Myde's farm was a quaint place surrounded by grass fields on one side and the village on the other. He owned four cows, five hens and two horses. His sister had left the farm with an old neighbor who greeted them out on the front yard. The main house was a faded white, windows framed in Orlesian cherry wood. Isa was drawn to the flower beds around the porch the front of the house and had to be urged inside where Myde wanted to show his guests around.

The room they were given was a small one at the far left side of the house. There was another guest room across from theirs, but Myde's sister was using it as storage and would send after her things when time was due. It could not have been better. Lea had feared they would have to sneak at night, fearful of being caught here just as with Isa's clan, but instead they got to sleep in the same room. Isa had looked out the only window in their room to see the open grass fields, but was more fascinated by the barrel of water standing outside their window.

The first night, Lea had gone to bed after a bath, wearing clean clothing. The linen covers, the softness of the mattress, Lea had to struggle to not fall asleep before Isa came back. It had been a struggle lost. Lea woke up the next morning, his arms around Isa, his face in the nape of Isa's neck. As much as he had suffered at the hands of the Chantry, he could not deny his faith in the Maker. With the array of things that could have gone wrong in his escape, he had been brought to safety, to a place of dreams. He worked alongside Isa during the days and helped Myde's business prosper, at night he could indulge in carnal needs, love Isa as a spouse would another.

"You used to frown a lot," Isa said as he rubbed a finger between Lea's eyebrows. It was early morning, sunrise was barely visible on the sky. Mornings were cold. Myde did not believe in keeping stoves in the bedrooms, said that too many farms had been burned to the ground that way. It was all the same to Lea. He got to hold onto Isa for warmth.

"Haven't you?" Lea mumbled.

"No, my facial expression is usually neutral. It prevents wrinkling."

"What a vain thing to say," Lea chuckled and earned a gentle flick against his forehead. "I haven't frowned much lately. But I will have black bags under my eyes if you keep waking up before sunrise."

"Habit," Isa said. "I get restless in the mornings. Besides, I thought you were awake. You were rubbing my bum."

"Also a habit," Lea smiled. "Try to sleep some more."

Falling into Lea's sleep pattern took some getting used to, but Lea was persistent and did not lack methods.

The story of the Grey Warden who had defeated the Archdemon soon reached the small village. 'The Hero of Ferelden' was a song frequently sung in the the village's pub, according to Myde who found the whole story fascinating. The battles were said to have been bloody and the casualties many, but there was hope for peace. Ferelden had a new king, one forged in the plights of battle against Darkspawn. The changes made little impact on their daily lives. The cows still had to be milked, the animals had to fed and there was always something needing repair.

Some days their tasks would keep them apart during the day, yet Isa would make time to find Lea whenever he found a particularly beautiful flower. Without a word, he would brush Lea's hair behind his ear to balance the flower behind it. On days of leisure, they would invite Myde to archery practice out on the fields. Lea had gotten skilled enough to start practicing on moving targets. Myde had tried it as well, but his lack of balance and proper posture made it a waste of time. "A farmer is a farmer, not a warrior," he had said.

Myde had given them permission to stay indefinitely as longs as they could help him with the farm. The terms had been fair and with nowhere else to go and the tranquility of the place, Lea and Isa had decided to stay.

"You two are good friends, I can tell," said Myde as he leaned back into his rocking chair out on the porch. They had taken to have a late night pint to make the most of the summer eves. Dwarves from Orzammar passed by the village every now and then bringing with them different brews of mead. Myde was a loyal customer and never missed an opportunity to bargain with them. "How did y'all meet?"

"I found Lea passed out on the shore."

"Well, that time comes in every man's life," said Myde and raised his wooden cup in Lea's direction.

"You're not a day older than twenty. Why must you speak like an old man?" Lea laughed.

"I bet you started drinking without us, Myde," Isa said and leaned forward to inspect Myde's eyes. They had a tendency to move in different directions when drunk.

"I take that bet and raise it two silver," Myde declared.

"Drunk like templars on summer solstice."

"Templars get drunk on mead and ale?" Isa asked, surprised.

"I don't know how much mead or ale there was in their drinks, but I'm willing to bet they spiked it with lyrium and what not to alter their minds. The sun was the last thing they wanted to see the next day."

"Gentlemen, I need help with the hay so there will be a couple of extra hands coming by next week. I don't know if I've told you about it," Myde said into his cup.

"Only five times today," Isa smiled.

"I think it's time for bed. Isa, aren't you tired?" Lea nudged Isa's arm.

"It's always bedtime for you, Lea. And you always drag Isa with you. What are you afraid of, conjoined twin? That I might suggest a game of Wicked Grace? We had you down to your knickers last time." Myde threw his head back and laughed. Drunk as he was he would not notice Lea taking Isa by his hand and lead him into the house with a loving grin.

Though safe from suspicion, Lea and Isa took no risks. They bolted the door, closed the curtains and snuffed the lights. It had taken practice to find each other in the dark without bumping heads or poking eyes. Some nights had been more trial and laughter than lovemaking, which made Lea appreciate their nights of raw passion all the more. Isa struggled to keep quiet and had to hide behind a pillow at times. Isa's heated voice, whispering, gasping his name in broken syllables made Lea an insatiable beast craving more. That one night, as they lay tangled, Isa whispered something other than his name.

I love you.

Lea traced his thumb over Isa's lips. He said nothing but kissed the sweetness away instead until it truly was time for bed.