romdeau | a fishing date;

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a fishing date;

There were no impromptu trips to Sundermount, in fact. Merrill had holed herself up with the Eluvian, avoiding Hawke whenever possible. The Arulin'Holm stayed at the estate, locked away somewhere, and the Dalish woman didn't want to see or hear from Hawke without good cause. Which was understandable (upsetting, but understandable), and she let Varric and Isabela take over Merrill's undertaking. They'd update her whenever possible and she was infinitely grateful, though she knew things couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually, they'd need to talk, and that would happen when Marian was good and ready. For now, she wasn't.

First on her mind was Anders and his mage underground. He would disappear for days on end, surfacing only to work in his clinic where he would refuse to go on any errands. Too busy, he'd say, occupied with his patients and his manifesto. It didn't stop him from pressing worn papers into her hands at every opportunity, the bastard. Her desk was full of Anders' scrawl, damning evidence if anyone should walk in and ask about it. She'd been certain to lock them in the bottom drawer, out of sight and out of mind, but she couldn't put him off any more than she could push aside the trouble she had with Merrill.

With her hands full of Kirkwall's smaller troubles - bandits, a few raiders on the outskirts, and a blood mage or two - she had nearly forgotten her plans with Cullen until she returned one night to a note on her desk at the end of the week. Even such a simple thing was enough to brighten her mood considerably and she packed that evening, though she wasn't to meet him for two more days.

She used the time to tell only a few that she'd be gone from the city, that no one was kidnapping her, and that she'd be very cross if she came back to find Kirkwall burning in her absence. Only Isabela and Varric gave her a hard time for her attempts at discretion, asking for details and gaining nothing.

By sunset on the second day, she was down by the docks to meet him, a pack slung over one arm and her blades across her shoulders, her eyes on the ships and the few workers lingering around. She couldn't be too careful, even now.

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"A little Chantry outpost could very well be like Lothering, where you'd be called upon to deal with giant spiders, bears, and wolves. You might be better off dealing with the insanity of Kirkwall," she said with a grin.

She laughed softly. "There's no getting between a man and his meal, not that I blame you. You can blame me for making you late by refusing to give that letter you needed." And that was assuming their little soiree at the Blooming Rose got back to Meredith. With any luck, it wouldn't, though she was almost certain some rumor would come out of that night, even if it was a paltry one.

Raising an eyebrow, she paused as his fingers brushed beneath the cut on her face. She'd forgotten. "It doesn't hurt. It's fine." At least she hadn't been bleeding profusely. "But I should clean it up anyway before someone fusses." She nodded her head back towards the estate, reaching up for his hand. "Come on, let's have some now so you don't need to rush to go."

"You just had to say spiders, didn't you?" He laughed. "By all means. Let me stay here with the shades and lunatics ranting in Darktown about the great evil under the city. Not saying I disbelieve them. For all we know it's the reason they're insane." He didn't think there were too many places in Thedas one could say that flippantly but still mean every word.

"Oh, yes, our great ruse. If need be, I shall. It's my hope I don't have to mention anything about that to Meredith at all." It would depend on how angry Aveline was about his getting mouthy with her guard.

"Yes, you should, or I'll be one of the ones fussing." He squeezed her hand and nodded, turning to head back inside with her. "I'm surprised my stomach isn't growling as loudly as an enraged mabari. We have more than worked up our appetites tonight."

"It would certainly explain why this city is so utterly off sometimes." She couldn't put her finger on what it was but Kirkwall seemed to be corrupted with a malice and a darkness all to its own. She didn't know how else to describe it. "Shades and lunatics or spiders and bears. And people think Templars have it easy."

She nodded. "I hope you won't have to but that crab comment might follow us both into the Void for all I know." That would be all she'd need to hear from Aveline. She could barely suppress a roll of her eyes at the thought.

Huffing quietly, she tugged him along. "Don't start. I didn't get my leg sliced open, remember." Although, she supposed she deserved it for all of the looks she had given him. Her smile sharpened at the edges. "Between the actual outing and then fighting for our heads, I would say you're right."

"Oh, sure. Easy enough to think we just stand around in the courtyard looking extraordinarily handsome in our gleaming armor without another care in the world. I can see how people get that impression." His cheeks colored faintly. He couldn't get all of that out without it.

"Maker." He dragged his free hand down the side of his face. "I don't know what came over me with that. I was just so flustered. She does that. She glares at you, and it's instant fluster. I don't know if it's a Coterie skill or something she picked up running the brothel. It's bloody inconvenient is what it is."

He was close on her heels. "Which is completely healed now, and I got a new pair of pants in the bargain. How often does anyone get to say that?" He nodded and cleared his throat. "Of course I'm right. It won't do me any good if I starve before I can truly gloat." The smell coming from the kitchen had his mouth watering.

His blush had her laughing softly, a spark of mirth in her gaze. "The older Templars are very good actors, you know. I can walk past you and you'd barely bat an eyelash at me. Your recruits are similar - as you said yourself - to a weaving circle. Bunch of nervous gossipers when you get them going." Which would be why she bothered them when she wanted information. Getting anything out of any Templar other than Thrask was like pulling teeth out of a mabari.

"That's the point. If you couldn't lose your head with her, she wouldn't be so effective at running the place. I've never had that problem with other members of the Coterie, though." She grinned and shook her head. "I'm no more welcome there than you are, trust me."

She gave him a once-over glance, raising an eyebrow. "Tighter pants, too, actually." As if she hadn't noticed. "I'll wait a week before believing we lucked out, though," she said as she opened the door for him. One look inside had her catching her dog laying beneath the counter where they had been working, tongue lolling out. They weren't the only one anticipating their fine meal. "Oh, poor you. We kept you waiting."

"That's why we tell them not to talk to other people, for all the good it does," he said, rolling his eyes. "We never had that problem at Kinloch Hold. Hard for people to waltz in when the only access point is a very small boat that rows into a cave beneath the tower. You don't get unintended visitors." It had other problems and on more than one occasion had proven problematic when there was trouble internal to the tower. Still, it was a frustration to him how vulnerable his recruits were to being pumped for information. The only other choice was to keep them locked down as tightly as the mages which was counterproductive to their training.

"I suppose that's comforting," he said with a chuckle. "I'd be concerned about spending time with anyone in good with one of the city's largest criminal organizations, no matter how charming the company."

There went the flush, all the way up the back of his neck. He didn't think the fit was that noticeable. "They're also a little short," he murmured. "I was able to hide that in the boots. It would have been more disturbing if they managed an exact fit." He nodded agreement about the rest of it. If there were going to be rumors, they'd take a little time to build traction.

He grinned outright at the sight of the dog. "To his credit, he didn't just help himself."

"You can't have all the fun, you know," she said with a mischievous look tossed back his way. "Looking back on it, them being spooked that Meredith was killing recruits before their vigil was almost comical. I thought it was horrifying at the time." But Bethany had been with her and she looked ready to flee at a moment's notice. "And you'll be pleased to know that they tell me they can't talk almost every time I speak with them." When they deigned to talk to her, there were only passing comments, hardly anything to do with sensitive information. She supposed they learned their lesson.

Hawke's smile was nearly wicked at the blush. "You tend to notice things when you're pressed against someone. Or when you're tending to their back." Had she not been that close, she probably wouldn't have thought they were any different from the ones he had worn previously. "I would have been suspicious if they'd had exactly your size," she agreed.

"He did not," she said quietly, going over to the dog to grab both of their plates. His tail wagged in delight. "You're a perfectly well behaved boy, aren't you, darling? Don't worry, you'll get some." She took their plates to the table and then went back for silverware, some of the bread they had, and to look to see if they just so happened to have butter.

"I still can't believe--no, that's not true. I completely believe the little idiots thought exactly that. It's gratifying to see them grow up a little after they make it through the program. They know they had better say they can't talk to you with the rest of us standing around watching." He shook his head. He had a love/hate relationship with recruits, the same as he imagined his superiors had with his lot when they were coming up. It was the way of things.

"Keep talking like that, and the crabs run a risk of getting cold," he murmured.

He arranged the crab plates conveniently for their reach while she was setting the table. He pressed a hand to his stomach when it growled audibly enough to carry. "Hush, you. It's almost time."

"The one didn't. Ser Ruvena. She thought it was nothing but rubbish. The other two, though..." She smiled. "They did their best not to talk to us, you know. You weren't there to give them the steely-eyed glare you do when someone's misbehaving. And considering the circumstances, I'm glad they cracked. I wouldn't have known where to find you otherwise."

Her smile was practically predatory. "And what host would I be if I sent you home hungry and unsatisfied?" She patted his arm. "Go sit. I'll get us some water and then we can dig in."

While she was busy, the dog followed Cullen to the table, eagerly anticipating his share. Hawke disappeared with two glasses and came back to set them on the table. She collected the rest of the silverware and handed them to him with a smile as she sat. "I think I've been waiting all week for this."

"That one has a good head on her shoulders." She still was reprimanded for letting slip where he had gone. It didn't matter that it turned out for the better. She had disobeyed a direct order. "Most of the time."

He found he liked that smile, keeping that to himself for now. "It looks as good as it smells."

He took his seat because she had asked and half stood when she returned to reach for the proffered silverware. "Thank you. It does feel as though it has been longer than one night. If it's all the same, let's try for a little less excitement for the next date."

"Considering what they looked like going in, I'd say you're absolutely right." But that was sadly true of most food, she found. It seemed so much more appealing once it was on your plate and you were half-starved.

She chuckled, sitting and grabbing one of the legs to start to pry out the meat. "Less excitement, he says, while suggesting we go together to the races. I see." She smiled. "I could go without fighting for our lives. Hopefully we'll have an easier evening next time we see one another. We'll just avoid going out after dark or lingering too long on our own."

Once she managed to pull some of the white meat out, she went to try it, a soft whine getting her attention. She frowned at the dog and popped the first piece into her mouth. "I get to have some first, you," she muttered, though she was already working out more for him. She sighed. "Maker's breath, that's actually good."

"We won't get jumped at the races. At worst, we'll have to break a straying hand to a belt pouch, and yes, I'd highly recommend a sunset curfew." It was an annoying truth that if they didn't want to run into trouble, they either needed to be in before dark or travel in a much bigger group. As the latter was out of the question, it left no other choice.

He cracked one of the legs and took a bite, closing his eyes and smiling satisfaction. He chewed and swallowed before attempting to speak. "Worth the wait." He wouldn't go so far as to say worth killing for. However, the attackers had every chance to back off. Their fates were on their heads as far as he was concerned.

"If we have any hope of privacy, a sunset curfew is necessary." There was no innuendo behind it; if they wanted to speak or have any time alone, it would have to be behind closed doors. He was absolutely right that the streets would be too dangerous for them to be out in at night, not unless they brought along an entourage. "So I suppose we'll need to figure out the where for that as well." She disliked the idea of constantly sending him back to the Gallows alone, especially after what had happened earlier.

She smiled as she pulled another piece out and chewed on it, rising from her chair. Heading to the cupboard, she pulled out a bowl and went back to the table to start making a small dish for the mabari at her feet. "Well worth the wait. I was afraid I had steered you wrong and these would turn out rubbery and terrible." What a mess that would have been. With enough meat pulled out, she scraped it into the bowl and lowered it for the dog, who settled down and pressed his muzzle in to begin wolfing down what she gave him. She chuckled as she cracked another leg for herself.

"It's true," he said, waving a crab leg at her. "Of all of the negative things I've thought about Kirkwall through the years, I never thought I'd add to that list that it puts a crimp in my dating. I find that offensive. I'd lodge a complaint if I knew who to take it to." He cracked the shell and dug out the meat, popping it into his mouth. After swallowing he said, "I somehow don't think our Guard-Captain would be impressed."

He watched her curiously when she stood, her purpose soon enough becoming clear. "You did a good job of hiding your uncertainty. I would never have guessed you expected them to be anything less than wonderful." He cracked another, wasting no time in eating. He hadn't been exaggerating when he said he had worked up an appetite.

"There are a few decent inns between Hightown and Lowtown, not fancy or showy but also not rat infested and that are clean. We could reserve at one of those."

She was grateful not to be eating when he said that or she may have choked. She laughed softly, stifling most of it with the back of her hand. "Unimpressed is an understatement. She'd probably cuff you up the side of the head and tell you to walk it off. After all, she found her love in a dark Lowtown alley, bruised and beaten." The thought of the complaint sitting on Aveline's desk kept the smile on her face.

"If I had been concerned, you would have worried, and that would have put a damper on things." Hawke operated in much the same way: putting on a brave face often kept spirits up in her ragged group. If she allowed herself to show the concern or the worry she had on a daily basis to the world at large, she wouldn't last. Kirkwall had a way of picking off the people who openly showed their weaknesses.

Humming softly, both in agreement and in appreciation at the food, she nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I can take a look around in the next week and get things settled for us, since you so graciously arranged our outing tonight."

"Oh, that is...sweet." There was a lot of tooth in that smile. Hopefully, he wasn't suicidal enough to go teasing Aveline about her romance any time this decade.

"Be still my heart. Date two and she's already protecting my feelings." He was still clearly teasing, the almost glee of it shining in his eyes. "That was actually kind of you and probably smart of you. It kept me from getting nervous and doing something stupid like dumping all of the seasoning in one go."

He nodded, chewing and swallowing before answering. "I would appreciate it. I can be surprised about where we wind up. I'll even hold off asking about it." That would be a difficult one to keep. It was his nature to question everything, part of what kept him alive in this city and before.

"You hush," she chided, though her grin matched his. "If she hears one word of it, you're going to be hanging outside of the Gallows by your toes with the biggest bruise you've ever had on your face. And whatever happens to me will make your fate seem like child's play." At least many in the guard knew how Aveline and Donnic had run into one another. It wouldn't be too difficult to say it had been one of them.

Her smile grew slightly, hidden around her fork until she finished chewing. "It would have been strong but it probably would have come out just fine. But now you know how to cook and shell crabs properly."

It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from smiling too much, even as her eyes gave away her intent well enough. "Excellent. I'll find us the most debauched inn for us to stay in - barring the Rose, of course, as that's clearly out of the question - and then I'll tell you I'm too tired to stay up. Or that I have a headache."

"She has no call to be so cranky. It ended well for her, didn't it?" He held up a hand innocently. "It's...an inspiring story to us all." His voice shook a little with his effort not to laugh.

"I do! And won't ever go crabbing at night again unless I plan to make a weekend of it. In a flat bottomed boat." There was the slightest touch of a wicked light in his eyes before he dropped his focus back down to his food.

"You're a cruel woman, Hawke. You may have discovered a way to make a grown Templar cry." He lifted his gaze again. "Or issued a challenge. I'll let you know when the occasion arises."

"An inspiring story, yes. That even when you're covered in blood, you can catch someone's eye." She rolled her eyes. "Maker, she is going to kill me if she hears half of what I've said tonight about her."

She broke off a piece of the bread she'd brought over to offer it to the dog. "A whole weekend? You'd be absolutely sick to death of me by that point if we did that." She felt heat on the back of her neck when she turned back to crack another crab leg for herself.

"Oh, please do. In the meantime, I'll make absolutely certain that wherever we stay has some level of discretion and won't ask too many questions when I reserve a room there." She hadn't been Champion long enough to dissuade everyone to leave off with the kind words and praises. She wouldn't want a quiet evening to turn into something bigger than it needed to be. But having the time alone with him, intimate or friendly, was enough to draw another faint smile at her, quickly hidden when she had a drink from her glass.

"Not just someone's eye. The right someone." He chuckled. "Don't worry. She's not going to hear it from me."

He reached for a piece of bread, too. He had been so focused on the crab he had almost forgotten it. "There's only one way to know for sure. Don't worry. I'm not proposing it right now. We're both too busy to go carving out that much time in our schedules." That didn't mean he didn't consider it a future possibility, his open expression saying as much. He washed the bread down with some water.

"That sounds ideal. The fewer questions the better. If it will help, I can wear a hood. I've found most people recognize me the easiest by the hair. If I show up out of uniform in a cowl, I hardly get a second glance." Of course, that also had the potential to look like he was up to something. He'd need to choose the hood carefully.

"It's funny. I have days when I don't think that's very possible, for someone to find that right person. And then I look at Aveline and my mother." First with a Templar, then a guard. And her mother with an apostate. Maybe Aveline would understand more than she gave her credit. She didn't want to speak to her about it yet, though.

She shook her head with a grin. "Sad to think we can't even garner a weekend with each other or otherwise without worrying about something happening." But it was no less true. She broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouh. "Maybe we'll have a better opportunity another time for something similar."

Hawke cast him a curious gaze from across the table. "You with a cowl. That would be something to see." She smiled. "I'm no help, of course. I'll either be easily recognized or people won't believe I'm who I say I am."

"I admit I often wonder how many people settle. Of course, people marry for all sorts of reasons, few of them having much to do with love. If that comes, it's almost incidental." He was very much a realist when it came to such matters, one reason he had never given it much consideration for himself. Templars in general made piss poor spouses. They were too married to their calling.

"It speaks to the times, I'm afraid. If Kirkwall has been less tense in the past, those days are long gone." He had some ideas as to why. He knew the influx of Fereldans hadn't helped matters, but too many Marchers were willing to point to them as a cause rather than a symptom of a deeper malaise. "I have a feeling if we develop the will for it, we'll find the way." He smiled over the rim of his water glass, gaze a little speculative.

"It's every bit as ridiculous as it sounds," he snorted. "You'll see. I might take a perverse sort of pleasure in watching you handle your fans, however."

"It's difficult to say. I'm certain many people come together for wealth or because it seemed advantageous at the time and end up comfortable together. But for love... I don't think that happens often, despite what stories may say." Perhaps she'd been naive in Lothering but it seemed as if people were more comfortable in Ferelden with one another than in Kirkwall.

She shook her head. "Throw out one problem and unearth ten more. That's the story of Kirkwall." The city had to be cursed. She'd bank money on it. "I'm sure we'll find more than enough to occupy us until we're tearing at the bit to get the Void out of here for a weekend." And knowing their luck, it would happen sooner than they both expected. Accomplishing it, however, would be another thing enirely.

"You won't like it when you can't get a moment with me for the rest of the night." She pulled off some more of the meat from her crab leg. "Maybe I should just sneak up into the room while you distract them with your cowl and handsome face."

"It makes sense. Life in Thedas is too hard for most people to invest in something like a marriage for less than practical reasons. As nice as the thought of getting swept away is, it's also a frightening thought. The consequences can be staggering." He felt she likely understood that better than most. Her parents did exceedingly well given what they had stacked against them. It could have gone a different way with just one misstep.

"You have it in a nutshell." He silently toasted her with his water and took a longer swallow. "Maybe when it's really cold. It seems everything quiets down then for a while. Of course, then I won't be proposing going out in a boat."

He tipped his head as though considering that and reached for a crab half. "Don't forget I'm used to sitting back and watching. I can garner a lot of entertainment from that. You do realize if I'm flashing my face, it defeats the purpose of the cowl? We'll figure out something. Maybe I'll toss you unceremoniously over my shoulder and just carry you up the stairs. They can speculate all they like about the so-called mystery man, and we can start some sordid rumor about a Navarran dragon hunter passing through."

"It's...a fantasy," she admitted, taking a small drink from her glass. Her parents had been more than lucky. It didn't stop her from hoping that, perhaps, one day... But she was too practical to linger on such thoughts. How could she ever dream that someone would do that with the life she had, with the dangers she faced, with the magic in her blood? It wouldn't do. "It's not something many can or will aspire to. It's just not worth the heartache when it doesn't happen." It just didn't happen often enough outside of stories.

"What would you be proposing, then?" she asked, interest piqued. "Finding a comfortable hole somewhere to wait until winter's passed?" And this was from the woman who'd had her share of Ferelden winters, where it was much colder.

Had she been eating at that moment, she probably would have choked. As it was, she laughed, shoulders shaking with the effort. "Throw me over your shoulder? I can't tell if I'd be utterly mortified or spectacularly pleased if you did." Damn, she could feel some heat in her ears. Her smile curved wickedly at the edges. "Navarran dragon hunter. Look at you, already spinning wild ideas."

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