After a slow start to their trip to the Wounded Coast, during which a bloated Hawke had to stop a few times because he'd got a stitch in his side, he, Fenris and Donnic finally began to make good progress.

The affable Donnic proved to be good company, and he and Fenris had an involved conversation about swords and fighting styles; their styles differed from one another and, as they took a short rest halfway to their destination, Donnic challenged Fenris to a quick spar, during which the elf soundly trounced him.

"Have you considered applying to the city Guard?" an impressed Donnic asked him.

"Do they even take elves?" asked Fenris.

"What's that got to do with anything?" replied Donnic. "I'll admit, we don't get many elves applying, but I think that's down to the fact that the elves in Kirkwall tend to keep to themselves. I can't say I blame them, though, when they're all shoved into that alienage. No, guards are hired on their merits; you shouldn't let skills like that go to waste, you know."

"I don't," answered Fenris. "I train daily, and now that I'm working with Hawke, I often get a chance to apply my skills."

"Yes," interjected Hawke with a wink at Fenris, "and I couldn't do without him, so keep your grubby mitts to yourself."

Donnic laughed and held his hands up, and Fenris nodded once at Hawke. "All right, I get the message," said Donnic. "You know, it's a shame we don't take mages in the Guard. I reckon with a few healers and specialists, we'd be unstoppable."

"So why don't you?" asked Hawke.

Donnic shrugged. "It's not up to me, of course, but I think if we were to take mages, things would get complicated with the Templars. We have a good relationship with them, and that would definitely change if we started recruiting apostates. Aveline has a few thoughts on this: she'd love to see mages in our ranks, and had the idea that willing mages could be recruited from The Gallows, but I'm certain the Templars would still want to keep an eye on them if that was the case. It's just too complicated."

"How about, erm…employing some on the side?" suggested Hawke. "Anders and I know of a few…" He paused and glanced at Fenris, who was giving him a curious look. "Perhaps not," finished Hawke with a grin.

"Like I said, it's not up to me," said Donnic. "Jeven would never…although, I don't suppose Jeven will be guard-captain for much longer, will he?" he mused with a wicked smile. "I can't wait to see him get what's coming to him. Come on; let's get a move on."

With renewed vigour in their steps, the three men soon arrived at the cave where Bethany and Varric had stayed with Aveline.

"Let me go in first," Hawke recommended, "as Bethany has probably put wards down."

Entering the cave, Hawke summoned a few small wisps to light their path, and they made their way further in, occasionally passing the body of one of the blood mages they'd engaged the day before.

"Are these the mages you were telling me about?" asked Donnic.

"The blood mages," corrected Fenris with a sneer. "We killed some of them; the others are with the Templars, where they belong."

Hearing the coldness in Fenris's voice, Hawke supressed a sigh. Now that the two of them seemed to have reached an understanding, he'd been preoccupied over whether he should tell Fenris the truth or not. Fenris appreciated honesty, and it would save a lot of trouble in the long run if Hawke came clean with him now, but would telling Fenris the truth about himself destroy their fledgling friendship? Would Fenris be able to look past the fact that Hawke was a blood mage? Given that Danarius - who had subjected Fenris to things Hawke was only just starting to understand – was also a blood mage, he was forced to conclude that the answer was a resounding no.

And he wasn't prepared to let all of his effort in befriending Fenris go to waste. If he was honest with himself, Fenris's friendship and approval were probably more important to him right now even than Anders's. Every time Fenris had opened up to him, every smile of his, every laugh, had been a tiny victory, and had made him feel good. He wanted to see more of Fenris's smile, wanted to make him laugh more often. He wanted to be the person that Fenris trusted and confided in.

And yet, Fenris was opposed to everything Hawke, and Anders, stood for. Becoming friends with Fenris could make things difficult with Anders, Hawke knew, but somehow, he felt it was worth it. Although on the surface he and Fenris had nothing in common, Hawke was forced to admit that he enjoyed, and looked forward to, Fenris's company even more than Anders's, and yet Hawke and Anders had so much more in common. Why, then, was the elf's approval and respect so important to him?

"Hawke?" asked Fenris.

"Hm?"

"You were…looking at me. Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no; sorry, Fenris, I was miles away. I didn't mean to stare at you."

"Were you somewhere pleasant?"

Hawke laughed softly and he felt his cheeks flush. "Erm, yes, you could say that. I'm sorry, were you saying something to me?"

"Yes; I would be interested in hearing your opinion on blood magic."

Hawke swallowed hard and he felt his cheeks burn, although a shiver ran through his body. "I don't really have an opinion," he said readily, his gut tightening.

"But you must," insisted Fenris. "Do you not feel that mages of this kind give other mages, such as yourself, a bad name?"

"The mages we encountered here, certainly," Hawke answered evasively. "They had obviously turned to blood magic to aid their escape from the Templars, and intended to use it for no other reason than destruction."

Fenris halted and fixed Hawke with a hard look. "Are you saying that there are noble reasons for the use of blood magic, then?"

"I'm not saying that at all," replied Hawke, feeling himself break out in a sweat. "I'm just saying that not all blood mages are insane, like this lot clearly were."

"You have known many blood mages, then?" asked Fenris, a hostile note creeping into his voice.

"The odd one," Hawke said distractedly, longing to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Many of them are perfectly decent people, who lead very ordinary lives."

"Decent?" Fenris retorted. "Just how is someone who makes a conscious decision to treat with a demon, decent?"

"Not all of them have a choice, Fenris," Hawke snapped, immediately regretting his words; he had no desire to get into a conversation about blood magic, or his own experience, with Fenris.

"You mean some of them are forced to make a deal? How is this so? From what I have seen, all blood mages crave power, and that is why they turn to it in the first place."

"Some mages are like that, yes, but you can't tar us all with the same brush based on your own experiences," Hawke began, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

"Can I not?" Fenris bit back.

"Erm, fellas, shall we just get on and find Aveline?" suggested Donnic, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Hawke ignored him and turned to face Fenris. "Demons, by their very nature, are conniving and devious. They prey on mages when they are at their most vulnerable; when they are young, or ill, or grieving. They offer a solution, a perfect solution, to the mage's problem, and want little in return, or so it seems at the time."

"Then you have been visited by one of these demons?" demanded Fenris. "You certainly sound as though you speak from experience."

"Haven't I already been over this?" Hawke asked in exasperation. "I've already said this in front of you. Every mage is visited by demons once in a while. Some accept their offer, while many others do not. And some accept the demon's offer without realising it. There are a lot more blood mages around than you realise, Fenris; it's just that most of them never use their powers." Hawke took a deep breath and reined his anger in; anger had a tendency to loosen his tongue.

"So some mages are tricked, then? That is what you claim?"

"I'm not claiming anything, Fenris; I'm telling you."

"Then that is even more of a reason for mages to be confined!" opined Fenris. "If they are too weak to resist a demon's influence, they should not be allowed to roam free!"

"Are you saying I should be locked up?" countered Hawke angrily.

"No. I am not saying that…" Fenris sighed, realising he'd pushed too hard.

"Why, Fenris? What makes me so special?" Fenris shook his head and did not answer. "Come on, Fenris! You've come this far, don't back down now!"

"Perhaps this is a discussion for another time," Fenris said with a glance at Donnic.

"I think what you mean, Fenris, is that you can't think of an answer," Hawke bit out.

"I agree with Fenris," said Donnic. "We came here for Aveline. You two can debate this all you like another time."

"No, I want to know why I shouldn't be locked up, and why some other mages should," Hawke demanded of Fenris, waving an accusing finger at the elf. "What about Anders? Bethany? Should they be imprisoned as well?"

"It would be prudent to keep Anders under scrutiny, yes," replied Fenris. "As for your sister, I do not think…"

"Why? Because you don't like him?"

"No. Because he is an abomination."

"That's my friend you're talking about!" spluttered Hawke. "He's host to a spirit; that's not the same as an abomination!"

"That is exactly what an abomination is!"

"Well, why don't you tell that to Justice the next time you see him? From what I've seen so far, you seem to get on quite well with him! You don't know what you're angry about, do you? You're just spouting ignorance!"

"I do not get on with the spirit," Fenris insisted. "I tolerate its presence; it would be unwise to incur its wrath."

"And yet you're quite happy to incur mine and Anders's? Why is that, Fenris? Is it because you know, that as apostates, we have no rights and no recourse? Is that it? Isn't that a little cowardly?"

"I've had enough of this," huffed Donnic. "I'm going on ahead."

"Wait," said Hawke, his eyes still fixed on Fenris. "I need to look out for wards. "This conversation's over, anyway." With one final glare at Fenris, he shook his head and turned away,

"You have not met every mage in Thedas, Hawke, and therefore cannot speak for them all," Fenris called after him.

"And neither have you, Fenris!"

Donnic groaned and positioned himself in between the two bickering men as they walked on silently in single file.

As they neared the main chamber of the cave, Hawke stopped and dispelled a ward that he recognised as one of Bethany's, and loudly announced their presence as they entered.

Bethany, Varric and Aveline were sat around a small fire, drinking tea.

"Thought it was you, Brother," called Bethany.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Hawke as they walked over. "How's that hip, Aveline?"

"A lot better, thanks to you," she replied, and, pushing herself to her feet, she walked back and forth to demonstrate. "It's a little stiff, but it'll get me back to Kirkwall…Donnic?" Her mouth fell open as her fellow guard entered the small sphere of light cast by the fire. "What-what are you doing here?"

"I insisted on coming when I'd heard what had happened," he told her. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes…I, erm…well, how are you, Donnic? Did those thugs get to you?"

"I'm fine, Aveline. I got a knock on the head, but Hawke here and a few of his friends were ready for them. Didn't give us much trouble, did they?" he asked Hawke.

"Not much, no," answered Hawke drily, rubbing his bruised cheek.

As Aveline and Donnic discussed the actions they would take upon returning to the barracks, Hawke sat down next to the fire, and Bethany made him some tea.

"Just the two of you, Hawke?" asked Varric.

"No…" Hawke glanced around. "Fenris is here, somewhere."

Not wanting to be rude, Fenris stepped forward into the firelight and nodded to Varric and Bethany.

"Ooh, Elf; that's a beauty of a shiner you have, there!" said Varric, wincing.

"…Shiner?" asked Fenris, tilting his head in confusion.

"A black eye," Hawke clarified flatly without looking at him.

"Come and sit down, Fenris, and have some tea," Bethany invited.

"I will remain standing, thank you, but I would gladly partake of some tea," the elf replied, and Bethany glanced at her brother, hearing him huff.

"Listen, you two," whispered Varric. "You need to settle an argument." He pointed over to where Donnic and Aveline stood, talking. "Sunshine thinks Aveline's sweet on him…"

"She talked about him non-stop last night," Bethany interjected.

"…While I think we need more evidence," Varric continued. "What do you two think?"

Hawke watched them discreetly for a while. "It's hard to tell from here; the light's not very good. Although she did stammer a bit when she saw him, but that could have been because she was surprised."

Fenris, who had a clearer view of the couple, offered his opinion. "She appears to be smiling more than is her wont, and her hands are restless."

"See? I told you!" Bethany whispered to Varric, who shooed her away with his hand.

"That proves nothing! She's relieved that he's safe, that's all."

Bethany sighed. "It looks like we're no closer to solving the argument, then."

Fenris shook his head as Bethany passed him some tea. "I concur with you, Bethany. When she speaks with him, there is a light in her eyes that was not previously apparent."

Bethany stuck her tongue out at Varric, who scowled in return. "Come on, Hawke; help a dwarf out, here. Tell me you agree with me."

Hawke craned his neck a little for a better look, noticing this time that Aveline's body language was awkward and that she wore a strange expression, which he had also never seen before. "Well, Varric, either she's desperately trying not to fart, or she fancies the pants off him. Is that helpful?"

Varric folded his arms and pursed his lips. "Real helpful, Hawke." Turning his attention away from Hawke, he stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm about ready to get outta here. You guys want to stay and finish your tea?"

Bethany shook her head and Varric held out his arm, helping her to her feet. Hawke also stood, and called over to Aveline and Donnic. "We're thinking of making tracks. Are you two ready?"

"We certainly are, Hawke," Aveline replied, making her way over with Donnic. "We're going to take this straight to the Viscount; there's been the odd complaint about Jeven before, and I know that Seneschal Bran dislikes him. His ears will prick up when he hears about this."

"You may be called as witnesses," Donnic said to Hawke and Fenris. "Would you be willing to give evidence?"

"Of course," Hawke replied. Fenris remained quiet and looked at the ground.

"Fenris?" asked Aveline. "Your testimony is very important."

Fenris considered this for a moment, not really wanting to replay the previous night's events, but not wanting to let Aveline down, either. "I will give evidence," he eventually replied.

"Thank you," Aveline said with a smile. "Both of you. If it hadn't been for you, I dread to think what might have happened."

"Hey, let's not forget the dashing and charming dwarf that held your hand and helped you through the pain last night," added Varric.

"I don't remember that bit," Aveline said with a frown which quickly turned into a smile. "But thank you both, as well, for staying with me," she said to Varric and Bethany.

"I should think so," Varric said snootily, turning away from Aveline, a hint of a smile evident as he disappeared into the semi-darkness. "Come on, Sunshine." Bethany joined Varric and they all made their way out of the cave.

After allowing a few minutes for their eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight, Bethany whispered something to Varric and he jerked his head, indicating for the others to follow him as Bethany remained behind. As Hawke passed her, she touched his arm and they waited for a moment before slowly walking behind the others. Fenris, as usual, went to the head of the group by himself.

"Are you all right, Brother?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't seem yourself. Have you and Fenris fallen out again? You've hardly spoken a word to each other, and you both seem down."

"Have we fallen out with each other?" he repeated miserably. "Don't you have to be friends with someone first to fall out with them?" His tone was sharper than he'd intended, and he groaned. "I'm sorry, Bethany. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"But I thought you and Fenris were getting along well?"

"So did I, Sister. Every…" He paused and stared glumly at the path ahead. "Every time I think that – that we're getting on well, I mean – something bites me on the arse. We started talking about blood magic and then we started arguing about blood magic. I guess he views my opinion on the matter to be as extreme as I view his."

"Friends don't always agree on everything," said Bethany.

"But this is not us arguing over what the best colour is, or some similar trifling nonsense; this is arguing about what I am, what we are. I know you're not a blood mage, Beth, but his hatred of all mages runs deep. How can I be friends with someone who hates what I am?"

For a moment, Bethany didn't answer, and she slipped her arm through Hawke's. "He doesn't hate you, Fletcher; he hates his master. You just have to keep plugging away. One day, he'll see you as I do. You're a good man."

Hawke laughed mirthlessly. "I doubt that. Maybe we weren't meant to be friends."

"Now, this is not the Fletcher I know," Bethany scolded gently. "Fletcher Hawke doesn't just give up! Where's the determination, the pig-headedness? This is not like you at all."

"I just can't cope with all the ups and downs, Beth. That blasted elf is playing havoc with my stomach. When he-"

"When he what?"

Hawke clasped Bethany's arms, bringing her to a stop, and glanced anxiously at the others who walked ahead. "You can't tell anyone this," he demanded.

Bethany shook her head. "Of course, Brother; I won't say a word."

He released her arms and rubbed at his forehead. "Maker…my stomach is doing somersaults even now." He glanced up the path again; the others were by now well ahead of them. "Fenris and I have had several arguments, disagreements, whatever you want to call them. He sometimes gets this look in his eyes, like he despises me. When he looks at me like that, Beth, it crushes me. On the other hand, I've made him laugh a total of two times, now. Two. And, each time he's laughed, Beth, it's instantly made everything better. Everything. Maker, Beth, I would do anything to make him laugh."

A soft smile befell Bethany's face and she took Hawke's hands into her own. "It looks like Aveline and Donnic are not the only ones who are sweet on each other, Fletcher."

Hawke shook his head briskly. "No chance. He hates me. Every time he looks at me he must see his master."

"Well, he must like seeing his master a lot then, Fletcher; while you were drinking your tea and avoiding eye contact with him, he didn't take his eyes off you once, except for when he was looking at Donnic and Aveline."

"I'm sure he didn't," grumped Hawke. "He was probably staring daggers at me."

"That's not what I saw," said Bethany. "He looked sorry to me, like he wanted to apologise."

"Well he hasn't, has he? Besides, I'm not sure he should apologise. I'd probably hate mages as well, in his position."

Bethany released Hawke's hands and took his arm, and they resumed their walk. "You once told me that Fenris is a very private man. Would he really make an apology in front of all of us? You wait; I bet as soon as we get back, he'll take you off somewhere and say sorry."

"And then what, Beth? I get my hopes up again, only to have them dashed the next time?" He shook his head angrily. "I'm a bloody fool. I need to give this up now, before it turns into something more than a stupid crush."

"Do you really think you could do that?" she asked.

He looked up the path to where Fenris walked beside Donnic; they appeared to be discussing swordplay again. Just as the two warriors disappeared around a bend, Fenris glanced back, for a second his eyes meeting Hawke's. He then quickly turned back and walked around the bend.

Hawke's shoulders slumped and he released a shaky breath. "Oh, Maker…"

"Thought not," Bethany said saucily, wrapping her arm around Hawke's waist. "Now, listen to your sister carefully: I have a few ideas up my sleeve."