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Sebastian is concerned.
Usually he’s not one to get into the simple affairs of people, but.
Well.
When dealing with anything even remotely involving one Serven Hawke, the prince has learned that it’s rarely simple. And it rarely involves just Hawke.
It’s just one of those facts in life; when you forget an umbrella, it will rain. Every stocking will lose its mate, only its mate, and you will forever be left with only one sock. Your kilt will only malfunction when every person in the room happens to stare at you.
And if Hawke is involved, so is every person in Kirkwall (and most of their grannies.)
Really, he should have known that if Hawke managed to get into a relationship, it wouldn’t just involve Hawke and his chosen beau. The entire thing would have to become a battle for his heart, with bets and pools running, sabotage and matchmaking going on behind the scenes, and Hawke would be none the wiser, wouldn’t he.
Of course Sebastian would the cause of most of it, too.
Maker help them all.
In the beginning, Sebastian really has no part in it. Hawke is simply his new friend and ally, and Sebastian is still testing waters with the rest of ‘the gang’. He’s made friends with Aveline, and started a tense sort of relation with Fenris. Everyone else he’s fine with; as much as Isabella and Varric tease him, they’re pretty kind and just, and Sebastian can handle himself very well, thank you.
Merrill, despite being a blood mage (which should really make him hate her), is a sweet, loving girl. Sebastian has grown quite fond of her actually, and slips coin and candies into her pockets just to hear her delighted squeals upon discovery. So really, everyone is ok in his books.
With the exception of Anders.
Sebastian really doesn’t like him.
At all.
Which isn’t normal- most people he gets along with ok, and one he doesn’t he can at least tolerate, or ignore. Anders somehow taps every little sore spot and salt wound Sebastian might have, and it’s irritating that he’s even so irritating, if that makes any sense at all.
-But, Hawke enjoys his company, or at least his healing magic, so Sebastian just puts up with him (even through the rants about freedom and mage oppression).
It is right about this time that Hawke starts showing…Romantic interest in his companions. Namely, Fenris.
It’s actually quite adorable, Sebastian has to admit. Something will happen, like an important conversation, or a particularly juicy bit of gossip from Isabella or Varric, and Hawke will almost immediately turn to Fenris for his opinions. Hawke will smile brightly, Fenris will blush and give some smart or caustic remark back, and that will only make Hawke grin wider. And while Varric and Isabella make note to fake gag and swoon, Sebastian simply shakes his head and chuckle softly.
(Of course, these moments are far and few between. Most of Hawke’s and Fenris’s relationship consists of screaming matches about mage rights, stony silences while walking, and the ever present threat of violence should Sebastian or Varric not step in and separate the two. But we tend to overlook these things.)
And really, everyone finds the budding romance adorable. From Merrill’s chirpings, to Aveline’s fond remarks, even Hawke’s mother tittering at Hawke about ‘the lovely young man you’re making eyes at. Oh come now, Garrett, I’m old but not blind’. Even Varric and Isabella would make happy comments, granted the two love birds were far, far away when said discussions occurred.
Anders, however, was not happy.
At all.
Interesting.
It’s on one of their trips to Sundermount that Sebastian’s devious plan unfurls in his mind. Stuck on the mountain for two day while Hawke gathered ingredients for a merchant he was friend with, the group had quite a bit of nothing to do.
Fenris had accompanied Hawke in his search, along with Aveline and Isabella, so Merrill, Varric, Anders and he were sitting at the camp they’d built.
While Merrill and himself were currently cooking some food for when everyone returned (“We Dalish are known for out ability to use pretty much anything in our dishes- even certain mosses can be cooked to make a delicious and nutritious paste!”), the other two companions sat directly behind them, near the tents, talking.
“Varric, I need your help.”
“Oh? And what could you possibly need from little old me?”
“Help me break up Fenris and Hawke.” He says bluntly. Sebastian almost cuts himself with the knife he’d been using to fillet their caught Hare, but Merrill’s steady admonishment and hand stopped him. Sebastian didn’t dare make any more noise; he needed to hear this.
“You need me to what?” Varric laughed. “Blondie, that’s a horrible thing to say. Hawke’s happy with Broody, why’d you want to-“
Sebastian can feel the realization pass through the dwarf, even though he couldn’t see behind him. Sebastian was also grateful Merrill was so preoccupied with singing to her-self that she didn’t notice the crisis happening around them.
Sebastian was seconds away from turning around and giving both of a stern what’s-what, but Varric spoke.
“Blondie,” He said, un-characteristically soft. “You’re a good friend. But I would never betray my other friends like that, especially Hawke. You should know that.”
Sebastian could hear the soft pat-pat of a hand against fabric, so Varric must have patted Anders on the shoulders or thigh. “If you want Hawke, you have to fight for him yourself.”
Sebastian felt a warmth seep though him at Varric’s word. Here was a good friend, a good man- he didn’t cross his friend, didn’t mock or scream; he simply told him the best course of action. He was honored to know such a wise man.
Sebastian should feel pity for Anders. The man was a good healer- he helped many people, worked to save lives. He had the unfortunate disposition of falling in love/lust/want with one of his best friends, one that (to his knowledge) didn’t show interest back, and so Sebastian should feel sorry the mage.
He should feel sorry.
As it stood, Sebastian still hated the man with a passion.
(This is where the plan began to manifest; where the tiny slip of pure evil in his otherwise good heart began to unfurl its devious design.)
Anders had asked for help from Varric and had it denied.
‘If the mage wants help, it’s only fair Fenris gets the option as well.’ He thought.
Only he knew full well the elf would yes.
Sebastian corners Fenris down at the Hanged Man one evening, after he’s sure Hawke has left for the night. Although he himself hasn’t had anything to drink, Fenris has allowed himself the pleasure of a few glasses of wine. It works in his favor, really, because had Fenris not been so graciously tipsy as he was now, Sebastian doubted he could’ve gotten the elf to agree to talk to him.
“Fenris.” Sebastian states calmly. The elf gives him a look that says ‘get to the point’, so Sebastian doesn’t dawdle. “I, as well as the other members of our party, are quite aware of your current relationship with our leader, Hawke.” Fenris goes red and attempts to speak, but the archer just raises his hand. “No, there is no use in denying or playing it off- It is obvious you both have feelings for each other.” Fenris looks again like he’s about to start speaking, but he cuts him off. “Now, I understand you are proceeding this romance in an entirely blundered way- about as worse as our dear Aveline is with her darling Guardsmen, I fear. Now, the blame does not rest solely on your shoulders; Hawke is being particularly slow about making his intentions clear, even I see that. So,” Sebastian says to the now baffled elf, “I propose something you would take care to listen to. I will help you capture Hawke’s affection.”
Fenris growls and points a clawed finger at him. “What business do you have inserting your nose into our affairs?” Sebastian smiles, and rests his head upon crossed fingers.
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t care how two people choose to dance around their intendeds. However, Hawke is fast becoming my best friend. He is a good man, and deserves whatever happiness the maker chooses to grant him. You are also a good man- one who has suffered far too much in this world. I would like to help my friends, simply put.”
Sebastian smiles serenely, and Fenris looks both touched and suspicious.
“There has to more to it.”
Sebastian throws his head back and laughs, startling the elf. “Yes, of course there is.”
“I hate Anders.” The archer says fervently. “Hate the man with a passion. -But, the Maker forbids my wrath, and Hawke is my friend, so I cannot outright shout my loathing from the rooftops.” Sebastian takes the moment to put a hand to chin.
“However, he is making eyes at Hawke, when Hawke is obviously making eyes at you. As it so happens, I can kill two birds with one stone- by helping you and Hawke get together, I will successfully take the mage down a level, without doing anything technically wrong; after all, I’m only helping the maker spread love and joy through this world, and helping two dear friends find each other.”
Fenris stares at Sebastian for minute, before slowly shaking his head.
“You are an evil, evil man, and your logic is skewed beyond comparison.”
Sebastian smiles at the compliment for what it was.
“Corff, my good man.” Sebastian plastered on his best smile, the one he’d used back in the day to charm a man or woman into doing anything he’d like. “I have a favor.”
Corff, the adorable man he was, went red in the face as soon as Sebastian had started talking. He’d like to think it was the accent that did it, but really, Corff blushed to anyone’s attention.
“Um, Sebastian. What can I do for you?”
“I take it you know of Anders? The man who always accompanies Hawke?” Corff nodded yes, so he continued. “ Tonight, he will be here with Hawke, and the rest of his companions. I need you,” he whispered, taking care to lean in closely, “to make sure he doesn’t get any quality time with Hawke. Ask him to help serve, send some drunks his way, make up an emergency- Sick Norah on him if you have too; just make sure Anders doesn’t get to talk to Hawke alone.”
Corff looked understandably suspicious, but Sebastian wouldn’t have trusted the man if he hadn’t been.
“I do understand how terrible this looks, Corff, so let me explain. Anders is attempting to seduce Hawke. Hawke’s virtue is at a compromise, as he will be drunk tonight, and very friendly. I will attempt to keep his virtue safe, no matter what. However, despite my constant vigilance, I have no doubt he will get past me- the man is sneaky like a rat.”
Corff looked understandably upset. “I would have never suspected- of course, Sebastian, I’ll help you keep Hawke safe. I’ll make sure no one gets to Hawke.”
Sebastian shuffles his feet slightly. “Well, there’s the thing- I’m trying to get Hawke alone, yes, but with Fenris.” The prince had learned from a very young age that the best lies were those that held truth. (That, and keeping toads in the fountain was not an acceptable way to keep pets.)
“Fenris? Why would you keep Fenris with Hawke, but not Anders?”
“Because Fenris and Hawke are dating, Corff.” Or at least, they will be, once this plan works out. “Anders is trying to steal Hawke away from Fenris- I am trying to keep them together.”
Corff nods fervently. “Oh, I get it now! I’ll go tell the girls everything, get Norah in, maybe…”
As Corff heads off to plan, Sebastian’s little wicked soul does a happy dance.
The night starts pleasant enough. Fenris and Hawke make to sit down next to each other, intent on talking.
‘Good.’ Sebastian cackles in his mind.
Everyone else who shows up decides to start a game of Diamond Back- Varric begins to teach Merrill the rules, and Isabella complains that no one ever wants to play strip poker.
Sebastian keeps near the cards table- not playing, but close enough that he could spy on the couple without them thinking he wasn’t just watching the game.
Anders ties to sit next to the couple, but then his plan went into action.
Corff deployed the barmaids in efficient planning; they soon crowed around Anders and make him sit two tables away from Hawke and Fenris. Then, when he had demanded to know what was going on, the barmaids gave him a collective evil eye. Norah’s was exceptionally terrifying; Sebastian doubted the Archdemon would be immune to her glare.
When Anders attempted to order a drink, Corff gave his own glower. This, while not nearly as dreadful as his girls’ were, was still sufficiently scary (if only because it was sweet, gullible Corff doing the glare).
All in all, everything was running smoothly. The couple was having a conversation instead of an argument or a battle, Anders was kept far away, and Sebastian could revel in his unholy glee.
Anders was not as amused at the situation and Sebastian was.
“Does anyone know what Corff won’t serve me anything? And why all the Barmaids see to hate my collective guts?”
Sebastian snickers into his cup.
Nevertheless, the fates decide that everything Sebastian has planned will go to shit.
Because Fenris has to open is mouth and spew some scathing remark about abominations not deserving to be served. That makes Anders (understandably) upset, which in turn makes Hawke upset; this means soon Fenris and Hawke are arguing, which turns into a screaming match, which ends in the usual way of Fenris storming away.
And because the Barmaids are efficiently keeping Anders away, Hawke is left to sit miserably alone at the table, because everyone else is either playing cards, exiled, or hiding (only Sebastian is doing this.)
This is the moment where Sebastian realizes that this entire battle will be uphill.
In the rain.
With no shoes.
-And a soggy kilt.
(Sebastian hates soggy kilts.)
This is the process in which Sebastian operates for the next few months:
Sebastian will concoct some scheme to get Fenris and Hawke alone together. He will work to keep Anders (and everyone else) away, strive to keep conditions as romantic as possible, and wait.
This is when everything will fail, as one of four things happen.
1) Fenris will open his mouth.
2) Fenris will open his blasted mouth.
3) Hawke will open his mouth.
4) Bandits/Slavers/Raiders/Blood Mages/Drakes/Rabid Mabari/Giant Spiders/Shades/The Entire City of Kirkwall/Old Grannies attack and everyone has to work now.
(there is also a few times where Merrill stumbles in ignorantly and fails to understand the concept of alone time, but we have already established that Sebastian has a deficiency in himself to blame her for anything, so these times don’t count.)
Sebastian feels a sort of disheartening déjà vu when Hawke, Isabella, Varric and himself were invited into Aveline’s office. Something about this- her standing there, looking red as her hair and uncomfortable- sends a chill up Sebastian’s spine.
He can hear the agonizing moans of despair, the stench of un-washable failure. It smells like crusty kilts.
-But that it gets worse.
To find out that Aveline needs their help in, Marker forbid it, Matchmaking, something slips in Sebastian’s brain.
When Hawke’s immediate answer is to help, sure, that’s fine; Aveline is their friend, is Sebastian’s friend, and if she needs help hitting on a guardsmen because she’s slightly incompetent in this aspect (oh god oh god this is horrifying), Sebastian will support her efforts in love.
At the end of this eventful, stressful, insanely backwards but successful event, Aveline asks if she had been particularly bad at this.
Hawke and Fenris have the nerve to answer yes.
Them.
Those two.
Hawke and Fenris.
The biggest idiots ever to decide to pursue romance tell someone who is not either of themselves that they are terrible at romance.
‘The maker is toying with me.’ The prince thinks faintly. ‘He is all powerful, all seeing, all knowing- and he is laughing at my failed attempts. Laughing.’
(Mother Elthina comments on the passion of his prayers that evening. Sebastian just keeps kneeling, well pasts the final chimes.)
Sebastian decides that is was his treatment of Anders, not his matchmaking of Hawke and Fenris, that made the Maker displeased, so he decides to just keep pushing the two (completely hopeless what is he even doing) men together. He’ll ease up on the whole sabotaging Anders thing.
(He said ease up, not stop. Sadly, Sebastian is a mortal, frail, and imperfect human being- his sins transgress heavily, but the Maker has to forgive a Brother, right? Right.)
So, it’s simple really; force the two into situations where they have to interact, keep everyone especially away from them, and hopefully let love work its way. Also hope the Maker doesn’t decide that Sebastian’s attempts are just terrible and smites him.
Perhaps if he keeps the group small, only four people, he can make them closer? Yes that might work, but what?
Oh, of course- a shopping trip of some sort; he’ll just budge them into pairs, and everything will work from there! Tell Fenris to get something nice for Hawke- a little favor or trinket or something. This will work.
(This does not work. This does not work at all.)
“Sebastian,” Merrill asks while they’re all out shopping for weapons and supplies. “Do you know much about Chantry folklore? Like fairies and spirits and such. Do you have fairies and spirits and such in your tales?”
Sebastian pauses from his perusal of leather goods to address the small Dalish women. “Yes, Merrill, I do know some folklore. What manner of spirits are you talking about- good or evil?”
Merrill’s wide eyes clash with his unwavering knowledge that she is a blood mage. There is no way around it- she is an abomination; a demon lurks in her body, and no matter how good of a person she may be, this cannot change.
‘But she is so cute! Like a little rabbit!’ Whispers a voice in the back of his skull. Sebastian shakes his head and catches up with her rapid speech.
“-at least I think is must be good; we Dalish have stories of good fae and good spirits, but they never really leave anything. Unless you count the Caithsee, but they only leave curdled milk…”
Sebastian coughs lightly and Merrill catches herself. “Oh, well, what I’ve been trying to ask- does the Chantry have any spirits that leave candies and coins in pockets? Because it is so strange, I just reach in for one reason or another and suddenly I have a piece of candy or some silvers! This is so weird, because I know I didn’t put them there. Do you know of anything that could do this?”
Sebastian is about to make up some creative, flowery way to explain that while he certainly had no idea what or who could be sneaking those things into her pockets it most certainly has to do with Merrill being a lovely, sweet girl.
He’s about to, when suddenly there is a commotion around a merchant’s tent that sold pretty, expensive clothes.
“Fenris, you don’t have to buy me something-“
“Why, because I’m a poor, former slave?”
“No, Fenris, that is not why-“
“Oh, so it’s because I’m an elf, is it? Can’t have an elf buy you something?”
“Fenris, stop being ridiculous!”
“I am not being ridiculous, you are being an ass! Let me buy you something!”
“I don’t want you to!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
As the two men storm off in hissy-fits, both Merrill and Sebastian look on in dismay.
“They are particularly dense, aren’t they Sebastian?”
Sebastian sighs and sneaks another candy into her pocket.
Ok, the shopping trip is a catastrophe, so Sebastian has to think of something else.
Well, he does think of something. It’s just a very improbable thing. But it had always worked well for Sebastian, and such a universally understood method shouldn’t be that strange for Fenris to grasp.
Shouldn’t be, at least. Hopefully. Maybe.
“…Flirt with him.”
Fenris stared doubtfully.
“Yes, you know- compliment him, tell him he has nice eyes or something. Just things you find attractive about him, let him know.”
Fenris still look unsure, so Sebastian attempts to take it up a notch.
“Look, if you want, you could try some pick up lines.”
“…Pick-up…lines?”
Sebastian nods. “Yes, like-“ Sebastian schools his feature into a smolder and looks at Fenris.
“I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I say…
Hi.” Sebastian said, grinning devilishly. “How ya’ doing?”
Fenris was unmoved.
“Did that actually work on people? Really?”
Sebastian’s face fell and he heaved a sigh.
“Go hit on Hawke. Do not insult him, do not pick a fight, do not even mention the word mage. If He mentions it,” Sebastian raises his voice to drown out Fenris’s protest, “do not comment on it. Have a romantic conversation that doesn’t end in screaming, please.”
“Fenris.” Sebastian whispers, mindful of the acoustic in the cave. “Do it.”
Today, they are visiting the Bone Pit. Reports of Giant Spiders have Reached Hawke’s ears, so Fenris, Isabella and Sebastian are accompanying him there. They’ve already exterminated a bunch, but there are more located in the back (so says Hawke.)
However, it takes quite a bit of time to reach the back, so as they are walking in the near pitch black cave, Sebastian figures now is better then anything to start flirting.
“Go to him and compliment him on….I don’t know, anything.”
Fenris is doubtful. “But what should I say?”
“Say that he has a huge-“ Sebastian cuts Isabella off but slapping a hand over her (whore) mouth.
“Do not say that.” Sebastian informs gravely. He ignores Isabella’s childish tactic of licking his hand. “Go. Now.”
Fenris makes his way to Hawke, who is working at breaking open a lock on a treasure chest. Hawke has the physical disability of not passing any chest, despite that 90% of the time, they are filled with either broken beads or someone’s torn trousers.
(The romantic in Sebastian like to think that because of his poor childhood, Hawke takes every opportunity to horde things to sell. This is a small part, however, because mostly Sebastian thinks Hawke is stupid in this aspect.)
“Hawke.” Fenris both states and questions.
Hawke looks up and smiles at the elf. “Oh, Fenris. Is there something you need?”
Fenris looks at the ground and shuffles. “I…Like the way you open chests.”
The lock Hawke is trying to open shuts tightly. Hawke doesn’t have the skill to open this particular one.
(There is a cricket chirping in this cave. The Maker really is mocking them.)
“Um,” Fenris stutters. Hawke looks equally as embarrassed.
“I, uh…Thought I could open that.”
Fenris nods, still slightly red and still scuffling his feet. “It was a good try.”
Both men start to have this weird, incredibly embarrassing standoff, where Fenris will attempt to say something, and Hawke will kind of stand there like an idiot.
Both of them are idiots.
“This was bad on your part.” Isabella informs him. “We are in a dark, dank, smelly cave- this is probably the least romantic place in all of Thedas.” She points a bland look at the archer. “You also have two of the thickest men in the Free Marches here. Very bad luck on your part, dove.”
Sebastian sighs. He is well aware of this.
“I am well aware of this.”
“Seriously, this is just as bad as the whole ‘Donnic’ disaster- only I can’t really see this ending happily.” Isabella makes a face. “Not before a couple of broken bones, at least.”
The two rogues watch the men shuffle around each-other like particularly daft maidens. Sebastian could feel his sanity stress at their incompetence. Isabella leaned in close, as if to share a secret.
“If I didn’t like Hawke as much as I did, I’d just bed Fenris myself. –And Hawke after. They’re both pretty good looking.” Some perverse thought flashes in her mind, and she gets excited. “ Oh, maybe if I bed them at the same time, this whole issue will be resolved!”
Sebastian groans and covers his face.
So, the reason the last time didn’t work can be blamed on Sebastian (it can be, that doesn’t mean it should). Sebastian is getting impatient, and pushed Fenris to try sweet talking in an incredibly inappropriate location.
This time, Sebastian will plan.
He will plan a dinner.
A wonderful dinner, that Sebastian will cook and take care of, because Starkhaven food is delicious (though strange to most people not from Starkhaven- he will lay off the Haggis for now).
Also, he’ll ask Merrill to help, because that Moss paste was actually incredibly tasty, unexpectedly enough.
A romantic dinner. What to make….
Something simple, like a soup, with a fair amount of sides like bread and cheese and dried meat. Lay out some fruit, and something sweet at the end for dessert. They can have it at the Hanged Man- Corff has been pleasant in the past, and some sweet talking from Sebastian should let him agree.
This is good. This is a classic; and best of all, this is pretty failsafe.
(This is a horrible thing to say, because by claiming it is ‘safe’ in any way only ensures a horrible outcome for everyone involved.)
Merrill and Sebastian arrive in the afternoon of the big day. The invitation had been sent to Hawke to arrive at sunset, so the have few hours for preparation.
The list is as follows: Clean the blood/vomit/ale/questionable stains off the floor, remove all pirate queens from the immediate area (Isabella is like a cat in that she senses danger, so she does not put up a fuss), budge the tables into somewhat of an order, grab a large amount of alcohol (because Sebastian has a feeling he will be drinking a lot of it), and of course prepare the food.
They are going to prepare a wonderful menu tonight, consisting of ‘whatever the hell we are making you are eating, you sodding bastards.’
Merrill and Sebastian, with the help of Corff, start to cook. Actually, Corff’s main job is fetching ingredients- he is not a good cook, and the mystery stew is evident of that. Sebastian decides he’ll go with a rabbit soup, thick and full of vegetables. He also starts to prepare some bread and cheeses, and Merrill washes and cuts fruit to be placed in honey. Varric had come down from his room to watch them.
“Do you think this will work?
Sebastian ignores him in favor of stirring the pot.
Fenris comes in a few minutes before Sunset. The food has been prepared, everything has been cleaned, and now all that was left to do was wait.
And pray to the Maker this doesn’t turn into another blunder.
Right around sunset, Hawke does enter the bar.
With Anders trailing right behind him.
Hatred. Pure, un-filtered hatred
“Hello, everyone!” Hawke says. Merrill is the only one to greet him in return.
(This is where the awkward silence occurs. The men, minus Varric, all stand in some sort of angry/confused/stupid manner. Varric has this put upon expression. Merrill is just too much of a happy person to understand the situation.)
“..Anders said he was lonely, so I invited him along. –Since Fenris said you, Merrill, and Varric would be here.” Hawke looks unsure. “That was ok, right?”
Sebastian whips his head to look at Fenris, who had been in charge of inviting Hawke to dinner. The elf looks angry at Ander’s presence, but also has a fair amount of embarrassment in his cheeks.
“I…May have insinuated that this was more of a…Friend dinner.” Fenris looked at the floorboards. “I did not want to appear…Too assuming.”
‘You are an idiot!’ Sebastian screams in his head. ‘How have you managed to stay living for so long?!’
Feeling a painful smile stretch across his face, the prince turns to Hawke. “Of course not, Hawke. I’m sure there’s enough food to go around.”
Anders, hidden behind Hawke, wears a smug grin. Fenris’s growl of displeasure cannot be ignored.
“Well,” Varric says, obviously trying to diffuse. “I think now’s as good a time as any to eat. Daisy, would you do me the honor of sitting-“
Suddenly, the doors to the Hanged Man are kicked open, and a stream of poorly armored mercenaries/raiders/gang members/slavers/grannies come pouring in.
“There’s the bastards who killed Armic!” Screams some women in the front who, by reason of screaming, must be some sort of Leader. “Kill ‘em, boys! Kill ‘em all!”
That is how the evening goes. Wave after wave of stupid bandits rush at them, and everyone fighting them off. Well, Corff doesn’t, but everyone else, yes.
Hawke rushes at them, twin blades bared. Fenris follows behind, and together the exploit each-others fine points, creating an almost unstoppable team. Sebastian and Varric let arrow after arrow fly, talking out other archers and those who try to attack their companions from behind. Anders alternates between flames and healing magic, and Merrill tears through large groups of bandits with a wrath unlike her usual happy self.
A few men make to attack Varric and himself, who are stationed near Corff’s usual bartending counter. Varric decides a counter-measure must be acted.
With horror, Sebastian watches his hot, wonderful, fresh soup thrown into the faces of a couple men like scalding water. Something in his heart breaks, and unbeknownst to his comrades, a single tear is shed from the prince.
When it’s all over, dozens of dead bodies lie across the floor. Blood stains the floor, bits of guts are strewn across the walls, and most of the food is now worthless.
The worst (Sebastian sees this as best, however) part is that Anders is a complete moron, and decided to use flame spells in a closed building. The entire tavern is now a lovely black charcoal color (the wood tables and chairs are now actual charcoal).
Corff screams at Anders, Merrill eats the honey fruit that somehow wasn’t ruined, and Hawke and Fenris are covered in blood. Varric is un-amused, and Sebastian is quite torn between crying over his luck and laughing at Anders.
Varric stares across the now blacked tavern. “When I chronicle this whole ‘romance’, it will be a lot smoother. And have a lot less stupid in it.”
“Please do that.” Sebastian says, rubbing his temple. “By the Maker, please do that.”
The romantic dinner was a bust. –But not through any fault of Sebastian’s.
He really managed to just…underestimate Fenris’s stupidity. And Hawke’s.
(And of course Anders is a hell spawn, but that goes without saying these days.)
-Point being, the dinner wasn’t bad. It actually would’ve been delicious, romantic, and am overall success, had plans not been ruined by an unwelcome, smelly, and stupid interruption. (The Bandits had been a throwback as well.)
Sebastian decides that the Dinner idea is still feasible. However, the location of the dinner should be a more secluded, homey atmosphere; preferably in Hightown, as Sebastian is all but sick of the Hanged Man.
The choices are set between Fenris’s house and Hawke’s.
… Hawke’s house it is.
(There is too much horrible things wrong with the idea of eating supper at Fenris’s house, far too much to go into detail, but suffice to say: rotting corpses’ and dusty antiques do not a romantic dinner make.)
Dinner went splendid, actually.
It really did. Things were a bit different then how he’d wanted them to be, but Dinner went fine anyways.
See, Sebastian couldn’t just up and take over the Hawke Estate for a night; he had to get permission. And he knew, of course, that while Hawke may own the house, the person he’d need permission from would be he mother.
So Sebastian had to ask the Lady of the House.
She said of course Fenris could come to dinner- in fact they were having dinner tomorrow, with Aveline and her new Beau Donnic; Fenris was more than welcome to come, and Sebastian wouldn’t you please join us?
Yes, ok, this is not according to the plans. –But Leandre is such a lovely, persuasive women, and she was serving him cakes.
(Sebastian cannot be trusted to make decisions when given cake. He is entirely too malleable when presented with the sweet confectionary, and should he take throne, Starkhaven would most likely be sighed away for a slice of chocolate pastry.)
So everyone had arrived, and Bodahn had made a wonderful dinner of roasted pig, with hearty bread and fine spirits and wines. Leandre had made a fine hostess, making sure everyone talked to each other (Hawke and Fenris did actually talk to each other. While it was still horrible awkward, it didn’t involve fists, so a point to them, Sebastian supposed). Everyone had eaten, no arguments broke out, and Sebastian didn’t have to drink himself to oblivion to put up with any antics or mishaps.
Technically, dinner was a success.
(After dinner is when everything went tits up.)
Everyone leaves the dining room to retire into the study. Chairs have been set around a warm fire, with more spirits and wine available. It is cozy, and comfortable, and Sebastian feels a pang of nostalgia for his family is Starkhaven; the small dinners they’d had, with Grandfather and Grandmother telling stories, and cousins playing hide and seek behind heavy furniture.
(He doesn’t cry, anymore. That wound had healed, as much as it ever would, at least.)
Everything would have gone wonderfully. It had everything needed to become a romantic evening, despite the excess company.
(The company is almost always the problem. Sebastian should have learned this by now.)
Fenris is talking to Donnic. In and of itself, that shouldn’t be a problem. Everyone is speaking to someone- Hawke and Aveline are discussing the merits of different Fereldan armor, Fenris and Donnic are talking about cards, and Leandre is just regaling him some wonderful stories of a young Hawke in Lothering. Everything was peaceful.
Until Hawke heard Fenris laugh.
Now, the majority of the issues Sebastian has dealt with can be placed solely on Fenris. However, this does not leave Hawke without fault; the man is quite capable of acting just as idiotic and pig-headed, if not more-so.
With this knowledge, Sebastian cannot find the strength on himself to be surprised at Hawke’s new ‘jealous’ quirk. He just has to sit back and watch Hawke, who moves to sit just directly behind the two, make an ass out of himself.
(And oh, yes he does.)
Every time Donnic says something that makes Fenris laugh, Hawke will glare so hard Sebastian is glad nothing catches on fire. Every time Fenris tells a complement, Hawke looks at though he’s about to cry; like someone had taken his Mabari pup and punted it across a field.
It gets so childish and Hawke takes to miming Donnic in a mocking, childish way. -And Donnic can see him, of course he can. However, it’s obvious to him what’s going on, so he doesn’t call Hawke on it; simply sends an amused, if exasperated look towards everyone else. Fenris can’t, since Hawke is behind him (also because Fenris is an idiot), and Hawke doesn’t notice because he’s two busy making a fool of himself (again, idiot.)
(Maker Bless them that both of them were men- the possibility of children between these two would have, quite literally, killed the prince.)
At least Leandre is finding this amusing. She spares a look at Hawke, and then turns to whisper to Sebastian.
“Malcolm would get this way too, when I’d talk to other men. He was always a jealous man- never violent, never mean to me after; he was just selfish for my attention.” She sighs fondly and makes to get up, speaking to the room as she does. “I think I’ll head up to bed now. Please don’t think I’m leaving to kick any of you out- Garrett will be more than happy to entertain you while I’ve retired. Right, Garret?”
If Hawke’s initial reaction face could curdle milk, then Leandre’s threatening glare was a First Enchanter’s fire bomb spell.
(First Enchanter Orsino doesn’t really have much fire spells, however. He prefers Ice magic- something about freezing an enemy alive to make them watch or something…)
“O-Of Course, Mother.” Hawke slightly stutters out, and his mothers gives an approving look before heading out.
“Good-night, everyone. Have a safe trip home.” After a chorus of farewells followed her out the door, the rest of the party went back to conversing.
(Two things should be noted: Fenris and Donnic were the only ones to go back to conversing. Also, that Fenris and Donnic were the only two conversing before Leadre left. Hawke had sat next to the two and eavesdropped. Aveline moved to sit next to Sebastian, and both watched with a disappointed air.)
“Sebastian.” Aveline says softly. “Does Hawke usually act this way?”
The archer sighed. “Aveline, I can assure you: Every bit of stupid, juvenile, or awkward trait Hawke exhibits, it is completely natural. The same goes for Fenris.” Sebastian takes a long swig of his drink. “They are both stupid. Very, very stupid.”
Aveline regards him. “You’ve been at this for a while, haven’t you.”
She says it as a statement, not as a question. Sebastian can only take another swallow, if only to prevent himself from bursting into hysterics. (He will break, he can feel it: their stupidity will one day kill him. He will die because they are so stupid. He will literally die.)
Donnic excuses himself to go sit by his wife. Fenris nods, and Hawke grins. The rouge all but jumps into the guardsmen’s now vacant seat, but when he does, he freezes. Fenris does as well.
Suddenly, they are both awkward and fumbling around each other.
“They are really bad at this, eh?” Donnic bluntly stats. “It seems completely transparent to everyone who isn’t them.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “They are hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”
Aveline watches as Hawke continues to bumble around Fenris, and Fenris bumbles quite as equally.
“Sebastian, I…Wasn’t this bad at this, was I?”
Sebastian levels a very bland look at her. Donnic suddenly finds his cup completely fascinating.
(Leandre Hawke falls asleep to dream of a house filled with children; her son laughing as he twirls two squealing boys around, Fenris smiling as a tiny girl plays with his hair.)
“Ok.” Sebastian whispers to himself. He’s in his chantry quarters, late at night, lying in his small but comfortable bed and staring at the ceiling. “Ok.”
He has to think of a plan. He has to. He’s running out of options- ever thing he attempts to do backfires in his face. Drink date? No. Shopping Trip? Nope. Pick Up Lines? Embarrassing. Romantic Dinner? Still no. Romantic Dinner not at the Hanged man? Do not speak of it. And the dozens of times he’s tried before were also a testament to disappointment.
(In an Alternate Reality, this constant failure is the motivating force that drives Sebastian to reclaim Starkhaven. The Prince would forever be known as the Wolf Lord, as his rage-filled heart would allow him to strike enemies down at a horrifying speed, granting no one mercy. In another, he simply gives up, moves out of Kirkwall, and lives in a Convent for the rest of his days, forever cursing the Champion and his companions as blind idiots.)
There is still hope. Somehow, someway, he will get them together.
(Sebastian is desperate. Sebastian is sick of this. Sebastian is slowly losing his mind.)
After a particularly extracting day filled with killing slavers, everyone retires back to the hanged man to rest and relax. Merrill had left with Aveline to head home, and everyone else sat around the table chatting.
Sebastian is at his wits end.
Fenris and Hawke are obviously attracted to each other- however, every attempt at conversation ends with a huge blowup or misunderstanding or agreement or, even worse, an interruption.
Sebastian isn’t giving up, though. He will get them together- his sanity depends on it.
“Fenris.” He whispers harshly. “Go over to Hawke and start and ask if you can buy him a drink.”
Fenris looks doubtful. “I do not wish to imply Hawke cannot buy his own drinks- he has much more money then I do, and can certainly buy his own.”
Sebastian feels his head start to pound, but works through it. “It is a common way to show interest in someone. Go. Buy. Hawke. The drink.”
Fenris is still unsure, but goes to sit by Hawke anyways. Sebastian can see Anders make a face, and little evil thrill goes up his spine.
This is of course when everything goes to hell.
Although starting out innocent enough, with Hawke agreeing to the drink, Fenris is apparently too stupid to realize that when you buy someone a drink, they will in turn buy one for you.
This leads to Fenris becoming indignant at Hawke’s audacity to buy him something, because of course it’s insinuating that as a former slave he can’t afford more than one drink. Which makes Hawke understandably upset, and then a screaming match to rival Meredith and the First Enchanter ensues. All while Sebastian bashes his head against the table.
It ends with both storming out of the bar, Fenris threatening in Tevinter, and Hawke growling “I don’t know why I even try.”
(Sebastian is very tempted to scream out the same, but thumping his head against the table is surprisingly therapeutic and calming.)
After, the bar goes back to working, and Sebastian stops hitting his head repeatedly. Anders, however, speaks arrogantly to an exasperated Varric and Isabella.
“Good. Hawke deserves someone better than that rabid dog.”
Sebastian excuses himself from the bar in order to step outside and scream.
In the end, Fenris messes it all up.
They day starts as plain as any other day. Sebastian rises with the sun, attending the sunrise service. He cleans up the gardens, packs some food for some orphans he’d seen near an abandoned Lowtown house, and goes to read up on books he hadn’t the time to finish.
When he gets to his room, however, there is an elf waiting for him.
“Fenris?” He says, startled. “I didn’t expect you. How…are you feeling?”
Sebastian is, of course, talking about the events near Sundermount. According to Isabella and Merrill, the four of them had confronted one of Fenris’s former master’s Apprentices- a brutal, wicked woman named Hadriana. Fenris had ripped out her heart, once they were done interrogating her. However, Isabella and Merrill had only witnessed a little of Fenris and Hawke’s fight afterwards- Fenris had run away, and Hawke had chased after him. Sebastian hadn’t wanted to push either on details.
(Apparently, though, He hadn’t even need too- the sources came by themselves.)
“Sebastian.” Fenris greets. “I need to speak with you.”
“Well, speak then.” Sebastian says, unclasping his Brother robes to reveal a simple tunic and pants beneath. “What troubles you?”
Fenris takes a deep breath, and then exhales.
“I spent the night with Hawke.”
Sebastian stares a moment, then feels a wonderful little bubble of happiness burst in his chest.
“You spent the night? Do you mean ‘spent the night’ or ‘Spent the Night’?” Fenris glares at Sebastian’s filthy grin.
“I ‘Spent the Night’ if it makes you happy. That is not…” Fenris frowns at the floor. “I have broken off my Relationship with Hawke.”
The wonderful little bubble of happiness turns to a lead ball and drops to his stomach.
“You…What?” Sebastian asked, shocked. Fenris looks askew.
“I…Began to have memories. I can’t, I don’t…” Fenris is frustrated, and sits down on Sebastian’s bed. “I can’t be with him. Not…When I’m like this.” The elf looks at him. “I thought you’d like to know.”
‘No,’ Sebastian thinks. ‘No, I really didn’t.’
He collects himself, though, and says the only thing that would possible save this situation.
“You need to tell him these things, Fenris. Truly, you need to tell him.”
Fenris nods slightly, but the feeling in Sebastian’s stomach does not abate.
(Fenris does not tell Hawke. He instead chooses to stay silent on the subject, and to Sebastian’s knowledge there is no communication between them, let alone a second night. Hawke becomes a miserable, puppy-eyed wreck, Fenris refuses to admit any relationship -save a stolen scarf-, the group is forced to walk on eggshells, Anders gloats, and Sebastian slowly stops talking to Fenris.)
(Sebastian slowly starts to hate Fenris..)
After…After the events with Hawke’s mother Leandre (lovely Leandre, who visited him the Chantry every so often, more when she’d learned of his friendship with her son; who prayed for a husband and son and a daughter she so clearly missed, who smiled and laughed and sang the chant so wonderfully and-).
After the events with Hawke’s mother, things change. In more than the obvious.
It was almost easy to help Hawke in the immediate moments afterwards. After watching his mother fade away, away from the horrible patchwork monstrosity of a body she’d been trapped in, Hawke…broke. He’d cried and cried and cried, like a babe. He’d held onto her, what was left of her, cursing and sobbing, blaming everyone and anything, but mostly himself.
It was Sebastian who’d comforted him.
Anders had stood there, shell shocked- the magic here too horrid and terrible for him to wrap his mind around. Fenris faired a bit better, but was frozen nonetheless. Though both men claimed to care for Hawke, they seemed to do a piss pore job of showing it.
Sebastian had dropped his bow and knelt beside the grieving man, laying a hand on his shoulder. Hawke’s shaking was violent- his sobs racking his body as though being heaved from the Maker himself. Sebastian ended up pulling the man into his arms, murmuring nonsense. Rocking him back and forth like a babe in arms.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Hawke-“
“She’s gone, she’s gone- oh maker why, she’s gone, gone-“
“I know, oh, by Andraste I know.”
It’s not something he wants to think about. To watch his best friend in the entire world crumble, wailing with agony over the women who gave birth to him- to see someone go through the same pain and suffering he himself had (Hawke lost his mother, but he’d already lost a Father, a Brother, friends and relatives in Lothering, a Sister to the Grey Wardens, his lover to cowardness-).
Sebastian ended up taking him home, the other two spinelessly running away as soon as they’d reached the opening of the sewers. Hawke didn’t even notice; he just continued to cry weakly, his voice horse and broken from screaming.
When he’d gotten the rogue home, Orana and Bodahn fretted, taking him upstairs. He could see Hawke’s seedy uncle standing in the foyer, ready to start interrogating.
“Not now.” Sebastian cut. “I will tell you everything you want to know, but by the Maker let Hawke be.” His voice cut like fire, and Gamlen shrunk in the face of it.
By the end of the explanation, the man had almost thrown up, cursing magic and crying, storming out of the house soon after. Sebastian did nothing to stop him, instead taking the moment to all but collapse into a chair.
“This is a mess.” Sebastian whispered. Understatement, of course, but it needed voicing anyway.
(He can hear Hawke’s sobs from here. He can hear Bodahn’s soft voice trying to calm Sandal, who is crying for the nice lady to come back. Sebastian’s heart clenches like the grip of a mabari, and suddenly in this moment it’s hard to breath.)
Scrubbing his face with his hands, he looks up to see Hawke’s serving girl, Orana, standing shyly in front of him.
“Miss Orana?” he said, tired and still upset. The elf looked down at her feet.
“M-master Hawke is in bed. He is…very sad. I heard him crying…for his mama.” She wrung her hands and looked up. “He could use a hug, Messier. I know you’re his friend, so…” Sebastian smiled softly, tiredly, and reached out to her hand.
“Orana, will you come with me? I think he’ll need more than one hug tonight.” He stood up. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”
The girl nodded softly and followed the prince up the stairs.
Hawke wasn’t crying anymore, and if anything that was worse. Now, he looked broken, staring empty at the wall. His mabari Wesker sat near his bedside, nuzzling his hand. As the prince and elf entered the room, the hound gave a soft whimper.
“Good boy, Wesker.” Sebastian said softly. The dog gave another whine and nudged the hand again.
When he’d learned that his family had been murdered, Sebastian had destroyed his room in rage. Books had been shredded, statutes broken, even his chantry robes destroyed in anger. After, he’d curled up on his bed and cried. Mother Elthina had calmly entered his room that day, and headless of the mess and destruction, laid down beside him and held him. Even as he’d cursed and screamed, she’d held him in her arms as a mother would (as his mother had).
It had helped. For all that it was a simple kindness, it had helped.
Sebastian stripped out of his armor, leaving only his tunic and leggings on. Orana stepped daintily out of her shoes, and took off her serving apron. As the prince made his way to Hawke’s side, he could see the anguish fighting against tiredness.
“Hawke, go to sleep.” The rogue looked suddenly up, panic in his eyes. Sebastian laid a calm hand on his shoulder and pushed him down onto the bed. “I’ll be right here, so will Orana- even Wesker’s here. We won’t leave you.” Tears began to leak from the man’s eyes, and Sebastian felt his heart clench.
“Promise?” Hawke asks, voice still cracked and rough, obviously on the edge of crying. “Promise me you’ll stay?” He looks to Orana, and chokes on another sob. “Please?”
Sebastian doesn’t answer with words; he tucks Hawke down into the bed, and then shuffles the blankets over him. The archer then slips over the bed and takes his place behind Hawke.
“I’ll be here, Hawke.” He says, hugging his friend from behind. “For as long as you need me, I’ll be here.” Orana scoots into the bed as well, and Hawke hugs her to him almost immediately. Sebastian is able then to move his arm to cover hers as well; shielding Hawke in a complete embrace.
“Master, we love you.” Orana tucks her head under Hawke’s chin, and squeezes him. “Please don’t be sad anymore- Mistress wouldn’t have wanted you to be.”
Wesker, with his Mabari intelligence, understands that this one time, it was probably ok for him to jump on the bed. So he did, and placing his large head over Hawke’s lap, he whined a sad tune.
Hawke cried more that night, but Sebastian liked to think it was a little less than had he been alone.
He’s in the Chantry the morning next, finishing up a prayer for dear Leandre. The prince had left Hawke earlier that morning, having spent the night in Hawke’s bed.
Really, if Hawke had been anything other than his best friend, Sebastian would’ve felt uncomfortable, and not a little bit guilty- waking up with the man wrapped around him would’ve been the least strange thing, back when he’d been- well, not a chantry brother.
But that was a testament; not to how much he’d changed, but how much he cared for Hawke. And really, he did.
Orana had woken up far earlier than either of them, deciding to make a large breakfast of eggs and porridge and even some slices of fresh bread. Hawke had woken at the sounds of her serving cutlery, and smiled sleepily.
“You needn’t do that, Orana. You could’ve stayed in bed.” Hawke’s brain has suddenly caught up with him, and he flustered around. “I mean, not, not IN BED, of course, I mean, you could’ve-“ Sebastian couldn’t take it- he began to laugh, and only laughed harder at Hawke’s face when he realized the archer was in the bed with him. Even Orana had to out her tray down to clutch her stomach.
“Hawke- Hawke-“ Sebastian squeezed out in between laughs, “it’s fine! We understand!”
Orana wiped some tears from her eyes. “Master, it’s really fine!”
Hawke smiled, but soon it softens into a guilty, terrible expression.
“She….She’s really gone, isn’t she.” It was a statement. Sebastian put his hand on his friend’s shoulder anyway.
“I’m sorry Hawke. She is.” As the rogue took a shuddering breath, Sebastian leaned in and hugged him. “There is nothing I can say to make you feel better. There is no absolution, no forgiveness I can give you, because those things,” he gives a tight squeeze, “are things you can only give yourself. I have been where you are, and I know.” He released Hawke. “I know that right now you are blaming yourself.”
Orana stepped forward and placed her hand on the grieving man. “Your mama wouldn’t want you to be sad- I know my papa wouldn’t.”
They shared breakfast together, all three of them. Afterwards, Orana treated them to song. Though it was in Arcanum, the words were bright and sharp, like a bird’s song. She finished, and Hawke sent her out with two gold pieces.
“Use it all. If you come back with less than three pretty dresses-not aprons, no, and smocks don’t count- I will be most displeased.”
“But-“
“Three, Orana. At least three. And matching necklaces.”
Orana left in put upon huff, and Sebastian got up and gathered his armor, chuckling.
“I’ll be back later. Please Hawke, try to get some rest.” Hawke nodded weakly. As Sebastian headed out however, he called out softly.
“Thank you Sebastian. I…Thank you.”
Sebastian smiles softly.
“Get some rest, Hawke.” He makes to leave.
“Did Fenris come?”
Simultaneously, fury and a softer side of pity welled in his heart.
“No. No he didn’t.”
“…Ok.” And Hawke burrowed himself under the cover again.
So Sebastian is in the chantry, feeling all around terrible for his best friend, and also extremely angry, because Fenris had never even shown up at Hawke’s mansion. After everything he’d done to help the elf, from sabotaging Ander’s dates to setting up great opportunities with Hawke, to just sticking up for him- and he can’t find the decency, the courage, to see Hawke in what was probably the worst time of his life.
‘I don’t even feel angry about that’, Sebastian realizes. ‘I’m not angry that he’s ruined my work. I’m angry that he’s breaking Hawke’s heart. He’s absolutely breaking his heart.’
He hears a soft scuffle, bare feet on stone, and Sebastian turns.
Fenris is standing right there, looking troubled and ready to ask for something.
Mother Elthina, when he’d first been sent to the chantry, had said his biggest weakness, his biggest obstacle would be his temper. Sebastian had taken this to heart- he’d worked on it, on being calm and collected during danger. He’d carved out patience from his fire, training his mind to not jump onto action, to fight or rage at every little provocation.
Seeing Fenris, standing here, instead of with Hawke-
It all goes flying out the window with Sebastian’s right hook.
“You bastard.” He hisses though clenched teeth. “You absolute sodding bastard. How could you do this? How?!” Fenris clutches his face and growls, beginning to glow, but Sebastian’s blind fury doesn’t allow him to care. He picks the elf up and slams him against a pillar.
He looks the elf straight in the eye, and something must show there, because suddenly Fenris stops glowing. He actually looks a bit cowed, but Sebastian could care less at this moment.
“You are killing him.” Sebastian hisses. “Every time you ignore him, every time you argue and fight with him, every time you refuse to acknowledge even that one night- you kill him.” Sebastian pushes Fenris into the wall further. “And now? His mother is dead Fenris, dead, and you dare come to me? To ask me for what, advice? Favors?” he snarls in disgust. “Never again. You will never, never receive any help from me.” He drops the elf on the floor.
“You are on your own.” Sebastian spits. “Destroy your chance at happiness, ruin your life- I don’t give a shit. But-“ he says lower. “So help me Fenris, if you break his heart again, I will murder you. With the Maker as my witness, I will kill you faster then my arrow flies.”
Fenris is shaken enough by the altercation to leave quickly, and this is best outcome, because really Sebastian should have expected his heart ripped out as the outcome. Still furious, though, he grabs his bow and heads to the chantry garden to practice his aim.
Later, Sebastian will mourn Leandre properly. Later, he’ll feel regret and guilt over his words. Later, he’ll apologize to Fenris, to the Maker. Later, he’ll visit Hawke.
But it’s not later, yet.
Sebastian gets to contemplate murder for a bit.
For the next week, everything is quite. Hawke stays at home, with all of his companions visiting him. Sebastian doesn’t see nor hear from Fenris, and as his current opinion for the man still stands as ‘I’ll bloody murder him’, that worked out fine.
The next time he does see Hawke, though, the man looks deciding-ly better.
“Sebastian!” Hawke smiles from his spot in the library. He’s right near the fire, letters spread around him, along with some food and wine, while Wesker lays sleeping beside his chair. “I’m happy you came- Aveline brought over bread enough to feed the entire Guard. I know I won’t be able to eat all of it, even with everyone’s help so far.” Hawke chuckles. “You’d never guess how much Orana can eat when motivated.”
“I’m glad you feel better Hawke.” Sebastian takes a seat next to Hawke, and begins to cut the bread. “I take it you’ve been resting, then.”
Hawke nods. “Yes, I have. I’m…Better. Not healed. But,” Hawke says tentatively. “I think I will be. I think mother would have…wanted me. To move on, I mean.”
Sebastian nods softly. “The Maker holds her close to him, Hawke. She is at peace, and would wish it upon you as well.: Hawke gives him a tight smile, so Sebastian doesn’t say anything else.
It’s a few minutes later, after some bread had been eaten but no words had exchanged, before Hawke out the letter he was reading down.
“Fenris came over, last night.”
Sebastian doesn’t choke of the bread he’s eating, but it’s close. “Really? He came over? What did he say?”
Hawke grins ruefully. “Not much. I…Wasn’t in a very good state when he showed up. He attempted to talk to me, I guess to cheer me…” Hawke shakes his head. “He’s bloody terrible at it.” Before Sebastian has a chance to get angry, though, Hawke continues. “-But is it weird, maybe, to say that I appreciated it? I mean, yes, he was terrible, and it’s far too late for condolences, but-“ Hawke doesn’t bother continuing, and Sebastian doesn’t ask him too.
It’s maybe twenty minutes later, which both Sebastian and Hawke had been spending in silence, before Hawke speaks softly.
“Love is a stupid, terrible, absolutely horrid idea.”
Sebastian sips his wine and sighs. “Believe me, I know.”
In what seems like a day, Hawke has suddenly defended the city from a siege of Qunari, narrowly defeated the Arishok (Fenris had another great idea), and became the Champion of Kirkwall.
He also lost one of his best friend to fear and selfishness.
Sebastian could see the anger and betrayal written over the man’s face, plain as daylight.
“I was going to help her.” Hawke whispers into his empty mug. “Everything would’ve been fine. I wasn’t going to give her up- I wasn’t…”
Sebastian hadn’t been fond of Isabella. He didn’t hate her, didn’t even disliked her- she had existed in the peripheral of his life; the very fringe of what he did. He had fought with her on occasion, enjoyed card games, and even bantered. But she was still more of a friend of a friend.
Hawke had always loved her though. She had the same humor, the same teasing, sarcastic humor that Hawke would sometimes flash out, when not being his usual diplomatic way. They’d even shared the same taste in men.
Sebastian was starting to see that Hawke hadn’t lost a friend. He’d lost another sibling, another sister, to something bigger than he could prevent.
Sebastian a claps a hand to his shoulders and stays silent.
The next three yeas pass in a blur as well. Varric publishes more books, Merrill continues working on her evil tainted mirror, Aveline and Donnic get Married (how much fun had that wedding been- who knew Aveline could hold a fete so entertaining?), and Anders writes Manifestos like they would somehow restore the Tevinter Empire overnight.
Fenris and Hawke continue to dance around each other, and Sebastian forces himself not to care. Hawke also begins to spend more time with Anders, flirts with a (former) Antivan Crow, even tells Sebastian he’d contemplated going to the Blooming Rose (which upsets him, but he knows it neither his business nor his responsibility).
‘It is no longer my worry.’ He reminds himself each day. ‘Hawke is a grown man, and Fenris is a complete idiot. Let them work it out.’
Imagine his surprise when they do, indeed work it out.
Fenris is the one to break the news.
“Sebastian, could I have a moment?” The archer raised an eyebrow and followed the elf back to a more private section of the chantry, though open enough that should anything happen (like a chest being ripped out), someone would see it.
Sebastian was not an idiot, thank you. He and Fenris, while having a good ‘working’ relationship (no one wanted to worry about teammates being fickle on the battlefield), were still very much frigid in terms of everywhere else.
“What is it you’d like to speak about, Fenris?” The elf sighs and scratches his head.
“I…Wanted to be the first to tell you- I think I owe you that much…” He took a deep breath and released it. “Hawke and I are back together.”
Sebastian doesn’t try to mask his disbelief. “You- you are? Truly? By the Maker- How? When?” ‘why’ was the next question, but Sebastian wisely kept that one to himself.
“I went to him. After…Denarius.”
That event is not something Sebastian will forget. From seeing Fenris’s shocked, terrified expression, to watching Hawke become some sort agents of anger and justice, raining furry upon the bar, unstoppable and unyielding; seeing Fenris, crying, tearing the heart out of a man that had put so much pain upon him, upon so many others.
It was the only time Sebastian had seen Fenris cry. It was also the second time he’d seen Hawke as well.
Hawke had lead the emotionally overwrought elf back to high town, while Sebastian had volunteered to help Merrill and Varric clean up the bar. There had been no wise-cracks, no playful banter or innocent questioning. They had cleaned in silence, full silence; the bar had all but cleared out during and after the fight, and Corff was stiffly and solemnly cleaning with his barmaids as well. After finishing, Varric had headed upstairs to chronicle the events, while Sebastian had offered to walk Merrill home.
He had stopped them before they could leave, Corff had.
“I want you to give this to Fenris.” He’d stated. In his hands he’d held a pretty large basket, filled with hardy bread and cheeses, as well as a few large bottles of wine. “I…Understand how hard this day has been on him. Please let him know I’m not angry about the bar- it wasn’t his fault.” Corff had handed the basket to Merrill and wrung his hands. “Please, take this to him. Tell him I said ‘Get well’. Or something…”
Merrill all but shoved the basket fro Sebastian to grab, and hand thrown her arms around the then blushing Corff. “I will, Corff. Thank you for being such a gentlemen.”
Sebastian spoke his thanks as well, and together they’d headed out the door.
“Are you going to take that to Fenris?” Merrill had asked lightly. They had just made it to the Alieanage, the sun just beginning to turn orange in the sky.
“I will. I’ll head there straight after I take you home. Is there anything you’d like me to say?” Merrill shook her head.
“No. I don’t think anything I say could really be of use to him now- he needs rest. And maybe tea. Oh, I love tea, though it’s far too expensive for me to buy. Well, that and water- clean water is the only kind you can use to make tea, and that’s hard to get in the Alianege. I can only drink it when I visit Hawke. Oh, do you think Fenris has to visit Hawke to drink tea? He probably has to- oh look Sebastian, I found another piece of candy in my pocket! Those little fairies, how do they do it? Do you think one day I could see them, possibly catch them in the act? Maybe?“
Standing outside of her house, Sebastian smiled. “We’re here, Merrill.” Merrill cut herself off from her rant and beamed.
“Wonderful! I’ll just be heading in, then.”
“Have a nice evening, Merrill.” The elf stood on the tip of her toes to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, Sebastian. Be safe.”
Sebastian wasn’t able to reach Hawke and Fenris for a few days, but when he had, they’d both been in better spirits. Actually, Fenris had been the happiest anyone had ever seen him, and Hawke was almost like he’d been before his Mother’s death. The group had cited the death of Denarius as the source, but now it seems there had been another event factoring in as well.
“So you are really back together?” Sebastian asked dazed.
Fenris, in a rare moment, grins. “Yes. I…Needed time. And a good deal of closure. Hawke was gracious enough to wait for me.” Fenris moved close, and had Sebastian not been frozen, he would have become the moment Fenris hugged him.
“Thank you, Sebastian.” The elf whispers. “You helped us so much. Thank you.”
Fenris leaves after that, calling softly that he will be accompanying them on tomorrow’s ingredient run for Anders.
Sebastian feels himself nod, and then collapses into a thankfully close chair.
They were together. They were really together.
Sebastian sobbed tears of the most ultimate joy, weeping ‘never again, never again’.