romdeau | 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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He gave an easy laugh. "I have no trouble seeing you doing exactly that. Don't worry. I have no intention of ever bringing you uninvited guests." He hummed lightly under his breath. "I want to hear them when you do. It will help if we have our stories straight." Not to mention he imagined some of them would be amusing.

"It was my pleasure, truly." His smile settled warmly in his gaze. "Walk me to the door? We can make it a slow walk." It wasn't crunch time to the point that he'd need to run.

"So we don't make the mistake of 'We have crabs' again?" she asked, pinching his shoulder. "I'll write you a list and hand them off to you in the Gallows. All the excuses you'll ever need, starting with 'the Champion ordered me to do it' and ending with 'liver night'." With a few ridiculous ones thrown in there to see if he was reading.

"You're going to need to let me go if you're hoping to walk anywhere," she said, tilting her head up to kiss him briefly while she had the chance.

"Kind of you to say 'we' when you mean me," he said, still laughing. "Passing notes. That will feel positively clandestine. I like it."

The laughter eased off in the kiss. He spread his legs slightly to avoid stepping on her feet and attempted to walk her backward, one eye open to make sure he wasn't going to crash her into the counter or the table. He caught her lower lip between both of his and pulled back gently. "You sure about that?" he murmured.

"Better that you said something, all things considered. I might have said something uncouth and gotten us thrown out on the streets." She grinned. "Nothing says discreet like passing missives."

She kept her laughter muted against his lips as he started guiding her backwards, her steps carefully measured when she wasn't so distracted by the tug of her own lips. Her smile curved against his mouth. "Rising to the occasion. I like that." The next few steps were a tug on her part, her hands falling to his hips.

"As everyone wonders why we've suddenly taken to shaking hands every time we meet." The idea of it amused him far too much. He doubted most would take much note given they hardly garnered more than a few glances when they spoke these days.

"Isn't rising to the occasion what got us in trouble on the boat?" He grinned against her lips before ducking his head down slightly for the awful joke. That didn't last long. He was back to stealing kisses as they walked and speeding up a little to keep up with her tugging. He turned them slightly to the right to prevent from crashing into the doorway of the kitchen.

"I could keep up the facade of disliking your presence, if you'd prefer," she joked. "I could lodge it at your head and you could yell at me for littering. No one would suspect a thing."

She hummed softly, the sound lost when he went in for another press of lips. She slowed briefly and nipped him, breaking the kiss for just a moment. "That was trouble? I was under the impression we were being creative under the circumstances." She glanced behind her to be sure she wasn't going to bump into anything as they entered the living area.

"Exciting. I have to admit, if the stakes hadn't been quite so high, it would have been fun exchanging the glares in the Rose. It's an act that would be easy enough to maintain. It might make your friends less nervous, too." He never would have thought himself so quick to be sucked into intrigue. Then again, he never would have seen himself dating Hawke, so things had a way of changing quickly at times.

He made a soft sound for the nip, his eyes darkening slightly. "Could've been trouble if the boat rocked any harder," he murmured. Once they were through the doorway, he stopped their progress for a deeper kiss, his arms tightening.

"We didn't have time to practice what excuse we were going to use. That, and we ran into the guard." If no one had been there, they could have used the few moments they had to come up with something plausible. "Maybe I should only bring Sebastian and Fenris with me when I go to the Gallows. At least then I wouldn't be applauded for giving you trouble." She grinned, pleased he was responsive to her brand of mischief.

The chuckle bubbling in her throat died just as quickly, smothered by the kiss and the tighter wrap of his arms around her. She brought them flush together, content enough to follow his lead and deepen the kiss, her fingers squeezing his shoulders carefully, almost affectionately.

"You just want to see their expressions when you start to give me a hard time," he countered, very amused. He thought it might be fun, too. He knew Sebastian to a degree. It would be interesting to see how he took Hawke throwing things at a Templar.

He lingered with the kiss until he could feel the concern about the time once more intruding. It was harder to fight against the pull of the warm press of her, all too easy to make half baked excuses in his head about why he didn't make morning muster. He knew that was a way to get a stop put to things before they had the chance to start. Earning Meredith's ire would do them no favors. He pulled back but kept her in his arms, taking them closer yet to the front door.

"Possibly. But you have to admit, when the truth comes out, the looks on their faces will be absolutely priceless and utterly worth it." The only people she worried for would be Anders and Bethany. Her sister would probably not be too pleased.

When he drew away, she finally relented, letting him pull back. She shot him a brief grin, following his thought process well enough. If he was late, they'd have a harder time meeting again without suspicion. She sneaked in another brief kiss as they backed into the foyer, nearly at the door before turning her eyes to his. "Go on, before we make a very bad decision and come to regret it." She smiled impishly. "Even if it's sorely tempting to keep you here anyway."

"No argument there. Of all of your friends, they might object the least, but they'll still be shocked." He wouldn't want to be a fly on the wall when Anders learned the truth. He imagined that conversation would be a difficult one.

"Yes, Knight-Commander, the Champion held me hostage. I had a hard time breaking away. I almost didn't make it." He smiled and sneaked his own kiss then released her, taking up both of her hands in his instead. Lifting them by the fingers, he pressed his lips to the backs of them.

"You're an excellent date, Marian Hawke. One day when we're able to tell the tale of it, I imagine quite a few Templars will be captivated." He reached behind him to open the door. "I look forward to our next."

When he turned to face into the square, he had the no-nonsense Templar mask firmly in place with a touch of irritation on top of it. He wouldn't be surprised if the Coterie intended to watch him all the way back to the Gallows. Better safe than sorry in playing the part.

"Everyone will be shocked. There's absolutely no getting around that. Might as well enjoy the outcome while it's humorous." Because when Anders and Meredith discovered what they'd been doing, she imagined things would become much more difficult. Sadly, she also had a feeling Meredith would be the least of her problems.

She smiled sharply as he took her hands, affection more obvious in her eyes than in her overall expression. "Likewise on all counts, Knight-Captain. I'll see you another time."

When he released her, she reluctantly stepped away so he could go, certain her expression would betray them should anyone catch a glimpse of it as he left. But she was safe to shake her head and smile at herself once the door had closed and she went back to the kitchen to clean everything up before Bodahn was the wiser. She had to laugh at herself once alone. "Maker, what am I doing?"

Ah, well. She'd had too much of a good time to question it. She would undoubtedly look forward to seeing him again.

a fishing date;

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