"What do you want, Hawke," Fenris said as he wandered into the room she'd made herself at home in.

"A drinking companion, what else!" she replied with an innocent grin. "And you are simply one of the best."

"Are you already drunk," he asked. "Or were you actually waiting for me?"

Hawke arched her brow, snagging a wine bottle from under her chair, "I would hardly drink without waiting for the master of the manor."

Fenris took the bottle and drank, testing the ruby liquor in his mouth before nodding, "Not bad."

"I could buy you some glassware if you'd like?" she replied as he set the bottle between them.

"Just give me the tiles," he murmured. "Unless you are bothered by sharing with an elf?"

"Terribly, to tell you the truth," she sighed, taking the bottle again. "Now that I am meeting with the viscount and the talk of all the nobles... what would they say?"

"Hmph," he smirked, gathering the wooden chips on the table. He mixed through them before laying them out on the table. "No Varric tonight?"

"No," she pursed her lips, watching him set up the game. "He had to make scarce. Some dwarven merchants thing he couldn't bear to attend."

"I see," Fenris murmured, wrinkling his nose. "And what about Anders? You wouldn't rather dally with him?"

"We're dallying? Did I miss something? Here I thought Isabela filled that role," Hawke murmured, taking up the bottle. "Or me and Anders, alas, if only."

"She is... welcome company," he tactfully replied, scarce acknowledging when Hawke still stared. "It is your turn."

Shaking the dice in the cup, Hawke rolled before flipping over the corresponding tiles. She played again before saying, "You know, I have a bit of a quandary."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Hawke leant her head in her hand, watching him, "Would a mage get high if they licked your tattoos?"

"Excuse me?"

"Fine, fine," Hawke sighed. "Not what I was really interested in - though the option is always there to address my curiosity." She exhaled as Fenris flipped a triplet of good tiles.

"Why would the arishok wish to speak with me?"

The elf hesitated before taking up the cup to roll again, "What do you mean?"

"Apparently I am in greater demand than even I imagined," Hawke murmured, rolling after him. She flipped her tiles and clicked her tongue, "He asked to see me. By name. And you are the only person I know that has been able to surprise the qunari."

"I do not know," he murmured, watching her and continuing their game. "He seemed rather surprised by you as well."

"So coy," Hawke chuckled, drinking more wine. She smacked her lips, "Isabela must eat you up."

"Quite literally, I assure you," Fenris murmured, rolling and flipping over the rest of the tiles.

Hawke cursed and smacked down a few silvers, drawing a chuckle from him. She snagged the bottle of wine, peering at him as she laughed, "Now I'm not sharing any more."

Hawke leant her weight into the barrel alongside Fenris, clamping it shut with the turnkey. The gas was starting to settle and the elf and her mercenaries were dead.

"Check if there's anyone still alive," Hawke rasped, tightening the cloth over her mouth and nose. Fenris nodded and disappeared across the square. Aveline was kneeling nearby.

"Hawke, we need to get Anders out of here."

"Shit," she muttered, hurrying back to his side.

"I can carry him," the guard-captain replied, and together they hoisted him up over her shoulder. "Help the others."

Dragging other men and women from the ghastly miasma, Hawke soon collapsed atop the stairs of the quarter, choking and coughing with them. She roused from her hands and knees to drag herself to Aveline and Anders, wheezing as she did so.

"He's out cold," Aveline said, leaning back against the wall.

Hawke drew a small phial from her pocket and popped the cork off, wafting it under his nose, "Come on, you. Don't make me get a templar to get your feet moving."

Anders' breath deepened, and he started coughing, shuddering on the ground. "Wha...what?"

"Hah," Aveline said, hauling up to intercept the guards as they came close. Donnic was amongst them. They were trying to control the curiosity of the crowds.

Collapsing into a coughing fit of her own, Hawke fumbled with her satchel, pulling out an elixir for him. "I - I don't know what's wrong with you."

"Ribs," Anders whispered, lying back on the ground. Others struggled around them, finding their loved ones and coughing up blood. "I can't here."

"Drink that, then," Hawke whispered, wiping the blood that freely dripped from her nose. "So at least I don't have to drag you home. I will if you want me to, but it won't be pleasant."

Anders almost laughed, but just ended up coughing again, and he groaned heavily, breathing oddly to stop himself.

"Sorry," Hawke murmured, pulling a rag from her bag to hold to her nose. She scarce moved as Fenris collapsed beside her, his skin having taken a sickly pallor. Putting a potion in his hands without prompting, he popped the cork and drank it, slouching against the wall beside her.

Aveline came wandering back with Donnic on her heels, "It sounds like most of the district was evacuated."

"A lot of people died down there," Hawke murmured, eyes unfocused.

"A lot more would have died if we hadn't come straight here," she said, rubbing her reddened eyes. "And no more will die. It's quarantined. Hawke - Hawke, are you alright?"

"I hope this feeling goes away," she replied stuffily, her voice still raw. "And here you all thought I was crazy before."

"Joy of joys," Fenris murmured, his voice gravelly.

"If I swallowed a key, would you be able to get it out of my stomach?" Hawke's head rolled towards the elf, and she checked her nose with the back of her hand. "Though I suppose, how would you get it out? Other than making me vomit."

Fenris sighed and stood up, stopping only as Aveline extended a hand.

"Thank you for your help, you saved a lot of people tonight."

"For better or worse," he murmured, securing his sword and slipping off into the night.

"Do you need a hand getting home?" Aveline peered down at them.

"Please," Hawke replied, ripping some cloth to stuff up her nose. "I've stumbled home more drunk than this without getting mugged."

"And you?"

"I'll get her home," Anders hoarsely replied. They were left sitting in the street as Aveline joined the other guards. He sat up with a groan, clutching his chest and breathing shallowly. "I... I need to get somewhere safe."

"Darktown it is," Hawke said, unsteady on her feet. She pulled him up and he shuddered, stumbling a bit.

They sat on the cliff overlooking the Waking Sea, having made camp for the night. The sun was setting, and the sky was painted red and blue, contrasting sharply as the night encroached upon them.

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," the young man said.

"I won't deny, I get that a lot," Hawke sighed a grin. She had elbows on her knees, her legs splayed awkwardly apart. When the man laughed, she nodded and looked over the water. It was oddly calm – the late summer storms would start soon. "I imagine the view you had must have been close though?"

Smirking, he said, "How beautiful can anything be when you're in a cage? A beautiful woman who never will be yours, children you're banned from having – a sunset that mocks the fact you're trapped in stone."

"Can't really blame the sun," Hawke mused. "Then again the it does feature prominently in Chantry idolism, you may be on to something."

He rolled his eyes this time.

Hawke grinned and lifted her skein, drinking deep before offering it to him. Smacking her lips, she said, "My sister says they are rather strict with contraband in the Gallows."

"They're a lot worse than when I was younger," he said, drinking the wine and shuddering a bit. He handed it back. "I.. I feel bad for leaving them."

"Don't worry," Anders said as he approached, sinking to sit with them on the ground and look over the ocean. "I – we're doing our best to help anyone we can."

"You'll be in a small village – though from the sounds, it's barely even that," Hawke said, grinning. "It's best that way. They're a family whose daughter was taken from them – she was made Tranquil last year."

"Oh?"

"Clara," Anders quietly said. "Did you know her?"

The young mage's face fell ashen, "Yes. She was a wonderful person."

Anders shook his head, clenching his fist on the ground as he quietly said, "Well they won't have you."

"Thank you for it," the young mage replied. "And thank Bethany?"

"I will," Hawke nodded, watching him go back to the fire before she stared at Anders. His burning gaze was on the water.

"If you had known me back in Ferelden, we would have gotten into all sorts of trouble," Anders said with a melancholy smile.

"And we haven't been getting into trouble? Perhaps I need to try harder." Hawke said, leaning on a hand. "We could get into a lot more, you know."

"That's just what I mean," he almost laughed. "What is it you see in me, Marian? I... I can't give you the things you deserve."

"What do I see, mm..." Hawke shuffled closer, tilting her head to appraise him. "A dashing renegade mage who seems to care a lot more about others than himself. The good looks are obviously a given."

The sentiment drew a smirk as Anders looked down, lying his stave down.

"Someone with beliefs he adheres to over anything," Hawke mused, watching him. "Even if he can be a little contradictory at times."

"I suppose," he quietly said.

"A man who inspires me to act - who never lets me forget where my sister is, or that he wants her to be free again," she quietly said, putting her hand on top of his. "Someone who needs me."

"That's no good reason for this," Anders' voice wavered slightly, and he looked at their hands. Squeezing her fingers, he said, "I'm not like them. All the others you flirt with."

"You think I don't know that?" Hawke asked, grinning as she looked at him. "Oh wait, did I miss something the times your eyes have start to glow? Or when you light clogs of marauders on fire? Or save me, I neglected to notice your terrible fashion sense?"

"I though they looked dashing," Anders murmured, looking at himself.

"Trust me," she said, "They would look far better on the ground."

Ander's expression lightened a moment as he chuckled, "You never cease."

"If you want me to stop, I will," Hawke plainly said.

"I.. " Anders' voice drifted and he sighed, looking at the ocean again. "Does what I want really matter? He is there, overriding so much. And I cannot think - even if all I want to see is..."

"Is what?"

Anders slowly shook his head, letting go of her hand to take up his staff, "It's nothing. We should get back while there's still food."

Hawke put her head in her hand, harrumphing to herself as he walked away again, leaving her on the cliff as a cool breeze came up from the sea.