"Oh believe me," she whispered. "I am. This should find its way into that book of yours."

"Put your money where your mouth is then," Varric stood up, pushing off the chest to go to the window. He watched the street through the neatly cut hole in the glass. "Five gold."

"Make it ten if you're serious."

"Fine," he grumbled. "But double if you can't."

"Ye of little faith," Hawke waggled her brow and slipped the pin from her wrist. Turning the tensile rod, she closed her eyes, "With my eyes closed, just for you."

"Bullshit."

Soon enough there were the successive clips, and Hawke hummed in delight, flipping open the chest, "Worry not, my dear dwarf. I will not let it beyond this room."

"Flames," he muttered, pulling the coin from his purse to throw her way. She stooped to retrieve them, when there were sound deeper in the house. They both froze.

Hawke sunk against the wall, moving to the door to eavesdrop. Slipping out her dagger, she pointed at the chest, "Take it and get out."

"I'm not just leaving you here," he replied, stooping to get the goods none the less.

"You need to escape with what's important," Hawke's lips quirked. There were voices down the hall. "Go! I'm right behind you."

Grumbling, Varric pushed open the window, and from the balcony, Hawke hoisted him onto the roof. In the process, she tipped too far over the railing and tumbled down the trellis. A potted plant broke her fall, quite literally. From the roof, Varric looked down, and Hawke frantically signalled him to escape. She struggled to her feet with a limp, trying to look casual.

"Mistress Hawke," a voice came from behind.

Hawke turned, thinly smiling before she said, "Your highness. What a pleasant surprise."

"A surprise indeed," Sebastian replied with a sad smile. "And please, I am but a brother in the Maker's service. Simply Sebastian. I have not often see you within Hightown before - though I am led to believe I will see you more?"

"They are not rumours, I assure you, simply Sebastian," Hawke lightly chuckled, following as he continued walking. She struggled not to limp.

"Where does your business take you this day?"

"I was just... heading to the Chantry, of course," Hawke looked down, clearing her throat subtly. She glanced back over her shoulder, scanning the rooftops before adding, "I had heard you found information on the people who betrayed your family."

"May the Blessed Andraste guard them," Sebastian answered, touching the amulet hanging around his neck. "Though some days I fear it is just smoke and shadow that bars the way, I have faith that His light will shine and show me the way."

Hawke sucked a breath through her teeth, forcing a smile as she limped again, "It does seem to do that."

Sebastian chuckled and smiled at her, and she was oblivious to his gaze as they walked. He shook his head before saying, "Excuse my impropriety, would it be alright if I walked with you?"

Almost laughing, Hawke grinned and said, "And what would you do if I said no?"

Stopping, Sebastian looked down, "I would not wish to intrude, serah."

"Honestly," Hawke was glib, "What do they do to you within there?"

"Pardon?" He furrowed his brow.

"You are far too polite to a mercenary you hired to exact justice in your name," she replied, pursing her lips. "What would you do if I left you naked in the street?"

"I-" Sebastian stopped walking, laughing nervously. "Milady, I-"

"Ohh relax," Hawke replied, leaning against the wall to take the weight off her leg. "Far too much work, and I'm not sure that's the kind of attention I want."

Sebastian cleared his throat, clasping his hands together behind him as he looked back at her. He turned towards the steps of the chantry, stopping again when she didn't follow, "Are you not coming, milady?"

Hawke smiled apologetically, "Drats, don't you know that I have just remembered - the guard captain had asked me to fetch three goats and a sheaf of wheat."

"Whatever for?" Sebastian laughed lightly, but Hawke was already limping away.

"Negotiations - very important!" she called out, raising a hand in farewell. "Give my best to the Maker and his Bride. They look wonderful together!"

"You know what I like about you, Anders?"

"Dare I ask?" he murmured as lanced a wound closed. He didn't look at Hawke as she peered at the bloody cut.

"I always know where to find you," she replied. "What? Did you think I was going to say something perverse?"

"I'm almost disappointed you didn't," he said, moving away to gather a poultice. He pressed it into the young woman's hand. "Put that on tomorrow, and come see me if it smells oddly or swells."

"Thank you so much, messere," she replied, taking his hand.

"Take care, miss," he said, and saw her out the door. Anders paused in the doorway, looking to where the daylight streamed in.

"Waiting for something?" Hawke asked, still sitting nearby.

"An expectant mother," Anders said, rubbing his eyes and coming back in. "It is her first child, and it sounds like she has carried for longer than normal."

"How pleasant."

Anders chuckled slightly, "Well... it's normal for a first. But I told her husband to come find me when she shows signs."

"How many children have you delivered?"

"In Kirkwall?" Anders flapped his lips a moment before saying, "I don't know. A lot."

"You've touched so many lives," Hawke said, grinning. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"The money from the expedition has made a lot possible," Anders said, turning away. "But there is something I wanted to ask you."

"Mmm I'm thinking you don't need to ask," Hawke said, stretching back. "I'm ready. You may ravage me."

Anders chuckled and looked back at her, "Not what I meant."

"Ah," Hawke said, casually linking her hands. "That's a pity."

"Varric told me that he found hints of a covert templar operation in Lowtown," Anders said, watching her hands move. "I have friends there that I'm worried for."

"Your fellow rebels?" Hawke grinned. "A rebel alliance?"

"Better than apostate, I suppose," Anders said, nodding. "Would you be willing to come with me to investigate?"

"Of course not," Hawke said, standing up. She cringed, "I'm insulted that you would think I need your help."

"Far be it from me," Anders rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing but religious flagellation, I assure you," Hawke replied. "Sebastian was giving me lessons."

"I'm sure he was," Anders murmured, lifting his hands and closing his eyes. A soft blue light enveloped Hawke's limbs, and he slowly sighed, "Bruising down your legs. Almost fits the story." Rotating his hands, he manipulated the Fade. "Better?"

"And here I was hoping for a personal inspection," Hawke pouted slightly. "So, I will run along and investigate the templars, while you stay here and look pretty? Excuse me, wait for the pregnant mother to burst."